Title: A Kick From Champagne
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Summary: Buffy has too much to drink,
then Spike shows up.
Early season 6
Part Three....
Twisting the taps off, Buffy stepped out of
the shower and wrapped herself in a towel.
Back in her room, she dried her hair and
smoothed lotion with the same vanilla
scent as her bodywash into her skin.
After rummaging around in her dresser
for a nightgown, she pulled on an over
sized jersey that her father had once
brought home from a football game.
The garment was so big that it hung below
her knees, but it was soft from frequent
laundering, and it carried memories of
a time in her life when things were still
good between her parents and the
only thing she'd had to worry about
were her grades.
As she dropped her dirty clothes into
a hamper, her stomach growled, remind-
ing her that she hadn't eaten dinner yet.
Down in the kitchen, she stared into the
fridge, searching for something easy to
eat. She didn't feel like cooking only for
herself, so she grabbed the grape jelly,
then found a half empty jar of peanut butter
in the pantry and made herself a sandwich.
She took a bite of it and returned the jelly
to its sticky spot at the bottom of the
fridge.
About to reach for a can of orange soda,
her eye was caught by a dark green
bottle.
It was champagne that Giles had presented
her with on her twenty-first birthday. He'd
made a little speech about wanting Buffy's
first alcoholic beverage to be memorable.
A loud clearing of his throat by Xander
had caused her watcher to amend his
statement to her first 'legal' alcoholic
beverage.
Giles had advised her not to open it then,
but to chill it so she could enjoy it pro-
perly.
Buffy had stuck it in the back of the
refrigerator and promptly forgotten
that it was there.
Examining the label now, she could
tell that this stuff was expensive. She'd
seen enough wine lists in restaurants
to know that this particular brand of
champagne cost well over a hundred
dollars a bottle.
"Let's see how memorable you are."
She easily withdrew the cork, expecting
the loud 'POP', followed by the gush of
foamy liquid that she'd seen in so many
movies.
But, when all she got was a soft 'pop' and
no gush at all, she frowned.
"What..have you gone flat or something?"
Sniffing the contents of the bottle, she
felt a tingle in her nose that made her
sneeze.
She took one of her mother's good
crystal wine glasses from the cupboard
and filled it with a golden flow of liquid
that sparkled and fizzed.
Remembering her previous adventures
in drinking, she was prepared to wrinkle
her nose in distaste when she took an
experimental sip. Instead, she found
herself pleasantly surprised at the taste
of the wine.
"Good." She took a bigger sip. "VERY
good."
She drained the glass, refilled it, then
took both it and the bottle into the living
room. Pausing in front of the window, she
peered out and saw that it was raining
even harder.
Making herself comfortable on the sofa,
she took another sip of champagne.
As she began to feel giddily lightheaded,
she closed her eyes to enjoy the sen-
sation.
The sound of laughter startled her and
she sat up straight. "Dawn?"
After several seconds of silence, she
decided that she'd imagined the laugh,
and settled back into the fat cushions
of the sofa.
She finished the wine in her glass, then
grabbed the bottle and refilled it.
Holding it up in the mellow lamplight,
she watched the bubbles fizzle and
pop.
"Pretty." She admired the color as it
caught the light. "Almost too pretty to
drink."
Turning the stem of the glass between
her thumb and forefinger, she shrugged.
"Almost." She tossed back the wine
and stifled an unladylike burp.
She had a little difficulty lining up the
neck of the bottle with the rim of her glass,
and they connected with a sharp 'clink'.
"Shit..."
Another burst of giggling distracted
her. "All right...who the hell is doing
that?"
Common sense told her to stand up and
prepare to defend herself, but when she
swung her feet down to the floor, her
wobbly legs warned her not to try.
Somewhere in her half soused brain, Buffy
knew that she shouldn't drink anymore
of the champagne.
Disembodied laughter was a warning
that something bad was about to happen,
most likely to her.
How would it look if something evil showed
up to pick a fight and the slayer was
tipsy...hammered...plastered...bombed out
of her skull...three sheets to the wind and
the fourth one....
