Chapter 6:

About six weeks had passed since Buffy and William had purchased the desk on that fateful morning, and the pages of the journal were indeed filling. Since the two had written so much to each other every day, the journal was quickly nearing the halfway mark. There was a slight twinge of fear in the back of Buffy's mind that once this journal was filled, they wouldn’t be able to write each other any longer. Nevertheless, she kept those negative thoughts in the back of her mind and continued onward.

Over the course of those first few days, the two had concentrated on learning more about each other. They wrote about what foods they did and did not like, about the different fashion styles in their time, what was popular and what wasn't, and more.

As she had suggested over their first weekend of correspondences, Buffy usually had a topic for each entry. She would explain something to William that was unique for the twenty-first century, and his responses would be filled with delight, wonder, and, of course, follow up questions. Buffy had realized that she was also learning because she would have to research some of his questions on the Internet to give him an answer.

William had first been taught - to the best of Buffy's ability to explain it, that is, about music of the 21st century. She touched on everything from modern jazz and experimental music, to punk and pop. Buffy first learned how women were expected to act in the 1882, and she quickly discovered that she much preferred present day living.

Throughout the beginning of their correspondences, both Buffy and William had kept things fairly general in their questions and explanations. At first, both were a little bit nervous to make it any more personal.

However, beginning sometime in the second week of October, the two had begun to speak of things outside of their general questions. Buffy would mention her ups and downs in her day at work; William would explain his failure at the latest party or give an update on his mother's health. Slowly, but surely, while continuing their informative entries, they began progressing towards a more personal level. The two realized that it was possible to tell one another any, and every thing.

To help William better understand the things she was explaining, Buffy had often sketched whatever she was writing about. She drew a rough drawing of a busy city placed into first-point perspective. She drew a laptop and a desktop computer, pointing out what a mouse and keyboard were as well. She sketched her cell phone, a cordless phone, and even a scientific perspective street with telephone poles on both sides. Whatever modern day convenience she picked to discuss, Buffy always tried to include an image in the margin or the following page.

Although her drawings were often only quick, simple sketches, especially the computer ones, William delighted in being able to see what she was writing about. Buffy's sketches really brought the objects to life. Even after Buffy had drawn many different things, William's favorite was still her drawing of the city buildings, which appeared to almost be popping out at him. He had never seen such a thing, and the idea of a building being so tall enchanted him.

All in all, it had become a safe haven for both of them - a place where Buffy could get away from her memories of Warren and living what was often a stressful life supporting her and her sister, and where William was able to escape his everyday life and the worries that came with it.

Buffy shook her head, breaking away from memories to think of the present. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and continued writing.

~~~

~~~

Buffy arrived at her studio at 12:15, fifteen minutes later than she should have been. She rushed in with a fluster, apologetic words immediately pouring out from her mouth once she stepped through the doorway.

"I am just so sorry, Willow," Buffy apologized for the third time as she set her tote bag down on the floor beside her desk. "I'm sorry I canceled this morning on our garage and yard sale marathon. And then I...I just got distracted and...lost track of time."

Truth was, Buffy had begun to cancel her outings with Willow Saturday morning so she would have time to write to William. She canceled for the first time three weeks ago, and had yet to go on a morning outing with her best friend since then. Yes, Buffy felt horribly guilty that she was ruining her friend's plans, but her desire to write to William kept those feelings of guilt at bay.

A couple of times, she wound up becoming so wrapped up in whatever she was writing, trying to explain something so vividly so William would be able to understand it, that she lost complete track of time. Even though her entry wasn't unusually long this morning, Buffy found herself sitting in the seat and staring out through her bedroom window, wondering what he would look like in person. Before she knew it, her clock said 11:30 and Buffy had barely begun to get ready for work.

"It's okay, Buffy, really," Willow spoke, pulling Buffy away from her thoughts. "Just...let's not make an everyday habit of it, alright?"

"Thanks so much Will, you're a lifesaver," Buffy admitted.

"No problem. However," Willow began, a sly smile on her features. "I think that you being late and skipping out of our morning shop-a-thon for the third weekend in a row deserves an explanation."

Buffy's eyes widened and she stared back at her friend in shock. "Explanation? What explanation? There is no explanation."

The day after she and Dawn met up with Xander and Anya at the Bronze, Buffy had made Anya swear - upon penalty of not allowing her to work the cash register anymore, no less, to not tell anyone that she had a pen pal. Anya promised, of course, and surprisingly had been able to keep said promise.

