Title: Change of Heart (#1 in Untitled Series)
Author: Pixie
Disclaimer: Do I *really* need to do this again?
Ratings: PG?
Distribution: You want it? Go ahead, ask first than I'll let you have it.
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Author's Note: AU fic! Buffy comes from a very different past than she is
from the show.
AN2: #1 in Untitled Series
Spoilers: None, this is an AU fic.
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Summary: Buffy Summers has led a troubling childhood and she must conquer
her fears, but when her handsome boss enters her world, she feels
threatened that he might destroy her fragile life that she had built for
herself. Will she ever allow her walls down and allow someone to teach her
the powers of love?
****************
Part 7
Upon their arrival to Conners Inc., Buffy hastily thanked him and practically ran towards the elevator.
Angelus was tempted to tell her about their situation, but he decided until their meeting.
Besides, it would mean more fun for him.
Angelus was headed towards the elevators, when he decided to use the stairs instead. It would give Buffy some time to recuperate. He also needed time to think.
When Angelus finally arrived at his office, he grabbed some business clothes from the closet. He always kept extra sets of clothing at his office. Who knew when an emergency would happen?
What color should it be today? Blue? Or dark blue? Or maybe even black?
*Hmm.....decisions, decisions.*
He decided to go with the black with a white, silk tie and white shirt.
Sitting down on his big armchair, Angelus looked over the files on his desk that Winfred, or Fred, had placed on his desk. But, as he was going through the numerous files, he couldn't get his mind off of the young woman he had picked up this morning.
He had to practically restrain himself from touching her. She was beautiful. With her sunkissed, blond hair and, from what he could tell, her smooth as silk skin. Her skin tone shone with a healthy glow. Her petite frame was so fragile that she could crumble beneath his hands. But her most alluring feature were her eyes. Casted in shadows and revealing none of her thoughts or feelings.
He wanted desperately to see her again. He wanted to see the emotional wall she built crumble and he wanted to be there when it happened. He wanted to know what had caused the deep shadows in her beautiful, hazel eyes and prevent it from ever happening again.
As much as he admitted to himself that he wanted to know her emotionally, he couldn't forget the fact that he wanted to know her physically as well.
The proof of his wayward thoughts stood proud and tall. He grimaced.
Suddenly, there was a buzz and Fred's voice floated in.
"Mr. Connors, Miss Buffy Summers is here for her appointment."
Angelus smiled, and answered to Fred. Telling her to allow Miss Summers to enter.
* * * *
As soon as she reached her floor, the fifth floor, Buffy rushed into the bathroom. She was late, she looked horrible, and she was *late*.
The boss of all bosses, otherwise known as Mr. Connors, was going to *kill* her. Crucify and hung at high noon.
Upon arriving at the women's facility, Buffy tried desperately to fix her hair and make-up. Deciding that no matter how hard she tried, it was hopeless. Mr. Connors would just have to live with the fact that she was a total mess.
When she was done, Buffy exited the bathroom and walked the short distance to her office. Ignoring the stares that were given in her direction.
*Why are they looking at me? Do I look *that* horrible?*
She was tempted to run back into the bathroom and hide forever, but she reminded herself that it didn't matter what they thought.
*It doesn't matter what anyone thinks of me.*
Of course it didn't.
When she finally reached her office, Buffy closed the door and leaned against it. Breathing in deeply.
Buffy sat behind her small desk. This was where she felt safe. Behind the small desk and on the fairly large armchair that seemed to have swallowed her up. This was where she had the power. This was where she made a difference in the world. Her decisions and opinions were depended by the other employees and the clients.
This was where she was important. Not smothered in a tiny house with the cellar as her bedroom.
Buffy attempted to do some work, but images of soft, brown eyes kept floating across her mind. Eyes so brown it was nearly black. Eyes that were full of warmth but held it's own secrets. Telling her so much, yet so little.
*The eyes are the window's of a soul.*
She remembered the old saying. One of her favorite teachers had said it once in class. She hadn't believed it then and she had raised her hand in class to say so. The teacher asked why she didn't believe it and she had answered that eyes were just eyes. And if eyes could speak, they would be mouths instead. It had been her only time to talk infront of the class. It had been her last.
