Chapter 16

I took so much for granted. Things were looking good. Then in the blink of an eye it was all gone. It’s taught me to notice every moment. Appreciate each one of them.


William’s grandmother stayed a week and by the end of it, sneaky as it had been, both she and Buffy were in agreement that their ambush of William had been the right thing to do

“I can’t tell you how excited I am about the wedding,” Susan said as she followed Buffy down to the basement. “Will you be married here?”

“Mom would kill me if we weren’t,” Buffy replied, offering her hand as Susan negotiated the steps. “Be careful, they’re steeper than they look. I’ve fallen down here more than once.”

“I’m fine, my dear. And this will make the perfect wedding venue. Have you a date in mind yet?”

Buffy shook her head. “Not really. I don’t want to push him on this, do you know what I mean?”

Susan stood by her as they gazed at the dusty racks of wine. “Of course I do. That you’ve brought him this far in so short a space of time is amazing in itself. But not so surprising, now that I’ve met you,” she added, folding her arms and tilting her head the same way William did. “I accepted a proposal from William’s grandfather just two weeks after we’d met and I never regretted it. Sometimes you just know.”

Buffy nodded, because there was no need to explain what, or how it had happened. They both loved William and wanted the best for him, it was as simple as that

She reached out for Susan, hearing the slight break as she talked about her husband and feeling that she’d found a considerable ally in William’s grandmother. It was hard to pin an age on the older woman as she stood there in her jeans and tee-shirt. With her hair dyed a honey blonde and her trim figure, she looked much younger than the early sixties that Buffy had worked out she must be. Taking both her hands, she gave them a squeeze as they stood quietly together.

“Take good care of him,” Susan said after a while. “I’m not sure he’ll ever be back to how he was before this all happened.”

“I will, don’t worry about that.” Buffy turned to the wine racks, wondering which one she should offer Susan as a parting gift. She didn’t have a clue which were the more valuable ones. “What was he like?” she asked.

“Affectionate, generous. Always very independent.” Susan’s smile turned a little sad as she remembered. “We loved him dearly and I suppose we spoiled him, but he grew into a fine young man. I’m not sure he ever forgave me for taking him away from his parents. Or them for letting him go so easily.” She stopped for a moment, her lips pressed together, then she reached for one of the less dusty wine bottles and levered it out of the rack. “I’ll always believe I did the right thing though. A child needs stability and we tried to give him that.”

“I’m sure you did, Susan. He knows you just wanted the best for him.” Buffy glanced at the bottle which Susan was staring at intently, her eyes wide. “Would you like to take that one back with you - as a gift?”

Susan ran a finger over the label, wiping away the last lingering traces of dust and for a moment she seemed lost in a world of her own. “It’s a Margot,” she said in a quiet voice. “We brought back a case of this from one of our holidays in France and I still have a bottle.”

The Margot? Buffy leaned over and looked at the bottle, her heart giving a quick thump as she remembered that this was the label Tara had mentioned at the open day. It had freaked her out at the time, but at least now she knew why it was important. “I’d like you to have it,” she said. “I think I’d already picked it out for you.”

“That’s very kind of you, Buffy.” Susan took a last look at the bottle then carefully replaced it. “But no, keep it for your silver wedding anniversary. Would you do that for me?”

“Silver wedding?” Buffy turned to her. “That seems such a long way away.”

“It’ll come soon enough, Buffy, believe me. Remember to make the most of every moment together, they’re precious moments and it’s too easy to squander time when you’re young.”

Buffy took her hand again, seeing Susan’s eyes shining with unshed tears, and she contemplated the years ahead with William by her side. Years she hadn’t really thought too much about. She’d been so focused on the here and now that the implication of what they were actually doing hadn’t really sunk in.

“I hope you didn’t mind me asking about William.”

“Not at all, Buffy.” Susan sniffed and gave her a watery smile. “You have every right to know about the man you’ll be spending the rest of your life with. It was the wine. Just caught me unexpectedly and reminded me of my William.” She sighed heavily and looked down to where their hands were joined. Lifting them up, she studied Buffy’s ring. “When you’re with someone for so long it’s hard to believe you’ll never see them again. Sometimes it feels as if he’s in another room, or just popped out for some cigarettes and any minute now he’ll walk back in through the door with that smile of his.”

