The kettle on top of the stove began to boil as Buffy spooned Italian roast into the coffee press. When steam began to filter from the spout, she lifted it from the heat and poured the hot water into the glass jug.
Leaving it to brew, she went through to the bathroom for a shower and afterwards, she secured her damp hair with a butterfly clip and rubbed herself dry. Standing naked, with one foot lifted onto the bathroom stool to make her task easier, she began applying fragranced body lotion to her skin.
When the bathroom door swung open, she glanced up to see Spike standing there naked. Without saying a word, he walked over to her and removed the bottle of lotion from her grasp, then moving his hand to the nape of her neck, he pulled her to him and took her mouth with his. The kiss was deep and devouring and even when he pulled away, Buffy could still taste him on her tongue.
“Good morning, luv,” he breathed, his lips still only an inch from hers.
“And I would love to spend it getting reacquainted,” she said, drawing circles on his chest. “But unfortunately, we both have work to do.”
“Hmm, I’d much rather play with you.”
“Well, Mr Giles, I think you need to learn that you can’t always get what you want,” she mock scolded him. “And as much as I would love to ignore our commitments, I’m afraid duty calls. Literally,” she added, when the sound of his ringing cell phone filtered through to them.
Spike sighed before stepping away from her and walking back through the door to retrieve his phone and answer the call. After finishing with the lotion, Buffy joined Spike in the bedroom, where he stood talking in rapid-fire Italian, having covered his nakedness with a pair of tight black boxers. While he dealt with business, she pulled on a pair of black Vivienne Westwood tailored pants, a white Prada silk blouse and black Louis Vuitton stiletto pumps, before drying her hair and applying makeup.
Back in the kitchen, Buffy poured herself a cup of freshly brewed coffee and slotted some bread into the toaster. She had almost finished eating her breakfast when Spike entered the room dressed in another black designer suit, this time with a grey hand-stitched shirt and black silk tie.
“Problem?” she asked as he helped himself to coffee.
“It’s nothing major,” he answered. “I have to go. I’m in and out of meetings all day, but I’ll call you later and let you know the arrangements for tonight.”
She followed him to the door. “Okay. I’m glad to have a legitimate excuse to go shopping in my lunch hour.”
“There’s nothing suitable in your wardrobe?”
“Oh, there probably is, but you know how much I love to shop.”
He brushed her mouth briefly with his. “Indeed I do,” he said, before glancing down, his eyes firing up when he saw the way her fitted blouse moulded her full breasts and the v-shaped neckline displayed her cleavage. “Actually, I think you’re right. You should definitely buy something new.”
She placed her hands on her hips and shot him a lock of mock irritation. “Are you saying you don’t like the way I dress?”
His blue eyes flashed with wickedness. “Uh huh,” he said as he started to undo the buttons that ran down the front of her blouse. “And I think this has got to go for a start…”
“Behave, Spike,” she said with a smile as she pushed his hands away and refastened the buttons which he’d undone.
“I could cancel my meetings.”
“No you can’t,” she told him. “And I have to be at the gallery. Now go.”
“Bye, luv,” he said, pouting, before finally making his exit.
Closing the door behind him, she returned to the kitchen to finish her coffee and toast. Then picking up her purse, she slipped her keys inside along with her cell phone and wallet and rode the elevator down to the parking lot.
After deactivating the locking system, she slid into her car and within minutes, she was integrated into the morning traffic and heading towards the gallery she owned on west Wilshire. On arrival, she took the elevator up to the fourth floor and entering through the glass doors, she stopped at the desk of her assistant Willow to collect her mail, before heading into her office.
She’d opened the gallery four years ago, having bought it seven months after Angel’s death. Although her own work had suffered greatly in the wake of her loss, she’d realised that she could still put her talent to good use. Gradually, she’d begun to paint again, but by then she loved working at the gallery too much to give it up.
Buffy had just sat down in the plush leather chair behind her desk when Willow popped her head round the door.
“Miss McClay just called to confirm your ten thirty appointment.”
“Okay, thanks Will,” Buffy said with a smile. Tara McClay was a promising new artist and Buffy was considering showcasing some of her work.
The morning went by quickly with Buffy going through her mail and making some phone calls before Tara arrived. After the meeting, she headed straight out, having arranged to have lunch with her best friend, Faith and wanting to go via Rodeo Drive to look for a dress to wear for dinner.
Heading out into the reception area, she was only mildly surprised to see Tara still there, chatting with Willow. Although she was technically an employee, Willow was also a good friend and Buffy knew that she had recently split up with her girlfriend, Kennedy. Buffy already sensed a little chemistry between her assistant and her newest client and it would be good to see Willow happy again.
Walking past them, she smiled as she left the gallery.
After trawling a number of designer boutiques, Buffy found the perfect dress for dinner and with a smile on her face and an assortment of bags in her hands, she walked the block and a half to the bistro restaurant where she had arranged to meet Faith. She was looking forward to seeing her best friend, who had spontaneously flown in from New York the day before. They’d first met during their freshman year at Columbia University and with their close friendship extending beyond graduation, they’d kept their promise to stay in touch despite living at opposite ends of the country.
