Buffy Anne Summers was not happy. She sat alone at her table in the dance hall, elbow propped on the table and chin resting morosely on the heel of her upturned palm. Dances were usually something that she enjoyed. What eighteen year old girl didn't love a dance? Her parents would buy her a new dress and she would dance until the room spun. She couldn't capture the lighthearted frivolity that she usually found at such engagements, though. Not when she carried such a heavy heart.

Liam Angelus was at the far end of the dance floor, guiding some diminutive brunette through a reel. She tried not to let her face show her distaste but her lips screwed into a frown of their own accord. He had some gumption to trample on her poor heart and then make such a spectacle of himself a mere three days later. Her spirits dampened further as she recalled their last conversation.

"I'm not good for you," he had said, reaching forward and laying a tender hand on her cheek. "You deserve someone much better than me."

"But I love you," she had refuted. She knew that his past was not without its blemishes, but he had reformed. He became a good man, one more than worthy of her love.

"I love you," he had echoed. "And that is why this must end."

He was so self-righteous sometimes that it made her want to slap him, yet at the same time she couldn't deny that it was one of the many things that made her love him. And yet it would be what kept them apart. Sometimes life was cruel.

"Buffy dear," her mother cooed, pulling out the seat beside her and sitting down. "Why aren't you dancing?"

"I don't feel up to it," Buffy answered, her gaze drawn to Liam as he whispered something in the brunette's ear, causing her to laugh loudly. Buffy swore she could hear the minx's raucous laughter even over the music.

Joyce followed her daughter's gaze and frowned. "Don't tell me this is over that Angelus boy."

Buffy ducked her head guiltily. "No, of course not."

"Summers women do not mope over men, Buffy." Joyce laid her hand over her daughter's. "And we do not let them ruin a perfectly good dance. Now, look sprightly. There are lots of other respectable and available men here."

"Mother," Buffy groaned, "can I at least have a week to myself before you put me back on the meat market?"

"Not when we spent a small fortune on that dress," Joyce replied. "Now go and mingle! And do try to look like you're marginally enjoying yourself, dear!"

Her mother's light tone pulled at her irritation but she dutifully rose from the table and made her way over to a small group of girls at the side of the dance floor. She caught a bit of their conversation and felt her cheeks flush as she heard one of them say, "I heard he told her that he wasn't good enough for her. It's pretty pathetic if he had to resort to that to get rid of her!"

"Cordelia," the redhead beside her said carefully, "you know that's all just hearsay. We shouldn't gossip like this."

"Well, regardless, I think it's pretty clear that Liam Angelus is back on the market. And I intend on taking full advantage of that. You know, we were very close before she and her family moved here."

Buffy turned quickly before she had to listen to anything more. Her dress suddenly felt laced too tightly and she stumbled out onto a nearby balcony. The light breeze lifted her curls from her forehead and she leaned against the building with her eyes squeezed shut.

This had to be hell. Standing in a room and watching the man she loved cavort with other women as if she didn't exist – Buffy could imagine nothing worse. She had thought the initial rejection stung but this was something else entirely. It had to end.

"I have to get him back," she murmured, the resolve in her voice comforting her somewhat. She was always a determined girl and found there was little she couldn't achieve when she truly set her sights on a goal. But how could she win him back?

The door beside her burst open suddenly and two partygoers stumbled forward as they laughed raucously. The woman was tucked into his side, glancing back at the unassuming party as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Buffy pressed herself against the wall, wanting very much to disappear.

The girl squeaked when she spotted Buffy and hit her partner's shoulder as she gasped, "William!"

He turned toward Buffy with a lascivious grin and she connected the face to the name. William Pratt. Of all the men who would end up alone on a balcony with a woman, it would be him. She quickly thought to herself that two women would not be much of a surprise either and she quickly skirted back into the party. Behind her she could hear him remark, "Well, I guess she didn't want to join us!"

Buffy rested her hand on her chest, trying to settle her breathing. The balcony's door had closed soundly behind her and she glanced back for a moment and saw the view from the doorway was empty. William and his conquest must have pressed themselves against the wall beside the entrance. She sniffed in distaste. Acting that way in public was absolutely inexcusable.

"Buffy," Joyce said from behind her, taking a hold of her elbow. "You are supposed to be mingling, not moonscaping on balconies by yourself."

"But-"

"Go be social." She steered her daughter back toward the two girls Buffy had overheard talking earlier and Buffy bit back her irritation. This was going to be a long night.

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That night, lying in bed, Buffy was unable to tear her mind away from the balcony. She replayed the scene, remembering it in such vivid detail that she felt she was there again. She remembered William's arms grasping the girl tightly, pressing her against him. She saw the girl's eyes bright with laughter, chest heaving as he buried his nose in the crook of her neck.

She sat up suddenly.

"That's it," she whispered excitedly.

Liam had ended their relationship because he thought she deserved better. He wanted to protect her virtue and reputation. Well, she would show him. She would get herself tangled with such a vile wolf that he'd have to take her back!

Her entire body thrummed with excitement at her plan and she climbed from her bed, settling beside the window. She laid her hands on the ledge and settled her head there, gazing up at the stars.

"I swear by you all that I will get him back," she vowed. "I'll get him back if it's the last thing I do."

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Buffy set her plan into motion the very next afternoon. There was only one man who was vile enough to ensure that Liam took notice. William Pratt was her only option and she believed she had the perfect hook to convince him to help. All morning she had thought through different schemes, but fate interceded in the form of an accidental run-in while she was in town. She was looking at some fabrics with her sister Dawn and their escort when she spotted a familiar mop of sandy blonde hair at the other end of the store. Her instincts told her that this was the exact sort of opportune moment that she needed, but she hesitated for a moment. What if this plan was a bad idea? What if he laughed in her face? Or worse, what if he refused and told Angel? There would be no moving forward from there.

Still, even with the myriad of reasons why he should (and could) refuse her, she had a strong inkling that he wouldn't. It was this that made her casually walk across the shop, settle beside him and ask, "Catering to some pressing fabric needs, Mr. Pratt?"

He turned his head toward her, eyes dipping from her face to her bosom and then back up. She was immediately grateful that she had worn one of her dresses with the more flattering bodices.

"Ms. Summers," he said, tilting his head in greeting.

"Please, call me Buffy. Ms. Summers sounds too much like my mother."

"Buffy, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She pressed the tip of her finger against the puce silk he was looking at and said, "I came to save you from this."

"What? You don't like it?"

"That would be putting it mildly," she answered.

"You're opinionated," he noted, eyeing her appreciatively. "Never would have guessed when you were fawning over that ponce Liam Angelus."

"You know nothing of that," she hissed.

He chuckled. "You're fiery, too. Again, never would have guessed."

Buffy bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from snapping at him again. That wouldn't do. She needed him to find her alluring or attractive. Otherwise the entire plan was a bust. After a calming breath she turned her face up toward his and said, "I have a proposition for you."

"Do you, pet?"

She was about to snap that she didn't appreciate the lascivious tone, but on second thought she saw that it was actually somewhat appropriate. She was propositioning him, after all. She looked around quickly to ensure that no one was within earshot before continuing.

"It's a business transaction of sort. I would like you to pretend to court me. I would pay you handsomely, of course."

"Pay me handsomely, eh?"

She narrowed her eyes. "With cash. This courtship would not be real. It would be for show."

