Disclaimer: Needless to say, we do not own any of the characters here except Julia, Amanda, and Nick (who we actually don't own either as they are real people and slavery is all illegal and junk). Starving college students though we are, and in desperate need of fundage-especially next semester when we plan on going to England (Yeah!)-we are making no money whatsoever on this-or anything else for that matter. Please don't sue because all you'll get is a couple of backpacks and a bunch of over-priced and incredibly weighty text books that you can't even sell back for a fraction of their original costs but we're not bitter.

In a romantic little French restaurant, waiters bustle around a dozen circular tables bringing expensive food and even more expensive Champaign to their patrons. The matradee haughtily seats three friends at a table in the corner of the room passing by a young couple chatting amiably. The female half of this pair-a delicately built blond of about nineteen-seemed to be discussing school.

"David," she was saying, "you know my English teacher, said that constructive criticism is the best way of improving your writing and that it's the critiquing party's responsibility to discover everything in the work that's week and point it out in no uncertain terms." She paused long enough to take a bite out of her soufflé and announce for the seventh time that it was "really, really good." "I think that some one picking apart my writing like that would be really helpful, you know? 'Course it might be kind of depressing to find out that my critic thinks my writing sucks but-"

Her companion, a broody sable-haired man of about twenty-six cut her off saying, "Buffy, where do you see our relationship going?"

Taken aback, the girl, Buffy looked at her boyfriend for a moment before answering. "Okay.um.where did that come from?"

"Well, you perceive that we've been dating for two years," he began.

"I perceive?" she inquired with an arched eyebrow.

"I've been reading that Paths of the Dead book you told me about and sometimes I slip into that speech pattern when I'm not thinking."

"Yeah, I did that all the time when I first read it. Drove my mom nuts."

"So," he continued, "we've been dating two years."

"I'm inclined to agree with you as this is our two year anniversary dinner." Buffy gestured to the room around them, the same they had visited for their first anniversary a year prior. Thinking she knew what was coming-Willow had convinced her that despite them saying they'd wait until she was in graduate's school until the were formally engaged, he was going to pop the question-she took another bite of her meal and motioned with her fork that it was his turn to speak again.

"We should have a strong, healthy relationship."

This statement threw Buffy. "After two years together, you don't think we have a strong relationship?" Her voice came out a bit more harshly than she intended, but the conversation was confusing her, and a confused Buffy was a snippish Buffy.

"Not," he answered, no less abrasively than she had, "if you're flirting with other guys."

Now completely confused and more than just snippish, Buffy demanded to know, "Just what guys are you talking about, Angel?"

He offered an indignant sniff to her question. "Well, that Riley kid for one."

"Riley," she said struggling with whether to laugh at or strangle her boyfriend at the suggestion, "I'm not flirting with Riley, when was I flirting with Riley?"

Angel offered her a glare that screamed, "Busted!" "I went to surprise you at school the other day to make you fell better about that civics test you were stressing over, and I saw you with that kid. You were laughing and toughing his big 'I grew up on a farm' farm boy arms."

"Oh my god! You are unbelievable! We were joking around about the lesson. Jealous much?"

He rolled his eyes and continued to glare at her. "I wouldn't be jealous if you weren't going around flirting with other guys, acting too immature to be in a serious relationship."

"Immature," she exclaimed, "I can't believe you're bringing this up again! If you have so many problems with dating some one whose 'immature' perhaps you shouldn't have tried so hard to attract someone seven years younger than you." She said the word "immature" employing the use of finger quotes.

"Ha! So you're saying it's my fault that you're flirting with that little bumpkin?!" he cried. "And what, prey tell, is so mature about your little rabbit gestures?"

"It's a damn sight more mature than your sophomoric name calling!"

By this time, nearly everyone in the restaurant was staring at them, the two girls and boy at the table next to them were whispering amongst themselves behind their hands. "Hey, Amanda," the darker girl said nudging her friend, "Ten bucks says one of those two is going to storm out in a huff before five minutes has expired."

"It'll take at least ten," the other girl predicted. "They've been going out for a long time so the break-up will take longer, don't you agree, Nick?"

"Girl, I think you and Julia are both wrong. Those two won't last more than ten minutes."

While Julia, Nick, and Amanda had their whispered exchange of bets, laying money on the table, the matradee went over to Buffy and Angel's table. "Pleez, zis iz a very expensive restaurant," he whispered in an angry, fake French accent. "Jou and jour boyfriend need to keep it down!"

"Sorry," Buffy whispered, abashed to the enraged Frenchmen, who, she was sure, grew up not two blocks from her. When the pretentious pretender was gone, Buffy turned back to Angel angrily, picking up the conversation where it was interrupted. "I can't believe that you think so little of me. I mean, Riley's nice and all, but do you honestly think I'd consider dating him? He's all poncy."

"Poncy?" Angel asked his face contorted in incredulous confusion.

"Willow's been hanging out with this English guy. I guess the weird Brit- speak is rubbing off."

"RUBBING! WHAT RUBBING!?"

"There was no rubbing; bad Buffy-mouth."

"So," Angel said with false casualty, "flirting with English guys now. Wow. You really get around."

"What? No!" Buffy protested, "I've never met the guy! I don't even remember his name...Spock or Spork or.something like that." she trailed off into her own little Buffy world trying to remember.