“Choose another bottle,” Buffy said, feeling her own eyes misting over. “Please, I’d really like you to have one. And we’ll bring the Margot to England and drink it with you, how about that?”

“I’ll be a very old lady by then.”

“We’ll all be older. Please, go ahead.” She motioned Susan towards the racks and backed away to sit on the steps. Both of them needed a moment to catch their breath and as she watched William’s grandmother looking over the wine, Buffy thought about what she’d said.

The man she was going to be with for the rest of her life.

Would she love him more in twenty-five years time or would she just love him differently? She was in this for life, as he was, which meant that they could only grow closer. And Susan was right. Youth was wasted on the young. Suddenly Buffy could well imagine that silver wedding anniversary arriving in a flash. Looking up one day and wondering where the years had gone. And the thought that one of them might be left alone after so many happy years? For the first time she realised what her gran had gone through after her granddad had died, and to a certain extent what her mother had endured after the divorce.

A flutter of panic gripped her as she thought of how she’d feel if William wasn’t there any more. He was already so much a part of her life that it was hard to imagine living without him. She shook herself and tried to focus instead on the years before them. Years of togetherness and companionship. Maybe children to gladden their hearts and help turn their hair grey. Years filled with love. She’d tell him, she decided. Every day she’d tell him she loved him. And time wasn’t going to sneak up on them, because she wasn’t going to let it.

Susan returned with a bottle and Buffy stood up.

“Can I have this one?” she said, showing it to her.

“Of course you can.” Buffy tried to look knowledgeable, but she had no idea what Susan had chosen, although she guessed it wouldn’t be a very valuable one, and together they made their way back upstairs.

“I guess the next time we’ll see you will be at the wedding,” Buffy said as they went back into the kitchen.

“You’re going to be very happy, love. I just know it.” Susan looked around and located her purse on the kitchen table. “And keep in touch. I want to know all about the preparations and such.”

“I will,” Buffy said, folding her in a hug. “And thank you,” she whispered before she let go.

“You’re more than welcome, my dear. I just know he’s going to be safe with you.” Susan patted her affectionately on the shoulder. In William she was handing over her most precious possession in the time-honoured fashion, and Buffy knew then that this meeting had been as much for her as it had been for William and his grandmother. Susan’s visit had been a kind of formal blessing on what they were about to do and Buffy hadn’t realised how much she’d needed it, until now.

Ritual had always been a part of her life. She’d been brought up to respect tradition by grandparents who wouldn’t have looked out of place in Victorian times and they’d have approved of this wholeheartedly. For Susan it was an ending, of sorts, as she passed on the responsibilities she’d embraced so wholeheartedly, and for Buffy it was a beginning as she took them on. It was to her that William would look for comfort and consolation from now on. Her that he’d rely on. Laugh with and cry with. Decisions about their future would be theirs to make together. It was both exciting and a little overwhelming.

“I’m just a phone call away,” Susan said, almost as if she could read her thoughts. “If you ever need to talk, you know where I am.”

“I will.” Buffy looked up as William entered the kitchen and asked if his gran was ready for the drive to the airport. A lump formed in her throat as he stood, hands in pockets, smiling at them. She loved him more, she thought, with each moment that passed. Every time she looked at him her heart seemed to grow a little larger and just now it was threatening to burst right out of her chest.

“Something wrong?” he asked her when his gran had left to finish packing.

Buffy walked into his outstretched arms and let him hold her. She couldn’t put into words what she was feeling at that moment, so she didn’t try. Too many emotions tangled up together. Gratitude and relief among them. Maybe even a little fear that she wouldn’t be up to the task of loving him as he deserved. And the thought that she might be left one day, as her gran and Susan had been, with nothing but fond memories made her feel a panic she’d never experienced before. It found its release eventually in a loud sniff that announced tears she couldn’t stop, or control.

“What is it, love?”

William’s voice held a hint of panic too, his hand tightening in her hair as she burrowed her face into his shirt and let it soak them up. And when she looked at him through misted eyes, it hit her all at once.

“I’m happy,” she said in a trembling voice. Another hiccupping sob escaped her, then a small laugh. “Just so happy I’ve found you, and for some reason it’s made me want to cry and I can’t seem to stop.”

“Hey.” William kissed the end of her nose and slipped his hand into hers. “Come sit with me on the swing, and have your cry, it’s okay, really it is.”

