Chapter 23
She leaned against the counter surveying the coffee shop. There weren’t many costumers, and the ones that were had already been served and were happily drinking their daily dose of caffeine.
“Hey, kid”
She looked over her shoulder to see her boss standing behind the counter, his hands entertained with drying a mug.
“Hey, Whistler!” She replied turning to face him.
“You trying to win employee of the month or something?” He asked with his already familiar half-smirk.
She frowned at that.
“You don’t work Monday mornings.” He noted.
“Mandy asked if I could fill in for her. She had a report to hand in today and was gonna pull an all nighter.” She lied.
Truth was she had called Mandy just a couple of minutes after Spike walked out of her room.
“Hey, Mandy. It’s me Buffy!” She said.
“Buffy?” A groggy voice was heard from the other side of the line. “It’s 2 am.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry to be calling so late.” Buffy quickly apologized. “Just wondering if you’d like to switch shifts. I’ll do tomorrow morning and you’ll cover for me Tuesday afternoon?”
There was a moment of pause.
“You’re offering to work tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Monday morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Horrid Monday-“
“Yes, Mandy.” Buffy cut her off. “I’m offering to work Horrid Monday Morning.” She sighed.
She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but if Spike was going to spend the night over, she had to find a way to be out the door the next morning before he woke. She could just go to the library… maybe study. But she knew if she ended up going to the library she would fall asleep over a stack of books like she had done before. This way she would actually keep herself busy and have Tuesday afternoon off.
“Well, of course I’ll take it.” Mandy answered enthusiastically.
Looking back now, she wasn’t sure if it had been a good idea. Monday mornings were really slow. Not a lot of people. Since the coffee shop was mainly frequented by college students, it meant most of them were in bed, sleeping.
‘Where I should be.’ She protested inwardly.
“He stole my happy Mondays.” She muttered.
“Say what?”
She snapped out of her thoughts to see Whistler looking back at her.
“Nothing. Just thinking.” She replied turning around to face the coffee shop when she caught a glimpse of familiar red hair. “Oz?”
The boy walked in, carrying a guitar over his shoulder a calm half-smile on his thin lips.
“Buffy.” He replied when he reached her.
“Oz!” She exclaimed realising that it was, in fact, her old high school friend standing in front of her.
A smile spread over her lips and she reached for him, wrapping her arms around him.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in LA with the band.” She asked, still a bit shocked to see him.
The last time they had met had been at the Bronze, just after graduation. The whole gang had come together to say goodbye. Oz and his band had decided to pursue their musical career and move to LA.
It had been an awkward moment. She never understood why Willow and Oz had broken up. They had been together since freshman year in high school – the perfect couple. Always together, but still approachable. They weren’t the common high school sweethearts, constantly glued to one another, overly affectionate to the point that it would make a normal human being want to hurl. No, that wasn’t them at all. They spent time together, but amongst friends, laughing and joking. Well, Willow did most of the laughing; Oz was always more reserved, occasionally dispensing a quick smirk. Buffy would sometimes catch them sharing secret smiles or private glances from across a room. She would always feel a hint of jealousy at that. Her relationship with Angel was nothing like that. It was fire, turbulence, fast and urgent, famished, even secret and forbidden, especially near the end. It was never serene or silent.
She felt the usual pang that the remembrance of those days brought and silently shook the thoughts away while her ever trusting social smile took over her lips – her attention focussed on the now; on the old friend standing in front of her.
“I decided to drop by. See how things are going.”
Oz’s reply filtered in.
“Wow!” Buffy exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically when she tried to prevent an awkward silence to settle.
It was something that always happened between her and Oz. She didn’t quite understand why but they always seemed to run out of conversation. It didn’t help that Oz wasn’t much of a talker.
“So?” She started. “How are things in LA?”
A knot started to take over her throat. LA equalled Angel. Had Oz seen him?
‘Why would he have seen him? LA is a huge city and Angel and Oz were never close.’ She told herself.
“Everything’s fine. Me and the guys have been getting a few gigs in local pubs. It pays the bills.”
“That’s great!”
The silence threatened to filter in.
“So…” She started.
A part of her mind begging her to find conversation while the other supplied the forbidden topic – Angel.
“…seen anyone from the old gang lately?”
‘Stupid!’ She scolded herself.
“Not really.” He replied.
‘Good, good. No Angel.’
“Good.” She said without thinking.
When the frown settled over Oz’s eyebrows she quickly corrected.
“I mean, not good. I mean, not that it’s not good to see old friends. It’s good. I-I just mean that it’s not wrong to not see old… um… friends.” She dropped her gaze at the end of her small ramble.
Oz remained unfazed, the frown gone from his eyebrows.
“Actually, I did see Cordelia a while back.” He spoke.
“Cordelia? Yeah, I heard she was in LA.” Buffy half muttered.
