“Don’t, Angel.” Buffy glared at her husband over the rim of her coffee mug. “Don’t even say it. I know you had to work late. I’m just not up for listening to your excuses this morning.” Even though it was a work day, both Buffy and Angel had slept in, and now they were in the kitchen preparing to go off to their respective jobs. He hadn’t gotten home until 2am, and she was still suffering the aftereffects of her drinking bout, so neither was in a mood for reconciliation.
“Come on, Buffy. I’m sorry I didn’t call, but we had a really important break in the case last night. I just couldn’t take the time.” Surely she couldn’t be that upset. “It was just dinner, right?”
“Just dinner?” She slammed her mug down, splashing coffee out onto the counter. “It was not just dinner!” she yelled.
“Stop it, Buffy.” Angel said sharply, turning away to slide some papers in his briefcase. “You’re not behaving like yourself, and you are way overreacting.” What had gotten into his normally sweet, even-tempered wife?
Was she? She had been so upset last night, but maybe the alcohol had affected her judgment. Spike had seemed to think it was important too, though.
Just then the doorbell rang.
“Who could that possibly be?” Buffy wondered aloud. Angel just grunted noncommittally and continued looking through his briefcase, so Buffy went over and answered the door.
“Delivery for Buffy Summers?” A young man wearing a local florist’s uniform was standing at the door, holding a beautiful bouquet of pink roses!
“That’s me,” said Buffy. What a wonderful apology! She supposed now that Angel really did feel bad about last night; he just didn’t know how to say it. A much happier Buffy reentered the kitchen.
“Angel, they’re beautiful. Thank you so much!” she said warmly, all of her former animosity gone.
Her husband looked up bewildered. “I didn’t send them,” he said shortly.
“Oh.” Buffy’s face fell. “Well, I wonder who they’re from…” She pulled the small card out of it’s envelope.
Dear Buffy,
Every girl deserves flowers on Valentine’s Day. Sorry these are a little late!
Yours,
Spike“
They’re from Spike,” she said wonderingly.
“Spike?” Angel looked up again. “Blue Flame Spike? I know you’ve emailed him a couple of times, but why is he sending you flowers?”
“Just to be nice.” Buffy said with a small smile. “And it’s been more than a couple of times. Remember I told you he called me the other day?”
Angel searched his memory and came up with a vague recollection of her talking about getting a call in the grocery store. Sometimes she just went on and on about trivial things, when he really needed to be thinking about work, so he occasionally just blocked her out.
“Oh, well.” He said abstractedly. “I’m sure he just had his manager send them.”
“No,” Buffy replied firmly with a frown. “He didn’t. He wouldn’t do that. We’re friends.”
“Buffy, why would someone like him want to be friends with you? You’re not even single.” Angel explained patiently. She was clearly having delusions about the nature of this relationship, and he ought to warn her before she got disappointed.
“I don’t know.” This discussion was quickly becoming frustrating for her. “He says he likes to hear about normal life. And we have a lot in common.” She grabbed her keys. “Anyway, I have to go. What are your plans tonight?”
"I have to-“ Angel began, but Buffy cut him off, holding up her hand.“I know, I know, you have to work late. Well, I’ll see you whenever you get home.”
She headed out the door and jumped in her car for the short drive to the gallery. She hoped Drusilla wouldn’t be angry. She had left a short message on the answering machine late last night, saying that she would be in a bit late today. Parking her car, she grabbed her purse and breezed through the front door of the spacious gallery.
“Dru?” she called. “I’m here!”
“Feeling better?” Buffy’s boss popped out of an open doorway behind her, causing Buffy to jump in fright
.“You scared me,” she smiled. “How do you do that? You’re always sneaking up on me!”
“I just learned to walk quietly,” the older woman smiled back. She was always the picture of sophistication, and today was no different. Her dark hair was swept on top of her head with a shiny black comb, and her black dress was immaculate. Drusilla preferred to wear dark colors, and the one time that Buffy had seen her in a pastel sundress, she almost hadn’t recognized her.
“So are you feeling better?” Dru asked again.
“Sure,” Buffy replied unconvincingly.
Dru gave her a penetrating, head to toe stare, then turned on her heel and headed back into her office. “There’s no one here right now. Come on, let’s talk.”
Buffy dragged her feet a little as she followed her boss. The woman had the uncanniest knack of knowing exactly what was in her head. Once they were both settled, Drusilla just sat and looked at Buffy, waiting for her to start.