It wasn't that Buffy didn't want Willow to know about William. After all, if anyone should know about something like this, it should have been her best girl friend, the person she told everything to. However, Buffy had a strong feeling that Willow would overanalyze her situation and either freak out that Buffy was falling into another destructive relationship or play matchmaker and try to make William into her next boyfriend.

Buffy just didn't want that to happen. For once, she wanted her conversations with William to be something just for her. Something only she knew about. And for over a month, she had been able to get away with it.

Today, however, looked like it would be the end of that.

"For you being late. You've never been late to work as long as I've known you." Willow thought back to the days where Buffy had been dating Warren. Buffy would sometimes call in sick, but Willow knew that it was just to hide the fresh bruise from Warren's hand. Willow cleared her throat and quickly corrected herself. "Well, I mean, you would either be here or you wouldn't. And you'd call...but when you were here, you were here on time. Usually early."

Buffy shrugged. "I'm sorry about being late, but it's not like it is really busy right when we open, or anything. We're lucky to have a client walk in before one o'clock."

"Buffy, it's not so much the being fifteen minutes late part as the canceling our Saturday shopping trips," Willow said. "I mean, I thought we were having a good time, and then-"

"I have a pen pal," Buffy blurted out. Good job there, Summers, she told herself with a silent groan.

Willow stifled a laugh. "What, are we twelve now?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, it's not like that, it's not some kiddie, stupid writing. His name is William and he lives in London."

Willow's smile slipped from her face to be replaced with one of concern as she looked at her friend's honest expression. "And how long have you two been writing?"

"A month...well, a little over a month actually," Buffy explained. She sat down in her chair and looked up at Willow. "He's a great guy, Willow. Perfect gentleman, and really nice, honestly."

"But that's what you thought about Warren at first too," Willow pointed out.

"Well, thanks a lot for your confidence," Buffy muttered, lowering her eyes at the mention of her ex-boyfriend.

"Look, I'm just trying to look out for your best interests," she explained. "I don't want to see you hurt again, Buffy." It hasn't even been six months since Warren, Willow thought with a frown on her face. She was worried that it was too soon for her friend to be so open to moving on, even if Buffy might think otherwise.

"I know. And I appreciate it. I do," Buffy softly replied. "I...just...Look, nothing is ever going to happen between us. We're never going to meet up or anything like that." Because we can't, she added silently. It's impossible. If it were possible, however, Buffy would love to meet William. Nevertheless, the barrier of time separated them by over a century, and would continue to do so.

"What does William do?" Willow asked.

"He's a writer," Buffy explained, giving the same story that she gave Xander, Anya, and Dawn. "But he's been taking care of his mother a lot recently because she's sick."

"Well, tell him I say 'hi' in your next letter," Willow suggested.

"Will do, Will."

Willow grabbed a stack of papers that needed to be filed in the back room. "But Buffy? If there are any signs that he's...well, another Warren, please end it before you get hurt again."