‘LA is a huge city. They’d never meet. And even if they did Angel would never-‘
“Seems she’s put her big break into Hollywood stardom on hold for a while.”
Before Buffy could ask he continued:
“She’s working for Angel.”
In an instant Buffy’s sight went blank. Literally blank. A flash on white blinded her. When her eyes finally focused she saw Oz staring back at her; his mouth was moving but no words were coming out. Gradually, she started to hear his voice in the distance.
“Are you ok, Buffy?”
She shook her head and put on that thousand dollar smile.
“Sure, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” She tried as hard as she could to untie the knot in her throat and force the words out. They came out hoarse.
“You turned kinda white just right now.” Oz explained.
“I’m fine.” She insisted. “So Angel and Cordelia are working together?”
“Yeah, seems Angel’s given up on the Force for good. Started a PI agency.”
The entire conversation was somehow making her nauseous. She swallowed hard when she felt an acid taste creeping up the back of her throat. All she could do, to reply was nod.
“Hey are you-“
“I’m fine.”
That one came out a little harsh, but she didn’t notice it immediately. She was still too busy trying to stop herself from vomiting.
After a couple of seconds she managed to look Oz in the eyes.
“You’re probably anxious to see Willow, huh?” She tried to smile, but it seemed too hard.
“Yeah.” He replied, eyes still scanning her.
“Well, I don’t know if she has classes today, but I can give you her dorm address.” She seemed all business.
“That’d be great.”
He eyed her as she wrote down the directions for the dorm on her pad, ripped out the piece of paper and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He replied.
He was about to ask her one more time if she was ok but she never gave him a chance.
“Well, I better get back to work so…”
“Yeah.” He nodded, picking up his guitar and walking out of her coffee shop.
~+~
After about 10 minutes guilt started setting in. She had been a bit harsh with Oz. With a sigh, she wiped her forehead and stared blankly at the almost empty coffee shop while she thought about their short conversation.
So what if Cordelia was working with Angel? That didn’t mean anything, and even if it did, it was none of her business… Not anymore.
She couldn’t figure out why thinking of Angel still left her so rattled, so unnerved. It had been almost six months since he’d left and they’d officially split up almost a year ago. Why did the simple mention of his name still make her throat close up, her heart speed up and her palms become clammy? If she really let herself think about it she would probably figure it out; at least partially. But she couldn’t. There was too much in the past to digest. Too many things she had never given herself the time to think about it.
She stared blindly ahead and, suddenly, an unfocussed memory of bile like vomit staining an already dirty sidewalk flashed in front of her eyes. As she let her mind wander back in time for a few seconds, the green and grey of the pavement slowly began to flicker red and blue. The picture blurred almost into a completely black frame before focusing back on a white surface with the letters LICE. As her vision panned off to the right, she silently congratulated herself for being able to identify a tire in the bottom corner.
“Lice? That’s just stupid.”
It was her own slurred voice that she heard in her mind.
“Who goes around town driving a car with…”
For a few seconds, it all went black and silent. No picture, no voice, nothing… until one last image flashed in her head – Angel, staring down at her; a strange look on his face, a strange mixture of fear and relief.
‘Rock bottom. Definitely rock bottom.’
“Hey, kid.”
Whistler’s voice snapped her back into reality. Shaking it off, she focused her eyes on the short man standing next to her.
“You sure you ok?” He questioned.
She nodded.
“Well, you don’t look so good.” He started; looking at her through narrowed eyes as he examined her. “Look, the place is really empty today, so why don’t you take off early? I’m sure Jules can cover your table.”
“No, I’m fine.” She insisted.
“Ok, so you’re fine.” He consented. “I’m just in a very giving mood today and I’m giving you the rest of your shift off. You’re on my good side, kid! Now get you’re things and scram.” He said with a half smile.
~+~
She let out a sigh of relief. Classes were over for the day. Thank God! All she could think about was getting home and locking herself in the bathroom.
‘A nice warm bubble bath is in order.’ She told herself as she walked the short distance from campus to her apartment.
She moved with short, speedy steps. The alluring idea of a bath compelling her tired body to move faster, but she stopped in mid stride when she saw the familiar car parked in front of her entrance; in the handicapped zone.
Standing in the middle of the sidewalk she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to get herself together.
‘I just wanted to relax. Why can’t I just relax? Why does he always have to-‘
“Wishful thinking?”
Her eyes snapped open at the low voice sounding just a few inches from her right year and a second later a black clad figure circled around, brushing past her right shoulder, to stand in front of her – hands shoved in the pockets of his duster, head tilted, his mouth distorted by an aggravating, closed smirk.
She stood her ground without saying a word as he blocked her way.
“Bet it’s about me.” He said, his smirk growing a bit wider.
“Actually? Yes!”
She could tell her answer had caught him off guard when, for a split second, his eyebrows came together for a frown.
