"Car keys, car keys, car keys... Car keys, lunch, scarf, hat, what else do I need again?" Buffy Anne Dunne asked herself frantically, blond hair flying wildly around Buffy as she sprinted around her house, searching for anything she could be missing. "Okay, I think I've got everything," she said, brushing back her hair's fly aways and neatly tucking in her shirt. "Bye, honey!" she yelled into the next room, where the TV was turned up just a bit too loud. A grunt sounded from the next room. With a quick sigh, she walked out to her car and began to drive off. "Okay, Buffy-you've got everything you need, we just need to get to work now and get Daisy Marie to day care-no big deal."
A light bulb flicked on in Buffy's head. "Daisy Marie!" she exclaimed, and slammed on the breaks before doing a complete U-turn, oblivious to the 12 people that nearly collided with her, she drove gracelessly back to pick up her daughter.
At Buffy's house at that moment, a small girl no older than five years of age slowly walked down the stairs. She wore bright pink overalls, had huge green eyes and chocolate brown hair that was pulled into two tight pigtails, each complete with a bow. "Okay, Mommy, I'm weddy!" she cried down the stairs.
But, instead of the usual proud voice of her mother, she heard her daddy's menacing growl.
"Stupid slut, she forgot the kid!"
Her green eyes went huge. "Mommy?" she tried again.
"Mommy's not here," Daddy answered.
Daisy Marie retreated up the stairs hurriedly so as to not anger her father further.
Buffy suddenly burst in the door, hair once again filled with fly aways, and lipstick smeared across her lips. "Daisy Marie?" she called out.
"Mommy?" her daughter answered from up the stairs.
"Daisy? Oh, sweetie, I didn't mean to forget you! You know how Mommy gets sometimes!" Buffy called out as she sprinted up the stairs and embraced her daughter in a tight hug. "Oh shoot, look at the time!" Buffy nearly shouted as she caught a glimpse of her watch. With a quick swoop she scooped Daisy Marie into her arms and bolted for the door.
"God, Buff, how stupid do you have to be, to forget your own kid?" came a quiet voice from the doorway to the "family" room. Buffy paused-held deadly still, every muscle in her body tense.
"No, really-try this one on for size-Buffy Dunne nee Summers, once a fierce high school student and black belt-now, the only thing she's good for is cooking, cleaning, taking care of her dumb kid, and pleasuring her husband-and she doesn't do any of those things very well," Angel said softly. His voice was like a razor-sharp knife.
Buffy held Daisy Marie tight for a second before letting her down on the ground. "Go," she said to her daughter. "Run to the car and lock all of the doors." Buffy slipped her cell phone into Daisy Marie's tiny hand. "What happened to you, Angel? You used to be so sweet to me."
"I was never sweet, sugar," Angel whispered. "And if I was, you sure as hell fucked it out of me. No way a man could stay nice after a turn on the town bicycle."
Buffy brushed it off; it was weak criticism, and he knew it. She'd only ever been with him. "When are you going to get a job, Angel? I can't keep relying on my friends forever, and we're already behind on the rent."
"I'll work from home, or something," Angel proposed.
"How do you expect me to believe that? You can't even turn on the computer!" Buffy protested, then glanced at her watch. "No, you know what, never mind. I'm going to be late to work," she said, and stalked out the door.
"Bye, lover," Angel Dunne hissed viciously as the door slammed behind her.
Buffy shook off a chill as she made her way to her car, and after quickly buckling in Daisy, she began to speed off once again.
"Bye-bye Mommy!" exclaimed Daisy as she ran up the stairs of her day care center quickly, blowing her mommy a kiss good bye that Buffy returned with a soft smile,and a wave.
She allowed herself to sit there for a second, daydreaming about her young daughter and remembering when her daughter had been just an infant, not even large enough to hold up her own head, before she shook herself out of it and drove off to the mantra of, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"
With a final sharp turn into her awaiting parking spot, Buffy sprang forth from her car working her way to the front doors of Pratt Family and Son. Shuffling as quickly as her heels could carry her, she worked her way to her desk.
"You're ten minutes late again, Buffy," rang a quiet but assertive voice from behind her, making her very nearly jump out of her seat.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Willow! I'll make up for it after hours!"
Willow grinned and winked at Buffy. "How about you make it up now? Come into my office and I'll give you a good... Talking to."
Buffy giggled. "Wills!"
"What? It's your fault for wearing such a cute pencil skirt! You know I can't help myself!" Willow said shrugging her shoulders a crooked smile plastered on her face.
Buffy frowned. "I could've sworn I was wearing pants today..."
Willow smiled sadly. "Well, you do have Daisy Marie to take care of, and everything. And things aren't exactly going great on the husbandly side of things."
Buffy nodded, looking sad for a moment before turning to her computer. "I have to sub for Anya in a meeting at two, do you mind?"
Willow shook her head vigorously. "No, not at all!" she enthused.
Suddenly Buffy's cell began to ring loudly, stopping the two mid conversation. Checking the caller ID Angel's name shone brightly across the screen. "Speak of the devil," Buffy muttered. "Do you mind if I take this?"
"Do whatever you need, Buff. I'll be in my office."
With a small wave goodbye Buffy turned to answer her phone.
"Hello?" she asked tentatively.
"What the fuck, bitch!" Angel's gruff voice rang through her phone. "Your phone was ringing for god knows how long, what could be so important that you couldn't answer right away?"
With a small tremor in her voice, Buffy answered him. "I was talking to my boss; I'm sorry."
"You'd better have been," He stated. "Anyway, the day care called-your kid's caught a cold or something and ya gotta go get her."
"O-okay," Buffy replied still shaken up slightly, "I'll go get her now."
All she heard after that was a low growl before the connection cut.
