Pissed

By: Willow25

Rating: PG for some very mild swearing and drunkenness

A/N: Written for a LiveJournal challenge issued by lilachigh. Prompt: A British/American misunderstanding.


Every so often, while Spike was livin' la vida hostage at Giles', she'd caught the two of them being civil to one another. Not that they'd admit it, but Buffy knew the Brits enjoyed having another guy around who understood things like single malt scotch and The Who. Xander sure as heck didn't get that stuff.

So, she was surprised when she found Giles at Spike's crypt; but not 'holy schlamoley' surprised, more 'oh, hey Giles' surprised. "Well, I'm guessing you don't want to patrol then, Spike." Buffy closed the door and wandered deeper into the crypt, watching the men curiously.

Spike nodded non-committally in her direction, used to having his privacy invaded by the Scoobies. At least this time Buffy hadn't kicked the door in. Giles blinked at Buffy, unable to fathom why she'd wandered into a vampire's lair. Forgetting that he'd done the same thing. After a moment, both sets of blue eyes returned to the TV as Buffy explored the room.

"Buffy. I just stopped by to be sure that…Well, that is…"

"Footie's on, no patrol for me tonight, Slayer. Thanks ever so for thinkin' of me."

Buffy blinked at him. "You're wearing jeans, Spike, not footies. They don't even make footies in your size."

Spike and Giles looked just as confused as she did, now; but Spike was the one to reply. "Footie, like football, Slayer. Can't wear a game, now can you?"

"Oh." Buffy was now even more confused. It had been a while since Freshman year cheerleading, but she was pretty sure it was basketball season right now. The Slayer moved closer to the TV, trying to see what they were watching. "Hey, that's not football, that's soccer!"

"Bloody American football; nothing but rugby with too much padding." Giles murmured, not taking his eyes from the small TV. Spike nodded, leaning slightly toward the screen.

Buffy shook her head at them. She'd had no idea British people called soccer football. It made sense, though; she'd never understood why "American football" was called football, since you couldn't touch the ball with your feet.

The sound of a whistle came through the TV, and the two Brits groaned in harmony. "Bloody 'ell, they're takin' the piss outa ManU!" Spike growled. "Blokes are tryin' to be sportsman-like, and the ref's blowin' all the bloody calls!"

Buffy had no clue what the whistle meant, or what any of it had to do with a university or some portion of one going to the restroom, but she tried to make conversation, since she was far too interested in the 'vampire and Watcher, watching soccer together' phenomenon to go patrol.

"The ref can make players leave to go pee? British football has very different rules than American soccer."

That remark was enough to distract both men from their game. "I meant, he's takin' advantage of them." Spike declared.

"Buffy, what are you doing here, again?" Giles flashed the Slayer an arched eyebrow.

"I was making Spike patrol with me; now I'm watching you watch 'football'." Buffy declared, complete with air quotes. "The better question is, Watcher-mine, what are you doing here?"

"Watchin' telly an' getting pissed." Spike replied for him. "Now, run along and patrol, Slayer, I'll join you tomorrow."

Buffy smirked as he turned back to the TV. "You need Giles around to get pissed? You get angry enough when he's not here."

Spike ignored her, leaving Giles to pick up the explanation. "Pissed is a British slang for…Intoxicated."

"Wait, so you're in the middle of a cemetery at night, watching TV and getting drunk with a vampire, and you're worried about me being here?" The Slayer shook her head. "Maybe I should nix patrol tonight and stick around to walk you home after the game. You got any popcorn, Spike?"

Both men groaned.