Chapter 20

Journal

I managed to find myself a job not long after I came out, but word got out where I’d spent the last two years. Couple of the women complained they didn’t feel safe around me, so I was asked to leave. Didn’t seem worth trying again after that, so I hid myself away and wallowed in my shame and misery. But I’m done with all that. No more shame, no more hiding. I’m not scared any more.

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The mall was exploding with Christmas and Buffy felt like a kid, happily lost in the wonder of it all. The lights, the spicy smells, the gaudy displays and even Santa suddenly looked real again. After years of coming to terms with the disappointment of finding out it was all a big fake, the joy of having someone special to share it with gave the season back the sparkle she thought had gone forever.

Wandering through the twinkling fairyland, Buffy smiled fondly at the children’s awestruck faces as Santa produced an array of cheap, plastic toys from his sack and made them the happiest kids on earth. Picked up some ornaments for the tree, because she’d decided there’d be a new one for every year she was with William, signed and dated by the two of them. Time to start a few family traditions of their own. Something to hand down to their kids.

After a few hours of browsing, the amount of bags she was laden with told her she’d put a decent sized dent in her credit card so she stopped for a coffee and a quick check of her gift-list.

Giving was a hell of a lot more fun than receiving. It made her realise just how little she still knew about William. In barely two months she’d learned enough to know she wanted to marry him, but she still didn’t know what his favourite colour was. She’d seen a part of him that he kept hidden, even from himself, but she still hadn’t a clue which books he’d read or the places he’d seen. A flutter of anxiety ran through her as she contemplated the bags and parcels at her feet, hoping she’d got at least some of it right. It was soon replaced by excitement again as she visualised how pretty the house was going to look when they’d finished putting up the festive decorations, and how just doing that had been another link in the chain that was bonding them closer and closer.

Not a very good metaphor, she decided, but they were bonding. Each day and everything they did brought them closer together and taught them new things about each other. The waitress who brought the coffee acknowledged her goofy grin with one of her own.

“Don’t you just love Christmas?” she said, getting out her pad and nodding toward the desserts. “Sure I can’t get you anything else?”

“Oh heck, you’ve tempted me.” Buffy gave the display a quick once over, but it was no contest, really. The chocolate cake was practically sending out begging letters. “One slice only,” she said, holding up her index finger. “A small one, and yeah, gotta love Christmas.”

Buffy looked at her watch, wondering if William had ordered the air tickets for New York yet, and wishing she hadn’t loaded her credit card quite so heavily. New York shopping was something else, especially at this time of the year. She hadn’t quite worked out why William’s dad had insisted so much that she be there. Possibly for decorative purposes, but for once, she didn’t care. She’d do corporate wife if she had to, or in this case, corporate fiancée.

She stopped just short of hugging herself, although she wanted to as the feel-good factor threatened to overwhelm her. She’d never had it quite so bad before, that feeling of elation you get when your cup of happiness suddenly fills right up to the brim and spills over the sides. Yes, Christmas with William was going to be great, she thought. And if this was a musical, the singing and dancing would be starting just about now.

“What’s so funny?”

She still had the silly grin on her face as she registered where the voice came from. And who it belonged to. Her insides dropped as Liam pulled out a chair and sat himself down at her table. For a moment all she could do was stare wordlessly at him as the Christmas spirit drained right out of her.

“Been shopping, I see.”

“Uhh, yeah.” Buffy found her voice, at last. “What are you doing?”

Liam pushed back the chair to make room for his long legs, which he stretched out in front of him as he leaned comfortably back. “Talking to you,” he replied casually, a faint look of amusement on his face.

“Why?” The feeling of shock was fast being replaced by one of anger at the nerve of the guy. She kept a tight hold on it, because what she really wanted to do was slap that stupid smile right off his face, he made her so mad. Did he really think she was going to sit here and listen to him badmouth William again?

“Because I...”

She didn’t let him finish. “Don’t tell me,” she said, bending down to gather up her bags and parcels. “You worry about me? Well, don’t.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Bit late for that now, don’t you think? It’s none of your business, Liam. Just stay away from me, okay?”

Liam straightened, resting his arms on the table, his face turning serious. “I think you’ll want to hear this, Buffy.”

”No, I won’t.” Buffy retrieved the last of her parcels and stood up, forcing herself to be calm. “There’s nothing you can tell me that I don’t already know.” She turned to leave, then it struck her and she turned back. “Have you been spying on him?”

“No.” He looked affronted by her accusation, and reached out his arm as if to stop her. The look she gave him obviously made him think again. His hand hovered, then fell back down on to the table. “Just a little research. Friend of a friend who knew him in prison.”

“How dare you?” Buffy choked out the words, annoyed at how shaky her voice sounded. “Just butt out of my business.”

“He’s dangerous, Buffy. You don’t see it, do you?”

“He was a victim.” Buffy looked around, aware that they were attracting an audience and wondering why the hell she was even having this argument with him. She knew she should go, but the urge to defend William was too strong. Sitting down again she levelled her gaze and reined in her rising temper. “Just what is your problem, with all this, really?"

"Guess I must still care about you." Liam shrugged. "Don't like seeing you making such a fool of yourself."

"You didn't want me, but you don't want anyone else to have me either? Is that it?"

"Not a convicted rapist, no."

The chocolate cake sat between them, the thick frosting glistening under the mall lights. It made her feel sick.

“He was cleared by a court of law, you know he’s innocent.”

“He stabbed someone in prison.” Liam saw her flinch at the news and a look of triumph crossed his face. Leaning forward, he pressed home his advantage. “Just what do you think of your precious boyfriend now?”

“Fiancé,” she corrected him, her tone cool. “He’s my fiancé.”

Liam closed his eyes for a moment, as if composing himself. When he opened them, the gloating had turned to incredulity. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

“Because all I hear is crap. I know what happened in prison, do you think he hasn’t told me the whole story?” She raised her chin. “It was self-defence.”

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s dangerous when provoked. Got a temper on him, so I hear.”

“Well,” Buffy reached for her bags again and stood up. “You’d do well to steer clear of him then. Goodbye.”

She walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, seething inside, and kicking herself for what she’d just said. Just what William didn’t need, her using him as some sort of bogey man. And she’d seen the way Liam had risen to her bait. Buffy threw the bags into the trunk of her car, slid into the driver’s seat and dropped her head into her hands. Liam wasn’t going to spoil this for her, God knows she’d given him enough of her life already. Gritting her teeth, she put the key into the ignition and started the car, determinedly putting him out of her mind. She’d wasted enough years on Liam Angelus and she wasn’t going to give him one moment more.

But that was easier said than done. When she pulled the car into the drive she was still thinking about the fact that Liam knew far more about William than he had a right to. And about that stupid threat she’d made. Hell, this was the last thing William needed.

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Frozen lasagnae or pizza? William flicked his glance from one to the other, then dropped the pizza back into the freezer because there was a good chance he and Buffy were both going to turn into one if they didn’t start eating something else. The sound of an engine and the crunch of tyres on the gravel drive made him cock his head and pause for a moment. Recognising it as Buffy’s car, he relaxed again and made his way back up the basement steps humming to himself as he tried to read the cooking instructions without his glasses.

This was almost perfect. Being here with her, it had given his life meaning again. Given him a better reason to get up in the morning. A reason to smile and a reason to cook frozen lasagnae instead of just smoking a cigarette. It was comforting to know that this was happiness he could count on. She was in the hall when he reached the top of the stairs, loaded down with shopping and pushing the front door closed with her foot.

They were well into the non-verbal communication now. Both of them with a ready repertoire of expressions that only they knew the meaning of. It was hi honey, I’m home, only without the words. I still can’t quite believe you’re here with me, and that we’re doing this, and I’ve missed you, and I’m glad you’re back, all rolled into one brief glance. All fuelled by the warm glow you get when the person you love most is standing right there in front of you. Warmth that was melting the hard shell he’d built around himself when the world had turned cold and brutal.

Every time he looked at her, the first thing he said was a silent thank you.

“Looks like you’ve had a good time.” He offered his cheek for a kiss then took advantage of the fact that her hands were full of bags and looped his arms around her neck. The way she dropped the bags and threw herself so enthusiastically into the kiss took him somewhat by surprise, because she’d looked tired when she’d come in, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Oh, cold, cold,” she said, squirming out of his grasp and rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Sorry, frozen lasagna.” William tossed it onto the hall chair and pulled her back to him. “Now, where were we?.”

