A/N: Okay, I really REALLY suck. I know it's been forever since I updated, for a combination of personal reasons, but I'm still profusely sorry, and I'm giving you three chapters at once to try and make up for it. I'm done of school for the summer and only working part time right now, so I should update more regularly, though I'm not making any promises, lest I break them. Hope I haven't lost all my readers. Enjoy...



Chapter Four: The Not-So-Usual



Spike pulled into the Coffee Shack, stopped the De Soto and just sat in the parking lot for a few minutes. He'd been thinking about that night since yesterday afternoon, and his larger than usual drinking binge hadn't done much to help him forget. He wanted to go in and get coffee, but realized that if he walked into that shop and saw Buffy with the images of their night together still in his head, he'd probably give her quite an eyeful. He started the car back up and pulled back out into the street, turning left towards the grocery store.



'Best go someplace first that *doesn't* have the object of my sexual fantasies workin' behind the counter.'



Forty minutes and 5 or 6 bags of groceries later, a considerably less worked up Spike (avacados just didn't do it for him) exited the grocery store and stashed the food in the backseat. His hangover was pretty much history, but he was still tired from lack of sleep, so he headed back towards the Coffee Shack.



Buffy was chatting with one of the regulars when he went in. Rupert Giles was a part-time librarian who usually spent the latter part of the day in the Coffee Shack, talking with Buffy and Anya, or playing guitar. Quite the scholar as well as a superb musician, he took pride in fitting classic poetry to his own music, and made enough money doing so to have no worries financially. Currently he was laughing at something Buffy had said, but Spike could see a copy of John Dunne's work poking out from beneath a couple of pages of sheet music. Though in all honesty, he wasn't paying that much attention to the older man. The peroxide blonde paused momentarily and savored just watching Buffy smiling, before consciously shaking himself out of it.



"What are ya thinkin' ya stupid git?" he wondered to himself. "She was a bloody marvelous shag, yeah, but that's it. No reason to go all sentimental-like just cause her eyes go all sparkly when she smiles."



"Oi now!" he said aloud, "You gonna stop flirtin' with the senior citizen and get me a cuppa, or what?"



The statement did little other than earn him a look of irritation from both Buffy and the man she was talking with.



"I'm hardly a senior citizen," Giles frowned out. "And there's certainly no cause to be rude to Buffy."



Spike scoffed. "Yeah, sure, Rupes. You're young enough to be carded."



"Just because..." Giles started, but Buffy cut the argument short with a sharp "What can I get for you?"



Spike turned to her, ready to shoot off some horribly complicated beverage order, but then he saw the furious look on Buffy's face, and he could hardly breathe, much less talk. He swallowed. "Cor she's beautiful when she's angry!" he thought. A beat passed, and Buffy raised her eyebrows in question, her arms crossed over her chest in a manner that just screamed 'Well???'



Spike swallowed once more. "Uh, the usual!" he managed finally. Buffy cocked her head to the side and waited. When he did nothing other than continue his deer in the headlights stare, she prompted "And that would be…?"



"Oh, right. I, uh"



'God, why is she so sexy?'



"I don't have a… a usual. So I'll just… uh…"



Spike felt his body begin to respond to the image running through his head. In his mind, Buffy was naked, lying underneath him, looking up at him with lust filled eyes…



"Go! Yeah, I'll go." Seeing Buffy's and Gile's looks, he continued, "I, uh, forgot… something, and…well, I… uh, bye then!"



He turned and fled. Buffy looked after him for a moment, then shook her head and turned back to Giles and their abandoned conversation.



******************



Spike slammed the fridge door so hard that it bounced back open again. He picked up a runaway head of lettuce and threw it back inside, then slammed the door again, holding it to make sure it stayed shut this time.



"Stupid bitch, that's all she is!" he spit out. Mimicking, mocking- "And that would be?" He returned to his rant, speaking directly to the absent Buffy this time: "Infuriating chit, you are!"



"You better not be talking about me," came a voice from behind him, pleasantly.



Spike turned in shock, then went back to scowling. He pointed at his bemused roommate "you're not supposed to be home."



Tara half smiled. "Wednesday, remember? Just class, no TAing. And don't change the subject. Who's the 'infuriating chit,'" she asked in a bad imitation of Spike's accent.



Spike's scowl, if it was possible, deepened. "Who do ya think? Stupid bitch. She's the one who chose to go into customer service. She could at least pretend to like me."



Tara's eyebrows raised slightly. "Right. Cause, you know, you don't do anything to e-egg her on."



Spike crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture. "Wha? I don't know what your talkin' bout."



Tara laughed quietly. "Spike the only time I went to the Coffee Shack with you, you ordered a half soy half whole milk extra large latte with cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla on top, and the foam on the side in an extra cup."



"So?"



Tara only response was to huff out her breath in amusement. "There are two other coffee bars in Sunnydale," she pointed out. "Both of which have perfectly pleasant sales people."



Spike fishmouthed for nearly a full minute. "Coffee Shack has the best latte," he finally retaliated, then, to the sound of Tara's gentle laughter, stormed off to his room.