[Reviews - 199]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2170 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
So here is chapter fourteen, i hope you enjoy! Thanks for the reviews and for reading :)
It was ten o'clock when Dylan finally broke up the fighting.

A slightly violent scuffle occurred after Spike had endured more teasing than any being could bear (much less him) when Blake met the feline of the house (or "Princess," as he had named her).

The "adults" were separated by Stevo afterwards, to prevent another physical altercation.

The following hours were filled with an abundance of arguing, a detailed recount of Flora's attack, researching, and the dead asleep snoring from Ace and Rex in the living room.

Everyone needed a break by nine PM.

But they'd pushed it another hour. Now it was ten, and all of them were at the boiling point.

"Blake, you and me. We're getting food and bringing it back," Dylan declared, shutting his laptop and rubbing three fingers against one temple, his eyes closed in fatigue. "Maybe we can all clear our heads a bit by taking a break from this."

Stevo nodded agreeably, sending a glare in Blake's direction when he rolled his eyes. "He's right. And maybe one of use will get an idea of what Dru's vision meant if we give our minds a break."

"We have been looking up crap about this elusive vampire power gem for the last five hours," Blake replied, his tone steeped in exasperation. "There is nothing on the internet except what we already know- Stories and supposed facts from only three books in Dylan's ENTIRE library, and even those didn't help us. The info is obsolete."

"Hey," Dylan shouted, indignation clear in his voice. "That 'info' has all been magically loaded into that computer from hundreds of ancient texts and stolen tomes. Some of them aren't even available at the Watcher's Council Headquarters anymore! Everything you read on there is not 'obsolete,' as a matter of fact-"

"I only meant that the stuff we're reading isn't helping us," Blake interjected. "It's all just legends."

"So's your gene pool," Spike said. He glowered when Blake sent a silent "fuck you" look his way. "Yet, here you stand. So stop being so bloody difficult and just go out an get the food. We'll need it when sleeping beauties one and two wake up."

Blake rolled his eyes again but left obediently, following Dylan to get their coats.

"What's still open here," the latter questioned.

"The diner in town, place called Leonard's. Doors won't shut til midnight."

"Kinda late for a tiny town like this," Stevo pointed out.

Spike shrugged. "Guess people like to stop in late from time to time. Like you two are 'bout to right now. Just take the main pathway, it isn't hard to find the square."

"Square?" Blake asked.

It was Dylan's turn to roll his eyes. "Town square, idiot." He opened the front door and left, leaving Blake behind a little bemused.

"Did he just call me an idiot?"

Stevo smiled a little, his tired eyes glinting. "Now do you agree that we've all been working too hard? Dylan's calling people names, and not because he just found out his friend has a pet kitty cat."

Spike growled quietly and left the room. "One-track minded berks."

Blake cracked a smile before leaving, shutting the door while Stevo stood there and chuckled.
"C'mon man, it's not like they didn't like her!"

"Bugger off!"

Spike went back to the kitchen, the place which had been research central for the past few hours. Dylan's computer sat atop a small table near the wall, the island in the middle of the room was littered with old books and pieces of paper with scribbles of ideas and theories. It wasn't Flora who posed the greatest threat- though her use of strong magicks and obvious power was alarming -but the unknown which had everyone most on edge. Flora could just be a part of it somehow.

Going off of what they had and trying to figure out what it all meant was difficult, to say the least. Dru hadn't called with any more information on visions or intuitions, so all the men knew was to research the Gem of Amara and try and find out the background story on Flora. Maybe find the witch she'd gotten the lead-weight net from in New Orleans. There were who knew how many voodoo shops and at least fifty practicing witches who sold to customers in that entire city, and those were just the ones listed online. Black markets, unlisted witches- and fakes for that matter -were things that fogged up the search immeasurably.

Ace was taking over phone duty for calling the lovely practicing people of New Orleans when he finally woke up, whether he bloody liked it or not. Spike's ribs may be healing, but it didn't mean he wouldn't use them as an excuse to get out of this cringe-worthy project. Dealing with a bunch of cheery store owners and witches with annoyingly thick Cajun accents was more irritating than taking jibes about his cat.

Spike didn't even know if he was suitably describing Flora to them, though it did help when he explained she was a vampire- WHEN the people weren't fakes and actually knew and believed in vampires. Still, no leads.

He contemplated searching for the bloke's place where Flora said her brother had been staying. Maybe he'd left something behind.

Or maybe the rib-crushing bint herself was even sleeping there until she could get her revenge, but something told Spike it was a dead end. She was too smart to go someplace she might be vulnerable, and it was doubtful she'd leave anything of her brother's behind that might be valuable or could reveal any secrets she might want kept hidden.

