What is Choice?
Chapter Four: Ever Since We Met You've Had a Hold on Me

Buffy burst through the door of her apartment, a whirl of motion and energy. The drive from San Diego had seemed to take forever, and then she had to take care of some errands, including picking Dawn up from her friend's house. But she was home now, and she dove for the phone.

"Sheesh," Dawn commented, following her sister into the apartment. "You're entirely too peppy. What happened to you this weekend?"

Buffy turned towards Dawn, the cordless phone tucked against her shoulder as she dug through her purse for Will's number. "I have no idea what you mean, Dawn. I just have to make a phone call."

"Right," Dawn said. "A phone call . . . to a guy," she teased in a sing-song voice.

Buffy stopped digging and stared at her sister. "Huh? How'd you guess?"

Dawn snorted. "Please. Seen this two times before, and heard your stories about that guy in college. Although I've never seen it this bad. I hope he's really cute."

Buffy grinned. "Gorgeous. And now I'm going to call him, from my room. You're on your own for dinner."

Dawn looked puzzled. "Buffy, it's only two o'clock in the afternoon. You've never talked on the phone that long, even pre-Slayer."

"First time for everything, sister dear." Buffy giggled and dashed into her room, leaving a shocked Dawn behind.

Buffy dropped her bags on the floor, and flopped down on the bed. But instead of punching in Will's number, she paused, gazing at the piece of paper she held in her hand.

"What am I doing?" she asked herself aloud. Dawn was right--she'd never been this giddy over a guy before, even when she was fourteen and finally caught the attention of what's-his-name, the guy that every girl in school had wanted.

She had barely known Will for a few hours, yet she had engaged in a serious liplock and some heavy-duty relationship discussion, if only vaguely. Ever since Angel, she hadn't been one to jump in feet-first; her experience with Parker had only confirmed the fact that chemistry wasn't enough to build a relationship. Of course, chemistry was good, seeing as how she'd had none with Riley. Even though he had been a nice guy, and what any sane girl should want in a boyfriend, he hadn't excited her.

Buffy sighed, and blew her bangs out of her eyes. There was no reason to freak out, yet. Sure, they had done some kissing, but it wasn't like she had anything to be ashamed about. And living hours apart might be good, at least at the beginning of whatever she had with Will. It'd certainly help her figure out if there was more to him than good looks and the ability to turn her into Jell-O.

Before her doubts could return for round two, she quickly dialed Will's number, her breath coming fast.

"Hello?"

"Hi," she answered, feeling much calmer at the sound of his voice.

"Hey! Home all safe and sound?"

"Yeah--although I think my sister is looking for the pod I must have crawled out of. Happy Buffy has been such a rare visitor lately, Dawn's probably feeling like she's in a remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers."

"Well, since I like Happy Buffy, among the many Buffies I've met so far, we'll have to see about keeping her around."

Buffy laughed into the phone. "So what did you do all day, while I was stuck in traffic?"

She heard a slight pause, and then he cleared his throat. "Um, writing."

"Writing? I thought you worked at a college."

"How'd you find that out?" Will asked, already pretty sure whom she'd asked.

"I bribed Rich to get the info this morning. And don't worry, I just bribed him with breakfast."

"Remind me to find some new, less talkative friends," Will said, his voice joking. "Yes, I work in PR for a college down here. But what I really do is write."

"How is that going for you?" Buffy asked, rolling onto her back.

"It's good. Had a book of short stories published last year, so the next step is a novel. I've got an idea I'm working on now, seeing what develops."

Buffy sighed. "It must be great, to know what you want to do, and to be good at it."

"It's satisfying. Doesn't make the days I want to throw the computer out the bloody window any less frustrating though."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "I get that. I had moments like that . . ." She trailed off, suddenly realizing how close she came to saying "when I was Slaying." A conversation definitely not to be begun now. Maybe not ever.

She hurriedly tried to finish her sentence without attracting attention. ". . . in a job I had."

A silence fell between them, but unlike on Saturday night, Buffy didn't rush to fill it with words. She merely listened to his breathing, wondering what expression was on his face, what emotion was lurking within his eyes.

Will was the one to speak this time. "So tell me . . . what was the last thing you read that just knocked you out?"

Buffy smiled happily, remembering his words from the previous evening. "A poem that I had to read for class. It didn't feel like schoolwork, because it just spoke to me. Neruda's sonnet #17."

Will paused, and said, "I do not love you as if you were salt-rose or topaz/or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off./I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,/in secret, between the shadow and the soul."

Buffy let out the breath she'd inhaled when he had started reciting. "Wow. Will, that was amazing."

She could practically hear him blushing. "It's one of my favorites. Probably my favorite Neruda. So many people prefer 'I Crave Your Mouth,' but #17 has always seemed . . . more real to me. More basic and elemental."

"I know what you mean," Buffy replied softly. She sighed, and said, "So do you like poetry?"

"Love it," he said. "Can't write it for crap, so I let other people speak for me in that arena."

"I suck with words, myself," Buffy commented.

"Not at all, love--don't sell yourself short. Anyone who can quip like you is no lightweight. And you even can use big words when under the influence of my devastating charm."

Buffy laughed. "You were hoping I would be so dazzled by the compliment, I wouldn't cut you down to size over the end of that sentence, weren't you?"

"I'm a guy," Will said. "I always have to push my luck."

"Is that a fact?" Buffy said, her eyebrow raised.

"It's fully laid out in the Bloke's Bible, after 'Thou shalt not ask for directions' and before 'Thou shalt determine the nature of a break with a girlfriend before dating again'."

"Never would have pegged you as a 'Friends' fan, Will."

Will sighed melodramatically. "I was dating a girl who loved it. I watched it some, but it's just a mess now--who cares about Joey and Rachel, not to mention all of Monica's whinging?"

"Don't worry, Will, I still think you're a real guy."

"I should hope so," Will retorted, his voice sounding a bit sulky.

Buffy grinned, amused by this side of Will. Suddenly, there was a click, and Dawn's voice came through the phone. "Hi, Buffy's Mystery Guy. Buffy, you forgot to get peanut butter at the store. Extra-chunky." The extension clicked off, and Buffy groaned.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, just me."

"Well, that was tame for Dawn. Once, I was on the phone with the guy that every girl wanted to be the one on the other end of the phone. We're talking, and I can tell he's leading up to asking me to the Winter Formal. Then, Dawn picks up the phone, tells the guy I had doodled 'Buffy + Ryan = 4eva' all over my notebooks and that there were several interesting passages in my diary that could be had, for a price." Buffy grimaced at Will's laughter. "Hey, it was very traumatic to my fifteen year-old heart."

Will finished laughing. "So even then, you had the guys falling all over you."

Buffy frowned. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea . . . "Well, it was just silly high school stuff. Sure, I dated, but I tend towards 'serious boyfriend' versus 'revolving door of dates'. Just two boyfriends, and one fling." She paused, biting her lip and wondering if she had gotten too serious.

"S'all right, love, wasn't fishing for your relationship history. No worries."

Buffy waited, expecting him to return the favor. "Well, aren't you gonna spill about your exes now?"

She could practically hear his smirk coming through the phone lines when he spoke. "Nah, I think I'll hold off. Gives you a reason to answer when I call you back."

"Yeah, to tell you that you're a pig," she said, her tone teasing.

"Grown with pride in Great Britain, just for you, pet," he replied. "What does tomorrow hold for you?"

"Work," Buffy sighed. "And I have a paper to work on for next Monday."

"Well, you've got a peanut butter emergency, so I'll let you go, love. But I'll call you tomorrow, if that's okay."

"Okay? It'd be perfect," Buffy said, trying to sound happy even though she was loathe to stop talking.

"Cheer up, Buffy. I know you'll have a great day tomorrow."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And how do you know that, Mr. Psychic?" she asked skeptically.

"Simple. I know you will, because you're bloody amazing."

Buffy felt a rush of sweetness at his words. "I'm gonna get used to this sweet talk pretty quick, if you keep it up."

Will's voice dropped. "Just the truth as I see it. You take care of yourself."

Buffy sighed. "I will. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

She hung up the phone before she could say something stupid, like "We barely know each other but I'm already falling for you." She had never been one for expressing her emotions, but she felt so free with Will that she was forgetting her rules.

