~
Buffy bit her lip as she erased everything she had typed, frustrated at herself. She breathed in and blinked, ready to start anew.
"Surefire Ways to Get Her to Your Apartment"
Buffy scowled as she typed the title, but kept it anyway, realizing it was more tasteful than what most of the writers surrounding her were coming up with. One guy had actually named his piece "Hot, Steamy Brunettes Rubbing Oil on Themselves: The Truth About Your Woman's Lesbian Fantasies and How to Make Her Indulge in Them." Buffy could only hope that Spike, Anya, or the ever-elusive Mr. Giles would make him change it. Though, looking at some of the other stories from previous issues, it didn't look likely.
"#1..." Buffy whispered as she typed, "Umm...#1..."
Buffy was about to type that there were no surefire ways when she remembered what Spike had told her. No Just-Be-Yourself piece.
Suddenly, Buffy smiled to herself...an idea was blossoming in her head.
Who said she wasn't allowed to have fun?
~
Spike was normally able to contain himself, but it was just too much. The need, the urge...it was overpowering.
He burst out laughing.
"Pet, I have to say, without any doubt, that this is the funniest piece I've ever read!" Spike wiped his eyes as he continued reading Buffy's "surefire" ways to get a woman into your apartment.
"You know they're all bullshit, right?" Buffy asked. Spike cocked an eyebrow.
"Well, yeah. I'm not a bloody idiot, luv. I know a thing or two about women." Buffy nodded.
"So I've heard." Spike opened his mouth indignantly, but Buffy cut him off.
"Some of them are more sarcastic than just down right stupid, is that okay?" Spike glanced through the paper.
"Which ones are you talking about?"
"Um, like, 13." Spike grazed his finger down the list and stopped at 13, which read: "When you first meet a woman, you absolutely *must * compliment *everything* she does. From her shoes to her makeup and the way she holds her glass, not to mention the way she sits and that tiny freckle on her arm. There is nothing that you should not compliment. Let loose and don't stop. Remember: everything with a 2-foot radius of her is free complimenting territory...use it! And, as an added bonus, since it changes with every woman, there's no way she could know it was a line!"
Spike smirked.
"I think you underestimate the intelligence of our readers."
"Do you really blame me?" Buffy asked. Spike shrugged.
"Our readers pick up our magazine for some R&R..."
"And masturbation material." Buffy added under her breath. Spike quirked an eyebrow at that and smirked.
"No, that would be our swimsuit fold in April." Buffy flushed bright red, embarrassed that Spike had heard her. Spike continued.
"Honestly, pet, the people who read it aren't always as terrible as you'd think. And they're certainly not all rednecks."
"I never said they were rednecks!" Buffy replied defensively.
"You implied it." Spike said, yanking her chain. Buffy sputtered angrily and flailed her arms wildly, until she just decided to sulk. Spike glanced up at her and smiled for a moment, mentally noting that she had an adorable side to her bombshell good looks. He shook his head, really not wanting to go there.
He clapped his hands and leaned back in his chair.
"I thought you'd take longer to write it. I don't have anything else for you to do." He said, staring up at the ceiling. He pushed away from his desk, his chair rolling backwards and bumping the wall. Spike's hand flashed out and clutched the window still in order to steady himself and he smirked again. Buffy was beginning to either really hate or really love that smirk. She couldn't tell.
"You can leave, if you want." Spike offered. Buffy shrugged.
"I'd feel weird. Leaving early on my first day...it seems a little unprofessional."
"That's cuz it is. Fine. You'll stay. I'll think of something for you to do, but til then you can...get yourself acquaintanced with the set-up of the place, introduce yourself to some of your co-workers...whatever works for ya." Buffy smiled and turned to leave, but stopped.
"Spike, I noticed that Cordelia's column was called Brunette. What's mine gonna be?" Spike gave her his customary smirk.
"Fake Blonde."
~
"Can you believe that?! Fake Blonde! It's so..." Buffy shook herself and pretended to get the chills.
"Derogatory?" Willow offered, as sat down the last box in Buffy's new LA apartment.
" * Very * derogatory. I just don't know who he thinks he is." Buffy said, sitting down on a crate.
"Here's a funny thought." Xander said as he emerged from Buffy's bedroom, "Maybe he thinks he's, oh, I don't know, your boss?" Buffy stuck her tongue out at him.
"Whose side are you on, anyway?" She asked.
"Just call me Switzerland." He said with a lopsided grin. Buffy scowled and flipped her hair behind her back as Xander shrugged at Oz. From the center of the room, Willow sniffed and looked around the apartment, hugging her arms closely to her torso.