Another thing Spike and the guys tried was messing with that bloody net. Stevo had already gone back and fetched it, to see if he could do a tracer spell and maybe get a location on the witch who'd sold it, or possibly even Flora.

Unfortunately, the thing had dried up and shriveled to a fried crisp the second the spell was tried. Evidently, it was protected against anything that could be used to track its maker's or owner's whereabouts. That's what Stevo had said after he'd tried his spell. The gypsy was thoroughly impressed, and everyone else disgruntled.

The only thing they could really go off of or work on was finding out more about the Gem, though that was obviously easier said than done. Stevo had started looking through spells in a diary he kept, a thick old book passed down to him that was filled with curses and herbs and spells, and just about everything else magick related that anyone had ever written down in his family. Stevo was looking for something he could use, or possibly re-create, to try and find the Gem of Amara- if it even existed. However, the diary wasn't color coded or indexed, and Stevo wasn't even halfway done reading through it.

It was one of the very few things the gypsy had brought with him. His bag- packed with clothes, the diary, and not much more -had been tossed aside by the house when he'd arrived and heard Spike's shouts. His bag was retrieved only after meeting "Princess" later on.

Spike grumbled. He hated fucking Blake sometimes.

But oh, the cat didn't. Nope. She loved the attention she was getting from everyone, at her owners' expense of course. Even Dylan liked mocking Spike, though the nit hadn't dropped the little furball for fifteen minutes after picking her up.

Dylan loved animals, but never got a pet, mostly because he was always so busy travelling and learning. Collecting books and working on computers from time to time for extra cash, while still living off of an almost century old inheritance from an uncle which he'd invested with so well, it had never run out.

And in all of Dylan's books, only one of them vaguely pointed out where the elusive Gem of Amara might be located. Coincidentally, it said somewhere in the south-eastern United States.

Frustrating was a bleeding understatement.

But on top of everything,- the stress, his mates, the work, the phone calls -the worst part of all this was the fact that he couldn't go to the library.

He missed his books and he missed the quiet of the third floor, but most of all, Spike missed his girl.

Buffy had been flashing through his mind since he'd last seen her. The day after Flora showed up, Spike awoke to a wounded chest and an aching ribcage, and Buffy was the first thought to enter his mind. How was she, would she be going to the library today, would she expect to see him, was she looking forward to it?

It had taken him quite a while to shake the thoughts of her long enough to concentrate well on anything else. Then Stevo and him were preparing for the others to arrive. Stevo was calling Dru back in England, and Spike was stocking up on food (which a third of, was already devoured now), and the time to think about Buffy had been when he was alone or trying to ignore the gypsy's teasing comments about the bloody kitten. Or in random flashes, where for a brief moment before he shook it off, she occupied his mind and Spike's attention was lost completely.

Then the others had arrived, and Spike was still missing her like crazy. He kept thinking about her in that dress, the way she'd looked and walked, her eyes and that beautiful smile. The blush he loved on her. Her kisses... Christ, it felt like his nerves melted when he thought about her. Her lips were warm, rich, soft, pushing him to the limit. Her small hands strong yet delicate.

He pressed his teeth together subconsciously, and when Stevo walked in the room, the vamp was very grateful that the man wasn't an empath.

"Spike," Stevo strode through the kitchen, a tiny fluff of fur and green eyes in one hand. "Wanna feed your feline? She's been following me around upstairs meowing and looking at me like I'm her mama cat."

Spike smiled in spite of himself and took the kitten from the gypsy's hand, raising an eyebrow when he noticed Stevo keeping his hand poised beneath her until Spike had her pressed securely against his chest.

*Looks like I'm not the only one who's wrapped around a kitten's tail.*

As he went to the counter he set the animal down on the smooth surface and started mixing a tiny bowl of kitten formula. "Any luck with the book," he asked the man behind him.

"Not yet. Though I did find a spell or two that you could use to find someone without need of a personal item."

Spike glanced at him over his shoulder. "So can we use one of em to find this Flora bint?"

"They can't be used on vampires. Only ghosts and humans."

Spike groaned and mumbled to himself. "If only I could turn the bitch into a ghost, that'd be perfect."

"I might be able to change some things around and make one of them work for a vampire, but I'm not sure. I don't know where to start and it would take me a while."

Spike sighed. "You think it's worth the-"

"Well, I'll be damned."

Rex entered the room with the newly risen look of a man who'd just had one damn good sleep. He stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of worn in jeans.

