First: There’s my path.



There are many paths in life. There's the "Hey, you're cute, sure, I'll marry you after graduation and med school" and the "Can you drive Susie to soccer today, 'cause I've got a pediure?" path. And then there's my path, where I found myself 16 and pregnant and I realized "I have to get a job, I have to raise a kid and being me, I have to do it all by myself." Not easy. But the thing with my path was, when I reached the end, I turned around and realized I'd ended up someplace really good.

Lorelei, the Gilmore Girls







Buffy stared at herself in the mirror. The same face she’d seen every morning since she was tall enough to see into the mirror stared back at her. But she wasn’t the same girl she’d been even yesterday.



Because yesterday she’d still been pretending. Still fooling herself what she knew wasn’t real. Today though, she couldn’t pretend anymore.



The proof she was different was on the counter in a little blue and white container. With two blue lines. And in case she needed any more proof, the nausea she fought all the time overwhelmed her.



Leaning over the toilet, she emptied the contents of her belly, even though there wasn’t much there.



Wiping her mouth after brushing her teeth, which was a mistake, coz, hey that didn’t sit well with baby. . . Buffy fought back a tear.



This is so not good. What the hell am I gonna do? Mom’s not home, won’t be home until Wednesday. Maybe Willow will be home . . . she didn’t really want to tell anyone, not even Riley and it was just as much his as it was hers. She wanted her mommy. This time she let the tears fall. Mommy wasn’t going to be happy about this. And who knew if her father was even gonna care.



She had some serious thinking to do.



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



The next couple of days passed by in a blur, consisting of her waking up bleary-eyed and nauseous, getting dressed, throwing up, going to school, throwing up some more, falling asleep in almost every class including English (which was her favorite), fighting with Riley and just . . . thinking.



She didn’t want to have an abortion. That much she’d decided pretty much right away. What she wasn’t sure about was whether she could keep this baby or give it up for adoption.



Buffy found herself addressing her inner thoughts to the baby one morning on her way to school and realized she didn’t want to give this baby away.



Okay. Two decisions made. Now what baby?





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Buffy was sitting in English, listening to Mr. Stevenson read poetry. Normally she paid attention – it was hard not to pay attention in his class, especially when it was poetry slam week or playwrights section – but even when he was dissecting sentences it was great. It certainly didn’t hurt that Mr. Stevenson was, hands down, the hottest teacher ever, or that he had this voice that just took you away. But Buffy wasn’t paying attention today. Today, like every other day this week, Buffy had fallen asleep.



Mr. Stevenson watched her, beginning to get really worried about the tiny blonde. She was usually very attentive and had great things to contribute to his class but for the last week or so, she’d been too quiet. Will was worried about her.



Flicking his eyes around his classroom, he realized no one had yet noticed she was asleep, not even her overly dense boyfriend, one Riley Finn. Deciding not to embarrass her, but determined to find out what was wrong, Will went back to reading Robert Burns out loud.



After class was done, he knelt down next to her chair, gently shaking her awake. “Buffy? Miss Summers? C’mon, wake up.”



Took her a couple of minutes, but eventually very groggy Buffy opened her eyes. A sleepy smile crossed her face as she leaned heavily on her arm. “Hey.”



“Buffy you need to wake up.” His big hand cupped her shoulder and she smiled dreamily at him again.



For a moment Will was struck by her. She was adorable, but he knew better than to allow much more than that thought. Student, Will. In trouble. Leave it alone.



Buffy shifted, trying to get more comfortable. “Lemme sleep more, ‘kay?”



“C’mon Buffy. You need to wake up and tell me what’s wrong.” Will was getting more worried the longer it took to wake her.



“Wanna sleep. Nice voice. Talk to me teach?” She was waking up, but Buffy didn’t want to. She’d fallen asleep to the deep husky tones of his voice and that had caused all sorts of nice quick dreams.



“You really need to wake up now.” His voice was soo nice and he was soo close. Buffy could smell his aftershave and cologne and . . . uhoh. Her eyes flew open and a hand covered her mouth. She gaped at him, pushing him away, scrambling up out of her chair. She wasn’t going to make it. . . oh god. . Running from a stunned Mr. Stevenson, Buffy barely made it into the boy’s bathroom before violently throwing up.



He got to his feet slowly, his brain trying to deny what he’d just witnessed. He’d never seen a girl or woman react that way to waking up. Buffy had nearly thrown up in his lap.



Waiting patiently outside the bathroom, listening to the sound of a retching teenager, Will had to admit the evidence. Evidently Miss Summers had a potentially big problem.





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



She so didn’t want to go out there and face him. Maybe I can just pretend. . . . and . . . checking her reflection in the small mirror, Buffy realized this just wasn’t an option. She felt like she looked, crappy with a heaping side order of yucky.



Putting on a brave face, Buffy headed for the door. He was waiting for her, just like she figured. Without a word he held out his hand and Buffy looked at him blankly until she realized

he had a package of lifesavers in his hand.



Smiling at him gratefully she said “thanks.”



Without any other words he led her back into his classroom.



“I’m not going to pressure you. But if you want to talk, I’m here any time you want, okay?”



“Yeah.” Ducking her head, Buffy quickly gathered up her books. Turning to leave, Buffy said quietly, ‘thanks Mr. Stevenson.”



“Buffy. I meant what I said. And I promise not to say anything.”



But she was already gone.





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



Instead of going onto the rest of her classes, Buffy headed home. Getting busted by her favorite teacher was not part of her plan. She didn’t want anyone to know just yet – she hadn’t even told Willow – and they were best friends – or her mom. Mom doesn’t know. How am I gonna tell her?



Lost in her own thoughts, Buffy didn’t realize she was home until her feet hit the front steps. In a daze, she put her books down on the dining room table, sat down and promptly burst into tears.



Which kind of explained why she didn’t hear her mother when she came in and why she jumped when her mother touched her shoulder.



“Buffy? Honey, what’s wrong?”



Weepy hazel eyes looked up at Joyce and Buffy crumpled at the concern written on her mother’s features. “Mom? Mommy?”



“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Joyce pulled her daughter close, running her hand over Buffy’s head.



“Oh Mom. I’m pregnant.”



Joyce froze listening to her daughter’s heartbroken sobs. Disappointment flooded her, but then her little girl’s sobs broke through. Whatever else, Buffy was her little girl who right now needed comforting more than she needed to be yelled at. Rocking her back and forth all the while murmuring nonsense words, Joyce held onto her daughter.



She would wait until later to start yelling.





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



“All right. All right. Stop yowling at me, you ungrateful hounds.” Will grabbed the leashes from the hook, then stooped down to corral his dogs. “C’mon Clem. Get over here.” Getting his feet untangled from the leashes he stepped over the floppy-eared basset hound he’d named after one of his uncles and whistling for Kennedy, the nasty high-strung Jack Russell terrier he’d inherited from his mother, William headed out the door.



He and the dogs set out on their usual mile walk. Only minutes into their nightly ritual, his mind roved back over his day. It had been uneventful, except fro those few minutes worrying about Buffy Summers. Poor kid.



Seventeen years old. And pregnant. And adorable as hell when she slept – and even cuter when she woke up. He caught himself before his dirty mind went further down that path. Student, Will. She’s your student. Knock off the noticing thought.



Pregnant. She’s a teenager and she’s pregnant. Focus on that Will. He’d meant it earlier that she could come to him – he’d keep her secret, would give her someone who wouldn’t judge her – which she was no doubt getting a lot of at home.



He really did hope she was okay.



 

Second. Walking after midnight.



She was so far from okay it was a whole other dimension. Her mother had given her a twenty-four hour reprieve from the lectures and recriminations for some bizarre reason. But tonight was a different story.

Her mom had started with “sit down sweetheart we need to talk” and everything had gone straight down hill from here. And it wasn’t like there was any dialogue either – was just her mom, listing everything that was wrong with the situation, everything that was wrong with her and finally winding down to the big finish “what did I do that was so bad as a mother to deserve a daughter like you?”

No, “what can we do about this?” No, “have you thought about this?” No, “sweetheart everything will be okay, we’ll work through this together.” Nope. No sympathy at all.

Just lots of yelling. Whole heaps of anger. Finger pointing and blame.

And when Buffy had just cried, Joyce had gotten angrier and sent her to her room. Buffy had locked her bedroom door and slipped out the window. She wasn’t worried about getting hurt. This was easy. She’d been sneaking out since she was fifteen, since they’d first moved from Los Angeles.

Most nights she just hung out at Restfield Cemetery, writing and talking to the headstones. On the harder nights, when she and her mother were fighting and Joyce headed for the liquor cabinet, Buffy would walk through the cemeteries, through the woods or wherever she could go to be alone.

Tonight was a walking night. She’d skipped out of school today, not wanting to face anyone, especially him. . Mr. Stevenson.

How embarrassed am I? Fall asleep in his class then practically barf on the cutest teacher in school. Bet that would’ve gotten me out of class for the rest of the week.

A soft sigh escaped from her as she moved through Restfield. The nausea was gone, for the moment, but she learned in the eight weeks she’d been pregnant that always having pretzels was a good thing.

How the hell am I gonna tell Riley? What’s he gonna say? This is so hard. Okay. . Hey Riley, missed you. . . I’m pregnant. Nope. Riley we need to talk. Ew. Nope that was parental speak for not good. Something else. Hey. I know. Riley? What does je suis enciente mean? Shit. He doesn’t speak French. Ohhkay. Dude. I’m knocked up. Yeah you know, bun in the oven? Yup. That’s me.

Unaware she’d been talking out loud, Buffy also didn’t know she had an audience. “Miss Summers? What are you doing out here at this time of night?”

