Seventeenth. All I want for Christmas is you

Now that was when people knew how to be in love.
They knew it! Time, distance... nothing could separate them because they knew.
It was right. It was real. It was...
Sleepless in Seattle, 1993

All the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air
And everyone is singing
I hear those sleigh bells ringing
Santa won't you bring me the one I really need
Won't you please bring my baby to me

Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just want to see my baby
Standing right outside my door
Oh I just want him for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby all I want for Christmas is
You

All I want for Christmas is you baby
All I want for Christmas is you baby.
Mariah Carey, All I want for Christmas is you




Will stared down at the small box in his hand, contemplating what he was about to do. He’d spent the better part of a week trying to come up with a gift for her and he’d found nothing, until he dug out a box of his mother’s things. The irony of his life was, he always found what he was looking for right under his nose. Will smiled. Yeah, mate, the woman of your dreams was there all the time, ‘course she was still in nappies but she was there.

Sifting through the jewelry, he nearly gave up on finding anything when his finger snagged the ends of a necklace. Fishing it out, Will remembered it always hanging around his mother’s neck when he was very young. It was beautiful in its simplicity. Simple links, square cut emerald surrounded by four round diamonds, the setting old and elegant. It was perfect.

Or at least he’d thought so, a week prior when he’d taken it to get cleaned, but now he wasn’t so certain. Too much? Not enough? Would she like it? Was it even something she might wear? Will was besieged with doubts. He had no back-up in case she didn’t like it – nothing else to give her – except his other equally sentimental idea, but now he wasn’t sure about that either. Not to mention it was perhaps, just a bit too soon for that.

Looking up at the clock, Will cursed his indecision. No time to go looking for something else. They were meeting in a half hour and he still had to wrap the necklace. Better get to it you git.

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

Buffy eyed the packages piled on her bed. She had thought, when she got the idea, that it was perfect for him, but now she wasn’t sure. He probably already had everything. She pouted a bit, then shrugged. There was no way she was going to be able to change any of it. The book had been sheer luck, but the music was a stroke of genius, at least she’d thought so. Now . . . gah. Too late.

Grabbing the brightly wrapped packages, Buffy headed out the door.

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

For once, she was early, anticipation making her rush. Buffy was huddled under a blanket, her back against the crypt wall, her eyes scanning the area.

Those damn butterflies were back, zinging back and forth in her belly, making her insides sing.

She hadn’t told him that she’d sort of confided in Willow. But despite the redhead’s best efforts, Buffy still hadn’t told her any more than she did that first day. There was no way she was going to betray his trust like that. Or them. One thing she knew – they were in this together and what affected one affected them both. And getting caught would be not of the good and really, she didn’t want to be visiting Will in some icky, yucky jail. Nope.

His whistling a Christmas carol signaled his immanent arrival and Buffy smiled, feeling the butterflies take flight. She lifted her head, her smile blinding.

Will rounded the corner of the mausoleum, his eyes finding her immediately. She was tucked up in a corner, her face lifted to his, her eyes sparkling in the pale moonlight. “Hey you.”

“Hullo love. Been waiting long?” Will leaned against the marble, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Nope not to long.” She held up one edge of the blanket, motioning him closer. “Come snuggle.”

He knelt down, pulling her into his embrace. His nose bumped against her temple. “C’mere you.”

Buffy went willingly into his arms.

Their mouths met, tongues entwining, connecting in the only way they allowed themselves. Will gathered her closer, his hands snaking up under her shirt, cupping both breasts. “God, kitten. . . . love the way you feel.”

Her forehead rested against his lips as she arched into his hands. “Will . . . “

Abruptly he broke off, moving a little bit away from her, his eyes on her face. “You are so beautiful.” He breathed out, his voice husky with need. “You make me feel things, kitten. . . . make me want. . . . Everything.”

Tears sprung into her eyes, because this was the first time he’d spoken of more than the now. She forced them back, smiling at him instead. “You make me feel stuff too.”

“Yeah. Butterflies, right?” His returning smile was crooked, but very real.

“Totally.” Reaching down beside her, Buffy lifted the packages and shyly presented them to him. “Merry Christmas Will.”

“Oh sweetheart.” Dipping into the inside pocket of his duster, Will grabbed the small box. Weighing it in his hand, he held back for a moment, then drew in a deep breath. “Happy Christmas love.”

Buffy glanced down at the little box nervously. She hesitated long enough for him to notice and he nudged her, saying, “go on love, take it.”

With sudden eagerness, Buffy grabbed the box and tore into the silver wrapping. There, nestled against black velvet was a beautiful old necklace – obviously an antique – an emerald adorned with delicate silver filagree and surrounded by four small round diamonds, one on each side. “Oh. Oh, its beautiful.”

“Was, my . . . well, my mum wore it. But I think it was from my da’s family.” His voice was soft, deep with suppressed emotions that she’d grown used to hearing in his tones, but tonight they’d taken on deeper meanings, in light of the gift.

Her eyes were shining with tears when she looked up at him. “And you’re giving it to me? Its. . . oh, its precious to you and you shouldn’t be giving it to me.“

His warm hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips. “Hush, baby. Yeah, its. . . precious, but so are you, love. So are you.”

Buffy whimpered a bit, then leaned forward to capture his lips with hers. “Now you open yours.”

Smiling at her, Will tore open the carefully wrapped packages and stared down at the book in front of him. Buffy whispered, “I figured you probably had something like it, but it’s a second edition. . . printed in 1890.” Her voice trailed off when he wrapped her tightly in his arms, unable to say anything other than a muffled “thank you.”

“There’s more you know.” She added after a moment, pointing to the smaller package still nestled in the folds of the blanket.

“More? Sweetheart, this is too much. . . “ Will was shaking his head at her, but Buffy just thumped him playfully on his chest.

“Shuddup. Its not. Everything you’ve done for me. . . I’d give you a lot more if I could.” She smiled again. “Now open it. C’mon.”

Shaking his head at her, Will grabbed the second package and ripped the paper. “Holy bleedin’ fuck! Where didya find this?! Oh kitten!”

Will whooped in absolute joy, swooping her into his arms, raining kisses across her face as she giggled uncontrollably. “So you like it?” She asked him between gusts of laughter.

“Like ‘em? Are you . . . bloody love ‘em, just like you.”

They both sort of froze at his slip, staring at each other. Buffy’s eyes misted over a little, then she swallowed visibly. “Do you. . . mean that?”

Will brushed her hair back, searching her eyes for revulsion or fear. Finding none, he nodded once. “Have for a while now, petal.” He waited a moment, wondering what she was thinking when her small hand reached out to brush his cheek.

Her voice was a mere whisper, “good, coz so don’t want to feel like this alone.”

“Buffy?” But she was shaking her head, both hands on his face now. He brought his hands up to cover hers when she whispered again. “It is how I feel. . . just . . not sure I can say it yet.”

Will slid his hands around her, fisting one at her nape. “‘S all right kitten. I can wait. . . for you I can wait.”

They both knew he was talking about more than three little words.

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

Every mile that he put between himself and Buffy just made him feel worse. Compounding that was just how very wrong it felt being apart this Christmas. How is this even possible? You barely knew the chit existed . . Now tha’s jus’ bloody wrong. She’d been in his portion of the survey class that sophomores took and she’d caught his eye then. Bloody off limits. . . but adorable as hell.

He didn’t want to spend the holiday with Drusilla and Liam and their girls. Didn’t want to put on a happy face and pretend that his heart wasn’t back in Sunnydale, resting in the hands of a seventeen year old girl. Will wanted to be home, sneaking whatever moments he could, just to be near her. He was two exits away from his destination when his cell phone rang. Lifting it to his ear, Will was greeted with a giggling little girl’s voice, one that always melted his heart. “Unca Will? Did you know Santa’s coming?”

He laughed, realizing that being around Dru’s girls would be good for him. “Yeah, I did sweetpea. You’ve been a good girl?”

She giggled again. “Ahuh. When you coming?”

“Should be there soon sweetness.”

Kathy shrieked in his ear. “Mooooommmmmmyyyy! He’s almosted here!!”

“Right then, sweetpea, put your Mum on the phone.” Will was laughing, despite his sudden deafness.

There was a long pause and finally Drusilla’s laughing voice sounded in his ears. “Hullo William.”

“Hey pet. Next time don’t let halfpint burst m’eardrums.” He was grinning as he said it, but Will was deadly serious.

“Right dearie. How soon before you get here?”

“Bout half an hour.”

Drusilla laughed again. “See you then.”

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

True to his word, Will got to their house in the allotted time to find the lights blazing and the sound of high-pitched girlish laughter echoing in the darkening night. Two little faces flashed into view beneath fairy lights and dark curtains and then he could clearly hear their squeals and pattering of feet as he approached the door. One of the girls flung open the door and both of them were bouncing in the doorway, calling out his name before he got to the bottom step.

Sweeping them up in his arms, Will twirled them around, laughing at their reactions.

Kathleen, older than her sister Darla by a mere eleven months, whispered loudly in his ear. “Unca Will, we’s getting a ‘perise!” Little Darla wrapped her hands around his neck, placing a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. “Unca Will? Am I bestest girl?”

