~Chapter Six: Preparing~

Buffy sat in the center of her bed, the sheets bunched loosely around her waist. The sun was streaming in through the French windows, softly illuminating the golden room. She was supposed to be getting ready. Today was her wedding day after all, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

Glancing up at the mirror across from her, she studied her reflection. Bleary, red-rimmed eyes stared back at her from sunken eye sockets. Her face was pale, her long blonde hair ratty and tangled, and her nearly white lips were trembling. She looked a mess, and she felt even worse.

The talk with Liam last night had been unnerving. Buffy had come to bed furious with a pounding headache. She had spent most of the night trying to decipher the meaning of her feelings, hence why she looked like the living dead this morning.

She had known William’s reasons for marrying her were far from ideal, but actually *hearing* them had made her feel angry and even slightly hurt. Of course, there really wasn’t a reason for her to be either of those things. After all, she didn’t love him, and it wasn’t as if she was marrying him for her own reasons. They had both been thrown into this situation unwillingly, and neither of them was happy about the arrangements. So why did she feel like this? Why did she care that she was only an obstacle to him?

“Buffy?” Willow’s voice called from out in the hall. Cautiously, the redhead opened the door and peered inside.

“I can’t do this, Will,” Buffy groaned, flopping back onto the pillows.

Willow stepped inside and shut the door behind her, regarding her friend with concern. “What happened? You look like someone just killed your puppy.”

Buffy frowned. “I don’t have a puppy.”

Waving a dismissive hand, Willow sat down beside the blonde. “I meant you look horrible.”

“Thanks a lot,” Buffy replied sarcastically.

“Oh, no, that’s-that’s not what I meant,” the redhead tried to amend, a blush staining her cheeks as red as her hair. “I just meant that y-you look...um...tired?”

Rolling her eyes at her friend’s desperate attempt to be non-insulting, Buffy sat up. “You’re right. I do look horrible.”

“Well, only a little,” Willow joked. “But we can fix that!”

“We can?”

Willow gave her a brilliant smile. “Darn tootin’! I mean, it is my job, you know.”

The blonde forced a smile. “Right. So what do we have to do?”

“First, I think we should start with some breakfast. You look hungry.”

Buffy’s eyes lit up at the mention of food. “I’m starving,” she admitted, and her stomach growled to accentuate her statement.

Giggling, Willow headed toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

After she had gone, Buffy’s thoughts turned once again to her conversation with Liam. She wondered if her mother knew about the arrangement William and his father had made.

‘Rebecca had to have known,’ she thought. ‘And if she knows, then my mother knows. However, Rebecca didn’t know about the betrothal until it was too late. It’s possible she had no idea that her husband made a deal with William. I guess I’ll have to ask them later.’

Her mind ceased its rambling as Willow entered the room again.

“Hi,” she greeted, setting the platter of food on Buffy’s lap.

Buffy stared down at the abundance of food in awe. Two sunny-side up eggs stared back at her like little yellow eyes. Next to them was a plate of toast, plump sausage links, and sizzling bacon. Also crowded onto the platter was a bowl of mixed fruit, which was smothered in whipped cream and topped with a tiny cherry.

“I hope that’s enough,” Willow said.

“It’s plenty,” Buffy answered, snatching the cherry and plucking it from the stem with her teeth.

“Your mother will be here in an hour. She and Rebecca are going to stay to help get everything set up. And Anya should be here pretty soon, too. Xander had to explain to her about the whole ‘male bonding’ thing. She wasn’t too happy that she had to leave him, but I think she’s over it.”

Her mouth full of food, Buffy could only nod.

“Are you excited?” the redhead asked eagerly, then frowned at Buffy’s scowl. “No, of course you’re not. I wouldn’t be excited either if I was being thrown into a wedding against my will.”

“Is this supposed to be a pep talk because it’s not doing too well with the pep,” Buffy replied in agitation.

Willow ducked her head. “Sorry.”

The blonde sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Will. This whole thing is just making me crazy. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s understandable, considering your situation,” Willow replied.

Pushing the platter away, Buffy stood. “I’m ready for my close-up.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

An hour later, Joyce and Rebecca ascended the stairs with a slightly miffed Anya. They knocked on Buffy’s door and waited patiently to be admitted inside.

“Countess, Mrs. Summers, Anya,” Willow greeted cordially, waving them in. “Buffy’s just getting out of the bath now. Wait here.” She grabbed a towel from the back of a chair and hurried into the bathroom. “They’re here, Buffy.”

Opening her eyes wearily, Buffy frowned up at her friend. “But I’m all comfy and warm,” she pouted. “Can’t you tell them to come back later?”

Willow laughed. “Your wedding is in a few hours, and there’s still last minute preparations that you need to make.” She held out the towel. “The faster you move, the quicker your wedding will be over.”

Buffy sighed and stood up, wrapping the towel around herself and stepping out of the tub. She dried off quickly and sat on the toilet as Willow brushed out her wet hair. Then she donned a comfortable pink day gown and stepped out into her room to greet the three guests.

Joyce rushed over to her daughter, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Buffy, you look wonderful.”

“Hi, Mom,” was all Buffy could say. She waved at the other two over her mother’s shoulder.

Rebecca stood and gestured to the bed. “We come bearing gifts...well, a gift anyway.”

“It’s not really a gift,” Anya argued. “It’s your wedding gown. The gifts come after the ceremony. It’s a tradition.”