His voice startled her, making her knees wobble a bit when she turned around to face him. “And in a cemetery?”

Mr. Stevenson always wore dress pants or chinos and a button down shirt and tie, his hair was always combed back and this man? Whoever this man was he looked just like Mr. Stevenson except for the all black and jeans . . and spiky curls.

Buffy stared at him, her mind completely blank. Two years she’d crushed on this man and now? She found out he was even hotter after dark than he was in daylight.

Oh my god. Her heart was thumping away and it wasn’t because she’d just gotten busted. Nope. Her heart was pounding away because he was hot. Sizzling.

“Mr. Stevenson?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh . . um. . “ whooeey. Ohmygod. He’s so damn cute. Why couldn’t I be older?

“Why are you out at this time of night?” Will hadn’t missed the dejected slope of her shoulders before he’d called out to her, but he couldn’t see her reddened eyes, but all the same he figured she’d been crying.

“I, uh, you know. . um. Snuck out of my room after fighting with my mom.” She started walking again, this time back into Restfield instead of out of it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Will caught up to her in three strides.

She shrugged. “Not much to say. Mom thinks I’m a screw up and well . . .” she refused to look at him, instead staring down at her feet.

“I don’t think you’re a screw up. You’re smart, funny and cute. You should do well in college.”

“Mr. Stevenson. I’m,” she hesitated, then said, “I’m not going to college, at least not right after graduation.”

“Why not?” He half turned to look at her, a question in his eyes.

“I’m pregnant.” There. She’d admitted it to a third person now. “And I’m not having an abortion. I think I want to keep the baby.”

He’d had his suspicions yesterday. After all, he hadn’t grown up under a rock and he was a fairly experienced guy. “That’s why you and your mom . . .”

“Were fighting.” Buffy sighed. ‘Not sure what she wants me to do. But isn’t it like my decision?”

“Yeah it is, but you’re only seventeen.”

“I’ll be eighteen in January.” He looked at her, saying nothing.

“Its almost November. How afar along are you?”

“About eight weeks. I think.” She paused, suddenly embarrassed to be talking about all this with him.

“Hey. This stays between us. I promise. Not telling your mother or anyone else.” Will reached out to touch her arm. “I promise.”

“Thanks.” She stayed like that for a minute, just letting him touch her. “I’m just not sure what to do, you know? All my mom and I did was fight. We really didn’t talk about anything.”

Breaking away from him, she walked away. “Its just so hard.”

“I can only imagine. Have you told anyone else? Does . . ah,” he hesitated in case his supposition was wrong, “does the baby’s father know?”

She blew out a breath, ruffling her hair in the process. “No. Haven’t got that much courage yet. But I guess I need to, don’t I?”

“He should know.” Will watched her, his hands shoved into his pockets. She really was cute. Just his type too, tiny, petite and . . . well, female. He shook his head, determined to not think of her that way. Still seventeen, still your student and therefore, you wanker, very, very – very off limits. “So have you thought about how you’re going to tell him?”

Yup. Thought about it lots. Haven’t got an idea.” Turning to face him, she asked, “any ideas?”

“Unfortunately no.”

The lapsed into silence, neither one of them willing to break it. Buffy was trying not to squeal like a thirteen year old trying to be at least a little bit mature around him, while Will was trying very hard to remember she wasn’t a date, that she was only seventeen and far too young for him.

“So how come your out here in Restfield?”

“Short cut between my place and the Espresso Pump.”

“Oh” her voice was flat, almost disappointed.

“Wednesday night is open mic – its sort of become poetry slam night.”

“So you read poems?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? Whose?”

Oh now he had to admit it. “My own.”

“You write poetry?” How cool was that? We’ve got something in common! “So you write. That’s cool.”

Feeling kind of stupid for asking, she did anyway. “So what do you really think of mine?”

He thought for a minute, trying to give her an honest answer. “Your stuff is really good. Not typical for a teen-aged girl. Its got depth to it, and your subject matter is never trite.”

“So you like it.”

She really was adorable, looking for his approval. “Yeah, Buffy, I really like your poetry.”

“Can I hear some of yours?”

If he didn’t know better he’d swear she was flirting with him. Part of him was enjoying this – a big part of him. “Ahh. . . you sure?”

“C’mon Mr. Stevenson, its not fair.”

Against his better judgment, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Outside of class, Buffy, you can call me Will.”

The blush that bloomed across her face was beautiful and Will was inordinately proud of the fact he’d made her do it.

“So Will, are you gonna share a poem with me?”

He hesitated again and Buffy pulled on his arm, trying to get him to cave. “All right. All right. But then I’m walking you home, okay?”

She looked crestfallen but after a moment’s thought agreed. “Okay. I’m all listening Buffy now.”

His voice was whiskey rough, laced with pain and some other emotion Buffy couldn’t begin to put a name too, but he infused the words with so much emotion as he spoke.

“black morass,
whirling spirals of oily darkness
grief unspoken,
swallowed whole
unholy birth of rage and hurt
screams shouted silently
voice aches,
sounds gone
no one hears
no one listens
swirling, spiraling, downward, inward
crippling
grinning death’s spectre
here is the fear, here is the anger
defiled, putrid
rotten
me”


“Wow” Buffy was impressed. He was good.

“And you think my stuff is good?” She was incredulous.

“Your poetry is good. You write pretty well for a girl your age.”

“Gee Will, you make it sound like I’m so much younger than you – like you’re ancient or something.”

He laughed for a moment, telling her, “ten years is a big gap.”

“Yeah, but you’re not like over the hill or anything.” Will threw back his head and laughed out loud. “No, I’m not anywhere near that hill.”

Before long, they were back at her house and neither one of them wanted to go. “See you in class tomorrow?”

Will knew he was pushing it, but he wanted to make sure she was going to be okay before letting her go. “Buffy? You are going to be in class?”

“Yeah. Mom won’t let me cut out again.” Abruptly, everything crashed back down again, reality rearing its ugly head. “I’m gonna have to tell Riley soon too. I just don’t know how.”

“Listen, if you need to talk, and I promise I won’t say anything, you can talk to me. About anything.” Will held her arm, holding her back from bolting toward the house.

She smiled at him wistfully, then leaned up, standing on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks Will.”

And just like that she was gone.



 

Third. I’m pregnant. Can you pass the turnips?


Another morning throwing up, another morning when brushing her teeth was an impossible task. Just the thought of toothpaste was enough to make her heave all over again. Grabbing the peppermints, Buffy settled for freshening her breath that way. Maybe later baby, you’ll let Mommy brush her teeth. Think you could do that?

The four block walk to school was over quickly and all too soon Buffy found herself outside the doors. Steeling her back she realized she really didn’t want to sit through classes today. Maybe she could skip everything and just go to Will’s. . . . Mr. Stevenson’s class.

She’d have seriously tried it if Principal Snyder hadn’t just walked past her, sneering about juvenile delinquents and being late for school. Head bowed, Buffy aimed for the front doors, forcing a smile to her features. Someone’s perfume wasn’t mixing well with somebody else’s failure to wash and once inside the hallway she was once more fighting nausea.

Waving at Willow and hurrying past their group of friends, Buffy headed straight for the bathroom, almost running. No . .. No . . . no . . .no. . .not now, please not now. C’mon baby, can’t you give mommy a break, just once?

But baby wasn’t listening and Buffy bumped into whoever was blocking the doorway to the bathroom, her stomach nearly in her mouth.

“Buffy?” One look at her and Will practically pushed her into the bathroom, which happened to be the teacher’s and then stood guard, barring anyone else entrance.

Willow had followed Buffy and saw the whole exchange. Approaching the door, she asked, “Mr. Stevenson? Is Buffy okay?”

He knew they were best friends, but didn’t know how much the young red-head knew. Shaking his head, Will ushered her inside after checking the emptying hallway.


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

How many times am I gonna come close to throwing up on him before I actually do it? Wiping her mouth, Buffy stood up, then quickly bent over the bowl again.

Damnit. This just sucks. C’mon baby, knock it off. I’m never gonna get anything done if you don’t leave me alone. I know you’re here. Please stop. Please?

Tears slid from her eyes, just as the door opened and Willow’s tentative “Buffy?” echoed in the bathroom.

Oh no . . . bending once more over the bowl, Buffy heaved the last of her stomach into the toilet.

“You okay?”

Crap. She hadn’t locked the stall behind her and now Willow caught her with her head down, spewing up her guts.

“Guess not.” Pausing a second, the other girl dripped her books, then reached out to pull Buffy’s hair back, her free hand rubbing Buffy’s back.

“You need help?”

“No. I’ll be okay in a minute.” Resting her head against the cool steel wall, Buffy struggled to get her breathing and stomach under control.

They waited in silence together, Willow for once not babbling away in nervousness. Buffy slumped to the floor, her back against the steel divider, facing the opposite wall. “Thanks Willow.”

“No biggie. You okay now?” Willow was facing her, searching Buffy’s profile.

“I’m better. Nowhere near okay though.” A pause, then, “really far from okay.”

“Wanna talk?” Something was really wrong. She’d never seen Buffy like this, not even when she and Angel had broken up.

“Promise me you’ll keep quiet about this? Only two other people know.” Buffy’s voice was flat, almost monotone, which was scary.

“Yup.”

“I’m serious Willow. No one. Not Cordy. Not Xander. No one.” Buffy finally turned to look at her, a steely look in her eyes that Willow hadn’t ever seen before.

“I promise. Buffy, what’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant.” There, it was out now. Now Willow knew also.