"And who is the intended audience?" he asked, although the playful tone of his voice suggested that he already knew the answer.

"You might have heard the Liam and I parted ways recently."

"I'd heard something of the sort," he answered.

"He told me that he was not a good enough man for me," Buffy said softly. "Before he met me he did his fair share of carousing. It weighs heavily on his conscience." William snorted and she shot him a glare. "But he is a good man! Which I will show him by taking up with the likes of you!"

"The likes of me?" he retorted, eyebrows furrowing together. She hardly noticed, though, too enthralled by the steps of her plan being plainly voiced. They had only existed in her head before and she rather liked how they sounded aloud.

"You carouse twice as much as he ever did," she continued. "And if his argument for ending our union was to spare my reputation, it only follows that upon hearing of my involvement with you he has no other choice but to take me back!"

"Lovely plan, pet," William said dryly, not nearly as impressed as she thought he should be. It was a brilliant plan. Cunning, if she did say so herself. And she did. "The question remains, however, why you think I would be remotely interested?"

"Don't you remember the part where I pay you handsomely?"

"Still not particularly interested."

Buffy blinked repeatedly, praying that somehow she was mishearing. "But-but I will pay you handsomely.

"Yes, you mentioned that."

"And you still don't want to?"

"Despite how I may come off, love, I do have some standards. Remember that lovely part of your plan where I am a philandering beast sure to set your Liam Angelus' jealousy ablaze?" She nodded fervently. Yes, of course she remembered her brilliant plan. "If I were to properly court you there would be no more philandering. And pet, you may light my fancy, but not to that extent."

She bristled at that last part and set her face into a look of cool indifference as she asked, "So, you won't be helping me?"

"No, I'm afraid I will not."

"Fine. Then I will find someone else who will."

"Off to proposition another man at a fabric shoppe, then?" he teased, tongue curling behind his teeth.

She lifted her chin and told him, "I am going to walk away now." She took one step before turning back. He lifted his eyebrows questioningly with his lips pressed into an amused smirk. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay? I think discretion would be best."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She nodded curtly and then returned to her sister who had been watching for the past few minutes with piqued curiosity. When her sister returned to her side Dawn immediately asked, "Who was that you were talking with?"

"An absolutely insufferable man," Buffy answered, frowning. "Anyway, are you finished in here?"

Dawn nodded and they made their way out of the store. They passed William and despite her best intention to pointedly ignore him, she found her eyes meeting his. He dipped his head in farewell and his eyes danced as he said, "Goodbye, Ms. Summers. It was a pleasure talking with you."

She scowled, letting the clap of the door hitting the frame serve as her response.

William Pratt was an awful card player. Cursed with an expressive face, the entire table knew which way his hand leaned before William had a chance to rearrange his features into a placid visage. Of course, they never told him this. William was comically unaware of his shortcomings, blaming the large amounts of money that he lost each week at the table a symptom of bad luck or drink. He had a point about the last part. They regularly plied him with liquor because it made him lay down even more money for his awful hands.

"You in, Pratt?" A man across from him named Marcus asked.

"I'm clean out of cash," William said, turning out the inside of his pocket. "I could do credit."

The men around the table nodded their acceptance excitedly. They very much liked the prospect of William Pratt reaching into the Pratt family's large girth of wealth.

"That's fine," Marcus said. "Provided you follow through with payment. But we don't have to worry about that, do we?"

"Presumptuous, don't you think?" William slurred. "You're already assuming I'll lose."

"Just going off past experience," Marcus answered with a slight grin. "But come on, Pratt, lay your bet. Perhaps your luck will turn."

It didn't.

William left the game with empty pockets and 300 pounds in debt. He swore to bring the money to the next night's game and stumbled out of the gentleman's club and made his way back home. His father was waiting for him when he burst into the Pratt estate.

"Let me guess, son, cards again?"

"Lucky first guess," William retorted.

"No, it's not considering that you are there nearly every night. How much did you lose tonight?"

"Who said I lost anything?"

William's father shook his head. "It's time you grew up, William. I looked the other way with your gallivanting and carousing before. You were young. But you are no longer a boy of 21, William. It is time that you took up your responsibilities."

"I am making business relationships," William drawled.

"I'm cutting you off," his father said in a hard voice. "Until you accept your responsibilities and show that you can do more than gamble and stick your head under women's skirts you will getting no money from this family."

That sobered William remarkably fast. His father turned and walked away, William watching his retreating back with a pinched expression.

Cut off.

He was cut off from all funds when he had an outstanding 300 pound debt. He knew these men, had seen them at their worst, and knew they were not to be crossed. They had the veneer of genteel but underneath they were as cruel as any other man swindled out of money. He had seen what happened to the others who didn't pay their debts.

His mind wandered back to his afternoon run-in with Buffy Summers and his mouth screwed into a frown. She had offered to pay him handsomely. What that exactly entailed, he was unsure, but he was sure he could persuade her to go higher. She was in love with the great poof, after all. He saw the desperation in her eyes as she asked for his help and was moderately sure he could name any price if it meant she was reunited with Liam Angelus.

He also knew Angelus well. It wouldn't take Angelus long to turn around once he learned that his wilting flower was in the clutches of one as lecherous as himself. It would take two weeks—three weeks at the absolute most. And so it was decided.

He would be paying Ms. Summers a visit.

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To say that Buffy was surprised when William Pratt showed up at her home would be an understatement. She was reading in the sitting room when Dawn bound into the room and said, "A carriage is approaching!"

She figured it was some business associate of her father's and couldn't see why this had put her sister into such a dither. When she told Dawn this her sister shook her head quickly and said, "No, we asked father! He isn't expecting anyone!"

That piqued her curiosity. Unannounced visitors were not commonplace at the Summers home and she followed Dawn to the window where both looked expectantly at the approaching carriage.

"I wonder who it is?" Dawn enthused, cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough."

The carriage came to a stop in front of the gravel walkway to their home and Buffy's eyes widened when the door opened to reveal none other than William Pratt.

"That's the man from the fabric shop!" Dawn exclaimed.

"What is he doing here?" Buffy wondered aloud. Had he reconsidered?

"Girls, come to the foyer," Joyce said from behind them, gesturing for them to follow her. "We have a guest."

"Buffy met him when we were in town!" Dawn revealed happily, not noticing the glare that her sister sent her.

"You did, Buffy?" Joyce said. "Well, he could be here to see you!"

"Not necessarily," Buffy said evasively, although any other explanation seemed unlikely.

"Where did you meet him, again?"

Before Buffy could answer Dawn filled her mother on everything that happened at the fabric store. "She went up to him all on her own!"

"Buffy," he mother gasped.

"I met him previously," Buffy said quickly. "At the dance Friday night. I simply went over to say hello."

There was a knock on the door and Dawn quietly trilled, "Oh, that must be him! This is so exciting! We never have visitors like this!"

Buffy rolled her eyes, lips pressed into a firm line. Joyce stepped forward and opened the door, greeting William warmly as she stepped back and ushered him into the house. He glanced toward Buffy and gave her a small grin.

"Hello Buffy," he said. Before she could read too much into his gaze he turned toward Dawn and said, "And you must be Dawn."

Her sister glowed under his attention and gave a quick nod. "Yes, I'm Dawn."

"Pleasure to meet you. Mrs. Summers, your house is beautiful."

