Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Buffy...or any related characters...Why?
Because Joss is too selfish to share, watch, when I create my own hit show,
I won't share with him either. Man, I don't really own the plot either
because it's largely based off of the drama, Stairway to Heaven.
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Chapter 30
If love was meant to be between two people,
Then they will always find each other,
No matter how long it takes,
No matter how far,
No matter how many obstacles stand in the way,
In the end, they will always end up in each other's arms.
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Buffy made sure that she was on time the next day. She kept her cell phone off, and stayed at her cubicle, and at lunch she rushed out. Life was not going her way. She came in after lunch with a latte in her hand. She paused to converse with Wesley a bit before going to her cubicle.
Her next deadline was more than several months away, and lately the only inspiration she had been getting was on how to get revenge. Then again, even if she were 'inspired' she didn't feel like drawing. Today had been so boring that she felt like screaming, just for the hell of it.
She lamely poked the blank paper in front of her. She wanted to yell "boring," but she didn't. Instead, she laid back in her chair an d let her head hang over the back. Life today was so not fun. Then again, you'd have to be insane to say life was going well when the man you loved who also claimed to have remained loyal to you even when you were supposedly 'dead,' betrayed you by deciding to marry someone else.
Especially when that someone happened to be your stepsister...your evil stepsister, that and she had stolen him from you once before...long ago. She refused to let 'them' affect her, but of course, she wasn't as strong and willed as she liked to believe she was.
She loved her life.
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Darla sat in the special 'VIP' section of the lounge at one of the trendiest cafes in Charleston. Her blonde hair was done all elaborately and piled high on top of her head. A single Chanel earring hung from one ear, and her favorite diamond and gold Rolex glittered on her wrist. She stood up as a large group of people came in. The people scrambled for the chairs closest to Darla, and a few even had cameras. "Thank you all for coming today," she said with a saccharine smile, "It is so nice." Darla brushed back a single loose and curled strand of her hair as she sat back down.
The reporters replied in either a mutter or a smile. "As you know," she began, "My lovely daughter, Glory, is engaged to William Cornelius of Global Fashions-"
Before she could say another word, a reporter's hand shot up in the air, and before she gave him permission to speak he shot out his question. "How did they meet?"
Darla smiled even more coyly. "It's all fairy-tale like. You see, they were actually best friends in middle school...they met when Glory dropped her books, and William was the one who stopped and helped her. They became best friends right after that. They were inseparable, and were both heart broken when William was sent overseas. Luckily they stayed in touch by letters, a few emails, and odd hour phone calls. And when he came back, they decided to get married."
Reporters nodded again as they scratched away on their pads of paper. Another hand shot up in the air, "Mr. Cornelius actually once told the media that only his closest friends call him Spike. Is there any reason for this nickname?" A few chuckles filled the air.
Darla smiled beauteously again. "That silly nick name? William dropped it a long time ago. As a matter of fact, he just prefers William, and I suppose that that nickname comes from his hair."
"Suppose?" another reporter asked.
"Just write!" Darla snapped angrily. "I mean...yes," she hastily added in a syrupy tone. A few of the reporters raised an eyebrow, but no one said anything. They all knew that Darla was an extremely powerful woman, and no one felt like defying her...or else they'd suffer the consequences.
"When will the wedding be held?' someone called out.
"Sometime this month." Darla replied. She smiled inwardly, there would be now ay for William to take back his word after these articles came out. She didn't need to worry about the reporters revealing their sources; she was pretty sure that none of them enjoyed getting cornered in alleys on dark moonless nights...
"What about his co-worker Elizabeth Johnson?" a voice piped up.
Darla's eyes narrowed as she tried to pick out the person who said that, but no one met her glare. She scoffed. The day before 'Elizabeth' had approached her as 'Buffy', everyone who mattered had gone to a bar to party a bit. Glory had left for a bit, and the paparazzi ended up snapping shots of Buffy and Spike dancing together...that and the newspapers had had articles of 'Elizabeth' becoming the next Donatella Versace. It hadn't been a combination that made her happy.
That reminded her...she better call her 'men' right after this press conference...she had to take care of some business, and make sure that Angel would never do anything 'brash.' The moment she saw that picture in the art gallery, she knew that no one but Angel would've been able to do it. Sure, she acted ignorant of her son's talent, but she had been watching him...scheming on how to 'break' him so that she could use him. "They were merely dancing." Darla said venomously.
No one asked anything more about Elizabeth Johnson. It was clear that Darla did not wish to talk about it. The press conference was soon over, and Darla stayed, sipping on some specially imported Peruvian coffee, celebrating. She then pulled out her cell phone, and called her 'friend.' "Dru," she cooed into the phone, "I have a job for you...Angel...no, just a...lesson...a taste of what is to come if he steps out of line...you'll receive the usual amount...I'll drop it off at your hang out...Have a nice day." She tossed her cell phone into her Gucci purse and began to laugh maniacally.
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Buffy's day only got better when Glory came over to her desk...with Spike in tow. "Buffy!" Glory cooed, "Do you need a ride home? Because Spike will be glad to drop you off..."
"I'll be taking a taxi." Buffy replied curtly, willing herself to not look up.
"But it's so expensive! Just come with us!" Glory begged.
Buffy wanted to roll her eyes. Did Glory really think she was that stupid? She knew what Glory was up to. Rub it in her face... "Actually, now that you mention it, I think that I'll just take the bus. I'm an avid supporter of public transportation."
Twenty minutes later Buffy found herself in the back seat of Spike's blue Jaguar. She sat in the very corner of the car as if trying to disappear. That, and she stared out the window, avoiding Spike's glances. 'The nerve...' she thought with distaste.
Instead of ending up at her 'home', she ended up at one of the most expensive bridal shops on the east coast. "I'm sorry! I forgot to tell you that we were going to go shopping for my engagement dress!" Glory apologized.
Buffy wanted to bang her head against the hood of Spike's car. Crossing her arms over her chest, and her eyebrows knit in a definitely unhappy furrow she followed Glory and Spike in- she refused to go in when Spike held the door for her. She didn't want anything from the stupid Billy Idol wannabe.
"That's why I love this store!" Glory chattered on, "Has all of my favorite designers! Versace, Valentio, Celine, Dolce and Gabbana, Vera Wang, Donatella, Gucci-"
"Well at least we'd know who'd win in Fashion Jeopardy." Buffy muttered.
Spike suppressed a chuckle, but Glory raised her eyebrows, "Did you say something Buffy...sister?"
Buffy clenched her fists. 'Don't let her get to you...don't let the devil's spawn get to you...' she told herself mentally. She watched as Glory tried on dress after dress. "How's this one?" Glory asked Spike as she stepped out of the dressing room.
"It's nice." Spike said for probably the hundredth time already.
Glory giggled. "It's so hard to pick a dress when you keep saying that they're all nice!" Nevertheless, she continued to pick out more and more dresses. There was one particular dress that Glory was having trouble in. That was when Spike stood up. Buffy watched him out of the corner of her eyes, but she quickly returned to her magazine when Spike came walking towards her.
"Try this on." He said as he tossed a dress towards her. Spike was greeted with a mouthful of whatever material the dress was made of. He threw it back at her. "Try it on." He repeated with a little more force.
Buffy threw it back at him. What the hell was his problem? The next thing she knew she was being shoved into one of the dressing rooms. Buffy inspected the dress, it was a pink lacy glitter Vera Wang dress with a ribbon tie-up back and a high-low hemline. It had a scoop neck, and the material was of a high-low translucent overlay in glitter lace with lightweight tulle cascades in delicate folds over a short under slip which would show a little bit of her legs. But because of her petite frame, it would be just a little bit of her shins.
She sighed, and tossed it on. She looked in the mirror. She didn't look half bad, the dress fit okay, and the material was just gorgeous...but she would prefer a different dress. ((A/N: To see the actual dress, go here: h t t p : s t o r e 4 . y i m g . c o m / I / m e t r o f a s h i o n – f o r m a l 1 7 9 4 4 6 0 0 5 0...minus the spaces)) Buffy wrinkled her nose, and with her eyebrows still furrowed, and a frown on her face, she stepped out.
Spike had been watching Glory twirl around in another dress when Buffy stepped out. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Gawds she was beautiful...he wanted to make her wear a wedding dress...to see what an angel would look like...his angel. Glory saw Spike stare, and glanced over her shoulder. She glared, and haughtily went back inside the dressing room to try on yet another dress.
"You look absolutely perfect pet." Spike breathed, still having difficulty swallowing.
"I hate it." Buffy retorted.
"You're just saying that," Spike said.
"I hate pink."
"That's why you have two scarves that color?" Spike countered.
"It doesn't fit."
"It looks alright to me."
"I hate it."
Spike turned to a saleslady. "Could you please ring up the dress for me luv?" The lady nodded, and ushered Buffy inside. The lady came back out with the dress in hand, and rang it up for him. Buffy didn't look too happy, and grabbing her newspaper went to sit in a cushy arm chair in a lounge in the hallway.