The cool bite in the air made her shiver as they settled themselves onto the swing. The place where they’d had their first kiss. Already this old house was starting to resonate with memories of them. She’d watched him from the study window on that first day, fallen off the wall with him, made love in the hot tub. Not much yet, but one day everywhere she looked there’d be reminders of things they’d done. Echoes of things they’d said.

She shivered again and as he pulled her close and held her, she felt herself relax. The tidal wave of emotion that had threatened, so unexpectedly, to engulf her was ebbing away and the world was starting to feel normal again. Leaning against his warm body, his arms wrapped reassuringly around her. Listening to the steady beating of his heart and feeling his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. It calmed her.

“Sorry about that,” she said, searching her pocket for a tissue. “Don’t know what came over me.”

“I love you,” he said in return, then he bent his head and kissed every inch of her tear stained face. By the time he’d finished she was crying again.

“That was supposed to help,” he said wryly.

“It did,” she replied, sniffing loudly. “I love you too, very much. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“We mustn’t let a day go by without saying it. Promise me we won’t, Will.”

“I promise,” he said solemnly. “I’ll never get tired of saying that, or hearing it,” he added.

Buffy felt another small ripple of panic. If she loved him this much now, what was she going to be like when they finally got round to drinking that wine? She took a breath and willed herself calm again. “How does May sound, Will?”

“Sounds good,” he said, nodding. “Not too many guests though. Don’t fancy being stared at all day by hundreds of people I don’t know.”

“Just family and a few friends then.”

“Gran says we’re not to run off to Vegas like my parents did.”

“Your parents got married in Vegas?” Buffy stared at him wide-eyed. “Not exactly the picture I had in mind of them.”

William chuckled to himself. “Conventional they definitely are not. Dad was a fully blown punk back in the seventies. Bet gran didn’t show you those photographs. Can you imagine how that went down at Harvard? Daft prat still bleaches his hair. Like he’s stuck in a time-warp or something.”

Buffy gave her nose a final blow and sat up. “I always had this vision of a hard nosed business couple in sharp suits,” she said. “Will they mind dressing in costume for the wedding?”

“Had a feeling you were planning something like that.” William stood up and looked at his watch. “No, they’ll love anything that gets them attention. Must get gran to the airport. You sure you’re okay now?”

“I’m fine, Will.” She stood too and pushed back her hair. “Need to go wash my face, don’t want her seeing me like this.”

“Come on then,” William replied, lightly tracing the tear tracks on her face. “It’s not like you to break down like that.”

“I’m okay.” She could see how anxious he still was and that he was trying to cover it. “Really I am,” she assured him. “Your gran started talking about your granddad and that made me think of mine. It’s sad, when you lose someone you love so much. Guess it kind of scared me, that’s all.”

William pulled her close again. She heard him sigh as they stood quietly and thought about what she’d just said.

“We’re going to have a long time together, Buffy.”

He said it with such conviction that she looked up, an unspoken question in her eyes.

“I’ve seen it,” he said. “You and me with grey hair, in the cellar cracking open a bottle of wine.”

“That’s just what your gran asked me to do. Wants us to save the Margot for our twenty fifth wedding anniversary.”

“I was thinking more Golden, what with the hair and everything.” William raised his eyebrows. “Do you think it will still be drinkable in fifty years time?”

“Fifty years?” Buffy managed a smile and followed his cue as he turned to go indoors. “So when did you become psychic then?”

“Night we first kissed. Saw it so clearly, it almost felt like a memory.”

“Really?” Buffy ducked under his arm as he held the door open for her and then he was holding her again. Framing her face with his hands. Searching it with still-too-anxious eyes.

“Yes, really,” he said. “But, Buffy. That future’s a long way off. Stop worrying about it. Isn’t this what matters?”

His touch brought her back, anchoring her in the present where she belonged and the strange feeling that had settled on her after her talk with Susan finally lifted. He was right, and so had his gran been when she’d told her to savour each moment they had together. Buffy wasn’t going to look into the mirror one day and wonder where the grey hairs had come from, she was going to count every one of them. Metaphorically speaking of course. William’s and her own.

“May it is,” she said. “Shall we tell your gran?”

“You tell her. Are you coming in?”

“Yeah.” Buffy stepped into the kitchen and touched her face, wondering how awful she looked from the crying. In response, William ripped off a paper towel and ran it under the cold tap. She stood still and let him clean her up because she wanted him to know she needed him as much as he needed her. She’d been a source of strength for him, and he would be for her too.

