“So...what club are you going to sign up for?”
Buffy and Spike were walking down the hallway towards the lunchroom, and Buffy was learning an important lesson. When you’re a teenager and you’re uber-horny, conversation? Not such a priority.
“Uh...dunno yet.” She was wearing a tank top, and he was staring at her boobs like there was no tomorrow. Buffy shifted uncomfortably, not because of the staring, but because of what it was doing to her. I could’ve worn a jacket, but no, the stupid weatherman said it was going to be warm today...
“Isn’t your mom ready to, you know, hit the roof? She doesn’t seem like the wait-ey type.”
Spike shrugged. “Haven’t found a club I wanna join just yet.” They entered the cafeteria. “Damn, ‘m hungry,” he said, looking around with a smirk. “Gotta get me somethin’ to eat.”
He would make with the innuendos in the middle of the lunch room. “Uh, yeah, I’m hungry too,” she stuttered.
He grinned at her. “Pouting, are we?”
“Nope. No pouting. Not even a tiny bit!” Oh, great. Now she was stuttering, too.
“Are you two about to have orgasms? Because there’s a utility closet on the second floor that I think you’ll find is very useful.”
Spike let out a sigh. “Hello, Anya,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Sorry I interrupted you hormone-fest. I know you’re grouchy because you’re horny,” Anya said cheerfully. “But I think I found a solution to your problem.”
“’f it’s got anything to do with utility closets...”
“No, idiot, it’s about how your mom wants you to join a club,” Anya said impatiently. “I don’t think it actually counts as a club, but your mother is a fairly stupid person, so I doubt she’d notice the difference—“
“Get on with it, yeah?”
“You could join the Halloween dance committee!”
Spike blinked. “Thanks, Ayn, but ‘m not one for school spirit.”
“Or any kind of spirit,” Buffy said sweetly, mostly just to get back at him for the eating comment. He cast her a sardonic look.
“Spike, it’s the easy was out! You’re the easiest person I know!”
“Spike’s easier than me? Damn,.” Faith joined the group, usual grin in place. “Rock on, stud.”
“I think she meant lazy,” Buffy told her.
Faith shrugged. “Whatever. We gonna sit down, or what?”
They all walked towards their normal table, Anya giving Spike a steady list of reasons why joining the Halloween committee was a good idea. As they sat down she finally said, “And anyway, you wouldn’t have to dress up if you don’t want to.”
Okay, Anya was so not being helpful. Spike just being...Spike was hot enough. Spike in a costume, assuming it was something sexy? Mouth-watering. “But he’ll want to wear a costume,” she said perkily. “Won’t you?”
“Uh, no,” Spike said, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “Why the bloody hell would I wanna do that?”
She smiled at him flirtatiously. “’cause if you do, I’ll wear something sexy and you’ll get to ogle me all night.”
“That so?” He looked her up and down, smirk growing.
They were still staring at each other—a bad habit, Buffy had decided—when Xander sat down, a lunch tray loaded with fries and pizza in his hands. “Man,” he said, “That line when on forever. I though I was going to—sweet mother of Zeus, would it kill you guys to stop that?”
Willow and Tara joined the table. “What’s the matter, Xander?” Willow asked.
“Them! They’re doing the googly-eyed thing and it’s so incredibly annoying and embarrassing and you know, I don’t think you’re listening either since you’re making out with Oz!” Xander slumped down and banged his head on the table. “Witness the frustration of the sexless guy,” he muttered.
Anya patted his hand. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said. “I plan on giving you many orgasms as soon as we get home from school.”
“But I don’t get kisses now?” Xander whined.
Anya pointed at the pizza. “Garlic breath,” she reminded him.
Buffy was laughing when she saw a flash of green out of the corner of her eye: it was Lorne, cornered by Cordy near the drink machines. Buffy nudged Spike. “Look,” she said, eyes glinting mischievously, “Our friend is in trouble.”
The table fell silent. After a moment Faith said, “Think we should go help him?”
Silence. Lorne was shaking his head emphatically, and Cordelia looked like she was really to kill him. Her pointy little nail jabbed him in the chest.
Still more silence.
Finally, Xander said, “Nah. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.”
“’course he can,” Spike said. “He’s been doin’ the gay thing for years. He can handle one desperate bint.”
“Uh-huh,” Buffy agreed, eyes fixed on Lorne.
“Maybe we should go help him?” Willow suggested.
“Yeah, let’s do that. ‘m hungry anyway,” Spike said. He stood up; Buffy and Faith did, too. Everyone else remained seated.
“Chickens,” Faith said, grinning.
“We have a healthy sense of self-preservation. Confronting Cordelia would be both difficult and time-consuming,” Anya informed her flatly.
Spike snorted. “Right, then. Let’s go save the sodding day.”
Lorne was still shaking his head when they approached him. For a moment they all held back, even Buffy, simply because Cordelia looked pissed off in a big way. It was Faith who gathered her courage and strode into the battlefield. “Lorne, where the hell have you been? Anya’s dyin’ to hear if you got laid last night.”