“Ohmygod. Oh my god. Oh. My. God.” Willow was the one hyperventilating, which struck Buffy as very funny. At least for a moment.

“Breathe Willow. It helps.” Buffy was tired now. She wanted a nap. Wanted to curl up in Stevenson’s class and listen to his voice while she napped. She wondered if he’d do that sometime, just talk while she cat-napped.

“Does Riley know?” Willow was floored. This was not good. “What are you going to do?” Wow this was just really bad. “Oh! What did . . . did your mom say? You did tell her, right?”

“Slow down Wills. No, I haven’t told Riley yet.” She sighed. “I’m keeping the baby. And Mom did nothing but yell. For like an hour straight. All she did was yell.”

She didn’t know how long Mr. Stevenson had been in the bathroom, but Buffy figured it was a while. She thought she heard the door after Willow had dropped her books but she knew by the time she was sitting down that he was nearby.

When the two were silent for a while, Will knew he had to get them moving. “Miss Summers? Miss Rosenberg? You need to get moving.”

Getting reluctantly to her feet, Buffy watched as Willow struggled with the idea of being in a bathroom with a man, a teacher no less.

Will slipped out the door as soon as he heard movement, knowing Buffy would be out shortly.

He hadn’t meant to intrude, but the only way to look the teacher’s bathroom was from the inside and he didn’t think either girl actually knew that.

Willow was still trying to come to grips with Buffy’s announcement. She didn’t even care that Mr. Stevenson had been in the bathroom with them.


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

He’d handed them both hall passes and notes for the teachers of their first period classes, saying only, “just make sure you’re in the rest of the day,” before heading off to his own classroom.

Hugging Willow, Buffy whispered “thanks” and then quickly, before she lost her courage, asked, “will you stay close at lunchtime, when I tell Riley?”

“You’re gonna tell him here?” Willow looked around at the hallway. “‘Sure you wanna do this here?”

Buffy sighed, saying, “gotta do it when I have the courage, you know?” She really wasn’t looking forward to this at all, but Riley shouldn’t really be the last to know and well, this place has ears. No telling who overheard them, or saw her nearly throw up on Mr. Stevenson.

“All right. I’ll be there.”

Buffy watched her best friend walk away, realizing for the first time that everything in her life had changed.


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

Will had only gone into the bathroom because Careers teacher Anya Jenkins had come bearing down the hallway aiming for the bathroom with a single-mindedness that he usually found more than a bit off-putting. Bloody forthright woman, but can’t have her interrupting the girls.

Overhearing their conversation had been unintentional then, but he was glad Buffy was telling someone else who would be on her side. This isn’t going to be easy for her.

He’d gone to his classroom, after leaving them, got his first period students scrambling over a pop quiz, written the girls notes and was back in his classroom before the period was half over.

And now that it was nearly fifth and lunch, Will found himself worrying all over again. He had a feeling that something was about to go very wrong, and he couldn’t put his finger on what – Did I forget something? Leave the door unlocked or shit. I’ve no idea why there’s this niggling . . . bloody hell.

That’s what has me worried. Buffy Summers was sitting in the courtyard, obviously waiting for someone, probably Finn, while Willow sat next to her, her leg jumping up and down. She looked better, at least form his vantage point of the balcony and Will blew out a breath. She’s okay, Will. No need to get all protective.

She glanced up when her name was called, breaking out into a forced smile when Riley walked up. He watched the two of them, watched Willow leave them alone, saw her smile fade a bit, him sink to his haunches in front of her, then a shake of his head and suddenly he was up on his feet looming over her, his voice loud in the courtyard, his hands on her upper arms.


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

The two of them weren’t talking about anything in particular, sort of just marking time, waiting for Riley to get to the courtyard from his last class. Willow’s leg was shaking up and down and every once in a while, Buffy would reach out and still her movements. “Relax Wills, would ya? You’re making me nervous. And nervous Buffy is puky Buffy. So stop, okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m just anxious.” The red-head smiled apologetically at the blond, but further comment was halted when Riley’s voice called out a greeting.

“Here we go.” Buffy forced a bright smile to her face, motioning Riley over. “Hey.”

“Hey Buffy. Willow. What’s going on?” He shifted his glance between the two girls, smiling widely, “how’s my two favorite girls?”

“I’m good. Gotta run. See ya.” And Willow was up and gone before either of them could voice a protest. So much for support Wills, thanks a freaking lot.

“So what’s up?” He knew something was going on, because Buffy had been really cranky the last couple of days and really quiet. But he wasn’t prepared at all for what she said.

“Riley? I’m pregnant.” No. Damn. Shit. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut until my brain is ready?

“What?” All six foot one and half of him was floored. Involuntarily he sank to his knees in front of her, disbelief on his face. “What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“What? How? I thought we were. . . we used condoms.” He shook his head in disbelief. “No. Can’t be true. We used condoms. Its not possible.”

“They aren’t one hundred percent effective you know. It is still possible.” Buffy hadn’t meant for the sarcasm to creep into her tones.

“Not a hundred percent. That’s not very comforting you know.” Realization set in. “No. This isn’t. Buffy you can’t do this to me. I just got my appointment letter from West Point. You know they don’t allow this. How could you do this to me?”

“Do this to you? What about me?” Buffy’s anger was rising to match his.

“Its West Point, Buffy, I’m not going to throw it away because you got jammed up.”

“Jammed up? Is that what you?!” Buffy was soo mad she was almost spitting.

Riley got to his feet, anger and some other unknown emotion filling him from head to toe. Grabbing her arms he hauled her up, holding her off the ground, his hands tight around her upper arms, tension causing his muscles to tense up and begin to shake. “How could you? This is your fault you got pregnant. Buffy, I’m not losing West Point over this.”

Too late they realized he’d been shouting, all eyes in the courtyard riveted on them. Riley had her in his hands, shaking her and tears sprang to Buffy’s eyes.


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

Will had taken the steps down at a jump, afraid the big senior was going to strike the tiny girl and his voice, the voice of authority broke them apart.

“Remove your hands Mr. Finn. Now.”

Very slowly Riley put Buffy back on her feet, letting her go and Will watched as she crumpled, hunching over, harsh yet silent sobs wracking her tiny frame.

“Detention Finn. Now. Go sit in Mr. Giles’ office until I get there.”

William was livid. There was nothing worse than a man who hit a woman or threatened to. And to his eyes and probably everyone else’s that was what Riley Finn had been about to do.

He watched the boy go, not daring to look down at Buffy until he got his temper under control. It took a considerable effort.

Squatting down in front of her, William rested a hand on her back. “Are you okay?”

“No.” She looked at him, tears sliding down her cheeks, face blotchy with hectic color, eyes red-rimmed and heartbroken and Will’s own heart contracted in response.

“Its all right sweetheart. I’m gonna get Willow to take you home, okay?”

She nodded her head and Will motioned Willow over.

“Take her home Miss Rosenberg. Stay with her.” Thinking a bit, he said, “I’ll excuse you both from classes.”

“Thanks Mr. Stevenson.” Willow sat down beside her best friend, her head bent low next to Buffy’s, her arm slung across her back. “C’mon Buff, let’s get you home.”

Will stood there watching the two girls leave, realizing that what he was feeling wasn’t exactly normal between a teacher and student. And also realizing that Riley Finn needed to steer clear of him for a while.


 

Fourth. Mistakes are often the portals of discovery.

When you make a mistake, don't look back at it long.
Take the reason of the thing into your mind and then look forward.
Mistakes are lessons of wisdom.
The past cannot be changed.
The future is yet in your power.
Hugh White, US politician (1773 - 1840)



Riley Finn knew he was in deep shit. In the last hour his entire world had unraveled. Yesterday, his appointment letter from West Point had arrived, his future was all planned out and waiting for him.

Now? Not so sure. His appointment letter was tucked away in his backpack and he had no idea what was going to happen to him. He couldn’t imagine something worse could happen.

Staring at the walls of the Assistant Principal’s office, a place he’d only ever been to before to get an award or good news of some kind, Riley felt the first stirrings of fear. This was going to screw up his appointment. He just knew it.

A door opened down the hallway and heavy steps came closer, way too quickly for his peace of mind. He looked up at Mr. Stevenson’s approach, then dropped his gaze when he caught the fury in his eyes.

Oh shit. I’m done for now.

Mr. Stevenson stalked past him without acknowledging his presence, without so much as a glance down. As he walked by, Riley could see the muscle in his cheek twitch, signaling his extreme agitation.

Oh shit.

With a brief knock on the AP’s door, Stevenson walked right in. Riley closed his eyes, willing away tears of self disgrace and fear. I’m still going. I’m still going. Its West Point, they can’t take that away from me.


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

They’d barely made it out of the courtyard when the shaking started. Buffy’s teeth started chattering before they hit the end of the first block and by the time they’d crossed the street, the tears started flowing.

Halfway to her house, just two blocks away, Buffy hunched over and vomited on her shoes.

Willow didn’t know what to do. Oh god. Oh shit. Oh Buffy. “You okay? You’re okay, right? You can’t stop now. C’mon Buffy.”

She knew she was completely incoherent and some part of her usually logical brain was horrified by the idiot part that was controlling her mouth, but Willow couldn’t stop.

Tugging her best friend’s arm, Willow pulled Buffy forward a couple of steps. “That’s good. C’mon Buffy, take a couple more.” She did it again, nearly crowing in relief when the action seemed to jump start Buffy into moving again.

But it didn’t last long. Only to the end of the second block and barely across the street.

“C’mon, Buff, I can see your house from here. We’re almost there. C’mon.” In her nervousness she found herself almost baby-talking in a sing song voice. “One foot. That’s a girl! One more. One foot in front of the other. Yeah! Buffy.”

