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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for continuing to read my little ditty. Reviews still welcome. And a big thanks to dampersandspoons for betaing and again with the Disclaiming: The characters are not mine and are used purely for entertainment purposes with no copyright infringing intended.

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Warning: There are some distinctly British things in this chapter. If you are easily shocked or offended by the British or anything they have or will create, please read ahead with caution. Same goes with puns.
Chapter Five: Radio Jerks

I woke up and Faith was singing in the shower. Horribly. And to make matters worse, it was not a song from her typical music catalogue. It was Celine Dion. Declaration of Love floating out of our shared bathroom. I groaned and rolled over. Last night I hadn’t bothered to remove my ruined dress. Grumpily, I walked into the kitchen to pour a mug of coffee.

“Morning, B.” Her dark hair was wrapped up in a towel and her body was covered with another. She was probably coming in from the night rather than starting the day.

“Good look you got going on there. Working the hangover-chic.” I smirked at her and sipped from the steaming hot coffee. Brain no workey in the mornings.

“So, are you going to tell me about this William guy? Xander said something about a phone call.”

“He called me again? Did he leave a message?”

She looked at my eager face and laughed. I tried to swat her with the nearest tea towel as she walked towards her room.

“You’ll have to ask Xander when he wakes up.”

Twenty minutes later and I was rushing around trying to put stuff into my laptop bag when Xander emerged from his bedroom.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily and looked towards the empty coffee pot.

“Morning, Buff.”

I nearly toppled him with my rain of fists.

“Ow, stop punching me Buffy. I joke wust up. I mean I just woke up.”

“Did he call? Did he leave me a message? Did he respond to my message?”

“Who are you talking about?” He moved around the kitchen like a sloth, making himself a pot of tea.

“William!”

My alarm went off on my phone but I didn’t move because Xander hadn’t given me an answer.

“Buff, your alarm. Doesn’t that mean you should go?”

I huffed and grabbed my laptop bag and ran out of the door into the super early morning’s still-dark air.

****


I rolled over and groaned. Night shift was horrible and I forgot that I had to stay awake until I finished class today. The radio woke me when it flicked on at 6am. I’d only been home for half an hour and I had to go again. Bloody seven thirty class. There should be a rule for creative people about early mornings being banned. The breakfast radio hosts were announcing their guests for the morning before a Midnight Oil track ran across the airwaves. I pushed myself out of the comfy bed and moved into the kitchen lounge room. Ripper was still asleep, sprawled on the futon with the TV buzzing quietly.

I pulled out the tea strainers and set about making a nice real cuppa before I saw the message machine blinking. Instantly, the placeholder card sprung into my mind and without a thought for Ripper I pressed play.

“Hi, um William, it’s Buffy. I was just wondering whether you’d like to see me sometime and…well,” her tone turned from nervous to seductive. “You have my number.”

The minx tried to manipulate me into making the decisions. We were never going to get anywhere until I grew the stones to just ask her out on a date. But right now my stones had practically evaporated. I got so nervous around her, even though I try to hide it, it’s like I’m popping my cherry all over again.

Two could play at her game.

I dialled her number with a quick glance into my bedroom where her picture hung. Just as I expected the phone to go through to the message bank, a familiar male voice answered.

“Ah, um, is Buffy there?”

“No. She’s on the radio. Is this William?”

“Yeah mate, what’s it to you?”

“She was harassing me this morning about whether you called her back.”

I smirked and the guy continued.

“We’re having a bit of a get together tonight. Do you want to come so she can harass you rather than me?”

I accepted and he began to prattle off details. I scribbled down her address and tuned him out when I heard her voice filter through my apartment from the radio beside my bed.

“Ah, thanks mate.” And I hung up on the blighter so I could hear my girl talk about her new book.

****


Chickens with problems. I can’t believe that’s what I jokingly said to those breakfast show hosts my new book would be called. I was cornered. Backed into a hole. Desperately trying to back peddle. Stupid hosts asked me about my love life and I choked on my third coffee of the morning.

“Isn’t that a personal question, Jerry?”

