“Popcorn with margarine and the weird cheese sprinkle -- check. Sour Patch Kids -- minus the green ones, because those are too sour for anyone to possibly enjoy -- check. Wasabi peas . . .”

Riley blinked. “Since when are wasabi peas a part of the traditional movie snack lineup?”

“And this from the guy who brings the weird cheese sprinkle,” Buffy said with a shrug. She pushed him gently to make more room for her on the couch. He bumped back at her in a friendly way, and then shoved over.

“It’s not weird. My mom used to have that sprinkle all the time in Iowa . . . ”

Riley trailed off when Buffy looked at him pointedly. He scratched his head in consideration and then grinned. “Okay. I guess I’ll just have to get used to your California movie-watching ways.”

“We are a strange but simple folk,” Buffy said agreeably. “So where was I . . . wasabi peas . . . check! Now . . . what are we watching? Oh! My soda!” Riley watched her scramble to the hall to grab the glass she’d left there when he arrived and dart back.

“Well, I brought a bunch over, because I wasn’t sure which ones you’d like.” Riley gestured to the stack of video tapes on the coffee table. “I even brought girly ones.”

Buffy raised both eyebrows. “I’m going to assume that means movies for girls and not movies with twenty-year old women wearing schoolgirl kilts and asking their beefy male algebra instructor to teach them a lesson.”

“Oh yeah?” Riley grabbed a handful of popcorn and tried to look earnest. “Why couldn’t we have both? You know, the whole schoolgirl theme, plus meaningful music, a wacky road trip, a tale about friendship triumphing over love relationships . . . except with much shorter skirts. And spanking.”

“I’ll show you spanking if you don’t get a move on telling me the real movies you brought,” Buffy warned.

“Promise?” Riley asked with a twinkle in his eyes. “Okay, okay. To start with, Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. And The Night of the Living Dead”

“That covers the classics,” Buffy said. “What else?”

“A real classic,” Riley said with a smile, “Sounder.”

“No. No and no. If we watch that again, you’ll start crying, and you know it, Riley.”

“Hey! I don’t cry. My eyes might water a little sometimes at oddly appropriate moments, but those aren’t tears.”

“Must be the wasabi peas then,” Buffy grinned. “Any other choices?”

“Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.” See, now that’s a really good story, because --”

Buffy shook her head and interrupted him. “What happened to the chick flicks?”

“Well, I did get something that I think you’ll like. It’s called The Sweet Hereafter. The guy at the video store said he thought it was a chick flick.”

“Riley . . . Mom went to see that film, and she said it was really upsetting. And that without the life-affirming message that’s supposed to come standard in the chick flick genre. It’s about an awful school bus accident. All these little kids die.”

Riley frowned at the tape in his hands. “Why does it have the word ‘sweet’ in the title then? And how come there’s this picture of a happy family on the cover?”

“Search me.” Buffy chucked that tape to the side and smiled brightly. Then the sound of a heady wail filled the air. “Oooh! The buzzer! My oatmeal raisin cookies are done! I made them because you said they were your favorite --” Buffy jumped up in excitement and sprinted off to the kitchen.

“Buffy . . . I don’t think . . . that’s not . . .” Riley sighed when he heard the horrified shriek from the other room. “Oh boy.”

“They’re ruined!” a tearful voice called out. Riley walked towards the kitchen and leaned against the doorway with his hands in his pockets. Buffy held a smoking tray of charred lumps in oven-mitt clad hands up for him to see.

“Yeah, those are goners,” Riley observed.

“But the buzzer went off . . .” Buffy said. “I was listening for it the whole time.”

“Uh, I think that might have been the smoke alarm,” Riley pointed out in a gentle voice. “Listen. It’s still going off. It’s okay, though, no worries. How about I go take care of that, and just forget about the cookies, okay?”

“Okay,” Buffy said sadly.

Once Riley had taken the batteries out of the alarm, he returned to the living room to find Buffy staring blankly into her empty glass.

“You want more soda?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “Sorry. It’s just that I wanted to do something nice and girl-friend-y for you, and I just messed it up. I’m no good at this stuff.”

“You’re a good girlfriend,” Riley said.

“No I’m not. Not with this kind of thing. I never get this part right.” She gestured around the room.

“Hey, hey,” Riley said, drawing her into a hug. “What’s going on here? This seems like more than just a batch of burnt cookies.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy said into his chest. She cleared her throat and looked up. “Let’s just watch the movie now.”

“You okay?” Riley asked quietly, dropping a kiss onto her head.

Buffy nodded and sat up, looking determined. “I’m good. We’ve got the other snacks. The air conditioning is turned up to meat-locker frigid, just the way you like it. And I’m ready to snuggle.”

“Great!” Riley said, bringing his hands together in a clap and rubbing them. “Now we’re all set, just as long as Giles doesn’t beep you in the middle of everything with news of the apocalyptic variety.”

“Nah, that won’t happen. I get summers off,” Buffy replied.

“You get . . . explain that. Do the vamps all trek out to their mountain cottages in the summer or something?”

“I don’t really get it,” Buffy said, looking thoughtful. “But it’s always been that way. Demonic activity decreases proportionally with the advent of the summer solistice here on the Hellmouth.” She glanced at Riley. “What? What?”

“You really need that summer break, Buffy.”

“Which is why I’m here watching movies with you. So play ‘em, mister.” Buffy patted his thigh briskly, and put her feet up on the coffee table.

**~**~**~**~**~** The End **~**~**~**~**~**