Buffy nodded, "I will."

~~~

Several minutes after Willow left the front room, Buffy wandered back into her studio, taking out a blank 48"x32" canvas and placed it on her stand. She sat on the stool in front of it. All of her materials - paint, brushes of all sizes and types, sponges, water, were set out to her right.

Buffy thought back to her last few conversations with William, remembering that she had mentioned she was going to try portraits again. Well, since she didn't have any subjects to model, with the exception of Willow, she decided to simply play around with her paints and see what came to her mind. Of course, the first thing that came to mind was William. Buffy thought back to how he had described himself. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Glasses. Slender build. High cheekbones.

"Let's see what I can come up with." Buffy whispered to herself.

She took a pencil and lightly drew out a quick sketch of a man's body from the shoulders up. She began adding rough details - eyes, a nose, a mouth, quick wisps of the pencil to place the hair, and so on.

Picking up a paintbrush, Buffy closed her eyes, thinking of the image she always thought of when she imagined William - sweet, charming, and kind. "Perfect gentleman," were the words she had told Willow, and he absolutely was.

Buffy worked in silence, her hand moving the paintbrush over the canvas quickly and confidently. She would pause to mix colors or open a new tube of paint to add to her palette, but continued working with a newfound speed that even she was somewhat surprised in. Willow came in a couple times, and even called out her name, but Buffy was concentrating so deeply that she wasn't even bothered and didn't even look up.

Almost four hours later, Buffy walked out into the main room with a large smile on her face. "Willow, come look!"

Willow stood, asking, "So I get to see what you've been working on all day?"

"Yep, all done!" Buffy explained, "I think that pesky artists' block is completely gone."

The two women walked into the studio and Willow gasped at what she saw. Looking back at her was a portrait of one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen. Sure, she wasn't interested in men anymore, but she could still recognize a handsome man when she saw him, and this was it. His hair was a bit long for her liking, with curls falling down in his face, but his eyes...

The man's eyes were bright, icy blue - as if they could pierce your soul and heart just by looking at them. His cheekbones were high, making his face appear slim and his features look even sharper. Below his face, the man wore a suit and tie, and then the canvas ended below his shoulders.

"Buffy, this is amazing," Willow whispered. "He's so...who is this?"

Buffy blushed. "No one. Well," she began to correct, "This is what I imagine William looking like when we write to one another."

Willow shook her head in disbelief. "I may be gay now, but I still know guys. No one is that gorgeous," she said. "How did you get that shade of blue for his eyes?"

"Well...a lot of mixing with whites, blues, and greens," Buffy explained. "It's weird, I tried to get that shade after I finished the painting, but...I just can't figure out how I did it. It just didn't look right anymore."

"Well, it's okay. If you were going to get that shade of blue only once, then this was the time to do it." Willow whistled, "This one is going to sell before the weekend is over."

The blonde shook her head. "No, this one I'm not going to sell. I...I just can't bring myself to sell this one."

"Man, if William looked half this good, and I weren't recently gay, of course, I'd consider myself a lucky girl," Willow teased.

The phone rang and Willow excused herself to go answer it.

Buffy took several more seconds to gaze at her portrait. Yes, if William were even a fraction as beautiful as this...I would be very attracted to him, she thought.

But then again, some part of her subconscious was telling her that she already was. Through his words, his explanations, and his kind and gentle nature, a feeling deep within her heart had begun to flutter, something she had not felt in a long time. Buffy tried to push it away, but every time she opened the journal, every time she saw a new entry, the feeling came back. And each time the feeling was stronger than before.

Buffy realized that whenever she thought about William she would silently be counting down the hours until she could get back home and read his newest entry. Out of her entire day, her private time with William was what she treasured most. A smile spread across her face, noticing that she had been doing that a lot recently.

And it's because of you, she thought, as she looked at the painting.

~~~

Buffy woke the next morning with unexpected contrasting feelings in her gut. On one hand, she was very relaxed and eager to get through her morning. After all, she knew that a message from William would be waiting for her when she got home that evening. However, for the first time she felt something other than peace - anxiety and worry. Even slight fear.

Buffy pushed those negative feelings aside and walked over to her desk, pulling out the journal. There wasn't an entry from William yet, and Buffy suspected that he was with his mother and sister, wanting to spend as much time all together as he could.

Even though he hadn't read or responded to her last entry yet, Buffy decided to add something on the next page.

Buffy closed the journal and the desk drawer before she could regret and question herself about adding "yours" to the end of her writing. Before, she had always signed it "sincerely," "until next time," or "take care." This closing was new, and a bit more affectionate than she had ever written.

"Too late now," she whispered.

She rose from the chair to get ready to head into work, still feeling uneasy...as if something was wrong. She pushed those apprehensions away, telling herself that nothing could go wrong. Her paintings were going well and she was eager to start that new series. But even more importantly, William would write to her later this afternoon, and she would see it when she got back home after work. Buffy told herself that nothing could ruin her day now.

Oh, if only she had known...

Thank you all for the wonderful feedback over the last week! I really appreciate everyone leaving their thoughts, comments, and questions and am still catching up on leaving replies. :) Thanks again!

Chapter 8:

William sat down the next morning, wondering what his beautiful girl would talk about today. Although he had never seen Buffy face to face, and knew he never would, William felt for certain that she would be beautiful. Her words, her outlook on life, the way she would carelessly doodle in the margins of the journal from time to time - all of these things made her beautiful to William.

He opened their journal, flipping to where her entry should be. He noticed that it was several pages long, which pleased him to no end. He felt a surge of happiness, devotion, and a feeling of something deeper and more like love in his chest whenever there was a lengthy message from Buffy.

However, when he read the first sentence of her entry, his smile vanished. The more he read, the more upset he became. By the end of her writing, William was positively irate. Not at Buffy, of course, but at this evil man who could do something so monstrous to a young, vibrant woman.

How could anyone do such a thing to a woman, especially someone like Buffy? William asked himself. Even in his time, William was aware of these happenings. He had heard the rumors discussed at parties or other people passing by in town. But how on Earth could anyone do something like that to Buffy?

His anger increased as he looked down and saw splatters where the ink had blurred.

