Ok Many Many MANY moons ago,I was a Die Hard B/S fan, and I tried my hand at some. This was the result!

Drunk As A Skunk!


She was mad she was crazy angry. For the last nine months her life had been brutally interrupted, and by what, the annoying bleach blond vampire that had suddenly appeared and "informed" the slayerettes that he was going to help. The bloody wanker didn't even ask she complained to herself, unaware that even in her thoughts she was emanating her ex-mortal enemies/ fighting partners/ flat mates speech. Giles informed the group the next day that Spike would indeed be working with them, though he still to this day refused to divulge the reasons for it. And that was another thing that was pissing Buffy off; she was out of the loop.

Of course, none of this was the reason that she was drunk. Well part of it was, the Spike part! She growled again and took another swig of Willies cheapest, strongest liqueur. It had taken nearly three minutes for Willy to finally decide that the slayer was serious when she said that she would tear his arm off, and had relented to serve her, with much grumbling about how she was bad for business. Another thing that pissed her off, she had to WAIT for a drink.

With another grumble at the world, she took a long mouthful of the fiery liquid. It burned to the pit of her stomach, but she didn't care, she just wanted to drown her thoughts for a little while. She was actually quite impressed with herself; she had come along way with this drinking thing. For years after the frat fiasco she had stringently avoided alcohol, always slightly aware that she just wasn't able to take too much of the stuff. But this was the second bottle of cheap whiskey that she was on; of course she very much doubted that she could get off the grave she was sprawled over, even if the occupant decided to rise. He wouldn't, even a drunken slayer was a careful slayer, well sort of careful. The reason she was a little indecorously sprawled over the mound of earth was because she had bent over too far to read that the occupant had been dead since 1994, meaning that it was relatively safe, well as relatively safe as a graveyard in Sunnydale was.

"I don't need any help from anybody," she told the lichen-covered cupid that sat upon the gravestone opposite her, "Well except with the booky stuff." She amended with a small frown; "I just is a totally total dunce. But we all have our talents right, I do the busting and dusting, and they do the reading and stuff" she said waving her bottle around in the air to make her point. "They tell me who and how and wham bam thank you ma'am they is dust.. How come there are no dust bunnies outside, don't bunnies live outside?" When the cupid gave no reasonable response she just mumbled about asking Giles, cos he would know.

"Anyways, I have the booky friends, what do I neeeeeed a bleached anemone for."

Again the cupid stayed quiet.

"I" She began thumping the bottle to her chest "I am the chosen one, ONE... well two, but that's not my fault.. Okay so it kindda is, but I died, so its not entirely MY fault.. Anyways IIIIIIIIIIII am the vampire slayer.. The only one, except for the other vampire slayer.. But the other vampire slayer is NOT Spike! He's a vampire.. And I slay vampires, I should slay him.. Shouldn't I slay him?"

Cupid just looked at her.

Looking down at the almost empty bottle, she noticed her feet.

"Who the HELL stoled my shoes? They were on my feet, and now they are gone.. BLOODY demons, will take ANYTHING.. What is the world coming too."

Cupid just looked on and smiled.

"You know what, I don't think I like your attitude. I am just gonna have to kick your butt, then maybe you will have manners enough to answer me, and stop bloody smiling."

Taking another mouthful of the whiskey, she heaved herself indecorously onto unstable feet. Swinging the bottle around for emphasis she staggered over towards the cupid.

"Okay Mr Cupid... just hold still a minute, and I will kick your ass." Squatting down a bit and scrunching her eyes up she tried to see just the one smiley face.. Gearing herself up, she spun and kicked the air

"Oooo you waskly waskel now hold still next time" she said from her new spot on the floor.

Applause from behind her made her arch her back and neck, and there, upside down, leaning nonchalantly against a gravestone a bit further back from the one she had just been leaning up against was Spike.

"Spike, you know the blood is gonna rush to your head if you stand upside down for too long." she slurred.

"Slayer, are you smashed?"

"Like humpty dumpty!!" she said with a grin, seconds later she said with a frown, "But we don't got no kings, so no men to put me all back.. Wonder if the president has men and horses?" she mumbled.

