Chapter 38: ‘Confrontations’


A/N: This is a really long chapter, in fact it’s in two parts and I’m rating it NC-17 for language and sexual violence. This is the chapter where Angel really gets ugly, however, I have toned it down from it’s original concept, just couldn’t make it ‘that ugly.’ Thanks for reading, luv, Spuf





They made love as much as they could, taking time to explore each other’s bodies over and over again. William and Buffy remapped each other’s bodies, every curve and muscle, every inch of flesh they could, with their hands and mouths. Finally, sated from sex and exhausted from their emotions, they fell asleep wrapped in each others arms.

After spending over thirty-six hours in that room together, making love, eating and just talking to each other, Buffy and William discovered more about each other and themselves then ever before. Will woke up first from their ‘nap’ he lay propped up on his left elbow, watching Buffy sleep on, wrapped up in her dream world.

Suddenly, without warning, she flinched in her sleep and cried out, “Angel, No!” causing Spike to cringe.

‘What the hell?’ he asked himself, giving in to the urge to wake her from her troubled rest, ‘great, she’s dreamin’ about that wanker!’

He knew that wasn’t fair on his part, Buffy was married to the fuck after all, and by all accounts, this was not a particularly nice dream for her.

“Buffy,” he whispered urgently, trying to wake her, “Buffy, wake up Princess, you’re havin’ a bad dream.”

Buffy’s eyes flew open and she bolted up in bed, her body trembling all over.

“Oh, Will,” she gasped, clinging to him in fear, “I had the most awful dream. Angel came after us, here, right this morning, Will. He shot you, killed you dead!”

She knew it was a nightmare, nothing more, but it had terrified her, it seemed so very real to her.

“He found out about us, Xander told him and then he came here and shot you, right in front of me.”

Grasping onto his body, still trembling like a leaf in the wind, she began to cry softly, “I couldn’t save you, Will,” she whispered harshly, I tried, but I was too late.”

William began to stroke her, almost cooing to her, telling her it was alright and that Angel had not found out about them.

“When he does, Buffy,” he murmered in her ear, soothingly, “it won’t matter anymore, we’ll be free of him once and for all.”

Buffy wanted to believe him, she loved him and he loved her, all of her feelings for Angel were gone, well, except the contempt she now held her husband in.

“How are we going to be free of him, Will?” she asked with wide serious eyes.

That was when Will told her all about his plan.

When it came time for Buffy to go home to her dreary prison of a house, it was harder then hard, it was near impossible for her to leave. For both Spike and her; he did not want her to go.

On Sunday afternoon, when it was impossible for her to stay any longer without alerting Angel, Buffy reluctantly showered again and got dressed slowly. Even in the shower, with him, Spike could feel her fear about going home, facing that moron she was married to.

‘God I hate that prick!’ he hissed silently, watching her gather her things up and repack the little overnight case. He just hated the fact that she was going home to ‘him’ the bane of his existence and now, hers. Spike knew in his heart, without even asking Buffy, that she avoided any physical contact with Angel, always, anyway she could accomplish it, and he was thankful for that. The thought of that bloody fuck touching his Buffy made him physically ill, as it had for years.

She had finished gathering and packing her few things, when she suddenly pushed the little bag aside and leapt back on the bed to rejoin him, “I love you!” she cried desperately, pulling him into her embrace.

“Oh, luv,” he moaned just as desperately, “I love you so much,” his arms were like a vice on her, encircling her tiny body, nearly squishing her.

“I’m going to hate going home, Will,” Buffy whispered even as he peppered little kisses on her face and lips. “I hate it there, at that damn tomb I claim to live in. Do it, Will, ruin Angel, bring him down and get him out of our lives. I don’t think I can stand to look at him any more.”

She began to cry softly, burying her head into his bare chest and soaking his warm flesh with her even warmer tears.

“I’ll take care of Angel, Princess,” Spike whispered back to her as he stroked her golden hair and warm, wet cheeks. “Don’t you worry, baby,” he added with a smirk, “Angel won’t be able to hurt us or anyone else, I promise.”

She nodded against his chest, snuggling down into him even closer then before, “make love to me?” she half-asked/ half-ordered him, gazing up into his eyes, lovingly.

“God, Buffy, you don’t even have to ask me that.” He quickly began to undress her.

Finally, when Buffy couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer, Will drove her to Willow and Tara’s apartment where she had left her car for the weekend. Will clasped her to him, kissing her passionately before letting her get into her car to drive home.

“I love you, Buffy,” he called softly as she sat in the driver’s seat, “love you too,” she responded meeting his gaze and smiling.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?”

He nodded and stared at her wistfully, waiting until Buffy had pulled out of the apartment parking lot and gotten to the end of the block to leave.

“I hope to God that Angel isn’t home,” she thought to herself driving fairly fast towards her house, “I don’t think I can bear to see him right now.”

As if God had heard her, Buffy noticed that Angel’s car was missing from their driveway when she pulled into it.

“Thank you, God,” she mumbled, turning off the ignition and grabbing her overnight bag. Jenny and Maggie’s cars were also missing from the driveway, which was odd, they weren’t supposed to take this weekend off.

“Wonder where they are?” Buffy asked herself out loud, then shrugged and went inside her empty house.

It was summertime, so the light outside was more then enough to illuminate most of the big old house, but it was strange, it still seemed so ‘dark’ inside.

Buffy felt a shiver go up her spine as she entered through the back door and headed through the kitchen on her way upstairs to the bedroom. Suddenly, without warning, Angel’s deep voice boomed from the front room of the house, scaring the life out of Buffy.

“Hey, Buff,” Angel greeted her loudly, “welcome home.”

She dropped the overnight bag on the kitchen floor and reluctantly shuffled into the living room, confused as to how Angel was here when his car wasn’t. Angel was sitting on the living room couch, wearing only a pair of Levi jeans and drinking from a very large tumbler, ‘whiskey’ Buffy figured.

“Hey Angel,” she responded weakly, slowing her steps down to a crawl, “where’s the Mercedes?”

He didn’t even turn around to look at her, just shrugged his massive shoulders, took another gulp of his drink and said evenly, “the shop.”

‘Oh,’ she nodded silently, “it’s almost 5:30, Ang,” she noted, changing the subject, “have you eaten anything? Where’s Jenny and Maggie?”

“I gave them time off for good behavior,” Angel snorted with a chuckle, “and no, I haven’t eaten. I’ll make a sandwich for myself in a little while. I’d rather drink my meal anyway right now,” he explained, taking another sip of his drink.

Buffy felt the uneasy feeling that had started the minute she realized Angel was indeed home rise up from her stomach to her throat. She was finding it very hard to say anything or breathe evenly for that matter.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” she asked quietly, trying to ‘seem’ interested in what was obviously bothering him.

“I’m just tired, Buffy,” he responded in the same monotone, “I’m just tired and I guess a little worried, maybe.”

Now she was getting downright scared, Angel never worried about anything like this, no, he ranted and raved or threw something if he was really worried about business or money? Anything, but not like this.

“Worried?” she asked evenly, “about what?”

“Nothing that should concern you right now, babe,” he responded his voice barely above a whisper.

Buffy tried to change the subject again, make some kind of polite conversation, “my Mom’s doing real well, Angel,” she offered up, “she’s really happy with this Ted guy and…..”

Angel interrupted her, “that’s just peachy keen there Buff,” he snapped sarcastically. “As long as Mom’s doin’ great the world is just fucking fine, huh?”

Buffy’s attitude went from polite to angry in two seconds, “well she is my Mother, Angel. I think you’d be the slightest bit interested in what she’s doing or how she’s doing. God, Angel, do you ever even think of anyone but yourself?”

She turned, without letting him finish, and headed towards the kitchen to grab her bag and hurry upstairs, not noticing that he’d stood up and followed her.

“Buffy!” he shouted, grabbing her arm and spinning her around, “I’m more interested in the what hell you’re up to. So drop the self-righteous ‘I love my Mommy’ act, it doesn’t become you sweetheart.”

With Angel so close to her now, Buffy could really tell just how much he’d been drinking that day; it was a lot.

