Take My Breath Away

Part 1
**

Buffy Summers sat; one bronzed and toned leg crossed over the other, her Jimmy Choo stilettos bouncing up and down with her foot as she waited as patiently as possible. Taking another sip of her Cosmo to help calm her nerves, she looked around the dimly lit restaurant, watching the other clientele interact. This was the worst part- waiting that is.

Drumming her pale polished fingernails on the bar top, Buffy took one last long swig of her drink finishing it off and wondering if she'd been stood up. Not that at this point she'd mind, it was close to twelve and she was tired; she was also on the verge of being drunk that being her fifth cocktail in an hour and a half. She had always been a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

She jumped slightly as her purse began to vibrate; smiling guiltily she entertained the idea of what she could do with the vibrating object before quickly squelching the idea and pulling out her ringing phone to answer it.

She listened intently as Cordelia Chase rambled on dramatically for a good five minutes before Buffy finally had a chance to interject, “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out.”

Cordelia Chase, twenty eight years old, was a year and a half older than Buffy. She had raven black hair, cut in a chic bob, and a body to die for with legs that went up to her neck. At five foot seven, she was a good bit taller than Buffy and a few pounds less. Her entire wardrobe consisted of Marc Jacobs and Ralph Lauren. Buffy had met her when she’d first moved to Los Angeles a few years back when she’d mistaken the older girl for a model.

Buffy loved her friend to death, Cordelia being one of the few friends Buffy had these days, but at times she could be a little dramatic. Actually, she was what most people would call a drama queen, an act that got old after the age of thirteen. It wasn’t Cordelia’s fault though; she honestly did not mean to be so dramatic, so Buffy tried not to hold it against her.

Buffy listened as Cordelia wailed on the phone about being caught in last season’s pumps proclaiming her life was over. Feeling a pair of eyes on her, Buffy swiveled around in her stool, coming face to face with an attractive dirty blonde haired, chiseled body, smoldering green eyed man; she smiled seductively at the man.

“Cordy, I got to go.” Buffy stated before adding, “And your life isn’t over, the man was obviously gay if he could spot last season’s Prada from this season.” With that Buffy hung up the phone and placed it back in her Chloé python rose and gold accented purse.

“Buffy Summers.” Buffy introduced, extending her hand to the man, taking in his good looks as she smiled appreciatively.

“Adam; and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The stranger replied, bending over to kiss the top of her hand. “I couldn’t help but notice that you looked lonely over here by yourself I figured you wouldn’t mind my keeping you company.”

Buffy’s face fell. “I wasn’t supposed to- I mean weren’t we- I’m very sorry but I’m actually meeting someone here.” Buffy stuttered, caught off guard.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as a blind date kind of girl.”

“Yeah, blind date…” Buffy trailed off having never thought of it that way before.

“Well if Prince Charming doesn’t work out for you here’s my card.” After handing Buffy a business card Adam walked back to the other side of the bar, fading into the darkness of the restaurant.

Looking up at the bar clock, Buffy shook her head, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been stood up, in fact she couldn’t ever remember getting stood up. Swinging her purse over her shoulder Buffy hopped off the bar stool ready to call it a night, still tipsy and now more than slightly annoyed as she thought of all the other things she could have done tonight besides sit at a bar- alone.

Very ungracefully Buffy bumped into a large figure, apologizing brusquely. Her head was beginning to throb and she knew tomorrow she’d regret drinking those last two cocktails. But before she could do that she had to go home call Maria Cole to bitch about tonight, put on sweats, and curl up under the warm covers of her bed.

“No it was my faul- Buffy?”

The sound of her name, she knew who she bumped into all too well. Only one person had the ability to make her knees turn to mush just by saying her name, hearing as it rolled off his lips like an unchained melody. Looking up, her eyes widened as she stared in shock unable to form a coherent sentence or even thought.

“Angel?”

Angel gazed intensely down at his former lover. It’d been too long since he’d seen her, since he’d heard her sweet voice. “You look good.” He spoke softly, dragging Buffy from her thoughts.

Brushing her blonde locks from her face Buffy look down shyly, her cheeks tinting a light shade of pink at the compliment, “So do… I mean, what are you doing here?” She asked and then realizing how stupid she sounded, obviously he was there to meet someone. Honestly, she could be so dense sometimes.

“Just getting out of the house.” Angel answered steering around the subject uncomfortably; fiddling with the single red rose he’d been holding.

Buffy’s eyes widened in horror, taking a sharp involuntary deep breath in Buffy tried to act nonchalant as she realized who had stood her up. This had to be a mistake was all she could think. Or a coincidence, Angel could have been bringing the rose for his date, not to signal that he was to be her client. Yes, she rationed, that had to be the case. Although, he never actually used the term date, the thought left a pit in the bottom of her stomach.

“And you, you’re uh, meeting someone?” Angel questioned trying to mask his jealousy as he thought of his girl being touched by another man. He shook his head at his mistake. It was funny how after almost five years he still considered her his girl.

“Oh,” Buffy paused unsure if she’d been caught, “I mean no, no I’m not meeting anyone.”

Angel smiled at her response; her answer gave him piece of mind.

“I really should be going,” Buffy’s voice shaking Angel from his thoughts. “Maybe we’ll-“

“Yeah,” Angel finished for her. After everything they’d been through, after years of dating, they were supposed to have gotten married, have children, after all of that- the pair had been reduced to sixty second pleasantries. An eavesdropper would have mistaken them from old acquaintances, not lovers. They were supposed to have made it.

