Prologue
The rain fell steadily to the earth, washing away and blending in with the tears that were streaming down over her pale face. Her blonde hair was stringy and dripping, her nose red from crying, and her mascara ran down the sides of her cheeks either from the hot tears or from the cold rain, she couldn’t tell. It was cold outside and she was in nothing but a little pink tank top and light pajama bottoms, both of which were now soaked. She shivered and wrapped her arms tight around her body, trying and failing to provide herself with comfort and warmth.
He stood in front of her in his long, leather duster and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His light hair was darkened from the rain and his face was clouded with the sadness of their situation. They were separated with three yards of light drizzle, falling down in waves between them.
Two lovers. Both alike in dignity. But unlike Romeo and Juliet, they didn’t have the luxury of dying together.
She took a step forward, hugging herself even tighter.
“This is it, then?” she whispered, her voice already hoarse from hours upon hours of crying. He nervously shifted his eyes to her front door, which was still safely shut, to her window, which was slightly open. It was early in the morning and the sky was still dark. The moon was still visible, fighting it’s daily battle with the sun.
“Seems like,” he answered her. Solemnly. Determinedly. He wouldn’t let himself cry. Not in front of her. When he was around her, he had to be strong for her sake.
“Do they know…?” she questioned. Fair question. Had he risked anything to come here? Yeah, he had, he wanted to tell her. But you’re worth it… Coming here to see her one last time. They both turned to look at the black Lincoln, waiting for him to return to it so it could take him to the airport. Away. Away from her.
He shook his head. No, they didn’t know.
“I had to,” he explained. Had to come see her. Because if he hadn’t…
“I’m glad you did,” a faint smile graced her lips for the first time in days. She took another tentative step forward. “Can you,” she looked at the ground then back up at him, “can you hold me?”
He had her in his arms before she could finish her sentence. He wrapped his duster around her small body and held onto her for his dear life. Her face was pressed against his chest and she finally allowed herself to cry freely. He ran his hands through her hair and pressed his cheek to her head.
“Shh –” he tried to soothe her, “Don’t cry, love, please don’t cry. I can’t stand it when you cry.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him as hard as she could. The rain started pouring down a little heavier and a little more insistant than it had before. Her sobs were muffled by the pounding sounds of water on the concrete driveway.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” she kissed his chest, she kissed his arms, she kissed his neck, and reached up to kiss his chin. She moved her hands to cup his face.
“And I love you,” he returned, ducking down to kiss her lips. “I’ll always love you. Forever until eternity.”
“You’ll come back?” she begged him, fresh tears showing up in her eyes. “Please, promise me?”
He held her tighter.
“You’ll still love me?”
“Always.”
He bent down to whisper in her ear.
“One year, pet,” he said in a hushed voice. “Do you remember where we met?”
She nodded against his neck and sniffed. He ran rubbed his hands along her back, trying to comfort her trembling body.
“How could I forget?” her voice was muffled. “A bookstore. Serendipity.”
“Yeah, the bookstore a block away from the Empire state building in New York,” he pulled back to hold her head in his hands and press his forehead against hers. “In one year, if you still love me… you’ll meet me there.”
He glanced up towards her house to catch a light turn on.
“This day next year?” she asked, incredulously. “You want me to meet you there?”
“Yes,” he said, pulling back and looking nervously at the light in the house. “Go there if you still love me. Noon. Meet me.”
He started backing away slowly. She held on to his hand as he moved farther away from her.
“You’ll be there?” Their fingertips were touching and he stopped walking to maintain the small contact.
“I’ll always love you, remember?” he gave her a sad smile. “Of course I’ll be there. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I love you.”
He backed away even more and made his way towards his limo.
“In a year, Summers.”
He waved and then he was gone.
Chapter 1
The overhead sky was gray, matching the glum atmosphere of the city. The tops of the buildings weren’t visible through the clouds that hung low, compressing the city sounds to a low murmur. Rain lightly danced across the slick, gray sidewalks, matching the rhythm of the hundreds of footsteps, dancing away. Stiletto heels clicked by, passing hurriedly to an overdue appointment. Boots sloshed through the shallow puddles and little sneakers splished splashed, trying to keep up with parents. Trench coats, business suits, rain jackets all blurred by as Buffy Summers squinted down at the old strip of paper she was gripping like a lifeline.
Frustrated, perplexed, and on the verge of a headache, she sighed and opened the door to the little coffee shop that she had been standing by. The bells jingled and several heads popped over open newspapers spread across coffee tables. The dimly lit shop, decorated with a mess of souvenirs from the 80’s and smelling of hot chocolate and cinnamon was a pleasant, warm contrast to the dreary cold of the outside weather. Eyes drifted back down to their reading after regarding her for less than even a split second.