“Angel,” she began trying to calm her voice down even though she was beginning to be really frightened for some reason. “I don’t know what’s bothering you,” though she had a pretty good idea, “but I think we should just not talk to each other right now. Anymore, whenever we talk we seem to argue and I’m tired, I’ve got a headache….”

Angel rolled his huge chocolate brown eyes and smirked, “you’re always tired, babe and you’ve always got a God damned headache anymore. You know,” he continued in mock concern, “you really need to get to a Doctor about those, I’m starting to get worried.”

She didn’t look into those dark eyes of his, Buffy had caught the sarcasm in his tone and decided to pull away from him; get away from him.

Rubbing her arm where Angel had held it so tightly, Buffy shook her head slightly, “I’m going to go take a bath, you just eat your damn sandwich down here, by yourself. I’m not going to eat, I’m not hungry.”

She turned her back to him and began to walk away, but he grabbed her again, this time by the shoulders.

“You don’t walk away from me you little bitch!” he growled slamming her back against his chest and stomache and wrapping his huge arms around her like a vice. “You’re my fucking wife! I want to talk to you right now. And when I want to talk to you, we talk! You got that Buff?”

Buffy struggled against him to pull away, but Angel was just too damn strong for her, so she finally gave up and tried to relax in his embrace.

“Let’s just go sit on our nice, expensive, comfy couch and have a real heart to heart, babe,” he purred in her ear, “damn, you make a guy feel like he’s not loved anymore. And you love me don’t you babe? I mean, everybody loves me, right?”

Pulling her along with him to their couch, Angel pushed Buffy, not too gently onto it then sat down beside her, his huge hands holding her in place. Buffy’s inner voice began to speak to her:

“Tell him, Summers,” it ordered firmly, “tell him that not only do you no longer love him, you can’t stand the sight of him. It’s the perfect time to ask for a divorce, he’s drunk, yeah, stupid drunk! Tell him what a worthless, ruthless and cheating piece of shit you know he really is!”

Buffy opened her mouth to let the words come out, but when she looked him in his eyes, she lost her nerve. Angel was past angry at this point, he was going on enraged and she was more frightened then before.

“Yeah, that’s right, Ang,” she said evenly, not looking at him again, “everybody loves you.”

He shot her a smug smile, “that’s right,” he nodded his head, “I’m the most loved guy in Sunnydale, huh, sweetheart?”

She knew that trying to reason with Angel when he’d been drinking like this was useless, so she just nodded her head back at him and focused her stare on the coffee table in front of them.

“You’ve been real distant lately, babe,” he slurred as he scrutinized her, “real distant. I mean, even before you got that two-bit job of yours, you were pulling away from me, emotionally, physically.”

Angel chuckled softly and shook his head, “almost makes a guy think you’re not being up front with him. Maybe you’re fucking around on him or something, you know?”

Buffy didn’t say a word, just kept staring at the coffee table.

“But then again,” he continued, gulping his drink down and pouring more from the decanter on the coffee table, “I just know how faithful you are. After all, I paid someone to follow you around for weeks, checking up on you.”

He paused and stared at her, ‘he’s clocking me for my reaction,’ she told herself, ‘play it right, Summers.’

“You had me followed!” she cried with indignation, “checked up on!”

Angel shrugged and took another drink of his whiskey, “well, yeah. But of course you passed that test with flying colors, huh babe?”

“So you had me followed? Why Angel?” she asked, hoping her false sense of self-righteous indignation would convince her husband that she had no clue of any of this crap.

“Again,” he sighed with a light chuckle, “that I did, babe. And, happily for all of us, I found out you are truly the paragon of virtue that everyone always ‘thought’ you were. Which, is very lucky for you, wife of mine because if it had turned out any differently, I’d have broken your lovely sleek little neck. And you have such a beautiful, silky throat and neck, sweetheart, it’d be a shame to break it in two over some stupid dalliance on your part, wouldn’t it?”

Buffy sat stock still, trying to keep calm, trying to breathe evenly, she thought she was pulling it off and then Angel continued.

“Of course, I’d have gone after the stupid fuck that ever had the nerve to get involved with Angel Traver’s wife, put his filthy hands on you. In fact, I’d slice him into pieces, preferably in front of you, pre- neck breaking of course. I think I’d start with his balls and….”

Buffy stood up abruptly, “I get it, Angel,” she stated evenly, surprised at the calm in her voice, “I cheat, I die and everyone around me? Right?”

Angel looked up at her, his eyes were narrowed into slits of cocoa brown and yellow flecks of anger, “right,” he muttered harshly, “but we don’t have to worry about that do we, darling?”

‘No’ Buffy shook her head, “we don’t have to worry about that, Angel,” she answered as he pulled her back down on the couch.

Angel took another gulp of his drink and eyed her again, taking in the jean mini-skirt and light pink sweater she wore.

“You look good again, Buffy,” he smiled at her as he spoke, “your Mom must have fed you well. I guess your ‘illness’ is gone, huh?”

She nodded silently and again focused on the coffee table, anything other then to look him in those angry eyes of his.

Finally, Buffy folded her little hands together in her lap and got up the nerve to look Angel in the face, “Angel?” she began meekly, “can I ask you something?”

He continued to stare at her, the smug smile still in place, “of course, you’re my adoring wife, right? You can ask me anything.”

Buffy nodded again, swallowed hard and asked defiantly, “what if I had done what you just threatened me with?”

‘Huh’ Angel seemed to ask with his eyes, which were suddenly filled with confusion.

“I mean,” Buffy seemed to find her courage with each word, “what if I had gone after you and that Chase ‘ho’ when I found out about your little sexcapades?”

End of Chapter 38; Part I


(Chapter 38; Part II begins immediately following this!)


Chapter 38: Part II



Buffy jutted her chin out bravely, okay, false bravado maybe, but she felt like she had to do it. If nothing more, it might wipe that smug smirk off of her arrogant husband’s stupid face.

“What?” Angel shook his head as if to clear his alcohol addled mind, “you know about me and Faith Chase?”

Buffy just stared at Angel in shock, “you and Faith?” she stammered, too stunned to say any more for the time being.

Angel looked like a trapped rat, his dark eyes were wild with something Buffy recognized as fear, or was it guilt?

“I,” he stammered himself, “how did you know about Faith and me?”

She just sat and stared for a minute or so, then Buffy burst out in hysterical laughter. “Faith!” she chortled, “Faith and Cordelia? My God, Angel, you getting a family rate now?”

She thought she heard him say something akin to ‘mother fucking hell’ but she couldn’t be sure; Buffy was too caught up in the sublime ridiculousness of this whole scene.

“How did you know about Cordy?” Angel whimpered, looking more like a whipped puppy then ever.

“Caught you two,” she stopped laughing long enough to explain, “a few months ago, fucking on the $15,000.00 antique I picked out so painstakingly for your Christmas present last year. Instead of causing a scene right in your office, or bitch slapping your whore around Sunnydale, I left unannounced and came home to cry it out.”

Angel sat looking at his huge, rather ugly hands, silent as a grave for a moment at least.

“Buffy,” he whispered, not bothering to look at her this time, “I don’t love Faith, don’t love Cordy. I love you, I want you the most. They’re just play things, nothing real or important or even….”

Buffy held up her hand to him, “don’t!” she hissed, “don’t. I don’t want to hear your lame ass explainations or your manly excuses, I’m tired and sick and I just don’t care right now, Angel.”

She tried to stand up to leave, but her husband yanked her back down.

“It’s your fault, Buffy!” he whined, instantly disgusting her with his weakness, “if you were more adventerous in bed then I wouldn’t have had to go to Cordelia or Faith.”

Buffy gasped in shock again, “Good God, Angel, don’t put this on me. Our life in that way was fine until I caught you fucking Queen Bitch Cordelia on your desk. And Faith, for the record, I had no idea about her. What’s wrong, Cordy dump you for Riley Finn and you moved down on the evolution scale to her even skankier little sister?”


Buffy realized right off that she had made a severe error in judgement and her choice of words.

“At least those ‘skanks’ as you put it are willing to give me what I want, Buff,” he hissed angrily. “Maybe if you played hot and nasty with me, I’d stick around more and fuck you regularly. I’d give them up tomorrow, all of them, just play nice with me. Would you like that better, babe?”