"Tears," William whispered. That bastard had upset her to the point of tears. It was more than he could handle, and he felt rage within him like never before. This was Buffy...what could possess a man to do such evils as that?

William knew that he had to respond immediately. More than ever, he wished that it was possible to give his condolences and support in person rather than just through meaningless words.

William put down his pen and ran his hand through his hair. Tears were threatening to fall by the time he finished his writing. His anger had subsided as he had written, but the remnants still lingered. Any man who dare to raise a hand against Buffy was just a criminal! William had been raised in a loving household, and would never treat a woman in the way that Warren had. Why, if he were able to court Buffy...

"Who are you kidding," William whispered, as he closed the journal and thought back to her entry. "Why would a girl as independent and beautiful as that choose a foppish, naive man such as myself?"

Oh, but only if she would.

If only she could.

With all of his being, William wished that he could see the face of the woman whose words had completely captivated him. If it was possible to see her, to talk to her, and spend just one moment with her...well, it would not be enough, William was sure of that. But that one minute together was one minute they would never have. However, thanks to his correspondences with Buffy and realizing how real she was, none of these women in London interested him any longer. He knew that they were mostly vapid and superficial, and not worth his time.

But not Buffy. Never Buffy.

Her soul spoke through these pages in their journal, which was why it tore William apart to see the splotches where her tears had fallen. He felt the pain of her heart breaking as she wrote those words on paper and as she worried that William would reject her. Instead, it only made him even more proud of her - that she had managed to escape an abusive relationship and, although she was not fully healed, she was obviously trying to move on.

If only I could be there in person to comfort her, William thought with regret. He wished that it was possible for him to be there in person to help her cope and move on.

His door unexpectedly opened and Emily-Grace walked into his room dressed in a light blue dress with her hair pulled back away from her face. "Good morning, brother," she greeted him.

"And a good morning to you, Emmy."

"Mother says that breakfast is ready if you are ready to join us," Emily-Grace explained.

William nodded. "Certainly." He took one more look at the journal, sending out a silent prayer that Buffy would make it through the next few days with little stress, before placing it in the bottom desk drawer.

"Why are you always up here writing?" Emily-Grace asked.

"I write no more than you do, Emmy," William retorted.

"No, you are up here writing in the morning or afternoon every day," Emily-Grace argued. "Mother says that is why you occasionally skip breakfast. You would rather be up here writing."

William nodded. "Yes...well, the truth is, is that I...I am writing to a friend," he spoke slowly, deciding to finally inform Emily-Grace what he was really doing every day.

Emily-Grace's eyes widened. "Really? Who?"

"She is just a good friend. She lives in the States," William explained, remembering how Buffy had explained the way she informed her friends of him. He hoped that Emily-Grace would not ask too many questions.

"A woman?" Emily-Grace asked, here eyes growing even wider.

"Yes, and before you go jumping to any conclusions, she has recently escaped from an abusive relationship," William explained, forcing himself to remain calm and emotionless when thinking of Warren. "We are strictly friends, and nothing more."

Is there really nothing more? a voice in his head asked. You would like more.

"That is awful," Emily-Grace said. "Is she alright?"

"Honestly, that is very doubtful from what she has informed me. However, I do believe that she is on her way there," William explained in a way so his younger sister could easily understand.

"William?"

"Yes?"

"Do you love this woman?" Emily-Grace asked softly.

William thought about it for a few seconds - how much did he want to risk? How much did he want to say to his younger sister? Saying it aloud would make it real.

"Yes," he firmly stated. "With all my heart."

Emily-Grace smiled and wrapped her arms around her brother. "That's just so romantic," she sighed. "And how you two are separated by water, even more romantic."

Separated by time appears to be the bigger issue, William dryly thought.

"What is her name?"

"Bu - Elizabeth," William stated, knowing that it would be best to give her formal name since "Buffy" was clearly not from their era. "Elizabeth Anne Summers."

Emily-Grace "ooh"ed. "That is such a beautiful name," she remarked. "Has she sent you a photograph?"

"No, she has not." Come to think of it, the two of them had never even thought of trying to see if adding things other than the journal would travel through time correctly. "All I have is her physical description."

"Which is what?"

"She has long blonde hair, hazel eyes, and is about your height. She also has a younger sister who is eighteen," William explained. "Miss Summers is an artist, and a highly admired and prized painter."

"William, I am so happy for you," Emily-Grace said. "This woman sounds much better than Cecily Addams."

William chuckled. Cecily was gone from his mind - and heart - forever, having been replaced by a blonde in Sunnydale, California, year 2004. No, he would not be thinking about Cecily Abrams any time soon.