Glory came out in the dress that she would eventually buy. It was a slinky Christian Dior golden wheat colored dress with a corset ribbon lace up front, thigh slits, and a mini-handkerchief hemline. It had a low cut front and a full back. ((A/N: h t t p : s t o r e 4 . y i m g . c o m / I / m e t r o f a s h i o n – f o r m a l 1 7 9 3 2 3 9 0 6 8 9 minus the spaces.))
"How about these shoes?" Spike suggested as he dangled a pair of ugly tan colored sandals in front of her face.
Glory wrinkled her nose. "It's nice, but it wouldn't match the dress."
Spike groaned, and flopped back down in the chair, but then he caught sight of a gorgeous pair of light pink strappy high heels. He grabbed them, and walked out into the hallway where there was another lounge. He found Buffy rifling through a magazine. He tossed the shoes into spot next to her.
Buffy looked up. "What are these for?" she asked in a disheartened voice.
"Try them on." Spike said.
"I don't like the color.'
"They match the dress."
"I don't like the dress."
"Try them on."
"They're not my size."
"Try them on."
"I don't want to!"
"BLOODY HELL WOMAN! TRY THEM ON!"
Soon Spike was on his knees, basically ramming the shoes onto Buffy's feet, and Buffy was flailing her feet wildly in protest. Spike finally got one shoe on, and Buffy resorted to hair tugging to prevent him from putting on the other shoe. Spike howled in pain, and stumbled backwards onto his rear.
Glory quirked an eyebrow. Where was Spike? She looked all around the store, and didn't find him, finally she asked one of the salesladies where he was. 'In the lounge?' She then began to head towards the hallway lounge, and heard noises. Then she remembered that Buffy was there too. Suspicious, she hurriedly walked out there with a pair of shoes in each hand. "William?" she called.
Spike looked up from his newspaper. "Yes pet?" he replied. Glory shot them a strange look, "Is everything alright?" she asked.
Buffy looked up from her magazine. "Why wouldn't they be alright?" she asked.
Glory's eyebrows furrowed, "Well I heard noises..."
Spike glanced at Buffy confused. "Noises? Are you sure it was us?"
Buffy shrugged, "I don't know what you guys are talking about."
Glory nodded slowly. "Well Spike...what pair of shoes do you like better? These or these?" Glory held out a pair of golden heels, and a pair of pearl colored heels.
"They're both lovely." Spike commented.
Glory pouted. "William! I can't choose!"
Spike rubbed his chin, "Why don't you just buy them all?"
A smile lit Glory's face, "That's such a great idea! And then when I get home I can choose! You're the best William!"
Buffy gagged as soon as Glory disappeared, but then Glory stepped back out into the hall way lounge. "Oh and William?" Buffy quickly turned a page of her magazine, and Spike, keeping his chin covered with a hand raised his eyebrows as he acknowledged Glory's question. "You're hair's all messed up. Have Buffy fix it or something." With a bounce of her curls she went back inside.
Buffy glared at Spike. "You come any closer, and I WILL fix your hair."
"Look at what you did to my chin!" Spike exclaimed, pointing at his a bruise beginning to appear.
"I told you to leave me alone." Buffy retorted.
"I was just trying to put your shoes on for you." Spike protested.
"I told you that I didn't want them."
"Does it look like I soddin' care?" 45 minutes later, Buffy, Spike, and Glory were finally leaving the bridal shop. Glory with her six pairs of different shoes and her engagement dress while Buffy grudgingly carried a bag with a dress she didn't like, and shoes that did not fit her. Of course she didn't tell Spike that...all the more reason why she wouldn't be wearing them.
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"No, really...I need to get home." Buffy protested.
"Just come and have dinner with us!" Glory pleaded. Twenty minutes later, Buffy found herself sitting at the fancy bar of the Cabaret. This was not the sort of bar that smelled like smoke with drunken men bumbling around, and prostitutes taking men to the bathroom. This was one of the trendy and fancy sort of bars where everything was of beautiful smoky gray marble with a piano playing softly in the background.
How did she keep losing all of these arguments? Probably because of those looks...those smug looks that Glory kept giving her ticked her off. She wanted to show Glory that she couldn't care less. She didn't give a damn that she was marrying Spike.
They were all sipping on cocktails. Glory sat in between her and Spike. For a moment Buffy even thought of Glory with 'fondness,' but of course that thought quickly diminished from her mind. Buffy held the cocktail with one hand, and let one hand dangle by her side; she was taking a sip of her drink when she felt someone...or something touch her hand.
She almost sprayed the mouthful of her drink all over the counter as she felt the 'someone' take a hold of her hand. She glanced down at her hand, and saw a familiar pale skinned hand grasping onto hers tightly.
She then glanced sideways, and saw Spike lift his glass slightly up as if saying a silent 'cheers.' She glared at him, and tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tightly. And so a game of tug-of-war ensued. Buffy almost freed her hand of his grip once, but he had some awesomely quick reflexes, and her hand was held captive again.
Buffy decided to give it one more try, and she yanked her hand free of his, but at that same moment, Glory was being handed another drink, and since Spike's arm had gone around the back of Glory's chair, Glory was jostled when Buffy freed her hand, and her drink spilled all over her outfit.
"What the hell?!" Glory shot Buffy daggers. "Now my outfit is ruined!" Grumbling angrily, Glory stomped off toward the lady's room.
"Good job." Buffy commented as she lazily ran her index finger around the circumference of her glass.
"Pardon me?" Spike asked cupping a hand around his ear.
"What the hell's wrong with you today?" Buffy suddenly asked her hand gripping the stem of her glass tighter.
"What are you talking about?" Spike replied.
"You know what I'm talking about!" Buffy exclaimed, almost yelling. She felt like waving her hands around, and ask him how dense he was.
"Listen Buff. I waited six or so bloody years for you. Isn't that enough? It doesn't help when my head is telling me this is wrong, but I can't ignore my heart...or my hands..." he added with a wolfish grin that Buffy didn't find amusing.
"We're not teenagers anymore."
"Well I haven't changed one bit-"
"You know what Spike?" Buffy interrupted as she finally turned around to look him eye-to-eye. "You're not making this any easier for me. You said that you were marrying Glory, so why are you doing this to me?!" Buffy was almost screaming now.
"You need to learn to listen better luv. I specifically said that I'd marry the one I love." Spike corrected.
"The dress? The shoes?" Buffy blabbed on, "Don't even expect me to show up at your little engagement ceremony."
"You still love me don't you?" Spike said, his voice full of hope and a tad bit of playfulness.
"No, I don't." Buffy managed to bite out.
"Don't lie Buffy Summers." Spike warned. "It may end up hurting the one you love most." With that Spike stood up, tossed the bar tender a hundred dollar bill, and walked out to the car.
When she was sure that he was gone, she began to cry.
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On the drive home Buffy resumed her usual staring out the window to avoid the intense gaze of two clear blue eyes that currently belonged to someone she hated immensely. "You know, now that I think of it, my dress doesn't seem to be engagement material. Do you think it's too fancy?" Glory chattered on. She seemed to be empowered by the fact that Buffy seemed to be low...very low, and she could only GUESS why.
"Or perhaps it's not fancy enough..." Glory added.
Spike looked up at the rearview mirror again. "It doesn't matter what you wear pet," he began, still staring up at the rearview mirror. "It doesn't matter if your wearing shoes...a nice dress...or jeans...all that matters is that you come." Glory blushed, not realizing that that hadn't been meant for her.
It was dark when they got to the house. "Thanks a lot for the great day." Glory cooed as she and Buffy got out of the car.
"No problem Glory...no problem at all..." Glory whose arms were full, and laden with about six bags on each arm handed a few to Buffy who did not protest. "Thanks for taking us shopping too." Glory and Spike said their good byes, and Buffy stood there, trying not to roll her eyes.
Before they went inside the gates, Spike called out to them. "Wait! I forgot to give you two something."
Glory immediately turned around, and went back to Spike, pleased at the prospect of another present. He handed a red box to her, and another one to Buffy, much to Glory's disdain. Without another word, Spike drove off.
"Open yours." Glory suggested.
"I'll just open it when I get inside." Buffy said rather disheartened.
"Open it."
"I'm fine." Buffy shot back.
"Then I'LL open for you." Glory snatched the top off of Buffy's box. To the surprise of both of them, Buffy's was empty. Glory then quickly opened hers, only to find a gorgeous set of creamy pearl earrings framed by gold, and a matching pearl necklace on a pendant with diamonds. It matched her dress. "Oh." Glory said smugly.
She took her shopping bags from Buffy, and walked on by with her nose up in the air. A feeling of superiority exuding from her, Darla greeted the two as they came inside the house. "Oh my! What's all this?! Did William buy it all for you?" Darla asked Glory.
