Make Her Own Way


Summary: Well, as previously threatened, here’s my Buffy is Spike’s mistress fiction. It won’t be near as long as my other fic of moment, Buffy’s Revenge, promise. Buffy is the mistress of William ‘Spike’ Giles, one of the most powerful men in Sunnydale, California. She’s been his woman for almost three years, but now at 24, she has begun to question her status in her present life and in her future. Buffy wants to make her own way in the world now, but the problem is that Spike doesn’t want her that ‘independent’ from him. Will she have to run away from Sunnydale and Spike to achieve her goal of independence?

Chapter 1: ‘His Mistress’

Buffy Summers drove her red Corvette into the apartment complex parking structure. She jumped out of the sleek car and threw the keys to Tito, the valet attendent. “Take care of her,” she winked at the teenager as she sashayed into the waiting elevator. Punching the up button, the one that would take her to her penthouse apartment, she refelcted on that days events. It had gone well, the interview with Xander. Of course, it would, since Xander ‘was’ her ex-boss and a good buddy to her lover, William. Although she hadn’t really worked in almost three years, ever since William, or Spike as he was known to the world, had ‘rescued’ her from the drudgery of everyday toil of being a cocktail waitress and a starving college student. Still, though, she longed to go back to work, at least for a few nights a week; the ones where Spike didn’t come around to ‘their’ place. On those three or four nights a week, her lover spent his time at his own place, working all hours of the night, concentrating on becoming even more rich and powerful then he already was.

When Spike blew into her life like a tornado and swept her off her feet, he made it clear that she was not to sweat another day’s toil again. He took care of everything; her apartment, a penthouse with a view of the Pacific Ocean and the bright red Corvette she loved so much. Heck, he even bought her all of the clothes now hanging in her expansive walk-in closets. All in all, Buffy should have been quite content with her lifestyle, but unfortunately, she was not. Deep down inside, Buffy longed for the old-fashioned stability of a home and family. Like her mom and dad had, with her little sister Dawn down in LA. She longed for respectibility and yes, even marriage, on her terms, of course. And more then anything? She wanted to make her own way again; even if that meant not being with Spike, or Will as only she was allowed to call him.

The really bizarre thing was, Will would marry her in a heartbeat, she knew that. He had asked her over a year ago to be his wife, but she had mumbled some excuse about not being ready at the time. Sad to say, she would probably never be ready to marry William Giles, or, to be exact, she would not marry his ‘alter ego’ Spike. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Will, she did and he loved her, maybe even as much as he loved money and power. The problem was, that William was connected with the wrong sort of business people; his strongest business ties being to his own family.

The shady and elusive Gile’s clan. Rupert Giles, William’s father was a prim and conservative English business man, home based in London. At least on the surface; underneath, Rupert Giles was as ruthless as any American mobster, without a doubt. He had taught his only son, William, well in the practices of the cut throat ‘money laundering’ business. In fact, in the three years that had passed since Rupert sent William out to Sunnydale to expand the family’s business? William had surpassed his own father in fame and fortune, in the States that is; a source of great pride to the ‘old man and even Will’s mother, Jenny.’

Buffy walked into her penthouse and glanced around, her own sense of pride welled up inside her. She ‘had’ come a long way from the naïve, hard working twenty-one-year old she had once been. Her apartment, or actually, ‘Will’s and hers’ apartment, the one ‘he’ paid for, was an interior decorator’s dream. Everything in it however, she had chosen. All of the furniture; down to the oriental place mats on the dining room table, they had been her ideas. The off white paint on the walls, except where she’d opted for red with pink and black trim; she’d picked it. The whole apartment reflected an Asian motiff, perfectly, just like she had envisioned. It was Will, however, who paid for it all, right down to the over-priced oriental satin throws on the couch.

Of course, when William had met her, she was rather unsophisticated, yes, but she was a Liberal Arts student at Sunnydale University. Like her own mother, she had an eye for the arts, mostly paintings and scultures. She was working her way through school as a hostess at ‘The Chateau’ three nights a week and at the ‘Bronze’ on weekends as a ‘drink jockey.’ It was the ‘Chateau’ where Will supposedly first laid eyes on her; a Thursday, she remembered it clearly.



He was entertaining some fellow business associates, five of them in all, and had brought them to the restaurant to talk shop. Buffy was in charge of their table and as naïve as she was, she could smell real money a mile away. As she directed the waitress and tried valiantly to calm Xander Harris’s (her boss at The Chateau) frazzled nerves. Buffy couldn’t help but notice that Mr. Giles, the bleached blonde, handsome host of the table, #1, was watching her intently. In fact, she noted, he never took his eyes off of her all night. When their supper was finished, this Mr. Giles seemed to hesitate, almost reluctant to leave, or so it seemed to Buffy.

After the Gile’s party had left, and only after Mr. William Giles himself had spoken to Xander in his private office for a good twenty minutes or more; the waitress who had serviced the table near ran breathlessly up to Buffy. “Look,” she crowed proudly, “a sixty dollar tip I got, Buffy, look!” Buffy smiled warmly, Amy the waitress really needed the money; she was a very young mother, not much more then nineteen and her equally young husband was a law student at SDU. “That’s great, Amy,” Buffy patted her arm, “you’re such a great waitress, you should be proud of yourself.” Amy grinned mischieviously at Buffy, “well,” she whispered saucily, “I might be a great waitress, but you must be an even greater hostess!"” Buffy gave her a puzzled look, “huh?” she asked, confused. Amy held out two crisp one hundred dollar bills and a piece of paper.

The caligraphy handwriting on the paper was almost artistic, so of course it caught Buffy’s eye immediately. It read: “Buffy; to an exquisite work of art, from a simple man who can at least ‘see’ a great, rare beauty such as youself.” It was signed, William Giles. The two one-hundred dollar bills were for her. A rather big, “Wow!” was all she could muster at the moment. Buffy was still rather stunned by the more then generous tip when she heard Xander clear his throat and wave her into his office. “Oh, oh,” she said to herself, “this cannot be of the good.”




Spike drove his black BMW down the 101 Freeway, right through the heart of Sunnydale, California. His ever present cigarette hung from his mouth as he listened to Johnny Rotten sing some crap about ‘Her Majesty’ the Queen and all of the other Royal hypocrits. “God,” he sighed, happily, “life ‘is’ so bloody good!” He had just finished a major business deal; no, he had in fact, just crushed a major business rival, completely. His blood just pumped strongly through his body, right along with Sid’s guitar riff in the song. At that very moment, he felt so powerful that he was sure he could beat the ‘Hell’ out of Satan in a fair fight. However, he noted, happily, he was on his way to his Buffy; his woman, his love. They hadn’t been together in days, he’d been working so hard lately, holed up at night in his lonely bachelor apartment. He had missed her desperately and couldn’t wait to get to ‘their’ place, fall into their bed and lose himself in her small but strong arms. Buffy was more then his mistress, she was his lover, his muse; bloody hell, she was his redeemer.

His cell phone rang beside him on the car seat, “I have got to change that bleedin’ tune,” he reminded himself as ‘God Save the Queen’ sang out, shrilly. He turned down the radio and answered the cell, “Giles,” he said abruptly. “Hello, son,” came his Dad’s refined British accent from the other end of the line. “Hi, Da,” he responded warmly. For as much as Rupert Giles, his dad could be a real cold hearted bastard, Spike loved both him and his mother dearly. Spike didn’t bother to pull over to the side of the highway, as law dictated when a driver was on a cell, he never paid much attention to rules and laws; this was no exception. “How’s mum?” he asked, lighting another cigarette with a free hand. “She’s fine son,” his dad answered quickly. “But tell me, William,” Spike could just hear his dad creeping up on him like a cat, even over the phone, “how’s our dear Buffy?” the old man asked innocently.

“Gorgeous, as always,” Spike answered, truthfully. “She’s finally put a couple of pounds on, Da, so tell mum she can stop worrying about how thin Buffy is, okay?” A momentary silence, then, “William, your mum and I, well we’re concerned. When are you two children going to ‘get married?’ I’m fine with the status quo, of course, but your mum is worried that she’ll never be a grandmum.” The younger Giles had to chuckle, ‘mum is worried, my arse,’ he snorted to himself. His Da was insane about Buffy, thought she was the best thing since fish and chips. If anyone couldn’t wait to be a grandparent it was Rupert Giles and only Buffy Summers would do for his only son, William. Which, was just fine by Spike, he agreed with his folks. Buffy was the one, had been the only one from the first time he’d seen her at that swanky restaurant three-years ago. “Dad,” he began, patiently, “I’d marry Buffy tomorrow, you know that, but she wants to wait a while longer. She’s only twenty-four, remember?” Rupert Giles sighed, audibly on the other end of the line, “your mum was twenty-four when she had you, William. Bloody hell, she was twenty-two when she had your sister, Drusilla.” Now, there was a fact that Spike could not argue with.

“Dad,” Spike sighed in resignation, “I can’t force Buffy to marry me, especially when she’s not ready. Wish I could, but I can’t.” Rupert’s chuckled heartily, “well then do what I did, son,” he offered, “compromise her. She’ll have to marry you.” Spike didn’t want to have to remind his father that he had already pretty much compromised Buffy, for three years now. At least in the traditonal sense of the word ‘compromise.’ In this day and age, living together off and on, like him and Buffy did, didn’t stipulate ‘compromising’ very much. “Oh for God’s sake, William,” his father growled in total exasperation, “get the girl pregnant and force her into marriage. What the bloody hell do you think I had to do with your mum, finally?” Spike had to laugh, leave it his Da to orchestrate his own matrimony, even with a cautious bride to be. “Okay, Dad,” he agreed, “I’ll give it my best shot.”

MAKE HER OWN WAY

Chapter 2: ‘Her Man’


Buffy had everything ready for Will when he got ‘home’ to their place that night. She had gotten good at this, over the last three years, very good at it. Dinner was in the oven, she was showered, made-up and dressed to kill in a very short red silk kimono. Red was Will’s favorite color, next to black that is. When her man walked through that door, Buffy would allow him to take her in his strong arms and greet her like he always did. Like a man starving from lack of food; she being the feast. He had been working so hard lately, way too hard for her taste, but what could she do? She wasn’t his wife, she was his mistress; his very well kept mistress. “And who’s fault is that? she asked herself in the master bedroom’s full length mirror. Buffy could have been Mrs. William Giles a long time ago, if she so chose to be, but she didn’t; no, she couldn’t.

Tonight was going to be different, though, she wagered. This night, she was going to broach the subject of her going back to work, for Xander Harris. If anyone was an acceptable boss for Buffy, to Will anyway, it was Xander. William trusted Xander almost as much as he trusted her and if she would be ‘allowed’ to work for anyone, it was Xander, Will’s and her’s mutual friend. Buffy leaned over the dining room table and lit the tapered red and white candles that she had set there an hour or so earlier. Their scent was of cherries and vanilla, her favorites. Everything had to be just so, tonight, especially; Buffy had to make this work out. She needed to go back to work, for her sanity’s sake and her own self esteem.

In the long run, though, Buffy knew it was her sexuality, her web of sensuality she spun around Will that would get what she wanted. He was exhausted, at least mentally, she was sure of that, as he always was after some major business move. But, she was more then capable of soothing his exhaustion, easing his worrisome troubles in her own special way. Truth was, Buffy enjoyed their sexual encounters, maybe as much as Will did, which was saying a lot. William was so into their sexual life together, that Buffy was surprised that he even went to work some days and nights. More then once, she had to shoo him off to work in the morning, he was reluctant to leave their bed and she was reluctant to let him; but she did. In her mind’s eye, she knew she would have to pull out all of the stops tonight, to get her man to agree to her taking a job again. But she was pretty confident that she could do just that.

Spike pulled into their parking structure. It was funny how he thought of this place as his and Buffy’s when he thought of his spartan, one bedroom apartment as his alone. Probably because it was a lonely, isolated place, where he worked and slept, nothing more. His home, his heart was in the apartment he shared with his girl, Buffy. She had furnished it herself, right down to the delicate paintings on the white, red and pink trimmed walls. He, of course had taste, yes, but not like his Buffy’s fine taste in interior decorating.