"I quite agree with you, Emmy." His smiled lessened a bit when he spoke, "However, I doubt we will ever meet."

"Why not? I mean, ships are much safer today than they were a hundred years ago," Emily-Grace argued. "If you love her, you shouldn't let anything stop you."

"If only it were that simple." William smiled and shook his head, amazed at his sister's naiveté towards love and relationships. "Come now. You said that breakfast was ready?"

"Yes. I did."

"Then lead the way, my dear sister," William said. He turned to look back at his desk as they left his room, hoping that Buffy would find his reply and answer before the day was over.

As he entered the dining room, he saw that Anne was already seated. Emily-Grace took the seat to her right, so William decided to sit across from the two.

"Good morning, Mother," he greeting, slightly bending down to place a kiss on her cheek as he passed her chair. He gently squeezed her shoulders before walking around the table to his seat.

"William," she replied warmly. "I trust you rested well last night?"

"Yes, Mother." William took his seat and smiled at her.

"Good. I thought that we might spend the day together," Anne suggested. "Do you think you might indulge us in some of your newest poetry that you have been working on?"

"Oh, William isn't-"

"I am not quite satisfied with what I have come up with," William interrupted, cutting off his sister's words. He looked at her, trying to silently tell her to not inform Mother of his conversations with Buffy. "I would like to keep my poems private from everyone until I feel they are to my liking."

Emily-Grace glared at him for a beat, clearly wanting to let his secret out and inform their mother.

Several minutes later, their cook and maid came out with their breakfast, which consisted of ham and cheese, eggs, brioche, and croissants. The two women set the plates down on the table before walking back to the kitchen where one returned a second later with a pitcher of juice.

The family passed each plate around before setting it back in its original place, each selecting how much of whatever they wanted. As Emily-Grace cut into her ham, she announced, "William is actually corresponding with a friend in America."

William dropped his fork out of surprise, his eyes looking at his sister in a mix of anger and surprise while she innocently smiled back at him. He then turned to look at his mother.

Anne wore an amused expression on her face, somewhat surprised that William had let his younger sister in on his secret. She was somewhat less surprised that Emily-Grace had spoken up so quickly. "Oh really?"

"Yes, Mother. She lives in the states, and her name is Elizabeth Summers."

"She?" Anne's left eyebrow rose even higher in surprise and curiosity.

"Emmy, I think that is quite enough," William said, hoping that she wouldn't say anything else.

"Tell me about her William," his mother requested.

It appeared as though the damage had already been done. William set his knife down and looked back up. "Emily-Grace is right. I am in fact writing to a woman who lives in America. Her name is Miss Elizabeth Summers, and she is an absolutely wonderful young woman."

"How long have you been writing to Miss Summers?" Anne asked before taking a sip of her juice.

"Since the beginning of September, Mother," William answered. "As I was telling Emily-Grace, Bu - Miss Summers is a very successful and talented painter."

"She paints? That cannot be a very secure means of income," Anne remarked.

"From what Miss Summers has told me, she is often employed to paint portraits, landscapes, and so on," William explained, hoping that his mother wouldn't see Buffy as a loose woman.

"I see."

"She also has a younger sister who is eighteen. Her name is Miss Dawn Summers."

"And their parents?" Anne asked, before covering her mouth with her napkin to cough loudly.

"They are dead," William replied. Although their father was still alive, he knew not to mention that he had left them when Buffy was younger. His mother would simply not understand that divorce was so common in 2004. William did still not fully understand how men could simply abandon their wives and children.

"Oh, those poor girls," she said, the worry evident on her face.

"I am almost Dawn's age," Emily-Grace announced. "Perhaps I could write to her as well?"

William hesitated, unable to agree with her request for the obvious reason why, and also unable to decline without giving any reason why. "Well, I shall ask Miss Summers if that is agreeable with her. After all, the post is very expensive and does take very long to travel overseas."

"I do hope she says yes," Emily-Grace said. "I think it would be very interesting to learn of what life is like in the States. Is it very different from life here, William?"

William fought the urge not to chuckle. Yes, life for Buffy was indeed quite different from theirs. "All in all, I find that our lives are not so different after all," he answered.

"How do you feel about this woman, William?" Anne asked. Emily-Grace looked at him, wondering if he would answer the same way he had when they were together in his room several minutes ago.

"I - I have deep affection for Miss Summers, I will not deny it, Mother," William eventually spoke. "Although we only write to each other, I feel a very close bond with her."

"Isn't it romantic, Mother?" Emily-Grace asked. "I just think it is so lovely."

