The Other Half Lives
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 7 – Perceptions
(Rob)
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 7 – Perceptions
(Rob)
Buffy addressed Xander from her seat at the Magic Box table. "I need you to help me. We need to go to a place where women shoot men down."
Xander sighed deeply. "I suppose you just assume I would know where that is."
"Well . . . yeah, I guess."
"Fine, whatever. Normally I'd say we go to The Bronze, but seeing as it's the middle of the day . . . we need to go home and change."
Buffy frowned. "Change? What's wrong with what I have on?"
Her eyes widened. "I look too good, don't I? I need to get some clothes like yours! Where do I go to find that stuff?"
Xander just shook his head. "That's not what I meant, Buff--"
"My hair! My hair looks too good, doesn't it? I have to muss it up some like you do."
He looked at her incredulously. "No, that's not what I meant either. Let's just go, ok?"
Anya was suddenly standing next to him. "I don't think your clothes and hair are that bad, Xander."
He smiled weakly. "Thanks."
"Sure, you look like you went to the Goodwill clearance sale, but I love you anyway."
The former demon's eyes lit up, oblivious of Xander's wounded expression. "Hey! Maybe after you demonstrate how to act like a loser for Buffy I can fix your hair for you. That might be fun."
He got up and quickly headed for the door. He turned to address Buffy from the steps and was surprised to see Tara heading his way. She was gazing at him sympathetically.
"They don't understand what they're--"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is getting Buffy back."
Tara smiled awkwardly and nodded. Xander gave her a half-hearted grin in gratitude for her effort and addressed the man who was continuously adjusting himself in the chair.
"Come on, Buff. Straighten out the family jewels one last time and I'll explain on the way."
Spike was trudging through the sewers, cursing his aversion to daylight for roughly the millionth time. Tracking Greg hadn't exactly been difficult--the little pillock had sweat like a pig while being questioned in the Magic Box--but actually getting to him before dark was no simple affair for the undead. He would need help.
One of the many things Sunnydale had going for it--from a demon's perspective at least--was the extensive network of sewers underneath the city. Any vampire worth his salt immediately took the time to memorize where they were in relation to the world above ground. Therefore Spike was aware of places he could surface and remain safely in the shadows. The blonde vamp surfaced and carefully remained beneath the overhang at the 7-11, seeking out the pay phones.
After a few seconds of checking the change slots and finding no luck, he looked to his left and right. Finding a lady fumbling through her purse he sidled over, hoping she might just drop some silver. No such luck. He gave her his most charming smile and addressed her sweetly.
"Pardon me, miss. You wouldn't happen to have a quarter, would you? I need to make an important call, but I seem to have misplaced my wallet and I have no coins."
She didn't even bother to look at him, still rummaging as she spoke. "Get a job, loser."
He quickly grew annoyed. "Get a job, you say?"
He moved inches from her face and vamped out. "Give me a damned quarter or my new job will be slowly ripping your lungs out."
Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as the purse slipped out of her hand – she was too frightened to make a sound. He gave her a horrible smile.
"You dropped something, ma'am. Please allow me."
Spike leafed through the Gucci handbag, finding a can of pepper spray along with the woman's wallet. "Good to have these little bottles, it is. Lotta beasties movin' about. Let's see here . . . "
He dug into the wallet as his human visage returned. "Here we are. My goodness, we have a couple of your President Jacksons and a President Grant. Very nice indeed. I'll be having those. Oh, and before I forget . . . "
He took a quarter out of her change purse and held it up. "You know, if you'd just given me one of these you might still have all your pretty paper money. More importantly, you needn't have ruined a perfectly fine pair of underpants."
He smiled and returned her purse. "Run along now. Wouldn't want me to change my mind about your lungs now, would you?"
The woman took the purse and scurried off to her Lexus without looking back. Spike pocketed the money with a satisfied smirk and lifted the pay phone's receiver.
(Hello?)
"It's me."
(Hey, Spike, what's up? We doing wings tonight?)
"Maybe. I need you to do something for me."
(Sure, dude. Anything for a friend.)
Spike rolled his eyes.
"Right then. You know where the Target store is on Thompson Street?"
(Oh, yeah. You need some cigarettes? I don't think they sell alcohol or blood, though. No, wait . . . it's a Super Target. They have a meat department, so I can get you a nice filet mignon or something.)
"I don't need food or smokes. I need you to track a person down who works in there and bring him to me."
(Why do you need me for that? Oh, wait . . . you want this done like right now, don't you?)
"Wouldn't be calling otherwise. I'd get the little ponce myself if I weren't in a hurry."
(Are you wanting me to take this guy into the sewers? Jeez Spike, you know I can't stand the sewers. The air down there makes my skin get itchy.)
"Little late to be worried about your skin at this stage, mate."
There was silence on the other end for a beat.
(Saying things like that do not inspire me to help you very much.)
"Look, just do this for me, all right? It's to help the Slayer."
(You're helping Buffy? Well heck, Spike, why didn't you say so? I'll put a hat over my ears and leave now.)
"Right, then. I'll see to it you get a couple of Siamese for this."
(As I recall, someone already owes me six Manx for saving him from a loan shark.)
Spike's eyes widened.
"Right. Of course. I knew that. Just throwing a little bonus your way, is all. Once I round up the rest of the kitties."
(Naturally. Ok, assuming you're close to the Target you must be at the 7-11 pay phone, right? If memory serves there's a manhole cover in the shadows.)
"Yeah. You know, for a demon who hates the sewers you know 'em awfully well."
(Sometimes my hat blows off on windy days. A guy like me has to know where he can make a quick exit.)
"Right then. You're looking for a college boy. Answers to the name of Greg. Looks a bit like a young Engelbert Humperdinck. Don't know for sure, but he probably works in the music section."
(What makes you say that?)
"He's the sensitive type. As much of a wanker as Harris."
(Sensitive guys don't work in Automotive or Sporting Goods?)
"Not as a rule, no."
(Engelbert Humperdinck, huh? That's a coincidence. I sang 'After The Lovin' a couple of months ago for no reason at all. Couldn't stop it . . . it just came out.)
"Really? You didn't get original compositions of your very own that summed up the important issues of your life at that time?"
(Well . . . a bunch of us got together and sang 'We Are The World' that night. World hunger bothers me a lot. Does that count?)
Spike cringed.
"Oh, thanks ever so. Now I'll have that bloody song in my head. Call this pay phone when you've nabbed him."
(You got it. What's the number?)
"867-5309."
Spike heard nothing for a moment.
(Are you serious?)
"Just call the sodding number, all right?"
(Ok, ok. Someone pee in your O positive today or something? Jeez. I'll get back to you).