Squirming free of her mother’s grasp, Buffy moved to the bed, running her fingers over the white satin and lace gown. Something about it seemed very familiar. She looked up at her mother. “It was yours, wasn’t it?”

Joyce nodded, walking to the bed and picking up the dress. She held it up against her daughter and smiled. “You’ll look gorgeous in it.”

Rebecca cleared her throat, causing all eyes to turn to her. “There are a few last minute things we need to go over with you, Elizabeth. The ceremony will take place here at dusk. William thought it would be more convenient that way. After the vows are spoken, everyone will move into the ballroom. That’s when the festivities begin. You’ll open presents, eat cake, dance, and then it will be time for the guests to leave.”

“How long is the ceremony?” Buffy asked, dreading that “being alone” part.

“Well, you’ll walk down the aisle, the priest will say the vows, you’ll receive the rings, and then it’ll be time to greet your guests before the merriment begins.” Rebecca beamed, oblivious to the young girl’s discomfort.

Buffy swallowed. “And what about...the after part? The part where everyone leaves?”

Joyce smiled sympathetically at her daughter. “It won’t be so bad, Buffy. Besides, Rebecca, Willow, Anya, and I will all be up here to help get you ready.”

“That’s also tradition,” Anya remarked. “All the friends of the bride help her prepare for her wedding night.”

“What does that mean?”

Anya shrugged. “Basically, we tuck you under the covers and wish you luck.”

Buffy paled. “You don’t....stay?”

“Eww! No, we don’t stay!” Anya cried, making a face of disgust. “That’s just gross!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Buffy objected, blushing furiously.

“We know, sweetheart,” Joyce said, coming to her rescue and wrapping an arm about Buffy’s shoulders. “I didn’t want to go through with my wedding night either.”

Buffy looked up at her mother, surprise written on her weary face. “You didn’t? I thought you loved Daddy?”

Joyce smiled and squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “I did, but I was so terrified of that night! It’s a scary thought to a blushing bride to have to spend the first night with her husband.”

“Tell me about it,” Buffy mumbled inaudibly.

“I wasn’t scared,” Anya piped up. “I was excited to consummate my marriage to Xander.” She leaned close to Buffy and whispered, “It’s a lot more fun that you would think, trust me.”

Clearing her throat again, Rebecca said, “Well, I believe the ballroom is almost finished. Would you like to come see the decorations, Elizabeth? There’s some time before you have to get ready.”

Buffy nodded and followed them out of her bedroom, thankful that nobody noticed her blush at Anya’s words.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“So, are you excited?” Xander asked as he and William reigned in their horses.

William glared at him. “Yeah, I’m bloody ecstatic.”

Xander hopped off the horse and offered him a lopsided grin. “Dumb question, sorry.”

Shrugging, William led his horse into the stables. He and Xander had decided a nice long ride would get his mind off his wedding. It had worked...while they were riding. Now, however, his thoughts were once again spinning in the direction of the upcoming evening’s events.

“It won’t be that bad,” Xander said. “Married life, I mean.” He smirked. “It’s pretty good actually.”

“For you maybe,” William replied as they headed away from the stables. “You got to marry the woman of your choice. Me, I’m stuck marrying a girl who hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

William arched a dubious brow.

Xander shrugged. “Okay, so maybe she does hate you a little,” he conceded.

“A little? The bird wants absolutely *nothing* to do with me, not to mention the fact that she nearly chopped my head off for having Dru at dinner.”

“Well, that *was* pretty stupid of you,” Xander admitted, flashing his friend a smirk.

William punched him good-naturedly in the arm.

“You have to admit, Will, you didn’t start off on the right foot with the girl,” Xander said seriously.

“Yeah, well it sounded like a good idea at the time,” William grumbled.

Xander grinned wickedly at him. “Don’t *all* your ideas sound good at the time? And then later you find that they’re really not so good ideas?”

Another punch was delivered to his arm, this one a bit harder. “Shut up, whelp,” William growled.

They started back to the manor, arguing in that friendly way, both trying desperately to keep William’s mind off his wedding. As they neared the estate, they spotted a tall man walking towards them.

“‘Ello, Giles,” William called.

“Thank God,” Giles replied in relief. “I was beginning to think I’d have to spend all day with those women!”

Xander and William chuckled.

“What’re they up to now?” Xander inquired curiously.

Giles rolled his eyes. “They are showing Ms. Summers the ballroom decorations and trying to keep her hysteria under control.” He raised an eyebrow at William. “What did you do to her to make her so nervous?”

William shrugged and studiously avoided his eyes.

Xander noticed his friend’s discomfort and took the opportunity to embarrass him further. “You mean there’s actually somebody in London who *hasn’t* heard of the dinner fiasco?”

“Dinner fiasco?” Giles echoed, taking off his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief.

“Long story,” William said gruffly, scowling at Xander.

Giles smirked. “Oh, I have time. Please, do tell.”

Without hesitation, Xander launched himself into the story, simultaneously making William furious and making Giles burst out into a fit of laughter. He was quite pleased with himself afterward. He had succeeded in taking William’s mind off the wedding. In fact, he was quite certain the only thing William was thinking of now was how to kill him without anyone finding out about it.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

TBC....

~Chapter Seven: Nice Day for a White Wedding~

Buffy paced swiftly back and forth in her bathroom, her hands wringing in front of her. She was frantically thinking of a way to get herself out of the mess she was currently in. Her wedding was a mere hour away, and just the thought of it made her cringe.