Entering the foyer of the chic establishment, Buffy was warmly greeted by the maitre d’ and shown to a table. Ten minutes later, she was sipping the chilled mineral water she’d ordered, when Faith slid into the opposite seat.
“The traffic was murder,” she offered up as another excuse for her acute tardiness, before ordering a Jack Daniels on the rocks.
Buffy smiled knowingly. “Shall we order?”
“Yeah, I’m starved.” Faith glanced over the menu before opting for the crab ravioli, while Buffy chose the grilled chicken salad.
“So what are you doing in L.A.?” she asked, when the waiter left.
Faith grinned and reaching into her bag, she pulled out a small white envelope and slid it across the table.
“Well, I wanted to give this to you in person.”
Buffy picked up the envelope with a bemused frown and pulled out the card inside, gasping when she read what was written on the front. For a few seconds, shock robbed her of speech.
“What?” she exclaimed when she was finally able to answer. “You’re...you’re getting married?”
“Uh huh,” Faith replied with a grin. “You have to be my maid of honour, B. I’ll be lost without you there.” Amused by the look of astonishment on Buffy’s face, she continued, “And I can’t wait for you to meet Robin – he works on Wall Street and has a black belt in taekwondo.”
“Hmm, sounds like your soulmate.”
Faith rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t believe in all that Hallmark trash.”
“I found mine,” Buffy said softly.
And lost him, she thought. The horrific scene of Angel’s death when a random electrical fault had blasted his Jet Ski to smithereens only a few months after their wedding was captured forever in her memory.
After the funeral, Buffy had sold the estate in northern California and returned home to Sunnydale, where her mother, stepfather and half-sister Dawn had helped her through her grief during the months it took her to turn her life around.
And when she’d decided to open the gallery in L.A. and had begun moving among her old circle of friends, she’d known that everything she did would be being carefully scrutinized for an indication of her emotional distress. And today five years on, her pain and anguish hadn’t faded – she had simply put her grief behind her in an effort to move on with her life as Angel would have wanted, while never forgetting the wonderful but brief time when she’d been truly happy.
Buffy knew that Faith had always struggled to know what to say when the subject of her tragic past was brought up in conversation.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve learnt to deal with it. Angel was unique. For a while he was mine. At least I have that.”
The waiter’s appearance with their food provided a welcome interruption.
“So,” Faith said. “How’s Spike? Still setting your sheets on fire?”
After her first night spent with Spike in London, Buffy’s work commitments had required her immediate return to L.A. However, when, two months later, they’d met up in New York, they’d run into Faith at the restaurant where they were having dinner. The two friends had caught up the following day and Faith had wanted to know everything about the incredibly sexy new man in Buffy’s life.
“Oh yeah,” Buffy said. “The sex is incredible.”
“Hell, I don’t blame you, B. I’d be getting bouncy with a guy if he looked like William Giles!”
“Faith! You’re an engaged woman!”
“Doesn’t mean I’m blind,” Faith countered. “So the ‘L’ word hasn’t come up yet?”
Buffy’s smile faded. “I’ve already told you, love’s not an option. For either of us. What Spike and I have is a good friendship and good sex.”
“Are you sure about that? I mean you’ve been seeing the guy for almost a year now. Exclusively. It’s pretty radical for something that’s supposed to be casual to have lasted this long.”
“I like him and I respect him,” Buffy argued. “And the sex is always amazing. But I can’t love him – you know that.”
“B, you’re my best friend so it’s my job to worry about you. It’s been five years since Angel’s death, and if you have a chance to be happy with Spike, then you should take it.”
The waiter brought coffee.
“Faith, I love you for trying to help, but I’m happy with what Spike and I have. It’s the perfect arrangement for both of us. We enjoy what we have without worrying about the other person wanting what neither of us is able to give.”
“Okay, I respect that. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Love has a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it. Look at me and Robin.”
Buffy took a sip of her cappuccino. “I’m so glad you’ve found someone who makes you happy. It reminds me of how much I miss Angel.”
“I get that,” Faith replied. “But at the end of the day, Angel’s not coming back. Reality is Spike, the kind of guy that a girl would kill to be with. Just don’t ignore what’s right in front of you.”
“I appreciate the advice, Faith, but I’m happy with things the way they are.”
“Five by five?”
Smiling at her long time friend, Buffy cast a customary glance over the check, before handing the waiter her credit card. After paying, she stood up and pulled on her jacket.
“It’s been great to catch up,” Faith said as they emerged onto the sidewalk. “We’ll have to get together again before I leave.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed as they hugged each other. “I’ll call you.”
“Take care, B.”
“Always,” Buffy said with a smile, before turning and heading back towards the gallery.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for the amazing reviews guys! I’m so happy to hear that you love Spuffy in my story as much as I do. Fellow writers will know that reviews only make you write faster, so here’s another chapter for y’all. Sorry for the lack of spuffiness in this chapter but I will make up for it in the next. Also sorry for writing about Buffy’s heart-aching love for Angel. But seeing as this is a Spuffy fic, you just know her love for Spike is gonna be even better.