"Thank you," Joyce said. "This is you first visit, is it not?"

"Regrettably, yes. I don't get to this part of town frequent enough." He glanced toward Buffy. "Perhaps that is due for a change."

Buffy's stomach dropped.

"May I ask the reason for your visit?" Joyce asked kindly.

"I'm here to see your daughter, actually. We had a wonderful conversation when we ran into each other in town yesterday. I happened to be in the area and thought I would stop by and visit for a bit."

Joyce looked between William and her daughter, sensing something between the two and choosing to capitalize on it before her daughter could make up some excuse to send the boy away. She had a habit of forsaking just about every other man in favor of that daft Liam Angelus.

"Buffy, why don't you show William the gardens? It's a beautiful day and the roses have just begun to bloom."

Buffy nodded reluctantly and William stepped forward and offered her his arm. She hesitated but then thread her arm through his. As they walked out she remarked, "Offering me your arm. Don't you think you're laying it on a bit thick, Mr. Pratt?"

"Not at all. This is how one acts in polite society."

Buffy grinned. "Look at you, considering yourself a part of polite society."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. They exited the house and walked toward the gardens. Both were silent for a stretch of time before Buffy glanced up at him and asked, "So, what are you really doing here?"

"I've thought more about your little proposition," he said.

"You have?"

He nodded. "And I've decided that I'll do it."

Buffy stopped walking, turning toward him with wide eyes. "You will?"

"But, I have two stipulations." She nodded for him to continue. "I want 300 pounds."

Her eyes widened. When she said she would pay him handsomely before she was thinking maybe 100 pounds, 150 at the absolute most. "You're kidding."

"Pet, you cannot put a price on love."

She narrowed her eyes and bit out, "Fine, 300 pounds it is. What's your other stipulation?"

He smiled wide then and she had a feeling she would not like what she heard.

"When we are in public, you are to do everything that I say."

She laughed, unwilling to believe that this man could be serious. It was preposterous. She told him so and he arched one blonde eye brow and said, "Those are my parameters, kitten. Take them or leave them."

"You expect me to let you have free reign of me? I think not!"

He smirked. "I don't plan on violating you in any way. Unless you ask nicely, of course." She glared at him. "I simply mean that there may be times when I know better how to pique your wayward lover's jealousy than you do."

"You think you know better?"

"Experience, love, there is no match to mine."

Her mouth remained closed. She couldn't refute that point.

"Fine," she answered. "I will adhere to your ridiculous stipulations."

William chuckled at her tone and said, "You really are a lively one, Buffy Summers. This could end up being fun."

"I don't care if it's fun or not as long as it ends with Liam crawling back to me on his hands and knees," Buffy remarked, eyes brightening at the mental image. "Oh, this will drive him mad!"

"So, when can I expect my handsome pay, pet?"

"Are you worried I will not pay?" she asked.

"Not at all."

"You will get it when I deem the time appropriate," she said, gauging his reaction. She noticed his jaw tighten and ascertained that he was not pleased with the arrangement.

"I don't think I like that."

"Well, then what do you propose?"

"You have one week to pay me," he answered. The men at the club should allot him a week to fill his debt. "Added stipulation on the stipulation, pet."

"One week?" She worried whether she had enough in her reserves to answer to his demands. "Perhaps you'd reconsider? Two weeks, maybe?"

"The way you're talking it sounds like the handsome payment was bait and nothing else."

"Nonsense," she said, lying through her teeth. "Of course I intended on paying you."

And she had. She just figured in more time to collect said money. Perhaps some would come in the form of weddings gifts when her and Liam made their love official. That could hardly be done in one week.

"Fine, I suppose two weeks couldn't hurt," he said. He would tell the boys that he was waiting for a business deal to go through. None of them had to know that there was no real business to speak of. Who knows, perhaps by then his father would have forgotten all about this silly nonsense of him taking responsibility and replenished his funds.

"Wonderful, so it's settled," Buffy said happily. She patted his arm with as much affection as she could muster. "So, shall we continue our tour of the gardens?"

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The couple returned to the house some time later, cheeks flushed from the stroll around the gardens. Joyce greeted them with a subdued smile, noting the way her daughter was tucked into William's side.

"Did you enjoy our gardens?" she asked.

"The best I've ever seen," William answered. He looked down at Buffy and added, "Thank you for serving as my guide."

"It was no trouble at all," she answered. "We could hardly have you wandering around on your own. The field hands would talk."

William smirked. "Well, it was a pleasure seeing all of you again."

He unthread Buffy's arm from his and relished the way her eyes widened as he dropped a soft kiss to the top of her hand. He could tell that she was using every bit of strength not to rip her hand from his.

"I hope to see you all soon," he said, making his exit as the other two women bid him farewell. Buffy stayed in the back, suspiciously quiet.

"Well, I have to say that he is nothing like I imagined," Joyce said after his departure. "From the stories you hear, you'd think he was an absolute terror! He was so polite. Oh, and so handsome-but that was no surprise! Do you think he'll be visiting here often, sweetheart?"

Buffy thought of the 300 pounds she was now obliged to pay and said, "He better."

Buffy often occupied her spare time with thoughts of what would happen when Liam first saw her with William. She always imagined it at one of the dances held in town. She would walk into the grand hall with her arm threaded through William's and Liam would spot them from the other side of the room. He would be speaking with some trollop and stop mid-sentence when he caught sight of the pair. It would be absolutely marvelous. She found herself looking forward to the next dance even more than usual with the added possibility of a jealous former lover.

However, things rarely went how she planned them. The 300 pounds should have been proof enough of that. Therefore, it was not in some dance hall where Liam first spied her and her latest paramour but instead while the pair were out in town. William had said something particularly niggling and she responded with a quick-albeit covert-jab to his side with her elbow.

"Oi! What was that for?" he snapped.

"That was for continuing to be the most insufferable man I have ever met," she huffed. "You do realize that I am paying you 300 pounds for this. The least you could do is not irritate me the entire time."

"And you think you're such a ray of sunshine?" She held his gaze, lifting her chin in defiance.

"I'm better than you."

"Pft, where do you get off thinking that? You're one of the most insolent and stubborn women I've met."

"I am not!"

He rubbed his side while he added, "And you have exceedingly pointy elbows."

She went to make some smart retort when someone called her name behind them. She froze, recognizing the voice immediately. William did not sense her hesitance and turned around, leaving her staring in the opposite direction as she tried to settle her madly beating heart.

"Liam, how are you?" William asked jovially.

"I'm fine. Uh, Buffy, is that you?"

She wrinkled her nose a bit before turning and offering him a sheepish grin.

"Hello Liam. How-how are you?"

"I believe he settled that question with a 'fine' before, pet," William said, smirking as he watched Buffy attempt to quell her irritation. She had to dig her fingernails into her palm, but she bit back the smart retort. It would do no good for Liam to think that her and William didn't get along, especially after the little exchange he probably overheard.

"Silly me," she said airily. "Well, what brings you to town?"

"I just had some business to attend to," he said off-handedly, eyes darting between Buffy and William. She could see the confusion in his gaze and was absolutely delighted. "And you?"

"Buffy insisted that she needed a new hat," William filled in. "I obliged to avoid any potential bodily harm. There tends to be flying elbows when she doesn't get her way."

"You're taking her shopping?" Liam asked, his tone bordering on incredulous.

