Chapter 27: ‘Because I Want To’

A/N: Okay, I’m moving this up a notch, slowly, but surely. My time line here is a bit wonky, so please bear with me. This chapter, for those of you keeping up, begins about two weeks after the dance thing at Clem’s. We have to assume that Spike and Buffy have been seeing each other secretly off and on for the past two weeks whenever it’s possible. Sorry for scrunching up the time, but I’m running out of chapters and there’s still some ‘heavy’ stuff to come. Thanks, Luv, Spuf


Buffy closed the inventory log that her boss, Olivia, had her going over for the past three hours. She had been working at the Sunnydale Gallery for almost two weeks now and loved it so much that she hated having to leave to go home. Sadly, she found every minute away from her own husband quite freeing for some reason, especially the moments she was with Will.

As much as Buffy knew that her connection with Will was wrong on so many levels, she found ‘their’ time together, William’s and hers, to be liberating for her. William simply seemed to understand Buffy more, at this point in time, then anyone else in her life right now. Even Willow and Tara, who now ‘knew’ first hand that there was another man in her life, couldn’t fill the space that Will could, the need she had to be with him.

It was that simple and that scary for Buffy. Although Willow and Tara agreed to ‘cover’ for Buffy when necessary, they asked that she not tell them who this mystery man was, for now anyway. It simply made everything easier for everyone.

In fact, on this very Thursday night, Buffy had told Angel that while he went off to play golf, drink and God knows what, with Riley Finn, she was going out for ‘fun’ time with the girls. Actually, she was going to Will’s place for dinner and ‘conversation’ and she had spent more then a few evenings and days with him there. No matter what else in her life, Buffy was deeply grateful for the ‘friendship’ that Will and her had formed and she dreaded having to give it up. When Buffy joined Will at his apartment, she would park her car at an appropriate distance away.

He would pick her up and drive her to his apartment and they would eat some wonderful concoction he’d come up with, talk and inevitably sleep together. No matter how long they had together, sometimes just a few hours, Buffy came away from Will’s feeling a completeness in her life that she had not felt in a long time, maybe not ever.

“Hey, Princess,” Will called out to Buffy when she pulled up into the mall parking lot.

“Hi, Will,” she said shyly, somewhat embarrassed by her own bashfulness. No matter how much they shared together, Buffy was still shy around William; it didn’t make much sense, but there it was.

“Hungry?” he asked bluntly. “Always,” she replied just as bluntly.

When they got to his place, Buffy stepped in the front door and was met by the most wonderful aroma, “what’s for dinner?” she asked boldly.

“Quiche,” he replied simply, “and before you say one smart arse thing, yes, real men eat quiche.”

‘Apparently, they cook it too,’ she mused with a giggle.

“Oh, I know you’re a real man, William Giles,” she piped up even as she slipped off her pumps and curled up on the leather sofa. The smirk he shot her was more then enough of a response to her innuendo.

“How’s work?” he asked her, bringing her some wine in a glass.

“Great,” she answered truthfully, “exhausting for some reason, but in a good way.”

Spike plopped down closely beside her on the couch, wearing what he hoped was a dazzling smile.
The closeness of Buffy always made his black jeans fit just a bit tighter, especially in the crotch and he still felt embarrassed by this fact. As honest as he’d been with Buffy, Spike, deep down inside, still felt shy about how aroused she made him, just by talking to him.

“I’m going to not only be working on Thursday, every other Saturday and Monday, now I’m going to be showing up on Wednesday at the Gallery!” she told him, obviously more then pleased about this.

“That’s wonderful, Princess,” he murmered to her, tenderly pushing a strand of golden hair from her face.

Spike took a sip of his beer and looked at her, this remarkable woman that he loved more then life.

‘You keep doing it Princess,’ he thought to himself, ‘you just get more and more independent from that prick you’re married to. Pull further and further away from him until you ‘know’ you don’t need him at all. And I’ll be there, Buffy, for my one good day.’

“What?” he asked her out loud when he saw the inquisitive look on her pretty face. Her eyes were so wide and soft right that very minute, more so then ususal and he could tell there was something she wanted, no needed to talk to him about or ask him about.

“I was wondering something,” she began with shy hesitation, “actually, I’ve always wondered something about you.”

Spike smiled at her, “what? Ask away, luv,” he finished, sitting even closer to her, his hand on her thigh.

“I was wondering,” she stammered again, “when your Mom, Anne, went back to England with Drusilla and Guinevere, why didn’t you go with them?”

Spike felt like his heart would stop beating that very instant, but he swallowed, hard and tried to answer as best he could.

“I guess because England just wasn’t my home anymore, Princess,” he muttered, “if it ever really was.”

Buffy nodded, but she still looked confused so Spike tried to explain to her satisfaction.

“I mean, look,” he whispered, gruffly, “my own real Dad wouldn’t marry my Mum, even though she was pregnant with me. He was a real piece of work, that one, though Mum never says nothing against him. Some Royal Air Force bastard that couldn’t stick around long enough to give me a proper name.”

Buffy cringed, remembering back to that evening on the beach when she’d called Will that hurtful name, cutting him to the bone, she was sure. As if he read her mind, William took her hand in his, “it’s alright, Princess,” he murmered, “I realized a long time ago that I’m not the bastard, my real Dad was. And besides, Mum did alright for herself, marrying old Rupert and all. A damn sight better then if she’d been stuck with my real old man.”

This still didn’t answer her real question so she asked Will again, ‘why didn’t you go back with your Mom?’

Will stood up and got another beer, a ploy Buffy noticed he did when he had to ‘think things out’ in his head, before he answered her.

When he came back, he had that look of determination on his face, the one that told her he’d come to grips with whatever he was going to tell her.

“Buffy, luv,” he said softly as he took her hand again, “I stayed because I felt this was my real home now. That and I found it hard to look any of them in the eye anymore, Mum, Dru and poor Rupert, who insisted on adopting me when I was only three-years-old. After Rupert died, it was even harder for me to face my Mum and Drusilla, and little Guinevere was the hardest of all. I just couldn’t face the fact that I’d let them all down. I should have protected Drusilla more, like Dad and Mum tried to do. I failed them, Buffy, all of them.”

Buffy reached out and took his hand in her tiny one, “I bet ‘they’ don’t feel that way Will,” she whispered and kissed his cheek softly, “I know how much Drusilla loves you.”

‘And you,’ Spike mused to himself. ‘I wish I could tell you Buffy, how many times my poor little sis told me I had to stay here, in Sunnydale to protect you. My ‘golden Princess’ needed me more then she did, or my Mum, or Guinevere. She was right, Buffy, you needed me much more then anyone, even if you never knew it. Drusilla knew, she knew I could help free you, especially from that evil dark knight, Angel, as she called him. Dru always said that I was the shining white knight that would help Princess Buffy escape the dark knight’s evil power.’

“Besides,” Spike grinned at her, snapping out of his reverie, “we wouldn’t be here, now, together, like this, if I’d of left, right?”

Buffy grinned back at him, “true,” she chuckled, “selfish as that is, I’d miss out on our time together and I’m thankful for it Will, I am, truly.”

She sat for a moment and thought about what he’d said, about what ‘they’ now had together, then she finally got up the courage to ask her next question.

“Will,” she whispered, snuggling down into his arms, “all that junk you had on me, that awful, gross stuff you threatened me with…..”

Will suddenly flinched, she could feel his whole body tense up, “yeah,” he rasped.

“You never were going to give that to Angel, were you, Will. Never were going to use any of it against me. Any of it?” Buffy asked softly, all ready knowing the answer before he gave it.

“No,” he whispered huskily and she knew he was telling the truth, without even looking at him.

She turned to look up at him, her eyes slightly misted from tears, “good,” she whispered, stroking his cheek again, “because I want you to know something. You don’t have to hold me here, Will, I come here, to be with you, because I want to, not because I feel like I have to. Okay?”

He nodded, his own blue eyes misted with tears, “okay, Princess,” he whispered back to her lovingly, lightly kissing her forehead.

“I value our time together, Will,” she murmered as she kissed his lips gently, “it’s not much to say to you, not what you want, I know, but it’s a lot for me to share with you. I hope it’s enough, for now, anyway.”

Will pulled her closer, “it’s everything for now,” he murmered hoarsely.

Buffy began to run her soft full lips down the side of his left cheek, then to his neck and finally to his chest, which was conveniently bare. Spike only wore a pair of black jeans, nothing else, and was he ever thankful for that! Running her mouth down to his chest, Buffy ran her tongue over his nipples, something that she did that never failed to amaze or arouse him, fully.

“Keep it up, Princess,” he moaned, “and I’ll…..” but he didn’t finish because she had unzipped his jeans and pulled his penis out of it’s confines.

