Title: It's Never Easy
Author: Charisma Brendon
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the backstory and show manipulations I put in there.
Dedication: To Liz, Suh-ra, Lynn, some random people I ran into on the way here, and Doc and Akay, without whom this particular brand of bad writing never would've been possible. :p
A.N. - This is written for Buffy Survivor . . . from one of Doc's challenges, which is why it's random. ;p
Timeline: Mildly AU with enough BTVS references to make it Canon-ish. However, Buffy's POV is the way I think she'd think. I mangled the seasons a bit, too. But hey, no one told me it could be full-out AU. :p
"Remember that lime green bicycle your mom got you for Hanukkah when you were six? That thing was so ugly!"
Here we are, hanging out in the hallways and they have to start it, which always started that way. Every. Fucking. Time. How many damn bicycle stories can two people have? I know they have about fifteen years of history but, why does it give me a little pang when they talk about the way things were? Not to sound self-centered or anything, but isn't it enough that they have me now? But, fear not for my sanity, because I now know how to tune them out until they sound like the adults on Charlie Brown. Speaking of, when will they stop telling Xander's Snoopy dance story? That one pisses me off now.
It's not like I expect them to completely forget their past together . . . it'd just be nice if every now-and-then they reminisced about the Harvest or that one time our fears came to life because of the kid that kind of reminded me of Damian from The Omen. Now I'm just mind-rambling. Great. See, this is what happens when my friends exclude me.
I vaguely hear Willow mention something about cream cheese and Jess. Just smile and nod and they'll never know you weren't listening.
I remember that one year, my parents took me to New Orleans for a family reunion - where one of my relatives had somehow managed to get his hands on fireworks and he used it to blow up my Barbie. Yeah, she wasn't an astronaut. Anyway, that's not the point.
That was about the time my parent's relationship really started going downhill. One night, I ran into Grandma Mattie's room when my parents' fighting got to be too much and, even though I had woke her up, she was still so patient with me. I remember that she told me that when they started their bitch-fests in front of me, to just smile and nod and pretend that what they said wasn't effecting me. Actually, it worked well and I got the added bonus of being able to use it in any unpleasant situation.
"Buff, is cream cheese actually cheese?" Xander asked.
Damn. It's like he knew I wasn't listening. "Uh . . . nope."
"See!" I hear Willow say before they start talking about various types of cheese.
You heard me right, people-I-made-up-to-keep-entertained. Cheese.
Wait. Did I hear something about Oreos? Because, cheese and Oreos do not go well together. -- One of life's painful lessons.
I turn around and look up with an expression I just know screams "Confused girl, right here!" and see a pair of dark, ambereyes looking back at me. "Ford?"
Said eyes have an embarrassing amount of amusement behind them, which tells me that my voice squeaked like I thought it did. "Hey, Summers."
I will say this for myself: I didn't tackle him. The hug I gave him came close to it, though. God help me, he's hotter than I remember him being. But then, the last time I saw him he was eleven-ish so he's had time to grow up. Oh God, I didn't just think that. I couldn't have. Not when, three hours ago, I was sitting in whatever math class I signed up for daydreaming about that kiss from Angel on Halloween . . . and wondering if he kissed her like that.
No, I like Angel.
The Angel that's been sneaking around with the pretty brunette? The one that doesn't tell me what he does when I'm not around?
Yeah, that doesn't help too much right about now. Couldn't he have started going bald or something?
But, maybe it's a good thing he's here now. Maybe it's a sign from whatever higher power I work for that it's time to move on?
"You two know each other?" Xander asked. It gave me a small sense of satisfaction to know that he felt left out. That's going to send me to Hell, isn't it?
What came after that? I honestly don't remember. Playful banter maybe? I think there was the ever-popular "What have you been doing with yourself?" line. Hell, I don't know. I was too busy re-living every fantasy a ten-year-old could have about a crush. Okay, this time there were...naughty parts involved but, I'm almost sure that's the hormones talking.
Somehow, we ended up at the Bronze later. Isn't it weird how time can pass by so quickly when you're distracted?
Before I know it, I'm at the Bronze. Not only that, I've left my old friend alone with my new ones, so now I get the pleasure of worrying that they might kill each other. Well, maybe Willow will be in one piece but . . . you know how boys are.
So, anyway, here I am getting a drink when I feel that familiar . . . I don't want to say "chill" because, it's not the right word. It's like this feeling that makes my skin tingle and my heart drop to my stomach and start beating three miles a second. It's how I know he's here. Standing right in front of me, it would seem.
"Angel." I did it again. I actually felt my voice fade out on me. Bitch voice. At least it wasn't a squeak in front of him.
"Buffy." His voice has some weird mixture of surprise and happiness in it. Or maybe I'm projecting.
Silly me. I thought that Ford would be my salvation against this crush that seems to be getting more and more hopeless as time goes on. But, one word from Angel and I'm back where I started.
Maybe one more shot wouldn't hurt . . . .
So, what do we think? The challenge was to use three random words in the fic: Cheese; Bicycles; Fireworks