Her glee was short-lived when Buffy hunched over for the second time and threw up all over the sidewalk.

Buffy’s hands were icy cold and Willow had no idea what to do when suddenly from three sides she had different people vying for her attention. Buffy was still hunched over, only now it was just dry heaves, nothing substantial left in her stomach. Xander’s voice was calling out to her from down the block, Mrs. Wilson was coming down her walkway and Mr. Stevenson was getting out of his car.

Huh?

Mr. Stevenson was the first to reach them, his voice kind and sympathetic. “Had a feeling this was going to happen.” He placed a warm hand on Buffy’s back, leaning over to talk to her. “Buffy? Can you stand up?” When she didn’t respond or react, he said a bit more forcefully, “Miss Summers can you hear me?”

No response.

Willow was chattering away trying to get Buffy to answer when Buffy’s legs started to give out. Mr. Stevenson had her up in his arms as Mrs. Wilson placed a hand on her brow. “She’s in shock.”

Mrs. Wilson was appalled. “Oh my. What happened?”

Willow started babbling again, but Mr. Stevenson’s low voice broke through her words, “scare at school.”

Quickly taking charge of the situation, Will shifted Buffy in his arms, looking at the little red-head. ‘Willow, get my car door. Where does she live?”

“Half a block away, just across the street.” Whirling around, opening his car door and motioning with her hand to where the house was, Willow looked to him for guidance. Xander jogged up, his question then catching everyone’s attention. Without turning around, Will called out, “Harris? That you? Grab my keys.”

“Willow? What’s going on?”

Changing his mind about getting her back into the car and driving her home, Will figured it was just as easy to walk. And it was, because Buffy was limp in his arms, despite her inner chill. His attention split between the two teens trailing him and the one cradled in his arms, Will barked out orders. “Which house? Someone get the door.” And then, “Willow? Call her mother.”

Once inside the house, Will looked around, not really noticing the nice comfortable feel of the house, the welcoming aroma of vanilla pervading the air. “Get her shoes off.”

Gingerly, Willow sat down on the couch next to her, slipping her shoes off and then quickly running into the kitchen to wash her hands. ‘Willow? I need a blanket.”

Looking around, Will spied a folded up blanket on the chair next to the fire place and grabbing it he put it around her. Willow wandered back inside, sitting down again. She started to get up, but Will said, “no stay put. She needs to stay warm. Cuddle up with her.”

Xander was hovering around, after closing the front door and Will caught his eye, “Harris, get her something warm and sugary to drink.”

“Warm and sugary? What, Mr. Stevenson, what should I? Hey, would hot chocolate work?” Not waiting for his teacher’s answer, Xander made a beeline for the kitchen, to the sound of William’s voice saying, “yeah, that’s perfect, even better if you have mini-marshmallows.”

“Willow? Did you get her mother?” From her spot on the couch behind Buffy, the red-head shook her head yes, and Will asked, “how long before she gets here?”

“She works right here in Sunnydale at the art gallery downtown. She should be home in about five minutes.”

“Okay that’s good.” Gazing down at the still dazed blonde, Will’s heart contracted just a little bit. “Buffy? You feeling any better?”

Sleepy dazed vivid green eyes lazily opened to focus on him crouched down next to her. She had no idea how she got into her living with him here, but she didn’t even care. “Will?”

He smiled at her, his deep blue eyes full of concern. “Shhh. Your mom will be home soon. You’re going to be okay.” His eyes focused on the red-head who was watching them closely, “Willow? Have her mother call Mr. Giles’ office. I’ll be there.”

Willow sat up, disentangling herself from Buffy, who rolled to her back and closed her eyes again. She didn’t want Mr. Stevenson to know how badly she wanted him to stay. Heavy tears slid from her eyes and Buffy curled underneath the blanket.

“Mr. Stevenson, where are you going?” Willow’s voice was quiet, her uncertainty easy to detect.

William glanced down at the blond girl, caught her peeking up at him and his grim smile warmed her chilled body. Turning his attention to the other teen on the couch, he said, “to deal with Finn.”

And before either one of them could ask what that meant, he was gone.


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


There was no sound from behind the door. No raised voices. Nothing. Riley took that as a fairly good sign. His attention was split between the door and the clock over the secretary’s desk. As he watched the second hand tick a complete revolution, the phone rang. He paid that no attention until he heard a “yes he is. Hold on one minute.”

Then, “Mr. Giles? I have Joyce Summers on the phone. Yes sir. Hang up and I’ll put her through.”

A brief pause. “Mrs. Summers? Mr. Giles will speak with you.” Another pause. “Yes he is m’am. You’re welcome.. Hold on.”

Riley dropped his gaze from the secretary when she pointedly looked back at him. It had to be all over school by now. What had happened in the courtyard had to have been embellished and expanded and just. Shit. Just shit.

Another fifteen minutes ticked slowly by.


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

Joyce flew in the doorway, thoughts scrambled in her head. Willow’s message had been garbled, nothing really making sense until she heard, “Buffy’s in shock”. She’d barely grabbed her purse before she was out the doors of the gallery heading at a run for her car.

Buffy and Willow were curled up together on the couch, the red-head holding a mug of something for Buffy to sip from. “Girls?”

One look at her mother and Buffy collapsed into great gulping sobs. “Mommy?”

“Oh honey. What happened?” Maternal instincts kicked in and Joyce sat down on the other side of her daughter, gathering her in a comforting embrace. Unfortunately she still had no answers.

Turning her attention to the other girl, Joyce asked her. “Willow can you tell me what happened?”

Hesitantly at first, Willow relayed the events of the day. She covered everything from Mr. Stevenson’s first rescue to the disaster of what happened in the courtyard. Xander stood in the doorway listening to everything, his face blanching at the news of Buffy’s pregnancy. By the time Willow was finished, Joyce Summers was in a towering fury. And so was Xander Harris.

“Where is Mr. Stevenson now?” Joyce was trying to hold it together for Buffy, but it was a near thing.

“He didn’t say where he was going to be, only that he was going to deal with Riley.” Willow tried to remember, but it was Xander who said, ‘he wanted you to call Mr. Giles’ office. He’s probably there.”

Joyce nodded once, then asked Xander to get the phone for her because she didn’t want to disturb Buffy, who had fallen into a light sleep.

The first phone call Joyce made wasn’t to the school, it was to the doctor’s. They would see Buffy in two hours, in the meantime, she could have anything sweet and should be kept warm.

Getting the okay from the obstetrician had calmed Joyce somewhat, enough so she could call Giles’ office. The phone was answered on the second ring.

“Good afternoon. Mr. Giles please.”

“Joyce Summers.”

“Yes. I’ll hold.” Joyce smiled at the two awake teenagers, brushing her hand lightly over Buffy’s hair, while she waited patiently to be connected.

“Thank you. Oh. One question. Is Mr. Stevenson with him?”

“He is? Yes, thank you.”



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

“Rupert Giles.”

“Would you mind terribly if I put you on speaker phone? I’d rather have Mr. Stevenson go over this with both of us. Yes. He was an eyewitness.”

“Very well. Hold on.”

Looking down at the complicated contraption on his desk, Rupert was at a loss until Stevenson leaned over and took the receiver from him, hit the hold button, then hands free button and suddenly Joyce Summers’ voice filled the room. It was obvious she wasn’t speaking to either one of the men present. “Its okay sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Mrs. Summers?” Rupert’s voice broke through.

“Yes. I’m still here.”

“Very good. Mr. Stevenson is here with me now.”

Will spoke, identifying himself. “Mrs. Summers. How is Buffy?”

“My daughter is still very shaken. Hasn’t said much of anything. Willow’s actually told me what happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

Joyce’s composure broke a little on her next words. “I’d like to thank you, Mr. Stevenson for what you did for my daughter today. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re very welcome. I have to tell you that your daughter is a very smart and talented girl. I’m very proud to have her in my class.” Will wanted to say more, but now wasn’t the time.

“Thank you. Can you please tell me what happened?” Will gave a very dispassionate accounting, controlling his temper, but just barely. Joyce could hear the anger in his tone and Giles could see it in his eyes.

Best do as I planned then. Remove the boy from his classes with Ms. Summers and get him out of Will’s. He had both Finn’s and Summers’ files on his desk, and Will had informed him of the girl’s condition, which further complicated things. Finn was possibly in some very deep trouble.

His attention re-focused on something Will had said and he stopped his internal musings to listen to the conversation.

“Well you could Mrs. Summers, but for now maybe just an order of protection would be best.”

Rupert broke in, adding, “I’ve already taken steps to ensure they won’t be in a classroom together.”

“Thank you Mr. Giles. That was one of my concerns. I know they have more than one class together.”

“I’m also going to suspend Finn for three days. Incidents like this are not tolerated, Mrs. Summers.”

Joyce let out a deep breath. ‘Thank you both. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us today. I know Buffy feels the same.”

She was about to hang up when Will’s voice stopped her. “Mrs. Summers?” Would you please let me know how she is later?”

“Sure thing. Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

The call was disconnected and Giles studied the files in front of him, completely missing the look on the other ex-patriot Englishman’s features.

“Will? I’ve no idea how to do this. It would be simple to take him out of your English class and put him in Logan’s class. But the rest of it is just. . . . I’m going to have to re-do his entire schedule. They have four classes together.”

Giles took off his glasses, laying them down on his paperwork. “And now I have to suspend the boy also.”

“Well, Rupes, it gives you three days to work on his schedule, now doesn’t it?”

“Funny Will. Your mother should’ve put you out with the wash water when you were born.”