“You’ll what?” she purred as she ran her hot little tongue over the his other head.

“Jesus, Buffy,” he groaned even louder as she continued doing a most marvelous thing with her sweet mouth. He fought back a wave of jealousy, the one that asked, ‘where the bloody hell did she learn to do that so well?’ Instead, Spike just lay back against his couch, his hands clutching her head and let Buffy work her own special magic.

“I’m not going to last, baby,” he groaned again, his eyes half closed in pleasure.

Buffy paused long enough to quip with a smirk, “I think that’s the idea, Will,” and went back to what she’d been doing, so very well.

Just before he came, Spike begged Buffy to stop and come up to him, but she shook her head stubbornly.

“I mean it, Buffy,” he growled, “get up here, I want to be in you when I cum.”

Without waiting for her to make a move, Spike pulled her, carefully that is, up yanked her pants and knickers down, thrusting her onto himself in one smooth swoop.

“I said,” he growled again, “I want to be in you when I cum!” Then he began to kiss her mouth like a starving man.

“Will!” she cried as she came, her body shivering in pleasure.


Later, they lay, wrapped up in each other’s arms on the couch, both sated and drowsy. Buffy fought to keep her eyes open, but she was quickly loosing the battle.

Will just lay spooned up into her, their front sides together and slicked with pleasant wetness.

“Mmmm,” she purred against his chest.

“Bloody hell yeah, Mmmmm,” he echoed with a chuckle, stroking her damp hair. They lay there for a few minutes, just trying to calm their breathing when suddenly, William bolted up in a panic, “my quiche!” he cried.

Before he could untangle himself from Buffy, she clutched him to her and forced him to look at her . She knew her expression told Will of the sad desperation in her heart.

“This,” she rasped staring into his gorgeous blue eyes, trying to convey her inner fears, “it’s a mess, isn’t it?”

Will returned her gaze, but his eyes held a glimmer of hope, “yeah, Princess,” he whispered, kissing the end of her nose, “it’s a bloody mess, right now. But I’ll fix it, I promise.”

Spike paced around his apartment, like a nervous cat, or an expectant father. It was Sunday afternoon and he hadn’t seen Buffy since yesterday, Saturday evening, which by his standards was just way too long to go without her. His love had somehow convinced her moron husband that she worked ‘every’ Saturday at the Sunnydale Gallery, instead of every other Saturday or two and he was ever grateful for that.

Buffy could steal away from that prick, Angel, and spend her Saturday with Spike, however, it just killed him by inches, to have to let her leave his bed and go back home.

“Yeah, I know,” Spike grumbled to himself, lighting another cigarette, “Buffy ‘avoids’ dear old Angel, like the plague, at home, anyway, but……”

Spike wasn’t a stupid man, but he was a man in love, with a married woman. He looked at the beveled mirror above the entertainment center, “would you avoid Buffy sexually if you were her husband?” he asked his reflection. “Hell no!” his mirror image responded with a smirk.

Opening his third beer in an hour, Spike flopped down on his leather couch, the one he and Buffy had made love on Thursday. Yesterday, they’d actually made it to his bed, giggling and laughing all the way as Spike pulled every bit of clothing off of her, almost frenzied. Buffy’s little ‘this is a mess’ speech, regarding their affair, had alarmed him on Thursday. Oh, he’d reassured her it was alright, or was going to be, but Spike hadn’t totally explained just how or why it was going to work out for them.

“I think it’s time, mate,” he said to himself, even as he reached for his cordless phone.

Clem answered his home phone on the fourth ring, “what’s up, Spike?” the man asked cautiously.

“Angel’s luck just ran out,” Spike said answered evenly, “it’s time.”

Buffy wondered around her big two-storied house all day Sunday, just waiting for Angel to come home. He was out golfing, big surprise, with Riley, or some other generic club partner, this Sunday afternoon.

“Sometimes I think Angel’s in love with one of his caddies,” Buffy sighed as she sat down on her beloved sofa. It’s not that it mattered anymore, really, Buffy had come to grips a few weeks ago, that she was losing more then a passing interest in what Angel did lately. The problem was, Buffy had always been more then a tad afraid of the unknown, and until Angel came around, she would fret over what would happen when he did.

‘Would they fight, argue? Would her husband try to claim his marital rights? Did she want him to?’

“What a freakin’ mess,” she grumbled to herself, watching out the front bay window of her living room. Little Devon Jameson Jr. rode his tricycle down the sidewalk in front of her house, his dad following closely behind.

“I dated you, a couple of times in High School, Devon Jameson Sr.,” she chuckled to herself, “you kissed me in the back of the gym one day. Wonder if you remember that?”

Angel took that moment to come through the back door of their house, “Buffy!” he called out, slightly impatiently she thought.

“I’m in the living room,” she answered indifferently. Her husband strode into the room and right up to Buffy, “I have to go to LA tomorrow,” he announced, his expression was a mix of smug and apology. Buffy shrugged, “Dawnie missing SunnyD?” she asked.

He nodded then seemed to ponder something for a moment or two, “yeah, she’s missing Connor.”

She noted that she actually didn’t cringe this time when her young indiscretion was mentioned, “how special,” she merely muttered.

Then, “you know, Angel,” Buffy began, her voice just a little condescending, “I’m beginning to wonder if your two law partners might be thinking they’re missing a third wheel?” After all, Angel was out of the office and away from home an awful lot.

“It’s a business trip, babe,” Angel assured her, “for about a week. I’m going to clean up a little mess in LA, pick up Dawnie and bring her home about Sunday. The firm depends on me to ‘clean little disasters up, you know that Buff. I’d ask you to go with, but…..”

His smug expression made Buffy want to ‘yak’ but she controlled herself.

“Well, of course, I’m working,” she retorted, picking up the new copy of Sci-Fi Monthly from her coffee table, wondering why she even subscribed to the stupid thing anyway.

“Well of course,” he responded, the smugness in his tone fell about three levels. “Okay,” Angel responded, with a lot less bravado then before, “you work, I’ll work in LA and everybody’s happy, right?”

‘Right’ Buffy nodded without looking up at him again.

 

Chapter 28: ‘Mothers, Daughters, DeSotos and Ice’


A/N: Okay, uh a really stupid title, I know it, but there it is! Anyway, I hope people are still reading this story. Thanks if you are and please review if you can, luv, Spuf.


Buffy lay alone in her’s and Angel’s bed, thankfully, while her husband worked downstairs in his study. He was leaving tomorrow for LA, and apparently, he had some homework to do for the office before he left. Just a few moments earlier, he had come up the stairs to check on her, only to find her feigning sleep.

She really was trying to sleep, but a lot of crap just kept playing out in her overworked mind. ‘I wonder,’ she thought to herself, ‘if Angel has a woman, or women in LA, too?’

Not that it should matter anymore, Buffy’s adultry was right up there with Angel’s by now, she was sure of that. With a sigh, she turned to adjust the alarm clock by his side of the bed and noticed the green light of his private phone, ‘Angel is talking to someone,’ she reasoned, just as she reached for his phone, ‘I wonder who?’

“I know Dad,” she heard her husband’s voice on the line, “but Buffy isn’t Mom and probably never will be. I’m just surprised that she hasn’t rebelled against me before now, stubborn little brat that she is.”

Frank Traver’s baritone voice boomed in response, “well knock her up and keep her busy at home. A couple of kids and she’ll be begging for a Nanny in no time, just so she can go to the gym three times a week or get her hair done. I’m telling you son, get her pregnant, she’ll fall back in line.”

Buffy heard her husband’s sigh of frustration, “yeah, well I’ll think about it Dad,” then changing the subject, “How’s Dawnie?”

She returned the receiver of Angel’s phone very carefully, although it was difficult, trying to see through the red film of anger and humiliation she was experiencing.

“That stupid prick!” she hissed, “the both of them! Daddy tells Angel to ‘knock me up’ and he’ll think about it! As if I don’t get a say, or it takes Daddy dearest to encourage him! Jeez!” When Angel came to bed, well past midnight, Buffy again pretended to be asleep and he didn’t even try to wake her.

Monday morning came bright and early and Buffy woke up to find herself alone, again in her bed. She heard the shower going in the master bathroom and glanced at the alarm clock on the end table. ‘7:00 AM’ she thought, ‘good I hope he leaves as soon as possible!’

Angel, finished with his shower, sauntered back into their bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Morning,” he grunted at her as he pawed through his closet for some clothes.

“Morning,” she responded, really trying to sound chipper and all but only managing to sound somewhat indifferent.

Suddenly, her husband, who was famous for the ultimate ‘brood’ look, the one he was wearing right now, dropped the towel from around his waist and literally leapt from his position by the closet into their bed, laughing like a kid.