She tried to pull her arm away from his rough hand, but he held tight, “I mean,” he purred, “what if we did it, right here and now? I’m ‘up’ for it, how about you?”

Buffy again tried to pull away from him, but failed miserably, “I’m supposed to have sex with you now, Angel?” she asked stunned by his nerve, “after I’ve just called you out on your infidelity? I wouldn’t fuck you now if….”

He yanked her closer to him until their faces were just inches apart, “okay,” he growled, “so you wouldn’t like it better, who gives a fuck? I’ll just take it, I am your husband, right, Buffy? Who can deny that I have the right to ‘have’ you anytime I want?”

She glared at him in horror, “take me; have me? You have ‘no’ rights over me, Angel Travers, this isn’t about sex or love or anything having to do with them.”

“Oh, it’s got everything to do with sex, love and want, Buffy darling,” he chuckled wickedly, “I’m your husband, you’re my wife, there is no taking in this. I want, I take and you give to me, it’s that simple. In fact, precious,” he whispered in her ear, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted you more then right this minute.”

He began to paw at her, pulling her little sweater up and trying to pin her to the back of the couch.

“Get your filthy hands off of me!” she cried frantically, pushing at him.

Angel ignored her protests and tumbled off the couch onto the floor, kicking the coffee table away from them in the tussle.

“Angel, dammit!” she cried again desperately, “I don’t want to, leave me alone!”

But he just laughed and flipped her underneath his massive body, pinning her to the floor beneath him, “come on Buff,” he taunted her, “you have to admit, rough is a real turn on. Lighten up and enjoy!”

With that, he tugged her jean skirt up over her hips and ripped her thong off of her, at the same time he used his right hand to unzip his own jeans and yank them down past his knees.

“Angel! No! This is rape, Angel!” she screamed, knowing full well that he was past listening to her and sadly aware that no one else could hear her.

“Yes! And for the record, baby, a husband can’t rape his own wife!” he gasped as he slammed his cock into her, even though she wasn’t at all ready for him and never would be again.

As she struggled against him, he pummeled into her and tried to kiss her face and neck. Buffy fought him best as she could, but the sad truth was Angel was twice her size and weight and much stronger then her and the more she struggled against him, the more he seemed to get excited by it.

Just before he came inside of her, slamming down on her hips and thighs, surely leaving bruises, Angel gasped something about Buffy still being the hottest piece of ass in Sunnydale and bit down on the place where her right shoulder and lower neck met. She felt her warm blood seep out into his mouth and tried not to cry out in pain and humiliation.

“Mine!” he cried in triumph as he came, causing her pain deep within her body. “You are mine!” he panted as he tried to calm himself from his orgasm, collapsing on her tiny frame.

Buffy could only lie there torn and bruised, beaten down and defeated.

When Angel had calmed himself down enough, he rolled off of Buffy and onto his back on the floor with a groan. Buffy took the opportunity to slide away from him and shakily stand up, trying not to fall back down next to him on their carpet.

She stumbled towards the downstairs bathroom where she slammed the door behind her and locked it. Trying to forget about her absolute horror of a husband lying on their living room floor, Buffy turned on the shower, making sure the water was good and hot.

For the next forty minutes, she scrubbed the filth and ugliness of the last hour and half from her body, trying not to think on things too much. When she exited the bathroom, Angel was sitting on the couch, his head thrown on the back of the couch, eyes half closed.

Apparently he had cleaned up and gotten dressed before he returned to the scene of the crime and Buffy noticed the overnight bag next to his feet.

“Buffy?” he mumbled, not looking at her, “I need to….”

She hurried to the stairs to head to their bedroom, a towel wrapped around her damp body.

“Buffy, wait!” he called again.

Buffy stopped mid stairwell and kept her back to him, “what?” she asked mechanically.

“I’m going to stay at the ‘Club’ for tonight, maybe tomorrow night. I think we need to be apart for a couple of days, think about things. Heal.”

She turned slowly and looked down at him, thinking how she had never hated anyone quite so much as she did him, right this minute.

“Yeah,” she whispered in a strained voice, “I think you should move to the ‘Club’ maybe even make it your permenant residence for a while, huh Angel?”

‘Smart man Angel,’ she thought with a strange smirk, ‘I wouldn’t want to go to sleep around me either if I was you, not tonight anyway.’

“Buffy, I….” He began, standing up, but she turned back around and headed up the stairs, “I love you Buffy,” he called. “I’ll call you in a couple of days. We’ll both be cooled off then, we’ll fix this.”

Buffy never answered him back.

She waited, up in her bedroom at her little vanity table; waited for the sound of their jeep going down the driveway. Angel opened the garage door and took off in the jeep, screeching out of the driveway and off down the street.

‘Always with the big entrances and exits, huh Angel?’ she shook her head sadly and began to brush her long damp hair slowly. When she looked in the vanity mirror, she noticed that the bite mark on her neck had already turned ugly and bluish in color.

“Probably will scar slightly,” she shrugged almost indifferently, “who gives a rat’s ass now?”

Setting her brush down on the table, Buffy reached for her cell phone and dialed Will’s number, “please, please answere Will,” she pleaded in a whisper.

His deep voice came on, “Buffy? You okay, Princess?” he asked gently.

‘Thank God for modern technology and caller ID,’ she thought, feeling the tears start to spill from her eyes.

“Will?” she whispered weakly.

“Buffy, what’s wrong? Something’s wrong,” William began to sound panicked, “where are you, baby?” he asked frantically.

“Will, I need to see you, talk to you and hold you, can I…” but she couldn’t finish.

“Buffy, where are you, what is it?” he began to really sound scared now.

“I’m at home, it’s Angel, Will,” she choked out, “he kind of hurt me and….”

Will screamed over the phone, “I’m coming over there, I’ll fucking tear that prick apart if he hit you!”

Buffy began to panic even more herself, “no! You can’t come here, Will! Angel, he’s not here now, Will,” she tried to explain through her tears, embarrassed by her weakness.

“He left, went to stay somewhere for the night, please Will, can I just come to your place. I need you and I need…”

William interrupted her, “of course you can, but I don’t think you should drive that far baby. Let me come to that little mall right down the street from your neighborhood. I’ll meet you there, but you have to promise me you’ll be alright, Princess. Okay? Just promise me you’ll be okay until you get there,or I swear to God I’ll come over there and I don’t give a fuck which one of your neighbors sees me!”

Buffy agreed to meet him close by, he was right, she probably wouldn’t make it to his place on her own. She was too messed up, physically, mentally and emotionally. After all, her own husband had just raped her.
 

Chapter 39: ‘Warm Comfort’


A/N: A real short chapter for me! Sigh, I am continuing this fic longer then intended (again!).

Spike raced to the little mall down the street from Buffy’s house, trying to stay calm, but failing miserably.

‘Buffy’s in trouble,’ he told himself worriedly, ‘if that fucking loser hit her or anything else, I’ll rip his bloody heart out of him. Fuck the ‘plan’ and everything else!’

His heart raced in his chest and he could almost hear it’s beating as he pulled into the mall parking lot, spying Buffy right away. Buffy stood by her little red car, dwarfed, as usual, even by it’s compact size, but from his Harley? Spike could see, something was more then wrong with her.

She didn’t just lean on the Camaro, she slumped onto it in defeat, like all of the spirit had gone out of her. Just like a boxer, the one’s Rupert used to take him to see. A defeat boxer who just realized he wasn’t going to win this round. He pulled up next to her and leapt off the bike, pulling her to him in one fell sweep.

“Buffy!” he cried desperately, immediately noticing the ugly bite mark that swelled just where her gorgeous neck and silky shoulder met.

Buffy didn’t respond to Spike’s desperate greeting, she was too ashamed, whether she should be or not. She had purposely not covered the ugly swelling bite mark Angel had inflicted on her, what was the point? Will would see it sooner or later, and something inside of Buffy wanted Will to notice her husband’s mark. Maybe if it was just to let the man she really loved know that she hadn’t gone down without a fight and had come out with battle scars.

Will pulled back from Buffy, gently touching the bite, his expression a mix of confusion and pain, “what did he do, Princess?” he asked her softly, pulling her chin up so her eyes could meet his.