Willow was sitting on the edge of the ivory bathtub, watching her as she paced. The redhead had come to help Buffy into her wedding gown after the tour of the ballroom. A tiny giggle escaped her as Buffy let out an exasperated sigh.

“What are you laughing at?” Buffy asked.

“You,” Willow replied, stifling another giggle as the blonde frowned. “You just look funny fuming in a wedding gown.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy resumed her pacing. “I’m glad one of us is enjoying this,” she mumbled.

“Not enjoying,” the redhead corrected quickly. “Just mildly amused.” She flashed a quick smile, hoping to cheer up her friend.

Another long sigh, this one mixed with a growl of frustration, emitted from Buffy as she finished another lap around the small room. She stopped in front of the door and wrenched it open. “I have to get out of here,” she said breathlessly, dashing out of the room.

Willow jumped up and ran after her. “Where are you going?” she called.

“For a walk,” Buffy yelled back. “Don’t worry, Wills! I’ll be here for my wedding!” With that said, she disappeared down the stairs.

“This is going to be a very long evening,” Willow said to the empty room, shaking her head.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Buffy had managed to escape the hustle and bustle going on inside the Edmonton estate. She was now walking at a leisurely pace, careful to stay away from the garden where the ceremony would take place. Briefly, she thought about heading to the stables and going for a quick ride, but her carefully pinned tresses and beautiful white gown would probably end up looking a little worse for wear. That would lead to numerous questions, which Buffy was not keen on answering. So instead, she veered off to the right. Ahead of her was a large elm tree that looked nice and shady. She decided it looked like a good place to sit and think, and she hurried over.

Just as she was about to sit down, a man poked his head around the tree. Buffy screeched and pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart. “Liam!” she shouted as he stepped into the light. “Don’t ever do that again!”

Liam smiled beguilingly. “Sorry. I saw you heading this way, and I just couldn’t resist. You’re so easy to scare.” He winked at her, then frowned as he noticed her attire. “Aren’t you a little over dressed?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Today is my wedding day. I just came out here for a bit of fresh air. There’s too many people inside the manor, all fussing over decorations and things.”

He nodded and canted his head at her. “I’m surprised you’re still marrying him.”

“I can’t really see a way out of it,” Buffy replied, leaning against the tree. “It isn’t as if I have a choice, you know. There is the little matter of the betrothal.”

“Oh, right. I forgot about that,” he said quietly, hiding his disappointment.

“Are you coming to the ceremony this evening?”

Liam looked surprised.

“I mean, you are a friend of William’s right?” she said a bit hesitantly, giving him a small smile.

Before he could answer, Willow shouted Buffy’s name and came jogging to the tree. “Thank goodness I found you! Your mother was getting worried,” she said, panting for breath.

Recognizing the redhead, Liam turned away quickly. “I don’t think I can make the ceremony, Buffy, though I do wish you both the best of luck.” Without waiting for a reply, he hurried off.

Buffy watched him with a puzzled frown. “That was odd,” she murmured quietly to herself.

“Buffy?” Willow said, waving a hand in front of her friend’s face. “Come on, we have to get you back inside. There’s a wedding going on!” She giggled at her own joke and tugged on Buffy’s arm.

Reluctantly, Buffy followed her back to the manor, still wondering why Liam had run off so fast. Her musing was interrupted, however, as she spotted a dark-haired woman standing in the kitchen next to Rebecca. A jolt of anger coursed through her, and she marched forward.

“What the hell is *she* doing here?”

Both women turned to face her, surprise etched on both their faces. Drusilla recognized Buffy, and her surprise turned to a sneer. Rebecca looked from one woman to the other, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

“Elizabeth, this is...” she started, but was cut off by Buffy’s succinct reply.

“I know who she is.”

“Good to see you, too, dearie,” Drusilla purred.

Rebecca stepped between the two glaring women, facing Buffy. “Drusilla stopped by to see if there was anything she could do to help. She’ll be on her way shortly.”

Buffy bristled but remained calm. “I’d like to speak with you, Rebecca,” she said, her voice quiet and callous. “In private, if you please.”

“Of course, dear,” Rebecca answered, following Buffy out of the kitchen and up to her room. “Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?” she asked as she shut the door behind her.

Whirling about, her eyes blazing with fire, Buffy stated slowly, “Yes, actually, there was. You see, I’ve spent most of the day thinking how I could get myself out of this mess, and I can’t seem to find a loophole.” She held up a finger to silence Rebecca. “However, I have recently made the discovery that I hold quite a bit of power over you. In this case, anyway.”

Rebecca frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Then allow me to elaborate. I know all about William’s little deal with your husband, Mrs. Edmonton,” she spat the name with contempt, “and I now know that you need me. Without my consent, your son doesn’t get a penny of your deceased husband’s money, nor does he get the acres and acres of land that undoubtedly goes with it.” She paused and eyed the older woman carefully before continuing. “Now, I am, unfortunately, bound by the betrothal to marry William. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make a few changes around here before hand.”

A light bulb went on in Rebecca’s head, and her eyes narrowed. “What kind of changes are we talking about?”

Buffy shrugged. “Nothing too drastic. First, I don’t want that woman ever setting foot in this house again.”

“That may be a problem, considering she is somewhat important to my son,” Rebecca sighed, not needing to ask whom ‘that woman’ was.

Waving a dismissive hand, Buffy said, “I don’t care what she is to him. If he wants to see her, I can’t stop that. But it will *not* be on my property. Is that clear?”

