I know it was wrong. The whole holding hands bit. I just...I just couldn't stop myself. It felt nice and the moment totally struck me to do such a thing. Would he read more into it -like there wasn't enough to read between us as is?- or just chalk it up as me being shaken up after a fight? Which I was. Not that it was the cause for me having snatched up his hand and walked the entire distance between the fight local and the motel. It felt nice to just pretend to be a normal girl out with a normal guy after a nice date. Even if we weren't normal. We weren't dating, and that fight back there was faaaaaar from normal. Oh, yeah
( ... )
I was about to argue. I wasn’t finished with the whole ‘Spike thing’. But as soon as I opened my mouth, Buffy had begun walking away from the scene. Clearly she didn’t want anymore of it. In fact, she was probably reserving her energy for the bigger argument, when Spike and me would finally go face-to-face
( ... )
I pondered just sittin there and ignoring them longer, but I couldn do that to her, so soddin weak when it comes t’her. Maybe one day I’d get over that? Iono, ‘til then I was loves bitch, whee, isn tha’just fun
( ... )
That smell wasn't too awful. Smelt like burnt candles. Not..."Bug zapper?"...remains. Oh, okay, that was just gross. Pressing my tongue between my lips, I gave a look of positive disdain. A bug zapper in a house...motel...room, whatever! It was still just disgusting. Looking around, I tried to spy the bug zapper, but didn't see it hanging from any corner of the room or laying on the near spotless floor. Save for the blood stains in the carpet? Narrowing my eyes at the stain, I tiped towards it, peering down to notice it was dried up ketchup. Again with the gross
( ... )
Bolognaise sauce never cleaned out, I’d tried, ah who cared anymore, let her find whatever she wanted to, didn’ matter. I turned hard eyes back on Buffy, probably the hardest look I’d given her in a long time, it lasted only a second o’course, till I realised who I was glaring at. I couldn’ even be pissed at her for bringin him here. Pussy whipped? Most likely
( ... )
It definitely wasn't my night. Probably could even shoot for it not being my year. To me, that was a given, but to everyone else, they'd most likely argue the fact. I had good enough reason in their eyes to be having the best year ever. Too bad they didn't know and that hopefully they'd never know. Could you just see Faith? She'd be all grins inside knowing that she was sort of the chosen one. Un-effected by the whole spell thingy. Then again, maybe not. Maybe she'd feel left out of the loop. Guh! I need to not think about it and not think about everything that's here. From the food in the brown bag, to the CD player and the candles that were far from bathroom decorations. He was planning this whole night, and I end up ruining it
( ... )
I sat there watching Spike move about in the kitchen. He had taken a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass, which sort of surprised me. What was the glass for? As much as I hated the idiot, I knew him. And it was vice-versa. Hell, we’d spent the better part of some decades with each other, tearing to pieces the old world. Nowadays we would have rather wanted to see the other torn to pieces. We were bitter rivals and yet there was a kindred connection between us. As much as I hated the bastard there was still some respect. Just a little
( ... )
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