Trial & Error
Chapter 3
Buffy stumbled ungracefully through her front door. The grocery bags, so helpfully packed by a pimply-faced teen at the market, were overfull and it was a guarantee that the most delicate items where invariably now a mass of unidentifiable lumps in the bottom of the brown paper bags.
'Why do I always say paper when they ask?" she lamented for the thousandth time.
As she passed through the living room she threw her newly laundered dress over the back of the armchair nearest the door. Staggering into the kitchen with her load, she was pleasantly surprised to find it clean and tidy, and as promised the note from Dawn was tacked to the fridge door. She put the bags on the central counter and reached for the note.
Hey Buffy,
I'm so sorry for forgetting your dress and the groceries.
I ordered pizza and left yours in the fridge. I know there'll be
food at the party, but if I know you won't have eaten at all today.
I'll call tomorrow morning to let you know when I'll be home.
I had a quick cleanup. Here's Susanne's phone number. 555-2768
Love you. Enjoy.
Dawnie.
*Wow a little guilt and we get instant housekeeping. Maybe she should forget stuff more often*
Buffy reconsidered. It was nice Dawn had tidied and got some dinner but it didn't really make up for the inconvenience of having had to go to the drycleaners and then the grocery store. She had needed the time for study. She was doing well, only another ten months and with luck her degree would be finished, and her life could be her own again. But any more set backs and it would be another year and ten months before she could sit her final exams.
She replaced the note on the refrigerator. Leaving the kitchen, she grabbed the dress from the chair and wandered down the hallway to her room. The house was basic but Xander's experience and hard work had made it open and homey. It had three bedrooms, the spare one of which Buffy used as her study, two bathrooms a kitchen with an accompanying laundry room, and a spacious living area. The backyard consisted of a small deck and an even smaller green patch.
She hung the dress from her bedroom door and started a bath in the en suite bathroom. Liberally adding relaxing bath salts to the running water, she returned to the kitchen to pack away the shopping as her bath filled. She really should have a shower it'd be quicker. But the restorative effects of a bath were sorely needed. She noticed her answer -phone was flashing and pressed Playback.
Bleep
"Hey Buffy," Willow's voice rang out. "We're all coming over to your place tomorrow. No excuses. We know you've got the Ball tonight so we won't turn up too early. We'll let ourselves in. Xander's itching to prove his manliness with a demonstration of burning animal flesh over an open flame."
In the background the sounds of Xander making caveman noises could be heard, along with Anya's pleased squeals and a statement that they would have to try the 'caveman drags woman back to cave scenario' complete with the leopard skin loincloth tonight.
Buffy shuddered at the image. TMI. But she couldn't stop the little thought that rose in the back of her head. * They already have the loincloth? *
". So make sure the barbecue's available. We'll bring everything else. "
Then Willow's voice lowered to a whisper, "I've got something important to talk to you about. Toodles for now."
Buffy glared at the innocent machine. The first time Willow had used the phrase 'I've got something important to talk to you about' she had come out of the closet. The last time was to tell Buffy that Parker had been cheating on her. That phrase was never followed without life changing information.
Bleep.
"Buffy hi. It's Angel." Buffy raised her eyebrows, she'd known Angel for four years now and every time he used the telephone he'd explain it was him. Didn't he think she had any vocal recognition abilities at all?
"There's been a small change in plans. I'll be there at seven. See you then."
A quick glance at the living room clock told her that she had only an hour to make herself presentable for the social and charitable occasion of the year.
Whoever said charity begins at home was sorely mistaken she mused as she grabbed the cold pizza Dawn had left, and retreated to the bathroom. In all, the charity events she was required to attend as the escort of Angel Connor, only left her with a sense of emptiness. Sure, the rich people turned out and they gave their money, but so much of it was done only to be seen.
Smiling rich men and women gave up cheques with the amount blatantly obvious, to causes they deemed worthy, in front of the city's media to promote themselves or make themselves feel good. Usually In the knowledge that they'd be paying twice that amount next week buying Randy junior the latest Beemer to replace the one he'd wrapped around the nearest lamppost after the last frat party.
Much of the money did get to those that needed it but only after the organisers took their skim off of the top. There were so many charities that needed the money. At least with Angel she got to promote a few that were dear to her heart.
After she finished her second slice of pizza she began to undress. She removed the sharp little business suit Hank insisted she wore to the office, and her undergarments. As she turned to shut off the taps she caught a glimpse of her nude reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She stood and for the first time in a long while took a good look at herself.
There she was - Elizabeth Anne Summers.
But Buffy had one small question. Who was she really? When she looked in the mirror she saw a petite blonde woman free of the baby fat that she had finally shifted during her time at college after joining a Tae Kwon- do class.
But that was what she was, not who. Seven years ago she could have said who she was. An Art lover, a romantic, an idealist. An innocent. Now? Now she didn't have the faintest idea. Too much had changed.
The humidity from the bath reached the mirror and, just briefly through the haze it created on the cold glass, she saw herself as she had been back then. A plain, overweight nineteen-year-old with glasses playing at being an adult.
