because nobody likes a vague disclaimer: Main characters belong to the fantastical Joss Whedon. Rated M for Mature themes.

Sorry for the delay. Buffy POV.

Chapter VIII: Me, I Writhe In Dirty Sheets While Staring At Blue Walls And Nothing

from Melancholia by Charles Bukowski

†

The urgency to get away puts me in New Mexico by the next night, ironically enough, thanks to Angel. I hadn't seen the package he left on the bed until after I manage to turn and look at the door closed behind him.

I give credit to how well he knows me: he provided me with ID, still Buffy Anne Summers, but I end up dropping the Buffy, and go by Anne instead (Buffy, I'm afraid, is as lost as the infamous needle in a haystack). There's also a grand amount of cash; I suppose he has some left over trust account from Wolfram and Hart, or something. It doesn't matter really. I need the money. And lastly, he left me a phone number. I have no clue why, I'm leaving to get away, not stay in touch. However, its inclusion turns out to be pivotal for me.

I like it in this new place enough that I stay awhile. The mesh of culture, and the surprising forest terrain captivate me at first. I spend the nights of the first few weeks roaming the streets of the city, and though I don't do any actual vampire hunting it starts to feel more and more like i'm patrolling, and more often than not I start ending up at different bars or small pubs, and flirt to get free drinks. At least, it starts that way.

But now, I'm not sure how much I like what direction my life is taking, not that I blame the state, or anyone but myself.

It took me under a couple of weeks to start engaging in drunken one-night stands. Apparently, I'm easily seduced by rugged men. If I were to be completely honest with myself though, I might say that the real reason is because their shades of stubble and sun-kissed skin contrast Angel's still alabaster flesh enough for me to forget, enough to set my skin ablaze at their touch. The connection is only physical though and the walk of shame in the early morning leaves me feeling empty.

I meet him on one such morning. The night before, I'd had one too many and not only was I now kind of hungover, I could feel the pit of loneliness like a knot in my stomach. Distracted the entire way home, I kind of stumble into him just as I turn the corner to my street.

"Sorry." I mumble, barely looking at him as I make to move past.

"I'm not."

His answer catches me by surprise and I turn towards him. He's smiling hungrily as I catch his eye. I can barely avoid the tiny amused grin that slips through my lips when I realize he's trying to flirt with me.

"Is that so?" I manage to make the words sound skeptical.

"Who could come to regret bumping into a beauty like you?"

"Ew." I reply, immediately repelled by his choice of words.

"It's like 6 in the morning, I haven't even had my coffee yet."

He laughs,"My bad."

Then with a mischievous grin he adds, "How about I buy you a coffee then?"

Though i'm tempted by his playful manner and good looks, he's not exactly my type, (he's more clean cut than i'm used to these days), and still covered in the shame and scent of another man, I feel compelled to turn him down.

"Maybe another time." I say with a polite grin and turn away from him.

As I retreat, I hear him say, "I hope so."

Coincidentally, the next time I run into him is at a coffee shop. It'd been a couple of weeks later, and I'm on my way back to the motel from my morning run, when he enters the cafe just as I'm about to exit.

"Well this is rather poetic don't you think?"

I see him before he sees me, so his words don't manage to surprise me this time.

With a shrug I reply, "Small world."

"Next time then?" He says just as I make to move around him. Remembering that I hadn't exactly said no the first time i'd met him, his persistence seems to be doing the opposite of bothering me as well.

"I guess we'll just have to see." I reply without inflection.

To be honest, I'm not sure if i'm going to let him, but the chase is fun, and it's become the best part of my nightly excursions out on the town. I leave then with a playful grin directed at him, and before he has the chance to say anything back.

By the third run-in, it's obvious he's either stalking me or he live's in the area, and when I say so, he laughs with genuine mirth.

"I came on that strong did I?" He answers still grinning.

"You're kidding right?" I scoff back at him.

"What can I say? Sometimes I lose my head around pretty girls. And i'm a Libra, charisma runs in my sign."

I can't help the smile that crosses my face at his words, but I reply, "Jeez, you never stop do you?"

"If it's what you want, then yes." He replies rather seriously.

"I'm a flirt, but I get the meaning of no, all you gotta do is say it. Which you haven't."

"What would be the fun in that?"

He smirks, "Is that a yes then?"

Deciding I rather enjoy flirting with him, and I seem to be running into him far too often to make him conquest material, I answer, "Oh I never said that. You haven't exactly answered my question either yet."

He chuckles again, "I live around here. I can show you my driver's license if it'd make you say yes—I mean feel better."

"It might." I flirt back.

Obligingly, he pulls out his wallet, and passes me his id. He does in fact live close to me, and I only know because I've roamed the many streets around my motel, and I've passed his numerous times. I pass it back to him, seemingly satisfied with this information.

"Feel better?"

"I'm not sure yet. Ask me next time."

The smirk on his face seems satisfied with this reply, like he knows it's just a matter of time, that someday he will in fact get that yes. And more and more, I'm starting to feel it too.

"At least tell me your name then." He says.

"Anne." I decide to tell him more in an effort to get his than to comply with his request.

He extends his hand, and I can tell he's using the opportunity as an excuse to hold mine, but I put my hand in his, and the warmth of his palm extends to my palm and he speaks.

"I'm Cruz."

†

By our fourth interaction, we're near the cafe where we'd had our second encounter, and it's early morning yet again, and I decide to finally accept his offer. We walk together to the cafe, and I find out that he's on his way to work, as he had been that time, and after he buys me the coffee, he gives me his number before he leaves.

"Maybe we can do this for real next time."

A week later I go on my first coffee date with him, and oddly enough all we do is share one kiss at the end of it. Though it's not saying much since I've continued to have other rendezvous at the end of many nights since I first met him.

We go on a few more dates, and though we haven't had done it yet, it's not for lack of trying on my part. He still doesn't know where I live, and wanting to keep it that way for the moment I haven't asked him to come over, but he also hasn't invited me to his place either, even despite how hard I try to get him to.

It's when I turn down a potential suitor, despite the urges I feel coursing through me, that I realize that in some subconscious way i'm trying to stay loyal to him, and the feeling is too akin to actually caring about him, that I decide to finally end the affair.

I take a few shots of Jack Daniel before I head to his place. His address had imprinted into my mind that day I'd seen his license, and it'd be a lie to say I hadn't already been to it.

The building is small and the entrance is deserted, so I walk up the stoop and press down on the buzzer with his name labeled next to it. A few moments go by before the speaker crackles as someone speaks.

"Who is it?" He asks, surprise in his voice.

It's kind of late, and I feel relieved he doesn't seem to be expecting anyone at this hour.

"It's B-Anne." I reply, nearly saying Buffy, and not knowing why. I hope the lack of clarity of the speaker goes both ways, and he doesn't notice the error.

He doesn't seem to as he replies, "Come on up."

The door buzzes then, and I pull it open. I make my way up the two floors to his apartment, where he's standing at the door holding it open, a grin on his face.

"What a pleasant surprise." He says when I reach him.

His back to the door, I plant a wild kiss to his lips. Looking into his eyes after pulling away, I know he's taken the lure, and so I move inside with him trailing after me.

A/N: Not my favourite chapter, and though I'm not expanding the Cruz 'ship, I felt the story (and Buffy) need him, just for a little longer. Angel next!

Thanks again.