New Beginnings: History
by Javian
Chapter 17: History
Disclaimer: No part of the Buffyverse is mine.
A/N: Okay. I know. It's been ages since my last update. And there is absolutely no excuse since I've had this chapter written since the day after the last chapter. I'm a terrible person. I'm sorry. (I don't have any other chapters done at this point though.)
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Buffy knew the minute she stepped into history that she was doomed. All it took was one look at her teacher, a Mr. Balbert (unaffectionately dubbed Bald Bert by Xander). Xander had assured her that, “Baldy’s not too bad, he only gets freaky if anything too chancy or lucky happens. He’s really superstitious, in his own..creepish..way.”
What really struck Buffy though, was ‘Baldy’s’ strong resemblance to her old history teacher. If Baldy had been aware of this amusing coincidence, he would, by Xander’s description, already be ordering her out of the class as a bringer of bad luck, while also blaming the coming Friday the 13th, which happened to be tomorrow.
Mr. Balbert was slightly stooped, and had that ancient, pinched look as if he spent too many hours during the day squinting at students’ keychains to make sure they weren’t too dangerously lucky.
He was also very short. That had been the only thing Buffy enjoyed about her old history class; for once, she could honestly feel like she was taller than someone, even if most of the class was spent sitting in a desk, she allowed herself to latch onto a little detail like that. It made her mental mocking of her teacher just that much better. Looks like it would follow through for this teacher, and class, as well. The thought made her smile, just enough to replace her initial, reflexive grimace upon entering a history classroom.
Buffy lingered near the front of the room, waiting again to see if she would be assigned a seat for this class, tapping her foot slightly as Baldy seemed in no hurry to move from his place near the door. She looked around, wondering where Xander and Willow had suddenly disappeared to.
Willow, now all glowy with excitement again, came over pulling on the arm of a brown-haired boy who was furtively glancing back at his seat, as if longing to wish himself back there.
“Willow, stop, what’s all this a--,” Angel began protesting weakly. Then he saw Buffy. “—bout…”
His first reaction was that this must be the new girl everyone had been talking about. His second thought was that those rumors about her being a crazy gang druggie had to be absolutely ridiculous, because she looked like a typical blonde, albeit a very beautiful blonde, but there were lots of those in California, so why did she seem different? It was intriguing.
The third thought that came to his mind, was that he really needed some good thinking time alone in his chair, to slowly ponder out this thought, but Xander was behind him, and there was no way he could back away unnoticed.
Buffy quirked an eyebrow, then gave a small smile at the lost look on the guy’s face. He was a nice-looking person, but was staring at her lost in thought. Willow and Xander looked at each other, slightly exasperated. Xander gave Angel a slight nudge, but rolled his eyes when Angel continued to be mute.
Buffy decided Angel seemed decent enough, a little awkward, apparently shy. It also looked like he spent hours gelling his hair, then ran his hand through it all day. Finally, Buffy took the initiative.
“Hi, I’m Buffy.” A pause, as Willow and Xander looked on helplessly. Buffy blinked at Angel, then feeling irrationally nervous, continued, “…and I’m assuming you’d be Angel…just from the, you know, lost-in-thought-ness so early in the conversation. I mean, introduction. Yeah…you know what I mean.”
After a pause, Buffy decided, just to be safe, to add, “Or, you know, it could be one of the great mysteries to the universe that requires much…staring blankly-ness?”
Xander grinned and jabbed an elbow at Angel. “He’s just being Angel. Ignore him while you’re ahead.” The second bell rang and Xander made his way to the back, where his seat was once again.
Willow looked questioningly at Angel. So, ok, he got a bit of slack because this was typical-him… except that it wasn’t. Apparently not enough for Xander to notice, or care, but Angel wasn’t this weird. He did talk. In fact, he could be pretty much normal when he wanted, and he usually reserved his deep inner brooding for during-class sitting-in-his-own-desk time. Not in the middle of an introduction. Above the twinge of worry, Willow was slightly disappointed by his lack of reaction. Buffy and Angel had just seemed like people who would get along, maybe have enough of a connection to develop the kind of understanding Willow and Xander had reached the day they’d met. At the sound of the bell though, Willow jumped and said quickly, “Well, hey, you’ve met each other, and um, maybe when we get to English class we can…talk more.” She hurried to her seat.
Mr. Balbert always assigned seats, and rumor had it that he took no small amount of glee in splitting up friends and putting together enemies. Therefore, Willow, as always, found herself staring at the back of Aphrodisia’s head, sandwiched between her, a guy named Forrest (with an annoyingly overblown ego, also a member of Riley’s crew), and an open window that was blowing in a steady stream of chilly wind into the classroom. Or, into a shivering Willow who wondered once again how the rest of Sunnydale could be so sunny, and one history classroom could attract all the combined atmospheric disturbance that should have been fairly divided around. It posed an interesting physics question, like so many of the other mysteries around Sunnydale, the least of which was weather.
Willow chastised herself. Even her thoughts were all ramb-ly. It didn’t bode well for a jittery Willow.
Angel shook himself out of his daze. Just a few moments ago, he could have sworn he recognized Buffy from somewhere, which, of course, was impossible. He had a nagging suspicion this recognition could be important. Thinking hard, he had placed it just a few seconds before the bell rang. The girl had been in one of his dreams. No, not dreams. Visions. He would have to talk to Giles about that. The details were blurry but he was pretty sure Giles would have a record of it somewhere, since he had quickly learned how meticulous the very knowledgeable school librarian was.
