Title: Randomness and Clumsiness

Author: Charisma Brendon

Disclaimer: I'm Joss.

A.N. - I wrote this a while ago when Liz was on a power-trip because of that "Feminism Lecture"(capital letters because it's an evil entity). :p I thought it might makeeveryone thatread(s) Lipgloss and Letdowna little happy to know that I'm still alive and that they can expect a new chapter of that fairly soon. I just love you all enough to display my unbeta'd drabble just to spread that message. :p

Right, right. This is a one-shot.


Buffy Summers tapped her fingernails against the table in time with the song that was stuck in her head. Homework wasn't an option since her English Comp. teacher had cancelled classes and she didn't know what to do. She exhaled loudly in a "huh" noise before she allowed herself to look over the library.

The "checkout area" was placed in the center of the room. Long, gleaming tables were arranged in five rows of three on both sides of the large room. Several small, round tables were scattered around randomly and she considered moving to one of those.

That seemed like a lot of trouble, though.

Currently, she was sitting at one of the small tables in the darkest corner.

From her spot, she could see the entire room - probably better than the stern-looking, elderly librarian could. She observed said librarian - her name was Margaret Jones and she absolutely hated chocolate chip cookies - as she happily stamped (while chewing on a pen cap - such a multi-tasker) the books a student - Isn't he in my Psychology class? - wanted to check out. Buffy shook her head and smiled. This woman would have given Giles a run for his money as far as obsessing over books went. Personality-wise? She was like . . . a duck. As in, talking to a duck would be more productive. Speaking of, she had to remember to go by the park and see Mr. Quackers.

She sighed and leaned back against her chair. She sure as hell wasn't leaving the warmth of the library to brave the New York cold. Sucky-ass winter.

She wondered if Xander and Willow still lived in Sunnydale. The last time she'd heard from either of them, it had been when they were all on a conference call and Xander told her about the plastic whistle he'd almost swallowed.

Dork, she thought affectionately.

A shadow fell over the book she was pretending to read. "Hey! Do you mind?"

"Maybe," a voice taunted.

"Angel?" Buffy asked with wide eyes.

He grinned at her. "Hey, Summers."

She jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around his neck. She held on tight and growled when he kissed her cheek. "You know I hate slobber on my face."

He rolled his eyes at the jab. "You know that's not true. Otherwise, you never would have dated Spike."

She grimaced at the reminder. "Yeah. I knew I should've made you go out with me instead. But then, you had that nasty habit of over-using hair gel."

He glared at her. "I'm not busy or over-gelled now."

She laughed, "Now sounds great."

She stood and, after pulling her jacket on, took his hand. They both ignored the librarian.


End note: So, yeah. It's random, I'm clumsy. -- Thus, you understand the seemingly unrelated title. Farewell, folks. I'll return soon.