"Next bar?" Buffy grinned, "You mean, if we can walk after all the Tequila?" Dean, she knew, would be pretty worried at that. Sam, as a rule, wasn't a heavy drinker. Had never been at Stanford, which had been a blessing, really, because when Buffy had indulged in the fun beer-fest and been changed into Cave-Slayer? It'd been Sam who'd saved her from the blazing inferno on campus.
Stupid Parker.
Strangely, Buffy was okay with this - even though she was drinking Tequila, something she'd sworn she'd never do in her natural life again. Sam looked more relaxed than she'd seen him in years and if this was what it took to get him to shake loose a little? So be it.
"Hey, I'm doing this for you, Buster," she pointed out, laughing. "A friend in need and all... Why did we not do this more often?" Which, loosely translated? Meant that she'd missed him. A whole hell of a lot.
"I'll be able to walk," he smiled. "You may have some problems though, lightweight."
Not that he really planned to go bar-hopping tonight. One bar would do--especially if it got him hammered enough to just pass out tonight cause good sleep had yet to come to him again.
"Which part of this do you mean?" he asked, pouring two more shots. "The this that involves me getting you drunk or the this that involves us being in the same zipcode for more than ten minutes?"
Buffy pouted, "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?" Her beer had been totally possessed and yet Sam had got it into his head that she absolutely could not hold her liquor.
Of course, she couldn't... But it was always nice to have a fall-back, sort of, and since her tolerance for the stuff had lowered dramatically since her Cave-Slayer days she was totally willing to blame that.
"Us being in the same zipcode for more than ten minutes," she told him, taking her shot and making yet another face, "I know why I wouldn't let you get me drunk more often."
She blinked as she realized what she'd said, tried to cover it over quickly. They did not need to be bringing up that last time they were drunk together where they'd almost--Nope. "I mean... Not that I... Beer?" She held out his bottle to him, shaking her head slightly. Great, Buffy, open mouth - insert foot. "Beer good," she nodded, "Foamy..."
And something for her mouth to do when sheer death-defying embarassment took over.
He knew she could hold her liquor better when it wasn't special beer, but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to tease her relentlessly. Especially when he didn't get to do it enough lately
( ... )
"Nope, no cave-girl," said Buffy with a grin, knowing damn fine Sam remembered the last time they'd got wasted together. It'd been in college, granted, and Buffy had developed a little more tolerance for the alcohol side of things but still...
Passing out back then had saved their friendship. Literally. Two month of avoidage later, Buffy had got the call to go home - it'd been simpler for them as friends, was all. And she'd managed to make herself forget that he may or not have been the total right guy for her.
"Nothing was ever simple with us, huh?" She said this with a gentle smile, though it was really a vast understatement. Most people - most normal people, at any rate - would've given up already. It was testimony to their characters that they'd held on as long, she thought. Stubborn as ever, they were in this for the long haul.
"And now you're stuck with me post-Sunnydale. Buffy Summers, she of No Official ZipCode... God, that sounds weird."
"Simple is boring," he said with a small smile and a nod.
Complicated was their relationship, no matter which way you looked at it. It started off simple enough, but the more time they spent together, the more complicated things became. And then her mom had gotten sick, she'd moved back home, and a girl named Jessica became his American Lit partner.
Telling Buffy about Jess had honestly been the worst feeling in the world, and he shouldn't have felt any guilt about the relationship. He and Buffy had always been "just friends" and Jess had been that normal girl he'd thought he'd always want to spend the rest of his life with.
Or maybe that's what he had convinced himself.
"So what's the plan then?" he asked, pouring them each another shot. "You and Dawn hitting the road like Winchesters? Holing up with Giles for a bit?"
She eyed the shot warily as he poured, wondering if this had been her best plan ever. Of course the taste of it was disgusting, which just proved to her that it wasn't... But then he was asking her plans and Buffy found that there were some things that Tequila held ALL the answers to.
Only this wasn't one of them.
"I don't have a plan. I don't even have a pl. I think Giles was kinda miffed 'cause I bailed on the new Slayers..." She'd been running from one apocalypse into another, hadn't had time to think about the rammifications of what she'd done yet. Buffy shrugged, "I'll figure something out, I guess. Starting with the closet." She gestured down at Faith's clothes and shook her head. "This was the best my slaying sister had to offer and with my stuff lying at a bottom of a crater..."
It wasn't like she could be picky or anything. "Anya died." She blurted that out without thinking, winced. Xander had been pretty cut up about it but he'd understood, at least, why she had to come down here. No longer the only Chosen,
( ... )
It was hard to imagine Sunnydale gone. He'd only been there a handful of times, stayed a few times in the Summers house, but it'd been a touchstone. Kinda like Bobby's and the Roadhouse. It had been one of those places where it almost felt like he and Dean had a home, had family outside of each other.
But now it was gone. And it had been his touchstone but it had been Buffy's home. It'd been her life, and he could only imagine how that could feel to have that ripped out from underneath her feet
( ... )
"When did I ever dress like this?" Buffy asked, laughing. Because though her issues with Faith were now done, the girl could still dress like something you would find selling her wares on a street corner. And that was not a good look, Buffy-wise. "If you tell me you like it, I may have to kick your ass."