“Yeah, Jerry, leave the poor woman alone. So, have you got a man in your life?” Jerry’s consort Mona asked, following the snarky guide to radio interviews: the personal question with a joke at the end.

“Kinda.”

“So how long ago did you meet him, Anne?”

“A while ago. It seems like forever.”

“And are there plans for a Mr Summers?” My chagrin expression caused Jerry and Mona to heartily laugh.

“I see you two haven’t discussed it. Does he have a name?”

“Yes.” I was flatly refusing to answer them so I just became silent, which only made their laughter heartier.

“So tell me Anne, you know girl to girl, is he the reason why you were late to the studio this morning?” I blushed heavily but I knew I could fight whatever they threw at me.

“Well Mona, girl to girl, you know that I’m going to blame the early morning traffic.” She smiled beneath her headphones and Jerry cleared his throat with a laugh.

“And at that we shall leave Ms Anne Summers and her delectable new book The Irish Days and the up and coming Chickens with Problems to play some music. This is Jerry and Mona’s Breakfast on 109.4.”

The ON AIR sign was switched off and I pushed the microphone away.

“You two are like vultures. Thanks for picking at my bones.”

“Thanks for playing along with the quick comebacks. Not everyone is that fast.”

I smiled and stood as Mona brought in the producer for a couple of promo shots before I left to go get devoured by the next radio sharks.

****

Those jerks! They bloody backed her into a corner and I really wanted to hear what she said. Kinda. What kinda answer was kinda? She kinda has a man in her life. I would show the bint how much of a man I was tonight.

God, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I dreamt about her during the lecture on famous incestuous relationships within modern literature. I had fallen asleep as the PHD student talked. My gut churned at the thought of seeing her again tonight. My breath hitched, stuck in the back of my throat.

“Oi, mate, wake up. You got to get to your great books class.”

I groaned and tried to shake her out of my thoughts. I needed to focus on Dickens. The damn tutor for the classical literature class was making jokes as I trudged into the room only to groan again. The only seat left was beside a ditz of a thing, Harmony. There was no way she even knew what classical literature was, let alone get into university.

“Have you read this book? I don’t understand what it’s all about. What’s an expectation and what’s a pip?”

“God, you’re bloody useless, woman.”

She smiled and moved her skirt a little further up her leg. I ignored her and watched as the tutor scribbled notes on the whiteboard.

I knew I was asleep as soon as Harmony shook me away from delicious thoughts of eating pudding off of Buffy’s stomach. I mumbled and told the bint to leave me to my spotted dick.

“Eww, Spike. And you were moaning.”

I instantly sat up and the class around me laughed.

Thankfully, my next class was cancelled. I stepped onto the bus, vaguely hoping that she would be sitting there but instead was my worse nightmare.

“Hi Spike! Have you seen the latest Doctor Who Episode?”

Damn Ripper for inviting the little snot Andrew over that first day we moved into our apartment.

I sat down and put my headphones in but he persisted.

“The Ood were terrifying. But I think, and so do several people on my Doctor Who Forum that I moderate, like I check it every couple of hours. Well every hour if I can, which I normally can do. Anyway, we think that it has to do with Rose. I can’t believe I saw Rose! She just disappeared. But of course we all knew she was coming back from the spoilers on the net. Geez, some British people just can’t keep their mouths shut.”

I looked at him with as much vehemence as my eyes could hold.

“Oh,” he paused. “The new Star Trek comics are awesome! I can’t wait for the next manga by Wil Wheaton. ”

“Sorry Spock, I don’t speak loser.”

We walked back to the apartment building from the bus stop. I blocked out Andrew’s buzzing about a party when I finally got to my door, going inside without a further word to the nimrod. I took one look at her picture and fell asleep, thinking of Buffy as I drifted off. Later, I’d realise that I should have listened to Andrew as we were walking home. The buzz kill knew something about Buffy that I didn’t.


Chapter End Notes:
A/N For those of you who don't know, Spotted Dick is an English pudding with definitions and recipes found here (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spotted_Dick) and here (http://www.taste.com.au/recipes/9300/spotted+dick).



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