Chapter 3 - Pesterment

One week later …

Buffy sat in a private, glassed-in carrel at the university library and leafed through her psychology textbook. She felt like a bloated fish in an aquarium where all the real students could stare at her, a Studying Loafer. This studying business was nothing like her Movie Montage Fantasy – sharpened pencils, tremendously neat class notes and brainiac glasses. Studying was way like work. Maybe she should buy some glasses to help her concentrate?

She was seriously behind in psychology, hence her unaccustomed visit to the library. Professor Walsh gave her an A last term as a blackmail payment when Buffy discovered the hidden goal of the Positive Reinforcement program. Walsh was back to real grading this term. Buffy stopped reading the material last term after she blackmailed Walsh into giving her a good grade. She despaired of making anything like a good grade in Psychology 102 without some scholarly help.

Buffy slumped in her chair, daydreamed about Spike and how intelligent she’d look in a pair of slim, black glasses and considered how unlikely she was to receive a good grade.

While Buffy was daydreaming, she was being studied by Professor Walsh’s graduate assistant, Riley Finn.

Riley lusted for Buffy from the moment she dropped a stack of books on his head in the campus bookstore. He considered trying to score with her, maybe even take her out a couple of times if she proved cooperative in the sack, until Professor Walsh messed up his chances when she mixed Buffy up in that damn Positive Reinforcement program.

After he’d found out about the program and confronted Walsh, he’d been sternly warned by the professor to keep his distance from Buffy. Walsh didn’t want Riley interfering with her stupid research program which manipulated Buffy into having sex with a hostile.

And, not just any hostile either. Walsh picked Hostile 17, who was as obnoxious as the night was long and a psycho killer to boot, to be Buffy’s playmate. Riley tracked down Hostile 17 to protect Buffy from him. He was about to dust Seventeen, when Buffy surprised him and kicked his butt. Getting his butt kicked by a tiny girl like Buffy was beyond embarrassing.

It was even more embarrassing considering how little Riley appreciated Buffy’s fighting abilities. Her talents as the so-called Slayer were over-rated. She couldn’t possibly be as strong as a well-trained male soldier. She’d been lucky that night. She’d punched him in the gut after Seventeen delivered a male-strength kick and cracked Riley’s skull against the crypt wall. Buffy wouldn’t have been able to lay a finger on him in a fair fight.

Riley still wanted to have sex with Buffy, but after he found out she’d slept with vampire scum Seventeen, he abandoned any serious romantic intentions. He couldn’t allow himself to fall in love with a slut who slept around with vampires, even if the sleeping around with part wasn’t her idea. No, she was only good enough for a toss in the rack after consorting with vampire filth.

Buffy was still mad at him for trying to dust Seventeen and Walsh ordered him to stay away from Buffy except to talk to her in his capacity as Walsh’s graduate assistant, which prevented him from approaching her. Walsh, by giving Buffy a lousy grade in freshman psych, gave him the opportunity he needed.

Riley tapped on the glass of Buffy’s study cell and came in without an invitation.

“Buffy?” Riley said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“What’s the what?” she said.

Exactly what she needed, pesterment by Special Agent Riley Finn. Hadn’t he got the message when she beat him up in Spike’s crypt? Too bad humans didn’t have to be invited in like vampires.

Riley sat down in the chair across from her. He didn’t want to arouse her suspicions by sitting too close. “I wanted to talk to you about Hostile 17.”

“What about him?” Riley had so better not be planning on messing with Spike. Not unless he wanted to find out what it was like to be a Slayer Punching Bag.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for beating him up. I thought his chip wasn’t working and he was going to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me. I forgot you can take care of yourself.”

Riley was sorry Buffy intervened before he slammed a sharp stake through Seventeen’s dead heart.
Buffy sniffed. Riley never came close to beating up Spike. Spike figured out the secret of the control box – it could neutralize his chip. If Buffy hadn’t taken over the Riley ass-kicking chore herself, Riley would have been Demon-Roni by the time Spike finished with him. But, since Riley seemed sorry, and Giles was always nagging her to forgive people for screwing up, Buffy accepted his apology. Besides, Riley might be useful in the studying department.

“Yeah, I can take care of myself.”

That went pretty good. Should he pull the Innocent Farm Boy act and ask her for a date? Some girls really go for that shit. Of course, she’d already proved herself a slut, and not just with Seventeen. Maybe he should invite her out to the parking lot to check out the back seat of his car?

Buffy saw Riley was wallowing in an awkward male Don’t Know What To Say To A Pretty Girl Type Moment, so she changed the subject.

“Could you help me, Riley? I got a little behind in my studying last term what with tracking down a kiss of vampires on campus and clearing out a ryzark nest. I could use some graduate level tutoring in brain manipulating, if you’re not too busy.”

Buffy fed Riley the same lies she’d used on her mother about the campus vampires, who were still doing a brisk business in spite of Buffy’s efforts, and the ryzarks which weren’t living within three hundred miles of Sunnydale, but Riley was stupid enough to believe her.

“Sure, Buffy,” he said. Boy, that had been easy. He hadn’t even had to suggest the tutoring scam himself. Studying was perfect. He could get laid without spending any money.

“We can set up a schedule and go over the material you missed.” And, she could show her gratitude for his tutoring by using her tongue on his dick. Three study sessions ought to be enough to establish her role in their relationship. Her role on her knees.

“How about tomorrow? I’m patrolling tonight.”