Spike hung up the phone and turned around, trying to get the melody of 'We Are The World' out of his head. Unfortunately getting anything out of his head was never a simple matter. Silently vowing to seriously injure Clem for doing this to him, he lit a cigarette and settled in to wait, glowering ominously at anyone who bothered to approach the public phone.
"Xander, what are we doing here?"
Buffy had changed into a pair of athletic shorts and the sleeveless white tee shirt that Americans had charmingly begun to call a Wife Beater. Xander wore sweat pants and a tee shirt of his own. Both had towels and water bottles to complete the traditional workout ensemble.
"Look around, Buff. You want to find girls to hit on, this is the place."
The gym was nearly full, with lines forming around the most popular machines. Xander approached the front counter and smiled at the attractive receptionist.
"Hey, Gina."
She smiled brightly. "Hey, Xander. I haven't seen you in a few days. You're not slacking off, are you?"
"Naah. Just doing a lot of overtime. Nice to know you care, though."
"I never said I cared about you. I just like sneaking Twinkies out of your gym bag."
"That's YOU?"
They shared a laugh as Buffy rolled his eyes. Xander turned slightly and indicated his companion.
"I brought a Buffy . . . I mean buddy with me. I have a couple of guest passes, right?"
"Of course." Gina focused on Xander's companion, eyes narrowing suddenly. "Isn't that . . . "
"No."
"But he looks just like him."
"He gets that a lot, but no, it isn't him. His name is . . . "
Xander glanced toward the Slayer with a panicky expression on his face before recovering.
"Ummm . . . Hank. Hank Summers."
Buffy's eyes widened as Gina smiled politely. "It's nice to meet you, Hank. Are you new in Sunnydale?"
Buffy was staring daggers at Xander. "In a way, yeah."
"Well, it's always good to see new faces."
"Easy for you to say."
Gina decided she didn't want to ask what Hank meant by that.
"Right. Ok, then. As I was saying, it's nice to meet you. We're always looking for new members."
Xander couldn't stop himself as he glanced at Buffy's shorts. "Definitely a brand spanking new member here."
Gina's smile faded slightly as she looked over Xander and Buffy's shoulders at the new arrival.
"Hey, Faith."
"Gina, whassup? You're not glad to see me or something?"
Buffy and Xander were staring in surprise as the attendant continued.
"No Faith, it isn't that. I just don't want to have any more incidents like last week's."
Faith put her hands up defensively. "Look, the guy got fresh with me. Anyone who grabs my ass without permission gets his own ass kicked."
"Kicking I could have understood. Attempting to stick a barbell in it is another matter. Look, I understand what you did and why you did it. That's why you're still a member and he isn't. Just try to have a little more control over your emotions, ok? Let us handle the jerks."
"Yeah, whatever. I'll try. No promises though."
"Thanks. Ok, guys. Have a good workout."
They moved away. Buffy looked from one to the other. "Ok. First of all, Faith, what are you doing here?"
"I talked to Xand while you were getting changed. Came to see the show."
"This is not a show, Faith. This is serious. I have to hit on women . . . and fail miserably doing it. You think that's going to be easy when I look like a rock star?"
"Keith Richards is a rock star and he's ugly as Hell."
Xander rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Like HE never got any."
Faith considered. "Ok, you got me there."
Buffy was fuming. "Guys, this is SO not helping."
"Chill, B. I'll be out of the way. I'm actually here to work out too. If there's any trouble I got your back, ok?"
"Fine. You have my back. Please do that from the other side of the gym. I need to hit on some women who might actually consider turning down sex with a man. Last time I checked you don't qualify."
Xander moved slightly away from Faith, hoping to avoid getting any blood on his clothes. He was surprised when she smiled and turned away as she responded.
"Ya know B, that was just wrong. Gotta admit it was funny, though. I'll be over here if you need me."
Xander frowned at Buffy. "That was a little harsh, wasn't it?"
"I haven't started getting harsh yet. Hank? You named me after my Dad? What was that about?"
"I had to come up with a name. I looked at you. You're a male Summers. Hank is the only one I ever met."
"Whatever. This better work because I will not go through life as Hank Junior. Why couldn't I be someone like Derek . . . or Ramon?"
"I don't know, Buff. He has a regular gig singing the Monday Night Football song."
"Huh?"
"Country music reference. Forgot you guys don't get into that. It's the music of pain, you know."
Buffy glared at him. "I'll show you pain. Let's get back to the point here. What's the plan? Are you going to show me how to get shot down or not?"
"Why does everyone assume that I'm the expert on this?"
"Come on, Xand. You pretty much don't do well unless the girl is a demon."
"What about Cordy?"
"As far as I'm concerned the jury is still out on what species she is."
Xander had heard enough.
"Ok, you know what? This little escapade has trampled on my ego long enough. This might shock you Buffy, but occasionally women DO find me attractive. Am I Mr. Bad Boy eye candy like Spike or Angel? Guess not, no. Still, I manage to do all right. Gina, for example. She's been hitting on me ever since I joined this gym. Pretty cute, isn't she? Must be a demon, right? Let's have Faith slay her."
"Xander, calm down. I didn't mean--"
"Yes, you did. You meant every word you said. You've all known me so long you just assumed I'm still the same. Reality check, Buff: I live in a nice place now. I have a job that makes pretty good money, and I'm already the youngest foreman they've ever had. Overall, I'd say I'm doing ok. You see, Gina doesn't know high school Xander. She just knows the Xander I am now, and he's really not so bad. I'd like to think I'm an okay guy at the end of the day. Apparently, that's the kind of person you consider boring and unattractive. That doesn't surprise me in the least, but thanks again for pounding it into my head. Makes me feel right at home."
He moved away quickly, headed for the Stair Master. Buffy watched him go with his mouth open. Suddenly Xander turned. "You know what's funny? The only time I feel inadequate any more is when I'm around the people I care about the most."
Buffy was about to go after him when a statuesque blonde stepped in front that caused his mouth to drop open involuntarily.
"Can I help you find anything?"
"Uhhh. No, that's ok. I was heading for the treadmill."
"The one that you just passed, you mean?"
Buffy's eyes widened with embarrassment. "Right. That's the one."
The blonde gave the Slayer a dazzling smile.
"You're new. I have a good memory for faces . . . and I'm sure I would have remembered yours."
"Y-yes. I've never been here before."
"Oh, a virgin! Excellent! My name's Samantha. I'm a personal trainer here."
She held out her hand. Buffy took it and managed to find her voice without cracking.
"I'm Buff--fank."
"I'm sorry?"
"Hank. My name is Hank."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hank. Come on, I'll show you around."