"Hey, how come your in MY cemetery" She asked snapping back into it for a second. "I thought you had some hot date"

"Well first off ducks, this isn't YOUR bloody cemetery, and second, what's it matter to you what I was doing"

"Is too my cemetery, I am gonna be buried here sometime sooooon, so I got dibs on It.. And I don't care what you were doing.. Or who you were doing it with, or why you would want someone else.. I just want you outta my cemetery" She said thrusting her bottle out in front of her. Noticing it attached to her hand, she brought it back to her lips.

"You jealous slayer?"

"Of you? Ha"

"I didn't mean of me"

"Ooooo.. Huh... ooooh, no I'm soo not jealous, so so so not, nopers, not no way, not no how, not no who, not no when, not no no."

He chuckled, "Me thinks you doth protest too much luv"

"Oooo, how like a vampire, can't talk in a every day modern way."

"Like your the poster child for correct speaking ducks"

"What is it about you and fowl? Foul fowl, your always calling people ducks, did you have a traumatised childhood?"

"As a matter of fact I did. Now slayer, I think its time we got you home, this is just not the sacred duty gig, getting smashed in a cemetery."

"I'm not going anywhere..."

"Come on luv be reasonable"

"And I'm not your luv neither, but I am NOT going anywhere till we find the demon that stoled my shoes. For they must be taken and tortured.. You got a rail spike thingy on you?" She asked as he started to heave her up to her feet, leaning heavily on her.

"No slayer, I don't.. And as much fun as torturing sounds are these the shoes your whining about?" he held them up

"No spike on Spike? Ooo then you gotta have a gun in your pocket" she replied with a cheeky grin as she pushed off him, snatching her shoes away and began to walk unsteadily towards the exit.

Stuffing his hands deep in his pockets Spike cast an annoyed glance at the cupid "Why do I put up with this mate?" Cupid just looked at him knowingly. "Yeah your prob'ly right" he said unhappily as he trudged after the slayer.

He didn't have to go far. Sat on the pavement, just to the right of the cemetery gate Buffy sat, in earnest contemplation of her feet. More especially her toes and the black painted nails, the symbolism, meaning and ramifications, which could be attached by act or the words spilling forth from the intoxicated slayer, he was persistently ignoring. "See we gotta repaint you" she continued conversationally with her feet. "Cos, black well its not my colour, its Spikes colour, and well he's never gonna notice you." she pointed at her toes with her now empty bottle. "Where'd that cupid go? No matter, we can live without that prat. He wasn't up for tearing the hair outta Spikes girl anyways. Ohh and ripping nails, I read that that was painful. Ooo bad slayer, naughty slayer, we protect lives, we don't torture non-dead things. But if she's dead she's fair game right?"

"I need a drink," Spike mumbled from behind her causing her to attempt to spin around on her bottom, subsequently shredding the skirt she was wearing.

"Well you can't have none of mine, cos its gone.. We could go torture Willy for more, cos I ran out. Hey!! How long have you been standing there"

"Long enough to hear that you and cupid were conspiring against my date" he laughed.

Had she been sober she would have been mortified, but the state she was in it barely bothered her. "WE did not do any planning or 'spiring" she declared, then with an impish grin she added "I had to do it all, cupids a real spoiled sport"

"Slayer I think we better get you to bed before you say something that you really regret." He said helping her to her feet and starting to walk towards the small flat of his she rented.

"Nah, unless I tell Spike I love him, I'm safe as houses. Which aren't really safe in California ya know.. Lots of earth quakes and hell mouths and umm orange juice."

Spike just continued walking mechanically, the slayer DEFINATLY did NOT say what he thought she did, and she was drunk. And the thought that she DID say that, in no way made him happy, he was Spike, the mean wicked, evil vamp and he didn't get happy cos certain stunning blond slayers declare things that they didn't, especially when they didn't say it when they were drunk.

"Hey! How come there are no dust bunnies in the outdoors, I think we should let the dust bunnies back in the wild." She continued.

"I don't know Buffy"

She stopped.

"What did you call me?"

"Huh?"

"Great retort Spike, I axsd what ya called me"

"Umm, Buffy?"

"Hmmm... Thought so," she said then continued to walk down the road.

End

And... there IS a sequel, unless I screwed up its posted back there somewhere (waves vaguely)