Current Nominations:
They sat in her office at the gallery, happily munching away on Chinese food while Buffy gave Anya only the highlights of her many orgasms.
“I think I’d be in a wheelchair from all that action, girl. I am sooooo envious.” Anya sat there slack-jawed. “So you two are all made up then?”
“I forgave him if that’s what you mean.” She smiled when Anya brought over the chocolate cake William sent from yesterday. He was very sweet to remember when she’d said it was her favorite. ...I’ve memorized every second... of EVERY precious moment you’ve ever given me... His words came back to haunt her followed by their conversation from last night.
“... see him again?”
“Huh, what?” She didn’t hear the question, still too wrapped up remembering what he’d almost told her as they sat on the couch. Anya repeated the question, asking her when she planned on seeing him again. “I’m not. He’ll probably be at the party tonight, but we’re not going together. We had a long talk last night and basically,” she sighed. “He said he would be able to tell me everything about himself soon. In the meantime, we won’t be seeing each other because I need some time to think.”
“I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get?” She frowned.
“I don’t understand what you have to think about.” Sure, Buffy was in emotional turmoil over her rather ‘unique’ situation, but she could see how happy this guy made her, even if Buffy herself wasn’t willing to admit it yet. “He promised he would tell you and in my book that should be enough.”
“Anya, he’s still a prostitute, you know this. He’s in no position... I mean, it’s not fair that he’s making me...”
Anya cocked an eyebrow at her. “Did you pay him? For last night?”
“No.” Uh-oh, where was she going with this?
“And he’s not going to be working for Lorne much longer?”
“Yeeeeah.” She answered carefully.
“And Lorne said he hates being a prostitute?”
“YES,” she answered exasperated. “What’s with the twenty questions?” Anya rolled her eyes.
“Do you even like him, Buffy? I mean as a person.” She set her cake down and crossed her arms, waiting for the right moment to state the obvious.
Buffy’s expression went from irritated to surprise. What did it matter whether she liked him or not? The facts were the facts and it wasn’t fair for either of them to entertain being anything remotely close to a couple right now. “I guess so, I mean yes. He’s nice, smart, funny...”
“And you believe him; trust him that he’ll make everything crystal clear when the time is right?” Buffy nodded. “Consider the answers you just gave me and weigh that up against the fact you decided to sleep with him. Not once, but twice now and there was no money exchanged.”
“I didn’t WANT to Anya, I explained that whenever...”
“No, no-no-no.” She shook her head back and forth. “Look,” she sat up and leaned her arms on the desk. “You’re responsible for your actions, not him. If you REALLY didn’t want to... you wouldn’t have.”
“Fine, whatever. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She started clearing the leftovers from her desk.
“The Buffy I know doesn’t sleep with any man if she doesn’t want to.” She pointed a finger into her own chest. “I’m the promiscuous one here remember... not you.
At this Buffy chuckled. “I get it, okay? Yeah, it’s my own fault I slept with him. He’s hard to resist, so what?”
“Just think about what I said and give him a chance BEFORE you play judge, jury and executioner.”
That was the end of the discussion and Buffy was grateful. Yes, Anya had made a good point but she didn’t want to be dissuaded from making her own decisions. They chatted for another half hour about the party and what they planned to wear. Anya was a little too excited to meet Lorne and it made her nervous. Both she and Lorne had very strong personalities. Either they would get along famously or end up hating each other right from the start. Willow and Oz had to decline the invitation because they’d already made plans for Halloween, much to Buffy’s relief. She didn’t want to have to explain to Willow what her connection was to William should he show up tonight and decide not to leave her alone. It was bad enough that Anya was on his side and Lorne’s without adding to the peanut gallery.
When she phoned Lorne before coming into work they had a long talk. He was all with the cryptic when it came to her asking more questions about William, just as she guessed he would be, but what bothered her more was that he was on the same page as Anya when it came to his opinion.
With Anya back on the floor and Buffy’s office door closed, she relaxed into her chair with a cup of tea and a second piece of chocolate cake.
--- I wonder what costume William will be wearing tonight?
Yup, the voice of her own worst enemy, her slutty self, was back.
Doesn’t matter. I’m not planning on going anywhere near him.
--- Ouch, that’s harsh. Come on, I know you’re curious.
Let me repeat myself. Doesn’t matter. I’m not planning on going anywhere near him.
