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Summary: After Angel leaves her, again, Buffy just wants to move on to something and someone normal. Well, by her definitions of it, anyway. Can Christian be that? Buffy/Christian Grey

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > ActionChloeBlackFR18411,4861111,7335 Aug 128 Aug 12No

-One-

A/N and Disclaimer:

Hello! Welcome :)

This is a little exercise I’ve started to get myself back in the mode of writing after taking a couple of months off over the beginning of the summer. I just finished the 'Fifty Shades' series and I couldn't resist! Totally in love with Mr. Grey :)

Some notes followed by the disclaimer--

--It’s set post season seven of Buffy and before book number one of Fifty Shades. That means no Ana in this story.

--The setting is in Seattle.

--‘ISC’ stands for ‘International Slayer’s Council’

--There’s Buffy drunk-emailing in here somewhere...a chapter or so ahead of this. I apologize if it comes off horrible. I don’t drink and I’m only basing it off of all the drunk texts I’ve received in my life, haha

-- There’s a few song lyrics from ‘Once More, With Feeling’ tossed in. I don’t own Buffy, or Fifty Shades, for that matter. You know who does! J



One

July 2010


The first day I met Christian Grey, I hated him.

To be fair though, at that point in my life I hated everyone, pretty much.

And I guess I didn’t exactly hate him….he just made my nerves boil.

My move to Seattle had been a cause of sorrow and heartbreak and I wasn’t dealing so well.

Angel and I, more him than I, had ended another tumultuous round of our relationship. For good this time. He left me.

Again.

It was like he broke me.


I stopped training, I stopped patrolling, I stopped helping the new arrivals, I stopped eating, I stopped talking.

I did exactly two things. Stare blankly out the window or lay in bed and cry.

Why can’t I feel? My skin should crack and peel…

After two weeks of this and a rather nasty call I’d almost had with an axe-wielding demon in Glasgow‘s City Centre, Giles informed me that there was going to be an opening for the ISC’s headquarters in Seattle. The CEO and a former Watcher, sixty year old Irishman Finnian Brogan, wanted to retire and explore the world with what was left of his youth and family.

It wasn’t until I was actually in Seattle, staring at my ridiculously large office, that I started to panic.

I knew absolutely nothing about running a supposed business! I mean, the Slayer-Watcher-Monster side I could handle just fine…but the business front? The PR? I knew nothing about that stuff.

Besides, I was still reeling from Angel’s-left-me-again-shock. What kind of boss could I be when I could barely hold myself together?

I told all this to Giles over the phone while I was mass producing sobs.

He latched into me, the way only he could, and told me that I needed to grow up and get my act together. That he would not spend his time seeing me cry over the same old thing over and over while there were things going on in the world. Important things. Things that did not involve Angel or myself. Things that were unspeakably evil and needed to be stopped. While there were young girls awakening to their newfound power every single day. Young girls that needed direction and help.

He added in the fact that it was my own stupid fault that I kept going back to Angel when I knew deep down that he was never going to be right for me. We were never going to be compatible. I needed to move on and get over it and that I should be grateful to him for offering me the escape.

I was grateful. I am grateful.

Of course that didn’t stop me from being insanely pissed.

I added Giles to my hate list, which was growing larger by the hour. By the minute, really.

Angel was at the top of my list, but Giles was right. It was my own fault for letting him back in when I did know that, deep down, it would never work out for us. Fate was and always will be against us. I put myself right under Angel’s name on my hate list.

At that time, I did hate myself. I hated that I didn’t listen to my two best friends when they told me it wasn’t a good idea. I hated that I didn’t listen to Dawnie. I hated that I didn’t listen to myself, to my instincts. I hated that I let myself get hurt by him, yet again.

On the morning of my sixth day as being the big boss, I stood in my considerable bedroom, staring at myself in the full length mirror, for a long time.

The Scoobs were right.

I’d changed.

I was pale and ashen. My usually bright green eyes were dull and seemingly colorless. My once strong body was on it’s way to becoming visibly weaker and almost frail looking. My long blonde hair , that once held some bubbly life to it, was now flat and unappealing. It sickened me. All of it.

