Chapter 2: Welcome to the Hellmouth

Sunnydale High the den of all that was evil within Sunnydale, he shivered, the worst scum hole in the town. Sighing, with his backpack on his shoulders Devon made his way back to school for another day of torture, up the steps and into the school just as the bell went off and students poured into the corridor.

He pushed his way through the crowd to walk through the corridor to his first class, English, and today they were doing creative writing; humorously enough they had to create a story. As his memory was now nearly eidetic he figured that he could write out several stories from his time period, he wrote down the intro for the TV show Lost and handed it into the teacher at the end of class. Eh, he thought, 'it's not like they can sue me for plagiarism, it hasn't come to television yet'.

His teacher seemed surprised by his rapid completion of the assignment and thanked him for handing it in so quickly. Next was history, mostly American stuff but that was understandable being that he was no longer "across the pond." Devon did struggle in this class, what with him being British and all, but most of the general stuff he was able to keep up on. It was in math that he excelled, holding advanced degrees and a background in math in his last life certainly helped out.

Being that this was Sunnydale, it was a natural instinct for people to notice things "out of the normal," even if only on a suppressed subconscious level. Naturally, by lunch the teachers had started to notice a remarkable change in him. Compared to his "old self," the teachers thought Devon seemed to be more mature and actually gave a shit about his work. Of course this meant he was a prime target for bullies.

One of them cornered him in the hallway, "Well little Devon is a little suck up." Devon figured that he should have remembered this about the Buffyverse, as Xander was always picked on by the jocks of the school.

Devon scowled, one of the other "popular" students shouted 'Teachers pet, ' and they all burst out giggling. As the mob mentality kicked in with the kids giggling, Frankie cracked his knuckles, playing up for the crowd, and then went for a right hook. Devon saw it coming and decided not to react, instead he stood up straight and let the blow hit him, with a crack it slammed into his face and pushed him back against the lockers.

'Offense is the best Defence, ' Devon thought, "But plausible deniability is golden." Just as Frankie pulled back for another slug at the strangely smirking Devon, he was hit by what felt like a freight truck going 80 miles an hour, lifting up into the air, propelled by his balls that where in immediate contact with the steel toe of Devon's boot; Frankie never saw it coming. Devon's foot hit the home run, slamming up into the jocks nut sack, the hallway fell quiet as Frankie's eyes went cross eyed, his mouth opened in a silent scream that came out as a breathy whisper, and he reached down and cupped his boys, waiver back and forth unsteadily. Devon walked up and with a long extended finger pushed him over onto his ass and knocking Frankie out when his head hit the wall of lockers.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall."

Everyone clapped and hooted, Devon could feel his cheek swelling up as the teachers pushed their way through the students.

The coach looked on the verge of a breakdown as his team player was out of the game for at least a month and started ranting at him, fortunately Devon was stood up for by the new instructor, Mr Giles, the librarian.

"Actually I saw the whole thing, I was coming to stop it but was too late, I daresay Mister Masters was protecting himself."

"Well you fucking do, do you?" He turned to Devon, "Now what the fuck am I going to do, my best player out!"

"Well that was quite a kick and quick reaction Mister Masters displayed," the Principle said as he walked over, Flutie grinned despite one of the 'star students' in a semi-conscious state on the floor. "Perhaps you could put him on a trial run?"

The coach eyed Devon, "what do you think?"

Devon shrugged, "Sure I'll give it a whack," he looked at Frankie and winced at his poor choice of words, "The ball I mean." The men around Devon grimacing along with him this time, much to Devon's chagrin.

The ambulance was called, as were the police. Devon's mother was informed and she came in to see what was going on, telling the school that she was taking him home for the rest of the day. On the way home he told her about what happened and she shook her head, "Why'd you let him hit you first?"

"In the court of law its only self defence if he hits you first, so I let him slug me one." She laughed and patted his arm.