Sam got quiet once she told him about Anya and Buffy thought of the look on Xander's face when they'd realized she hadn't made it out of the school with the rest o them, that she'd died in there saving Andrew, of all people. That's my girl. Always doing the stupid thing.
And then came the big question, the one he wasn't sure how to answer if the look on his face was anything to go by.
Saving people, hunting things... Buffy'd heard that in various guises over the last few years she'd known Sam. The family business. Which had kind of been her family business too, only... Not any more.
No longer the only Chosen, Buff. She could up and leave this life if she wanted, become the Normal Girl she'd always strived for... And deep
( ... )
Stupid Parker.
Strangely, Buffy was okay with this - even though she was drinking Tequila, something she'd sworn she'd never do in her natural life again. Sam looked more relaxed than she'd seen him in years and if this was what it took to get him to shake loose a little? So be it.
"Hey, I'm doing this for you, Buster," she pointed out, laughing. "A friend in need and all... Why did we not do this more often?" Which, loosely translated? Meant that she'd missed him. A whole hell of a lot.
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Not that he really planned to go bar-hopping tonight. One bar would do--especially if it got him hammered enough to just pass out tonight cause good sleep had yet to come to him again.
"Which part of this do you mean?" he asked, pouring two more shots. "The this that involves me getting you drunk or the this that involves us being in the same zipcode for more than ten minutes?"
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Of course, she couldn't... But it was always nice to have a fall-back, sort of, and since her tolerance for the stuff had lowered dramatically since her Cave-Slayer days she was totally willing to blame that.
"Us being in the same zipcode for more than ten minutes," she told him, taking her shot and making yet another face, "I know why I wouldn't let you get me drunk more often."
She blinked as she realized what she'd said, tried to cover it over quickly. They did not need to be bringing up that last time they were drunk together where they'd almost--Nope. "I mean... Not that I... Beer?" She held out his bottle to him, shaking her head slightly. Great, Buffy, open mouth - insert foot. "Beer good," she nodded, "Foamy..."
And something for her mouth to do when sheer death-defying embarassment took over.
Reply
He knew she could hold her liquor better when it wasn't special beer, but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to tease her relentlessly. Especially when he didn't get to do it enough lately ( ... )
Reply
Passing out back then had saved their friendship. Literally. Two month of avoidage later, Buffy had got the call to go home - it'd been simpler for them as friends, was all. And she'd managed to make herself forget that he may or not have been the total right guy for her.
"Nothing was ever simple with us, huh?" She said this with a gentle smile, though it was really a vast understatement. Most people - most normal people, at any rate - would've given up already. It was testimony to their characters that they'd held on as long, she thought. Stubborn as ever, they were in this for the long haul.
"And now you're stuck with me post-Sunnydale. Buffy Summers, she of No Official ZipCode... God, that sounds weird."
Reply
Complicated was their relationship, no matter which way you looked at it. It started off simple enough, but the more time they spent together, the more complicated things became. And then her mom had gotten sick, she'd moved back home, and a girl named Jessica became his American Lit partner.
Telling Buffy about Jess had honestly been the worst feeling in the world, and he shouldn't have felt any guilt about the relationship. He and Buffy had always been "just friends" and Jess had been that normal girl he'd thought he'd always want to spend the rest of his life with.
Or maybe that's what he had convinced himself.
"So what's the plan then?" he asked, pouring them each another shot. "You and Dawn hitting the road like Winchesters? Holing up with Giles for a bit?"
Reply
Only this wasn't one of them.
"I don't have a plan. I don't even have a pl. I think Giles was kinda miffed 'cause I bailed on the new Slayers..." She'd been running from one apocalypse into another, hadn't had time to think about the rammifications of what she'd done yet. Buffy shrugged, "I'll figure something out, I guess. Starting with the closet." She gestured down at Faith's clothes and shook her head. "This was the best my slaying sister had to offer and with my stuff lying at a bottom of a crater..."
It wasn't like she could be picky or anything. "Anya died." She blurted that out without thinking, winced. Xander had been pretty cut up about it but he'd understood, at least, why she had to come down here. No longer the only Chosen, ( ... )
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But now it was gone. And it had been his touchstone but it had been Buffy's home. It'd been her life, and he could only imagine how that could feel to have that ripped out from underneath her feet ( ... )
Reply
Sam got quiet once she told him about Anya and Buffy thought of the look on Xander's face when they'd realized she hadn't made it out of the school with the rest o them, that she'd died in there saving Andrew, of all people. That's my girl. Always doing the stupid thing.
And then came the big question, the one he wasn't sure how to answer if the look on his face was anything to go by.
Saving people, hunting things... Buffy'd heard that in various guises over the last few years she'd known Sam. The family business. Which had kind of been her family business too, only... Not any more.
No longer the only Chosen, Buff. She could up and leave this life if she wanted, become the Normal Girl she'd always strived for... And deep ( ... )
Reply
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