“Come on baby,” he chortled, landing in a heap on top of her, “give Daddy some Buffy lovin’”

Buffy was stunned, past stunned actually, Angel hadn’t done something like this in ages, lately he’d been so damn broody and well, dull and certainly distant.

“I, I’m, I don’t, I…..” she stammered, not quite sure just ‘how’ to react to ‘fun, interested Angel’ again. So, she just gave in and lay there while her husband claimed his marital rights. Oh sure, she sighed and moaned at the right times, even threw in a couple of ‘oh mys’ when she thought it was timely, but in her heart, Buffy couldn’t help but feel miserable, she felt that she was cheating on Will.

Angel went off to LA, a real smile on his face and Buffy took a long hot bath, sobbing the whole time, thinking of Will. When she finally finished her soak, she wrapped herself up in a silky pink robe and lay back down on the bed.

It took a whole five minutes before she dialed Will’s number, taking a deep breath, she prayed he’d answer the phone.

“Buffy?” he greeted on the second ring. ‘Will must have gotten Cell ID,’ she surmised.

“Yeah, it’s me, ” she whispered. “What’s wrong, Princess?” he asked with concern. “Nothin’, not really, just wanted to talk to you. Is that okay, Will?” she asked meekly.

“Course it is, luv, but are you sure you’re okay?” She nodded, another stupid move, the man couldn’t ‘see’ her through the phone for God’s sake!

“I have to work tonight, you know?” she said, stating the obvious, but not sure of what else to say, she just needed to hear his strong, masculine voice.

“I know, Princess, I wish I could see you,” his tone was so wistful that it near broke Buffy’s heart.

“You can!” she blurted suddenly.

“Angel left for LA, just a little while ago. I’m alone for almost a week, except for work of course. Do you want to see me this week, Will?" she asked, ashamed that her tone sounded more like a whimper then a request.

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” he responded, “any time I can. You come over any time you want, I’ll be here…waiting for you.”

Buffy felt a sense of exhileration, mixed with a tinge of sympathy; ‘he loves me,’ she thoughtly sadly, ‘he loves me and is willing to just wait around for me.’ For a moment, Buffy felt like the total bitch she probably really was.

“I’d like that, Will,” she murmered, “I like being with you. You believe that, don’t you?”

He said yes and she suddenly felt ten times better then just a few minutes ago, “thank you Will,” she whispered. “I’ll call you, if that’s okay, right after I get off work tonight.”

The sound of expectant silence echoed over the line and Buffy waited for Will to answer her. “Buffy?” he began quietly, “will you spend the night with me?” She didn’t even have to think about that one, “yes,” she answered warmly.

Buffy got ready for work that Monday, humming to herself and thinking about spending some safe quality time with William. Just before she left for the Gallery, she dialed her mother in Santa Barbara on her own cell phone.

“Mom?” she greeted when Joyce Summers picked up, “hi honey,” her mother answered happily.

“Hi Mom,” she responded, trying not to sound suspicious, but failing as usual.

“Is everything alright , honey?” her Mother asked, sounding worried.

“Mom, I need a favor from you,” Buffy said carefully, “a big one.” Joyce assured her that she would do anything for her only daughter.

“I need you to tell Angel, if he calls, that I am definitely there, or getting up there to your place or around there in some way. Will you do that, Mom?”

Joyce didn’t say anything for a few moments then she finally answered her daughter, “yes, I will, Buffy. And I won’t ask questions, for now anyway, but I want you to come up here, for real, soon, and tell me just what the hell is going on and why. I’m going to go with, for right now, that Angel is being a complete idiot about something and you need time to yourself, but I’m warning you Buffy, if this is something else, I want answers, and soon!”

Spike strode into ‘Clem’s Bar’ a man with a mission. He searched the bar for Clem himself and found him behind it, dutifully wiping out glasses and mugs, stacking them up evenly against the wall.

“Hey Spike,” the short dark man called out to him.

“How about a drink, mate?” Spike asked, ignoring the clock above the mirror that glared the still early morning hour at him.

“You drink too much, friend,” Clem stated, pouring a whiskey for him anyway.

“Less then before,” Spike shot back with a smirk and downed the shot of alcohol.

“Less then before what? Or should I ask, before who, Spike?” Clem grinned at him.

“Her, Buffy,” is all Spike could reply to his friend. “Is everything getting started,” Spike asked, a wicked grin spread on his own face.

“Oh yeah, it’s getting started,” Clem chuckled, pouring his business partner another shot. “I’ve got just the right amount of information, for now, on Angel Travers going out to the right sources, right where it’ll do the most good.”

Spike nodded, contently, then sipped this shot, slowly, “you know, mate,” he chuckled, “I can’t wait to see the look on Angel Traver’s face when he realizes he’s goin’ to ‘hell’ and just who helped send him there!”

Clem smiled at his best friend, “yeah, that’ll be priceless.” He finished with his own wicked grin.

Spike made some phone calls, just before Buffy was supposed to meet him at the park that Monday night. He had made plans for the both of them for that night, the next day and night, then she’d have to go back to the Gallery on Wednesday. With the ‘poof’ out of town, Spike was going to take full advantage of his time with Buffy. His cell phone rang, shrilly, it was his Buffy.

“I’m on my way to the park, Will,” she mumbled, shyly, “will you meet me?” As if she had to ask.

“Course I’ll be there, waiting for you, luv,” he answered, “uhm, did you bring some extra clothes with you?” She did.

“Good, cos’ we’re going out of town tomorrow, someplace you’ll like, promise.” Buffy was silent for a moment then she whispered, “I’d like that, Will, thanks.”

When they got back to Spike’s apartment, he wasted no time in pulling Buffy flush against him and kissing her senseless. It helped that she didn’t put up a fight, not that she had of late, but her eager responsiveness was even more of a turn on to him.

“Buffy,” he gasped as he carried her into his bedroom and laid her back onto the bed, tumbling on top of her.

“Will, I’ve missed you,” she cried out as he assaulted her mouth and neck with his lips.

“Missed you,” he echoed her sentiments, pulling her clothes from her body as he continued his kissing assault down her neck onto ther chest and now bare breasts.

“Oh God,” she hissed as he licked and sucked her nipples, hungrily.

He started to say, with a smirk, “I don’t think God has much to do with ‘this’ Princess,” but then thought better of it. ‘God has to have ‘everything’ to do with this,’ he mused, ‘this is as close to Heaven as I’ll ever surely get.’

“I have to taste you,” he rasped, running his mouth down past her breasts to her tummy, then lower to her still covered target he was searching for.

Buffy giggled wildly, “if you want a taste, you’ll have to take my pants off youself!”

He halted his kissing and looked up at her with a half smile, “is that a dare, Princess?” he asked, delighted.

“Yup!” she laughed happily, “it’s a dare, Will!”

Will began to run his lips wildly across her bare tummy and tried to tug the zipper of her pants down to gain access to his ultimate destination.

“Stop!” she shrieked, laughing loudly, “that tickles!”

He pursued his prey with relentness abandon until she was giggling so much that she began to cry.

“I’ll stop,” he purred, “if you’ll lay still and let me remove this roadblock,” he pulled lightly at her pants again.

Buffy suddenly stopped laughing, uncontrollably, and just stared at William, with a somber expression. “I’d like to let you remove the roadblock, Will,” she mumbled, looking straight at him, “but I’m scared.”

William returned her somber gaze, “me too,” he admitted softly, “but I think it’s worth it Buffy.”

She ‘thought’ she knew what Will was talking about, but she wasn’t quite sure enough. Instead of pursuing the present conversation, she clasped his head with her hands and pulled him gently up to face her.

“I need you,” she whispered truthfully.

“I love you,” he stated sincerely.

“If you love me,” Buffy moaned into his mouth, “then please, start with the kissing and shagging, already!”

Never one to let her down, Will began to kiss and lick her lips, mouth, chin and neck, going back down to her breasts and sucking them gently.

“Oh Will,” she sighed breathily, “that’s just so wonderful, please don’t stop loving me.”

He paused for a moment, from his ministrations, “as if I could ever stop loving you Princess,” he smiled up at her.

She gazed down into his adoring blue eyes and couldn’t bear it, she had to have his mouth on her lips again and their bodies connected in all ways.

“Come here,” she commanded, pulling his head back up to her, bringing his lovely lips down on hers.

“Be in me,” she whimpered her order, “please,” she begged this time.

He finally got her darn zipper undone and yanked her pants, panties and all down and off of her, then returned his face to hers where he again kissed her relentlessly.

“Is this what you want?” he growled, thrusting up into her.

“Yes,” is all she could manage in response.