'Remember, you can never take back words,' she told herself as she left her bedroom to deal with Dawn's PB withdrawal.

**

Will dragged himself into his house on Monday evening, never so happy to be home as he was at that moment. His day had, in a word, sucked. He had woken up late, cut himself shaving, nearly gotten into an accident on the way to work, and then dumped coffee all over himself ten minutes after he had walked in the door. He'd been given a huge new project that was designed to promote the college beyond their traditional recruitment areas, which meant a lot more work on his off-hours, and thus less time for writing. And to top it all off, he had niggling doubts all day about Buffy.

He slammed into his kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and the refrigerator as hard as he wanted, needing the noise. Needing to release some of the tension he felt about Buffy. He could already tell he was falling head-first for her. Of course, he normally fell hard and fast for a girl when she caught his interest, but he'd never gone into a free fall like this before.

Will dropped a plate, and roared as it broke into pieces all over the floor. "Bloody fuck!" he ranted, nearly pounding his fist through the countertop. Forgetting all thoughts of dinner, he stalked out of the kitchen and went to his study, plopped down at his desk, and pulled the phone towards him. He dialed Buffy's number, consciously trying to keep his breathing under control.

"Hello?"

Will paused, feeling thrown for a loop. It sounded like he'd gotten Buffy's sister. "Um, Dawn, right?"

"Yep. Who's this?"

"I'm Will--I'm a friend of Buffy's?" he said, cringing at the way he sounded. The next thing you knew, he'd be an even bigger ponce and ask Dawn if Buffy had talked about him.

"Ohhhh," Dawn said, her voice becoming more cheerful. "Buffy's 'friend'. So, Will, what did you do to my sister, to turn her into a human being? Although if we're gonna get into NC-17 territory, you might want to withhold the details."

Will opened and closed his mouth, thrown for a loop. He then heard the sound of voices and what sounded like a small fight over the phone, before Buffy's flustered voice came through the phone. "You know, she's regressing to a 12 year-old more and more every day. I'm starting to get a bit concerned. She might need to go to a doctor, or get an 8 o'clock curfew."

Will could hear Dawn's voice fading in the background, before he managed to say, "Um, hi, Buffy."

"Don't worry, I'm in my room now, and Dawn's gotten the hint, I think, to knock it off. So how are you doing?" she asked cheerfully.

He groaned. "Awful. I was going to wait till later to call you, but I knew if I didn't calm down, I was gonna do something stupid."

"Oh, Will. How stupid are we talking about?"

He smiled at both her concern and her question. "'Punch my hand through a wall' stupid. You'd think I'd learn after the second broken finger, but I'm a slow learner in that aspect."

He could hear Buffy 'hmmm' into the phone. "So what made today so bad?"

"Just a little bit of everything, but the worst part was that I got this new assignment at work, and it means I'll have less time for writing. And I feel like I'm really getting somewhere with this latest idea."

"That must suck. I've had periods where what I wanted conflicted with what I had to do--actually, that's the story of my life. So I feel your pain and all that."

Will smiled. "Appreciated, pet. Do I at least have the satisfaction of knowing that your day went well?"

He could almost picture her bouncing on her bed, she sounded so happy. "Oh my God, Will! I had the best day. I made a ton of sales, and then I came up with a great angle for my paper that I'm sure will blow my professor out of the water. And it's all because of you, I know it."

"Guess it's just a case that I gave away all my luck to you."

"Well, you're just too nice, then. Keep some for yourself. I want you to get super successful, so that I can feel all important for knowing a distinguished writer who's also-" Buffy stopped herself mid-sentence.

"Who's also what, Buffy?" he asked, curious. When she mumbled something into the phone, he said, "What was that?"

He heard her sigh, and then she said, "A distinguished writer who's also too damn attractive."

Will felt a smile spread across his face. "Attractive, huh?"

"Well, you have looked in a mirror lately, I'm sure you know that you're gorgeous." Her voice was tinged with irritation, but he sensed that it was directed more at herself than at him.

"Love, the feeling is more than mutual. And you've just made my day."

Will smiled into the phone, loving talking to her. Loving hearing her voice, sounding a bit shy when she said, "Okay, new topic before the sappiness overwhelms this phone call and dooms it."

He laughed, and said, "Ball's in your court, love."

"Okay," she said, pausing for a moment. "What's England like? I had a mentor when I was growing up who's English, but we never really talked about what it was like, and I've never even been out of California."

"Now that is just criminal, if I do say so myself. We'll have to rectify that at some point," he said, not letting himself panic over suggesting mutual vacations and implying a deeper relationship between them.

He leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes so he could see the images he was remembering more clearly. "England's so different from here. First off, there's the rain. It rains a little every day. No rhyme or reason to the when or how long; you'll be walking along and the skies will just open up with a soft, fine rain. Because of the rain, it's so green in the parks. I grew up in London, and I made some trips into Kent, and Derbyshire, and even to my eyes, it was a green that seemed bigger than the word, you know?"

Buffy sighed a bit into the phone, and said, "Go on."

"And there's the food. Everyone makes jokes about English cooking, but there's nothing like it when you want to get comfort out of what you're putting in your mouth. Even now, if I'm feeling a bit down, I'll go visit my mum, and she'll make Yorkshire pudding for me, and we'll have scones with plenty of cream and jam. And real scones, mind you, light and soft, none of this heavy-ass American pastry. Of course, I break tradition by having a Guinness with it all, rather than a cup of tea."

She giggled, and asked, "You're really close to your mom, aren't you? I envy you that."

Will paused, struck by the note of sadness in her voice. "What about you and your mother?"

"Oh, we had the usual rough patches when I was younger, especially with my parents' divorce and our move to Sunnydale. But, it's your mom, you know? No matter how mad you are at her, you still love her." She sighed again, and said, with a catch of her voice, "My mom died about three and a half years ago. It was really sudden, and I didn't . . . adjust very well to being the grown-up and responsible for Dawn, especially since I was only twenty-one."

"What about your father?"

Buffy snorted. "I haven't seen him since I was 15. He's been too busy living in Spain with his new wife, who's only two years older than me."

"Oh, pet," Will said, feeling his heart ache for her. "It's so tough to lose someone you love. And then to have someone else to take care of, too . . . didn't you have any help?"

"I was lucky enough to have my friends, and Giles--that's the mentor I was talking about earlier--to help out with some money and lots of help around the house. It might not have been enough at the time, but we still made it through. And because of all that, I think Dawn and I are both better for it, and we've certainly got a bond that can't be broken."

"Still, I'm sorry. It sounds like something that affects you a lot," Will said, wishing that he could do more than offer sympathy to her.

"It does. Even now, I'll see something, or hear a joke, and my first thought is, 'Mom would love that!' And then I remember that I can't tell her, can't show her. Never easy."

Will bit his lip, feeling awkward. "Hey, I'll suggest a topic change now," he blurted out. "What are you doing next weekend?"

"Not this weekend, but next weekend?"

"Yeah."

"Um, well, nothing much. Some work, I think, but no schoolwork."

"Well . . ." he said, crossing his fingers that this would work out, "Would you mind if I invited myself up? I'd love to get a chance to see you again, and to meet Dawn."

"I could come down to San Diego . . . "

"Nah, it's all right. I'll probably take off from work a day early and go visit my mother, actually. I'd be staying with her anyways, so it'll all work out."

"Well, I don't know. Give away all your good-day karma to me, braving the freeways to see me, and willing to meet my sister. I'm becoming worried that you're too good to be true."

Will chuckled. Despite the rough spots in their conversation, he felt like they were connecting. They weren't just floating along on witty quips and surface discussion; they were finding out about each other. And Will, for one, just wanted to know more about Buffy.

"Don't have anything to worry about, love. You can pinch me when I visit, make sure I'm real."

"Ooo, and I know just the place to pinch you," she said, and he could picture the devilish grin on her face. "And I think that's just the right amount of ego stroking for you. Don't want you to get such a good idea of yourself, you get all cocky and run off after some supermodel."

"Not in a million years, love. I'd probably just run off after you."

She sighed into the phone. "Okay, there's the sappiness again. I can't wait to see you again."