She walked confidently away, a bounce in her step that caused a stirring in Buffy's shorts. < Oh no>, he thought, <not now. Down boy. Down!! >
He walked as casually as he could, desperately trying to will the protrusion away from his shorts. If Buffy thought jeans were tough to hide things with . . . Samantha was speaking. <Must pay attention to Samantha. I think she's sort of into me. Dammit, I need women who aren't! This is a waste of time. She is so hot, though. Oh God, did I just think that?>
"Hank? Are you ok?"
"Yes! Sorry. I was just amazed at that last thing you said."
The perfectly toned blonde looked at Buffy strangely.
"You were amazed by the location of the water fountain?"
"I . . . most certainly was. The last gym I went to there was no water allowed."
"Are you serious? That's extremely irresponsible and dangerous. Where in the world was this?"
Buffy really wished Xander or Faith had stayed with her as she searched desperately for an answer. "Saudi Arabia. They don't have a whole lot of water there, so . . . "
"Really? That's fascinating. Are you in the oil business or something?"
"Yes. Yes I most certainly am."
"It sounds so exotic. You have an amazing life, Hank."
"Not exactly. It's all very . . . oily, actually."
Samantha hesitated a moment, then gave another 1000 watt smile. "Of course. Where was I? Ok, to your left is the aerobics room. We have schedules on the wall if you're interested. I teach all the morning and afternoon classes except for the weekends. I have to have some time to work on this tan, right?"
"Oh yes. Definitely." <She does have a beautiful tan. Oh God, not again. Grandma has boils, Grandma has boils, Grandma has-->
Samantha was still talking, oblivious to Buffy's torment. The Slayer only caught half of the sentence. --"where the free weights are. Oh look, there's Faith. Hank, if I give you some personal advice, do you promise not to repeat it?"
"Sure."
Faith was loudly challenging all comers to an arm wrestling match as Samantha whispered conspiratorially in Buffy's ear. "You might want to steer clear of Faith. She's much stronger than she looks . . . and I think she's a little wacko."
"Really? Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Last week she accused some guy of touching her in an improper way. Instead of reporting it to us she beat him up . . . and we're talking about a big guy here. Like six foot three, two hundred fifty pounds big. She made him cry for his mommy. Scary stuff."
Buffy was trying not to smile, aware that Faith could hear every word. "Huh. She doesn't look so tough to me."
Faith raised an eyebrow and got up, making her way over to intercept them as they walked by.
"Hank, ole buddy. How's it hangin'?"
She looked down with a smirk on her face. "Don't bother to answer that. I can tell from here."
Both Buffy and Samantha flushed, but for different reasons. Samantha spoke awkwardly. "You two know each other?"
"Oh, yeah. Me and Hank go way back. Don't we, baby?"
Buffy said nothing, vowing internally to put Faith into a fresh new coma when the personal trainer began backing away.
"Oh my, look at the time. I have a class to teach. Nice meeting you, Hank. See you later, Faith."
Samantha moved hastily off, her hips moving in a quick rhythm that aroused Buffy once again, even through her embarrassment at Faith's hands. The blonde Slayer turned to her brunette counterpart, face red. "Real funny, Faith. I thought you said you were going to have my back."
"Hey, you started it with that little crack as you walked by. How come you're the only one that gets to mess with people?"
Buffy folded his hairy arms, sulking. Faith frowned. "Where's Xand?"
"He completely wigged on me and took off."
"What'd you say?"
"I didn't say anything." Buffy hesitated. "Much."
Faith folded her own arms and waited expectantly. Finally Buffy spilled. "I think we might have hurt his feelings when it comes to this being shot down by girls thing."
"We? Whaddaya mean we? Notice how I didn't jump in on all the loser talk in the Magic Box?"
"Well . . . no."
"Guess you were pretty wrapped up in your own--" Faith looked down at Buffy's zipper again--"thing."
"Do you have a point?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. Xander's changed a lot."
Buffy looked over at him doubtfully, watching him struggling with the Stair Master. "Well, he's bigger."
"So not what I meant, B. He's comfortable with himself. Around here, Xander is seriously popular. Did you ever picture him turning into that?"
Buffy looked around. "He is? Popular, I mean?"
"Hell yes, he is. You guys know him so well from high school you didn't even bother to notice that he grew up as much as you guys did. Now, does he still dress like he doesn't own a mirror? Yeah, but nowhere near as bad as he used to. Gotta say I don't understand the hair, either. I'll give you that. Lemme tell you something, though: of all those women in the Magic Box today, the only straight one Xander hasn't at least made out with is you. Counting Willow, he even made out with a gay one. Can Spike say that?"
"He'd better not."
Faith closed her eyes. Sometimes she wondered why she was considered the dumb one. "You DO understand my point though, right? You hurt him by assuming he was a total loser."
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to. Spike said it and none of you argued with him. I'll bet if Xander said nasty stuff about Spike you would've argued, right?"
Buffy sighed. "Ok, I get it. I'll talk to him."
Faith looked around the room at muscular men giving off exaggerated grunts of effort. "He was a better man than all these big dudes put together before he turned sixteen anyway. Being all big and bad doesn't make you a real man."
Buffy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done with Faith?"
The brunette Slayer shrugged. "You have time to think about stuff in the joint."
"I'm just amazed to hear you become so open minded about men."
"You mean like you, B? Lemme see, Angel, Riley and Spike. Hmmm. Thank God you don't base attraction on looks."
"I don't. That is SO not fair."
"Really? Tell you what . . . hop in the sack with someone who isn't a total hottie. Just a good guy who makes you laugh or think about stuff. Then come back and talk to me. I tell you, B, if that boy wasn't with Anya . . . "
She looked wistfully to Xander at the Stair Master. Buffy followed her eyes, shaking his head. "I just can't see him that way. I love him . . . but it just isn't there."
"Hey, I wasn't saying you should hook up with Xander. If he leaves Anya, that boy is mine."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. He'll leave Anya about as soon as I leave Spike."
Faith snorted. "Ok, enough raining on my parade already."
Buffy smiled as Faith continued. "Boy's a pretty good lay, too."
"I didn't need to hear that."
"Anyway, don't stress over the wigging. He couldn't stay mad at you to save his life."
"I'll go talk to him."
"Shouldn't you get back to the Magic Box? Spike might have found that Greg dude by now."
"I still have to get turned down by an attractive woman."
Faith raised an eyebrow. "Samantha doesn't count? She might be a little dim, but that's one seriously good lookin' chick."
Buffy rolled his eyes. "Didn't you notice? Samantha was totally into me."
Faith started laughing out loud. "Oh God, B. You've been a guy for what, two days? You've already developed 'If She Smiles At Me She Wants Me' syndrome."
Buffy glared. "I think you're underestimating me a little. She took time out of her day to show me around, didn't she?"
Faith was staring at the blonde like he was from another planet. "She's a personal trainer, B. Flirting with the newbies is how she gets them to pay her a hundred bucks per session. She don't want your little ass. She wants your big assets."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Ok, Lance. Jesus, two days as the N'Sync boy and . . . "
"It's Justin, not Lance . . . and I'm telling you that girl is into me."