Glory smiled coyly, then Darla's tone changed into that of a darker what. "Wait...you went shopping with them two?" Darla hissed at Buffy as she went up the stairs. Buffy ignored her, and went up to her room.
Darla faced Glory. "What is the meaning of this?"
Glory smirked again. "I asked her to come along so that she could see that my engagement to William is for real...and that it's not some childish fantasy anymore."
Darla hugged her daughter with a proud smile on her face. "That's my beautiful and smart daughter."
Buffy tossed the shopping bag into a random corner of her room, and set the empty box on the desk. She sat down on her bed, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Is this what you wanted for me Angel?" she whispered. "Is this what you wanted? You call this happiness you pig. And for your information...I'm not happy."
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Angel threw his paintbrush down in frustration. He just couldn't paint! Lack of concentration was more like it. He knew he had done the right thing, return Buffy to her love...her true love...he knew that Spike would treat her well. He had even recognized Buffy as Elizabeth Johnson, and his devotion to her was obvious...he didn't want to paint...didn't feel like it, but he had to. He would keep all of his promises to Buffy.
His father Giles was gone again. Up in New York for an antique book auction, but he should be back later tonight...or at least that was what he had said...Giles did have a tendency to anger people. Giles claimed that it was only right...to inform them was much better than to let them live their lives as "ignorant pricks." Giles didn't think that people should be entitled to opinions...hence his long lectures to random strangers...hence the fact that he often came later than planned...beat up.
Just then the door opened, and he heard scuffling and footsteps. "Giles?" he called even though he knew that there was more than one person there.
"Angel?" a woman's voice called, mocking the same tone that Angel had used to call Giles name.
Angel sat up, "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Aren't you going to ask who they are too?" the dark haired woman asked as six other men came out, and stationed themselves around Angel's studio. Angel eyed the woman as she approached him. She was beautiful, but deadly looking. She was dressed in a complete outfit of black leather with her long dark hair pulled up into a tight bun. "They all have feelings too," she purred, almost in a seductive tone, but it was laced with innocence...like a child asking 'why.'
"Why are you here?" Angel asked tersely.
"Touchy now...aren't you?" she asked as she circled him, her thick heeled boots clicking against the wooden floor.
Angel saw red. Not only was this woman pissing him off, but he didn't like the way the men were touching his various and numerous paintings...and he especially didn't like the fact that they were here. "How about you leave?" Angel snidely suggested.
The dark haired beauty ignored him, and walked toward one of his paintings. "This painting is missing something..." Angel quirked an eyebrow, he had had that same feeling too... "I can fix it." With that, she stuck her foot through the canvas. "Much better...don't you think?"
Her men laughed, and agreed. "What the hell was that for?" Angel demanded angrily. "Why are you here? I don't even know you!"
"Of course!" Dru exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "How rude of me! My name's Dru..."
"Get out."
Dru's lips puckered into a pout, "But we only just got here...and the fun has just started..." As if to demonstrate her true meaning, she stuck her foot through another painting. Angel lunged at her at, and clocked her in the jaw. Dru grasped her jaw bone with one hand and looked at him in surprise. He had hit her!
Angel looked at his hands, equally surprised. He had never hit anyone in his life before...he was always a 'lover, not a fighter.' Then again, wasn't that typical for an artist like him? Angel's eyes darted around the room, a circle had formed, and it had closed around him...crap...
Angel was able to land a punch on one guy's cheeks, knee another in the groin, and kick another in the chest...while Dru watched, her lips curled up into a smile. It was only a minute or two before Angel was pinned down onto the ground.
"You gave up a pretty good fight for a pretty boy," she commented as Angel wriggled in an attempt to free himself, but the guy was too strong. "Your first fight?" Angel glared at her. "Let him go." Dru commanded. The men obediently obeyed, and stepped back out of the room. "Okay big boy, it's just you and me."
Angel let out an angry yell and charged towards her, only to be thrown back the moment her foot connected with his stomach. He hit the floor and slid back a few feet, and stopped when his head his a few of his own paintings. They came crashing down and literally covered his head from view. But kind and thoughtful Dru came, and kicked them aside.
"Get up." She ordered.
Angel didn't stir. His body ached all over, and he was having difficulty breathing. He opened his eyes only to find himself staring into Dru's dark ones. He swung his fist at her, but she blocked it with a grab and flipped him over onto his stomache.
Blood poured from Angel's nose. It wasn't broken, but it had been enough to knock something lose he supposed. Face down on the wooden floor did not feel good. He groaned, and waited until Dru crouched down to peer at him. "Had enough?" she asked coyly.
Angel's fist flew out from underneath him, and hit her in the cheek. The impact set Dru down on her rear, and a bruise was now beginning to appear on her cheek. "I'll take that as a no," she growled. "Stand up." She commanded.
Angel couldn't...and wouldn't. Dru glared at him and motioned for two of her men to come over. "Help him stand." Angel groaned. Blood was smeared all over his face, and bruises littered his arms, legs and chest...he was pretty sure that he had a cracked rib bone or something because it hurt when he breathed.
He was about to make another snide remark, but couldn't when Dru began landing kicks on him like crazy, and he had no choice but to stand there because two of her goons were holding him still. Then she began to pummel him. "Let him stand on his own." She finally said as she stepped back, and wiped the sweat on her brow.
Angel collapsed face down onto the ground again. "And now time to take care of the thing that gave me this," she purred maliciously. She placed her foot on Angel's right wrist, and began to apply pressure to it. Angel yelled out in pain, and there was a sickening crack.
Dru lifted her foot off when she was sure that his wrist bone was either cracked badly or broken. With a nod of her head her men began to trash some of his paintings. Angel laid there, not moving, but still conscious. His face was etched with pain.
Dru crouched down and whispered in Angel's ear. "Have another imitation ready soon. I'll be back before the month is over."
"What are you talking about?" Angel managed to gasp out.
Dru's eyes narrowed, "Like the one in the gallery." Angel thought hard, he had never given one of his imitations to a gallery before. Not only was it illegal, but he had just done them as practice. He would never do anything so stupid. "I suppose Giles never told you?"
Angel's eyes widened, no...Giles...he didn't! Dru laughed, "I'll let you two work it out...remember...another one..."
"No." Angel managed to cough out. Dru whirled around, and walked back to him.
"You have another way to pay of your debts then?" Angel wanted to punch the ground, but he was unable to even move...how could Giles think getting loans from gangs was better than getting loans from banks?! Angel remained silent and Dru left.
As soon as he heard the car drive away, Angel heard someone come in. "Decided to spend the night?" Angel managed to grind out.
"Well last time I checked I lived here," came a familiar voice.
Angel's eyes looked up to see Giles who was rummaging through a plastic white grocery bag. "I got some food for us...who were those people anyways? They didn't seem like the friendly sort...why are you on the floor, and what happened to all of your paintings?"
"It was those friendly people." Angel grumbled, wincing as he tried to move his right hand.
Giles had dropped the grocery bag. "Look at you!" he exclaimed as he attempted to dress Angel's wounds. "You're a spectacle. What did they want?"
"Money...another imitation...you wouldn't happen to know about one of them being in a gallery now...would you?"
Giles placed the blood stained white cloth back into the bowl of warm water. He sighed, and brushed his hands dry on his pants before taking of his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt. Angel tried not to laugh, not because he didn't want Giles to hear, but because when he talked or laughed his chest hurt...Giles had confirmed that he had a very badly bruised rib.
"Well you see, the bank would not give me a loan because of my credit history," Giles explained, "And I happened to meet some loan sharks of some sort one day, and they made a very tempting offer-"
"And you accepted?" Angel asked incredulously even though he knew that his father had. His father had yet to learn the 'American' ways...he was still one of those hopeless broke British tourists who believed that all Americans were good.
"Well in a way yes...but technically no..." Giles stopped cleaning his glasses when Angel gave him the bored look. "Fine...yes..." he muttered as he put them back on. "But it was an honest mistake I tell you."
"I'd hope so..." Angel was cut short as Giles accidentally jostled Angel's right wrist a bit too hard. "ARGH!"
"My apologies!" Giles said hastily. "Perhaps we should go to the hospital, and get your hand looked at."
"No." Not only did he hate hospitals...with their sterile sheets and walls, and the smell...he grimaced at the thought...the smell. But the bigger reason was that they did not have the money. They were in debt as it were.
Giles sighed. "I'll be in my room if you need me." He said as he got up and shuffled down the small hallway to his bedroom. Angel didn't say anything, and just laid there on his bed. He lightly prodded his limp right hand with his left. He winced slightly; it hurt.
"They just had to break this wrist," Angel muttered in a clipped tone. "Guess that means that I can't paint their stupid picture now." It was true though. He couldn't paint an imitation while his hand was in this sort of condition; he could definitely paint his own sort of paintings with his left, but an imitation? As good and talented as he was, he wouldn't be able to.