“What have you got on this afternoon?” he asked as he worked.

“Was going to take Tara and Willow their portrait, but I’m probably too emotional to go near them today, I’ll see how I feel.”

“Want to go out for a meal, or something when I get back? Maybe take a drive down the coast?”

“That’d be neat.”

William took one last look at her face, pronounced himself satisfied, then pitched the paper towel into the trash.

“Come and wave gran off.”

“She’s a nice lady, Will. I’ve enjoyed having her here.”

“Want to honeymoon in England? See where I squandered my youth

“Sure do.” Buffy linked her arm with his and walked with him to the hall. Susan was waiting, her coat over her arm, suitcase by her side. William tutted when he saw that she’d carried it down by herself.

She waved away his protest, leaned towards Buffy and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’ve had a wonderful time, my dear. Thank you.”

Buffy kissed her back. “You’re welcome any time, especially next May.”

“May? Oh that’s wonderful.” They hugged again in a flurry of last-minute promises to start thinking about costumes and guest lists and then they were driving away.

Buffy waved them off, and when they were out of sight she did something she hadn’t done for a long while. She lay down on the floor of the hall, closed her eyes and listened to the ticking of the grandfather clock. The boards didn’t smell so much of polish like they used to and she thought rather guiltily that she ought to do something about it. But maybe not. She opened her eyes and looked around at the antiques that were so much a part of her life. A life that was definitely too short to spend polishing floors. Her gran would probably turn in her grave, but Buffy thought it was time for the modern world to creep into this house at last. Nothing too radical since she was bound by the terms of the will, but she needed to put her stamp on it and William did too, if they were going to make it their home.

And later, after she’d done her workout and taken a shower, she was rooting through her drawer for clean underwear when she found the picture of her and Liam that she’d kept for so long.

Throwing it in the trash was hard, but she couldn’t think of a single reason to keep it. Not any more.

William wasn’t due back until four o’ clock, so she spent the rest of the afternoon indulging in retail therapy, since there was nothing like it for putting the world into perspective. The speciality shops along the front were mostly shuttered and closed for the season, but the small mall gave her the opportunity to while away an hour or so. A close encounter with Cordelia near the exit caused her to duck, giggling, behind a giant cardboard turkey, and that reminded Buffy Thanksgiving was nearly upon them. Her first as host, so she needed to start planning that.

A new pair of boots cheered her up immensely and by the time she’d chosen a lipstick and some perfume for her evening out, she was starting to feel extremely embarrassed about her emotional collapse back at the house. As William had said, not her style at all. Still, it had brought home to her just how much she loved him now, and how much she wanted to marry him, which was no bad thing. It was almost as if today, she needed to feel the extent of her love in all its raw intensity. They were only words, but it was important to say them, and often. And all those little gestures and extra things you do willingly for the one you love, they were important too.

Loving someone was both incredibly complicated and beautifully simple, she decided. There’d be times when it all fell effortlessly into place, and times, as much as they loved each other, when they’d have to work that little bit harder and make more of an effort. William made her glow with love. He adored her and make her feel like a goddess. But sometimes he could make her stomach turn over and twist into a nervous knot. When he was in the throes of a panic attack, or mumbling in his sleep about things she’d never begin to understand. When she looked at the mess he’d made of his skin in his hopelessness and despair.

On the way back she sat for a while on one of the boardwalk benches and watched the fading afternoon light glinting off the rippling surface of the sea. Her lifetime companion. Constant, yet ever-changing. Beautiful, beguiling, sinister. Buffy stood up and moved to the rail, gripped it tightly and threw back her head, letting the spray catch her as it pounded the sea wall. Closing her eyes, she welcomed it as it battered her face and made her feel as if she was at the helm of a ship slicing through the waves.

And she was so engrossed that she didn’t realise someone was standing beside her, watching her with his deep, dark gaze.


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William hugged his gran one last time as her flight was announced, assuring her that they’d keep in touch. It was a tremendous relief that things were starting to feel normal again and that at last he could go back and revisit his roots with a more objective eye.

He remembered now that his gran had always been small and that she’d had those crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes for as long as he could remember. When he’d last seen her in England everything had looked wrong, but now his tilted world was righting itself again.

