A/N: Much love and sloppy kisses to Unbridled Brunette for being my beta-horse in midstream. (Does that metaphor even make any sense?)

Chapter 7: Stupid Girls

“So, she’s just yelling at me on the phone, and I’m like, ‘Lady, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?’” said Buffy, recounting her latest work woes over lunch with Willow and Tara.

“Did you actually say that to her?” asked Tara.

“I wish,” Buffy replied with a giggle. “No, that was Buffy's Inner Monologue. God, this job sucks.”

“But it’s only for a little while, right?” Tara said, as the waitress placed their orders in front of them.

“Ooh, yeah, maybe your next job will be something exciting,” said Willow, pondering the possibilities. Unfortunately, even her creative imagination couldn’t come up with any examples of exciting jobs that came from temp agencies.

“I think the slaying gives me more than my fair share of excitement,” Buffy replied. “Like, my fair share times ten.”

Willow glanced at her coyly. “Any… other exciting things to report?”

Buffy knew Willow had been dying to ask since they sat down, and was impressed that she’d held out until the food arrived. “Yes, Will. He called me yesterday.”

“He called you?” She squealed with delight, causing a few nearby diner patrons to turn their heads. Buffy looked down at her turkey club to hide the silly smile creeping across her face. “Buffy, that’s so great! I knew you’d hit it off.”

“Yeah, Buffy, that’s great,” Tara echoed, more composed than her girlfriend.

“Yeah, and he even withstood his first demon attack and didn’t run in terror.” Buffy was still marveling at it herself.

Willow’s jaw dropped. “He fought a demon?”

Buffy laughed. “No, he got thrown like a rag doll and temporarily lost consciousness. But after a day to reflect, I guess he decided I was worth the concussion.”

Tara munched on a French fry and pondered this development. “So are you going to tell him about the slaying?”

Buffy sighed, pushing the fries around on her plate restlessly. “I don’t know. I mean, secrets in a relationship definitely equal bad, and I always feel like an idiot making excuses when I have to run off. Like the other night – a gang on PCP? That’s the best I could come up with?” Willow and Tara giggled.

“But it’s kinda supposed to be a secret, you know? Giles has said a hundred times…” Buffy trailed off. Watcher references still didn’t bring up the warm fuzzies with her friends. “Anyway, spilling the beans on the whole Slayer thing is kind of a no-no.”

“Maybe just wait and see if it comes up?” said Tara. “I mean, he saw you fight, so he’s probably kind of curious.”

Buffy sighed. “You know, I really took it for granted that Angel and Riley knew I was the Slayer. I mean, they weren’t exactly normal guys, but it made things so much easier.”

“Then maybe you should…” Willow said.

“Honestly? I think if I told him anything, he’d freak,” Buffy replied, in a matter-of-fact tone that made the witches drop the subject.

“So… when are you seeing him again?” Tara asked in a teasing, singsong voice.

Buffy couldn’t hide her smile. “Friday.”

“You want us to stay with Dawnie?” Willow offered.

“Sorry, she asked for Spike.” Buffy winced apologetically. She knew that Willow missed spending time with Dawn, but these days her sister hardly ever wanted anyone but Spike. And, she had to admit, she felt safer with the vampire watching Dawn. At least then she’d be protected from any physical harm. Not that she didn’t trust Willow’s power. Obviously, the girl could work some major mojo – witness Buffy’s resurrection – but Buffy still preferred brute force when it came to fighting demons. Call her old-fashioned, but it worked.

On the other hand, Spike had been all Mr. Bad Moody Grouchypants. When she’d gone to see him last night, he’d been –

“Buffy?”

She snapped her head up, realizing she’d been staring blankly at her plate, lost in thought. She wasn’t even sure which of her friends had said her name. “Sorry,” she said again. “I was just… I dunno, it’s just… Spike was kinda… weird when I talked to him last night.”

“Like… comically quirky weird?” asked Willow. “Or, like, about to slaughter a village weird?”

“Like, sullen and grumpy. And kind of a jerk.”

“He’s a vampire. Vampires are moody.” Willow didn’t seem too bothered by it. “I mean, hello? Angel?”