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Ditto. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she said. "Um, I just want to say--I was kinda worried that I had moved too fast on Saturday, but it's only because . . . well, I wanted you to know--I like you." She laughed weakly. "I didn't mean to just blurt that out, but it just had to come out."

Will felt his heart beat a bit faster. "Well, I like you too. A lot. Make you feel any better, to not be out there all alone?"

"Yeah, it does." She paused. "Okay, I have to go, before I let my mouth say things that my brain is determined to keep secret, for now at least."

Will chuckled again. "Right there with you on that one. Must keep my air of mystery, you know--it's a big part of this British charm."

"You keep talking about 'British charm', but I've yet to see any of it. Perhaps it'll make an appearance next weekend?" Buffy teased.

"Annoying chit," he muttered, hearing her laugh. "I'll call you tomorrow, love."

"Night, Will."

Will dropped the phone into the cradle, and propped his chin up on his hands, staring out the window. "Will my boy, you are getting into serious relationship territory," he commented.

And then he smiled. "And I love it."

End, Chapter Four

 

What is Choice?
Chapter Five: Time Makes You Bolder

Will was trying to remember if he had ever been this nervous. Maybe the first time he kissed a girl. Maybe when he had first moved here from England. Maybe the first time he drove on the "wrong" side of the road. Maybe the first time he had sent a story to The New Yorker.

Nope, he was pretty sure that he had never been this nervous. And he was the one who had gotten himself into this mess.

Will rubbed his hands against the steering wheel as he drove towards his mother's house. He had been looking forward to this weekend with way too much anticipation and excitement. He was almost worried that he was gonna screw this up, because there was no way anything he wanted this much would turn out well.

As he pulled into the driveway of the small bungalow his mother lived in, he forced himself to calm down. This weekend represented a chance to see Buffy, and get a deeper look at her life. Figure out if this was a girl who was worth pursuing, worth making changes for.

"Like you don't already know the answer to that one, mate," he muttered to himself as he pulled his bags out of his trunk and walked up to the front door.

He didn't even have to ring the bell before his mother had flung open the door. "Will! I was so happy when I got your message, saying you were coming up for the weekend." She stood to the side as he walked inside and dropped his bag in the hallway.

Anne Smythe was a beautiful woman. The years of illness, now far behind her, had not altered her sweet face, or made her any less lovely to him. He gave her a quick, strong hug. "Mum." He was surprised to find that he felt almost like tearing up. Maybe all that talk with Buffy about mothers, and her loss, made him appreciate his own mother all the more, especially now that he had her here, in front of him, the scent of her perfume rising to meet him.

Will pulled away, and said, "You're looking lovelier every day. You don't have some boyfriend around here to put those roses in your cheeks now, do you?"

Anne smiled, but gave her son a knowing look. "No, but funny you should mention romance. What's she like?"

Will frowned. "What? What are you talking about? What she?"

Anne's smile widened. "The girl that's got you all happy. I could tell as soon as I saw you."

Will stared at his mother. "That's just brilliant. How do mums do that?"

"They teach us it special, darling, right after showing us how to tell when your child is lying to you," Anne smirked, patting her son on the cheek. "Come on inside--I didn't have the time for Yorkshire pudding, but I know my boy well enough to have scones. Want to spoil your dinner?" she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Will grinned back at her. "Of course." He closed the door, and followed his mother into the kitchen. Taking a seat at the island, he said, "I'll spill, but only because otherwise I'd feel guilty about staying with you and not telling you where I'd be disappearing to."

"Yes, son," Anne said, her voice serious but her eyes full of mirth.

Will rolled his eyes, but started talking. "Her name's Buffy. She's a friend of a friend; I met her when she and her friend Xander were visiting Rich. She's a few years younger than me, and she lives up here. She's got a younger sister that she's bringing up on her own--can you believe it, when their mother died, not only did their father not come to the funeral, she still hasn't heard from him in all this time? Tosser. I can't imagine how she got through it. She said her friends helped some, but still, it must not be the same, to know that your mother is gone."

Anne had drawn near with a plate of scones, and Will leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm so glad to have you, Mum."

Anne smiled at him. "And I you, dear. Buffy, you said? Poor girl. But, I guess when in Rome . . . I've always found some of these poor girls here have the most dreadful names."

Will shrugged, and tried not to blush when he said, "I don't know . . . it kinda suits her, I think. I mean, the very fact that it's such an odd name, and all. And you look at her, and you think she's your typical California girl, but underneath all that surface stuff, she's the strongest woman I've ever met. So her name fits her because it doesn't fit her." He stopped when he saw the look on his mother's face. "What? I know I was babbling, you don't have to tell me that."

Anne sighed, before placing her hand over his. "No, dear. It's just so nice to hear you talk about anyone like this. And the fact that you're so secure about it that you will talk and express how you really feel. I'm so proud of you, and happy."

Will turned his hand over, and gave his mother's hand a squeeze. Silence fell between them for a moment, before his mother squeezed back and moved to get the tea things set out. The quiet was broken when she said, "So, are you going to desert me all weekend, then?" The smile on her face told him that she was teasing.

"Well . . ." he said. "Buffy has to work tomorrow morning, until about 2, she said. And she's working today, but we had planned that I'd pick her up at work and then we'd go out to dinner, before going back to her place so I could meet Dawn--that's her sister. Tomorrow night, we're going to the Getty and walk around the gardens and such. Then, on Sunday, we're probably going to do breakfast and everything before I leave. Would you like to join us for breakfast on Sunday?"

"Oh, Will, that's so thoughtful. I'd be happy to join the two of you." She rustled around with the teacups, before speaking again. "It sounds like a lovely weekend for the both of you. How long ago did you meet?"

Will bit his lip. "Well, only about two weeks. But we've been talking on the phone nearly every day, and . . . Mum, she's just so amazing. Part of me wants to spend as much time with her as I can, because I just want to know everything about her. But another part of me says to take it slow, to not rush things, because it's so easy to bollocks things up at the beginning, and you can never recover from that."

Anne came back over to the island, and once again patted his hand. "You're thinking about this, which is always a good sign. You've been so prone to just following your feelings, when you should have taken a moment to think about things. Like with Drusilla," Anne said with a frown.

Will sighed. "Mum, can we please not talk about her? For one thing, she's in the past, and for another thing, I'm well aware of how you feel about her."

Anne sniffed. "Well, when you come home to find an older woman in the middle of deflowering your only son, your only child, on your living room sofa, you quickly form ideas of her character."

"Oh, Mum," Will groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "If you want to dredge up embarrassing incidents from my life, can't we confine them to the ones where I'm also kind of sweet and charming, like the poetry? Wait, no--the poetry was crap . . . um, what about that time with the teacher that I tried to bake cookies for?"

Anne smiled at her son. "Never fear. I promise that when I meet this vision of perfection known as Buffy, I'll keep the embarrassing stories and the baby pictures to a minimum." At his look of relief, she tacked on, "At first."

Will groaned again, and she laughed as she brought the kettle over and poured the hot water over the tea in his cup. "Let your mother have some fun. Now drink your tea, eat your scone, and tell me more about this new idea you were telling me about, the one that's developing into the perfect book. Then you can go fetch your young lady."

**

Will tugged a bit at his shirt as he walked through the elaborate department store. He felt underdressed, in his well-worn jeans and black t-shirt. But after all, it wasn't like he had to dress up for Buffy . . .

Besides, he knew he looked damn good.

With a smile, he saw the sign for Ladies' Eveningwear and moved towards the registers. Although he wasn't tall, he was able to spot her blonde hair, and his heart tapped out a few quick beats.

Her back was to him as he approached, and he nearly went with his first impulse of wrapping his arms around her, only stopping because he noticed she was talking with an attractive redhead that he assumed was a customer. Until he drew near and heard what Buffy was saying.

"God, Willow, you have no idea how happy he's made me. We've been talking so much, and you know how much talking is not a normal Buffy thing."

The redhead nodded and said, "Talking and Buffy, like oil and fire: mix at your own risk."

Buffy groaned. "I'm not that bad, Will. Sheesh. Anyway, he's just so great, and have I mentioned he's gorgeous?"

Will stood behind Buffy, and caught the redhead's eye. Buffy, babbling away, didn't notice when Willow winked at him and interrupted Buffy's stream of words. "Buff?"