Kissing her quickly, Will said, “sure are my best little girl.”

Another sloppy kiss greeted his statement and Darla whispered “wuv you Unca Will.”

“Oh pet, I love you too.” Carrying both girls into the living room, Will greeted their parents. The three of them had practically grown up together, thick as thieves and always in each other’s pockets, until Liam’s parents had emigrated to the States. Liam had been sixteen, Will was just turned sixteen and Drusilla just a couple of months younger. Liam and Drusilla had been dating and Dru had been devastated when Liam left, turning to Will out of loneliness and a need for comfort. It had been real love – only not the kind that took one’s breath away, not the kind Dru and Liam had – and certainly not what he believed he had with Buffy.

Neither of them had suffered a broken heart when their relationship fell apart after three years, Drusilla heading for the States within days, to find Liam.

Will went on to a series of relationships with girls he either loved too much or not enough, but as Dru pointed out repeatedly, none of them was his equal. Liam and Dru got married while they were still in college, doing the Vegas bit, and Kathleen Edith was born right after Dru had finished and Darla Rose followed within the year. Liam was now a detective with the LAPD and Dru. . . Will kissed his old girlfriend on the cheek and wondered what she was thinking.

“Hello Will.”

“Liam, you prat, how’re ya?” Dumping the little girls onto their feet and shooing them away, Will extended his hand to his oldest friend and one-time rival.

“Doing well. You?” Bypassing the hand, Liam pulled the shorter man into his embrace, pounded him once on the back and let him go.

Will started to answer when the girls came careening back into the living room, giggling and shrieking loudly.

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

For once, Willow’s father didn’t object to her spending Christmas eve with the Summers. Used to slipping out with her mother’s help, Willow was floored when Ira Rosenberg actually agreed to letting her spend the night. So now the two girls were curled up on the couch, watching Christmas videos and munching on popcorn and candy canes and gingerbread.

Buffy leaned forward, to grab another candy cane and the necklace slipped out of her over large black sleep-shirt, catching Willow’s eye. She said nothing for a few minutes, her mind rapidly discarding various ways to bring up the bauble she spied. At the next break between discs, Willow blurted out, “that’s a really pretty necklace. Where didya get it? Is it from him?”

The blonde’s hand automatically covered the emerald, tucking it back under her shirt. A light blush bloomed across her features and Buffy smiled. “Yeah, its my Christmas present.”

“Can I see it?” Willow smiled disarmingly, hoping Buffy would let her get a better glimpse of the pretty piece.

Wordlessly, Buffy lifted the pendant and held it out so her best friend could get a better look at it. “Wow.” Willow looked into Buffy’s eyes. “That’s really . . . Wow.” Once more she paused, then gushed, “so its like serious huh?”

“Yeah.” Buffy felt those butterflies take wing again and she could barely speak for the emotions that were clogging her throat. “Oh Wills. . . I love him so much.”

Willow goggled at her. “You . . . you love him?”

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

It was just after midnight and, only after numerous threats about Santa and his proposed visit, they had finally gotten the two over-anxious and hyper little girls to sleep. Drusilla was quietly humming while cleaning up the detritus of two little girls and two much bigger boys, who should have known better. Liam and Will were outside, bringing in the piles and piles of presents from Santa, when something caught Dru’s attention. She stopped what she was doing, cocked her head to the side and smiled softly to herself.

A knowing twinkle entered her eyes and she laughed a bit, wondering when she could spring this bit of news on her old friend. Oh William, she thought, you sly dog.

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

Buffy looked up at the clock, frowning a bit. Willow had fallen asleep on the couch and it had been impossible to move her, so Joyce had just gotten out the sheets and blankets and covered her, finding it easier than trying to move the sleeping girl. It was now just passed midnight and she was hoping that Will would call, just like he’d promised he would. She missed him totally, like a piece of her was missing and she hadn’t realized it until now.
This was so hard, being apart from him. Unable to touch each other, unable to be open about their relationship, she was beginning to feel more isolated than she had, to feel like she was all alone in the world, without any support. Buffy had never imagined that not having him nearby would be so hard. But it was worse. She hugged Mr. Gordo tight, fighting tears, while she stared at the only picture she had of him, his official picture that was in each yearbook for the school. It was a fairly good picture of him, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t enough. Buffy wanted him here with her, celebrating Christmas.

With her head on her pillow, Buffy stared out into the night, making a Christmas wish.

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

It was sometime after one thirty in the morning when Will finally got settled into the guest room, his duffel bag flung in the corner and his duster slung over the over-stuffed chair Drusilla had placed in the other corner of the room. He halted at the window, looking out into the starry night, and, despite the hour, reached for his cell phone. If he knew Buffy, and he was pretty sure that by now he knew her better than anyone, she would be waiting for him to call.

With the phone to his ear, Will dropped down on the bed to unlace his boots. The phone rang and just before he thought it would switch over to her voice-mail, a very sleepy sounding Buffy answered the phone. “‘Lo kitten.”

“Hey.” He could hear the sleepy pout in her voice and he shook his head.

“Sorry I couldn’t call sooner, but they’ve just now settled in for the night.” He paused, then before she could say anything, he blurted out, “mss you so fuckin’ much, goldilocks.”

“Oh Will. I miss you too.” Buffy rolled over onto her back, letting Mr. Gordo fall to the floor. Her free hand drifted down to the necklace he’d given her and she idly played with it.

They both spoke at the same time, their words eerily similar.

“I wish. . . “

“If wishes. . . “

Buffy’s higher sigh echoed his, only he recovered quicker, his voice reaching out to her across the miles. “Tell me what you’d wish for.”

“I just wish you were here instead of there.” Her soft sigh captured his attention and Will could almost picture her before him. He eased back onto the bed, resting against the headboard, one knee bent and the other leg stretched out, imagining her laying beside him. “So what about your wishes?”

She settled herself more comfortably, plumping the pillows beneath her head. He chuckled a little and she let the sound wash over her. “Oh kitten. . . you know. . . wishes.”

“C’mon, are you afraid to tell me your wishes?” She teased him, trying to coax him into again admitting that he missed her.

His voice dropped, the rasped huskiness sending shivers down her spine. “Sunshine, I’d wish for you here, with me, warm and wet an’ . . . “ he stopped, knowing this discussion would only lead to a long sleepless night. And a very unfulfilled one.

“And?” Buffy’s suddenly sultry voice had him scrambling for a few seconds, until his equilibrium caught up with him and Will grinned. All right, kitten, let’s see how far you wanna take this. . .

“Hhhmmm” he pretended to think about what he wished for, for a few seconds, stretching out the anticipation. “Oh, let’s see, what else would I wish for. . “ Will shifted a bit, getting more comfortable on the bed, trying to picture her in his mind’s eye.

“Tell me.” She whispered breathily, the sound shooting right to his cock. “Please, Will. . . “

“You’d be wearin’ my tee-shirt an’ maybe some pretty pink panties.” His grin morphed into a leer, but his expression changed when she whispered back, “um, Will? How about your tee-shirt and Christmas red panties?”

His groaned response went right through her and emboldened by it, Buffy kept up the assault on his senses. “So you like the Christmas red? Will, that’s what I’m . . its what I’ve got on right now. That tee shirt I stole from you and . . . “

“Oh hell, kitten. . . “ Almost of its own volition, Will’s hand snaked down to his waistband, and before he realized it, he’d popped all the buttons on his jeans. He cleared his throat, barely grinding out, “yeah. . . red is good too baby.”

“So. . . “ Buffy hesitated, her breath sounding just a tiny bit strained to his ear, then whispering, “what else would you do?”

He was quiet for so long that Buffy thought he’d fallen asleep, but then suddenly he said, “kitten, just how far do you want to take this right now?”

“What do you mean?” Buffy was a little confused, not sure what he was asking.

His laugh was deep and rich, but short. “Sweetheart, I’m sitting here with my. . . bits all danglin’ and if you aren’t ready for this, I need to stop now.”

“Oh. Oh, Will. . . “ she waited a second, trying to decide if she was squicked by what he was saying and when all it did was set off the butterflies, Buffy knew she didn’t want to stop him. “Will. . . please don’t stop.”

“Oh baby girl. . . what you do to me.” He rasped out the words, grinning to himself about her possible expression. “Kitten, do something for me, yeah?”

“Anything” slipped out of her mouth before she could censor it and his breathing got heavier.

“Got your headset?” Putting his own thought to action, Will plugged in the hands free and then laid the phone on the bed next to him.

“My headset? Yeah, why?” She moved around a bit, then the light must’ve dawned on what he was suggesting. “Oh. . . oh! Yeah.”

He grinned, his eyes focused on a vision of her, spread out and waiting for him. There was more rustling and then her voice sounded right in his head, her breathing a little heavy.

“Okay” she giggled softly, confiding, “I’ve never done this before.”

“You sure ‘bout this then?” He wanted to kick himself for offering her an out, but Buffy wasn’t going to back down now. This is a little crazy, she thought, but for him I’ll do anything.

“Will, I’ve already got my panties off. . . “

Holy bleedin’ fuck. “Guess you want to, then.” He paused, trying to come up with some way to make her more comfortable, when her breathy little voice sounded in his ear.

“Are you comfy? Still got all your clothes on?”