“Phone your parents. Let them know the date.” It was part request, part command as she kissed him goodbye. Her hand lingered on his shoulder, then she reached up and ruffled his hair. “I’m glad it’s all sorted,” she said cheerfully. “Now get yourself home before it gets dark. And drive carefully.”

“Yeah, all sorted.” He kissed her soft cheek and stepped back. “Bye gran.”

It sounded so simple when she said that. As if someone had waved a magic wand and made it better in a flash of light and stars. She hadn’t seen the journey in between, so maybe that’s how it looked to her. The last time she’d seen him he’d been a wreck and had probably frightened her to death. Hell, he’d probably looked like death with his prison haircut and gaunt face.

There’d always be something of that person left, even thought he didn’t show too much on the outside any more. The panic attacks, the nightmares, the anger, they weren’t going to go away just like that, but they were no longer what his life was all about, either. And as long as he had Buffy to go back to and remind him how wonderful the world could be, then he knew he was going to survive.

It was a great feeling. Driving home. He said it out loud. Home. His home now, and he remembered how happy it had made him when Joyce had said it when she’d first brought him here. Almost as if she’d known then what was going to happen. William shook his head. He was getting some strange ideas along with this new life of his. Maybe it was just his heightened awareness after being numb for so long, but with everything that had happened to him since he’d come here, he was almost starting to believe in magic.

How else did he explain all this? Pure magic, plain and simple. Buffy had had him under her spell from the moment he’d set eyes on her. Bewitched him with those eyes, hypnotised him with her wise words and held him in place with her gentle touch. She’d wrapped him safely in her arms, and in doing so, she’d set him free.

William laughed to himself. It sounded like a poem so maybe he’d write it down when he got back, something he hadn’t done in a long while. And he thought he’d call Xander and see if he wanted to go for a drink tomorrow, because he needed to ask him something. Decent bloke, Xander. Someone he felt he could identify with and he couldn’t think of a better person to have as his best man.

A slight panic filled him as he thought of the ceremony and the people who’d be watching him, and how he’d probably forget all his lines and make a fool of himself. But it was normal panic. No more than any other prospective bridegroom went through before his wedding day, he assured himself. The old William wouldn’t have like it any better, but he’d gladly go through it, for her.

The costumes were a nice touch, and not just because they’d look good in the photographs. Dressed as someone else he wouldn’t feel so exposed, and she knew that.

A rosy glow of contentment settled over him as he turned onto the seafront and slowed for the lights. Grab a shower, talk Buffy into a little bit of afternoon delight and then he thought they’d take a cab to the chinese restaurant further down the coast. That way they could both drink. Tonight he wanted to get drunk with her. Hell, he had a life again. And it was bloody fantastic.

And that’s when he saw them. As he was pulling away, so it was fleeting, just a blur of images really. He braked sharply, but he couldn’t stop because the car behind beeped its horn and forced him to keep driving. So he drove away with the picture in his mind. A snapshot of Buffy and Liam, together. He was holding her hand. She was looking at him. That’s all he’d seen, but by the time he was back and parking the car, his brain had very unhelpfully filled in all the details for him. And run through all the worst possible scenarios.

He entered the house feeling as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over him.

By the time he got to the kitchen he was already ashamed that his first feeling had been one of jealousy. Of course there was nothing going on. His rational mind kicked in and assured him of that, but he should have stopped to see if she needed any help. He hadn’t because he didn’t want to look like the jealous lover he was. And he knew that if he’d gone barrelling in there, it wouldn’t have ended in hugs and puppies.

Why were they holding hands though? They’d looked as if they were holding hands. Why in the blazes would Buffy want to hold Liam’s hand?

It was only just gone four o’clock, but William figured that the sun was over the yardarm somewhere in the world, so he poured himself a large whiskey and downed it in one

Nothing to worry about mate, he told himself sternly as he spread open the newspaper on the kitchen table. Buffy wouldn’t do that, she just wouldn’t.

He reached for his glasses and put them on. Stared determinedly at the page and tried to think of anything, but what he thought he’d just seen.


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“Liam?” She started when she saw who it was, her embarrassment at being watched quickly changing to annoyance as his mouth turned up in a grin.

“You used to do that when you were a kid,” he said, never taking his eyes off her.

Buffy pulled her jacket closed and attempted to smooth her ruffled feathers. Glad that the sea was making so much noise because then he couldn’t hear the thudding of her heart. This was the closest she’d been to him since that night and despite all her protestations to the contrary, her skin still prickled with shame and guilt as she remembered.