Buffy paused, sounding dazed when she said, "Yea-huh?"

"When you say gorgeous, what kind of gorgeous? Tall, dark and handsome? Brad Pitt-esque? Based on the way you've been babbling--"

"I do not babble." At Willow's look, Buffy said, "Much."

Willow continued. "Based on the way you've been babbling, I'd say not too tall but very fit, curly hair, cheekbones you could cut glass with, and the most beautiful set of blue eyes you've ever seen."

Buffy sounded surprised when she said, "How'd you know . . ." only to trail off when Will placed his hands on her shoulders. She whirled around, and the look on her face made his heart beat even harder.

"Will!" she exclaimed, before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. He nearly winced at the grip she had on him, but instead just enjoyed how close she was to him. God, it had been way too long since they had kissed . . .

Buffy pulled away, but kept one arm wrapped around his waist. The smile on her face nearly blinded him. "You're early! I wasn't expecting you for another half hour. Don't tell me you skipped out on your mom to see me, because that is just not nice."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, Mum's all taken care of. She's already promising to pull out the baby pictures and all the cringe-worthy stories when she meets you."

Buffy grinned. "Awww, I bet you were a cute baby. All curly-haired and dimpled."

Buffy's friend suddenly cleared her throat, and Buffy jumped. "Oh, Willow! Will, I want you to meet Willow; she's one of my best friends. Will, this is Will . . . oh, this could get confusing. Um, well, anyway, Willow, this is Will."

Will smiled and held out his hand to Willow. "Thanks for helping me surprise her."

Willow grinned at him. "My pleasure. And goodness, I can see why she babbled."

Will tried very hard not to blush, as Buffy giggled.

"Willow! You're impossible." Buffy turned to Will and said, "Do you mind just hanging around for a bit? I've got a few things to take care of before I leave, but I can't really talk to you unless you're an actual customer."

"I can take him to the food court. Tell him all the things he really wants to know about Buffy Summers," Willow offered, an evil gleam in her eye.

Will grinned at the deer-in-the-headlights expression on Buffy's face, but before she could start sputtering out some answer, he stepped in. "That's nice of you, Willow, but I think I'd rather just hang around here. But can you give me a raincheck?" he said, giving her a quick wink.

Willow laughed. "Of course." She gave Buffy a quick hug and whispered something in her ear, before dashing away with a laugh when Buffy went to give her a quick slap on the arm.

Buffy looked at Will, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I'd tell you that I stay friends with her only to keep her from talking, but it appears that the plan isn't working." Will smiled at her, and she continued. "Anyway, give me about twenty minutes, and I'll be good to go. Now shoo--I can't concentrate with you here."

Will took a step towards her, and leaned down into her personal space. He could hear her breath catch, and he worked hard to keep his own breathing under control. Would really spoil the effect if he was gasping like a sprinter after the hundred-yard dash. "Well, we can't have that, love. I'll be back in twenty." He hovered in front of her for a moment, before dropping a kiss on her cheek and walking away.

As he walked towards the escalators that would take him to the second floor and men's apparel, he heard her let out a huge breath and say, "Wow."

He spent the next twenty minutes with a huge smile on his face.

**

As Will followed Buffy to her apartment, he couldn't help thinking that Buffy was just a fantastic girl. During dinner, she had kept him laughing with her one-liners and her unusual perspective on life and society. More than once, he had just wanted to pull her onto his lap and kiss her breathless, because she was just so delightful that a kiss seemed to be the only way he could tell her how he felt. Somehow, he had managed to restrain himself to large smiles and a few hand squeezes. But it was getting more difficult as the evening went on . . .

Buffy's apartment was in a large, well-maintained building not that far from where she worked. When he pulled into a parking space next to hers, he noticed that she was still sitting in her car. She seemed to be gripping the wheel, breathing forcefully like she was having a panic attack. He quickly got out of his car and went over to hers. She noticed him standing there, and got out of the car.

"Sorry," she said, keeping her eyes averted. "Just . . . it all got to be too much for me."

Will frowned, feeling a bit insecure and very nervous. "Are you all right, love? Is there anything I can do?"

Buffy looked up at him. She seemed to be trying to decide what to say. Suddenly, she said, "Kiss me."

Before Will could think things through, he leaned down and covered her mouth with his own. Her request had sent all his thoughts scattering like the wind, and then the feel of her lips . . . well, it was no wonder all the blood had left his brain.

This kiss was a little sloppy, their noses bumping, as they got reacquainted with each other. He let his hands rest on her hips, rubbing small circles there, as her hands wrapped around his neck. When he finally pulled away, he found that he had pushed her against her car, and she seemed to be leaning heavily against it, like her legs didn't support her.

He smirked a bit. 'Oh, yeah, still got it,' he thought to himself, especially when he took in her flushed face.

She sighed, then smiled sadly. "I needed that." She made to move away, but Will held her in place.

"Love? What's really wrong?"

Buffy sighed again, and rested her forehead against his chest. "I don't know. Just, all of a sudden, I felt this wave of . . . I don't know, I guess sadness. Like I once had the chance to do something, and didn't, and I regretted it. And when I saw you, it got stronger. So I thought a kiss would help."

He raised one of his hands, and brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. "And did it?"

Buffy smiled, a proper one this time. "It did. Really, Will. I'm sorry for freaking out like that. Just never felt anything like that before."

Will dropped a quick kiss on her lips, and then moved away, taking one of her hands in his. "Nothing to apologize about, love. Feel free to ask me to kiss you whenever you need it. Not a hardship for me to do that." He grinned at her, and she grinned back.

"Come on, oh cocky one. You're about to be cut down to your own size," she said, pulling him toward her building.

"How's that?" he asked.

She flashed him a truly evil smirk. "You're about to meet my sister."

Will quickly discovered that Buffy wasn't joking. As soon as they walked into the apartment, Dawn was on them like a Man U fan attacking Beckham.

She was standing in front of the door, and watched them walk in. Will gulped when he saw her. She was nearly as tall as him, with long brown hair and a set of huge blue eyes. Said eyes were currently zeroed in on her sister and this guy she had brought home. Buffy paused when she saw her sister.

"Hey, Dawnie. I want you to meet Will. Will, this is Dawn, although I'm sure her voice will be familiar to you, from her many phone interruptions." Buffy shot a good-natured scowl at her sister, before dropping Will's hand to shrug out of her jacket.

"So, this is the guy who's made my sister all giddy." Dawn took a step towards him, and then walked around him, studying him like he was a bug under a microscope. "Well, he's certainly promising in the looks department."

"Dawn," Buffy warned from the hall, where she was hanging up her jacket and flipping through the mail. "Be nice, or we might have to have a talk about that leather jacket you've been eyeing . . . "

Dawn snorted. "Oh, please. I'm so badder than you. I have no worries. Besides," she said, looking at Will. "If he crumples with me, you know that any relationship would have been doomed."

"Because the Dawn is all-knowing," Buffy shot back flippantly.

Will decided that he had to take at least a bit of control before he was lost in the shuffle. He stepped forward and extended his hand. "Dawn, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Polite. Good," Dawn said, as she shook his hand. "Accent, always a plus, and like I said, you're attractive and have made Buffy unbelievably happy lately. She's very nearly human." Dawn's serious expression broke, and a huge smile covered her face. "Okay, you pass. Buffy, come put him out of his misery."

Will sighed and rolled his eyes. "You could have warned me," Will said, leaning down to whisper in Buffy's ear when she rejoined him. "Or at least watched my back! I was ready for her to set me on fire or something."

Buffy whispered back, "Classic interrogation technique. I had to leave you alone with her, or else I'd never hear the end of it from her. About how I had to protect the poor little man. Don't worry, you passed with flying colors. Now let's go make with the hanging out, and she'll get bored after a while and leave us alone."

Will gulped a bit as he followed Buffy into the living room. Buffy seemed to be all smiles and flirtatious winks now, a huge contrast from her behavior in the parking lot. But since he currently felt enough of an endorphin rush that he could run a marathon, after that little grilling from Dawn, he knew he wasn't thinking too clearly. Besides, she wanted to be alone with him. Any blood that had returned to his brain had made a quick exit at that phrase.