She’d shocked him a bit, but Will was already way ahead of her.

“Not wearin’ anything but the sheet, princess. An’ I’m harder than a rock. Buffy, love. . . slip those tiny hands under tha’ shirt.” She was quiet, the only sound her little hitching breaths and he rumbled out softly. “Kitten need you to talk to me. . . . tell me what you’re doing.”

“Ohhkay. . . . not sure what you want, um, my hands are on my belly under the shirt.”

Oh Christ ‘m gonna have to talk her through all of this this. Which really, isn’t so bad, now is it? “All right love, move those pretty little fingers, yeah, bring one to your nipple . . . play with it a bit.”

She gave a tiny protest, and he started to speak, when her voice breathed out, “where do you . . . what else should I do?”

“Mmm. Slip that other hand down, baby girl, brush against those curls for me.” He waited a few seconds, then whispered, “how’s that feel, baby? Feels good?”

Her voice was sweet in his ear. “Yeah. Will . . . . are you?”

“Am I what baby?” He stroked his cock, running his fingers up and down his hard length. “Have I got my fist ‘round my cock wishin’ it was you? Yeah.”

Those butterflies were in full flight, careening wildly in the confines of her belly, making her breath hitch and dip. His next barely spoken words pushed her further. “Listen baby girl, want you to slide your fingers into your pussy. . . get ‘em nice an’ wet for me.”

She whined out something incoherent, making his cock twitch. His command was harsh, but soothing at the same time. “Tell me how you feel, kitten.”

“Oh. . . like. . . its soft . . . and warm. . . its really warm and wet. Is it supposed to be this wet?”

Her artless question sent him over and Buffy could hear the affectionate amusement in his voice. “Only for me baby.”

“Kay, then this is all your fault.”

“Oh, you teasin’ me now?”

“Mmmm. . . maybe. . . Will? Is this what you feel when you kiss me here?”

The hand on his cock sped up, and his words where broken up by harsh gasps and Buffy knew he was as affected as she was. “Oh bloody. . . yeah, kitten, all that. . . . slide those fingers in, c’mon baby. . . . for me. Find your clit, angel, c’mon.”

“Thats. . . . oh. . . Will? Oh. . . “ Buffy swirled her fingers over her clit, her breathing no more than mewling little gasps. “Will. . . . “

“Tha’s m’girl. . . faster . . . . c’mon.” He could barely speak, his words little more than grunts as he urged her on, matching her hitching gasps.

“Oh. . . . huh.”

“Its m’mouth on you. . . . . me. . . c’mon baby. . . . cum for me.”

A soft high pitched whimper hit his ears and Will grunted in satisfaction. She was panting now, her fingers circling furiously over that tiny nub of flesh, her body arching up off the bed. “What. . . you. . . Will. . . need. . . can’t. . . . can’t.”

Almost sobbing, Buffy begged him to send her over the edge. “Baby, cum with me. . . gonna. . . . Buffy. . . . want you. . . faster, c’mon angel-girl . . . . Wanna drink you down. . . feel you around me. . . “

He couldn’t talk anymore, his own release reducing him to incoherent sounds and deep grunts. Their breathing hitched together and he rumbled out her name from somewhere deep in his chest as she whimpered, convulsed a little and cried out his name in a hitched sob.

It was long minutes while their breathing returned to normal. Will finally opened his eyes, then let out a deep breath. “Kitten? Buffy? Baby, talk to me.”

“Will?” She giggled a bit, then breathed out a question. “Should I . . . . I’m shaking again. Is that. . . another?”

A purely masculine grin crossed his features and if Buffy had seen it, she probably would have slapped him. She thought she was recovering when his deep rumble set off the butterflies again. “Yeah, sunshine. Tha’s what happens.”

“So . . . we just wanked together?”

He spluttered out a laugh. “Oh baby, you are. . . you could say that, sunshine.”

A giggle escaped her. “So that’s phone sex?” Buffy giggled again, then shocked the hell out of him by asking, “can we do it again?”

Will groaned deeply, rasping out, “whenever you’re ready sunshine.”

And Buffy smiled into her phone and asked sweetly, “how ‘bout right now?”

Eighteenth. I’ll have a blue Christmas without you.

I'll have a Blue Christmas without you
I'll be so blue thinking about you
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me

I'll have a Blue Christmas that's certain
And when that blue heartache starts hurtin'
You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white,
But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas
Billy Hayes and Jay Johnson


I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
and presents on the tree
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
Kim Gannon and Walter Kent




Will woke far too early for most normal humans, to find two little sprites bouncing on his bed, their voices very soft. One of the little angels pressed her mouth to his ear, whispering, “Unca Will are we quiet? Mommy says we gotta be quiet til its time to waked up.”

He rolled over, getting an armful of little girl, Kathy tumbling over his chest while Darla sat on his legs, kicking her feet off the mattress. “We was quiet as mouses, right?”

There was no way he could tell those two to go away and let him sleep, much as he’d like to, but house rules said that no one opened presents until everyone was awake. No doubt these two had been waiting long enough. He groaned internally, sitting up. “All right, you two, ‘m up. Go tell your mum.”

Darla scrambled off the bed first, hitting the door and the sound barrier at the same time. “Daddy! Unca Will’s awaked!”

Kathy rolled over, her little face just inches from his. “Unca Will? I gots a present for you, come see!” She tried tugging him from the bed, barely budging him.

“Go on poppet, I’ll be right there.” Will watched her scurry from the bed, her fluffy slippers almost tripping her up as she practically ran from his room, chasing after Darla.

Will rolled over onto his side, squinting at the bedside clock. It was barely six and he’d gotten little over two hours sleep. He’d kept Buffy on the phone until four when it was apparent they were both in danger of falling asleep.

It had been one of the best conversations he’d ever had, phone sex aside, and he hadn’t wanted to hang up. He’d promised her, that when the holidays were over they would figure out some way to spend more than a few stolen moments together.

Darla’s shrieks sounded in the hallway as Liam scooped her up after chasing her from their bedroom. Passing his opened door with the little girl hanging off his shoulder, Liam grumbled, “I’m up, Will, time to haul yer arse outta bed.”

His daughter’s outraged giggled ratted him out. “Mommy, Daddy sayed a bad word. Get soap!”

Liam slapped her butt playfully, “I thought you were on my side.”

“Mommy promist me ice cream.” She wriggled, trying to get out of his arms, calling out, “Unca Will, Santa came!”

Drusilla passed his door, her long hair falling down her back and a grin crossing her features, “C’mon Will, come see what prezzies we’ve got.”

Grumbling half-heartedly and praying that he’d be able to get a nap at some point, Will got out of bed.

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

It was nearly noon when she finally made her way downstairs only to find that her mother was the only one awake. Willow was still sacked out comfortably on the couch.

“Merry Christmas.” Joyce barely looked up from her coffee when Buffy entered the kitchen.

“Yup. Merry Christmas to you too Mom.” She headed straight for the refrigerator for the grapefruit and orange juices.

“Buffy, have you given any thought to the Finn’s offer?”

Are you fucking joking? Its Christmas morning and she wants to talk about Riley? And . . . . augh! She’s impossible. Buffy slammed the refrigerator shut. “You wanna talk about this today?”

“Why not? What’s wrong with talking about this now?” Joyce stared at her daughter over the rim of her coffee cup, a set look on her face.

“Coz, its Christmas. You know peace on earth and all that? Can we talk about this some other time?” Buffy leaned against the counter, unfazed by her mother’s expression.

“No, I think we should talk about it now. You’ve been avoiding me since the other day and you don’t ever want to talk about this. Now’s as good a time as any.”

Buffy was shaking her head. “Nope, Mom. Not in the mood to discuss this and besides, Willow is still sleeping on the couch.”

“Buffy, we need to talk about this. You can’t keep putting it off. I have a feeling that this is going to be their final offer and then you won’t have anything.” Joyce refilled her mug, her jaw clenching as the argument escalated.

“You know something Mom, this isn’t the time to talk about it. Its Christmas, and I’m trying to keep happy thoughts in my head.” Adding silently, and you really aren’t helping, coz Riley is so not a happy thought. “So can we please talk about this later?”

“I really want to talk about it now.” Placing the mug on the counter, Joyce turned to face her only child, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Mom. I’m not getting into this with you. Not today. We can talk about it tomorrow. Its not like anything is gonna get finalized today anyway. It’s a holiday. Remember?” Buffy faced off against her mother, her jaw just as set and her stance just as belligerent.

“We could at least be ready to accept first thing in the morning.”

“No. If you want an answer that’s it. I’m not accepting.” Buffy put her half finished glass of orange juice mixed with grapefruit juice down, unable to finish it because of the nerves tightening her belly. “If you keep pushing Mom, I’m just going to keep saying no.”

“You can’t do that. You aren’t an adult and I can accept the offer on your behalf.” Joyce pushed herself away from the counter, reaching for Buffy’s arm.

Buffy pulled away from her mother, moving toward the hallway. “Do that Mom and I’ll leave. I won’t take their money.”

“Don’t speak to me in that tone of voice, young lady. You’ll do what I tell you. If I think this offer is something we should accept then you’ll accept it.” Joyce closed the distance between them, bringing up her hand as if to slap Buffy.

