2/Never Failed
Thank you to the following people: Isabelle, Belladonna, veggie'slilangel,
Kelley, and Josie. Anybody else...sorry I missed you. You musta commented
after I posted!
When you get to it, "snarfle" is used without permission from Mae, my cohort.
"Mirror, Mirror" belongs to M2M.
~*~ 2/Never Failed ~*~
The dark-haired girl stooped down flat on the grass. She'd finally found
the black DeSoto, and had been drawn like a moth to the yellow light
drifting from the small rectangular window allowing her access to watching
the room it harbored. The blond man was watching MTV.
She snorted. "What a loser," she muttered.
Then she noticed that the car was unattended.
Ka-ching.
She jumped up and edged over to the car. The moment she managed to
jimmy open the lock, a loud car alarm went off. And she looked down,
figuring out that the DeSoto had an alarm rigged on it. Somehow. 'Little
turd,' she thought.
She turned around and ran into the blond guy. "H-hi," she said, blinking at
him.
"Hi luv," he smirked. She backed up against the car as he propped his arms
on it. "Wha' do you think you were tryin' to do?"
"Uh...nothing," she wished she could make herself smaller.
"Looked like a whole lotta somethin' goin' on for nothin'," he retorted. "Why
don't you just fess up? I won' turn you in, Scout's Honor."
She didn't trust him and narrowed her dark eyes at her, her already pale
skin pallid in the sickly yellow streetlight. "Why should I trust *you*?"
"Because I used t' be like you, pet," he replied. "Name's Spike."
"Faith," she said guardedly.
"Why would you wanna steal a P.O.S. like my DeSoto, pet?" he asked her,
looking at her curiously.
She looked at his eyebrow. "A scar."
"Wha'?" Spike frowned at her. "'A scar' is why?"
"No. You have a scar," she repeated. "Right there," she traced it with a
calloused finger. "Didn't know my nails were that sharp."
Recognition flickered in Spike's ice blue eyes. "You! You're the bint who tried
to steal my car the other day! Bloody hell..."
Faith laughed. As soon as Spike lifted his arm, Faith took off. "Bye!"
Spike frowned, scratching his head in puzzlement. "Bloody hell..."
***
"Has he even come by the house yet, Buffy?" Willow asked, sitting on her friend's
bed, eating popcorn with her.
"No," Buffy replied sullenly. "He hasn't even come by the house! I wonder if I hit
him too hard..."
"You hit him?" Willow's eyes bugged and her hand froze with two pieces of popcorn
in it.
"Well not with my fists or anything," Buffy looked at Willow. "He forgot his boots so
I threw them out the window at him. Hit him in the head," then she began to giggle,
"and on his cute little ass."
Willow laughed. "He musta yelled 'bloody hell!'" she guessed, mimicking his Cockney
accent terribly.
"I think he did," Buffy laughed a little. "But...Wills...it's been four days since I even
talked to him..."
It was Friday night, the same night Spike met Faith. Willow was spending the night
at the distraught bride-to-be's house, because Buffy had looked seriously depressed
that morning.
The phone rang.
"Maybe that's him," Willow suggested hopefully.
"I doubt it," Buffy sighed heavily, picking up the phone. "Hello."
:Hello, Buffy.:
The voice was distorted, almost computerized. The monotonous tone made it
impossible to decipher the speaker's sex.
"Who's this?" she frowned.
:You-know-who.:
The hair on the back of Buffy's neck prickled. "What do you want?"
:You never should've pulled that stunt in January. Shame on you. Didn't your
mother teach you never to do that?:
Buffy pushed the "talk" button quickly and then pressed it again, turning the phone
back on and setting it on the nightstand.
"Who was that?" Willow asked, studying her friend.
"Him. He's back," Buffy looked fearfully at her best friend. "He's pissed off too."
***
After Spike went back into Xander's basement after the run-in with Faith, he decided
to swallow his pride and his ego and call Buffy, just to see how she was doing. When
he called, he got the busy signal, so he frowned and waited a few minutes before
dialing again. Once more, he got the busy signal. Who could Buffy be on the phone
with? He tried repeating this pattern for at least a half-hour, and each time he got
the busy signal. Who the hell was she on the phone with?