“Well,” she began. “I kind of had a fight with Angel.”
“He didn’t show up last night, did her?” asked Dru, without a trace of surprise.
“No, he didn’t. How did you….”
“Buffy, it doesn’t take any sort of psychic ability to figure that out. He hasn’t been showing up for a lot lately, has he?”
“No,” she admitted. “And I know he’s working hard so he can make partner, and I know his cases are important. But sometimes I feel like I should be important too, at least a little.”
“You are more than a little important. You’re a special girl, Buffy, and it’s wrong to let him forget it.” Dru said adamantly.
“That’s what Spike said.” Buffy smiled shyly.
“Oh, so you’ve talked to him again?” Dru’s lips curved in an answering grin. “Do tell.”
“I…I can’t believe I did this, but I called him last night. Angel never came home, and I started drinking the champagne I had set out for dinner, and before I knew it I was on the phone with Spike.” She dropped her head into her hands in embarrassment, even as she was laughing at herself. “I still can’t believe it…I drunk dialed Spike!”
Drusilla laughed with her. “I’m sure Spike didn’t mind. Did he make you feel better?”
The amusement fell off Buffy’s face, quickly replaced by a contemplative look. “Yeah, he did.” She admitted. “A lot better. He said some really nice things…”
“Buffy,” Dru said seriously. “Think about this: Does Angel ever make you feel good anymore?”
“Of course!” she exclaimed defensively. “Sure, he does. It hasn’t been that long since we went to the concert, together, and he was nice that night, and since then, well, he’s just been busy.” She thought for a moment, and then stood up decisively. “You know what? Maybe Angel’s right. Maybe I did overreact. I mean, we’re married. We’ve been together forever. In the face of all that, what’s one little dinner?”
“But, Buffy…”
“Really. I’m okay now, Dru. Thanks for the talk, but I should go check in that new inventory. Call me if you need me!”
As Buffy marched stoically out of the room, Drusilla could only sigh and shake her head sadly. She knew what was coming, and hoped that Buffy would open her eyes before it was too late.
*****************************************************************************************
Once again, Spike sat lost in thought, looking out of the tour bus window. His conversation with Buffy last night had done nothing to ease his confusion. It would be so much easier if she were happy. If she had a husband who adored her, like he wanted to.
“You look like you’re somewhere else.” Anya, their manager and Xander’s girlfriend, had been with them for the last bit of the European tour and was going back to the States with them in a few weeks.
“I am,” he sighed. “Problem is, it’s somewhere I shouldn’t be.”“
Xander mentioned a girl…Is it her?” Anya was being unusually gentle. Normally, she was the first person to bluntly state her opinion on other people’s private affairs, but her boyfriend told her he was really worried about Spike, and thus the gentleness. Plus, an out of sorts Spike was not good for business.
“What else?” Spike smiled. “Not just a girl, though….I don’t know, An. I’ve only ever seen her once, but we’ve been emailing, and talking, and somehow…..” He held his hands up helplessly. “I just don’t know.”
“We’ll be back in New York, soon. Will it help to see her again?”
God, to see Buffy, to touch her…But he couldn’t, not really. Not the way he wanted to. “Maybe. Probably not. She’s married, you know.”
Startled, Anya looked at him sharply. “No, actually I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. To someone who doesn’t appreciate how bloody amazing she is. Who makes her cry…” he trailed off, eyes closing briefly as he remembered the awfulness of Buffy’s tears.
“How does she feel about you?”
Sighing, Spike rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sure. At first, she was completely star struck. So adorable to see. But since then, we’ve talked so much, we have so much in common. I know she trusts me. She called me last night, after her husband didn’t show up for this special dinner she had planned. She called me to make her feel better.”
“But Spike,” Anya hesitated. “If she’s married, the only thing you can do is be her friend. Maybe, I don’t know, help her with her marriage?”
Priceless. That was the very last thing he wanted to do.
“Either way, if you push her, if the two of you end up doing something she doesn’t really want, she’ll regret it and resent you.”
“I know, I know. I just wish-“
“Think about it.” She cut him off. “We’ll be in New York in less than two weeks. What will you do?” He started to speak, but she just held up her hand to stop him as she got up off the seat.
“No, don’t speak. Just think. What are you going to do when you get to New York?”
Frustrated, Spike could only drop his head back against the seat and sigh. If only he bloody knew.
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