Grabbing her hand, stopping her mother’s forward motion, Buffy said, “you really don’t want to do this Mom. I asked you not to bring it up now, and you didn’t let it go. I can’t talk about this right now. And stop pushing me.”

Without another word, Buffy headed up the stairs to her room, fighting the tears of anger and frustration that were threatening.

Willow watched her go, sympathy flooding her features, but when Joyce emerged from the kitchen a few moments later, the redhead was feigning sleep.

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

He and Liam both managed to nap in the early afternoon, falling asleep in the chairs, while the girls played with their dolls and tea-sets and dress up clothes quietly in front of the tree. Drusilla watched the two of them, a small smile playing about her lips. Oh she had news for Will, news he probably wasn’t going to like very much, at least not now. Tilting her head, Dru listened to something only she could hear and, with a last look at the girls, she sped off to her bedroom.

When he woke up, the girls were playing quietly and Drusilla was nowhere to be found, but Will had thought he’d distinctly heard his name being called, but he just didn’t. . . . if he had been more asleep, he would’ve sworn he was dreaming because the voice sounded like Buffy’s.

Shaking his head, Will got up and wandered into the kitchen, to find Drisilla sitting at the table, a bunch of cards strewn about the table. Taking one look at the cards spread before her, Will knew she wasn’t playing solitaire. Drawn to the table, Will bypassed the refrigerator to see what she was doing. Drusilla motioned him to sit, and then scooped up the cards and handed them to him.

“Shuffle them.”

Expertly shuffling the cards, Will stared at the almost exotic features of his former girlfriend. “So pet, what’s new?”

She smiled a bit, shook her head, saying gently, “let’s see what the cards say before I tell you what’s going on with us, okay? Cut the deck.”

“All right.“ He laid out three piles of cards, then stacked them up again. When he was finished with that, she took the deck from him and she said a brief prayer under her breath and she laid out seven cards. Taking one look at them, Drusilla’s smiled widened and she began speaking.

“So, William, you’ve met someone. There’s lots of . . . “ she pointed to the second card, the eight of swords. “Things are very rough for her right now, she’s got some hard things she’s dealing with and nothing’s going very easily for her is it?”

He was shaking his head, murmuring under his breath something that Drusilla didn’t hear. She tapped a long fingernail against the next card, a knowing glint in her eyes. “So she’s captured your heart and it looks like you’ve captured hers.” When he didn’t speak, to either confirm or deny her vision, Drusilla continued the reading. She glanced back to the first card and blurted out the question before she thought to censor it. “Is she pregnant?”

Without waiting for him to confirm that, Dru nodded her head, “she is. Oh Will. . . . what are you going to do?”

Will got up from the table, pacing the length of the kitchen, avoiding her gaze. He wondered just how much he could confide in her and, suddenly giving in, knowing he needed to talk to someone before he exploded, William leaned against the counter. He started talking, his eyes never leaving Drusilla’s face. “She is pregnant, but its not mine. I haven’t touched her, not that way, not yet. The baby’s father dumped her as soon as he found out and she’s . . . Dru, pet, you need to promise me something here.”

She got up from the table, leaving the cards laid out, and stood next to him. Her hand was on his folded arms, and her mothering instinct took over at the look on his face. “Talk to me Will, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothin’s wrong.” He laughed, then said honestly, “not much is bloody right either.” He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the curls into wild disarray. “Your promise, Dru, of silence, before I go on.”

“You know I’ll keep . . . I won’t say a word. So tell me.” He laid his head down on her shoulder, seeking comfort from her nearness, then straightened up and averted his eyes from her intense gaze.

“She’s only seventeen. One of my students.” Drusilla made no comment, merely waiting for him to continue, but she did lay her hand on his clenched hand offering silent comfort. “Always thought she was bloody adorable, but never did anythin’ but look. Til I found her wandering about a cemetery, crying her eyes out an’ lost. She’d just found out about the baby, hadn’t even told the father or her mum. And when she told the boy, he flipped on her. Damn near assaulted her and then dumped her. Her mother is never home, always traveling. And her bloody father. . . . she told him over Thanksgiving and the fucking bastard threw her out of his house. She called me to come get her, because she’d been out on the street for almost a full day. “ He closed his eyes as renewed anger flooded through his body. A muscle ticked in his jaw and Drusilla knew the hold on his temper was tenuous at best.

He blew out a breath, mentally counting down, trying to get his temper under control. Dru ran a gentle hand over his chin, drawing his face to look at her. “Do you love her?” She looked into his eyes, finding the truth in those incredible blue eyes. “Never could lie well, silly boy. You do love her. What are you going to do?”

“Soon as she’s old enough, I’m gonna marry her.” There it was. He’d finally said it out loud, admitted it to someone other than himself. “Not gonna let her go, Dru. She’s mine.”

“Have you told her this?” Drusilla left his side, filling the kettle, her mind trying to come up with something to say to him about all this.

“Not yet. Christ, she’s only seventeen. Still in school. Still in my bloody classroom. Can’t . . . . Don’t want to,” he ran his hand through his hair again, almost pulling some out. “Could get into a world of trouble over this. We’re already walkin’ a fine line.”

“So you aren’t being foolish then. I was beginning to worry when you said she was only seventeen.” Drusilla faced him, her eyes full of caring and concern. “Have you slept with her yet?”

“Slept yes. Had sex, no.” He paused, then paced around a bit. “She’s not ready yet. Besides, we can’t. . . I won’t do that until she’s eighteen. ‘m not a complete idiot.”

Her light laughter filled the kitchen. “Glad to hear that. You do know the dangers involved.”

It wasn’t a question, but then he hadn’t expected it to be one. He trusted Drusilla to speak her mind and to tell it straight, and not sugar coat things. She might go off on how the universe would see things right and how little birdies or pixies or some such had told her in a vision, but she wouldn’t ever lie to him or withhold her opinion.

“Yeah, which is why I’m not pushing her.”

“All right then. You’ll just have to trust the stars that it will be all right in the end.” Dru leaned over the table, once more glancing down at the cards laid out on the table. While the beginning cards weren’t overtly “happy” cards, there was the possibility that it was all temporary, and there, at the end were the signs she’d been looking for. The King of Cups, the Empress and the very last card was the Ace of Cups. So there it is, you, her, happiness and lots of babies. One final glimpse at all the cards and Drusilla debated with herself about what to tell him. She’d never lied to him before and the upcoming events weren’t going to be easy. Glancing at him from beneath lowered eyelids, Drusilla read the agitation and upset covering him like a shroud and she made her decision.

“Will? Come look at something.” She pointed down at the cards, running her hand in the air over them. “See these? Those are the good news, that things will eventually be settled and you’ll both be okay. But these are what you have to get through first.” She pointed to the swords, and he nodded, not necessarily understand the meaning of each card, but going by the pictures, he could guess.

“So its going to be worse before it gets better, yeah?”

“Pretty much. Just keep faith, Will, everything will work out in the end.”

“I have to believe that Dru. It’s the only thing keepin’ me sane.”

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

They’d spent most of the day avoiding each other, neither one of them willing to budge and Buffy firmly resolved not to speak about anything that had money or Finn in the conversation. She managed to avoid Willow’s questions, promising her she would talk about it when she wasn’t so angry about the whole situation, but she couldn’t promise when that was going to be.

She couldn’t believe how incredibly insensitive her mother was. What kind of mom brings up stuff like this on freaking Christmas? What the hell had she been thinking? Buffy shook her head, unable to figure her mother out. Apparently she couldn’t get past the idea of all that money, not caring about what Buffy was trying to say, or the point she was trying to make.

It wasn’t like she wanted anything to do with Riley Finn anymore. I’d be a clam if I never saw or heard his name ever again. But I don’t have that luxury. Bleah. So not your fault baby. Buffy cupped her hand over the growing bulge of her belly. All her clothes still fit, pretty much, except for some of the skimpier outfits, but getting bummed about that was silly, since there was a whole list of things to wig about. Staring at the bump in the mirror, she turned sideways and flattened her shirt, pulling it tight against her skin. Nope, not big at all. Just a teeny-tiny little lumpy-bumpy. Hello baby. Mommy’s looking at you. She giggled a bit, then collapsed on her bed.

Willow had gone home an hour ago and she had been sitting up in her room, trying not to think about Riley, or her mom or money, but it was difficult. It had been almost two months since she’d had a conversation with him and she finally had enough of the reminders of him around her room. There were pictures taped to her mirror and gifts and stolen clothes and notes and little toys that he’d given her and she was sick of looking at them, or having them around. Grabbing her wastebasket, Buffy ripped down the pictures, tossing them in, then moved around the room, gathering everything.

Within minutes of her almost frenzied attack the wastebasket was filled and she needed something bigger to hold the remains of her failed relationship. She was going to be ruthless, cut him out of her life completely, and just dump his stuff somewhere. Running down the stairs to find something bigger, Buffy scrounged around and finally located a box in the basement. Hauling the empty box up the stairs took her only a few moments, and despite some banging, she managed to get away without her mother’s interference.

She never realized just how much stuff he’d given her, from stupid little toys to expensive jewelry, plus the notes and cards they’d passed back and forth in the hallway and Buffy just threw it all in the box. It was all garbage and she wanted no reminders of Riley Finn anymore.