Rebecca nodded slowly.

“Good. Then there’s just one more teensy thing I’m going to ask of you,” Buffy said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I realize that in order for William to inherit his father’s fortune, he must produce a male heir. Since the only reason he will marry me is to get that money, I suppose there’s no way around that, seeing as how we’re both bound anyway. However, there was nothing in the agreement about the mother having to live with him once the child is born.”

“You want to move back to America,” Rebecca finished.

“I see no reason to stay,” was all Buffy said.

“What about your mother?”

Smiling wryly, Buffy replied, “She doesn’t have to know about it. I know why you never told her, and if I happened to let this all slip, I have a feeling you wouldn’t see our agreement through. As for my moving back to America, well, she always wanted me to grow up and live my own life. She should be happy about it.” For a moment, she looked undecided, as if that last statement had triggered something in her brain, telling her that this was wrong. Then she shook her head to clear her thoughts and fixed Rebecca with an icy stare. “Do we have a deal?”

The older woman crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll have to run this all by William first.”

“I really don’t see how he can refuse,” Buffy laughed, “but if it makes you feel better, go ahead.”

“How did you find out?”

Buffy grinned. “Your secrets aren’t as well guarded as you think, Rebecca.”

Realizing that was the only answer she was going to get from the blonde, Rebecca nodded and walked out of the bedroom. She had never expected the girl to figure it all out, nor did she expect the balance of power to shift out of her hands. There was only one thing left for her to do now, and she knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“She’s demanding *what* of me?” William shouted angrily.

Rebecca winced at his tone. She had dreaded telling him of Buffy’s demands for this exact reason; he had a horrible temper. Quietly, she repeated what the younger woman had told her, waiting expectantly for him to explode.

“I don’t believe this! How the bloody hell did she find out?” he cried, fixing his mother with an impatient glare.

“I-I don’t know, William,” she admitted. “She just...knew. She wouldn’t tell me how.”

With shaking hands, William poured himself a drink and tipped his head back, swallowing the entire thing in one big gulp. He slammed the glass down on the table before asking, rather calmly, “Who knows?”

“No one!” Rebecca said immediately, her defenses rising. “You and I are the only ones who know, I swear. Not even Joyce knows!”

He raised a doubtful brow. “No one? Well, somebody else had to know because I sure as hell didn’t tell her!”

She approached him calmly, resting her hands on his tense arms. “We’ll find out, William. We will. Just not now. Right now we have more important things to worry about.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to marry her now!” William cried incredulously.

“That’s exactly what I expect,” Rebecca replied sternly. “Now, get ready.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Dusk had finally fallen. Outside in the garden, the crowd of people began taking their seats under the white canopies. At the end of the aisle, the minister stood at his podium, a very nervous and angry William to his left. Next to the groom stood Xander and Giles, both whispering words of encouragement through their smiles. At the opposite end of the aisle, Willow, Anya, and Joyce were trying desperately to keep Buffy from fainting. Although she had stood up to Rebecca and refused to be intimidated, Buffy was still terrified of being married.

As the music started, Willow and Anya flashed her one last heartening smile before heading down the long aisle. Joyce slipped her arm through her daughter’s and gave her a bright smile. They said nothing as they followed the two bridesmaids, both too caught up in their own musings.

When they neared the podium, Buffy’s eyes darted everywhere but William. She refused to give him the pleasure of seeing fear in her eyes. It was a bit harder not to look at him when her mother placed her hand in his. She did manage it, though, focusing her eyes on the lapels of his black suit instead. She was thankful when he turned them to face the priest; now all she had to do was look straight ahead.

William had watched her the whole way down the aisle, his jaw clenched in anger. He was furious that she would dare demand things from him, yet at the same time he felt strangely intrigued by her strength. He had never met a woman who would make such a bold move. And she was beautiful, he had to give her that. He had no doubt marriage with her would be difficult, but hadn’t someone once told him that working through something would make the rewards that much sweeter? Ah, yes, his father had told him that.

“The rings,” the minister said, breaking through his thoughts.

William began to panic. Were they already at the rings?

Xander stepped forward, pulling two silver bands from his pocket. He placed them in William’s palm and winked at Buffy before moving back to his place.

Turning to face his future wife, William took her left hand in his. “With this ring,” he said softly, slipping the band on her finger, “I thee wed.”

Buffy sucked in a sharp breath, accidentally forgetting her promise not to look at him. She could see the anger brimming in his deep blue gaze, but even more prominent than that was something else, something she couldn’t quite place. There was a little bit of fear, too, but it was this indefinable emotion in his eyes that frightened her more than anything. She blinked and looked away, his gaze too probing.

There was silence, and she suddenly realized they were all waiting for her. She blushed and took the ring from his palm, repeating the words and sliding it onto his finger.

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister said, smiling at William.

Buffy felt her heart begin to race as he ever so gently pulled her to him, one hand pressing lightly on the small of her back. He raised her chin up, and she was forced to look into his penetrating baby blues again. ‘Not so bad this time,’ she thought fleetingly.

William’s lips descended, barely grazing hers in a chaste kiss. He closed his eyes against the flutter of emotions that stirred within him, concentrating on the feel of her lips pressed to his. All too quickly it was over, and he was staring into her wide hazel eyes, trying to name the emotions that flitted through them.

She broke away first, her breathing heavy and her mind racing. ‘It’s the fear,’ she told herself forcefully. ‘Heavy breathing is caused by fear, not by feather light kisses. Oh, God, stop thinking about the kiss!’