Patrol. Here was a chance to get Buffy alone and give her an opportunity to show her gratitude before he went to the trouble of tutoring the little idiot. If he got her alone in the cemetery, she’d put out. She’d dropped her panties quick enough for that freshman jerk, Parker. She’d do the same for him.

“Would you like me to come with you? I’m good at taking out ryzarks. I killed a couple down in Belize a few months ago.”

Buffy had no intention of taking any trips through the cemetery tonight or anyplace alone in the dark with Riley. He was bound to be with the exploring hands. Besides, she was meeting Spike to patrol the Bronze and she did not want Riley tagging along on her date with Spike.

“I’m just making a quick pass. Through the cemetery, I mean. I have a lot of homework to catch up on.”

Riley accepted her excuse, partly because he’d never seen a ryzark in his life and didn’t want to take the chance of meeting up with one without proper preparation and his back up team.

They set a time to meet the following day.

***

Spike and Buffy stood under the stairs at the Bronze where her friends couldn’t see them making out.

“Come back to my crypt, pet. You’re driving me dozy. I’ll take you to the Demolition Derby later. They’re having Amateur Night.” He wrapped her into the flaps of his coat so he could slide his hands onto her ass. He could always think more clearly when his hands were on her ass.

“Demo Derby is tempting, but no way. My mom had a goat about my grades this afternoon. I have to study.” She also had an errand to run that wouldn’t wait. Spike was not on a need to know basis about this errand, either. She hoped she’d be able to dodge him long enough to get it taken care of.

“I have a subject you could study,” he said. He nuzzled her neck and pressed her hand on his crotch. He was definitely not interested in Buffy leaving him in this condition while she flounced off to her dorm room to read some boring text book.

He’d missed her this afternoon when she didn’t come by for her kip. He didn’t like sharing her with her friends and school and slaying and the chuff-all she involved herself in. He liked sharing her even less now that he’d half made up his mind he was in love with her. She should concentrate on him.

“I’m pretty familiar with this material,” she said as she stroked him and forced herself not to pull his zipper down. “I think I could pass the test.”

“You could, luv, but you might need to cram. Let’s go out in the alley and you can get hands-on experience.”

He gave her a toe-curling kiss to convince her.

She broke the kiss. “I’m leaving, perv. You can come by my room later. Willow is staying someplace else tonight. Don’t forget to bring the things.” Just in case we need them after all.

Spike snorted in exasperation. Buffy obsessed over those damn condoms.

He wanted to run an errand on campus himself. He could pick up the bloody condoms and take care of his errand while Buffy was studying.

***

The Psych Department hallway was dimly lit by an emergency exit light. Spike paused to listen for the sound of any late-night visitors, and, hearing nothing, walked down the hall to Professor Walsh’s door.

The door didn’t appear to be wired with an alarm, so he jerked the handle and broke the lock. After another moment, when no alarm sounded, he eased the door open and went inside the office and turned on the light.

He busted open some locked file cabinets and flipped through some of the files, but they weren’t interesting, just some crap about computer security breaches. He tossed the files on the floor.

“Think you can nag me like I’m your lawfully wedded, do you, about those damn condoms? Being damn petty about it, if you ask me.”

He jimmied open the professor’s desk drawers with a metal letter opener which she left lying on top of her desk. The middle drawer contained a few dried up pens, some pencil stumps and a clump of desiccated rubber bands.

In the top left-hand drawer, he found the standard tools of the vampire killer trade – stakes, bottles of holy water, a couple of crosses and some heads of garlic

“So much for modern methods of vampire control.”

He pulled off a clove of garlic and popped it in his mouth and chewed on it and left the rest of the garlic on top of Walsh’s desk. He shoved the stakes and bottles of holy water into his coat pocket.

He flipped over the professor’s keyboard. There were two series of letters written on a slip of paper taped to the bottom of the keyboard. He copied the words on a piece of paper he found in the desk and put the paper in his coat pocket with the rest of the junk.

To his surprise, he found a large box of Vampyro Condoms in the bottom drawer. They appeared to be the same kind that Buffy fetched over to his crypt a few weeks ago.

“Vampires Always Get Invited In. Get begged to come in is more like it.” He smirked at the picture of Dracula.

The box was too big to squeeze into his pocket, so he tucked it under his arm. These ought to keep Buffy from nagging him about this birth control business for a few weeks.

In one of the side drawers, he found what he was looking for – a control box identical to the one Buffy brought to his crypt. He didn’t find a wristband, but Buffy didn’t need encouragement to have sex with him these days. The box would come in handy for other purposes. He pocketed the box and continued searching the drawers.

He tossed a few papers and books on the floor and overturned a couple of chairs. He flipped off the light and was about to leave when he heard voices. He put his ear to the glass panel in the door and listened.

“She’s mattressable,” a male voice said.

“Yeah,” another man said. “I bet she’s a wildcat in bed, if that Little Miss Slayer business isn’t all a fairy tale. And, I’m the man who is going to find out.”

The voices receded as the men continued down the hall. Spike peeked out the door to see who’d been talking. Finn. The same git who’d tried to stake Spike in his own crypt. The same one Buffy thrashed.

Had Buffy been up to something with GI Joe? Bloody hell. If he could only get rid of his chip, he’d thrash the berk himself for talking about her that way.

“Bitch, better not be two-timing me. I won’t have you running around on me with that knuckle dragger. Pushed Angel out, I’ll push Soldier Boy out of my way, too. He doesn’t have a chance once Spike turns on the charm.”

Spike saw from the faint change of light in the sky that he was late for his meeting with Buffy and hurried away.