“Gee thanks ever so.” Growing sober, he said, “it should go on his permanent record.”

“I know. But it won’t. His West Point appointment is already in jeopardy.” Giles looked at his sister’s son and sighed, “do you think the Summers woman will press charges?”

“No. I dunno. She might. Sounded angry enough.”

“That she did. All right. Let’s get this over with.”

Rupert Giles got up from his desk and walked to his door.

“Riley Finn, would you come in please?”


 

Fifth. Dangerous

I don't think you know my name
And I think you'd leave me standin’ in the rain
You're a pretty little girl got a thing for me
But you'd cut me open and let me bleed

But I'll be looking at you with your long blond hair
Pretty little feet, sparkling everywhere
You look so good when you come my way
But I have to look down when you talk to me

'Cause you’re dangerous,
You’re Dangerous
You’re Dangerous
And you don't even know it


Her mom had let her skip two full days of school, but come Monday morning, she was adamant. Buffy was going back to school, like it or not.

The only high spot of the long weekend had been the strange flowers that had been delivered to her late Saturday afternoon. Well, the flowers weren’t strange, they were actually really pretty, beautiful even. The delivery was strange. No one had ever sent her flowers before and the note was only signed “me”.

Buffy had no idea who’d sent them. At first she was afraid they were from Riley, but then she dismissed that idea. Flowers weren’t his style at all. Nope. Not that he had a style.

She knew who she wanted them to be from, but she didn’t dare hope. He wouldn’t. He just thought of her as a kid. A troublesome kid. Couldn’t possibly have been him.


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


He didn’t know she was back in school until she walked into his classroom just before the start of sixth period. She was by herself, books clutched tight to her chest and the tension in her eyes wasn’t hard to see.

No one was settling down and he caught some of the gossip that was being not so carefully whispered and some of the nastier things got his back up.

“All right everyone sit down.” The bell rang and still there were pockets of students milling around just talking. One thing he asked of all his classes was immediate obedience. He didn’t much care for excessive rules, but when he spoke he expected compliance.

His aggravated roar filled the classroom, startling his senior honors class. “I said sit the bloody hell down. Now!”

People scrambled, tripping over themselves to find their seats.

Thirty-four pairs of eyes looked at him as he paced the front of his room. His anger was clear because his accent started slipping.

“Right then. This is my bloody classroom an’ when I tell you to sit an’ be quiet, you lot damn well better.”

He took a deep breath, not daring to look at Buffy, the only one of his students not starting at him, gaped mouth. “I will na’ tolerate any nasty shite in his room. You’re all near adults, behave like it.”

He turned a gimlet eye on Harmony Kendall, one of the worst offenders, pointing her out. “Don’ speak ill of others. This is not the place f’r it. If I hear such stuff in this room, its detention. An’ I hear it twice an’ you’ll get a failin’ grade.”

Taking a deep calming breath, he launched right into the discussion of William Blake’s poetry that he had planned for the day.


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

She was beyond humiliated. The stares and the whispers and the looks of pity were more than she could handle. Buffy felt, for not the first time that day, tears begin to form in her eyes. This is so damn hard and so not fair. I’m not the first girl to ever get pregnant in high school. Why the hell does everyone have to look at me like I’m some sort of freak?

The only high points of the day had been finding Xander and Willow waiting outside every class they didn’t share, Xander especially protective of her, and the reaction all the nasty remarks had gotten from Mr. Stevenson. In the four years of high school, she’d never seen him yell like that. It had been downright scary.

He had paced the front of his classroom, every eye on him, wary of what he would do next. Mr. Stevenson wasn’t normally an unfair grader, always willing to give someone a second chance if they missed a deadline or needed help or well, anything. But this afternoon, he’d been really angry.

Xander told her this morning that Riley had been suspended for three days and he wouldn’t be back in school before Wednesday, which was good. They hadn’t talked or anything since the few moments in the courtyard and Buffy was okay with that. She didn’t really want to see or talk to him. In fact the only reason she hadn’t thrown the flowers out was because she was positive they weren’t from Riley.

Listening to Mr. Stevenson’s voice, Buffy tuned out what was going on around her, just focusing on the sounds, letting her mind wander. This was harder than she thought it was, going through the motions, pretending to be okay with everything. No one but Willow and Xander were willing to talk to her, not that she really minded about that, but it was the looks from kids she didn’t really know that were bothering her. Surprisingly, while Harmony and a couple of the other girls were being particularly nasty, Cordelia hadn’t been. She hadn’t gone out of her way to talk to her, but she hadn’t made any nasty comments or given her funny looks or anything. Instead, the head cheerleader had been very quiet, only smiling at Buffy giving her silent support.

Before she knew it, her eyes had drifted closed, her ears tuned only to the sounds of an English accent echoing through her.


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

Will stole a glance down as he paced through the room, his eyes focusing on Buffy Summers. Asleep again. Fighting a smile, he carried on with the lecture, ignoring his desire to run his hand over her hair and let her sleep against his chest. Focus Will.

Once again, he let her sleep, knowing full well he’d never allow anyone else to get away with that in his classroom. Special circumstances deserved concessions, and Buffy certainly had special needs, at least at the moment. The fact that he wanted to scoop her up and cuddle next to her had no bearing on that. Mentally, Will scoffed at himself. He knew damned well why he was cutting her loads of slack, why he’d completely lost his temper at the beginning of the class. He wasn’t going to lie to himself. Best acknowledge the attraction and fight it that way. No sense hiding and pretending its not there.

Because the attraction was there.

Before he knew it, the bell rang for the end of class and he watched as they scrambled from the room, none of them daring to whisper as they filed past him. Buffy was still at her desk, her chin resting on her hand, elbow on the desk. Crouching down to face her, Will brushed the back of his hand down her cheek, his eyes traveling over her features. Slowly drawing his hand away, he berated himself. This is not how you fight this, mate. No touching. Remember that you wanker.

Yet the little voice in his head, the one that had been singing in his ear for days now, was warbling a different tune. Yeah, but touching is what you want to do. Want to take this little girl and hold her tight. Once again his hand was touching her, his fingers tangling in her gold hair, cupping her shoulder. To his own ears his voice sounded husky and he couldn’t for the life of him stop it. “Buffy, c’mon its time to wake up.”

“Mmmmm.” Was the only answer he got, her mouth opening a tiny bit, soft breaths wafting across the distance separating their faces.

“Buffy. Class is over. You need to wake up.” He watched her slowly swim toward wakefulness, fighting every step of the way.

“Don’t wanna. Hate waking up.” Her voice was little girl soft, petulance lacing the words, everything about her sending shockwaves through his system.

“C’mon sweetheart. You need to wake up.” Oh great you fucking git. Call the girl sweetheart. Not the brightest thing you’ve ever done.

With that she opened her beautiful sleepy green eyes and he forgot what he was thinking. Oh god. Would you look at that. She’s bloody gorgeous.

His hand tightened on her shoulder and Buffy reached out to brush some chalk dust off his dark blue shirt. Without thinking she leaned toward him, dropping her head down on his shoulder. Her muffled voice sounded softly in the air, not disturbing the little spell they found themselves a part of, “hey. Can I just stay here for a minute?”

He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find his voice. His hand automatically slid along her back, holding her close and they stayed like that for a few minutes.

It was Buffy who finally moved, shifting away from him, completely embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. . . “

A warm finger brushed across her lips, silencing her. “Its okay. Just,” Clearing his throat, he said, “let’s try and not let this happen again, okay?”

“Kay.” Gathering her books, she refused to look at him, but she whispered softy, “I. . . thanks for what you’ve been doing for me. You know, the other day and, this. Thanks.”

She fled from the room before he could form words that wouldn’t take them deeper into trouble.


 

Sixth. Through a mirror clear

Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.
Samuel Butler, Erewhon

A pure hand needs no glove to cover it.
Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter




The knot in her stomach wouldn’t ease, no amount of deep breathing or talking to herself was making it disappear. She’d been up half the night, stress and worry keeping her from sleep, increasing her uneasiness.

Once more she found herself staring at the front doors of Sunnydale High School, wishing she could skip most of the day going only to Stevenson’s English class. But Xander was standing behind her, a solid presence, his broad shoulders giving her some support. She’d been worried about what he would think of her and he’d totally surprised her by practically becoming her bodyguard. Monday he and Willow had walked her to her classes. Tuesday he’d walked her home and this morning he’d shown up at her house before school.

“C’mon Buffster. Time to face the music.” His voice was cheerfully grim and she wondered how come he was being supporto-guy.

The words slipped out before she could stop them. “Xan? How come you’re being okay with this?”

He sighed, looked down at his feet, then focused at some point over her head. Without looking at her all, he said, “my parents had to get married when my mom was sixteen.”

Oh shit. She hadn’t known that, but it explained a lot about Xander. Reaching out a hand to touch his arm, Buffy said simply, “thanks Xander. It means a lot to me.”

He blushed, shaking his head a bit, hiding how much her thanks meant. “Shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Riley’s an asshole.”

He stepped away from her then, breaking into a sad smile, “but I already knew that way before this. C’mon let’s go face the hordes.”

Part of her wanted to run and hide, but Buffy knew she couldn’t. Better just do this. “Thanks Xander. Really.”

Together they walked into the doors, like two warriors watching each other’s backs, girding for another tough day in hell.


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


He hated these meetings, though he’d rarely had to conduct them with more than the student’s parents. Unfortunately, in this case, there were other factors involved.

His office was overcrowded at the moment. It wasn’t nearly big enough for all those present, but Rupert Giles was more than happy letting a fair number of the occupants stand. The Finn’s were all here; Mrs. Finn was sitting in one of the chairs, her husband behind her, with Riley at her right hand, and both men were standing at attention.