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Buffy dragged herself to the office the next day. The only thing that fueled her showing up at work the next day was that snide wake up call Glory had given her this morning. "Buffy! You better wake up or else you'll be late...or maybe you don't want to go to work because you're still sore over the fact that-" Buffy had slammed the door in Glory's face to get ready before the devil's spawn could finish her sentence.
Her morning had been uneventful, and now she was on her way out, even though it was only about 1 in the afternoon. Today she wore a long sleeved white shirt, dark blue jeans, and black heeled boots. Not extremely fashionable, but then again, she really didn't care about the way she looked...at least not at the moment.
Then her cell phone rang. She pulled it out, and flipped open the cover. "Hello."
"Li- Buffy?" came a familiar voice.
Buffy smiled as she neared a corner. "Hey Willow." She said with a grin, then she almost walked into Spike who came around from the other side of the corner. He was on his cell phone as well, but he pocketed it away as he and Buffy stood there, staring at each other. "Uh Willow?...I gotta go...I'll call you later, ok?"
"Well hello...William."
Spike's eyes lit up in amusement while Buffy's eyes glowered at him, not amused. "Ello luv...did you like my present?"
"Do you enjoy mocking me?" Buffy asked icily.
Spike's eyebrows furrowed, and the playfulness in his eyes were gone. "To be honest Buff...I didn't know what to get you...I wanted to get you so many things. But I promise to fill up that empty box-"
"You can keep your stupid things because I don't want them, and if you keep this up I swear- I won't come to your engagement." Buffy warned, her tone hard. With that she turned around, and went back to her cubicle, the one place where she knew he wouldn't follow her into. Buffy wanted to scream at him. Did he know what he was doing her?
Grumbling, Buffy returned to her desk. "Why are you back so early?" Anya asked as she came over to Buffy's cubicle.
"I thought I had an idea." Buffy tried.
Anya smiled as she patted Buffy on the back, "Good for you! More ideas means more money for you and the business, and that means a better economy!" Buffy couldn't help but giggle as Anya walked away. What would she do without her friends?
Just then her desktop computer screen came on with a picture of an envelope on it. The envelope flashed 'You've got mail.' Buffy raised an eyebrow, and clicked on it. Turned out that it was a video email...it was Spike. "I'll be waiting down at the parking lot luv...be down in five minutes."
Buffy rolled her eyes, and deleted it. Five minutes later her cell phone rang. "Hello?" she answered without looking at the caller ID.
"Where are you?" Buffy let out a noise of frustration, "If you're not coming to me," Spike continued, "Then I'll just have to come to you." Then Spike hung up.
Buffy's eyes widened. Crap...he was going to come in here? The one spot that had been her sanctuary from HIM was no longer going to be so. She grabbed her purse, turned off her cubicle light, and ran out. "Leaving again?" Anya called as she rushed by.
"I lost my train of thought!" Buffy yelled as she ran out. She ran down the hall, and headed for the stairs, thinking that Spike would take the elevator. Her heels noisily clanked against the cement stairs, she was somewhere between the fifteenth and eleventh flight of stairs when she ran into him.
"I knew you would try to avoid me." Spike declared triumphantly as he tapped the side of his nose with his index finger as if to tell her that he was all knowing. Buffy let out a 'damn,' and began to go back up the stairs, but he caught her. "And where do you think you're going?"
"Away from you." Buffy struggled against him, but he dragged down the remaining flights of stairs, and all the way down to the underground parking lot. Spike basically shoved her into the passenger side of the car, but forgot that she could get out. As he went around the car to the driver's side, she opened her door and ran out.
"Buffy!" Spike yelled as he ran after her across the parking lot. Buffy escaped from the parking lot, and headed for the crowded amusement park. "Bloody hell woman." He added under his breath as he pulled out his cell phone and called Riley.
Twenty minutes later a kicking Buffy was literally carried back to Spike who was still waiting by his car. "What took you so long?" Spike asked Riley who winced as Buffy managed to land another blow on his chest.
"Hold her tighter!" he barked at the other men. Riley rubbed his sore spots before speaking, "Look at her! She's a wild beast Spike. It wasn't easy."
"You're such a pig Spike!" Buffy announced as Spike's body guards stuffed her into the car.
Riley looked at Spike again. "I told you..."
Spike sighed, and grinning he got inside the car, and drove off with Buffy. "You cheated," Buffy blurted out.
"Oh?" Spike asked. "And how so?"
"You had your men block all of the exits, entrances, AND you had them come look for me!" Buffy ranted. Spike chuckled, and reached for Buffy's hand, but she crossed her arms over her chest. Spike glanced sideways at her, "If you want me to come with you, you'll have to respect my space." she told him.
Spike suppressed a groan. How dense was she?! Spike parked by a Tiffany's Jewelers, and once again, had to drag Buffy in. "Try this on." Spike urged as he held out a silver ring diamond ring. It was a simple thin silver band with a medium sized diamond in the middle. Buffy refused, but Spike put it on her hand anyways. "Hmm...a bit big."
Spike put this one back, and tried another one, and another one. "What are you? Sadist or something?" Buffy demanded angrily. "You're making this so hard for me!"
Spike grabbed her by the shoulders, and turned her around so that she was facing him. "Do you love me?" he asked. Buffy turned her face, and didn't answer. Spike's hold on her tightened, and his voice became more desperate, and more urgent. "Answer me! Do you love me?!" Buffy still didn't answer him. The volume of his voice rose, "DO YOU LOVE ME?!" he shouted.
Buffy closed her eyes to prevent the tears from leaking out. Spike let go of her shoulders, and grabbed another ring. It was a three carat heart shaped diamond on a silver band. ((Take a look at the ring! H t t p : w w w . t i f f a n y . c o m / e x p e r t i s e / d i a m o n d / r i n g s / e n g a g e m e n t f a n c y r i n g . a s p ? r i n g = h e a r t &)) Simple looking, and it fit Buffy's finger perfectly. He tossed it into the hands of the jeweler, and told him to have it ready for his engagement day.
Spike faced her again, his eyebrows furrowed, and his blue eyes flashing. "On the engagement day, I am going to put this ring on the person I love." he said. His voice sounded cold, but was full of emotions. "I'll get the car started." Spike left the store, and Buffy began to cry. A few minutes later she wiped her tears, and began to leave the store.
But as fate would allow, she ran into her most favorite person: Glory. "What do you think you're doing?" Glory hissed. "Who do you think you are, going 'ring-shopping' with my fiancé?"
Buffy glared back. "I will and can do whatever I want." Buffy shot back.
"Excuse me?!" Glory demanded angrily. Then her angry scowl was replaced with a sly smile. "Why? Do you love him or something?"
Buffy stood there. Millions of thoughts rushing through her head, she bit her lip and answered. "As a matter of fact, I do."
Glory who hadn't been expecting this answer stood there as her lips twisted into a vicious snarl. A dark look crossed her face as she slapped Buffy. Buffy in return kicked Glory in the stomach. Then Glory attacked. She leaped towards Buffy, and began to violently tug at her hair.
Buffy let out an angry yelp, and shoved Glory off of her. Then Spike came in. All of the sudden Glory embraced Buffy, and began to smooth her hair down for her. Buffy's eyebrows furrowed as a confused look crossed her face. She pried herself from Glory's grip, and stumbled backwards into Spike who glanced at Glory, and then back at Buffy. "So...who's hungry?" .............................................................................................................
Spike took them to what was probably Glory's favorite restaurant, the Medici Terrace. Spike sat on one side, and Glory and Buffy sat on the other. Buffy who had lost her appetite a long time ago poked, and moved her veal around. Buffy felt someone touch her foot. She looked at Glory, and raised her eyebrows as if saying "what."
Glory looked at Buffy strangely, and continued eating her pasta. Buffy felt someone bouncing her feet up and down again. Buffy rolled her eyes, and moved her feet closer to her chair. Buffy felt the taps become more insistent, and harder, but continued ignoring them.
Spike wanted to growl. Damn that woman! She was completely ignoring him, and proceeded to move her veal around her plate, unfazed by his foot tappings. Spike brought his foot back, and hit hers harder than usual. This time she looked at him. Spike smirked, and did the same thing again, but even harder, unfortunately, this time, his foot bounced, and hit Glory's as well.
Glory looked up from pasta, and confused looked at Buffy, and then Spike. She made a face that basically said, 'Ok...' and resumed eating her pasta. Buffy pushed herself back from her table, and stood up. "I think that I'll leave first." With that she ran out the restaurant.
"I wonder what her problem is." Glory commented. Spike watched Buffy until she disappeared from sight, and shrugged, and silently continued eating HIS veal. Glory watched Spike. "William...you haven't really even thought about our engagement have you?"
Spike shrugged again. "Sure luv." he replied. Glory eyed him suspiciously as they continued to eat their meal in silence. .............................................................................................................
A/n: I apologize for the long time it took to update...it's really long so hopefully it makes up for it. My hard drive was wiped...my stories and everything was gone. So it's a little hard...I put this up as soon as I could, so I am hoping it all flows. So...what BTVS fic should I do next? Visit my profile page and vote in your review!