“Hot chocolate… with marshmallows, please,” Buffy whispered to the lady that was taking her order. It seemed appropriate. The atmosphere in the shop begged not to be interrupted, and the jingling of the bells made her feel as if she had already intruded.
The lady slid her hot chocolate towards her and Buffy murmured her thanks. She slipped the wrinkled paper on the counter.
“Can you tell me… where to find this place?”
The lady sighed and put on the glasses that had been hanging from her neck by a chain. She picked up the paper and squinted.
“Went out of business a couple of months ago, dear,” her voice was loud and sharp. People turned their heads, annoyed. “They replaced it with a Starbucks.” She emphasized Starbucks with a tone of disgust and irritation. “I don’t like Starbucks.”
Buffy thanked her again and reclaimed the worn strip of paper. Serendipity was now Starbucks. Was that possible? Was this a sign. Maybe it was a sign. But what did it mean? She glanced at her watch:
11:29 am.
Thirty-one minutes to figure out what she was going to do next and figure out how she would find the man she loved. Two houses, both alike in dignity. There would be no Romeo and Juliet for her. She would have a happy ending. She was sure of it.
Chapter Two
11:36 am.
She dropped her empty Styrofoam cup into the little trash bin on the way out of the cozy coffee shop. Jingle, jingle, glad you stopped by. Heads peered out over their newspapers again to catch her back as she left.
The rain had stopped, but the clouds were still there, hanging around, gloomy and heavy. It seemed to be sending a silent warning to the unprepared. She tugged the ends of her coat tighter around her and looked down the busy sidewalk. The rain might have died but the traffic certainly hadn’t.
11:40 am.
She stopped in front of the glass window with a steaming cup of coffee in front of it. Out of one coffee shop, into another. The woman with the crown smiled at her, cold and calculating. Come in and have the best coffee. Give us your money, we’ll pump something up for you. Our logo is green, for your cash. She hated Starbucks.
Not because it was Starbucks, but because it had taken the place of her Serendipity. One transaction and it took over her special place. It didn’t even say sorry. Bye, bye serendipity, hello mocha frapicinos. Her special place was gone. She called it special because it meant him. And now there was the commercially advertised chain coffee shop.
She pushed the door open and stepped in. No bells rang to greet her and nobody glanced up. Nobody except the little man behind the counter. He gave her a wide smile, but his eyes didn’t mean it. They didn’t twinkle.
She asked him her question. Is this where Serendipity used to be? No need to whisper or murmer this time. The voices around her were loud and talkative. She wasn’t interrupting anything.
“Yeah, huge improvement, aint it?” The man grinned and Buffy didn’t like him.
“Vanilla Bean.”
She took a table in the corner.
It was 11:45 am.
……………………
She saw blue eyes staring back at her own green ones between the different tops of the books all lined up and the rung of the upper bookshelf. Quickly diverting her gaze, she moved down in her row.
‘Aha,’ she thought triumphantly as she snatched up the book she had been looking for. ‘Love Story’ by Erich Segal. Her favorite story.
She turned the corner and collided into a hard body.
“Oh!”
“Oy!”
Blue eyes met green. Then they shifted down to the ground where their books lay flat. Thinking the same thing, the man she had collided into bent down to pick up her book as she bent down to pick up his. Another collision occurred.
“Ow!”
“Bloody Hell!”
They rubbed their heads and smiled at each other, not sure whether to laugh or not. The man held up a hand as she started to lean forward again.
“Allow me, pet,” he grinned and picked up her book for her. “Love Story. A bit upsetting, don’t you think?”
“Not as upsetting as yours,” she nodded towards his book. Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet.
“That’s one way to put it,” he shrugged, “but as I like to see it… In my book, they get to die together. In yours, he has to live his life without his love by his side. You decide which is better.”
Point.
“Mine’s more realistic.”
“True, but mine’s more romantic.”
“But yours is brutal and heart-breaking. No chance of any happy ending there.”
He thought about it.
“Happy endings are only stories that haven’t finished yet, love.”
“I thought you were a romantic.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about me then, don’t you?”
He grinned and then asked her out for coffee.
……………………
12:14 am.
She opened her eyes with a start and widened them when she caught the time. People were still around her, chatting noisily. Did he come? Was he here? Where was he? Did she miss him? Eyes frantically darted around the room.
Stout man in a business suit. Plump woman in a too-short skirt. Teenagers in street clothes. Mother with a baby stroller. Old man with a newspaper. She stood up.
She made her way around the left side of Starbucks asking various people if they’ve seen him. Have you seen a man about this tall, bleached hair, dresses in black?
“No.”
“Sorry.”
“Hm… don’t think so.”
“I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Bleached hair? Preposterous!”
She hurried to the other side to ask the people there. Have you seen a man with prominent cheekbones, blue eyes, leather jacket?
