Too strange to be strangers
friendly to be friends
There were three light knocks at the door.
Spike stuffed the sheet music into his bedside table, sat up and peered through the glass. Buffy, with a pizza box and two cans of soda.
He opened the door, suspicious. "You're knocking now?"
"Yeah, well. Not anxious to get another full Monty."
"Right," he said slowly, looking her over, "Good thinking." This girl changed outfits more often than Cher. Now she was wearing a soft yellow v-neck halter top with little embroidered palm trees on it and did she ever wear a bra?
She held up the box. "Pineapple pizza?"
He tore his eyes away from her halter top. "Why would anyone put fruit on a pizza?"
"And that's what I thought you'd say. So half is plain." She walked in, he stepped back, and slid the door shut.
* * *
"Just one little bite. It's not gonna kill you!" She waved the slice stuffed with pineapple chunks in front of his face and took it away with a sigh. "Here I thought you were all Adventure Guy, but nooo, you're afraid of a couple of pineapples."
He snagged it from her hand. "Persuasive little chit."
"Thank you!" She gave him a sunny grin, and reached across the floor for her soda.
"You always get what you want?" He inspected the pizza slice.
"Nope. Only from you."
He chuckled. "Right. I'm the chump can't say no to a pretty girl."
She sipped at her Diet Coke. He thinks I'm pretty.
He was chewing. "Hey. Not half bad."
"Told you so. Pineapples, yum."
"Who woulda thought?"
She sat back and put her elbow up on the bed, hand in her hair. "You, if you weren't so pigheady."
"Oi." He pointed at her sloppily, munching on his slice. "Attitude like that's gonna get you intimate with the pool bottom again."
She gasped. "Not in these clothes, it won't! This blouse is one hundred percent silk."
"It'll be one hundred percent wet when I'm done with it." A sidelong glance, and he took another bite.
Buffy only really heard the word wet. And him being done with it. Let's veer away from anything having to do with wetness and being done. And why did he have to say it all throaty like that? Okay, subject, away. Away from throaty wet subject matter. Anything, anything... She picked up her own slice from the box on the floor that separated them. "How'd you get the name Spike?"
He chuckled evilly.
Apparently, not the better subject matter... But she wasn't gonna back down now. And he was so lying anyway. "Oh, come on. That would mean it was pointy. And it's not."
He raised a brow. "Who said anything about it?"
Buffy blushed. "Okay, so, my conclusion-jumping bad. Let's - rewind the tape and ask again. What is it, the hair? Sometimes you spike it."
"Name of my first band," he said with a shrug. "Railroad Spike. Used to nail the flyers to trees with rusty old spikes I found along the tracks. No name, just the date and place."
"No, it was destructive," he corrected. "Sleepy little English town, zillion year old trees. I was bad. The town rebel."
"Uh-huh. Did any of them know you played the accordion?"
He smirked. "You think you're cute, do you?"
She smiled. "Do you?"
He was struck dumb for a second, and actually started to stammer. "W-- uh--"
"Spoken like a true rebel," she teased, and sipped her soda.
Spike shook his head, eyes downcast. How did she do that to him?
"So. What turns a not-poor boy into a rebel anyway?" She tucked her feet under her thighs. "Peroxide? A questionable record collection? Strategically-placed safety pins? Or are those just the unfortunate side effects?"
"Careful. Getting philosophical on me now."
"Hey, I'm not stupid, you know."
"I know that," he said, looking at her.
And she believed him.
He threw his crust into the box and picked off another slice from the pineapple side. "After my mum passed, I went to live with my granddad. He was a strict bastard, I fought him every step of the way. The end."
She watched him eat for a moment. "Oh. Is he gone too?"
"Yeah. Right before I went off to school."
He really *doesn't* have anybody. Buffy suddenly wanted to kiss and make him all better, all over. But that wasn't gonna happen. No it was not. "And then there was Dru."
"And then there was Dru." He smiled bitterly. "The rest is misery."
"You said it was fantastic."
He paused, eyes on his pizza. "You really want me to talk about this?"
She looked away. "No. Not really."
Silence as he chewed, and then, "Your real name Buffy?"
"Yes it is. And shut up. William."
"Alright," he said, backing off. "Just, you know, could've been short for something."
"Buffy Anne Summers. The end."
"I like it," he said, flashing a smile at her before polishing off his slice.