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Chapter 1 – Of Chocolate and Videos
You'd have thought that after a year, I'd have learnt to hold keys, a stack of videos and a Starbuck's hot chocolate all at the same time.
But, no, everyday some gust of wind or old woman comes barging into me and knocks me flying, sending whatever hot beverage of the day down the front of my shirt.
Surprisingly, it never happens to Faith. I secretly think she pays women to barge into me. She gets a kick out of torturing people. It's what she did when I wouldn't let her decorate the Dating Apartment. Needless to say, she got to decorate the apartment.
"Do you need help?"
I turned round awkwardly, trying to see over the tops of my sunglasses in that ultra cool way that only celebrities can do. "Do I need help?" I echoed.
Faith looked innocently up at me, "Do you not need help?"
I scowled, "No, I don't need help, I just poured hot chocolate on my favourite top, you know, because I felt like it."
She nodded, "Okay." Her dark brown eyes lit up in excitement at the sight of the mountain of videos that had greeted me when I opened the letterbox. "Are they the videos for today?" She asked, placing herself next to the pile and started to look through them.
I nodded, trying to stop the stain that was now turning my previously white t-shirt a nasty brown colour and see-through. Cursing under my breath, I pulled off my ridiculously huge sunglasses and turned back to Faith, who was happily sorting out the videos into two piles; men and women.
"Five men and two women." She said brightly. She frowned lightly as her gaze rested on my top, "How many times have I told you not to wear that bra? It's so unflattering."
I glared at her, while trying unsuccessfully to hide my chest area with my arms, "Faith, just… just get the first video ready."
I walked out of the TV room and into the small bathroom that was crammed with toothbrushes, make up and medicine of all sorts. It was like we lived here, which in a way I guess we did.
After knocking over around a million bottles just to find a cloth, I dapped apprehensively at my t-shirt. The water didn't make it any better. In fact, it made it worse.
I walked back out into the TV room, "Faith, do you have any spare tops here?" I asked, pulling my long blonde hair into a messy ponytail.
"No."
I sighed dramatically and flung myself onto the couch next to her, "Great." I muttered, taking the notepad and pen from the table next to me. I flipped through a couple of pages, scanning the notes I'd made on other clients. "How did the date go last night with Anya and Andrew?" I asked, stopping at a fresh page. "Has she rung you yet?"
Faith shook her head and glanced at me, remote ready in her hand, "Are you ready to write?" She asked.
I nodded and leaned back as she pressed play for the first video.
An image of a small gothic-looking girl came on.
"My name's Drusilla Ford and I'm twenty."
"Looks fourteen." Faith commented.
I hit her on the arm.
"As you can probably tell, I'm into Gothic and historical things. I like reading mostly gothic romances or histories. I sing and play guitar in a band. I like Chinese food and the opera. I really just want to meet someone. Someone I can talk to. Every guy I know seems to be a complete jerk."
"Is she for real?"
I scowled at Faith, "Will you shut up?" I snapped.
"I want to meet a fellow Gothic if possible or, if that's not possible, then a poet or writer."
Faith snorted, "So bloody clichéd."
I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
"My telephone number is 0617 54368. Please call me if you find anyone suitable. Thanks."
Faith turned it off. "A Goth who likes the opera? Well, I guess there's a first time for everything."
I ignored her and scribbled down notes on my pad.
Goth. 20. Opera. Chinese food. Anyone. 01617 543368.
I looked over at Faith, who was busy rewinding and switching tapes. "What do you think apart from being clichéd and unique at the same time?"
She glanced back at me, "Well, she could do with some more colours apart from black. Maybe dark red or dark purple if she's not willing to wear normal colours. She seems to be able to do her make-up and hair fine, so no problems there, though the black lipstick is so going."
I nodded and sipped my hot chocolate, "She seems nice. We'll look for matches later."
Faith seated herself back down next to me and took a look at my notes. "What about this?" She asked, grabbing the pad and scribbling quickly. "Right, another woman." She said, pressing play and throwing it back at me.
I looked down at the pad to see what she'd written next to my notes.
Needs life. Get into real world.
I flipped over to a new page, as a busty blonde came onto the screen.
"Is it on?" The woman in the video asked snappishly.
There was a murmur.
The woman suddenly smiled, "My name's Cordelia Chase!" She giggled, "I'm a model and like shopping, modelling and going clubbing. I hate reading, computers and museums, 'cause they're just sssssssoooooooooooooo boring."
I winced, jotting down notes.
Busty Brunette. Model. Enough said.
"I'd like to meet a man who's rich and is tall, dark and handsome." Another giggle.