"My lady is one who likes to be bought," William answered with a chesire grin. She felt a strong desire to enact that bodily harm he was speaking of earlier.

"Your lady?" The tone was no longer bordering on incredulous, instead fully there as his eyes went wide. He rearranged his features into one more socially appropriate and bit out, "When did this happen?"

"Recently," William said evasively.

"So, you two are engaged?"

"No!" Buffy cut in hastily. She realized the error of her gut-reaction and added, "This is still so new to us. But William is a very kind man." Even she wanted to laugh at that. "He has been nothing but a gentleman."

"Is that so?"

"Well, we need to be off," Buffy said brightly. "Mother will be expecting us home soon. It was wonderful running into you, Liam. I hope to see you again soon."

He nodded his head and then her and William walked away. She took one small glance over her shoulder, a smile spreading on her face when she found Liam watching them retreat with a look of utter bafflement on his face. She turned back around and grasped William's arm excitedly. She leaned in and enthused, "This is going even better than I could have imagined!"

"Is it, pet?"

"Did you see him back there? Even with you on what has to be your worst behavior, he looked positively dumbstruck! This may be easier than I first thought!"

"What do you mean me on my worst behavior?"

She gave him a look and echoed, "My lady likes to be bought?"

"What? You seem like the gift type."

"And your teasing me in front of him?"

"Suggests an easy rapport," William said stoutly. "My actions back there were strategic, pet. And look how they're paying off."

"This weekend is going to be marvelous," she said, thinking of the upcoming dance. She glanced at him and asked, "You are going, right?"

"Of course I am," he answered. "I can't chance someone else whisking you away."

He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, William, I don't know how I'm going to stand you until this is over."

"Oh please, you're enjoying yourself. I'm fantastic company."

"Honestly, I have no idea how you rope all of those women into doing those things with you."

"I'm good looking and charming. What else do I need?"

She thought of him and that woman on the balcony. She couldn't believe what she had seen. How could a woman let herself act so wantonly, and in public no less? What would drive someone to that extreme? Glancing at the man beside her, she realized that she had the unique opportunity of being in the company of who might know the exact answer to that question.

"How do you do it?" she asked him after a moment. "How do you make these women act with such little thought for their reputation or future?"

"You make me sound like some lecherous beast," he mused with a smirk.

"I'm serious, William. How do you do it?"

He was silent for a moment and she wondered what he was thinking. After was felt like an eternity he glanced down at her and asked, "Do you really want to know?" She nodded. "It has nothing to do with me."

"Nothing do you with you?"

He shook his head. "All those women, they're looking for some man to make them feel, make them forget. They're begging for it, practically. It would make no difference if it were me or any other man. It's not about love. It's not even about passion. It's about reckless abandonment. Living in the moment and worrying about nothing else."

"Don't they want more?" she asked. She couldn't imagine living so vicariously through pleasure. She would miss out on so much.

"No, they don't."

She hesitated for a moment before asking, "Don't you?"

Something seemed to flash in his eyes for a moment, a vulnerability that she hadn't seen before, but it was gone before she could comment. His trademark smirk was back in place when he retorted, "Pet, some people just aren't made for more. I'm not built for it."

She found something indescribably sad about that.

"You and your Angelus boy, on the other hand, reek of the needing more type," he said.

She smiled slightly, fingers brushing against the sleeve of his jacket. He really was being nice to her, despite her knobby elbows and smart retorts. She glanced toward him hesitantly and said, "William?"

"Yes, pet?"

"I'm sorry for elbowing you before."

He smirked and retorted softly, "No you're not. But thanks for saying it, anyway."

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William went to cards that night for the uncomfortable task of telling the men that he would be putting off paying them for another week. The room was dimly lit, air heavy with the smell of whiskey and cigars. Five men sat around the table, already into a hand of poker.

"Pratt!" a man named Connor called out gruffly. "I see you've decided to grace us with your presence!"

"Sorry I've been absent lately," he said, standing by his usual seat. He didn't sit down as he didn't plan on staying. He couldn't afford to add more to his debt.

"What have you been up to?"

"I've had some other things to attend to," he said off-handedly.

"We've heard," one of the men, Gregory, said. "Courting Buffy Summers, are you? Last I heard she was trying to drag that Liam Angelus to the alter. Terrible fellow, considers himself above cards."

"Ponce," William muttered. "Anyway, I'm not here to play tonight. I just want to let you know that I will bring the 300 pounds to next Saturday's game. It should add a hefty amount to the pot, no?"

"Why don't you settle it now?" Connor asked

William felt his stomach lurch. "I have to sort out a few things first. You will get it next week, though."

Connor shrugged and said, "Next week is fine. We know you'll come through, Pratt. Besides, you know what happens to people who don't pay. You want to sit in for a hand?"

"No, I don't have any money with me."

"We'll cover you for the first hand. What are friends for, after all?"

He hesitated but then took his seat. The man to his right dealt him his hand and he glanced down at his cards. He couldn't believe it. He was holding a royal flush.

"Alright, Pratt, what are you betting?"

He saw that he had a chance to perhaps win back enough to pay off at least part of the debt and then he could pocket the left over sum from his deal with Buffy. He usually played cards with instinct, which admittedly never turned out well, so he decided to appeal to strategy instead. The boys would know he had a good hand if he bet too highly. He'd rather start of low and lull them into thinking his hand was just subpar.

"Fifteen pounds," he said.

"I'll raise you five," Gregory said, pushing chips toward the center of the table. William didn't hesitate before matching the bet and raising it another ten. He did have a good hand, after all.

"Ambitious," Gregory noted.

"I'm just getting warmed up."

The betting continued and William could tell that Gregory had a good hand. It wasn't a sure deal, though, because he could see the perspiration building at the man's hairline. There was a hefty pile of chips in the center of the table when it was time to show the cards.

"Straight, king high," Gregory said with a bravado that didn't match his eyes. William raised his eye brows and then revealed his cards, staying silent as the men leaned forward to study his hand.

"I'll be damned," one of them muttered, finishing it off with a low whistle. "Pratt won."

"Well boys, if you wouldn't mind paying up," William said. The men grumbled unhappily as they shifted in their chairs and pushed wads of money toward him. He counted it while they watched, ecstatic to find himself in the possession of over 100 pounds.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," he said with a wide grin. "Thanks for pulling me in for a hand. Best decision I've made all week."

He sauntered out of the room, fully aware of the five men glaring behind him.

Chapter Four

The days leading up to the dance were absolute punishment for Buffy. Each day felt like an eternity and she half expected to see wrinkles and gray hairs as she readied herself for the festivities. The night had finally arrived, though, and she stood at the front of the dance hall with her sister, mother and father, nearly tittering with excitement.

Tonight the plan would truly be put to action. Dances were like a civilized watering hole in Brighton and her and William would give them something to talk about.

"Oh, this is so exciting!" Dawn trilled beside her. Buffy couldn't help but laugh at the look of absolute joy on her young sister's face. Their parents had just recently let her begin to accompany them to the dances and Dawn acted as if an entire magical world had been revealed.

"Careful with all that exuberant smiling," Buffy ribbed gently. "You don't want to overexert yourself before you even dance one reel."

"Can I dance, Mother?" Dawn asked with an even wider grin. "I've been practicing in my room. I know all the steps!"

