Jason spotted the red flame of her hair from a distance. He had stopped to call Anita to find out who his ride was, and where he was supposed to meet said ride.

It turned out that Nathanial was picking him up so that they could ride to work together after Jason had done his pomme de sang duties. And Nathaniel, if he had been on time, had been waiting for awhile already. But when he had seen the flash of red, Jason figured that now was as good a time as any to talk to her about ‘catching up’ in anthropology.

Professor Enns seemed quite convinced that they could help each other with the work that they had missed. And, coincidentally, they had started with werewolves and their society in class. He knew that he really didn’t need a study partner, especially for the subject at hand, but his instructor had thought the girl could help him. Besides, if it meant that he got to spend time with a good looking red head, well, who was he to complain?

He went to call out to her, and realized that he couldn’t recall her name. Something to do with vegetation. A tree, of some sort, he thought.

She was quite far ahead of him now, and looked to be heading to her car. ‘Ah, hell with it’ Jason thought to himself, ‘if it pisses her off, I’ll make up for it later.’

“Tree-girl!” he shouted, frowning. That made no sense at all! “Hey, Red!” Well, that was mildly better.

Willow had heard the shout, and thought that whoever it was gave their friends weird nicknames. But when it was followed up with a “Hey, Red” she knew the person meant her. After all, Willow was a type of tree, right? And that, combined with one of Spike’s multitude of monikers for her, and the person really couldn’t mean anyone else. She wondered who it could be before she stopped to turn around. After all, it was only her first day, and she really didn’t know anybody. Even if he couldn’t think of her name, he at least knew that it had to do with a tree.

Her question was answered when she turned around and found herself face to face with the blonde from her anthropology class.

‘Oh! He sure moves fast,’ she thought to herself. She could have sworn that he had been calling her from much further away then that. But before she could ponder it further, the feeling of familiarity that she had gotten from him earlier swept over her again. It started to add up in her agile mind. He moved fast, he felt familiar, kind of like home, and he could help her catch up in class. A preternatural anthropology class. A class that was currently studying the cultural dynamics of werewolf packs.

It all made sense now. “You’re a puppy!” came out of Willow’s mouth before she even thought about it twice. She slammed the hand that wasn’t clutching her textbooks over her mouth, as if she could shove the words back inside. But she couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry! That was just so rude. I just kind of, well, it all of a sudden occurred to me, well, I figured out what you were, why you could help me catch up in class when I’m all the book girl, and I just had to say it. I mean, it just popped out of my mouth before I could stop it, I’m sorry, really, but my mouth seems to work independently of my mind sometimes, and I really hope that I didn’t offend you . . . .”

Jason cut her off when he thought that she’d better breathe again, or he would have a fainting girl on his hands. And although he didn’t mind swooning women, he really didn’t want her to babble herself into a faint.

“It’s okay. Tree-girl wasn’t the smoothest thing that I could have said either. And you’re not wrong. I mean, you can obviously sense it, right? Must be the magic that I can sense on you. Witch, would be my guess.”

”You’re not wrong.” she echoed him, her face red with embarrassment and her flood of words. “But I’m sorry. You could have been trying to keep it to yourself.”

“Well, I thought about it, but our professor knows. And it’s kind of pointless to deny it when I work at Guilty Pleasures.”

Angel had told her about the club, owned by the Master of St. Louis. If he worked there, judging by his looks, he was probably one of the entertainers. And, as far as Willow knew, the entertainers were all of the supernatural variety.

That thought caused Willow to go from a slightly pink blush, to the flaming color of her hair.

He had noticed the color she was turning, and thought about how much fun it was going to be to tease this girl. Especially if she flushed such a fascinating color every time that he did it.

“And, before you ask, no, I’m not a waiter there.” He favored her with a very wolfish grin, reminding her again of what he was

Well that sealed it. “Oh, so you are a . . . “

She trailed off, not even being able to say the word. She couldn’t believe it, and gave herself a mental shake. Willow couldn’t believe she, who had had a girlfriend, was reacting like this over finding out that Jason was a stripper. He was male, after all. Not exactly her type. It shouldn’t have mattered to her a bit. But she was still all of a sudden feeling like that long ago teenager with a crush on her best friend. Inexperienced and embarrassed.