So Spike did the next best thing--he grabbed his duster off the peg by the door and
stomped out the door.
"Spike?" Xander called from upstairs. He heard the DeSoto engine roar to life. He
opened the front door, clad in a white tanktop and a pair of boxer shorts. "Spike!"
Spike stuck his head out the window, half-lit cigarette dangling from his mouth,
"What?"
"Where are you going?" Xander asked.
"To see my bride-to-be!"
And as the DeSoto rolled down the road, Xander sighed and said, "Thank God."
***
Spike made it halfway to Revello Drive before turning around and driving back to
Xander's house. He missed Buffy something terrible, but he wasn't prepared to
see her yet. If he could still talk himself into losing his temper over what happened,
he wasn't ready to see her yet. Speak to her, sure, but talk face-to-face, not
yet.
So he parked his DeSoto in the Harris's driveway and let himself into the basement
Xander called home. "Couldn't do it."
"What?" Xander frowned. "Come on, you were so close! So revved to go!"
"Gee Xandy, if I didn't know better I'd think you didn't like me staying here," Spike
said sarcastically.
"Do me a favor and don't ever, ever call me 'Xandy' again. As it is I'm going to
have nightmares," Xander flipped through the channels and chugged down a
Coca-Cola (tm). "Ah. Dracula."
"Turn that off," Spike scoffed. "Tha's cheesy vampire lore and only half of it's
true."
"And you would know this how, Fang Boy?" Xander teased mockingly.
"Oh, you're a riot," Spike retorted, then hung his duster on its peg and changed
into a pair of sweats and an Grateful Dead T-shirt.
The phone rang and Spike snatched it up. "Harris-Walthrop residence." He
paused, shooting a knowing look at Xander, "I'm afraid Mr. Harris is detained at
the moment...oooh yeah, c'mon Xandy..." Spike said, getting Xander back for
the "Fang Boy" remark.
Xander snatched the phone away from Spike, socking his arm. "Hey. Sorry
about that. My idiot roommate thinks he's a laugh a minute."
"I am, Cordy," he said loud enough for Cordelia to hear.
Xander shot a look at Spike. "She says to keep your paws off me, I'm hers,
not yours."
"Hardee har har," Spike replied, changing the channel from Dracula to Bring
It On. "This is my kinda movie."
***
Faith flipped herself over a wall and into someone's backyard, proceeding to
flip herself into the next backyard and the one after that. Someone shined a
flashlight on her and shouted at her to stop.
She froze for some reason and looked up. A blond girl had her head poked out
of the window, a redheaded girl next to her. "What'cha doin' down there?"
"Just passing through. Sorry," Faith called back.
"Hey, don't you go to our school?" the redhead asked.
Faith just stared at them, then tilted her head to the side. "Buffy? Willow?"
"Faith!" the two exclaimed.
Buffy clicked off the flashlight, "Stay there, we'll be right down!"
Buffy and Willow had been acquainted with Faith since their freshmen year,
but didn't have any classes with her their sophomore or junior years. Their
memories of her had gotten a little fuzzy, but they could still place her with
her name. Buffy was the first one down, but by the time she reached her
backyard, Faith was gone.
"Where'd she go?" Buffy asked, turning to Wiillow and getting bowled over.
"Ow! Wills!"
"Sorry, brakes don't work," Willow rolled off of Buffy and the sprinklers chose
that moment to turn on.
Two female shrieks pierced the night air.
And Faith snickered on the other side of the street.
***
Easter Sunday morning found Spike sprawled on the floor, one arm on the arm of
the couch and the opposite leg propped up on the coffee table and him snoring
obnoxiously in nothing but his boxers.
Xander jerked awake after hearing one of Spike's particularly loud snores and
rolled over, looking at Spike. "Jeez," he muttered. He threw his comforter at
Spike. "Wake up, Fangy."
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at his alarm clock...
...to find a large pink and pastel blue egg sitting right in front of the red digital
numbers.
Xander groaned.
His mother thought he was still four years old, and every Easter she set out an
Easter basket for Xander and made him wander through the basement looking
for the the elusive-yet-in-blatant-view dyed eggs.
It. Never. Failed.
