Spike stubbed out his last cigarette and stood up. He noticed that the only customers left were him and a few drunk students that had yet to motivate themselves to stumble out into the night. Thankfully, he didn't recognize any of them from his classes. He really wasn't in the mood for conversation. He glanced towards the bar and saw his petite blonde nemesis tossing out a bowl of mixed nuts, possibly popcorn or some other bar staple as well. Crazy bint. She could give Drusilla a run for her money. Do I have some sort of sign over my head that says crazies, flock here? Spike heard a thump and noticed that one of the remaining customers had lost her balance and was now sitting on the floor next to her chair. Right then, I think this place is played out. Spike gave one last cursory look around the room and headed towards the exit.
Buffy watched as the blond man left the bar about five minutes after his friend. He has the right idea. Leave the scene of the crime. Buffy hated that an encounter with a complete stranger could change the mood of her evening so drastically. I was doing all right until he came along. Anya had relayed the whole story to Faith, and it was all they talked about for the rest of the night. If she never heard another word about the punk professor, it would be too soon.
“Hey, Faith, do you think you guys can clean up without me? I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get out of here.”
Faith smirked, “still sweating Mr. Hottie, huh?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I just want to get home and take a nice, relaxing bath and forget I ever laid eyes on that jerk.”
Faith stopped wiping off the bar. “You’re taking a cab, right? Xander won’t be able to walk with you for another hour or so.”
Buffy glanced at the clock above the bar. “There’s no way I’m waiting another hour, but I’m sure I can manage walking five blocks by myself.”
Faith gave her a look. “Take a cab, B.”
Buffy shook her head. “Really, it’ll be fine, Faith. Don’t worry.”
Faith sighed, “Buffy.”
“What?”
“Take a cab.”
Buffy let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine! I’ll cab it if that’s what it takes for you to let me leave!”
“That’s what it takes, B!” Faith smiled, “Now go take your bath and dream of that hot professor tonight.” Faith winked, “I know I will.”
“Whatever, Faith. Goodnight!” Buffy turned and headed out the front doors of the bar onto the sidewalk. She noticed there were already a few cabs in the vicinity looking to pick up bar patrons smart enough to know that they shouldn’t be driving. I don’t need to take a cab. It would be such a waste of money for just five blocks. Besides, I’d probably end up sharing with some drunk breathing down my neck. I get enough of that at the pub. Buffy took off down the sidewalk in the direction of her apartment.
Spike had stopped at the little convenience store half a block from his flat and was currently perusing the shelves. Might as well stock up on some snacks while I’m here. I’ll need plenty of fuel for grading tests all weekend.
Can’t believe I ran into that girl again…literally. She really is impossible. She has nice eyes, though. Wonder what you would call that color? Spike shook his head after he realized he’d been staring at the same bag of corn nuts for about five minutes. Bloody bint. Why can’t I get her out of my head?
As he continued looking over the shelves, he noticed there was one package left of his favorite brand of cookies. They’re mine now. He reached out his hand to pick the cookies off the shelf, but instead of his skin meeting the cool plastic wrapper, he found that he laid his hand on something decidedly softer and warmer. He noticed a small, feminine hand under his own on the package of cookies.
“Get your hand off.”
Spike looked towards the source of the voice. Oh, hell.
“Get your hand off,” Buffy repeated.
“And why should I? I saw them first!”
“Really doesn’t matter. I grabbed them first. You snooze, you lose.”
“You snooze…you lose?” Spike tilted his head. “People actually say that?”
“Look, crazy guy, just release my hand, so I can buy these cookies. We can pretend that this conversation never happened.” Buffy tapped her foot impatiently.
“I’m crazy! I should turn you in for stalking! Is this how you get your jollies? Wreaking havoc on respectful citizens.” There is no way I’m giving up these cookies to her. I’ll rot in hell first.
“Respectful?” Buffy snorted. “Riiight, and I’m the queen of England.”
“Well, your majesty, if you’ll just remove your hand from the cookies, we can both be on our way.”
Buffy glared at Spike. He can’t have these cookies. I’ll wrestle him to the ground first. I’ll pluck out every last bleached hair on his head! I’ll kick him in the balls! She was so lost in her thoughts of brutalizing Spike that she didn’t notice the commotion at the front of the store.
“Now listen here—oof!” Buffy found herself lying on her back with Spike sprawled on top of her. “Jesus, fuckhead! Is this how you get your jollies?!”
“Shut it, you crazy bint,” Spike hissed. “Did you hear what that man said?”
“What man? Aaah, get off!” Spike allowed himself to be pushed to the side. Buffy flipped over on her stomach and peered around the aisle towards the front of the store. She saw a very disgruntled man…a very disgruntled man wearing a mask…a very disgruntled man wearing a mask and pointing a gun at the cashier. Oh…shit.