Chapter Four – Flowers and Flour

She'd been right. The flowers were beautiful. The arrangement was huge, easily three feet tall, and she stopped counting when she hit twelve different kinds of flowers. It was in a cut glass vase that had a red silk ribbon tied in an elaborate bow, and it was accompanied by a large basket of goodies, all some sort of chocolate. She picked through the offerings and wasn't all that surprised to see Godiva chocolates among the choices.

He'd spent a few hundred dollars on these items and Buffy felt sick with dread, sure that he'd feel cheated when he saw her and realized he'd wasted all that money. With a pounding heart, she picked the card off its little fork and opened it.

It's been lovely talking to you these past weeks.

Sunday can't get here quickly enough.

Hope you enjoy the sweets.

Yours,

Spike

She jumped when Willow spoke from the other side of the bar, "What does the card say?"

Buffy mutely handed it over then climbed up on a stool and snagged one of the chocolates out of the basket. She looked at it sitting on her palm then returned it to the basket. "Nobody's eaten any of these, have they?"

Willow shook her head. "No. They're yours, so I wanted to give you first crack at them." She handed the card back. "Sounds like he's excited to meet you."

Buffy grimaced. "I'll put the chocolates up where Xander can't get to them. I'm sure Spike will want them back. Not much I can do about the flowers, but they'll probably last through Sunday and Spike can take them home. I could put them in the walk-in. I'll have to move some stuff around to make room, but do you think that will help keep them nice longer? I always see flowers in coolers at the grocery store."

Willow frowned. "He's not going to want this stuff back, Buffy. He got them for you."

"After what he spent on them? Yeah, he'll want them back. And I don't want to talk about it anymore, Wil, okay? We both know what's gonna happen." Buffy slid off the stool and picked up the vase. "Can you take the basket upstairs? Stick it in the back of my closet or something. Hopefully that will keep it off Xander's radar until Spike can take it home."

With a breaking heart, Willow watched her best friend carry the gorgeous flowers into the kitchen to hide them away in the walk-in cooler. She turned back to pick up the basket and noticed Buffy's phone sitting on the bar. Without thinking, she snatched it up, grabbed the basket, and headed for the stairs.

XXXX

"Hello?"

"Um… Spike?"

"Who is this? How'd you get this number?"

"I got it from Buffy's phone. I'm her friend, Willow."

Spike's voice was full of alarm and worry. "Is she all right? Did something happen?"

"No, she's fine… um… I probably shouldn't be doing this, but she thinks… she's been so sad, and I'm sure you're not going to… but she thinks you are, so she won't even eat any of the chocolate, and she's in the cooler moving stuff around…"

Spike spoke over the babbling woman, "Willow? You're not makin' any sense, pet. Could you slow down and maybe start from the beginning? Why's Buffy sad?"

Willow took a deep breath. "Because she thinks once you see her, you'll take the stuff you sent and run away."

"Why would I do that?"

"She… about a year ago… she was dating this guy…"

"Riley? The prat who's been scribblin' her number everywhere?"

"Yeah, and she caught him cheating on her, and when she broke up with him, he… he hurt her. Not emotionally… well, yeah, he did that, too, but physically."

Spike's voice was nearly a growl. "What did he do?"

Willow's spirits were bolstered by the anger she heard in his voice. "He cut her face. Told her it was so no other man would want her, and now she thinks that once you see her scars, you'll run."

Spike muttered, "Daft bint. I love her heart, her spirit, her wit; don't give a bloody toss what she looks like." He spoke a little louder, "She's a black belt, been trainin' since she was six. How'd he get her down long enough to slice her up? Did he drug her or somethin'?"

"No. He acted all fine with her dumping him, because he knew she'd kick his ass if he threw a fit, then while she was packing up the junk he'd left in her room, he tased her then tied her up before he started cutting."

Spike's voice was full of rage, and he nearly shouted, "Why isn't that twat in prison?"

Willow swallowed hard, finding herself just a tiny bit frightened of the man on the other end of the line, then said, "He ran like the little chicken shit he is. He left her tied up and bleeding in the bathtub for almost eight hours while he packed his stuff and left town. Tara and I were gone for the weekend and Xan came up looking for her when she hadn't come down to relieve him in the shop."

