“I’m not talking about jumping off a three story building or hitting
yourself
over the head with a hammer, I’m talking about those little things that you don’t
even realize you’ve done until hours or maybe even days later, and all you can
do is curse and kick yourself in the ass for it, while you frantically attempt
to fix your mistake..”- ENAT
Every Now and Then
Title: Every Now and Then
Author: crystalix
Rating: T+ (for language and sexual references)
Summary: B/A Ficlet: “Every now and then, people do stupid things. Mine, in this
case, was that last martini”
Pairing: Buffy/Angel
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and co.
Distribution: Please ask first!
Every Now and Then
Every now and then, people do stupid things.
Now, I’m not talking about jumping off a three story building or hitting yourself
over the head with a hammer, I’m talking about those little things that you don’t
even realize you’ve done until hours or maybe even days later, and all you can
do is curse and kick yourself in the ass for it, while you frantically attempt
to fix your mistake.
Mine, in this case, was that last martini.
That last martini I had at that last bar last night, that my friends drag me
to every now and then in a pathetic attempt to get me dating. It’s not that I
don’t like guys or anything- it’s just all that I’ve met so far have either been
horny, cocky, a jerk, gay, or married. Which, as you’ve probably figured out
by now, leaves Buffy sitting all by her lonesome, at a bar that I didn’t want
to be at, with my friends long gone, sipping on that last martini that I shouldn’t
have had. Not because I drank and went joyriding or anything, or because I woke
up in some strange guy’s bed, but because it was that last martini that made
me JUST drunk enough to convince my friends that they had to drive me home, which
caused me to go to bed early, leaving that very important report unfinished,
my alarm for the next day unset, and Buffy, once again, lying in bed alone, drunk,
and single.
Which caused me to get up in a frenzy as I realized I was a good half hour late
already (with a headache that threatened to crack my head open no less), hit
my head on the sink when I was looking for my rarely used hairdryer, forced me
to skip breakfast (and my morning coffee), pack my bags in a rush, and thanks
to a surprise two-minute call from my friends in question to check that I was
alright- forget what little of the report I had done on my kitchen table.
Yippee. What a fun way to start the day.
So here I am, searching desperately through my purse for the house key that is
no doubt on my nightstand, wishing I hadn’t lost the spare, while my meeting
is going on without me and I’m standing in the hall once again, making a complete
fool of myself. I hear my neighbour cackle as she walks by, she never has liked
me much; ever since I tripped and spilt my morning coffee on her my first week
here in New York. Of course I was again, running late for work, and she had bumped
into me. I hear her snickering outside her doorway; the miserable old hag.
Looking at my watch and realizing that I was now an hour late, I give up on my
hunt for that small little house key that I never attached to my key ring, and
took off down the hall, doing my best to fish out some change for a cab as I
move down the elevator of my apartment building. Cursing once again as I find
only a few nickels, I turn my full attention to my bag, rummaging through it
as I quickly move through the front hall and to the entrance, leading to the
steps that I didn’t bother to look at.
So I didn’t see the neat little coin stuck to the third step.
Or the small glistening coming from a frozen patch of ice just on the sidewalk.
Before I know what had happened, I feel my (high-heeled) feet slip out from under
me, my eyes widening in shock as my body whips backwards. In a split second I
close my eyes and cringe, waiting for the contact that would make my oh-so nifty
morning complete.
I’m more than a little shocked when it doesn’t come.
So shocked, in fact, that I didn’t feel the strong arms that were now wrapped
around me, holding me not-too far from the ground.
After a few moments of lying frozen in the stranger’s arms (and no doubt making
an idiot of myself for what seems like the millionth time today), I carefully
crack an eye open, followed soon by the other. My mouth goes agape at the sight
that greets me. Holding me is a man that would put the word “gorgeous” to shame,
someone who is so sinfully hot that his eyes alone should be outlawed. His short,
dark hair is spiked up in an ‘I just got out of bed yet I’m still sexy’ look,
he’s dressed in a dark red shirt and a leather jacket, his strong features slightly
flushed from the cold winter air. And his eyes; chocolatey brown pools that you
could loose yourself in all too well, and never have any desire to find your
way out of.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
“Wow, if this is heaven- I could get used to being dead.”
Well, apparently my vocal skills aren’t affected, yay for that.
A twinkle of laughter flickers through his eyes, his lips twist into a smirk
that unknowingly invokes imagery that I KNOW is illegal in at all fifty states-
if I plead guilty can he be my cellmate?