“He…”she choked out cautiously, “he hurt me, Will,” she finally admitted. “Angel, he did something awful, there’s more marks, bruises really, down lower.”

Buffy looked down at her hip and thigh area, again too ashamed to meet her lover’s concerned gaze.

“Mother Fucker!” William screamed, ignoring the few mall patrons that were milling about in the parking lot. “I’ll kill that bloody fucker!” he added, illiciting more then one or two concerned looks from onlookers.

Buffy loved William Giles, she knew it before this, of course, had admitted it to him, her Mother and her best girlfriends, but right now? Right at this moment she realized it more then ever.

‘I love this man,’ she told herself, burying her face back into his strong chest, ‘I love him and nothing ugly Angel or anyone else does will ever take me away from him again. All the vicious acts in the world can’t change what he and I have together.’

She knew she could not let herself be so traumatized by what had happened between her and Angel that she would turn Will away or push him away again. Will’s strong arms embraced her tightly and Buffy could feel his inner anger within those arms that held her so close to him.

He was literally trembling with rage, “where is he?” he choked out harshly. “Where is the fucking bastard, I’ll kill him, Buffy, I mean it!”

Buffy took a deep breath and tried to focus on this time and place, not earlier when her husband had hurt her so viciously.

“Will,” she whispered, “if you go after Angel ‘now’ if you hurt him, whether he deserves it or not? “He’ll win. I’ll lose you William, I couldn’t bear it if I lost you now, not after we just found each other again.”

“I can’t let him get away with this, Buffy,” he growled lowly, his body shaking more then before, “where is he?”

She shook her head into his chest, “you promised never to leave me, didn’t you?” she whimpered.

Spike didn’t answer right away. He had promised Buffy that he would never leave her, that was true, but this, now? How was he supposed to be a man, to himself, to Buffy to God if he didn’t go avenge his woman against the monster she had mistakenly married?

“He doesn’t have the right to force you, Buffy,” Spike hissed, pulling her chin up to meet his gaze again. The pain in her emerald green eyes broke his heart. “I don’t care if he’s Angel ‘fucking big shot’ Travers or your husband, he doesn’t have the right to hurt you like this. Especially after all of the emotional crap he’s put you through.

“Where is he?” he asked her again, trying to remain calm, but he was who he was after all.

“He said he was going to the Club, for a couple of nights to stay, but God only knows where he really went. I mean,” she actually chuckled sarcastically, “he’s probably got more then two or three places to hide out. Coward that he is.”

‘Yeah, he’s a fucking coward alright,’ he echoed silently, ‘I’ll strangle him with my own hands when I get the chance.’ But for the moment, Spike just held Buffy to him in a vice like grip and stroked her golden hair.

Buffy hated herself for the crying, her weakness, but she was so mixed up emotionally that she couldn’t help it.

“Will,” she murmered hoarsely, “I think we should go to your place now, kay? I mean, if you’ll just follow me in my car, at least to the city limits. I’ll dump the Camaro and go with you back home.”

Funny how Buffy thought of Will’s place as her home now and as if he read her mind, he whispered to her, “yeah, we’ll go home, baby. And Buffy,” he added firmly looking her straight in the eyes, “you’re not going back to that Travers’ prison, I won’t have it!”

She nodded in resignation, “no, I won’t go back, not until it’s time for me to pack up and leave for good.”

William kissed the top of her head then opened her car door, “follow me,” he ordered softly, taking charge thankfully. Buffy did as she was told, for once, following him to the city limits, near a cemetary (Sunnydale was just full of cemetaries) and ditching her Camaro in the outside parking area. Then she climbed onto the back of his Harley and held tight to him, her man, the only real man in her life at the moment.

When they got to his apartment, the first thing William did was dial Clem on his cell phone.

“Give the Sunnydale Boys the file on Councilman Smythe,” Buffy heard him tell his friend, even as she stripped down and settled on his couch.

“The police might be interested to know just what Angel Travers and his good buddy Xander Harris have to do with kickbacks, payoffs and oh yeah, the laws they broke in the zoning ordinances, don’t you think mate?”

Buffy raised an inquisitive eye to her lover, “Xander? What did he do, besides be a first rate prick?”

Will chuckled as he flopped down next to Buffy, taking her in his arms, “he’s more then a prick, Princess, he’s in Angel’s illegal business, up to his neck. Which, by the way,” he added with a smirk, “I intend on breaking the first chance I get.”

She snuggled close to him, trying not to let the evenings events ruin their moment together.

“The hell with them,” she murmered, cuddling into Will’s arms, “all’s I care about right now is us and this.”

William kissed the top of her head again, he was good at the comfort nuzzling; first thing Buffy ever noticed about him was that.

“Like I told you, luv,” he whispered, running his slim fingers down her bare arms, “you’re not going back to that fucking asylum again. Not unless it’s to pack and escape it, permenantly!”

Buffy giggled softly at first, but then her gaze fell to the bruises her husband had put on her just hours before. “I’m sorry, Will,” she whispered sadly, trying not to cry like a baby for once, “I tried to make him stop but…..”

Spike clasped her even more tightly to him, “shhhh, it’s okay, baby,” he cooed, “you’re my girl, now and from now on. Do you think that anything some bloody monster like Angel does could take you from me? Now or ever? Don’t think so.”

He gave a half-smile and cuddled her even closer, careful not to push the physical contact between them.

‘No telling what this has done to her, poor thing,’ he reasoned, ‘I have to control my own desires, make her feel safe and secure with me. If we don’t make love for….’

But the thought of not having Buffy that way made him so sad that he wanted to cry for them both.

“Can we go lie down in our bed?” she asked softly with a warm blush that he could feel against his cheek.

He was so thrilled that Buffy had called his bed ‘theirs’ that he could only nod and pick her up in his arms. “Course we can, baby,” he whispered, carrying her into the bedroom, “I love you Buffy, I want you and need you. If you want to just rest together in bed, talk, that’s enough for me.”

Buffy was clad only in her little demi-bra and a thong, ‘not helping with the lust issue, Princess,’ Spike told her, in his own mind.

She reached out to him, beckoning him into her long slim arms. Spike slipped out of his tee shirt and jeans, leaving only his boxers on.

When he snuggled down into Buffy’s embrace, he tried to not expose his hard on to her, ‘not what she needs Spike,’ he told himself firmly, ‘she needs comfort, not sex right now.’

If what Buffy needed was warm comfort, then that is just what Spike would give her. He ran his hands over her cheeks and neck, kissed her forehead and nose, then her neck, praying she didn’t cringe, ‘don’t let her flinch, please, please,’ he begged his omnipresent God.

Buffy buried her face into his chest again, purring against his skin. For some reason, this gave Spike the courage to run his lips along the ugly bite mark Angel had inflicted on her, “do you mind this, baby?” he asked softly, gazing into her huge green eyes.

She shook her head gently and he continued his quest down her chest, passing her breasts (reluctantly) and running his mouth down to her hips to the God awful bruises that had already begun to form there. Skimming them gently, tenderly, Spike tried to soothe the pain he knew they must be causing to Buffy, physically and emotionally.




Chapter 40: ‘I Know We’ll Be Okay’


Summary: Some old Spuffy enemies and friends might show up in this chapter; it’s a must to finish the story. Please keep with the fic, it’s really almost done soon and I think everyone might be proud of our Buffy when it’s over! Thanks, Luv, Spuf


Buffy always knew just when dawn was about to break. The birds began to sing, just about an hour before sunrise and there was a certain, fragrant dewy scent in the air. Right at this moment, pink and purple colored fingers of light filtered through the bedroom window of Will’s apartment.

William lay sleeping next to Buffy in ‘their’ bed as they had began to call it and again, she was amazed at how young he looked in rest. It was like all of the cares in the world just vanished from him and once again he was seventeen-years-old. Just like he was when Buffy first laid eyes on him at The Bronze.

‘Wonder if he’ll ever realize just what a first impression he made on me,’ she chuckled to herself.

Buffy had been dancing with a couple of non-descript jocks from School and wasn’t really impressed by either one of them. When she’d glanced up and towards the door of the club, she caught sight of a new guy watching her intently.

