"The Polychromatic Adventures of Buffy Summers," by Liz (AKA Willow)
See previous part for general comments/disclaimer.
Author's Notes: Okay, yeah, I admit I acted a little evilly in the last chapter. I just wanted to know what it is like to feel like Joss. And I'll tell you this: It's of the crap. And (quoting Loftyheights): It's of the uber-suck. It really is. How can he enjoy our torture so much?
Stick with me for a few, okay? It'll get funny, but angsty? Only if I'm up to it.
Chapter One: She thought she was going down the right road, but...yeah - she wasn't.
Tennis was definitely not her sport.
Upon practicing for a few minutes before the game, playing against Riley...she managed to...oh God, how could she put this lightly? Okay...she'd just admit it. She -- she managed to --
She managed to hit the tennis ball directly into Riley's groin.
There. She admitted it. Happy now? I'm sure you are.
It wasn't a pretty sight either.
What if she injured...it...really badly? Although she wasn't of the Serena Williams-type, Willow and Xander used to assure her that she did have one mean backhand. The impact must have been shattering.
She almost cried at the look on his face, his eyes squinting, his mouth making an O-type shape. She dropped her racket and quickly ran over to him.
He doubled over in pain and collapsed onto his knees. The pain in his lower...parts, was burning him so badly. He clutched himself as the throbbing continued mercilessly.
"Riley, Riley...are you okay? I didn't mean to hit...it. Or any other body part, for that matter, cause that'd still be REALLY bad. Does it hurt? Of course it hurts. Maybe I can get you ice, ice to put on your...it. Where can I get the ice? Does any one have any--"
His groaning cut her off. "Buuuffy...Need. Ice. Badly."
If she DID get some ice, she could help him apply pressure to his...it...!
And she ran, in hot pursuit of a freezer...
Hee. Hot pursuit of a freezer.
And by God, if she were running a marathon against Marion Jones she would have won.
"And you went to look for a freezer?" Willow asked dubiously, not believing her best friend. "You just left him there?"
"Well, what was I supposed to do, Will? Cry for help? 'Help me Mister Janitor Sir, my hottie crush just got hit in his nether regions by a tennis ball?' What should have been done?" she asked rhetorically into the small cell phone she clutched in her hand. She walked through the main doors of the Sunnydale Country Club and trotted down the spiral staircase, leading down to a road where her small, white Mercedes Benz was parked.
"Y-you should have told him to walk it off! He could have taken it. He's a man!" 'But, not in the manly-sense,' Willow added to herself.
"Okay, the next time I hit Riley in his 'It' with a tennis ball, I'll tell him to walk it off. Right," she said while unlocking her car and sitting in the black leather seat. "Will, I got to go. Need some coffee. After that drastic experience, about forty percent of my brain cells are still in shock. Tennis ball bad. Coffee yummy. See? I'm not usually this non-talkative," she said, a small smile on her face.
"Well get thee to the nearest café."
"Okay, Will. Talk to you soon." She hung up the phone, hastily put on her seatbelt and started her car.
She drove to the nearest café, ordered a...well, she wasn't exactly sure what she ordered. All those coffees had those fancy names. Mocha, frap, crap, chino and the like, some with marshmallows and some with cream, blah blah blah. Well anyway, she ordered a cup of Joe and contemplated her embarrassing situation:
One: She only got to spend a total of ten minutes with her supposed "soul mate." How are you supposed to get to know your soul mate in a ten-minute time span? That's absolutely impossible.
Two: She didn't get to hear him talk about how much he missed her.
Three: She might have permanently damaged "It."
Four: Riley was just...just totally ignoring her. Well, not really. If you're sent to the hospital in an ambulance, the "ignoring" part is kind of inevitable, she guessed.
Where had her life gone so wrong?
In her seventeen years on this earth, Buffy had been taught to follow the rules and to keep high morals. While living off her mother's well earned wealth, her mother had been strict with her, making sure Buffy hadn't ended up being another spoiled, juvenile delinquent. So far, her mother's stern discipline had worked perfectly. As a result of Buffy abiding by the rules her mother demanded her to follow, Buffy in turn was showered with love, friendship, and a sense of freedom.
But if life was supposed to be peachy-keen because of following the rules, then why didn't she feel the peachy-keen-ness? Why did she feel like she was living the life of crap?