Noticing her embarrassment, William took her hand in his. “Come on, sweet,” he said, pulling her down the aisle. “Time to go greet the guests.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

TBC.....

~Chapter Eight: Reasons~

The long line of smiling faces and warm congratulations was finally coming to an end, and William was grateful to see Xander and Giles near by. The smile he had plastered on his face was starting to hurt, as was his head from the loud and boisterous crowd around them.

Buffy, he noticed, wasn’t faring much better. Although she refused to look at him, he could see the uneasiness in her face. Her resolve to keep her eyes averted from his amused him somewhat. She had been like that since their brief, tentative kiss just a few minutes ago, and he found himself wondering absently what she was thinking. The only thing he could clearly discern from her movements was her anxiety, but he had a strong feeling there was something more going on inside her head.

There was a lot going on inside his head as well. The kiss had awakened feelings he didn’t care to examine at the moment, but rather, he wished he could bury them and forget everything he was currently feeling. Unfortunately, said feelings kept popping back up in his mind, making it impossible to ignore them.

However tumultuous his emotions, he did a damn fine job of not showing them. His face was a mask of calm, seemingly happy to the casual observer, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

As they approached Xander and Giles, William dropped his wife’s hand, smirking at his friends. “Had to wait at the end of the line, didn’t you?” he complained.

“Well, we couldn’t just steal you away at the beginning,” Xander explained. He turned to look at a fidgety Buffy and smiled softly. “Anya’s at that table over there,” he said, pointing off to his right. “She told me to send you over.”

Buffy smiled gratefully at him, her first genuine smile in a while. “Thank you,” she murmured before hurrying away, not even bothering to glance at Giles or her husband.

“She seems a bit apprehensive, William,” the older man stated as he watched her scurry away.

“Probably just nervous about the big wedding night, right, Will?” Xander said, clapping the blonde on the back.

William shrugged. “Probably.” Although he was willing to bet there was more to it than that.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“There’s the blushing bride!” Anya exclaimed, beaming. She gestured to the seat next to her. “Sit down, Buffy. Have a glass of champagne.”

Buffy complied, taking the glass offered to her and sipping daintily.

“How are you, Buff?” Willow asked from her place next to Anya.

“Fine. Just fine,” Buffy lied, a phony smile on her face.

Her companions exchanged a look, and Willow said, “You don’t have to pretend with us, Buffy.”

“Yeah, we know you’re scared to death,” Anya added bluntly.

Frowning into her champagne glass, Buffy said, “I’m not scared.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Please. Look at you! You’re all fidgety. That’s a very distinct sign of anxiety.”

“I am *not* fidgety!” Buffy cried, twisting nervously in her chair. A blush crept up her cheeks as she realized what she had just done.

Willow smiled sympathetically at her. “It’s okay, Buffy. We understand why you’d be distressed. I’d be scared about my wedding night, too.”

Buffy scowled. “I’m *not* scared,” she repeated, more to convince herself than her friends.

“You know, I don’t understand this,” Anya said suddenly. “I mean, we tell you it’s okay to be afraid, we’re even trying to help you cope with it, and you’re denying it all.

“I’m not denying anything! There’s nothing to deny!”

Anya folded her arms over her chest and raised a brow. “Well, now you’re just denying that you’re in denial.”

“I’m not denying that I’m in denial,” Buffy replied, glaring at Anya.

“Oh, so now you’re going to deny that you’re denying that...” she was cut off by Willow’s shout.

“This could go on forever, guys! Let’s just say that nobody is denying anything and call it even, okay? I’m starting to get a headache listening to the two of you bicker like that.”

Pouting, both blondes sat back in their chairs.

Willow sighed and turned to Buffy. “The point of all this is that Anya and I know what you’re going through. Well, not knowing in the sense of actually having gone through it, but you know what I mean.”

Buffy smiled and patted her friend’s hand. “I know, Wills. Thanks.”

“I’ve been through it,” Anya corrected. “It’s very enjoyable.”

Making a face, Buffy said, “That was more than I wanted to know.”

Shrugging off the comment, Anya continued, “I really don’t see why you’re so scared. The wedding night is the most fun part of getting married. Aside from the gifts, of course.”

“For the last time, I’m not scared.”

Anya didn’t look convinced.

Buffy sighed heavily. “Okay, so there might be a little fear about my big wedding night, but that wasn’t really what I was thinking about.” She gave Anya a pointed look. “I was *trying* to forget about that, thank you.”

“What were you thinking about then?” Anya asked, ignoring Buffy’s last statement.

Buffy opened her mouth to say that she was attempting to silently examine her feelings after that brief kiss she and her husband had shared but thought better of it and said instead, “I was just thinking about how my life is going to be different from now on. I’m a married woman, and pretty soon I’m going to be a mother. It’s kinda overwhelming and a little scary.”

‘There,’ she thought. ‘Not *exactly* a lie. I mean, all that stuff is true, it’s just...not really what I was thinking just then either.’

Willow seemed satisfied. “That’s understandable. And that’s great that you’re trying not to think of...well...you know.” She blushed as if to accentuate her statement, and Buffy couldn’t help but smile at her naive friend.

Anya, too, seemed content with her answer. “I *told* you that you were denying your fear of the wedding night.”

“Did I mention the part where I was trying to forget that?” Buffy asked, rolling her eyes.