“William, that’s a Cora Wilkes.”

“A Cora What?”

“The chair.”

The lasagne went sailing across the hall, skidded across the polished floor and came to rest beside the umbrella stand.

“There, happy now?”

It earned him a bat on the arm, which, he felt, gave him every right to twirl her around and pull her hard against him. Buffy gave a token shriek as he nuzzled her neck ferociously.

“Philistine,” she said on a gasping breath.

“Better believe it.” He had her trapped fast, arms crossed in front, his hands holding hers. “Bloody caveman, me. Now, where’s my club?”

She could move like lightning when she wanted to. One minute she was his prisoner, the next it was him, pinned against the wall and completely helpless. Not that he was complaining about that, either.

“You were saying?” she said with a wicked smirk.

William kept very still because her knee was a hair’s breath away from a very sensitive part of his body. And he couldn’t decide which he liked being best, captor, or captive. There was something to be said for both, but the knee was a bit too close for comfort.

“Er, Buffy, if you ever want to have children one day, umm, move the knee pet.”

The grin turned downright evil. The knee moved closer. William stepped sideways.

“Oh crap, I think I’ve squashed dinner.”

Buffy loosened her hold and let him retrieve the slightly dented lasagna. She giggled, so he tickled her, partly to cover his embarrassment at stepping on their mealdinner, but mostly because he loved hearing her laugh. When he finally let her go, she flopped down on the stairs to catch her breath. William sat beside her, nudging her along to make room for him.

“I so needed that,” Buffy let out a last giggle and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

“Glad to be of service,” he said, sliding his arm around hers, his fingers sifting through her hair. “Would hate to meet you in a dark alley, late at night. Where did you learn that move?”

He felt her stiffen and kicked himself for being so thoughtless. “Sorry love, poor choice of words. Nice to know you can take care of yourself though.” She returned him half a smile, and shook her head as if to tell him it didn’t matter. William rubbed a strand of hair between his fingers, lifted it and let it drop.

“Shall I get it cut?”

William gave her a sideways glance as she tipped back her head and shook out the golden strands. “Love your hair like that,” he admitted. “But you know I’d love you even if you were bald, don’t you?”

That earned him another slap on the arm and a smile that reached her eyes this time. That was better. She’d been looking entirely too glum for someone who’d just been Christmas shopping. He leaned back too and they sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the ticking of the clock that always sounded so loud when it was this quiet. William thought back to the first day he’d stepped into this hall. He could be happy here. He’d already known it back then. And he was.

“Buy anything nice?”

“Not telling,” she said, following his gaze to the abandoned bags and parcels littering the floor. “And don’t you dare look.”

Presents? For him? Somehow with all that was happening, he hadn’t made the connection between spending Christmas with her, and getting presents. He leaned forward and she grabbed his sweatshirt, tugging him back.

“No peeking. Christmas equals surprise. Remember?”

William made a mental note not to leave his gift buying to Christmas Eve as he usually did. Too important this year. “Not really,” he said in response to her question. “Parents remembered, but they never seemed to get the day right. Always late.” He laughed at that. “You’d think they’d remember what day Christmas was on?”

“But your grandparents made up for it, yeah?”

Bitter feelings. He still had to remember to push them aside rather than indulge them. But it was getting easier to do that. “Yeah,” he conceded. “They more than made up for it. Spoiled me rotten. Got no complaints, and I’m really looking forward to Christmas with you.”

“Me too. Wish we could erase the past, Will. The bad bits, I mean. Like what happened to you in prison.”

“Yeah. But it kind of made us the people we are. And it brought us together, so it’s got to be worth it.” He gave her a gentle nudge. “Brought us together, didn’t it?”

“You’d really go through all that again just to be with me?”

“Yes, I would.” He said it with as much conviction as he could muster, because it was true, and he wanted her to know that.

“But the stuff you had to do to survive it, Will?”

“Did what I had to do. Not saying I liked it.”

“I’m honoured, Will. Makes my problems seem like nothing.”

“Liam? He was a bastard, love. Wish I’d been there at the time.”

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t have walked away with a grin on his face, tell you that much.”

Buffy sat very quietly beside him and he didn’t say anything. They’d talked about this. She knew where he stood, what he thought about it, and it was a tiny friction point between them, as him forgiving Mandy had been. They’d have to live with it though. Some things he wasn’t gong to compromise on.

The best he could do was change the subject.

“Been looking at hotels in New York, where do you fancy staying? Dad wants to make a good impression and money, apparently is no object. Plaza, Ritz, Waldorf Astoria? Anywhere you like.”

“Somewhere a bit more rock and roll, maybe? What’s this band like?”

“Bit of a boy-band, I think, but they’re becoming very popular from what I can gather. Maybe the W or the Soho Grand then? I’ll get it organised. Dad wants us to take them out, wine and dine them. Hope he’s not going to turn up and try and be all hip and stuff. Makes me cringe when he does that.”

“It’ll be fun, Will. You can do it.”

He took her offered hand and swallowed the butterflies. Yeah, he could do it. The work, that was. The socialising? Well, he was glad she was going with him.

“Want to go get dinner?” he said, after another pause. Buffy didn’t move. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed the back of it and turned to her. Something was there, hovering, unsaid. He could feel it.

She did this. Spoke volumes without saying anything at all. All he could do was wait patiently, and listen to her silence.

“Do you think we’ll get snow this Christmas?” she said, at last. “I love snow.”

“Who knows? Buffy, I’m sorry about Liam.”

“Me too.”

She stood up and gathered her shopping, while he rescued the lasagne. They hadn’t meant the same thing and they both knew it.

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The Liam-shaped cloud sitting there on the horizon seems to grow larger and larger the more she thought about it. Buffy tried to appear normal, but it was difficult when her mind was constantly replaying the conversation they’d had in the mall. To have Liam show an interest in her now was the ultimate irony and someone on high must surely be having a good laugh at all this. There was a time when she’d have given anything to hear Liam say he cared about her. Nights when she’d wanted him so badly she’d ached with it. The useless tears she’d cried over him would fill a lake and drown him.

She was happy, so something had to go wrong. Isn’t that how it worked? And she’d been far too happy these past few weeks. Virtually tempting fate to throw a spanner in the works.

Why now, when she finally didn’t want him any more? He was just being perverse, she knew that. Had always been one for stirring things up and sitting back to enjoy the show. But what if he wasn’t? What if there was more to it than that...what if...? Buffy picked up a hairbrush and attacked her wind- tangled hair with it, pulling at the knots carelessly. Hurting herself because she was in a temper and the person she really wanted to take it out on wasn’t there. She brushed it until it crackled and the static made it float around her head like a veil. Cordy was right. Liam did like long hair and Buffy knew he’d always loved hers. Used to run his fingers through it obsessively, pick it up and let it rain down while the sunlight shone through. Had called her pet-names like Goldilocks, princess and angel-hair and made her glow with pride.

She tilted her head from side to side, looking at herself critically in the mirror. Hell, she wasn’t sixteen years old any more. And neither was Liam. He wasn’t that strapping lad who’d dazzled her and made her blind to everyone else. And she wasn’t that precocious teen in the micro mini-skirt, who’d driven him to distraction because she was too young to give him what he really wanted.

Perhaps if she’d given in then, things would have been different? Or maybe not. The promise of sex had kept him hooked, but when she’d made it plain she wanted to wait, and he’d finally got the message, he’d melted away from her like snow in spring. Irony here too, because he’d never know how close she’d been to giving in. The sex at the Bronze had been so much more than just a lame attempt to win him back.

Hot chocolate, that’s what she needed. And a serious talk with Liam. He had something to say? Okay, she’d listen, but he’d have to listen to her too. And sooner rather than later, because this was getting plain ridiculous.

Buffy took one last look at her hair in the dressing-table mirror, slapped the hairbrush down on the glass-covered top and stood up. Time to say goodbye to that sixteen year old once and for all. She paused at the top of the stairs listening for the sound of William drawing a bath, took a deep breath and ran down to the kitchen.