Even when Xander was living in Lake Tahoe, his mother insisted on doing the
Easter thing. On the bright side, he always got candy.
"Fang Face," Xander threw a pillow at Spike.
He got a snarfle in response.
Xander threw his other pillow at Spike, and apparently hit him in the nose
because Spike sat up, rubbing the same orifice. "...Ow."
"'Bout time, Fang Face," Xander grumbled. Spike yanked his arm off the couch
and brought his leg down, sweeping one of the eggs off the table.
"Wha' the bloody hell?" Spike picked up the ornately decorated egg. "Xandy?"
Xander shivered. "Don't call me that, Fang Face."
"Don't call me 'Fang Face' and I won't call you that, Xandy," Spike retorted.
"It's Easter," Xander snatched the pink and blue egg off his nightstand. "My
mom has this thing for Easter."
"I can see tha'," Spike yawned, stretching and falling backwards, losing his
balance. "I'm gonna go take a shower."
"You do that. I can smell you all the way over here, Fang Face," Xander
said.
"Can smell you too, Xandy, don't even have to concentrate," Spike tramped
into the bathroom, carefully avoiding scattered Easter eggs. "Bloody hell..."
***
Buffy woke up Sunday morning to her stereo playing a CD she had put in the
night before. She rarely listened to the CD anymore, but the song she'd put
on repeat really fit her feelings as she trudged over to her mirror to see just
how bad she looked.
---
Oh mirror lie to me
Show me what I want to see
Oh mirror lie to me
Why don't I like the girl I see?
The one who's standing right in front of me
Why don't I think before I speak?
I should have listened to that voice inside me
I must be stupid, must be crazy, must be out of my mind
To say the kind of things I said that night
---
Buffy's hair was mussed from sleeping and bags circled under her eyes. She
missed Spike in her bed, lying next to her. She had asked Willow to sleep in
the bed with her Friday. (Not in an intimate way.) She couldn't sleep without
someone on the other side of the bed now.
Her heart hurt. It hurt so bad.
---
Mirror mirror hanging on the wall
You don't have to tell me who's the biggest fool of all
Mirror mirror I wish you could lie to me
And bring my baby back, bring my baby back to me
Why did I let you walk away?
When all I had to do was say I'm sorry
I let my pride get in the way
And in the heat of the moment I was to blame
I must be stupid, must be crazy, must be out of my mind
And now in the cold light of the day I realize
---
Before she knew it, sobs were wracking her body, shaking her shoulders. Tears
trailed down her face as she folded her arms on her dresser and let her pain
consume her.
---
Mirror mirror hanging on the wall
You don't have to tell me who's the biggest fool of all
Mirror mirror I wish you could lie to me
And bring my baby back, bring my baby back to me
If only wishes could be dreams
And all my dreams could come true
There would be two of us standing here in front of you
If you could show me that someone that I used to be
Bring back my baby, my baby to me
---
"Buffy?" Joyce knocked on her door. She could hear muffled sobs over the
soft music playing in the background that had been playing all night. "Buffy,
are you okay?"
"I...I'm fine," she said decidedly, hiccoughing. "Fine," she whispered to the
mirror. It showed her what she didn't want to see: herself. "Traitor." She
walked over and opened the door. "Are we going anywhere today? Can we
go to the picnic we go to every year?"
"Of course," Joyce nodded. "Anything you want."
"Thanks," Buffy hugged Joyce. "I love you, Mom."
"Love you too..." Joyce said the empty hallway as Buffy breezed down the
stairs.
***
The Fourteenth Annual Sunnydale High School Easter Picnic Function, funded
by the wealthy Fitzpatrick family for fourteen years, was something Buffy had
always attended since the Second Annual Sunnydale High School Easter Picnic
Function. They were lots of activities there, and you didn't have to dress up
or anything. It was more of a publicity look-at-me-look-at-me! commercial
affair than anything, but it still gave everyone something to do on their first
weekend off for spring break.
Willow corraled Oz, Buffy, Joyce, and Cordelia all into one area. They were
still awaiting the arrival of Xander, if he was even going to show this year.
Everyone knew the peroxide-blond Billy Idol lookalike was staying with Mr.
