On the drive back to his apartment, William had time to think. And the more he thought about what had happened, the worse he felt. He didn’t blend Spike’s better attributes with his own; he’d allowed him to take over completely in a fit of jealousy.
Walking into his place, he threw his things to the side and quickly headed for bed. He wasn’t sure if he would get any sleep and he probably could use a drink, but decided against it. As he stripped off his clothes, he could still hear her voice in his head, ‘I’m your girl’. It was all he wanted to hear at the moment, all Spike wanted to hear. Now, however, he worried that his verbal demand for her to say it, that his possessive actions may have very well pushed her too far.
Now lying in bed, his mind ran over every detail, a minute by minute dissection of what happened. He should have handled things differently. Should have, but didn’t. The look on Buffy’s face afterwards... he couldn’t forget how confused she’d look or how quiet she’d been. True, she’d given him hope that they would see each other again, but she wouldn’t even look at him until the very end of their conversation.
He would figure something out, figure out a way to make up for however he and Spike had made her feel. He would give her space, but he was determined to not let her forget about him either.
Arghhh. He rolled over and looked at the alarm clock, 3AM. Four hours had passed and he still couldn’t sleep. Sitting up and reaching for his phone, he dialed his friend’s number.
“Spike, my man, how’s it going? Little late for you to be calling, isn’t it?”
“Can’ sleep, mate. Ran into Buffy tonight at the same club where Faith met with her client.”
“Really?” Not something Lorne had thought would happen, but Buffy did say she would be out celebrating her birthday. “From the sound of your voice I gather things didn’t go well between you two?”
“Not at all.” He paused, wondering how much he should tell Lorne about what went down.
“Listen. I consider Buffy a good friend of mine now, as good a friend as you are to me; so if you need my help or just an ear then you have to tell me exactly what happened. I care about the both of you and want nothing more than to see you two together... okay?”
It took William nearly fifteen minutes to give Lorne the full run down from the time Buffy approached him at the bar. By the time he finished, there was such a long pause on the other end of the line that he thought they’d been disconnected.
“Lorne? You still there, mate?”
“Yeah.”
More silence. William began to feel uncomfortable. Lorne never lacked for something to say so it unnerved him when he still hadn’t spoken a word.
“I know she wants time, but I need to do somethin’... anythin’ so she knows...”
“I understand why you did what you did and said what you said, but your behavior was beyond reckless and probably did more damage than good. You just may have driven her further AWAY from rather than closer to you. Let’s set aside the fact you should have known better when it comes to Angelus and you LET him push your buttons,” sighing heavily he continued, “I never thought I’d hear myself say this but... you couldn’t have acted more like an ass if you tried.”
“I know, I-I... I want, no, NEED to make it up to her. God, what did I do?” He was exasperated. He deserved the tongue lashing he was getting from Lorne, he knew that, but there had to be something he could do to make things right again.
“You’re lucky she didn’t tell you to shove off before she left. THAT, my friend, is your only saving grace. Did you know it was her birthday?”
“WHAT?!?! It was her birthday? Please tell me... wait. Did you know she was goin’ to be at that club tonight, while I was there?”
“No, or else I would have given you fair warning. What’s worse is now I regret not accepting her invitation to join her and her friends. If I’d been there, I might have been able to prevent all this from happening.”
To say William felt even more like the shit-head was an understatement. He’d buggered things up good and ruined his girl’s birthday.
“What do I do?” He was desperate now.
“Just leave her alone like she wants. You can’t go stalking her or you’ll only scare her, possibly drive her off for good. In the meantime I’ll see if I can talk to her before the Halloween bash, see if she’ll sing me a tune. She’ll be coming to The-Hide-Away that night. You might be able to ma...”
“No. There has to be somethin’ I can do between now and then. If I don’, `m afraid she’ll have too much time to think, that... that I’ll lose her.”
Lorne knew that his friend had a point, but he didn’t want him to make things worse either. If he didn’t offer some kind of advice, William would only take it upon himself to do something that could end all chances he might still have with Buffy.
“Okay. Since Buffy is kind of an old fashioned girl, here’s what I think you should do...”
William listened intently and agreed with Lorne’s idea, hoping the plan would work. If it did, then maybe they could go back to where they were... days ago... when she was laughing and enjoying his company at her house.
“I still say you need to tell her what’s going on with the restaurant, your new position with me as a bodyguard, that...”
“Can’ do that. She deserves to know, but not now, not until I have everythin’ set straight in my own life.”
