Buffy reached out from the depths of her flowered comforter and moved her
hand towards the alarm clock. Eyes still closed, her hands missed the
snooze button and instead connected with the edge of clock, sending it
flying to the floor. "Dammit," Buffy swore as she sat up and opened her
eyes to survey the damage. The alarm lay on the floor, still beeping
relentlessly, but otherwise it was no worse for wear. Buffy pushed the off
button and smiled grimly as she placed the clock back on her night table.
Six am is too early for any normal person to be awake, Buffy thought. She
stumbled sleepily into the bathroom muttering, "I need a cup of coffee."
Without even bothering to turn on the lights, she dropped her pajamas on
the tile floor before turning on the shower. As the steaming water cascaded
over her body, Buffy mentally reviewed her day. She had an eight o'clock
meeting with David and then a constant stream of morning appointments that
were temporarily interrupted by her lunch meeting with the head of Galore,
a fashion company that Buffy was taking over. She just had a few last-
minute details to iron out with the lawyer in charge of handling the
technical details of this merger.
"Welcome to my life," Buffy sighed with exasperation, "meetings and phone calls. When do I get to design clothes?" She shook her head, talking to oneself was not a good sigh. It was something she had always associated with absent-minded people like Giles, not something she did. She stepped out of the shower, staring blankly at herself in the steam-covered mirror, "I need a life, when did I become such a workaholic?" The answer hung in the air, whispered from the dark recesses of her mind, "when Spike left you".
"No!" Buffy screamed, slamming her fist down on the marble countertop. "I am not going to indulge in self-pity over an un-dead ex-boyfriend. I don't have time for it. I moved on. Besides, New York is full of interesting people, it's just a matter of time." She had wasted the better part of Sunday rehashing her past and was determined not to let it happen again. She didn't know whether she was trying to convince herself or if she was just trying to strengthen her externally detached persona. Even as Buffy got dressed, her words kept replaying through her mind and the thought keep coming up-If there were so many interesting people in New York, why hadn't she met anyone? Why was she still alone?
Twenty minutes later, Buffy grimaced as she caught a glimpse of the kitchen clock. Hurriedly she poured her coffee into a travel mug as she gathered up her leather briefcase and purse. "Coat," she muttered, reaching into the closet for her leather duster-jacket, she corrected herself, not duster. The autumn air had a slight chill that made Buffy miss California even more. She could never get used to the weather in New York. Her first city winter was one of the most hellish experiences of her life, complete with driving in the ice and almost getting killed by a series of taxicabs. The sun was shining brightly when she left her building and Buffy debated between walking and taking a cab. A quick look at her watch confirmed that she needed to take a cab if she wanted to make a conference call with her accountant before her meeting with David.
"Sod it," Buffy swore, "Susan can wait. No sense in wasting a beautiful morning just to go over tax returns." She was so involved in not getting mowed down by cars that Buffy didn't even notice her slip of the tongue. Over the last few years, British slang and swear words had made their way into her everyday vocabulary. Most people thought it gave her character although no one dared to tell her. In the fashion world, she was a mini- lioness, sweet with a fierce prowess that made her one of the most sought- after costume designers on Broadway.
Buffy stopped at Starbucks to grab another cup of coffee before heading down the block towards her office. As she left the coffee house, a man with platinum blonde hair caught her eye. Buffy stood frozen to the spot, watching his retreating back; the sun shone against his white-blonde hair, a sharp contrast to his black jacket. "Sorry," Buffy muttered as she bumped into people. Snap out of it Buffy, you cannot do this to yourself again, she thought. It had taken her a long time to get over Spike and she couldn't afford to start dwelling on the past. I need to go out and get a life, Buffy thought, I need to stop thinking about vamps. There's a new Slayer and it's time for me to move on and start looking for a normal boyfriend-one with a heartbeat.