His lips are moving, what’s that you say? Will I come to bed with you? Sure,
just tell me where and how about this side of now? I am such a slut, no, sex
slave? Yeah, I could work with that- okay, Wow! WHAT. A. VOICE. Oh wait, why
is he staring at me like that? Does he want me to answer? I was supposed to listen??
Damn, damn, damn….
“W- what?”
Great way to charm him there Buff, show him that you’re not only stupid you’re
also deaf…oooh! Is that another smile? Yes, we have hot-guy smileage! Go me!
“You’re not dead, here, let me help you up.” He says, and I actually manage to
register what he’s saying.
Hey! Not dead? What does he mean ‘not dead’? I have to be! I had a whole bunch
of plans worked out! With fluffy clouds and chocolate and a really nifty hot
tub and- OW!!!! Okay, not –ouch- not dead, dead can’t hurt this much.
He just managed to steady me before my not so un-painful ankle acts up, and I
find myself once again in his arms and all too close to the ground.
“You okay?” he asks, in that oh-so sultry voice.
“Yeah, my ankle is just a bit ow. No biggie.”
Ow? No biggie? What, am I five?
“Here, sit down, I’ll take a look at it.” He sets me down on a (very cold) step,
and carefully looks at my ankle. “Just a minor twist, you should be fine.”
Twisted? No, never would have guessed.
“Oh. Okay… are you a doctor or something?”
He laughs,
“No, I was just a royal klutz growing up. And for the first time in my life I’m
glad because as a result, I have good reflexes.”
He carefully massages my ankle, I mentally pat myself on the back for the barley
suppressed moan that threatens to escape me.
“Yeah, uh thanks for- that.” I say, referring to my less-than graceful plunge.
He smiles, carefully helping me on to my feet again; I’m astonished to find that
my ankle is painless. Wow, hey, you know I’ve had this really bad aching just
around my-
“No problem, your ankle any better?”
I nod, giving him a small smile.
“Yeah, thanks for- whatever it is you did there. And for you know- saving my
neck, wouldn’t have been the funnest thing in the world to die in a tragic ice
incident.”
He laughs again.
“No problem, I’m all for the… neck-saving and wow, did I mention I get really
lame when in the presence of a beautiful woman? I’m honestly a lot better at
flirting on a normal, day to day basis.”
Flirting? Beautiful? HAAAALLELUIAH!
A blush creeps across my face.
“I see… so on a normal day, if you’d saved the life of a very interesting woman
who just happens to be single, what do you think you’d do?”
There’s that smirk again, damn it’s going to be the end of me.
“Well,” he said, moving a step closer so he’s looking over me, “I’d probably
ask her if she wanted to grab a cup of coffee, hypothetically of course.”
“Of course.” I say, giving him a smirk of my own. “But you might want to be careful,
a girl could take that as an invitation.”
“Hmm, well maybe that was kinda the point.”
I smile, peering down at my watch for a second. Hour and a half late; work- right,
where I must go, so as not to get fired, but you know I am over an hour late…
“I have some time.” I say, smiling.
Nyah well, my boss will understand, if not- gorgeous here looks successful; maybe
he’s in need of a personal assistant? Pretty please?
“Well that’s always a good sign. And I happen to know a great place not too far
from here.” He says with a smile, slowly starting down the sidewalk.
I smile back, following him.
“You don’t say? Well in that case, lead the way my mystery savoir.”
He laughs and we start down the street. I hold out my hand to him.
“I’m Buffy by the way, Buffy Summers.”
He smirks, shaking my hand (and lingering a –score!- extra few moments).
“Angel.”
I can’t help my laugh at the irony, somehow not surprised at all.
So we walk down the street, his arm wrapped loosely around my waist, laughing
at the odd joke and flirting shamelessly; feeling more like lifelong friends
than practically strangers. Scratch that, lifelong more- than friends, because
as my pals have reminded me endlessly for the last year; I seriously need to
get laid. I sneak a glance at him again, catching the undeniable glint in his
eyes that’s telling me he’s thinking along the same lines. We’re mature, responsible
adults after all; who says we can’t be horny, swoony, teenagers once in a while?
(Or still- horny and swoony adults, whatever floats your boat). Either way, what
a fun way to start the day!
Every now and then, people do unquestionably smart things.
Mine, in this case, was that last martini.
The End
