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“Uh, Cordy?” Tara said in an undertone that she hoped wouldn’t be overheard (exactly how good is ghostly hearing anyway?). “What’s he doing?”
Cordelia looked up from the polish she was spreading on Fred’s toes with steady, even strokes. She immediately spotted what had prompted Tara’s concerned question: three oranges hovered in the air nearby, taking position carefully.
“He’s showing off,” Cordelia said in a normal tone, returning to her task. “He doesn’t get to entertain all that often, so he kind of goes all out when he can. This is his favourite trick - took him ages to master.” She finished the last nail on Fred’s food and set the polish aside. “All done. Give them a few minutes to dry before you start prancing around.”
“I don’t prance,” Fred protested.
Tara watched in amazement as the three oranges began to rotate in the air slowly, then faster and faster as Dennis got the rhythm. He was juggling for them! Tara laughed wonderingly.
“Does he ever drop them?” Buffy asked, also entranced.
“Yeah,” Cordelia replied, feigning annoyance but there was genuine affection in her eyes. “All the time because it takes a lot of energy to keep them up in the air like that. Hey Dennis, if you bruise my fruit you’re buying me new ones - I don’t care if you are a ghost.”
One of the oranges flew over to tap Cordelia gently on the shoulder, and then all three were returned to their proper place.
Ever since the four women had shown up at Cordelia’s door, Dennis had been whisking around them like an excited, invisible puppy. He apparently loved spa days and was beyond stoked to have fresh faces to pamper and entertain. Tara had been a little wary at first about being given a manicure by an unseen attendant, but the truth was that Dennis was incredibly soothing and patient. He’d even massaged her hands before starting, which boggled her mind; how could a person with no physicality give such a good massage?
“Do any of the guys ever join in?” Buffy asked, half joking.
“Gunn does,” Cordelia said, settling into her favourite armchair and holding up a bottle of nail polish for Dennis to take. She raised an eyebrow at Tara and Buffy’s disbelieving laughter. “I’m serious. He’d never admit it, but he’s a sucker for Dennis’ head massages. But Wesley’s been banned from the apartment except for emergencies, and I don’t think Angel is even aware we took the day off, let alone would think to ask what we’re doing.
Tara plucked at the towel wrapped around her hair, but she wasn’t sure if her nails were still wet enough to be damaged. “Here, let me help,” Buffy offered, unwrapping the towel carefully and setting it aside. She took up a brush to run through Tara’s hair.
“Thank you,” Tara said gratefully. “Why was Wesley banned?”
“Because he’s an insensitive jerk who hurt Dennis’ feelings,” Cordelia said. “Dennis was only trying to be helpful, and Wesley was really rude about it.”
“It was really nice of you to invite us over,” Buffy said. “I can’t even remember the last time I could sit down and relax for half an hour.”
“That’s the whole point,” Cordelia said. “We’re all so busy, we have to make a point of treating ourselves every so often. Too bad the others couldn’t make it.”
“Maybe next time, though,” Fred piped up cheerfully.
Buffy finished with Tara’s hair and stretched her legs out, shutting her eyes. She felt calm enough to maybe even fall asleep here; even with Dennis’ hyperactive eagerness to please, the whole afternoon had been nothing but relaxing. Leave it to Cordelia to make sure her friends got the pampering and care they needed. Soft music played from the stereo, lulling her mind into nonthinking, nonfeeling, empty relaxation. Her friends were still chattering in soft voices, but she wasn’t paying attention to what they said, even when Tara and Fred burst into fresh giggles over something Dennis had done.
“Guys, be quiet,” Fred whispered a short time later. “I think Buffy is asleep.”
She could correct them, make some motion that she was still conscious and alert, but why bother when it would be true in about five minutes anyway.