“Maybe he’s jealous,” said Tara, more intuitive than the other two.

“Of… Jacob?”

“Could be.”

“But it was only one… date…” Buffy trailed off, as the second anvil hit her in as many days. She propped her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. “God, I’m so stupid. And I was just sitting there, going on about…” She trailed off, suddenly realizing how self-absorbed she’d been lately. It had been so important to her to be friends with Spike, to make sure she was treating him differently, that she’d failed to recognize the fact that he was still in love with her.

“Buffy… what?”

Buffy shook her head, avoiding Willow’s concerned look. “Nothing. I was just Tact-Free Buffy, is all.”

“Buffy, you should talk to him,” Tara said earnestly.

“No! No, I – I can’t.” She’d done more than enough talking already. Way too much talking. In fact, it would probably be best if she stopped doing the talking thing altogether. At least with Spike. If she stayed away, she couldn’t hurt him, right?

Then her eyes widened, and she glanced down at her watch. “Oh, geez, my lunch break is almost up. Can’t be late for an exciting afternoon of selling people insurance over the phone.” She rolled her eyes as the two Wiccans groaned sympathetically, though at least one of them was worried about more than just her tardiness.

*****

“The child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn.”

Dawn peered out the door at the figure leaning against the porch railing, silhouetted against the twilight, a wisp of smoke trailing from the cigarette in his hand. “What’d you call me?” she asked, as she stepped back to let the vampire into her house.

Spike tossed the cigarette on the lawn before coming inside. “It’s from the Odyssey. Don’t they teach you anything in school?”

Dawn made a face as she plopped herself on the sofa, half amused and half annoyed. “You’re in a mood, aren’t you?”

“Am not,” Spike retorted, lapsing into teenager mode as he collapsed next to her.

“Are too. You’re in a mood because Buffy’s on a date.”

Spike tried to look put out at the suggestion, but she had his number and he knew it. “She gone already?” he asked, noticing the Slayer’s absence. He hadn’t seen Buffy since that night in his crypt. Dawn had been the one to stop by after school, asking him to baby-sit again. He got the distinct impression her sister was avoiding him.

Dawn nodded. “They went someplace to watch the sunset.” She let out a small, wistful sigh at the romantic setting.

Spike snorted, reminding her whose side she was supposed to be on. “I’m sure it’s… not that interesting,” she assured him, to no avail. It was hard to tell a vampire that a sunset was no big deal when he hadn’t been able to see it in over a hundred years.

“’S just, I’da got here sooner if I’d known she was gonna leave so early.” Spike tried to shrug off Buffy’s date while at the same time asserting how seriously he took his baby-sitting job. Dawn was fooled by neither.

“I think she didn’t want you to be here when Jacob showed up,” she said gently.

Spike snorted again and made a conspiratorial face at her to cover the hurt.

“She’s pretty dumb, you know,” said Dawn. Her tone was light with sisterly teasing, but carried enough weight to offer a measure of comfort.

“Who? Your sis?”

Dawn nodded. “I don’t know why you like her.”

He gave her a sad smile. “Sometimes I don’t either, Bit.” He closed his eyes and sighed, sinking into the pillows behind his head. “Don’t really have a choice, though. ’S just the way I’m built, I guess.”

“What, to fall in love with stupid girls?”

He sat upright, indignant. “Hey!”

“Oh, come on,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. “Drusilla? Puh-leeze. She’s one decoder ring short of a Cracker Jack box. And don’t even make me bring up Harmony.”

He raised one eyebrow at her in what was meant to be an intimidating look, even though he knew that hadn’t worked on her for years. It didn’t help his case that he couldn’t quite keep the corners of his mouth from turning upward – which, after all, was just what Dawn was trying to accomplish. “Okay, Snack Pack, had about enough of your smart mouth. So, unless you fancy yourself a blood donor, you best be keeping it shut.”

The lack of malice in his voice lessened the threat considerably, and she grinned and bounced off the sofa, pulling his arm. “Can we order a pizza?”

“Yeah,” he growled, allowing her to tow him toward the kitchen. “Long as you don’t get that bloody pineapple kind.”