Title: Double Chocolate Chip
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money as presents. Yes yes.
Rating: PG (just in case?)
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Buffy crashed into a tombstone as Willow winced in sympathy, pulling her sweater tighter around her shivering body and sipping lukewarm cocoa. Buffy had seemed distracted this evening during their study session, and was taking way to long to dust this newly-turned vamp. Willow wondered if perhaps Buffy was still disgusted by her near wedding to Spike. She fingered the bag of cookies she had brought, rehearsing a peaceful, non-confrontational way of offering the tired Slayer some double chocolate chip.
"It's been fun, but I have a test tomorrow, and you've interrupted my study time," Buffy informed the dust at her feet. "Well, I'm good. I know everything there could ever be to know about chemistry," she assured Willow as she brushed off her hands and picked up her books.
"Well, that's great Buffy." Willow was glad Buffy had regained some focus. "Are you taking Chemistry?"
"Is that not what we were just studying for?" A hint of worry crept into Buffy's voice. She glanced down at the History textbook she held. "Oh."
Willow felt an surge of pity. "Are you still thinking about-"
"No!" Buffy said forcefully. "Well, maybe. Whenever I stop to think I feel his lips on me. And the thing that wigs me…it doesn't completely disgust me."
Willow knew an opening when it presented itself. "I baked you some cookies," she announced brightly. "And I guarantee they don't taste like Spike. Just cookie-flavored cookies here."
Buffy chuckled. "Thanks, but I can't. I should probably get some sleep before my test tomorrow…like it will help."
Willow laid a sympathetic hand on Buffy's shoulder. It never ceased to amaze her that Buffy could go from Slaying vamps to normal life faster than Willow herself could shake a finger at. They parted in silence, both a little embarrassed by Spike, even though he wasn't present.
Buffy hummed tunelessly as she walked home from the graveyard. The Slayer had moved back home a little early for the winter holidays, and was thrilled to be returning to her own room. She loved Willow to death but she needed a break from her clingyness.
Buffy was deeply in thought, and thus failed to notice the cat until she almost tripped on it. Offended, it lashed out at her arm, tearing three deep gouges into her skin before jetting into the night. Cursing, Buffy examined her injured appendage, amazed that a kitten had hurt her far more than the vampire she had tussled with earlier. She sighed. Was it too much to expect a 'thank you' every now and again from the world? The animal didn't realize it owed its existence to her many times over. "I don't even know why I bother saving the world anymore," the Slayer informed an elderly woman waiting for a late bus. She only received a stare in reply.
Tired, Buffy unlocked her door and sagged inside, eager to get into bed, away from the exam that awaited her in the morning.
Buffy awoke much earlier than was necessary if her clock was right. Looking at the dark outside her window, she had a sinking feeling that it was. With a resigned sigh, Buffy began the process of getting out of bed - and froze as the sound that had awakened her began again. Her mind began to race as she considered the possibilities that the sound promised. Obviously some demon was forcing entry to her home. Quickly praying for her mother's safety, she fumbled for the axe she had tiredly left by her bedside the night before, mentally congratulating herself on her messy habits.
She crept down the familiar stairs, skipping the step that creaked to avoid alerting the unseen enemy to her presence. With practiced grace, Buffy leaped into the kitchen, brandishing the axe and preparing a cutting remark. She stopped dead in her tracks. "Hi, Mom. I thought you were a demon because, of course, I didn't expect you to be destroying our kitchen." Buffy watched, stupefied, as her mother swung a five pound sledge hammer before turning to face her.
"Surely you didn't forget that the contractors are coming today. I told you about it last week. We want them gone as fast as possible before…unfortunate things happen to them. I thought that I'd get a head start this morning. Sorry if I woke you up."
Contractors. Great. "Are you sure you told me this last week? Are we thinking of the same last week?" Buffy wondered aloud as her mother turned back to demolishing the wall behind where the oven used to be.