‘Flashback, Spike’s POV’

From the first time he’d laid eyes on her, in that fancy place downtown, working part time to pay for college, he’d wanted her. Desperately wanted her to the point of distraction. That first night, he had talked to Xander Harris, Buffy’s boss, for a good half hour after the dinner at The Chateau, just trying to get some information. Information about the blond haired, green-eyed angel that had played hostess to ‘his’ table that night.

It took only that few minutes of talk with Xander to find out a lot about Buffy Summers. She went to college, Liberal Arts was her major; she worked two jobs, her primary one was with Xander at The Chateau and weekends at the ‘Bronze’ even further downtown. Even then, Spike knew that an exceptional woman like Buffy should not be working herself to exhaustion just to get through college. More then that, Spike was not pleased to find out that Buffy had a steady boyfriend, some oaf named Angel for God’s sake. According to Harris, this Angel was far beneath Buffy in a lot of ways. Even more then that, Xander Harris was pretty sure that this Angel O’Connor had maybe hit Buffy once or twice. No matter, Spike had made up his mind, wrong or right, that he would possess Buffy Summers some day. The sooner, the better, for everyone.

‘Present Day’

“Baby,” Spike called as he entered their apartment, quickly relieving himself of the expensive, but hated shirt he had to wear to the office. He saw her come out of their bedroom, wearing that naughty little red silk robe he adored her in. “Hi, Will,” she smiled as she walked right up to him and kissed him square on the mouth. “Oh, Buffy,” he moaned, returning her sweet kiss, “I’ve missed you so much.” Without missing a beat, Spike pulled her up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom where he lay her on the red silk comforter. Her golden hair fanned out on the sumptuous cover, mixing with the pink and white cherry blossoms that were woven into the red background. While he kissed her mouth, cheeks and neck, relentlessly, he untied her silky robe and exposed her gorgeous body. “Mmmmm,” he purred when he saw she wore no knickers, “that’s my naughty girl.” His hands stroked her plump breasts and trailed their way down her tummy to her slim hips.

Buffy was writhing in true pleasure underneath Will’s expert touch. When he touched her between her thighs, she bucked up into his fingers with a long, slow moan. This is what she waited for all week, this time alone with Will and his beautiful hands, his artists fingers as they worked their magic on her. “Oh Will,” she sighed, pulling his mouth up to hers, “I’ve missed you too, so much.” He positioned himself over her and pushed up into her, gently. “Missed me, or this?” he asked, huskily. “All of it, all of you,” she gasped as he continued to slide in and out of her slowly. “Good,” he grunted, speeding up, “cos’ I miss you more then you could know, baby. I think about you and this all day, every day.” She wrapped her long legs around his slim hips and helped him thrust into her bringing on her orgasm, which he soon followed with his own.

They lay in the afterglow of their love making, their bodies entwined, their sex sweat intermingled together. Spike had turned some music on by remote, it was soft and pretty and Buffy felt the gentle tune soothe her body and mind. Through half closed eyes, she looked at Will, his own were closed tight. “Will,” she whispered softly, “you want to eat something, or sleep a while?” He grinned at her, lazily, his eyes still shut tight, “both actually,” he admitted, “but I’ll take food first, sweetheart.” She hopped up, fairly spryly and went into the bathroom to wash up. “I made shrimp scampi, Will,” she called lightly, “I know how much you love it and there’s a nice Chardonnay in the freezer.” His arms wrapped around her from behind at the sink, “you’re way to good for me, luv,” he murmered in her ear, just before he licked it slowly. “I better marry you before you figure out what a bloody bum I really am and leave me,” he chuckled softly, only half-joking.

Spike felt Buffy flinch, slightly. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” he asked with concern. “Nothing,” she mumbled lowly, “nothing’s wrong, Will. Guess I’m just a little jumpy. Tired I guess, nothing more.” She picked up the silver handled brush he’d bought her when they were in London a year ago, but he took it from her gently. “Let me, luv,” he said tenderly, “I love brushing your gorgeous hair.” While he brushed her soft golden locks, she hummed in pleasure, letting him know how good it felt to have him touch her that way. Once he’d counted a hundred strokes, he put the brush down and turned her around to face him. “I love you, you know,” he said seriously, gazing into her green eyes. “I know you do, Will,” she dropped her eyes then met his gaze again, “I love you too.”

Buffy watched in silent glee as Will nearly wolfed his food down. She liked watching her man enjoy his food, especially food she had prepared for them. Frankly, she thought Will could use a few pounds, much like he was always getting on her about. He was naturally lean, but well built, like a lightweight boxer. However, sometimes, especially when he had his binges of work mania, he’d lose a couple of pounds and on him it really showed. “It’s great, babe,” he assured her as he finished off the shrimp and reached for his wine. “Always is though,” he added with a wink and she had a feeling he wasn’t just talking seafood here. With a blush, she stood up to clear the plates and start the clean up in the kitchen. “Sweetheart,” he grabbed her hand gently to stop her, “aren’t you going to eat more?” He had that ‘I’m worried about you’ expression on his face that she found so endearing, but at the same time quite annoying.

“I’m fine, Will,” she giggled, “if I get hungry later I’ll eat leftovers. Please don’t worry about me so much, I’m fine, really.” He nodded in defeat and dropped the subject. She slipped away with the dishes and Spike took the opportunity to have a smoke out on the balcony. Buffy hated cigarettes, so he’d always go outside to have a smoke, never inside their apartment. At his own place, it smelled like a bloody smoking club, even though he was the only one ever there. The few times Buffy had been there, she had taken the opportunity to clean the place for him. She’d done such a thorough job, that he couldn’t find half of his stuff when she was finished. Besides, he didn’t like her overworking herself like a servent, anyway, that’s why he paid for a housekeeper to take care of their penthouse. The old gal was efficient and conveniently absent whenever he was around; a win/win situation for them all.

Spike gazed out at the magnificent view of the Pacific, just a few miles away. “Buffy belongs here; we both do,” he told himself, proudly, “I give her this and God knows she deserves it.” He could hear his lover humming some nameless tune from the kitchen and suddenly felt very lonely out on the balcony without her there. After one last drag of his half finished cigarette, he stubbed it out in the black porcelein ashtray Buffy had chosen for him and placed on the little wrought iron and glass table. For some reason, every time he used that ashtray, an overwhelming wave of tenderness for Buffy came over him. It was these little things, the little niceties that she did for him; they added up and helped create the ‘big feelings’ that he had for her.

Buffy was his life’s partner, his wife in every sense of the word, except for that little piece of legal paper. “Dad’s right,” he sighed to himself, “I’m going to have to take some drastic measures to get my gold band on her wedding finger, but I’ll figure out some way.” With a shake of his blond head and a mumbled, ‘bloody stubborn woman’ Spike went back inside of the apartment to search out his Buffy.

He found her still in the kitchen, finishing up the few dishes from their meal. “Princess,” he called, coming up behind her, “why don’t you ever use the dishwasher, it’s why I had the bloody thing installed?” Spike tried to sound exhasperated, but only succeeded in sounding like a lovesick teenage boy. Which ‘is’ exactly what he was, the lovesick part anyway; he’d never really been a teenage boy. Not in the Giles clan. Buffy giggled as he tickled her on her small ribs, “oh Will,” she slapped his hands away, gently, “there’s so few and I do use the dishwasher sometimes. When we have guests, I do. You know that.” He spun her around and pulled her tiny body to his tightly, “well, maybe,” he chuckled as he placed a kiss on her rather funny shaped nose, that he simply adored by the way. “But I ‘do’ know this much, it’s time for Buffy to stop working and start playing with her man!”

Buffy laughed and pretended to struggle, but Spike managed to toss her over his left shoulder, quite easily, actually. He strode off, victoriously, with his prize squealing like an excited little piglet. Mr. Gordo, Buffy’s prized tabby cat seemed to shake his rather large, handsome head at the couple as they passed by him; almost as if to say, “well, they’re at it again. Silly humans!” Spike shot the tubby feline a smirk, “what’re you lookin’ at cat?” he growled good-naturedly. “Oh Will for God’s sake,” Buffy giggled again, “Mr. Gordo has no idea what we’re going to do!” Spike smiled warmly and patted Buffy’s dear little bottom lovingly, “Princess,” he murmered, “sometimes you are endearingly naïve, but I love you anyway.” He carried her into the bedroom and kicked the door shut with his bare foot.

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Another A/N: A couple of ‘other’ characters from BTVS will be introduced in this chapter. They are only mention right now, but will show up in future chapters. Thanks S


Chapter 3: ‘Don’t Ever Go Away From Me’


Spike got up before the sun rose that morning, he never could sleep past 6:00 AM, even on days when he didn’t go into the office. Buffy and him had made love until well past midnight, but he was well rested; not surprising really, she always exhausted him physically. He had already showered, made coffee and smoked a cigarette by 7:00, even while he let Buffy sleep in. She had been so tired the night before, a bit distracted, he thought, too. Something was bothering her, he could tell, but he had an uneasy feeling about questioning her on it. He was afraid that whatever ‘it’ was that was bothering his Princess, might turn out to be something he could not handle. Dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black tee shirt, he didn’t even bother to comb his damp hair before he sat down on the balcony to drink his coffee, chain smoke and read the Wall Street Journal.

‘God Save the Queen’ rang out from his cell phone that he sat next to the ashtray on the glass table. Glancing at his rolex, he noted it was now 7:15 AM, “who the bloody hell is that!” he grumbled, clearly annoyed. Everyone that worked for him knew all too well not to bother him when he was at Buffy’s and his place, not ever. He had actually fired a new hire, Johnathan Levy, once, when the clueless little man had innocently called him while he was here with Buffy. It was only 8:30 or so at night, but Spike had gone ballistic, he didn’t care if the idiot had an important message from Rupert Giles or not. At the moment, Spike remembered clearly, he had been making oral love to Buffy on their living room sofa and this little Levy moron called right when she was about to cum. Only after calling Johnathan every name in the book, screaming loud enough to wake the dead, Spike fired him right over the phone.

Spike chuckled at the memory of that whole dramatic episode. His wise little Buffy let the matter go until the next afternoon that is. By 3:00 PM PST, Buffy had talked him, no, she had ‘convinced’ him to rehire Johnathan, with a slight pay raise. Turned out for the good, though, Johnathan Levy was to this very day, one of the best employees that Spike had. With a sigh, Spike answered the cell phone, “Giles,” he barked gruffly. “Hey, Spike,” it was Xander Harris’s voice on the other end. “Harris, what the bloody hell do you want this early?” He heard Xander laugh, “Oh blow it out, Spike,” the big man chortled, “I know you’ve been up forever and Buffy is probably still in dream land.” Spike laughed himself, “true enough, mate. But you still need to tell me what the hell gets ‘you’ up at this hour?”

Buffy woke up, alone in bed, and glanced around the room at the alarm clock on her red cherrywood end table. “Wow. It’s already 8:40 AM? No wonder I’m alone in bed, Will’s been up for hours. Probably toppled the Euro financial structure by now,” she giggled softly. She jumped up out of bed and rushed in to take a quick shower; she had to talk to Will about that job thingy this morning. They never ‘found’ the time to last night and she just had to get this out on the table with him.

She dressed quickly, a pair of old comfy jeans, a soft pink sweater her house slippers. Before she went to find Will, she dabbed just a touch of shadow on her lids and some light gloss to her lips. Not surprisingly, Buffy found Will standing out on the balcony, smoking a cigarette, staring out at the ocean. With an ‘eww’ scrunch of her nose (she detested cigarette smoke), she stepped out onto the patio space to join him. “Hi, honey,” she murmered against his cheek as she kissed him good morning. “Honey?” she repeated when he didn’t answer her, or even look at her. He just kept staring out at the ocean, almost in a daze it seemed. “William?” she asked in a panicked tone, what is it? What’s wrong?” William finally looked at her, his indigo blue eyes bore right into her green ones. They scared her, she didn’t like this one bit. This was a ‘Spike’ expression, one that terrified her. “Why don’t ‘you’ tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he almost growled, through clenched teeth.

