Title: Sweet Oblivion
Summary: Buffy, Angel, Spike, and too much alcohol. Post-NFA.
Disclaimer: Not mine!
A/N: Written for a minific challenge community and the quote: "I can barely focus now. You're a cute blur." from I Do, But I Don't. Mostly a silly!fic, but not entirely.
Buffy splashed her face with water and looked into the bathroom mirror. She sighed. Spike and Angel were visiting and she'd hoped that they'd want to spend their first night in the city in a more meaningful way - maybe talk out what had happened in LA, Wesley's death, but no. They'd wanted to go straight to a bar and get drunk off their asses.
When she'd arrived, they'd already had more than enough, so she made a point to make her one drink last the entire evening – be the "designated walker" and help them find their way back to their hotel. Now her one drink was unfortunately empty and she'd resorted to hiding in the ladies' room to take a break from them. They were getting somewhat, well, intolerable. They'd both reached the point of talking twice as much as they normally would.
After another long moment, she nodded resolutely at her reflection and headed back out into the bar to face the music. As she approached the table, they looked up from their game of flipping a coin into their glasses and broke out into huge, drunken grins.
"Hey!" Angel exclaimed.
"It's you! You're back!" Spike added, then nudged Angel's arm. "Look, it's Buffy."
"Yes, I see her," Angel answered, nodding.
"Do you? Because I can tell she's there, but I'm not really seeing her all that well. Everything's gone all blurry."
"Yes, you're right! She's blurry," Angel turned back to Buffy. "You're blurry. Are you being rained on?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "We're indoors. Could you guys just-"
"You're a cute sort of blurry, mind," Spike reassured her.
"Very cute, as always," Angel seconded. "You know, Spike, you're looking a little blurry too."
"Am I?" Spike's eyes went wide and he patted himself on his arms and chest, as if assuring himself he was still solid. "God, I hope it isn't serious. I've had about enough of the whole 'incorporeal ghost' bit."
"...but you're not particularly cute," Angel continued, as if Spike hadn't spoken.
Spike glared and was about to retort when he noticed a waiter walking by. "Oy, garçon, another round over here, mate!"
Buffy gave him an annoyed look. "One: it's now common knowledge that it's actually rude to call a waiter 'garçon'. Two: we're not even in France. And three: don't you think you guys have had enough by now?"
"Just three more rounds," Angel answered for him. Buffy glared and Angel put on a pleading looking. "Please? It's just tonight. We'll be good tomorrow, I swear."
"Well, why can't you be good tonight and bad the day before you leave, so I can be relieved that I won't have to see you for awhile instead of really not looking forward to spending a whole week with you?" Buffy grumbled. "Why couldn't you be sober for our first meeting in over a year so we could actually talk about something worthwhile?"
Spike shook his head at that and snapped, "Something worthwhile like the great fuckup we made in LA last month? Why do you think we're drinking ourselves into oblivion? We don't want to talk about it!"
All three of them fell silent at Spike's short outburst. Angel hung his head.
Buffy eventually nodded and quietly said, "Okay. I'm sorry I pushed. Forget I said anything. But I really do think that this," she continued as she plucked the bottles out of each of their hands, "is going a little too far. Can we please just call it a night and meet up again tomorrow?" They both nodded silently. "Okay, I'll help you get back – make sure you're not robbed or killed or anything in your current condition. Where are you guys staying?"
The two vampires exchanged a questioning look.
"Oh, it's this really tall building-"
"-with a lot of rooms!"
"-on the street with the lights and the shops."
Buffy grimaced before she stood up. "Great! This is going to be fun."