“Not around here.”
“Sounds hot, but no.”
“One time when I lived in Mexico…”
Her hands were sweating and she wiped them on her pants as she did a last sweep of Starbucks, the commercially aided, chain coffee shop. Maybe his hair wasn’t bleached anymore. Maybe he grew taller. Maybe he’s changed a lot. Maybe he was still on London time and came twelve hours early!
Maybe… maybe he didn’t love her anymore.
The thought of that made her stop breathing and she grabbed onto a chair for support.
“Are you alright, dear?” an elderly woman asked, looking up over her bispectacles. The teenager next to her rolled her eyes and looked away. Buffy nodded her head.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She turned her head. Just then, she caught a swirl of a leather duster as the door opened and closed. She widened her eyes and ran to the door, pulling it open and landing outside. Once again, she was swarmed with people all around, left right, running to work, running late, running fast, running slow. She saw the leather billow out and ran to catch up to the man walking away.
“Spike!”
She panted and grabbed his arm, swinging him around. Her heart was pounding and her brian was dizzy.
“Is something wrong, miss?”
It wasn’t him. Just another man in a leather duster, on his way to do who-knows-what. Disappointment and tears clouded her eyes as she backed away from him.
“I-I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
Without another word, she turned her back. Not able to walk back to the Starbucks, she stumbled to her side to lean against the building to her right. There was a bench in front of her and she strode over to it and sat herself down. Many people walked past her. Some were holding hands, some were linking arms, some had an arm around their waist, around their shoulders. She closed her eyes, unable to look.
It was 12:30 am.
And he wasn’t there to meet her. He didn’t love her anymore. The tears were right there but they refused to fall.
She was spiraling down a black hole in space. For an entire year, she had been able to keep out of it in the hope that she would see him again and they would love each other just as they always had. Three hundred and sixty six days. It was a leap year. She hated it because it meant another day apart.
How could she have been so naïve? Of course he wouldn’t come.
She had known it all along.
Someone tapped her shoulder lightly.
She lifted her head up from her hands and quickly wiped at her eyes before looking up at the person in front of her.
Looking up at the person with blue eyes, smiling at her and running a hand nervously down bleached blonde hair.
“I finally found you, love.”
Chapter Three
“You’re here”
That was all she could say as she stared up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“Oh, goldilocks, did you really think I wouldn’t be?”
Yes. She thought he forgot about her.
“I can’t believe it. You’re really here.”
He knelt down in front of her and placed both hands on the bench, one hand on either side of her.
“Of course I’m here. There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”
She stared at him for another moment before it finally sank in. He’s here. He’s really here. Because he loves me.
“You love me?”
“Do you really have to ask that?”
The shock passed. She squeeled with delight and flung her arms around his neck. He picked her up and swung her around in a circle before setting her down on her feet. His hands never left her as he marveled in the sight of her. It was still hard to believe that she was right there. There in front of him, green eyes glittering and smile wild.
“You’re late,” she pouted, glancing down at her watch. “It’s almost one o’clock. You’re an hour late.”
“Am I known for my punctuality, love?”
He teased her and gave her a small kiss to her nose. She continued to pout.
“I’m happy you’re here.”
“So am I.”
“I got worried.”
“Sorry about that. There was a line at Tiffanies. Those birds are madwoman, they are. I think they have claws,” he whispered the last sentence as if he were conspiring with her and she giggled.
“They do,” she nodded. “Fangs, too.”
“I knew it. They should all be locked up and not allowed to go shopping ever again.”
She wrinkled her nose and held him tighter. His arms instinctively rubbed her back and pressed her against him. She snuggled her head into his chest and sighed in contentment.
“Never let go.”
“Not even to give you your present?”
Her smile grew wider and she leapt out of his embrace.
“Ohh!! You bought me a present!?”
He nodded. He was suddenly nervous. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Even with the women at Tiffanies beating him away from the glass displays with their umbrellas.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.
Her breath hitched into her throat and her eyes widened.
“Oh,… Spike…” she whispered and brought her hands to her mouth in amazement.
“I love you, Buffy,” his voice dropped low as well.
He went down on one knee and Buffy gasped. Slowly, he lifted the cover of the small velvet box to reviel a white gold band with a single diamond in the center.
“Buffy,” he started, staring solemnly into her eyes, “Will you marry me? Make me the happiest man on earth?”
She screamed her ‘yes’ for all the world to hear and jumped into his arms, making him topple over.
The world kept walking by, people here and there, but she didn’t notice them. All she noticed was the man in front of her and the love she had for him. Nothing else mattered.
The End.
A/N: Did you catch my Mr, & Mrs. Smith line?
Author's Chapter Notes:
Leave reviews! It's my first short fic.