The scissors were in their usual place in the top drawer. Sifting through the utensils, she chose the biggest pair, weighing the cold metal in her hand before taking another deep breath and opening them.

Goldilocks, princess and angel-hair fell away and scattered around her like golden thread littering the tiled floor. Calmly and methodically she hacked at her hair, surprised at how difficult it was to cut through the thick locks with the wrong scissors, but determined not to stop until it was all gone. The hair fell away, silently symbolic as it landed on the floor. Taking with it a part of her past.

Liam had always made her irrational, and he still did. Childish too, maybe. But then they’d both been children back then and perhaps that’s how they still saw each other.

When the initial burst of energy had drained away, Buffy sat herself down at the kitchen table, groping for it like a blind man. Stunned now at what she’d just done, and with her eyes closed so she wouldn’t have to see the wreckage at her feet. She placed the scissors carefully down in front of her and tentatively touched a hand to the chunky lumps of hair that seemed to be sticking out every which way from her scalp.

Laughter came first. The sheer ludicrousness of her actions hit her full force as she ran her fingers through what was left of her glorious crown. It would grow back eventually, she knew that, so it wasn’t the end of the world, but she couldn’t remember a time when she’d had short hair. Her head felt strangely light, possibly not only due to a lack of hair. Her hands were shaking now, and her heart was pounding at the thought of having to look in a mirror to see just what she’d done to herself. A confusing swirl of elation and regret hit her as she sat and waited for William to finish his bath and find her.

That’s when the tears came. William had loved her hair long, too.

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It was a shock, when he saw her sitting there, head in hands, her massacred hair strewn across the floor. She was making some sort of noise, a cross between laughing and crying, he didn’t know which because he was having a hard time working out what he was seeing. William stood, paralysed at the kitchen door for a few moments, his eyes flicking from her to the hair on the floor, until thankfully, his legs started working again.

His first coherent thought was that she’d had an accident, maybe caught her hair on the stove and had to chop it off. Which might mean that she’d burnt herself, which was why she was covering her face. The thoughts raced through his mind one after the other with no space in between, and in the few seconds it took to get to her he’d already lived the worst-case scenario. He sank down onto the seat beside her, swallowed down the panic and reached out a shaky hand.

“Buffy?”

When she looked up, he was glad to be sitting down because his legs wouldn’t have held him. Her face was red and a little blotchy, but only from tears, not from the hideous burns he’d already imagined. She gave a small hiccup, but otherwise stayed very still while he took in the sight of her with her hair chopped away, and of the scissors lying in front of her on the table.

When she spoke, her voice was high pitched, with an edge of hysteria, the laughter and tears still evident.

“I cut my hair.” She sounded as if she was only just realising it herself. Pointing to the scissors with a bemused expression. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Did he mind? That she’d only cut her hair, not had some hideous accident. His voice, when he answered, was just as hysterical as hers was.

“Shit, you scared me,” he said, reaching out a hand and touching his fingers to her head. “What did you do this for, love?” He may have been greatly relieved that she wasn’t hurt, but hacking off hair with kitchen scissors was hardly normal behaviour.

“You hate it?”

“No, love, didn’t say that.” He tried to catch her eye because she seemed to be coming out of her daze and starting to feel self-conscious. “Was it something I said, earlier? Didn’t mean to upset you if I did.”

“No Will, it wasn’t you.”

Another wave of relief. He touched her again, still not quite able to believe what he was seeing. “Usual to go to the hairdresser for this sort of thing, isn’t it?” And if it wasn’t him, then who?

“Just wanted it gone.”

“It couldn’t wait?”

“What does it look like?” Buffy’s hand covered his.

“Like you just cut your hair with kitchen scissors. Tell me what’s wrong, love. Hate seeing you so upset.”

“Can I go look first?”

William took her hand, making sure he kissed her before they stood up. Still in shock himself at not seeing this coming. A few hours earlier they’d been talking about Christmas and New York, everything was good and no matter how much he racked his brain he couldn’t make anything fit this.

She slid awkwardly into his arms, trying not to let any part of her strange new hairstyle touch him. He held her close. Letting her know that he was there for her, even if he was mighty confused by all this. She rested for a few moments until he felt her soften against him and her arms crept around his waist.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Will.” Looking up, she gave him a lop-sided smile. “Pretty dumb thing to do, huh?”

“I guess.” His smile was much the same as hers. An attempt to look jolly when inside he felt anything but. “Why did you do it, love? Wanna tell me?”

Her whole body tensed and she tried to wriggle free, but he wasn’t having that. No way did she need to run away and be alone after something like this.

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can, Buffy. It’s me remember? What’s upset you so much?”

There were a few sighs before she spoke and when she did it was one word whispered so softly he almost didn’t catch it.

“What did he do?” William’s voice was clipped as he choked on the words. He moved away because he wanted to see her face, but Buffy twisted her hands into his tee-shirt to keep him in place. He pried them off as gently as he could, keeping a tight hold on each of her balled fists. “Tell me what he did.”

“It was nothing, Will. He just stopped to talk to me.”

“So Liam talks to you and you feel the need to cut your hair off?”

“Oh hell. What have I done, Will? Does it look terrible?”

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like, love. What the fuck did the bastard say?”

William let her go, watching as she moved to the kitchen door.

“Come, look with me?” she said, extending a hand to him.

He followed and took it to anchor himself there with her. She needed him more than he needed to march across town and beat the crap out of Liam. Much as he wanted to do that, he went with her, standing behind her as she slowly opened her eyes and looked in the hall mirror.

“Oh heck.” Her eyes widened as she took it in. “Remind me not to do this again.”

William threaded his hands through her hair and pulled it back from her face. Short hair suited her as well as long, that wasn’t the problem. Someone upsetting her so much that she wanted to mutilate herself was, though. “Don’t worry,” he told her, letting the hair drop. “You’ll never have cause to.”

“Will.” She sounded weary, as if this was an argument they were going to have over and over. “It’s okay. All sorted. I’ve told him to stop bothering us.”

William snorted. “That’s going to stop him?”

Buffy turned to face him, sliding her arms around his neck. “He just likes stirring things up, always has done. It’s a game to him, but he must know how serious we are about each other, so nothing he says is going to make a difference, right? Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

William dropped his chin onto her shoulder, his cheek resting against her neck. “Take you to a hairdresser tomorrow, get it cut properly. S’gonna look great.”

“Not a local one,” she said. “Don’t want people knowing how stupid I am.”

“Anywhere you like, baby.”

“Did you just call me baby?”

“Yep.”

Buffy turned again to look in the mirror, swivelling in his arms so that they stayed in place. Leaning back against him, she tilted her head from side to side as she took in what she’d done. When he flattened his hand over her stomach she covered it with hers, rubbing light circles on the back of it and tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder.

His hand started moving in time with hers as she shifted against him with a small catch of her breath. As distraction techniques went, that one small sound was amazingly effective. With a screech of brakes his heart stopped abruptly, spun around and raced off in a completely different direction.

Caveman, him? He’d meant it as a joke, but it summed up what he was feeling pretty well. Equally torn between wanting to have it out with Liam right now, and making love to her. But was it to show that he’d want her no matter what her hair looked like, or to mark his territory? He wasn’t a possessive man, but for the first time he wanted to keep her there in his arms and never let her go. Wanted to show her how he could love her better than Liam ever could have.

“Will,” she said, slightly breathless. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question was that, love?” Short hair definitely had its advantages. Easier to get at her neck, for one thing. Kissing her there was such a delicious pleasure. She always tasted so good and the way she squirmed and wriggled when he tickled her with his tongue just increased the heat. Made him hold her tighter and bury his face deeper into the curve of her shoulder. Made him dizzy as he breathed her in.

“You’ve got to promise you won’t go picking a fight with Liam.”

He couldn’t hear her because his brain was fogging up, filled with images of her and how beautiful she looked when they made love.

“Not going to let him hurt you.”

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her, first with his fingers then his lips as he turned her around and kissed her senseless.

“Would it be horribly inappropriate to want to make love to you now?” he said when he finally let her go. “Want to show you how much I love you, whatever your hair’s like.”

“It’s never inappropriate, Will. And thank you, for not minding about this.”

