Early Evening
West Side of Cleveland: DeLuca Luxury Apartments: Parking Garage
Parking the bright baby blue 1970 Ford Mustang in the designated parking lot in the apartment building's parking garage, Buffy turned the key in the ignition and looked at Graham sitting beside her in the passenger's seat. He had a comical queasy look on his face that was familiar to most of the passengers that ever rode with Buffy.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"That was… and the turns were…" Graham swallowed the nausea and cleared his throat and distracted his mind when the strange sound he had noticed that the classic car was making. "You gotta strange sound with the car."
"Oh, that sound was strange?" Buffy frowned.
Graham slowly nodded his head with a smirk, "Yeah, the thing about classic cars is that sometimes—well, a lot of the times they come with strange sounds." He got out of the car and moved around to the front of it and opened the hood.
Buffy followed him. She turned her eyes to him and watched as he examined the inner mechanics of the classic muscle car.
"It might be a broken fan belt or just clogged pipes." He stood up straight and began to close the hood. "I gotta take a trip to the auto store for some tools."
Buffy eyed at him with an impressed look on her face. "You're into cars?"
Graham shrugged, "I know some stuff. My brother is the real expert."
"You have a brother?"
Graham nodded as he took out the duffle bag from the trunk and closed it. "Yeah. Younger brother."
She leaned against the side of the car, folding her arms across her chest and she eyed him carefully. "There's a lot I don't know about you, Graham Miller."
Holding the duffle bag by the strags over his shoulder, Graham stepped closer to her and smirked, "Yeah, I can say the same thing about you, Buffy Summers."
Right then, both of them had realised it in that moment that there was an unexpected but undeniable spark between them.
Buffy promptly pushed that feeling away as did Graham. His mind repeated to himself that it was against the rules of friendship to even think about his best friend's girl in such a way. He told himself that it was her generosity that made her so attractive to him and not the twinkle of her green eyes or that adorable half smile that sent a cool shiver straight down his spine.
"Should we go in?" Buffy asked, being the first to step away from Graham and head towards the garage entrance into the apartment building.
Inside: 11th Floor: Apartment #314
Standing outside the wooden door of the luxury apartment, Graham waited patiently as Buffy took out a key and stuck it into the locks.
His blue eyes shifted from her hand turning the key to the profile of her beautiful face.
She opened the door and flicked the switch of the lights that were above the kitchen's counter island on.
Graham stepped into the large apartment. The apartment was designed in the open concept style. Large open-latch windows circled the apartments' preminatiors letting the light of the red-orange sun stream through the entire apartment. The city views were breathtakingly beautiful.
He followed Buffy further into the apartment and noted the girlish furnishings.
Buffy picked up a remote left on the counter island and lowered a few of the shades down to block the bright blinding sunlight.
"Wow," he looked around the beautiful apartment, "this is nice."
"I'll show you your room," Buffy waved her hand for him to follow him down the short hallway and opened a door. "This was Dawn's room. Most of her stuff is packed up and with her at school." She stepped further into the large room and crossed over to a smaller room that was the bathroom. "You have your own bathroom," Buffy flicked on the light. "Towels are in this closet." She pointed to a narrow closet in the bathroom.
Graham placed the duffle bag on the neatly made bed and watched as Buffy opened the door to another room. "And this is the walk-in closet," she said.
Graham crossed the short distance and stood behind Buffy, peering over her head into the closet. She had been right, this walk-in closet was pretty spacious. It would be its own studio apartment.
"Pretty cleaned out," said Graham.
"Yeah," Buffy said, switching off the light and turning to leave when she became nose to chest with Graham. Lifting her green eyes to his face, Buffy swallowed feeling the heat radiate off of his body. "I'll let you settle in. I can, uh, order a pizza or something."
Graham nodded his head, taking a step back to create distance between one another. "Yeah, sounds good."
Twisting her hands together, Buffy headed to the bedroom door when Graham's voice stopped her, "Buf," she turned to look at him, "thanks for everythin'."
Buffy gently smiled and continued to walk out of the bedroom.
Graham rubbed the back of his neck and unzipped the duffle bag. He reached inside and took out the black velvet box containing the Distinguished Service Cross and tossed it onto the bed then continued to unpack his clothing neatly folded inside the bag.
Walking back out into the main room of the apartment, Graham saw Buffy standing at the counter island with a laptop opened in front of her.
"Still workin'?" Graham asked, sitting on a stool adjacent to her.
"Uh, kind of… I'm just sending out an email. I ordered a pizza, half cheese and half pepperoni."