William blushed and tried to chance the topic and end this conversation. "Nevertheless, she lives in America and I, here, in London. She has her own responsibilities taking care of her sister, and I am here with you two. We have agreed to keep out relationship strictly through words and nothing more."

Anne looked at her son, noticing how his entire face lit up while he had talked about Elizabeth Summers. Whoever this woman was, she must have made an impact on him indeed. The last time he had looked this happy in regards to a woman was...well, Anne could honestly not think of a time when had looked so happy. Although he’d had affections for Cecily two years ago, he had never appeared so jubuilant when discussing her.

Could it possibly be that her son had finally found a young lady whom he might be content with? After all, that was all Anne had ever wanted for him. Her one dream was for William to be happy in whatever choices he made in his life, as with Emily-Grace.

Anne reached across the table to take her son's hand. She squeezed it tightly in reassurance. "William, although I admit to having concerns that something similar to what happened with Cecily might occur again, I am delighted to hear that you are writing to someone who sounds so charming."

"Thank you, Mother," he said, grateful that she had not said anything negative about Buffy. In fact, she almost seemed pleased that he was writing to her.

Anne and Emily-Grace asked a few more questions about Buffy, all of which William tried to answer the best he could. It was very hard to not give away anything that might make her sound like a loose woman of their time, or place her in a negative light. However, eventually their questions ended and the three went back to eating their breakfast.

~~~

After they finished their meal, William rose to return to his room. He needed to check the journal to see if Buffy had written anything in reply yet. After her emotional writing last night, he felt an intense need to keep a close eye on their journal for new entries. William would do his best to calm and reassure her through his words, no matter how good or bad they might be.

He turned to go up the staircase when he felt a hand grip his arm and stop his movement.

"Mother," he greeted when he turned around to see her. "Was there something you needed?"

"William, I did not want to say this while your sister was present at the table this morning," Anne started, clearing her throat in hopes that her coughing would cease. "But...but I will not be here forever. In fact, it is safe to say that I will not be here much longer."

"Do not say things like that, Mother," William pleaded, taking her hand off his arm and in between his hands. He could not bear the thought of living without his mother, and refused to think on it until he was forced to do so.

"We both know what the doctors have been saying," she whispered sadly, softly coughing. "Nothing can be done for it."

"Mother, please."

"Your father and I have raised both you and Emily-Grace into incredibly, honest, and fair people," Anne said. "And I...we, want nothing more than for both of you to be happy."

"I know, Mother," William stated. Both he and Emily-Grace had been raised in a slightly more liberal way of thinking than many of their contemporaries. He was thankful that he had gained a more balanced view of the world through the example his parents had set.

"I just want you to be happy, William," Anne said, tears welling in her eyes.

"I am happy. Emily-Grace and you continually make me happy."

"And yet, when you spoke of Miss Elizabeth Summers at the breakfast table not twenty minutes ago, I saw your eyes light up like never before."

"Mother, I..."

She smiled. "See? Even you cannot deny it." Anne placed her palm against his cheek, looking up into eyes that reminded her so of his father. "William, if this woman is the one, if she is the one that makes you happy..."

"Mother, as much as it pleases me to hear you say this, I could not possibly leave you and Emily-Grace," William said. He couldn't leave at all, seeing as how Buffy didn't really exist in his time.

"I knew you were going to say that," Anne responded, pausing to cough into her hankerchief once again. "However, William, all I ask is that you think upon it. One day, after I am gone and Emily-Grace is married, you do not want to find yourself alone with no one to turn to. If Miss Summers is worth the fight, then so be it."

William did not know what to say. His mother had all but directly given her blessing to court Buffy. Oh, if only it was possible, he thought. I would cross the ocean again and again if it meant I would end up near her. "Thank you, Mother," he replied. "I will think upon what you have said. However, I do not expect to take action any time soon, not while I still have you and Emmy to care for."

Anne gently kissed his cheek before stepping away from him. "No, thank you, my dear William. I've never been so proud to have you as my son."

~~~

Buffy read the last paragraph that William had written four times, tears filling her eyes and finally spilling over as she read his reply for the final time.

"Oh William," she sobbed. "You say that you are no man of words, and yet you can always know the perfect thing to say to me."

She had read his entry for the first time before she went to work that morning, and it had moved her to tears then as well. Now, hours later, his words were still making an impact on her emotionally.

"If only you could just tell me this in person," Buffy whispered. "If only you could be here to hold me, to just give me strength from your simply being here."

But, of course, that was impossible.