"W-Willow?" Buffy stuttered, and then cursed herself for it. "Daisy Marie has a cold or something; I have to go get her. Is that okay?"
Willow's fiery head popped out of the door of her office, a delighted grin on her face. "Oh, honey! It's more than okay!"
Buffy smiled softly and once again gathered her car keys.
Once Daisy Marie was settled down for a nap, it was nearly nine in the morning, and therefore time for Willow's cup of tea-green with two tea bags, no milk, but a spoonful of honey and a squirt of lemon juice. Willow wasn't a harsh boss, but she did like her tea to be prepared a certain way. When it wasn't, she often got a bit-grumpy.
With a final glance towards her sleeping five year old, Buffy tredged down the hall to make tea for Willow.
Near the entrance of Pratt Family and Son, a man in a charcoal suit adorned with a red tie and slicked-back bleached blond hair gracefully made his way out of his DeSoto.
"I don't care if this dude is the bloody king of England! He's an absolute idiot and a giant arse, and we are not doing business with him," the man yelled angrily into his phone before hanging up and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
Gliding through the doors, he began working his way towards Willow's office.
With a soft growl, he banged his way through the door, causing Daisy to startle, which he didn't notice on his haste to get to Willow's office. "Red!" he called as he crossed the threshold into Willow's office. "What've you got for me?"
"Not tea, apparently," Willow grumped. "Buffy should've been back with it by now; maybe they ran out of honey or something."
"Bloody shame, that is," Spike muttered, very nearly, but not quite, being sarcastic. "And business-wise?"
"Oh! Here are the reports," Willow said. "And my receptionist did this ad up for me-you know, she's actually sort of passionate about this artwork thing? She said that this was just the prototype, that she'd do the real thing at home in acrylic, once her husband finds a job-but for now, that this will do." Willow held up a sign that Buffy had done on her computer. "She said that it needed a few things, but..."
Spike grinned. The new ad was excellent. "I love your department, Red. This was exactly what I needed after that awful bloke this morning tried to sell me on the idea of bathroom defrosters. Who the bloody hell needs a bathroom defroster in southern California, or anywhere, really, and why would I want to sell one in a Pratt magazine, even if they were needed?
Willow giggled. "You should see some of the stuff I've gotten in the past week. Remote control pants, to name one."
"It's like we're surrounded by idiots," Spike grumbled under his breath.
Willow nodded. "Idiots of the worst kind-salesman idiots."
Spike grinned at Willow, and they shared a moment of silent commiseration. Then, suddenly-"Red?" he asked.
"Hm?" Willow asked, surprised by his unexpectedly serious tone.
"I've got a friend-Tara? Tara Maclay? And, well, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to, you know, meet her?"
"Mr. Pratt, you do know that just because I'm-"
"Red, I've spent quite some thinking about this. I'm not setting you up because you both happen to like girls; I'm setting you up because you two might very well be perfect for each other." Spike grinned. "And what have I told you?" he asked her.
"You want me to call you Spike, right?" Willow grinned.
"Yes; I would very much like that. Oh, and Red?" Spike asked her as he slid out of his seat.
"Yes?"
"Think about it?"
Willow smiled softly. "I will, Spike."
With that said, Spike gave her a small wave over his shoulder as he walked out the door.
"Okay-now that that's over, how is my little Daisy Marie?" Buffy asked, eyes shifting to a now empty couch across from her desk, where people with appointments usually waited.
"DAISY MARIE? WILLOW, WHERE IN THE WORLD IS DAISY?"
"Well, that worked out fairly well," Spike said to himself.
"What workeded out wewll mistew," came a small voice from beside him.
"Oh, you know. Wait... Bugger!" with a quick double take, Spike looked down to see a five year old girl looking back at him. "And who the bleedin' hell are you?" he asked incredulously.
"I'm Daisy Marwie Dunne," the girl stated happily. "And who are you, Mistew scarwy guy?"
"The name's Spike, and if I'm so scary, then why are you talking to me?" he asked, beginning to get annoyed.
"'Cause you seem nice," she stated plainly, and embraced his leg.
"Well," Spike started, then paused to think of an appropriate response. "I'm not, and for the love of God, let go of my leg," he growled, shaking his leg back and forth repeatedly.
"Wheeee," giggled Daisy Marie as Spike tried his hardest to release himself from her snake-like grip.
"Daisy? Daisy Marie?" a woman shouted down the hall, turning the corner to find her sweet baby holding onto some guy's leg and giggling happily. "Oh, Daisy there you are," she exclaimed, running forward.
"Mommy!" Daisy Marie shouted, releasing Spike's leg quickly and running into her mother's waiting arms.
"Oh, honey! Don't scare me like that ever again," Buffy breathed into her daughter's hair.
"I'm sowwy, Mommy," Daisy said, holding onto her mother's blouse.
Behind them, Spike cleared his throat loudly, interrupting their loving moment. "Well then-this is very touching. I'll just be going, then," he said, and turned on his heel to leave.
"No, Mistew Spike! Don't go, Mistew, please!" Daisy called after him, and he stopped mid-stride.
"Now what, luv?" Spike asked, cursing his big, soft heart as he turned back around.
"Mommy has to thank you for looking after me, and then, you guys hafta look into each other's eyes, and then, you guys hafta act weally embawassed!"
Buffy blushed a deep red, but Spike smirked and sidled up to her, standing so close that Daisy Marie almost got crushed between them. "Well, pet? Say 'Thank you' to Mister Spike," he whispered in her ear.
Buffy arched towards him, a low heat beginning to burn in her belly. "Th-thank you, Mister Spike," she stuttered. Then, suddenly remembering Angel, "I-I have to go; Daisy Marie needs Tylenol and rest. She's sick, and she has to go to daycare tomorrow."