"Aw, screw it," she muttered as she
poured. "I'm not driving."
She polished off the glass in three long
swallows, vaguely trying to rationalize
her behavior.
**I opened the bottle and it's gonna go
flat and it was really expensive so I gotta
finish it else it'll be wasted and like mother
always said...waste not- waste not**
"No, that's wrong...it's waste not-what
not...yeah, thass it...no, thass not it...maybe
it's where not..it could be..is it why not..I
think that..."
She ran out of steam. "Never mind. Mother
said lots of stuff...I can't be esspected to
remember every little thing she said, now
can I?"
The invisible laugh track sounded off again.
"Okay, THASS IT!" Struggling to her feet,
dizziness suddenly swamped her, forcing her
to grab the am of the sofa to keep from falling
down. "I want to know WHO you are and
what the hell is sooo damn bunny...FUNNY!"
Her eyes darted around the room, peering
owlishly into the dim corners. "I got four
words for you...!"
She counted them on her fingers.
"Do-Not-Mess-With-Me!"
Wait a second.
She recounted each finger silently, her
lips moving.
"Okay! Okay, thass...thass actually five
words..BUT....
Putting on her meanest slayer face, she
pointed accusingly at...nothing.
..I mean every one of those four words...those
FIVE words!"
She shook her head a little, trying to clear
the haze.
"Are you looking for trouble? ARE you? Cause
ifff...you are...then you came to the right place,
bucko! I'll GIVE you trouble. Give you all
the trouble you want...cause I'm...I'm the..."
She frowned, trying to remember who she was.
"Oh! Yeah! I...am the slayer...the goddamn
chosen one. You screw with ME.. and I...will
kick..your..ASS! Thass what I do! I'm an
ass kicker!"
When no one came forward to challenge her,
Buffy flopped back down on the sofa and
smiled "Scared it off."
She picked up the champagne, carefully
lining up the bottle with the rim of her glass.
Unaware that she wasn't tipping the bottle
high enough, she was surprised to see
that her glass was only half full.
"Hmm...guess it all depends on your point
of view," she waxed philosophical, trying
to look down the neck of the bottle and
find what she wanted.
**This thing's empty...it can't be empty.
Is it? All gone...nothing there...finished
up...over and out..oh, this is stupid...it
CAN'T be empty cause I've only had**
"Uh-oh." Her eyes widened as she realized
she had absolutely no idea how many
glasses of champagne she'd swilled.
**Well, let's be logical here. I've had
enough to empty the bottle or it wouldn't
be...empty. But I don't know how many
glasses it takes to fill the bottle up in
the first place**
Trying to work through it in her mind was
making her dizzier than she already was,
so she decided not to worry about it.
"Who cares, anyway? Iss not like I'm
falling down drunk or..or something."
**That's very true...you're lying down
drunk**
"So what if I am?" she asked pugnaciously. "Iss
MY champagne." She pointed to her chest
with her thumb. "I can do whatever I want to
do...with it. I can wash the car...or..or water
plants...I can take a BATH in it if I want to."
Turning sideways on the sofa, Buffy pulled her
feet up and leaned back against the armrest.
"I'm an adult, you know!" she declared. "Over
twenny-one...and I got rights. The Consitution
of the United...America...says I do."
She pulled her nightshirt down over her knees.
"They says that I got certain inalienand...an alien
an bull..rights...I got 'em...we all got 'em.
Like...like I gotta right to an attorney...I gotta
right to make speeches free...and I gotta right to
arm bears...and I gotta right to get shitfaced
with MY birthday present."
**Not that I am...but I can if I want to**
"Oh, well," she sighed deeply. "This is
a dead soldier, soldier." She placed the
bottle on the table and saluted it.
Sliding farther down on her back, she felt
something digging into her kidneys. Send-
one hand down on a search, it came back
with the t.v. remote.
"Nice to see ya," she said. Aiming it in
the direction of where she remembered
the television being, she thumbed the
on button.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TBC....
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