doyle

This was supposed to be for

open_on_sunday, but I couldn't get it down to 100 words...

"Hey. You okay?"

Buffy blinked against the sudden light and tried to look like she had a logical reason to be in a storage closet. "I was just..." She stopped, sheepish, and came out into the hallway.

The man who'd found her - someone from the science or med department, she guessed, going by the labcoat - had a kind face, and wavy hair, and she couldn't think who he reminded her of. Xander? No, that wasn't quite it.

"Hiding?" he asked sympathetically. "I know the feeling, my girlfriend just broke up with me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. Then, feeling like she should share too, and that, oddly, he'd be a good listener, she said, "Two of my exboy... ex... whatevers kind of work here."

He winced. "Intense."

"Yeah."

There was a lull in the conversation that should have been her cue to salvage some remaining dignity and exit, but something made her stay.

He said, "You don't want to, uh... there's a company bar on floor seven." He grinned. "If we're gonna be miserable, may as well do it during happy hour. And I promise, either of your exwhatevers show up, you can hide in the coatroom."

His smile was strangely infectious. She found herself saying, "sure, that'd be good. I'm Buffy, by the way."

She shook his outstretched hand. It was warm.

"Knox," he said.