When she woke up the next morning, Buffy was totally relaxed and rested. Will was still asleep beside her and again she was reminded of the young man she’d first known years ago in High School.

“All the young dudes,” she giggled, “that’s what you are, right this minute William Giles.”

Her bed partner turned over in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath, “my Buffy,” he whispered, or so it sounded like to her.

“Yes, Will,” she whispered back, so low no human ear could detect it, “I’m afraid to admit it, but I do believe that I ‘am’ yours, here anyway,” she added, placing her hand over her heart. She let him sleep, carefully untangling herself from his arms, then quietly going about her morning routine.

Searching around in the kitchen, Buffy found coffee and proceeded to brew some for the both of them. Soon the pleasant aroma of Folgers filled the apartment and before she knew it, she heard Will call out to her, either still in his sleep or in a panic; Buffy!

“I’m here,” she called back, “I’m coming Will.” When Buffy got into the bedroom, she found William sitting up in bed, his hair a mass of curls and spikes (just like she adored it).

“Where’d you go?” he asked with a pout. “Just to make coffee,” she replied, airily, jumping up onto the bed to join him.

They snuggled together for a while, chatting about nothing in particular, but enjoying their comfortable conversation.

“So,” Buffy finally broached the subject, “just what are we going to do today and where at?”

Will gave her a mischievious grin and winked at her, “I’m not telling you until we’re almost there, but first we’ve got to stop at a storage place I have to ‘get’ something there.”

Buffy was so curious by the time they’d showered, eaten breakfast and headed out to this storage place, on his Harley, that she couldn’t stop talking about it.

“What is it, Will?” she whined at least five times on the road, sounding just like an impatient child, “where are we going?”

He never said a word back, just chuckled from time to time and ignored her pleadings. Finally, they got to a storage place and Will pulled up to a unit, pulled out keys and opened up the garage door. What met Buffy’s eyes both shocked and delighted her.

“No Way!” she shouted, gleefully. “I don’t believe it, Will!”

Sitting in the storage unit, was William’s DeSoto, his very beloved car and one of Buffy’s most pleasant teenage memories.

“I love this car!” she cried out with glee, even clapping her hands together, “are we going to ride in it, Will?”

Her face was both hopeful and flushed with excitement, it tugged at Spike’s usually cynical heart; but then again Buffy always did melt his heart.

“Well, that is the point of being here, luv,” he chuckled, taking her little hand in his. “Come on, I know it’s gonna’run, I come by and start it up once in a while, just to keep it going.”

He led her to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for her, enjoying her obvious joy in the old treasure. When they left the storage yard and headed out on Highway 101, Buffy couldn’t contain herself any longer, she began to ask a million questions a minute.

“Okay, so where are we going; when will we get there?”

Spike smiled at her, but again ignored her questions, that is until they had been driving about thirty minutes, south on the highway.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart,” he winked at her, reaching over to wrap his right arm around her shoulders.

“Where? Oxnard?” she answered her own question, somewhat puzzled.

“You just answered your own question, again, Princess,” he chuckled softly.

Sure enough, they were getting closer and closer to the City of Oxnard, California, famous for well, ‘strawberries.’

“Will,” she stammered, “uhm, I know that you know that I love strawberries and all, but I mean, the Festival isn’t on yet and…..”

Will laughed at her, causing her to sigh first then pout. “Yes,” he responded, still laughing and squeezing her shoulder gently, “I know how much you love strawberries and no, we’re not here for any Fruit Festival. I’ll tell you now why we’re here, but you have to promise that once we get there, you will do what I want you to. Promise, Buffy?”

Buffy looked him over, trying to read his body language and figure out just what this mystery thingy was he wanted her to do. She assumed it didn’t have anything to do with sex, they could have done something like that anywhere, so she took a chance and promised she’d do what he wanted at their destination.

“Okay, Princess, we’re here,” he said pulling into the parking lot of a mammoth domed building. A sign bearing the title of ‘Oxnard Ice Skating Rink’ blared down at her.

“Ice skating?” Buffy gasped in disbelief, “you want to go ice skating?”

William looked her straight in the eye, his own blue eyes gleamed wickedly, “no,” he began, “I want ‘you’ to ice skate for me.”

Buffy still sat, in stunned disbelief, first looking at the rink, then back at Will.

“Will,” she sighed, “I haven’t skated in years, I don’t even know if I still can. Besides, if I skate, you have to!” she commanded.

“No bloody way in hell, Princess!” he yelped.

“What’s a matter, Spikey,” she purred, sarcastically, “afraid you’ll look like a ‘ponce’?”

He shook his head, “no, Buffy,” he insisted, “afraid I’ll fall and break my fuckin’ neck, or some other vital part of my anatomy!”

She burst out into laughter, “so the ‘big bad’ is really a ‘big baby’ right?” she asked, poking him in his ribs.

“I’m not a big baby, Princess,” he responded evenly, “but I’m not a bloody idiot; and I’m certainly not coordinated, not like you. I’d fall and bust up some important appendage, but remember, luv, you promised me, you’d do what ‘I’ wanted and I want you to ice skate for me, today. Right now.”

 

Chapter 29: ‘Beneath You’


A/N: After writing some pretty angstsy stuff on my other fic, I had to sit back and just go with flow on this chapter, here. I promised angst, but this is only semi-angst! Thanks, Luv, Spuf


In the end, Buffy was the only one who hit the ice at the Oxnard skating rink. Literally, the rink was completely dark when they got inside and she wondered if she’d be able to skate at all.

“It looks closed, Will,” she whispered, rather dissapointed as they entered the cold, empty dome, hand in hand.

“It’s okay, luv,” he assured her, patting her hand, “I’ve got it on good authority that this rink is definitely open, for you that is.”

Buffy shot Will a ‘huh’ look, but followed him over to where a little old man sat, playing solitaire of all things. If she didn’t know better, she’d thought that this guy was just waiting for them.

“Mr. Giles?” the old guy asked, confirming her suspicions. “That’s me, mate,” he chuckled, pulling out his wallet and dropping a Master Card on the small table the man had his cards laid out on.

“I had to search pretty hard, Mr. Giles,” the old man chuckled, “but I finally found a size five pair skates. Cleaned them, sterilized them, just like you ordered. Hope the Mrs. And you enjoy the rink all to yourself!”

Apparently, Will had arranged this little escapade completely, even having the old guy open the rink, which normally would have been closed at this time. Before she could say anything about it, Will motioned her to sit down on a bench and began to unzip the leather boots she wore, only to replace them with the skates he’d had provided.

Without looking up at her, he mumbled lowly, “don’t ask, just skate, okay, Princess?”

She nodded then thought better of it, “okay,” she responded softly, “but I don’t know Will, I haven’t done this in years, I’m not sure if…..”

He smiled up at her, “I’m sure enough for both of us, just skate for me Buffy, please.”

‘Who in the heck could turn down that?’ she asked herself. When he’d laced her skates up, she stood, a little shakily on them, trying to remember the ‘feel’ of the them. Heck she was just trying not to fall on her butt at this point.

For the first thirty minutes, Buffy just skated around the rink, very carefully, while Will watched intently, a pleased smile on his lips. When she passed by him, for the tenth time, at least, she slid over to where he sat on the bench, right next to the ice.

“Sure you don’t want to join me?” she asked, coquettishly.

“Hell no!” he laughed, “Buffy I’d kill myself, honest. I just want to see you enjoy yourself, so go and enjoy already.” By the time an hour had gone by, Buffy was thrilled to find that she could actually do some simple leaps and bounds, even a couple of cautious spins. Finally, all pooped out from the joy the whole experience had brought her and very tired from trying to just stay on her fee, Buffy skated over to her lover.

“That’s enough Will,” she panted, her breaths showed in tiny streams of fog between them. “I’m just too out of practice for this, too out of shape.”

William smiled at her warmly, “you were fantastic, Princess,” he said warmly. “But if you want to stop, that’s okay, we have someplace to be in another city, anyway. Come on then." He offerred her his hand and pulled her up onto the stand area so she could remove her skates and they could leave.

A little while later, Buffy and Spike were driving north, back up the 101 highway, past Sunnydale, past Santa Barbara and even passing up the beautiful San Luis Obispo area.

“Just where are we going,Will?” Buffy asked innocently, snuggling up against next to him in the car.

“San Simeon,” he answered simply, keeping his attention on the road ahead of him, even though it was near impossible with Buffy so ‘close’ at his side.

“San Simeon!” she gasped excitedly, bringing another smile to his face.

“Someone told me about this really great beach house to rent, right on the shore of the ocean. So I rented it, for tonight, would have done the whole week but I know you have to be back to the Gallery tomorrow evening and all.” He was very pleased with himself indeed, when he saw the happy look on his Buffy’s pretty face.

