“You did great out there so don’t get all nervous now,” he warned her.
Now? He tells me not to worry now? After all that talk in the limo? she thought. Well then, she decided I could be an actress if I fooled him into thinking that was easy.. Truthfully, it was daunting to say the least. She felt as if everyone had been staring at her, sizing her up and judging her. The fact of the matter was though; no one gave two craps about her. Well, they were curious, but the person they wanted to know about was Spike. They might be curious as to whom the new arm candy was, but they wanted to hear it from him, not from her. Somehow, being the “arm candy” made it that much harder. She couldn’t put her two cents in and show what a smart woman she was. All she could do was smile and nod. The feelings were contradictory at best. On the one hand she felt safe not having to say anything and essentially being a “nobody”, and on the other hand, she felt even more on display being a “nobody” and felt as though she were being judged harsher because of it. She was a peasant and Spike was the Prince.
It was absolutely ridiculous, and she was putting entirely too much thought into it she decided as Spike was given their seating plans. She just needed to relax as Spike had suggested and just enjoy herself. Besides, this night was not about her and it wasn’t about him. It was about raising money for AIDS. Getting in charity mode, Buffy took a deep calming breath and took in the area around her as Spike led them to their table.
“Wow,” she breathed. The place was gorgeous, no doubt about that. The room was large and bright, with enormous and ornate bouquets of flowers dispersed throughout the room in what appeared to be oversized Grecian urns. The floor was a smooth Rosetta tile and the walls a smooth cream. Beyond what appeared to be a makeshift stage at the far end of the room, was a veranda, and before the stage was where the dancing was to take place. She was so going to have to check out the veranda later. Tables, covered with maroon tablecloths and vases filled with rich red roses were scattered all over the room, and before the extremely fragile and gorgeous china were AIDS awareness ribbons made into pins.
“You all right?” Spike asked, stopping to study her.
“Yeah huh.”
“Buffy, close your mouth.”
She clamped her mouth shut and looked up at him. “Sorry. That was uncouth of me wasn’t it?”
He smiled gently, “I’m sorry. This is your first time at something like this. I’m used to coming with women that have that ‘been there, done that’ attitude to events and places like this.”
“I’m sure a few more of these under my belt and I’ll feel the same way, but for now, I can’t help but gawk. This place is gorgeous!”
Reaching out, he tucked some curls behind her ear. “No, I don’t want you to be world weary like them.” He looked around, “This place isgorgeous. Maybe tonight I can try my hand at seeing this all through your eyes.”
“Does that mean we’ll sneak off later to check out the veranda?” she asked mischievously.
“Of course.”
It was with great pleasure that they were being seated with one of Spike’s co-starts, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and, accompanying Wesley was Winifred, or, Fred as she was often called for short. Buffy had had the pleasure meeting Wesley and his wife before and thought them to be wonderful, down-to-Earth people she knew. Both of them would give the shirts off their backs to anyone they cared for. Buffy was sure that from Fred she could learn a lot about being the significant other to a celebrity. Part of it seemed to be taking it all in stride, which Buffy felt, she was doing a stand up job of so far.
While the four exchanged hugs and pleasantries, another couple joined their table and something about the woman in that pair made Buffy’s radar go off like the bell on a trolley. She was just. . . dark. That was the only way to describe it really. She had dark wavy hair, dark eyes that were outlined by black eye makeup and she had ruby red lips that contrasted seductively against her pale skin. She wore all black as well, her gown floor length and sleek. She smiled at Spike upon approach as if she knew him...in the biblical sense. Buffy watched and waited, giving no indication that she felt the need to drape herself around Spike so that the dark temptress knew he was taken. She eyed the woman’s date, checking for signs of jealousy or uneasiness. There were none, in fact, the strapping young pup’s eyes darted about the place as if he’d rather be wandering the huge ballroom instead of being by the woman’s side.
“Well, hello there handsome,” the woman purred and sauntered over to him.
Spike cleared his throat and turned to her, “Hello Faith. How are you?”
She smiled brilliantly. “I’m good now.”
“Whose your date?” Spike asked.
Faith frowned slightly, “His name’s Warren. And who is this?”
Buffy didn’t like the way Faith looked at her, as if she were a peon and should bow down before her.
Before Spike could say a word, Buffy held out her hand, “I’m Buffy, Spike’s girlfriend. And you are?”
“You don’t know who I am?” Faith asked, her ruby red lips turning up into a sneer of disgust.
