CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Doyle set his shot glass lightly on the table and glanced over at his brother, asking quietly, "So when do you go?"
"End of the week, got my ticket today," said Spike, downing another shot.
Doyle blanched and twirled his shot glass in his fingers. "Sure I can't change your mind?"
Spike flinched slightly at his brother's sorrowful expression, but his mind was made up and all the puppy dog eyes Doyle kept throwing his way wasn't going to change it. "I doubt it, 'sides, you ought to see Harmony. Twenty-something little blonde chit. Gorgeous, she is."
Doyle smirked as he picked up his beer. "Uh huh... and does that description ring any bells to you?"
Spike's eyes widened slightly and he stammered, "Uh... no. No bells." Doyle's smirk amped up a few notches and Spike picked up his beer, chugging almost half of it as Doyle just sat there staring at him.
"So if I said, Spike, my brother, there's a cracking girl over there, short, blonde, about twenty something... you'd say?" Doyle gestured with his beer bottle, indicating a group of people standing on the other side of the room.
Spike turned around slowly, mostly just to humour Doyle because he wasn't particularly interested in trolling for women at the moment, and looked for the girl Doyle had indicated, his eyes widening into saucers as they fell on the small, blonde woman standing with her back to him. His hand jerked, rattling his beer bottle against the table top as he breathed out, "Buffy."
Doyle clinked the neck of his bottle against Spike's with a chuckled, "Ding ding ding... We have a winner!"
XXXX
"Hey, there's Doyle and that uh... one guy. You know, he who shall not be named," smiled Dawn as she waved over at them, getting a salute from Doyle and a shy grin from Spike.
Buffy kept her back to them as she spat, "I know, Willow spotted his stupid hair while we were at the bar and just had to point it out. Like I even care that he's here."
Willow flinched at the venom in Buffy's voice, but it didn't stop her from asking, "So, you and Sp..." An elbow to her ribs and a glare from Dawn as she drew a finger across her throat in the classic 'say it and she'll kill you' gesture brought Willow stuttering to a halt. She took a quick breath and continued in a low voice, "You and uh... Doyle's brother... still aren't speaking then?"
"Nope," said Buffy, sighing, "and I think it's for the best, this way neither of us get disappointed." She flashed a small smile that didn't manage to fool any of her friends.
Anya threw her a wide grin. "Well, I kinda think that's about to fail seeing as how he's on his way over here." Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to face him as he walked toward the group.
"Hello, ladies," he said softly.
After a chorus of hi's from the girls, Anya piped up with an absent minded smile, "Buffy's trying not to talk to you, which was easy when you were all the way over there, but is hard now that you're standing right in front of her."
Buffy shot her friend a withering look and gritted out, "Gee thanks, Anya, but you didn't really have to be so helpful."
Spike grinned slightly, "Sorry you feel that way, Buffy, but I do need a word with you."
"Sure, you can have two. Get. Lost."
"What is your problem, Summers?"
"My problem? Hmmm, let's see... right now my problem is about your height, has bleach blond hair, kind of a Billy Idol look-a-like... oh wait..." She smiled evilly.
"Well maybe if you weren't such a stuck up tight arse then you'd be able to get over yourself and we'd be able to solve this problem!"
"Guys," said Willow sternly, noticing her friend's little quarrel was starting to draw the attention of other patrons.
"God! You're just the same little bleached jackass that left, aren't you? I thought you were on a mission to go 'find yourself' or whatever bullshit excuse you were using for not wanting commitment, so I figured you would've found at least a speck of personality somewhere on your travels, but I guess it was a wasted trip!"
"Okay, you two, that's enough!" said Doyle walking over to stand beside his brother.
Spike laughed loudly, completely ignoring Doyle, "And that tripe's comin' from the chit who bottles everythin' up 'til she's 'bout ready to pop then explodes and makes a mountain out of a molehill! Maybe if you'd remove your head from your arse for five bloody seconds you'd be able to see what's goin' on 'round you, Summers!"
Tears sprang to Buffy's emerald eyes and without thinking she curled her hand into a fist and let it fly, socking him hard in the jaw, then she spun on her heel and stomped away without a second glance. Spike stood there for a few seconds, amazed that Buffy had hit him as his hand drifted up and rubbed at his sore jaw. 'Wow... bint packs a punch,' he thought before following Buffy out of The Bronze.