The three of them sat together in the living room. Dawn had taken a wing chair, and she sat with her legs over one arm as she rapidly channel-surfed. Will and Buffy sat on the couch, and it wasn't long before Buffy had leaned against him, letting her eyes droop. Dawn looked up, and smiled at Will.

"Works like a charm every time. Feed her, and then subject her to flashing lights, and she drops off like a baby," Dawn said in a low voice.

"Good to know," Will said, shifting a bit so that Buffy could lay down more on the couch and use him as a pillow. "So, you're in your last year of school?"

Dawn nodded. "I've got four more weeks of school, and it can't end soon enough. I'm planning on taking some classes at UCLA in the fall, but I'll be getting a job, too, like Buffy. We were lucky to get some help from a family friend, after we left Sunnydale, so we're doing all right."

Will nodded. "Any thoughts about what you want to study?"

Dawn grinned. "It drives Buffy crazy, but I want to study landscaping and garden design. She keeps muttering something about 'checking the shrub box' when I bring it up."

Will chuckled softly, before becoming serious. "Landscape design, huh? I suppose you want to travel some, places like Versailles and what all."

Dawn turned towards him, losing interest in the TV. "Yeah, how'd you guess? If I can get into the program at UCLA, I can do an internship in England and France for my junior year. That's another reason Buffy was all twitchy about it at first; her baby sister, on her own in another country. But she's seemed more laid-back about it lately. I suspect that's 'cause she's spending all her worrying time thinking about you."

"Huh?" Will said. "I didn't think we were at a worrying stage yet . . . "

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Guys. All the same. Girls start worrying about five minutes after meeting a guy--two, if he's really cute."

"Huh," Will said, a bit surprised. "Well, she's got nothing to worry about."

Dawn flashed a Mona Lisa smile at him. "I know. I can tell." She turned back to the TV and her surfing. "Oh, look! Notting Hill! Hugh Grant, and a garden. Perfect."

Will snorted. "Nancy boy tosser."

Dawn screwed around in her chair to look at him. "That sounds like an insult from your tone, but since I'm not sure that combination of words means anything in English, I'll just have to go with my gut instinct."

Will grinned at her, before scowling at the screen. "You Americans, you hear an accent coming out of that pretty boy and you get all fluttery. I can assure you, pet, that Hugh Grant does not represent your Englishman on the street."

"Uh-huh," Dawn said. "You're probably just jealous. You wish you could talk like him, because British people are all stuffy and class-conscious. 'Oh, my accent is so polished and upper-crust'."

"Hey, now," Will said, "I can talk like him."

Dawn looked at him. "Five bucks says you can't."

Will straightened up. "My word, this is a fine flat. Just lovely. Your sister and yourself keep it so well, it's truly a wonder."

By the end of his speech, Dawn was trying to muffle her giggles. "Oh, you sound so funny! Too bad Buffy was asleep for that."

Will snorted. "Yeah, because that was her only chance of hearing it. She'll just have to make do with my normal voice."

Dawn grinned at him, sensing that she had ruffled his feathers. "Don't worry, Buffy is quite taken with your voice. I heard her telling Willow about it."

Will grinned at Dawn. "So, since I passed the inspection, I get to pump you for info?"

Dawn nodded. "Yep. All part of the sister code. So what do you want to know?"

And as the evening drew to a close, Buffy dozed on Will's lap, Will introduced Dawn to Monty Python via a re-run on the local public television station, and Dawn gave Will several interesting tidbits about Buffy's behavior over the past two weeks.

Will looked at the two women that were sharing this small apartment. At the angel sleeping by his side, and the little devil who was currently watching MTV and making quiet observations on the state of music today. And he thought to himself, 'There is no place I'd rather be.'

**

By 11:30, Will could feel his own eyelids dropping shut more often, and he decided it was time to go. Dawn had gone into her bedroom, leaving the two of them alone. But Will hadn't had the heart to wake Buffy, so he had remained where he was, occasionally watching a bit of any program that caught his eye, but watching Buffy more.

She looked so peaceful in her sleep. He wished that he could stay here, and curl up next to her. Let their bodies fall into the same rhythyms as they both slumbered, perhaps even sharing the same dreams. But he knew that not only was that enough to send Buffy skittering away, he also knew his mother would be worried. So, he leaned down, and dropped a kiss on Buffy's cheek. "Love, wake up."

Buffy mumbled, before rolling over and looking up at him. She blinked a few times, and said, "Oh, what a crappy date I am. I fall asleep on you." She scrambled up, running a hand through her hair and wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "I've just been working so much, and between that and classes and getting ready for your visit, I guess I was more tired than I thought."

Will smiled, and kissed her again. "No worries, love. Dawn and I were able to entertain ourselves just fine. Besides, you look like a princess when you're sleeping."

Buffy smiled at him, moving closer towards him. "A princess, huh? Pretty nice."

"Gotta make sure you get your ration of sweet talk," Will said, raising his hand and running it lightly over her face. She closed her eyes and sighed, and Will took advantage of this and leaned forward, kissing her deeply.

The kisses they exchanged were soft and warm, with small sighs and moans slipping out from both of them. After a few minutes, though, Will pulled away. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to get going. Have to make sure my girl gets her beauty sleep." He stood, and had turned the TV off and dropped the remote on the table, before he realized she was still sitting on the couch, staring up at him.

In a small voice, she said, "I'm your girl?"

Will dropped back down on the couch. "Of course, pet. I'm a monogamous type; I find someone I like and I stick around until she throws me out on the street."

Buffy smiled at him, and she cupped his face in her hand. Her thumb brushed against his lips, and she dreamily said, "And you're my guy."

Will's breath caught. He understood, now, why she had seemed so knocked for a loop a minute earlier. He cleared his throat, and said, "It sounds good."

She nodded at him, a bit amused. "It does," she said, before she placed a delicate kiss on his lips. "I'll walk you to the door."

She tugged him up off the couch, and together they walked down the hall. As they approached the door, Will felt his heart clenching. He really, really, really wanted to stay. Every impulse he felt, every muscle in his body, seemed to push him towards her and not the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he choked out.

"Around four," Buffy confirmed, smiling that lovely, peaceful smile at him.

Suddenly, he just had to kiss her. Had to wrap his arms around her, and push her against the door, letting his mouth devour her. She came closer to him, standing on tip-toe, and then her body was pressing against his. He felt frantic, like he had to take in as much of her essence as he could. Like this could be his last chance . . .

And just as quickly as the feeling had come over him, it faded away. The kiss slowed and gentled, and they finally pulled away, their chests heaving and their eyes glazed.

Buffy was the first one to speak. "If that's the way you always say goodbye, it almost makes your leaving a good thing."

Will shook his head, and let out a rueful laugh. "Sorry, love. Don't know what came over me. But I assure you," he said, letting a smirk come through, "I'll make the hello kiss even better."

Buffy smiled back at him. "I look forward to it. Good night, Will." She leaned up and pecked his lips, before opening the door.

"Night, Buffy. See you tomorrow," he said, and he walked out the door.

As Will walked down the stairs, he shook his head at how the evening had gone. And that kiss at the end . . . amazing, but a bit terrifying. He had never felt that way with anyone. Not even Drusilla, whom he had loved with a burning passion. It made him wonder.

But as he left the building, and headed towards his car, he let his thoughts drift away from that odd experience, and look forward to the future. The future he knew he was going to share with Buffy.

End, Chapter Five
 

What is Choice?
Chapter Six: We Slip and Slide as We Fall in Love

At moments during the past two months, Buffy had closed her eyes and wondered if there was some higher power she could thank for what she had in her life.

Because for the first time in her memory, she was completely happy.

Her job was going well. School was good. Dawn was getting good grades and was cheerful and optimistic.

And out of all the good things in her life right now, Will was the best thing.

She couldn't believe that she was actually involved in a healthy, adult relationship. She had always been afraid, since Angel, that she'd never be able to have another relationship that came close to that first love. She knew that was definitely the problem with Riley; although he had loved her, she couldn't love him because she was still dealing with her feelings for Angel, not to mention all the baggage from being a Slayer in love with a vampire. She had dated after Riley had left, and in the time since the Hellmouth had been closed, but no one ever seemed to capture her interest, much less make her want to open up.