Buffy was sitting on the chair next to Will’s, still out on the balcony. Since he’d asked her ‘what was wrong’ they hadn’t said anything to each other. Will had smoked another full cigarette since then, but hadn’t spoken again. He just sat and stared at her, intently; Buffy felt like he was trying to read her thoughts. Finally he said quietly, “Xander called me this morning, Buffy,” then he took another drag from his cigarette. “Oh,” she mumbled, “I see. So ‘he’ told you about the job thing?” The man next to her sighed, “guess he thought you’d already said something, Buff. That or he didn’t want me blindsided. He is my friend too, babe,” he explained when she shot him that betrayed look. His beautiful blue eyes looked so sad to her, like a dissapointed young child. Will’s hair was all uncombed and spikey. Actually, tight little curls had began to form after it had dried from his shower. Buffy loved his hair like this, much more so then when he forced it back into submission with a comb and gel. The whole sight of him, like this, so vulnerable and hurt, so trying not to let her see how much so; well it tore at her heart like a knife.

“I wanted to talk to you about it last night, Will,” she explained softly as she scooched her chair closer to his. “Honestly, I did,” she continued and placed her right hand over his left one. “I just never got the opportunity to bring it up, you know? I mean, we got kinda’ busy, remember?” He turned his hand up to hold hers, tightly, “yeah, that we did, Princess,” he agreed with a warm smile, apparently remembering just ‘how busy’ they had gotten. ‘There’s my Will’ she thought, relieved to see his lovely smile again. Encouraged, Buffy began to talk about the job opening at ‘The Chateau’ her old position. “Amy quit last week,” she explained to him, “Tucker, her husband got accepted at Harvard to do his post grad work. Of course Amy and the kids are going with him. I trained Amy for that job before I left the restaurant, remember, Will?” He just nodded so she went on.

“Anyway,” she continued with enthusiasm, “Amy called me to tell me about everything and I figured that going back to work might be good for me. For both of us Will.” He stood up and walked back over to the balcony, lit another cigarette, “don’t I give you everything you want, Buffy?” he asked so quietly, that Buffy had to join him at the rail just to get close enough to hear him. “Don’t I give you everything you want, Buffy?” he repeated, much louder now. “Yes, of course you do, but,” she searched her brain to come up with just the right words to say. The best way to explain how she felt to this man she loved so dearly. “I want to do something, honey. Do something constructive with my time and energy and I was good at that job. I know it’s not brain surgery, it’s not even what I went to school for, but I’m good at it and it could keep me busy. While you’re not here, Will. You know I do miss you, too and I don’t have any kind of career to occupy my mind, not like you do.” Her statement had started out pretty strong, but sadly, ended up as almost a whimper.

Spike considered this for a moment and his hesitation encouraged Buffy to add, “just think of this. You could even come here more, the nights you work at home. I’ll be gone at work, most of the evening; you could come here and do whatever work you do at your place on those nights. I’d be gone at work, wouldn’t get in your way here.” He could tell she thought this was a pretty good selling point to him, and normally it probably would have been, but he had the feeling she was holding something back, something real important. “You are not in my way, Buffy,” he said to her evenly, “you are a distraction for me when I’m working. A very pleasant one, but never think you are in my way.” When he looked into her emerald green eyes, he caught a look of doubt, just briefly there. “Besides, Will,” she began cautiously, “I guess I kind of would like to make my own way again. Is that so bad?”

‘That was it!’ he screamed, silently, ‘that’s what she’s holding back. She doesn’t want to have to depend on me anymore. I’m losing her!’ Spike began to panic, it started as a big knot in his gut, traveled up to his throat, causing it to tighten up and almost choke him. His mind raced, he went into his panic defense mode, which was not necessarily a good thing where the Giles men were concerned. Like his own father, and his grandfather before him, Spike covered his panic with anger that could easily evolve into a full blown rage.

“NO!” he roared at her like a lion. Buffy flinched and shrunk back from him, momentarily stunned. She seemed to recover quickly enough and crossed her slim arms over her ample breasts. A stubborn expression marred her beautiful face and she got that damn lower lip pout going that usually did Spike in within seconds. “No to what?” she asked with a jutt of her little chin, “to my working; your staying here to work at home? Me making my own pathetic little way? All three?” Spike could see the red flush of anger rush into her pixi face and he rued the way that he’d yelled ‘no’ at her like he did. But, the fact was, no way in bloody hell was he going to lose Buffy and he knew in his heart and soul, he would lose her. If she went back to work that is, he would lose her completely. Swallowing very hard, Spike looked away from her, couldn’t look at her, she’d break him down if he did. “No to the working bullshit and you making your own way, Buffy,” he said firmly.

“Hmph!” she snorted at him and stomped her little foot before she turned and slammed back into the apartment. “Oh that’ll show him, Buffy! Throw a tantrum like a brat kid and storm off,” she chided herself. “Grow up, girl! Calm down and convince him how this would be good for you both. Later,” she kept on the conversation in her head, “you can talk more about it later.” Poor Mr. Gordo, who had been asleep on the sofa, took one look at pissed Buffy, assessed the situation and made a mad dash for the extra bedroom. Buffy stopped in her tracks, turned around and faced Will who had followed her into the living room, “I want to discuss this later, Will,” she said calmly, “when we are both calmer and thinking clearer.” He just shook his head, “I’m calm now, Buffy,” he responded, “but I’m not going to change my mind about this.” She turned around, walked into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. “Asshole!” she hissed as she dug around her dresser drawer for the keys to her Corvette, “bloody stupid, narrow minded, cave man mentality asshole!” When she turned around with her keys and wallet to leave the room, she found William standing right in front of her. “I didn’t even hear him come in!” she thought, stunned. “I like you too,” he smirked at her, apperently having heard the whole ‘asshole’ thing. “Well I don’t like you right now!” she shot back as she stormed past him.

“Well, I don’t like you right now!” she spat at him as she passed him by like a hurricane. “Buffy, God dammit,” he shouted as he grabbed her arm to stop her, “just listen to me, okay?” She shook her head ‘no’ stubbornly, “let me go Will,” she ordered, “I really don’t like you right now, I’m serious. I need to get out for a while, away from you and your damned ‘cave man’ attitude!” He ‘wanted’ to shake her, but he would never, ever really ‘do’ such an awful thing. Spike would never physically rough house with Buffy, unless they were playing during sex or something, never in anger. “Buffy, don’t leave,” he begged, “just stay for a minute, listen to me and then if you have to go for a while; I’ll let you.” She looked at him, wide-eyed, “you’ll let me!” she gasped in disbelief. “You’ll let me?” she muttered again. “Oh this just keeps getting better.”

“Buffy, please just sit down, here,” he led her over the their bed. The one they enjoyed so much together only hours earlier. She sat down in a huff and crossed her legs, then her arms. “Speak,” she commanded him like she would a dog. “I just,” he began as he dug around for a cigarette, which he didn’t light; just held it and paced around the room. Finally he stopped in front of her and hunkered down before her, his arms on his knees. “Buffy I don’t ‘want’ you to work, outside of the house that is.” ‘Why not?’ she asked him with her eyes, not her voice. “Because I want you to work ‘in’ the house,” he explained, best as he could. “I want to marry you Buffy,” he continued, “you know that. I want to have children with you and make a family together. If you would only marry me and knock out a couple of kids right away, you’d be so damned busy that you wouldn’t want to work. Now would you?”

Buffy felt quesy, but she fought down the feeling and answered Will’s question with one of her own. “Am I to understand,” she choked out, “that you think that if I marry you, get knocked up right away and give the Gile’s clan an heir or two for the family business……that, that I’ll be too busy to feel any discontent in my life? That I’ll be happy as a clam in chowder? Is that what you really think, Will?” She ended on a raspy note, probably because her teeth were clenched so tight that she could barely speak coherently. ‘Yes’ he nodded. “I see,” she sighed in frustration. “Now, I’m not only your paid whore,” she shook her own head sadly, “I’m a brood mare, too, right?” He grabbed her and pulled her against him so tightly she could barely breathe, “God no, baby,” he whimpered in her ear, “you’re neither. You’re my love, Buffy. My Queen, my Goddess.”

She felt his face against hers, now, his cheeks wet with his own tears. “I love you, Princess,” he moaned, “I love you, love you so much. Just don’t leave me. Don’t ever go away from me, please.” His desperate pleading proved to be Buffy’s undoing, “I won’t leave you, Will,” she made him a whispered promise. “I won’t leave you or go away from you. Because I love you, my darling,” she eased back down on the bed, still embraced in his arms. When they both lay back on the silky covers, she pulled his blond head into her chest and began to stroke his curly hair tenderly. “Will,” she whispered softly, “I, I’m just not ready to marry you, yet. Please try to understand, but I do love you.” He murmered something she didn’t quite understand against her right breast and snuggled as close as he could to her. She hoped that he had ‘bought’ the lame excuse she’d given for not marrying him right now. Because he wouldn’t be able to handle the real reason she’d never marry him; that she was sure of.

They made love again; good old fashioned make-up sex as Buffy liked to call it. Sometimes it could be the best kind of love making. Later after more showers, they ate lunch on the balcony together. Buffy decided to go to ‘The Chateau’ and tell Xander, personally, that she was not going to take the position, though she hardly needed to bother. Spike had made damn sure that Harris was well informed about that before he and Buffy had even argued about it. Xander hadn’t seemed real surprised either by ‘Spike’s’ decision when they talked on the phone that morning. The macho part of Spike was somewhat embarrassed that he’d actually cried to Buffy earlier, in bed, but he couldn’t help himself. He loved her to the point of obsession and missed her when they weren’t together. However, it was condusive to Spike’s plans at the moment to have Buffy completely out of the apartment. Spike did not buy Buffy’s excuse for not marrying him right now, not all of it anyway. He just knew she was covering something up and today, he had a lot of phone calls to make and arrangements to discuss with certain people, starting with Buffy’s own OB/GYN, Dr. Alexis Denisof.

“Baby,” he called to her, just as she started to go out the door, “I’ve been thinking about what you said; about keeping busy?” Spike felt a wave of remorse when he saw the dissapointment in Buffy’s eyes and realized he’d hurt her badly. “God I’m such a prick of a control freak!” he thought, momentarily disgusted with himself. She sat down next to him on the sofa and he clasped her warm hand. “Doesn’t Willow’s girlfriend, Tara McClay teach an advanced Art’s Course at Sunnydale University?” Buffy visibly brightened, her lips twitched into a small smile, “yes, she does.” He nodded, “well, why don’t you give Willow and Tara a ring, see if you can get into the class, two nights a week or something? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She seemed to comtemplate this for a moment and broke out into a huge grin, “I’d like that, Will,” she gushed, hugging him enthusiastically. “Okay then,” he chuckled, quite pleased with himself, “you run along and see Xander, when you get back, you can ring up Tara and set something up, right?”

As soon as Buffy had left the apartment to go see Xander, Spike called information on his cell phone and had them ring Dr. Denisof’s office for him. A well-known man like Spike Giles had no problem getting through to the doctor to speak with him personally. “Yes, Mr. Giles?” Dr. Denisof’s businesslike voice came on the line. “I was wondering Dr.” began Spike carefully, “well, that’s not really true, Buffy and I were wondering if you could ‘reassure’ us about something?” The Dr. was more then willing to talk to William Giles, it seemed, probably because Spike and gone with Buffy to every appointment she’d had with the man. Dr. Denisof seemed impressed with Spike; he appreciated a man who took his partner’s birth control methods and female health seriously, as much as William Gile’s did Buffy’s. This proved to work to Spike’s advantage.

Spike explained to Dr. Denisof how Buffy had absent mindedly missed two or maybe three days of her birth control pills. “She’s really embarrassed, Dr. You know Buffy, she’s too proud to admit she screwed up and didn’t even want to call you herself. But,” he continued in his most convincing tone, “she is really worried that she might get preggers accidently. I told her, of course, that two or three days missed was probably no big deal, but she’s really upset and worried. So, I called you to get the information we needed, just to reassure her?” The Doctor reassured Spike that it was probably okay that Buffy had forgotten a couple of pills, but to make sure she got her pill schedule straightened out immediately.

