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*A.N: Between my fans and my betas, I am feeling loved. Everything is going as planned, and within no time there with be more in store for the blonde duo. Please review and there will be an update tomorrow.*

Chapter Four: Lie To Me

The empty glass earned a groan from the buff man behind the desk. He was in no mood to get up and refill the glass, especially when his wife was living with another man, and spending Christmas with him.

Angel picked up the picture of Buffy in Central Park, a week after their wedding, and threw it across the room. When it hit the wall the glass shattered, and Darla came rushing into the room.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Rayne?” She asked sweetly.

“Haven’t you done enough?” He stood angrily, and shouted.

“I-I’m sorry…I just thought you might have hurt-“

He cut her off. “Get out…you’re fired.” His voice was menacingly low, and Darla fled without much thought.

It was her fault. She begged for the position to be his secretary, and inched her way into his pants. It didn’t take long before his late meetings grew later, and his clothes smelled of perfume.

Every night, Angel would head home to Buffy, complaining of backaches and migraines, and as a good wife, she accepted that. She offered back rubs and Motrin, but he always turned his back to her, and dozed off.

“Tsk, tsk,” Ethan Rayne stood at the door of his only child’s office, shaking his head.

“What are you doing here?” Angel asked, sitting back down at his desk, and sorting through some paper work.

Ethan moved further into the office, and sat on the maroon colored couch at the far end of the office, but not before picking up the shattered frame. “I do own this business.”

“But you’re usually home by this time.” Angel said, glancing at his watch. It was close to seven, and the next two days were the beginning of the holiday.

“I just thought you’d like to know…pretty little thing, isn’t she?” He trailed off, looking at Buffy’s picture. It was the end of the summer when that picture was taken, her hair hung loosely down her back, and she wore shorts and a belly halter. “She never looked so happy.”

“Thought I’d like to know what, Dad?” Angel made his way to the couch. Snatching the picture away, he sat beside the older man.

Ethan took a breath. “The papers for the annulment have arrived at the house. You have until the end of January to sign them, or it goes to court.”

Angel put a hand through his spiked brown hair. “I-I can’t sign those papers.”

“Your damn right you can’t…this business will go to hell if you sign those papers. But if you go to court, it’ll get worse.” Ethan said.

“You don’t understand what I’m telling you, Dad. I can’t sign those papers because I love her. I love Buffy too much to let go of her now, and I have to win her back.” He stood, oozing with enthusiasm. He rushed to the phone, quickly punching in a familiar number. “Hi, I need five dozen red roses delivered to a Buffy Summers. The card? Yeah, it should say, ‘For every minute my heart breaks without you.’” He was happy; he felt he was sure to win her over and her heart back now.

“Good going son, just waste perfectly good roses. We’ll begin interviews for your new secretary Monday, and I’ll see you at the ball tomorrow night.” Ethan said, knowing his boy didn’t hear a word. He was too busy planning a hostile take over.

*

Buffy stood before the open door, her mouth hanging open slightly as she stared at the man before her. “Daddy…what are you doing here?”

Hank Summers surveyed the apartment as he entered with a huge box in hand, his smile wide. “Looks like Angel’s been treating you right. How is the boy? He hasn’t been to any of the poker games lately.”

“Well…you know he’s been busy…with work and stuff.” Buffy did her best to keep her smile going. She could only thank God that Spike was at work. If Spike had been there, instead of Angel, she’d look like the unfaithful one.

Hank turned to his only child and smiled at her. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young lady, Buffy. I’m proud of you.” He set down the box, and reached out to hug his little girl.

“Is everything okay?” She asked worriedly, feeling the invasion of her personal space uncomfortable.

“Why would anything me wrong, Pumpkin?”

“Well, we only see each other once a year…and you just dropping by is out of context.” She explained.

Hank picked up the box, and handed it to her. “Think of this as part of your Christmas present.” He said as she unwrapped it. “Tomorrow night is the Christmas Eve ball at the Plaza, and I thought you might need something pretty to wear.”

“I’m not going,” Buffy stated simply, pulling a long pale blue gown out of the box. It was a tube-top gown, the full skirt decorated with silver snowflakes. “It’s beautiful, but I’m not going.”

“You and the husband have a little tiff?” He asked, putting his hand in the pockets of his sports coat.

Buffy hesitated slightly, “I’m afraid it’s a lot more than just a fight. Angel and I are-“

The doorbell interrupted her train of thought, and with a loud sigh, she opened the heavy metal door. Standing there with five vases of red roses surrounding him was a short Chinese man.

“Rose for Bunny,” he said in broken English.

“Buffy,” she corrected.

“Whatever, here’s card.” With that, the man left.

Buffy opened the card with caution, reading the words carefully and holding it too her heart with tears in her eyes. Fighting off tears, she had no idea why it affected her emotionally, but Angel was hurting and it broke her heart, as well.

“Are going to be fine,” Hank finished her sentence for her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Pumpkin. There are two invitations in that box.”

*

Spike entered the apartment, surprised by the surrounding darkness. After hanging his leather coat up in the closet, he headed straight toward the Christmas tree, turning the multicolored lights on.

He figured Buffy was asleep, as he made his way to his room to get more comfortable, but saw that candlelight flicker beneath her bedroom door. He wasn’t one to barge in, but he felt jealousy lace him, at the thought of Angel sharing her bed. He knocked gently, and opened the door when he received no reply.

Lying on the bed, sound asleep, was Buffy, wearing an evening gown. The candlelight illuminated her face; the soft glow of her skin and on impulse, Spike went over to the bed, and stroked her cheek.

Her hazel eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at him. “Morning.” She said in a whisper.

He took a step back from her, afraid that he invaded her personal space. “Sorry…it’s only seven, and I thought you might like dinner.”

She sat up, and looked down at her attire.

“I was going to ask about that.” Spike said with a smirk.

“My father stopped by, and wants me to go the Plaza for that ball thing…I said no, but he insisted.” She frowned.

“I’m guessing that having you in the same city, shows that he has family. Benefits his business and social life.” He explained.

Buffy sighed. “I understand that, but I really don’t want to deal with Angel. He’ll be there, with his family.”

Spike noticed the invitations on her nightstand, and picked it up. “Well, luv, it looks like you’ve got yourself a date.”

“Oh, really? And who might that be?” She asked.

“Me. I look damn right charming in a tux.” Buffy smiled at the offer, with every intention of accepting it.





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