Chapter 2: Got My Mind Set on You:
AN: So yeah, bet you thought we'd died or sompin'. Or maybe you just wished it. Actually, as Occam's Razor states, our inactivity on FanFiction.Net has a much more simple explanation. And that explanation is this: We are lazy and have been putting writing off for less important endeavors—Finals for example; and sleeping, sleeping's good. So for all three of you who care, we've decided to try to be better about posting on a semi-regular basis. We might even manage to post another chapter before 2005 rolls around. I wouldn't count on it, but one can always hope. So enjoy chapter two.
Disclaimer: Like anyone would pay us for this crap... get real. Generally people pay writers who are actually good and have actual talent.
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As ever, Buffy didn't feel the least bit worried or out of place in the darkened streets. She had never felt any need to fear even the most remote of ally-ways in Sunny Dale despite the horrific stories that one hears living in the small but surprisingly dangerous town. Tonight, however, it wasn't her preternatural swagger that kept her mind off the blood-streaked possibilities of being caught alone and in such spiffy cloths——why hadn't Angel noticed that anyway? She'd gotten especially prettied for their anniversary. She was more concerned about the audacity, the absolute nerve of that fly-by-night, ex-boyfriend of hers. Who the hell did he think he was anyway talking to me like that?!
"What I say is never very interesting? What about him and his mindless droning about toner and lighting as if anybody even cares about the little tricks of the photography trade other than photography people-types!" She absentmindedly kicked a pop can in her path. "And why can't people just pick up their damn litter anyway!" she demanded of the offending bit of garbage. The can either did not know the answer to her question or had taken offence to being launched half-way down the block, for it remained notably silent.
"Well forget you then!" she sniffed at the can giving it another more half- hearted kick right between the logos. She stopped and stared at the thing and gave a sudden burst of nervous giggles. "Look at me," she gasped regaining control of herself, "getting all wiggy just because Angel didn't want me!" Apologizing to the can, she picked it up and tossed it into a nearby dumpster that she could barely see but was able to just as easily pick out by smell. "Here I am, a grown woman——or nearly grown at any rate——and what am I doing? Picking on defenseless Pepsi cans just because my boyfriend . . . err . . . ex-boyfriend thinks I'm boring!"
She let peal another gale of hysteric giggles that dissolved into racking sobs. "How can he think I'm boring?" she cried ignoring the tears that were now flowing from her eyes. She passed into a more heavily populated street blindly following her normal rout through town on her way home. Buffy paid no heed to the milling Friday night crowd, slipping past a number of people she knew from class completely ignoring their friendly greetings. She even managed to overlook a boisterous trio across the street who might have been heard from three blocks down.
"Oh! Look! They have Five Hundred Years After and The Phoenix Guards!" one of them——Buffy had she been able to process anything beyond her own grief which was quickly converting back to anger——"I'm boring! And what the hell is so absolutely fascinating about him, I might ask!"——would have recognized her as Julia from that restaurant——exclaimed more excited than anyone has the right to be over a couple of books.
Nick and Amanda rolled their eyes simultaneously at their excitable friend. "They're just books, Julia," Amanda rejoined. "And not even new books. Hardly anything to orgasm over."
Nick agreed whole-heartedly. "Definitely not orgasmic material. The cover pictures aren't even sexy. Now that piece of lunch meat at the restaurant, that's something to orgasm over!"
"Oh, please, he wasn't that great," Julia said giving her friend a look, "and I thought we already decided that the Mr. Lunch Meat was not . . . uh. . . rainbow flavored. And I happen to think that a good book is plenty to get excited over. I was not, however, having a Meg Ryan moment. Public displays of sexual climax are not 'my bag, baby.' Do you have any idea how hard it is to find more than one Steven Brust novel in one place?"
"Well, you just did. It can't be that hard." Amanda didn't seem the least impressed. "Hurry up and buy them so we can go."
"Isn't that girl over there the one who was just dumped at Che' If You Don't Walk Out of Here Engaged, You Did Something Wrong?" Nick said pointing in at Buffy.
Buffy, for her part managed to completely miss seeing the group who delved into an involved discussion about whether or not she was a frigid bitch——she'd have to be for her boyfriend to have treated her the way he did was Julia thought, but she's just cynical. It was an accomplishment of some note, as no one else on the block managed to ignore the vociferous threesome. Angrily, Buffy wiped her tears.
"I refuse to cry over Angel saying I'm dull. He was just trying to hurt me because he's just a big poop-head." She walked faster, more confidently. "I don't need him. I never could stand all that brooding he did, and he was lousy in bed, and . . . and he had stupid hair!"
