It was just Buffy and her mom tonight, and after dinner, while they were clearing dishes, Joyce made the mistake of asking, "Any plans for the night? I was thinking we could rent something old and classic."
Buffy replied with a little noise of protest and elaborated, "I have to go out and patrol. Things usually start picking up right about now. I should be all prepared and stuff."
"You could not sound less enthusiastic if you tried."
"I just got used to taking it a little easy this summer, is all," Buffy whined.
"No one's making you go, Buffy," Joyce pointed out.
"I know, but if I don't, Giles will get that look."
"That look?"
"You know, that look." And Buffy tried to imitate it. Badly. It lacked something without the glasses and Britishness.
"I think Sunnydale will be safe if you take a night off."
She wished. How many apocalypses had they had lately? "No, I should go," Buffy said, trying to drop the whininess. "Tell you what. How about I compromise like a grownup. I will go for a while, and if the world doesn't end, I'll come back early and we'll have movietimes."
"That sounds like a plan," Joyce agreed.
"But that means I should probably go now, which means I don't have time to do the dishes..."
"Now you're pushing it."