"So, this is it, huh?" Willow said, her voice wavering with unshed tears. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Geez, Will. I'm just moving to Los Angeles. I'll see you practically every weekend, I promise. How are you gonna react when I move to New York?" Buffy asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"Don't even mention that." Willow said, her voice lacking in any teasing quality. Buffy smiled sadly and hugged her friend.
"Willow," Buffy said, still clutching her best friend, who had finally begun crying, "I'm gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine. Nothing's gonna change! It'll just be a longer drive for us to see each other."
"It's not just that!" Willow coughed out, wiping the fallen tears with the back of her hand. Oz took the back of her shoulders and rubbed them slowly. Buffy raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"Everything's changing! You've got a job, I've got an internship, Oz and I are getting married..." Buffy's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline at that comment.
"What?! When did this happen?" Buffy asked with a huge grin. Willow sent out a small laugh, but kept mumbling all the things that had changed.
"Last night." Oz said, still rubbing his distraught fiancée's shoulders. "We were gonna tell you all at dinner tomorrow, but it looks like Willow had different plans."
"...and my goldfish died, and... " Oz gently nudged Willow, which broke her out of her trance. She smiled sheepishly and held out her hands.
"So, yeah! Oz and I are getting married!" Buffy put her hands to her mouth and then brought them down abruptly, looking on the verge of tears herself.
"Oh my God...you * guys! *" She ran over and engulfed them both in a huge bear hug, "I am so incredibly happy for you!" Xander joined in the group hug, and then picked Willow out from it and spun her around in the air. Buffy rushed over to the redhead when Xander had finally placed her down and began chatting about all the essentials...the size of the ring, the size of the wedding, who the bridesmaids were gonna be (Buffy was to be the Maid of Honor, of course), if Oz's band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, were going to play at the wedding, if they were going to have a Rabbi preside, if they were going to invite that weird groupie guy who always came to the Dingoes shows and threw his boxer shorts at Devon, the lead singer... Meanwhile, Xander shook Oz's hand firmly and congratulated him a thousand times.
"We're hoping for a February wedding." Willow announced.
"We are?" Oz asked.
"We are." Willow confirmed.
"February, huh? That's, like, 7 months from now." Xander figured in his head.
"Well, we need time to plan everything. We're gonna have a * huge * wedding. Practically monstrous!"
"We are?" Oz asked again.
"We are." Willow replied with a sickly sweet smile. Oz nodded eagerly, but when the girls turned away, he shot a desperate look to Xander and gulped.
Xander laughed. He had a feeling the next few months were going to be very interesting for his short best friend.
~
"You're late." Anya greeted Buffy at the elevator as she walked into the office. Buffy scrunched her eyebrows in confusion and looked down at her watch.
"It's 9:01." Buffy replied. Anya nodded.
"Which means you're technically late. Giles is here. Word of advice: Giles doesn't believe that cleanliness is next to godliness." Buffy waited for the other shoe to drop.
"Well...?" She finally asked. Anya sighed in frustration.
"Punctuality! Giles believes punctuality is next to godliness. Though it doesn't make as good of a quote...but still. Don't be late. Not even a minute. If your early you're on time and if your on time your late." With that, Anya patted Buffy on the head and went back to her office. Buffy shut her eyes and opened them again, still trying to accustom herself to the woman's way of speaking.
"You get used to it." Buffy turned around at the sound of her boss's voice and shook her head.
"I don't see how you could." Spike laughed.
"She talked to you about orgasms yet?" He asked. Buffy let out a small laugh.
"Unfortunately." Spike smirked and then looked down at the folder in his hand, "Here's your corrections. There's some in here that I want you to lengthen, cuz they could really be funny, but it just doesn't have enough. Then, there's others I want you to shorten, cuz they just aren't as funny to begin with." Buffy nodded, taking in all of his instructions. Spike smiled at her.
"You'll meet Giles, our other editor, at some point today. Til then, get workin', pet." With that, he retreated back into his office.
Buffy cleared her throat and walked to her desk, but was surprised to see a guy - a tall, dark, and handsome guy - leaning against it.
"Can I help you?" Buffy asked. The man smiled and extended his hand, which Buffy took.
"Angel O'Connor. I'm a photographer around here. Wow, you're quite the looker." Buffy blushed and twirled a strand of her hair.
"Well, I...I'm sorry. I'm Buffy Summers."