"Yeah, you probably will, friend." Stevo walked up to the man who stood at only an inch shorter than himself, and cuffed him on the shoulder in a friendly hello. "Mornin."

Rex only glanced at him before looking back at Spike, and the countertop. "You got a pet didn't you."

The vamp internally sighed. *Here we go again,* he thought. "Yeh, I did. An you can bypass the shite you're ready ta give me 'cause I already got it from the other three morons." He finished the milk and then pushed it over to his eager kitty cat, who immediately started lapping up the formula.

Stevo was chuckling again, and Rex's face held one of the largest grins Spike had ever seen on the temperamental man. "William the Bloody... has a kitten," he said with a voice full of giddy declaration, the undertone of tease thick enough to taste. "This is just too good."

Rolling his blue eyes heavenward, Spike ignored the idiot. Looking back down at the kitten who was licking her chops, he felt both like smiling and slapping himself. But when Rex asked if she had a name, arms crossed over a chest trembling with laughter, Spike only sighed and answered, "No."

"That's not true," Stevo proclaimed. "Blake calls her Princess."

The vampire groaned, "An that's not her name."

"Well then what is her name, 'Dad?'"

Spike sent the thunderbird a cutting glare. Before a nasty comment could be made, the topic of conversation hopped off the counter and walked her furry little self over to Rex's feet, and started playing with his bare toes.

"Ah! Hey-" The tall brunette jumped back as if scalded. He gave the feline a frown and looked over at a smiling Spike. "Does she always do that?"

"What, you afraid of her?"

Rex glared and just gave him a look that said he was a halfwit, before flinching again at the feel of a sandpaper tongue against his big toe. He took a step to the side.

"I think she likes you," Stevo announced.

"Yeah," Spike added. "Must like the taste of bird."

Rex huffed and scooped the furry animal up in one hand, his fingers wrapping all the way around her little body. He stared at the feline and said, "Yeah? Well I happen to be hungry, and kittens might not be bad snacks."

The kitty just purred. Spike, knowing that Rex would never eat a fucking CAT no matter how many other demons would agree with his previous statement, stood his ground and smirked when the kitten licked the over-towering man on the nose.

Stevo laughed. "She seems to think you might make a good snack, too."

Grumbling, Rex dropped her on her feet before striding to the refrigerator. "Ace is still out but he'll want coffee when he wakes up," he stated as a conversation changer, "and if he doesn't get it then we'll all be dealing with a bear." He opened the freezer door and examined the contents. "Got any steak, Spike?"

"Steak? Goin all out for breakfast, are you?"

"It's ten in the evening."

"Yeah, lucky you and Ace sleep like the dead. The lot of us 'ave been screamin at each other like banshees all bloody day."

"And it will just get better with you up and about," Stevo chimed in with a sardonic smile.

"Where are the other two?" Rex asked, ignoring that comment and opening up the fridge door next. "Dylan should be on the computer and Blake should be making sarcastic comments that grate on my nerves."

Stevo walked up to the refrigerator and shut the open door. "They went to get some food from a place in town, for everyone," he said. "I don't think a steak will be needed, save it for later when we don't have time to head out. God knows we'll all be up 'til the sun rises."

The two men standing next to each other looked almost like they could be related. They both had darker complexions, though Stevo's was bronze toned while Rex's was more russet. Their builds were equally powerful, tall, and muscled throughout; and their faces showed resemblances, from the straight and wide noses to the shape of the eyes. However, where the gypsy had honey-brown colors, Rex's eyes were more yellow, almost golden. People often asked him if he wore contacts. And while Stevo had shaggy black hair that framed his face, Rex had short chestnut brown that let his strong jaw stand out.

Rex may have Native American blood in his veins, but a lot of him was English and mutt, too, like Stevo.

The thunderbird sighed. "When'd they leave? I just woke up from a sixteen hour rest, that's a long time without eating. Especially for me."

"We know you're a carnivore with needs, friend. Just be patient. In the meantime I'll make coffee. It sounds good right about now." Stevo went to the stove, always the helpful mediator.

Spike watched Rex sigh again and sit down on one of the stools surrounding the island. The kitchen became quiet except for the sounds of Martinov filling the percolator with water. The sink running, then shutting off. A cabinet opening and closing. The stillness surrounded only Spike, his mind wandered yet again to Buffy as Rex stared at the feline playing with her tail on the floor.

With a thunderbird sitting at his kitchen island, and a gypsy making coffee while they waited for another immortal to wake up and an empath and a half-demon to come back with food, Spike felt he really didn't have a right to miss her. A human. His Buffy... Someone who couldn't fit into this world, his life... someone who most likely wouldn't want to.

