"Yeesh. That much of a lady killer, huh?"

Buffy leaned over nosily, trying to get all up in his business, and also the oven's. But not in a Sylvia Plath way. "Maybe I'll send him like... I dunno. Pizza, instead. Then he'll really never figure it out." She couldn't stop smiling. Talking like this with him, about playing a joke on his brother... It felt so normal.

She liked normal.