She watched as he eyed the light socket, pouting at the implication his eyes made. Like she would ever had thrown her rave in the kitchen. The living room had been a much more appropriate space; besides, she had already swept up the broken glass and had replaced the bulb with a new one. It had been on her trip to find a replacement that she had found the pizza treats. The only evidence left was the fact that the broom had not been put away. As the two spoke in the kitchen, the broom was haphazardly thrown across the couch. The dustpan was wedged between two cushions. If anyone asked, she would claim innocence and that she was only trying to offer a helping hand around the house.

But now, they were on to radios. Radios? Primitive? Buffy had known that iPods were coming to favour around the time she had been yanked rudely out of her own existence and into this one, but she was hard pressed to imagine a world without radio. How else would any self-respecting hip individual learn that week's top tunes? Her indignation was clearly cleared away as the chess set was pulled into view.

An eyebrow rose, quirkily. All this fanfare for a nerd's game. She leaned forward from her seat on the counter, anchoring her elbows on her knees. "Six tiers? What are you talking about--some kinda chess themed wedding cake?" She teased only lightly; after all, she could see how sunny the board seemed to make McCoy look. And that meant so much to her that she could suppress any flippant chess club comments.