Walker of Night Part 14

[madimpossibledreamer]

last part except for a single drabble...
it's been a journey

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU, first person oc PoV
Summary: I am entirely confused as to two things: Why no one had Willow or Xander learn self-defense, and why they didn't start teaching anyone else.  Because it would keep the kill count down at least a little bit.  This was my attempt to fix it.
Word Count: 880
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Xander/Spike, Willow/Tara

 

My favorite class at college is one I don’t get any credit for.  Technically it might be more of an extracurricular activity, except I can’t put it on a transcript.  As such, it’s more of a secret society or something.  Anyway, it’s really cool.  It’s called Self Defense, but that’s more of an alias than anything, I think.  It’s just a bunch of random stuff.

The prof is really cool.  The only reason they sort of have attendance is to make sure that no one’s dead.  May sound strange, but the more I learn about Sunnydale the more I figure out that it’s kind of a really good idea.  We’re not required to pay attention, and occasionally a few of us just sit in the way back and sleep, or do homework.  The classroom is kind of small, and it’s really hard to get to, which is why it was chosen I’d guess.

The prof’s actually a freshman, and kind of attractive, but he’s got a boyfriend, who’s also really sexy.  I would mind, because, well, there aren’t all that many people that are really really cute here, but they’re a cute couple, and I get a nice view of kisses or whatever occasionally.  So there’s that.

And there are what they call ‘guest lecturers’.  It’s amazing how much thought was put into this.  They really DID try to make it sound like a college class.  But it’s so much cooler than that.  It’s like the Magic School Bus, only it’s real and so much cooler than some children’s program.

Our prof isn’t here on time again.  He hasn’t been here for a week and a half, and well, with all his talk about buddies and making sure nobody’s dead, I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering whether he’s lying dead, or, well, sacrificed, or turned into the walking undead or something.  Completely, instead of half.

Name’s Rhiannon.  Punk artist.  Mom’s Australian.  Dad brought us to America, then dumped her.  I’ve barely escaped being caught graffiti-ing.  And I took a look at his roll sheet, just snuck a peek ‘cause I was curious.  Marked down as ‘potential Slayer’, which means that if the blonde cheerleader Guest Lecturer ever dies, I might be next on that list.  Rather not.  She’s…kinda cool, I guess, and I’d rather just keep drawing.  I mean, I could figure out a way to dust vamps artistically, but don’t really wanna, you know?  My hair’s a different color every week, and I actually kind of take after the prof’s boyf’s sense of fashion, so there’s that.  Now, being a witch, as long as I could wear some of the cooler outfits?  Could take after that.  I decided to start drawing tarot cards, and I know I kind of worry one of the Resident Witches, Tara, but the other one, Willow, is encouraging as long as I’m careful and actually asked me if she could have a set of mine.  Said sure, but haven’t really decided whether I wanna or not.

Prof finally comes in, out of breath and grinning.  “Sorry everyone!”  Before he can get anything more in, Amber’s interrupting him.  “We thought you were dead!  We sent out search parties and everything.” He turns sort of pink.  “Sorry about that, everyone.  Um…Yeah, busy week.  Listen, next time…hang on, I’ll see if it’s okay,” he calls someone, the Librarian I’d guess, and it turns out I’m right. 

“I can’t promise he’ll give you a full explanation, or at least one you’ll understand anyway, but he’ll be able at least to tell you that I’m not dead or whatever.”

 

Just then, Spike saunters in, all bleached hair and confidence.  Xander barely has time to turn when his boyfriend’s suddenly up against him, trapping him against the wall.  A few turn away or make noises, but I just sit forward and watch.  It’s easy to tell when Xander’s brain short-circuits, because somewhere inside he goes ‘hey, this isn’t a good idea in public’ so he’s not grabbing at the man or anything, but at the same time his brain isn’t working enough to make him push his vamp away.  Eventually, something in his brain says ‘okay, enough now’, but somewhere along the line told him that pain would drive a vamp away.  Ha.  The lip biting only makes Blondie more determined, and if I’m not mistaken there may even be some making out shortly.  Why buy porn when you can watch something just as naughty by going to class?  Of course, there’s no nakedness, but it doesn’t take much imagination to determine what could be.  After another minute, the prof’s brain is working well enough that he pushes his vamp away.  There’s a growl, and I wouldn’t say Spike backs away willingly, but he does, eventually.

“Home, okay?  Right now, inappropriate.”  He shakes his head to clear it, then turns to us all.  “Um, yeah, if that bothered you sorry about that.”  Unconsciously he licks his lips, which are bleeding slightly, and like the predator he is Spike watches that move with a kind of hunger.  He concentrates, and he’s back to his soft face, but the danger’s closer to the surface than usual.  He’s mad or frustrated about something.  Probably his clueless, danger-drawing goofball of a boyfriend.