What had he done to me? Who had I become?

I went from a strong, independent heroine that, with the help of another strong, independent heroine, changed the entire world, to just another weak, lovelorn woman.

It made me angrier than I already was at him. I loathed him.

I decided then and there…no more. I was changing my life around now. I was rebelling. I was going to change myself into something that I was actually proud to look at.

I started with my appearance.

Different. I needed something different.

Being Head Slayer has it’s perks. I have a large budget for clothing and other necessities so I decided that I was going to have some fun using it, which I most certainly did. I bought a closet full of clothes, mostly for work, but some for play too.

I did something that I wouldn’t normally do--fake tan. I only did it a few times, just to get my skin looking healthier again and then I cut my hair shoulder length, added some side bangs and dyed it a rich, velvety shade of brown.

Different.

I felt better, but only just slightly. My appearance had gained me a considerable amount of confidence over just ten days time, however, my heart was still in a coma after the wreckage that is, was and always will be Angel and I.

I went about my days though, learning all I needed to run this ISC HQ, which helped to distract me greatly, even though I was still dying on the inside.

Going through the motions, walking through the part….



On the front, ISC is a company that deals with the republishing of extremely rare books and antiquities.

On the inside however…well, that’s a bit different.

With the thousands of new Slayers rising up all over the place, the very first thing we had all decided after Sunnydale was that more than one location was going to be needed. The castle in Scotland is home base, but the ISC has buildings all over the world, each with a ‘CEO’ , of sorts.

The Seattle office is one of the bigger bases in the States. Well, top five anyway. Twenty-seven floors that each accommodate something just a bit different. New Watchers, New Slayers, the rare book thing, the antiquities thing, a whole secret floor that’s like an Olympic sized training room, class rooms, conference rooms……..everything.

Every Monday morning, at 10:30am sharp, there’s a meeting to discuss any particular going-ons that may have happened over the weekend. The same goes for Fridays, except it’s to go over what may or may not have happened over the course of the week, including new Slayers that have been found and any new evil beings that could possess a threat.

Seeing as how our LA branch is currently under repair due to some teenage demonic hooligans, I deal with the entire West Coast area. I get to assign the new Slayers a Watcher and they can pick from a list of Slayer training areas to go to.

While they are awaiting, um, well, deployment, I guess, they stay in the huge ISC owned apartment building that I was now living in, Ridgedale.

It’s sixteen stories and every apartment is large and beautiful. The first floor is technically the underground garage with the second and third floors belonging to the Watchers. The fourth and fifth floors are reserved for any family that want to tag-a-long with their daughters, and, my cook-slash-housekeeper, Katy. My driver stays on the second floor with the Watchers, as it’s closer to the garage. The Slayers themselves take up floors six through fourteen. The fifteenth and sixteenth floors belong to my incredibly expansive penthouse.



I was just two days into work week number two when my assistant, Charlotte, a very sweet and shy girl I brought over from Cardiff, knocked on my door and announced that a Mr. Christian Grey was here to see me.

I was right in the middle of brooding and I was quite angry to be disrupted. However, I was curious to see what the bachelor of the year wanted.

I’d never met him before but it was literally impossible to walk around anywhere in Seattle and not hear something about him. He owned so many businesses and had his hands in so much stuff. It was a little ridiculous. Young, business savvy, insanely wealthy and said bachelor of the year. Rumors of him being gay swirled tremendously.

I motioned for her to let him through.

She dipped her head outside the door and indicated that it was okay for him to come in. She stood back, held the door and in walked the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on.

Ever.

If he was gay, I was going to be seriously heartbroken.

He was tall with unkempt, dark copper hair. ‘Sex hair’ is what Faith would have called it. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of gray I had ever seen. He was wearing a lovely dark gray suit with a navy blue button up underneath, top button undone, no tie. Definitely designer.

I stared at him, slightly open-mouthed, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to be brooding.

“Ms. Summers, I presume?” he asked, reaching out his hand to shake mine.

I remembered my manners and stood up to reciprocate his handshake.

“Um, yeah, yes. Yes. I’m Miss Summers. Buffy Summers. Buffy. Please.” I stammered.

