Good Arms to Have
"And did you see those arms? Those are good arms to have." -Buffy, season 4
Arms. Not just any run of the mill arms, but Riley's arms. God, I wish he didn't wear sweaters so much. Tight sweaters, granted, but they hide up those arms. Maybe he can bench press my body weight in, well, weights. God, he's sexy. I just wish he would get over Nervous Boy Routine and get on with the asking me out proper. Coffee's all well and good, but if I drink any more this week I'll probably be up till Easter. Maybe I should switch to decaf if he doesn't switch to getting courage up soon. I don't know how much more of this I can stand. Course girls are supposed to be all liberated and modern now and I could do the asking out, but where's the fun in that? Some glass ceilings shouldn't come crashing down just yet. First official date-date regulations being one of them.
I have perfect attendance in Pop Psych and it's not cause I'm an avid fan of Professor Walsh.
"Buffy, hi," the man in question says, stepping out to walk beside me across the quad towards Stevens. Willow says he's gotta wait for me to be so there every MWF after class. She likes the prospect of me dating him for some reason. Maybe it's the heartbeat factor or that she wants to throw her energy into something other than thinking over Oz, but I don't mind much. Sometimes I can be oblivious to lots of stuff and I need Willow as my eyes and ears for those Buffy Space-Case moments.
"How you coming along with that 15 page beast Professor Walsh assigned?" Riley asks, fiddling with his backpack straps as he walks.
"Up to hefty page zip," I say, smiling up at him, having to also squint since the sun's in my eyes. "I do my best work under pressure."
"I wouldn't procrastinate so long," he advises like Good TA Boy. "Other professors love to assign papers around mid-term. You don't want to be overloaded."
"I'll worry about that when I have to," I say. "Right now I'm just gonna enjoy the sun and the cutie walking next to me...Uh...Did I really just say that out loud?"
Riley laughs, actually blushing in embarrassment. "You think I'm a cutie?"
"Um." I shrug, deciding to just go with it. "Definite hotie potential with shirt off – oops – I mean in short sleeves. Long sleeves hide all the arm musclely goodness that Buffy likes so much."
"Third person is the same thing as saying 'I'."
"Maybe I was talking about the other Buffy."
"There are no other Buffys."
I grin, hoping the perky cuteness will cover up the complete moron streak. "Curse my mom for being original."
Riley is quiet as he considers either my doofy charm or scary stalker potential. "If you can say you like my 'arm musclely goodness', I can say I like your short skirt appeal."
"Hey, I'm short. Gotta compensate somehow." I grin. "So, you're a leg man then, eh, Mr. Finn?"
"Actually a whole package man – brains included – but legs – especially your legs – are very, very nice."
"Well, maybe you can see more of my very, very nice legs in a non-coffee, non-school setting."
"Dinner?" he asks, stopping outside of Stevens Hall.
"When?"
"This Friday?"
"Pick me up at 7." I flash a patented Buffy grin. "I'll be sure to wear a short skirt."
"And I'll be sure to wear short sleeves."