The alarm blared, yanking him out of a very pleasant dream, and Spike
groaned, flinging his hand out, fumbling blindly for the off button.
Silence settled over the room at last and he raised his head,
squinting at the display. 7:45... well, at least the brats would be
heading for the mall soon and he'd have the house to himself for the
day. Of course, that still wouldn't help him finish his term paper by
tomorrow, and he'd have to disappoint his favorite professor again.

He swore softly and sat up, rubbing the heels of his hands into his
eyes, trying desperately to wake up. Swinging his legs over the side
of the bed, he tossed the covers aside and headed for the bathroom,
turning the shower on with a flick of his wrist. The image of himself
in the mirror blinked blearily back before the steam obscured it. He
shucked his sweatpants and stepped into the spray, practically
purring as the hot water eased him from dreams into waking, letting
him relax for several minutes before soaping up and washing his hair.
Once the water was shut off, he reached for his towel, briskly drying
off and walking naked back into the bedroom.

Pulling a fresh pair of jeans from the dresser, he stepped into them,
forgoing underwear as he usually did, then wandered over to the
closet to pick a shirt. The blue silk was nice, but he wanted it for
class, so he settled on a UC Sunnydale sweatshirt instead, which he
tossed on the bed for later. He pulled his still damp hair into a
ponytail, and sat down at his desk to write. The computer screen woke
with a gentle jostle of the mouse, the same white page he'd been on
last night greeting him this morning.

'St Crispin's Day and Puck's Speech: Monologues in Shakespeare'.
Well, that took care of the title, anyway. Spike scowled at the
blinking cursor and blank screen that mocked him. Ordinarily he'd
just type a jumble of things from reading and lecture thrown all
together, but this was for Pryce's class, and he really wanted to do
a good job. Pryce seemed to think that Will actually had some talent
when it came to writing, and he didn't want to give less than his
best here. It felt... nice, having someone actually expect something
worthwhile from him.

"WII-LLL! PHONE!" He groaned as Anya's shrill voice echoed through
the upstairs. Was it too much to ask that the chits leave him alone
when he was studying? It was probably just one of the girls from last
weekend, anyway.

"TAKE A MESSAGE!"

"It's Angel!"

He pushed himself away from the desk and went downstairs to fetch the
phone, trying to remind himself that he'd done the right thing in
taking the one in his room out to make for better study space. Giving
his sister a mock glare as he snatched the handset from her hand, he
muttered, "Still not givin' you my credit card, ya know."

He ignored her rising whine of "But Wiiiiiilllll!" and headed back
upstairs. Once he was behind his bedroom door and away from gossipy
little ears, he raised the phone. "Angel, what's up?"