Willow could hear Spike taking deep breaths, and when he spoke, his voice was calmer, but not by much. "All right. I'll need any information you have on him. I know a bloke who can track him down, no matter where he tries to hide, and, for the right price, he'll… take care of the problem."

Willow gasped at the blatant threat in that statement then stammered, "Uh… okay… um, that's nice that you want to find Riley and everything, but… it's not why I called. Buffy…"

Spike broke in, "Right. She thinks I'll not want her 'cause of her scars. That's why she's not sent any snaps of herself."

"Yeah. She's putting the flowers in the cooler, and I'm supposed to hide the chocolates from Xander so you can take them back because you spent so much money on them."

"Bloody hell. What do I do, Willow? I'll have to have some sort of reaction when I see her, 'cause she doesn't know I know 'bout her scars. Can't just ignore 'em, can I? But any reaction, no matter how slight, is gonna hurt her, and I don't want that."

"She's expecting you to take one look and find some excuse to leave, but if you stick around…"

"I could ask what happened, let her explain, and then try to convince her they don't matter."

"I think just sticking around would be better than asking her about them, at least right away. You might have to stay until the shop closes… or later. Coming back or calling her again after Sunday would be good, too. Just don't ditch her. That's pretty much all I can tell you." Willow glanced at the clock. "I need to get her phone back downstairs."

"All right. Soon as you can, send me the information on the twat."

"Um… you might want to clear that with Buffy first. I don't know how she'd feel about the uh… problem… being… taken care of."

"I see your point. Will you give me the information if I promise to have the twat turned over to the authorities instead?"

"Um… yeah. I could do that. If you promise."

"I give you my word, Willow. He'll not come to harm by my hand or those in my employ."

"Okay. See you Sunday."

"See you then. Thanks for the call, Willow."

"You're welcome. Don't hurt her, Spike."

"I'll try my very best not to, pet. You have my word."

XXXX

The bell over the door jingled and Buffy peeked out of the kitchen to see who it was. A large man who looked vaguely familiar had stepped inside and was looking around the shop. Buffy sighed in relief, figuring him for a local, and muttered, "Not him," then went back to putting cinnamon rolls into baking pans. She'd just put the last pan into the oven when the bell jingled again. She peeked out the door and squeaked then ducked back into the kitchen, standing with her back to the wall beside the door.

Spike strode into the shop, carrying a bouquet of flowers in one hand. He looked around then smiled when he spotted the redhead behind the coffee bar and headed in that direction. He laid the flowers on the bar then reached for her hand as he said, "You must be Willow." He lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the back. "I'm Spike. Might I speak with Buffy if she's available?"

Willow giggled as he released her hand then nodded toward the kitchen. "She's making cinnamon rolls. I'll go get her." She leaned close and whispered, "She's been freaking out all day. Please be careful with her."

Spike nodded and whispered back, "I will, pet."

Willow smiled and headed for the kitchen, only to have her arm grasped in a tight grip as soon as she'd crossed the threshold. Buffy jerked her to the side and whispered harshly, "Tell him I'm busy. Or that I left. Or that I died. Just get him out of here!"

Willow pried Buffy's fingers off her arm and shook her head. "No." She took Buffy's arm and started tugging her toward the door. "Come on. Your rock star sort-of boyfriend is here to see you."

Buffy hissed, "I can't go out there looking like this! I'm a mess!"

"You look fine and he's not going to care anyway. Come on." Willow stepped through the door, pulling Buffy along behind her. Buffy kept her head down, hiding behind the slightly taller woman, and bumped into Willow's back when she stopped. Willow stepped to the side and said, "Here she is, Miss Buffy Summers."

Buffy shot her a glare then straightened up, pushing her shoulders back in a defiant stance. She wouldn't cry when the look of revulsion crept over his features. She'd accept with grace and dignity whatever excuse he gave for his urgent need to be elsewhere. She'd thank him for his assistance and say how much she'd enjoyed their conversations and then she'd watch him walk out of her life. She reached up and brushed the hair out of her face then stepped forward, extending her hand across the coffee bar. "Hi, Spike, it's nice to finally meet you."