Buffy patted her hair. William kissed it for her. Just a light touch of his lips as the caveman receded. Possessiveness was the wrong word for what he was feeling. It wasn’t about him having her or wanting to stop anyone else from doing that. He held her tightly because he wanted her to feel loved and safe, not because he wanted to claim ownership.

Mentally, he was already half-way up the stairs with her. Already feeling the rush. But, much as he wanted to have sex with her, he managed to calm himself down and led her instead into the sitting room.

“Bit early for bed yet,” he said, picking up the TV remote. “Want to watch some television first? See if there are any good films on?”

“Whatever you want, Will.” Buffy looked a little confused at his change of direction, but she sat down when he urged her to.

The way she kicked off her shoes and leaned back into the cushions told him he’d made the right call. She still looked a little shocked, a little sheepish at what she’d done, and was probably still worrying about her run-in with Liam. Just as he was. Reassurance first, love-making later. Losing themselves in passion might be an instant fix for the tension, but it wasn’t going to answer the questions that were demanding answers.

Did he really need to start panicking because some inconsequential prat thought they shouldn’t be together? Wasn’t it just a very small cloud in an otherwise flawlessly blue sky? The best defence against Liam and his malicious tongue was to simply get on with their lives, and that’s what they should do.

Too simple.

William left her flicking through channels while he went to make the hot chocolate she’d been in the middle of when the slightly insane urge to cut off all her beautiful hair had hit. It was sad to see it lying on the floor and when he gathered it up, he did it carefully, trying his best not to disturb the strands too much, in case she wanted to do something with it. There were hair-pieces in her costume collection and maybe she could have it made into one.

The symbolism of it escaped him. Liam liked long hair, so she’d cut it off to spite him? Or even more worrying, to stop him ever fancying her again? The thought that Liam might want her again made him go cold, while the realisation that he wasn’t going to let that happen made William so hot that he had to splash his face with cold water to cool himself down. He wiped it dry with his sleeve and gripped the edge of the sink. If Liam was looking for a fight, he was going the right way about it.

Buffy looked a little more cheerful when he went back into the sitting room and handed her the hot drink. Whiskey was what he needed, so he poured himself one before sitting with her and settling down to the film she’d chosen. It went by in a blur of noise and images and when it finished, William had no idea what he’d been watching. Was she that worried about Liam? Sure, he had a big mouth, but he claimed to care about her, and you didn’t hurt people you cared about.

You protected them. You held on to them, and you did what you had to do to keep them safe.

“Did you do this for me?” he asked her, the question no more than a whisper.

Buffy stirred and turned a sleepy face to him, automatically reaching a hand to push her hair out of her eyes. Her expression was one of mild surprise when she remembered it wasn’t there anymore. It turned to a frown before a small smile flitted across her mouth and she levered herself up and flopped against the back of the sofa.

“I’m sorry, Will. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do,” she said, sounding calmer. “Could have given you a panic attack, I should have thought of that.”

“Almost died of fright, but don’t worry, no panic attacks.” William sat himself up too and hit the off button on the television remote. “Which is good, really. Haven’t had one in a while. Think I might be getting them under control.”

“I’m glad, Will.”

“Yeah, me too. So, what are we going to do about this?”

“We’re going to make love, like you promised me.”

“Think we ought to talk first, don’t you, love?”

Buffy gave him a shove, her mouth forming an exaggerated pout. “You don’t want me anymore because I look like a scarecrow.”

It was meant as a joke, at least he thought it was. The little-girl voice and the head-tilt told him she was trying to laugh at her moment of lunacy, but he didn’t miss the anxiety in her eyes as she said the words.

“Always want you, silly thing,” he told her. “Especially when you look like a scarecrow. It’s bloody sexy.”

“Then come get me.”

What did he want to do, talk about that prat Liam? Or let her know in no uncertain terms how sexy a scarecrow she did make sitting there coyly before him with her fingers laced together and her eyes half-closed?

No contest. It was an offer he couldn’t refuse and wouldn’t have even if he’d had a jot of say in the matter. Which he didn’t, because the temperature was rising again and he couldn’t think of a better way than this to avoid a meltdown.

Or create one. Fast or slow, raunchy or tender, however they did it there was always heat. Warm kisses turned blistering by flaming passion. Skin turned hot in a fever of wanting and climaxes that consumed them in the inferno they made between them.

His protests were feeble as she pushed him back into the soft cushions. His hand weak against hers as she undid his jeans. When he tried to curl his fingers around her wrist to stop her, there was no strength there at all so he surrendered with a whimper and let her overpower him, gasping on a sharp intake of breath as she put her mouth on him and proceeded to send him to paradise without all the fuss and bother of actually dying first.

And then, when he was floating in that wonderful place between reality and fantasy, the sound of her voice, her soft touch and the knowledge that he was truly loved brought him back to life again, always with a heart full of gratitude for the gifts she’d given him. Feeling humble and overwhelmed, strong and secure in one big tangle of emotion.

This was loving in all its incarnations. To be able to show someone everything that you are and to be able to look at them and accept it all. To want to give and take in equal measure. To want to share their joy and to feel their pain. To want to stand beside them and protect them to your dying breath.

He’d do that for her, no question about it. In prison all he’d had left was his honour, and even when he’d been pissing himself with fright he’d somehow managed to stand firm and fight for it. Liam may be finding it amusing intimidating Buffy with his pathetic attempts to spoil their happiness, but the jerk had no idea what he was taking on if he persisted in this.

Or rather, who.

Chapter 21

Home is where the heart is. That’s true. I’d be happy anywhere she was, but I love it here. Really feel like I belong somewhere. After a life in transit, I feel as if I’ve found somewhere to call home at last.

It looked surprisingly good. Her, but not her. Sophisticated yet playful. The change was drastic, but Buffy Summers still looked back at her, albeit a Buffy Summers she’d seen very little of before. William gave her the thumbs up in the mirror and she smiled back at him, feeling suddenly full of frivolous energy as the hairdresser put the finishing touches to the softly layered style.

William folded the newspaper he’d been reading and joined her as she paid the bill.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. Makes you look,” he tilted his head for a moment, appraising her. “I don’t know, somehow older and younger at the same time.”

Buffy shook her head, loving the way her new hairstyle moved. She left the hairdresser’s arm in arm with William, a new spring in her step and feeling like a teenager again. The very opposite of what she’d actually intended. Sophisticated could come later. Right now she wanted to skip and dance and twirl around and laugh.

“Let’s take a drive up the cliff,” she said, taking both of his hands. “Give ourselves the day off. Have some fun.”

William caught her mood and grinned back at her. “Shall I get mine cut too? Shave it all off?”

“Don’t you dare,” Buffy said, tugging him along, then dropping his hand and sprinting for the car. “Race you,” she shouted back to him as she dodged between the vehicles. She got there first, leaning against the side of her car and gasping for breath. He wasn’t far behind and she shrieked as he lifted her clear from the ground and swung her around.

The slow slide down his body and the kiss that ended it changed the mood slightly, and Buffy settled into the passenger seat feeling loose and relaxed and insufferably pleased with herself. In the back of her mind was the meeting she was planning with Liam, but she refused to think about it. Urgent as it was, there was no need to stop living her life because of it.

They chatted and sang along with the radio as William drove them up the cliff road.

Summer or winter, it was always windy on the cliff-top. To go with her exuberant mood the sun decided to make a cameo appearance just as William was parking, brightening what had started as a dull, overcast day and chasing away the last traces of the glum mood she’d woken up with when she’d looked in the mirror and remembered what she’d done. William zipped up his jacket, mumbling that it was cold, but Buffy left hers open and flapping in the wind. It was strange not to feel her hair whipping around her face and shoulders as it usually did when the wind caught it, and being able to tame it simply by running her fingers through the short strands was a definite advantage.

“Do you remember the first time we came up here?” she asked William as they walked along am in arm.

“You threw my cigarettes off the cliff, how could I forget that?”

Buffy giggled as she remembered the expression on his face when she’d done that and how different he’d looked when she’d seen him smile. “I think that was the first time I saw your happy face,” she told him.

“Was I that miserable when I first came here?”

“Wouldn’t say miserable. Anxious-looking would be a better word. Let’s sit for a while. View’s stunning from here.”