“I used to imagine you were a little sea-nymph, one of Neptune’s daughters or something.”

Buffy stared at him, incredulously, as he treated her to the thousand-watt, Liam smile. The one that made her insides melt and her knees tremble. At least it used to.

“Still big with the bullshit I see,” she said in as even a voice as she could manage. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”

“Buffy.”

His hand touched her arm as she turned for the bench where she’d left her parcels and she shook him off, picked up her things and started walking.

“Buffy.” He trotted up and fell in step beside her. “Wait up, I just want to talk to you.”

“About what?” She kept her head down and quickened her pace. “What could we possibly have to talk about?

This time when he touched her, he circled her wrist with his fingers and held her in place. Buffy stopped, not wanting to cause a scene and stared at his oil-stained hand.

“Let me go.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“I said, let me go.”

Liam dropped her wrist and took a step back, lifting his palms in a gesture of peace. “Please don’t run away,” he said. “You and me, we need to talk.”

“No we don’t.” She should be doing just what he said. Running away as fast as she could. Instead, she was still standing there, staring at him. Trying to work out what the hell he wanted.

“Oh, come on, Buffy.” He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and tried her with the smile again. “How long are you going to be mad at me?”

“Try the rest of your life.”

“Okay, I deserve that,” he said, moving in front of her. “I was a total jerk that night. I was drunk and I treated you abominably. At least let me say sorry.”

“Are you for real?”

“Totally,” he said, changing his expression to the little boy look that always worked so well.

“It’s been a long time, Liam. Why now?

“Because we’re both moving on with our lives. Figured I could use your forgiveness before I moved on with mine.”

“You want me to forgive you?”

“Sure as hell do.”

“Okay, I forgive you. Now, let me pass.”

“Properly Buffy. I need you to really forgive me, not just say the words. Look, please, sit down.” He gestured to another bench and spread his fingers. “Five minutes. Not too much to ask, is it?”

Buffy glanced at her watch. William would be back from the airport soon and she wanted to be at home when he arrived. “Five minutes,” she said, cautiously sliding onto the seat.

“Say you forgive me, Buffy.”

She’d forgotten how big he was. It was one of the things she’d loved about him. His strength, the way he dwarfed her with his presence, making her feel helpless and feminine. She used to love the feel of her small hand in his big one. It used to make her feel protected and safe, like a lady walking out with her knight in shining armour. Now she knew it had just made her weak and dependant. Something they’d both encouraged.

“It wasn’t all your fault,” she said with a sigh. “Yes, you were a total jerk, but I was to blame too.”

“So you can forgive me?” He looked at her hopefully.

“I didn’t say that,” she said avoiding his gaze.

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped together and nodded. “Maybe it was too much to ask.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t.” Buffy sneaked a glance at his handsome face, then quickly looked away. “It’s something I’m going to have to think about.”

“I understand. You’re really going to marry him?”

“Yes.”

Liam tipped his head sideways. “And you honestly believe he’s as innocent as he says?”

“That’s it.” Buffy stood and snatched at her parcels. “I am so not having this conversation with you.”

“Rape, it’s an ugly word, Buffy. I’m worried about you. What if he was guilty?”

“Shit, Liam. How dare you do this?” She rounded on him, her voice laced with anger. “Don’t ever say that again. Ever.”

He met her gaze, his look part pity, part concern. “You can’t live in denial, Buffy. Do you know what people are saying about you?”

She wanted to hit him, but knew it would only strengthen his argument if she went on the defensive. Instead she managed to calm herself sufficiently to make as graceful an exit as she could.

“I don’t give a fuck what people say.”

“Buffy.”


She turned and walked away. Not too fast, but not too slowly either. He made no move to follow, but she could feel him watching her until she finally turned off the seafront and took the long way home so he couldn’t see her any more. Only then did she stop and suck in a few deep breaths in an effort to stop the trembling that had taken hold of her. Damn, she thought, glancing at her watch again. If she didn’t run, William was going to be home before her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this.

But when she studied her reflection in a shop window she discovered that she looked relatively normal, on the outside. So she slowed down her pace and tried to forget Liam’s pathetic attempt to make her doubt William, and concentrated instead on what she was going to tell him about her encounter. If she told him at all. Did he really need the upset that this would surely cause him? Probably not, but what if he found out from someone else?

