Willow looked around, her eyes resting on Spike briefly before shifting over to Buffy, Angel, and finally back to Spike again. 'They hate each other,' she thought, her stomach clenching as her nerves began to erode. 'What was I thinking, getting all of them together like this!'

"Well, this is fun," Willow said. Three pairs of eyes swung towards her and Willow giggled nervously as she fought the urge to slid down beneath the table and hide there for the next few hours.

Spike saw her rapidly rising unease and grinned reassuringly. "Yeah, luv. Great fun. Just the four of us together." She looked less than reassured, and Spike decided that the next time he attempted to do so, that he would cut down on the sarcasm.

"No, Willow, really, it is!" Buffy chirped. She took a sip from her water as she tried to figure out exactly why a night out with the four of them could possibly constitute a good idea. "We--" She blinked and took another sip from her water. "I mean--" She shifted around, wishing that there was something considerably stronger than water in her glass. "We all get to know each other better!"

Willow nodded slowly. "That was the idea, Buffy. More friendly like means less... um... of what's been going on."

Buffy flushed, biting back an instinctive protest. "Right. I'm sure that once I learn all about Spike, there won't be anything left that I want to stake." Buffy paused, wondering if she'd just said something that actually made sense. She dismissed that worry as she gestured for the waiter. "Waiter! Over here!"

Angel looked at her in concern. "He'll be here in a minute, Buffy."

"I can't wait that long without any alcohol," she muttered darkly, trying not to glare at Spike. "I'm sure there's something in that handbook of Giles' that says Slayers and Vampires shouldn't be dining together."

Spike grinned, stretching his legs out beneath the table. He scowled when his boots ran into Angel's leg. "We have no problem eating with Slayers, as long as she's the meal, of course."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Like I couldn't see _that_ one coming, Spike."

Willow looked around desperately, her eyes finally landing on the fork placed on the precisely folded cloth at in front of her. "Oh! Look, they have little... ah, wiggles on the forks!" She held the aforementioned utensil out.

"So they do, luv," Spike replied.

"I'm not crazy, Spike," she hissed. "But if the rest of you are going to be needling each other, I'm going to have to try to keep you from getting worked up." She took a deep breath, her eyes pleading. "I really don't think that this restaurant would appreciate having a fight break out..."

"We aren't going to fight, Willow," Angel told her. "After all, we are all mature adults here. We can put aside petty differences for one night at least." Angel kicked at Spike beneath the table when the younger vampire merely sneered at his words.

Willow looked around warily. "Why did the table just shake?"

"Angel doesn't seem to be able to keep his feet on his side of the table," Spike said. "His foot just ran into my leg."

"Angel!" Buffy chided. She leaned closer to him, her voice a soft whisper. "Next time, don't hit the table when you kick him!"

Spike's eyebrow climbed upwards. "What was that, Slayer? Breaking our truce?"

Willow groaned, her hand waving about for the waiter. "Waiter! We need some alcohol here!" Three pairs of eyes swung towards her once again and Willow lifted her head defiantly. "What? I'm not enjoying this outing any more than the rest of you are!"

"That's probably not a good idea for you, Willow," Angel said.

Spike wrapped his arm around Willow's slim shoulders. "Yeah, luv. You wouldn't want me to take advantage of you should you get plastered, would you?"

Buffy's mouth dropped open in silent protest and Angel directed another kick towards Spike. The vampire neatly avoided Angel's foot, and cheerful ignored Buffy's expression.

"No. I think I'd much rather be able to actively participate--" Willow said. "What?!" she exclaimed when they all stared at her. "I just said that I'd much rather be able to parti -- oh. Oh!"

"That's it, Willow. Absolutely no liquor for you!" Buffy said.

Spike grinned. "That's quite considerate of you, Slayer."

"What? Oh!" Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to get staked?"

"Well, truth be told, I've always found escaping dangerous situations a turn on."

Willow giggled. "I'll have to remember that."

"Angel! Make them stop!" Buffy hissed. Angel shrugged helplessly, watching his childe playfully leer at the red-head. Buffy pushed back her chair, ignoring the loud screech it emitted as the legs dragged against the floor. "Willow! Washroom, now!"

Willow reluctantly rose to her feet and trailed after Buffy as the Slayer stalked towards the washroom. She barreled into the washroom and swirled around before the mirrors, "What was that about?"

Willow blinked. "What? I was making conversation. People do tend to do that when they go out with friends."

"_That_ was not conversation. 'I'll have to remember that'? Active participation? Good God, Willow! What happened to pointing out the squiggles on the forks?" Buffy said, her voice climbing with every word until Willow was nearly wincing.

"Everybody else is playing, and I'm tired of being the stodgy one who only blushes and looks confused! It's not like I actually plan on doing -- well, no. No planning... at the moment."

Buffy groaned. "Like guys can tell the difference between actual planning and maybe future planning! And just watching you sitting next to Spike is giving me the wiggins! I don't need any further mental pictures to add to that!"

"I didn't complain about you and Angel, did I?"

"That is so totally different, Willow, and you know it!" Buffy dragged a hand through her hair, irritably blowing at the strand that fell over her face. She leaned back against the counter and glared at Willow.

"We're just playing, Buffy. And I'm trying to lighten up the mood a bit. I don't want any fights." Willow sighed at the unyielding set to Buffy's jaw. "No more talk about participation in anything, okay? I promise."

"Good!" Buffy nodded, stepping away from the counter. She turned around to cast a quick glance at her recently disrupted hair. "That should make the evening a bit more bearable."

"Um, Buffy? You have a water stain on your pants from the counter..."

"Okay, strike bearable. This is Hell," Buffy muttered darkly.

"So, what did you think, luv?" Spike asked Willow as the two couples made their way out of the restaurant. The waiters heaved a sigh of relief at their departure, fervently praying that those particular clients would take their business elsewhere in the future.

"About the food? It was certainly... bloody," Willow said, her nose wrinkling delicately. The waiter had finally arrived while she and Buffy were trying to figure out what to do about the spreading stain on the back of the Slayer's pants. Which, unfortunately enough, meant that the vampires had been the ones to order for them. 'I'm really going to have to remember to tell Spike that I tend to like my meat actually _cooked_.'

Buffy went the direct route. "I prefer significantly less blood along with my meals." She wound her arm through Angel's and sighed in contentment as his fingers wound with hers.

"You have no idea what your missing out on, Slayer," Spike replied before turning his attention back towards Willow. "Now what do you say we ditch these two and have some real fun, luv?"

"And what does real fun entail?" Angel asked suspiciously.

"Anything that doesn't involve the two of you," Spike growled back.

"I hate to interrupt this fascinating round of insults," Willow cut in, her face paling as her eyes caught a familiar figure forming before them, "but I think we have a situation here."

"Drusilla..." Spike and Angel breathed as one as the vampiress smiled at them.
 

~End~
 

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