“You know, William,” he was calling him William by now, “I’ve got Buffy on the lowest strength perscription for birth control in the States. She’s such a little thing and there is a history of certain female cancers in her family. There has been documentation of some women getting pregnant even on this particular birth control pill, but very, very rarely of course,” he added quickly. Spike’s ears perked up at that.

“So,” Spike sighed in false relief, “it’s pretty safe to say that there’s no chance of Buffy being pregnant from forgetting her pills for a few days, this time anyway, right?” There was a silence on the other end and Spike smirked, pleased with himself for seemingly pulling this one off. “Well, William, it’s probably safe to say she isn’t pregnant now, but,” the doctor hesitated, “but I think I’d use some other percautions for at least a week or so. Perhaps some over the counter profilatics? Again, more than likely Buffy

is ‘safe’ but if you two are not ready for children, then I think you might want to be ‘sure,’ better safe then sorry, you know?”

Spike broke out in a full fledged grin, glad for modern science and the telephones, even small, up-to-date ones like this cell, that afforded the privacy they did. “I guess then that these pills are pretty built up in Buffy’s system, right? Her blood’s probably pickled in them and she could probably miss two weeks worth or more without getting pregs, eh, doctor?” he actually chuckled into the phone. Spike swore he heard the good Doctor gasp on the other end. “Oh, good grief no, no, William. That’s not what I mean at all. Like I said, Buffy’s perscription is the weakest there is, if she were to miss even more then five days, her chances of getting pregnant would go up at least 80 percent, no question. We must remember, with birth control pills as with any perscription, patients must follow the instructions and dosages as closely as possible.” A smug, easy smile spread slowly on Spike’s lips, “well, thank you Dr. Denisof. I’ll be sure and tell Buffy just what you said. She’ll feel so much better, thanks again.”

After Spike clicked off his cell phone, he went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Right on the top shelf, plain as day, set Buffy’s birth control pills. With just the tiniest tinge of guilt, Spike took the pills out of the medicine cabinet and examined them thoroughly. “No problem,” he told himself, “Doc should be able to duplicate this whole package and replace them with placebos.” He caught his reflection in the cabinet mirror, “I have to do this,” he assured his image, defensively, “Buffy needs a bit of a push into reality. Okay, okay, so I’m a selfish prick who can’t bear to lose her!” he finally admitted to himself.

He was dialing ‘Doc’s’ office number before he got back out onto the balcony. ‘Doc’ as Spike called him was actually Dr. Thomas Snyder, a genious of a medical expert who was just a tad on the disreputable side. Spike had ‘helped’ him with a major medical malpractice suit that was brought against his practice about a year before; Spike’s ‘people’ had simply made it go away. Now the Doctor owed him a big favor and Spike was about to call it in. “Doc?” Spike greeted him, jovially, “hey mate, I need a favor from you.”

A/N: Okay, please, please don’t hate me for writing Spike like such a controlling ‘cave man’ (as Buffy called him) in these last few chapters. It’s condusive to my story to have him this way, even if he’s being totally idiotic with this dastardly scheme right now! Remember, most of Spike’s schemes tend to backfire on him. As for Buffy, she’s very much in love with Spike in this story, but she’s not blind to his faults and I assure you, she will come into her own eventually; and please don’t be afraid to review. All constructive criticism is welcome, of course, all loving reviews are welcome too! Thanks, S.

MAKE HER OWN WAY

Chapter 4: ‘Addicted to Love!’


Buffy got home a little before 3:00 that afternoon. When she walked into the apartment, she knew right off that Will wasn’t there and she got a little nervous for a moment. A small white note set on the coffee table, right by her book of Great Artists. ‘Princess’ it said on the outside in Will’s lovely handwriting. She opened it quickly and read the contents: I’m going to stop by the office for like an hour, baby, it began. I have some stuff to clear up. I’ll be home by 5:00. How about we go out to eat tonight? Wear something pretty, okay? I want to show my girl off to everyone. I have a surprise for you, so be prepared, it’s really big, baby. I just know you’ll love the idea. Love you always, Will

She wondered what Will was planning for them, though she had no doubt it would be ‘big’; Will’s ideas were always, big. Buffy took a long soak in the large tub and thought about her plan to go back to school. Maybe if she started off slow, going back to school, getting her degree, she could somehow begin to take control of her life back. If things worked out, she’d even be able to get a nice career going in the Arts field that she so loved and this thought excited her so much that she dismissed the resentment she felt for Will earlier over ‘The Chateau’ job. Xander had been more then understanding about her refusal to take her old position back; a little too understanding for Buffy’s taste. Apparently William had made it clear to their friend that Buffy was not coming back to work there, period. “Just like William to always work things his way,” she grumbled, suddenly irritated with him again.

‘Flashback; Buffy’s POV’


It was Friday night at the Bronze, Buffy’s second job and certainly her least favorite one. Riley Finn, the manager and her boss had informed her it was time to announce ‘last call for alcohol’ around the club, even if it wasn’t yet time for it. She had reminded Riley that it was only 12:45 AM, far too early to cut off the booze from the patrons, but he’d been adamant. “Go ahead, Buff,” he ordered again, “everyone’s getting’ off early tonight. I’m tired and with Samantha so close to delivering our baby, I want to get home as soon as possible.” This seemed reasonable enough to Buffy so she did as she was told and informed the club patrons that it was cut off time for the beer, mixed drinks and wine the place served.

“Just as well,” she muttered to herself as she took the last orders of the night, “I need to get home and hash this ‘problem’ out with Angel.” They’d argued that very afternoon; about her quitting this very job of all things. Angel didn’t want her to quit, either of her jobs; no doubt because it was Buffy that paid for most everything they had or did together. Not that Angel could afford much of anything, except his own apartment, of course, that he swung quite well, with his folks allowance they sent him every month. His band was not doing real well, locally or otherwise and Buffy realized quite a while back, it would never be a success. For one thing, there was a certain lack of talent; she just hated to be the one to tell Angel that. (The one time she did, Angel had become enraged and oh brother!) Besides, she liked Oz, the lead guitar player and her best friends, Willow Rosenberg’s boyfriend. The truth was, Oz and Devon, the drummer and even Scott Hope, the bass player would have been much better off without Angel in the band. Problem was it ‘was’ Angel’s band and no one had the guts to tell him he lacked the necessary talent to keep the whole thing together. He could sing, Angel could, but he was not that spectacular enough to carry his weight with the other, true musicians.

Buffy dragged her bone weary ass out of the back entrance to the Bronze along with Cordelia, or Cordy as she was called, another waitress.. They always made it a point to walk out together to their cars, at least in twos or accompanied by one of the bouncers from the club. The Bronze was not in the best part of town and there had been problems before after hours so Riley made sure all of the girls never went outside alone. Tonight Buffy was just beat out, the two jobs were taking their toll on her; along with college and of course, Angel O’Connor. She dared a thought to the handsome Mr. Giles who’d left her that outrageous tip and sweet note the other day at the restaurant. Angel had no idea that Buffy had been tipped that kind of money, or he’d blow it, for sure, on some stupid amp or ‘other things’ even worse.

Thinking back on Mr. William Giles, she felt a bit guilty, she did love Angel, at least she thought she did, but that British guy at The Chateau was pretty outstanding. “Probably just the money that’s so attractive,” she thought outloud, “he’s probably the biggest dick head in the State.” Cordy stopped by Buffy’s car with her, her own car sat right next to it. Although Cordelia Chase worked at the Bronze, she came from pretty good money herself; this was Cordy’s way of rebelling against her strict parents. Buffy was sure the ‘working girl’ thing was just a passing phase with her friend. Cordelia was saying something to Buffy, but she didn’t quite catch it all, she was too busy staring at the black Porshe that was across the now fairly empty parking lot. Most of all, Buffy was too busy staring at Mr. William Giles, himself, who was leaning up against ‘his’ Porshe apparently, smoking a cigarette and staring right back at her.

“Buff? Are you even hearing me?” Cordy asked in exhasperation. Then she looked at the direction that her friend was staring and saw William. “Oh shit!” Cordy cried out, excitedly, “that’s him isn’t it? That’s the English guy from the Restaurant, huh?” Buffy thought Cordelia might start jumping up and down in excitement for her, making her a bit sorry she’d ever told the brunette about the other night. “Cordelia,” she hissed, “stop it. He’ll think I actually talked about him; told people about the tip and note and everything. Stop it! I mean it!” Cordelia stopped doing her version of Xander’s ‘Snoopy Dance’ and mumbled, “go over there! Go Buffy Summers, I mean that. He’s following you, finding out about you, I just know it! He’s mesmerized by the great Buffy Summers! Go, go now!” Buffy was afraid that the taller brunette girl was going to start clapping her hands together in delight. Cordy detested Angel with a passion and of course she’d welcome any opportunity to get Buffy to dump him. “Look!” Cordy squealed in delight, “he’s coming over here!” She grabbed Buffy’s arm roughly, “you stay and talk to him, I’ll make myself scarce,” she ordered with a conspiratal wink.

Buffy looked at her friend as if she’d lost her mind. “Cordelia,” she sighed in frustration, “I don’t even know this guy. He could be a stalker or something. God, Cordy, look how he followed me here!” Cordy stopped giggling long enough to give Buffy that patent ‘wiser then thou’ look she was so famous for. “Buff,” she whispered, at least for once, “Xander told me this guy is ‘the real deal’ and I mean the ‘real, real deal! He went and talked to Xand about you that night, asked all about you, what you were taking in college, your social life, everything!” Buffy shot her friend a look of betrayal. “Sorry, Buffy. But Xander told me not to tell you and you know the ‘girlfriend’ code of honor; ‘never ever repeat a secret your significant other tells you!’ Not unless it’s under threat of death or loss of your trust fund,” she added quickly. Buffy had to consider what Cordy had told her. Xander and Cordy had been together for two years now and it definitely looked permenant. Besides, Xander adored Buffy, everyone knew that, he’d never steer her wrong about some other man and his intentions towards her.

“Besides,” Cordy reasoned, “Riley’s car is right here,” she pointed at the 4 X 4 truck next to the Buffy’s older Mustang, “and the bouncers are still here. They’ll be out in just a few. Your’e safe, Buff, promise!” Buffy pondered Cordy’s words, yes Riley would be out in fifteen minutes or so, Clem and Larry, the bouncers, would be right ahead of him; she ‘was’ safe, after all. Besides, Buffy Summers could take care of herself very well, thank you. “Oh,” Buffy muttered, “alright, Cordy. Goodnight and drive careful.” Cordy just went ahead and did it, she clapped her hands together in delight, hugged Buffy goodnight, jumped into her sporty blue Mazda Miata and sped off. Once Cordelia had left, William sauntered the rest of the way to Buffy and her car. “Yours?” he pointed at the lime green colored 1970 Mustang to which she responded with a silent nod. “Cute,” he said simply and glanced away from her. Now that the man was actually up close and personnal, neither of them seemed to be able to say much to each other.

“So,” Buffy stammered, breaking the silence first, “what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this, William Giles?” she asked, ‘oh that was original, Buffy,’ she chided herself. “Looking for you, Princess,” he answered, stating the obvious while breaking into a rather stunning smile. “Damn but he’s fine,” Buffy sighed inwardly. “Oh,” is all she could say back, trying to avoid his indigo blue eyes and failing miserably. “I was wondering, Miss Buffy Summers,” he began softly, “if maybe you’d have a cup of coffee with me. Someplace close by, of course?” Buffy jumped a bit, startled by the question, “what, like tonight, I mean this morning? I mean, like now?” she asked, stumbling on her words. “Yeah,” he chuckled, evidently amused by her nervousness, “if you’re afraid I’ll bite, you can drive your own car, meet me. There’s a café right down the street, I’m sure you know it?” She was actually considering this insane thing, until she remembered Angel and their ‘talk’ they had to have. “Uhm, I can’t,” she mumbled, “I have to get home, sorry.”