--- You’re a bitch, ya know that?
Yup.
--- A two faced bitch.
What?!?!
--- You heard me. You’re a two. Faced. BITCH!!!
I told him to go if he wanted to. Buffy defended herself. I made a very mature decision so that he didn’t have to feel like he needed to stay away but that doesn’t mean I have to talk to him.
--- How can you be like that? One moment you’re hopping in the sack with him and the next you’re back to keeping him at a distance. You need to cut him a break.
Are you by any chance related to Anya becau...
--- The bottom line is you’re being a two faced bitch by picking and choosing how to see him when it suits your mood. One minute he’s everything you ever wanted in a man and the next he’s just a whore with a big secret. You’re dragging him through a hot bed of emotional coals with no concern for how badly he gets burned.
I’m the one that’s going to get burned if I get too close and then find out I can’t accept what his explanation is for everything. I’m protecting myself.
---I get that and I agree... to an extent. He may not be perfect, may not have the perfect past but neither do you. He’s putting himself out there for you despite the circumstances, he’s willing to open himself up to you, he loves you that much. Why not wait on this ‘thinking thing’ until you have all the facts. You have feelings for him, you’ve admitted to it. If you didn’t think he was worth it, you never would have let things get this far. You need to give yourself a chance just as much as he needs you to give him one.
Buffy sat back in her chair, rubbing her temples in slow circles. She really was a bitch after all. Okay, she knew she’d acted like one towards him on more than one occasion because she apologized to him after it happened. No matter how much she argued, she knew her inner voice was right and it was a bitter pill to swallow, to admit she wasn’t being completely fair to him or herself for that matter.
He had the potential to be ‘the one’. Keep her from becoming an old maid with a hundred cats to keep her company. As she stared off into space, she tried to picture what she normally avoided thinking about... what it would be like to be married to him.
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she envisioned a wedding, their wedding. How handsome he looked in a tux, how he smiled at her with those bluer than blue eyes as he placed a band of gold on her finger and declared his undying love. She thought about what it would be like to wake up every morning with his strong arms wrapped around her and how he would make love to her every night. Fast forward two blissful years to being swollen from carrying his child and her mouth curved into a smile on its own. Yes, she could see him pampering her even more with his wonderful cooking, being right by her side as she gave birth. Maybe they could have several children, all of them blonde and beautiful... that would be nice. She saw him helping each and every one of them take their first steps, the happy expression on his face when they called out ‘Daddy’ for the first time, him sitting at the piano bench, patiently teaching them how to play as wonderfully as he did, seeing them off to school, being there to protect them during their adolescent years as they dated, threatening every last guy that came to the house asking for their daughters... Then, years down the road in their old age, he still chased her around the house, pinning her down when he’d finally caught her, tickling her till she cried with laughter then lavishing her with those amazing kisses of his...
“BUFFY!” Anya called her name for a fourth time.
“Huh? Yeah, what is it?”
“Wake up. There’s a guy out here that has some questions about the new pieces that came in a couple days ago. I don’t know much about them.”
“Oh, right. Okay, I’ll... be right out.” Wow, I must have been imagining things a little too hard. How long she sat there thinking about William she couldn’t guess, but it did feel like she’d just woken up.
Anya left after Buffy stood. Looking down at her cake, she smiled to herself. Those dreams, daydreams, whatever they were hadn’t scared her half as badly as she thought they might. Matter of fact, they filled her with something more than hope. She picked up her fork and dug into the decadent dessert. Popping the bite into her mouth, she knew she didn’t want to waste any time feeling guilty over her previous thoughts or behavior towards William. Anya was right, her inner voice was right and between them and her visions of a future with him she could see it was true... he loved her. Realizing that fact filled her with courage. Yes, she was still scared, who isn’t when they’re willing to give love a chance? But he’d done it, was doing it. He had a good heart, a very brave heart, possessing more courage than anyone she’d ever known. He loved her and there was only one thing left to do... she just had to let him.
Walking out to greet the customer Anya spoke about, Buffy decided on a last minute change of costume for tonight. However long it took William to be ready to tell her everything, she would wait. She still felt it was the right decision not to spend any time with him and most definitely not to sleep with him again until he was through working for Lorne, but she would wait.
“Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.” The British man introduced himself while extending his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. I’m Elizabeth Summers, the owner. I understand you’re interested in a particular piece?”
