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CHAPTER 19 -- Early to Bed, Early to Rise

Spike walked through the deserted office of Today’s Bride, everyone having left hours before. He’d been doing a lot of that lately --getting in early and leaving late. In a move that shocked even himself, he had turned down a couple of parties that night and a particularly promising night with Lola, January’s cover girl, a few days before.

He strolled into an empty room. In the middle of the office was a long, four legged table littered with fifty or so proofs -- all under consideration and deep scrutiny for the next issue’s cover and layouts. Spike aimlessly flipped through a couple, some of which he had taken and some not. At the sound of approaching footsteps behind him, he whipped around.

“Well, aren’t we staying a bit late?” Cordelia stood in the doorway, arms crossed and looking impressed.

Spike shrugged, tossing the proofs back onto the pile, “Thought I was the only one left. What are you still doing here?”

“Lola threw a fit this morning when her make-up wasn’t done to her liking. It was a disaster with the photographer ending up with expensive cake smeared all over his five thousand dollar camera. I stayed late to make a few phone calls to assure him everything would be replaced.”

He chuckled at the fussy model and turned back to the photographs in front of him.

Cordelia’s brow crinkled, “Weren’t you supposed to go out with Lola the other night?”

“Yeah,” Spike replied flatly.

Cordelia eyed him critically. She had noticed a difference in Spike since he returned from his little trip home. Whereas he used to come sauntering through the doors of Today’s Bride unapologetic and brash, he was now there before anyone else, flying under the radar and remaining low-key. Lately, when she heard stories about outrageous outside-the-office behavior -- it was never about Spike. Strange.

His cell phone rang. Cordelia watched as Spike retrieved it from his pocket eagerly and checked the caller ID.

Spike frowned at the phone. It was Lilah. Some late-night booty call, he imagined. Spike sighed, turned the ringer off, and hid the phone back away in his pocket.

At his uncharacteristic behavior, Cordelia had a feeling it was a girl that called him -- but not the girl he wanted. She smiled, “I saw the proofs of your shots this morning -- really hot.” She stopped behind him and whispered, “And I’m not talking about the ones of just her.” She slide an envelope over his shoulder, into his hands. He looked confused, but as she sauntered out of the room Cordelia suddenly turned back.

“Spike, just promise me something, okay?”

Spike nodded, “Sure.”

“Be careful,” she stated. “I don’t know what this whole attitude adjustment thing is about, but I’m pretty sure it’s moving towards the better. I just have a feeling that things are going to get a little messy for a while. Whoever just called is going to be mad at your rejection, and whoever you wished had called -- she probably doesn’t know you want her to. You’re life’s about to get a major face-lift -- fight for it.”

Cordelia turned and left the room.

He took a moment to take in the fashion editor’s revelations about him. He smiled, shook is head, and peeled back the fold. In the envelope were the shots he had taken of Buffy. He sifted through them, smiling at the memories of the day. He passed by the single shots of Buffy until he reached the photos of the both of them -- the ones Tara had taken of him and Buffy together. One was the two of them posed lounging on the ground, Buffy leaning back into his arms, a series of them dancing, another of him dipping her back. He continued to flip through, but stopped at a particular shot.

It was a picture of Buffy snuggled up against him, her hands balled up in his t-shirt, her eyes closed in serenity, a soft smile upon her face. She alone made it a beautiful shot, but what jarred him was the rest of the picture. His own face was cradled close to hers -- his eyes studying her ivory features. A slow smile also upon his lips. He didn’t remember this picture -- it was not one they had posed for. It was taken without either one knowing it -- completely natural.

Buffy. The smell of her perfume. Her smile. Her laugh. How cute she looked with flour on her face. All these things assaulted his senses as he stood alone, staring down into her face on the picture in front of him.

“Fuck,” he stated into the empty room. “I’m in love with her.”

TBC

Author’s Note: Spike realized his feelings -- next chapter he’s going to do something about them. Don’t miss Chapter 20 -- Pivotal Moment (Horrendously long -- four chapters in one)





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