Chapter 7

Stupid, Idiotic, Dumb, Goth, Jerk!

As Buffy and Anya drove to the trailer park, they tried to decide where they would take the guys to eat.

As they pulled up in front of the entrance they decided that it would be best to just let Spike and Andrew decide for themselves.

Buffy glanced out of her window; Spike and Andrew were leaning against the fence surrounding the park. Spike was smoking a cigarette and Andrew was drinking a beer.

Buffy rolled down her window and called to them, "Hop in"

Both guys looked up at her and made their way to the car, Andrew scooted in behind Anya while Spike put out his cigarette.

Andrew seemed excited about the dinner; he was wearing one of his nicer black t-shirts and a pair of blue jeans. As soon as he got in the car he started talking, like they were all best friends.

Spike, on the other hand, was not so excited. He wore a tight black t-shirt, black ripped jeans, a pair of black doc martens and his trademark leather duster that must have been through both world wars by the looks of it. Holes dotted the back of it, and the leather was cracked in places near the elbow. And his hair of course was still bleached and gelled back. He barely muttered a word.

Buffy turned in her seat to face the guys sitting in the backseat, "So where do you guys want to go eat?"

Spike shrugged and pointed to Andrew, "'es the one who, wanted to come"

Buffy frowned at this but didn't comment on it, instead she turned to Andrew, "Where do you wanna go?"

Andrew smiled at her and shrugged, "I'm kinda feelin' like the onion flower things, can we go to the bronze or that where Willy works, The Dead house."

Buffy frowned at this as well, here she and Anya had planned to take them to some restaurant like The Pasta house or something, and they wanted to go to some cheap bar run by their friend Willy. She looked at Anya who was also frowning; neither of them had planned on this.

Unfortunately, Spike caught the frowns and smirked, "'ey what's this now, the boy wants to go to the Willy's, you said we could pick now your makin' your bloody faces."

Andrew smiled, "Please?"

Anya shrugged and put her foot on the gas pedal. Buffy turned in her seat too, her mind reeling with thoughts on the quickest way to kill Spike.

Stupid, dumb, idiotic, Goth, jerk. He didn't even care, he doesn't even look like he wanted to come, but as soon as I make a face he goes all Evil-I'm-Going-to-enjoy-this-because-it's-killing-you. Stupid Goth. Stupid tall, blonde, Goth, jerk. And his stupid, old, duster.