William wasn’t too keen on heights so she chose an outcrop of rocks that weren’t too close to the cliff-edge. He sat beside her and together they looked out towards the horizon. The ever changing patterns of the sea made the view different every time she looked at it, and as she pointed out the various landmarks to him she found herself noticing things she hadn’t seen since she was a child. And looking at them through William’s eyes made her see them in a whole new way.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Buffy huddled against him. Now that they’d stopped walking she was starting to feel the cold. William was always so warm and there was something comforting about winter cuddles that went beyond the need to chase away the chills.

He held her closer, rubbing a hand up and down her arm when she shivered. Pressing a kiss against the top of her head. Small gestures that not only told her he loved her, but that he cared for her too. “Yeah, it is,” he said, and those three words seemed to hold so much meaning.

Buffy listened to the steady thump of his heart and wondered, not for the first time, who was getting the better deal out of this. She was supposed to be saving him, but his coming into her life had shown her just what had been lacking all these years. She’d have gone on, and maybe never noticed how empty it was becoming. Or how quiet the house was when it was just her moving through the silent space.

They crept up on her, these moments of overwhelming gratitude that she’d found someone who, by some bizarre coincidence, seemed to feel exactly the same way about her as she did about him. She was feeling it now, as they sat there quietly. Almost a physical thing. A swelling in her chest that made her want to be soaring up there with the clouds that were racing across the sky. An overwhelming desire to smother him with kisses in an effort to show him how happy he made her. She reached up and gave him one. A small, rather restrained affair, no more than a quick peck on the cheek, but he got the message, returning her a dazzling smile. Buffy responded by squeezing his arm, a smile of her own. And so the dance went on.

“Are you nervous? About the wedding?” she asked him.

“Little bit.”

“Only a little?”

“Okay, a lot. Just the thought of all those people staring at me, you know?”

“Yeah, think I do, Will. Shall we ditch the whole costume idea? Wear normal wedding clothes instead?” Buffy picked absently at a clump of wild grasses while she waited for his answer. Much as she wanted to put on a show, it was becoming painfully obvious that it was the last thing he wanted..

“Would you mind terribly if we didn’t?”

No need to have to think about that one. It was a wedding, not a stage production, something she seemed to have forgotten in all the excitement. “Maybe just a little. It would have looked good in the photographs.”

“Yeah, but do you really want to risk my dad turning up as a New Orleans riverboat gambler?”

“Umm...”

“I tell you, he will, complete with brocade vest. And God-knows what mum would come as. Some Edgar Allen Poe heroine probably.”

Buffy thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I could see that. Okay, no costumes. Think I’ll swing by the crystal shop on the way home and tell Tara there’s been a change of plan.”

“Thanks, you’re wonderful.”

“It’s your wedding too, Will. Think I was kind of forgetting that. And hey, I still get to wear the fancy dress.”

“You’re gonna look gorgeous.”

“Wish we could do it now.”

“What, because of him?”

“Partly.” Buffy felt the stiffening of muscles and the slight pulling away as Liam’s ghost shouldered its way between them yet again. Proof that no matter how much she kidded herself, he was still there, in her life. The torch she’d carried for him had been so hot, and so bright, and she’d carried it long after it had started to burn her fingers. It had gone out that night in the alleyway, but the bitter taste of ash still burned her throat when she thought about the humiliation he’d inflicted on her.

Picking up a rock, she threw it as hard as she could over the cliff edge. A second rock followed the first, along with a frustrated cry, and she was reaching for a third when she felt William’s hand on her arm. His expression stuck halfway between amusement and confusion as he raised his eyebrows in silent question.

“Might be someone below,” he said. “That’s a pretty big rock.”

Buffy rather sheepishly put it down and let out a frustrated breath. “Gran always used to tell me off for dropping rocks off the cliff. Sorry about that, stupid thing to do. Hell, this whole thing’s making me stupid.”

Damn Liam, she thought, wrapping her arms around her knees. Love him, or hate him, it was always emotional overload whenever he got within fifty yards of her. Sitting and brooding didn’t help either. It hadn’t helped back then, when she’d wanted him, and it wasn’t going to now that she didn’t. All she could do was talk to him as an adult. Make him see that if he really cared for her, he wouldn’t be putting her through this. Her own naiveté made her laugh out loud sometimes. When had Liam ever listened to anyone, but himself?

For a few seconds she forgot all about William sitting beside her. It wasn’t until the sensation of his hand insistently patting and smoothing her hair filtered through to her that she realised he was trying to ask her something without actually saying the words.

When he did speak his voice was very quiet. “You said this whole thing’s making you stupid?”

Hell, had she said that? The look on his face told her she had, and that he’d taken it completely the wrong way.

“I wasn’t talking about the wedding, Will. What I said just then, it had nothing to do with me having second thoughts about marrying you.” She waited a heartbeat to make sure he was listening before going on. “I was talking about this,” she pulled at a lock of hair. “And him. Hell, I’d got myself together, Will. This stupid behaviour so isn’t me any more. Got my life back now. Got you. Don’t need anything else.”

“Thank god.” It fell from William’s lips on a whispered sigh that had her reaching for him with everything she had. Now, more so than ever, she needed to tell him that he was the only one she wanted, and that she’d never been more sure about anything.

Turning to him, she said, “I was wrong, Will, when I said it had nothing to do with wanting to marry you. No don’t...” He tensed up again as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Holding him by his lapels, she flattened her hands and slid them up over his shoulders and around his neck, capturing him and holding him in place. Everything was on edge now, so different from the light-hearted mood they’d both been in when they’d left the hairdressers.

This was life demanding attention in a way that couldn’t be ignored. One of those times when she had to say exactly the right thing because, as far as William had come since she’d know him, he was always going to depend on her to do that. It had seemed like an enormous task back then, and in some ways it still was. The things that had happened to him couldn’t be undone and his self-worth would always be fragile. The way he was looking at her now reminded her so much of that first day on the back porch, when he’d thought she was going to tell him to go, that she felt herself tearing up. Then, she’d done it because she’d had to. To please her mom. Or had she somehow already known then where it was all leading?

Whatever questions she might have had back then, she knew one thing for certain. Now she did it out of love.

“This has everything to do with wanting to marry you,” she continued. “The thought that anything might spoil what we have ties my insides in knots, Will. Nothing, but nothing is going to come between us. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

He didn’t have to reply, she felt his answer in the tightening of his arms around her waist. The feel of his lips against her cheek. And the breath he let go in a rush.

His voice was still very quiet when he answered her, the words mumbled into her collar as he held her. “Should have got yourself a normal boyfriend.”

She probably wasn’t supposed to hear them, or maybe she was? He looked anxious enough when he lifted his head. Looking for reassurance?

A look that asks so much can break your heart. Buffy felt her chest tighten as she realised exactly what she had sitting there beside her. With one palm curved against his cheek she drew him down to her waiting mouth and responded to his statement by kissing him as if he was the most precious thing in the world.

----------------------------------------------------

William dropped Buffy off at the crystal shop on the way home so she could tell Tara about the change of costume plan. He guessed she probably wanted to discuss more than wedding costumes and with Willow and Tara, she was in good hands.

He gave himself a good talking to on the way home, reminding himself that he’d

said he’d be there for her and that he wasn’t always going to be a wimp. Bloody embarrassing that all he’d done back there on the cliff was crumble at the first hint that anything might be wrong between them. Fat load of use I am to her, when she needs me, he thought, a little crestfallen as he swung the car into the drive. No bloody use at all.

He stayed in the car for a while, unable to go inside because suddenly he didn’t feel worthy of all this. The house stood before him, calm and serene and welcoming as it always was and he sat staring at it and wondering how real it all was. And how long it was going to last. Suddenly feeling wobbly and insecure, and ready to believe all those people who said he shouldn’t be here. Who didn’t want him here. Who believed he was taking advantage of her.

This was when he needed Buffy more than ever. These times when he wanted to turn tail and run because it was all too much. Times when she’d still him with a quiet hand and a wise word so that he’d laugh at himself and remember why he i was /i here. The last two months had seen him leaving the darkness behind, at long last, but the light of the real world too bright for someone so accustomed to living in the shadows. Sometimes it was all still too dazzling.

Bollocks, he told himself. Get a grip. Buffy’s hurting, and she needs you.

As he started the engine again he took one last look at the house. “I’ll be back,” he said, out loud. “Not going anywhere. This is where I belong, here with her.”