"Fine. She's over there talking to Xand right now. Probably scared shitless that I'm going to kick her ass once I find out she called me wacky. Twenty bucks says you go down in flames."
Buffy and Faith traded challenging stares. Finally Buffy nodded. "You're on. Care to come watch me score?"
"Nah, I'll take your word for it. If that bimbo sees me coming you'll never get a chance to talk. Bitch runs fast."
Buffy set his jaw determinedly and marched over to Xander and Samantha.
Spike was almost ready to deal with the two week headache and bite someone. It had been ninety minutes, and Clem hadn't called yet. He'd been given no choice but to resort to vamp face twice in order to keep people away from the phone.
Even more infuriating was that blasted "We Are The World" song that Clem had put into his head. To calm himself, he'd composed alternate lyrics to the chorus, and sang them softly:
"I love the world
And all its children
It makes me have a much brighter day
When I start feedin'
It's a choice I'm makin'
I'm ending all their lives
Until there's no one in the world
'Cept Buffy and me."
Forty-five minutes of that had his nerves on a raw edge. When the phone finally rang he nearly jumped out of his duster.
"Clem?"
"Hey, Spike. I got what you wanted."
"What took you so damned long?"
"He was in men's fashions."
"They have fashionable menswear in Target?"
"Not from what I saw. Anyway, I got him to help take some stuff to my car and gave him my oogy-face when he wasn't expecting it. Passed right out."
"Right then. How close by are you?"
"About ten feet."
Spike turned around to see Clem waving from inside his car, cell phone in hand. "Bloody hilarious you are." He slammed the phone down as Clem got out.
"He's in the trunk."
"Well don't just stand there. Back the car up into the shade and I'll fish him out."
Clem did as he was asked and popped the trunk. Spike looked around to make sure no one was observing and glanced inside, now joined by his pink friend. "This the right guy?"
"Yeah, that's our wanker. Didn't have any powder on him, did he?"
"Powder? What kind of powder?"
"I don't remember. Lithium or something."
"I have a couple of cousins who take that."
"Really? Into sex changes, are they?"
"Say what?"
"Doesn't matter. Let's get him out of here and into the sewers while no one is looking."
Samantha spotted Buffy coming and attempted to move away. He called out. "Samantha! Wait up!"
The trainer froze, clearly afraid. "It's ok. I would never tell anyone something that was meant to be private. Faith might be my friend, but I'm aware of how she can get. Relax."
Samantha exhaled heavily and put her hand in Buffy's. "Thank you. Like I said, she scares me a little."
Buffy snuck a glance toward Faith to see if she'd noticed the contact, but she seemed to have disappeared. <Time for some easy money>. "Samantha, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me next week."
The trainer slowly removed her hand, her expression instantly changing from relief to wariness. "Ummm . . . actually Hank, I'm sort of tired most nights after two classes. I don't go out much."
"Oh. Well, how about we just meet for coffee at the Espresso Pump some morning? I'm buying."
Samantha's face was a cross between utter horror and pity. <Please don't let this be some weirdo who doesn't understand no when he hears it. Ok, go to plan B. Lie like a rug.> "I'm seeing someone."
Buffy was hurt and confused. <I know this girl liked me. She was friendly and smiled a lot and . . . what's wrong with me? Just because I'm not big muscular cool guy I'm not good enough for a cup of coffee at least? Wait a minute . . . >
It cost her twenty bucks, but it was going to be worth it. Samantha was nice to Buffy because it was her job. Just like she'd been with Greg at the Doublemeat. Realizing that Samantha was still standing there awkwardly, Buffy forced himself to speak.
"You know what? I'm really sorry to bother you. See you later, maybe?"
Samantha couldn't completely disguise her relief. "Sure. See you."
The trainer walked away hurriedly as Xander approached Buffy. "Let's go."
"Huh?"
"You heard me, Buffy. I didn't have to eavesdrop. I've seen that look before."
"What look?"
"The one Samantha gave you. Mission accomplished. You're just like me."
He began to head for the door, but this time Buffy caught up to him. "Xander, wait. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings before."
He shrugged. "I expect it from Spike. I guess I'd like to think that you guys think more of me than that."
"I do. I just . . . needed your help with this, and assumed you would understand. I never meant to make you think I consider you a loser. I've never considered you a loser, even when you asked me out way back when. Sometimes a spark is there and sometimes it isn't, that's all. That doesn't mean you're not an attractive man."
"I'm not a child, Buffy. I do know this. It's not like I'm still into you or anything. It's just . . . things change. People change, you know?"
"I guess if we're around each other all the time it's hard to notice."
"I suppose."
Buffy looked at him sideways. "You know you could still fix your hair and dress better, right?"
"Of course I know that. I'm just comfortable this way, that's all. Willow still dresses funny too, you know. I assume it's because she's comfortable too."
"That's all that matters then. Whatever makes my best friends happy makes me happy too."
Xander smiled at her softly. "You know, every once in a while you're a pretty damn cool chick, Buff. Even when you have testicles."
Buffy smacked Xander on the arm. "Come on. Let's go fix me."
Xander and Buffy headed for the door without saying another word. They were blocked by a smirking Faith. "Somebody owes me in more ways than one."
Buffy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks."
"No problem. Gimme the money on payday. How's about we all go kiss that dick of yours goodbye?"
Buffy laughed and nodded . . . and groaned, as she again felt that all too familiar stirring.
"Faith, no more kissing references, ok? Apparently it's a hot button."
Xander looked at her with wide eyes. "You needed to become a guy to figure that out? Jeez."
All three chuckled as they walked out of the gym.
"I hate this, Spike."
"Stop your infernal whining! You could have gone home for all I care."
"No way. Buffy as a guy is something I have to see."
"Try to keep quiet then."
They'd been trudging through the sewers for over an hour, slowed by the dead weight of Greg over the vampire's shoulder. Thankfully, the Magic Box was only two manhole covers away.
"So is Buffy an attractive man?"
"What kind of stupid question is that?"
"A pretty simple one, actually."
"How the bloody Hell should I know?"
"Come on, Spike. It's just you and me here. You aren't comfortable enough in you manhood to be honest?"
"Oh, you want honesty? Fine, then. You're not even a man. Why do you care?"
"That hurts, Spike. I happen to be a highly desirable male in my species."
"Oh, shut your gob! You are not."
"Am too. These ears symbolize some important things, bucko."
"Too much information, mate."
They walked in silence for the next minute. Spike was glancing surreptitiously at Clem's ears when Greg woke up, unbeknownst to either demon.
After quickly sizing up the situation, he slipped his hand into his pocket and grasped the packet of Lanthium powder he'd purchased from Rack.