She remembered as if it were yesterday. The laughter. The chuckles. The smiles. Everyone had made fun of her, although she didn't know why. And she had bowed her head and never cried. Besides, she had reasoned, emotional pain is nothing compared to physical pain.
She was wrong.
****************
Part 7
Upon their arrival to Conners Inc., Buffy hastily thanked him and practically ran towards the elevator.
Angelus was tempted to tell her about their situation, but he decided until their meeting.
Besides, it would mean more fun for him.
Angelus was headed towards the elevators, when he decided to use the stairs instead. It would give Buffy some time to recuperate. He also needed time to think.
When Angelus finally arrived at his office, he grabbed some business clothes from the closet. He always kept extra sets of clothing at his office. Who knew when an emergency would happen?
What color should it be today? Blue? Or dark blue? Or maybe even black?
*Hmm.....decisions, decisions.*
He decided to go with the black with a white, silk tie and white shirt.
Sitting down on his big armchair, Angelus looked over the files on his desk that Winfred, or Fred, had placed on his desk. But, as he was going through the numerous files, he couldn't get his mind off of the young woman he had picked up this morning.
He had to practically restrain himself from touching her. She was beautiful. With her sunkissed, blond hair and, from what he could tell, her smooth as silk skin. Her skin tone shone with a healthy glow. Her petite frame was so fragile that she could crumble beneath his hands. But her most alluring feature were her eyes. Casted in shadows and revealing none of her thoughts or feelings.
He wanted desperately to see her again. He wanted to see the emotional wall she built crumble and he wanted to be there when it happened. He wanted to know what had caused the deep shadows in her beautiful, hazel eyes and prevent it from ever happening again.
As much as he admitted to himself that he wanted to know her emotionally, he couldn't forget the fact that he wanted to know her physically as well.
The proof of his wayward thoughts stood proud and tall. He grimaced.
Suddenly, there was a buzz and Fred's voice floated in.
"Mr. Connors, Miss Buffy Summers is here for her appointment."
Angelus smiled, and answered to Fred. Telling her to allow Miss Summers to enter.
* * * *
As soon as she reached her floor, the fifth floor, Buffy rushed into the bathroom. She was late, she looked horrible, and she was *late*.
The boss of all bosses, otherwise known as Mr. Connors, was going to *kill* her. Crucify and hung at high noon.
Upon arriving at the women's facility, Buffy tried desperately to fix her hair and make-up. Deciding that no matter how hard she tried, it was hopeless. Mr. Connors would just have to live with the fact that she was a total mess.
When she was done, Buffy exited the bathroom and walked the short distance to her office. Ignoring the stares that were given in her direction.
*Why are they looking at me? Do I look *that* horrible?*
She was tempted to run back into the bathroom and hide forever, but she reminded herself that it didn't matter what they thought.
*It doesn't matter what anyone thinks of me.*
Of course it didn't.
When she finally reached her office, Buffy closed the door and leaned against it. Breathing in deeply.
Buffy sat behind her small desk. This was where she felt safe. Behind the small desk and on the fairly large armchair that seemed to have swallowed her up. This was where she had the power. This was where she made a difference in the world. Her decisions and opinions were depended by the other employees and the clients.
This was where she was important. Not smothered in a tiny house with the cellar as her bedroom.
Buffy attempted to do some work, but images of soft, brown eyes kept floating across her mind. Eyes so brown it was nearly black. Eyes that were full of warmth but held it's own secrets. Telling her so much, yet so little.
*The eyes are the window's of a soul.*
She remembered the old saying. One of her favorite teachers had said it once in class. She hadn't believed it then and she had raised her hand in class to say so. The teacher asked why she didn't believe it and she had answered that eyes were just eyes. And if eyes could speak, they would be mouths instead. It had been her only time to talk infront of the class. It had been her last.
She remembered as if it were yesterday. The laughter. The chuckles. The smiles. Everyone had made fun of her, although she didn't know why. And she had bowed her head and never cried. Besides, she had reasoned, emotional pain is nothing compared to physical pain.
She was wrong.