Buffy wriggled around in the DeSoto’s front seat, unable to contain her glee at going to San Simeon for the night. She hadn’t been there since she was a young girl, it was one of the places her Daddy used to take her Mom and her, that is before he left them, permanently. San Simeon was one of the most beautiful places along the coast of California and certainly rich in history, abundant in art lore. Hearst Castle, the ‘ranch’ of the William Randolph Hearst family, was nestled up in the rolling hills that ran right along the coastline. Of course the Hearst family had turned over the old estate years ago to the State of California, but they still owned a lot of the surrounding acres, even continuing the ranch activities that old man Hearst had loved so much in his lifetime.

“Can we see the Castle, Will?” she cried enthusiastically, “do you think we can get in?” The ‘Castle’ which was really an elegant ranch house, was replete with artistic treasures, rare statues and gorgeous architecture, mixed up into a conglomeration that somehow ‘worked.’

“Course we’re going to the Castle, for you luv,” he chuckled, squeezing her tightly to him, “wouldn’t let you miss it.”

Buffy felt silly but she couldn’t resist clapping her hands together, just like she did when Daddy Hank had taken her there, years before. Suddenly, she fell very silent, something was niggling the back of her mind and she was pretty sure of just what it was.

“Will,” she whispered as they drove through the quaint little village of Cambria, “thank you for everything. For the skating, this, just everything. It means so damn much to me, I can’t even tell you how much.” She felt the threat of tiny tears at the corner of her eyes and tried to brush them away, somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he murmered, tightening his grip on her shoulders even more, “anything for you.”

Buffy was in ‘Heaven’ at least for her. They had booked two tours in the ‘Castle’ and Buffy was simply estatic with both of them. Tour Two took them through some of the guest rooms of ‘La Cuesta de Encantada’ the other name of the Castle. This also included various works of art that Mr. Hearst loved and collected, then there was the baroque ceilings in the various rooms they toured. The tapestries alone could keep Buffy busy for a week, just trying to take all of them in. When that tour was finished, William hurried her to the Tour Four encounter, which ended up at Buffy’s other love, ‘the Wine Celler.’ By the time they finished with their tours and were heading back down the winding road to the highway, it was after 5:00 PM.

“Hungry?” Will asked, probably fully knowing the answer to that.

“Famished!” Buffy squealed in response, still reeling from the beauty she’d just experienced, “can we get a pizza, Will?”

“Okay,” he laughed, “pizza it is, but from where?” They looked around the rather isolated town of San Simeon, someplace that appeared to ‘roll up the sidewalks’ by sundown.

“Hmmmm,” Buffy squinted looking around for any signs of a Pizza Hut or some other place that offerred her beloved dish. “I don’t think we’re getting pizza tonight, Will,” she pouted, “but hey, there’s always Mexican food!”

She pointed to an adobe like building that advertised the best Mexican food and cactus margueritas in the County, so Will pulled in. The host seated them and brought them bright shiny menus, ones that advertised all kinds of Spanish delicacies.

“Your Senora is muy bonita, Senor,” the youngish waiter grinned at Will and winked at Buffy.

“Don’t I know it mate,” Will chuckled, good-naturedly, in response.

When they’d finished their meal and their ‘Cactus Maggies’ Buffy and Spike drove to the beach house that he had rented. He watched her scurry about the place, excitedly, running from point to point, unable to stand or sit still for even a second.

“Oh, Will!” she cried happily, “it’s right on the beach, just like you said!” She threw open the shuttered doors that led to the private veranda, “God I love this place!” she shouted out to the ocean, causing Spike to join her on the balcony of their place.

“God, I love you, Buffy,” he murmered softly in her ear.

“I know,” she mumbled, accepting his arms about her, leaning back into his chest. Some local teens, or maybe even surfers had started a bonfire on the beach, just yards from their balcony and it lit up the shore and part of the now midnight blue sky like fireworks.

“Will,” she whispered, staring out at the scene in front of them, “I think maybe we better get some things cleared up. Things from the past and all.”

She felt him tense up, but continued, “it’s important that we talk about what happened, you know, back then in High School. I need to tell you some things and you need to know about them.”

If he was wary, he didn’t show it, just stood behind her, his muscular arms held her in an embrace.

“About that night, at Delta Kai, I mean,” she began. “You don’t have to explain Buffy, I understand, really,” he assured her.

“No, you don’t,” she stated sternly. “I don’t think you understand at all, I certainly didn’t, not until a few years ago, so please, just let me tell it to you.”

“Back then,” she sighed, snuggling even further into William, “we were all friends, just that, right?” She felt him nod in agreement against the back of her head. “You and Angel,” she began, then paused, “I have to mention Angel in this Will. He’s really a big part of all this past history for both of us and I’m going to have to mention him, okay?”

Will nodded again, silently.

“Anyway, you and Angel were like ‘Immortals; like Gods’ to me Will. Needless to say, your reputations, with the girls that is, preceeded both of you. While I was in awe of you guys, I was also more then intimidated by you both. You could have any girls you wanted, any of them and I’m sure you both did. But for all of your macho bravado and egotistical swaggers, I knew in my heart that you both ‘cared’ for me, at least in a kind of little sister way.”

“One night,” she continued, “when you weren’t with us, the regular group that is, probably out getting laid in the back of your car or something.”

Buffy felt Will flinch and nuzzle his lips into her hair, “it’s okay,” she chuckled, “if I was more bold or experienced back then, I’d certainly have been the one in the back seat with you, okay. Anyway, suffice to say, you weren’t with us that night. Angel, me, Willow, Xander, even Cordelia, Holden and Amy, gosh even Harmony and Devon Siles were together, in the Harris basement. We’d been drinking, heavily, for us and decided to play a game of ‘spin the bottle/go in the closet.’ It was Angel’s turn to spin and as fate would have it, the bottle landed on ‘me.’ So, true to the rules of the game, we went into the stupid closet together.”

“I was completely clueless, of course, as to what I was supposed to do with Angel in there. After all, my previous boyfriend turned out to be gay in the end and all’s he’d ever done was kissed me and felt me up once or twice. Angel, drunk as he was and experienced as he was was up for more then a few kisses and gropes, you know?”

Again, William tensed up, but mumbled something about her going on with the story.

“Angel had me pinned to the closet wall within seconds and had moved from kissing to assaulting my body within minutes. What was I supposed to do? I had no idea what this hot, experienced guy wanted, so I just went with the flow and kissed him back, a few times, let him feel me up, which did nothing for me, really, and groaned at what I thought was the appropriate times.

Apparently, Angel caught on to me, my real disinterest and pushed me away, non too gently saying; and I’ll never forget this one….
‘you’ve got a lot to learn about men, kiddo!’

I rushed out of the closet, promising myself I’d never talk about this humiliation to anyone, least of all Angel, who never even remembered that night, ever. He’d been too drunk at the time.”

“I’m listening, Princess,” Spike whispered, “but I don’t see how this pertains to us and that night at the frat bash.”

Buffy clutched his hand, the one resting on her shoulder, tightly. “It’s really simple, Will,” she mumbled, “when you followed Riley and me up the stairs, all in the name of nobility and everything, you were my white knight, my champion. Then, later, I mean when it got all ‘hot and heavy’ between us, I couldn’t help but think of Angel and me, in that disgusting little closet together. His words cut me like a knife, even when it was you and me, together. I never felt like I was above you Will, I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you, I was beneath you. I’d see that look of dissapointed contempt in your beautiful blue eyes and feel even worse about myself then I had with Angel.”

Spike felt like he couldn’t breathe, for about a minute or so, then he released his breath in relief. “So now, Angel and the Chase bitch?” he asked.

“Just a reminder of what a loser I am, Will,” she answered, letting the tears come now, freely. “I mean, if Angel after six years of marriage finds me wanting, what’s going to happen to you and me? How soon until you find me, you know, beneath you, unsatisfactory as a lover…”

“Fuck Angel!” he hissed, spinning her around to face him. “Fuck him and his bullshit mind games. You’re not beneath me, Buffy,” Will insisted, desperately, “you’re everything to me. You’re everything any sane man could want in a lover; warm, responsive and very, very sexy, I swear to God, Buffy! And for the record, I haven’t been with anyone else since you and me got together, no matter how fucked up that was!”

He pulled her so close and held her so tightly that she found it hard to breathe. “I love you Buffy,” he declared again, “I’ve loved you since, well since a long time ago and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that prick of a husband of yours convince you that the fault is in you. It’s him, Princess, he’s a fuckin’ monster, a number one loser and an all round menace to society. I love you,” he whimpered, clutching her desperately, “I love you so much!”

Buffy buried her face into Will’s chest and let the tears flow even more, “I need you, Will,” she rasped, “need you so very much.”