Waiting for the right moment.
***
End of Chapter 7
Xander sighed deeply. "I suppose you just assume I would know where that is."
"Well . . . yeah, I guess."
"Fine, whatever. Normally I'd say we go to The Bronze, but seeing as it's the middle of the day . . . we need to go home and change."
Buffy frowned. "Change? What's wrong with what I have on?"
Her eyes widened. "I look too good, don't I? I need to get some clothes like yours! Where do I go to find that stuff?"
Xander just shook his head. "That's not what I meant, Buff--"
"My hair! My hair looks too good, doesn't it? I have to muss it up some like you do."
He looked at her incredulously. "No, that's not what I meant either. Let's just go, ok?"
Anya was suddenly standing next to him. "I don't think your clothes and hair are that bad, Xander."
He smiled weakly. "Thanks."
"Sure, you look like you went to the Goodwill clearance sale, but I love you anyway."
The former demon's eyes lit up, oblivious of Xander's wounded expression. "Hey! Maybe after you demonstrate how to act like a loser for Buffy I can fix your hair for you. That might be fun."
He got up and quickly headed for the door. He turned to address Buffy from the steps and was surprised to see Tara heading his way. She was gazing at him sympathetically.
"They don't understand what they're--"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is getting Buffy back."
Tara smiled awkwardly and nodded. Xander gave her a half-hearted grin in gratitude for her effort and addressed the man who was continuously adjusting himself in the chair.
"Come on, Buff. Straighten out the family jewels one last time and I'll explain on the way."
Spike was trudging through the sewers, cursing his aversion to daylight for roughly the millionth time. Tracking Greg hadn't exactly been difficult--the little pillock had sweat like a pig while being questioned in the Magic Box--but actually getting to him before dark was no simple affair for the undead. He would need help.
One of the many things Sunnydale had going for it--from a demon's perspective at least--was the extensive network of sewers underneath the city. Any vampire worth his salt immediately took the time to memorize where they were in relation to the world above ground. Therefore Spike was aware of places he could surface and remain safely in the shadows. The blonde vamp surfaced and carefully remained beneath the overhang at the 7-11, seeking out the pay phones.
After a few seconds of checking the change slots and finding no luck, he looked to his left and right. Finding a lady fumbling through her purse he sidled over, hoping she might just drop some silver. No such luck. He gave her his most charming smile and addressed her sweetly.
"Pardon me, miss. You wouldn't happen to have a quarter, would you? I need to make an important call, but I seem to have misplaced my wallet and I have no coins."
She didn't even bother to look at him, still rummaging as she spoke. "Get a job, loser."
He quickly grew annoyed. "Get a job, you say?"
He moved inches from her face and vamped out. "Give me a damned quarter or my new job will be slowly ripping your lungs out."
Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as the purse slipped out of her hand – she was too frightened to make a sound. He gave her a horrible smile.
"You dropped something, ma'am. Please allow me."
Spike leafed through the Gucci handbag, finding a can of pepper spray along with the woman's wallet. "Good to have these little bottles, it is. Lotta beasties movin' about. Let's see here . . . "
He dug into the wallet as his human visage returned. "Here we are. My goodness, we have a couple of your President Jacksons and a President Grant. Very nice indeed. I'll be having those. Oh, and before I forget . . . "
He took a quarter out of her change purse and held it up. "You know, if you'd just given me one of these you might still have all your pretty paper money. More importantly, you needn't have ruined a perfectly fine pair of underpants."
He smiled and returned her purse. "Run along now. Wouldn't want me to change my mind about your lungs now, would you?"
The woman took the purse and scurried off to her Lexus without looking back. Spike pocketed the money with a satisfied smirk and lifted the pay phone's receiver.
(Hello?)
"It's me."
(Hey, Spike, what's up? We doing wings tonight?)
"Maybe. I need you to do something for me."
(Sure, dude. Anything for a friend.)
Spike rolled his eyes.
"Right then. You know where the Target store is on Thompson Street?"
(Oh, yeah. You need some cigarettes? I don't think they sell alcohol or blood, though. No, wait . . . it's a Super Target. They have a meat department, so I can get you a nice filet mignon or something.)
"I don't need food or smokes. I need you to track a person down who works in there and bring him to me."
(Why do you need me for that? Oh, wait . . . you want this done like right now, don't you?)
"Wouldn't be calling otherwise. I'd get the little ponce myself if I weren't in a hurry."
(Are you wanting me to take this guy into the sewers? Jeez Spike, you know I can't stand the sewers. The air down there makes my skin get itchy.)
"Little late to be worried about your skin at this stage, mate."
There was silence on the other end for a beat.
(Saying things like that do not inspire me to help you very much.)
"Look, just do this for me, all right? It's to help the Slayer."
(You're helping Buffy? Well heck, Spike, why didn't you say so? I'll put a hat over my ears and leave now.)
"Right, then. I'll see to it you get a couple of Siamese for this."
(As I recall, someone already owes me six Manx for saving him from a loan shark.)
Spike's eyes widened.
"Right. Of course. I knew that. Just throwing a little bonus your way, is all. Once I round up the rest of the kitties."
(Naturally. Ok, assuming you're close to the Target you must be at the 7-11 pay phone, right? If memory serves there's a manhole cover in the shadows.)
"Yeah. You know, for a demon who hates the sewers you know 'em awfully well."
(Sometimes my hat blows off on windy days. A guy like me has to know where he can make a quick exit.)
"Right then. You're looking for a college boy. Answers to the name of Greg. Looks a bit like a young Engelbert Humperdinck. Don't know for sure, but he probably works in the music section."
(What makes you say that?)
"He's the sensitive type. As much of a wanker as Harris."
(Sensitive guys don't work in Automotive or Sporting Goods?)
"Not as a rule, no."
(Engelbert Humperdinck, huh? That's a coincidence. I sang 'After The Lovin' a couple of months ago for no reason at all. Couldn't stop it . . . it just came out.)
"Really? You didn't get original compositions of your very own that summed up the important issues of your life at that time?"
(Well . . . a bunch of us got together and sang 'We Are The World' that night. World hunger bothers me a lot. Does that count?)
Spike cringed.
"Oh, thanks ever so. Now I'll have that bloody song in my head. Call this pay phone when you've nabbed him."
(You got it. What's the number?)
"867-5309."
Spike heard nothing for a moment.
(Are you serious?)
"Just call the sodding number, all right?"
(Ok, ok. Someone pee in your O positive today or something? Jeez. I'll get back to you).
Spike hung up the phone and turned around, trying to get the melody of 'We Are The World' out of his head. Unfortunately getting anything out of his head was never a simple matter. Silently vowing to seriously injure Clem for doing this to him, he lit a cigarette and settled in to wait, glowering ominously at anyone who bothered to approach the public phone.