Will, however . . . being around him was like being given truth serum. It wasn't that she found herself confessing all her dark secrets to him, although on occasion, something she'd prefer to keep hidden did slip out. No, it was more that being with him allowed her to be true to herself for the first time in her life. She had never really felt like she showed the world her true face, not even when she was with Willow or Xander or even Dawn. At one time, she'd been pretty honest with Giles, but the fall-out from their disagreements over how to battle the First had affected that relationship, and she no longer felt secure with him.

Yet she just had to walk into a room, and see Will, and she could feel her masks falling away. Suddenly, she wasn't just a young woman with eyes much older than they should be. She wasn't using her duty and responsibilities to hide her feelings, or express them in a way that she felt comfortable with but wasn't enough for the recipient. Instead, she was just Buffy. Someone who was strong, both emotionally and physically. Someone who knew what she wanted, and knew how to make someone happy.

Of course, she hadn't let all her secrets out. She still hadn't told Will about her past. He knew that she had lived in Sunnydale, and had managed to get out in the nick of time, before the "sinkhole" devoured the town. But she hadn't explained why she had stayed till the last minute, when everyone else had been "evacuated". No, her life as a Slayer had remained carefully concealed from Will. She just couldn't think about how to broach the subject with him. He was open-minded, sure, but was he open-minded enough to accept the idea that vampires were real? That she had super-human strength? That there was always the chance that she'd be needed to help stop an apocalypse, and she could die? No, that was a topic of discussion that Buffy prefered to ignore. She had a great life now, with all the things that a girl could want: job, apartment, school, family, and boyfriend. Why jinx things?

Buffy let her thoughts move away from such troubling matters to happier memories. Their first weekend together had been wonderful. Her minor freak-out aside, she had felt so comfortable with him. They had a wonderful time on Saturday night, having dinner and then visiting the Getty Museum, taking in the lovely views of Los Angeles. Before Will had left on Sunday, they had brunch together. She had been nervous about meeting his mother, but Mrs. Smythe, or Anne as she insisted that Buffy call her, had been a lovely woman.

And when they said goodbye, he had given her a kiss that still made her toes curl when she thought about it.

That was what made her the happiest about their relationship: she felt so at ease with him. During their long phone calls, they could talk about anything. He'd mention his book, and how well it was going, and even asked for her advice at times. It was so flattering, to know that he wanted her opinion. To make it even better, he excited her more than any man ever had. Some times, he just had to look at her, and she could feel her muscles clenching, her arousal hitting her like a freight train.

Buffy sighed and gazed out the window, ignoring the economics textbook that sat in front of her on the kitchen table. After that weekend, she had known that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Will. Phone calls weren't enough, even when they lasted for two and a half hours and forced her to work extra hours so she could afford the long distance bill. The Fates had smiled on her, and two weeks later, she had a free weekend. So she went down to San Diego, with hope in her heart, butterflies in her stomach, and her sexiest lingerie in her overnight bag.

The Friday night she arrived, they had gone out for dinner at a seafood place near Will's house. The restaurant faced the water, with large windows that gave the place an airy, casual feel. Buffy felt overdressed at first, but every time she looked at Will, his eyes told her that she was beautiful. Anytime her nerves started twitching, she looked at him and felt her self-confidence rise. He made her feel like she had a power greater than Slayer strength: her personality, her looks, her soul, seemed to work some kind of magic over him. But it was a mutual feeling; she was under his spell just as much as he was under hers.

The night progressed, and she was caught in a hazy, languid dream-like state, full of steamy looks and lingering touches. He fed her shrimp, and she sucked on his fingers, saying it was to get the last of the cocktail sauce, but really because she just wanted to taste him. They ate lobster, letting the butter trickle down their chins only to be wiped away by the other's fingers. Dessert was a sinfully rich chocolate cake. Buffy lifted a piece of cake to his mouth, and when he took the fork into his mouth, gazing at her as he dragged his lips from the utensil, she toyed with the desire to knock the table aside and attack him.

Instead, she waited until they got back to his house, and then attacked him.

God, it was good between them. She wasn't that experienced, and she'd certainly never explored her sexuality. None of her boyfriends in the past seemed eager to go beyond the basics, so she'd just made do. But Will seemed intent to find any spot on her body that gave her pleasure, and then lick, stroke, kiss, or otherwise touch each of those spots as often as he could. And when he finally slid into her, they both stilled, staring into each other's eyes. It was like finding a beautiful pearl after looking in a sea of oysters. She nearly started crying, because it was so sweet and tender and hot and blissful and sad. But she just wrapped her arms around him, and said, "When you touch me, I want to live forever."

Will groaned, his eyes dropping shut, before he started moving. He leaned down and kissed her, and his voice was strained when he said, "It's . . . like . . . I can only . . . breathe . . . when I'm with . . . you." His gasps punctuated his statement, and she kissed his eyelids, wishing she could somehow draw him even closer to her.

After that, there was no way in hell that she was letting him get away. She had woken up the next morning, to find he had snuggled up against her, his hand laying across her stomach. The only thought in her head was, 'I can't ever give this up.' So they had spent that weekend in bed, occasionally venturing out for food or a short trip to the beach. The weekend had been full of sex, yes, but there also smiles and jokes and those post-coital conversations where anything and everything seemed to take on a new significance and importance.

Ever since, they had managed to see each other nearly every weekend. Even if it was only for a day, due to work schedules and other responsibilities, they managed to sneak away and find time to be together. Sometimes, they didn't even make love; they would just fall asleep together. Yet she always had the same thought when she woke up: 'I can't mess this up.'

Her happiness seemed only matched by her fears. She worried that he would get in an accident on his way to see her. She wondered if she was enough for him. She feared that he would sell his book, become world-famous, and decide to hook up with the women who'd be throwing themselves at him. She even fretted that one day, he would get tired of dealing with a woman who was raising an always-underfoot teenager and find someone else with less complications. Buffy knew that he liked and cared about Dawn, and he had made no secret of how happy she made him, both in and out of bed. So she didn't know why she worried so much. Yet she did.

Buffy shook her head, and tried to snap herself out of dreamland. Four chapters of economic policy and theory weren't going to get read if she spent all her time staring out the window and thinking about Will. She grinned, and muttered, "But the time would go by a lot faster then," before determinedly focusing her attention on her textbook. She had read all of one paragraph when the phone rang.

With a giggle, Buffy jumped up and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"You sound particularly happy, love," Will's voice purred through the phone. "Could it be because of a phone call from yours truly?"

She grinned as she stretched the phone cord as far as it could reach, and sat back down at the kitchen table. "Actually, it's because you've saved me from probably the driest textbook ever written, on the driest subject in existence. You could have been a telemarketer, and I would have happily listened to your pitch for aluminum siding."

"Humph," Will said. "Well, see if I talk dirty to you tonight, then."

"Don't pout, Will," she said, restraining her urge to giggle. "It's wasted if I'm not there to see it in person."

Suddenly, she heard a knock at the front door. "Oh, shoot, hold on--there's someone at the door." She dropped the phone on the table, and hurried over to the door, looking through the peephole. All she saw was red, so she frowned, slid the chain lock on, and opened the door.

Will grinned at her, thrusting a huge bouquet of roses at her. She felt her mouth drop open, and she stared at him for a moment, before quickly slamming the door shut, knocking the chain aside, and throwing the door open. She wrapped her arms around him, dimly hearing his cell phone drop to the floor. "What are you doing here? It's only Wednesday! I thought I was coming down on Saturday to see you."

Will handed her the roses, and bent over to pick up his cell phone. He moved into her apartment, and she saw that he had his overnight bag over his shoulder, as well as a bottle of champagne in his hand. "I couldn't wait, Buffy. I have such good news!"

She followed him into the kitchen, watching him drop his bag and shrug out of his jacket on the way. Once in the kitchen, he hung up her phone, grabbed two flutes out of her cabinet, and poured the champagne. He grinned at her as he handed her a glass.

"First, take a sip." She raised an eyebrow at him, but savored a bit of the bubbly wine, watching as he gulped a mouthful. Then, he took her other hand in his, and said, "I sold my book."

"Oh my God, Will!" Buffy exclaimed, not caring about the glass of champagne she held as she once again threw her arms around him. "Oh, I'm so happy for you! When did you find out?"