Nick who, along with Amanda and Julia, had caught up with Buffy after buying Julia's book and was following her because they're fun and I like to write about them scoffed at her comments. "Who is she kidding? That boy had perfect hair. He looked pretty beddable too."
"Uhg!" Buffy cried, "Who am I kidding? He had perfect hair. And I'm definitely going to miss him in the bedroom."
"That's what I just said," Nick complained.
"Well," Julia shrugged, "You said that they'd break up in two minutes and you were wrong about that."
"Yeah, and there's that whole frigid bitch thing, that's completely off. You were bound to get one eventually."
Nick stopped walking and turned to Amanda with his hands on his hips. "And how do you figure I was wrong? There's no proof that says she isn't."
"She said she's going to miss him in the bedroom. Means she must have liked sex as much as he did. And people who are frigid don't like sex." Amanda gave him her most annoying smirk.
Julia, worried that this could progress into something very catfight- ish, held up her hand and whispered irritably, "Will you two shut it? I'd like to hear what's going on with bipolar-girl if you don't mind."
Bipolar certainly was an accurate way to describe the blonde's walk home. Just as the friends following her at a distance were certain she had decided to be depressed and cry, the girl would start kicking things and coming up with all sorts of inventive new nasties to call Angel. She was alternately furious and hysterical all the way home, a home which turned out to be only a few blocks from where Amanda, Nick, and Julia were staying with Julia's aunt.
Buffy stormed into her house angrily nearly knocking her younger sister over in her hurry to get to her room and burn things. "Hey!" Dawn cried leaning on the stair rail to keep her balance, "what's going on?"
Before the shorter Summers sister could answer the younger one, Willow came in from the living room. "Buffy! What are you doing here? I thought you and Angel would be at his place all . . ." she stole glance at Dawn and reconsidered her wording, "all . . . enjoying a nice Pg-13 type celebration of your impending matrimonial bliss!"
Dawn rolled her eyes at the red-headed witch. "It's okay, Will, I do know about this stuff." Turning to her sister and putting her hands on her hips, she said, "I thought you and the shudder-bug would be playing the rated XXX card on this your second anniversary, but being as you're acting all psycho-Buffy, I'd say the night didn't turn out quite like you planned?"
Willow's brow furrowed worriedly, noticing the infuriated look on her best friend's face for the first time that night. "Oh, Buff, what happened? He didn't ask you to marry him?"
"What?" Dawn shrieked glaring at her sister. "You thought he was going to ask you to marry him! Why didn't you tell me?" Dawn looked more hurt than anything. Her sister was much older than she and often felt the need to omit certain facts that she didn't think the girl was ready to deal with. The younger Summers took this as a serious affront because she always confided in her sister.
"Dawn, I don't tell you everything."
"You don't tell me anything! This is a big something and it's like you don't think you can trust me or whatever." Willow put a calming hand on Dawn's shoulder. Having been Buffy's friend since kindergarten, Dawn was almost as much of a sister to her as she was to Buffy. In this case, her presence was not enough to make Dawn back down as it usually was. This argument was a long time in coming.
"Well, I had good reason not to tell you about this, you would have just freaked out like you're doing right now, like you always do when I tell you something important!"
Willow's eyes went from one sister to the other concern evident on her face. Neither girl seemed willing to back off, and it looked to the worried red-head as if she didn't intervene, blood might be shed. "Okay," she said stepping between the squabbling siblings, "Everyone is strong and empowered and is very womanly so nobody needs to go all wallopy on her sister."
To the great surprise of the two taller girls, Buffy's glare faded immediately from her countenance, her face falling completely. "I certainly don't feel strong or empowered," she whimpered—whimpered like she hadn't done since Scott had informed her he was gay. "I feel like I'm dying." She also felt like crying but was a little dehydrated from her mood swingy walk home.
"Oh, Buffy, what happened?" Willow said laying a hand on her distressed friend's shoulder.
At the same instant, Dawn rushed to comfort her sister with a slightly different tact. "What did that idiot do? I'll be happy to kill him for you if you want." Dawn had never had a great fondness for Buffy's boyfriend and was always offering to test her latest martial arts movie move on him.
Buffy decided to answer Willow instead of her over-eager little sister, even though a thorough but-kicking might be in order later. She related the story through dry sobs (and if you don't remember it—and who can blame you as chapter one was written at least three thousand years ago—refer back to "Isn't it Romantic"). ". . . and then," she concluded, "he said 'What you think is never very interesting anyway,' and he just picked up his coat and left!"
"Oh, Buffy, and we were so sure he was going to propose!" Willow worried at her lower lip, upset that she was the one to plant that particular idea in her head.