Occupying the other chair was Colonel Graham MacArthur, Dean of Students at West Point and next to him, also standing at attention was his adjunct, Major West.

None of the people facing him were anywhere near a good mood. Finn’s parents were none too pleased, while MacArthur’s was impassive.

Glancing down at the assorted paperwork on his desk, Giles let none of his emotions show. His distaste for the entire process was hard to conceal from his voice however.

In front of him, hidden beneath some other papers, was an affidavit from Buffy Summers, outlining the events of last week. It had been part of the order of protection the girl currently had on file against the teen in front of him and he’d need it to do what he was about to.

Clearing his throat, Giles finally spoke. “I am not going to repeat the reasons why we area all assembled this morning. I’m going to assume everyone is apprised of the situation.” He glanced up, taking in everyone’s agreement.

“Mr. Finn.” Giles looked steadily at the young man before him. “It has been decided, given the circumstances and your outburst and subsequent behavior last week that you will be removed from all your classes and placed in others.”

His parents began to protest, but Giles held up his hand indicating he was not finished. “The administration feels that in light of that incident and the order of protection that has been filed against you by Miss Summers this is a necessary step.”

“This kind of incident will not be tolerated on school grounds. You are not permitted to have any contact whatsoever with Miss Summers. Any violation will result in further suspension and possible criminal charges.” Letting that sink in, Giles waited a moment.

“Is this understood, Mr. Finn?”

Without much emotion, Riley stared straight ahead, then spoke clearly, “yes sir.”

Giles waited another moment, then said, “against my better judgment and at the request of Army officials, this incident is not going on your permanent record. However,” Giles stared into Riley’s face, his eyes glittering oddly, “should you be seen near Miss Summers or attempting to speak with her, it will become part of your record. And I personally will see to it that you be prosecuted.”

Riley’s mother started to speak, but her husband’s firm hand on her shoulder forestalled any further comment.

Handing Riley his new schedule and the old one, Giles instructed him to get the old one initialed by all his teachers before reporting to his new classes.

Unceremoniously ushering the crowd out the door, Giles fought the grimace of distaste.

Bloody bastard, never once inquired how the girl was.


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

Retired Brigadier General Kevin Finn stalked to the main doors of the school, jaw clenched and hands firmly at his side, his wife trailing behind him. He’d called in a lot of favors for his son, and he was less than pleased about having to do so and the reasons behind that.

Without a word to his wife, Finn nodded to the Major, holding back Colonel MacArthur. “Look Graham, I appreciate what you did for my boy. I’ll see about getting a release from the Summers girl. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Sir. I did what I could. It was still the Commandant’s decision. He would like your assurance that nothing else will go wrong.”

“You have my word Major. Riley will do as he’s told.” Loosening up a little bit, Finn spoke again, “give my regards to your father.”

“Will do sir.” Saluting his superior, Colonel Graham MacArthur pivoted on a heel and was gone in the next moment.

Sharing a long look with his wife, Finn said, “let's go Maggie. We have some things to discuss.”


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

Despite having gone through this three times already today, Buffy still wasn’t prepared for the sight of Riley standing at the head of the classroom waiting for Mr. Stevenson to arrive.

The first time, in second period math, Buffy had nearly run from the class room, afraid he was going to talk to her, but he’d just gotten the signature and left without even looking at her.

Hey baby. . . how’s you right now? Sorry for the crazy heartbeat, but mommy’s way confused. Coz you know I thought I loved him but now so not so sure about that. I mean he hasn’t even tried to talk to me – what’s up with that? Guess he doesn’t love me. . or us. Sorry baby. Mommy’s so sorry.

Buffy was sitting at her desk, her chin resting on both hands, staring at nothing, purposely avoiding Riley’s tense form waiting by Will’s – Mr. Stevenson’s desk.

The bell rang and the noise slowly subsided, except for the annoying sound of Harmony’s voice, “and you know, how slutty is that? Sleeping with someone and not using protection? Its like saying, hello, I want to get pregnant. And really what did she expect? That he was going to say oh I love you lets get married. So not!”

“Miss Kendall?”

Harmony froze, the catty smirk that had been directed at Buffy quickly fading and she hesitated, afraid to turn around and face Mr. Stevenson.

Sneaking a glance at his face, Buffy shivered. His eyes were the lightest shade of blue she’d ever seen, icy hot and laser bright. There was a muscle ticking in his cheek, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his fists at his side.

When Harmony hesitated before turning around, Stevenson repeated himself. “Miss Kendall.”

Oh wow. I’m scared of him and he’s not even pissed off at me. Wow.

Riley, who was less than two feet away from the irate Englishman, took one look at him and stepped away.

Harmony turned around and foolishly made an attempt to placate him. “Hey Mr. Stevenson. You called?”

And then she made the colossal mistake of giggling. Whether it was nerves or not, it didn’t matter, because judging by the look on his face, Mr. Stevenson was about to unleash an apocalypse on the poor ditzy blond.

“What did I say not two days ago to this class?” He waited a beat and when Harmony either couldn’t or wouldn’t answer him, he called out, “Jonathan? What did I say?”

Clearly flustered, the super-geek blurted out word for word what Stevenson had said.

“Thank you Mr. Levinson.” Looking back at Harmony, Stevenson ground out, “five days Miss Kendall. After school. Here. Starting today. The next time will cost you this quarter’s grade. After that it will be the semester.”

Passing his eyes over every student looking at him, Will gritted his teeth. Part of him realized he was being irrational and quite possibly over-reacting, but Will nearly didn’t care. The poor girl needed someone to support her, especially since it was fairly obvious her boyfriend wasn’t doing it. He had no idea what kind of support she was getting at home and he made a mental note to find out.

Reining in his considerable temper, Will repeated his own personal mantra. “Gossip is for the small minded and petty. I’ve no tolerance for it and will not allow it in this room. Anymore outbursts from anyone, and the transgressors will find themselves joining Miss Kendall.

Holding out his hand silently to Riley for his paperwork, Will’s eyes swept over the class. “Am I understood?”

At the murmurs of yes, he bent down to initial Riley’s paper, Stevenson said to the teen in such a softly cold voice that the hair on Buffy’s neck stood up, “Finn. That goes for you as well. One word and I’ll have you suspended again.”

Riley stammered out a muffled “yes sir” and fled the classroom.

For some odd reason, Buffy didn’t fall asleep in his class that day.


So? Was it any good? Please let me know. Thanks!

Seventh. Some comfort here.

Once discover comfort, and there is no turning back
Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms, Seventh Selection

Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with.
Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 4.



Will berated himself all the way home – great way to show disinterest mate – and during his lonely excuse for dinner – gotta stop favoring the chit, Will, she’s your student – while walking the dogs – just let it go, find someone else, like Anya or Jenny or any one other than a seventeen year old girl – and all through his session on the open microphone. All to no avail.

He couldn’t get her out of his head.

So it was really no surprise when he ran into her on his way home from the Espresso Pump just outside Restfield cemetery.

He stopped dead in his tracks watching her. She was sitting on a grave, facing the headstone, her hands gesturing like she was carrying on a conversation. Stepping closer he could hear her talking.

“Just . . . I wonder why he won’t . . . not that I want him too. So with the not wanting to talk to Riley right now. But if he really loved me like he said he did, wouldn’t he at least try? Even knowing he shouldn’t? So that means he doesn’t really love me then.”

Taking in a deep breath, Buffy rambled on, “which is good, ‘coz not sure I love him either. Really not sure I love him at all.”

Abandoning that train of though, he watched her shift a bit, her voice going on, “and you should have seen Harmony today, so with the not so nice talking about me and Will – I told you about him right, Gram? My oh so lickable English teacher? He got so. . . “

The sound of her voice receded, his mind focusing on one thing. Lickable? She thinks I’m lickable. Bloody hell. Not good William. Turn round now. Go home. The other way. Now.

His feet decided otherwise, drawing him closer to where she was sitting and before he could think better of it, he heard the sound of his voice speaking her name. “Buffy?”

Spinning around, Buffy fell over, landing on her side, clumsy from the speed of her own movement.

Looking up at him from her new position, Buffy smiled sheepishly, saying, “hi, Mr. S. Whatsup?”

“Nothing. What are you doing out here at one in the morning?” He looked down at her, a slight smile on his face.

“Um. Having conversations with dead people?”

Oh she was just too bloody cute. Her grin was just adorable and Will was forced to broaden his own smile back at her. His chuckle sounded in the air around them and he blurted out what he was thinking, “that’s just bloody cheeky of you.”

Wrinkling up her nose at him, she asked, “does that mean I’m funny or chubby?”

Giving her response the laughter it deserved, Will said, “sassy. Snarky. Take your pick, Pet.”

“I like sassy.” She smiled up at him, not so innocently flirting with him. Changing the subject she asked, “coming home from poetry night?”

“Yeah.” He looked around, glancing down at the headstone asked his own question, “who’s this you’re talking to, then?”

“Oh! My grandmother. She died two years ago.” Gesturing toward the stone slab, Buffy said, “her name was Anne. She was the best.”

“My mum’s name is Anne,” was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Oh you idiot wanker, you’re not supposed to be talking to the girl like she’s a bloody date.

But before he could backpedal and get himself out of the corner he was rapidly painting himself into, Buffy responded, “I’m named for her. Well, Anne is my middle name. So it like, counts, you know?” Tilting her head at him, Buffy asked, “so what’s your middle name?”

“Giles.” He found himself leaning against the wall of a small mausoleum, his hands in his pockets, looking down at the girl at his feet. Stop looking at her like that you bloody fool.