Lorne looked confused. “Honey, I didn’t—“
“Don’t bother lyin’, it’s cool. You don’t want Her Highness telling everybody about your faggetry.” Faith linked arms with Lorne. “But I know you had a date, so once we get away from her, you’re gonna describe just how much cock you got.”
Faith led Lorne, still stuttering denials, away from Cordelia—who turned to Buffy with cold eyes.
“Okay, what’s up with that? You said you’d hook him up with me!”
“I never said you could go all intimidating on him,” Buffy defended herself. Cordy wasn’t in the least bit satisfied. “You lying, backstabbing, no-good little—“
“’ey. Shove it, you little bint,” Spike snapped. He took Buffy’s hand. “C’mon, luv. Gotta go here the details of our rainbow’s date.”
Any other time she would have insisted on standing her ground, but after the night they’d had she was too tired to do anything but let him gently tug her back to the table. Plus also, protective Spike was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. “I thought you said you were hungry?” she asked as she sat down.
He shrugged. “Bit peckish, is all. It’ll wear off.”
No wonder he’s so skinny, Buffy thought. He never eats!
Not that she was complaining, or anything...
“Oh, good,” Anya said in a relieved voice upon seeing the blonde duo. “Lorne wouldn’t tell us what happened until you came. I was getting impatient.”
“Wait.” Buffy frowned. “I thought the whole date thing was just Faith’s way of getting Lorne away from Cordy?”
“It was,” Willow told her. “Anya wants to know what Cordy said to him.”
“Oh, okay.” Buffy turned to Lorne. “What did she say before we came and rescued you?”
Lorne fanned himself dramatically, sighing. “Honey, it was a nightmare like you wouldn’t believe. That female is so determined, I thought she’d press a gun to my head if I didn’t go along with her little scheme. I swear, there was nothing I could do but give in.”
“Give in? What the bloody hell d’you mean, give in?”
“I mean, Sweetcheeks, that you rescued me too late. I am Cordelia Chase’s date to the Halloween soiree,” Lorne said with a dramatic sigh. “And by then, my dears, she’ll have given me a makeover that will simply stun you all.”
Willow whispered, “No green hair?”
“None. Not even the tiniest strand.”
“I’m sorry, Lorne.” Tara offered her sympathy quietly.
“That sucks,” was Xander’s contribution. “Welcome to the butt-monkey club—ow!” he yelped when Anya pinched him.
“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered, heaving a sigh. “I need a fag.”
“Well, hot stuff, I don’t usually sleep around, but if you’re offering...” Lorne trailed off with a playful and slightly suggestive grin.
Buffy pouted and hooked her arm in Spike’s. “No stealing my man,” she told Lorne.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetie.”
Buffy laughed, and the lunchroom banter continued.
~*~
She was in a pretty good mood when she got home, considering. Spike had Lorne had bother been whiney that afternoon, Spike because of the “soddin’ committee”, and Lorne because of the “Wicked Witch of the West, and not just her costume, darling”.
She’d even gotten kissage from Spike before he dropped her off at the house. The kissing had been on the road, this time; she and Spike were working hard to disprove the “we can only get it on in the driveway” theory.
She was in such a good mood, in fact, smiling when she walked through the door.
The smile disappeared when she saw her mother standing by the stairs. Joyce looked at her kindly—an expression that was foreign to Buffy.
“Buffy, honey, we need to talk,” she began.
Buffy started jabbering before her mother could make her listen to another lecture. “You know? Not really. Because I’ve got lots of homework, and I’m not really big with the whole talking thing—plus, I was thinking about maybe cleaning my room, so—“
“Buffy.” Now her eyes had more of the familiar hardness. “In the kitchen, now.”
She went quietly, but her mind was spinning. If Joyce decided to give her another argument after that thing with her dad, she was going to go insane. As in, certifiably.
She sat down at the table and looked at her mother expectantly. “What?”
Joyce sat down, too. She compressed her lips—nervously?—before saying, “Buffy, Dawn told me what your father said to you.”
“Yeah, cuz I never would’ve guessed that,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Why the hell haven’t you kicked him out yet?”
“Buffy Anne Summers, you will not use that tone with me!” Joyce scolded. Buffy fought not to role her eyes Whatever, Mom.
“I didn’t kick your father out because it would have been rude, Buffy,” Joyce continued. “I have, however, decided that maybe we should get a divorce.”
Buffy toyed with her hair. “Great. Have oodles of fun with that.”
“Buffy,” Joyce said reprovingly, “You need to stop being so apathetic. I know that since you’re a teenager you want to rebel, but—“
“But what, Mom?” Her temper finally flared up. “You know, maybe if you would pay more attention to me and less attention to those stupid parenting books, you might actually find out something useful!”
“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Joyce cried. “Buffy, I haven’t even told Dawn about this yet!”
