Summary: Buffy, a wild night out and a hangover – 'Nough said.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own everything. But I wouldn't mind leasing Spike from them for a couple of weeks :)
Feedback: As always, appreciated.
InterludeBuffy woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. Her stomach was doing flip-flops and her eyes refused to focus. Even pulling the covers over her head to block out the morning light was a chore. She moaned to the empty room. Maybe going to the Bronze with Anne hadn't been the best of ideas. God, that girl could drink! And Buffy had been in such a bad mood; she had tried to keep up with her. Mistake number two. Buffy could hear Anne's voice echoing in her head. "It's all mind over matter, Buff. If you think you're not drunk, then you're not." Yeah. Like THAT worked. Buffy had been so trashed; she couldn't remember how they got home last night. And she didn't want to think about it now. Thinking hurt. No, she'd just lie in her bed and die quietly.
At least she would have if Anne hadn't come trampling in right that minute. There are elephants in my room, Buffy thought. "Wake-up, sleepy head. We have a busy schedule." Anne flopped down on the edge of Buffy's comforter making the bed shake. Buffy's moan was louder this time. That had to have been an earthquake, she thought. When Buffy didn't move, Anne slowly pulled the edge of the covers back from Buffy's face. "You alive in there, Slayer?"
Buffy tentatively opened her left eye. Anne smiled brightly back at her. Bitch. "Go away. Far, far away." Buffy pulled the cover back over her head. Couldn't they just leave her alone to die?
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Anne unceremoniously yanked the covers from Buffy's hands. "It's just a lousy hangover, not the end of the world." She managed to strip the comforter and the sheet completely off the bed before Buffy could react.
Buffy groaned. The light was too bright. With her eyes still closed, she groped for a pillow then smashed it to her face. Beautiful darkness once again. Her voice was muffled as she spoke. "End of the world I can handle. Cheerful, not-hungover twins are another story."
Anne sat back down on the bed, shaking her head. "I think I'll put up a sign in Willy's place. I see pink neon against a black background. 'Alcohol – the only way to kill a Slayer.' What do you think?"
Buffy carefully lifted the edge of the pillow, making sure the light of day didn't penetrate too far into her blissful dark world. "Not all Slayers, obviously. Just me. YOU seem to be perfectly fine."
Anne bounced on the bed a few times, sadistically finding pleasure in Buffy's continued groans. "Don't whine. It's not attractive. I'm older than you and can hold my liquor better." After a few minutes, when it become apparent Buffy wasn't going to give up the corpse routine, Anne decided to take pity on her twin. She moved off the bed and to the window, swiping the comforter off the floor as she went. Once the comforter was hung over the window, effectively blocking out the light, she turned back to Buffy. "Okay, little girl. The big, bad lights gone now. You can come out of hiding."
Again, Buffy peaked out from under her protective pillow. "Oh, darkness. How I love thee." Buffy moved the pillow down to her chest. "But I'm still not moving. It's too painful."
Anne sat back down at the corner of the bed. "Wait a minute there, sis. We have plans to make, demons to kill and a living room to clean up. You don't get a free pass today just because you tried to drown yourself in liquor last night. Can't pay the time, shouldn't do the crime."
As Anne's words slowly started to penetrate her brain, Buffy's eyes flew open. "What's wrong with the living room?"
The smile that spread across Anne's face was wicked. "You don't remember? Of course you don't remember. Just an FYI, never, never drink anything called a Vulcan Mind Probe, and definitely never drink three of them after having, oh, I don't know, a quart of tequila." Buffy cringed. "Yeah, I said a quart. And what's wrong with the living room? Well, once I dragged you off the table you were dancing on, away from the boy you were dancing for, and out of the Bronze, you decided to get a little violent when we got home. Kept telling me nobody could tell you what to do. You were in charge of your own life. You'd sleep with who ever you wanted to sleep with. You woke up the whole damn house. And the only reason your in bed is because you finally passed out and we were able to carry you upstairs."
Buffy was awake now. Anne thought the look on her face was priceless. "I woke up the entire house? Oh God, I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"
"Well, Giles tried to get between us and you laid one on him. Purely by accident. You were aiming for me. He has a nice shiner this morning. Dawn wasn't stupid; she hid out on the stairs until the war was over. I don't think she'll be getting drunk anytime soon. And Elizabeth, well she fought back." Just then, the door to Buffy's room opened. Anne looked over her shoulder. "Speak of the devil."
Elizabeth did her best to quietly shut the door behind her. She had much more sympathy for Buffy's condition than Anne. She knew she shouldn't have let the two of them go the Bronze by themselves. They were an accident waiting to happen. She gingerly walked to Buffy's bedside. "How's the patient this morning?"
