Again I Go Unnoticed

Disclaimer: Joss doesn’t seem to mind my borrowing his characters to write out my perverted fantasies, but he did seem a little weirded-out when I showed him the huge tattoo of his face on my back. (shrug) Maybe once I get the hair colored in and add "Joss + Desire 4EVA" at the bottom, he’ll love it as much as I do.

**

Pillow Talk

It was two-thirty in the morning she should be blissfully unconscious. Snoring. Mouth wide open and building a puddle of drool on her pillow…

But, Buffy was wide-awake. Eye-burningly awake.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she forcefully turned over on her side. She managed to lie still for only a moment and then rolled over on her stomach, making sure to take a second to give her pillow a good punch before placing her head on it once again.

Her Algebra III final was six hours away and the maximum amount of time Buffy’s eyes had spent closed was five minutes and forty-three seconds. She knew for a fact – she’d counted. Out loud.

This shouldn’t be on her mind! She shouldn’t be thinking at all! In fact, nightmares about man-eating X’s and improperly factored equations should be the only activity her brain was having.

This was all his fault!

Fucking Spike and his stupid, fucking lips.

The memory of the tiny peck was driving her insane; okay, so the seeing Spike naked and dildo gymnastics that came afterwards might also be playing a role in the painfully slow unraveling of her mind but for now, the blame would remain solely on those lips.

"Stupid lips," she mumbled into her pillow. Flipping over on her back she added, "I’ve never kissed a ‘bint’ before, Buffy; allow me to damage your psyche by trying it out on you. And maybe later, I can sweep your chimney! Pip, pip!" in horrendous cockney.

This was it, the final week of her high school career. If she could make it through exams without tearing out chunks of her hair, she’d treat herself to a celebratory cookie. No more Sunnydale High, no more trendy tables or idiotic clique allegiances and most importantly, no more forced study sessions with William Hall. Come Saturday night the winner of their little bet would be crowned and she’d be rid of for for good.

And that’s exactly what Buffy wanted.

Even if twerewere starting to, in their own twisted way, get along again…

Even if he swore to give her real lessons in driving without running/and or backing into things…

Even if they spent an entire night watching tapes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Spike remembered she loved mushrooms in her omelet; and even if he had those eyes, Buffy still wanted him completely gone.

And seeing as how Spike’s disappearing from this plane of existence wasn’t an option, she’d settle for his removal from her life.

Things were much less confusing when they wanted to kill each other, anyhow.

With another sigh, her hand fumbled around in the dark until it landed on the television remote sitting on the nightstand. Having finally given up on sleep, Buffy hit the tiny, red power button and soon was bathed in the glow of a Tony Little infomercial.

2:57 a.m. –

Algebra’s gonna be tons of fun.

A smile suddenly curling on her lips, Buffy reached for her cell, yanking it off of its charger and hit the first number on the speed dial.

A groggy voice answered. "Hello?"

"Whatcha doin?" she chirped sarcastically.

"In the middle of my fifty laps around the block," he replied dryly. "It’s almost three in the morning, Buffy, you better be making this call from jail, or something better be on fire…"

"Wow, you would actually bail me out of jail? That just warms the cockles of my heart."

He growled. "You’ve got three seconds to get to the point of this phone call, you annoying bint."

She settled into the covers, propping one arm behind her head. "Can’t sleep," Buffy answered simply.

"Bloody wonderful," Spike sighed.

"Figured I’d bug you," she said absently as she flipped through channel after channel. "Oh my god! There’s an ‘Uncle Wiggles’ marathon on channel fifty two!"

" ‘Uncle Wiggles’?!" he groaned loudly. "I have a chemistry ein fin five hours…"

"I don’t think a little sleep deprivation is gonna put your ‘A’ in jeopardy."

"…And you wake me up for a fucking kiddy show!"

Buffy laughed. "Oh, don’t even pretend you weren’t obsessed with good ole, ‘Uncle Wiggles’ back in the day."

"Exactly, ‘back in the day’. ‘Uncle Wiggles’ died out with MC Hammer and slap bracelets." Pausing, Spike added, "Wasn’t the bloke who played him found guilty of child molestation?"

"You’re shitting on my happy memories," she pouted.