This bleach blond God took her breath away, just the way he stood and stared at her made her legs feel weak. She had tried to give him some kind of signal to show she noticed him too, but she was so naïve then, so untried and inexperienced. That hadn’t stopped him however, when one of the jocks had groped her while dancing. This new Adonis had come rushing over and literally yanked her from the guy’s grasp and returned her to her group of friends.

“How’s my girl?” came Will’s deep voice, through Buffy’s thoughts, even though his eyes were still shut.

“Your girl is just fine, Will,” she murmered, snuggling back down into his warm arms.

“She better be,”he mumbled, “or I’ll have to paddle her luscious little bottom and remind her never to run off from me again.” Even though he said it with a smirk, chuckling softly with every word, Buffy knew he meant what he said.

“I’ll never run off from you again, Will,” she whispered, running her lips lightly around the shell of his left ear.

“Good, cos’ I’m getting’ old and I can’t run as fast as I used to so….” Buffy giggled loudly and began to wrestle with him, in fun of course, wriggling around on his lap as he lay on his back.

“Better stop the impromtu lap dance, Princess,” he warned, “if you don’t want me to ravish you right now.”

Buffy continued her little wriggling act on top of him, “what makes you think I don’t want to be ravished by you,” she asked coquettishly, batting her golden lashes seductively.

Will must have taken the hint because he flipped Buffy over onto her back and began to kiss her mouth ravenously.

“You sure about this, Princess,” Spike asked rather nervously, “I mean, if you really don’t want to….”

Buffy clasped the sides of his face with her tiny hands, “I’m more then sure, baby,” she purred as she nuzzled his face with hers, “I’m certain. I want you to make love to me now.”

Last night, after Buffy and he had gone to bed, Spike had made sure to just kiss, nuzzle and skim her hurt little body with his mouth, never pushing for anything more then to give her some comfort. He had been concerned, no, make that worried sick that the awful violence that Angel had inflicted on Buffy earlier that day may have scarred her emotionally and physically.

Now, Spike was hopeful, at least pretty hopeful that everything Buffy and he had forged together over the last few weeks was still in tact. Buffy seemed receptive to his affection and was encouraging him to make love to her.

Starting with her sweet mouth, Spike kissed and explored it with his own mouth, illiciting moans of pleasure from both of them. He continued his gentle assault on her lips then moved down to her jaw, neck and of course ended up at her left breast where he suckled it until she squeaked in delight from his ministrations.

Before he could continue down her tummy to her golden curls that covered her sex, Buffy clasped his head and turned his head up to face her, “please, baby,” she panted impatiently, “please just be in me. I need you.”

Spike just melted when Buffy called him ‘baby’ like she lit a fire inside of him, along with the lustful one she’d already ignited.

“Anything you say, baby,” he grinned sliding up her body to position himself between her thighs. Pushing slowly within her, he studied her green eyes intently, “are you sure, Buffy,” he asked again, panting with some restraint.

“Yes,” she gasped, pulling him even closer to her, “I love you Will. Nothing anyone does or tries to do to hurt us will ever split us apart, I promise.”

Spike began to thrust into her gently, kissing her plump little lips tenderly, “I love you Buffy. Always have and always will. You’re right, no one will ever come between us again.”

Buffy felt so alive when she was with William, so very alive and freer then she ever could have imagined. Even while he thrust into her, he whispered the most delicious things in her ear, telling her everything he wanted to do to her.

“We’ve only begun to know each other, you know that baby?” he murmered as he slid into her again, so agonizingly slow that she wanted to weep from want.

“All those future days and nights we have together, just to learn more about and from each other. I can’t wait, Buffy. Everyday I wake up I think of new ways to know you and grow with you. Do you understand what I’m saying, Princess?” Will continued to thrust in and out of Buffy, making her squirm in pleasure and definitely thrust up to meet his hips.

“Yes,” she groaned into his mouth that had just finished nibbling on her jawline and found her lips again. “I think about it too, everyday. All the time we have together to grow together, relearn each other’s bodies again.”

His blue eyes gazed at her green ones, so serious and almost afraid, “I can’t stand it sometimes, Buffy,” he whispered in a low embarrassed voice, “I get scared when I think how much I miss you when you’re gone from me. It makes me feel weak, you are my only weakness you know. I think about us constantly, about this.”

Again he slid almost all the way out of her then back into her once more, “I know how close we are, what’s between us is real and right, Buffy. But, I get scared because I want you all the time, in every way and I….”

“You have me in every way, Will,” she confessed truthfully. “Every way a man could have a woman who loves him.” Buffy blushed, embarrassed for some reason by this confession even though William must have already known just how deep her feelings for him ran.

"Cum for me,” he ordered in his soft, gruff voice, the one that Buffy could never resist, made more so by the fact that Will hungrily kissed her mouth while she came. He followed her immediately and collapsed on top of her body with his own sweat slicked form.

“Love you,” he panted, never breaking from their intimate connection.

“Love you too,” she responded as she stroked his blonde curls and the back of his neck.

Later, as the sun burst through the window of the apartment, Buffy and Spike lay together in a deep embrace. He lay propped up on his right arm while he ran his left hand down her arm softly, listening to her delightful purrs of contentment. Suddenly the shrill ring of Buffy’s cell phone broke their comfortable reveries.

“Who the heck is that?” Buffy asked outloud as she reached for the cell on the end table by her side of the bed. Spike tensed up immediately, he knew damn good and well who it was and almost begged her not to answer it. Buffy clicked the talk button and said hello.

“Buffy,” came Angel’s gruff voice from the other end of the phone line. “You’re not at home, where the hell are you?”

Buffy cringed but soon screwed up her courage and steadied her own voice. “Angel, no I’m not at home and you’re supposed to be at the Club. Why are you calling me anyway? And, my whereabouts are none of your damn business!”

She was proud of herself, her voice was a good mix of cool and righteous indignation and Buffy was rewarded with a long silence on Angel’s end.

Angel finally broke the calm and said in an even, if harsh tone, “you are my business, Buffy. You’re my wife and….”

But she interrupted his sentence with, “that’s something I intend on rectifying as soon as possible Angel.”

When she first had repeated Angel’s name, Will had flinched and silently slipped out of the bed. Buffy watched as Will dug into the nightstand by his side of the bed and brought out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. When he lit a cigarette, he tossed the lighter on the bed and began to pace nervously about, watching her intently. She tried to give him a signal that it was all right, she could handle this, but he angrily stubbed out the cigarette and flopped down next to her on the bed, staring down at her with narrowed eyes.

If Angel Travers was right in front of Spike at this very moment, he’d be dead, no question. Spike would have torn Peaches fucking head off and much like Xander Harris’s, drop kicked it into the Pacific Ocean.

‘There’d be a sight,’ Spike thought smugly, ‘Harris and Travers, two great minds together at last.’ The thought comforted him somehow, but then Spike remembered, it was only a dream.

Reality was this; Buffy was still being bothered by her own husband, the fuck that had virtually raped her in more ways then one. One thing Angel had always been good at was mind games, even when he was in High School; Buffy was enough evidence of that. And now? Angel had perfected ‘mind fucking’ to an art and Buffy had been his muse where that was concerned.

However, Spike noted right at this moment, Buffy seemed to be holding her own with Angel. Buffy repeated what she’d told Angel a moment before, “I intend on rectifying that little problem (their marriage) as soon as possible.”

“Look, babe,” Angel stammered, “just because you and I have had a little misunderstanding, doesn’t mean our marriage is over. It just means we have to communicate, work harder.”

Buffy had to stifle her sardonic laugh, “little misunderstanding?” she asked in disbelief, “you call you fucking my friend and her little sister a misunderstanding? Oh for God’s sake Angel, listen to yourself!”

Angel didn’t miss a beat when he whined, “if we could meet at home, talk. We could fix this Buff, I know it.”

She took a deep breath and said evenly, although she wanted to reach through the line and knock Angel’s stupid block off, “fix it? Angel, this is not fixable, but I do agree, we need to talk. Just not at our house. Last time I tried to talk there with you, I got raped, remember?”