Throwing in a tee-shirt, Buffy held onto the cards and letters, trying to figure out how to get rid of them. Oohh, I know. Dumping all that into the wastebasket, she raced for the stairs. Breezing through the dark kitchen, Buffy grabbed the automatic lighter for the grill, heading directly out the back door. She opened the barbeque, removed the grill and tossed all the papers inside. Quickly, before she could second guess herself, Buffy held the automatic lighter to loose piece of paper, and watched while the flame caught and held.

Stepping back away from the fire, Buffy watched as the flames flared high and burned.

Goodbye Riley. Goodbye.

The flames must have blazed too high, because while she watched, her eyes intent on the orange glow, the back door flew open and Joyce yelled at her from the back porch. “Buffy, what are you doing?”

Without turning her head to look at her, Buffy said, “I’m getting rid of some garbage Mom. Don’t worry about it.”

“What? Don’t worry about it? What are you burning?” Joyce started down the steps, the small kitchen fire extinguisher in her hands. “Buffy move away from the grill.”

“I’m fine. Its gonna burn out in a couple of minutes anyway.” And even as she watched, the flames started going down, the ashes of her childhood blowing away on the slight breeze.

Her mother dropped the fire extinguisher, a strange expression on her face as she watched her daughter stare at the fire. “Buffy what was that?”

The fire had burned out and there was nothing left, mere curled and burned pieces of paper in the bottom of the barbeque. Buffy put the grills back on, then closed the top. “Just papers and stuff that I don’t want any more.”

Joyce looked at her, noting the lack of emotion in her eyes, but the slight track of tears on her cheek made a mockery of the stoic expression. As Buffy walked passed, Joyce held out her arm, slowing her movement. “Buffy? What was all that?”

“Like I said Mom, it was notes and cards that I don’t want any more. Nothing important.”
Buffy shook off her hold, heading toward the house.

Finally catching on a bit, Joyce followed her inside, asking quietly, “do you want to talk about it?”

“No Mom. I just wanted to get rid of the garbage.”

Without any further explanation, Buffy went back up the stairs to her bedroom.

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

The box was still sitting in the middle of her bedroom when she went to bed that night. Buffy couldn’t decide what to do with the clothes or the stuffed animals. She did know one thing though, she wanted no more reminders of Riley or their time together hanging around. That part of her life was done, over with and very much a part of her past. The only reminder she was willing to have was the baby, but in her heart, this was just her baby, and Riley had no right to make any demands or decisions regarding the two of them. There was really only one thing she wanted from him. And that wasn’t so much the money but the acknowledgment that he had some responsibility also. In the back of her mind she knew her thoughts were contradictory in a way, but she didn’t care. Riley should take some – maybe not responsibility – but he should at least admit that the baby was his. He wasn’t even doing that.

She had just gotten out of the shower and her hair was still wrapped in a towel when her cell phone rang. Glancing at the time, she figured it was way to early to be Will and it had to be either Willow or Xander.

Her insides melted when she heard Will’s voice and Buffy sighed into the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself, kitten. How was your day?”

“Pretty okay. Mom decided she wanted to wig on me about something, and we almost had a screaming match over it, but we didn’t.” She fiddled with the edge of the towel covering her from armpit to mid-thigh, wondering when she could tease him with what she wasn’t wearing.

“Fighting about anything in particular?” He had a pretty good idea of what it might be, but he figured he’d ask anyway.

“About the money. They upped the offer.” She’d told him everything during one of their cemetery meetings and Will agreed with her about making Riley pay monthly.

“Ah, and she’s trying to get you to change your mind.”

“Pretty much.” She hesitated, then blurted out, “really don’t want to talk about this tonight. How was your day?”

“Was good. The girls were adorable, even though they woke me up just after six this morning.” He chuckled when she finally giggled, picturing him being all rumpled and sexy early in the morning.

“I miss you Will. A lot.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and he could almost see the sad expression in her eyes.

“Me too, sweetheart. Kept thinking about you all day.” He settled down onto the bed, shifting so that the pillows were bunched behind him. The tension between them was thick, and he couldn’t think of a way to break it, torn between what he wanted and what he thought she needed.

Buffy wasn’t comfortable. The towel was wet and her head was heavy from trying to balance the towel and the phone at the same time. She shifted, nearly dropping the phone and said, “Will, I need to put the phone down, my towel is falling off.”

“Towel?”

“I just got out of the shower.”

And the tension was gone. “Did you now.”

Her breath hitched as she answered him. “Yeah. I’m, uh, I haven’t dried off yet.”

“Oh fuck, baby. . . “ He breathed heavily through his nose, inhaling sharply. “So you’re all wet, are you?”

“Yeah.” Her voice took on the tones he’d coaxed from her . . . was it just last night?

“Will? I wish you were here. . . “

And just like that he was lost.

Nineteenth. A storm is swelling.

Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.
Trouble me on the days when you feel spent.
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and
strong?
Trouble me.

Speak to me, don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling;
There's no telling where it starts or how it ends.
Speak to me, why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me when your
silence is my greatest fear?
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and
strong?
Speak to me.

Let me have a look inside these eyes while I’m learning.
Please don't hide them just because of tears.
Let me send you off to sleep with a "there, there, now stop your turning and
tossing."
Let me know where the hurt is and how to heal.

Spare me? don't spare me anything troubling.
Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.
Speak to me and let our words build a shelter from the storm.
Lastly, let me know what i can mend.
There's more, honestly, than my sweet friend, you can see.
Trust is what I’m offering if you trouble me.
Trouble me, Dennis Drew and Natalie Merchant



Two days after Christmas, Buffy had talked Xander and Willow into helping her get rid of the box containing Riley’s stuff. Together the three of them had wrestled the box into the back of Xander’s car and then piled into the car. Glancing into the rearview mirror, Xander asked, “So Buffster, where to?”

“Riley’s house.” She stared him down, unafraid to meet his eyes.

“Are you sure? Why do you wanna go there?” Xander had swung around to look at her, his expression clearly confused.

Willow was shaking her head, muttering under her breath, “so not good. Why do you wanna talk to him? He’s a big poopyhead. What are you gonna do when you see him? This is not good. Can’t we wait until like never?”

But Buffy was shaking her head at both of them. “Guys, not going to talk to him at all. Don’t wanna even see him. We’re just gonna do a drive by, I swear.”

“This is a bad idea.” Xander turned around and put the car in gear, despite his misgivings.

“Trust me guys, I know what I’m doing.” The two in the front shared a skeptical look, but neither one said anything.

Xander stopped the car half a block away from Riley’s, once more asking Buffy if she was sure she wanted to do this. When Buffy responded by saying simply “keep going Xand,” he did.

Just as they were passing the Finn’s house, Buffy looked at the box of stuff and an idea formed in her head. “Hey, stop the car.”

“Oh no, no no. Buffy this is really not good. Coz, look all the cars and that means someone is home and you don’t want to talk to someone and really, this is such a bad idea. “ Willow was babbling, waving her hands like crazy as Buffy slipped from the backseat.

“Wills, I need to do this.” Buffy leaned back into the car, grabbing one end of the box, pulling it toward her. Xander finally caught on, and with a calming word to Willow, he got out of the car to help Buffy with the box. She shot him a grateful look. “Thanks.”

The two of them dumped the contents of the box on Riley’s front lawn, and Buffy kicked some of the stuff, then marched over to the front door. She rang the bell twice, then without waiting for someone to answer, turned her back on the door and walked slowly back to where Xander waited in the middle of the lawn. Her smile got wider the closer she got to him and he couldn’t help the laughter that just seeing her smile caused.

He was nearly doubled over with it, between the look in Buffy’s eyes and the insane babbling coming from Willow and then, when the front door was flung open and Riley’s shouted outrage sounded in the air, Xander finally lost it. He staggered back to his car, convulsing with laughter. Completely ignoring the shouts and Riley’s looming presence behind her, Buffy passed Xander and got into the back of his car.

Riley was yelling, his face bright red, inches away from Xander’s, and he appeared all set to get into a fight. Xander, however, wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. He straightened away from the car and shaking his head at Riley’s attitude, he circled around him and, just like Buffy, got into the car without a word.

They drove off to the sight of Riley standing in the middle of the street, yelling at the top of his lungs. The three in the car shared a look and then exploded into giggles.

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

She was beginning to really hate her mother. It was sad to admit that to herself, but really, Buffy was slowly coming to the realization her mother wasn’t always a nice person. And sometimes she was downright nasty and mean. They’d spent the days following Christmas doing nothing but fighting about the money and what Buffy was going to do once the baby arrived.

The only bright spot in her whole vacation had been the nightly phone calls from Will. He’d called her every night, usually no later than midnight and they spend hours talking to each other. Okay, so not all of it was spent talking, at least not coherently, but Buffy figured that counted anyway since they sometimes did use words.

So other than that moment when she’d dumped everything of Riley’s back on his front lawn and the phone calls from Will, this Christmas vacation had sucked. Literally. Which explained in a way, why she was looking forward to school starting again.