I grabbed the remote from Faith and switched the TV off, not wanting to hear her squeaky voice any longer.
Faith was laughing her head off, "We are SO going to do her!" She cried, after she'd calmed down a bit.
I stared at her, "You can do her on your own then."
She pouted, "But think about it B! So much potential that you can wield! You can mould her new personality! You love doing that!"
"Yeah, with people who actually have a chance of becoming someone better." I motioned to the TV, "I somehow doubt that she can."
Faith rolled her eyes and grabbed the remote from me, "You just need to think about it. I'm sure you'll see." She switched the TV back on.
"Okay, well, my telephone's 05127 634824. Call me!"
I shook my head as Faith rewound and swapped the videos, "No, no, no. That's wrong on all levels."
"Oh, get some balls Buffy." Faith scolded as she came back to the sofa with Cordelia's tape in hand, "I'll ring her after we've seen the guys and arrange a meeting."
I shook my head in defiance but didn't say any more. Previous experience proved that getting into arguments with Faith was never good unless you planned on losing your pride and a limb on the way. So, to avoid World War III and the destruction of Cupid's Arrow, I calmed my temper and forced myself to concentrate on guy No.1.
You know when you see those guys walking down the street or in their cars and you think 'Oh my god, he's so cute.' And then you see his either completely gorgeous girlfriend or his totally-not-worth-his-time girlfriend?
Well, guy No.1 was like that guy. Except he didn't have a girlfriend. Or, at least, he shouldn't have seeing as he's applying at a dating agency.
"Forget dating, sweetie, let me lick you all over."
I was jolted out my thoughts by Faith's blunt remark. I sighed wistfully, dreaming of a world where it would be possible for me to date a guy of that standard.
"Um, my name's Angelus O'Connor, but call me Angel, everyone does." He smiled casually. "Well, my friends do. But, you know what they say; strangers are friends you haven't met yet."
There was a snorting in the background and Angelus scowled to someone behind the camera.
"Shut up Spike." He looked back, "My father told me that and I believe it. Anyway, my interests and hobbies, right?" He nodded to himself, "Right, well, I like reading, painting, playing rugby, though I'm not very good, and I Iike pizza and clubbing. I'm a businessman and work in the PR industry. " He paused, "I'm looking for any kind of girl, who enjoys a laugh and isn't too fixed on image or money and stuff like that. Number's 08324 162259. Call me if you find someone."
Faith switched it off and we both sat there in silence just staring at the TV screen.
"He's too… perfect." Faith said at last, breaking the silence.
I glanced over at her, "Yeah, did you see what he was wearing? I swear I counted at least seven holes in those jeans."
She threw me a smirk, while swapping tapes, "Thought him too poor for your tastes?" She teased.
I scowled at her.
Over the past three years I'd been living in London, I'd developed a taste for high-class rich men and was a sucker for shiny Mercedes Benz and bunches of red roses. Over the past year, I'd gone through a number of boyfriends gaining such presents as diamond earrings and even a seafrost coloured Jaguar Convertible. What? I like cars.
My current boyfriend was a businessman called Riley Finn. He was an entrepreneur and lived in Woodstock Street, a posh street just off Oxford Street. Faith hated him and called him an arrogant prick, but I liked him. Plus, he gave me an adorable little Beagle puppy which I named Honey, so for now he was staying.
"He's just… he's not my type."
Faith nodded seriously and returned to the couch, "Yeah, you go for the forty-something guys who are losing their hair."
I frowned, put out at this remark, "Excuse me, I'm twenty four years old, I do not go out with forty-something year olds. I go out with thirty-something year olds."
Faith shrugged casually, "No difference." She pointed the remote at the TV, "Ready?"
I looked down at my pad and realised I hadn't written anything about Angelus O'Connor, "No, hang on."
"You can put; Yummy, perfect, yummy."
I ignored her.
Businessman. Painting. Non-shallow.
She nodded at what I'd written and pressed the remote.
An hour later, after watching the last two guys, finding at least five matches for all of the new clients, ringing two of the guys and organizing the dates for the week to come, we were exhausted.
Faith, managing to persuade me to put my people powers to the test, phoned up Cordelia Chase and arranged to meet with her over lunch.
"Faith!" I scolded, after she'd finished talking to Cordelia, "I can't meet her for lunch!"
Faith gave me an annoyed look and folded her arms, "And why not?"
I gestured wildly to my chocolate stained T-shirt.
She sighed huffily and handed me her black polo neck jumper.