The tyres squealed as he reversed, too fast, churning up the gravel and sending a shower of it against the wooden steps. Turning the car onto the coast road he sped back into town, coming abruptly to rest a few minutes later outside the Angelus garage. William left the car parked at the kerbside, locked up and walked towards the pumps with no real plan other than to find Liam and tell him to leave them alone. And keep his mouth shut and stop stirring up trouble. And stay the hell away from Buffy. The list got longer and longer as he looked around for signs of life.

It was a sad looking place, completely out of step with the evolution of the town. Stuck somewhere in the late fifties from what William could gather and still using the kind of gas pumps that required someone to come out and work them for you. They probably washed your windshield too; William had no idea, because he didn’t buy gas here on principle. The neon sign buzzed and flashed above him with the name of some company probably long gone out of business and the lights were on in the red-brick building that housed a small convenience store. When he tried to enter, the door was locked. He noticed the hand-written sign stuck to the door with tape announcing that they were gone to lunch and would be back around two thirty.

William checked his watch, then pressed his face to the glass and scanned the interior. No-one in evidence, but there was a workshop out back which was a more likely place to find Liam since he was usually seen in greasy overalls. He walked round and was again met by a pair of locked doors. Damn. he thought. The adrenaline surge that had got him here was fast evaporating and the questions he’d been so sure of were starting to sound like the kind of argument two kids would have in a schoolyard. Why didn’t he just tell him, get the hell away from my woman, and have done with it. That was the kind of language Liam would understand, and it pretty well summed up what William was feeling.

Not today though. Buffy would be back before two-thirty and William wanted to have had this done and dusted before then. Wanted to have been able to greet her and tell her it was all sorted. No more Liam problems. But it wasn’t to be. He walked back to the car feeling a little deflated after the build up and almost ran straight into a woman as she hurried towards the shop, keys in hand. Sidestepping smartly, he looked up and registered who it was he’d nearly knocked down.

A quick get-away wasn’t an option, since she’d obviously recognised him and would want to know what he, of all people, was doing here skulking around the back.

“It’s William, isn’t it?” Cordelia stopped, and tilted her head. “What are i you /i doing here?”

A straight talker, that was Cordelia’s reputation. According to Buffy, anyway. William hadn’t done more than glance at her in passing, but he knew she was Liam’s current girlfriend and that she would see through any bullshit at fifty paces. His face started to colour as he mumbled some excuse about having run out of gas, to which she raised her eyebrows even higher in disbelief. In the end he decided to just go, muttered his goodbyes and turned for the car. Heck, this had probably made things worse. She was bound to tell Liam he’d been here and Liam might decide that was the perfect excuse to hassle Buffy again. William was just debating whether he ought to go back and try and make his explanation more plausible when Cordelia made the decision for him.

“William, stop.” He heard the tapping of her heels on the concrete as she hurried after him. “I want to talk to you.”

Okay, he thought, turning around. Honesty was probably the best policy. Or not. What the hell did he say to her?

“Buffy’s cut her hair. We just saw her leaving the crystal shop.”

That wasn’t what he was expecting at all. “Uhh, yeah.” Not much more to say to that.

“Why?”

He was expecting that even less. And he was startled to see how angry she was at something, he didn’t know what. But it was him she was glaring at, her stance challenging as she folded her arms and looked him straight in the eye.

“I, I don’t know. Guess she just felt like a change.” The words tripped over his tongue. He’d come here for a manly confrontation with Liam, not a discussion about hairstyles. Cordelia took a step forward.

“You’re here to see Liam, aren’t you? Just what the hell is going on with those two?”

Those two? The words hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, popped into his mind as he tried to work out what she was so upset about. “You mean Buffy and Liam?”

“Damned right, I do. Look William, no offence, but whether I approve of Buffy marrying you or not, at least I thought that would end this stupid obsession she’s always had over Liam. But no, she just has to have you both. Do you know they’ve been seen together, in public? More than once. They’re not even trying to hide it. And just now, we saw her coming out of the crystal shop and Liam’s all, ‘oh, Buffy’s cut her hair, doesn’t it look cute?’ And he doesn’t even like short hair.”

Mercifully Cordelia stopped to draw breath at that point, which was lucky because William was still back at the part of her tirade where she’d said Buffy wanted them both. “Whoa, whoa, just stop a minute, will you?” he said holding up his hands. “You don’t honestly think anything’s going on between them?”

“Something is, or you wouldn’t be here looking for a fight. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t looking for a fight. Hell, Cordelia. Liam’s the one who’s hassling Buffy. Just came here to tell him to back off, that’s all.”

“I think he wants her back.”

“No.” William’s heart lurched at the words. “He doesn’t. All he wants to do is cause trouble. She’s upset about all this, believe me, doesn’t want to have anything to do with him.”

Cordelia looked less than convinced. “You don’t know what she was like over him,” she said in a slightly more subdued voice. “Has she told you about the...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it all. Did you say she was leaving the crystal shop?” William looked at his watch. That couldn’t be right, he’d only dropped her off less then ten minutes ago.

Cordelia nodded. “Liam wanted to get a sandwich and she was just leaving as we were parking. I’m getting my purse, then I’m going home and there won’t be anyone here until two-thirty. Like the sign says,” she added. “He’s gone over to the next county to buy parts by the way. Won’t be back till late.”

The challenge was back in her voice and William thought he ought to go, which was what she was strongly implying, before he rose to it and said something stupid. Bad idea coming here without telling Buffy. Only going to complicate things.

“Look,” he said, backing away. “Tell him to stay away from her.” He wanted to add or he’ll have me to answer to, but he didn’t, because that really did make it sound as if he’d come here for a fight. As he turned to go, he felt Cordelia’s hand clutch his arm.

“I know what you did in prison.”

He had to force himself to be still when all his instincts were telling him to push her off and run. Had to force down anger that malicious tongues were inevitably going to make him feel. She let him go and he turned away, almost wearily. Inevitable was a good word, and it had only just started. Now, he wasn’t imagining the wagging tongues and the pointing fingers. They were real enough. No point in trying to defend himself. None at all, so he walked resolutely towards the car and told himself to just get used to it, because it was going to get worse before it got better.

But he was buggered if he was going to hide anymore.

---------------------------------------------------

It had happened to her more than once that she’d been thinking about someone and within a short time they’d appear or call. Tara was out and Willow had a Reiki treatment scheduled, so Buffy said a quick hello and left the crystal shop intending to go straight home, only to spot Liam leaving the Deli. Her first instinct was to duck back into the shop doorway and hide. Did she really want to spoil the day by confronting him now? Her second was to get this over and done with now.

“Liam.”

He turned at the sound of his name, his expression first guarded, then turning to one of recognition as he worked out it was her.

Of course, it was the hair he was staring at. Her hand went there automatically, patting at it self-consciously the way people do when they’ve just had a radical change of style. He winked and pointed towards it.

“You’ve had your hair cut.” He said it, then laughed. “Sorry, obvious thing to say. Suits you.”

Buffy bristled at his over-familiarity, already on the defensive and she hadn’t even talked to him yet. He was still staring, a vaguely amused look on his face as he waited for her to reply. Get it over with, she reminded herself, stepping out from the shop doorway. William wasn’t expecting her for at least another hour and this needed sorting.

“What made you do it?”

“The hair?” She gave a non-committal shrug. “Felt like a change. Liam, I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah.?”

“Yeah. You on lunch?”

He held up the brown bag. “Was going to eat my sandwich, then I was gonna pick up some parts, but they can wait.”

Buffy nodded, looking around as she wondered where they should go. Nowhere public, that was for sure.

“The garage,” he said. “Closed for lunch, it’ll be private. Cordy went back for her purse, but she’ll have gone home by now and she won’t be back ‘till two thirty.”

She nodded again and looked at her watch. “No games,” she said. “We’re gonna talk like adults, right?”

“You bet.”

His reply was too flippant for her to have any hope that he was taking this seriously, and he was still grinning at her new hairstyle. When he asked her if she wanted a lift, she declined.

“I’ll meet you there, but call me first, on my cell. I won’t come if Cordy’s still there.”

“You got it.” Liam turned for his car, whistling as he did so. Putting her hackles up even more with his nonchalance.