Her mother was going out for New Year’s, and she was supposed to go to Willow’s but Buffy wasn’t feeling so good. She hadn’t felt good all day, napping from midmorning until early afternoon and that still hadn’t helped much. Buffy was currently hunched over the toilet, her stomach clenching with debilitating cramps. Nothing was staying down and today was the worst she’d ever felt.

The mashed potatoes she’d eaten earlier had long since vacated her stomach and there was nothing she even wanted to be near, except one. But she’d promised herself, when he’d told her he wasn’t going to be in Sunnydale for the holidays, that she wasn’t going to call him and beg him to come home. No matter how much she wanted him too. Right now she wanted to be able to crawl into his arms and rest her head against his chest. To curl up in his arms whenever she wanted to, to feel his strong hands cupping her cheek or brushing over her hair. Buffy wanted. . . she wanted to be beside him out in the open. No hiding. No pretending that this wasn’t real.

She leaned back against the tub, putting her head down on the top ledge, breathing heavily through her nose. Her mind focused on images of Will and what she wanted for the future. She loved him. She could admit it to herself, even if she wasn’t quite ready to say the words out loud, but she wanted to show him. Buffy wanted to give hm everything she could, everything he wanted.

Finally, after long minutes trying to control her breathing, her belly calmed and Buffy was able to stumble from the bathroom into her room. Dropping onto her bed, she closed her eyes and pulled Mr. Gordo and Will’s shirt into her arms and settled into sleep.

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

For the first time in five years, Will wasn’t enjoying himself at Liam’s and Drusilla’s New Year’s Eve party. By his own choice, he was without a date, and instead of circulating his way though the rest of the guests, Will was sitting in the kitchen alone.

More than one of Liam’s fellow cops or their wives had tried dislodging him from his perch, but Will wasn’t. . . he’d tried to get into the spirit, tried just going with the flow and having a good time, but he couldn’t make it work. He missed her. Times like this he felt like half a person, without his arm or . . . some part of him that was vital, something that kept him going. How the hell did this happen so quickly? He’d never wanted to spend every waking moment with one person before, not ever. None of the girls he’d dated had ever affected him the way she did with just a smile. Or worse, a tear.

She wasn’t the most beautiful of all his girlfriends, but then that wasn’t what drew him to her, although she was absolutely adorable and he could spend hours just watching emotions play over her features. No, it wasn’t her looks that had drawn him in. . . it was her. Everything about her. Her smile, her tears, her strength, her weakness. . . . her tiny little hands. . . . The tilt of her head when she was intent. Her scent. The silkiness of her skin. There wasn’t a part of her that he didn’t . . . love. Will closed his eyes, fighting his sudden need to be near her.

Yeah, right you bleedin’ jackass. Sudden? Nothin’ sudden about this. Been needin’ her for days only now you’re willing to admit it. He jumped visibly when a soft hand touched his arm and he opened his eyes to see Drusilla watching him intently.

“All right, Will?” The concern in her voice was his undoing.

“No. ‘M not all right, pet.” He shook his head, trying to deny his own emotions. “Can’t get her out of m’head tonight.”

Drusilla moved away, getting ice for her drink. “What’s wrong?”

“Christ love, I wish I knew.” He looked away from her steady gaze, unwilling to let her see just how upset he was. Blinking away the tears, Will growled in agitation. “Just feels like part of me is missin’. Like I can’t get a deep breath b’cause she’s not here with me. An’ I feel like a bloody git for feelin’ this way.”

Slowly Drusilla put her glass down, trying to compose an answer that wouldn’t make him shy away from her. “Will, what you’re feeling isn’t,” she paused, for once at a loss for words. “Its how I felt when Liam left, when his parents took him away. And I’m sorry now, for using you and turning to you but I was just so lost and alone. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest.”

“Weren’t using me pet, we were using each other. I missed him too, you know. Was m’bloody best friend.” He finally turned to look at her and when she saw the tears in his eyes, Drusilla reacted. Pulling him into her embrace, she let him rest his head on her shoulder.

“Oh dear heart, don’t. . . “ soothing him, she pitched her voice low so that no one could hear them. “Now you know, Will. . . She’s all over you, you’re covered with her and you don’t feel right without her. Go on upstairs and call your girl.” Lifting his head away from her, she kissed his forehead, then said, “give her my love, will you?”

Nodding as he moved away from her arms, Will wiped his eyes, looking for all the world like a lonely, lost little boy. Her hand on his arm stopped him from leaving the room. “And Will? No matter what, do not leave here tonight.”

“Dru?” His voice was thick with unshed tears, but he heard the warning, “what is it?”

“Promise me, you won’t leave until the morning. Its not. . . “ her eyes took on a far-away look and she was no longer really in the room with him. “Not safe to leave.”

It had been a long time since he’d seen that particular look or heard that particular ghostly tone in her voice, but he’d learned the hard way not to ignore it.

“Promise.”

“Yeah, pet, I promise.”

Drusilla let him go without another word.

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

Two hours later, Will was regretting his promise to Drusilla not to leave.

He’d gone almost directly upstairs to his room after leaving her, intent on calling Buffy and spending the rest of the night talking to her. Which is precisely what he’d done. What he hadn’t planned on was the reaction of his girlfriend when he called.

She was crying, had been crying for most of the phone call, when she wasn’t telling him to hold on because she needed to puke. Instead of lying on their respective beds, just talking, Will was up, pacing the floor, while Buffy was sobbing in his ear.

“Sweetheart. Please, take a deep breath and try to calm down.” Her hiccuped breathing sounded loud, and he swore he could almost hear her head shake.

“I’m trying. Its hard. I feel like shit and I can’t stop . . . “ Buffy whined a little, which just edged his agitation higher. He was practically stomping across the floor, caught between Drusilla’s warning and Buffy’s need, with nowhere to go but within the four walls. He felt like every nerve was on edge, his insides being gutted and broiled and he knew he was clenching his teeth, but he couldn’t make himself relax.

His back was to the door, his attention focused intently on listening to his girl weeping and Will missed it completely when Drusilla slipped into the room behind him.

Her hand on his back had him jumping almost out of his skin, but her soft words and concerned expression mollified him a bit. She held out her hand for the phone and he reluctantly turned it over to her.

“Buffy?”

“Who’s this?” Belligerent wariness filled her and Buffy forgot what she’d been about to say to him when the unknown female voice sounded in her ear. “Who are you?”

A soft sigh that ended on a little laugh escaped from Drusilla. “He did tell you about me, didn’t he? Its Drusilla, sweetling.”

“His old girlfriend?” The wariness got more pronounced and Dru relented.

“Very old girlfriend, dearie. I’m an old married lady now. Not good enough for the likes of our sweet William.” She laughed, sticking her tongue out at the subject of her conversation. “So tell me, little pixie, why our prince is all growly and upset.”

Buffy sniffled, then launched into a litany of why she wasn’t happy. Dru listened, not once interrupting until Buffy had stopped crying and was talking calmly. It didn’t take very long, since all Drusilla did was listen and not try to talk her out of her mood or cut her off. She waited until the words were trickling down to a standstill, instead of the torrent they’d started out as, and she finally said, “just so you know dearie, the first months of pregnancy are horrible. Everything inside is topsy-turvy and there’s no one to explain why. When you’re feeling better, you’ll have to come have a tea party with the girls and I. We’d love to have you, princess, and you can bring Mr. Grouchy with you.”

From where he was standing, Will could hear the pain and grief leaving her voice and when Dru extended the invitation to come and visit, he swore he could see her smile. Drusilla drifted closer, letting him listen to their next exchange. “You should know, dearie that the girls insist on dressing up for tea, so you’ll need to find a very big hat.”

Her tentative laughter sounded softly and the tension running through his muscles eased. They traded a few more words, but Will hadn’t paid attention, so he was briefly startled when Dru handed him back the phone and waltzed from the room, all the while humming some Disney tune under her breath.

“Hello love.”

“She sounds nice Will.”

He laughed, thinking of all the times she’d nearly killed him, and said “only sometimes, sunshine, the rest of the time she’s a bloody nightmare.”

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

She was running late. Too late. And because she was running late, the entire world was conspiring against her. Buffy had woken up late and been unable to get up right away because the nausea had returned with a vengeance. She’d spent too much time huddled over the toilet both before and after her shower. It had taken almost all her willpower to drag herself downstairs and as she was getting something to drink, Joyce decided that was a good time to start in again about the money.

“Have you thought any more about the Finn’s offer?” Buffy leaned her head against the refrigerator door, exhaustion and defeat flooding her spirit.

“Mom. I really don’t feel good. Can we not do this?”

“Buffy.” Joyce slammed her cup down on the counter, her temper gone. “No. We are not going to do this later. We are going to discuss this now. And you are going to listen to me.”

“Why should I listen to you Mom? You don’t ever wanna listen to me. You don’t give a damn about what I think or what I want. So you know what Mom? I don’t care what you think or want either.” Buffy faced off with her mother, neither woman willing to budge.

“Young lady, you need to change your attitude. You will listen to me and we will contact the Finn’s to accept their offer.” She was wagging a finger in Buffy’s face and her daughter finally snapped. She pushed away her finger, snarling and shaking with anger.

“My attitude? I’m not the one setting down impossible rules and its always do as I say not as I do. God Mom, you are such a bitch!”