“Well, I wouldn’t have asked if I knew... “ Buffy replied smoothly, trying to keep the patronizing tone down to a minimum.
Faith narrowed her eyes. “I’m from the show Vixens. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Buffy shrugged, playing non chalance. She had heard of it, but she wasn’t going to tell Faith she had.
“You’re his girlfriend?” Faith laughed. “Is that what he calls you or what you call yourself?”
Buffy was ready to go off on the girl, her fingers curling into fists as Spike took hold her arm, holding her back. “That’s what I call her, Faith.” Spike said firmly. “I’ve known Buffy for a long time now. She’s my best friend.”
Faith snorted, “Of course she is.”
“Well then, why don’t we sit?” Wesley interrupted gallantly. “Shall we?” he said, gesturing to the table.
Thankful for that, Buffy smiled at Spike with fire in her eyes as he pulled out her chair for her. He smiled back reassuringly and kissed her cheek as she sat down, whispering in her ear. “I love you.”
It worked like a charm. Instantly, she relaxed.
Later when the speeches had been made and the first course had been brought round, Buffy excused herself along with Wesley to answer the call of nature. She only went because if she didn’t, she’d piddle all over the rug. Wouldn’t that have been something?
The thing was, leaving Spike with Faith was the last thing Buffy wanted to do. She took comfort in the fact that Fred was sitting with him, and he was in a room full of people that would – what? Tell her if something happened?
God, she hated herself for even having those doubts about his fidelity. He loved her. He loved her. He wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t cheat on her. He wasn’t that type of guy. . . except that evidence had proven he was that kind of guy. He’d cheated on Sam and well, others. This was different though. This was different because he loved her. He loved her.
And isn’t that what all women told themselves? It was the same old song and dance wasn’t it? ‘Oh he’d never…’ ‘He wouldn’t even look at another woman’ ‘He changed for me because he loves me.’
She shook her head; she had to stop this train of thought. It wasn’t healthy. Her stream of consciousness would only lead her down a bad path of mistrust and doubt.
“Buffy, you all right?” Wesley asked as he led her to the bathroom. She was really getting tired of having to be ‘led’ everywhere.
“I’m fine, I’m just – uh, Wesley?”
“Hmm?”
“Were Faith and Spike…that is, did they…I mean I never heard of them together…”
“They were never together.”
Buffy’s eyes widened. “How is that possible?”
Wesley laughed loudly before answering. “Spike refers to Faith as a preying mantis. I believe he’d been afraid that if he were to involve himself with her, she’d suck the life right out of him. She’s got an even worse reputation than he does. She’s got a tremendous jealousy streak and considers anyone she’s interested in as hers. She’s quite scary, I hear.”
“Great,” Buffy muttered.
“Not to worry, Buffy. Spike wouldn’t let her hurt you.”
“Well, if she tried, I’d concern myself over her instead of me.”
Again, Wesley laughed out loud before the split ways to enter their respective bathrooms.
Coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Buffy found Wesley in the small hallway the bathrooms were in studying the floor in great interest.
”Wes? What are you doing?”
“My damn cufflink fell off and without my glasses, I cannot see at all,” he replied, aggravated.
“I’ll help...and why do you not have your glasses?”
“My publicist tells me I’m found more desirable this way. Like I care ...I’ve got a wife! However, it’s all for the good of the show and my so-called career.”
Buffy grinned. This was why she loved Wesley. He didn’t care for appearances and the ‘game’. He just wanted to do his job and be done with it. She wished Spike could have met him when he was first starting out, maybe things would have been different having another perspective on things.
Combing the patterned carpet with her eyes, Buffy spotted it right by Wesley’s foot. “Don’t move!” she nearly shouted. “I see it!”
“Where?” Wesley asked as Buffy rushed over.
“Right by your foot,” she told him and bent down to grab it in front of Wesley who was bending as well. “I got it!” she told him and grasped it in her hand, starting to unbend herself when, right out of a slapstick comedy, a curly ringlet got caught on the button of his pants. How in the freaking hell did that happen? she wondered.
Wesley froze. “Buffy?”
“I’m stuck,” Buffy said, trying to yank her hair out.
“Interesting,” someone muttered behind them.
Looking up, Buffy was blinded by a camera flash.
“Hey!” Wesley and Buffy both shouted as the camera girl took two more photos.
“Oh crap,” Buffy muttered as the girl ran off.
“Buffy, what in the hell are you doing?”
Spike.
Looking up as best she could, Buffy donned a fake grin. “Hi honey!”