“The wedding night is another tradition and, in my experience, quite pleasant,” Anya chirped as if she hadn’t heard the other blonde. “You can’t have a wedding without the wedding night or the whole thing would be pointless.”

Buffy sighed in agitation. “This whole thing is pointless anyway, Anya. The only reason William and I are even going through with it is to please our parents. Oh, and so he can get his father’s inheritance money.” She said the last bitterly and took a swig of her champagne.

Willow’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline in surprise. “What? I...Buffy, there has to be something you’re missing. W-William just wouldn’t do that. He-he’s not like that!”

“Well, apparently you don’t know him very well because that’s *exactly* what he’s doing,” Buffy shot back. “And even if he wasn’t,” she continued, “it’s not like it would matter. Neither one of us is marrying for love...or like even.”

“So why is this all a big deal?” Anya asked. “I mean, if neither of you like each other, why do you care his reasons for marrying you? It’s not like yours are any better.”

Buffy stared at her as if she was crazy. “Of course mine are better!” she cried. “I mean, yeah, I’m marrying him because of this stupid betrothal contract, but there’s no *money* in it for me.”

Anya shrugged. “Technically there is. As the man, he will own everything, but this house essentially is half yours, and he is obligated to buy you all kinds of pretty things.” She sighed. “I see no bad here.”

“The bad is that I’m only a...means to an end...to him,” Buffy fumed.

“And he’s what, your Prince Charming?” Anya quipped.

Glowering at her, Buffy said through clenched teeth, “Anya, I really don’t expect you to get this. You married Xander of your own free will. You have no idea what it’s like to be thrown into something like this without any say in the matter.”

Anya’s face turned thoughtful as she said, “You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like. All *I* know is that you’re complaining about something you can’t change. Not to mention the fact that it doesn’t make sense! I mean, so what, he’s using you to get money. You’re using him to make your mother happy.”

“And you don’t see a difference there?” Buffy asked incredulously.

“Okay, so his reason is slightly worse,” Anya conceded grudgingly. “But,” she continued, holding up a hand, “I don’t think you’re just angry about all this. I think you’re hurt by the fact that he needed money as an added incentive to marry you, and your anger is really just a way to deal with the pain you don’t want to admit to.”

Shock was plain on Buffy’s face as Anya finished her speech. She could do nothing but open and close her mouth like a fish out of water. No words came forth for her to speak, and she was pretty sure her brain just had an overload. She blinked, and unexpected tears formed in her eyes. Standing up quickly, she growled, “You don’t know a *thing* about me, Anya Harris. Don’t presume to tell me what I do and do not feel. You have no idea what I’m going through.” She spun away from the table and dashed toward the manor, tears already beginning to fall from her eyes.

Willow frowned at Anya. “Nice going.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

William downed the rest of his champagne and snatched the bottle from Giles. Since his wife had left him in the company of his two companions, William had been determined to drink himself into a stupor.

At first, his only purpose had been to drown out the little voice that kept buzzing about his mixed-up emotions. Now, however, the little voice had fallen into a peaceful slumber and only the anger remained. Anger was good. Anger was a feeling William could handle, a feeling he could do something about. The fluffy bunny feelings Buffy’s kiss had evoked were not something he was used to dealing with; hence the three bottles of champagne he had already drunk.

His only goal now was to get so plastered he could no longer remember this day once it had passed.

Xander gripped the blonde’s arm, preventing him from tipping the bottle to his lips. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Will?” he asked, indicating the empty bottles on the table.

“Dunno,” William commented lazily. “Hold up your fingers.”

Xander did as he was told, holding his palm in front of his friend’s face.

William frowned. “Nope. Can still see all seven fingers.”

Prying the bottle from his grasp, Xander said, “And that would be good...if I *had* seven fingers on my right hand.”

“Can’t you see I’m in pain here?” William growled, trying to grab the bottle but failing miserably.

“Drowning your sorrows in alcohol won’t help your pain, William,” Giles said.

“Why not?” William pouted.

Giles sighed. “Because pain runs deep. The only real way to deal with it is to go to the source and fix the problem.”

“By the way,” Xander interjected, “what is the source of your pain?”

“Buffy,” William grumbled. “Bloody bint found out ‘bout the deal and went all high and mighty makin’ demands.”

Both Giles’ and Xander’s jaws dropped. “Demands?” they echoed in disbelief.

William laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. She doesn’t want Dru in the house ever again, for one. For another, once she has my son, she’s movin’ back to the good old USA.”

“And you just went along with that?” Xander asked incredulously.

Glaring at him, William growled, “‘S not really like I had a choice here, Harris. No way the bird would’ve married me if I hadn’t agreed. No marriage means no money, remember? That would leave you out of a job, and me with not a blessed thing either.”

“Well, hey, at least you’ll be rid of her,” Xander chirped, trying to see the bright side of things.

“Yeah,” William mumbled, ignoring the tiny ache those words caused.

“D-do you know who told her by any chance?” Giles asked, taking off his glasses to clean them.

“Not a bloody clue, mate,” William replied. “You two and my mum were the only ones who knew ‘bout it. Unless...Xander, you didn’t tell Anya, did you?”

Xander looked offended. “Of course not. I love Anya, but she’s got a big mouth. If I’d told her, Buffy would’ve found out a long time ago.”

“P-perhaps if you...spoke to her...” Giles suggested haltingly. “Perhaps she could tell you?”

