Luceti Appointments

[vor]

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[deadhero]

"I am," she admitted. "Extra uncomfy. Remember the part where I told you about how only questionable non-gentlemen tend to...y'know...?"

She pointed at Spike's face. "Being a man is awkward enough. Being a man who's also an ex? Double unfun."

[vor]

Another nod. "I can imagine. Should I wait to open the other gift until you come back?"

[deadhero]

"How about...once I'm gone?"

She pushed her palms against the cushions and stood up.

[vor]

"As you wish." He stands with her and reaches out for a handshake. The only sign that this is a little awkward for him is that his wings spread a tad.

[deadhero]

She slipped a cold, dead hand into his. The shake was firm but brief.

"And you might want to put something on that eye..."

[vor]

"I've heard that, yes."

[deadhero]

"...I always liked bags of frozen peas. Any veggies, really."

[vor]

"Got it."

[deadhero]

"Take care, Gregor," she bade her farewell with a rare use of his full first name. Buffy had once seen a Gregor sliced through the chest with a hubcap and she often prefered to distance herself from any association between that violence and her recent friend; however, today? Gregor deserved his name. So -- in Spike's skin -- she gave him one last smile before slipping out of the apartment.

In the tall but narrow gift bag left behind, he'll find a pair of cowboy boots. Simple but supple enough. And red. With them was a note:

Greg,

Voila the riding footwear of my countrymen: cowboy boots. I'm not sure it gets any more plebe than this. If you like them, I'll get you a matching hat at Christmas.

Thanks for the lessons. Can't wait to get back to them when I'm feeling more myself. By now, you either know what I mean or you'll find out later.

Happy Birthday & many more,

- Buffy