“Wait up,” she said. “You’ll need my phone number.”

Liam produced his cell-phone from his pocket and waved it at her. “If it’s still the same one, then I’ve already got it.”

“Yeah, still the same. Okay, I’ll start walking, but call me and tell me the coast is clear.”

Liam left looking a lot happier than he should have and Buffy started walking. It was only a few minutes to the garage so she slowed down to give herself more time to work out exactly how she wanted to play this. Tell him straight that she wanted him completely out of her life? They lived in the same town and were bound to cross paths at some time in the future, she couldn’t stop that. Forgive and forget, and agree to be friends? If he cared for her, as he said he did, then surely he’d want her to be happy? Why couldn’t he understand how happy William made her?

The phone ringing interrupted her thoughts and she answered it, no clearer in her mind about what she was going to say. By the time she got to the garage, she’d come to the conclusion that Liam’s worrying about her well-being was just a smoke-screen for a witch-hunt. William had warned her this might happen, and the fact that it was her fault everyone knew about him made it so much harder to bear.

What use were regrets? She could beat herself up, or she could do her best to put things right. A much better way of using the energy. Calmly and logically she was going to make Liam see that William was an innocent man, who’d been wrongfully convicted. His innocence was beyond doubt, it was obvious? Wasn’t it?

God, rape was an ugly word. It had scared her when she’d first heard it, how could it not scare those who didn’t even know him? Those who didn’t care whether he was innocent or not? All some people wanted was an excuse for a good gossip - the more lurid the details, the better. And goodness knows how William’s story had been amplified as it had gone from mouth to mouth. Buffy could almost hear them whispering, i we don’t want your sort here. /i This may be the twenty first century, but people were just as quick to get out the pitchforks and flaming torches when the occasion presented itself.

She arrived at the garage and looked around the deserted. pumps.

Liam had been the object of more than one teenage girl’s fantasy. As she peered through the glass door of the shop, Buffy remembered how they all used to come by for candy and gum just so they could be served by him. The shop had done a roaring trade in underage cigarette sales when he’d worked there, and when he’d given some lucky girl a freebie, a can of coke or a candy bar and that certain wink of the eye, she knew she was in.

She’d been proud to be his girlfriend, not only because she’d wanted him so much, but because it had made her the envy of her friends. All the effort she’d put in to look good so he’d pick her made her laugh now. All hormones and lust, and wanting something so badly she thought she was going to expire if she didn’t get it. Who’d want to be a teenager again? she thought as she made her way round the back to the workshop.

This was the wrong place to be having this conversation. She could see that now as the memories came flooding back. The half-loft over the work-shop had been their favourite place for smoochies and heavy, heavy petting. Their secret place. But as she rolled back the door and peered round, it struck her, oddly for the first time, that she probably hadn’t been the only girl he’d taken up there.

He was in the office sitting on the ripped, vinyl bench still with its lumps of foam stuffing protruding, just finishing up his sandwich when she found him. Buffy stood, rather nervously at the door, noting how nothing had changed. Not for the better, anyway. The old wooden counter with its greasy telephone. Invoices hanging from a spike nailed into the wall, the girlie calendar. Liam balled up the empty brown bag and tossed it into the trash can, wiped down the dirty seat with his sleeve and, with a flourish and a restrained smile, invited her to sit.

Charm? He had it in bucket-loads and Buffy could see why she’d been so crazy over him. That wasn’t the problem when she went over it in her mind. He was everything a young girl wanted in the man of her dreams. Handsome, strong, and yes, charming, with the knack of making you believe you were the most beautiful girl in the world. Dazzling was a word she’d used more than once in relation to him and it summed him up perfectly. Trouble is that dazzling light will could blind you. It made you see only the brightness and it hid the rest. To a giggling teenager, the way he manipulated people and caused trouble had just seemed funny.

But she’d stopped laughing that night in the alley.

“Come on, sit down, Buffy. I’m not going to eat you.” He patted the seat, moving along to give her room, then when she didn’t immediately sit, he moved up to give her more space.

With one arm resting on the counter, he drummed out a tune with his fingers. It distracted her, but it was probably supposed to, she thought. As was his casual stance. Leaning back into the corner, legs apart, completely open and maddeningly relaxed.

“Can’t get over your hair. I like it.”

“We’re not here to talk about my hair.” Buffy sat down, placing her purse between them.

Liam stared at it, his face turning serious. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“Liam,” she began, feeling her way into the conversation and hoping the words would come if she just started talking. “This isn’t about me, is it? It’s about William and some stupid notion of a witch-hunt. I’m right, aren’t I? “You don’t really care that I’m marrying him, it’s just an excuse for you to have some fun.”

He was still staring at her bag, shaking his head slightly.

Buffy tried again. “He was cleared by a court of law. Hell, the woman who accused him has come out and said she lied. He went through a horrendous time with it all, don’t make him go through it all again. Please.” By the time she got to the please, her voice was cracking and the tears that were threatening to fall took her completely by surprise. Taking a breath, she steeled herself. If begging was what she had to do, then she’d do it. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stood in front of this man and pleaded, silently or with words, for him to see her, and hear her.

Very slowly, Liam lifted his hand and traced the line a tear had made down her cheek. Buffy was too startled by the gesture to move, and by the time she did dip her head away, his hand was back on his lap. When she looked up, the expression on his face stopped her dead in her tracks. It was a look she’d have given anything for at one time. A time that didn’t exist any more, and never would again.

For the first time, he looked as if he wanted her more than she wanted him. And all she felt was relief that it was going to be her walking out on him this time. If she’d come here for answers, then it was staring her in the face.

“You’re beautiful when you cry,” he said in a low voice. “And you’re wrong. This was never about what William did or didn’t do.”

The teardrop glistened on his finger under the flickering light and as she watched him lick it off she felt nothing but the need for honesty. Something they’d forgotten in all of the name calling and back biting.

“We were never meant to be, were we?” she said.

“I guess not.”

Leaning his elbows on his knees, Liam rested his head in his hands and studied the floor. It wasn’t like him to look so defeated, so soon, and perhaps this hadn’t been what he was expecting. All she’d done was cry. But not for him. Not any more.

“We’re done, Liam. Don’t think I realised it properly until this minute. I’m ready to let it go. Put the past where it belongs. Are you?”

They both sat in a silence broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of their breathing. Breaking up was hard to do, and they’d never done it properly. He’d walked away, and she’d thrown his picture in the trash, but they’d never made their peace with each other. Some people never did, she knew that. The loving, if it had ever been that, had stopped long ago. What they both lacked, and needed desperately, was closure.

“Did you mean it, when you apologised?”

“Yeah, you didn’t deserve that. You don’t know how much I regret it.”

William had forgiven Mandy, surely she could do the same for this man sitting next to her? No matter what she still thought of him. The trick, just as William had said, was to give it freely and not to look for anything in return.

“Then I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” This was hard. Her forgiveness in return for him leaving them alone? It would have been the perfect trade. The words had to come from him though or her forgiveness would be nothing but blackmail.

“Thanks.”

Another taut silence stretched between them, the air growing thick and heavy. Holding her hostage as Liam closed his eyes and Buffy waited for the words that would allow her to walk out and never look back. Waited for him to bestow his blessing on her and William. Much as it irked her to have to ask, it was the only way to buy William some sorely needed peace of mind, and her pride was worth nothing compared to that.

“You want me to put a stop to the gossip?”

“That was the general idea.”

So like him to want to draw it out. Buffy reached for her purse in an effort to indicate the meeting was over, if only he’d tell her what she wanted to hear. She had to stand up before she heard her name, spoken on a throaty whisper. Cautiously, she sat down again.

“I can do that,” he said, his voice still very quiet. Almost as if the words were too painful to say.

Buffy dipped her head and caught his eye because he seemed far more interested in rubbing at an oil stain on his palm than looking at her. A little desperate now because she could feel humble, contrite Liam slipping away and smug, complacent Liam fast returning. “No games,” she said. “Isn’t that what we agreed?”

“I can do that,” he repeated, his voice a little louder. Firmer and more resolute. “But you have to do something for me.”

“No games, Liam.” There was panic in her voice now, coupled with disappointment that it always, inevitably came down to this. “Please.”

“Kiss me goodbye, and I will.”

