By the end of the day they'd already played three games of volleyball (Cordelia adamantly declined, refusing to participate in any activity where balls flew at her face. Xander proceeded to make vulgar jokes about that one), had a castle making contest (Anya's castle was by far the best, consisting of a backyard, a pool, indoor plumbing, and a local bank), ate barbeque (grilled by Willow and Oz on one of those beach-owned grills. The way they got the fire to work was like magic if anyone asked him), competed in a round of foot races (he could swear that Buffy was some sort of Olympian she was so bloody fast!), and played go-fish (the only activity that Xander dominated with glee).
Yeah, he was having a damn good time. Not that he'd openly admit that to any of these wankers.
They sat around a small fire as the sun began to set, allowing a soft chill to breeze over them comfortably.
"Hey Wills can you please pass me another juice box?" Xander requested to the red head cuddled up next to her boyfriend.
"Isn't that like the 10th beverage you've had today Xander?" Buffy wondered as Willow tossed him the drink.
"No worries here," he answered, poking the juice box with a straw. "My bladder is capable of holding large amounts of fluid."
They all looked at him oddly.
"Ok... I probably should have left my bladder out of this one huh?"
"Here’s me wishing you had,” Buffy agreed.
“I second that,” added Anya.
They sat around some more, laughing and recounting some of the day's events when they heard some music start up from a nearby boom box.
"Oh my god, I love this song!" Cordelia exclaimed when the beginning riffs to the song played. "Let's dance!" She grabbed Anya and dragged her a few feet away from the group. "Don't bother joining us!" She yelled back. "I'm sure you losers don't know how to dance anyway!"
Buffy and Willow shared a smile across the fire. "I think that's Cordy's way of inviting us to join them," Willow deciphered.
Buffy stood up and extended a hand out to her best friend. "Would you care to take this dance m'lady?" she offered with a bright smile.
"Well of course, kind sir," Willow answered, taking the other girl's hand. They skipped to where Cordelia and Anya were and began to dance and giggle like girls do.
"I'll say this was a good day," Oz affirmed to the other two boys, lightly strumming on the guitar he'd brought with him.
"Well how could it not've been?" Spike agreed, pulling out a cigarette. "I mean, look who we were with." He nodded to the beautiful dancing girls in the near distance. By the middle of the day Anya and Cordelia had finally
Xander sighed. "I think I'll chock this up to being one of the top three days of my life. You know, right after my birth and the day I eventually get married."
"Oh, you mean when you get married to Cordelia?" Spike teased, receiving a well-aimed beach ball to the chest. "I'm just sayin'!" Spike laughed, tossing the ball back at Xander. "I saw you givin' her the sexy eye, mate."
Oz chuckled, continuing to strum his guitar.
"I was not giving her the sexy eye, mate! She likes guys like you. You've got the whole sexy Hugh Jackman British bad boy thing going for you."
Spike gasped, putting a shocked hand to his chest. "Why Xander, you think I'm sexy? Well I never! Don' usually swing that way but for you--"
"Finish that sentence and I think I may just have to kill you."
"Hugh Jackman's Australian, not British," Oz corrected.
Spike shook his head and puffed his cigarette thoughtfully before sharing, "She fancies you, mate."
Xander snorted. "Yeah she fancies me. About as much as she fancies knock off purses."
"She likes you, Harris. Trust me, when a girl lets you jump all over her repeatedly during a game of faux-football, she wants you. Of course, she has t' put on an act, on account of you bein' such a loser an' all. But she fancies you."
"Even after the shameless flirt fest you two were having?"
“Yes,” he answered simply.
Xander smiled smugly, resting his hands behind his head and lying back into the sand. “I knew it. It must be the chocolate hero looks that did it.”
Spike and Oz shared amused glances.
“So what about you Spike-O?” Xander wondered. “What kinda girls are you interested in?”
Spike glanced over at the dancing girls, focusing on a particularly petite and fiery young blonde. He watched as her hot little ass rocked fiercely to the music. That shampoo commercial hair of hers bounced around wildly a she danced with the other girls. Still wearing a sexy bikini top and shorts, she made Spike want to do all sorts of illegal things.
'Get a hold of yourself, mate,'' Spike thought. 'Illegal things are what got you here in the first place. An’ besides, this is Buffy we’re talkin’ about—bitchy, unfuckable, and not your type.