“But, unfortunately, it didn’t come true.” She spoke while trying to walk around him, but he stepped in front of her once again.
He seemed to have recovered from the initial surprise and the cockiness was back in his voice.
“Really…” He trailed off, his scarred eyebrow rising on his forehead.
“Yeah. You still exist.” She said snidely, finally managing to walk passed him.
“Very funny, Summers.” She heard him as he caught up with her.
Realising that bantering would only encourage him she decided her best option was to ignore him. So she jogged up the front steps of her apartment building while taking out her keys. She walked in and was about to close the door when he stepped inside just before she had a chance to lock him out.
“What’s that, luv?” He asked when he heard her mutter something under her breath.
Her reply was to cross her arms over her chest while she waited for the elevator.
“Oh, you’re giving me the silent treatment. That it?” He asked, eyeing her.
She hated how exposed that made her feel. Instinctively, she tightened her arms around herself and he caught it.
‘If he smirks one more time I swear I’m gonna-‘
The sound that announced the arrival of the elevator cut off her thoughts. The doors slid open and she stepped inside, closely followed by him.
They stood in silence in the small cubicle. For the first time she was made aware of just how miniscule the elevator was. After the second floor the feel of the leather against her sweater started to bother her.
‘Come on, come on. Hurry up.’
Suddenly, the lights flickered and she jumped up when the elevator shook for a second.
“Nervous, Summers?”
“No!” She replied immediately, not bothering to look at him, her eyes fixed on the door, waiting for their floor.
“Afraid the lift might stop?”
She didn’t reply.
“Most women wouldn’t mind getting stuck between floors with me, pet.”
Even though she was looking straight ahead she could feel him smirk. She could hear it in his voice.
“Well” She finally looked up at him before adding with a fake smile on her lips “I’m not most women.” And her gaze was back on the metallic doors.
“I know.” He replied just as the elevator came to a complete stop and the doors opened.
She stood still for a few seconds, the reply catching her off guard. She had expected his usual rude, sexually promiscuous, snide remark. He wasn’t supposed to agree with her.
“Are you planning on getting off the lift?” He asked, waiting for her to move. When she didn’t, he added: “Or do you want go have another go. Maybe this time you’ll get lucky and we’ll get stuck.”
‘And annoying bleach-boy is back!’ She thought to herself, getting off the elevator and opening the door to the apartment.
The two stepped in. Buffy crossed the room, dropping her backpack on the couch before checking Harmony’s room.
“Well, Harmony’s not here. Too bad.” She said with false sympathy. “I guess you can go now.”
“That’s ok. I’ll wait.” He retorted plopping down on the couch.
“What?”
“I said I’ll wait.”
“But she’s not here.”
“Hence the waiting.” He grinned.
“But I want to take a bath.”
‘Did I just whine?’ She asked herself.
“No one’s stopping you.”
“You’re stopping me. How am I supposed to take a bath if you’re here?”
“Afraid I might find it too tempting?” He cocked his eyebrow at her and she cringed at the sight of him running his tongue over his lower lip. Before she was able to answer he continued in a blasé tone: “Don’t worry Summers, I think I can handle knowing you’re naked on the other side of the apartment.” He assured her, picking up the remote and turning on the TV. He propped his feet on the coffee table and focused all his attention on the program. “Don’t think it’s gonna turn me into a sex-craved lunatic.”
“Oh, no worries of that happening since you already *are* one.” She muttered between clenched teeth.
Buffy stood there for a few seconds and when she realised that he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, she resigned herself to the idea. She was too tired to fight him. Plus she could always lock the bathroom door.
~+~
He swallowed hard, shifting on the couch in a desperate attempt to find a comfortable position when he heard the water start running. He tried to focus on the TV, but there was nothing on. Frustrated, he dropped the remote on the couch and stood up. For the umpteenth time he ran his left hand through his growingly dishevelled hair as he began to pace around the living room.
After a few minutes he leaned against the counter, his eyes seemed to be drawn to the corridor that lead to the rooms and… the locked bathroom.
‘I think I can handle knowing you’re naked on the other side of the apartment.’ His words reverberated in his mind.
“Right.” He muttered to himself, pressing his lips together and dropping his gaze to the floor.
He shook his head when the same thought invaded his mind.
“Don’t even think about it, mate.” He scolded himself.
Closing his eyes, he rolled his head, trying to force himself to think about something else, but almost instantly his gaze was once again fixed on the locked door.
“It’s just a glimpse.” He started to reason. “No harm, right? Just on quick glimpse and- God! What am I thinking? Bloody hell, she’s turned me into a depraved peeping-Tom.” He continued his monologue as he gripped the edge of the counter.
He stared at the door for a couple of seconds before pushing himself off the counter.
“Fuck it!” He cursed and crossed the living room and the hall.