They stumbled, together, off of the balcony, through the front area and into the bedroom of the beach house, kissing each other on the way.

“I need you,” Buffy gasped, pulling at Will’s clothes frantically.

“I love you,” he rasped back, “God I love you so much!” He ripped her top off of her and pushed her down onto the bed, gently as he was capable of, and fell down on top of her.

“Want you,” he mumbled against her mouth, “want you too,” she responded, pulling his body as close to her as she could.

“Fuck me!” she commanded him, yanking his unzipped jeans down below his slim hips.

“Gladly,” he responded as he ripped her thong off of her and enthusiastically thrust into her.

“Oh, God, Will!” she cried out as her lover slammed into her body with all the force he could. “Tell me!” he ordered her now, “tell me what you want!”

Buffy matched Will’s pants and his rythm, thrust for thrust, “I want this,” she moaned, her voice husky with pleasure. “I want this and you and everything you can give me, Will!”

He pounded into her, “who do you want, Buffy?” She began to kiss his mouth, his jaw, his neck, “you! Only you, Will! I only want you fucking into me, giving me everything you can, all that you can! Dance with me, Will! Please don’t ever leave me!”

William stopped thrusting long enough to look her straight in the eye, “I’ll never leave you. I’d take a stake in my heart first, Princess!” Then he began to dance with her even more.

The next day, on the way home, Buffy and Spike were silent, for most of the time anyway. By the time they’d reached her Camaro, parked at the little strip mall, they had pretty much come to a mutual agreement, silently, if not verbally. Buffy would want only him and visa versa, and he’d never leave her, excpet unless he died first. It was a pact they’d made during sex, but a pact it was and as good as any legal contract, as far as they were concerned anyway. The night before had been an epiphany of sorts, especially for Buffy and she had let herself go totally, more so then with anyone else, ever. Even Angel.

When they got to her car, Spike sighed, wistfully, “do you think that you could see me tonight?” he asked. Buffy looked at him shyly and smiled, “yeah, spose I could,” she purred, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“See you tonight, luv,” he called to her as she took off in her car.

For the couple of days, Buffy and Spike fell into a routine. She went to work, he did what he did for work and they got together at his place at night. Buffy always checked in at home, careful to make sure that her husband was placated as to her whereabouts, who she was with and all.

On Thursday night, Buffy and Will lay in his bed, sated from sex and just talking together like lovers tend to do when she sat up looked at her picture above his dresser.

“I want to go see my Mom,” she stated matter-of-factly, “I need to see her and talk to her.”

William set up next to her and wrapped his arms about her body, “okay, luv, I’ll take you up, tomorrow if you want,” he offerred.

“Don’t have to, I can drive myself,” she responded with a pout.

“Of course I don’t have to, Princess,” he kissed her cheek, “I just want to, that’s all.”

Buffy pondered his offer for a moment or two then sighed, “yeah, I want you to, Will. Can we leave first thing tomorrow morning?”
 

Chapter 30: ‘She Isn’t Miss Perfect’



Buffy hurried through the front door of her house, already late to meet Will at Clem’s bar. They were going to meet there, for some weird reason, and then drive up to Santa Barbara to stay the night in some obscure hotel. When she had called her Mother last night from Will’s, Buffy had been cryptic about the reason for her trip up north.

“I need to talk to you Mom,” she explained, briefly, “you know, about what we discussed before. I think we need to suss this out in person.”

Of course Joyce wanted to see her daughter, she was always complaining about how little they got together and she missed that. It was almost 10:00 AM by the time Buffy pulled into the parking lot of Clems bar.

She saw the DeSoto, parked outside the building and checked quickly to see if Will was inside, he wasn’t. A little confused, she entered the building only to find Clem behind the bar and Will sitting on one of the stools.

‘Good thing I’m somewhat comfortable about coming in here,’ she mused as she smiled and waved at Will from the door. He came over to her, planting a chaste kiss on her cheek, then led her back to the bar. There were only a couple of patrons inside, naturally, it was still early in the day and Buffy felt okay about sitting down.

“Be right back. Give my girl some coffee, mate,” Will smiled, squeezing her shoulder lovingly and leaving her alone with the dark haired man behind the bar.

“Hi,” he grinned at her. “Hi, Clem,” she responded, taking the coffee eagerly.

“So,” Buffy began, sipping her coffee and watching the stocky man go about his work, “how’s Sophie?”

Clem turned around, a pleasantly surprised look on his face.

“Did you think I didn’t remember you?” she asked, slyly, giggling.

He pulled a stool on his side of the bar over and sat down on it, sliding his coffee cup over to where they sat.

“Guess not, Buffy,” he smiled, “we didn’t exactly travel in the same circles after all.”

Buffy nodded, “yeah, we didn’t, but I remember Sophie, very well. She was in a couple of my classes and I really liked her. What happened to her?”

He chuckled, “I married her. We’ve got a two-year-old boy and another baby on the way.”

She smiled warmly, “I’m glad for both of you.” Buffy hesitated a minute then asked, “how is it you know William?”

Clem looked around the bar, apparently searching for Will. When he didn’t see any sign of him, he turned his attention back to Buffy.

“Well, that’s a long story,” he responded, “one I think Spike should tell you, not me.”

She nodded again, then asked, “I suppose you know I’m married, right?”

He blushed profusely, “yup, and I know who to, but don’t worry, Buffy,” he assured her, “my loyalty is to my friend Spike, okay?”

Buffy gave him a soft smile, “okay, Clem.” Will chose that moment to come out of the back of the bar and plopped down next to Buffy.

“How bout some breakfast, luv,” he smiled at her, “the ‘chef’ in the back makes great omelettes.”

Buffy gave him a quizzical look, “okay,” she sighed, “that’s it. What’s going on here?” Clem laughed, Will blushed and Buffy got frustrated. “Well,” her lover finally stammered, “I kind of own some of this place.”

On the way up to Santa Barbara, Buffy grilled Will about the bar and a lot of things.

“So,” she started, “how long have you been in business?”

Will blushed again, “a while,” he responded.

“Hmmm,” she murmered, reaching over and running her hand up his thigh, “just what other legitimate business ventures are you into, Spike?” she grinned.

He chuckled, “most of my ‘business ventures’ are legitimate, Princess. Sorry to dissapoint you.”

‘I wonder,’ she thought. They pulled into into the parking lot of the Montecito Inn, in Santa Barbara. Buffy still felt a little odd about this kind of thing, it kind of made her relationship with Will feel less then stellar, but she went along with it. For some reason, she just felt compelled to.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you, pet?” he asked, joining her on the balcony of the room he’d rented.

“No, Will, really. I’ll be fine. It’s going to be enough of a shock for my Mom to realize her daughter isn’t ‘Miss perfect’ if you go…..”


She hadn’t been to her Mom’s Santa Barbara house in ages, but had no problem in finding the spacious ranch style building. Buffy had borrowed Will’s old DeSoto to go see her Mom and get some things straightened out, a few things anyway. Even though she had grown a little distant from her Mom, since she’d married Angel that is, her opinion and emotional support was still very important to Buffy.

Spike had stayed at the Inn; Buffy left him sitting on the couch, watching Passions on the cable stations of the telly, as he called it.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy knocked on her Mother’s front door, feeling ‘funny’ that she should be so nervous about being there.

“Buffy!” Joyce Summers squealed, pulling her only child into a warm embrace. “You look great, honey,” her mom gushed, eyeing her up and down.

“You too, Mom,” Buffy echoed; her mom did look great and she was glad. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Joyce Summers.

“Come on,” Joyce pulled her through the house and onto the patio in back. “I’ve got some lunch out and some mirmosa poured. Everything we need for a nice long chat together!”

Buffy smiled and sat down on a recently purchased whicker chair on her Mom’s patio. “Good, because we have a whole bunch to talk about, Mom,” she sighed. They sat together on the patio, enjoying the gorgeous day, eating California Cuisine and drinking mirmosas, when finally Buffy decided to begin their ‘chat’ in earnest.

“Mom,” she began carefully, setting down her glass on the little glass and whicker table between them, “there’s something I need to tell you. Something I’m not sure you’ll like, and I’m not sure I’m too proud of, but, I need to tell you, now.”

Joyce took a sip of her own mirmosa and watched her daughter over the rim of her glass, “there’s another man, right?” she asked suddenly.

Buffy sat up, a bit stunned by her Mother’s question, but she nodded, averting her green eyes from her Mom’s honest blue ones.

“Yeah, there is, Mom, but it’s not just that, there’s more. I caught Angel with another woman a few months ago, right in his office,” she snorted.