The rest of Buffy's morning passed in a blur, she was moving on in auto- pilot, just going through the motions of another day. Right before lunch, David stuck his head in Buffy's door. "Hey Buffy," he said with a wide smile, his light brown eyes surveying her spacious office. "Oh, hi David. What are you still doing here? I thought you had a meeting with the choreographer this afternoon," Buffy said, her brow wrinkled in confusion. David chuckled at her expression, "Rodney pulled a muscle in his thigh, so I cancelled the meeting, there's no sense in trying to choreograph the act without a lead dancer." He leaned over her desk, his dark eyes staring intently at Buffy. "I was just stopping in to see if my favorite fashion queen wanted to go to lunch. Stephen's stuck at the studio with Lisa, so I have a reservation that will go to waste if you turn me down." Buffy looked back down at her papers, shuffling them around in an effort to avoid eye contact. She could only imagine the puppy-dog eyes he was sending in her direction.
The last thing she wanted to do today was go to lunch with him. Ever since she had accepted his job offer and moved to New York, David had tried on numerous occasions to pursue a relationship with Buffy. He had dropped hints and most of their conversations ended on a flirtatious note. David was everything she should want in a guy but Buffy didn't want a relationship with him. He was her first friend in New York; she wanted to maintain that closeness without bringing all the emotional issues that accompanied a romance. Buffy was not ready to throw herself into the time- consuming, emotionally-draining world of dating.
Her cheeks cracked with effort as she plastered on a fake smile, resisting the urge to throw things at the middle-aged producer. "David, thanks, but I had a really rough weekend and I have a ton of work to catch up on. So, how about a rain check?" His face fell a bit, but David plastered on the infamous smile that he used to win over reporters and critics; a smile that had little effect on Buffy. "Alright Buffy," he said, placing his hands on the edge of her oak desk so that their faces were inches apart. "How about dinner?" She shook her head, "thanks but no.I have way too much work to catch up on."
David's eyes dimmed with disappointment. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem a little preoccupied," he pressed, his voice a low whisper. Buffy locked eyes with him for an instant, letting out a short laugh, "Oh, I'm fine. I just wanted to get Leo the sketches for the last scene by Thursday so I pushed everything else into the background for a couple of days. Now I've got some catching up to do. That's all, otherwise I'd take you up on that offer." She was careful to keep the sarcasm out of her voice; there was no sense in snapping at David, it wasn't his fault that she was still in love with someone else.
Buffy turned back to her computer and kept typing an e-mail to Giles, trying to make it look like something important. "Alright Buffy, I'll just take a raincheck," David said as he left the office. When she finally broke from the keyboard, Buffy let out a sigh of relief, glad she had weaseled her way out of lunch. She wasn't ready to pretend that everything was perfect; for the first time in months, she didn't want to deal with someone else's opinions about how she should live her life. She was so tired of having to worry about everyone's expectations of her. Reaching for a file on her desk, Buffy turned back to her work, shutting out everything except the keyboard beneath her fingertips.
"Welcome to my life," Buffy sighed with exasperation, "meetings and phone calls. When do I get to design clothes?" She shook her head, talking to oneself was not a good sigh. It was something she had always associated with absent-minded people like Giles, not something she did. She stepped out of the shower, staring blankly at herself in the steam-covered mirror, "I need a life, when did I become such a workaholic?" The answer hung in the air, whispered from the dark recesses of her mind, "when Spike left you".
"No!" Buffy screamed, slamming her fist down on the marble countertop. "I am not going to indulge in self-pity over an un-dead ex-boyfriend. I don't have time for it. I moved on. Besides, New York is full of interesting people, it's just a matter of time." She had wasted the better part of Sunday rehashing her past and was determined not to let it happen again. She didn't know whether she was trying to convince herself or if she was just trying to strengthen her externally detached persona. Even as Buffy got dressed, her words kept replaying through her mind and the thought keep coming up-If there were so many interesting people in New York, why hadn't she met anyone? Why was she still alone?
Twenty minutes later, Buffy grimaced as she caught a glimpse of the kitchen clock. Hurriedly she poured her coffee into a travel mug as she gathered up her leather briefcase and purse. "Coat," she muttered, reaching into the closet for her leather duster-jacket, she corrected herself, not duster. The autumn air had a slight chill that made Buffy miss California even more. She could never get used to the weather in New York. Her first city winter was one of the most hellish experiences of her life, complete with driving in the ice and almost getting killed by a series of taxicabs. The sun was shining brightly when she left her building and Buffy debated between walking and taking a cab. A quick look at her watch confirmed that she needed to take a cab if she wanted to make a conference call with her accountant before her meeting with David.