He wouldn't blame her, but he couldn't let her go.

But maybe, now... if he started distancing himself now- No. He couldn't. He couldn't leave her. The girl needed someone, and if she needed him he'd stay and be there. Spike just didn't know what was going to happen between them. Sooner or later he might have to tell her what he was, and then she would leave.

*But what if she doesn't,* Spike thought.

It was unlikely. Ridiculous. Any sane person would run for their lives.

*You wouldn't. If the situation were reversed.*

It was true. He wouldn't. He already loathed the thought of leaving her in THIS situation, if he were in hers he wouldn't care if she wasn't human. He'd only care about HER. Obviously she cared about him.

Spike knew she wasn't using him as an outlet for her grief, the girl was barely able to talk about her past let alone use someone to forget about it or drop it on them like a tearstained anvil. Buffy talked to him because she liked to, she confided in him because she could and he could handle it, she kissed him because she had feelings for him. She looked at him with a happy sparkle in her eye. She teased him because it was fun. Buffy liked him, she would get attached; Spike already knew he was.

He just didn't know if he was lying to himself, or what if he was just plain wrong? If she truly wouldn't go running for her life should she find out he was a vampire, then Spike was left to wrestle with the question of: Did he have a right to do that to her?

He would explain everything from the start, if they got serious and the time came where he told her what he was then he'd lay it all out on the table for her. He'd let her choose. But was it fair to allow her to get any closer to him without telling her first that he was a demon? A monster? A heartless bastard who had killed and tortured and maimed for years in the past?

Spike would not make the decision for her, that was not his right, and he wanted her so much already that if he got in any deeper he knew he wouldn't be able to push her away. Not for very long, at least.

Yet if he continued this thing with Buffy without telling her the facts about himself, and she chose to disappear from his life after he DID tell her, Buffy would be broken up over leaving. No matter what people say, they always manage to get attached to others in their lives. It's inevitable. And feelings are already there for the two of them, they would only get stronger over time. Giving her the whole truth, even a month from now, could cause her pain just if she chose to separate herself from Spike because of what he was. But if he told her sooner...

She still might go. It wouldn't hurt as bad, though. For either of them.

But she needed him. He wouldn't abandon her. And he couldn't lose her.

Spike sighed.

Rock. Hard place. Perfect bloody setup.

"Why is there a stray poker chip running around your kitchen?"

Ace's grouse cut through his tumult of unwelcome thoughts, and Spike noticed the immortal standing in the doorway, looking very much the tired un-caffeinated male who was accustomed to no less than six cups of coffee a day (at least two of which were consumed in the morning). "Not a chip, mate," Spike said with another sigh, this one drenched with weariness.

Ace looked at the vamp, and then back at the kitten on the ground. He stared unblinkingly for two seconds before his brain- which was only awake enough to control slow body movements and work the voice box -decided it needed its regular juice before attempting to work out the reason why there was a kitten in his soulless vampire friend's kitchen.

He looked at Stevo and grumbled, "Coffee."

The gypsy nodded. "Already on. Should be done in a couple minutes."

Ace nodded and walked over to a stool, plopping down gratefully across from Rex who chuckled. "Virtual zombie."

"Do I look dead to you, Tweety?"

The thunderbird glared, his yellow eyes flashing dark for a split second. "You wanna be?" He hated being called nicknames.

Stevo rolled his eyes and turned off the stove. "Shut up, the both of you."

"Yeh," Spike added. "You know Rex is sensitive 'bout that bird nature a his."

The man in question scowled. "Maybe I will eat your cat."

"Try it and I'll clip your wings."

"Enough!" Stevo ordered. "I am not going to tear you two apart like I had to do with Blake and you earlier, Spike. I'll let you bite into Rex's throat and I'll let him snap your neck a couple of times before I even think to intervene." He slammed a mug down on the countertop, his face exasperated and edgy. "I am hungry and irritated. You can fight once I've had some coffee and Dylan and Blake get back."

Ace didn't even flinch, just blinked his tired eyes and then grinned contentedly when Stevo placed a cup of steaming black liquid in front of him.

Spike and Rex had to hold in amused snorts. Instead of arguing anymore though, the latter just asked, "Can I get some coffee?"

Ace growled a little at that. "I call that pot. I'm not going to run out because I'm sharing with you."

Rex jeered and flipped a hand in exasperation. "Stev is having a cup!"

"He made it. He gets one."