Joyce loomed over her, her face inches away from Buffy. “Don’t you speak to me like that. I’m your mother, young lady and you will treat me with respect.”

“Yeah sure, Mom, whatever. I’m going to school.” Buffy started to walk away, when Joyce grabbed her upper arm, swinging her around to face her.

“We are not done her, missy. Don’t you dare walk away.”

Pulling her arm out of Joyce’s bruising grasp, Buffy snapped. She pushed her away, knocking her mother back against the counter and she stood there, gasping and shaking with hurt and anger. “Leave me alone. I can’t stay here and talk about this at all Mom, I have to go pretend to be normal in school.”

Joyce reacted without thinking, pushing herself away from the counter, she raised her hand and slapped her right across the face. “Don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me ever again.”

“Don’t touch me!” Buffy raised her hand to the stinging side of her face and tears slipped from her eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. You’re the one who’s causing all these problems. Why can’t you just be normal like other kids?” Both Summers women were screaming now, and Buffy pushed away from her mother, heading for the back door.

“God, you have no idea how I wish I was normal. But I’m not Mom. I’m seventeen years old and I’m gonna be a mom. I won’t ever be normal.”

“Don’t you dare walk out that door. We are not done here.” Joyce caught Buffy’s shoulder in a tight grip, preventing her from walking out the door. “If you walk out that door now, don’t . . . just don’t you dare walk out that door.”

“Let me go Mom. I have to go to school. I’m already late.” Buffy pulled away from her and without a backward glance she left the house.

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

Buffy was about a half a block away from school when the final bell rang, signaling the start to the school day. She thought about just blowing it off and heading back home, but her mother was probably still there, stewing about the damn money and she couldn’t face that. She had no choice but to go forward. Chances are, Snyder won’t be hanging around and I’ll be able to sneak inside to my first class. Hopefully. With some kind of luck.

But the fates were still conspiring against her, because Snyder was standing at the doors of the school, apparently just waiting for her or any other latecomers so he could get his own cheap thrills out of punishing the students.

The grin covering his troll-like features made his face look like a caricature of some insane alien species that preyed upon human emotions like despair and sadness and Buffy knew her day just went from bad to worse. It wasn’t even worth bantering with him over, because she knew he’d warned her he was going to do this. He was taking far too much delight in her progress up the steps toward him.

Buffy glanced up in time to see Mr. Giles open the door behind Snyder and, at his quick glance in her direction, she had a feeling he was going to try and intervene on her behalf. He started speaking, but Snyder waved him off, saying, “not now, Mr. Giles. I’m about to do something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”

Turning his attention to her, Snyder’s grin got wider, a feat Buffy had previously thought impossible. “Such a good morning, Miss Summers. First day back from vacation and the weather is nice again and, look, you finally decided you’d come to school today. Did our schedule interfere with a previous engagement?”

With a deep breath, she raised her eyes to his, defiance and false bravado swimming in the hazel depths. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was upset about this. She wasn’t going to let this little prick see her cry. “Good morning Mr. Snyder. Wow. I must be really early since no one else is around.”

She wasn’t playing dumb, she was more intent on needling the little monster as a way of getting a bit of her own back.

A sadistic sound pretending to be a laugh emerged from Snyder’s throat. “Oh no, Miss Summers. The truth is you are very late. And apparently you decided to disregard my warnings about being late, so now you give me no choice but to punish you.” His hands were practically rubbing together, the only other outward sign of his intense pleasure over what he was about to say. “Miss Summers, please accompany me to my office so I can suspend you.”

“Do we have to? I mean if you’re going to suspend me, why not just get it over with and do it out here?” Buffy’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Snyder, but he chose to ignore her and the presence of Giles behind him.

“Have to do the paperwork Miss Summers. Besides, you have nothing else to do but sit around. Doesn’t really matter where you do it.”

Ignoring the presence of his Assistant Principal, Snyder turned his back, ushering Buffy inside.

Giles watched them go, wondering when, or even if, Snyder was going to notice the slight bruising on Buffy’s left cheek and arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, that’s that. I have now officially reached bottom. Snyder suspended me because Mom picked this morning to go all Mommie Dearest on me and hey, at least I can go home. Yeah. Right. Home. To face more of the wrath of Ghengis Mom. Maybe I can skip that? Buffy shook her head, refusing to let any evidence of her current emotions surface.

I must have been a real shit in my last life.

Closing the door on Snyder as he was gloating about her suspension, Buffy stilled the childish urge to slam it.

She walked toward the outer offices, intent on getting out of the building as quickly as possible. To add further insult, Snyder had insisted she carry her own suspension orders to the attendance office. She waited patiently while the secretaries were talking. Off in her own little world, Buffy didn’t realize what they were discussing until she heard one of them say, “apparently she’s in his English class.”

“So how did they get caught?” Was the query from the second, slightly older secretary.

“Not sure. I heard two different stories. Someone said they’d gotten a picture of them in his house, but I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s just too easy. The other story is that, well, someone saw them at a truck stop during the Thanksgiving break.”

“So what’s gonna happen?”

“Well, he’s gonna get suspended from his job and he won’t be allowed to teach or have any interaction with students. But I thought I heard they were going to arrest him before school this morning.”

“So he’s an English teacher?”

“Not any more he’s not.”

Oh god. . . . Buffy listened, absolutely horrified by what she was hearing. No. . . oh my god. She dropped her paperwork on the desk and numbly walked away. No . . . no. . . no. . please god. . . not this. Not Will.

Her heart in her throat, and tears streaming unchecked from her eyes, Buffy fled from the school.

Twentieth. Baby please come home

It isn't what they say about you, it's what they whisper.
Errol Flynn

Trying to squash a rumor is like trying to unring a bell.
Shana Alexander

Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated.
Lamartine





She ran.

Oh god. . He’s . . . we got busted. . . oh what the hell. . How could. . . oh my god.

Tears streamed unchecked down her face as she ran further and further away from the school, away from home.

Please god, keep him safe. Please. . . they can’t do this to us. . . . its not fair. Oh. . God its so not fair. . . its not fair.

She tripped, scraping her palms as she braced herself from landing on her belly. Buffy rolled herself into a ball, sobbing so hard she hiccupped. Why us? Why me? Why. . . .

I’m alone. . . . . No one. . . he’s the only one who cares. . . I need him god, please don’t take him away from me. . . please. I’m begging.

Buffy sobbed harder, her heart breaking as she realized she had no one – her mom had practically thrown her out and now Will. . . . Fresh tears broke out and she wrapped her arms around her knees.

Unaware of the passage of time or even where she was, Buffy cried until there were no more tears left. Numb and lost, she finally stumbled to her feet. It was still daylight and she. . . There was something she should do, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Tiredly she headed toward her house, reeling almost drunkenly forward.

Her mother wasn’t there when she climbed in through her bedroom window. Mechanically Buffy gathered up some clothes, grabbing Mr. Gordo and Will’s tee-shirt in the process. Following a sudden impulse, Buffy dumped the contents of her jewelry box into her backpack and with one final look around, she headed back out the window.

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

He was really looking forward to his sixth period class. It was the first time in over a week that they would be in the same place. Will wasn’t sure how he’d react, but he knew he was going to have to try and hide his expression – and his reaction to her proximity – but at least he’d be able to see her.

Every confidence he’d shared with Dru, every word he’d spoken about Buffy had been weighted with pure unvarnished emotion. He wanted Buffy in his life, openly, without any threat, without any hindrances. And he’d been deadly serious when he said he wanted to marry her. Will wanted his ring on her finger, wanted every last bit of her, every part. Didn’t matter that she was carrying someone else’s child. That boy didn’t deserve her – either of them. He was willing to walk out, to throw away the best possible gift he’d ever been given, because of. . . . There was no good enough reason to abandon that girl, especially if she was pregnant.

Riley Finn was the world’s biggest fool.

Although if he really thought about it, Will should really be thanking the boy. If Riley wasn’t such a complete and utter fool, Will wouldn’t be in this position. He wouldn’t be in love with her – at least not this soon.

Now where the bleeding hell did that thought come from? Will thought about Buffy, how he felt about her, how he’d first noticed her and wondered if his love wasn’t an inevitability. If maybe this was all destined somehow, like they’d played out this scenario a hundred thousand different times, in as many places and he always, every single time, fell in love with her.

It had almost been instantaneous. The second he saw her not as a student, but as someone other than just a kid and it was practically that very moment he’d fallen in love.

Almost three months ago, she’d exploded into his world outside of school, bringing light and heat to his increasingly cold world. Buffy was warm and golden, human sunshine, firing him up from within, thawing out the edges of his frozen heart.

Buffy was his hope, his future and Will planned on telling her so very soon. He smiled to himself, thinking about the gift he planned on giving her as soon as it was possible.

The bell rang and his sixth period class slowly filed in, while he forced his mind to more mundane matters. He paced behind his desk, purposely keeping his back to the door, in part to prolong the anticipation and in part to try and control his reaction.

Finally the late bell rang and Will turned around. His eyes went directly to the only empty desk in his classroom.

She wasn’t there.

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

“Will?”