The blonde pondered that for a moment. He somewhat doubted Buffy would be obliged to tell him who had confessed everything to her, but he was never going to find out unless he asked her. Besides, a good fight with her might just get his mind off the damn butterfly sensation in his stomach every time he thought of her. Might even remind him why he hated her...if he still did.

Suddenly sober and grinning deviously, he stood up. “Sorry, can’t stay, got to go see a girl.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

TBC.....

 

~Chapter Nine: Anger and Comfort and Anger Again~

Hurriedly making his way to his wife’s table, William swerved through his guests, his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. He hoped his avoidance at eye contact would discourage anyone from speaking to him at the moment. Speaking would only delay his confrontation with Buffy, and he wanted to get everything out in the open with her as soon as possible. Thankfully, most people who saw him coming could feel the anger and tension radiating from him and gladly stepped out of his way.

He approached her table, and Willow immediately stood, a slightly embarrassed grin on her face.

“Count William, er...what brings you here?” she asked nervously.

“Lookin’ for my wife,” William replied, his speech slightly slurred. Apparently, the three bottles of champagne hadn’t completely worn off yet.

Willow’s eyes darted everywhere but him. “Oh, well, she’s not...here...at the moment,” she said hesitantly, looking to Anya for help.

William frowned. “Where’d she run off to?”

“Uh...” Willow tried to stall, her frantic gaze darting between William and Anya.

Picking up her cue, Anya sighed and stood. “She’s in the manor. I said some stuff that she didn’t really want to hear.”

“And she got mad and scampered off?”

It was Anya’s turn to look nervous. “Well...” she began, her gaze flitting to Willow for support.

The redhead simply crossed her arms and waited for Anya to continue with her confession.

“She was mad,” Anya said slowly, “but she was also kinda...hurt.”

William’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Hurt?” he repeated.

“I was sort of brutally honest. She didn’t like what I had to say,” Anya explained.

“She ran off crying,” Willow added quietly, suddenly finding something very interesting in the grass.

Nodding slowly, William said, “Right then. Guess I’d better go see what’s goin’ on.” He left without another word, disappearing into the crowd.

As he headed inside the manor, William was lost in thought. He hadn’t bothered to ask Anya what she’d said to upset his bride, and that worried him a bit. He seemed more concerned with making sure Buffy was all right. In the short time she’d been in London, he had seen her cry too many times. Granted, this time it wasn’t because of him, but he still felt it was his responsibility to see to her well-being. He was, after all, her husband. It was his job to take care of her now.

Although, come to think of it, why should he even care? Just because he has an obligation to her doesn’t mean he should actually *want* to comfort her. It should be an automatic duty, not an overwhelming desire.

“I don’t care,” he told himself as he started up the stairs. “Not one bleedin’ bit. Just makin’ sure she’s all right, ‘s all.”

‘And why would you want to do that?’ a voice inside his head asked. ‘If she doesn’t mean anything to you, why do you feel so terrible that she’s hurt?’

“Don’t feel *terrible*,” he argued out loud.

‘Well, you’re not exactly *happy* ‘bout it, either,’ the voice quipped.

“Sod off,” William growled.

‘Can’t do that, mate,’ the voice continued. ‘You’re the one that’s thinkin’ all this, ‘m just the messenger.’

It was a good thing nobody was inside the manor just then. They would have undoubtedly been alarmed to hear William having a one-sided argument with himself. He probably wouldn’t have noticed anyway, being too wrapped up in his thoughts.

He sighed. “Don’t wanna think right now. Just need to...”

‘Make sure she’s all right. Yeah, yeah, I know,’ the voice sighed in exasperation. ‘My point was, why do you care?’

“I don’t.”

‘Then why are you rushing up here to comfort her?’

“‘S my job. ‘M her husband,” William said, starting to get frustrated with himself.

‘Who do you think you’re fooling, mate? I *know* how you really feel.”

“So what’s with all the questions then?”

The voice sighed again. ‘You’re second guessing yourself, you wanker.’

“Oi!” William exclaimed, offended. “‘M not a wanker. ‘M just...”

‘Turning into a nancy-boy,’ the voice supplied. ‘You’re forgetting everything she’s done to you. Remember, you didn’t *decide* to marry her, you were forced into it.’

“Yeah, but that wasn’t her fault,” William argued.

The voice in his head was becoming agitated. ‘Why are you defending her, you ponce? Don’t you remember what she put you through? What ‘bout those demands she made? Does the name Drusilla ring a bell?’

Recollection finally dawned on William. “Yeah, I remember. Bitch won’t let her in my house any more.”

‘Bloody right she won’t,’ the voice agreed. ‘Of course, you could’ve stopped that...oh wait, no, you couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have agreed to marry you then.’

William growled in response, remembering all too clearly the helplessness of his situation.

‘Who told her ‘bout that, anyway?’ the voice rambled on.

Shaking his head, William replied, “Haven’t a bloody clue.”

‘Well, aren’t you going to ask her ‘bout it?’ the voice prodded.

“Damn right I am,” William said firmly, his anger rising.

The voice turned thoughtful. ‘Doubt she’s gonna tell you, mate. Seems to be an awfully stubborn chit.’

“That she is.” Another ripple of anger ran through him.

‘So what’re you gonna do ‘bout it? How’re you gonna get her to tell you?’

He grinned deviously. “Not gonna give her a choice.”

Seemingly satisfied, the voice inquired, ‘So tell me again why you wanted to comfort her?’