“What?”

“One last kiss, for old time’s sake. Come on, Buffy. Don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind? Trying to remember if I was a better kisser than he is. Was pretty hot between us, you can’t deny that.”

Her first reaction was to want to laugh in his face, and she would have done if his expression hadn’t had an edge of seriousness that told her he wasn’t joking.

“Sorry, I can’t remember.”

“You never were a good liar, Buffy.”

“This is blackmail.”

“Possibly, but you’d do it to spare him.” It was a statement, not a question.

“He wouldn’t want me to.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

“Because there’ll be nothing to tell him. And what about Cordy? How could you do this to her?

“What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.”

What the hell did he want? The look in his eyes was suddenly challenging. As if he was daring her to try and leave without giving him what he’d asked for. Buffy kicked herself for being so stupid. First for thinking that anything she had to say to him would make any difference to what he did. It never had in the past. And second, for being stupid enough to let herself be alone with him.

“I’m not going to kiss you.” She stood up, shaking her head. “I knew this would be a waste of time.”

“Then what the hell did you come here for?” His hand was on her arm before she could move any further, and when she tried to shake him off, he deposited her, with a swift jerk, back down onto the seat beside him. Panic turned to outrage as his face hovered close to hers, near enough that she could feel his breath warming her ear as he spoke again. “Why did you come, really?

“To get you to stop being such a jerk,” she shouted back in a voice that sounded bolder than she felt. “Let me go.”

The hand slid higher, to her shoulder, pressing her back into the padded seat, and when she twisted away and brought her other hand up to fend him off he caught it in mid air.

“Don’t tell me you’re not curious,” he said. “Come on, Buffy, just one for the road, then you and Willy can ride off into the sunset, or whatever it is you’re planning to do, and you’ll never hear from me again. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I don’t believe this.” Buffy shoved at him. Anger made her strong enough to push him back, but he was just as quick as she was and his hard weight was on her before she could break away, knocking the air out of her with a jolt.

“It’s only a kiss Buffy. Keep still. Not going to hurt you.”

She heard his words, but all the self-defence classes in the world hadn’t prepared her for the reality of a strong determined man who was intent on . . . what? She couldn’t bring herself to even think the word. Her knee made contact with his thigh as she tried to get her body to coordinate with her mind and at least do something she’d been so good at in class.

“Liam, don’t.” Fury, indignation, panic. She felt them all as she fought him. He swore as she managed to get a hand free and hit him hard across the side of the head and then he had her again, immobilised, her hands pinned to her sides, her head at an awkward angle as they slid together across the plastic into the corner of the seat.

“Not going to hurt you,” he mumbled. “Just want to remind you what it was like.”

“It was never like this.”

For a moment their eyes caught and held and their harsh, ragged breath seemed to synchronise.

His first attempt to kiss her left a wet trail across her cheek as his mouth missed the mark. Buffy heard him grunt as he shifted both her wrists to one hand so that he had one free to keep her face still. His large fingers squashed her cheeks and puckered her lips as his mouth came down on them. For a moment she couldn’t breathe at all as he clumsily tried to get some message across to her. She didn’t know what. Regret? Dominance? Despite his protestations that he wasn’t going to hurt her, she knew it might end that way if she struggled any more so she went limp instead, and endured it, trying to tell him with her silence and stillness, what her struggles had failed to do.

The frantic kiss slowed down, as he mistook her stillness for acquiescence and his mouth sought to caress rather than punish. Letting go of her wrists he brought his other hand up to her face as he tried, almost with desperation now, to make her remember.

There was more than one way to walk out on Liam Angelus. He’d given her a real fright when he’d pounced on her. For a split second she’d really thought he meant to go all the way. Now, oddly enough as the panic subsided, she almost felt sorry for him. This was possibly the most stupid thing he’d ever done and she felt him ease off as he seemed to realise it too.

Still holding her face, he lifted his head. Surprise, that’s what she saw. As if he’d really thought he could stop her marrying William with one kiss.

“Let me go, Angel,” she said quietly, feeling him flinch at the sound of a name she hadn’t used in years.

No-one ever called him that now. Unless they’d known him way back, in a time that would never come again.

Words were totally redundant when her silence had said so much. Liam moved away from her, offering her his hand, which she ignored. She sat up awkwardly, pulling at her jacket which had slipped down over her shoulders, looking around for her purse and trying to avoid Liam’s eyes that were now rapidly filling with shame. If she looked at him, she was going to say something she would probably regret, and besides, she needed all her energy for standing on legs that were trembling so much she was wondering how they were going to get her out of the door.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.” This time his hand on her arm was gentler. Raising his face to her he seemed to realise that she had the power now. “Please?”

She thought she heard him whisper a soft, sorry as she made it across the small room and closed the door behind her. Sorry for what, she didn’t know. That he’d failed to convince her she didn’t want William? That he’d failed to help her when she’d asked him? Simply that he’d failed her? She ran out of the garage, and crossed the road.

Buffy sat on the last boardwalk bench before home, rubbing at wrists that still felt the imprint of Liam’s fingers, her lips still tingling from the violence of the kiss. They felt as if they were swelling, something she wasn’t going to be able to explain away convincingly to William, so she took out her lipstick and with a shaky hand, covered up the evidence of Liam’s assault.

The thought that she might tell anyone about this made her laugh. Did Liam really think she was going to go straight to William and demand that he go defend her honour? That’s what he’d meant when he’d asked her to keep it quiet. William was a dangerous man, Liam had spread the rumours himself and for a moment, at the end, he’d looked almost ready to believe his own lies. Had actually looked scared.

Buffy checked her watch. Hardly any time had passed since she’d left the magic shop. Then how was it that she felt as if she’d come a long, long way in so short a time? The tide was in and listening to the waves breaking rhythmically onto the shore helped her regain some equilibrium. Anchoring her back in a familiar world. It was only a kiss. A horrible parody of the passion she’d shared with Liam, but just a kiss nevertheless. Something she could deal with, because that’s what she did.

All she needed were a few moments to get her breathing straight and let her heart calm down, then she’d walk home to her house and to William and thank God she had them. A place to shelter from life’s storms, and someone who loved her unconditionally. A source of strength for times like these.

Liam could do his worst, it didn’t matter any more. He only had power over them if they let him, and they weren’t going to give him that.

The war-paint and the smile, they’d done no more than paper over the cracks and when she walked into the house she thought William’s puzzled expression was because she’d made a mess of the lipstick and somehow smeared it onto her face. He tilted his head and stared as her smile wavered under his scrutiny.

“Your face,” he said touching his own cheek with splayed fingers to indicate what he meant. “How did you get so dirty?”

Glancing in the mirror, she was startled to see black streaks clearly outlined on her cheeks where Liam had held her.

William was smiling now, plucking a tissue out of the box on the hall table and leaning in to wipe her clean. The smile faded when he saw her expression, and the heat in her face which she tried to hide by covering her cheeks with her hands.

“Buffy?”

“It’s nothing.” Pushing past him she made for the stairs, but he was in front of her before she got there, his face clouded with concern, reaching for her even as she swerved to avoid him. His fingers brushed the oily mark on her cheek, and she jerked her head away, terrified that he was going to do the math and go confront Liam there and then.

“What happened, love?” His fingers were black where he’d touched her and he was staring at them intently, rubbing them together as realisation dawned.

“Son of a bitch.”

Lies. Once they started, where did they stop? How did you have a relationship with someone you loved, based on deception? What Buffy wanted to do was shoulder past him and run upstairs. Lock herself in the bathroom, and wash her face as she thought of a plausible excuse that would explain away the engine oil. One that wouldn’t send William headlong into a fight with Liam.

What she should do, was tell him what had happened. A version of it, anyway. Even as she fought with herself over the need for honesty some part of her still wanted to protect William from himself.

Mirroring what Liam had done earlier, William raised a hand and carefully traced the marks on her face, his expression set in stone. His eyes colder than she’d ever seen them.

Then she was being crushed against him, too hard for it to be comfortable and so that she could barely breathe. He held her with a grim, angry determination that she felt even though she couldn’t see him. And she held on too, twisting her hands into his shirt to keep him there, with her, because she knew what he was capable of, and, for the first time since she’d know him, it scared her to death.

Tbc...