Joyce patted her daughter's arm affectionately and said, "Go have fun, Dawn."

"You want to come, too, Buffy?"

She shook her head as she spotted William across the dance hall speaking to some woman with her corset pulled so tightly that she wondered how the woman breathed. He seemed to be flirting, or maybe that was just his usual face. Either way, she would make her presence known.

"Excuse me," she said.

"Where are you going?"

"I see something that needs my attention," she said evasively. Joyce followed her gaze and grinned knowingly.

"Do you mean someone, dear?"

Buffy grinned slightly in response and then made her way across the hall to William. The woman was midsentence, prattling on about some insignificant thing, when Buffy joined them.

"Ms. Summers," William said, interrupting the other woman. She noticed the woman's eyes darken at her arrival. "You look stunning, as always."

"Can I steal you away for a moment?" she asked sweetly. She glanced at the woman and said, "You don't mind, do you?"

"Actually-"

"It was a pleasure meeting you," William interjected smoothly. He offered his arm to Buffy and she pressed herself to his side, allowing him to lead her to the side of the hall. She wasn't going to bring up the other woman but when something was on her mind she rarely could keep quiet.

"So, should I worry about that other woman?"

"Jealous, pet?"

"Hardly," she answered airily. "It's just that we had a deal and if I am to uphold my end up the bargain, then you should, as well."

He smirked and said, "Don't worry, I'm a one woman man now. It's not proper to let more than one pay you for your affections. People tend to look poorly on that."

She rolled her eyes and retorted, "Yes, I suppose they would."

"So, where is the illustrious Liam Angelus?" William asked. "I don't see him and his awful hair anywhere."

She pinched his arm through his sleeve and he pulled away quickly, affronted by her action.

"What was that for?"

"You shouldn't speak of him that way," she shot back. "I'm adding another stipulation to the exhaustive list you already compiled. You must only speak well of Liam."

William snorted. "Not a chance, pet. There aren't enough pounds in all of England to make me only speak well of that ponce. I know you love him and I will follow through with my end of all of this, but I fully intend on getting in my fair share of verbal jabs."

She considered pushing further but he didn't look like he would budge. Relenting with a frown she thread her arm through his again and said, "Fine, you can speak of him however you like. We'd better stop quarreling. People will talk."

"You physically assaulting me in public probably has already done that."

"Well, if you would keep your gab shut I wouldn't have to. Anyway, what should we do now?"

"My usual activities are probably not anything that you would approve of, so I think it's up to you."

She bit back a grin and replied, "That's right, you'd be finding your latest victim right about now."

"They're hardly victims," William scoffed. "They enjoy themselves immensely. Ask any of them."

She slanted her eyes up toward him and asked, "What would you be doing right now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say I was your conquest," she proposed. "How would you woo me?"

"You want me to woo you, love? I don't think this is part of the deal."

She rolled her eyes. "Not actually woo me. I want you to show me how you would woo me."

"And you want me to do this why?"

She shrugged. "I'm bored. And it's interesting. Besides, when else will I be able have a Casanova like yourself at my beck and call?"

"I'm hardly at your beck and call."

"William, get on with the wooing."

"Alright, pet, you really want to see how it's done?" She nodded her head and he warned, "Don't blame me if after all this your dear Liam looks like a mealy mouthed school boy."

"I'm not worried," she responded off-handedly. "Now, woo me damn it."

She watched with curiosity as the grin from her last comment slowly melted into a lax, flirtatious smirk.

"Alright, love, I'll show you. There's no one stock thing that I do with women," he began. "It's a variety of little things that work remarkably well when used in tandem."

She raised an eye brow in a fashion that clearly said that she thought he was full of fooey and he told her, "Don't worry, pet, I'm not finished."

"Go on, then."

"First, it's touch," he said, slowly running the tip of his finger down her forearm. "It's the lightest touch of a fingertip. A hand on the small of the back. A brushing of the waist."

"Oh please," she scoffed.

"It's something that promises much more..." Her stomach pulled uncomfortably when his hand grazed her waist. "...done in plain sight."

"So, you tease them with touch," she said. "I'm left unimpressed."

"Well, then let me continue."

He leaned in close, lips nearly brushing her ear. His breath was hot on her neck as he said, "It's getting close enough where they can feel their own heart beat quickening, feel the desire pooling between their legs. It's letting them know just how much and how well you can whet that desire. Letting them know that you can fulfill every fantasy, every delicious whim that makes them quiver in anticipation. Anything and everything is possible." He pulled away, smirking at how her eyes had become wide like saucers. "And then you go on and do very naughty things."

It took Buffy a second to collect herself, but when she did she haughtily replied, "It wouldn't work on me."

"Well, of course not," he said with a grin. "Because you are of the wanting-more-variety. Admit it, though, you felt some of it."

"Felt some of what?"

"Excitement. Arousal."

"I did not," she held, although there was a distinct ache between her legs that she hadn't felt since Liam.

"Sure, pet, whatever you say." He seemed to be distracted by something over her shoulder and before she could turn to see exactly what it was he was pulling her toward the dance floor.

"What did you see?" she asked, turning her head as William put an arm around her waist. She took his hand without thinking and her eyes went wide when she saw Liam speaking with a few gentleman at the front of the dance hall.

"William, he's here! Shouldn't we be talking to him or something?"

"This is one of those instances where you do what I tell you," William said. "Trust me, pet, this will get the job done more effectively than dangling ourselves in front of him. Plus, it's more fun."

"Will we talk to him after?"

"Yes, yes, now will you just enjoy yourself for a bit? Your Liam will still be there when the dance is over."

"Fine," she sighed. "But I hardly think I will enjoy myself."

Despite her words, she did find herself enchanted by the dance. He was a fine dancer, light on his feet and with a good sense of rhythm. It was astounding how many men had absolutely zero rhythm, making dancing with them an absolute terror. One of her persistent suitors before Liam was an awful dancer and she always dreaded the times where she would have to muddle through a song with him.

She kept her eye on Liam whenever she could throughout the dance and became increasingly disgruntled by his apparent lack of regard. William didn't seem to mind that the other man's attention was elsewhere. In fact, he seemed to just be enjoying the dance.

"He's not even looking," she complained.

"He will."

"And you're so sure of this why?"

She expected some sort of bravado in answer, but his reply surprised her.

"Because when you love someone you always sense where they are in a room. You don't even mean to but your eyes are drawn to them. Given time, he will notice."

She looked at him curiously and noted, "Sounds like you speak from experience."

"Love is a disease to which no man is immune," he said bitterly. "I am just of the lucky few who recover quickly and learn their lesson."

"Who was she?"

"That, love, is a story that no amount of money or liquor could make me tell you."

"But-"

"Your Liam has finally found us," he said, effectively ending her line of questioning. She went to twist around but he tightened his grip, pulling her closer as he said, "Now, let's not do that, dear. Looking overly eager will only muck things up."

She noticed then that her body was nearly flush against his and she tried to pull away slightly but he continued to hold her close. She purposely stepped on his foot and his grip loosened as he stumbled. Grinning saccharinely she told him, "Sorry about that, dear."

"You know, sometimes I think Liam dodged a bullet with you. Pity that I'm sending it right back in his direction."

"Oh, shut up."