His hand grasped hers, but not in a handshake. He slid his hand under hers then turned it and lightly gripped her fingers so that he could raise them to his lips. She followed their progress and when she finally raised her eyes to his face, she gasped. He was smiling and his blue eyes were twinkling happily. He pressed his lips to her knuckles, leaving them there for slightly longer than was proper, then he raised his head and said in a quiet voice, "Lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss Summers. You look…" Buffy's guts clenched as she waited for his next words. He continued with a small chuckle, "to be a bit covered in flour, and…" He reached up and gently cupped her face then slid his thumb across her cheekbone, right across one of her scars. He lifted his hand away and looked at his thumb then brought it to his mouth, curling his tongue around the digit. Buffy gasped again as Spike asked, "Is that butter?"

Buffy nodded mutely then cleared her throat and rasped, "I was making cinnamon rolls."

Spike leered at her. "Can't wait to try one. Bet they're delicious…" he curled his tongue around his thumb again then murmured, "…just like you."

Willow fanned herself and whispered, "Is it getting hot in here? Geez, I'm gay, and even I think it's getting hot in here."

Buffy's gaze whipped to Willow then back to Spike. She backed up a step then stammered, "Shower. I need a shower. I'm… do you want coffee? We have coffee… and other… um…" She turned to Willow and whispered, "What else do we have? Can you get him some… of what we have? I'll…" She glanced at Spike, who was standing there wearing an amused smile, then she turned for the stairs, reaching behind her to untie the apron. "I'll be in the shower."

Willow stared after her then looked at Spike. "I'll… will you be okay here for a minute while I… um… Buffy?" She motioned toward the stairs.

Spike chuckled and sat down on a stool. "I'll be fine, pet, and don't worry, I'm not goin' anywhere."

Willow breathed out a tiny sigh of relief. "Okay. Uh… help yourself to some coffee… or whatever. I'll be right back."

Buffy bolted up the stairs, her face flushed and her heart racing. She fumbled with the door to her apartment then finally wrestled it open and dashed inside. She rushed to the window overlooking the front of the shop and whipped the curtains aside then looked at her reflection in the window glass. There were spatters of flour on her face and in her hair, and she still had a smear of butter on her cheek, but her scars were clearly visible, standing out in her mind like they were lit with neon.

She opened the window and leaned out, looking down at the shop's front door and completely not noticing the large black car parked on the other side of the street. "He'll walk out any second now. I gave him an out, so he doesn't have to make excuses for leaving. He can just go while I'm up here, and he'll never have to see me again." She watched the front door, waiting for the tell-tale jingle, then muttered, "Any second now."

She jumped and hit her head on the window sash when Willow spoke from behind her, "He's not leaving, Buffy. He's waiting for you to get out of the shower."

Buffy turned and pointed a finger in the general direction of the coffee bar. "Or he's waiting 'til he's sure I'm IN the shower before he sneaks out."

Willow huffed angrily. "Oh my god, Buffy, will you stop? He's still down there! He's waiting for you! Geez, could you give the guy a chance already? Did he look at you weird, even a little bit? Well? Did he?"

Buffy's arm dropped slowly back to her side and her eyes widened as she whispered, "No." She moved to the ottoman in front of her reading chair and dropped onto it with a thud. "He touched my face, Wil, my scar, and he…" She swallowed hard. "He didn't look disgusted at all."

Willow walked over and sat down beside her, wrapping an arm over her shoulders. "Because he's not. Now go take a shower before I sprinkle powdered sugar over you and serve you with coffee. You smell like cinnamon rolls."

Buffy snorted a laugh then wrapped Willow in a hug. "Okay. Will you tell him I'll be down in about twenty minutes?"

Willow stood up and started for the door. "I can do that. Bring the chocolates when you come down and I'll get the flowers out of the cooler." She paused by the door. "He brought you some more flowers, by the way. Do you want me to put them in a vase or do you want to?"

"I'll do it. Thanks, Willow."

Willow smiled. "You're welcome. Now get moving. Your boyfriend's waiting on you."

Buffy blushed and stood up. "He's not my…"

Willow made a loud shushing noise then grinned. "Not yet."