This William looked dissapointed, but not necessary dissuaded by her refusal. “Boyfriend at home?” he asked with a slight pout. ‘Oh brother,’ Buffy thought when she saw that pout, ‘this guy is going to be trouble!’ “Well, no, not exactly at home, really. I mean, yes, I have a boyfriend, but we don’t live together or anything. In fact,” she admitted more to herself then him, “Angel’s probably not even at my place right now. God knows where he is or what he’s up to right this minute.” The look on William’s face brightened, “well, then, Buffy,” he said hopefully, “there’s no reason you can’t meet me now, is there?” First Buffy wondered why she was standing here telling this virtual stranger her personnal business; the second thing she wondered about is just how much William Giles ‘did know’ about Angel and the rest of that personnal business of hers. “Just how much do you know about me, Mr. Giles?” she asked, a very serious look on her face. “Not enough, Princess,” he responded evenly. “That’s why we need to go somewhere and talk, right now.”

Buffy glanced around the parking lot, “my boss, Riley, will be out soon, to go home and all, right behind the two bouncers that help him close up. “If you are not an honorable man, William Giles, they’ll see it in a heartbeat, understand?” William broke out in a grin, “well, Buffy I assure you, I’m a very honorable man. Just ask my Mum. I’ll give you her number in England, but she might be busy, though. She’s probably getting ready for a big dinner party and needs to plan the menu with the cooks. But, I’ll just jot the number down on this matchbook and……” Buffy rolled her eyes and tried not to smile, “okay, okay, I get it, William,” she sighed. “You’re an honorable man, at least in your mother’s eyes.” She couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Besides,” William rambled on with a smirk, your boss, Riley Finn and his two boys won’t be out for a while. Not until we’re both gone, at least. Had a chat with Finn earlier, he seems like a nice bloke, bit dense, but nice family man. Anyway, he was more then happy to wait until you’d made up your mind before he went home. I understand his wifey’s due any minute, shouldn’t really keep the poor girl waiting for hubby, should we. Why don’t you just follow me in your little car there and everyone will be happy. A real win/win situation for all concerned.” Buffy sighed with resignation, “oh, alright, William.” That’s how William and Buffy’s relationship had begun.




‘Present Day’


Buffy wrapped a plush, huge bath towel around her dried, naked body. She picked the CD player remote up from the end table and flipped through the disc selector until she found the one she was looking for ‘Robert Palmer’s ‘Riptide’ CD. Not only did she just love his ‘Addicted to Love’ song, but she just adored the singer himself. It nearly broke her heart when he’d passed away recently, way too soon; way too young. As strains of the song pounded through the stereo system, Buffy danced around the bedroom to the beat. She shook her bottom to the music as she pulled various outfits out of her the walk-in closet and tossed them on the bed. While she considered ‘the’ outfit to where to dinner tonight, with Will, she sang the lyrics of the song she knew so well: ‘The lights are on, but your not home; you’re mine, you’re not you own’. Shimmying about , Buffy held the black leather mini-skirt that Will had just bought her up to her waist and studied the look in her full length mirror. She almost had a heart attack when she saw Will’s reflection, standing right behind her in the mirror. “Wow,” he purred with a smile, “my own hot little private dancer!”

“Dammit Will!” she cried in alarm, “you nearly gave me a heart attack! What the heck! When did you get so darn good at sneaking up on me like that?” He grabbed the little skirt from her hands and tossed it on the bed with the other discarded clothing; “I believe I’ve always been pretty good at ‘sneaking up on you’ Princess,” he smirked again. Will picked her up and kissed her on her nose, “love the skirt, sweetheart,” he glanced over at the black leather mini, “but prefer you in this. Or out of it.” He pulled the towel off her body and attempted to carry her over to the clear side of their bed. “Oh no you don’t, William Giles,” she said, struggling from his graspy hands, “I’m still mad at you about the damn sneak up trick!” She grabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it back around her, “besides, I’m all clean and smelling nice. I’m going to finish getting ready for out dinner date, no monkey business, understand?” With a stern glare, she turned and flounced back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Spike chuckled to himself, “and any sane person could fault me for pulling out all the stops to keep her?” Buffy was a woman that a real man just had to have, no question. He fingered the bogus birth control package in his pocket, the one that Dr. Snyder had ‘perscribed’ for him to replace Buffy’s real pills. “Buffy,” he called out to her, casually, “did you call Willow or Tara about the school thing?” She came out of the bathroom, her silky blue robe pulled tight around her, “yeah, but no one answered. I left a message on their machine. I’m sure one of them will call me tonight or tomorrow.” His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her; it always did when she was like this, no makeup, her hair undone and damp from the shower. Buffy was beautiful inside and out; he was more determined then ever not to lose her. “Baby, I’m going to change, then have a smoke. Why don’t you go out and check the answering machine, maybe one of the girls have returned your call already?” With a nod okay, Buffy hurried out to the phone to check the messages, which gave Spike the chance he needed to slip the placebo pills back into the medicine cabinet. When he closed the cabinet door, he caught his reflection in the mirror again; it taunted him, or so it seemed. “You want to lose her, wanker?” he guiltily asked his image. The mirror Spike didn’t have an answer for that one.

Buffy came flying back into the bedroom a few minutes later. “Will,” she cried breathlessly, “Tara called back!” He couldn’t help but smile at her, she looked like an estatic child at Christmas. “I called her back and she said I can start anytime I want! Isn’t that great Will?” She threw her arms around him and nearly knocked him over onto the bed, “it’s great Princess,” he murmered, kissing the her damp, soft hair on the top of her head, “I mean it, Buffy. It’s really wonderful.” At least Spike was being honest about the college thing for Buffy. He didn’t have a problem with her going back to school and saw the benefits for both of them. It would keep her busy, her mind occupied and most of all, make her very happy. Which would make him happy, especially since she wouldn’t earn any income of her own while she went to school. Spike just loved win/win situations, especially when he was the one doing most of the winning.


“Okay,” he was saying, “let’s go out and make this a real celebration, Princess. I’ve made reservations at ‘La Tratorria’ up the coast. You love that place, don’t you Buff?” She was so stoked about the class that right now, if Will had said they were going to Macdonalds for Big Macs and fries she’d have been estatic. Everything was falling into place for her now and she just knew it was all going to work out. “Yes, Will. I love that restaurant, you know that. It’s the place you took me on our first official date!” Then she remembered the note he’d left earlier and curiosity got the best of her. “What’s the big surprise, Will?” she asked as she took his large hand in hers. “Tell me, please?” He got a sly look on his face, “nope, not until we get to the restaurant. Don’t want to ruin the surprise.” Buffy could tell that she was not going to get the info she wanted out of him right now, so she opted to wait and needle it from him over wine at the La Trattoria. “Okay,” she pouted half-heartedly, “I’ll just get dressed in some very pretty, very simple, very short and very deadly outfit. That’ll get it out of you.”

Buffy wore her favorite little black silk dress. It was simple, yet fancy, in it’s way; classy, yet short enough to show off her long legs. The fact that the dress was backless and had no sleeves didn’t hurt either and with diamond drop earrings and matching necklace that Will had given her for her birthday, the outfit was complete. William and her sat at the best table at the La Trattoria, in fact, if Buffy remembered right, the very table they’d sat at for their first date. These were the little things that this man remembered and did for her that made her love him even more; if only…… “You’re gorgeous, Buffy,” he said warmly, toasting her with his wine glass. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Giles,” she quipped back, returning the toast. Tony the Matre’D scurried over with another bottle of wine for their table, “whoa, Tony,” Buffy giggled, “we do have to get home tonight.” The older man smiled warmly at them, he’d been their waiter on that first date and always seemed to remember them, “no problem, Mrs.Giles. You need a place to stay tonight, the Inn next door is perfect.” With a wink at William, Tony dissapeared back into the kitchen area.

“Mrs. Giles?” she quirked an inquisitive brow at Spike, who just shrugged it off. “What can I say, baby,” he chuckled, taking her hand across the table, “everyone who’s sane can see a perfect love match like ours.” ‘Hmmmm’ was all she could say. “Okay,” he said, “time to throw the big surprise at you.” Buffy perked up and wiggled around in her chair with impatient excitement. He could tell she was just biting her tongue, trying not to ask what it was. Spike raised her little hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly, “I was wondering. What do you think about going back to England for a couple of weeks. No work for me, just a vacation for us. Some time together in the old Motherland and all that?” Buffy looked at him, momentarily stunned then broke out into a huge grin. “I’d love it, Will,” she gushed happily, “I love England!” He sighed in relief, inwardly, a part of him surprised that she agreed so readily as he had hoped she would. Pulling his chair around to be closer to her, he put his arm about her slim, bare shoulders lovingly. “We’d have to stay with mum and dad for a few, of course,” he informed her cautiously, “but then we could go into the city; see some museums, shop at ‘the’ big shops Heck, baby, we could stay at the Bed and Breakfast outside of Bath you loved so much the last time for a few days. Would you like that, sweetheart?”


Buffy looked so damn sweet, like always, really, that Spike felt that twinge of guilt again. He did have ulterior motives for dragging her off to England, immediately actually, and if she knew the half of it, she’d be furious. “We could go as soon as next week, honey,” he added, stroking her flushed cheek, “would that be okay?” She beamed back at him and nodded her head, “I’d love to Will. You know I just adore Rupert and Jenny and would love to see your sister and her husband again. And of course I couldn’t pass up that romantic bed and breakfast” she giggled, her face blushed adorably. ‘That’s my girl’ he thought, a tidal wave of warmth surging over him. “Thought I’d ring Dad and have him send the company jet this time. We can fly to New York first, for the weekend, do some shopping at Saks and Bloomingdales. Maybe buy you a whole new wardrobe for the trip, not that you need it. Plan to keep you naked in bed most of the time.” Now his sweet Buffy blushed hot and red, he just loved her innocence, no matter how long they spent together. “Okay, Will,” she whispered shyly and kissed his cheek softly, “I can’t wait, really.”


They ended up staying at the Blue Whale Inn for the night. It was just next to the restaurant and Buffy felt better about spending the night there instead of chancing driving home. Will could hold his liquer, no question, better then anyone else she’d ever known, but with things looking up for them she didn’t want to tempt fate and have them get pulled over by the CHP or worse, have an accident. Things were going too good right now and Buffy was just too supersticious to chance a problem. Their room was the best, of course, with a balcony that jutted right out over the waves of Pacific Ocean. It was pretty late, almost 10:00 PM when they registered and settled in for the night, but even though the sky was pitch black, the sea water gleamed bright and shiny from the moonlight. The view was magnificent, but she quickly went into the huge bathroom to ready for bed, while Will went out on the balcony to have a cigarette and call his dad in England to make the arrangements for their trip. All in all, things were looking pretty darn good for Buffy right now and she decided to put off another ‘ big talk’ with Will for a while longer.


“Dad,” Spike greeted his father on his cell phone as he stood looking out at the Pacific Ocean, a cigarette in his left hand. “Where are you son?” his dad asked on the other end of the line, “I hear the ocean.” Spike explained the evening to his father, Buffy’s concern over the alcohol consumption and their talk earlier in the morning. “Oh good grief, William,” his father sighed, “I hope you put things in order.” The younger Giles could just see his dad, taking off his glasses, rubbing them on his shirt nervously and it made him chuckle. “I think I’ve got it under control Dad,” Spike assured him, “in fact,” he continued proudly, “Buffy and I are coming to England, next week I think. I was wondering if you’d send the company jet over, let us fly to New York first, where I will wine and dine my precious Buffy and buy out Bloomingdales for her.” Rupert assured his only son that he’d be thrilled to do just that, anything to get him and his future daughter-in-law to England for a visit. Spike looked around to make sure Buffy was still in the other rooms of the suite, “listen Dad,” he whispered cautiously, “I’ve come up with a perfect plan to rope Buffy into marrying me, right away. Want to know what you think.”