“Like Mr. Giles?” A light dawned on her and she made the connection, “are you related to our Mr. Giles?”

“Yeah. He’s m’uncle. My mother’s brother in fact.” He looked away, shifting his stance and Buffy clearly got the impression that he wasn’t at all happy about her knowing that.

“He’s so nice. He can be kinda scary, you know, but he’s been really nice to me, especially lately.” Buffy looked down at her hands, sadness stealing through her. “Not like everyone else.”

And just like that he was crouched down in front of her, her hands in his, words he hadn’t had any intention of saying to her tumbling from his lips. “They’re idiots. Don’t pay them any mind. You don’t have to be ashamed for anything. You’ve done nothing wrong, kitten its just an. . .it happens, not anyone’s fault.”

I’m not gonna cry. I’m not gonna cry in front of him. I’m not. The thoughts circled round even as she watched the tears pooling on their clasped hands. “I’m scared. And no one’s talking to me, just Xander and Willow and everyone’s making fu . . fun of me. Her breathing hitched and caught as the tears fell harder and Will was hard pressed to fight the need to pull her into his arms and hold her close.

Knowing he was doing the wrong thing, he disengaged one hand and wiped away her tears, intoning softly, “shhhh. . . it’s goin’ t’be okay, kitten, it will.”

Buffy was sort of arguing with him, “no. Its not gonna be okay. My mom is so mad at me she barely talks to me and Willow doesn’t. . . get it and Xander’s the only one who’s been nice to me, but that’s coz his mom was six-sixteen when and” she sort of collapsed in on herself and Will knew his inner battle was lost. Kissing away his resolve to stay away from her, he pulled her into his arms and rocked her gently.

“Its okay. I promise it’ll get better, maybe not right away, but things will work out, you’ll see.” One hand was on her back, alternately rubbing up and down and circling her, the other was holding her head against his shoulder and all he could think was that someone should be worrying about her like this all the time. She’s such a tiny little thing, how the hell is she goin’ to be able to do all the hard things she’s gonna have to do soon? Poor little kitten.

Finally the tears subsided and Buffy held onto him, her hand curled around his upper arm, just breathing softly in the aftermath of her breakdown. Her breath drifted across his neck and Will suppressed his body’s reaction to having her so close. No. You wanker. Not bloody now. Battling with his own inner voice, he nearly missed Buffy’s quavering words.

“Thanks so much. I feel like such an idiot. I keep crying for the stupidest reasons.” She sniffled, wiping her tears against his black cotton tee shirt.

“Can’t help them. Hormones and such, probably be worse before the end. Don’t have to apologize for that, sweets.” Will’s deep voice sounded so good next to her ear, just like she’d imagined it would and Buffy snuggled in closer, silently wishing he would keep talking. After a short pause, he did start talking again. “So, why are you out here at this time of night?”

“Had another fight with my mom. She thinks it would be a good idea if I gave the baby up for adoption.” Buffy took another deep breath, continuing, “said it would be good for the baby to have a better life than I could give it. But its my baby. And who’s going to love it more than me? I’m scared that baby won’t get . . . and I don’t really want to give her up.”

“You know its not goin’ to be easy, raising a baby alone. What about school and all the rest?” But she was shaking her head, her arguments already in place.

“No. I can go to school anytime, even at night as long as I have a babysitter and I can work from home or something, I don’t have to worry about that now. Right now she’s the important thing.”

He had to admire her determination and part of him wasn’t willing to destroy her optimism. But he knew firsthand exactly how hard it could be for a single parent. After all, he’d lived with one up until going off to university. Is that why you’re letting her worm her way under your skin, mate?

Once more, his mouth started moving before his brain was completely engaged, and holding her close, Will started speaking. “My mum got married young, not much older ‘an you are now, but she and my da waited a bit to have me. Everything was roses, even after I was born, then my dad got sick and when I was about 3 he passed on.” He paused a bit, lost in the memories of his mother always crying and trying to be strong for him. “Wasn’t easy, and she had to go on the dole for a bit, even with the money Uncle Rupes was givin’ her. She went back to work soon as I was in school, an’ didn’t stop until she passed on.”

They were silent for a bit, both of them lost in thought, neither one of them willing to break the comfortable silence until, finally, Buffy said, “I’m sorry.”

He tilted his head to the side to get glance at her face and she smiled sadly at him, “what’re you saying sorry for?”

“Because you had it way worse than I did.” She made an aborted shrugging gesture and Will chuckled a bit.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. Wasn’t your fault, wasn’t really anyone’s. My da got cancer and m’mum just never really recovered from losing ‘im. S’times I think the only reason she lasted as long as she did was for me.” He shifted, getting more comfortable, easing the pressure off his knees and then his voice sounded again. “Anyway, didn’t tell you all this for sympathy, pet, told you because . . . well, dunno why exactly I told you.”

And he didn’t, not really. Part of him just wanted to share something of himself with her, letting her know that he understood how hard it was and that she wasn’t the first girl to go through something like this. Circumstances might have been just a little different in his case, but Will knew that his mother would have fought tooth and nail to keep him – hell, she’d done it.

Her lips brushed against his neck so softly that he wasn’t even sure he’d felt it, and her whispered “thank you for telling me,” wafted gossamer soft in the air between them.

Closing his eyes, William fought a battle with himself. His heart was telling him to keep her close and protect her from the very harsh reality that was about to come knocking on her door, but his logical mind was telling him that she was seventeen, and in this country at least, off limits to him. Before he could out-think himself, Will sighed once more, than nudged her a bit, “c’mon kitten, let’s get you home.”

But she was already asleep, her face pressed against his chest, her hand curled around his neck.

Struggling to his feet, Will held onto her, never once losing his hold on her. Heading in the direction of her house, William shut down his brain and refused to think at all about anything.


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

She woke up halfway home, shifting in his arms.

“Almost there kitten” was his statement when she made questioning noises about what was happening.

He stopped two houses away from hers, when he noticed all the lights on at her house. “Buffy? Does your mother normally stay up this late?”

Following the line of his gaze, she sighed, then started to move out of his arms. “She’s not awake. She just forgot to turn off all the lights.” Not looking at him, she said softly, “she does that when she’s been drinking.”

By the tone and resignation in her voice, Will knew it was a fairly often occurrence. At a loss for words, he just watched her, as she squared her shoulders preparing to head home. Her thank you was a bare whisper in the night air and William was hard pressed to keep his mouth shut and just let her go.

“Buffy?” He caught up with her when she was a couple of feet away, his hand reaching out to stop her. She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes and his heart contracted. “Listen, if you need anything, someone to talk to, come see me, okay?”

The words she wanted to say got caught in her throat, choking her so that all she could do was nod her head in understanding. The tears that had been threatening broke free to slide in twin tracks down her face.

Will pulled her against his chest, letting her cry out her sorrows. For long moments he just held her until finally she moved away, again not looking at him, Buffy said, “thanks. I just . . . .sometimes its really hard you know? Pretending everything’s okay. Pretending I’m okay.”

“I know. Life’s not easy kitten and some of us have it harder than others. But you’ll get through it.”

She shrugged, then looked up at him. “Thanks. For listening. For just. . . thanks.”

“Anytime.”

And surprising neither of them, Buffy moved back into his arms, hugging him, her arms around his waist. Will hugged her back, enjoying the feel of her in his arms and didn’t even realize he’d kissed her forehead until she gazed up at him.

Breaking away from her hold, Will said gruffly, “best get inside now Buffy. Its late.”

Without another word, but a somewhat confused look on her face, Buffy sprinted away.

Will stood watching the house long after all the lights were out.

 

Eighth. There’s two words to that bargain.

The tie which links mother and child
is of such pure and immaculate strength
as to be never violated.
Washington Irving

A bargain is in its very essence a hostile transaction. . .
do not all men try to abate the price of all they buy?
I contend that a bargain even between brethren
is a declaration of war.
George Gordon Noel Byron, Letter, July 14, 1821



Normally she’d be hanging with Willow and Xander all day, since it was Saturday and nothing much was on her agenda. But she was home, feeling decidedly miserable. Buffy had woken up this morning, sicker than she’d ever been in her whole life. Every time she moved, her stomach threatened to spew itself all over everything, including herself, her head was pounding and she just felt awful.

She didn’t think this was just the baby although being pregnant certainly wasn’t helping. Buffy rolled over slowly trying to keep the room from spinning.

Oh baby do you have to? Can you just give Mommy a break, please? Mommy really doesn’t feel so good. Settling her face against her pillow, Buffy thought over how things had changed in the last two weeks. Everything had just gone crazy. Riley and she were a – well, she’d thought they were a solid couple and college wasn’t that far away. Now, no more Riley and college was going to be put off for a while, at least until baby was ready to go to school. It was weird but she wasn’t really upset about either of those things.

Guess it kinda doesn’t matter anymore. None of that is important. Okay Buffy, stop lying to yourself. Not having Riley hurts. He’d chased after her, begging her to go out with him but she’d resisted, not liking him nearly as much as he’d liked her. She’d finally given in, and he’d grown on her, little by little, but she’d never really been in love with him, not the way he’d said he loved her.

Riley had said it all the time, while Buffy had been more guarded, shielding her heart, afraid of letting him in. Looking at how things were going now, she’d done the right thing.

So smart with the not trusting of Riley. He’s not a good guy, baby. He doesn’t want anything to do with us.

After the incident in school, her mother had insisted on getting her an order of protection, using their size difference and his almost stalking of her as the reasons why she should be wary of of him. Buffy didn’t have the energy to fight with her mother over that. It was hard enough fighting with her over the baby.