That got a laugh. "Didn’t ask you to call me, luv."

"Are you going to stop being so damn negative and watch with me or not?" Buffy smiled.

There was a brief moment of silence before Spike answered her,

"Fine, I’ll watch," he chuckled, "but let me call you back in thirty minutes."

A snicker, "Nope; if I hang up, you’ll just go right back to dreaming of peroxide and circle jerking."

"You’re gonna have to trust me, Princess."

"Thirty minutes?"

"Thirty minutes," Spike repeated.

"And if you don’t call me back, I’m launching an all out non-stop ringing war on your phone."

"Wouldn’t doubt it," he laughed.

Ending the call, Buffy placed the phone next to her pillow and focused on the multitude of dancing puppets on the TV. For years, her sleepless night ritual consisted of waking Angel and forcing him to sit up and watch whatever random program she happened to land on until she was finally able pass out and get what little rest she could.

Why she decided to drag Spike into this instead, she didn’t know – and really didn’t want to think about.

Her stomach rumbled and Buffy tossed the covers back, climbing out of bed: There’s nothing better than a three a.m. bowl of Lucky Charms; and made it all the way to the door before bolting back to the bed to pick up the cell phone she had left behind.

"I don’t want to miss him, if he calls while I’m out of the room," a beat, "What the hell is wrong with me," she sighed loudly.

**

She was busshinshing out the last of the rainbows floating around in her bowl when the phone rang:

"Bout time," Buffy answered, stuffing her mouth. "Thought I was gonna have to put my crank-calling skills to use."

He chortled. "Open the window."

"Huh?"

"Are you recently deaf?" Spike shot back, mildly annoyed. "I said, open the bloody window. This tree’s not the most comfortable spot to be in."

Setting her food aside, phone still in hand, Buffy walked over to the window and thew the curtains back.

She let the window up. "What are you doing here?"

"You were gonna keep me up anyway, so I figured I might as well get ready for school here," he said, voice straining as he climbed inside. "You couldn’t have taken your insomnia out on Angel?" he smirked.

Buffy shrugged. "Nope. You’re special."

"Yay for me," Spike snickered, sitting down on the bed. "Ooh, Lucky Charms…"

"Hey! Hands off my cereal, bleach boy!"

She gave him a playful smack on the arm when he shoved a spoonful of marshmallows into his mouth.

Spike cried out, expertly maneuvering the bowl around her hands. "Violence and insults is not the answer, Buffy." He stuck his tongue out.

"You’re gonna spill milk all over my bed, jackass."

"I won’t if you stop grabbing," he teased.

Bottom lip jutting out, Buffy begrudgingly folded her arms over her chest.

He smiled. "You’re so spoiled." Scooping up the last of the cereal, Spike waved the spoon in front of Buffy’s face, making airplane engine noises. "Come on, Buffy, open the hanger…"

Rolling her eyes, she squeezed her lips tighter and tried not to laugh.

"…Here comes the plane. Come on, luv, Uncle Wiggles would wanu tou to have a well balanced, all sugar and artificial ingredients breakfast."

"You are such an…mmph!" The insult was cut short when Spike took that opportunity to shove the spoon in her mouth.

"Ass," Buffy finished after she swallowed.

Putting the bowl on the nightstand, Spike shrugged shotshot her a grin. "That’s what makes me special." With a yawn, he crawled under the covers, stretching out on his side.

"Uh-huh," Buffy mumbled, climbing in next to him. "Don’t even think you’re going to sleep on me."

"I’m not. Just getting comfortable."

"And don’t hog the covers…"

"Bloody brat," he snorted.

She yawned. "Cover-hogger…"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Wow, Summers, that one cut me deep."

"Tired. Can’t think." Eyes closing, Buffy snuggled closer to him.

He chuckled. "That’s no excuse for the likes of you."

"It is for the tired likes of me." A beat, "Did that make any sense?"

Unconsciously wrapping an arm around her waist, Spike smiled. "Not entirely. Hey, remember that one episode where Chip the Bunny loses his football and Uncle Wiggles has to go into the Forest of Enchantment to find it? Buffy…?"

Sitting up to get a better look, Spike shook his head when he realized she was out cold and settled back against her, shutting his own eyes.