Title: Blue Eyed Devil Author: Pattyanne snapkik@yahoo.com Disclaimer: None of the characters in the story belong to me. Feedback: Don't make me beg. Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the lead singer for the band Blue Eyed Devil. Buffy Summers is a local preschool teacher. They meet and ..... Rating: Will vary, all the way to NC-17 (The lyrics in chapter 2, Popular Girl, are from Survivor's Vital Signs) Part three..... After a long night filled with disturbing dreams punctuated by a few moments of restless sleep, Buffy had to drag herself out of bed. It wasn't until she'd had two cups of black, highly sweetened coffee and a shower that she began to think she might be able to screw her head on straight and go to work. Her morning was hectic and loud. The children from Marian Banner's class room had been parceled out amongst the other teachers until the plumbing could be fixed and the carpet relaid. This meant that Buffy had five more 4 year olds to deal with. She made it through the morning on a caffeine and sugar energy burst, and she only stopped to think about her experience the night before a half a dozen times or so. Fortunately, her attention had to focus on her children, which saved her from a lot of useless imaginings. Although he had haunted her last night in her dreams, Buffy had no illusions about the reality of the situation. She was quite certain that she'd been nothing more to him than an interesting diversion, probably prompted by her initial ignoring of his stage presence, and a challenge to his ego. To a person like him, it wasn't enough to have most of the girls in the audience bowled over...he needed to have them all in the same condition. During the morning rest period, she snuck into the kitchen and drank a bottle of Coke, hoping to boost herself up with more caffeine and sugar. It seemed to work, because she got through the rest of the class time until lunch without collapsing into a tired heap. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "So...how was the band last night?" Buffy shrugged as she filled her basket with supplies from the storage closet. Construction paper, glue sticks, buttons, pipe cleaners and Popsicle sticks weighed her arm down...ingredients for an art project she was planning for the afternoon session. "They were all right," she murmured absently, silently berating herself for telling such an outrageous lie. "All right?" Willow asked, disbelief making her voice squeak. "That's the best you can say...they were all right?" Buffy cleared her throat. "They were...good. Competent musicians...pleasant voices." "Well, which songs did they sing?" Willow pressed. Glad that she was facing in the other direction, Buffy allowed herself a brief memory of a silky, sensual voice and of pene- trating blue eyes fixed on her like a laser beam as he sang words that made the heat rise in her body..."She's setting my heart on fire...." "I don't really remember," she said, swallowing hard. Willow was silent for a long moment, and Buffy could almost feel her friends eyes burning into her, trying to gauge the level of truth in her voice. "Well, what about the guys themselves?" she asked. "Were they hot?" "No!" Buffy said, a shade too loudly. "They were just...just ordinary looking guys. Nothing special." She closed the door to the storage closet, hoping to avoid whatever lighting bolt God was about to pop her with for telling so many lies. "Oh, come on." The disbelief in Willow's voice ratcheted up about three degrees. "I've seen them on TV," she added, "They are majorly sexy...especially Spike Dev...." Buffy cut her off before she could finish the name. "I suppose they were, if you like that type!" she snapped. "But they just don't appeal to me." Another lie. She was actually afraid to step outside at this point. If not a lightning bolt, then surely an anvil would come crashing down from the sky and squash her flat. "Okay, okay," Willow said placatingly, holding up her hands as though she were being robbed at gunpoint. "I get the message. Miss Summers doesn't like rock and roll singers." She smiled, and Buffy knew what was coming next. "She prefers tall, blond loan officers." As hard as she tried, Buffy couldn't even muster up a small smile acknowledging Willow's teasing comment. Her best friend and employer was referring to Riley Finn, the officer at the bank that had approved Willow's small business start up loan. Riley had brought some paperwork to the school a few months ago, and Willow had introduced him to Buffy, hoping to prod her into wanting more satisfaction out of life than she got from teaching preschool. He was very nice, and there was no doubt he was good looking. Tall and built more like a athlete than a bank officer, Riley Finn had sandy blond hair, friendly gray eyes, and an open, guileless face. Riley was what he was. There was no hidden mystery to him, no secrets to explore. What you saw...was what you got. No more, no less. She had accepted his invitation to lunch that day, and had been out with him a few times since then. But, much to Willow's dismay, she couldn't seem to work up more than a casual liking for him. Even when he kissed her, although she tried to leave herself open for the bells and skyrockets that romance novels rhapsodized about, she never really lost herself in his kiss. Never wanted to drown in his eyes. Never wanted to lie in his arms and listen to him sing to her...sing softly...only to her.... Oh, no. She wasn't going there again. THAT was a dream. A silly, unattainable dream that had crept into her innocent sleep, uninvited. Buffy tried to change the subject. "What did the plumber say?" "Oh, it was just a faulty pipe. He replaced it and checked out everything else, said it all looks good." Willow wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. "The carpet in Marian's room will be back down by the end of the day, so...all's well." "Good," Buffy murmured, pushing open the door to her class room. Willow said nothing for a moment, and Buffy was afraid that her friend was once again gathering her forces to continue her "Buffy could love Riley if she just gave herself half a chance" lecture. But all Willow did was ask if she could supervise the noon play period outside. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There were twelve children in her class, and she adored every single one of them. >From the time she'd been a child herself, Buffy had wanted to be a teacher. She had spent most of her playtime conducting pretend classes with her dolls and stuffed animals lined up in a neat row as she explained the mysteries of 2+2=4. As she grew to adulthood, she discovered that she had a special affinity for very young children. They were so full of wonder and joy, so eager to learn and so willing to love and be loved. Her little ones were old enough to truly learn what she was teaching them, but not too old to climb up on her lap for a hug, or to have an 'ouchie' kissed after it was treated with antiseptic and a band aid. They loved nothing more than to come and take Miss Buffy's hand and lead her out onto the playground to take part in whatever imaginary flights of fancy they were participating in. And Miss Buffy loved nothing more than to be taken along for the ride. She climbed the monkey bars, swung along on the swing sets, teetered as they tottered, and crawled on her hands and knees into the playhouses. She dressed and undressed dolls, built Lego skyscrapers, molded clay into recognizable shapes, and blatantly crayoned outside the lines of coloring books. When she took her class on a mini field trip to the little farm Willow had set up in the field behind the school, they followed her in a row, like ducklings. They tossed grain to the chickens, cuddled the bunnies, and laughed when she purposely allowed the tiny pygmy goat to lower his miniature horns and bump into her backside. And they asked questions. Endless questions about everything under the sun. Why was this like that, and why was that like this? Where did the sun go at night? Why did the moon change colors as it rose? Do flowers feel it when they're picked? How did the cinnamon and sugar stick to the graham crackers, and why was there no butter in the peanut butter? Do bunnies like jelly beans, and why did some have floppy ears while others had upstanding ones? They asked so many questions that she thought nothing of it at first when she was crawling out of the iron tunnel and heard Samantha ask, "Miss Buffy? Who's that man by the front gate?" Buffy looked up, saw who it was, and bumped her head on the edge of the tunnel hard enough to make the iron ring like a dull chime. Oh, no...... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TBC..... Comments? Complaints? Hit me with them!