Popular, so no one was exactly sure that Xander would manage to get out of
the basement in one piece with Spike. Spike had come to the past Picnics,
but no one knew if Spike was going to show, especially with the problems he
and Buffy were having.
Cordelia had attempted to contact Xander, but had failed. Apparently someone
was on the phone or online at Xander's house, because she kept getting the
busy signal.
"Hey gang," said a cheery female voice from behind them. "Mind if I park here?
Don't want to hang with the 'rents."
Willow craned her neck to see over Oz's head. She had been leaning against
him. "Oh! Faith. Sure, sit. We don't mind."
"Hey B, Willow, dude I dunno with the cool hair, chica I don't know, Mrs. S,"
Faith sat down next to Buffy.
"Faith, this is Oz, my boyfriend. And that's Cordelia, Xander's girlfriend," Willow
told her. "Oz, Cordy, this is Faith...uh...Faith..."
"Fitzpatrick," Faith mumbled.
Cordelia's eyes bugged out. "Whoa. Fitzpatrick as in the rich people who are
funding this?"
"That's them," Faith nodded. "I hate it though. Spend as much time away from
the moneybags stuff as I can. I like getting down and dirty."
Willow and Oz laughed. Buffy had tuned out the entire conversation, continually
scanning the crowds for her platinum haired fiancée. She had even put on their
rings this morning. His ring was too big for her thumb even, so she had put it in
her dress pocket, hoping he'd show up.
"Shut up and move, Fang Face."
"Xandyyyyyyyyy...lemme go!"
"You're acting like a little kid, and you're *older* than me. How sad is that?"
"Shaddup, Xandy."
"Can it, Fang Face. We're almost there."
"Xandy!"
"Fang Face, shut UP."
Suddenly Spike was in Buffy's lap. Buffy looked down at him. "Fang Face?"
Spike rolled off of Buffy's lap and shoved Xander. "Ge' lost, Xandy."
"I brought you here," Xander said exasperatedly.
Spike rolled his eyes and plopped back down in front of Buffy. Then he proceeded
to kiss her to make up for all the kisses he missed out on since Monday.
Thank you to the following people: Isabelle, Belladonna, veggie'slilangel,
Kelley, and Josie. Anybody else...sorry I missed you. You musta commented
after I posted!
When you get to it, "snarfle" is used without permission from Mae, my cohort.
"Mirror, Mirror" belongs to M2M.
~*~ 2/Never Failed ~*~
The dark-haired girl stooped down flat on the grass. She'd finally found
the black DeSoto, and had been drawn like a moth to the yellow light
drifting from the small rectangular window allowing her access to watching
the room it harbored. The blond man was watching MTV.
She snorted. "What a loser," she muttered.
Then she noticed that the car was unattended.
Ka-ching.
She jumped up and edged over to the car. The moment she managed to
jimmy open the lock, a loud car alarm went off. And she looked down,
figuring out that the DeSoto had an alarm rigged on it. Somehow. 'Little
turd,' she thought.
She turned around and ran into the blond guy. "H-hi," she said, blinking at
him.
"Hi luv," he smirked. She backed up against the car as he propped his arms
on it. "Wha' do you think you were tryin' to do?"
"Uh...nothing," she wished she could make herself smaller.
"Looked like a whole lotta somethin' goin' on for nothin'," he retorted. "Why
don't you just fess up? I won' turn you in, Scout's Honor."
She didn't trust him and narrowed her dark eyes at her, her already pale
skin pallid in the sickly yellow streetlight. "Why should I trust *you*?"
"Because I used t' be like you, pet," he replied. "Name's Spike."
"Faith," she said guardedly.
"Why would you wanna steal a P.O.S. like my DeSoto, pet?" he asked her,
looking at her curiously.
She looked at his eyebrow. "A scar."
"Wha'?" Spike frowned at her. "'A scar' is why?"
"No. You have a scar," she repeated. "Right there," she traced it with a
calloused finger. "Didn't know my nails were that sharp."
Recognition flickered in Spike's ice blue eyes. "You! You're the bint who tried
to steal my car the other day! Bloody hell..."
Faith laughed. As soon as Spike lifted his arm, Faith took off. "Bye!"