"I know. Look, I don't have much time. I have a shoot in about, oh, now. But for your column we're gonna feature a picture of you. Is that alright?"
"As long as it's tasteful." Buffy replied. Angel smiled.
"It will be. I promise. So, sometime next week? We've got awhile til the next issue comes out...you know it's bimonthly, right?" Buffy nodded.
"Next week should be fine."
"Great! I'll see you then. My studio is on the next floor; just tell Faith, my secretary, who you are and she'll send you right in." Angel paused, "You really are very beautiful."
"Thanks, so are you." Buffy blushed again at that, "I can't believe I just said that." Angel laughed.
"I took it as a compliment." Angel and Buffy locked eyes for a moment, before Angel gave a little wave and left. Buffy sighed wistfully and a tiny smile pulled at her lips.
Maybe working at S&M wouldn't be * so * terrible...
~
Spike's eyes darkened with anger as he watched Angel walk away from Buffy. It was strange, but somehow, Spike had grown somewhat protective of the blonde. She was certainly more naïve than most of the female writers at S&M...she just seemed...more pure. Well, maybe pure wasn't the * best * word, as Spike remembered her little masturbation comment from earlier, but there *was* something more unique about her. Which was why he, in his mind, had agreed with Anya to not touch her.
Not that he didn't want to.
But that was besides the point.
Spike was a player. He knew it. Everyone knew it. Hell, from that little comment Buffy had made, she knew it too. But as much of a womanizer as he was, there was one man who surpassed him by a mile. That, of course, was Angel.
Spike thought as he covertly lit a cigarette, keeping his eye out for Anya or Giles, both of whom would have his head if they caught him. A small voice in the back of Spike's mind nagged that he himself was a stereotype...rich, successful boss-type who slept with every beautiful woman he met. But he ignored it, as always. He cared about Buffy, in a strange sort of way. Not in a romantic way (at least, he didn't think so), but in a more...friendship way. Like she had been a good friend of his since college, who he was suddenly reunited with. Or even better, like she was the younger sister of his best friend from childhood, suddenly all grown-up. He felt a strange sort of instant connection to the chit.
Spike smirked to himself, knowing that he needed to keep Buffy safe from the usual office melodrama that occurred.
But before he could do that, he needed to actually become her friend first.
~
Buffy bit her lip as she erased everything she had typed, frustrated at herself. She breathed in and blinked, ready to start anew.
"Surefire Ways to Get Her to Your Apartment"
Buffy scowled as she typed the title, but kept it anyway, realizing it was more tasteful than what most of the writers surrounding her were coming up with. One guy had actually named his piece "Hot, Steamy Brunettes Rubbing Oil on Themselves: The Truth About Your Woman's Lesbian Fantasies and How to Make Her Indulge in Them." Buffy could only hope that Spike, Anya, or the ever-elusive Mr. Giles would make him change it. Though, looking at some of the other stories from previous issues, it didn't look likely.
"#1..." Buffy whispered as she typed, "Umm...#1..."
Buffy was about to type that there were no surefire ways when she remembered what Spike had told her. No Just-Be-Yourself piece.
Suddenly, Buffy smiled to herself...an idea was blossoming in her head.
Who said she wasn't allowed to have fun?
~
Spike was normally able to contain himself, but it was just too much. The need, the urge...it was overpowering.
He burst out laughing.
"Pet, I have to say, without any doubt, that this is the funniest piece I've ever read!" Spike wiped his eyes as he continued reading Buffy's "surefire" ways to get a woman into your apartment.
"You know they're all bullshit, right?" Buffy asked. Spike cocked an eyebrow.
"Well, yeah. I'm not a bloody idiot, luv. I know a thing or two about women." Buffy nodded.
"So I've heard." Spike opened his mouth indignantly, but Buffy cut him off.
"Some of them are more sarcastic than just down right stupid, is that okay?" Spike glanced through the paper.
"Which ones are you talking about?"
"Um, like, 13." Spike grazed his finger down the list and stopped at 13, which read: "When you first meet a woman, you absolutely *must * compliment *everything* she does. From her shoes to her makeup and the way she holds her glass, not to mention the way she sits and that tiny freckle on her arm. There is nothing that you should not compliment. Let loose and don't stop. Remember: everything with a 2-foot radius of her is free complimenting territory...use it! And, as an added bonus, since it changes with every woman, there's no way she could know it was a line!"
Spike smirked.
"I think you underestimate the intelligence of our readers."
"Do you really blame me?" Buffy asked. Spike shrugged.