The song continued, Buffy trying to capture any little sight of Liam while William whisked her around the floor. The song ended and William led her from the dance floor. She thought for one glorious moment that they were finally going to speak to Liam, but he instead brought her out to the balcony which set her in an understandable panic. She had seen firsthand the sorts of things William Pratt enjoyed doing on balconies.

"We can't be out here!" she said as he closed the door. "You're supposed to be properly courting me! Not whisking me onto balconies! Oh, what will he think if he sees us out here?"

"No 'if', love, 'when."

"We have to go back inside," she implored, already turning when he took a hold of her arm and pulled her beside him.

"Buffy, would you calm down? We're right in front of the door in plain view. No one is going to suspect anything other than we wanted a moment alone."

She didn't believe him and glanced back at the door to see for herself. Sure enough, he was right. She turned back to him and sheepishly said, "I suppose you're right."

"Overreact much, pet?"

"I just want this to work," she said. "I need this to work."

Something in her tone was absolutely heartbreaking and he gingerly laid a hand over hers, waiting to see if she would pull away. She didn't.

"I'm a man of my word, Buffy, and I said I would help you get him back. You will."

Her spirits seemed to have been bolstered slightly as she replied, "You better, otherwise you owe me 300 pounds."

He grinned slightly. "Alright, I'm going to do something now and you have to promise to behave."

"Alright, I'll behave."

Her breath hitched when he leaned in and brushed his lips against her cheek, lingering for just a moment before pulling back and giving her a little wink. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself with a puzzling lack of words.

"Now, you stay out here," he said, backing away.

She turned around and asked, "Where are you going?"

"Inside," he said. "But don't fret, my dear, you'll have company in no time."

He opened the door and slipped inside the dance hall. Left alone, Buffy turned back toward the balcony and stared into the darkness. Moments later she heard the door open and she turned, fully prepared with a retort about how he came back so soon, but she bit her tongue when she found Liam standing before her.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"No, of course not," she said. He stepped forward and took the spot beside her, resting his arms on the railing beside hers. He was very close, only an inch to the side from either would make their bodies touch.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, quite."

"So, tell me, are you honestly involved with William Pratt?"

It was a rather direct approach coming from Liam, which surprised her. He was always one to dance around uncomfortable conversation rather than focus on it. Yet, here he was cutting straight to the chase.

"Yes," she said. "We are involved."

"I don't understand it. You must know of his reputation."

"He cares for me and I him. What else is there to consider?"

"Your virtue, for one," Liam said. "And his lack, I suppose. It's just…"

"It's what?"

He was silent for a long stretch before he softly replied, "I believe you deserve better. A man of his character, well, he has no business with someone of your stature."

"Yes, his character may have been questionable before," she conceded. "I can't say I enjoy the fact that his knowledge of women is…vast. He has changed, though. He is a gentleman with me, Liam."

"I find it hard to believe he is capable of that."

"He is," Buffy said firmly.

"And you're happy?"

She wanted to tell him that she wasn't. She wanted to tell him that she missed him more with each passing day and that he should just come to his senses already and realize that her world would never truly be a happy one without him in it. But that wasn't part of the plan. Instead of telling the truth, she nodded her head and told him that yes, she was happy. William was everything she could have hoped for.

"Well, then I'm happy for you," he said, although his eyes did not match the sentiment. "I should probably head back inside."

"Me too," she said, pulling herself away from the railing. He gestured for her to go first and they moved back into the hall, together but separate.

William sat with his mother and father at the dining room table, listening to his father prattle on about some business venture as he sipped his coffee. Every morning the family had breakfast together and it was the most absolutely tedious hour. William was half tempted to get married himself just so he could be released from the hour of monotony.

"So, William, that Buffy Summers that we met this weekend was a delight."

He had introduced Buffy to his parents at the dance after she returned from her little stay with Liam on the balcony. He had hoped he could avoid it for as long as possible but his mother had been watching them dance and insisted that she meet the young woman.

"Yes, she is," William answered steadily.

"She's a fine woman from a fine family," his father said. He peered at him over his coffee cup and remarked, "Seems you took our prior conversation to heart, son. I'm glad to see it."

"I've heard that their home is beautiful," his mother said.

"It is," William answered.

His mother looked astonished as she asked, "You've been there? When?"

"Last week I paid the family a visit."

"You were there last week?" his mother gasped and he began to wonder if his mother's hearing was going. Hadn't he just said he was there the past week? "William, why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't think you would mind," he said. Why was his mother causing such a fuss? He thought visiting the Summers was just about one of the most socially acceptable things he'd done this past month. He'd hate to see his mother's expression upon hearing of some of the others.

"I don't mind that you visited them; what I mind is not being told! Do you know nothing of social graces, William?"

Apparently not, he thought.

"If they entertained you at their home then we must respond in like. Am I not right, Mr. Pratt?"

"Indeed you are," his father intoned.

"You must send the Summers a note inviting Buffy to our home. Hopefully we haven't waited too long to avoid scandal!"

William's thoughts drifted to Buffy's comment on him not belonging in polite society. Taking in what just transpired at the breakfast table, he couldn't help but think she was right. Polite society made absolutely no sense to him.

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Usually Buffy rather enjoyed her time in the town's various markets, but today all she wanted was to be home in her bed with the curtains closed. What had begun as a mild headache developed into searing pain behind her eyes and Dawn, ignorant to Buffy's plight, was rambling on about the dance and how it had been the most exhilarating night of her life.

"Wasn't it just the most spectacular evening?" Dawn enthused. "All the dancing and beautiful gowns! Did you see Cordelia Chase's gown? It was the most beautiful dress I have ever seen!"

"I tend to avoid noticing Cordelia Chase," Buffy said in a tight voice. "Doing otherwise rarely ends well."

"And you got to spend the entire evening with William Pratt," Dawn gushed. "I think he's the most handsome man I've ever seen."

Buffy smiled a bit at her sister's obvious crush. She had noticed it since he first visited their home, oozing charm and charisma.

"He's a bit old for you, Dawnie."

"Does he have any younger brothers?" she asked hopefully.

"Not that I know of, but I'll ask," Buffy said, giving Dawn an indulgent pat on her arm. "Are you almost finished here?"

"Can we get some taffy?" Dawn asked, using the softer tone that always made Buffy cave. Keeping tradition, Buffy nodded her head and said, "Sure, Dawnie, we'll get the taffy. Then we're heading home, though. It's a long walk back home."

They should have taken the carriage but Buffy thought some fresh air might help her headache. That was what everyone said, anyway. Fresh air was the catch-all-cure for just about anything. Feeling down? Catch some fresh air! Have aches and pains? Some fresh air should do the trick! The next time anyone told Buffy to catch some fresh air in response to some ailment she was going to tell them to catch something else.

Her and Dawn entered the general store where the best taffy was sold and she watched as Dawn pointed out how much she wanted to the man at the counter. The store was warm, unseasonably so, and she flapped her hand in front of her face in an attempt to cool off. It was rather ineffective and only served to tire her arm. She could feel beads of perspiration rise at her hairline and her petticoat almost felt damp against her skin.

She held onto a shelf beside her as pain snapped in her temple, setting her teeth on edge. Her vision was blurred and she blinked rapidly, feeling herself lean heavily to the side as a soft moan fell from her lips. She heard Dawn call her name and then everything went dark.

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The first thing she saw when she came to was the face of William Pratt and as she blinked slowly she murmured, "What happened?"