"Xander, what are we doing here?"
Buffy had changed into a pair of athletic shorts and the sleeveless white tee shirt that Americans had charmingly begun to call a Wife Beater. Xander wore sweat pants and a tee shirt of his own. Both had towels and water bottles to complete the traditional workout ensemble.
"Look around, Buff. You want to find girls to hit on, this is the place."
The gym was nearly full, with lines forming around the most popular machines. Xander approached the front counter and smiled at the attractive receptionist.
"Hey, Gina."
She smiled brightly. "Hey, Xander. I haven't seen you in a few days. You're not slacking off, are you?"
"Naah. Just doing a lot of overtime. Nice to know you care, though."
"I never said I cared about you. I just like sneaking Twinkies out of your gym bag."
"That's YOU?"
They shared a laugh as Buffy rolled his eyes. Xander turned slightly and indicated his companion.
"I brought a Buffy . . . I mean buddy with me. I have a couple of guest passes, right?"
"Of course." Gina focused on Xander's companion, eyes narrowing suddenly. "Isn't that . . . "
"No."
"But he looks just like him."
"He gets that a lot, but no, it isn't him. His name is . . . "
Xander glanced toward the Slayer with a panicky expression on his face before recovering.
"Ummm . . . Hank. Hank Summers."
Buffy's eyes widened as Gina smiled politely. "It's nice to meet you, Hank. Are you new in Sunnydale?"
Buffy was staring daggers at Xander. "In a way, yeah."
"Well, it's always good to see new faces."
"Easy for you to say."
Gina decided she didn't want to ask what Hank meant by that.
"Right. Ok, then. As I was saying, it's nice to meet you. We're always looking for new members."
Xander couldn't stop himself as he glanced at Buffy's shorts. "Definitely a brand spanking new member here."
Gina's smile faded slightly as she looked over Xander and Buffy's shoulders at the new arrival.
"Hey, Faith."
"Gina, whassup? You're not glad to see me or something?"
Buffy and Xander were staring in surprise as the attendant continued.
"No Faith, it isn't that. I just don't want to have any more incidents like last week's."
Faith put her hands up defensively. "Look, the guy got fresh with me. Anyone who grabs my ass without permission gets his own ass kicked."
"Kicking I could have understood. Attempting to stick a barbell in it is another matter. Look, I understand what you did and why you did it. That's why you're still a member and he isn't. Just try to have a little more control over your emotions, ok? Let us handle the jerks."
"Yeah, whatever. I'll try. No promises though."
"Thanks. Ok, guys. Have a good workout."
They moved away. Buffy looked from one to the other. "Ok. First of all, Faith, what are you doing here?"
"I talked to Xand while you were getting changed. Came to see the show."
"This is not a show, Faith. This is serious. I have to hit on women . . . and fail miserably doing it. You think that's going to be easy when I look like a rock star?"
"Keith Richards is a rock star and he's ugly as Hell."
Xander rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Like HE never got any."
Faith considered. "Ok, you got me there."
Buffy was fuming. "Guys, this is SO not helping."
"Chill, B. I'll be out of the way. I'm actually here to work out too. If there's any trouble I got your back, ok?"
"Fine. You have my back. Please do that from the other side of the gym. I need to hit on some women who might actually consider turning down sex with a man. Last time I checked you don't qualify."
Xander moved slightly away from Faith, hoping to avoid getting any blood on his clothes. He was surprised when she smiled and turned away as she responded.
"Ya know B, that was just wrong. Gotta admit it was funny, though. I'll be over here if you need me."
Xander frowned at Buffy. "That was a little harsh, wasn't it?"
"I haven't started getting harsh yet. Hank? You named me after my Dad? What was that about?"
"I had to come up with a name. I looked at you. You're a male Summers. Hank is the only one I ever met."
"Whatever. This better work because I will not go through life as Hank Junior. Why couldn't I be someone like Derek . . . or Ramon?"
"I don't know, Buff. He has a regular gig singing the Monday Night Football song."
"Huh?"
"Country music reference. Forgot you guys don't get into that. It's the music of pain, you know."
Buffy glared at him. "I'll show you pain. Let's get back to the point here. What's the plan? Are you going to show me how to get shot down or not?"
"Why does everyone assume that I'm the expert on this?"
"Come on, Xand. You pretty much don't do well unless the girl is a demon."
"What about Cordy?"
"As far as I'm concerned the jury is still out on what species she is."
Xander had heard enough.
"Ok, you know what? This little escapade has trampled on my ego long enough. This might shock you Buffy, but occasionally women DO find me attractive. Am I Mr. Bad Boy eye candy like Spike or Angel? Guess not, no. Still, I manage to do all right. Gina, for example. She's been hitting on me ever since I joined this gym. Pretty cute, isn't she? Must be a demon, right? Let's have Faith slay her."
"Xander, calm down. I didn't mean--"
"Yes, you did. You meant every word you said. You've all known me so long you just assumed I'm still the same. Reality check, Buff: I live in a nice place now. I have a job that makes pretty good money, and I'm already the youngest foreman they've ever had. Overall, I'd say I'm doing ok. You see, Gina doesn't know high school Xander. She just knows the Xander I am now, and he's really not so bad. I'd like to think I'm an okay guy at the end of the day. Apparently, that's the kind of person you consider boring and unattractive. That doesn't surprise me in the least, but thanks again for pounding it into my head. Makes me feel right at home."
He moved away quickly, headed for the Stair Master. Buffy watched him go with his mouth open. Suddenly Xander turned. "You know what's funny? The only time I feel inadequate any more is when I'm around the people I care about the most."
Buffy was about to go after him when a statuesque blonde stepped in front that caused his mouth to drop open involuntarily.
"Can I help you find anything?"
"Uhhh. No, that's ok. I was heading for the treadmill."
"The one that you just passed, you mean?"
Buffy's eyes widened with embarrassment. "Right. That's the one."
The blonde gave the Slayer a dazzling smile.
"You're new. I have a good memory for faces . . . and I'm sure I would have remembered yours."
"Y-yes. I've never been here before."
"Oh, a virgin! Excellent! My name's Samantha. I'm a personal trainer here."
She held out her hand. Buffy took it and managed to find her voice without cracking.
"I'm Buff--fank."
"I'm sorry?"
"Hank. My name is Hank."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hank. Come on, I'll show you around."
She walked confidently away, a bounce in her step that caused a stirring in Buffy's shorts. < Oh no>, he thought, <not now. Down boy. Down!! >
He walked as casually as he could, desperately trying to will the protrusion away from his shorts. If Buffy thought jeans were tough to hide things with . . . Samantha was speaking. <Must pay attention to Samantha. I think she's sort of into me. Dammit, I need women who aren't! This is a waste of time. She is so hot, though. Oh God, did I just think that?>
"Hank? Are you ok?"