"Our readers pick up our magazine for some R&R..."
"And masturbation material." Buffy added under her breath. Spike quirked an eyebrow at that and smirked.
"No, that would be our swimsuit fold in April." Buffy flushed bright red, embarrassed that Spike had heard her. Spike continued.
"Honestly, pet, the people who read it aren't always as terrible as you'd think. And they're certainly not all rednecks."
"I never said they were rednecks!" Buffy replied defensively.
"You implied it." Spike said, yanking her chain. Buffy sputtered angrily and flailed her arms wildly, until she just decided to sulk. Spike glanced up at her and smiled for a moment, mentally noting that she had an adorable side to her bombshell good looks. He shook his head, really not wanting to go there.
He clapped his hands and leaned back in his chair.
"I thought you'd take longer to write it. I don't have anything else for you to do." He said, staring up at the ceiling. He pushed away from his desk, his chair rolling backwards and bumping the wall. Spike's hand flashed out and clutched the window still in order to steady himself and he smirked again. Buffy was beginning to either really hate or really love that smirk. She couldn't tell.
"You can leave, if you want." Spike offered. Buffy shrugged.
"I'd feel weird. Leaving early on my first day...it seems a little unprofessional."
"That's cuz it is. Fine. You'll stay. I'll think of something for you to do, but til then you can...get yourself acquaintanced with the set-up of the place, introduce yourself to some of your co-workers...whatever works for ya." Buffy smiled and turned to leave, but stopped.
"Spike, I noticed that Cordelia's column was called Brunette. What's mine gonna be?" Spike gave her his customary smirk.
"Fake Blonde."
~
"Can you believe that?! Fake Blonde! It's so..." Buffy shook herself and pretended to get the chills.
"Derogatory?" Willow offered, as sat down the last box in Buffy's new LA apartment.
" * Very * derogatory. I just don't know who he thinks he is." Buffy said, sitting down on a crate.
"Here's a funny thought." Xander said as he emerged from Buffy's bedroom, "Maybe he thinks he's, oh, I don't know, your boss?" Buffy stuck her tongue out at him.
"Whose side are you on, anyway?" She asked.
"Just call me Switzerland." He said with a lopsided grin. Buffy scowled and flipped her hair behind her back as Xander shrugged at Oz. From the center of the room, Willow sniffed and looked around the apartment, hugging her arms closely to her torso.
"So, this is it, huh?" Willow said, her voice wavering with unshed tears. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Geez, Will. I'm just moving to Los Angeles. I'll see you practically every weekend, I promise. How are you gonna react when I move to New York?" Buffy asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"Don't even mention that." Willow said, her voice lacking in any teasing quality. Buffy smiled sadly and hugged her friend.
"Willow," Buffy said, still clutching her best friend, who had finally begun crying, "I'm gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine. Nothing's gonna change! It'll just be a longer drive for us to see each other."
"It's not just that!" Willow coughed out, wiping the fallen tears with the back of her hand. Oz took the back of her shoulders and rubbed them slowly. Buffy raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"Everything's changing! You've got a job, I've got an internship, Oz and I are getting married..." Buffy's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline at that comment.
"What?! When did this happen?" Buffy asked with a huge grin. Willow sent out a small laugh, but kept mumbling all the things that had changed.
"Last night." Oz said, still rubbing his distraught fiancée's shoulders. "We were gonna tell you all at dinner tomorrow, but it looks like Willow had different plans."
"...and my goldfish died, and... " Oz gently nudged Willow, which broke her out of her trance. She smiled sheepishly and held out her hands.
"So, yeah! Oz and I are getting married!" Buffy put her hands to her mouth and then brought them down abruptly, looking on the verge of tears herself.
"Oh my God...you * guys! *" She ran over and engulfed them both in a huge bear hug, "I am so incredibly happy for you!" Xander joined in the group hug, and then picked Willow out from it and spun her around in the air. Buffy rushed over to the redhead when Xander had finally placed her down and began chatting about all the essentials...the size of the ring, the size of the wedding, who the bridesmaids were gonna be (Buffy was to be the Maid of Honor, of course), if Oz's band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, were going to play at the wedding, if they were going to have a Rabbi preside, if they were going to invite that weird groupie guy who always came to the Dingoes shows and threw his boxer shorts at Devon, the lead singer... Meanwhile, Xander shook Oz's hand firmly and congratulated him a thousand times.
"We're hoping for a February wedding." Willow announced.
"We are?" Oz asked.
"We are." Willow confirmed.