Graham nodded, "Okay."
She then closed the laptop and shot him a small smile before turning away. Buffy walked over to the winerack and picked out a bottle of red wine.
"Can you get two glasses in the cabinet?" Buffy asked, over her shoulder as she opened a drawer taking out a bottle opener.
Graham shifted off of the stool and walked over to the cabinet taking out two wine glasses.
1 Hour Later
Sitting at either end of the couch, Buffy's high heel sandals were on the floor and her bare feet tucked under herself. Graham had one arm outstretched across the back of the couch, finally beginning to feel comfortable in this apartment and with Buffy.
An open pizza box was set on the coffee table in front them.
"So... tell me, Miller," Buffy began watching Graham's smile widen. "Where're you from?"
Graham sipped the wine and reached over to the coffee table for the bottle. He poured some more wine into his glass and reached the short distance across the couch to pour the remainder of the wine into Buffy's glass. "Chicago," he answered.
"The Windy City. Your younger brother is into cars, what do your parents do?"
"Pop is a Building Service Director. He's been doin' that job since he got back from Vietnam." Buffy sipped the wine in her hand as she listened. "And Mom never worked—or she was a clerk until I was born and hasn't worked since."
Buffy hugged her knee into her chest and asked, "Why the Army?"
"Seemed like an adventure. I wanted to get out of Chicago and the Army was the fastest way to do that."
"You certainly got out," she said with a smile and sipped the wine in her hand.
Graham mimicked her actions and also sipped the wine in hand. "Lemme ask you somethin', Summers," he watched her cheeks redden and smile at the nickname. "What were you like before bein' the Slayer?"
Buffy began to laugh with embarrassment. "In a word, obnoxious."
"How about in two words." He teased her.
"Before being the Slayer I was... an obnoxious, narcissistic, Valley Girl cheerleader."
Graham's brows rose high up his forehead, "I find that hard to believe."
"You don't know me well."
"True," Graham shrugged. "But I know you well enough that you are an incredibly generous person. I can speak to that from experience. And that you're not only well respected but well liked by everybody around you."
Buffy frowned, "You've met Kennedy, right?"
Graham laughed, "Okay, almost everybody around you."
They stared at each one another quietly for a minute, separately trying to figure each other out.
"Rapid fire round," said Buffy.
Graham chuckled and put the wine glass in his hand on the table and relaxed back on the couch. "Fire away."
"Date of birth?"
"May 1, 1976. You?" asked, Graham.
"January 19, 1981."
Graham nodded his head, "A Capricorn. Would you describe yourself as ambitious, organised, practical, and goal-oriented?"
Chuckling at his strange knowledge of zodiac sign descriptions, Buffy sarcastically answered, "Only when my moon is a Gemini." She then mentally applauded herself for making Graham laugh.
"Are you from Sunnydale?" asked Graham.
Buffy shook her head, "No, not originally. Los Angeles. After I burned down the school gym from my first high school, my parents got divorced and me, Mom, and Dawn packed up our things and moved to Sunnydale."
"What does your mother do?"
"She was a curator at a small art gallery in Sunnydale. She died seven years ago."
Graham felt empathetic towards her and said, "I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
They sat in another silence again and looked at one another.
Graham could see the wheels in her mind spinning as she pensively looked at him.
"There's a lot I don't know about you, Graham." Buffy said, as she sipped the wine in her hand.
"You've already stated that."
"I mean it."
Graham tossed her an easy lopsided smirk, "You never needed to know anythin'."
"What'd you mean?"
"When you were with Riley, at the time, you knew everythin' you needed to know about me. I was strictly the 'best friend'—barely on your radar."
"That's not true," Buffy tried to say, though it was very much true. She hardly noticed Riley's friends—except for Forrest, only because he gave her such a hard time. But Graham was always quietly in the background, never demanding anyone's attention.
Graham gently smiled at her unoffended by the reality of it. "Sure it is. I felt the same way. Riley was crazy about you and that's all I needed to know. I had all the information I needed at the time."
"And now you feel differently?" asked Buffy, not realising how flirtatious the question sounded aloud.
"Do you feel differently about me?"
In a silent mutual agreement, they decided 'yes' they did feel differently about one another. Only having spent the day together, their budding friendship felt much older, like they have always been friends.
Buffy found him surprisingly easy to talk to. At first meeting her ex-boyfriend's best friend, Buffy found Graham quiet and almost aloof.
