Part Seven

Whistling a tune, Faith wandered into town with a pocket full of change and a plan. She would treat her girl to the best. Anything Buffy wanted from now on, she'd give...somehow.

"Top of the morning," Faith greeted the owner cheerfully as she entered the flower shop.

"What can I do for you Faithy?"

Stopping at the counter she plunked down a handful of coins, courtesy of big brother Angel. "Somethin' swell."

……..

"Buffy!" Harry gestured frantically at the couple in the eatery, even tapping the pane until he had their attention.

Mortified, the adolescent glanced down at her runny eggs. What had begun as the best day of her life was quickly taking a turn for the worse.

Hank noted his daughter's dismay.

"Would you like me to send him away?"

"No, daddy. Harry means well."

"Yes he does, sweetheart." Hank barely finished the sentiment before the boy descended upon them.

Bending to hug Buffy, Harry flipped around a chair and took a seat. "So what was all the fuss?" He nodded politely at Mr. Summers.

"Harry." The older man acknowledged, with some sympathy.

"Why all the long faces?"

Here was her chance. A chance to be straight with a boy who had done nothing but worship her. Only when Buffy glanced around at the onlookers and then her father, her confession perished. The teenager had yet to learn the adage about good intentions.

"It's nothing. Mother just wants me to spend more time doing housework."

"Really?" Harry tilted his head, studying his beloved with some doubt. "By the way she was acting, it seemed serious."

Hank cleared his throat and stood up. "Dear, I'm going to pay our tab. I'll see you at the lab."

Once Mr. Summers was out of range, Harry continued. "Your mom almost gave the impression that there was another fella." He hesitated. "Buffy, tell me there isn't."

Closing her eyes briefly, the blond answered honestly, "There isn't."

"Hallelujah!" Harry exclaimed, lifting her to her feet. "You know, for a second my heart stopped just now. I don't know what I'd have done if you'd said there was another."

"Killed him!" A patron blurted snickering and spurring on the crowd of intrigued viewers.

"Yeah, Har. She's your girl. Show the bum your fist."

A clamor among the group had started, ending with clapping and a chant. "Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her."

…….

Faith kicked at a can, strolling lazily toward home. She was carrying a bouquet of fresh cut flowers, selected especially for Buffy. Wouldn't her princess be thrilled, she thought as she sniffed the arrangement. Clem definitely had outdone himself.

"Kiss her!"

"Harry, kiss her!"

"Kiss your girl!"

The excited ruckus had filtered from the establishment, drawing the average passerby to gawk.

Inquisitive like the rest, Faith squeezed her way through the throng and pressed up against the window.

Shrugging at their audience, Harry scooped the green-eyed beauty into his arms. "Let's give 'em a show then," he whispered.

Using a technique he'd seen only in movies, the young man gracefully guided Buffy back before swooping down to kiss her.

Hoots and cheers filled the air, indicating an overwhelming approval.

Faith stared, completely stunned by the pain of betrayal.

"Hey Faith!...Faithy." Xander yanked her sleeve. "Heck, I've been hollering for ya." Agitated by her blank expression, he motioned toward the other children. "We need another for stickball."

"Huh?" The raven-haired youngster glanced from the scene inside to the kids waiting. "Fine. I could go for whacking something with a stick."

Xander peeked in before following. "What's that about?"

Faith ignored him, focusing all her strength on maintaining some composure.

 "And who are those for?" He pointed to the flowers.

"No one." Faith sniped, tossing the bouquet into the gutter. "Now stop squawking, willya!"

To Be Continued