Her husband sighed heavily, “like I told you, babe, a husband and a wife? Not rape, not really, and….”

Buffy growled angrily, “you are an incredible moron, Angel. When a woman or man says no, that means no, whether the perpertrator is a husband, wife, lover or stranger. You raped me, period.”

Angel began to breathe heavily on the other end, “and like I told you once, Buff; possession is nine tenths of the law and like it or not, you are a possession, my possession.”

Buffy almost threw her cell phone across the room, but she looked to Spike and took courage from him. Even though he looked like he was about ready to go and track down Angel to rip him to pieces.

“Look,” Buffy began coolly, “you stay at The Club. I’ll stay ‘incognito’ for a few days. When it’s time, I’ll go by our house and pick up a few things, maybe that is. I’ll contact you, Angel, not the other way around. I’m going to decide when it’s time for us to meet and talk about us. By the way, it’s very doubtful there is any us, but I’ll meet and talk with you, anyway. Just stay put, I’ll stay put and we’ll cool off, like you said. Until then, don’t call me, try to find me or bother anyone we know. No one, and I mean this, no one knows where I am. Don’t waste your time.”

Before Angel could respond, Buffy clicked the off button and tossed the cell phone on the nightstand. “God,” she sighed heavily, “what an incredible ponce!”

“Do you know how incredibly proud I am of you, Princess?” Spike asked in awe of her. Buffy smiled at him warmly and pulled him to her in a vice like grip.

“We’re going to be okay,” Spike whispered in her ear as she stroked his face, neck and shoulders. “No matter what ‘they’ throw at us, we’re going to make it, Buffy. I promise from the bottom of my soul.”

She nuzzled him with her warm mouth and ran her hands down to his bare bottom, pulling him even closer to her tiny frame, “oh, I know we’ll be okay, baby,” she purred.

Spike propped himself up on his elbows and studied her face seriously, “however,” he added with a smirk, his voice quite growly and grrr like, “I do intend on ripping Angel’s head off and shoving it up his arse first chance I get. That okay with you, Princess?”

Buffy giggled wickedly, “oh yeah, first chance, baby. Just promise I can watch you do it!”

 

Chapter 41: ‘Lost and Found!’



Summary: As Buffy and Spike ‘lay low’ together at his place, Angel begins to really panic and try to find her.


Spike had always been impulsive, even before he’d taken the nickname of Spike instead of William. Being so impulsive, it was very hard for him, Spike that is, to hold himself back from storming Angel’s Law office and kicking his sorry arse all over Sunnydale.

The problem was, it would have done no good to anyone to go ballistic at this point in time, especially for Buffy. And Spike would do anything to protect Buffy. Anything at all. Even if it meant biding his time, waiting to go all nuclear on Angel Travers and his butt monkey, Xander Harris.

At the moment, Spike was cuddling a very naked Buffy to his body, enjoying the quiet comfort that it afforded them both. Buffy was asleep, so it gave him a chance to actually visualize ripping Angel to pieces.

After he ripped Angel apart, slowly of course, Spike pictured kicking Xander Harris to a bloody pulp before ripping his fucking heart out and shoving it down what was left of his throat.

‘Nobody messes with my Princess,’ he snarled lowly, trying to fight the anger that bubbled up in him. Angel had raped his girl, his Buffy. And Xander? That fucking little wanker he’d always been, had threatened her. When Spike was done with those two losers, they’d both be sorry they ever heard of him or Buffy for that matter.

The phone rang on the end table next to his side of the bed, breaking his quiet but gory visual reverie.

‘Bloody hell!’ he hissed as he grabbed the phone quickly, he didn’t want the ring to wake his sleeping beauty up.

“Yeah?” he answered abruptly.

“Hey Spike,” came Angel’s voice from the other end, causing the blond to tense up.

“Spike, you there?” Angel asked in a voice that sounded almost frantic.

Spike took a deep, calming breath and finally answered Travers, “yeah, I’m here, what do you want Peaches,” he asked calmly.

Buffy began to stir next to him and he quickly removed his arm from around her shoulders and covered her mouth to stifle any sound from her. She opened her wide eyes and scrunched up her forehead in confusion, but calmed quickly when she heard him ask, “what do you want Angel?”

As Spike removed his hand from her mouth, Buffy snuggled even closer to him and rested her head on his chest. He embraced her tightly with his free arm and frowned into the phone.

“I need a favou,” Angel said evenly, “I need you to find my wife.”

Spike didn’t say anything for a moment or two then finally responded with a question himself, “what, you misplace her, Peaches?”

He really tried not to laugh at Angel, that wouldn’t have helped matters at all. However, all’s Spike could did visualize, again, is his dark haired enemy’s head flying into the Pacific Ocean. Along with Xander’s head as company, of course.

“No, Spike,” Angel sighed roughly, “I did not misplace Buffy. I just need you to find her. I already…..”

Buffy was staring at Spike, wide-eyed with fear, so Spike smiled at her reassuringly and stroked her bare arm.

“Listen Angel,” he began evenly, sure his voice did not betray Buffy to her husband, “I told you before, Buffy is true blue, virtuous as a Nun, yada yada yada. Besides, our business together, yours and mine is finished, remember?”

Silence from the other end of the line, then, “Yeah, I know about the virtuous Buffy crap, Spike.”

‘Peaches is getting a bit upset, isn’t he?’ Spike grinned in delight, winking at Buffy. He grinned even wider when Buffy rewarded him with a soft smile and snuggled closer to him.

“Look, Spike,” Angel stammered, his voice hoarse from what?

‘Crying?’ wondered Spike, ‘surely not Angel ‘almighty’ Travers.

“Buffy left me, Spike,” Angel finally admitted reluctantly. “She left me and except for the fact that I ‘know’ she’s not at Joyce’s, I haven’t a clue where she is. I want her back, Spike. I love her and want her back. Find her for me!”

Spike flinched, if Angel knew Buffy’ wasn’t at her Mum’s, then it wouldn’t be long until he started an all out search for her. Angel was not going to give up on Buffy easily, Spike could understand this. Not like it, yeah. Hate it? Of course, but he, Spike knew there was going to be a battle over Buffy.

However, Spike was going to win the battle and the war, hands down.

“Listen, Angel,” Spike tried to sound less snarky, more sympathetic, “don’t you think maybe this is something for a marriage counseler to handle?”

‘Please say no,’ Spike begged selfishly, silently, ‘please, please, say no and tell me to fuck off. I don’t wan’t to lose her, ever!’

Then he dared another glance at his lover, entangled in his arm, snuggled to his body and smiling tenderly up at him. When he looked into her emerald eyes, so full of love for him, he knew.

‘I’ll never lose her,’ he sighed, ‘doesn’t matter what they throw at us. Remember?’

“Look, if you don’t want to find Buffy, I’ll just find someone else to do it. I’m thinking maybe ‘Doyle’ or someone and…”

Spike practically dropped the cordless phone receiver, “no!” he gasped before he could stop himself. Doyle, as he was named, nothing else, was a monster of the highest calibar. He could find Buffy in a heartbeat and….

“Doyle’s a fucking moron,” Spike stuttered out the lie carefully, “he couldn’t find his own dick on a good day. Using your hands, Peaches.”

Buffy actually giggled beside him and Spike had to keep from kissing her golden head, “I’ll do it, Peaches,” he finally relented.

“Good,” Angel sighed, “I know you dislike my wife, Spike,” he continued, “but I love her. This is just a drama play on her part. We had a misunderstanding and…”

Spike had to keep from snorting out loud, ‘misunderstanding my arse!’ he hissed to himself. ‘You raped my girl you fucking psychotic!’

Steadying his voice and himself, Spike assured Angel he would find Buffy but then asked him, “what the bloody hell do I do when I find her?”

Angel didn’t answer for a moment or two then he finally responded, “bring her home to me, Spike. Convince her to come home.”

The blonde man was confused, “Angel,” he sighed in exasperation, “Buffy would never let ‘me’ convince her to even get her nails done, much less go home to you,” he lied so easily to this fuck, Angel.

“Then ‘make’ her come home!” Angel ordered him harshly.

Buffy watched as Spike slowly hung up his phone and turned to her; his blue eyes looked worried.