Spike frowned, scratching his head in puzzlement. "Bloody hell..."
***
"Has he even come by the house yet, Buffy?" Willow asked, sitting on her friend's
bed, eating popcorn with her.
"No," Buffy replied sullenly. "He hasn't even come by the house! I wonder if I hit
him too hard..."
"You hit him?" Willow's eyes bugged and her hand froze with two pieces of popcorn
in it.
"Well not with my fists or anything," Buffy looked at Willow. "He forgot his boots so
I threw them out the window at him. Hit him in the head," then she began to giggle,
"and on his cute little ass."
Willow laughed. "He musta yelled 'bloody hell!'" she guessed, mimicking his Cockney
accent terribly.
"I think he did," Buffy laughed a little. "But...Wills...it's been four days since I even
talked to him..."
It was Friday night, the same night Spike met Faith. Willow was spending the night
at the distraught bride-to-be's house, because Buffy had looked seriously depressed
that morning.
The phone rang.
"Maybe that's him," Willow suggested hopefully.
"I doubt it," Buffy sighed heavily, picking up the phone. "Hello."
:Hello, Buffy.:
The voice was distorted, almost computerized. The monotonous tone made it
impossible to decipher the speaker's sex.
"Who's this?" she frowned.
:You-know-who.:
The hair on the back of Buffy's neck prickled. "What do you want?"
:You never should've pulled that stunt in January. Shame on you. Didn't your
mother teach you never to do that?:
Buffy pushed the "talk" button quickly and then pressed it again, turning the phone
back on and setting it on the nightstand.
"Who was that?" Willow asked, studying her friend.
"Him. He's back," Buffy looked fearfully at her best friend. "He's pissed off too."
***
After Spike went back into Xander's basement after the run-in with Faith, he decided
to swallow his pride and his ego and call Buffy, just to see how she was doing. When
he called, he got the busy signal, so he frowned and waited a few minutes before
dialing again. Once more, he got the busy signal. Who could Buffy be on the phone
with? He tried repeating this pattern for at least a half-hour, and each time he got
the busy signal. Who the hell was she on the phone with?
So Spike did the next best thing--he grabbed his duster off the peg by the door and
stomped out the door.
"Spike?" Xander called from upstairs. He heard the DeSoto engine roar to life. He
opened the front door, clad in a white tanktop and a pair of boxer shorts. "Spike!"
Spike stuck his head out the window, half-lit cigarette dangling from his mouth,
"What?"
"Where are you going?" Xander asked.
"To see my bride-to-be!"
And as the DeSoto rolled down the road, Xander sighed and said, "Thank God."
***
Spike made it halfway to Revello Drive before turning around and driving back to
Xander's house. He missed Buffy something terrible, but he wasn't prepared to
see her yet. If he could still talk himself into losing his temper over what happened,
he wasn't ready to see her yet. Speak to her, sure, but talk face-to-face, not
yet.
So he parked his DeSoto in the Harris's driveway and let himself into the basement
Xander called home. "Couldn't do it."
"What?" Xander frowned. "Come on, you were so close! So revved to go!"
"Gee Xandy, if I didn't know better I'd think you didn't like me staying here," Spike
said sarcastically.
"Do me a favor and don't ever, ever call me 'Xandy' again. As it is I'm going to
have nightmares," Xander flipped through the channels and chugged down a
Coca-Cola (tm). "Ah. Dracula."
"Turn that off," Spike scoffed. "Tha's cheesy vampire lore and only half of it's
true."
"And you would know this how, Fang Boy?" Xander teased mockingly.
"Oh, you're a riot," Spike retorted, then hung his duster on its peg and changed
into a pair of sweats and an Grateful Dead T-shirt.
The phone rang and Spike snatched it up. "Harris-Walthrop residence." He
paused, shooting a knowing look at Xander, "I'm afraid Mr. Harris is detained at
the moment...oooh yeah, c'mon Xandy..." Spike said, getting Xander back for
the "Fang Boy" remark.
Xander snatched the phone away from Spike, socking his arm. "Hey. Sorry
about that. My idiot roommate thinks he's a laugh a minute."
"I am, Cordy," he said loud enough for Cordelia to hear.