"Thank God m'not a big coffee drinker." Spike smirked at Rex as he passed to get a bloodbag from the fridge.

Ace continued drinking, becoming more and more alert with each sip of the hot brew. He walked away from his stool and downed the last bit of coffee, going to get another cupful.

Ace stood at Spike's height, but that was where their resemblances ended. He had brunette hair with natural auburn streaks that were only noticeable in direct light, his eyes were so dark they were almost black, the pupils barely distinguishable. He carried a friendly air about him that contrasted sharply with most of the other men's personalities, especially Spike's. His build was sinewy, he had a long torso and powerful arms strengthened from lugging around crates, as he loved to sail and got paid to do it while working on cargo ships.

And he loved his coffee. The bloke had drunk two more cups before finally asking, "So what's with the cat?"

Stevo again, couldn't help himself from laughing, and Rex was happy to explain. "Oh, she's Spike's pet."

Ace's eyes widened. "Pet?" He looked at the kitten rolling around on the ground. "Like a companion for lonely old widows? That sort of pet?"

"Hey!"

Ace raised an eyebrow at Spike's outburst. "Ya that lonely, pal?"

"Piss off, flu bug," he growled.

"Hey! You and I both know I never use that power."

It was true, though Ace did have the power (thanks to his demon father) to make people, animals, and a lot of fellow supernatural creatures ill with a simple touch or chant should he wish it, he never did. He'd stopped using the ability centuries ago and got rather defensive whenever it was brought up.

It didn't mean Spike couldn't use it as a jibe, of course. "Just don't get the tabby sick and I won't wring your neck."

Ace actually stopped and smiled then. He looked at the floor and scooped the animal up in his large hands. "Good luck livin with this guy, whiskers."

"Oh no," said Rex. "Her name's Princess."

"Okay, I'm sorry, I can't leave this one alone. Spike. Did you really name her-"

"No, you wanker! I didn't name her at all, Blake soddin called her that."

"Oh," he chuckled, sitting down again and setting the kitten on the island. "Okay, then I know he's just screwing around, but if you had actually named her that I'd start asking when was the last time you'd gotten laid."

Spike clenched his jaw and changed to game face. He ripped into the cold bloodbag in his hand and drank deeply, craving a good kill but taking the bloody snack as a replacement. It wasn't releasing any tension but took the edge off a bit. When he was done he wiped his mouth clean with his forearm, and his ears tuned in again to the conversation around him.

"So where did the other two go?" Ace questioned.

"Diner," Stevo replied. "Picking up food. They should be back shortly."

><

Buffy was tired, her feet hurt, her head ached from listening to people chatter at her and ask her questions. It was getting harder and harder to focus on smiling and actually listening to some of the things they all said. The orders she could do, and had actually gotten so fast at placing them and multitasking, that Harriet had allowed her to continue without keeping an eye out. Three tables were all Buffy's. She still shared the responsibility of three others with Harriet, who also had four more of her own to serve, but Elizabeth was getting good quick.

It still didn't mean this job was easy. Buffy had been asked about herself, and then her grandmother, too many times to count. She always smiled; and thank God teenagers were still out and about at this time because they didn't question her at all, just looked her up and down in an assessing way and ordered their meals.

It was the older couples who gave her the most trouble. Them and the families, or girlfriends who were out to dinner while their husbands were working. Buffy had never heard so many warm endearments in her life.

Many people asked her last name, and then would exclaim that she looked exactly like her grandmother- Fortunately no one here knew her mom, or at least they didn't remember her all that well because no one brought her up. Which was good, Buffy didn't think she could handle that tonight.

However, everyone must know about what had happened, because she'd heard so many concerned and almost pitiful "How have you been doin, darlin's" that Buffy felt like her head might explode. But of course, she always replied politely, and then very quickly asked if they were ready to order yet. When they said no, she claimed she had to go to another table.

One time that hadn't worked. The set of female customers had kept her trapped with conversation and actually asked her to take her hair down for them, and when she finally did, they'd exclaimed "what a beauty she was!" Buffy accepted the compliment wholesomely, though a part of her did absently wonder if she'd gone back half a century or two in time.

*"What a beauty?" I mean really?*

It was going on ten thirty now and she was ready to get home. She'd just gotten off a much needed break, a cup of hot cocoa and some toast in her belly. Buffy felt a little better but seriously wanted to get away. Her thoughts had been preoccupied with not messing anything up, and images of Spike that brought bitter sweetness. She needed to get home.

But this was her job now, and she wasn't going to do it half-assed. She wasn't going to ask to skip out early on the first day or anger anyone. She'd just have to plow through. Besides, money needed to be earned and then saved. This job would work.

