Driving Force
“I still don’t see why I can’t drive us!” Dawn complained.
“Two words Dawn, traffic ticket.” Buffy said distractedly as she searched through the small blue purse she was carrying. Pulling her keys out she continued, “A two hundred and twenty-five dollar traffic ticket that I had to pay for because somebody spent almost her whole allowance on an outfit that, by the way, you are not going to wear in public till after I’m dead… again.”
Inwardly chuckling, the Wiccan glanced at her watch. ‘As much fun as this is, if I don’t nip it in the bud now, we are really gonna be late.’ With a sigh, she said, “I’m driving. We’re late and I want us to get there in one piece, not be the gory footage on the nine o’cl
ock
news.”
Buffy whirled, about to give her girlfriend the Slayer Death Glare, only to be pulled up short as she saw that the Rosenberg Resolve face was firmly in place.
‘Crap.’ Meekly, she handed over the keys.