How did she ever really believe that HE had seen beyond the outward appearances? She'd seriously thought he had seen into her soul. She'd been naive and oh so very easy. He must have laughed himself sick reading her note that next morning, knowing she had given him her virginity. He probably thought he had done her a favour; certainly no one else had wanted it.
As she stared at her reflection unbidden memories began to form.
"Do you like it?" asked a nervous Buffy as she approached the young man with disorderly honey blonde curls that had been gazing at the sculpture hidden away against one side of the gallery wall.
The man continued to peer at the abstract figure through his wire-rimmed glasses. "Excuse me?" he answered with an English accent, without turning.
"Do you like it? This sculpture, do you like it? It's just you've been looking at it for the past ten minutes so I wondered if you liked it. Because I figured if you didn't like it then you probably wouldn't keep looking at it, and I'm rambling so I'll just go away now. Bye."
Just as she turned to leave him to his intense scrutiny he spoke. "It has.passion."
"It has?" she turned back to take another look at it.
"Don't you think so?"
"Well yes I do. But my thoughts aren't really relevant."
"They're not? And why would that be?"
"Well when you sculpt something you know what the piece is trying to tell you, but you never really know if you manage to capture that meaning or not. You're too close to it.."
"You created this." he paused as if searching for the perfect word.
"This what?" she asked warily, desperate to know what he thought.
"This wonderful, majestic form."
"Majestic? Really? Wow." Actually Buffy wasn't completely sure if the final wow in her sentence had been because of her reaction to his words of praise, or to the fact she'd just got her first good look at his face, more specifically the very blue eyes now looking at her.
"May I ask your name? I'll keep an eye out for any future works you create. I am sure there will be many."
"Beth Summers."
"And I am William Calendar."
Buffy mentally kicked herself *No. No more*. She climbed into the bath and placed all thoughts other than dress, shoes, hair and makeup out of her mind. She was good at denial. She'd had seven years of practice. She was completely oblivious to the fact that the hue of her dress matched perfectly the colour of William's eyes.
Forty-five minutes later, a perfectly coiffed Buffy, slipped the blue silk dress over her head and fastened the side zipper. It had a simple bodice with tiny shoulder straps and reached just below her knees. Her hair was down and fashioned in soft waves. Nude stockings, a matching clutch purse and shoes, an elegant silver necklace with accompanying dangling earrings completed the look. Just as she turned to check her reflection the doorbell rang.
She had known it.
Angel was always early.
Chapter 3
Buffy stumbled ungracefully through her front door. The grocery bags, so helpfully packed by a pimply-faced teen at the market, were overfull and it was a guarantee that the most delicate items where invariably now a mass of unidentifiable lumps in the bottom of the brown paper bags.
'Why do I always say paper when they ask?" she lamented for the thousandth time.
As she passed through the living room she threw her newly laundered dress over the back of the armchair nearest the door. Staggering into the kitchen with her load, she was pleasantly surprised to find it clean and tidy, and as promised the note from Dawn was tacked to the fridge door. She put the bags on the central counter and reached for the note.
Hey Buffy,
I'm so sorry for forgetting your dress and the groceries.
I ordered pizza and left yours in the fridge. I know there'll be
food at the party, but if I know you won't have eaten at all today.
I'll call tomorrow morning to let you know when I'll be home.
I had a quick cleanup. Here's Susanne's phone number. 555-2768
Love you. Enjoy.
Dawnie.
*Wow a little guilt and we get instant housekeeping. Maybe she should forget stuff more often*
Buffy reconsidered. It was nice Dawn had tidied and got some dinner but it didn't really make up for the inconvenience of having had to go to the drycleaners and then the grocery store. She had needed the time for study. She was doing well, only another ten months and with luck her degree would be finished, and her life could be her own again. But any more set backs and it would be another year and ten months before she could sit her final exams.
She replaced the note on the refrigerator. Leaving the kitchen, she grabbed the dress from the chair and wandered down the hallway to her room. The house was basic but Xander's experience and hard work had made it open and homey. It had three bedrooms, the spare one of which Buffy used as her study, two bathrooms a kitchen with an accompanying laundry room, and a spacious living area. The backyard consisted of a small deck and an even smaller green patch.
She hung the dress from her bedroom door and started a bath in the en suite bathroom. Liberally adding relaxing bath salts to the running water, she returned to the kitchen to pack away the shopping as her bath filled. She really should have a shower it'd be quicker. But the restorative effects of a bath were sorely needed. She noticed her answer -phone was flashing and pressed Playback.
Bleep
"Hey Buffy," Willow's voice rang out. "We're all coming over to your place tomorrow. No excuses. We know you've got the Ball tonight so we won't turn up too early. We'll let ourselves in. Xander's itching to prove his manliness with a demonstration of burning animal flesh over an open flame."
In the background the sounds of Xander making caveman noises could be heard, along with Anya's pleased squeals and a statement that they would have to try the 'caveman drags woman back to cave scenario' complete with the leopard skin loincloth tonight.