"Sod it," Buffy swore, "Susan can wait. No sense in wasting a beautiful morning just to go over tax returns." She was so involved in not getting mowed down by cars that Buffy didn't even notice her slip of the tongue. Over the last few years, British slang and swear words had made their way into her everyday vocabulary. Most people thought it gave her character although no one dared to tell her. In the fashion world, she was a mini- lioness, sweet with a fierce prowess that made her one of the most sought- after costume designers on Broadway.
Buffy stopped at Starbucks to grab another cup of coffee before heading down the block towards her office. As she left the coffee house, a man with platinum blonde hair caught her eye. Buffy stood frozen to the spot, watching his retreating back; the sun shone against his white-blonde hair, a sharp contrast to his black jacket. "Sorry," Buffy muttered as she bumped into people. Snap out of it Buffy, you cannot do this to yourself again, she thought. It had taken her a long time to get over Spike and she couldn't afford to start dwelling on the past. I need to go out and get a life, Buffy thought, I need to stop thinking about vamps. There's a new Slayer and it's time for me to move on and start looking for a normal boyfriend-one with a heartbeat.
The rest of Buffy's morning passed in a blur, she was moving on in auto- pilot, just going through the motions of another day. Right before lunch, David stuck his head in Buffy's door. "Hey Buffy," he said with a wide smile, his light brown eyes surveying her spacious office. "Oh, hi David. What are you still doing here? I thought you had a meeting with the choreographer this afternoon," Buffy said, her brow wrinkled in confusion. David chuckled at her expression, "Rodney pulled a muscle in his thigh, so I cancelled the meeting, there's no sense in trying to choreograph the act without a lead dancer." He leaned over her desk, his dark eyes staring intently at Buffy. "I was just stopping in to see if my favorite fashion queen wanted to go to lunch. Stephen's stuck at the studio with Lisa, so I have a reservation that will go to waste if you turn me down." Buffy looked back down at her papers, shuffling them around in an effort to avoid eye contact. She could only imagine the puppy-dog eyes he was sending in her direction.
The last thing she wanted to do today was go to lunch with him. Ever since she had accepted his job offer and moved to New York, David had tried on numerous occasions to pursue a relationship with Buffy. He had dropped hints and most of their conversations ended on a flirtatious note. David was everything she should want in a guy but Buffy didn't want a relationship with him. He was her first friend in New York; she wanted to maintain that closeness without bringing all the emotional issues that accompanied a romance. Buffy was not ready to throw herself into the time- consuming, emotionally-draining world of dating.
Her cheeks cracked with effort as she plastered on a fake smile, resisting the urge to throw things at the middle-aged producer. "David, thanks, but I had a really rough weekend and I have a ton of work to catch up on. So, how about a rain check?" His face fell a bit, but David plastered on the infamous smile that he used to win over reporters and critics; a smile that had little effect on Buffy. "Alright Buffy," he said, placing his hands on the edge of her oak desk so that their faces were inches apart. "How about dinner?" She shook her head, "thanks but no.I have way too much work to catch up on."
David's eyes dimmed with disappointment. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem a little preoccupied," he pressed, his voice a low whisper. Buffy locked eyes with him for an instant, letting out a short laugh, "Oh, I'm fine. I just wanted to get Leo the sketches for the last scene by Thursday so I pushed everything else into the background for a couple of days. Now I've got some catching up to do. That's all, otherwise I'd take you up on that offer." She was careful to keep the sarcasm out of her voice; there was no sense in snapping at David, it wasn't his fault that she was still in love with someone else.
Buffy turned back to her computer and kept typing an e-mail to Giles, trying to make it look like something important. "Alright Buffy, I'll just take a raincheck," David said as he left the office. When she finally broke from the keyboard, Buffy let out a sigh of relief, glad she had weaseled her way out of lunch. She wasn't ready to pretend that everything was perfect; for the first time in months, she didn't want to deal with someone else's opinions about how she should live her life. She was so tired of having to worry about everyone's expectations of her. Reaching for a file on her desk, Buffy turned back to her work, shutting out everything except the keyboard beneath her fingertips.