And boy had they been fighting. Constantly. Over every little thing. Just last night had been – they’d done nothing but scream at each other, neither one of them backing down. At first, when Buffy had told her mother she was pregnant, Joyce had tried talking her into terminating the pregnancy. Buffy had, for once, reacted calmly, saying simply, “No Mom.”

Which had pretty much ended that discussion. Joyce’s latest campaign was for Buffy to give up the baby for adoption, pulling out all her arguments. Resting her hand on her still flat belly, Buffy thought about the conversation she’d had with Mr. Stevenson the other night. She had lots of questions for him about how his mother had managed it on her own and she wondered if he would be willing to tell her more.

Oh baby, if only Riley was more like him. I don’t think he would pretend we don’t exist. He would be trying to see us every day and he’d take care of us, I’m sure of it. Tears seeped from beneath her closed eyes and Buffy’s thoughts changed tact – who am I kidding? He’s not thinking of me the way I want him too. I bet he doesn’t even think of me at all. Except as one of his students and a dopey one – one that was stupid enough to get pregnant.

Curling up into a ball, Buffy was so wrapped up in her own misery she never even heard the doorbell.


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

Joyce was in the kitchen, going over her shopping for the week, going over in her mind how to tell Buffy she was leaving for a nearly week long buying trip, when her attention was distracted by the doorbell. Sighing heavily, Joyce got up from her seat to answer the door, not wanting to know who was disturbing her Saturday afternoon.

She was not prepared for the sight that greeted her.


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

When his father had presented his proposal to him, part of Riley had wanted to balk at the solution his parents had come up with, and another part of him wanted to just give in. Unfortunately, the part that wanted to protest was a very small part. Riley wanted to go to West Point more than he wanted anything else. From the time he was five years old, and his father got his gold stars, he wanted to go to West Point and be just like him. Nothing was going to stand in his way. So he’d thought about it for about five minutes and nodded his agreement.

His father had prepared himself, getting his speech and false sincerity in place for the coming confrontation, instructing Riley to do the same. He and the boy were going to present themselves at the Summers residence.

Which was where they were now, on the last Saturday in October, preparing to discuss things with Buffy’s mother.

The first thing Joyce did upon seeing them both standing at her front door, the elder Mr. Finn in full uniform and Riley in a suit, was slam it in their faces.

Riley looked at his father, then hit the doorbell again. Joyce was torn between answering it and ignoring it when Buffy appeared at the top of the steps, looking decidedly under the weather. “Mom? Who is it?”

Glancing up at her daughter, Joyce’s features softened. As much as she hated this situation, she did love her daughter and she hated seeing her like this. “Its Riley and his father.”

Buffy’s legs gave out underneath her and she fell hard against the top step. “Mom?”

Joyce nodded her head, her features settling while she ignored the knock at the door. “I know honey. Do you want me to send them away?”

“Might as well let them in Mom. I have a feeling Riley’s dad doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“All right then.” Joyce resolutely opened the door, just as the General was preparing to knock again.

Joyce waited for them to speak, her stance belligerent and protective. “Mrs. Summers? May my son and I come in to speak with you and your daughter?”

Giving them the full measure of her disdain, Joyce looked straight at the General, not intimidated by either his rank or his size. “Your son is not permitted any contact with my daughter. I don’t want him near her.”

“Mrs. Summers. I believe with the two of us in attendance, no harm will come to your daughter. In fact I can guarantee that my son will not move unless I give him permission. Do we have your consent to this meeting?”

“I’m not happy with this General.” Joyce saw nothing on either of their faces to inspire any amount of trust. “I don’t believe this is a good idea.”

“I still believe you and your daughter should hear us out.” The General was implacable, his body language and stance confident that Joyce would let him in the door, despite her obvious reluctance.

With a glance up the steps at Buffy to see what her reaction to this was, Joyce waited until she nodded her head in acceptance. Better off just getting this over and done, coz I so just wanna go back to bed. I feel like shit. Getting slowly to her feet, Buffy walked past the door to curl up on the couch, not waiting for the others to enter. She never even looked at Riley, deciding that looking at him might not help her upset stomach.

“Come in, gentlemen.” Joyce placed added sarcastic stress on the last word, not-so subtly letting them know how she felt about the pair of them.

The General strode into the house like he thought he owned it, which just aggravated an already on edge Joyce and Riley never once glanced at Buffy, which also set her teeth to grinding. Joyce realized that she was going to have to get a grip on her temper otherwise whatever they had to say was going to descend quickly into a shouting match, if not something worse.

“Buffy? How are you feeling?” Surprised by the tone in the General’s voice, Buffy looked up at him as he stood over her, sincerity on his face, but something else glittering in his eyes.

“Not so good.” She shifted, trying to get more comfortable, then reached for the throw blanket behind her. “Thank you for asking.”

Satisfied with her answer, he moved to take the chair opposite, while her mother, forestalling any attempt by Riley to sit anywhere near Buffy, sat beside Buffy on the couch. “What is it you want?”

Joyce was under no illusions that this was a social call, given the attire and the demeanor of the man sitting in her chair. And since she harbored no illusions, she wasn’t about to be cordial or act like a welcoming and gracious hostess, offering them drinks and making them welcome. Had Riley perhaps not acted the way he did, she might have done things differently, but Joyce was not in a forgiving mood.

“I’d like to offer your daughter a choice, Mrs. Summers.” The General’s tone was calm and even, his gaze never wavering from Buffy’s face.

“And what is that?” Joyce’s maternal instincts went into hyper-drive fearing that the next words out of the General’s mouth were going to be devastating to her only child.

“Riley is a candidate for West Point, in fact got his appointment letter just last week. I’m not sure if you are familiar with the standards of the Academies, but none of them allow the cadets or midshipmen to have family entanglements or dependents.”

Buffy shared a look with her mother, getting a sinking sick feeling in her belly about all of this. Her mind was screaming at her, and she placed a protective hand over her belly.

“While I respect your daughter’s right to chose what’s best for her, I’d like you to consider what might also be best for Riley. We are willing to shoulder any financial burden that might be incurred should your daughter decide to terminate the situation.”

Buffy’s face drained of all color, and her heart plummeted to her feet. Oh no. no. no. no. I am not. . . “I’m not going to have an abortion, whether you pay for it or not.”

Joyce, meanwhile, was sitting on the other end of the couch, stunned and completely speechless. She couldn’t believe that the General had just said what she thought he’d said.

Finding her voice, and after a long look at Buffy, Joyce got to her feet moving toward her front door. “General, I think you should leave now. This conversation is over.”

The General didn’t move to get up, instead, he leaned forward to where Buffy sat, tears in her eyes, one hand still curled protectively over her belly. Earnestly, he said, in a tone of voice designed to gain her confidence, “Having a baby at your age alone isn’t easy. Think of all the things you’ll miss, all the things you could be doing instead of staying home and taking care of a fatherless baby. You don’t want that. You’re young. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything but college and other boys. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t throw it away on this one situation.”

“My baby isn’t a ‘situation’ General. It’s a baby. Mine. I’m not going to kill it to make your son more comfortable.”

Before the General could speak again, Joyce stood between him and Buffy, blocking his view of her now openly crying daughter. “I said you should leave. I want you out of my house. Now.”

The General looked up into the set features of Joyce Summers and knew when he was defeated. Time to regroup and rethink the current strategy. Getting to his feet, Kevin Finn looked down once more at Buffy and with a sideways glance to ensure his son was following, left the house without another word.

Joyce was shaking, no outlet for her anger, and she very nearly threw something at the door when it closed behind the Finns; and it was only the sobs of her daughter that stopped her from doing so.


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

It was supposed to be a date. He was supposed to be having fun, enjoying the company of a female adult, with the possibility of more sometime in the future. So what was he doing? Sitting in a restaurant, eating a decent meal and paying no attention to the woman on the opposite side of the table. He’d actually been doing okay, up until fifteen minutes ago, when some woman sat down two tables away and something about the way she walked reminded him of Buffy. Will found himself staring at the table, wishing it was her, so that he could go over and interrupt.

That hope was . . . really, Will, what the hell are you thinking? What the bloody hell are you thinking? Hoping that its Buffy? She’s a kid. Mentally placing his head in his hands and groaning at his own stupidity, William tried to refocus his attention on his date. It didn’t work.

Jenny was a nice woman, but really, she was much better suited to date his uncle. Oh. There you go. That’s an idea. Liking that idea the more he thought about it, Will smiled at the dark haired woman, leaned forward and said, “Jenny, I want you to meet someone.”

“Really?” She was intrigued.

“Yeah. His name’s Rupert Giles, but don’t let that put you off meeting him.” He smiled at her and Jenny sighed a bit. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the start of a brush off when she heard one.

“So why do you want me to meet Rupert Giles?”

“I think you’d get along with him.” Inhaling deeply, Will gathered his courage and told her at least a partial truth. “I’m sorry. My mind isn’t on you and that’s not fair. I like you, I do, but – its. . “

Jenny thought about letting him flounder about a bit more, but the truth was, while she found him attractive, and really what woman wouldn’t, the more they talked the less they had in common. So she let him off the hook. “I understand. Really, I do. Its okay.” Looking down at her half eaten dinner, she said wistfully, “I really hate to leave though, because this is really good.”

Relief clearly on his features, Will smiled broadly. “Tell you what, let’s stay and finish this while I tell you all about Rupes.”

Jenny looked up, a slight smile playing about her features. “Sounds good to me.”

Pressure off, Will relaxed back into his seat and proceeded to tell Jenny Calendar all about his uncle.


 

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