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Chapter 30
If love was meant to be between two people,
Then they will always find each other,
No matter how long it takes,
No matter how far,
No matter how many obstacles stand in the way,
In the end, they will always end up in each other's arms.
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Buffy made sure that she was on time the next day. She kept her cell phone off, and stayed at her cubicle, and at lunch she rushed out. Life was not going her way. She came in after lunch with a latte in her hand. She paused to converse with Wesley a bit before going to her cubicle.
Her next deadline was more than several months away, and lately the only inspiration she had been getting was on how to get revenge. Then again, even if she were 'inspired' she didn't feel like drawing. Today had been so boring that she felt like screaming, just for the hell of it.
She lamely poked the blank paper in front of her. She wanted to yell "boring," but she didn't. Instead, she laid back in her chair an d let her head hang over the back. Life today was so not fun. Then again, you'd have to be insane to say life was going well when the man you loved who also claimed to have remained loyal to you even when you were supposedly 'dead,' betrayed you by deciding to marry someone else.
Especially when that someone happened to be your stepsister...your evil stepsister, that and she had stolen him from you once before...long ago. She refused to let 'them' affect her, but of course, she wasn't as strong and willed as she liked to believe she was.
She loved her life.
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Darla sat in the special 'VIP' section of the lounge at one of the trendiest cafes in Charleston. Her blonde hair was done all elaborately and piled high on top of her head. A single Chanel earring hung from one ear, and her favorite diamond and gold Rolex glittered on her wrist. She stood up as a large group of people came in. The people scrambled for the chairs closest to Darla, and a few even had cameras. "Thank you all for coming today," she said with a saccharine smile, "It is so nice." Darla brushed back a single loose and curled strand of her hair as she sat back down.
The reporters replied in either a mutter or a smile. "As you know," she began, "My lovely daughter, Glory, is engaged to William Cornelius of Global Fashions-"
Before she could say another word, a reporter's hand shot up in the air, and before she gave him permission to speak he shot out his question. "How did they meet?"
Darla smiled even more coyly. "It's all fairy-tale like. You see, they were actually best friends in middle school...they met when Glory dropped her books, and William was the one who stopped and helped her. They became best friends right after that. They were inseparable, and were both heart broken when William was sent overseas. Luckily they stayed in touch by letters, a few emails, and odd hour phone calls. And when he came back, they decided to get married."
Reporters nodded again as they scratched away on their pads of paper. Another hand shot up in the air, "Mr. Cornelius actually once told the media that only his closest friends call him Spike. Is there any reason for this nickname?" A few chuckles filled the air.
Darla smiled beauteously again. "That silly nick name? William dropped it a long time ago. As a matter of fact, he just prefers William, and I suppose that that nickname comes from his hair."
"Suppose?" another reporter asked.
"Just write!" Darla snapped angrily. "I mean...yes," she hastily added in a syrupy tone. A few of the reporters raised an eyebrow, but no one said anything. They all knew that Darla was an extremely powerful woman, and no one felt like defying her...or else they'd suffer the consequences.
"When will the wedding be held?' someone called out.
"Sometime this month." Darla replied. She smiled inwardly, there would be now ay for William to take back his word after these articles came out. She didn't need to worry about the reporters revealing their sources; she was pretty sure that none of them enjoyed getting cornered in alleys on dark moonless nights...
"What about his co-worker Elizabeth Johnson?" a voice piped up.
Darla's eyes narrowed as she tried to pick out the person who said that, but no one met her glare. She scoffed. The day before 'Elizabeth' had approached her as 'Buffy', everyone who mattered had gone to a bar to party a bit. Glory had left for a bit, and the paparazzi ended up snapping shots of Buffy and Spike dancing together...that and the newspapers had had articles of 'Elizabeth' becoming the next Donatella Versace. It hadn't been a combination that made her happy.
That reminded her...she better call her 'men' right after this press conference...she had to take care of some business, and make sure that Angel would never do anything 'brash.' The moment she saw that picture in the art gallery, she knew that no one but Angel would've been able to do it. Sure, she acted ignorant of her son's talent, but she had been watching him...scheming on how to 'break' him so that she could use him. "They were merely dancing." Darla said venomously.
No one asked anything more about Elizabeth Johnson. It was clear that Darla did not wish to talk about it. The press conference was soon over, and Darla stayed, sipping on some specially imported Peruvian coffee, celebrating. She then pulled out her cell phone, and called her 'friend.' "Dru," she cooed into the phone, "I have a job for you...Angel...no, just a...lesson...a taste of what is to come if he steps out of line...you'll receive the usual amount...I'll drop it off at your hang out...Have a nice day." She tossed her cell phone into her Gucci purse and began to laugh maniacally.
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Buffy's day only got better when Glory came over to her desk...with Spike in tow. "Buffy!" Glory cooed, "Do you need a ride home? Because Spike will be glad to drop you off..."
"I'll be taking a taxi." Buffy replied curtly, willing herself to not look up.
"But it's so expensive! Just come with us!" Glory begged.
Buffy wanted to roll her eyes. Did Glory really think she was that stupid? She knew what Glory was up to. Rub it in her face... "Actually, now that you mention it, I think that I'll just take the bus. I'm an avid supporter of public transportation."
Twenty minutes later Buffy found herself in the back seat of Spike's blue Jaguar. She sat in the very corner of the car as if trying to disappear. That, and she stared out the window, avoiding Spike's glances. 'The nerve...' she thought with distaste.
Instead of ending up at her 'home', she ended up at one of the most expensive bridal shops on the east coast. "I'm sorry! I forgot to tell you that we were going to go shopping for my engagement dress!" Glory apologized.
Buffy wanted to bang her head against the hood of Spike's car. Crossing her arms over her chest, and her eyebrows knit in a definitely unhappy furrow she followed Glory and Spike in- she refused to go in when Spike held the door for her. She didn't want anything from the stupid Billy Idol wannabe.
"That's why I love this store!" Glory chattered on, "Has all of my favorite designers! Versace, Valentio, Celine, Dolce and Gabbana, Vera Wang, Donatella, Gucci-"
"Well at least we'd know who'd win in Fashion Jeopardy." Buffy muttered.
Spike suppressed a chuckle, but Glory raised her eyebrows, "Did you say something Buffy...sister?"
Buffy clenched her fists. 'Don't let her get to you...don't let the devil's spawn get to you...' she told herself mentally. She watched as Glory tried on dress after dress. "How's this one?" Glory asked Spike as she stepped out of the dressing room.
"It's nice." Spike said for probably the hundredth time already.
Glory giggled. "It's so hard to pick a dress when you keep saying that they're all nice!" Nevertheless, she continued to pick out more and more dresses. There was one particular dress that Glory was having trouble in. That was when Spike stood up. Buffy watched him out of the corner of her eyes, but she quickly returned to her magazine when Spike came walking towards her.
"Try this on." He said as he tossed a dress towards her. Spike was greeted with a mouthful of whatever material the dress was made of. He threw it back at her. "Try it on." He repeated with a little more force.
Buffy threw it back at him. What the hell was his problem? The next thing she knew she was being shoved into one of the dressing rooms. Buffy inspected the dress, it was a pink lacy glitter Vera Wang dress with a ribbon tie-up back and a high-low hemline. It had a scoop neck, and the material was of a high-low translucent overlay in glitter lace with lightweight tulle cascades in delicate folds over a short under slip which would show a little bit of her legs. But because of her petite frame, it would be just a little bit of her shins.
She sighed, and tossed it on. She looked in the mirror. She didn't look half bad, the dress fit okay, and the material was just gorgeous...but she would prefer a different dress. ((A/N: To see the actual dress, go here: h t t p : s t o r e 4 . y i m g . c o m / I / m e t r o f a s h i o n – f o r m a l 1 7 9 4 4 6 0 0 5 0...minus the spaces)) Buffy wrinkled her nose, and with her eyebrows still furrowed, and a frown on her face, she stepped out.
Spike had been watching Glory twirl around in another dress when Buffy stepped out. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Gawds she was beautiful...he wanted to make her wear a wedding dress...to see what an angel would look like...his angel. Glory saw Spike stare, and glanced over her shoulder. She glared, and haughtily went back inside the dressing room to try on yet another dress.
"You look absolutely perfect pet." Spike breathed, still having difficulty swallowing.
"I hate it." Buffy retorted.
"You're just saying that," Spike said.
"I hate pink."
"That's why you have two scarves that color?" Spike countered.
"It doesn't fit."
"It looks alright to me."
"I hate it."
Spike turned to a saleslady. "Could you please ring up the dress for me luv?" The lady nodded, and ushered Buffy inside. The lady came back out with the dress in hand, and rang it up for him. Buffy didn't look too happy, and grabbing her newspaper went to sit in a cushy arm chair in a lounge in the hallway.