At the sound of his name being called, Will turned around to see his uncle waving him over to where his car was parked. Rupert was clearly agitated, his normally placid features replaced by a set jaw and blazing eyes.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve just spent the better part of an hour beating my head against a brick wall. Fancy having a drink with an old man?” Giles loosened his tie and tossed his briefcase into his back seat.

“Bureaucracy?” At his uncle’s negative motion, Will raised his eyebrow. “So what’s gone so badly that you need a drink at this hour?”

Looking around, Giles said, “get in. We’ll talk on the way.” Giles was quiet for a few moments, then said, “Jenny’s meeting us there.”

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

“He did what?” Will practically shouted in Rupert’s face, while Jenny watched both men’s reactions. “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“God, Will, I truly wish I was.” Giles slammed his empty tumbler down on the bar, motioning the bartender for another.

Will clenched his jaw and his fists, anger written clearly on his features. “Fucking wanker.”

“Indeed.” Giles agreed, shaking his head. “I also had the pleasure of informing the girl’s mother. She didn’t take it very well. She was going to leave her job and go talk to her. She didn’t sound very pleased.”

He was so very tempted to tell Giles just how Joyce was likely to react to this news, but he couldn’t, though the effort cost him much. He never noticed the struggle his uncle was going through, that is until Giles’ next words chilled his blood. “I’ve a question for you Will. How well do you know the girl?”

Will froze, afraid in more than one way how to answer that question, but when Giles continued to speak, he relaxed just a little. “Tried to get Snyder to listen to me, but he wouldn’t. I think someone hit the girl this morning. Do you know if she’s still seeing the baby’s father?”

A red haze settled over his vision and it took a considerable force of will for him not to storm from the bar and head right for Joyce and . . . Will had no idea what he’d do, but it wouldn’t be pretty. “What?” Then with a very visible effort to get his temper under control, he continued speaking. “No. She’s not. . . the boy has someone else. The Kendall girl.”

“I see.” Giles stared off into nothing, trying to reconcile what he’d seen this morning with something that made a tiny bit of sense. Will was clenching and unclenching his fists, frustrated and furious tears seeping from behind closed eyes. A vein pulsed in his neck and he could literally feel his pulse pounding and his blood rushing through his veins. He wanted blood. . . . wanted Snyder to pay for what he’d done, wanted to punish Joyce for what she was doing to her own flesh and blood.

“Are you all right Will?” Jenny had been watching him very closely, much closer than Rupert was and she saw more than just a teacher upset about a favorite student. She saw a man who was possessively angry.

“Yeah. ‘M all right.” He was lying through his teeth, but he didn’t care. Giles wouldn’t notice and he didn’t owe Jenny any explanations. He shook his head when the bartender moved to pour him another shot, intoning, “gotta teach tomorrow. Would love to get good an’ pissed just now, but can’t.”

Jenny sipped her drink, her eyes following their movements, especially Will’s as she tried to figure out what was going on – what was really going on with Buffy Summers. There was a speculative look in her eyes, but Jenny held her tongue as Will refused a ride back to the school and headed for the entrance.

“I’ve never seen him this upset about a student suspension before.” Rupert mused aloud before turning his attention to Jenny.

No, I bet you haven’t. But then I don’t think she’s just any student.

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

He went right to Restfield, looking for her. He knew she had to be there. If she was in trouble she’d head there. He hoped she would.

It was six-thirty when he arrived. Too early for their usual meeting time, but he didn’t care. He’d wait for her.

Will started pacing the perimeter of the cemetery, trying to keep his temper under control while he waited for Buffy to leave her house.

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

Nine-forty now.

Buffy hadn’t shown at all.

Will was really starting to worry. He dialed her cell phone only to get the same message he’d gotten before. She wasn’t answering. The phone went right to voice-mail.

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

“Willow? This is Joyce Summers, Buffy’s mother.”

Willow hesitated before answering, unsure what Buffy’s mom wanted. “Hi. Mrs. Summers. What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you if Buffy,” she paused, then started over again. “Buffy hasn’t come home from school and I wanted to know if you’ve seen her.”

The redheaded teenager blew out a breath. “No I haven’t seen her at all. She wasn’t in school today.”

Joyce was unconvinced that Willow was telling her the truth. Something about the tone of her voice or the way the girl was answering her. She knew something. So either Buffy was there with her or she knew exactly where her daughter was. “Just do me a favor. If you happen to see her, please tell her that I’d like to speak with her.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Summers. If I see her.”

Willow hung up the phone, thoroughly confused. Buffy had called her earlier, leaving a voice mail that said she was home sick and she’d call her later. But here was Buffy’s mom saying that Buffy wasn’t home.

Something wasn’t right.

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

The lights were still on. From his spot behind the big tree in the front yard, Will could just make out one shadow moving around in the living room. The television was on, the blue lights flickering and reflecting against the big picture window behind the sheer curtains. The telephone hadn’t rung and there wasn’t a sign of anyone other than Joyce being home.

Buffy’s room was dark. No lights. No music. No sign of life at all.

Feeling like a complete criminal and an incredibly dirty old man, Will circled around the house. Eyeing the tree growing right beside her window, Will plotted his route up to her bedroom. Scanning the neighborhood for prying eyes, Will grabbed the lowest branch and swung himself up and into the tree. The window opened easily and without any noise, which didn’t surprise him, since he knew damn well she snuck in and out of this window all the time.

The room seemed, at first glance to be undisturbed, but as he looked closer, the more his uneasiness grew. There was something gone, something missing. Carefully he crossed the floor and pulled open one of her dresser drawers. He snickered to himself, aware of the irony of him heading right for the drawer holding her panties. The drawer was half empty and he quickly checked the next drawer down, finding that partially emptied also. Will turned around, looking for more evidence of the suspicion that was swirling around in his head.

She wouldn’t. . . . Yeah. She probably would.

Heading over to her bed, Will searched around for the tee-shirt she said she wore every night. It was nowhere to be found.

She was gone.

Will grabbed some of her things, stuffing them into his pockets, then headed for the window before Joyce heard him moving around.


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

He walked home through Restfield hoping that he’d find some evidence that she’d been there, but there was no sign of her. No sign that she’d been there at all. Their usual spot was quiet and he didn’t think she was hiding in the shadows somewhere waiting for him.

He wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he heard from her.

Once more he flipped open his cell phone scanning quickly to see if she left a voice mail.

No message.

His temper was long gone, though if he came across either Snyder or Joyce, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. He was worried about her.

Altering his steps to take a very long route home, Will started looking for his Buffy.

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

She was cold and tired, but strangely enough, not hungry at all. Her belly was curled up in tight knots and she couldn’t make the pain go away. There was an ache . . . but it was dull, like she’d run too long or walked too far, and she couldn’t shake the fog that was surrounding her.

Her eyes were blurred from prolonged crying and she curled around Mr. Gordo, huddled into the big cement drum in the playground. It was marginally warmer than outside, at least she was blocked from the light wind that was blowing and she was, thankfully alone. Buffy didn’t want to be near anyone, didn’t want to hear false sympathy or yelling voices or angry words from her mother or anyone else. She wrapped her arms tighter around the small stuffy piggy and wiped her tears on Will’s tee-shirt.

Burying her nose into the soft black cotton, Buffy sniffed hard, searching for his scent. Oh Will. . . . fresh tears soaked into the material and Buffy rocked back and forth, trying to comfort herself.

Please be safe. . . . please. . . . let him be safe and not get hurt in jail. And please, let him get out of jail . . . . if one of us needs to . . . let him be safe.

Buffy closed her eyes, praying silently for him, hoping that he was okay.

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

It was long past midnight when he finally gave in for the night, in fact it was nearly two-thirty in the morning. He’d been out, searching everywhere he could think of, hoping for signs of her, to no avail.

Restfield was empty. Well, of all living things, anyway.

Sunny Rest Cemetery was also devoid of the living.

No one was hanging around underneath the bleachers at the highschool field.

He’d chased a couple from behind the junior highschool, sending them home, but there was no sign of Buffy.

She wasn’t near any of the elementary schools either.

He’d called her cell phone every hour, hoping that she would answer, but every single time the voice-mail picked up.

Will trudged into his back door, the two dogs trailing behind him, completely dejected. He had no idea where else she might be, but he’d gone past her house twice more, and the last time Joyce had been in bed. If he knew where Willow or Xander or any of her other friends lived, he’d have swung past, in the hopes that she was safe and sound with one of them, but he hadn’t thought of that, at least not until this moment.

He switched on his computer, surfed quickly for addresses, then snagged his keys and headed out one more time.

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

It was three-forty in the morning when he went passed the Rosenberg’s residence and as he had figured, all their lights were out .

There were lights on at Harris’ and he could hear the television, so Will decided to park the car and take a look around. Some guy was asleep in a recliner, beer bottles lined up on the floor next to him, and Will could only assume it was Xander’s father. No one else was awake, although there was a light on in the basement. He knelt down to get a closer look and saw Xander sleeping on a pull-out couch and it was very obvious he was alone.

So Buffy wasn’t there.

He was at a loss. He had no idea where else she might be. Oh god, sweetheart, where the fuck are you? Don’t you know I’m worried about you? Please god, keep her safe until I can find her. . . .

Please baby, please come home. . .

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