For the next few minutes, Spike explained to his father just what he’d done to secure a marriage to Buffy and how he thought his plan would succeed. “Well done, son,” Rupert told him, “best thing in the world for you is to marry Buffy and have a little Giles’ tribe of your own. I think Buffy will come around later, see how this is for the best, truly.” Spike was so damned pleased with himself he almost shouted out to the Pacific. Making his father proud was as important to him as crushing a business rival, although, it didn’t quite rate up there with making Buffy happy. “So you think I’m right in this Dad?” he asked the old man. “Of course you’re doing the right thing, son. And William,” his father added, “nothing would make your mother and I happier then to have our first grandchild conceived on British soil. Make sure that you take advantage of your alone time together with Buffy while you’re here.” Spike laughed out loud, “no worries there, Dad,” it was his turn to assure his father, “Buffy and I ‘take advantage’ of our alone time every chance we get.” When he hung up the cell phone, Spike lit another cigarette, only smoking it half way down before stubbing it out and joining Buffy in bed. “Hope she’s still awake,” he thought to himself.


A/N: In the next chapter, we’ll meet Jenny, Spike’s doting mother and Rupert Giles his formidable father. Maybe this will explain just why Spike is the way he is. Oh, and a credit to Robert Palmer, Riptide is the CD disc in my car right now. And (wordy aren’t I) I used to own a lime green 70’ Mustang (believe it or not) so that’s why I had this be Buffy’s car. It will play into the storyline later. Thanks, Luv, S

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 5: ‘Captains of Industry’


In her three years together with Will, Buffy had never been to New York City, other then a stop over a year ago. That was when Will and her had gone to England to meet and visit with his parents. This time, when they landed at La Guardia Airport, a limo was waiting to whisk them to the Hilton and a waiting suite. Buffy was so excited to be here in ‘The Big Apple’ that she forgot to be nervous about going back to England to see Will’s folks, his sister Drusilla and her husband Ethan Rayne. She liked them, really, all of them, even poor, odd Drusilla, and especially Will’s mother, Jenny. Yes, she even liked Rupert Giles, his dad, but she found the man to be more then indimitating and she hated the fact that he held so much sway over William. It was Rupert who had molded his son and who had influenced Will’s career alter ego, Spike, into the ruthless business man he was today. Though Buffy was fully aware that the elder Mr. Giles adored her, she found his control over his only son quite frightening. That and the fact that she was sure Will’s dad was encouraging him to marry Buffy and immediately start shelling out little heirs for the Giles family name. Add that all up, and no amount of his money, breeding and true English charm could keep Buffy from fearing Rupert Giles. If not for the gentler influence of Jenny, Will’s mother, Rupert would have become even more of an unstoppable tyrant then he already was. The sad truth was, Buffy wouldn’t, actually she couldn’t marry Will as long as he continued to be a clone of his father, at least in business matters. And, Spike, showed no signs of veering off that course, so she would never marry him, period. No matter how much she loved William Giles.

Right now, she was so stoked (dating myself here!) about being at the New York Hilton’s finest suite, that she couldn’t help but run from room to room looking at everything. Especially the decorating scheme, and the view! “Oh Will,” she practically skipped out onto the balcony, “you’ve got to come see this! Right now!” She scanned the huge, very plush front living room area to find Will on his cell phone, pacing about in front of the expensive coffee table. The tone in his voice and scowl on his face alerted her to the fact that he’d already broken his promise of no business on this vacation. This was ‘Spike’ all the way, his phone voice rising by the second, rambling on about some shakey deal at home. “Look Charles,” she heard him growl, “the fact is, I’m not there, so for Christ’s sake, improvise something. I sure as hell pay you and your sidekicks, Robin Wood and that ponce Wesly what’s his name enough to handle things while I’m gone home to England for a while!” He caught sight of Buffy staring at him, her arms folded across her chest, that ‘you promised me, Will’ frown on her face. “Just handle it!” he shouted, a little less loudly this time, clicked it off and tossed it on the Hotel couch. “Sorry, Princess,” he mumbled, “I swear to God I can’t take a piss without some major upheaval at my work!” She refused to stop the scowl thing until he came over to her and wrapped his arms about her. “What did you want me to see, luv?” he asked softly, kissing her forehead lovingly.

“The view,” she sighed and pointed out over the balcony they both now stood on, “it’s breathtaking Will, isn’t it?” Spike stared out at the scenery before them, “yes it’s breathtaking Buffy,” he assured her. Although, the fact was that he really just saw New York City as another big, noisy and dirty city, much like his own London; just set on another continent. Not nearly as beautiful as the view from their own apartment in Sunnydale. But, if Buffy wanted ‘breathtaking’ then breathtaking it would be for them both. It scared him sometimes, the fact that he loved her so bloody much that it hurt to be away from her for any time at all. This instinctive self preservation of his was what was driving him to take such drastic measures to keep her, no matter what the cost might be later. “Okay,” he broke out of his thoughts quickly, “what shall we do today? It’s only just 4:00 PM eastern time on a Friday, so we’ve got the whole evening ahead of us. What do you want to do, baby, get all dressed up and go out to eat? See a show first? Anything you want?”

His Buffy smiled softly and seemed to ponder his question for a moment or two, “you know what,” she murmered as she hugged him tightly, “I’d really like to just stay around here tonight Will. I mean you know, just watch some TV, drink some wine and have room service for supper. Wouldn’t you like to eat in tonight?” He couldn’t help himself, he broke out in one of his patent smirks, quirking up his scarred left eyebrow and running his tongue over his top teeth. “Oh, yeah,” he teased, “I so would love to eat in tonight!” She rewarded him with an immediate bright red blush that shot right down from her forehead to the bottom of her sleek little neck. “Oh Will for God’s sake,” she pushed him gently, but firmly from her, trying so hard not to smile, “ is sex all you think about?” Her tone of exasperation warned him to be careful, but her own smirk and giggle told him she really didn’t mind his sexual innuendos. “Can’t help it, luv,” he clasped her close again, “it’s hard not to think sex when your lover is so damn sexy.” She looked at him with a frustrated half-smile, ‘Hmmmm’ is all she could say back. Then, “actually,” she began, “I was thinking of maybe going to see the Ground Zero Memorial site and the Empire State Building, tomorrow, though,” she added. “You don’t have to come along if you don’t want. I’ll call for a cab, early in the morning and go by myself.” That way, she explained, he could get some work done, if he really had to, with her gone.

“Buffy,” he sighed, “of course I’ll go with you. I promised I’d not work this vacation, the hell with business back in old SunnyD. I’ll go with you, we can make a whole day of it. Besides,” he continued, rather sternly, “I don’t think you should go wondering off by yourself in this berg, I’d just die if anything happened to you and you don’t know this place at all.” She bristled immediately with his last statement, “I can take of myself, William Giles,” she muttered with a pout, “I’d be fine by myself, I’m not completely helpless you know!” William looked at her, rather crest-fallen, “no sweetheart. I didn’t mean it that way,” he stammered defensively, “but this is big bad New York City, not cozy, safe Sunnydale, California. I just worry, you know?” He had a point, she had to cop to that one, this wasn’t exactly familiar turf for her, and it was miles away from being safe Sunnydale. “What do you say,” he tickled her neck gently, “we’ll go to the Memorial, The Empire and then have a late lunch later at some overrated, overpriced place downtown. Then we’ll hit Bloomingdales and max out one of my cards, what do you say, Princess?” She considered this for a moment, “might be too tired after the sites to shop, Will,” she explained. “It’s not like a I need any new clothes, gosh, I can’t even get into my own walk-in closet now it’s so packed.”

. “Well,” he laughed, “I’ll have a new walk-in closet installed. What do you say, we’ll leave for England on Sunday evening, fly over five times zones at night and land in London by Monday morning. That way we can hit Bloomingdale’s on Sunday morning and afternoon. I’ll buy you anything you want, Buffy, even a diamond from Tiffanys.” The diamond remark left her a little uneasy, but she cuddled him close to her anyway; his arms were warm and welcome when he was like this. Not that Will was a safety net, he wasn’t, but he loved her the way she needed to be loved sometimes. Times like these were a reminder to Buffy that she had not always been loved the way she needed, not likeWill loved her. The quick rap on the Hotel door broke the magic of the moment. Will strode over to the door, it seemed he was a little put out that someone was disturbing ‘their’ moment together. “What?” he barked through the oaken door. “Hotel Host, Mr. Giles,” came a male voice from the other side, “with a ‘welcome gift’ from the Hilton.” Buffy giggled when Will rolled his eyes in exasperation, but signaled him to let the poor guy in. After all, he was only trying to do his job.

“I’m Andrew Whedon, official Welcome Host of the New York Hilton, Mr. Giles,” claimed the young man, rolling in a large cart of various goodies. He was a really young man, closer to Buffy’s age then Williams and just maybe a bit on the sensitive side. Buffy was glad she’d guided Will into allowing the guy in and with somewhat of a cordial attitude. “The Hilton welcomes you and your lovely lady and offers this as a small token of our esteem.” The cart held champagne, strawberries and cream and at least two dozen red and white roses that were beyond beautiful. “Thank you, Andrew,” Buffy gushed gleefully, smelling the gorgeous flowers. “Yeah, thanks a bunch,” William mumbled. She noticed William handed the guy a fifty dollar bill for a tip and was pleased when young Andrew saluted him with thanks, graciously. “Enjoy your stay,” he chortled, even as he dissapeared out the door. “Thank you Will,” she echoed to her lover, “I think that’s just one of things I love about you, your English sense of decorum.” Will walked over to her, slowly, but with purpose, “you always do bring out the gentleman in me, Buffy,” he whispered in her ear. “Those roses,” he continued with a warm smile, “remind you of something?”


‘Flashback: Spike’s POV’


Buffy went with him, okay, actually, she followed him, in her rather homely little 1970 lime green Mustang to the café that he’d asked her to. But, at least she’d showed up, just minutes after they’d left the parking lot of that lousy club she worked at. She seemed shy, Spike had to admit, somewhat at a loss for what to do in this situation. Certainly a pleasant change from the more obvious women he was used to. When they’d walked into the rather generic café, Buffy seemed nervous to him and he felt bad, like he’d forced her to come or something. The hostess was generic, just like the café, a bored, overworked woman in her forties, probably unhappy to be at work at this time of day. They sat in a corner booth, he on one side, her on the other, she’d certainly have it no other way, at least not for now, he chuckled to himself. Spike noticed Buffy eyed the other patrons tables with interest, their meals seemed to attract her attention. “Hungry, luv?” he asked her. “Oh,” she squeaked “no, I mean, not really. Well, okay, yeah, a little,” she finally admitted, embarrassed. “Let’s order then, shall we? I’ll treat.” He stated this more then asked and this little angel looked horrified. “No!” she cried out, desperately scanning the café to make sure no one had heard. “I mean, I couldn’t, shouldn’t let you treat. That would seem to much like a date, you know? Like I said, I’ve got a boyfriend and it wouldn’t be right for me to accept your offer of breakfast.” He chuckled and shook his head, “okay. I get that, you don’t want to disrespect your guy. What do you say, I’ll buy breakfast, you leave the tip? That acceptable to you Buffy?” She sat, quietly, considering this new proposal of his, “okay, William. I’d like that, that would be fine. And I’ll leave a real good tip. I know how important tips and things are to them. Did you know that most of these women, even the swing shift workers, are single mothers; living on minimum wage, making it on tips?”

‘Oh, Buffy Summers,’ he’d thought right then, ‘you my little angel are definitely going to be the mother of my children!’ “I know it’s hard for them, Buffy,” he said instead, “probably no picnic for you either.” She blushed shyly, “I do okay, William,” she murmered, “I’m just a college student, not a single mother.” He shot her, what he hoped, was a dazzling smile, “education isn’t a simple thing either Buffy. I know, I attended some of the most posh, but roughest boarding schools in London.” The little blond angel glanced up at him, a look of sympathy in her beautiful green eyes, “not exactly the best of times?” she asked. “No,” he responded, “that’s how I got this rather angry scar above my left eyebrow.” The waitress, a heavy-set bitter looking brunette interrupted them to take their order. “I’ll have blueberry pancakes, sausage, a side of bacon and oh, yeah, a slice of apple pie for dessert,” Buffy ordered. Spike had to smile at the tiny girls request. Either she only ate like this sporadically, or she was one of those lucky birds, the ones that could eat like truck drivers and still stay slim. “I’ll have biscuits and gravy,” he stated, “and keep the coffee coming, please.” Buffy looked around the café, it appeared she was trying to kill time until their orders came, trying not to talk too much to him. “What’s your major?” he finally asked.