Glory came out in the dress that she would eventually buy. It was a slinky Christian Dior golden wheat colored dress with a corset ribbon lace up front, thigh slits, and a mini-handkerchief hemline. It had a low cut front and a full back. ((A/N: h t t p : s t o r e 4 . y i m g . c o m / I / m e t r o f a s h i o n – f o r m a l 1 7 9 3 2 3 9 0 6 8 9 minus the spaces.))
"How about these shoes?" Spike suggested as he dangled a pair of ugly tan colored sandals in front of her face.
Glory wrinkled her nose. "It's nice, but it wouldn't match the dress."
Spike groaned, and flopped back down in the chair, but then he caught sight of a gorgeous pair of light pink strappy high heels. He grabbed them, and walked out into the hallway where there was another lounge. He found Buffy rifling through a magazine. He tossed the shoes into spot next to her.
Buffy looked up. "What are these for?" she asked in a disheartened voice.
"Try them on." Spike said.
"I don't like the color.'
"They match the dress."
"I don't like the dress."
"Try them on."
"They're not my size."
"Try them on."
"I don't want to!"
"BLOODY HELL WOMAN! TRY THEM ON!"
Soon Spike was on his knees, basically ramming the shoes onto Buffy's feet, and Buffy was flailing her feet wildly in protest. Spike finally got one shoe on, and Buffy resorted to hair tugging to prevent him from putting on the other shoe. Spike howled in pain, and stumbled backwards onto his rear.
Glory quirked an eyebrow. Where was Spike? She looked all around the store, and didn't find him, finally she asked one of the salesladies where he was. 'In the lounge?' She then began to head towards the hallway lounge, and heard noises. Then she remembered that Buffy was there too. Suspicious, she hurriedly walked out there with a pair of shoes in each hand. "William?" she called.
Spike looked up from his newspaper. "Yes pet?" he replied. Glory shot them a strange look, "Is everything alright?" she asked.
Buffy looked up from her magazine. "Why wouldn't they be alright?" she asked.
Glory's eyebrows furrowed, "Well I heard noises..."
Spike glanced at Buffy confused. "Noises? Are you sure it was us?"
Buffy shrugged, "I don't know what you guys are talking about."
Glory nodded slowly. "Well Spike...what pair of shoes do you like better? These or these?" Glory held out a pair of golden heels, and a pair of pearl colored heels.
"They're both lovely." Spike commented.
Glory pouted. "William! I can't choose!"
Spike rubbed his chin, "Why don't you just buy them all?"
A smile lit Glory's face, "That's such a great idea! And then when I get home I can choose! You're the best William!"
Buffy gagged as soon as Glory disappeared, but then Glory stepped back out into the hall way lounge. "Oh and William?" Buffy quickly turned a page of her magazine, and Spike, keeping his chin covered with a hand raised his eyebrows as he acknowledged Glory's question. "You're hair's all messed up. Have Buffy fix it or something." With a bounce of her curls she went back inside.
Buffy glared at Spike. "You come any closer, and I WILL fix your hair."
"Look at what you did to my chin!" Spike exclaimed, pointing at his a bruise beginning to appear.
"I told you to leave me alone." Buffy retorted.
"I was just trying to put your shoes on for you." Spike protested.
"I told you that I didn't want them."
"Does it look like I soddin' care?" 45 minutes later, Buffy, Spike, and Glory were finally leaving the bridal shop. Glory with her six pairs of different shoes and her engagement dress while Buffy grudgingly carried a bag with a dress she didn't like, and shoes that did not fit her. Of course she didn't tell Spike that...all the more reason why she wouldn't be wearing them.
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"No, really...I need to get home." Buffy protested.
"Just come and have dinner with us!" Glory pleaded. Twenty minutes later, Buffy found herself sitting at the fancy bar of the Cabaret. This was not the sort of bar that smelled like smoke with drunken men bumbling around, and prostitutes taking men to the bathroom. This was one of the trendy and fancy sort of bars where everything was of beautiful smoky gray marble with a piano playing softly in the background.
How did she keep losing all of these arguments? Probably because of those looks...those smug looks that Glory kept giving her ticked her off. She wanted to show Glory that she couldn't care less. She didn't give a damn that she was marrying Spike.
They were all sipping on cocktails. Glory sat in between her and Spike. For a moment Buffy even thought of Glory with 'fondness,' but of course that thought quickly diminished from her mind. Buffy held the cocktail with one hand, and let one hand dangle by her side; she was taking a sip of her drink when she felt someone...or something touch her hand.
She almost sprayed the mouthful of her drink all over the counter as she felt the 'someone' take a hold of her hand. She glanced down at her hand, and saw a familiar pale skinned hand grasping onto hers tightly.
She then glanced sideways, and saw Spike lift his glass slightly up as if saying a silent 'cheers.' She glared at him, and tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tightly. And so a game of tug-of-war ensued. Buffy almost freed her hand of his grip once, but he had some awesomely quick reflexes, and her hand was held captive again.
Buffy decided to give it one more try, and she yanked her hand free of his, but at that same moment, Glory was being handed another drink, and since Spike's arm had gone around the back of Glory's chair, Glory was jostled when Buffy freed her hand, and her drink spilled all over her outfit.
"What the hell?!" Glory shot Buffy daggers. "Now my outfit is ruined!" Grumbling angrily, Glory stomped off toward the lady's room.
"Good job." Buffy commented as she lazily ran her index finger around the circumference of her glass.
"Pardon me?" Spike asked cupping a hand around his ear.
"What the hell's wrong with you today?" Buffy suddenly asked her hand gripping the stem of her glass tighter.
"What are you talking about?" Spike replied.
"You know what I'm talking about!" Buffy exclaimed, almost yelling. She felt like waving her hands around, and ask him how dense he was.
"Listen Buff. I waited six or so bloody years for you. Isn't that enough? It doesn't help when my head is telling me this is wrong, but I can't ignore my heart...or my hands..." he added with a wolfish grin that Buffy didn't find amusing.
"We're not teenagers anymore."
"Well I haven't changed one bit-"
"You know what Spike?" Buffy interrupted as she finally turned around to look him eye-to-eye. "You're not making this any easier for me. You said that you were marrying Glory, so why are you doing this to me?!" Buffy was almost screaming now.
"You need to learn to listen better luv. I specifically said that I'd marry the one I love." Spike corrected.
"The dress? The shoes?" Buffy blabbed on, "Don't even expect me to show up at your little engagement ceremony."
"You still love me don't you?" Spike said, his voice full of hope and a tad bit of playfulness.
"No, I don't." Buffy managed to bite out.
"Don't lie Buffy Summers." Spike warned. "It may end up hurting the one you love most." With that Spike stood up, tossed the bar tender a hundred dollar bill, and walked out to the car.
When she was sure that he was gone, she began to cry.
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On the drive home Buffy resumed her usual staring out the window to avoid the intense gaze of two clear blue eyes that currently belonged to someone she hated immensely. "You know, now that I think of it, my dress doesn't seem to be engagement material. Do you think it's too fancy?" Glory chattered on. She seemed to be empowered by the fact that Buffy seemed to be low...very low, and she could only GUESS why.
"Or perhaps it's not fancy enough..." Glory added.
Spike looked up at the rearview mirror again. "It doesn't matter what you wear pet," he began, still staring up at the rearview mirror. "It doesn't matter if your wearing shoes...a nice dress...or jeans...all that matters is that you come." Glory blushed, not realizing that that hadn't been meant for her.
It was dark when they got to the house. "Thanks a lot for the great day." Glory cooed as she and Buffy got out of the car.
"No problem Glory...no problem at all..." Glory whose arms were full, and laden with about six bags on each arm handed a few to Buffy who did not protest. "Thanks for taking us shopping too." Glory and Spike said their good byes, and Buffy stood there, trying not to roll her eyes.
Before they went inside the gates, Spike called out to them. "Wait! I forgot to give you two something."
Glory immediately turned around, and went back to Spike, pleased at the prospect of another present. He handed a red box to her, and another one to Buffy, much to Glory's disdain. Without another word, Spike drove off.
"Open yours." Glory suggested.
"I'll just open it when I get inside." Buffy said rather disheartened.
"Open it."
"I'm fine." Buffy shot back.
"Then I'LL open for you." Glory snatched the top off of Buffy's box. To the surprise of both of them, Buffy's was empty. Glory then quickly opened hers, only to find a gorgeous set of creamy pearl earrings framed by gold, and a matching pearl necklace on a pendant with diamonds. It matched her dress. "Oh." Glory said smugly.
She took her shopping bags from Buffy, and walked on by with her nose up in the air. A feeling of superiority exuding from her, Darla greeted the two as they came inside the house. "Oh my! What's all this?! Did William buy it all for you?" Darla asked Glory.
Glory smiled coyly, then Darla's tone changed into that of a darker what. "Wait...you went shopping with them two?" Darla hissed at Buffy as she went up the stairs. Buffy ignored her, and went up to her room.