Unfortunately, her butterfly filled stomach hadn't calmed enough to allow for anything but dry toast to enter it. That and of course something chocolaty, which had added up to that weird combination of toast and hot cocoa. Harriet hadn't said anything about it, though.

Just then the tall smiling waitress approached Buffy. The woman had been working for hours, but that smile had yet to wane. "Finished up, sugar?"

"Yep," Buffy stretched her arms a little above her head, bracing herself to get started again. "I'm ready."

"Okay, well I'm gonna get you behind the counter, okay? Your tables will go to Susie now."

Buffy felt a sudden pang of disappointment and a little shame. Had she screwed something up? Everyone she'd served had seemed happy with her. "D-Did I do something wrong?" She couldn't help asking, or the little half-lip raise that happened when she did. It was her self-conscious face.

Harriet beamed disarmingly and shook her head. "No dear, no. I just want you to learn how to man the counter should ya need to. It's a lot easier than waitin tables, and you need to learn how to use the cash register."

"Oh." Buffy blew out a relieved breath, and idly wondered why she'd cared about how she came off while waitressing as long as she wasn't fired.

Harriet's statement normally wouldn't have gotten the reaction from her that it had, and Buffy realized that she was happy she'd done well with waiting her tables. She wouldn't normally care about something like that. At all.

Weird.

Buffy followed the older waitress to the cash register. The counter was a long, yellow surface that matched their work blouses. Except it was shiny clean. There were some truckers drinking coffee and eating huge plates filled with food sitting on four stools, a man in overalls having tea and a BLT, and one young girl enjoying a banana split at the end. The cash register was an old looking thing made out of shiny brownish metal, not electronic. Harriet showed Elizabeth how to use it, and once Buffy got it down, the woman explained that sometimes the drawer stuck so you had to elbow it to get it back open.

"Right," she grunted, "here," and banged her elbow against the side of the machine, the drawer popping open with a ding a second after. "See? Just bang it there nice and hard and you'll do fine. But don't use the palm of your hand, for some reason it only works with an elbow."

Buffy looked warily at the large contraption and nodded. "Okay. Whatever you say."

Harriet smiled yet again. "If ya need me, just holler." She placed a hand on Buffy's shoulder. "And I MEAN holler. No one's gonna think nothin of it if ya yell in this place, but they will get annoyed if there's no one behind the counter to take their orders." She winked, and left Buffy to her station.

The girl blew out a breath and looked at the coffee pots behind her. She knew how to work them, but fortunately there were already two fresh pots full and hot for refills. She grabbed the black rimmed coffeepot, wrinkling her nose at the red one that said "DECAF" on its label, and turned around to face one of the men at the counter.

"Would you like some more coffee? Okay." She poured. She poured another to the man sitting at the far end of the counter. She took away the empty bowl from the little girl with ice cream on her face and accepted the pile of coins she offered as payment with a smile. Buffy worked well behind the counter, just as she had with the tables, and when she opened up the cash register for the third time and the drawer stuck, she used her elbow to get it open again.

Not much time passed, and she didn't notice what with her buzzing around like a bee. Two men, in addition to the little girl, had left, but three more customers sat and took their places. She was practically on automatic, just refilling a mug for a nice old gentleman when two bickering voices poked through her tired concentration.

"I shouldn't have followed you. You can't tell your ass from a hole in the ground, much less a main road from a bike trail."

"Calm down, we got here didn't we?"

"Not with your help. Remind me next time to take Rex, he at least knows direction."

"Well of course he does, the guy has nothing better to do than worry about flying into windows."

Buffy frowned, and figured that last part hadn't meant to be overheard since it was hushed. She shook her head and finished filling her customer's mug, then went to the old man holding up a hand at the other end of the counter.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Decaf, please."

"Sure." Buffy went to switch out pots and when she did, a bright and delighted voice suddenly caught her attention.

"Holy hell, where did you come from, gorgeous?"

Buffy turned with the red rimmed coffeepot in hand, and she met the blue-green glittery eyes of a tall brunette. The man was very attractive, and had a smile that was straight and charming. His demeanor said womanizer as plainly as if it was written all over him in sharpie, while inky black hair added an element of mystery to him. He was staring at her like she was a yummy little dessert ready to be devoured.

The guy made her want to get his order placed as quickly as possible.

"I'll be with you in just a minute," Buffy said. She went to pour her waiting customer his decaf and didn't notice when the black-haired stranger followed her down the length of the counter.

