Well, it was Sunnydale, which meant home of the nice days according to all the old bastards who resided in the town, but today was just...extra nice.
Will wasn't even sure why. It was a Monday morning, which although was his day off still carried the same heavy weight, and he was still single and hadn't heard a word from Cordelia since she'd clickity clacked her way out off his apartment the other week.
But he was feeling oddly cheerful. Cheerful enough to be whistling a jaunty tune as he drove through town, anyway.
He blinked and stopped whistling when he spotted a familiar blonde head just up in front of him, struggling along the pavement with a mountain of grocery bags.
Purposely not questioning his reasoning – because deep down he knew that just a week ago he wouldn't have hesitated in picking up the speed and driving past without stopping to so much as offer a helping hand – he slowed down the car to an almost halt next to her and wound down the window.
“Need a ride?” he called out. He refused to think about how before they'd had their little talk on the roof the other day he would have done just about anything to avoid spending any extra time with her. He especially refused to think about why that had suddenly changed.
He was cheerful, that was all. Nothing else to it.
Besides, she was bound to say no anyway. He'd said something to piss her off the other day on the roof, he could tell. So she'd probably just give him a dirty look and refuse. Embarrass him like he'd clearly embarrassed her.
So it was a complete surprise when Buffy stopped to peer into his window with a complete look of...relief on her face. He certainly hadn't expected her to look at him in anything other than complete negativity, that was for sure.
She blew a damp strand of hair away from her forehead and nodded gratefully.
“Thanks for the ride...again,” Buffy babbled as they reached Luke's apartment building, a little smile on her face.
Will pulled to a stop and opened and then re closed his mouth. For reasons completely unknown to his brain and his common sense, he'd felt his heart drop just the tiniest little bit at the thought of saying goodbye to her Buffy so soon – especially since she seemed to have forgotten about whatever it was he'd said to upset her the other day on the roof and was being as nice as pie towards him.
Actually, he suspected that it was less likely that she had forgot, and more simply that she had just let it go. She didn't seem the type to hold grudges – which made her a far better person than he was, that was for sure.
“No problem,” he answered finally. When she reached for the car door handle, he put a hand on her arm to stop her. “Can I help you carry your bags up?” He tried his hardest not to sound as desperate as he felt.
She started in surprise, clearly still unused to him actually being nice towards her for the first time in their entire history. “Uhm...I'm good. Thanks anyway though.”
“Come on,” he replied, his tone teasing. “Li'l thing like you can't carry all those big heavy bags up all those flights of stairs by your lonesome. It's high up, this apartment, right?”
He couldn't quite explain, even to himself, just why exactly he was going out of his way to wind her up, just like a silly kid would do with his first crush. All he did know what that he wanted a couple of extra minutes with her, and that he would do just about anything to accomplish that goal.
She spluttered in outrage at his insinuation, her cheeks turning a sweet shade of pink. “'Li'l thing like me'?” she mimicked in an awful English accent. “I may be small but I'm stronger than I look, I'll have you know! Hell, I'm just as strong as you are! Stronger, even!”
Will lifted up one amused, disbelieving eyebrow, which only served to get her even more huffy. He kinda liked it. “Uh huh.” His tone was dry.
“Right,” she barked determinedly. “That's totally it!”
Before Will could stop her, she had already slammed her way out of the car.
He cursed silently. How could he have let himself piss her off, again? What was he, twelve?
Sighing heavily, he quickly scrambled out after her. “Come on, Buffy. I didn't mean to-” He paused in mid-sentence and began to back away with his hands raised defensively when he spotted her advancing towards him, a menacing look set firmly upon her face as she rolled up her sleeves defiantly. “Hey now,” he blurted nervously. “There's no need to get violent. Didn't mean any harm. Was just messing, is all.”
She stopped by the hood of his car and patted the metal. “Get your ass over here, now.”
Afraid of just what might happen if he didn't comply with her demands, Will hastened over to where she was stood. “Uh...what-”
“Arm wrestle,” she explained bluntly, leaning over and placing her elbow on the hood of his car and wriggling her fingers impatiently. “I'll show you strong, Mr Li'lthinglikeyou.”