Lorne argued with him again on this point, but it fell on deaf ears. In William’s mind, once he secured himself an honest living by owning Grisanti’s, one with which he had something to offer Buffy as a means of stability for a future together, then she didn’t need to hear the details of his sordid struggle. She may not understand.
After hanging up the phone it was nearly four thirty in the morning. Since he couldn’t sleep, he decided to go online and find a shop in her area that would help set his plan into motion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy went to the gallery two hours early, immersing herself in work in an effort to forget about last night and her restless attempts at sleep. Every time she managed to drift off, Spike was there to greet her in her dreams. William had been there too, as a separate entity though. She’d argued with both of them, tried to physically run away but it didn’t work. One moment she was back up against the wall with Spike taking her hard, the next she was dancing with William at the music festival as if all was right in the world. By the time five o’clock rolled around she was both exhausted and wound up from the dreams and her own emotions.
Making a fourth cup of coffee for herself, she heard Anya’s footsteps come down the hall and directly into her office.
“Wow! You look like shit, Buffy.” Anya could see the dark circles under her friend’s eyes.
“Gee, thanks.”
“So I take it everything’s alright again with this Spike guy since you look like you got no sleep?” She thought for sure they’d talked things out and had gone somewhere for makeup sex.
“Uhmm, yes and no. Not exactly either... I guess. I don’t know.” She slumped back into her chair and hung her head. “He, well...”
“Want to talk about it?” When Buffy looked up at her she could tell it was a ‘no’, but that didn’t stop her from pursuing the issue this time. She’d never seen Buffy so upset over a man. Normally when she had guy problems, she just gave them the boot and that was that. Here sat a woman she’d never seen before, a woman who she was sure had to be in love. Of course her friend would never admit that, so she felt it was her duty to get her talking. If she had found love with this guy, she would finally be happy and let go of her past.
“Look. I know what I saw last night and judging from everything you did, you’re in love. I mean, you purposely made the poor guy jealous. THEN, you had the nerve to slap him.”
“I had the nerve?” She pointed to herself. “You don’t know what he said. He deserved it.” Now she was getting mad. She shouldn’t have to defend herself, especially to a friend. Anya wasn’t there to hear the conversation; she had no right to judge her behavior towards Spike.
“Maybe so. But if you hadn’t danced with Mr. Tall, Dark and Creepy, then he may not have said anything.” She sat down on the couch opposite Buffy’s desk and crossed her arms over her chest, daring her to deny the truth behind her words.
“I... okay, say you’re right...”
“I am. YOU know I am.”
Admitting that she may have provoked Spike into making that crude statement was a hard pill to swallow. She didn’t force him to say it, but she did create a situation for it to happen... to an extent. He apologized for it too, a genuine apology. After he explained to her that he wasn’t there with that woman, her guilt had doubled.
“It’s obvious that he cares for you, Buffy or else he wouldn’t have knocked out the guy you were dancing with then come running after you. I assume he found you?”
Buffy looked up, surprised. “He knocked Angelus out? Oh my God!” She covered her face with both hands. “Yeah, he found me alright. Apologized. Explained why he was there, but then...” Looking up at her friend, she knew she should tell her the truth about how she met Spike. Maybe then, Anya’s opinion would be different. “Look. There’s something about him that you don’t know. Something that...”
They were interrupted by a knock on her door.
“Yes?” They both spoke at the same time.
A young man opened the door with a long, thin box under one arm, saying he’d been directed back here by another employee to deliver a package. Once he’d left, Anya was hanging over Buffy’s shoulder, eager to see what was inside.
Opening the lid, Anya gasped while Buffy merely frowned. Inside were three purple hyacinths with a white ribbon tied around them and a card with Buffy’s name on it.
Anya snatched the card up and opened it, reading aloud.
“Forgive me. Yours, William.”
“Awwww, how sweet,” she gushed. “And, very fitting too. These flowers stand for forgiveness. He must really care about you. Why would a man do this...” she sneezed, “If he already,” she sneezed again, “Apologized?”
“I guess so.” She sighed. It was very touching of him to send... wait a minute. How did he know where to send these? She hadn’t told him where she worked. It took a minute, but it dawned on her that she did tell him about inheriting her mother’s business and then explained that her mother taught her about each painting that came through the gallery. He must have put two and two together. Hers was the only art gallery in Sunnydale, so it made sense.
“You should put these in water, they’re,” she sneezed twice more, “Lovely, but keep them away from me.” She sneezed three more times before informing Buffy. “There’s something about flower pollen that makes me sneeze uncontrollably.”