“Christian Grey” he said, still shaking my hand, slightly amused, yet I felt him wince in pain a bit.

I realized that I was gripping his hand too tight. I slowly yanked my hand away and gestured that he sit.

He did and I followed suit.

“That’s a strong handshake you have, Miss Summers.” he said, flexing his hand.

I ignored the comment, not knowing what to say.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Grey?”

“I heard that you had taken Mr. Brogan’s place when he retired. I just wanted to come and introduce myself, seeing as how we are neighbors.” he smiled, pointing out my window to the huge building across the street.

Mr. Christian ‘I’m a Greek God’ Grey’s company was right next to mine? Inner Slayer Buffy was kicking the crap out of Angel while she stuck her tongue out at him.

However, she stopped for a moment and forced me to process something. His tone of voice was a bit false for my tastes.

Introduce himself? Since when do rival CEOs introduce themselves?

When they want to snatch up your company, that’s when.

Well, fat chance, Mr. Grey. Inner Slayer Buffy laughed at the thought of him actually knowing what happened behind closed doors here.

“I see.” I said, smiling as pleasantly as I could imagine. I intertwined my fingers together and clasped my hands down on my desk. His Greek God effects were starting to wear off just as quickly as they came now that I was smelling false pretenses.

Or that could’ve just been Brooding-Lovelorn-Buffy making a comeback. She didn’t make a lot of sense.

“As lovely of you as that is, I’m sure you didn’t clear space out of your busy day just to come introduce yourself.” My tone was even and I smiled but it was laced with a bit of intimidation.

His eyes shifted a bit and he regarded me curiously, with his head cocked to one side.

“And what do you suppose I am here for then, Miss Summers?” he smirked.

Damn it. My intimidation skills were off. He barely even flinched.

“You tell me, Mr. Grey.” I smirked right back, pouring on more intimidation.

He looked a bit torn for a moment, like he was wrestling around with what to say. I’m not sure anyone else might have noticed that, but now that I was looking past his good looks, I felt that I could see him a little more clearly. He was a troubled man for sure. His gray eyes were anguished.

“This is your first experience in this setting?”

I nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”

Someone’s done their homework. I wonder just how much?

“It’s a bit to take in, as a newcomer, wouldn’t you agree?”

The sarcasm that dripped out of his voice annoyed me. Severely. He sounded so….so… condescending. It was very obvious that he was saying something else instead. Slayer Buffy wanted to Slayer kick him in his stupid, pompous head.

Funny, seeing as how three minutes ago I mentally had him naked in my bed doing unspeakable acts.

“Actually,” I started, standing from my seat and smoothing out my skirt. “I’m going to be late for a meeting. It was almost a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grey. Next time you want to drop into my office and insinuate that I’m not right for my job, or that I can’t do it, please make an appointment first.”

I walked out and left him sitting in my office, while I mentally popped him to number two on my hate list.



Later that evening, I was still quite peeved so I decided that instead of Jackson, my half demon, partially human driver, picking me up, I was going to walk home so I could clear my head.

Also, there was always the possibility that I would run into a vampire or something equally evil that I could kill.

That’s exactly what I needed. A nice, rough and tumble kill. I nearly smiled at the thought.

I crossed the street and started walking in the direction of home when a familiar voice from my tense morning stopped me.

“Miss Summers. How lovely to see you again.”

I spun around and there he was, in all his Greek God, ass-hat-y-ness.

I held myself up straight and managed a small, yet very annoyed smile.

“Mr. Grey. I wish I could say the same.”

He grinned. “Ouch. Your words, they wound me.”

“I’m sure you and your ego will be fine.”

“You walk to work?” he asked, ignoring my comment. He sounded a bit disgusted.

Ugh. Snob.

“No, my driver had a family emergency.” I lied. “Not that it’s any of your business, of course.”

I could’ve told him that I was walking home in hopes that I would find something evil to kill on my way because he made me so angry earlier and I was having issues letting it go because my on-again, permanently off-again two-hundred and fifty-six year old vampire boyfriend dumped me because of something as stupid as sex and an argument we had about Spike and Cordelia of all people, but I didn’t really see that ending too well.

