Oh, my God. At the moment I can think of very few things that are more irritating than an eleven-month-old cat in heat. If I don't find time to take her to get neutered soon I fear I may very well do her some irreversible harm. Locking her in the bedroom while I work and turning up the music so I can't hear her howl feels cruel, but it's keeping her safe and me sane. Every time I scream "NO!" or "QUIT THAT!" at her, she just looks at me and sticks her rear end up in the air and points it at me, like she's thinking, "Oh yeah. Come on, punish me. Punish me REAL good." It's very disturbing.

Two papers down, two more to go. I got through my presentation this morning, barely. I was late to class because I was still printing out one of my papers five minutes before the class began. I managed 4 hours of sleep this morning (and that only because I slept through my alarm for an hour before it finally registered and woke me up), and I carved out 20 to shower and throw on some clothes. Needless to say, with wet hair, no makeup, and an extreme minimum of preparation, my presentation was delivered with a minimum of confidence. It was about social phobia. I should have told them I was demonstrating the social phobia called "stage fright." Anyway, I got throug it, and now it's over with. These projects were supposed to be done with a partner, but I ended up doing mine alone, so hopefully the prof will go easy on me since I had to do twice as much work.

Your sympathy (if you had any) for me will probably diminish when I tell you that instead of staying up into the wee, small hours of the morning working diligently on said project, I was working on the kidnapping fic. But maybe you too will go easy on me if I share some of it with you. Below is the continuation of this scene, which has since been considerably fleshed out, picking up where Spike dares Buffy to moon somebody.

My child psych prof. cancelled our weekly Thursday quiz this week, which leaves me with time to nap before I have to go to that class. Ciao. Enjoy the fic.

"I just shared a secret. Now it's your turn. Spill."

She raised an eyebrow. "What is this, truth or dare?"

He smiled slyly. "It could be."

"In that case, I'll take the dare."

"Right then. Next car we pass, show 'em your bum."

She gaped at him. "You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack." He pointed up ahead. "Here comes one now. Better get ready."

"You want me to moon somebody?"

"It's that or answer my question."

"Fine. What's your question?"

"Ah, ah, ah. That's not how it works, Love. You pick first, and you already picked. Better hurry, we're about to pass this car."

Buffy just glared at him.

"'Course, we don't have to play if it's too #much# for you."

Buffy continued to glare at him, but she started undoing her pants. Spike grinned. "Atta girl."

Spike changed lanes and pulled up alongside an open-air Jeep. It was full of people, but hard to make them out in the dark, even under the full moon. Buffy, her eyes still shooting stakes at Spike, climbed up in the seat, stuck her rear-end out the window, and lowered her knickers. Hoots and hollers came from the Jeep. Buffy closed her eyes. "Oh, God!" She pulled up her britches and dropped down in the seat, hiding her face from the other vehicle. "Go!"

Spike laughed as he sped up and went around the Jeep. Buffy hazarded a glance back at them, then shook her head. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Neither can I." Spike couldn't stop laughing. "I never thought you'd go through with it. Color me impressed."

"Color me embarrassed," she muttered.

"Oh, relax. Believe me, Pet, your bum is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thanks, I guess." She pouted. "Maybe next time you can wave your bony white ass at them instead."

Spike glanced in the rearview mirror, then nodded. "Right, then. Take the wheel." He let go of the steering wheel and started undoing his belt buckle.

"What? No! No taking the wheel!" She reached over to slap his hands. "Stop that!"

"Fine!" He gave it up and went back to steering the car. They sat for a moment in silence, then they both burst into laughter.

"So, did you see the looks on their faces?" Buffy asked.

Spike shook his head. "Too dark. Yours was pretty priceless, though."

"God, what if there were kids in the car?"

"Then you probably traumatized them for life. They'll spend years in therapy trying to forget about the blurry bare ass that was inflicted on them. Poor children."

"Shut up." Buffy put a hand over her eyes and shook her head, though a grin remained on her face. "I've never done anything like that before."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" He smirked at her. "Guess I'm a bad influence on you, Slayer."

"Yeah." She looked sideways at him, and smiled. "You really are."

His smirk melted into a genuine smile as he held her gaze for a moment. The mood was broken by a set of extroardinarily bright headlights coming up behind them a bit too fast for comfort. The Jeep was right on them, practically riding his bumper.

"Bollocks."

Buffy turned in her seat to look at them. "What do you think they want?"

"I dunno. An encore? Private show, maybe?"

She looked appalled. "I don't think so."

"Put your seatbelt on."

Buffy looked around, then shook her head. "Does this antique even have seatbelts?"

Spike rolled his eyes skyward and sighed. "Then, brace yourself and hang on." Just as he was about to slam on his brakes, the Jeep switched lanes. "Um, nevermind." It sped past them, then got back in front. "No, on second thought --" The Jeep slammed on its brakes, forcing Spike to do the same. He swerved off of the road, just barely missing them. They spun and skidded to a stop in the sand, ending up about twenty feet from the road, facing the highway. "Brilliant," Spike muttered. He looked over at Buffy. "Are you okay?"

She looked shaken, but unharmed. She nodded, then looked at the Jeep. "Okay, what the hell was #that#? I've been mooned before, I never wanted to go all #Fast and the Furious# on them."

"Yeh, well, that's 'cause you're mostly in your right mind," he said as several figures unloaded from the Jeep and started towards them. "Something tells me these pillocks can't say the same." He watched as they formed a line in front of the car, just outside the reach of the headlights. "Right, then. If it's a tussle they want ..." He looked at Buffy, and grinned. "They picked the right car, didn't they?"

Buffy just looked at him. "I'm not fighting. I'm on enforced holiday, remember?"

"I think we might not have a choice, Love."

"Oh, I've got a choice all right. It was #your# idea to pull that stunt back there. Why should I stop them if they want to kick your ass?"

Spike stared at her. "You know, Slayer, I can't tell you how comforting it is to know that when the chips are down, I've got you to watch my back."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let's do this."