"Yes! Sorry. I was just amazed at that last thing you said."
The perfectly toned blonde looked at Buffy strangely.
"You were amazed by the location of the water fountain?"
"I . . . most certainly was. The last gym I went to there was no water allowed."
"Are you serious? That's extremely irresponsible and dangerous. Where in the world was this?"
Buffy really wished Xander or Faith had stayed with her as she searched desperately for an answer. "Saudi Arabia. They don't have a whole lot of water there, so . . . "
"Really? That's fascinating. Are you in the oil business or something?"
"Yes. Yes I most certainly am."
"It sounds so exotic. You have an amazing life, Hank."
"Not exactly. It's all very . . . oily, actually."
Samantha hesitated a moment, then gave another 1000 watt smile. "Of course. Where was I? Ok, to your left is the aerobics room. We have schedules on the wall if you're interested. I teach all the morning and afternoon classes except for the weekends. I have to have some time to work on this tan, right?"
"Oh yes. Definitely." <She does have a beautiful tan. Oh God, not again. Grandma has boils, Grandma has boils, Grandma has-->
Samantha was still talking, oblivious to Buffy's torment. The Slayer only caught half of the sentence. --"where the free weights are. Oh look, there's Faith. Hank, if I give you some personal advice, do you promise not to repeat it?"
"Sure."
Faith was loudly challenging all comers to an arm wrestling match as Samantha whispered conspiratorially in Buffy's ear. "You might want to steer clear of Faith. She's much stronger than she looks . . . and I think she's a little wacko."
"Really? Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Last week she accused some guy of touching her in an improper way. Instead of reporting it to us she beat him up . . . and we're talking about a big guy here. Like six foot three, two hundred fifty pounds big. She made him cry for his mommy. Scary stuff."
Buffy was trying not to smile, aware that Faith could hear every word. "Huh. She doesn't look so tough to me."
Faith raised an eyebrow and got up, making her way over to intercept them as they walked by.
"Hank, ole buddy. How's it hangin'?"
She looked down with a smirk on her face. "Don't bother to answer that. I can tell from here."
Both Buffy and Samantha flushed, but for different reasons. Samantha spoke awkwardly. "You two know each other?"
"Oh, yeah. Me and Hank go way back. Don't we, baby?"
Buffy said nothing, vowing internally to put Faith into a fresh new coma when the personal trainer began backing away.
"Oh my, look at the time. I have a class to teach. Nice meeting you, Hank. See you later, Faith."
Samantha moved hastily off, her hips moving in a quick rhythm that aroused Buffy once again, even through her embarrassment at Faith's hands. The blonde Slayer turned to her brunette counterpart, face red. "Real funny, Faith. I thought you said you were going to have my back."
"Hey, you started it with that little crack as you walked by. How come you're the only one that gets to mess with people?"
Buffy folded his hairy arms, sulking. Faith frowned. "Where's Xand?"
"He completely wigged on me and took off."
"What'd you say?"
"I didn't say anything." Buffy hesitated. "Much."
Faith folded her own arms and waited expectantly. Finally Buffy spilled. "I think we might have hurt his feelings when it comes to this being shot down by girls thing."
"We? Whaddaya mean we? Notice how I didn't jump in on all the loser talk in the Magic Box?"
"Well . . . no."
"Guess you were pretty wrapped up in your own--" Faith looked down at Buffy's zipper again--"thing."
"Do you have a point?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. Xander's changed a lot."
Buffy looked over at him doubtfully, watching him struggling with the Stair Master. "Well, he's bigger."
"So not what I meant, B. He's comfortable with himself. Around here, Xander is seriously popular. Did you ever picture him turning into that?"
Buffy looked around. "He is? Popular, I mean?"
"Hell yes, he is. You guys know him so well from high school you didn't even bother to notice that he grew up as much as you guys did. Now, does he still dress like he doesn't own a mirror? Yeah, but nowhere near as bad as he used to. Gotta say I don't understand the hair, either. I'll give you that. Lemme tell you something, though: of all those women in the Magic Box today, the only straight one Xander hasn't at least made out with is you. Counting Willow, he even made out with a gay one. Can Spike say that?"
"He'd better not."
Faith closed her eyes. Sometimes she wondered why she was considered the dumb one. "You DO understand my point though, right? You hurt him by assuming he was a total loser."
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to. Spike said it and none of you argued with him. I'll bet if Xander said nasty stuff about Spike you would've argued, right?"
Buffy sighed. "Ok, I get it. I'll talk to him."
Faith looked around the room at muscular men giving off exaggerated grunts of effort. "He was a better man than all these big dudes put together before he turned sixteen anyway. Being all big and bad doesn't make you a real man."
Buffy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done with Faith?"
The brunette Slayer shrugged. "You have time to think about stuff in the joint."
"I'm just amazed to hear you become so open minded about men."
"You mean like you, B? Lemme see, Angel, Riley and Spike. Hmmm. Thank God you don't base attraction on looks."
"I don't. That is SO not fair."
"Really? Tell you what . . . hop in the sack with someone who isn't a total hottie. Just a good guy who makes you laugh or think about stuff. Then come back and talk to me. I tell you, B, if that boy wasn't with Anya . . . "
She looked wistfully to Xander at the Stair Master. Buffy followed her eyes, shaking his head. "I just can't see him that way. I love him . . . but it just isn't there."
"Hey, I wasn't saying you should hook up with Xander. If he leaves Anya, that boy is mine."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. He'll leave Anya about as soon as I leave Spike."
Faith snorted. "Ok, enough raining on my parade already."
Buffy smiled as Faith continued. "Boy's a pretty good lay, too."
"I didn't need to hear that."
"Anyway, don't stress over the wigging. He couldn't stay mad at you to save his life."
"I'll go talk to him."
"Shouldn't you get back to the Magic Box? Spike might have found that Greg dude by now."
"I still have to get turned down by an attractive woman."
Faith raised an eyebrow. "Samantha doesn't count? She might be a little dim, but that's one seriously good lookin' chick."
Buffy rolled his eyes. "Didn't you notice? Samantha was totally into me."
Faith started laughing out loud. "Oh God, B. You've been a guy for what, two days? You've already developed 'If She Smiles At Me She Wants Me' syndrome."
Buffy glared. "I think you're underestimating me a little. She took time out of her day to show me around, didn't she?"
Faith was staring at the blonde like he was from another planet. "She's a personal trainer, B. Flirting with the newbies is how she gets them to pay her a hundred bucks per session. She don't want your little ass. She wants your big assets."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Ok, Lance. Jesus, two days as the N'Sync boy and . . . "
"It's Justin, not Lance . . . and I'm telling you that girl is into me."