The car was parked in the drive when she got back and she still hadn’t decided when or how, or even if she should tell him. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? And the last thing she wanted was him rushing off for a confrontation with Liam. All that was at stake here was her honour and pride, which she knew William would probably want to defend. Whether for some misguided macho, man-thing, or just good old fashioned chivalry, it didn’t matter. He’d do it for her, even if he didn’t care about what people thought of him.

Hell, she thought as she opened the front door. This was the complicated part of loving someone. Where you did something they might not like in order to protect them from being hurt.

He was sitting at the kitchen table when she got in, hunched over a newspaper.

“Just made some tea,” he said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Want me to get you one?”

“Thanks.”

Buffy put down her parcels and sat on the bench seat with her back to the table.

“Your gran get off okay?”

“She did. Buy anything nice?”

“New perfume, here, what do you think?” She offered him her wrist and he took her hand and rubbed his nose over it, sniffing deeply.

“S’nice.” He dropped her wrist and swung his legs over the bench. “What kind of tea do you want?”

Buffy shrugged, “Will,” she began, knowing that she ought to tell him about Liam, but surprised at how hard it was to get the words out.

“Yes?”

He was looking at her strangely. Sitting like she was now, with his back to the table and staring at her intently.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she said.

His shoulders sagged. She saw that and when he leaned over and placed a swift hard kiss on her lips, his hand clasped firmly behind her neck, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Whiskey?” She frowned a little as she watched his face turn pink with guilt, and then he was up and at the sink, filling the kettle. “Felt like getting drunk tonight.” He turned to her. “Do you feel like getting drunk tonight?”

She did. But first there was something she had to do. Standing up, she crossed the kitchen and stood behind him. He stilled for a second, then placed the kettle carefully on the stove. He didn’t turn around, but he was listening, and waiting. Almost as if he knew.

She wanted to make love to him first, but that might look as if she was softening him up for the blow. He’d understand. Surely he’d understand? Just as he had unfinished business with Mandy, it seemed she had some with Liam, too.

“Buffy,” he began.

“No, let me speak first,” she said, noticing that her hand was still shaking. “I need to tell you something.”

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

It was all he needed to hear, because in that moment, he realised something. Something he should have known from the start. That whatever she was going to tell him, it didn’t matter. He loved her and always would. And that was the bottom line.

Tell her, he thought. Let her know how much you trust her, tell her how much you love her.

Kissing is just the touching of two mouths. Lips pressing against each other, tongues entwining. Hard or soft. The pleasure sweet or intense. That’s all it is. A physical thing.

Until you’re in love.

William couldn’t think of a better way to tell her the things he wanted to say. It had been his first expression of love for her, that sweet kiss they’d shared on the porch swing. Even then, way beyond a simple kiss.

And now?

A gentle kiss on her soft, full lips to let her know that whatever she said it would be okay. To let her know that she should be honest with him and that he always would be with her. That she was never to fear him, because he would never do anything to hurt her.

A hot, burning kiss. The kind that made their senses spin and their eyes turn hazy with lust. The kind that told her how hard and strong he could be. Reminding her he’d seen and done things that would make most people turn away screaming in horror. That told her she had nothing to worry about with him at her side, because there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

And as he calmed down, and thought that maybe he’d better let her speak at last, the kiss slowed to warm velvet and honeyed-sweetness. An erotic whisper that made them quiver and shake, and said, I want you, and this is what you do to me. You shatter me and unravel me. And only you can put me back together.

“Will.” She said it on a gasping breath. Panting for air, her forehead against his chest. And when she looked up, he could see in her wide, startled eyes and the way her fingers twisted into his shirt, as if she’d never let him go, that she’d got his message.

“Will, I saw Liam today. He wanted to talk to me, apologise for, you know, what happened at the Bronze.”

She looked away.

“And?”

Buffy pulled his shirt even tighter, burying her face there. Muffling her voice when she spoke, as if she didn’t want him to hear what she was going to say.

“He said people are talking, about us. I didn’t believe him though, he’s just being malicious, isn’t he?”

She raised her head and searched his face for confirmation.

“We always knew this might happen, right?” He couldn’t lie to her. People were bound to talk.

“I suppose so. I didn’t believe him, Will. Really I didn’t.”