His face was pinched with worry. "You fainted."

"I-I fainted?" She went to sit up but her head felt much too heavy and she sank back down. She noticed then that someone was grasping her hand tightly and she turned her head to see Dawn beside her looking absolutely stricken.

"Buffy, you gave us all such a fright!" Dawn breathed out, squeezing her hand. "But you're alright now, aren't you?" She glanced at William with wide eyes. "She's alright?"

"Why don't we let big sis tell us," he said gently. "Buffy, love, do you think you can stand?"

"I will try," Buffy said, pushing herself up into a seated position. Her head still felt as if it were too heavy for her neck, but William slipped his arm around her waist and she felt that with his support she could, indeed, stand.

"Easy now," William murmured, arm tightly wound around her waist. "Let's go slow."

With his help she stood, but her legs were too weak to support her, and she slumped against him heavily. Her stomach churned and for one horrifying moment she thought she was going to be sick in the middle of the store.

"Where is your carriage?" William asked Dawn.

"We don't have one. We walked here."

"You walked here all the way from your home?" William asked in disbelief to which Dawn nodded timidly. "Bloody ridiculous."

Buffy might have been about ready to upchuck but she had enough vigor to reply, "We are more than capable of walking a few miles, William. And you should…" she trailed off as she clamped a hand to her mouth, turning to the side as she was convinced that the floor was to be tainted by the content of her stomach. Again, she was mercifully mistaken.

"Well, you aren't now," he said. "Come on, I'll take you to my carriage. Dawn, come on your sister's other side and help me with her."

With the two of them, they were able to successfully get Buffy to the carriage. William lifted her into the seat and sat beside her, Dawn sliding in on the other end. He told the driver to head toward the other side of town and she went to protest when William told her, "My home is closer and you are in no state to be in a jostling carriage for longer than you have to."

"But-"

"Not buts," William said firmly. "You are coming home with me. And lil bit, you're along for the ride, too."

Buffy considered fighting him but decided that she didn't have the strength. Instead she leaned her head back against the seat and willed the nausea to pass. Dawn seemed to have renewed vigor at the prospect of spending an extended amount of time at the Pratt home and began to thank him profusely.

"It's no problem. Besides, Buffy, my mother was just going on at breakfast about how I must invite you over for a visit. I bet even she couldn't have forseen my working so quickly." Buffy only squeezed her eyes shut in response and he asked, "You alright over there?"

"I feel like I'm dying."

"Now, I'm sure it's nothing that serious, pet."

"No, I'm dying," she blathered on, unable to control her tongue as pain dulled her senses. "I'm going to die before I even have a chance to win Liam back."

Delirious Buffy was apparently not against airing their plan in front of Dawn, but he had a feeling that regular Buffy would mind. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Buffy, love, I know you're in there somewhere. Pipe down, yeah?"

"He'll never love me again," she cried softly. "Even after I dangle-"

She was cut off by a twisting of her stomach and she leaned forward suddenly and emptied her stomach between her feet. William exhaled sharply and muttered, "Well, that's one way to keep her quiet."

"Buffy!" Dawn cried out.

The elder Summers began to sob softly in both discomfort and embarrassment. William reached over and took her hand in his, rubbing her palm soothingly with his thumb, he leaned in close again and murmured, "It's alright, Buffy. We're almost there."

"I-I'm sorry," she said, hiccupping slightly.

"Nothing that a little soap and water won't fix," he told her softly. "Now, you just hang in there. A few minutes and you'll be in a nice bed sleeping this off."

The carriage pulled in front of the Pratt home and William told Dawn to get out first and then help him get Buffy out of the carriage. Together they successfully got her on solid ground and they made their way up the walkway to the house. His father found them first and murmured, "What in the world?"

"Buffy fell ill in town," William explained. "It was too far of a distance to take her home."

"My goodness!" his mother exclaimed, taking in the sight of the clearly disheveled young lady, her cheeks drained of color. "Take her upstairs immediately! I will have the kitchen staff put on some tea for her."

They brought Buffy to the spare bedroom and Mrs. Pratt shooed the boys away as she said, "We have to change her out of these clothes. Go tell the housemaid to fetch us a clean nightgown."

Dawn and Mrs. Pratt rid Buffy of the soiled gown, Mrs. Pratt shaking her head all the while as she murmured, "Poor thing."

The housemaid timidly entered the room and offered the nightgown. Mrs. Pratt pulled it over Buffy's head and then helped her into the bed.

"You rest now, dear," she said gently. "Don't you worry about a thing. We will get you better in no time."

Buffy nodded weakly, her eyelids already pulling closed.

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William stood outside of the guest room, unsure of whether to go inside. He wanted to check on her but didn't want to disturb her if she were asleep. He gingerly opened the door, praying that it wouldn't creak, and glanced inside. She was asleep, blonde hair fanned out like a halo around her head. He moved forward slowly, careful not to make too much noise. Crouching beside the bed, he took a hold of her hand.

He had been terrified when he had first seen her on the floor of that store. He had been outside when he noticed commotion inside. Never one to pass up excitement, he wandered over to take a look at what exactly was causing such a rumpus. His heart felt as if it would burst from his chest when he saw that it was her.

He reached forward and pushed a lock of hair from her face. Her skin was hot beneath his fingers and he furrowed his brow in worry. He laid the back of his hand on her forehead and frowned. Carefully he rose from his position and left the room, walking downstairs to where his parents were.

"We need to call a doctor," William told them. "She's burning up."

"Are you sure?" William nodded. "Alright, we'll call Dr. Fitzwilliam right away."

"Poor thing," his mother noted quietly. "I'll go have the housemaid fetch some wet rags to cool her down."

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William waited anxiously while Dr. Fitzwilliam was in the room with Buffy. It seemed to take the doctor forever to ascertain what was exactly wrong, but then the door opened and he walked out, snapping his medical bag closed. Mrs. Pratt stepped forward and asked, "Doctor?"

"She has a severe case of the flu," he said. "She cannot be moved for at least a few days."

"That's fine," Mrs. Pratt said decisively. "She will stay here as long as she needs."

"Continue applying the wet rags to bring down her fever and make sure she drinks enough."

"We will. Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate your help."

He nodded and quietly made his exit.

For the past two days Buffy had been at the Pratt home and she was anxiously awaiting the doctor's clearance for her to go home. It wasn't that she wasn't being treated well. The entire wait staff and the Pratt family had been nothing but courteous. She had meals brought to the guest room at regular intervals and there was a bell put besides the bed that she could ring whenever she found herself in want of something. It wasn't home, though, and she yearned for the ease that being at a place of your own brought. Still, she was making do.

"Your turn," William said, smiling at her over the checkerboard. She had gathered enough strength to leave the bedroom and was seated in the living room, a heavy blanket thrown over her lap to ward off chills. She peered at the board, trying to piece out what the best move would be. "Having a bit of trouble over there, love?" he taunted lightly.

"Oh hush," she said. "I need to think."

"I already see your best move," he said, leaning back in his seat.

"I've been confined to a bed for 48 hours. It might take me a little longer, okay?"

He smirked. "Alright, sorry love, take your time."

She deliberated for another moment before moving her piece. He clicked his tongue before reaching forward and easily claiming two of her pieces.

"Are you usually this awful or is it the fever?"

"William!" Mrs. Pratt admonished him from the couch, closing her book on her lap. "Is that any way to speak to a lady?"