At a loss for words, William simply continued on his way to her room. His ire was blazing now, mixing with the hazy effect of the alcohol he’d consumed earlier. Drunk and furious was a volatile combination on him, making him rash and aggressive. There was no way he was letting his wife off the hook without a confrontation, especially after she’d made his life miserable and messed up his emotions--and *especially* since she had found out his little secret. He could see no clear way around the argument that was about to ensue, even through his rage and his drunken daze.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Buffy was snuggled warmly into the satin sheets when she heard the banging on her door. Stifling a groan of frustration, she wrapped her woolen robe around her and padded softly to the door. As she saw the man on the other side, her face hardened into a scowl. “What do you want?” she asked him, wiping a hand over her dampened cheeks.

William brushed past her into the room, a duplicate of her scowl on his face. Once inside, he whirled to face her, his eyes bright with fury. “Who told you ‘bout the deal?” he asked in a deadly voice.

Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she studied him. “Does it matter?” she inquired softly, her eyes brimming with tears again at the mention of the deal.

“Yes, it bloody well does matter!” he shouted. “Who told you, damn it!”

Surprised by his sudden outburst, Buffy’s defenses rose, as did her voice. “Do you honestly expect me to tell you? After all that you’ve done to me?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “After all *I’ve* done?” he echoed, incredulous. “What ‘bout those soddin’ demands you placed on my life?”

“Those were *nothing* compared to what you did to me,” Buffy spat. “So your mistress isn’t allowed in your home anymore, big deal. I didn’t stop you from seeing her completely.”

“Like you could,” he snorted.

“Exactly. As for the other one, why would you care if I go back to America? It’s not like you enjoy having me here anyway.”

He didn’t reply, his icy stare firmly fixed on a spot above her head.

Cringing inwardly at his absent denial, Buffy continued succinctly, “You paraded Drusilla in front of me, proving quite efficiently how much you loathed the idea of marrying me, while simultaneously humiliating me. *Then* I find out that you’re marrying me for money. Do you know how degrading that is?”

William smirked. “Which hurts you more, luv? Being jealous of Dru or the fact that it took money in order for me to agree to marry you?”

A resounding slap echoed in the room as Buffy’s open palm connected with her husband’s cheek. Unheeded tears were falling from her watery hazel eyes as her chest heaved up and down, struggling to maintain a normal breathing pattern. Pain, anger, and shame reflected across her face in rapid succession, each fighting for dominance.

The force of the blow had sent William’s head to the side. Slowly, he turned to look at her, an angry red handprint marring his left cheek. He was stunned, both by the slap and the emotions flitting across her face. Blinking several times, William felt the drunken daze begin to dissipate like a fog lifting, leaving his mind clear.

When she could breathe normally, Buffy informed him coldly, “I am *not* jealous of your mistress. My pride has simply been hurt.” She wouldn’t dare tell him that his assumptions were almost dead-on. That would only give him more power over her and inevitably lead to even more pain.

William’s face softened as he watched the silent tears trickle down her face. She was more hurt than she let on, but he wouldn’t draw attention to it just now. He took a step closer to her and was mildly amused when she didn’t back up. She did stiffen, however, and that caused a pang of guilt to shoot through his stomach. He sighed heavily and dragged a hand through his hair. “‘M sorry, luv.”

Wary of his sudden change in demeanor, Buffy eyed him cautiously. She wasn’t going to argue, but she had to wonder what had brought on this unexpected apology.

Sensing her uneasiness, William gestured to the bed. “Why don’t we sit down and start over? Have a nice calm chat.”

She did as he suggested, sitting nervously on the edge of her bed. As he sat down next to her, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw that his face was filled with concern. “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” she blurted, her curiosity getting the better of her.

He frowned slightly. “Just apologizing for hurting you.”

“Why do you care *now*?” she pressed irritably.

“Don’t honestly know,” he replied truthfully, giving her a quick embarrassed grin. “Don’t like seeing you cry, I suppose.”

Buffy’s cheeks warmed as she hastily brushed the tears away. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve cried since I came here,” she whispered bitterly.

William nodded. “I know. Guess this time was just one too many.”

Startled, both by his honesty and the fact that he’d heard her, Buffy struggled to form words. She was so thrown by his sudden caring attitude towards her that she found herself blurting, “Well, this time it wasn’t *all* your fault.”

“What did Anya say to you anyway, pet?” he asked in concern.

Buffy stared at him, perplexed. “How did you...?”

He shrugged. “She told me.”

Buffy’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ shape before another blush crept up her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter,” she said hastily.

Taking that as his cue to drop the subject, William sighed. There was something she was hiding, but he didn’t want to press her. Instead, he steered the conversation back to the original reason he’d wanted to come speak to her. “So, you know ‘bout the deal and all, yeah?” he asked quietly, his gaze finding an interesting scuffmark on his boots.

She stiffened slightly but nodded. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting to know who told me?”

He gave her a sheepish grin in response.

Maybe it was his sudden mood swing that caused her to tell him, or maybe it was the way he had looked at her, like she was this fragile creature he had almost shattered. Whatever the reason, Buffy’s mouth opened and the name rolled off her tongue. As her husband’s features darkened, she was instantly sorry she’d said anything at all.

“Angel,” William snarled, “Bloody hell, I knew that poof would be trouble! I’ll kill him!” He bolted out the door, a string of curses following in his wake.

Buffy stared after him, confusion and fear written all over her face. She had never seen William look so murderous, and who the hell was Angel?

* * * * * * * * * * * *

TBC.....

Next