Will squeezed her tightly, and his voice sounded so happy when he replied. "Found out this morning, love. First thing I did was call in sick for the next couple of days, and then I hopped in the car. All I could think about was telling you."

Buffy pulled back, and kissed him, their lips caressing. They paused for breath, and she closed her eyes, and just breathed in the combination of scents that now screamed 'Will' at her. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her.

"It's all because of you that the book was finished. When I'm with you, it's like I can fly. So when I sit down to write, I just remember how you make me feel, and the words just pour out of me. God, I love you."

Buffy gasped, staring at him. Will ducked his head, blushing a bit, but kept his eyes fixed on her. He reached and found one of her hands, and squeezed it. "I love you, Buffy," he said, his voice rough.

She bit her lip, trying not to let out the tears that were forming. She couldn't believe that he was the first one to say it. He had made her so happy, made her into this new person who was very similiar to the Buffy she had been before becoming the Slayer. She owed so much to him, but she still hadn't really let him all the way into her soul, her heart. Hadn't given him the weapon of her love, a weapon that he could use to destroy her. Instead, he had given her the power. And she felt so strong, and so trusted, that there was only one choice for her, even if she felt her heart pounding and that tiny voice in the back of her head, warning her to keep her distance, that it wasn't worth the pain . . .

She cupped his cheek in her hand, and tried to make her eyes express everything that she was feeling. He was staring at her, his heart in his eyes, looking so hopeful yet so sad that she found she wasn't that scared, after all.

"I love you, too."

Will sighed happily, his hands rubbing light circles on her hips. "God, that sounds bloody amazing."

She giggled, and kissed his nose. "I love you," she said, feeling like she had just won the lottery.

He grinned at her. "And that sounds even better." He swooped down, and kissed her within an inch of her life. She wrapped her arms around his neck, relying on his strength to keep her steady. Keep her protected, keep her loved.

Buffy pulled away, and rested her forehead against his chest. "So, when do I get to see this masterpiece?" she asked, tracing his bicep.

"Tonight, if you like. I brought a print-out. Thought you could look at it in-between the gifts and massive amounts of sex I'm going to give you for the next four days."

Buffy giggled. "You don't have to give me the sex, you know. The gifts would be more than enough."

Will growled at her, and slapped her bottom lightly. "Cease and desist, woman."

Buffy laughed and pulled away from him. "Dawn's baby-sitting tonight, so she won't be home till ten. Wanna order in and veg out in front of the TV?"

"Wanted to take you out to a nice, fancy place," Will said. His eyes lit up suddenly, and he grinned at her devilishly. "But if we stay home, you could read the book and then give me massive amounts of stroking. Both my ego and . . . other parts of me."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Can we please stop thinking about sex? Gosh, you sell a book and you become a big old sex machine. You want pizza or Chinese?"

Will flashed her a huge grin, and said, "Pizza works for me. Do you mind if I take a shower, love? Book's in my bag, if you want to read."

Buffy, already on the phone, waved her hand towards her bathroom, and Will dropped a kiss on her forehead, before he pulled some clothes out of his bag and left the kitchen.

After she hung up the phone, Buffy made a beeline for his duffle bag, and found a large accordion file. She pulled it out, and happily shoved aside her economics books to make a place for the file. She looked through the various compartments, and found the first chapters.

Buffy set the papers down on the table and leaned forward, propping her chin up with her hands, her elbows set on the table. With anticipation, she started reading.

**

The sound of the shower turning off broke Buffy out of the disbelieving daze she had fallen into as she had read Will's book. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. His book . . . it was like someone had taken her life, changed some details, and made the main character male. Her introduction to her first Watcher, her battle with the Master, even Xander and Willow--it was all there.

Buffy shook her head. 'How did he know? How did he find out?' she wondered, confused and disturbed. She didn't understand what was going on. She was still working up the courage to start talking to him about her life as a Slayer, but it was like she shouldn't have worried about it, because somehow, he knew. How else could he have gotten the details so perfectly?

She felt a swirling fear churning in her belly. She was so scared. Scared that if he found out how much she had really inspired him, that he wouldn't want her anymore. Wouldn't love her. If he knew the truth about her, how could he ever accept it? No guy would be willing to be with a girl who was stronger than he was.

Plus, did being his "inspiration" mean that he was only with her because of the book? And now that the book was done, did that mean things were going to change? Was he going to leave? She couldn't bear that thought. She was finally getting her life together, and he was a big part of it--the biggest. If he had betrayed her, what did that mean?

When he walked into the kitchen, he smiled at the sight of her. "Oh, good, you're reading it! What do you think?"

It used to amaze her, how he could seem so confident but then turn on a dime and become self-conscious and unsure. She had thought it was charming and wonderful.

Now, it made her mad.

'Bastard,' she thought. 'How the hell did he find this out? Does he think this is just some game? He thinks that I'm going to stand by and let him show my past to the world, for others to laugh at? No way in hell!'

"What the hell is this?" she asked, the fear and anger affecting her so much that her voice was icy-cold.

Will looked at her in surprise. "What? It's . . . it's my book."

Buffy moved towards him, holding a page in her hand. "How'd you get the idea? What made you think, 'Hmm, a teenage boy who fights demons and vampires, assisted only by his Guide and his friends'? Why have his first battle be against a vampire older than old, with," she glanced at the paper, "'snake eyes and grape juice mouth'? How, Will?"

Will seemed surprised, and he backed up against the counter as she came even closer towards him. "I don't really know! It just came to me one day . . . I started working on it right before I met you. In fact, I wrote the first few pages the day I met you."

She turned away from him, tossing the sheet of paper on the table. "Have you been talking to Dawn? Has she been telling you about my life before? In Sunnydale?"

"What? No!" Will sputtered. When she glared at him, he said, "Well, I mean, she said she was telling me 'Buffy's dark little secrets,' but nothing like this! Just things like how much you love ice skating, and your favorite ice cream is anything with chocolate in it."

"Then who have you been talking to?" she screamed at him. She felt tears trickling down her cheeks, and she flew at him, pounding her fists into his chest. "Who told you? How did you know? How did you find out about me?" Buffy laid her head on his chest, sobbing. "I thought I was finally done baking. I thought I had gotten everything figured out. Job, school, friends, and as the cherry on top of the sundae, a wonderful, sexy, caring boyfriend." She sniffed, and pushed herself away from him, not caring about the confused, stricken look on his face.

Buffy didn't care about anything except the pain she felt. She had been betrayed by someone, one of her nearest and dearest. He had found out about her. She didn't know why he taunted her over her failures with the cruel trick of the book, but she couldn't bear this. Couldn't bear the thought that her dream, of happy ever after and a normal life, was ending.

She felt Will's hands on her shoulders. "Buffy, love, sweetheart, I don't understand. What do you mean, 'how did I find out about you?' Did something in the book remind you of something?"

She snorted. "Oh, yeah, the book reminded me of something. My whole life." She whirled around and faced him again, not caring that her tears had made her mascara run and that her nose was probably red. "Your little flight of fancy just happens to be my life. Sure, the main character is a guy, and there's some different names and all. But . . ." she paused, sniffing and trying to control her voice, to get rid of that telltale quaver. "But, that all happened to me. I fought a Master vampire and died. I sent my first boyfriend to hell, because sleeping with me let out his demon. I only got that far, but I'm guessing the whole book is going to be like that . . . every single one of my lowest points, my greatest failures, chronicled for other people's entertainment."

Will looked utterly amazed. "What the hell are you talking about? My book is your life?"

She merely nodded, and Will stared at her for a moment, before beginning to pace around the kitchen. He stopped after he walked the length of the kitchen a few times, and turned to look at her, his hands on his hips. His voice was incredulous, and even a bit angry. "You're saying, that everything in the book happened to you? So there's really vampires and monsters? And you, all five foot two of you, fought them?" He snorted. "What's really going on, Buffy?"

He dropped the hands from his hips, and stepped towards her, placing his hands on her arms. "Is this about what we said? Because if it was too soon, we can take a step back. But don't . . . don't use such a stupid excuse for being scared. I'm scared, too."

Buffy sighed. He didn't get it. She felt the tears forming in her eyes again. "Will, I don't know how this is possible. How you could know so much. It's impossible. And I want to trust you. I do. I just . . . can't be around you tonight. It's too much."