“Why did you say you’d find me?” she asked, her soft voice was confused and kind of hurt.

He pulled her tightly to him, “because, Princess,” he kissed her forehead gently, “if I don’t pretend to find you, your idiotic spouse’ll just hire someone else. Someone you don’t want to ever meet up with, believe me.”

She nodded against his neck and held him tighter, “so you pretend to find me? Just let Angel think you’re looking then?”

Spike chuckled softly, “yeah, let him think I’m looking all over Heaven and Hell for you. He doesn’t have to know I’ve already found you, eh?”

Buffy giggled against him, “yeah, guess you have found me, huh?”

William lifted her chin up so their eyes could meet, “seriously Buffy,” he whispered, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “it won’t be long before old Angel is dealing with some other very serious legal shit. He won’t be around to bother you, or me anymore. I promise. But until then, you just lay low, here with me, I’ll let him think I’m searching for you. We’ll be fine, promise. You’re such a strong woman Buffy and you know we’re safe together, don’t you?”

She nodded and smiled at him, kissing his lovely lips warmly, “I know. And I also know that you, William Giles, are very smart, maybe even brilliant!”

Will laughed and began to pepper her face with soft, tender kisses, “I know I’m brilliant, sweetheart, but I like to hear that and ‘you’ know it too!”

Spike didn’t even wait until Buffy welcomed him inside of her. He spread her long lovely legs with his knee and kissed her passionately, at the same time pushing his aching cock inside of her heat, delighting in her little gasps of pleasure.

“That’s so nice, Will,” she panted against his lips as he kissed hers.

“Nice?” he chuckled in mock hurt. “Nice? What about hot? What about ‘brilliant’ baby?”

She scrunched up her nose and giggled, even as she gasped every time he thrust into her. “Always, hot,” she rasped between hot little breaths, always, brilliant!”

Spike moaned and said with a smile, “that’s better!” He proceeded to pound her into the mattress below them, their moans of pleasure intermingled.


 

Chapter 42: ‘I Am Out of Here!’


Buffy washed, dried and put away the breakfast dishes from that morning. She was alone in the apartment, had been for a while, Will had gone to buy food and run some errands. Of course she couldn’t have accompanied him, someone might see them together, especially now that Angel was actually looking for her.

‘I hope it’s enough for Angel, to think that Will is out scouring Sunnydale for me. What a moron you are Angel,’ she sighed, tossing the dish towel onto the counter. Dressed only in her thong and one of Will’s black tee-shirts, Buffy wondered into the living room and plopped down on the couch, spying her cell phone on the coffee table.

‘I need to call my Mom,’ she reasoned, a stab of guilt ran through her. ‘Angel knows I’m not there, he might be harrassing the hell out of her!’

Joyce Summers picked up the call on the third ring of her Art Gallery’s phone.

“Buffy,” she answered normally enough, “how are you?”

Apparently, Angel got his information from her Mother in some other way, other then tormenting the hell out of her.

‘Wow,’ Buffy thought in surprise, ‘maybe Angel isn’t a complete evil monster!’

The thought stunned her, but then she could only guess just how or who found out that she was not at Joyce’s.

“I, I’m okay, Mom,” Buffy stammered in response, “well, no, I’m not okay, okay. I’m kind of okay, though.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone line, “Buffy,” Joyce finally said softly, “have you left Angel?”

Buffy gulped and whispered, “yeah, kind of. I’m more, incognito then legally seperated. You know what I mean?”

Her Mother paused for a moment, then Buffy heard a sigh of ‘relief?’ from her, “good. I hope you jump from incognito hiding to legally dumping that fool as soon as possible!”

Buffy couldn’t help it, she giggled, causing her Mother to laugh too, “gee Mom,” she chided, “hate Angel much?”

Joyce stopped laughing long enough to assure her daughter that she didn’t ‘hate’ anyone; but dislike, detest, have complete contempt for? Now, that Joyce Summers could handle in a heartbeat!

“Buffy,” Joyce stopped laughing completely and got very serious, “are you okay? I mean really, honey. Are you someplace safe? Maybe someplace with a certain blonde Brit that we both know and love?”

Buffy took a deep breath, more of a sigh really, “Mom, I’m not going to tell you where I am, specifically that is. It’s best if no one knows where I’m at right now. Angel’s playing the ‘Godfather Corleone’ and I don’t want any of my family or friends to have to lie to him about me or my whereabouts. If you don’t know where I am, then you can’t lie to Angel about it. I’ll call you in a day or so, Mom. Until then, just know I’m safe, happy for once and Angel has no idea how to find me. Okay?”

Joyce assured her daughter that it was certainly okay by her, but before she let Buffy off the phone, she also made her promise that she would take care and ‘be safe.’

As soon as Buffy had clicked off the cell phone and tossed it back on the coffee table, William stepped through the front door.

“Hello, baby,” he greeted affectionately, giving her the once over with appreciation. “Gotta’ say, Princess, my tee-shirt looks a hundred times better on you then it does me!”

Buffy leapt up from the couch and took two of the bags he carried from him, then hurried into the kitchen with her booty (!)

“I’ve missed you!” she cried, even as she quickly put away the various food items he had bought for them. “Oooooh, wine!” she crowed as she turned to blow him a thank you kiss, “and chocolate!”

William began to put away the groceries from the two remaining bags he had brought in. “Hope you’re hungry, baby,” he said as he opened the refrigerator and set a butcher’s wrapped bag of some kind of meat inside, “I’m cooking tonight. Thank God, huh?” he winked at her and Buffy grinned back at him.

“Here,” he turned to face her and show her some kind of mangos or something he’d bought for her, but stopped short when he saw the tears in her eyes.

"What?” he asked worriedly, dropping the rest of bag’s contents on the counter, “what’s wrong, Buffy?”

Spike had noticed the turn of Buffy’s mood the minute he had mentioned his cooking that night.

‘What the bloody hell? I was just teasin’ about the thank God thing. She can cook, why’s she tearing up?’

Buffy stood stock still in the middle of his miniscule kitchen, her little feet were bare and stuck firm on the tiled floor, while her long legs reached up to the hem of his tee-shirt.

‘It really does look better on her,’ he thought warmly. The look on her beautiful face was his undoing; her bottom lip trembled, her emerald green eyes were shiny from moisture and even her tiny hands were clenched by her sides.

When she looked up to meet his concerned gaze, she began to chew on her bottom lip lightly. “I hate him,” she whispered, more like sobbed softly, “I hate that bastard I’m married to, Will. Wish it was you I was married to. I’m sorry, but….”

He rushed over to her, took her in his arms and pulled her flush to his chest, “don’t be sorry, baby. I wish you were married to me too and when this shit’s over, you will be; I promise you that. That is if you want to be?” Buffy held him in a vice like grip, “of course I want to be married to you, silly,” she murmered even as she soaked his own shirt with her hot tears. “It’s you I should have been married to for the last umpteenth years. Don’t you know that I realize that now?”

Spike felt like a complete ponce but he couldn’t help it, he began to cry right along with her.

“Buffy,” he whispered to her, “I love you so much, always have. I just wish we both could have realized this a long time ago and saved all this bullshit heartache and all. You’re my girl,” he told her firmly, his voice husky with emotion, “you always were, always will be. We just got lost from each other for a while, but now, no, from now on, we’ll never be lost from each other again!”

Buffy continued to sob into his shirt and Spike finally just picked her up in his arms, carrying her to the couch. He sat down with her still in his arms, cuddling her close to him.

“I’m such a damn fool,” she mumbled into his chest, “why did I say that stupid name, Angel, back then, just when you and I could have been together? God, I was such an idiot and a coward,” she added with a sniffle.

Spike shook his head firmly, stroking her thong covered little bottom lovingly, “you were not a fool and you are not a coward, Buffy,” he assured her. “You were a young, unsure girl who didn’t know the ways of the world yet. I, on the other hand, was a fucking moron, impatient git that should have been more understanding of you, where you were at then.”

Buffy finally stopped crying and began to giggle lightly, “you think we, you and I, would be married by now? I mean if things had of been different, Will?”

He smiled at her upturned face, a face that Buffy was sure was covered with some leftover makeup from all of her tears.