"That bastard!" Dawn exclaimed with indignation. "Can I kill him now?"
"Dawn, language!" Buffy admonished climbing out of her depression long enough to play the over-barring older sister.
"Hey, I'm on your side. And your side says, 'kill the unholy monster whose vampire-like personality hath leached all the joy out of my sister.'"
"I need to get Mom to stop buying her those bad melodrama books," the elder Summers murmured. "Did she really just use the word 'hath'?"
"Okay, before we go around killing my boss," Willow said ushering her best friend into the living room and shoving her sister in the direction of the kitchen, "I say a good dose of chocolate is in order."
After settling Buffy on the couch, Willow joined Dawn who was already warming milk and shredding chocolate. The Summers women liked their hot cocoa to be of the non-powdered variety in times of crisis. "We don't have any ice cream right now, so I figured this as a likely substitute. Grab the whipped cream and syrup out of the refrigerator, would you, Will?"
As she did as ordered, Willow frowned. "No tiny marshmallows? Buffy loves tiny marshmallows."
Dawn shook her head adding sugar to the unsweetened chocolate and milk mixture. "Now is not the time for tiny marshmallows. Now is the time for whipped cream and Heresy's best syrup." She thought for a moment. "And maybe some chips too. Check the cupboard to see if we have some."
By the time Willow and Dawn brought Buffy's hot chocolate to her, none of the whipped cream was actually visible underneath all the chips and shavings and crumbled up Oreos they added. "Perfect," Buffy said by way of thanks as she sipped the witch's brew of a pick-me-up.
"That was really good, you guys. Thanks," she managed a wan little smile.
"I'm sensing a 'but' coming up, aren't you?" the red-head speculated to the younger girl.
The brunette nodded. "I get the distinct impression of a 'but'."
The petite blond chuckled sadly. "But I still feel like Angel should want me. He still has this hold on me. How can he end it after two years? All sudden like it doesn't even matter if he hurts me. I just wish I could make it go away. Poof. Gone. I don't care anymore. Just like magic. Why can't I do that?"
"Um . . .," Willow paused hesitantly. "I have an idea."
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AN: Bandgeek252 would like to apologize for the four full paragraphs of chocolate. Anyone who is chocolate fiend or has had they're heartbroken understands the necessity for four full paragraphs. We are hungry so we are going to leave now, but more will follow, hopefully.
AN: So yeah, bet you thought we'd died or sompin'. Or maybe you just wished it. Actually, as Occam's Razor states, our inactivity on FanFiction.Net has a much more simple explanation. And that explanation is this: We are lazy and have been putting writing off for less important endeavors—Finals for example; and sleeping, sleeping's good. So for all three of you who care, we've decided to try to be better about posting on a semi-regular basis. We might even manage to post another chapter before 2005 rolls around. I wouldn't count on it, but one can always hope. So enjoy chapter two.
Disclaimer: Like anyone would pay us for this crap... get real. Generally people pay writers who are actually good and have actual talent.
____________~~^~~____________
As ever, Buffy didn't feel the least bit worried or out of place in the darkened streets. She had never felt any need to fear even the most remote of ally-ways in Sunny Dale despite the horrific stories that one hears living in the small but surprisingly dangerous town. Tonight, however, it wasn't her preternatural swagger that kept her mind off the blood-streaked possibilities of being caught alone and in such spiffy cloths——why hadn't Angel noticed that anyway? She'd gotten especially prettied for their anniversary. She was more concerned about the audacity, the absolute nerve of that fly-by-night, ex-boyfriend of hers. Who the hell did he think he was anyway talking to me like that?!
"What I say is never very interesting? What about him and his mindless droning about toner and lighting as if anybody even cares about the little tricks of the photography trade other than photography people-types!" She absentmindedly kicked a pop can in her path. "And why can't people just pick up their damn litter anyway!" she demanded of the offending bit of garbage. The can either did not know the answer to her question or had taken offence to being launched half-way down the block, for it remained notably silent.
"Well forget you then!" she sniffed at the can giving it another more half- hearted kick right between the logos. She stopped and stared at the thing and gave a sudden burst of nervous giggles. "Look at me," she gasped regaining control of herself, "getting all wiggy just because Angel didn't want me!" Apologizing to the can, she picked it up and tossed it into a nearby dumpster that she could barely see but was able to just as easily pick out by smell. "Here I am, a grown woman——or nearly grown at any rate——and what am I doing? Picking on defenseless Pepsi cans just because my boyfriend . . . err . . . ex-boyfriend thinks I'm boring!"