Anya left the office while Buffy went to find a glass to place the flowers in. Forgetting about their conversation, she dove back into work, going over the inventory and sales during the time she’d been away. When it neared 10:30 AM, she decided to take a break and left her desk before having to sit back down to do payroll.
“So what is this thing about your man that I should know?”
“Huh?” Buffy completely forgot she was going to let Anya in on her secret. “Oh, that. Right. Okay, he’s a...”
She clammed up the minute the same delivery boy came into view, carrying a box identical to the one he’d brought in about an hour ago.
Anya squealed when Buffy opened the box to reveal three more hyacinths, but this time they were yellow. Again, Anya opened the card up and read it out loud.
“Please? Yours, William.” Anya backed away as her sneezing started up again. “That color means jealousy. The man sure did his homework.”
Buffy didn’t respond. She just took the flowers back to her office and placed them alongside of the purple ones in the glass. It was very sweet of William to do this, but she’d told him she needed time. Sending her flowers was not something that was going to help her think things through. Shaking her head and chalking it up to guilty feelings on his behalf, she moved the flowers away from her desk. Out of sight, out of mind. Deciding it was best to delve back into work, she decided to wait until lunch to tell Anya about Spike’s profession.
An hour later, Anya came bursting into her office.
“I don’t know what happened between you two, but you really need to cut the guy a break. Look at this.” She came over and plopped three boxes down on her desk. One, which was already opened, contained more flowers. The other two remained untouched. Anya held up the card to read it before Buffy grabbed it away from her.
“Do you mind?” she asked annoyed.
“Of course not,” she replied cheerfully. “So read it to me.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. She might just as well. “I’m willing to grovel. Yours, William.” She tossed the card aside to look at the flowers.
“Those are camellias. The color blue means you’re a flame in my heart. Open the next box. Hurry! The anticipation is killing me.” She was dancing on the balls of her feet in between sneezes.
Buffy looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. “No offense, but you’re not that smart, so how do you know what all these flowers mean?” She watched her friend shrug.
“I fucked a florist once. Maybe something stuck. Acheww!”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“It was also the reason I dumped him. He was always covered in pollen. Acheww!”
There was a card on top of the larger of the two remaining boxes. Pulling it out from the envelope, she read it to herself. ‘I wished I had known’. She didn’t quite know what to make of it. Handing the card over to Anya who was waiting with an open hand, she opened the box to reveal her favorite dessert from Grisanti’s, an entire 'Chocolate Decadence Cake'. On top were the words ‘Happy Birthday’ written in calligraphy with red frosting.
“Wow! He’s a day late but it looks yummy.”
Buffy ignored her and opened the smaller box. In it was a small container which she lifted out, noticing how warm it was to the touch. The chocolate sauce, of course.
“I’ll go get some plates and forks.” Anya walked off, leaving Buffy to read the note that was taped to the inside of the lid of the box.
Please call me. I need to hear your voice, 555-2344.
Anya set everything down on the desk and read the card over Buffy’s shoulder. “Okay, unless you’re a total bitch, I’d call him, acheww, right now. He’s gone to an awful lot of trouble to make up for whatever else he may have done. Acheww!”
“Not gonna happen. I told him I needed time to think. And this,” she waved her hands towards the gifts, “is not helping.” Anya sliced into the cake and dished up two pieces. “Here.” Buffy handed her the sauce. “This goes on top.” She enjoyed the aroma of the melted chocolate and watched her pour a generous amount onto their plates while talking away.
“What’s there to think about? So he messed, acheww, up somehow, so what? He’s spending his hard earned money, acheww, on you and you won’t even call him? That’s just rude, even for you.” She watched as Buffy started chuckling wryly. “What the, acheww, hell is wrong with you?” She shoved a bite of the dessert into her mouth.
“Spending his hard earned money? Anya, the man sleeps with women. For money. As in for a living.”
Anya immediately put her next forkful of cake down, clearly shocked.
“He’s a prostitute?”
“Escort is the preferred term. He’s supposedly only doing it to make money for some, I don’t know... goal of his or something.” Buffy shook her head and continued laughing while shoving the cake aside. She’d lost her appetite the second Anya mentioned he must be spending a lot of money on her. The same money he earned for sleeping around. The more she thought about it, the more it turned her stomach. Picking up the flowers, she headed for the trash and threw them in.
“What are you doing?” Anya marched right over and picked them out of the garbage and placed them in with the rest of the flowers, sneezing the whole time.