Throughout the pleasant conversation, Buffy learned that Wesley, as he insisted she call him, had arrived from England not too long ago to take a position at the local history museum in art restoration. She wondered if it wasn’t just William but all British men that seemed charming and handsome. She wasn’t interested in him on a personal level of course, in her mind she already had a man... or at least she would. After roughly an hour, Wesley spent a sizeable amount of cash on several pieces to help fill his new apartment. Buffy happily helped to pack the paintings he’d purchased neatly into his car. Since it was near closing time, he promised to return tomorrow for the two sculptures he also bought that wouldn’t fit properly in the vehicle without risking possible damage to the pictures.
“Miss Summers, at the risk of sounding too forward, I wondered if I might have your permission to leave you with my number? I’d like it very much if you called to join me for coffee sometime. Perhaps have another chance to discuss art?”
She didn’t want to seem rude after he’d been so nice, but she didn’t want to offer him any false hope either. So she took his card and told him she would think about it, knowing she’d never call him and threw it in the trash after he’d left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Wow, take a look at this,” Anya exclaimed, her head on a swivel to take in her surroundings.
“Ya like it? Lorne has a fabulous sense of taste.”
“Oh, the place is nice, too, I was referring to the amount of men in here though. Ahhh,” she sighed. “So many men and only one me... so sad. I suppose I’ll have to look for one in a warrior costume. Don’t want to clash or anything.”
Buffy rolled her eyes but giggled. Her friend was dressed up, wig and all as ‘Xena the Warrior Princess’. She really did look amazing, especially compared to what she herself actually wore. It didn’t matter, she was proud of her choice and it held a double meaning for her.
“Let’s go find Lorne.” She dragged Anya towards the bar, figuring it to be the most likely place he would be.
He had his back turned toward them, but she recognized his voice instantly as he ordered the familiar looking bartender, Clem, to bring out several more bottles of champagne to toast the witching hour.
She tapped him on his shoulder and quickly covered her face with her costume.
Lorne whipped around, clutching his bright purple suit jacket tightly in his fist over his heart when he recognized who stood before him.
“Oh, be still my beating heart. You are,” he went with his infamous French accent again. “But of course, a veritable vision of virginal virtuousness... you vixen you.” He lifted the veil covering her face, revealing a smiling Buffy underneath. “Mon chérie,” he sidled up against her body provocatively and ran a hand over her cheek. “I do, I do, I do.” He bent her over backwards and planted a chaste kiss to her lips.
She laughed at his antics and squealed when he suddenly picked her up and swung her around in a circle before setting her down again.
“You look liked you stepped off a silent movie screen.” She wore a simple, off the shoulder white satin wedding gown that flared out just below the knees in 1930’s fashion. An elegant scarf covered her throat with its ultra-long ends draping down her back and the sexiest little satin high-heels with wide ribbons crisscrossing up her legs, ending in a bow. Her golden locks were styled in large sweeping finger-waves with a small cluster of satin roses on her crown that held her chin length veil in place. “Stunning choice of costume, cupcake.”
“You too. Uhmm, what are you exactly?” His suit seemed pretty ‘Lorne’ standard; it was bright purple with a pale yellow shirt underneath and a giant, multi-colored silk tie to wrap up his look. But his face was painted a bright green with short red horns coming out of his forehead.
“A horny little devil.” He waggled his eyebrows at her then bowed deeply. “I am an anagogic demon. And who is this lovely creature?”
“You’re a wha... Oh, I’m sorry. Lorne, this is my dear, but rather blunt friend, Anya. Anya... Lorne.” She waved a hand between them and held her breath, waiting to see how they would get along.
“Pleased to meet you, Lorne. Buffy has told me enough about you to know that you’re most capable of many orgasms.” She smiled brightly as she held out her hand to shake his.
“Oooo, you’re a saucy one, aren’t you?” He leaned forward, taking her hand in his to kiss the top of it. “I like it. But I shan’t take advantage of such a noble warrior as yourself even if you are carrying a rather large broadsword. It’s against my faith.”
She took the coiled up leather whip off her hip and let it unfurl, then snapped it so the tip hit his shoes with a loud snap, causing him to jump while Buffy stood there, eyes big as saucers with both hands covering her mouth, horrified.
“Honey, I’m quite capable of making even YOU go against your religion.” She winked at him.