“Well, Liberal Arts, I guess,” she stammered back. “Arts in general. I’d like to follow in my Mom’s field and maybe work in a real gallery someday. And just what do you do, William Giles?” He smirked back at her, “I’m what you call a ‘Captain of Industry’ Princess, just like me Dad before me and his Dad before him.” For some reason, Spike felt the need to side step this part of his life with Buffy, for right now anyway. “Oh,”she replied, “so you’re like a Donald Trump or something?” Spike broke out in laughter, “well, after a fashion, I’m just a bit more aggressive then him.” Buffy scrunched up her face, momentarily, then broke out in a huge grin, “you’re playing with me right?” she asked with a giggle. “Somewhat,” he answered straightfaced. “What about you?” he asked, changing the subject, “what’s your story, Buffy Summers?” She shot him a wistful look, “well, my family lives in Los Angeles, that’s where I’m from originally. My Dad’s name is Hank, my Mom’s is Joyce and I have a little sister named Dawn. We call her Dawnie and she’s like almost twelve years younger then me..” Spike quirked up his scarred left brow, “they like you being up here, Buffy, away from them?” With a shake of her golden head she informed him that her family, the Summers of LA, did not like her up here without them. “What could I do,” Buffy pouted, “Sunnydale University was my first choice and they did offer me some small scholarships. I had no choice really.” Spike was instanly mesmerized by the pout of Buffy Summers and decided right there and then, that he’d live to see that little expression as much as he could.

Their food arrived and they at in silence for the most part. “What about you?” she finllay asked between bites of pancakes, “what’s your story William?” He proceeded to tell her as much as he could, or would anyway; about his Dad, Mum and his fragile sister Drusilla. That in itself was a small miracle. Spike never spoke much of his sister Drusilla to anyone outside of the Giles family and to speak of it, so openly to this little golden Goddess, well that truly was a miracle. “She’s special, then?” Buffy inquired, boldy. “She’s that, yes, Buffy,” he confirmed, “but she’s been married to a real solid bloke for a few years now. He’s older, a good friend of my Dad and Mum’s, and a fine man. More importantly,” he added, “Ethan Rayne takes care of poor Dru. Makes sure she’s safe and happy, makes a good home for her.” Buffy looked at him, a bit confused, then shook her head and returned to her feast. “So you’re the fair haired son, huh, William?” she asked with an arch of her perfectly plucked brow. “Yeah, that’s me, alright, Buffy,” he sighed. “Didn’t ask for it, kind of had it dropped on me by my father, Rupert.” When he dared a look at her, she stared back at him sympathetically, “must be hard to be an only son,” she mumbled, “I wouldn’t know, I’m the oldest of two girls.”

Once he’d eaten his breakfast, Spike just sat and watched Buffy finish hers. She could sure put it away for such a tiny thing and he wondered just how many meals the young woman missed a week. He wanted to light a smoke, really bad, but this being California and their laws and such, he’d have to be content with fingering an unlit cigarette in his left hand. “How much do you smoke?” she asked, matter of factly. “I’m pretty much a chain smoker, Buffy,” he answered honestly. “Although my dear old Dad considers it a weakness, unless it’s a pipe of course.” Buffy broke out in an adorable giggle, her green eyes danced with merriment, “I don’t see you as a pipe smoker, William,” she chuckled. “Neither do I,” he agreed, “therefore the cigarettes.” When she was finished with her breakfast, Spike realized she’d probably bolt for the door and leave him behind as fast as possible. Sure enough, the waitress had just cleared their table and Buffy was checking her watch, “Oh, geez, William,” she gasped, “I’ve got to get home! It’s past 3:00 AM and I need some sleep. My shift at the bronze starts at 7:00 PM tonight and I’ve a ton of things to do at my place!”

Spike paid the bill and noted that Buffy left a $10.00 bill on the table as a tip, a bit high for a $20.00 dollar meal, but then again, she was a high class girl. He could tell already. Reluctantly, he followed her out of the café, the fake lights in the parking lot bathed their cars in dull light. “So he,” he mumbled, lighting that much needed smoke, “maybe we can go out sometime? A real date?” Buffy blushed bright red, another adorable habit she seemed to possess, “gee, William, I don’t think so. Again, I’m kind of tied up right now and it just wouldn’t be right, you know? I mean, I wouldn’t like it if Angel was ‘seeing’ someone else on the side.” Trying not to look too dissapointed, Spike nodded in defeat, at least visibly. Frankly, at the moment he didn’t give a rat’s arse about Angel or his feelings, his only concern was this little beauty before him. “Okay, Buffy,” he sighed, “for now anyway,” he added with a smirk. “You drive home carefully, I’d follow you, but I’ve a feeling you wouldn’t care for that too much.” She gave him a radiant smile, “goodnight William Giles,” she said, sticking out her tiny hand to shake his, “and thanks.” With a wave, she was gone from him. Spike stood and watched her drive away, feeling quite empty and alone again. “Wouldn’t be right my arse,” he grumbled pulling his cell phone from his duster pocket. A gravelly, grumpy voice answered the number he called, “Gunn?” Spike greeted.

“You’ve got to be kidding Spike,” Charles Gunn growled over the phone to his boss, “what the hell time is it?” Spike didn’t bother to check his own rolex, “I don’t pay you to keep time Charles,” he reminded his employee coolly, “I pay you to do what I tell you. And right now, I’m telling you to do this job for me.” The man on the other end of the line sighed loudly, “yes Spike, I know. So what is it you want me to do?” Gunn asked. “I want you to find out all that you can about a certain Angel O’Connor from Los Angeles, presumably. I want to know who and what this guy comes from, when he eats and sleeps. What classes he takes at Sunnydale University and who his professors are. In fact, Charlie,” Spike continued, “I want to know when this moron goes to take a piss. Oh, and find out what his drugs of choice are, he’s a singer in a band, there’s gotta’ be drugs somewhere.” Charles Gunn repeated his bosses orders back to him, “okay Spike, got it. This have something to do with little blond skirt?” he inquired. “First off, Charles,” Spike hissed, “Buffy is not a little blond skirt, secondly, it’s not for you to worry why I want you to find out, I just want to know. Oh, and Charlie,” he added, “you get all this for me, ASAP, and I’ll make sure that you and Winnefred’s baby boy will have a good trust fund set up for college, like next week.”


The next night, Saturday, Spike forced himself not to go to the Bronze and stake out the club, just to see Buffy again. Neither did he wait for her in the parking lot, instead he drank himself into a stupor at his stupid apartment and passed out before he could go and make a complete stalking idiot of himself. When he woke up the next morning, he had a hellacious hangover so he lay in a cool tub until it somewhat subsided and came up with a very brilliant plan indeed. Around noon, he called information and had them ring ‘The Chateau’ to speak to Xander Harris. “Hello, Mr. Harris. I was wondering is Buffy due in tonight?” Apparently she was and Spike decided to run his idea past Harris. “I’m going to have some roses delivered to Buffy, there, so she’ll feel more comfortable about it. I was wondering, you know her so well Mr. Harris and I thought you could tell me; red roses? White or pink?” Xander Harris hesitated a second then, “Buffy likes red, as a color I mean, and please call me Xander, Mr. Giles.” Spike smiled to himself, “call me Spike, Xander, I think we’re going to be good friends, don’t you?”

For the next twenty minutes or so, Spike asked questions about Buffy and Xander answered them. Evidently, Xander Harris detested Angel O’Connor as much as most of the rest of Sunnydale. “He showed up about two or three months after Buffy moved up here. She was only eighteen at the time and my understanding was that this Angel knew her in High School; grew up with her in LA somewhere.” Spike pondered this for a moment, “so he’s like her High School sweetheart or somthin’?” Xander hesitated, “I guess,” he mumbled, “but right off, none of us liked him. My girlfriend, Cordelia, can’t stand him and she’s got a pretty good intuition about people, that and we did double date with them a few times. Cordy and I just didn’t like the vibes we got from the guy, he’s trouble, that’s for sure. Can’t put my finger on it, just a rough character. And there’s yesterday and all…..” Spike didn’t like the sound of that. “What about yesterday?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even. “Well Cordy called me up, all upset last night, in fact she came over to my place before work at the Bronze. Angel was waiting for Buffy when she got home from your little get together after work Friday, or should I say Saturday morning. Anyway, seems Buffy called Cordy and confided in her about this big fight Angel and her had when she got home at 4:00 AM on Saturday morning. I don’t know, and maybe Cordy was just overreacting, but let’s just say that Angel was not happy that his girlfriend showed up two hours late from work. That and Cordy says that Buffy alluded to the fact that Angel may have been ‘high’ out of control and all.”

Spike gripped his phone so tight that his knuckles began to turn white, “did he hurt her?” he asked Xander with a growl. “Maybe not physically, Spike, but he must have said something really harsh, Buffy cried for an hour over the phone to Cordy and she was late two hours to work last night. That’s just not like Buffy, to be late and all.” The platinum blond took a deep breath and considered his options silently. “Thanks mate,” he told Xander sincerely, “I’m not happy with the content of the information, but I’m glad I know some more about Buffy and this prick Angel. And don’t worry Xander,” he assured Buffy’s friend, “Angel will get just what’s coming to him. Now on a lighter note, I’m sending three dozen red and white roses to Buffy, through your restaurant; they should be there when she reports to work. I’m counting on you to make sure she gets them and make sure I know that she gets them, right?” Xander assured his new good friend that he’d let him know when the roses arrived. “Spike,” Xander began carefully, “Buffy’s a real good friend, to me, Cordy and a lot of folks around Sunnydale. More then that, she’s a good girl, sweet and kind of innocent in a lot of ways, so please, if you’re not the real thing, then please just walk away now. If you are, I give you my blessings man.”


‘Present Day’


Buffy and Will did eat supper (as Buffy called it) in the Hotel that night. They watched New York cable TV and drank the champagne the Hilton had provided, that and another one of the three bottles that Will had sent up later that evening. By the time they’d watched the ‘real time’ Dave Letterman Show, Buffy was so tipsy that she was laughing at everything anyone on Dave’s show said. “Look! Freddie Prinze Jr. looks like total crap with blond hair, Will!” she giggled hysterically pointing at Dave’s first guest on the screen. “You’d think that Freddie Prinz Sr.’s kid would be funnier, wouldn’t you? “Not my yob, man!” she quoted from ‘Chico and the Man,’ Jr.’s dad’s show on TV in the 70’s. She laughed so hard she practically fell off of the couch and would have if William hadn’t caught her first. “I think Buffy needs to hit the sack,” he purred, “too much bubbly, luv?” She nodded violently, “too much burbly, Willie,” she confirmed. “Would you put me to bed wee Willie winky?” she giggled uncontrollably. “But you’re not wee are you, Willie winky?” she became suddenly serious. “You’re not wee at all, are you my Willie?” Will arched his left brow and smirked back at her for a moment, “I think, that your Willie better get you to bed, Princess,” he murmered gently. He stood up abruptly and lifted her in his arms. “You always take good care of me, don’t you Willie?” she sighed, burying her face into his neck. “Always, baby,” he whispered.

They did everything he promised the next day. Toured the Memorial, saw the Empire State Building, even though Buffy refused to go to the top, she was terrified of heights after all. Ate at a great Italian place, her fave, downtown and even dropped by Bloomies to buy some new clothes that she so did not need, but bought anyway. All that, even after Buffy woke up with a hangover that would normally put her in bed for two days. By the time they got back to the Hilton late that afternoon, it was almost 7:00 PM. “Let’s order room service, huh, Princess?” he called to her as she drew her bath. “Okay, Will,” she sang back, happy from their exhausting day together. “But let’s order it after ‘our’ bath,” she suggested seductively, as she slinked over to him. He was on the balcony, smoking again, she was stark naked. “Come on my Captain of Industry,” she purred in his ear, let’s crawl into the water together and see what floats your boat, shall we?” William allowed himself to be led into the bathroom, shedding his own clothes as they went. ‘It’ll take an act of God or maybe Satan to allow me to let you go now, Buffy,’ he told himself as he followed her into the tub.