"February, huh? That's, like, 7 months from now." Xander figured in his head.
"Well, we need time to plan everything. We're gonna have a * huge * wedding. Practically monstrous!"
"We are?" Oz asked again.
"We are." Willow replied with a sickly sweet smile. Oz nodded eagerly, but when the girls turned away, he shot a desperate look to Xander and gulped.
Xander laughed. He had a feeling the next few months were going to be very interesting for his short best friend.
~
"You're late." Anya greeted Buffy at the elevator as she walked into the office. Buffy scrunched her eyebrows in confusion and looked down at her watch.
"It's 9:01." Buffy replied. Anya nodded.
"Which means you're technically late. Giles is here. Word of advice: Giles doesn't believe that cleanliness is next to godliness." Buffy waited for the other shoe to drop.
"Well...?" She finally asked. Anya sighed in frustration.
"Punctuality! Giles believes punctuality is next to godliness. Though it doesn't make as good of a quote...but still. Don't be late. Not even a minute. If your early you're on time and if your on time your late." With that, Anya patted Buffy on the head and went back to her office. Buffy shut her eyes and opened them again, still trying to accustom herself to the woman's way of speaking.
"You get used to it." Buffy turned around at the sound of her boss's voice and shook her head.
"I don't see how you could." Spike laughed.
"She talked to you about orgasms yet?" He asked. Buffy let out a small laugh.
"Unfortunately." Spike smirked and then looked down at the folder in his hand, "Here's your corrections. There's some in here that I want you to lengthen, cuz they could really be funny, but it just doesn't have enough. Then, there's others I want you to shorten, cuz they just aren't as funny to begin with." Buffy nodded, taking in all of his instructions. Spike smiled at her.
"You'll meet Giles, our other editor, at some point today. Til then, get workin', pet." With that, he retreated back into his office.
Buffy cleared her throat and walked to her desk, but was surprised to see a guy - a tall, dark, and handsome guy - leaning against it.
"Can I help you?" Buffy asked. The man smiled and extended his hand, which Buffy took.
"Angel O'Connor. I'm a photographer around here. Wow, you're quite the looker." Buffy blushed and twirled a strand of her hair.
"Well, I...I'm sorry. I'm Buffy Summers."
"I know. Look, I don't have much time. I have a shoot in about, oh, now. But for your column we're gonna feature a picture of you. Is that alright?"
"As long as it's tasteful." Buffy replied. Angel smiled.
"It will be. I promise. So, sometime next week? We've got awhile til the next issue comes out...you know it's bimonthly, right?" Buffy nodded.
"Next week should be fine."
"Great! I'll see you then. My studio is on the next floor; just tell Faith, my secretary, who you are and she'll send you right in." Angel paused, "You really are very beautiful."
"Thanks, so are you." Buffy blushed again at that, "I can't believe I just said that." Angel laughed.
"I took it as a compliment." Angel and Buffy locked eyes for a moment, before Angel gave a little wave and left. Buffy sighed wistfully and a tiny smile pulled at her lips.
Maybe working at S&M wouldn't be * so * terrible...
~
Spike's eyes darkened with anger as he watched Angel walk away from Buffy. It was strange, but somehow, Spike had grown somewhat protective of the blonde. She was certainly more naïve than most of the female writers at S&M...she just seemed...more pure. Well, maybe pure wasn't the * best * word, as Spike remembered her little masturbation comment from earlier, but there *was* something more unique about her. Which was why he, in his mind, had agreed with Anya to not touch her.
Not that he didn't want to.
But that was besides the point.
Spike was a player. He knew it. Everyone knew it. Hell, from that little comment Buffy had made, she knew it too. But as much of a womanizer as he was, there was one man who surpassed him by a mile. That, of course, was Angel.
Spike thought as he covertly lit a cigarette, keeping his eye out for Anya or Giles, both of whom would have his head if they caught him. A small voice in the back of Spike's mind nagged that he himself was a stereotype...rich, successful boss-type who slept with every beautiful woman he met. But he ignored it, as always. He cared about Buffy, in a strange sort of way. Not in a romantic way (at least, he didn't think so), but in a more...friendship way. Like she had been a good friend of his since college, who he was suddenly reunited with. Or even better, like she was the younger sister of his best friend from childhood, suddenly all grown-up. He felt a strange sort of instant connection to the chit.
Spike smirked to himself, knowing that he needed to keep Buffy safe from the usual office melodrama that occurred.
But before he could do that, he needed to actually become her friend first.
~