“I can’t say I’m shocked by that one, honey,” Joyce mumbled, causing Buffy to stare at her, even more surprised. “Angel is and always has been just like his father, honey,” her Mother sighed, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. So,” she continued, sipping her mirmosa, “this other man, does he love you?”

‘Geez, Mom, get right to the point much,’ Buffy thought with a smile.

‘Yes, Mom, he loves me so bloody much!” Joyce hesitated, a funny expression on her face, “well, then, I guess my next question would have to be, do you love him?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Buffy answered honestly, “I know I care for him, a lot. He’s been like a rock for me, Mom, even if the whole affair started like a bloody Hollywood horror story.”

Joyce eyed her daughter, seemingly sizing her up before her next question. “Do I dare ask who this ‘other man’ is?”

Buffy stood up, paced around for a while then stood in front of her mother. “Do you really want to?”

With a sorrowful laugh, Joyce took her daughter’s hand. “No, I don’t want to, honey,” she responded, “in fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to. It’s William Giles, isn’t it?”

Buffy felt like she was going to faint, “how’d you know?” she stammered, barely able to breathe.

“Well, first off,” Joyce began, “you’ve used the term ‘bloody’ at least twice in the last five minutes and unless you’ve gotten some new British friends….” Her mother, squeezed Buffy’s hand warmly.

“Secondly, I’m not blind, I saw that one-of-a-kind car of his when you pulled up front.”

Here, Buffy giggled.

“Third, William is the only man I know of that is strong enough, or loves you enough to stick by you, no matter what. Even if it means putting up with your being married to that pompous ass Angel."

“Do you hate me, Mama,” Buffy asked, timidly, sitting on her mother’s lap and curling up into the security there.

“No, I don’t hate you, I love you more then anything, Buffy. I just wish….”

Buffy looked up into her mother’s blue eyes, “wish what?”she asked, cuddling her head into Joyce’s chest.

“I just wish you were happy, honey. As for William, I’ve known about ‘that’ for years, and it doesn’t shock me, just makes me sad a little.”

Daughter looked up again at mother, another ‘say what’ expression on her face.

Joyce chuckled warmly, tightening her arms about Buffy, “I’ve watched you and William for years. The way you two have danced around each other, the way you’ve ignored his feelings for you. In fact, two days after your wedding day, he showed up at the old house on Revello Drive. God, but he was drunk, drunker then anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Tell me more,” Buffy ordered softly, snuggling deeper into her mother’s lap.

“Well,” Joyce murmered, stroking her daughter’s blond head, “he was drunk, miserable and yes, pretty angry. I don’t know if he was still drunk from the night before, or drunk from that very morning, but he was smashed, either way. He stumbled into the front room after I opened the door, ranting on about what a bloody idiot Angel was, how he’d ruin your life, and so on. I felt so sorry for him, I fixed him hot chocolate, with those little marshmellows you love and made him sleep it off on the couch.”

“When he woke up, I tried to open his eyes to some harsh truths, like how he should go back to England, help Anne and Drusilla with little Guinevere,” here Buffy flinched, “but he still insisted he was needed here. By you.” Buffy couldn’t believe it, Will had been there, all the time, just like he’d told her, waiting, watching her from the shadows.

“Finally,” Joyce continued, “I seemed to have suceeded in calming him down, temporarily and noticed he was looking at our painting ‘Christina’s World’ the one you loved so much. I couldn’t help it, I insisted that he take the painting with him, when he finally sobered up enough to leave, and keep it for himself. It seemed to comfort him somehow and I couldn’t stand to see his heart breaking, it made me so sad.”

By the time Joyce had finished, Buffy was crying softly against her chest, clutching onto her Mother’s body like a small, desperate child.

“I screwed up, Mama,” she sobbed rocking in her Mother’s arms, “I could have been contented with a simple, decent life. With a man I could have respected, loved and built a good life with, I just fucked everything up and I’m not sure if it’s fixable.”

“Buffy!” Joyce tsked and cringed at her daughter’s use of the ‘f’ word but then, “everything is fixable, honey,” she advised. “Leave Angel if you have to, do you have any other choice?”

Buffy wiped the tears from her face, “it’s not that simple, Mom,” she sniffed, “Angel isn’t going to let me go without a fight, or something worse.”

Joyce tensed up, but kept stroking her daughter’s hair, “oh,” she whsipered, “I see.”

They sat in silence for a few moments then Buffy finally murmered, “I sold out my happiness and freedom for a ‘name,’ a new car every year and a life’s membership to the Sunnydale Country Club.”

Joyce continued to rock her daughter in her arms, stroking her head tenderly, “oh Buffy,” she sighed in sympathy.

Buffy drove back to the Montecito Inn, slowly, contemplating everything she and her Mother had discussed earlier. As much as she tried to pay attention to her driving, her mind wondered back to something Joyce had said, just before Buffy had left to go back to William.

"What’s the plan?” her Mother had asked.

“Plan?” Buffy wondered aloud. “This is William Giles, Buffy, there has to be a plan to free you from Angel Even if it’s a bad one.”

Apparently, Buffy’s Mother had recognized the kind of man Angel truly was, even before she had. A real monster. Sighing, Buffy flipped on the DeSoto’s radio, wondering if it even worked anymore. It did. William had programmed every button to KROQ, an LA based alternative radio station.

“Figures,” Buffy giggled, happy to hear some music that Will loved so. Her ears perked up when she heard the first strains of tune playing:

(okay, retro plot line here! The Cure’s Lovesong)

‘Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like
I am home again. Whenever I’m alone with you you make
Me feel like I am whole again…..’


Suddenly, Buffy gunned the motor and sped off to get back to the Inn as fast as she could.

“Will!” she called as she hurried into the room, searching for him, frantically.

“Out here, Princess,” he greeted from the little balcony, waving at her. He was smoking a cigarette, dressed only in his regulation black levis. She tossed her purse on the couch and scurried out to join him.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” she panted breathlessly, “it’s important, but I can’t tell you now. It’s gotta’ be just perfect when I do. Maybe at our pond, but somewhere near home, not here in this hotel room, okay?”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him, “okay, baby,” he murmered, “you tell me when your ready.”

Buffy snuggled into him, reluctant to let loose, but she did. “Come on,” she purred, taking him by the hand, “we’ve got some ‘things’ to discuss in the bedroom.”

 

Chapter 31: ‘I’ll Miss You Something Awful!’



Relationships were tough, Buffy ‘Summers’ Travers got that. Even the most forthright, upstanding and ‘normal’ relationships were a pain in the ass to anyone in them. Will’s and hers wasn’t tough; it was rough, hard and past ridiculous; it was sublime.

‘But damn, the love making was great!’ Buffy assured herself, watching Will sleep in the overpriced Inn they were staying at. A sudden thought grasped her and she leaned over to her lover’s ear.

Whispering softly, barely audible, “Will,” she sing-songed. He didn’t stir, just lay there in a dead to the world stance, a smile of contentment on his face. “Willie,” she murmered again, this time adding a little lick of her tongue to said ear. This time, Will made some movement, turning over onto his other side, his back to her. Buffy sighed in frustration.

“William Giles!” she cried, loud enough to wake him and half the hotel, “wake your delicious, sexy British arse up and face me!”

Will bolted up from the bed, his eyes still closed from sleep, “wha, what did I do now?” he stammered. Buffy burst out into laughter from watching her lover clamor around in their borrowed bed, lost in sated sleep and private dreams.

“You shagged me senseless, Mr. William Giles,” she hissed, “then you fell fast asleep and left me here ‘alone’ still horny for some unknown reason and still wanting you.”

He opened his gorgeous blue eyes at that declaration and smirked at her, “still wanting?” he inquired, his naughty, scarred left eyebrow raised in question.

“Still,” Buffy giggled, snuggling down into him.

“Well, bloody hell, Princess,” he chuckled, “we can’t have that, now, can we?”

Buffy entered her house, she was calling it her house now, not her’s and Angel’s home, since neither of them seemed to be there much anymore. At least together.

Checking the phone messages, she found out that her husband hadn’t bothered to call there either, ‘just as well,’ she surmised, ‘I’m past caring to talk to him.’

Will and her had gotten back to Sunnydale fairly early that morning, in time for her to shower again and get ready to go the Gallery for a few hours that afternoon. Later, after work, she was going to Will’s place to be together, something she had begun to look forward to regularly.

She caught a look at herself in the full length mirror of her bedroom, ‘you look good, Buffy,’ she told herself proudly, ‘you look happy for once.’

After she’d stripped down and slipped into a nice warm tub, Buffy relaxed and thought about her conversation with her mother. One of the things that kept coming back to her mind was something her Mom had asked her twice.

“What price is your happiness worth, Buffy,” Joyce had asked her, “what would you sacrifice or suffer through to be happy?”

