Buffy's tires squealed as she pulled into the parking lot of her office building. Her morning meeting with her company's lawyer had gone well, getting her day off to a positive start. Breathlessly, she removed the key from the ignition and began to grab all the papers she had thrown atop her briefcase. She had just stepped out of the car, her briefcase finally in order when she ducked back in to pull out the still unopened bottle of juice. Locking her door, Buffy walked through the front doors of Luster. She absolutely loved the way light spilled through her high-ceilings and the five skylights she had begged Xander to install, it gave the foyer a warm and inviting feeling. Her cranberry juice in hand, Buffy walked across the entranceway to the elevator bay, not in the mood to walk up to her office.

The elevator was making its slow ascent when Buffy's purse let out a shrill ring. She rummaged through it with one hand, searching for her cell phone. Glancing at the number, she smiled before answering the call. "Willow! How are you," Buffy trilled into the silver phone. On the other side of California, Willow Rosenberg adjusted her Venetian blinds so brilliant sunlight shone into her Los Angeles office. Now a computer game designer, Willow's work kept her busy in the city and the two friends hardly ever had enough time to talk. Even though they talked weekly, there was always something else going on, so they snatched whatever precious minutes they had to catch up with the other.

"Nothing," the cheery red-head replied, rifling her hands through her shoulder length hair, "I was just sitting here and decided to see how life on the Hellmouth was treating you." Buffy raised a perfectly arch brow, but didn't press her friend for a more elaborate explanation. They hadn't talked in a few weeks and she still had forty minutes before her next meeting, plenty of time to catch up with her best friend. "So how's Tara feeling," Buffy asked, wondering how Willow's wife was handling pregnancy. Sitting down in her office, Willow leaned back in her chair, eyes dancing with excitement. "She's awesome, all glowy and beautiful. It's so surreal to think that we're actually having a baby. I mean he won't be here for another four months, but still," she squealed happily. Buffy smiled at Willow's excitement, "so she's still teaching?" Her best friend nodded, "yeah, she's going to finish out the year and then take an extended leave. I keep telling her to take it easy, but you know Tara.she can't bear to leave those kids unless she absolutely has to."

They chatted for a few more minutes before Willow could steer the conversation into a new direction. "Anyway Buffy, the real reason that I'm calling is that the word on the Internet is that some small business owner from Southern California is going to be working on costumes for David Bucan's new Broadway show." Buffy giggled, "and I suppose you think I know something about that," she asked, feigning ignorance. On the other end of the phone, Willow sighed, "well, I heard that she's some fashion designer who started her own line..and then I keep hearing all these rumors about David Bucan and how he's trying to get her out to New York so she can work on his show." Unable to contain her laughter, Buffy collapsed in her desk chair, giddy with excitement, "yeah, can't trust those rumors," she teased. Willow shrieked in astonishment, "I knew it was you! I knew it!! Why didn't you tell me? I mean Buffy, this is huge, bigger then huge, it's astronomical. David Bucan is bigger then Andrew Lloyd Weber, for God's sake! That's so amazing!"

Buffy smiled as she walked down the bright corridor to get another cup of coffee, her cell phone still attached to her ear. "Yeah, it's really exciting," she chirped, "but it's all so sudden. I mean, I've only been in business for like four years, not even. And now this is just out of nowhere.I just got the contract in the mail yesterday but it's all moving so fast." Willow broke in excitedly, "what does Spike think?" Buffy's smile faded instantly and her voice lost some of its confidence. "He doesn't know," she whispered softly.

"What?!" Willow screeched so loudly that Buffy had to move the phone away from her air to save her hearing. Hurriedly, the blonde fashion designer struggled to defend her decision, "it's just that we would have to move to New York and that's a lot to ask of him. So I was waiting for the right time to tell him. I'm taking him to dinner tomorrow night and I'll tell him then. I just wanted to make sure that everything was definite before getting him all excited. But I'm going to tell him, I just need to wait a few more hours." She paused for an instant, "Willow you have to swear not to tell anybody, not even Tara. I don't want the whole world to find out before Spike does."

The redhead smiled, she understood Buffy not wanting to get Spike worked up until the actual contract had been signed; the peroxide blonde vampire didn't accept change well, he hadn't changed his hair or clothing style in over two decades. "Of course I won't tell anyone Buffy, but you better tell Spike soon. The rumors are flying all over the Internet and everyone wants to know more about you. This is like instant stardom! It's so great!" Buffy smiled at her friend's enthusiasm, her cheeks blushing from the profuse compliments. Grimacing at the three blinking phone lines on her desk phone, Buffy sighed heavily into the cell phone. "Wills I gotta get going, you know, go to work like the adult I am," she quipped dryly. "I'll call you next week and we can talk more," she continued, opening her e-mail inbox to reveal ninety-three unread message. Turning back to her own computer screen, Willow answered, "bye Buffy. And congratulations on the job."

Twenty minutes later, Buffy leaned back in her chair and sighed, the overstuffed leather cushioning her exhausted muscles. She had been answering phone calls since hanging up with Willow and the few seconds of silence were a welcome reprieve. Her body felt like it had run a marathon in the last two days and her emotions were stretched to their limit. The entire situation with David was overwhelming and coupled with her strange dreams, Buffy felt completely drained. "I'll go home early today," she murmured, "what I need is a hot bath and a glass of wine." The telephone rang, jarring Buffy from her thoughts. On reflex she reached out for the receiver without even opening her eyes. "Hello," she growled, her voice low. The puzzled voice on the other end asked, "Ms. Summers? This is David. David Bucan. I hope this isn't an inconvenient time."

Buffy shot straight up in her chair, her eyes fully open and alert. "Yes, Mr. Bucan, I'm here. No, this time's perfect. What can I help you with," she asked. The five minute conversation seemed like pure fluff compared to most of Buffy's business conversations. David was making sure that her lawyer had received the contract; he wanted to check and see that everything was in legal order. After assuring him that the signed contract was being mailed out that afternoon, Buffy had chatted with the producer about her upcoming transition from California to the Big Apple.

When she hung up the phone, a faint smile played over her lips as she thought of David, whom she had only met twice. He was thirty-six, a little over six feet tall, with thinning sandy-colored hair that complimented his broad frame. They had been introduced by one of David's choreographers who lived in Los Angeles and had discovered Buffy's designs in a local boutique. Buffy hadn't actually remembered the producer when he had called her office two weeks ago; he was just another face that she had breezed past during one of the many black-tie dinners thrown by her colleagues. She still couldn't believe that she, Buffy Summers, was going to be working with one of the biggest names in Broadway.

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blink as Buffy approved sketches and made even more phone calls. Glancing at the clock on her computer, she gasped when the digital numbers read 6:56. She gathered up her papers, stuffing them into her briefcase, pleased with her progress. "Time to go home," she said, shutting down the computer and turning off all the small lamps. She had made arrangements to move all of her belongings out to New York. David had put in a good word with a high-rise building in the City and Buffy had spent the better part of an hour discussing her new apartment. Money wasn't an issue but she wanted to live conservatively, at least until this job felt more permanent. She had also arranged to have the vice president of the company step up in her absence, keeping Luster based out of Sunnydale. With a sense of satisfaction, Buffy threw away her unopened bottle of cranberry juice, mentally running through her list of things to do. "Everything's almost done," Buffy whispered under her breath as she turned off her office light. The only thing left was to tell Spike.