Darla faced Glory. "What is the meaning of this?"
Glory smirked again. "I asked her to come along so that she could see that my engagement to William is for real...and that it's not some childish fantasy anymore."
Darla hugged her daughter with a proud smile on her face. "That's my beautiful and smart daughter."
Buffy tossed the shopping bag into a random corner of her room, and set the empty box on the desk. She sat down on her bed, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Is this what you wanted for me Angel?" she whispered. "Is this what you wanted? You call this happiness you pig. And for your information...I'm not happy."
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Angel threw his paintbrush down in frustration. He just couldn't paint! Lack of concentration was more like it. He knew he had done the right thing, return Buffy to her love...her true love...he knew that Spike would treat her well. He had even recognized Buffy as Elizabeth Johnson, and his devotion to her was obvious...he didn't want to paint...didn't feel like it, but he had to. He would keep all of his promises to Buffy.
His father Giles was gone again. Up in New York for an antique book auction, but he should be back later tonight...or at least that was what he had said...Giles did have a tendency to anger people. Giles claimed that it was only right...to inform them was much better than to let them live their lives as "ignorant pricks." Giles didn't think that people should be entitled to opinions...hence his long lectures to random strangers...hence the fact that he often came later than planned...beat up.
Just then the door opened, and he heard scuffling and footsteps. "Giles?" he called even though he knew that there was more than one person there.
"Angel?" a woman's voice called, mocking the same tone that Angel had used to call Giles name.
Angel sat up, "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Aren't you going to ask who they are too?" the dark haired woman asked as six other men came out, and stationed themselves around Angel's studio. Angel eyed the woman as she approached him. She was beautiful, but deadly looking. She was dressed in a complete outfit of black leather with her long dark hair pulled up into a tight bun. "They all have feelings too," she purred, almost in a seductive tone, but it was laced with innocence...like a child asking 'why.'
"Why are you here?" Angel asked tersely.
"Touchy now...aren't you?" she asked as she circled him, her thick heeled boots clicking against the wooden floor.
Angel saw red. Not only was this woman pissing him off, but he didn't like the way the men were touching his various and numerous paintings...and he especially didn't like the fact that they were here. "How about you leave?" Angel snidely suggested.
The dark haired beauty ignored him, and walked toward one of his paintings. "This painting is missing something..." Angel quirked an eyebrow, he had had that same feeling too... "I can fix it." With that, she stuck her foot through the canvas. "Much better...don't you think?"
Her men laughed, and agreed. "What the hell was that for?" Angel demanded angrily. "Why are you here? I don't even know you!"
"Of course!" Dru exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "How rude of me! My name's Dru..."
"Get out."
Dru's lips puckered into a pout, "But we only just got here...and the fun has just started..." As if to demonstrate her true meaning, she stuck her foot through another painting. Angel lunged at her at, and clocked her in the jaw. Dru grasped her jaw bone with one hand and looked at him in surprise. He had hit her!
Angel looked at his hands, equally surprised. He had never hit anyone in his life before...he was always a 'lover, not a fighter.' Then again, wasn't that typical for an artist like him? Angel's eyes darted around the room, a circle had formed, and it had closed around him...crap...
Angel was able to land a punch on one guy's cheeks, knee another in the groin, and kick another in the chest...while Dru watched, her lips curled up into a smile. It was only a minute or two before Angel was pinned down onto the ground.
"You gave up a pretty good fight for a pretty boy," she commented as Angel wriggled in an attempt to free himself, but the guy was too strong. "Your first fight?" Angel glared at her. "Let him go." Dru commanded. The men obediently obeyed, and stepped back out of the room. "Okay big boy, it's just you and me."
Angel let out an angry yell and charged towards her, only to be thrown back the moment her foot connected with his stomach. He hit the floor and slid back a few feet, and stopped when his head his a few of his own paintings. They came crashing down and literally covered his head from view. But kind and thoughtful Dru came, and kicked them aside.
"Get up." She ordered.
Angel didn't stir. His body ached all over, and he was having difficulty breathing. He opened his eyes only to find himself staring into Dru's dark ones. He swung his fist at her, but she blocked it with a grab and flipped him over onto his stomache.
Blood poured from Angel's nose. It wasn't broken, but it had been enough to knock something lose he supposed. Face down on the wooden floor did not feel good. He groaned, and waited until Dru crouched down to peer at him. "Had enough?" she asked coyly.
Angel's fist flew out from underneath him, and hit her in the cheek. The impact set Dru down on her rear, and a bruise was now beginning to appear on her cheek. "I'll take that as a no," she growled. "Stand up." She commanded.
Angel couldn't...and wouldn't. Dru glared at him and motioned for two of her men to come over. "Help him stand." Angel groaned. Blood was smeared all over his face, and bruises littered his arms, legs and chest...he was pretty sure that he had a cracked rib bone or something because it hurt when he breathed.
He was about to make another snide remark, but couldn't when Dru began landing kicks on him like crazy, and he had no choice but to stand there because two of her goons were holding him still. Then she began to pummel him. "Let him stand on his own." She finally said as she stepped back, and wiped the sweat on her brow.
Angel collapsed face down onto the ground again. "And now time to take care of the thing that gave me this," she purred maliciously. She placed her foot on Angel's right wrist, and began to apply pressure to it. Angel yelled out in pain, and there was a sickening crack.
Dru lifted her foot off when she was sure that his wrist bone was either cracked badly or broken. With a nod of her head her men began to trash some of his paintings. Angel laid there, not moving, but still conscious. His face was etched with pain.
Dru crouched down and whispered in Angel's ear. "Have another imitation ready soon. I'll be back before the month is over."
"What are you talking about?" Angel managed to gasp out.
Dru's eyes narrowed, "Like the one in the gallery." Angel thought hard, he had never given one of his imitations to a gallery before. Not only was it illegal, but he had just done them as practice. He would never do anything so stupid. "I suppose Giles never told you?"
Angel's eyes widened, no...Giles...he didn't! Dru laughed, "I'll let you two work it out...remember...another one..."
"No." Angel managed to cough out. Dru whirled around, and walked back to him.
"You have another way to pay of your debts then?" Angel wanted to punch the ground, but he was unable to even move...how could Giles think getting loans from gangs was better than getting loans from banks?! Angel remained silent and Dru left.
As soon as he heard the car drive away, Angel heard someone come in. "Decided to spend the night?" Angel managed to grind out.
"Well last time I checked I lived here," came a familiar voice.
Angel's eyes looked up to see Giles who was rummaging through a plastic white grocery bag. "I got some food for us...who were those people anyways? They didn't seem like the friendly sort...why are you on the floor, and what happened to all of your paintings?"
"It was those friendly people." Angel grumbled, wincing as he tried to move his right hand.
Giles had dropped the grocery bag. "Look at you!" he exclaimed as he attempted to dress Angel's wounds. "You're a spectacle. What did they want?"
"Money...another imitation...you wouldn't happen to know about one of them being in a gallery now...would you?"
Giles placed the blood stained white cloth back into the bowl of warm water. He sighed, and brushed his hands dry on his pants before taking of his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt. Angel tried not to laugh, not because he didn't want Giles to hear, but because when he talked or laughed his chest hurt...Giles had confirmed that he had a very badly bruised rib.
"Well you see, the bank would not give me a loan because of my credit history," Giles explained, "And I happened to meet some loan sharks of some sort one day, and they made a very tempting offer-"
"And you accepted?" Angel asked incredulously even though he knew that his father had. His father had yet to learn the 'American' ways...he was still one of those hopeless broke British tourists who believed that all Americans were good.
"Well in a way yes...but technically no..." Giles stopped cleaning his glasses when Angel gave him the bored look. "Fine...yes..." he muttered as he put them back on. "But it was an honest mistake I tell you."
"I'd hope so..." Angel was cut short as Giles accidentally jostled Angel's right wrist a bit too hard. "ARGH!"
"My apologies!" Giles said hastily. "Perhaps we should go to the hospital, and get your hand looked at."
"No." Not only did he hate hospitals...with their sterile sheets and walls, and the smell...he grimaced at the thought...the smell. But the bigger reason was that they did not have the money. They were in debt as it were.
Giles sighed. "I'll be in my room if you need me." He said as he got up and shuffled down the small hallway to his bedroom. Angel didn't say anything, and just laid there on his bed. He lightly prodded his limp right hand with his left. He winced slightly; it hurt.
"They just had to break this wrist," Angel muttered in a clipped tone. "Guess that means that I can't paint their stupid picture now." It was true though. He couldn't paint an imitation while his hand was in this sort of condition; he could definitely paint his own sort of paintings with his left, but an imitation? As good and talented as he was, he wouldn't be able to.
.............................................................................................................
Buffy dragged herself to the office the next day. The only thing that fueled her showing up at work the next day was that snide wake up call Glory had given her this morning. "Buffy! You better wake up or else you'll be late...or maybe you don't want to go to work because you're still sore over the fact that-" Buffy had slammed the door in Glory's face to get ready before the devil's spawn could finish her sentence.