He tore his gaze away from her. “What kind of girls am I interested in?” he repeated. “The ones that don’t expect a call after I shag ‘em once or twice.” The other two chuckled and shook their heads at him. Spike was pretty much hopeless.
“Don’t let those girls hear that,” Xander motioned toward the dancing foursome. “Buffy’d probably tear your head off. She hates your guts enough as it is.”
Spike snorted. “I’d like to see her try. Don’t know how that poofter Angel puts up with her.” He tossed his cigarette off to the side and tried to appear nonchalant when he asked, “Hey what’s the deal with them anyway?”
Xander and Oz sighed simultaneously. How could Spike ever understand their tumultuous relationship? Spike could never understand Buffy's destiny as Slayer and Angel's status as a half demon. He could never comprehend what it meant to be forced into a life of killing demons and then finding yourself falling in love with one. What it meant to love someone who couldn't love himself.
"Let's just say there's baggage there."
Spike shook his head. "Don’ know why the bloody wanker won’t just shag the girl. She’s obviously hot for it."
Xander shook his own head. "She's more than just a 'shag,' Spike. And, for the record if you say anymore about her, I’ll probably have to do something macho like threaten to kick your ass.”
Spike raised a scarred eyebrow in a way that said, "I'd like to see you try."
"Hey, I could so kick your ass. I was in the army!"
Spike raised another eyebrow. "You were in the--"
"Forget it." Xander didn't feel like explaining how things worked in Sunnydale. One minute you were innocently trick-or-treating, and the next minute you were going all Private Ryan on everyone. "Just keep in mind that she's not your average girl."
"Well, 'M not your average guy." And he meant it too.
At that moment, the girls came back in high spirits, still giggling.
"Well I'll admit, this day wasn't a bust like I thought it would be," Anya conceded, taking a seat on the sand.
Cordelia nodded. "Yeah, it actually wasn't that bad. I mean, as freaky as you all are, you're ok. With that said, however, I wouldn't dream of hanging out with you losers again. Excluding Spike, of course.” She stroked his arm. “I mean, I do have a reputation to uphold." Cordy smiled, convinced she'd just given them a compliment.
"It was great spending the day with you too Cordy," Xander responded. "And by 'great' I mean 'I'd've rather frolicked within the deep gates of a hot and burning hell.'"
"Oh please Xander," she answered back. "This is probably the last time I'll be around you on purpose. I suggest you cherish this moment."
Spike shook his head at the pair. So much for his Cordelia-fancies-Xander theory.
“Anyone wanna tell ghost stories?” Willow asked, determined to finish the night off with one last sprinkle of extravaganza. “It’s getting dark…a perfect time for scary tales.”
“Oh great,” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Creepy scary stories with creepy people.”
“I fancy m’self a nice ghost story,” Spike agreed. “I don’t scare too easily though. I just like when the girlies get all frightened and jump into my arms.”
“I’d like to vote a big ‘nay’ on the story telling time,” Buffy said, ignoring Spike’s comment. “For some reason I just can’t get into all the death and blood that comes with those stories.”
Spike glanced at her. “What’s wrong luv? You scared? Monsters don’t exist you know. It’s all make-believe.”
“No, I’m not scared,” she answered. “I see enough blood and death on a daily basis. No need to hear stories about it.”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “You see blood and death on a daily basis? What are you, Sunnydale’s village mortician?”
Buffy realized she’d said more than she’d meant to. “Uh…no…I…uh…”
“She’s a volunteer for Sunnydale hospital,” Willow covered. “Wherever there’s death and blood, Buffy’s your hospital, volunteer girl,” she finished a bit lamely.
Spike nodded skeptically.
Anya rolled her eyes. "Well, it's been fun," she announced, packing her things, "But I'm leaving now. School starts in a week and I must draw up plans to seduce Mr. Wyndham-Pryce."
They all looked up at her.
"You mean our English teacher, Wyndham-Pryce?" Buffy asked. "Isn't he like, a decade older than you?"
Anya sighed, as if she were dealing with small children. "Of course he's older than me Buffy. That's kind of the whole point. I'm sure you understand since Angel's a few years older than you."
"Yeah. But Angel wasn't around when Milli Vanilli was the hot new thing."
“Or when those God-awful looking guys from Tears For Fears ruled the 80s,” Cordelia chimed in.
"Oh! Or uh, when Madonna was still like a virgin," Willow added helpfully.