“Shh.” He soothed her panic with another kiss. “I saw you. When I drove past Should have stopped.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” William bit his lip, knowing he should be honest with her too. “I thought you were holding hands. Nearly crashed the bloody car when I saw you.”

“He grabbed my wrist because I wouldn’t stop.”

William lifted her hand, and stared at her wrist. The lingering hint of perfume now mingled with Liam’s touch. “If he ever does that again, I’m going to beat him to within an inch of his life,” he said quietly.

“Will, no.” She stared at him, obviously shocked that he could say such things.

“Bad choice of words,” he said with a dry laugh. “He’s got no right, Buffy. To make you do anything you don’t want to do. He touches you again, he’s got me to answer to.”

The tension she’d been holding let go in a nervous laugh as she stepped back and pushed her hands into her hair. She must know he was capable. Knew what he’d been through in prison. Knew he had a wicked-looking knife somewhere in one of his boxes.

“I’ll just talk to him,” he said, seeing how much he’d scared her. “If he ever hassles you again, I’ll just go talk to him. Very sternly,” he added in an attempt to lighten what was rapidly becoming a deadly serious moment.

A long silence stretched between them. Both of them thinking of the right thing to say next. Neither of them wanting to mess up.

She spoke first, and she said it just right. “Thank you Will. For wanting to defend me. It makes me feel safe.”

William closed his eyes, but he could still see her. Looking at him with such love it dazzled him.

“And thank you,” he said. For giving me my life back. I don’t thank you enough for that.”

“Yes you do.” Buffy moved to the stove and started the kettle boiling. Took out a mug and dropped a tea bag into it. “Want me to make you another? Yours must be cold by now.”

“Thanks.” William watched as she lost herself in the mundane task of making the tea. Wiping down the counter. Getting on with life.

These things were important. Needed saying and sorting. But so was everything else. They could stand here and pour out their angst about things that may or may not happen. They could argue and cry and plead and threaten. Or they could say what needed to be said, know that they still loved each other, then get on with living.

“I’m going for a shower,” he said. “Want to come?”

“Only if you make love to me.”

“That was the general idea,” he said, catching her and lifting her off her feet. “S’been nice having gran here, but kind of…”

“Restricting?” she said, smirking down at him.

“Try frustrating.”

“Guess we ought to do something about it then.”

“Guess we should.”

The lovemaking helped him regain something of the peaceful contentment he’d felt earlier. They did it slowly and carefully. Lingering over each touch and listening to each word spoken. Giving and receiving in equal measure. Filling their world with nothing but each other. And afterwards, as they lay, damp and satisfied on the bed, William reminded himself that on a path strewn with roses there were bound to be a few thorns here and there.

Best not to go barefoot or leave himself too exposed. He cared alright, about what people thought of them, even if he told Buffy he didn’t. All he wanted was to be left in peace. Easing himself out of Buffy’s arms, he left her to sleep, pulled on his jeans and searched for his smokes. Just the thought of the thing he’d become in prison made his gut twist. He’d do it again, if he had to. But there’d have to be a bloody good reason for the worst of Spike to make a re-appearance.

Like her, for example. William ghosted a hand over Buffy’s hair, and knew that he’d fight to his last breath for her. And he was out of cigarettes. No matter, he thought throwing the packet into the trash, the giving up was long overdue, although proving a lot more difficult that he’d thought it would be. The packet missed and when he stooped to pick it up he noticed the photograph, half hidden by a tissue. Tilting his head, he squinted at it and saw Buffy, very young, smiling back at him.

And he already knew who else would be in it. Sure enough, when he pulled it out there was Liam, his arm around Buffy, looking as if he’d won first prize at the County Fair. Buffy looked happy. The way you do when you’re young and in love. William dropped it hastily as she stirred, and lay back down beside her, feeling like a jealous idiot for doubting her, even for a second. She’d thrown it away before her encounter with Liam, that had to say something.

Had to say that that part of her life was well and truly over.

“William?”

Her eyes opened and she stretched lazily, all the while looking at him with her sleepy, unfocused gaze. William wriggled out of his jeans and rolled on top of her, the suddenness of his movement making her giggle.

“You promised me food,” she pouted.

“Want me to stop then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Good, ‘cos you know, we’ve got all night.”

“We’ve got the rest of our lives, Will.”

“I’ll go nice and slow then.”

“Yes.” Her voice was a tremulous whisper. “Nice and slow, Will. We’ve got all the time in the world.”


tbc...











 

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