Her morning had been uneventful, and now she was on her way out, even though it was only about 1 in the afternoon. Today she wore a long sleeved white shirt, dark blue jeans, and black heeled boots. Not extremely fashionable, but then again, she really didn't care about the way she looked...at least not at the moment.
Then her cell phone rang. She pulled it out, and flipped open the cover. "Hello."
"Li- Buffy?" came a familiar voice.
Buffy smiled as she neared a corner. "Hey Willow." She said with a grin, then she almost walked into Spike who came around from the other side of the corner. He was on his cell phone as well, but he pocketed it away as he and Buffy stood there, staring at each other. "Uh Willow?...I gotta go...I'll call you later, ok?"
"Well hello...William."
Spike's eyes lit up in amusement while Buffy's eyes glowered at him, not amused. "Ello luv...did you like my present?"
"Do you enjoy mocking me?" Buffy asked icily.
Spike's eyebrows furrowed, and the playfulness in his eyes were gone. "To be honest Buff...I didn't know what to get you...I wanted to get you so many things. But I promise to fill up that empty box-"
"You can keep your stupid things because I don't want them, and if you keep this up I swear- I won't come to your engagement." Buffy warned, her tone hard. With that she turned around, and went back to her cubicle, the one place where she knew he wouldn't follow her into. Buffy wanted to scream at him. Did he know what he was doing her?
Grumbling, Buffy returned to her desk. "Why are you back so early?" Anya asked as she came over to Buffy's cubicle.
"I thought I had an idea." Buffy tried.
Anya smiled as she patted Buffy on the back, "Good for you! More ideas means more money for you and the business, and that means a better economy!" Buffy couldn't help but giggle as Anya walked away. What would she do without her friends?
Just then her desktop computer screen came on with a picture of an envelope on it. The envelope flashed 'You've got mail.' Buffy raised an eyebrow, and clicked on it. Turned out that it was a video email...it was Spike. "I'll be waiting down at the parking lot luv...be down in five minutes."
Buffy rolled her eyes, and deleted it. Five minutes later her cell phone rang. "Hello?" she answered without looking at the caller ID.
"Where are you?" Buffy let out a noise of frustration, "If you're not coming to me," Spike continued, "Then I'll just have to come to you." Then Spike hung up.
Buffy's eyes widened. Crap...he was going to come in here? The one spot that had been her sanctuary from HIM was no longer going to be so. She grabbed her purse, turned off her cubicle light, and ran out. "Leaving again?" Anya called as she rushed by.
"I lost my train of thought!" Buffy yelled as she ran out. She ran down the hall, and headed for the stairs, thinking that Spike would take the elevator. Her heels noisily clanked against the cement stairs, she was somewhere between the fifteenth and eleventh flight of stairs when she ran into him.
"I knew you would try to avoid me." Spike declared triumphantly as he tapped the side of his nose with his index finger as if to tell her that he was all knowing. Buffy let out a 'damn,' and began to go back up the stairs, but he caught her. "And where do you think you're going?"
"Away from you." Buffy struggled against him, but he dragged down the remaining flights of stairs, and all the way down to the underground parking lot. Spike basically shoved her into the passenger side of the car, but forgot that she could get out. As he went around the car to the driver's side, she opened her door and ran out.
"Buffy!" Spike yelled as he ran after her across the parking lot. Buffy escaped from the parking lot, and headed for the crowded amusement park. "Bloody hell woman." He added under his breath as he pulled out his cell phone and called Riley.
Twenty minutes later a kicking Buffy was literally carried back to Spike who was still waiting by his car. "What took you so long?" Spike asked Riley who winced as Buffy managed to land another blow on his chest.
"Hold her tighter!" he barked at the other men. Riley rubbed his sore spots before speaking, "Look at her! She's a wild beast Spike. It wasn't easy."
"You're such a pig Spike!" Buffy announced as Spike's body guards stuffed her into the car.
Riley looked at Spike again. "I told you..."
Spike sighed, and grinning he got inside the car, and drove off with Buffy. "You cheated," Buffy blurted out.
"Oh?" Spike asked. "And how so?"
"You had your men block all of the exits, entrances, AND you had them come look for me!" Buffy ranted. Spike chuckled, and reached for Buffy's hand, but she crossed her arms over her chest. Spike glanced sideways at her, "If you want me to come with you, you'll have to respect my space." she told him.
Spike suppressed a groan. How dense was she?! Spike parked by a Tiffany's Jewelers, and once again, had to drag Buffy in. "Try this on." Spike urged as he held out a silver ring diamond ring. It was a simple thin silver band with a medium sized diamond in the middle. Buffy refused, but Spike put it on her hand anyways. "Hmm...a bit big."
Spike put this one back, and tried another one, and another one. "What are you? Sadist or something?" Buffy demanded angrily. "You're making this so hard for me!"
Spike grabbed her by the shoulders, and turned her around so that she was facing him. "Do you love me?" he asked. Buffy turned her face, and didn't answer. Spike's hold on her tightened, and his voice became more desperate, and more urgent. "Answer me! Do you love me?!" Buffy still didn't answer him. The volume of his voice rose, "DO YOU LOVE ME?!" he shouted.
Buffy closed her eyes to prevent the tears from leaking out. Spike let go of her shoulders, and grabbed another ring. It was a three carat heart shaped diamond on a silver band. ((Take a look at the ring! H t t p : w w w . t i f f a n y . c o m / e x p e r t i s e / d i a m o n d / r i n g s / e n g a g e m e n t f a n c y r i n g . a s p ? r i n g = h e a r t &)) Simple looking, and it fit Buffy's finger perfectly. He tossed it into the hands of the jeweler, and told him to have it ready for his engagement day.
Spike faced her again, his eyebrows furrowed, and his blue eyes flashing. "On the engagement day, I am going to put this ring on the person I love." he said. His voice sounded cold, but was full of emotions. "I'll get the car started." Spike left the store, and Buffy began to cry. A few minutes later she wiped her tears, and began to leave the store.
But as fate would allow, she ran into her most favorite person: Glory. "What do you think you're doing?" Glory hissed. "Who do you think you are, going 'ring-shopping' with my fiancé?"
Buffy glared back. "I will and can do whatever I want." Buffy shot back.
"Excuse me?!" Glory demanded angrily. Then her angry scowl was replaced with a sly smile. "Why? Do you love him or something?"
Buffy stood there. Millions of thoughts rushing through her head, she bit her lip and answered. "As a matter of fact, I do."
Glory who hadn't been expecting this answer stood there as her lips twisted into a vicious snarl. A dark look crossed her face as she slapped Buffy. Buffy in return kicked Glory in the stomach. Then Glory attacked. She leaped towards Buffy, and began to violently tug at her hair.
Buffy let out an angry yelp, and shoved Glory off of her. Then Spike came in. All of the sudden Glory embraced Buffy, and began to smooth her hair down for her. Buffy's eyebrows furrowed as a confused look crossed her face. She pried herself from Glory's grip, and stumbled backwards into Spike who glanced at Glory, and then back at Buffy. "So...who's hungry?" .............................................................................................................
Spike took them to what was probably Glory's favorite restaurant, the Medici Terrace. Spike sat on one side, and Glory and Buffy sat on the other. Buffy who had lost her appetite a long time ago poked, and moved her veal around. Buffy felt someone touch her foot. She looked at Glory, and raised her eyebrows as if saying "what."
Glory looked at Buffy strangely, and continued eating her pasta. Buffy felt someone bouncing her feet up and down again. Buffy rolled her eyes, and moved her feet closer to her chair. Buffy felt the taps become more insistent, and harder, but continued ignoring them.
Spike wanted to growl. Damn that woman! She was completely ignoring him, and proceeded to move her veal around her plate, unfazed by his foot tappings. Spike brought his foot back, and hit hers harder than usual. This time she looked at him. Spike smirked, and did the same thing again, but even harder, unfortunately, this time, his foot bounced, and hit Glory's as well.
Glory looked up from pasta, and confused looked at Buffy, and then Spike. She made a face that basically said, 'Ok...' and resumed eating her pasta. Buffy pushed herself back from her table, and stood up. "I think that I'll leave first." With that she ran out the restaurant.
"I wonder what her problem is." Glory commented. Spike watched Buffy until she disappeared from sight, and shrugged, and silently continued eating HIS veal. Glory watched Spike. "William...you haven't really even thought about our engagement have you?"
Spike shrugged again. "Sure luv." he replied. Glory eyed him suspiciously as they continued to eat their meal in silence. .............................................................................................................
A/n: I apologize for the long time it took to update...it's really long so hopefully it makes up for it. My hard drive was wiped...my stories and everything was gone. So it's a little hard...I put this up as soon as I could, so I am hoping it all flows. So...what BTVS fic should I do next? Visit my profile page and vote in your review!