That was something Buffy was forced to remind herself every other day - having William in her life was simply not possible. More than one hundred years separated them, and there was nothing they could do to change that.

Over the course of the past several months, Buffy had begun to slowly open her heart to him. William’s innocence and his naive and eager look at the world through her eyes and explanations were refreshing. She marveled at how he lived each and every day like it was a gift, how he treasured every moment with his family, and most importantly, how he dedicated himself to being a good man, with no pride or ego - just a loving, caring man.

She didn't want to analyze her feelings too much, or even utter them aloud. Saying the words out loud or thinking on it too much would make it real, and there was no way to go back after an unconscious possibility became reality. However, Buffy was caving in to his unconscious charms and personality.

And Buffy knew that sometime between their first correspondence in September and today's latest entry, she had begun to fall in love with him. She was still afraid to fully give her heart to another man, and of course a relationship of any kind with William was impossible, but she could not help her feelings. And all of her feelings were telling her that William was the one.

William had showed her that there truly were some good men in the world. He had proven that not every man was like Warren and her loveless boyfriends back in high school and college. No, men who cared and loved with all of their soul really did exist.

It just figured they were all living in 1882!

TBC...

Chapter 9:

Christmas was quickly approaching, and although the weather remained around a warm 70 degrees, the Christmas spirit was definitely in the air. Buffy was thankful for having the distraction of shopping and preparing for the holiday, as it kept her mind away from Warren and William. With December 25th just over two weeks away, Buffy knew that she would have to brave the overcrowded malls to find gifts for her friends and family.

Buffy rushed home that evening with several shopping bags in both of her hands, eager to get inside and see if a new entry from William awaited her.

Although her main intention had been to shop for others tonight, she had managed to get slightly off track and shop for herself as well. She splurged and purchased some new clothes for herself, including a new nightgown, a couple of sweaters, and lingerie. A girl can never have too much of that stuff, she had thought when she purchased them. Buffy figured that she deserved to spend a little bit on herself after her last series had sold so quickly.

After her run-in with Warren that day, Buffy had taken a few days off from work to pull herself together. During those days, she had turned to William and the two wrote sometimes twice a day, before she had returned to work as a somewhat back-to-normal-Buffy. She smiled, laughed, and joked, but kept an eye out for Warren the entire time, worried that he would show up at the worst time possible, like he always did.

Now, with everything that was going on and Christmas being exactly fifteen days from now, Buffy had many things to keep her occupied. Most importantly, Dawn would be home in one more week. Buffy could hardly wait to have her home for four entire weeks.

The gallery was also doing better than ever, which kept Buffy quite busy at work these days. Her last series of portraits had sold out over the last couple weeks of November. Buffy had immediately begun a new series. While she worked, she had kept everything a secret from her clients and friends, Willow as the sole exception. Her friend had happened to walk into the studio while Buffy was in the middle of painting.

Picking out the house key from her key-chain, Buffy shifted all of her bags into one hand as she unlocked the door. Once inside, she dropped all the bags to the floor, closed and locked the door behind her, and turned to walk down the hallway.

"I hope he got a chance to write back," Buffy prayed as she sat down in front of her desk.

A second later, her prayers were answered.

Buffy sighed and leaned back into her chair, his words washing over her and calming her frazzled nerves instantly.

She loved how William tried to use the slang words and phrases that she used in her own entries. That change was all because of her and Buffy took joy in seeing how much more relaxed and informal he was now when compared to his first few messages.

Everything he wrote made her smile or laugh, as she tried to picture what he wrote about. Now that Christmas was approaching, she was learning so much about how families celebrated the holiday in 1882. The way William explained things, it sounded as if the three of them would have a wonderful Christmas together.

However, Buffy couldn't help but worry for their mother, especially with the holiday approaching. Unfortunately, she too shared William's suspicions that this might be the last holiday the three shared. Buffy had researched consumption, or TB as it was now known in 2004, on the Internet and discovered that there was next to nothing that could be done the cure it in 1882 since doctors lacked the necessary medicines and techniques to cure this disease. Buffy had been continuously praying that Anne would recover, however, for she feared that her death would absolutely tear William and Emily-Grace apart.

She, too, wished that she could give something to William for the holiday. After all, he had helped her get through so much with Warren a month ago. His words and strength had helped her keep moving day after day, and she found that she had nothing to give to him in return. For several minutes while she had been walking around the mall earlier that evening, Buffy couldn't help but look at something and ask herself, would William like this? While she had been shopping for herself, she looked at several different sweaters and skirts and wondered, would William like me in this?

Yeah, as Dawn would say, she had it bad. Very bad.