“Well, Taylor and I would be happy to give you a lift home, Miss Summers.”

“Taylor?”

“My driver, of course.”

I took a deep breath.

“Thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Grey, however, I’d really rather walk.”

“Nonsense. Come.” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.

His close proximity had me swooning a bit again.

Damn hormones. He just smelled so good!

“You know, you’re awfully bossy.” I said, letting some of my anger melt away.

Some, not all.

He smiled and dragged me over to a fancy looking black SUV.

The driver, Taylor, opened the door and Mr. Grey pretty much all but shoved me in. He slid in beside me. Taylor got in the front and started the engine.

“Where do you live, Miss Summers?”

“Buffy. My name is Buffy. It’s what I prefer to be called. Please.” I semi-growled.

“Now who’s being bossy?”

I glanced over and I could tell he was trying to hide a large grin.

I sighed and gave up. “Ridgedale. On the corner of Virginia Street and 4th.”

His smile widened.

“What?” I felt like I was missing some private joke.

“It looks like we’re neighbors again, Buffy.”



August 2010

A month had passed since Christian Grey had entered my life.

It was like, now that I knew we were neighbors, at work and at home, I saw him everywhere.

I started running again in the mornings and at night. Well, I told him I was running at night but really, I was patrolling. Starting up my regular routine again, before all this new Slayer business that started so long ago now.

I needed something to make myself feel normal again.

I saw him almost always on my return home. Thankfully, not the few times I came home covered in demon entrails. I’m not sure I could’ve explained that one.

We entered our work at the nearly same time. I saw him when I would go for lunch, which was odd, because I would’ve assumed that his assistant would’ve gotten his for him. When I came home……literally everywhere.

I kind of felt like he was stalking me.

This particular morning, a rather warm and humid day, I was sitting behind my desk, trying to match some Slayers with some Watchers so I could move them on out.

Ridgedale was getting kind of crowded with hormonal, teenage girls and stuffy Watchers.

My super hearing detected some ruckus outside my door and I smiled a bit.

Before I knew it, my door burst open, Christian strode in, slammed my door shut in Charlotte‘s face, marched over to my desk and dropped several things down on it.

I could feel the anger pouring out of him.

“What the fuck is all this?!”

I looked over at the contents.

A stack of papers that told of his background, his entire tragic, sordid and steamy background, several pictures of women in various S&M poses in a red room that held, ahem, his, uh…sexual lifestyle choices in it, two broken locks, two crushed door knobs, and a small charm bracelet that was engraved with “To Buffy Happy 19th Birthday Love Always, Mom and Dawn”

Crap. I knew I dropped something.

“Hmm..it would appear to me, Mr. Grey, that this is a stack of papers, some pictures, what I think used to be door knobs, these look like locks, possibly, and a bracelet.”

He didn’t seem satisfied by my smart ass answer at all. I could see the absolute fury blazing in his eyes.

It was kind of hot.

What? It was. Just saying.

I quickly realized that we were going to just be diving right into this.

“Please sit.” I gestured to the chair.

“Tell. Me.” he growled.

I unleashed some mental Slayer fury on him.

“Christian. Sit.” I seethed.

He drew back, intimidated, which I’m guessing was a first for him, and then reluctantly sat down.

“Thank you.” I breathed, returning my gaze back to normal.

I turned to my computer, typed in a few passwords and brought up my email. I clicked on a particular one and spun the screen around so he could see it.

“Know what this is?”

“Enlighten me.”

Yep, still pissed.

“You see, Christian, I’m a very important person. I’ve got some ins with a special part of the government, two to be exact. I’m….protected, you could say. Meaning, when someone tries to do a background check on me, I get notified. It’s taken you longer than usual to get my background, correct?”

He didn’t answer. He just glared at me with his beautifully intense gray eyes.

I took that as my yes.

“That’s because I haven’t approved this yet. See, I just click…this one here,” I said, peering around the screen. “And voila. You’ve got my background. I assume that you’re still wondering about all this?” I pointed to the pile of stuff he’d thrown down.

He nodded.

“I believe the saying is ‘an eye for an eye’?” I picked up the pile of pictures and sat back in my chair, flipping through them.