“I think we’d have been married to each other and parents ten times over, luv,” he chuckled warmly.

“Parents ten times over!” Buffy gasped, wide-eyed, “I don’t think so Mister!” but she giggled again and Will kissed the end of her nose.

“Okay,” he grinned, “maybe not ten rugrats, but at least three or four, right?” Buffy blushed and buried her face in his chest again, fresh tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but these were happy tears and such a welcomed change from the sad ones she’d cried for so long.

The shrill ring of her cell phone broke their intimate moment.

“I have to get this, Will,” she explained, even as she apologized, “it could be my Mom.”

Buffy picked up the phone and clicked the ‘talk’ button reluctantly.

“Hello, Buff,” came Angel’s hated voice from the other end, “miss me?”

Buffy grimmaced and looked over at William, with a roll of her eye she sighed and responded to her husband, “thought I told you ‘I’ would get in touch with you Angel.”

Will flinched, his whole body tensed up and his jaw muscles clenched tightly. She ran her finger down his chiseled cheekbone, then skimmed it across his lips, “shhhh,” she purred to him with a half smile.

“I miss you,” Angel confessed in a small voice, “I want you to come home, Buffy.”

Buffy had to cover her mouth with her free hand to stifle a gasp, or at least a chuckle, “come home?” she asked in disbelief. “What home, Angel?” she continued, “the one ‘you’ raped me in? Our little self made prison? Get real Angel, it’s over. I am definitely through with you and your whole damn family. I don’t want anything from you, just my freedom, all legit on a piece of paper. Signed by a registered Judge of course!”

Angel said nothing for a moment, then he finally whimpered, “can we please meet? Talk, babe? I mean somewhere where you’ll be secure, happy with? How about my office?”

Buffy glanced up at Will who looked sick with concern. “I’ll think about meeting you at your Law firm, Angel,” she conceded, “but only if we discuss our divorce, in your office, with everyone of your staff and half of your partners’ close by. I don’t trust you Angel, I never will again.”

Angel must have thought about this, seriously, because he didn’t say anything for a minute or so but finally relented with a sigh, “okay Buffy. We’ll talk at my office. Tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Buffy answered, feeling in complete control, “I’ll have to get back to you.” Everything inside of Buffy wanted to scream ‘I know you’re having someone track me down like a criminal you psychotic control freak!’

“Until then, Angel,” Buffy began sternly, “don’t call me, I’ll call you!” Then she clicked off the phone and again, tossed it on the coffee table. “Now,” she purred to William, snuggling close into him, “where were we?”

They made love, Buffy and Spike, all the rest of the day and through the night. Only stopping to fix supper and eat, shower, eat and bathe, eat some more (okay, I’ll stop now!), they made love together until they were too damn exhausted to make love anymore that night.

When daylight came, Buffy and Spike were so sexually sated that it was difficult to climb out of bed and shower together, but they managed somehow. Later, Buffy had to admit that she needed to go to the Travers’ house and pick up some of her clothes, at least, if not other personal things.

Spike wanted Buffy to be comfortable in their apartment, but he was worried about her going back into that hell house of Angel’s, no matter for what.

“I’ll go with you,” Spike stated firmly.

Buffy looked at him as if he’d grown two heads, “you can’t!” she cried, “my God, Will, if a neighbor saw us?”

He had to give her that all right. If one of those neighbors, with their silver spoons up their arses, saw him go into her house with her? Angel would come down on Buffy with the wrath of God. Her and her whole family.

“All right,” Spike finally relented, “I’ll wait here, but you call me when you get inside of that fucking prison. When you’re finished getting your necessities, you call me again. Understand, Buffy?” he asked seriously, his eyes betrayed the fear in his heart.

“I understand,” she giggled, “I’ll be fine, Will, honest. Angel is at work, I’m sure and besides, Jenny and Maggie will be home. I’ll be fine.”

She looked so sure of herself that he didn’t have the heart to push his paranoia any more then he had. “Okay, baby,” he relented, “but the minute you walk out of that house, call me. I’ll be close by.”

Angel didn’t call for an entire twenty-four hours and Buffy was grateful. Will and her just played around the apartment, acting silly and making love all day and night.

The next morning, though, Buffy had to convince him, Will, that she just had to go back to the Travers’ house and get some necessary things.

“I mean it, baby,” she laughed, even as she pulled on her two day old jeans, after their shower, I have to get some clean change of clothes. At least I need to get some paperwork, lots of things. I’ll be fine, I promise, don’t worry.”

But Will was worried, she could tell.

“I’m going to follow you over there, Buffy,” he said firmly, “I don’t give a rat’s arse if you like it or not. I’ll park down the street, in the DeSoto. Please just let me do this. I won’t go into the house, I’ll just hang out nearby.”

In the end, Buffy relented and let Will follow her over to the house; what could it hurt?

Spike sat in his old classic DeSoto, just down the street from Angel’s house, he couldn’t bring himself to think of it as Buffy’s also. Buffy had driven her Camaro, once they picked it up from where they’d left it over forty-eight hours ago, to the house.

He was proud of Buffy, Spike was, she’d come so far from the insecure, brainwashed woman he had known just a couple of months before. His Princess, Buffy, had really come into her own, become stronger then even she could have guessed.

‘Hope I had something to do with it,’ he smiled as he fiddled with the stereo in his car, finally settling on ‘the world famous KROQ’ for a station. Some silly, sad song was playing.

‘Bloody stupid angst crap,’ he grumbled, ‘what happened to kick arse punk music? At least it put some ‘fun’ in the ‘dysfunctional!’

‘Run’ by Snow Patrol


‘I’ll sing it one last time to you
Then we really have to go
You’ve been the only thing that’s right
In all I’ve done’

Buffy stepped into the house she’d shared with Angel for six years

“Mrs. Travers,” Jenny greeted warmly, “we’ve missed you. There’s a ton of messages on your answering machine, escpecially from Mr. Travers, he’s been worried sick about you.

“I just bet he has,” Buffy snorted back at Jenny, but with a smile.

‘And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we’ll make it anywhere
Anywhere from here’

Spike got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomache it started way down low, then ran up until it slipped into his throat, making it hard for him to breathe.

“Something isn’t right,” he hissed out loud, debating whether or not to turn the ignition and just pull right up in front of Angel’s little dark castle. His fear for Buffy began to overwhelm him, making him forget his promise to not interfere, not go into that dark place to find her. She had wanted to do this all by herself and he’d promised to let her.

‘Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I’ll be right beside you dear’

Buffy hurried up to the master bedroom, she had everything planned out in her mind. The clothes she would grab and toss into her small overnight bag. Then there was the jewelry, the ones her Mother had given her. She wanted those few pieces, they meant something to her, something dear and close to her heart.

As she went through the top dresser drawer, the one that held the old ruby ring that belonged to her Grandmother, Buffy realized she needed to leave something behind. It was time. So, she slipped the wedding rings Angel had given her off of her finger and laid them on top of the dresser, feeling no pain or remorse from her actions.


‘Louder, louder
And we’ll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can’t raise your voice to say

‘To think I might not see those eyes
It makes it hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbyes
I nearly do’


Buffy turned to look around at the bedroom she’d shared with Angel for so many years and realized that she didn’t ‘know’ or ‘recognize’ it at all anymore. If she ever did that is.

‘Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I’ll be right beside you dear

‘Louder, louder
And we’ll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can’t raise your voice to say’


Spike lit another cigarette, nervously, ‘she should be out of there by now,’ he reasoned. ‘And this is really a fucking depressing song! Sounds like somebody died!’ Suddenly, Spike bolted up from his half slouched stance, ‘Buffy!’ he gasped, terrified.


‘Slower, slower
We don’t have time for that
All I want is to find an easier way
To get out of our little heads

‘Have heart my dear
We’re bound to be afraid
Even if it’s just for a few days
Making up for all this mess’

Buffy picked up the overnight bag, checked around one more time and sighed in relief.

“I’m out of here,” she said aloud to no one, just the air and herself, and maybe even Will, who sat in his old car right down the street. “I’m finally free.”

The cordless phone on the end table, the one by her old side of the bed rang shrilly.


 

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