Hi! Here's chapter 2 of this story. It's rather short, but I wanted to update before the weekend. The next chapter is already half-written, so it should probably be out in a few days. It was all going to go together, but I found that this was a natural break. Plus, it's too much fun to keep everyone in suspense a little longer!

Spoiler warnings and disclaimers from the first chapter still apply here. The rating is probably still T; we're still lingering in the 'suggestive discussion' stage… which I must say is *really* fun to write! Not that the inevitable smut won't be fun too… ;)

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Brits Do It Better
Chapter 2

Buffy settled herself in the flower bed, sitting with her back against the building and letting her enhanced hearing do the work. She wasn't quite sure it was possible to have your hearing obscured by the sound of your own gritting teeth, but she tried to restrain herself anyway. She would have never expected to find herself in this situation, crouched below an open window like some kind of peeping Tom, listening to her Watcher discussing the details of her sex life with a vampire. While Spike may have been neutered in the strictly vampiric sense, he wasn't exactly what you would call prim and proper. Buffy braced herself for the onslaught of lewd and inappropriate comments that was probably about to begin, more nervous about Giles' participation in the dissection of her love life than she was over anything Spike could say…

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The rather tipsy subjects inside the apartment had been silently contemplating for a few moments, Spike still wearing the mischievous grin that had sprung onto his face at the idea that Riley Finn wasn't exactly dynamite in the sack. William the Bloody had known quite a few Slayers in his time, and even without sharing an intimate relationship- though killing them might qualify as a sort of special closeness- it was easy enough to tell that a woman like that takes a lot of doing to keep happy, and not just in the literal sense. Slayers were high maintenance, with a sex drive that might as well carry a warning of 'Danger: High Voltage'. A squeaky clean good-boy type like Captain Cardboard never had a chance.

"You know what it is?" Spike's voice bordered on thoughtful as he tried to devise a way to explain this new revelation. "It's like… the difference between the piss these Americans call beer and a nice rich pint of ale."

Giles was leaning forward in his chair with his elbows propped on his knees. The empty Scotch glass had been put by the wayside- he was drunk enough to begin with, and now he had naughty thoughts of his Slayer dancing around the fringes of his mind to further intoxicate him. His hands fiddled nervously with his glasses. "I'm not sure I follow you."

Spike rolled his eyes. "And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one 'round here. Look at it like this. Riley is mister 'American as apple pie', right? Well, who really wants Auntie Mildred's apple pie anyway? They all say they like it, but they're really just saying it so she won't feel bad. What everybody really wants is the decadent chocolate layer cake from the imported pastry shop down the other end of the road. Am I right?"

"I suppose I understand your basic analogy, but I'm missing out some of the details. If Riley is, uh, this 'apple pie' that apparently Buffy doesn't really want, who exactly is supposed to be the chocolate cake?" Giles rubbed one hand across his slightly stubbled cheek, figuring he must be drunker than he thought if Spike's beer and pastry wisdom was making any sort of logical sense.

Releasing a short sound somewhere between a hum and a giggle, Spike swung his legs around so that he was sitting upright on the sofa. Pouring himself another Scotch, he leaned toward Giles conspiratorially. "Haven't you figured that out yet, mate? We're the chocolate cake. Blokes like you and me, men of the world, who know how to grab the right end of the stick."

Giles digested this information carefully inside of his foggy mind. He could deal with being a 'chocolate cake' in general, but he had never contemplated any type of stick-grabbing activity where Buffy was concerned… not outside of the type that involved staking a vampire, in any case. His face turned slightly red at the implication, wishing Spike's imagery didn't have to be so blatantly anatomical. But then again… maybe he was making things more difficult by failing to cut to the chase. It was just idle talk, after all. Merely harmless speculation. "So what you're saying is, you think one of us would be able to give Buffy the, err, satisfaction she deserves?"

"Why not?" Spike stretched himself, leaning comfortably into the cushions with one arm stretched along the back of the couch. "After all, everybody knows us Brits do it better."

Tilting his head to the side slowly, Giles raised an eyebrow in reluctant agreement. His mouth quirked up just slightly at the corner, train of thought heading suddenly down a rather dark and dangerous tunnel. "Well yes, there is that…"

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That? there is that? What exactly is that supposed to mean?

Buffy's mind was reeling. She hadn't understood the part about the beer. As far as she was concerned, beer bad. Period. No matter which kind it was. The part about the desserts, however, was a little more troubling…

…because Buffy wanted chocolate cake.

She wasn't sure she understood what Spike was trying to explain by the difference, but she knew how chocolate cake made her feel. Especially when you compared it against her aunt's apple pie. She wanted rich chocolatey goodness, fudge frosting layers, delicious ganache. She completely failed to see how Spike fit into this comparison, but Giles? Well… she could kind of see him that way. Giles could be a chocolate cake. The fact that she thought so caused panic and confusion, which she carefully smothered underneath the blanket of anger that still covered her understanding of what she had heard so far.

And what was it with the British, anyway? Like, snobby much? Do they really think they do everything better?

Trying to put a leash on her roving thoughts, Buffy returned her attention to Giles and Spike as they began speaking again in low, whiskey stained tones.

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Yes, Buffy. You *know* you want a chocolate cake! And Giles is a chocolate cake. Want. Take. Have! Well… maybe in the next chapter, anyway. Or the one after that. I have caught a case of the short-chapter bug at the moment, so be gentle with me. Buffy and Giles have some issues to work through first before anybody gets their, errr, bell rung. ;)

Looks like this story is going to the Prom with Rippertish, but might be persuaded to attend after parties with someone else. After all, you only live once! Review and let me know if you want to party with this fic!