"I'm just teasing, Mother," William said, giving Buffy a look that made her suppress a giggle.

"Buffy, dear, please excuse my son and his deplorable manners. We tried to raise him well but he seems allergic to acting in any manner that could be mistaken for gentlemanly."

"It's fine," Buffy answered pleasantly. "And, might I add, your son was nothing but a gentleman in town. I don't know what I would have done without him."

"You flatter me," William said, laying a hand on his chest. "Besides, I couldn't have left you on that floor. You didn't match the décor."

Buffy scrunched her nose at him before returning her attention to the board. She took less time to ascertain her move this time and William said, "Gaining confidence, are we?"

"I'm playing by instinct."

He smirked and moved his piece, realizing a moment too late the error of his play. He watched her carefully, wondering if she would pick on his misplay. She felt his gaze and innocently asked, "What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. Too quickly. She glanced at the board and grinned wide when she saw the move that would take four of his pieces. She purposely reached toward a different piece, shifting her gaze toward him as her fingers hovered over the piece.

"No," she murmured. "I don't think I'll do that."

He shot her a bemused look as she did the same thing over another piece. Typically such behavior would have irritated him but he couldn't help but be happy at her recovered spirits. Still, he couldn't be too soft; this was a competition, after all.

"Buffy, just make the blasted move already. I'm growing a beard over here."

"What move?" she asked innocently. "Oh, you mean this one?" She picked up the piece and maneuvered it over his four black pieces. "Your turn, Pratt."

They played for another hour or so, bantering over moves. All the while Mrs. Pratt watched from the couch, smiling contentedly at the two of them. She liked this Buffy Summers. There was a marked difference in her William when he was around the young woman. He softened and showed the sort of behavior that she always knew he was capable of.

"Buffy, dear, you'd better rest if you are to go home tomorrow," she said.

"My mother is right," William said. "I can beat you at checkers again later today after you rest."

"You're forgetting that I won that last game," Buffy said.

"Yes, but I won the other five," he said, taking the blanket from her lap as she rose from her seat. He took her elbow and although she felt steady enough on her own, she didn't remove his hand.

"Thank you for letting me stay here these past few days," she told him as they walked up the stairs. "You and your family have been too kind."

"It's no trouble."

"I suppose this wasn't what you were expecting when you agreed to help me," she said. "I suppose I'll have to add to the 300 pounds."

Her tone was light, but his was anything but when he looked over at her and said, "Buffy, my helping you here has nothing to do with our deal. Believe it or not, I have come to care for you in our time together. And I prefer that the people I care about do not suffer."

"I was only joking," she said softly. He didn't say anything and she tentatively asked, "You care about me?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," he replied gruffly, softening it with a grin. "I simply meant that I enjoy your company. You're quite a woman, Buffy Summers, even with your horrid taste in men."

She smirked. "William, would I be presumptuous to suggest that we are becoming friends?"

He helped her into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. "No you would not, pet." He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "Now rest, Summers. I don't want my newly acquired friend dying on me."

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Joyce and Dawn rode up to the Pratt home the next day to take Buffy home. She was gathering her things up in the guest room when she heard of their arrival. William poked his head in the room and said, "Our mothers are getting on wonderfully. They're going to start planning our engagement soon if you don't get downstairs soon."

"My mother and I have already started. It's going to be a June wedding with a pink color scheme." She laughed at the look on his face and patted his shoulder as she breezed past him. "Breathe, William, it was only a joke."

"Not a particularly funny one," he said, following her down the stairs. Joyce was at the foot of the staircase and visibly relaxed when she saw her daughter in good health. When Buffy reached the landing Joyce pulled her into a tight embrace.

"We were all so worried," Joyce said. She pulled away, taking a hold of Buffy's arms to take a good look at her. "When Dawn arrived in the Pratt's carriage and told us what had happened in town I hardly knew what to do with myself. I wanted to come straight here but your father told me that I would only be in the way. Are you feeling much better?"

"Tip top shape," Buffy answered. "Really, Mother, I'm fine. The Pratts and Dr. Fitzwilliam took very good care of me."

Joyce pulled Buffy in again and kissed her forehead. Turning back to the other company in the room she said, "Thank you again for everything that you did. We are forever in your debt."

"Nonsense, we were more than happy to help. Buffy is an absolute dear."

"Well, we'll be on our way and not impose on you any longer. Thank you again."

"Take care," Mrs. Pratt said, stepping forward and pulling Buffy into a gentle embrace. "And you, dear, look after yourself. I'd hate to think what would happen to my poor William if anything happened to you again. You should have seen him, dear. He was an absolute wreck!"

"I'll walk you out," William interrupted, clearing his throat. Buffy smirked and took his offered arm. She leaned in and whispered, "You were a wreck, huh?"

"My mother likes to embellish," he answered. "But I was worried."

"Well, you played a phenomenal nursemaid," she teased. "I would recommend you to anyone."

"Why thank you," he answered in like.

They stopped at the carriage and he helped her up onto the seat. He assisted Joyce and Dawn, too, then closed the door. While they drove away Buffy turned and glanced out the back window. William had already made his way back into the house.

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Later that day the Summers received a visitor. Buffy glanced up from her reading and was surprised to see Liam Angelus standing at the entrance of the sitting room. She closed her book and went to stand when Liam stopped her.

"No, please, stay seated."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I heard about what happened in town. I presume you're feeling better?"

"Much, thank you."

"I heard you recuperated at the Pratt's?"

Buffy smiled slightly and remarked, "You hear a lot, Liam."

He smiled sheepishly. "I suppose one does when you ask the right questions.

I was very, well, curious when I first heard about you taking ill."

"I did recuperate at the Pratt's," she answered. "They were very kind to me."

He gestured toward the seat beside her and she nodded, tucking her chin to her chest when he sat beside her. When she gathered the courage she turned her gaze toward him and saw that he looked just as uncomfortable as she felt.

"Liam?"

"I wanted to talk with you about the dance last weekend," Liam said. "I'm afraid that I acted in an inappropriate manner. My behavior when we were out on the balcony…I shouldn't have said the things that I did and I apologize for that."

"There is no need for you to apologize," Buffy said. "You spoke from your heart. Everyone should be allowed that."

He paused for a moment and then asked, "And you spoke from yours?"

She averted her eyes. "Yes, of course I did."

"Regardless, I should not have been quite so forthcoming."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Liam studied his shoes as Buffy read and re-read the title of her book.

"Fainting in the middle of a store," Liam said after a moment. "You always did like to make a scene."

She laughed softly, turning her head toward him again. "Yes, I suppose that is true."

"Well, I should be going," he said, tapping his legs in a decisive manner before rising. "I am glad to see that you are doing well."

"Thank you for your visit."

He gave her a quick nod and then left. She heard the front door close and then Dawn scurried into the room with a frantic line of questioning.

"What was he doing here?"

"He wanted to see how I was doing," Buffy said, noticing the way that Dawn's eyes flashed.

"He has no right! He pushed you to the side and now you've found William who is twice the man he'll ever be! He isn't fit to wipe William's boots!"

Buffy smirked. "Dawnie, he was simply here to see how I was faring after my little episode in the town. He was nothing but polite."

Dawn was somewhat placated by that, but not enough. "I still don't like him."

Buffy laughed softly. "Alright."