Trying it on, I realised that paired with my black trousers, my pale skin was on the verge of looking unhealthy and because of Faith's bigger-than-mine cleavage, the jumper hung rather limply at the front, causing my basically non-existent boobs to disappear.
Faith laughed when she saw me, "You know at twenty four you should consider a boob job."
I scowled, thinking I had the most unsupportive friend ever, when the phone rang.
Both Faith and I ran for it, hoping it was one of our favourite clients, Anya Jenkins, who we'd sent on a date last night with strict instructions to ring us the following morning.
I stuck my tongue out at Faith, as I grabbed the phone and proceeded to pour out the long mind-boring greeting that we'd come to rehearse, "Hello, Cupid's Arrow Dating Agency for Men and Women. We are the Professional Cupids. How can I help you?"
"Buffy, is that you?"
"Anya? Yeah, it's me. Hang on, I'll put you on speaker phone." I obliged Faith's frantic gestures and placed the phone back in its holder and pressed the speaker button.
"Anya? What happened? How'd it go? Did you snog him?"
I smiled slightly at Faith's lack of tact.
"Nothing big, don't worry." Anya replied, the laughter evident in her voice, "I had a lovely time, but…"
"You didn't like him?" I guessed, flipping casually through my notebook seeing if I could come across anyone suitable.
"Oh."
I looked up in time to see Faith wilt with disappointment,
"I'm sorry guys, it's just… he wasn't right. Bit too old, I think."
"It's okay, Anya." I soothed, "We'll find someone yet. We have a 80 percent success rate, you know."
Faith gave me an odd look.
I shrugged.
"80 percent? Or a dating agency that's pretty good!"
Faith smirked, "We are the best."
"I'm sure you are! I will certainly recommend you to all my single friends."
"Oh don't," I laughed, "We're over-run with clients as it is."
"Well, I'd better leave you to it then."
"Okay, Anya. We'll phone you later today." faith said, jotting down a reminder in the appointments book.
"Okay, talk to you later."
"Bye."
"Bye, Anya."
I pressed the disconnect button and sighed, "Another no."
"That's the fifth."
I nodded absently, flicking through the pad, "I'm going to ring Drusilla." I said after a moment.
"Okay, if possible schedule a meeting for tomorrow morning." She collected up all the tapes, "Possibly breakfast?"
I nodded in agreement and dialled the number Anna had left us, waiting patiently as the dial tone rang loudly in my ear.
"Hi, I'm not home right now but if you'd like to leave message then please do. But only if it's urgent cause chances are I won't ring you back."
There was a beep.
"Hey, I'm assuming that this is Drusilla Ford's answering machine. You never actually said." I looked up as Faith came back, "This is Buffy Summers from Cupid's Arrow, if you could meet me and my colleague tomorrow morning, possibly for breakfast, say at around 9 at Harvies, that would be great. If there's a problem with that then please ring us back on 04085 629440. Bye!" I hung up and dropped the phone next to me on the couch, "When are we meeting Cordelia?" I asked, writing down the appointment with Anna in the appointment book.
"At 12."
I nodded and ran a hand through my already messy hair, "What about Angelus?" I glanced at the clock, wondering how long the meeting with Cordelia would last, "Should we meet him or just set him up like the other guys?"
Faith frowned thoughtfully, "I think we should meet him." She decided after a moment, "We may as well. It's not everyday that a man like him wanders into a dating agency. We should find out why he needs out help."
I snorted, "What, like if he has any mental problems?"
Faith nodded seriously, "Yeah, exactly."
I stared at her for a moment, "You just want to see him in the flesh." I accused snappishly.
Sometimes Faith was so annoying it made me want to scream. One time, there was this guy named Gunn and she adored him but they weren't going out, so typically she went on and on and on about him. And when they finally did go out she went even more about him. Though only when I saw her, which was never cause she was always out with Gunn. And when they broke who was there to dry her tears? That's right, me.
"So? What's wrong with wanting to see him in the flesh?" Faith asked innocently.
I shook my head and dropped the subject knowing that I wouldn't get anything out of her.
Not that I needed to. She hadn't even met the guy and she was drooling, that was plain to see. But with Faith I get worried; she falls in love so easily that it makes her fragile. It also makes her a bitch in hell when she doesn't get her way but that's to be expected. Anyway, there's no way she'd fall in love with a stranger. Nope, I knew that much. She would not fall in love with Angelus O'Connor. If anything, I would.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed the prologue. You have encourged me. -
- X-identaty
- krissy
- no1buffyangelfan
- star-prancer
- crystalix
Now review if you like it, love it or hate it.