"Fine. She's over there talking to Xand right now. Probably scared shitless that I'm going to kick her ass once I find out she called me wacky. Twenty bucks says you go down in flames."
Buffy and Faith traded challenging stares. Finally Buffy nodded. "You're on. Care to come watch me score?"
"Nah, I'll take your word for it. If that bimbo sees me coming you'll never get a chance to talk. Bitch runs fast."
Buffy set his jaw determinedly and marched over to Xander and Samantha.
Spike was almost ready to deal with the two week headache and bite someone. It had been ninety minutes, and Clem hadn't called yet. He'd been given no choice but to resort to vamp face twice in order to keep people away from the phone.
Even more infuriating was that blasted "We Are The World" song that Clem had put into his head. To calm himself, he'd composed alternate lyrics to the chorus, and sang them softly:
"I love the world
And all its children
It makes me have a much brighter day
When I start feedin'
It's a choice I'm makin'
I'm ending all their lives
Until there's no one in the world
'Cept Buffy and me."
Forty-five minutes of that had his nerves on a raw edge. When the phone finally rang he nearly jumped out of his duster.
"Clem?"
"Hey, Spike. I got what you wanted."
"What took you so damned long?"
"He was in men's fashions."
"They have fashionable menswear in Target?"
"Not from what I saw. Anyway, I got him to help take some stuff to my car and gave him my oogy-face when he wasn't expecting it. Passed right out."
"Right then. How close by are you?"
"About ten feet."
Spike turned around to see Clem waving from inside his car, cell phone in hand. "Bloody hilarious you are." He slammed the phone down as Clem got out.
"He's in the trunk."
"Well don't just stand there. Back the car up into the shade and I'll fish him out."
Clem did as he was asked and popped the trunk. Spike looked around to make sure no one was observing and glanced inside, now joined by his pink friend. "This the right guy?"
"Yeah, that's our wanker. Didn't have any powder on him, did he?"
"Powder? What kind of powder?"
"I don't remember. Lithium or something."
"I have a couple of cousins who take that."
"Really? Into sex changes, are they?"
"Say what?"
"Doesn't matter. Let's get him out of here and into the sewers while no one is looking."
Samantha spotted Buffy coming and attempted to move away. He called out. "Samantha! Wait up!"
The trainer froze, clearly afraid. "It's ok. I would never tell anyone something that was meant to be private. Faith might be my friend, but I'm aware of how she can get. Relax."
Samantha exhaled heavily and put her hand in Buffy's. "Thank you. Like I said, she scares me a little."
Buffy snuck a glance toward Faith to see if she'd noticed the contact, but she seemed to have disappeared. <Time for some easy money>. "Samantha, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me next week."
The trainer slowly removed her hand, her expression instantly changing from relief to wariness. "Ummm . . . actually Hank, I'm sort of tired most nights after two classes. I don't go out much."
"Oh. Well, how about we just meet for coffee at the Espresso Pump some morning? I'm buying."
Samantha's face was a cross between utter horror and pity. <Please don't let this be some weirdo who doesn't understand no when he hears it. Ok, go to plan B. Lie like a rug.> "I'm seeing someone."
Buffy was hurt and confused. <I know this girl liked me. She was friendly and smiled a lot and . . . what's wrong with me? Just because I'm not big muscular cool guy I'm not good enough for a cup of coffee at least? Wait a minute . . . >
It cost her twenty bucks, but it was going to be worth it. Samantha was nice to Buffy because it was her job. Just like she'd been with Greg at the Doublemeat. Realizing that Samantha was still standing there awkwardly, Buffy forced himself to speak.
"You know what? I'm really sorry to bother you. See you later, maybe?"
Samantha couldn't completely disguise her relief. "Sure. See you."
The trainer walked away hurriedly as Xander approached Buffy. "Let's go."
"Huh?"
"You heard me, Buffy. I didn't have to eavesdrop. I've seen that look before."
"What look?"
"The one Samantha gave you. Mission accomplished. You're just like me."
He began to head for the door, but this time Buffy caught up to him. "Xander, wait. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings before."
He shrugged. "I expect it from Spike. I guess I'd like to think that you guys think more of me than that."
"I do. I just . . . needed your help with this, and assumed you would understand. I never meant to make you think I consider you a loser. I've never considered you a loser, even when you asked me out way back when. Sometimes a spark is there and sometimes it isn't, that's all. That doesn't mean you're not an attractive man."
"I'm not a child, Buffy. I do know this. It's not like I'm still into you or anything. It's just . . . things change. People change, you know?"
"I guess if we're around each other all the time it's hard to notice."
"I suppose."
Buffy looked at him sideways. "You know you could still fix your hair and dress better, right?"
"Of course I know that. I'm just comfortable this way, that's all. Willow still dresses funny too, you know. I assume it's because she's comfortable too."
"That's all that matters then. Whatever makes my best friends happy makes me happy too."
Xander smiled at her softly. "You know, every once in a while you're a pretty damn cool chick, Buff. Even when you have testicles."
Buffy smacked Xander on the arm. "Come on. Let's go fix me."
Xander and Buffy headed for the door without saying another word. They were blocked by a smirking Faith. "Somebody owes me in more ways than one."
Buffy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks."
"No problem. Gimme the money on payday. How's about we all go kiss that dick of yours goodbye?"
Buffy laughed and nodded . . . and groaned, as she again felt that all too familiar stirring.
"Faith, no more kissing references, ok? Apparently it's a hot button."
Xander looked at her with wide eyes. "You needed to become a guy to figure that out? Jeez."
All three chuckled as they walked out of the gym.
"I hate this, Spike."
"Stop your infernal whining! You could have gone home for all I care."
"No way. Buffy as a guy is something I have to see."
"Try to keep quiet then."
They'd been trudging through the sewers for over an hour, slowed by the dead weight of Greg over the vampire's shoulder. Thankfully, the Magic Box was only two manhole covers away.
"So is Buffy an attractive man?"
"What kind of stupid question is that?"
"A pretty simple one, actually."
"How the bloody Hell should I know?"
"Come on, Spike. It's just you and me here. You aren't comfortable enough in you manhood to be honest?"
"Oh, you want honesty? Fine, then. You're not even a man. Why do you care?"
"That hurts, Spike. I happen to be a highly desirable male in my species."
"Oh, shut your gob! You are not."
"Am too. These ears symbolize some important things, bucko."
"Too much information, mate."
They walked in silence for the next minute. Spike was glancing surreptitiously at Clem's ears when Greg woke up, unbeknownst to either demon.
After quickly sizing up the situation, he slipped his hand into his pocket and grasped the packet of Lanthium powder he'd purchased from Rack.
Waiting for the right moment.
***
End of Chapter 7