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Betting Pool

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"You know they've got a betting pool going about us, don't you?" A slim blonde eyebrow arched across the dining hall table as she waggled her fork at her dinner partner, carefully so as not to lose the bit of chicken she'd just speared with it. The answer was an upturn of lips, a practiced smirk, and a matching eyebrow.

"Oh do they?" Except that, her tone was smug, and all but screaming that of course she was aware, and was probably egging them on without any of them even realizing it. She chuckled easily, leaning forward to nick the bite from Buffy's fork, and the movement was slow, sensual, her cheeks hollowed in an obscene mimicry of sucking at the fork, and somewhere behind them a crash of plates sounded. River leaned back casually, unblushing. "I hadn't noticed."

"Uh huh." Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled her fork back, spearing another piece of chicken, this time from River's plate, and eating it herself before the other woman could get any more ideas for tormenting their fellow students. "Is that why you're wearing my perfume?" The look she gave her curly-haired terror of a roommate was challenging, especially since the other woman hadn't been wearing that perfume when they left for class that morning. In fact, she hadn't been wearing Buffy's perfume until about an hour ago, after the pair of them had stopped by their suite to grab a few things before dinner. River gave the blonde her version of an innocent look, which looked about as far from innocent as could possibly be put into words.

"I must have grabbed the wrong bottle," she breezed, and picked a chunk of chicken with her own fork, giving a repeat performance for anyone still watching. Off to one side, there was another crash that both women promptly ignored.

"And somehow I don't believe you. Not for the first time." Snorting with amusement, the diminutive slayer stabbed at the last few pieces on her plate. "You're just lucky your name isn't Pinocchio, or your nose would reach the other side of the galaxy by now."

"I rather resent that remark, dear heart." Amusement, and then River's fork was stealing the last bite from Buffy's plate, and the blonde pouted. And she'd be darned if the sly woman hadn't already finished her own food. No fair.

"I think resemble would be the better word, River." Another show with the fork and her cheeks. Another crash somewhere out of sight. Also ignored. "Especially when you torment them like that. Have you ever considered just telling every-"

"Now, now, Buffy, where would the fun in that be?" And then River was standing, giving the younger woman an elegant look that all but commanded her to come along, and moving away from the table. With a long suffering, amused sigh, Buffy followed, catching up within a moment and walking in stride. She wasn't at all surprised when a hand found its way to her butt as they walked. The doors to the dining hall slid shut behind them, almost silencing the sound of a final crash somewhere inside.