He watched her until she finished serving, then said, "A pretty face pouring coffee, now that's my kinda girl."

An internal sigh. "It's decaf," she said regrettably, then walked away again.

The man only followed. "Ah, not real coffee, then." He shrugged, "I'll settle."

When he reached the cash register where Buffy stood expectantly waiting for an order to be placed, a dark blonde with a warm countenance and eyes to match looked at her and smiled apologetically. He was everything his friend wasn't, not so forward and much friendlier looking. His face was kind and his eyes brown, reminding Buffy of a puppy's. He took off his thin glasses and stuck them in his coat pocket before scowling at his companion.

"Not now, Blake," he said in an exasperated tone.

"Now seems like the perfect time," he replied, never taking his eyes off of Buffy. Eyes she wished were ice blue.

Gulping and rearranging her wishful thoughts, Buffy stood her ground. She so didn't want to deal with this right now. "Can I take your order?"

"Yes, you can," Blake replied, "but first you have to tell me when you get off work."

Buffy scoffed, and fought back that headache she already felt coming on. She had just felt it waning due to her coffee runs back and forth, the smell of the black liquid always relieving stress for her very well.

There wasn't enough coffee in the diner to make this one go away. "Sorry. Can't. And I have other customers, so place your order guys," she spoke with finality.

"Blake, just hand her the list."

"I will, Dylan." The brunette smiled at Buffy again and looked at her nametag. "Elizabeth? Pretty name." He retrieved a slip of paper from his coat, the list he and Dylan had made for their rather plentiful order on the way here. He played with the paper in his hand for a moment. "It's a pretty long list," he said. "My friends need nourishment, and well, they're big guys."

Buffy took the offered slip and said, not ungratefully, "At least you saved me the trouble of writing it down." She heaved a quiet sigh. "To-go, I assume?"

He nodded and then winked at her. She raised an eyebrow, suddenly needing to start serving other people coffee again or something. Just to get away. It wasn't that he was giving off bad vibes or anything, she just wasn't interested in the least. Not to mention the fact that chatting with a customer? So not something she enjoyed.

Buffy quickly walked to the kitchen with the paper in hand and gave it to Leonard, the boss who'd been friendly to her over the last few hours, especially after seeing her work efficiently. "Um, these guys came in with a big to-go order," she said, "I figured I should give it to you so you didn't start making ten T-bones and wondering if the place suddenly had tigers for customers or something."

Leonard smiled at Buffy, slightly crooked but bright white teeth gleaming in the kitchen lights. "Thanks, honey. I'll get this order made up, you just go on and tell those fellas to be patient."

She nodded, smiling a little bit as she walked away. Leonard reminded her of her grandpa, and he was very nice. He made her laugh and feel somewhat relaxed instead of sending her mind on unpleasant wandering.

When she got back to the counter, the two men hadn't left. Blake actually reminded her of a tiger, his predatory dexterity showing in every inch of his stance. While his friend, apparently Dylan, was looking tired, and yet also a little amused.

When she passed to bring a customer his change, Blake smiled at her again. His grin was dripping allure. "Do you know how long the wait'll be, dollface?"

*Oh, for the love of-*

Buffy was sweaty, her feet hurt, she'd been up for hours, her ponytail was frizzy- Yeah. She was a real 'doll' right now. "About twenty to thirty minutes," she told him quickly, a very little edge to her voice that she couldn't help.

Blake blinked at her, and she heard Dylan laughing just before she walked away.

Buffy studiously avoided them for the rest of the wait, and fortunately, Mr. Flirt seemed to get the message that she wasn't in the mood to deal with him, and so he didn't say anything else. Buffy didn't even feel his eyes on her very much. Once in a while she'd glance over if she thought he was staring, but never caught him, so she just kept working.

When she realized disappointingly that she should probably ask the men if they wanted anything while they waited, she was saved as their order was finally called. Buffy carried two large brown paper sacks over and rang them up. Offering a tight lipped smile and a goodbye when they left, Dylan sent a pleasant grin her way while Blake gave a smirk and another wink.

She sighed when they were finally out the door, and went back to her other customers. It was almost eleven and the diner was noticeably calming down. People were leaving and two waitresses got off work, along with a busboy. The night was, thank God, coming to a close.

><

"I really don't think I've ever seen you get the brush-off from a girl before, Blake."

The other four males sitting in the living room all heard the voices of their friends as soon as Blake and Dylan entered the house. Their ears perked with interest as a conversation unfolded in front of them, one man amused and the other exasperated by the joy.