Contemplating that thought, she took a sip of her Joe and swished the liquid through her teeth. Life sucks. Life is of the crap. Whatever life was, she'd still always have her coffee. And nothing could change that. Cause coffee will never abandon you, no matter how many embarrassing things you do.
She looked down at her mug.
She finished all of it. Not one molecule of coffee was left.
She knew she couldn't trust those damned molecules. Spineless, heartless, selfish bastards.
She cracked the door open a bit and slowly poked her head into the room. "R-Riley?" she whispered lamely.
Groan. Cough.
(Snicker.)
He had a nightgown on! It had polka dots on it, and as far as she was concerned he looked "absolutely darling." He was as cute as a button. Except for the whole part where there was a big bandaged bulge underneath the nightgown. It was a big bandage -- the problem was that Riley's "It" was not big at all. She was completely awed with the probability that a tennis ball of that size could come into contact with such a puny little nothing. Eeeew, enough perverted thoughts, visuals...just...too...much. She put her hand up to her head. Ah. Okay, better now.
"Hi Riley," she whispered softly, slowly inching towards the hospital bed. He gave a tight smile, and she was sure he pretty much looked as if he was holding back a holler of agony. "I, uh...I brought Mr. Gordo here," she took her hand out from behind her back and placed the small pig on his shoulder. "He's here to keep you company. You remember Mr. Gordo, right?"
He chuckled. "Yeah. Mr. Gordo was our Superman. He was cool."
She smiled. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry that this happened. The doctors say I shouldn't be around any type of metal sports equipment, so for your sake and mine, I decided to go cold turkey with the tennis gig. A-and ice-skating? Not my thing anymore."
"Good idea," he said with a groan that pretty much freaked the hell out of her.
"Is there anything I can do for you; uh, like fluff your pillows or...! Juice! Do you like juice? Do you know where the cups are?"
"Juice is good. I have a cup already." He reached over to the lame excuse for a night table and snatched the cup, holding out the cheap plastic for Buffy to pour OJ into.
She wasn't usually so non-coordinated. She was usually okay when holding cups and glasses, and sometimes her goldfish tank (which, unfortunately, was out of use since Mr. Goldy died after he miraculously jumped out of the tank and accidentally ended up in the garbage disposal). But today was just not her day. She happened to spill a good portion of the OJ right onto Riley's lap. All of it. She had a hard time getting a hold of the damned carton of OJ.
He nearly sobbed.
"Oh, oops, I'll get that." Embarrassed and yet highly amused, she grabbed a few napkins and looked down at the mess she made. "Uh...actually, I'll let the nurse handle it. I got to go for now, Riley. Y'know, have to catch up on that history studying and chem' homework Will is hell bent on making me do. So bye!" She made a move to high-tail the hell out of there.
"Buffy – wai..."
She quickly exited the small cubicle and told the nurse that Riley was in need of a little assistance.
The nurse, ticked that she had to be rudely interrupted while doing her daily crossword puzzle, entered the hospital room deciding that she'd get this over with as soon as she possibly could. Will Shortz and his loony crossword clues were anxiously awaiting her return. She looked down at the yellow liquid that was splayed across the lap of Riley Finn. She looked up at him disapprovingly, a scowl branded on her usually soft face. "Oh, not again...I thought I told you to use that metal pan, Finn! Look at this mess!"
Riley just couldn't stop sobbing.
TBC...
I need suggestions, people! And comments! Feedback would be great.
And to thank my previous, incredible reviewers (Love you ALL):
Miatwist - GAH! Don't worry about it. I fooled a lot of people and a lot of them weren't as understanding as you were. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I will continue; this is my vow to you. Shakes fist in the air - I WILL continue. Hee. Thank you for the feedback!
Lindsay - Puts hands up in defense I promise there will be B/A - cause I'm a die-hard B/A 'shipper. And anything less is just so incredibly WRONG. :P Power to the B/A 'shippers! Woohoo! Thank you for the feedback. It was appreciate muchly. (Gawd, I love that non-existent word.)
AngelSummersForever - :O! I know! That was so incredibly MEAN of me. I think I might be the meanest person in the world right now. First, Buffy thinking Riley's her soulmate, and now THIS:P And I think you'll be disappointed when you hear that Angel won't be making much of an appearance in the next chapter (when I introduce him). But don't fret! B/A fluffiness will be here soon! And I can never do anything bad to My Angel. Thanks for the feedback!