“Oh, thanks ever so!” Buffy exclaimed. “The one thing I’ve ever gotten that Dawn hasn’t, and it’s bad news!”
To her surprise, Joyce didn’t yell or try to punish her. Instead she simply said, “You’re right.”
Buffy blinked. Invasion of the body snatchers much? “Huh?”
Joyce sighed. “You’re my daughter, Buffy. I’d like us to at least respect one another.”
“Why should I respect you?” Buffy asked—nastily, but she couldn’t really help it. She was still pissed off in a big way.
“Well, for one thing, I’m your mother,” Joyce pointed out, an annoyed look on her face.
Buffy sighed exasperatedly. God, this trip down Bizarro Road was not fun. “Look,” she said, “I’ll respect you, okay? I’ll respect the crap out of you.” She paused, searching for the right words. She wasn’t exactly good at emotional speech type things. Finally she said, “But you can’t expect me to respect you until you show me...until you show me that you love me, and that you know that how you’ve treated me was bitchy and unfair.” She stopped at that, tensing herself for the outburst she was positive would come. No one got away with calling their mothers bitchy.
But instead of the expected scream-fest, Joyce just nodded slowly. “I respect that,” she said softly.
Buffy cracked a small smile at her mom’s joke. “I’m gonna go upstairs and do my homework.” She left the kitchen.
“Call me if you need anything,” Joyce told her.
Now, that was a first. “Okay.” She grabbed her bookbag and headed up the stairs.
“Oh, and Buffy?”
Buffy stopped right before the stairs would conceal her from the lower half of the house, about halfway up the staircase. “Yeah?”
Joyce smiled, the warm, motherly smile that Buffy hadn’t seen in a long time, if ever. “I love you, sweetheart.”
Tears prickled at her eyes. “I love you too, Mommy,” she whispered, before fleeing up the stairs so things wouldn’t get over-emotional.
And thank you.
~*~
“Yeah, she actually apologized—well, sort of.” Buffy twirled the phone cord around her finger.
“Wow,” Willow said on the other end of the line. “Your mom actually said sorry? I wish mine would.” Willow’s parents had gone through a bout of severe anti-Wicca, resulting in many of Willow’s books and figurines being destroyed.
“It was pretty nice,” Buffy admitted. “Like, the first time we’ve ever been civil. Enlightening.” She smiled, though she knew Willow couldn’t see it. Reconciliation made her happy.
Willow laughed. “Have you reached nirvana, Oh Wise One?” she teased.
Buffy frowned. Nirvana? “The band?”
“No, silly! In Buddhism, Nirvana is a state of higher being, where you understand everything and you’re in harmony with the universe.”
“So, it’s like an extended orgasm, only minus the screaming?” Buffy winced as soon as the comment came out of her mouth. She’d been hanging around Anya—or maybe Spike—way too much. Not that I could ever really hang around Spike too much, no matter how perverted he makes me...
“Hello? Earth to Buffy! Come in, Buffy! Buffy? Are you there?”
Buffy snapped out of her Spike-induced trance. “Huh? Sorry. What?”
The redhead on the other end of the line gave a mock sigh. “People in love are so boring.”
“Oh really, Miss I’m Dating the Guitarist, isn’t he hot????” Buffy did her best Cordylike squeal.
“Oh, hush,” was Willow’s only comeback. Then, “So, did Spike sign up for the committee?”
Buffy nodded, then remembered she was on the phone. “Yup. They had a meeting after school, I think. He dropped me off and went back to Hell High.”
“So, I’m guessing you guys are going as a couple?”
Buffy grinned. “Yeah, we are. He won’t tell me what his costume’s gonna be, though.”
“Oz won’t, either. He just says he’ll be hairy.” Buffy could almost hear Willow’s pout. “I really wanted to know, too.”
“Guess we’re doomed to failure,” Buffy said cheerfully.
“You sound happy,” Willow grumbled.
She forced sexy costumed Spike images out of her head. “Huh? Oh, no, I’m just—I haven’t told him what I’m going to be, either,” she babbled, “So I guess we’re kinda even. What about you?”
“I have no idea.” Willow sounded faintly panicked.
“You should wear something sexy,” Buffy said, giggling.
“Uh, Buffy? You’re talking to Willow, not Faith.”
“I didn’t mean, like, Playboy bunny.” Oooh, bet Spike would love that... “Just, you know, cute. Less—Amish-ish than what you usually wear.”
“Amish-ish?”
“You know what I mean.” But Buffy was laughing, too.
When their giggles subsided, Willow asked, “So, what are you going to be?”
A wicked smile grew on Buffy’s lips. “Well,” she began, “He said his favorite color was red...”
~*~
A/N: The phone convo was originally going to be in a new chapter, but I decided to just include it in this one. Hope you guys enjoyed it—I tried to add more comedy in these last few chapters =D And thanks bunches for all the reviews--you guys are the best *hugs*
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