Comprehension dawning and irrational fears fading, Will rolled his eyes at her childishness and ran a hand through his hair. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it is. What's wrong, Willy-boy? Scared of a li'l thing like me?”
He sighed again, knowing that if he refused her she was quite likely to hound him for the rest of his life. Stubborn bitch.
He moved a little closer and copied her actions, bending over the hood of his car and taking her dainty little hand in his much larger one. “Fine. We'll have a stupid arm wrestle – not that it'll make you feel much better. But you have to promise to let me help you with your bags when I win.”
“Ha! When you win? Dream on, buddy.”
He tutted impatiently. “Promise?”
Sticking her bottom lip out like a petulant child, she promised, and squeezed his hand tighter in preparation.
“You sure you really wanna-” Will began, but was once again interrupted by an impatient Buffy.
“Three, two, one...go!”
Just as Will had expected, the arm wrestle was over within seconds.
When it was done, and she had released his arm, Will glanced over at her and smirked. She pouted back sulkily and rubbed the inside of her arm.
“You were supposed to let me win.”
He did not think she was adorable, he did not think she was adorable, he did not-
Oh, bloody hell.
“And why's that, angel face?”
“Because I'm the girl and you're the guy and the guy's supposed to let the girl win to make her feel good. Duh.”
“So...by letting you win I would have been making you feel good?”
“Yes.”
“Even though it would have been a lie?”
“Even better.”
Will shook his head in bafflement. “Don't think I was ever taught your crazy girl rules in school. Might have helped a lot in life.”
“You're oh so funny,” she replied dryly. “You may as well carry my grocery bags upstairs for me now. I'd do it and all, but I'm injured, ya know.”
Will decided that it would probably be best for his mental state to refrain from mentioning that helping her carry her shopping was all he'd ever been trying to do in the first place, and if she'd just have let him do it when he suggested it then she would have saved them both a lot of time and aggravation.
Instead, he took the high ground and simply gathered up the bags and requested that she lead the way.
“Nice place you got,” Will commented, as he followed Buffy towards the kitchen. He glanced around at the wall hangings and the incense sticks and the beaded doorways. “Very you.”
“Nice stereotyping,” she replied with a smug grin. “None of this is anything to do with me. Luke decorated it all himself.”
He planted the bags down on the kitchen counter and turned to her in surprise. “You two must have very similar tastes.”
It wasn't jealousy he was feeling. Not at all. Definitely not. And he sure as hell wasn't going to embarrass himself by asking her if she and Luke were sticking it to each other, even though the need for an answer was burning a hole right through his brain.
“You got any ice?” he settled on in the end.
Buffy frowned in confusion at his random question, but pointed towards the freezer and watched in silence as he opened up the door and grabbed a handful of cubes and wrapped them up in a kitchen towel that he'd found laying on the counter.
Come here,” he bossed gently.
For once, she did as she was told, understanding dawning in her eyes when he carefully lifted up her arm to place the ice-pack on the area that she had complained had hurt.
“Oh,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
He looked down into her eyes, smiling tenderly. “My fault it got hurt. Least I can do is make it feel better. That's the guy's job, right?”
Buffy giggled at the way he had twisted her earlier words. “Not your fault you're so strong,” she teased. “Guess you need all that extra strength to be a fireman, huh?”
“Comes in handy from time to time.”
They were silent for a moment, and Will went back to inspecting the arm that he was tending to.
“You know something?” Buffy piped up eventually. “You're really not as much of an uptight ass as I originally thought.”
Will was unable to stop the bubble of laughter that escaped his throat at her brutally honest words. “Well do you wanna know something?” he replied.. “You're just as much of a bloody nut job as I originally thought...but now I think that maybe it's not such a bad thing after all.”
Buffy smiled sweetly and ducked her head.
It was well over an hour later when Will finally climbed back into his car, and he congratulated himself on managing to span his extra couple of minutes into such a long time.
He felt weird, different...light – and he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the fruit tea she had conned him into trying. In fact, he hadn't felt so light in a very long time. Nor could he remember laughing so much. Having pure, light-hearted fun just talking to someone.
Not even with Cordelia. Especially not with Cordelia.
He shook his head and started up the car, determined to head straight towards the nearest bar before he could analyse the already confusing situation even further.