Irritated with her absent-minded mumbling, Angel cried, "It doesn't matter what his name is! What matters is my girlfriend is cheating on me!"

For a moment, Buffy is speechless, and Nick is convinced that he has won the bet. "That girl is as good as gone! I can not believe he just said that. But, it does mean he's free. Hello, handsome." Nick smirked at the prospect of such a well-muscled boy-toy.

"Nick, hun," Julia interrupted his preening, "I'm pretty sure that Pretty boy doesn't play for your team. You know, him being with a girl and all. A girl who, by the by, isn't going anywhere for another," she stopped to check the time piece at her waist, "three minutes and thirty-six seconds."

"I think some one's just mad 'cause she lost the bet."

"No, look," the girl replied triumphantly, "Chicky's not going to let that go without saying anything."

And it was true, Buffy, having regained her composure had switched into psycho-Buffy mode. "Cheating! Now I'm cheating on you. First I'm offering it up to some Teutonic momma's boy, and now I'm actually carrying out an affair with some British guy named.uh.named Knife or.dagger or.it was something pointy."

"Oh, so it's pointy now, is it?"

Completely at a loss, Buffy stares at him for a moment as if she had just discovered he had three eyes and an extra arm. "Where is Angel? Where is that sweet angel-faced guy who swept me off my feet?" she puzzled.

"I think he got lost among all the other guys doing the sweeping."

"Ha!" she scoffed, "All of two guys. One being that cheating scumbag, Parker and that was back in junior year and that two minute crush I had on Scott who turned out to be gay. Yep, that about covers it. I can't believe you're stressing over two relationships that were over years ago, an acquaintance, and a not even acquaintance named.aw, hell, it doesn't matter what his name is! What does matter is that my boyfriend of two years doesn't trust me."

"Why should I trust you when every time I turn my back, you're with another guy?"

"Geez, I think I finally know why that Darla chick left you. A girl needs a bit of air if she wants to breathe."

"Yeah? Well, it's been my experience that if you give a woman air, she'll blow you away."

"Wow, this sounds more like an Angel issue than a Buffy issue. You're just a scared little boy."

At this comment, the girls at the next table felt compelled to speak. "Ooh, she told you," Amanda cried in a lame and incredibly loud pseudo- ghetto fabulous tone.

Giving Amanda a "grow up" look and glancing down at her time peace, Julia demanded of Angel, "Are you just going to take that from her?!"

Nick said nothing for the excellent reason that he was absent, having taken a trip to the little boy's room to powder his nose.

Angel glares over at the girls who giggle into their food and go back to eating. After assuring himself that the nosy bimbos have nothing further to add, a red-faced Angel turned back to Buffy. "Are you insinuating-"

"I'm not insinuating, I'm flat-out telling you! You've got issues!"

"I've got issues?" Angel sniffed. "What about you?"

"What about me?" There was warning in her voice and she stood up, managing to tower over Angel despite the fact that even standing she was barely inches taller than he. Had he been paying the kind of attention he should have been or had Julia and Amanda kept their enormous mouths shut, Angel might have caught on to the Buffy's nearing kill-mode signs that she was emitting. Instead, he opened his mouth and placed his foot firmly and irreconcilably in side of it.

"You've got issues!" he asserted. "Little daddy's girl cries whenever Mommy's got a date wit a new man and can't stand any other woman with Papa. Has to control her friends 'cause she can't control her own life."

Buffy's face grew darker and darker as Angel's speech went on. "Is that what you think?" Angel merely offered an indifferent shrug to her demanding tone. "Well, let me tell you what I think."

Angel stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and began walking away. "Don't bother; what you think is never very interesting anyway." And with that, he stormed off, very much in a huff and almost knocking the angry matradee down on his way out of the restaurant.

The restaurant was very silent and still for a second that seemed to stretch on for an eternity until. "Four minutes and twenty-seven seconds! I win." Everyone in the building, who had been previously staring at Buffy- even the cook had his head sticking out of the kitchen to stare-swiveled their heads in unison to look at Julia and Amanda's table.

"You so did not win!" Amanda protested. "It hasn't been five minutes yet!"

"Ah, my exact words were-and if you don't believe me, you can look back to page two-'one of those two is going to storm out in a huff before five minutes has expired.' Five minutes had not expired by the time Pretty-boy walked. I. Win." She offered her friend a face-splitting grin before chanting in a sing-song tone, "I win! I win! Go me! It's my birthday! Do the happy dance! Spike the football!"

Many of the people in the restaurant stared blankly at the brown girl. Buffy, for her part just laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing. "'Spike the football," she chuckled. "Spike?" She paused a moment to consider that last. The whole restaurant jumped about a foot when she exclaimed triumphantly, "It was Spike!"

AN: Fun, ne? Well, just wait for the next chapter. There will be much amusing antics from the Quaking Giraffe, the Gay Boy, and Articulate Moron. We'll leave you to guess which one's who. And, of course, there will be future Spuffy goodness. By the by, there are any number of movie quotes in here. Find them all and we'll give you a cookie! Do review. Please. Pretty please. Con sugar! Y whipping-like cream! And bunches of oats! You know, like the cereal. 'Cause we live in "the fields of Battle Creek." It's funny. Tee hee.