“Ooooooo, baby,” he lowered his voice and picked the end of her weapon up and dragged her to him slowly. “I think I’m in love. Come with me my spicy a-meatball, Daddy’s in the mood for some heartburn tonight.” He put his arm around her waist. “Buffy, I’m going to steal your friend for a quick dance if she doesn’t mind?” Anya nodded like a bobble–head doll.
“Uhmm, yeah. Sure.” She was sure Anya had him freaked out with her whole dominatrix-diva act, but apparently it took a lot more to scare Lorne than whips and a promise to have him steering straight. “Have fun.” They were already making their way to dance floor, not even paying attention to her.
“Can I get you something to drink, Miss Summers?”
She turned around to see Clem smiling at her. “Oh hi, Clem. Yes please. A diet coke. And add a dash of alcohol to it. Something tells me I’m going to need it tonight.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You and I need to talk.” Anya spoke as they began dancing to an upbeat tune.
“What’s on your mind, my leather wielding lioness?”
“Spike, Buffy and the green pimp before me.”
“Aaaaaah, how much did Buffy tell you?” She really hadn’t been joking when she said her friend was blunt.
“Just about everything, we girls like to talk. But there’s more to it, I can tell from the look in your eyes you know more than what you share. I have a sixth sense about people.”
“Undoubtedly.” If she wasn’t cute as a button, she’d be downright scary.
“So? What gives with this secret of Spike’s that he can’t tell Buffy about yet?”
He chuckled at her. “Between you and me, sugar-pie, I’d love to tell you but it’s not my place. All I can do is give our two lovebirds the occasional nudge. The rest is up to them.”
“So you’re not going to tell me?” She pouted and stomped her foot when he shook his head no.
Lorne looked over her shoulder in time to see Spike coming down the entranceway stairs and had an idea.
“I really can’t, BUT, that doesn’t mean the two of us can’t work together? Do a little nudging tonight, perhaps?” She brightened at this.
“What did have in mind?” She jumped up and down.
“Look over there,” he turned her around by her shoulders and pointed. “The man in question just arrived.” She turned back to face him and shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter, she won’t talk to him.”
“Why not?”
“She has this silly notion in her head that every time they get near each other they wind up having sex because she can’t resist him.”
He laughed heartily at this. “Well, this is a public establishment so it’s unlikely they’ll be having sex here. And I think it’s a perfect place to put them in a position where they’d have to talk.”
“Oh, oh, I know.” She raised her hand like a kid in a classroom. “Get them out on the dance floor.”
“Tough task. Think you can manage it?”
She wound her arms around his neck and spoke seductively, “You have no idea what I can talk a man into,” she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I can bring out the real devil in you... show him one hell of a good time.” She pressed her body close to his and hummed to the song playing in the background.
Lorne shuddered, not from what she said, but from what his empathic ability picked up in her voice.
“I believe you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike scanned the room hoping to see Buffy, but she was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t going to approach her or interfere with her fun tonight; he just wanted to lay eyes on her, he’d promised himself to leave her be. Maybe she was dressed up as something that would make her unrecognizable. He rescanned the entire club then sighed. There were too many people with masks on and other various costumes that made it impossible to tell. Since he knew she would most likely be wherever Lorne was, he gave the place another visual sweep. There he was, out on the dance floor with-with a girl wrapped up in his arms?!?!
It had to be Buffy. No way would Lorne be caught dead that close to a woman he wasn’t friends with. He skirted around the club and made it to his favorite corner table. There was a young couple occupying it, wearing the cheesiest looking coordinated costumes of cop and criminal, all over each other in a lip-lock. He pulled out a couple hundred bucks and threw it on the table, telling them to get a room. The woman snatched the money up and dragged her little boyfriend away who was whining ‘we got here first’.
Slumping down in the darkened corner, he liked the vantage point it gave him of the entire place. He fixed his focus back on his friend. Nice little outfit she had on and the... wait a minute. That wasn’t Buffy. When she turned around he knew right away. Even with the black wig and at this distance he could tell. Had Buffy decided not to come? His heart sank at the thought as he motioned to Clem behind the bar for a drink by tilting an invisible glass to his mouth.
“Hey, Spike, how’s it going?” Clem set down a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass in front of him.
“Not bad, mate, and you?”