Buffy smiled, drinking in all of Angel’s godly features. It was all she could do not to jump in his arms and never let go. Seeing him, here, in front of her all of her old feelings came rushing back. She remembered how hard it was to walk out of his life; she could smell his musky, sweet scent, his eyes were more chocolate and heavenly than ever- time had been very nice to Angel. She let her eyes linger over him before she turned around and walked out of his life. Again.

She did not want to think of his planned activities, he could not have been meeting her at the bar. Angel, her Angel, would not go meet some prostitute at a bar. He couldn’t, Buffy couldn’t bear the thought of that. She was disgusted at herself, more disgusted than ever. She kidded herself night after, making sure not to use the word prostitute, hooker, or any other sleazy word. She was a call girl, she had class. She did not sleep with people for money, she escorted men to various functions and if sex so happened to pop up… who was she kidding. This was not supposed to become her life; she’d only planned on doing this for a few weeks, just until she found a real job, a suitable job. The money was excellent though. It was hard to walk away from close to a grand a night. She had flexible working hours as well, Buffy herself picked and chose clients and hours she’d work. She wasn’t a prostitute, not her.

She felt a hand clench her arm. Buffy stiffened, halting mid stride. Turning around she came face to face with a very angry Angel. “Tell me you’re not Anne.”

Buffy turned her gaze to the floor. His words pleading with her to tell him he was wrong. As if her night wasn’t bad enough as it was; Buffy hated herself enough already without adding Angel into the mix.

Up until a few minutes ago it had been so easy to ignore exactly what she did, what she was. She never could comprehend why Angel had this pull over her, how he could make her feel these things no one else could. Mainly, right now, she just could not understand why more than anything she needed Angel to approve of her late night activities. The thought of Angel thinking about her as just some slut, it was unbearable. Buffy could feel her tears brimming in the corners of her eyes wanting to spill over.

“Why?” Was all Angel said, his face a mask hiding all emotions. Angel had lost the ability to feel the moment he saw the matching long stemmed red rose lying on the bar where Buffy had just been. “Why would you do that to your self?”

Buffy could hear the disappointment in his voice. She tried to be brave; she tried to act as if her job was just as ordinary as working in McDonald’s. She never could act around him.

“You’re better than some whore off the street.” His words were cruel and curt but Angel couldn’t seem to care at the moment. The girl he loved more than his own life was selling her body for money. Dirty, sleazy, filthy men were touching her. They didn’t deserve to be around her presence, they shouldn’t have been allowed inside her warmth.

“Are you that desperate for money?” He regretted his words as soon as he heard them leave his mouth, but he just couldn’t find the will to care, to take them back, to apologize. What Buffy did, what she was doing, if was unforgivable.

“I can’t do this right now Angel.” She needed to leave, and she needed to leave right now. She would not let him see her cry. Yanking her arm from his grip she waited for him to object, after seconds passed and Angel still said nothing, she turned and continued walking out the restaurant.

As soon as Buffy stepped out of the restaurant the tears she’d been holding in broke free, her mascara smudging with each new tear that soaked her cheeks and her turquoise strapless dress. By the time she made it to her condo, her body racked with each sob she took.

Willow Rosenberg, Buffy’s other roommate was curled up on the couch, a throw draped over her legs, her nose buried deep within the latest book she was reading. Hearing the door shut Willow turned her attention to the door, seeing her friend she was about to ask the blonde haired girl how the night went when she saw her rosy cheeks and eyes and teary face. Jumping up from her spot on the couch, the brightly colored tie dye throw falling gracefully to a heap on the floor, Willow rushed over to her friend’s side.

“What happened? Did…” Willow trailed off, concern embedded in her voice as her mind immediately raced to the worst possible scenario. She knew what Buffy did practically every night, she knew how dangerous it could be, how some guys would try to push the envelope. She’d begged Buffy numerous times to quit, even filled different work applications out for her friend in hopes that she’d pursue a safer career.

“It hurts.” Was all Buffy could manage as she slumped against the wall falling onto the floor, her knees against her chest her arms wrapping around her bony legs.

Willow checked her friend for any visible bruises, cuts, and scrapes. Finding none, she prodded her friend for more details trying to figure out exactly what had happened, and who Willow should call. She was torn between consoling her friend and calling the police to report a crime.

“Who hurt you?” After too many minutes in silence Willow questioned her friend again with more force. Grabbing both of Buffy’s arms she shook her friend causing her to look her in the eyes. “Buffy you need to tell me what happened.”

Willow felt to blame. She should have tried harder, should have pushed Buffy more to get out of the business. She could have stopped all this, prevented this from happening if only she’d tried harder.

Willow looked on at her friend in a mix of emotions ranging from sympathy to anger to guilt and confusion. Her blonde haired friend looked so small and lost as she sat in her own world of pain. She opened her lips but nothing came out.

“He’s so disappointed in me. I’m just a whore to him.” Buffy’s voice was barely audible. “He was my Angel.”

Willow said nothing, there was nothing to say. Gathering her friend into her arms she tried to soothe her friend. Although the pair had never directly talked about Angel, Willow had managed to gather enough information over the years to know that Buffy and Angel had been pretty hot and heavy at one point. She never knew why they split; Willow just knew that Buffy had left her old life for Los Angeles. Willow had also learned that it was pointless to try and push the subject of Angel; her friend was still completely wrapped up in him and totally in love still.

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