Xander laughed. "Or when Molly Ringwald was considered a babe."
"Molly Ringwald was cute," Oz defended. "She was a babe in the one with the candles."
Willow gave him a curious look. "I didn't know you thought Molly Ringwald was 'a babe'."
Oz smiled. Willow was so adorable when she did the pouty lip, kinda jealous thing. "What can I say, I have a thing for red heads."
Willow smiled. That made her feel better.
Anya rolled her eyes. "And this is exactly why I avoid you guys. I'm ready to make my exit now. You coming Cordelia?"
"The answer to that is a definite and resounding 'yes,'" she answered. "As soon as I find my sunglasses. They seem to have gotten misplaced after a certain someone decided he wanted to tackle me all over the place." She glared at Xander for emphasis.
He smiled back at her smugly, taking a slurp from his juice box.
Anya sighed. "Meet me at the car," she said before grabbing her things and walking off without so much as a formal goodbye.
"Ya know, Cordy," Xander began, still slurping his drink in that irritating way, "I'm sure you have another pair of those glasses lying somewhere around Daddy's mansion."
Cordelia glared at him. "They're custom Prada," she said as if that were all the explanation needed.
He put his hands up in defense. "Yikes, Prada. My mistake. Look, Cordy, why don't I help you find your sunglasses? Maybe they're somewhere by the water. We could search along the shore or something."
She eyed him suspiciously.
"C'mon Cordelia. It could be like a designer scavenger hunt! And plus, it'll probably be the last time you're around me on purpose, right?" he finished, tossing her words back at her.
She mulled it over for a second. "Fine Harris. No funny business though."
Spike winked at Xander as the two got up to leave. Xander gave him the thumbs up and proceeded to argue with Cordelia all the way down to the shore.
"What was that all about?" Buffy asked Spike.
"What was what all about?" he feigned ignorance.
"That whole secret-winky thing you just did with Xander.”
"Oh, that?" He sighed in that irritating way. "It's a guy thing. You wouldn't understand princess."
She sighed right back and wondered why she even tried with this guy. Anyway, she would rather make conversation with Willow and Oz, who were unfortunately immersed in each other. Willow giggled as her boyfriend softly sang some silly lyrics to her while playing the guitar. He whispered something in her ear, which made her laugh even more.
"We're gonna head to the van," Willow announced to Buffy and Spike as her and Oz began to pack up their things. "Catch up to us soon?"
"Sure," Buffy agreed, although she wanted to beg her friends not to leave her alone with the infuriating bleached wonder. "I'll just be here. Waiting for Xander to get back." She watched as the two left, her last hope for intelligent civilization fading into the distance.
"So what do ya think? Van sex?"
Buffy looked at him. "What?"
"Your mates. Red and Oz. You think they went off t' have a quick shag in the van?"
"God, is that all you think about?"
"What? Van sex?"
"No, sex in general. It's disturbing."
He chuckled and moved closer, making her shiver when his arm brushed against hers softly.
“Look Summers, I can't help it if I'm a teenage boy with a perfectly healthy libido.”
“Yeah, well it would help us all if you toned it down there, Ron Jeremy.”
He laughed and leaned back on his elbows as they both looked out to the horizon. The sun was finally setting, painting the sky with vibrant pink and purple hues. Out in the distance he spotted a small sailboat. Hopefully it’d get back to dry land before it got too dark out, he thought idly.
He glanced at the girl next to him. She had her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them with her chin resting on her arms. She looked to be in deep thought.
He couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked, strands of her hair gently blowing in the mild breeze, the bonfire softly lighting up her face. If only she could be like this all the time.
“So what’s this thing goin’ on between you an’ me then?” he asked curiously.
She turned to him, surprised at his blunt and sudden question. “Between you and me?”
He nodded.
There may have been a little flirting going on earlier after the football game, she thought. But as far as a thing going on between them?
“Th-there’s nothing going on between…you and me,” she sputtered. “I happen to have someone already, and his name is Angel. I don’t know how you do it in England, but here in the States we like to keep it monogamous, although I’m sure you’re more of a have-sex-with-more-than-one-girl-at-a-time kind of guy. And by that, I don’t mean, like, you having actual sex with more than one girl, like a threesome or whatever, but I meant you probably like to date more than one girl at the same time. Not that a threesome is bad or anything it’s just not my thing, but to each his own right? I mean, it’s not my penis, it’s yours.” Her eyes widened in embarrassment. “Not that I’m worried about your penis, or that I’ve even thought about your penis in any context. It’s not like…”
She stopped when she finally noticed his irritatingly cocky grin. “I meant friendship, Summers. We did enjoy almost a whole day of not arguing. I don’ know how my penis got anywhere into this conversation. Unless, of course… you want t’ be friends with my penis.”