“Did you NOT hear what I just told you? The money he spent was probably earned from, from... you know.” She watched as Anya went to the door and hollered out to Warren, their receptionist, to stay up front and answer all phone calls until she came back out ‘from a meeting’. After shutting the door, she came to sit on the couch with a determined look on her face.
“Out with it. ALL of it.” She sat tapping her fingers on the arm of the couch and jiggled the leg she crossed over the other knee.
It took a little over two hours between all the questions Anya interrupted her with and her constant sneezing. During that time, two more deliveries of flowers had arrived. Anya told her the meaning behind the flowers and of course read the notes out loud. The first read ‘Please, baby? Call me.’ The second read ‘The flowers are just going to keep coming’. By the time 2:30 rolled around, Buffy was exasperated with both Anya and William.
Her friend defended him every time she tried to give reasons as to why she should be upset with him, shouldn’t call him, shouldn’t feel anything for him... She ran out of things to say and sat there, frustration written all over her face.
“It’s clear to me you two are in love. If you could just get over yourself and your insecurities for two seconds, you’d see that. I don’t know why he won’t tell you anything about his other job or this goal and what not, and though I think he should I’m sure he has his reasons. Take a look at all these flowers, the cake, the facts surrounding this past weekend... you’re choosing to turn a blind eye on everything he’s done right for everything that’s wrong, whether real or perceived.”
“It’s not that simple, Anya.”
“Yes, it is. You’re the one complicating things.”
The arguments continued until Buffy’s head felt like exploding from a full blown migraine. A knock came to the office door and Anya opened it to reveal the now familiar delivery guy. She politely took the flowers and was about to close the door when Buffy stood up straight.
“Stop right there,” she barked harshly. They both froze in place. “I want to know the address of where all these flowers are coming from. RIGHT. NOW.”
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am. Even i-if I had that information, I’m not allowed t-to give it out.” The poor boy stuttered he was so nervous.
“This is ridiculous. I WON’T have my place of business interrupted any more than it already has today so I suggest you find a way to get it.”
He repeated himself and apologized as politely as he could until Anya held up a hand to each of them.
“Let me handle this.” And with that, she led the young boy out of the office and closed the door behind her. Less than five minutes later, she returned holding a piece of paper with a bright smile on her face. “I got Spike’s address.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I promised him lots of orgasms. Sex is a very useful bargaining tool,” she said nonchalantly.
“Why do I even bother asking? Never mind, hand it over.” She took it from her and read the address. Good, it should only take me about thirty minutes to get there. He lived surprisingly close. She would have thought he resided in LA, but instead it was the next town over.
“What are you going to do?” Anya felt a little nervous for Spike now, thinking she should have held out on giving her his address. Buffy looked ready to tear someone limb from limb.
“I’m putting a stop to this nonsense, that’s what!” She grabbed her coat and purse, ignoring Anya when she mentioned she could just call him since she had his phone number. “Trust me. He needs to have this spelled out for him. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.” She cut any further protests off by interrupting. “Just watch the gallery for me, I’ll be back tomorrow.” She grabbed the flowers from out of the glass and strode out of the building, throwing them into the backseat of her car before driving off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’d given the florist shop instructions to keep sending flowers every hour until they heard from him to stop. It was killing him that Buffy hadn’t called yet. He really thought she would have by now, and it worried him that maybe she was at home rather than work. No, someone at her business would have called to let her know about the deliveries so he dismissed the thought. He’d even made her favorite cake and drove it over as carefully as possible on his motorcycle so they could deliver it around lunch time. What if she decided she couldn’t, wouldn’t forgive him?
He didn’t have to work today and did everything he could to keep his mind off expecting the phone to ring... cleaning, reading, watching TV... When the clock neared 5PM, he was beside himself. If she didn’t call by six, he didn’t know what more he could do, if anything.
Sitting down to the piano, he was about to start playing when the phone suddenly rang. He raced to get to it, answering with a desperate tone.
“Buffy?” He listened in, feeling miserable when it was the florist shop in Sunnydale saying they were about to make their last delivery for the day. “Yeah, I understand. Thanks.” As soon as he hung up the doorbell rang. The only people that ever came to his apartment were Lorne or Oz. And since he knew where they both currently were, his only thought landed on Jehovah’s Witness. Stupid wankers, always showin’ up `round dinner time.
Flinging the door wide open, there stood the last person he expected to see.
A/N: Okay, time to feed the muse, he’s an active critter but has a ravenous appetite.