She stretched out in the large tub, relishing the warm mixture of water and bath oils she’d used.

“Mom’s right,” Buffy whispered, “no price is too great to pay for happiness, or freedom.” Will felt the same way, she knew that and was fully aware that he’d back her leaving Angel tonight if she wanted to. In fact, Will would encourage it.

The problem was, Angel wouldn’t back her, ever, if she decided to leave him; he’d make her and Will’s life a living hell, or worse.

Earlier, Will had mumbled something about a plan he had, him and Clem to convince Angel to let Buffy go, but she hadn’t asked him to expand on it and he’d dropped the subject.

Buffy had become more and more agreeable to getting away from Angel, but a part of her feared him immensely and worried about his reaction to her leaving.

‘What a mess,’ she muttered, dunking her whole upper body into the tepid bath water.

When Buffy finished her bath, she wrapped up in a huge plush towel and padded out into her bedroom to prepare for work.

She found Angel sitting on the comfort chair she’d bought from Saks, years before.

“Angel!” she gasped, startled, “you frightened me!”

Angel laughed heartily, “sorry, babe. Just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to give you a scare.”

Buffy became agitated, but tried to cover it, “thought you were staying in LA until tomorrow,” she stammered, pawing through her wardrobe for an appropriate work outfit.

“I finished early, decided to pack Dawnie up and drag her home a day early,” he explained, coming up behind her and wrapping his huge arms about her.

“I’m late for work,” she mumbled quickly, pulling away from him and carrying her black pant suit to the bed.

“Oh, right, your job,” he muttered, obviously cut by her indifference to his presence.

“Anyway,” he sighed dramatically, “I’m home and I was wondering, could we go out for dinner tonight, just you and me babe?”

What could Buffy say or do? Of course she had to go with whatever her husband wanted at this point, even if it meant disappointing the man she…..’

“Sure,” she murmered, pulling on the pants of her suit, “we can go out.” Hurrying about, getting ready for work, Buffy blatantly avoided any physical contact with Angel, something she was sure he noticed. She was dressed and now sat on her little vanity chair, brushing out her long golden locks.

“Where are we going for dinner?” she asked trying to feign interest.

“The club,” he stated simply, already searching about the bedroom for the Saturday Wall Street Journal. “Hopefully we won’t see anyone there that wants to join us for dinner,” he grumbled, finally finding his precious paper.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “hopefully not.”

The minute she got to the Gallery, Buffy dialed Will on her cell phone.

“Buffy?” he asked, concern in his voice. “I can’t see you tonight, Will,” she whispered, glancing around her boss’s private office. “Angel came home early, he wants to go to dinner tonight……I’m so sorry.” He didn’t say anything for a minute or so then, “I know you are, Princess, I’m sorry too. I’ll miss you something awful.”

Buffy thought for a minute then murmered, “I really, really……will miss you and can’t wait to see you again. Please believe that.”

This seemed to placate Will and Buffy clicked off her phone. “It’s going to be a long evening,” she stated out loud, ignoring the funny look Olivia gave her when she entered her own office.

Buffy went through the motions that night. At the ‘Club’ during dinner, she pretended to listen to Angel and even be somewhat interested in what he had to yammer on about. However, her thoughts kept going back to Will and what she wanted to tell him, in person that is.

“Anyway,” Angel was rambling on, while shoveling filet mignon into his mouth, “I closed the deal early in LA. Course that’s no big deal, I’m the number one guy at the firm, you know Buff? Buff?” he repeated, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Yes!” she cried, bolting up in her chair, “you’re number one with a bullet, Angel. I know.”

He smiled at her warmly, “you’re looking great, Buffy,” he said, rewarding her with a roguish wink, as if he hadn’t seen her in years. “In fact,” he added, gulping his whiskey, “you look better then you have in ages. I’m beginning to think this ‘job’ of yours is doing you some real good.”

‘Doing being the key word here, and not job wise,’ she mused, trying not to laugh out loud.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that I let you go back to work,” Angel reasoned, “I mean, you look great and at least you’re not nagging me about babies that we’re not ready for.”

That did it, Buffy was getting ready to go ballistic any second, but pushed the urge back down, “yeah,” she smirked, “you’re right Angel, neither one of us is ready for children.” Then she let the subject drop and concentrated on her Cordon Bleu.

That night at home, Buffy rushed up to their bedroom and quickly washed up for bed, hoping that her husband would become caught up in some sports program on ESPN or even paperwork from the office. It was getting to the point that Buffy could not stand for Angel to touch her in any way, shape or form.

Once again, she saw the green light of Angel’s private line flash on her receiver and stealthly picked up the phone, holding her hand over the mouthpiece.

She jumped when she heard Will’s voice on the other end of the line, “it’s done,” he stated simply.

“Good,” Angel responded, “about time. And, Spike,” he continued, “make sure that all the ‘t’s’ are crossed and the ‘I’s’ dotted, kapish?” No answer. “Kapish?” Angel asked again.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Peaches,” William responded. Silence.

“Hey,” Angel chuckled sarcastically, “I’d think a big stud like you would be out, hunting pussy tonight, being Saturday and all, what’s up, Spikey, dry spell?”

Again, silence then Will spoke, “I’ve found someone, Peaches, a wonderful woman. But then again, you wouldn’t know a wonderful woman if she came up and bit you on your arse, would you?”

Angel chuckled loudly, “oh shit, stop the presses, Spike’s in love.”

More silence and Buffy held her breath.

“By the way, Angel, how’s your gorgeous wife?” Angel didn’t respond right away and Buffy strained to hear any kind of breath or reaction.

“My wife, Spike,” Angel finally said, “is no concern of yours. Just remember that, she hasn’t been your concern for over ten years and she’s not now. Besides, she could care less if you died in a alley, no, make that a filthy gutter.”

William chuckled and said “night, Peaches,” then hung up. When Angel came up to bed, Buffy did her best to pretend to be asleep.

On Sunday, Buffy slipped out of her marital bed early in the morning, before Angel could wake up. She pulled on her pretty little pink silk robe and wandered into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

‘Wonder what Will’s doing?’ she pondered, a bit insecure.

“There’s not been anyone since we got together, Princess,” he had assured her; she believed him.

“Will,” she whispered to the empty air, tears threatening in her eyes, “there’s not been ‘anyone’ for me either, promise.”

Buffy hoped against hope that Angel would leave for the day, go play golf or something, anything to give her a moment’s time to herself; time to collect her thoughts and feelings. Pouring a cup of hot Starbucks brewed coffee for herself, she sat at the kitchen table and mulled over the heavy thoughts that invaded her mind.

“Buff,” Angel called out to her an hour later while she sipped her third cup of coffee on the patio. “I’ve got some business to take care of, gotta go, but I’ll be back about 5:00 tonight. That okay?” He looked so damned innocent, her husband, all scrubbed and flushed from his shower, wearing the Levis she’d bought him just a couple of months ago.

Buffy shrugged indifferently and concentrated on her Sunday Times crossword, “whatever,” she quipped at him.

‘Business, I’ll just bet it’s business,’ she grumbled to herself, “Chase business!” “Have a nice day,” she sang as he strode out to the garage and his beloved Mercedes. “Oh, and Angel,” she added, “I’m going to the Gallery for a few this afternoon, see you later tonight.”

Buffy listened intently while her boss, Olivia, explained some details of an art purchase she was going to make in Chicago.

“It’s really important, Buffy,” Olivia said with her musical accent, a mix of British upper crust and Jamaican overtones. “This art sale in London could be a great boon to the Gallery, much like the one your Mother secured before she left here.”

With a nod of her golden head, Buffy assured Olivia that she understood exactly what she was saying. Olivia was going to Chicago to purchase some pieces, Buffy was to keep things going on the straight and even here at the Sunnydale Gallery. Due to the tuteledge of Olivia, Buffy should have no problem in dealing with anything that came up while her mentor was gone.

Olivia was in her office, finishing up some last minute details before she went on her four day buying trip to Chicago. Buffy was tidying up some paper work and cataloging some new Gallery purchases. This was nothing unusual or out of the ordinary for either of them, although this was the first real business trip that Olivia would be taking since Buffy joined the Gallery. While she sifted through the voluminous amount of mail that the Gallery got daily, Buffy seperated each and every piece into their proper stacks. Junk, advertisements, requests and even endowment suggestions, last but not least……personal mail.

A plain white envelope caught Buffy’s eye, one addressed to her, solely, via the Gallery. She plucked it up and in one swift movement, opened the unobvious envelope.

When she read the paper inside, what it said and implicated? Buffy was immediately spiraled into a state of shock.

On simple lined paper, the kind an elementary school student would use, was printed the five letter word:

WHORE!

In bold, black letters.
 

Next