“Wowee…these sure are steamy.”

I mentally slapped myself for saying ‘wowee’.

“What do you plan on doing with those? No one will believe you, you know.” he growled.

I sat in thought for a moment and then tossed his trademark smirk right back at him.

“Well, first of all, no. They probably wouldn’t. You’re very smart to have not put yourself in any of the pictures. However, I‘m not going to do anything with them. I was just proving a point, Mr. Grey.”

“You broke into my home, stole incriminating evidence against me and yet….you’re not going to do anything with it?”

“You’re missing the point where I would have to tell how I came to be in possession of all this. I can hardly say that I set up a nonsense meeting for you, called both your driver and housekeeper away, climbed an elevator shaft, broke three of your doors and a safe and then called in governmental favors to get an extended background of your life.”

I saw his mood shift. He visibly became more relaxed as relief washed over him.

He was now looking at me in I want to say shock or surprise. However, he didn’t say anything.

We were silent for a few extremely awkward moments.

“Okay, look. I’ll give you the Cliff Notes version. I was born in Los Angeles. January 19, 1981. My parents were Hank and Joyce Summers. I have a younger sister, Dawn. She’ll be twenty-five next month. Our parents divorced in 1996. I was kicked of Hemery High in LA. I’m not going to tell you why. Bad stuff happened. My mother, my sister and I moved to Sunnydale, CA. I went to school there for three extremely hellish years, graduated in 1999, spent a year and some change at UC Sunnydale, but dropped out when my mom got sick. She died. Some really heavy stuff happened. I di…went away, then came back, a lot of bad stuff happened, then some good stuff, then some more bad stuff but then it ended with a lot of good stuff.”

His eyes lit up. Something caught his attention, then. “Did you say, Sunnydale? As in--”

“The one that was leveled by a random earthquake that wasn’t felt anywhere else? Yep. After that, I moved to the UK with my sister and a few friends and I lived there, between Scotland and London until I moved back here last month to take this job. Nearly eight years.”

“You really--”

“Christian, I’m not really going to blackmail you. I’m not that low, jeez. Give me some credit, will you? Like I said, I was just trying to prove a point.”

“And the bracelet?”

“Er…I dropped it.”

“You climbed the elevator shaft?!”

Crap.

“No, I was just getting colorful. I hacked your pass codes.” I lied.

His eyes narrowed a bit.

“How?”

“My best friend is a super genius with that kind of stuff. Just sent her a picture. She used some fancy technology to analyze it and voila…pass code.”

That bit was true…just not about his pass code. We’d had to use that before on certain missions in London.

“And the door knobs? The locks?”

“Had to get in somehow.” I smiled.

“How--”

“I’m afraid that question, and any more questions that stem from it, are a hard limit for me.”

He smiled, finally, and retorted. “Are questions about your abnormal strength your only hard limits?”

Eek!

Was that question really laced with that much innuendo or was he serious?

I sat up straight in my chair and leaned over my desk.

“Did you just ask me what I think you asked me?”

“Depends on what you thought I asked.” He was still smiling. Except that it was growing more mischievous by the second.

“I think you just asked me to be your new, ah….applicant.”

“Then you would be correct. The whole point behind me getting your background, by the way.”

I tapped my fingers against my desk, nervously.

He really just asked me to be his submissive?

I leaned back in my seat.

“If you knew me at all, you wouldn’t be asking that.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m pretty rebellious.”

Burning down gyms, getting expelled from school, twice, a couple possible murder charges, a missing persons case, quitting the Council, also twice, wearing jeans to formal business meetings full of stuffy Watchers that frown on unprofessionalism….yeah, I’m a rebel.

“I can tell.“ he said, motioning to all the items strewn about my desk. “The idea is that we could curb that. Though…not curbing it is fun too.”

His eyes now held a wicked gleam and his grin was huge.

I took several deep breaths. My, my how the tables had turned.

“Um, can I think about this?”

“Of course. I’ll give you the weekend. If you agree, email me by Monday morning and we’ll set up a time to go over…stuff.”

He got up and left my office, in a much calmer state than he had entered.

I sat back in my chair, astonished.

Well, I wanted different….
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