Xander shot a look at Spike. "She says to keep your paws off me, I'm hers,
not yours."
"Hardee har har," Spike replied, changing the channel from Dracula to Bring
It On. "This is my kinda movie."
***
Faith flipped herself over a wall and into someone's backyard, proceeding to
flip herself into the next backyard and the one after that. Someone shined a
flashlight on her and shouted at her to stop.
She froze for some reason and looked up. A blond girl had her head poked out
of the window, a redheaded girl next to her. "What'cha doin' down there?"
"Just passing through. Sorry," Faith called back.
"Hey, don't you go to our school?" the redhead asked.
Faith just stared at them, then tilted her head to the side. "Buffy? Willow?"
"Faith!" the two exclaimed.
Buffy clicked off the flashlight, "Stay there, we'll be right down!"
Buffy and Willow had been acquainted with Faith since their freshmen year,
but didn't have any classes with her their sophomore or junior years. Their
memories of her had gotten a little fuzzy, but they could still place her with
her name. Buffy was the first one down, but by the time she reached her
backyard, Faith was gone.
"Where'd she go?" Buffy asked, turning to Wiillow and getting bowled over.
"Ow! Wills!"
"Sorry, brakes don't work," Willow rolled off of Buffy and the sprinklers chose
that moment to turn on.
Two female shrieks pierced the night air.
And Faith snickered on the other side of the street.
***
Easter Sunday morning found Spike sprawled on the floor, one arm on the arm of
the couch and the opposite leg propped up on the coffee table and him snoring
obnoxiously in nothing but his boxers.
Xander jerked awake after hearing one of Spike's particularly loud snores and
rolled over, looking at Spike. "Jeez," he muttered. He threw his comforter at
Spike. "Wake up, Fangy."
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at his alarm clock...
...to find a large pink and pastel blue egg sitting right in front of the red digital
numbers.
Xander groaned.
His mother thought he was still four years old, and every Easter she set out an
Easter basket for Xander and made him wander through the basement looking
for the the elusive-yet-in-blatant-view dyed eggs.
It. Never. Failed.
Even when Xander was living in Lake Tahoe, his mother insisted on doing the
Easter thing. On the bright side, he always got candy.
"Fang Face," Xander threw a pillow at Spike.
He got a snarfle in response.
Xander threw his other pillow at Spike, and apparently hit him in the nose
because Spike sat up, rubbing the same orifice. "...Ow."
"'Bout time, Fang Face," Xander grumbled. Spike yanked his arm off the couch
and brought his leg down, sweeping one of the eggs off the table.
"Wha' the bloody hell?" Spike picked up the ornately decorated egg. "Xandy?"
Xander shivered. "Don't call me that, Fang Face."
"Don't call me 'Fang Face' and I won't call you that, Xandy," Spike retorted.
"It's Easter," Xander snatched the pink and blue egg off his nightstand. "My
mom has this thing for Easter."
"I can see tha'," Spike yawned, stretching and falling backwards, losing his
balance. "I'm gonna go take a shower."
"You do that. I can smell you all the way over here, Fang Face," Xander
said.
"Can smell you too, Xandy, don't even have to concentrate," Spike tramped
into the bathroom, carefully avoiding scattered Easter eggs. "Bloody hell..."
***
Buffy woke up Sunday morning to her stereo playing a CD she had put in the
night before. She rarely listened to the CD anymore, but the song she'd put
on repeat really fit her feelings as she trudged over to her mirror to see just
how bad she looked.
---
Oh mirror lie to me
Show me what I want to see
Oh mirror lie to me
Why don't I like the girl I see?
The one who's standing right in front of me
Why don't I think before I speak?
I should have listened to that voice inside me
I must be stupid, must be crazy, must be out of my mind
To say the kind of things I said that night
---
Buffy's hair was mussed from sleeping and bags circled under her eyes. She
missed Spike in her bed, lying next to her. She had asked Willow to sleep in
the bed with her Friday. (Not in an intimate way.) She couldn't sleep without
someone on the other side of the bed now.
Her heart hurt. It hurt so bad.