Her mother smiled in response. "Busy week, Buffy? If you need to let anything out, you can work on this wall." Joyce handed her daughter the hammer. "I think I have some cookies left over from yesterday, if you want them." She wandered upstairs, seeking a shower to remove the dust from her hair and face.
At the mention of cookies Buffy lost her temper. "Cookies?" she whispered angrily to the sledge as she tore through an offending wall. "Why is it always cookies? Just what is so wonderful about cookies?" Slightly mollified, she peered at the rubble, the only evidence that a wall had once separated the kitchen and living room.
Buffy glared angrily down at her test. She wasn't majoring in history! The test was impossibly hard. And to add insult to injury, Willow was flying through it. Buffy sighed loudly, and examined the first question again. She could not, for the life of her, remember the course title.
Buffy checked the contents of her shopping bag again. She couldn't believe she'd let Willow talk her into this. How was baking cookies going to solve anything? After horrible days you were supposed to curl up on the couch with a tub of ice cream, not work in a kitchen for your comfort food. But Buffy was forced to acknowledge that a good deal of Willow's guilt had faded due to the healing power of cookies. And her mother seemed more upbeat than usual, possibly due to this same healing. How hard was it any way? Will had explained that the trick was to under bake them a little.
She halted abruptly before entering her home. Bake! As in use the oven. Which her kitchen was most definitely lacking now. Still, Buffy was reluctant to give up the cooking project. Her day was really awful, and she needed a little bit of comfort. She began to think of kitchens she could borrow.
Xander's was awkward, mostly because his mother expected him to stay in the basement, and she wanted Xander's friends with Xander. Buffy focused on the other possibility. Giles had a nice kitchen. He was at some librarian convention too, so she could avoid talking about her tragic morning. In almost every way, Giles' kitchen was perfect. But that was where Spike was.
Buffy shook herself angrily. Since when had Spike had any say in the decisions she made? Plus, he was chained in the bathtub. Defiantly, she squared her shoulders and turned towards Giles' home. She could almost smell the cookies now.
"Hi, Spike. It's me." Buffy called as she shut Giles' heavy door behind her. From the bathroom she heard a groan of annoyance, but that was all. Reassured by his lack of acknowledgment, she moved into the kitchen and began her task.
It was easier than she expected, and she was surprised to discover that she did indeed feel a bit happier. Before the cookies had much of a chance to cool, she swept them onto a plate and set off towards the bathroom, lured on by the theme song of "Days of Our Lives," her favorite soap opera.
Spike barely glanced at her as she entered, his focus riveted on the tiny screen. Without speaking she sat on the toilet with her warm cookies in her lap. She was gratified to discover that the cookies actually tasted as good as they smelled. Better, in fact. The gooey chocolate chips made the day worth living she decided.
As the commercials ended and the sap-fest returned, Buffy craned her head. Stupid Spike, she thought, with his super vampire hearing. Reluctantly, she set the plate on the counter and reached towards the TV, intent on turning up the volume. The action revealed her ravaged arm to the man in the tub beside her, who licked his lips as he waggled his eyebrows at her.
"That looks wonderful. Just bring it a bit closer so I can have some munchies during the show, too, won't you pet?" he quipped, blinking in an almost puppy-like manner.
Buffy rolled her eyes. Her reflexive reaction was to slap him, but for some reason she found herself stuffing a cookie in his mouth instead. Spike's eyes widened. Much like her mother's hot chocolate, the cookie the Slayer shoved on him could actually become a favorite treat.
Buffy set a stack of cookies in easy reach and tuned out Spike's contented crunching. An odd peace settled over the tiny bath room.
At the next commercial break, Spike cleared his throat. "You know, Slayer," he began, "I don't completely loathe you." He settled back in the tub, satisfied by his impromptu announcement.
Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "And I don't find you totally disgusting," she assured him.
Spike grinned at her. They both returned their attentions to the hypnotic screen at the end of the commercial.