She flushed in embarrassment. That was definitely a Willow moment if she’d ever had one. What was it about this guy that got her so worked up? “Oh, friendship.” She pretended to ponder for a moment. “I think I’ll pass.”
He nodded, conceding. “Can’t handle the fact that I’m a sexy beast, I presume?”
She rolled her eyes, fighting back a smile. “The ‘sexy’ part…not so much. But the part about the beast? A definite yes.”
“Liar.” He laughed quietly and leaned back on his elbows. He scooped up a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers slowly into the wind.
“So you’re sure about that whole ‘no friends’ thing right?” he pressed after a silent moment. She didn’t answer him. “C’mon pet. Once in a lifetime opportunity here. If I’m prepared to live with the fact tha’ you’re a spoiled brat, then you can at least attempt t’ tolerate my irresistible charm an’ unchallenged wit.”
Buffy bit back another smile. She didn’t want to encourage him too much. “Fine,” she finally answered. “We can be friends.” She shook his hand, trying not to notice how his blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
“So what do we do now?” she asked, arms still wrapped around her legs. “Make with the secret BFF handshake?”
“I dunno.” He moved even closer to her, leg brushing up against hers this time.
She tried to keep her breathing in check. She’d noticed that Spike was not at all uncomfortable with getting close. Maybe it was some kind of malfunction in British social cues, but whatever it was, it was making her feel all hot inside.
“Guess we’ve gotta spill our deepest darkest secrets, an’ all that rot. It’s what friends do right?” Spike waited a moment before asking, “So did you ever give Angel the goods that night?”
She continued to watch the sky turn dark, and shook her head, immune to his vulgar speech. “No.”
Spike breathed an unconscious sigh of relief. “You two seemed pretty cozy from my window.”
Her eyes widened. “Spying much? Geez Spike, I knew you were odd, I didn’t think you were stalker material.”
He scoffed. “Look Summers, ‘M sorry if you had your window wide open for everyone in the neighborhood t’ see. The scene just screamed Joey and Dawson by the way, if you wanna know the truth.”
“Yeah, well you spying on me from your window screams freaky Mark Wahlberg in that movie where he was stalking Reese Witherspoon.”
He ignored her. “So what’s the story with you two? We’re friends now so you ‘ave to tell me.”
She sighed, wondering if she should take back that whole friendship vow. “I don’t talk boyfriends on the first date.”
“Is that what this is? A date?” he asked in a low voice.
Her heart did this funny fluttering thing and she refrained from looking at him. “I was being sardonic.”
“You should brush up on those sardonic skills.”
“How about this? What are your hobbies? What do you like to do?” There, that seems like a safe topic,” she thought.
He pondered for a moment. Dust vamps. Kill monsters. Train. Fuck girls. No, that won’t do “I play music. Like the guitar an’ stuff like that,” he answered. “What about you?”
“I like to dance. I used to do the whole cheerleading thing.”
He nodded. “Figures.”
She finally glanced at him. “Figures? What does that mean?”
“I mean that ‘M not surprised. A girl like you, you prolly spend most of your time shoppin’ an’ cheerleadin’ an’ doin’ your nails. Let’s be honest.”
“A girl like me?” The warmth she was feeling in her stomach quickly began to dissapate.
“Yeah. No responsibilities. Not a care in the world. Rely on Mummy and Daddy to get things done. That kind of girl. No offense.”
“You have no clue what you’re talking about Spike.” She stood up, angry at his sexist comments.
He stretched his neck to look up at her. “Sure I do. The only thing you ‘ave to worry about is how your hair looks. Once again, no offense. We’re friends, so we can be honest with each other right?”
Buffy grabbed a nearby water bottle, opening it up and pouring its contents onto his head. “You can forget about that friendship thing, Spike,” she growled, packing up her things and walking away angrily. “I should kick your ass and show you just how friendly I can be.” She was going to patrol for a few hours. God help the vamps that crossed her path tonight.
Spike sat there drenched and confused about what he’d said wrong. Girls were just so damn sensitive nowadays.