“Eh, tips are good tonight but we sure could use more peanuts in the place. I love peanuts.” He walked away, leaving him alone with his bottle since he looked a bit moody.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, lover, time to change the beat.” She gave Lorne a quick peck on the cheek and bounded off towards the bar in search of her friend.
Lorne smiled. Yup, he was in trouble with this one but somehow, he didn’t think he’d mind it so much. He headed straight for Clem after he saw him serving Spike.
“After this song, I want you to play something slow, something sexy.”
“You got it, boss.”
As Clem set about his task, Lorne walked over to Spike’s table and turned the other chair around to straddle it, facing his friend.
“Who’s the bird, mate?” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
“Friend of a friend, a new friend of mine.” He reached across the table and took Spike’s shot glass and downed the brown liquid then set it down and lifted the bottle to pour another, shoving it in front of him.
“Friend, huh? Since when do you drink anythin’ other than fruity martinis?” He was acting odd.
“I’m in need of a little liquid courage, tonight.” He laughed when Spike frowned at him, clearly confused.
“Ya don’ say.” Very odd, indeed.
“Drink up; I’d like you to meet the future Mrs. Deathwok.”
Spike downed his glass and stood, following his friend to the bar.
Meanwhile, Anya went to the ladies room to find Buffy busy trying to fix her veil back into place.
“Here, let me help.” She took over and clipped the roses firmly back into her hair then told her to hurry back to the bar so they could do a shot together before she danced some more.
“We’re back.” Anya found Lorne and Spike both sitting at the bar as planned, though Spike had yet to turn and look her way. “Time to dance, my little green meanie.” She winked at Lorne as a slow song started when he cued Clem after seeing the girls come towards him.
“Spike!” He slapped his friend on the back and waited till he looked up. “This is Anya.”
“Nice to see you again.” She smiled brightly at him.
“Again?” She looked familiar but he couldn’t place the face.
“I hate to steal Lorne away, well, actually I don’t. But he owes me a dance. You should dance with my friend.” She turned around to find Buffy walking towards her, unaware. She stepped to the side so Spike could see her then took Buffy by the arm and pushed her to the forefront. “I told Spike you would dance with him.”
“Y-you wha...”
“Come on, Lorne.” Anya dragged him towards the dance floor after putting the blonde couple face to face and prayed the plan would work.
Spike started with a high pitch whistle then brought it down several octaves, ending it by mouthing the word ‘wow’ as he took in the appearance of the blonde goddess before him. She looked absolutely stunning in the vintage wedding dress. He felt like he should be on bended knee right now in front of her. “You look amazin’,” he all but whispered, taken aback by her beauty. He wondered if she would consider wearing it when they got married. Marriage. Her. Him. The idea took over his imagination as he pictured it, of her walking down the aisle looking as beautiful as she did right now, taking his last name with a smile on her face and wearing it with pride. Mrs. Elizabeth Anne Ivanhoe. Yes, it had a nice ring to it. Ring. Oh he would definitely buy her the largest diamond ever so there was no doubt when people looked at it, they would know she belonged to him and how much he loved her.
She blushed and turned her face away from him. “Thanks. It was my mother’s wedding dress. I sorta thought it might make a nice costume.” He didn’t respond right away so she glanced back to find his head tilted to the side, studying her with a far-off look in his eyes as if he wasn’t even listening to her. She cleared her throat gently and he snapped out of it instantly. “I think we just got the set-up.”
“Looks like.” He looked down at the ground while shoving his hands in his pocket. “You don’ have to dance with me if you don’ want to, luv. I understand. Your friend obviously doesn’ know `bout us and `m sure she jus’ meant well.”
“Look, I’m sorry but...” She stopped mid-sentence when he looked down at the ground defeated, nodding his head to her as he toed the ground like a child. He looked like a sad, kicked puppy and coupled with the way he’d said it, made her feel guilty. A couple seconds ticked by before she decided to hell with it. She felt a little more bold from her rum and coke and thought, what could it hurt? He had to keep his hands to himself and even if he didn’t, it’s not like they could do anything since they were in public.
“Actually, I’d love to dance with you.” She suppressed a smile when he looked up at her in surprise. “But you have to promise, PROMISE me that you’ll keep your hands above my waist and your mouth to yourself.” She couldn’t help giggling the second he got that familiar cocky look on his face. Yeah, she could get use to that for the rest of her life.
A/N: I hope everyone has a wonderful and relaxing Sunday. Hugs and kisses.