Raising the wine glass in her hand, Buffy said, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Graham smiled and reached for his glass on the coffee table and tapped the glass against hers cheersing to the toast.
Early Hours of the Morning
Neither had realised how much time went by as they sat back on the couch talking in an endless conversation about nothing in particular.
Finishing the last of the second bottle of wine, Graham watched as Buffy giggled to his story. He broke out of his shell sometime ago and Buffy discovered that he was very funny.
He could tell that she was a bit tipsy and he found adorably entertaining how her cheeks reddened and her smile grew large.
Relaxed was a feeling he hadn't felt like this in a long time. For years he had walked around with a mountain of stress and pressure on his shoulders weighing him down. The never ending and violent missions through the Brazilian jungles was just a continuous cycle of death.
Only having spent almost 20-hours with her, Graham understood Riley's infatuation with the petite blonde. Besides having the beauty of a goddess, she was thoughtful with a great sense of awareness. He laughed when she had described herself as defiant when it came to authority and then pointed out the irony of her position at the Council. Graham was captivated by her ridiculous intelligence which she frequently disguised with clever gallows humoured quips.
He told her funny stories of himself, Riley, and Forrest and all of the nonsense they had gotten themselves into during basic training.
"So we were all standin' at attention—'' Graham began to tell another story to Buffy about his bootcamp days. "—And mind you, it was pourin' rain and we've been marchin' around and doin' the obstacle course the last five hours, we were fuckin' miserable and starvin'. And the DI was walkin' up and down the lines yellin'."
Buffy sat forward, holding her chin into her hand. A smile twitched at her lips anticipating the punchline of the story.
"He was yellin', 'Is anybody here a doctor?'—Why he was askin' this, I dunno. But he got into everyone's face and asked, 'Are you a doctor?' and most of us replied, 'No, sir!'" Graham rubbed his bristled chin and continued, "Me, Ry, and Forrest are all standin' beside each other as this DI comes around to us. He asks me the question, I say 'no'. He asks Riley the same question and Riley says 'no'. Then the DI asks Forrest the question and Forrest says, 'Yes, sir!'"
Buffy's face twisted with confusion.
"The DI yells in Forrest's face, 'What the hell are you the doctor of?' and Forrest says, 'Sir, I am the doctor of love, sir!'" Buffy bust out into a fit of laughter. "Buf, I'm tellin' ya, never was it so hard not to laugh than durin' that moment."
"What happened to him? Did he get in trouble or something?"
Graham shrugged, "He had to run in the rain but it was well worth it. Out of all of us, Forrest was the one with the balls. He'd challenge anyone and everythin'."
"Yeah, I remember," Buffy smiled, rolling her eyes at the memory of the tense and most times unpleasant interactions with Forrest.
"Riley was always the best of us. The guy was born to be a leader. Sometimes Ry can be a little too black and white but he's good at what he does."
"I agree. How about you, Graham? Where did you fall into this trio?"
Graham thought for a minute and rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I was the voice of reason. Sometimes I think I'm too pragmatic."
"We needed more pragmatic people around here," she said, with a soft smile. "Too many idealists on this Hellmouth if you ask me." She watched as the corners of Graham's smile twitched into a small smile.
"If you weren't the Slayer, what would you have done?" asked Graham.
Buffy thoughtfully pursed her lips together and said, "Well, I probably would've finished college with a degree in psychology and I think I would've been a guidance counselor. Before Sunnydale was destroyed, I worked at the high school—it was more or less undercover so I could keep an eye on the Hellmouth but during the times when there wasn't a monster of the week or the First harassing us, I got to be a guidance counselor and I really liked it."
Graham could easily picture Buffy in the role as a guidance counselor. Because of her undoubtable experiences with social isolation because of being a Slayer, she was able to grow and develop empathy towards other outcasts. It would make her relatable to a majority—if not all of the teens going to her for advice.
"What about you? If there weren't vampires and demons, what would you have done?"
"I would've still joined the Army. Instead of neutralisin' demons in jungles, I would've been neutralisin' terrorist extremist groups in the Middle East. I wouldn't've met you though."
Buffy looked at him and waved her hand, "Nah, we would've found our way to each other somehow."
In that moment, Buffy wondered what it would have been like if she had met Graham first. If she had dropped those textbooks on Graham's head instead of Riley's.
"Why are you lookin' at me that way?"
Buffy shook herself out from her spiraling thoughts and said, "Nothing. I was just thinking of how much I like talking to you."
Graham tossed her an easy lopsided smile, "Yeah, I like talkin' to you, too."