Buffy shuddered at the image. TMI. But she couldn't stop the little thought that rose in the back of her head. * They already have the loincloth? *
". So make sure the barbecue's available. We'll bring everything else. "
Then Willow's voice lowered to a whisper, "I've got something important to talk to you about. Toodles for now."
Buffy glared at the innocent machine. The first time Willow had used the phrase 'I've got something important to talk to you about' she had come out of the closet. The last time was to tell Buffy that Parker had been cheating on her. That phrase was never followed without life changing information.
Bleep.
"Buffy hi. It's Angel." Buffy raised her eyebrows, she'd known Angel for four years now and every time he used the telephone he'd explain it was him. Didn't he think she had any vocal recognition abilities at all?
"There's been a small change in plans. I'll be there at seven. See you then."
A quick glance at the living room clock told her that she had only an hour to make herself presentable for the social and charitable occasion of the year.
Whoever said charity begins at home was sorely mistaken she mused as she grabbed the cold pizza Dawn had left, and retreated to the bathroom. In all, the charity events she was required to attend as the escort of Angel Connor, only left her with a sense of emptiness. Sure, the rich people turned out and they gave their money, but so much of it was done only to be seen.
Smiling rich men and women gave up cheques with the amount blatantly obvious, to causes they deemed worthy, in front of the city's media to promote themselves or make themselves feel good. Usually In the knowledge that they'd be paying twice that amount next week buying Randy junior the latest Beemer to replace the one he'd wrapped around the nearest lamppost after the last frat party.
Much of the money did get to those that needed it but only after the organisers took their skim off of the top. There were so many charities that needed the money. At least with Angel she got to promote a few that were dear to her heart.
After she finished her second slice of pizza she began to undress. She removed the sharp little business suit Hank insisted she wore to the office, and her undergarments. As she turned to shut off the taps she caught a glimpse of her nude reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She stood and for the first time in a long while took a good look at herself.
There she was - Elizabeth Anne Summers.
But Buffy had one small question. Who was she really? When she looked in the mirror she saw a petite blonde woman free of the baby fat that she had finally shifted during her time at college after joining a Tae Kwon- do class.
But that was what she was, not who. Seven years ago she could have said who she was. An Art lover, a romantic, an idealist. An innocent. Now? Now she didn't have the faintest idea. Too much had changed.
The humidity from the bath reached the mirror and, just briefly through the haze it created on the cold glass, she saw herself as she had been back then. A plain, overweight nineteen-year-old with glasses playing at being an adult.
How did she ever really believe that HE had seen beyond the outward appearances? She'd seriously thought he had seen into her soul. She'd been naive and oh so very easy. He must have laughed himself sick reading her note that next morning, knowing she had given him her virginity. He probably thought he had done her a favour; certainly no one else had wanted it.
As she stared at her reflection unbidden memories began to form.
"Do you like it?" asked a nervous Buffy as she approached the young man with disorderly honey blonde curls that had been gazing at the sculpture hidden away against one side of the gallery wall.
The man continued to peer at the abstract figure through his wire-rimmed glasses. "Excuse me?" he answered with an English accent, without turning.
"Do you like it? This sculpture, do you like it? It's just you've been looking at it for the past ten minutes so I wondered if you liked it. Because I figured if you didn't like it then you probably wouldn't keep looking at it, and I'm rambling so I'll just go away now. Bye."
Just as she turned to leave him to his intense scrutiny he spoke. "It has.passion."
"It has?" she turned back to take another look at it.
"Don't you think so?"
"Well yes I do. But my thoughts aren't really relevant."
"They're not? And why would that be?"
"Well when you sculpt something you know what the piece is trying to tell you, but you never really know if you manage to capture that meaning or not. You're too close to it.."
"You created this." he paused as if searching for the perfect word.
"This what?" she asked warily, desperate to know what he thought.
"This wonderful, majestic form."
"Majestic? Really? Wow." Actually Buffy wasn't completely sure if the final wow in her sentence had been because of her reaction to his words of praise, or to the fact she'd just got her first good look at his face, more specifically the very blue eyes now looking at her.
"May I ask your name? I'll keep an eye out for any future works you create. I am sure there will be many."
"Beth Summers."
"And I am William Calendar."
Buffy mentally kicked herself *No. No more*. She climbed into the bath and placed all thoughts other than dress, shoes, hair and makeup out of her mind. She was good at denial. She'd had seven years of practice. She was completely oblivious to the fact that the hue of her dress matched perfectly the colour of William's eyes.
Forty-five minutes later, a perfectly coiffed Buffy, slipped the blue silk dress over her head and fastened the side zipper. It had a simple bodice with tiny shoulder straps and reached just below her knees. Her hair was down and fashioned in soft waves. Nude stockings, a matching clutch purse and shoes, an elegant silver necklace with accompanying dangling earrings completed the look. Just as she turned to check her reflection the doorbell rang.
She had known it.
Angel was always early.