---
Mirror mirror hanging on the wall
You don't have to tell me who's the biggest fool of all
Mirror mirror I wish you could lie to me
And bring my baby back, bring my baby back to me
Why did I let you walk away?
When all I had to do was say I'm sorry
I let my pride get in the way
And in the heat of the moment I was to blame
I must be stupid, must be crazy, must be out of my mind
And now in the cold light of the day I realize
---
Before she knew it, sobs were wracking her body, shaking her shoulders. Tears
trailed down her face as she folded her arms on her dresser and let her pain
consume her.
---
Mirror mirror hanging on the wall
You don't have to tell me who's the biggest fool of all
Mirror mirror I wish you could lie to me
And bring my baby back, bring my baby back to me
If only wishes could be dreams
And all my dreams could come true
There would be two of us standing here in front of you
If you could show me that someone that I used to be
Bring back my baby, my baby to me
---
"Buffy?" Joyce knocked on her door. She could hear muffled sobs over the
soft music playing in the background that had been playing all night. "Buffy,
are you okay?"
"I...I'm fine," she said decidedly, hiccoughing. "Fine," she whispered to the
mirror. It showed her what she didn't want to see: herself. "Traitor." She
walked over and opened the door. "Are we going anywhere today? Can we
go to the picnic we go to every year?"
"Of course," Joyce nodded. "Anything you want."
"Thanks," Buffy hugged Joyce. "I love you, Mom."
"Love you too..." Joyce said the empty hallway as Buffy breezed down the
stairs.
***
The Fourteenth Annual Sunnydale High School Easter Picnic Function, funded
by the wealthy Fitzpatrick family for fourteen years, was something Buffy had
always attended since the Second Annual Sunnydale High School Easter Picnic
Function. They were lots of activities there, and you didn't have to dress up
or anything. It was more of a publicity look-at-me-look-at-me! commercial
affair than anything, but it still gave everyone something to do on their first
weekend off for spring break.
Willow corraled Oz, Buffy, Joyce, and Cordelia all into one area. They were
still awaiting the arrival of Xander, if he was even going to show this year.
Everyone knew the peroxide-blond Billy Idol lookalike was staying with Mr.
Popular, so no one was exactly sure that Xander would manage to get out of
the basement in one piece with Spike. Spike had come to the past Picnics,
but no one knew if Spike was going to show, especially with the problems he
and Buffy were having.
Cordelia had attempted to contact Xander, but had failed. Apparently someone
was on the phone or online at Xander's house, because she kept getting the
busy signal.
"Hey gang," said a cheery female voice from behind them. "Mind if I park here?
Don't want to hang with the 'rents."
Willow craned her neck to see over Oz's head. She had been leaning against
him. "Oh! Faith. Sure, sit. We don't mind."
"Hey B, Willow, dude I dunno with the cool hair, chica I don't know, Mrs. S,"
Faith sat down next to Buffy.
"Faith, this is Oz, my boyfriend. And that's Cordelia, Xander's girlfriend," Willow
told her. "Oz, Cordy, this is Faith...uh...Faith..."
"Fitzpatrick," Faith mumbled.
Cordelia's eyes bugged out. "Whoa. Fitzpatrick as in the rich people who are
funding this?"
"That's them," Faith nodded. "I hate it though. Spend as much time away from
the moneybags stuff as I can. I like getting down and dirty."
Willow and Oz laughed. Buffy had tuned out the entire conversation, continually
scanning the crowds for her platinum haired fiancée. She had even put on their
rings this morning. His ring was too big for her thumb even, so she had put it in
her dress pocket, hoping he'd show up.
"Shut up and move, Fang Face."
"Xandyyyyyyyyy...lemme go!"
"You're acting like a little kid, and you're *older* than me. How sad is that?"
"Shaddup, Xandy."
"Can it, Fang Face. We're almost there."
"Xandy!"
"Fang Face, shut UP."
Suddenly Spike was in Buffy's lap. Buffy looked down at him. "Fang Face?"
Spike rolled off of Buffy's lap and shoved Xander. "Ge' lost, Xandy."
"I brought you here," Xander said exasperatedly.
Spike rolled his eyes and plopped back down in front of Buffy. Then he proceeded
to kiss her to make up for all the kisses he missed out on since Monday.