Will shook his head. "Buffy, no. I should stay--we can talk about this. You can tell me anything you want, ask me anything you need to know. You can't shut me out like this." He moved his hands from her arms to her face, cupping her cheeks with his hands. "Buffy, if you send me away tonight, this could be it. It'll be too easy to pull away and just let this divide us. I don't know how this has happened. I don't know if I believe you, that what I wrote is your life." He sighed, and continued. "But I'm willing to listen to you, when you explain it to me. But I need the explanations, Buffy. We have to talk this out. I can't let you break us up over this. I love you too much to let you walk away."

Buffy leaned in, resting her head on his chest again. She breathed deeply, trying to control her sobs for a moment. "Will, I just can't. Please, give me tonight. I promise you, we can talk tomorrow. I need to figure things out on my own first. Tomorrow, we can talk. If you have to tie me to the bed, we can talk about this all tomorrow. But I can't do it tonight."

Buffy stopped talking, afraid to look at him. She didn't know what to do. She knew he was right; they did need to talk. But if they did it tonight, she knew she'd say something that would destroy both of them. He had to leave. Had to leave before she made things even worse.

She felt Will's breath on her forehead. He was breathing heavily, like he was trying not to cry. She sniffed, and finally managed to pull herself together enough to look at him.

She wished she hadn't, when she saw his face. He looked devastated. Like his heart was being broken, and he didn't even know why. She felt the tears welling up again. "Oh, God, Will, please, just go. Go before I make things even worse."

Will stared at her for a moment, like he didn't understand why he was there, or what she was saying. Then, without a word, he stepped away from her. He walked into the kitchen, and she could hear him picking up his things and shuffling the papers of his book. Then, he walked out of the kitchen, and walked down the hall. He paused, and looked back towards her.

"I love you. Don't forget that."

She looked at him, then dropped her eyes. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't watch him walk out of her apartment. Walk out of her life.

She heard the door close, and she dropped to her knees. The sobs came fast, so powerful that she couldn't breathe. She wailed, unable to believe what was happening. Because despite his words, she didn't know what to remember, what to forget, what to believe.

And she kept hearing that little voice, in the back of her head, taunting her. 'Told you it'd hurt . . . never should have said 'I love you' . . . you always make them leave . . . '

**

Buffy turned, confused. The last thing she remembered, she was laying on the floor of her living room, exhausted from her sobbing. She had stared at the carpet, feeling miserable. Now, though, she seemed to be outside, in a forest.

"Welcome, Chosen One."

Buffy whirled around, and saw three women standing in front of her. They were all beautiful, and dressed in . . . togas?

Buffy frowned. "Okay, this is a very weird dream. I was in the middle of a personal crisis, and while it's nice to get a break, this isn't exactly what I would have thought I'd get."

One of the women sighed and rolled her eyes. She stage-whispered, "This is why I don't like dealing with mortals. Such limited comprehension."

The woman next to her nudged her, and then stepped forward. "We have called you forth, to this place, to open your eyes. You have been blinded, for reasons that are beyond your understanding. But these reasons are now more hindrance than help."

Buffy sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm just a simple girl who was once a Slayer. You want to make that a little more vague?"

The first woman made what sounded much like a snort, and the second woman sighed and then continued. "After the final battle, with the First Evil, we stepped in to alter your life, much as your life was altered by the Monks of Dagon, to explain the existence of the Key. Instead of implanting a person and memories, however, we removed a person's presence from your life."

Buffy stared at the woman, not understanding. "Um . . . excuse me? How is that even possible?" she asked, her voice shaking. Her mind was reeling at this possibility. What did this mean? Who had been taken from her?

"How this was accomplished is beyond your comprehension," the woman replied airily.

"Okay, I'm getting tired of getting knocked for being human," Buffy said, stomping her foot. "Tell me, now, who you took and how you did it."

The first woman asked suddenly, "How did you defeat Angelus, Slayer?"

Buffy frowned, looking at her. "How did I defeat Angelus? I sent him to Hell, even though Willow had restored his soul, because Alfalfa had already opened."

The woman sighed heavily. "But what about Drusilla? How were you able to defeat Drusilla, in order to confront Angelus?"

"What? I . . ." Buffy's voice trailed off, as she realized she didn't know. Couldn't remember how Drusilla had been taken care of so she could deal with Angelus.

"Now you are beginning to see," the second woman commented softly. "The first step is realizing that a deletion has occurred."

Buffy found herself sitting on a small chair. She bit her lip, and twisted her hands in her lap. "Okay, I see what you're getting at," she said, feeling confused and worried.

The second woman nodded approvingly. "You are much brighter than anyone, even yourself, has ever given you credit for."

"If I'm so smart, why didn't I realize this before?" Buffy said, feeling a wave of self-doubt crash over her.

"You could not have known, Slayer. We are only choosing to remove the veil now, at this point, because of what occurred in your reality in the last few of your hours," said the snippy one.

Buffy started. "You mean, with Will? And his book?"

"Precisely," she continued. "This was an unforseen consequence of an action we took regarding the person we removed from your life."

The kind woman stepped forward, and sat next to Buffy in an identical chair. "You do not realize who we are. We are the Fates. We are responsible for spinning the thread of life, and cutting it, for each mortal in existence. It is a simple task, really. Even for Slayers who persist in coming back to life." She reached over and patted Buffy's hand.

Buffy smiled weakly, at the woman's attempt of a joke. The woman continued. "Yet, every so often, something occurs and our judgement is flawed, our decision in conflict with the greater forces of the universe--the Powers that Be. In those cases, we must choose how to best resolve the conflict."

Buffy frowned, puzzling over the woman's words. "Did this conflict affect the person removed from my life?"

The woman smiled. "Yes. Our solution was to reward the soul in question with another chance at life. The first lifetime for the soul had been . . . convoluted. Yet the soul's mortal existence was terminated with an act of self-sacrifice so noble, so pure, that we could not let the soul wink out of existence. Thus, we gave the soul another vessel, similiar to the first. We gave it new memories, and set it down in California. Because this soul's mate was in California, still existing."

Buffy shook her head. "I'm sorry, but why did you do all that? I mean, wouldn't there be a chance for this person to come in contact with its soul mate, and make a big old mess? It'd be like on an episode of Star Trek, when they time travel and mess things up and create a paraflox or something."

"Normally, you would at least be partially correct. It would create errors. In fact, it has. But we chose to risk the errors, because being close to its soul mate was part of the reward for the disputed soul."

Buffy sighed. "I still don't understand."

The third woman, who had remained silent during the conversation, stepped forward. Buffy looked at her in confusion, and the woman drew near and bent down. She looked into Buffy's eyes, and uttered a single word.

"Remember."

Buffy stared at the woman, and the woman smiled, and pressed a gentle kiss against Buffy's forehead.

And in a flash of color and sound, Buffy realized what was missing from her life. Who was missing. A cocky smirk. A black leather duster. A tender look. Blue eyes that could shift from violence to love in a second. Fangs. Anger. Hurt. Regret. Love.

Yet some of these things were familiar to her. She knew them. Knew those eyes, knew that look. Had felt that love.

And then, the rest of the explanation whirled through her.

Buffy's eyes, which had closed involuntarily, popped open. She stared at the women, who had all stood before her now. They looked at her with sympathy and understanding.

"I remember. I know," Buffy choked out.

The three women spoke as one. "You have a difficult choice ahead of you, Slayer. Choose the truth, and risk pain. Choose the lie, and risk pain. You may be rewarded or punished. Your fate, and the fate of the one once known as Spike, and now known as Will, is out of our hands now. You are making your own fate, your own choice. Remember what you have been told before, by the representative of the Powers that Be, and you will be able to make your own destiny."

"What? What representative of the Powers?" Buffy asked, confused.

The Fates looked towards their left. Buffy followed their gaze, and saw the First Slayer. She was back in that moment that happened four years ago, sitting by a fire in the middle of the desert.

The First Slayer stalked towards her. "You love with all your heart. It is brighter than the fire. Love, give, forgive. Love will lead you to your gift."

Buffy frowned, remembering the next words. "And death is my gift?"

The First Slayer shook her head. "No. He is your gift."

End, Chapter Six

 

Next