Anne rolled her eyes. "She'll live. I was just filling her in on her adventures last night. She doesn't seem to remember much of anything." Anne turned back to look at Buffy. "What IS the last thing you remember?"
By this time Buffy was propped up against the headboard and totally mortified by her behavior. "The last thing… I was playing pool with some guy… David? No. Dan? Don?"
Again, Anne smiled wickedly. "No, the guy you played pool with was named Arthur. You threw darts with Dan. Christ, Slayer, you can't even remember their names?"
Buffy bit her bottom lip. God, this was frustrating. "I was playing pool with Arthur, and then I, uh, I…" She dropped her head into her hands. "I don't have a clue what I did after that."
Elizabeth tried to cover her laughter with coughing. "Arthur and Dan. Okay. But you were talking about Leo when you got home. Yes, I distinctly remember you telling Anne you'd sleep with Leo if you wanted to, and it was none of her business." Elizabeth's smile was sweet. "You do remember Leo, right?"
"Leo?" Buffy's voice cracked. "Oh come on! You two are making this up." She looked at the girls who were shaking their heads in unison. "You HAVE to be making this up!"
Anne patted Buffy's thigh. "Wish we were. Would you like to hear about what you did last night?" Buffy weakly nodded. "After finishing your pool game with Arthur, and finishing a few more drinks, you dumped him to throw darts with Dan. Arthur was crushed. But like you told him, you really didn't have a choice – Dan had the better butt. You had to go with him. Darts were thrown, and some of them actually hit the board. More drinks were consumed, and then you lost interest in Dan too. I think the exact words you used were, 'nice ass, but too much nancy-boy attitude'. But it was okay, because at the bar you found Leo." Anne voice dripped with sarcasm. "It was a whirl wind romance. He asked your name. You spilled a drink on him. He bought you another. You were hooked. He was perfect! I know, because you wouldn't shut up about it all the way home. But, I digress. Leo, yes Leo. The best man in all of Sunnydale. But like all tragic heroes, Leo had one flaw – he couldn't dance. So you decided to get on a tabletop and dance for him. That's when I decided it was time we went home."
Funny little noises escaped from Buffy's throat as she tried to form a complete sentence. "I… we… I…" She just couldn't get the words to come out.
Anne continued. "Leo followed us out of the Bronze. He tried to make a scene. Tried to grab your arm and drag you back inside. Finally, I punched him. Knocked him out cold in one. You didn't seem to care. Hell, you didn't seem to notice. The walk home was fairly quite except for you yakking in my ear. No one was going to tell you what to do anymore. If you wanted to hop to parallel dimensions, you'd hop to parallel dimensions. You were a free woman. You could date whoever you wanted. You could sleep with whoever you wanted. And tonight, that was going to be Leo. But for whatever reason it took you until we walked into the house to realize we had left him back at the Bronze. And that's when you started arguing with me. Because I was the one who took you away from perfect Leo. And the living room, is trash."
Buffy's face was a myriad of color; green from the hangover, beet red from embarrassment, stark white from shock. She couldn't control it. "I said I was going to sleep with a guy named Leo? A guy I couldn't pick out of a police line-up right now if you paid me?" Buffy's eyes moved between the other two Slayers, waiting for some kind of explanation. Neither said a word. "I couldn't have drunk that much. It just isn't humanly possible. I refuse to believe it. Refuse! The two of you are lying." Buffy threw her legs over the side of the bed. Her hangover just didn't seem to be that important any more. Her first priority was to get away from the two women laugh at her. Her second was to check out the living room. "I'm going downstairs to see the living room for myself. And when I find everything in perfect order, I'm coming back up her to kick both your asses." With that, she marched at of her room.
"There's that perfect word again." Elizabeth punched Anne lightly in the arm for her comment. "Hey, it's not my fault she lost her mind."
Elizabeth glared. "I can't believe you let her get that drunk. You were supposed to be watching her. You knew how upset she was about Spike and you let her –" Elizabeth never finished her sentences. The scream coming from downstairs interrupted her thoughts. "She saw the living room. Let's go."
Anne crossed her arms in front of her. And to think, last night she thought Buffy letting off a little steam was a good idea. "She made the mess; she can clean it up herself. I have no sympathy for her."
Elizabeth grabbed Anne's arm, pulling her up from the bed. "You helped with that mess. You're the one who sent her flying across the room, landing on the coffee table." Elizabeth dragged a reluctant Anne behind her. "And as for the mantle…"
---TBC