“The entertainment?” he supplied, realizing that the term stripper was causing her some embarrassment, and not wanting to shake her too much on the first day. “Yeah. But that’s not the point. Since I am, I’m obviously not human, given the reputation of the place. And, since I’m standing out here with you in the sun, I’m obviously not a vampire.”

Had Willow not already felt what it was he truly was, she might have been checking his hands for a fancy ring of some sort. But she had felt the truth.

“So, puppy. I mean, wolf,” she announced, once again flushing to match her hair.

“So, yeah, I’m puppy, you’re tree-girl.” He chuckled. “Why don’t we try this again?” He held out his hand to her in a very formal manner.

“Jason Schulyer, at your service.”

“Willow Rosenberg,” she said, as she extended her hand, expecting a firm handshake.

Instead, Jason took her hand in his, turned it, and placed a kiss against her knuckled. It was a trick he had picked up from Jean-Clause, and it had always seemed to impress the hell out of the ladies.

Willow decided to go along with the formality. She dropped her head in a submissive gesture and curtsied. “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” It was all going well until she attempted to pronounce his last name, “Mr. Shy. . . .Schy . . .”

He laughed. “Schu, not Shy.”

“Obviously not,” she replied, glancing down at their hands, which were still joined, his thumb lightly caressing her knuckles. “You don’t strike me as the shy type at all.”

He laughed, and finally released her hand, but not without giving it one last caress.

“But you are a tree-girl, and I am a puppy. Willow is a tree, after all.” She nodded at his statement. “So, nice to meet you, tree-girl.”

“If you keep calling me that, I’m going to call you shy-boy.”

“Even if it doesn’t apply?”

“Oh, in a sarcastic way, of course.”

He snickered, finding that he liked her sense of irony and humor. “Right, because strippers would be the antithesis of shy, wouldn’t you say?”

She flushed again at the word stripper, but not as darkly. She would have to get used to it, she supposed, if she was going to be studying with Jason. She also managed a small laugh at his comment, because he was pretty much correct. “So, shy-guy and tree-girl it is.”

”Not shy-boy?”

“Nah.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Shy-guy sounds better. It rhymes, easier to say.”

They had been walking since he had released her hand, and they were now at her car. She opened the door, and relieved herself of her books, turning back around to see that the wolf was standing close to her. “So, Shy-guy, what was it that you wanted in the first place?”

“Well, I thought that we’d better set up some study time. Also, I know what it is that I have to offer,” he paused, looking her up and down. “To the studying, I mean. But what about you?”

His mouth turned up in a half grin, and she wondered if she should tell him what it was she had to offer. Living on the Hellmouth was most of her contribution. But she thought better of it. Telling him that would give her a clue that she was not only a witch, but the witch. Stories like that tended to travel in supernatural circles. After all, the things she had done could land her in jail in St. Louis. And that was a place that she didn’t want to be. So, she went with the other thing that always proved useful in a study situation.

“Well?” he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, sorry. I’m academic girl. I can help with study planning, reviewing, essay writing, things like that.”

“Oh, okay, makes sense.” He gave her another lingering look, and she wondered if she shouldn’t share the fact that flirting with her would get him nowhere. But before she could, he looked towards the sky, and it seemed to bring him a realization.

The setting sun made Jason see that he and Nathaniel would be hard pressed to make it to the Circus before the vampires awoke for the evening. “I have to run, but can I get your number? I’ll call when I get my break tonight to set up a study date.”

Willow leaned back into the car to grab a paper and pen, writing her number out.

She handed it to him, along with the pen so that he could give her his number as well.

“I’ll give you my cell number,” he told her. “Because I’m rarely home, and I don’t know yet if my roommate can relay a message.’

“Forgetful?” she asked.

“Nah, Dan just doesn’t talk unless he has to.” He looked down to write his number and saw that she had scrawled ‘Tree-Girl’ over her number instead of Willow. He laughed and wrote down ‘Shy-Guy’ above his number, tore the page, and gave her the half with his info.

“I’d stay, but I have to go to work.” He turned to jog to the place that Nathaniel was waiting, calling to her over his shoulder. “I’ll call you after my first number, Tree-Girl. Or you could come and watch!”

That was his parting remark as Willow turned to get into her car. She’d really have to tell him that he really wasn’t her type sometime. Or, more specifically, her gender. ‘Or not,’ she thought to herself. ‘It’s kind of nice to be flirted with.’ The thought left her with a smile on her face, something there had been far too few of lately.