She let peal another gale of hysteric giggles that dissolved into racking sobs. "How can he think I'm boring?" she cried ignoring the tears that were now flowing from her eyes. She passed into a more heavily populated street blindly following her normal rout through town on her way home. Buffy paid no heed to the milling Friday night crowd, slipping past a number of people she knew from class completely ignoring their friendly greetings. She even managed to overlook a boisterous trio across the street who might have been heard from three blocks down.
"Oh! Look! They have Five Hundred Years After and The Phoenix Guards!" one of them——Buffy had she been able to process anything beyond her own grief which was quickly converting back to anger——"I'm boring! And what the hell is so absolutely fascinating about him, I might ask!"——would have recognized her as Julia from that restaurant——exclaimed more excited than anyone has the right to be over a couple of books.
Nick and Amanda rolled their eyes simultaneously at their excitable friend. "They're just books, Julia," Amanda rejoined. "And not even new books. Hardly anything to orgasm over."
Nick agreed whole-heartedly. "Definitely not orgasmic material. The cover pictures aren't even sexy. Now that piece of lunch meat at the restaurant, that's something to orgasm over!"
"Oh, please, he wasn't that great," Julia said giving her friend a look, "and I thought we already decided that the Mr. Lunch Meat was not . . . uh. . . rainbow flavored. And I happen to think that a good book is plenty to get excited over. I was not, however, having a Meg Ryan moment. Public displays of sexual climax are not 'my bag, baby.' Do you have any idea how hard it is to find more than one Steven Brust novel in one place?"
"Well, you just did. It can't be that hard." Amanda didn't seem the least impressed. "Hurry up and buy them so we can go."
"Isn't that girl over there the one who was just dumped at Che' If You Don't Walk Out of Here Engaged, You Did Something Wrong?" Nick said pointing in at Buffy.
Buffy, for her part managed to completely miss seeing the group who delved into an involved discussion about whether or not she was a frigid bitch——she'd have to be for her boyfriend to have treated her the way he did was Julia thought, but she's just cynical. It was an accomplishment of some note, as no one else on the block managed to ignore the vociferous threesome. Angrily, Buffy wiped her tears.
"I refuse to cry over Angel saying I'm dull. He was just trying to hurt me because he's just a big poop-head." She walked faster, more confidently. "I don't need him. I never could stand all that brooding he did, and he was lousy in bed, and . . . and he had stupid hair!"
Nick who, along with Amanda and Julia, had caught up with Buffy after buying Julia's book and was following her because they're fun and I like to write about them scoffed at her comments. "Who is she kidding? That boy had perfect hair. He looked pretty beddable too."
"Uhg!" Buffy cried, "Who am I kidding? He had perfect hair. And I'm definitely going to miss him in the bedroom."
"That's what I just said," Nick complained.
"Well," Julia shrugged, "You said that they'd break up in two minutes and you were wrong about that."
"Yeah, and there's that whole frigid bitch thing, that's completely off. You were bound to get one eventually."
Nick stopped walking and turned to Amanda with his hands on his hips. "And how do you figure I was wrong? There's no proof that says she isn't."
"She said she's going to miss him in the bedroom. Means she must have liked sex as much as he did. And people who are frigid don't like sex." Amanda gave him her most annoying smirk.
Julia, worried that this could progress into something very catfight- ish, held up her hand and whispered irritably, "Will you two shut it? I'd like to hear what's going on with bipolar-girl if you don't mind."
Bipolar certainly was an accurate way to describe the blonde's walk home. Just as the friends following her at a distance were certain she had decided to be depressed and cry, the girl would start kicking things and coming up with all sorts of inventive new nasties to call Angel. She was alternately furious and hysterical all the way home, a home which turned out to be only a few blocks from where Amanda, Nick, and Julia were staying with Julia's aunt.
Buffy stormed into her house angrily nearly knocking her younger sister over in her hurry to get to her room and burn things. "Hey!" Dawn cried leaning on the stair rail to keep her balance, "what's going on?"
Before the shorter Summers sister could answer the younger one, Willow came in from the living room. "Buffy! What are you doing here? I thought you and Angel would be at his place all . . ." she stole glance at Dawn and reconsidered her wording, "all . . . enjoying a nice Pg-13 type celebration of your impending matrimonial bliss!"
Dawn rolled her eyes at the red-headed witch. "It's okay, Will, I do know about this stuff." Turning to her sister and putting her hands on her hips, she said, "I thought you and the shudder-bug would be playing the rated XXX card on this your second anniversary, but being as you're acting all psycho-Buffy, I'd say the night didn't turn out quite like you planned?"
Willow's brow furrowed worriedly, noticing the infuriated look on her best friend's face for the first time that night. "Oh, Buff, what happened? He didn't ask you to marry him?"