Morning
Buffy's Bedroom
The aroma of turpeny, resinous, and dry distillation coffee entered Buffy's nostrils awakening her from a dreamless sleep only having gone to bed a few hours ago.
Her eyes opened and then stretched her arms over her head when she remembered that she had a new—albeit temporary roommate living in her apartment.
Sitting up in the bed, Buffy reached to the foot of the bed for her robe and covered her naked arms.
Getting out of the bed, Buffy tied the rope around her slender body, pushed up the sleeves of the robe, and ran a hand through her long tousled hair.
Following the freshly brewed coffee scent, Buffy opened the bedroom door and stepped into the main room of the apartment to see Graham standing at the refrigerator gathering the ingredients for pancakes.
Her eyes rolled over him for a minute before he turned around and noticed her. He wore a pair of black pajama pants and a white tank top that showed off his muscular shoulders and arms.
Graham turned away from the refrigerator holding a small bowl of eggs and the half gallon of milk in his hands. "Oh, you're up."
"You're cooking."
Graham shrugged, "I hope you don't mind. Think of it as a 'thank you for everythin' breakfast'." He smiled at her cheekily and set the ingredients onto the counter. "Do you like pancakes?"
"Will they be funny shaped?"
"Is there another way of makin' 'em?" He asked with a widening smile.
"I've never heard of another way and I watch every cooking show there is," she teased, enjoying the effortless back and forth.
Graham chuckled and poured her a cup of coffee. He passed it to her and told her to sit down at the counter island while he made her the best funny shaped pancakes in all of the world. They were so good Gordon Ramsey himself would be begging Graham for the secret ingredient.
Buffy laughed as Graham humorously boysted himself.
She watched him as he stepped over to an old-timey radio sitting on the counter. "Where'd you get that?" Buffy asked, sipping the hot coffee between her hands.
"My grandpop," answered Graham. He faced her, placed a hand over the radio. "This is a 1941 model 41-81T portable Philco Radio. My grandpop jumped out of an airplane on D-Day with this sucker in his pack. He took it all across France then through the Netherlands, Belgium, and all the way to Germany. He played it at the Eagle's Nest in Hitler's office. I restored it a while back and I've taken it with me everywhere since he gave it to me before he died."
Buffy smiled loving this story of a family heirloom to be passed down to generations to come.
He hunched over the antique radio twisting the radio dial to find a clear station, Graham paused as the beginning keyboard keys and drums opened up the song. Graham began to bob his head.
"Feelin' better now that we're through
Feelin' better, 'cause I'm over you
I learned my lesson, it left a scar
Now I see how you really are
You're no good
You're no good
You're no good
Baby, you're no good
I'm gonna say it again"
Buffy had fond memories of her mother playing the Linda Ronstadt 'Heart Like a Wheel' record over and over, filling the household with her operatic soprano, plummy, marked with a sultry vibrato voice.
She laughed unsure what had gotten into him as he began to sing along terribly to the rock song and play the air guitar to the music.
Buffy stares at him, finding herself more than entertained by his playful antics. She was happy he had broken out of his shell since their hours long conversation last night and into the early morning.
Buffy found that she very much liked his playfulness.
He moved around the counter island taking her hand to join him in the kitchen. Embarrassed, Buffy played along and let him pull her off the stool. He spun her around and pulled her close into his chest. One hand was at her lower back and the other held her hand as they danced to the music.
"I broke a heart that's gentle and true
Well, I broke a heart over someone like you
I'll beg his forgiveness on bended knee
I wouldn't blame him if he said to me
You're no good
You're no good
You're no good
Baby, you're no good
I'm gonna say it again"
Buffy laughed when Graham spun her around again and then held her close into his muscular body.
Lifting her eyes to his, Buffy fell into the depths of his icy blue eyes, transfixed by their sparkle. Graham felt that pull of attraction too. After last night, which lasted into the early hours of the morning, Graham was realising that it would be very, very hard not to develop feelings for this woman.
Remembering the 'guy code rule' of conduct involving your best friend's ex-girlfriend.
The dancing smile across Buffy's face twisted into an awkward expression. She cleared her throat remembering that she and Graham were strictly friends. "I should, uh, get dressed." said Buffy.
Graham nodded his head and stepped away from Buffy, "Yeah, yeah, I'll, uh, make breakfast while you do that." He watched her walk out of the main room and head into the bedroom to get dressed.
Graham lowered the volume of the radio and began to mix the ingredients for breakfast.
Song Used: "You're No Good" by Linda Ronstadt