But what else could she do but keep writing? At the rate they had been writing, one of them would have to purchase a new journal before the year was out. In her last entry, Buffy had suggested that William go back to the bookstore again and look for a journal identical to he one they wrote in. At the same time, she would stop in at Barnes and Noble to look at the journals they sold just in case he was unsuccessful.

She had finally decided on a dark brown leather journal with a brown ribbon bookmark attached inside as well as a place to hold a pen on the back cover. She decided that she would surprise him with this Christmas morning, and she would include a pen as well. She couldn't wait to see what William thought of ballpoint pens for the first time. Buffy just hoped that the new journal and ink pen would cross through time and arrive in 1882 successfully.

"Never thought I would be thinking that," Buffy said to herself. It was amazing how quickly things could change. Just over three months ago, the idea of time travel had seemed impossible and ridiculous; now, she wasn't sure if she would be able to get through the day without reading an entry from William.

Buffy looked down and noticed that William had written a new ending line. My heart.

"My heart," Buffy whispered, feeling a warm sensation run through her at the thought of meaning so much to him.

Ever since an entry that William had written back in mid-November, Buffy had suspected that his feelings had progressed past the point of mere friendship. With each entry, he found some small way of showing how much he truly cared for her. Usually, it was a small compliment slipped in his writing; however, this time, it was his new farewell.

Buffy, on the other hand, wasn't brave enough to write how she felt about him in words. Although she harbored feelings for William deep in her heart, that is where they remained. She didn't have the courage to express them on paper. Even though the logical part of her mind told herself it was ridiculous to think so, another part of her was filled with a slight twinge of fear that she would be rejected, laughed at, or ignored - something else she had Warren to thank for. Buffy just wasn't willing to take the risk since she knew, and Buffy knew that she couldn't handle rejection coming from William.

Buffy closed the journal and placed it back like normal. She then stood and went to unpack what she had bought for herself, and she took the bags that were for her friends and placed them in her closet.

The more she thought about it, the more she desperately wanted to give William a present for Christmas. Something, anything, would be better than giving him nothing, after all. It just didn't seem right to not give him something for Christmas after everything he had said in their journal to help her get through Warren and her tough days.

Maybe I'll think of something, she thought. After all, Christmas was still two weeks away; she had plenty of time. I’ll sleep on it and think about it tomorrow when my mind is fresh.

~~~

Buffy woke up the next morning feeling relaxed and content. Sunday was Buffy's favorite day of the week because she could sleep in as late as she wanted to, and she didn't have to go into work or stress over her new series for an entire day.

She had dreamed of William again last night. They had been lying together on the couch, simply being, and Buffy could distinctly remember seeing a framed photo of the two of them placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa. As she stretched and sat up in bed, Buffy knew what she could give William for Christmas. That was, as long as it worked.

Buffy rose from her bed and walked over to the full-length mirror and pulled off a photo from its frame. It was a photograph of herself that Xander had taken a few weeks ago when the five of them had gone to the town's small Thanksgiving parade. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold morning air. She was wearing a fairly heavy jacket, and her hair was blowing around behind her from the wind, but it was the most recent photograph she had of herself, and it was decent enough that she didn't mind William seeing it.

Buffy sat down at her desk and opened up the journal, seeing the entry she wrote last night and nothing else after that.

"William must be pretty busy," Buffy murmured, grabbing a pen. From what he had written last night and in his previous entries, it sounded like his family would be spending all of their time getting ready for Christmas day.

Buffy tucked the photo of herself behind the page she had just written, wanting to surprise William when he turned the page. She hoped that it would work and wondered why she hadn't thought of this months ago when they were trying to picture what the other looked like. Her main reasoning for not trying to send objects through the journal until now was that she simply thought that it wouldn't work. Buffy thought that the objects might not travel through correctly, but she was even more afraid of screwing up the magic that allowed them to write to each other. Buffy would rather never know what William looked like and be able to keep writing to him than send an object through once and destroy their link across time.

She was about to close the journal when she suddenly realized that there was more she wanted to say, and something she wanted to ask as well. Turning to the page to where she had placed her image, Buffy continued to write before closing the journal and placing it back into the desk.

"I hope that works," she muttered, sweeping her hair out of her eyes before standing up to get ready for the day.

~~~

TBC...

Thank you all for the great feedback on the last chapter! Sorry for the shortness of this one - this and the next chapter were originally all one chapter together, but it just got too long that I felt like it needed to be split up.

You know the drill - read and review please! I'd love to know what you thought of the latest chapter!

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