"What?" Dawn shrieked glaring at her sister. "You thought he was going to ask you to marry him! Why didn't you tell me?" Dawn looked more hurt than anything. Her sister was much older than she and often felt the need to omit certain facts that she didn't think the girl was ready to deal with. The younger Summers took this as a serious affront because she always confided in her sister.
"Dawn, I don't tell you everything."
"You don't tell me anything! This is a big something and it's like you don't think you can trust me or whatever." Willow put a calming hand on Dawn's shoulder. Having been Buffy's friend since kindergarten, Dawn was almost as much of a sister to her as she was to Buffy. In this case, her presence was not enough to make Dawn back down as it usually was. This argument was a long time in coming.
"Well, I had good reason not to tell you about this, you would have just freaked out like you're doing right now, like you always do when I tell you something important!"
Willow's eyes went from one sister to the other concern evident on her face. Neither girl seemed willing to back off, and it looked to the worried red-head as if she didn't intervene, blood might be shed. "Okay," she said stepping between the squabbling siblings, "Everyone is strong and empowered and is very womanly so nobody needs to go all wallopy on her sister."
To the great surprise of the two taller girls, Buffy's glare faded immediately from her countenance, her face falling completely. "I certainly don't feel strong or empowered," she whimpered—whimpered like she hadn't done since Scott had informed her he was gay. "I feel like I'm dying." She also felt like crying but was a little dehydrated from her mood swingy walk home.
"Oh, Buffy, what happened?" Willow said laying a hand on her distressed friend's shoulder.
At the same instant, Dawn rushed to comfort her sister with a slightly different tact. "What did that idiot do? I'll be happy to kill him for you if you want." Dawn had never had a great fondness for Buffy's boyfriend and was always offering to test her latest martial arts movie move on him.
Buffy decided to answer Willow instead of her over-eager little sister, even though a thorough but-kicking might be in order later. She related the story through dry sobs (and if you don't remember it—and who can blame you as chapter one was written at least three thousand years ago—refer back to "Isn't it Romantic"). ". . . and then," she concluded, "he said 'What you think is never very interesting anyway,' and he just picked up his coat and left!"
"Oh, Buffy, and we were so sure he was going to propose!" Willow worried at her lower lip, upset that she was the one to plant that particular idea in her head.
"That bastard!" Dawn exclaimed with indignation. "Can I kill him now?"
"Dawn, language!" Buffy admonished climbing out of her depression long enough to play the over-barring older sister.
"Hey, I'm on your side. And your side says, 'kill the unholy monster whose vampire-like personality hath leached all the joy out of my sister.'"
"I need to get Mom to stop buying her those bad melodrama books," the elder Summers murmured. "Did she really just use the word 'hath'?"
"Okay, before we go around killing my boss," Willow said ushering her best friend into the living room and shoving her sister in the direction of the kitchen, "I say a good dose of chocolate is in order."
After settling Buffy on the couch, Willow joined Dawn who was already warming milk and shredding chocolate. The Summers women liked their hot cocoa to be of the non-powdered variety in times of crisis. "We don't have any ice cream right now, so I figured this as a likely substitute. Grab the whipped cream and syrup out of the refrigerator, would you, Will?"
As she did as ordered, Willow frowned. "No tiny marshmallows? Buffy loves tiny marshmallows."
Dawn shook her head adding sugar to the unsweetened chocolate and milk mixture. "Now is not the time for tiny marshmallows. Now is the time for whipped cream and Heresy's best syrup." She thought for a moment. "And maybe some chips too. Check the cupboard to see if we have some."
By the time Willow and Dawn brought Buffy's hot chocolate to her, none of the whipped cream was actually visible underneath all the chips and shavings and crumbled up Oreos they added. "Perfect," Buffy said by way of thanks as she sipped the witch's brew of a pick-me-up.
"That was really good, you guys. Thanks," she managed a wan little smile.
"I'm sensing a 'but' coming up, aren't you?" the red-head speculated to the younger girl.
The brunette nodded. "I get the distinct impression of a 'but'."
The petite blond chuckled sadly. "But I still feel like Angel should want me. He still has this hold on me. How can he end it after two years? All sudden like it doesn't even matter if he hurts me. I just wish I could make it go away. Poof. Gone. I don't care anymore. Just like magic. Why can't I do that?"
"Um . . .," Willow paused hesitantly. "I have an idea."
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AN: Bandgeek252 would like to apologize for the four full paragraphs of chocolate. Anyone who is chocolate fiend or has had they're heartbroken understands the necessity for four full paragraphs. We are hungry so we are going to leave now, but more will follow, hopefully.