~
Angel had been given a tour of the school by Willow on that very first day, and the last stop had been the library, where he’d noticed the new librarian unpacking some books. Angel had relocated to Sunnydale after a string of very unnerving events at his house, and been directed anonymously to find the man in this town who held the information that could explain Angel’s problems. Angel, beginning only a few months ago, had begun having flashes, like nightmares, of strange people and nightmarish monsters. He began hearing chanting around the house, and sometimes he could’ve sworn there was a red glow surrounding him. When it became too much, he sought for help, and this is where he ended up. This tiny, unassuming little town of Sunnydale.
It hadn’t been too hard from there. Giles, who called himself an “ex-Watcher,” though Angel had never really asked about that title, was able to do some research and concluded that he was being sent visions by the “Powers that Be.” Of course, that had led to a whole flurry of other questions, and now Angel spent his afternoons and late into the night in the library, restlessly digging through old books to learn as much about this apparent underworld of vampires and demons. So far, his visions had not been sharp enough to do much with them, but he dutifully related what he could remember to Giles every time, who was slowly putting together the pieces.
Seeing Buffy, a possible piece of the puzzle, Angel lost himself in the thought, wondering what this could possibly mean.
That was when the bell rang, jerking him out of his musings before noticing Buffy still standing there, apparently making a very one-sided conversation. Angel suddenly felt increasingly foolish, realizing he had stood there the whole time. He finally stuttered out a “Uh…um, hi, Buffy, nice to meet you,” before hastily retreating to his seat, almost dying in embarrassment at the startled expression on the girl’s face when he’d finally spoken.
~
Buffy watched in bewilderment as Angel fled to his seat. Ok, I give him a 10 on the weirdness scale. Maybe Xander’s vampire theory had some credibility. Would be an awfully shy vampire though.
Buffy quickly turned her attention to Mr. Balbert, who was finally inching his way back to the front of the class, where Buffy was still standing.
Baldy stood for a moment, scrutinizing Buffy’s face, before rasping out, “Ms. Summers.”
Buffy, uncertain if it was a question or statement, nodded slightly in response, her feeling of apprehension returning.
Baldy continued, “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class? I’m sure everyone is curious to learn something about our new student.” He pointed to his left. “Just stand over there so everyone can see you now.”
Buffy reluctantly moved to the center of the front of the room. Baldy looked at her expectantly.
Not meeting anyone’s eyes in particular, Buffy began, “My name’s Buffy, and I—“
She was promptly cut off by Baldy, waving a hand around to shush her. Buffy gave him a perplexed look that he didn’t seem to catch.
“Actually,” announced Baldy, “I think this class could use a little more participation. Let’s have a question-answer session. I want everyone to have a question ready for Ms. Summers. I will be calling on you and if you haven’t thought of anything, you will lose all participation points for the day.” Hardly pausing for breath now, and missing the disbelieving glare sent his way by Buffy, Baldy immediately called on a student.
“Anya.”
Anya looked at Buffy, asking the first thing that came to mind. “Do you like bunnies?”
There were a few snickers that immediately stopped when Anya turned her head to see who was at fault.
Buffy, taken aback by the rather strange question, answered, “I, um, I guess they’re ok. I mean, they’re kinda cute.” Buffy felt vaguely uneasy when Anya shot her a menacing glare at her response, muttering under her breath, “Bunnies are evil.”
Baldy quickly picked another student. “Parker.”
A smirking guy sitting behind Xander drawled out, “Are you really in a gang? And do you have, like, suicidal depressive issues?”
Buffy, irritated, almost rolled her eyes, “No, and no.”
Baldy, determined not to waste a single second, pointed to his next victim. “Aphrodisia.”
A whiny voice asked, “Is Buffy your real name?”
“Yeah.”
“Alexander”
“Xander.” The boy in question corrected smoothly, following up with a perky, “Any siblings?”
Buffy smiled at his enthusiasm. “Nope, it’s just me.”
“Forrest”
“What’s your number?”
Buffy looked at the cocky kid slumping in the seat behind Willow, shooting Willow a sympathetic look as she noticed her unfortunate seating situation. Baldy shot Forrest a warning glare, and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Let me think…”
Baldy interrupted him though. “No second chances, Forrest, that’s a zero for the day.” Forrest looked furiously at Buffy, who felt slighted at being blamed, since technically it wasn’t her fault he had acted all immature.
“Ford”
A toothy grin. “Do you believe in vampires?”
Angel tensed, Willow eyebrows shot up, and Xander gaped. The teacher looked a bit suspicious. Buffy, caught off guard completely, froze for a second, before looking carefully at Ford’s face. He looked completely innocent of anything but actual curiosity. A good half of the class, however, let out various exasperated noises at Ford’s unrelenting obsession with all things vampiric. He was such a wannabe.
Buffy carefully masked her expression, and allowed herself a one-word answer. “No.”
“Amy”
“Where did you move from?”
“LA.” A couple of interested expressions.
“Cameron”
“So, were you in a gang there?”
A slight pout, quickly replaced by an annoyed, “No.”
“Oz”
Buffy looked over at the red-head, who had been busy looking at Willow. Buffy resisted the urge to clap her hands; the two of them would make such a cute couple. She made a mental note to ask Willow about Oz later. The tingles of her inner match-maker were making themselves known.
Oz turned his attention to Buffy, asking, “What’s your middle name?”
Buffy smiled. Easy questions were good. “Anne.”
Baldy, apparently bored now, abruptly said,”Okay, that’s enough. Ms. Summers, I want you in the desk behind Mr. Osbourne. See me after class to arrange make-up sessions. Now we shall begin with a review of last night’s chapter questions on the causes of World War I…”
There was a flurry of activity as everyone took out notebooks and textbooks, and then class began.
~
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