"And as I just told you, Dylan," Blake replied as patiently as possible. "It's happened. Not often," he raised a finger to make his point. "Seldom. Very seldom. So seldom in fact that you've never witnessed it."

The blonde man laughed. "Ya know, she wasn't just annoyed by you, but she honestly didn't even have the time for you. She was practically indifferent."

"She was busy."

Dylan only chuckled, and then when he saw everyone piled into the living room on the mattress and the couch, he smiled even wider. "Hey, look who's up! We can tell them all the story now!"

Blake rolled his eyes and dropped a large paper bag in the center of the guys, and then took the one Dylan was holding and deposited that too. Stevo and Rex eagerly grabbed for the food, while Ace sat Indian style looking at Dylan expectantly. Spike was sprawled on the couch, he took a white Styrofoam container of buffalo wings from Stevo and waited for Dylan to continue.

"You're practically bouncing, man, " Ace said. "C'mon, spill."

Dylan smirked. "Blake met a pretty waitress at the diner."
Just then, the empath groaned and said, "Give me my food," as he removed his jacket and plopped down on the mattress.

Spike bit into a spicy wing. "Yeah? He shag her in the bathroom or outside somewhere?"

"Neither," Dylan proclaimed. "She brushed him off."

Rex blinked.
Ace stopped reaching for his food. "What?"
Stevo's eyebrows rose.

Spike just snickered, his eyes twinkling. "Oh really?" He took another bite out of a spicy wing. "Please, tell us more."

Dylan started but Blake cut him off, his pride shot to its halfway point already. "Oh I'll do it, you'll just manage to make it seem worse than it was."

Dylan held up his hands in acceptance and sat down, reaching for his meal and a can of soda.

"So we walk into the diner, go up to the counter, right?" Blake grabbed his takeout container and accepted one of the steak knives Rex had just retrieved from the kitchen. "Thanks- So anyway, we walk in and Dylan's arguing with me 'cause we took a wrong turn-"

"Told you they got lost," Ace interjected.

Blake ignored him and continued. "When Dylan finally shuts his mouth for a minute, I notice the girl working behind the counter. Not gonna lie, I haven't seen a chick who was that beautiful and not on a magazine cover in a while."

Stevo regarded his friend with a little surprise. "You sound genuine on that."

He nodded and spoke around a mouthful of food, "I am." Blake swallowed. "She's gorgeous. Blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, kinda short but ridiculously cute in her own way, this button nose..."

Spike sat up, licking sauce from his fingers. He frowned at the description of this waitress, something sounding just a little bit too familiar to him and a weird feeling in his gut.

"She had green eyes, a great smile- That was the first thing I noticed about her actually."

"She didn't smile at you, of course," Dylan added while taking a bite of food.

"No, asshole," Blake said. "I saw her smile at another customer before she noticed us."

"What was her name?" Spike asked.

Blake turned and his gaze snapped when it landed on the vampire. He studied him and said, "You're feelin kind of off there, buddy. What's up? You think ya might know this girl?"

"What was her name, Blake?"

The empath shrugged and took another bite of steak, seemingly unbothered by Spike's sudden dangerous tone of voice. "The nametag said Elizabeth. Pretty name for a pretty girl, and this time I really mean that line."

Dylan glanced at Spike. "She wasn't the usual type, ya know? She had somethin special about her."

"You mean like supernatural?" Rex asked.

"No," Dylan shook his head. "Completely human, but she just seemed... I don't know, different. And she knocked Blake right off his lady killer high horse." Dylan smiled and shook his head in memory. "When he called her 'dollface' I thought she was gonna hit him."

Spike stood up and went immediately for his coat.

"Where are you going?" Stevo asked.

"Out. I'll be back." He slipped on his duster, bending to put on his Docs next.

"Don't you think with Flora out there it's kind of dangerous now, man?" Ace questioned. Stevo and Spike had filled him and Rex in on everything they knew before Blake and Dylan arrived back, and he was more worried about this Flora vamp than anything else. Ace was always one to go by a motto he had: Fight what you can see.

Of course, Spike didn't give a damn about Flora at the moment. He needed to get to that diner. "I'll be fine, and don't any a you follow me or I'll knock you unconscious an leave you for the sun."

With that, he slammed the front door.

Silence engulfed the room. The group sat still and a bit shocked at the vampire's behavior, the same suspicion brewing between all of them.

Blake finally broke the tension. "Ya think he knows that HE is the only one allergic to sunlight?"


Chapter End Notes:
Please review! Tell me what you think of the characters, the diner, tell me what you think of the kitten- Anything! I love to hear your opinions!



You must login (register) to review.