Sunday they decided to eat a quick breakfast and fly out of La Guardia as early as possible, even though Buffy was nervous as heck to actually arrive in England. She simply didn’t want to cross the Atlantic Ocean in the darkness of night, so, they were going to fly over in daylight. The trip was uneventful, that is if one didn’t count the sexual encounter William and her had in the middle of the Atlantic; in the back room that is. “Good thing there’s only a pilot and co-pilot on board, huh?” she had asked him anxiously as he thrust into her on the plush divan. William could only chuckle in reply as he concentrated on what he was doing. It seemed like they’d been in the air just minutes instead of nearly five hours when they landed at Heathrow Airport in London. Buffy had pulled herself together from their little mid air encounter and William had smoked almost a half pack of cigarettes. “Sorry, honey,” he’d apologized to her, “I just get antsy when I get close to home and my folks.” Boy, did Buffy understand that one. Once they landed, an obscenely large Roll’s Royce whisked them out of the city to the outskirts of the countryside, to Gile’s Manor, William’s childhood home. Buffy was more then nervous by this time, even though she had met these people before; it didn’t help that Will was playing with his silver plated lighter, the one she’d given him. He was sporadially lighting it, then snuffing out the flame with the top and relighting it. “It’s going to be okay,” she assured ‘him’ as she tightened her hold on his hand. “You’re here,” he smiled at her, “how couldn’t it be alright?”

When they arrived at the Gile’s Manor, a Tudor style structure, Spike sat upright, like a prep student scolded by a head master. “This is it, Princess,” he whispered, “show’s on now.” Buffy looked at him as if she was going to bolt out the Roll’s door and head for the moors at a sprint, but she swallowed hard and sat up next to him. “It’ll be okay, Will,” she reassured him, “I’ll make you proud.” Spike looked back at her as if she’d lost her mind temporarily, “it’s not you, Princess. You’re not the problem, you’re perfect, honestly. It’s me,” he finished weakly, “no matter what I do, I’ll never meet up to Dad’s expectations.” He fought the urge to tremble at the thought of Rupert Giles, face to face, then she did it. Buffy reached over, ran her little hand over his thigh and eventually to his crotch, “well you certainly meet up to mine,” she whispered huskily as she snuggled into his body. Spike couldn’t have been more grateful.


When they pulled up into the long circular driveway that led up to the front of the house, Buffy could see that there was now no escape for either of them. Rupert and Jenny Giles stood in front of the elaborate porch, arm in arm, virtually waiting to greet their son and his lady. The Rolls, Rupert’s pride and joy, pulled up in front of the lord and lady of the manor slowly, as if to ‘present’ their son and Buffy to them; the driver well versed in pomp and circumstance no doubt. William slowly opened the door, not waiting for the driver to escort them out and reached back in to help Buffy from the back seat. “Hey Mum, Dad,” he greeted simply as he led Buffy up to his parents. “William!” Jenny Giles cried and hugged her son warmly, “Buffy you look magnificent,” she added just as warmly with a hug for her. Rupert Giles looked his son over with a critical eye and seemed pleased enough, even after a frown at Spike’s blond hair and a quick handshake between them. Then he turned to Buffy and broke into a huge, charming smile, “Buffy dear,” he greeted her in his clipped, upper crust accent, “you’re looking simply fantastic.” He hugged her with a proper restraint, but shot his son a look over her slim shoulder, ‘seal this deal,, and fast my boy,’ he communicated to his son with just a stern glare.

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 6: ‘The Knight’s Lady’


Buffy Summers allowed herself to be led into Giles Manor, past the lion statues that sat on either side of the great stone porch, through the huge oak doors. This magnificent house, as lovely as it was almost indimidated her as much as the man who had entwined his arm in hers to escort her inside, Rupert Giles. It was a beautiful house, done in the Tudor Style Revisited, all grey and white stone with high towers and old fashioned chimneys. There was even a chapel on the grounds in the back, where both Drusilla and William had been christened as babies. Rupert’s father, William had had the whole thing built sometime in the mid 1930’s , for his wife, Margaret and it was where Rupert and his own children had grown up. Beautiful, perfect English Gardens surrounded the entire housing structure where Jenny’s prize roses held center stage. Buffy couldn’t wait to get into those gardens again and idle away hours just looking at every bud, bloom and bush. Actually, the Manor didn’t intimidate her, it simply overwhelmed her. She had been born in Los Angeles County and had grown up in a moderate sized ranch style house right in the middle of the San Fernando Valley, Encino California was a nice area, but nothing like the estate that William had grown up in and Buffy, who was pretty small anyway, simply felt like a tiny munchkin in this behemoth, even if it was a gorgeous place.

“Jenny darling,” Buffy heard Rupert speak to his wife, “perhaps you and Buffy would like to have tea in the parlour. I’ll just steal our son away from her long enough to have a drink and chat in the library. There’s a lot we need to discuss.” Buffy noticed the ‘look’ Rupert Giles gave his son and decided not to say a word to make anyone feel uncomfortable, poor Will looked uncomfortable enough for them all. “That’d be great, Dad,” Will said rather unconvincingly, “Mum and Buffy will be fine in the parlour, right Princess?” What could she do? Buffy just nodded dumbly and felt herself being led into the parlour like a defenseless fly. Except that gracious Jennifer Giles hardly seemed like a spider and she was the one leading Buffy to the tea party. Jenny hurried Buffy into the parlour and had her sit in the most divine Elizabethean chair, which, had not been there a year before on their last trip. “You’ve done some redecorating, Mrs. Giles,” Buffy said, stating the obvious, just a bit nervously. “Buffy, dear,” Will’s mother sighed, “I’ve asked you more then once, in person, via the telephone and even by E-MAIL to call me Jenny. If you can’t bring yourself to do that, please make it Jennifer, at least.” Buffy blushed bright red and nodded again, “I’m sorry, it’s just to be frank, Mrs., I mean Jennifer, your home really kind of overwhelms me. I mean, I feel kind of low rent here, you know?”

“Low rent?” Jenny asked, arching her eyebrow much like her son had the habit of doing. “Just how do you feel that ‘you’ are low rent Buffy?” She really couldn’t answer that one, just gave Will’s mom a shrug and glanced around the room, feigning more interest then she really felt, that is, until her gaze settled on the painting above the parlour mantelpiece. “Oh my gosh!” she cried as she jumped up and ran to the painting to inspect it more closely, “is that what I think it is?” Jenny came to stand beside her, “why don’t you tell me what ‘you’ think it is, Buffy?” she asked softly. “Well I think, no, I know, it’s a Gustave Moreau, middle 1800’s entitled ‘Orpheus’ and is it an original?” Buffy heard Jenny chuckle lowly next to her, “yes it is, Buffy and you have a very keen eye. I’ve always wondered why you never took a position in a Gallery or Museum, something in your line of studies?” she asked rather boldly. The blond glanced at the older brunette shyly, “I don’t know, well that’s not true. I do know, and I’ve got a feeling you might know too, but let’s not talk about it right now, okay?” Jenny Giles just nodded at her and gave Buffy’s arm a gentle squeeze, “let’s talk about something else. How about some wine, Buffy?” she winked at her companion. “Tea is very nice and all, but why should our men have all the fun?” They giggled in unison like a pair of schoolgirls as Jenny poured them both generous amounts of a Chianti from a large carafe. Once they’ed both settled, side-by-side on a sumptuous divan, Jenny explained the ‘sleeping arrangements’ to Buffy. “I’m sorry dear,” she sighed with a shake of her dark head, “but Rupert’s so old fashioned and afraid of what the servants will think. That’s why we’ve put you and William in seperate bedrooms. Of course,” she whispered, “there’s a door that connects the two rooms so if one of you happens to stumble into the other’s room by accident…..” Buffy sipped her wine and giggled light heartedly, ‘perhaps she’d been wrong to be afraid to come here. It wasn’t so bad after all.’

Spike was already on his second whiskey when his father finally broached the main subject of the ‘chat’ that he’d wanted to have with him. Rupert Giles was nothing if he wasn’t to the point, especially with his only son. “So,” he said thoughtfully, “you and Buffy? You’ve come to some kind of an agreement, William?” He wasn’t sure if it was the jet lag, the whiskey or the overwhelming presence of his formidible father, but Spike had no idea what the bloody hell his dad was talking about right then. “Agreement?” His father sighed in slight exhasperation, “about the matrimony, William,” he muttered, “has your girl come round yet of her own accord?” The ‘son’ shook his head and downed his drink in one gulp, standing to pour another before discussing the subject any further with his dad. “No Dad,” Spike mumbled, not able to look at the older man, “she’s as stubborn as either one of us and twice as unmoving in some ways. She won’t marry me now, not willingly, not for a while anyway. That’s why I had to do what I did, just hope she understands if it works out the way I want. Can’t imagine how I’ll explain it to her when it happens.”

“Giles men do what they have to do, son,” Rupert reminded him sternly, “no explainations are needed. We know what’s best for those we love.” Spike nodded half-heartedly, “yeah, I know Dad,” he mumbled back. “Dinner will be ready in a while, it’s early but we know you children are hungry from your trip,” Rupert informed him, ignoring the flinch Spike gave over the term ‘children.’ “Later you and I can leave the girls to chat some more while we have a serious talk over some of my reserve port. I want to know just how things stand in Sunnydale and I want to discuss your future, your’s and Buffy’s that is.” The older man stood and approached his son cautiously, “I’m not a total unfeeling fool, William,” he said in a tone that was really uncustomary for him, “I know it’s hard to be an only son. I was one, after all, but, it’s also a responsibility that is quite an honor if handled correctly. The truth is son, I do want you to be happy and I fully agree with you that Buffy is the ‘one’ for you. I just want you children to begin your lives together, legally united and on stable ground. I happen to feel that marriage is the way to go and that I and your mother deserve as many grandchildren and Giles heirs as you and your lovely Buffy can provide. That’s my wishes, that’s all,” he finished with a shrug. Spike chuckled warmly and gazed at his father adoringly, “I think you deserve it too dad, and I plan for Buffy and me to fullfill your every wish; promise.”

They headed into the parlour to find their girls, but just before they entered, Rupert pulled Spike aside quickly. “Oh, by the way son,” he whispered, “about the sleeping arrangements for you and Buffy?” Spike actually blushed and looked down at his feet. “Well,” the older man continued, “you know how old fashioned your Mother can be, how ‘almighty propriety’ is of the utmost?” His son nodded. “Well, she felt that you two children should have separate bedrooms, being unmarried and all so I’m afraid you won’t be sharing rooms together.” The blond man looked at his Father as if he’d sucker punched him. “It will be fine, though William,” the elder Giles assured him, “there’s a door, it connects your two rooms and as long as everyone is discreet, there won’t be a problem. Understand?” he finished with a slight smirk and a wicked wink of his left indigo blue eye. “Yes, Dad,” Spike laughed, “I understand perfectly.”

Over dinner, Buffy chatted with enthusiasm about her Art Classes she would be attending soon while Jenny listened intently. Rupert tried to look interested and William drank more wine then he should have. Finally, Buffy ran out of things to say about school, so she turned the conversation to Drusilla and her family. “Will Drusilla be coming tomorrow?” she asked hopefully. “Yes, Buffy dear,” Jenny answered warmly, “she’s bringing Geniveve and little Rose with her. Of course Geniveve will be driving them all.” Geniveve was Ethan Rayne’s only daughter and Rose was her baby, only about nine months old. “Geniveve was still pregnant when we were here last time,” Buffy chimed in, barely able to hide her excitement, “I can’t wait to get my hands on that little English Rose!” She caught the smug looks between Will and his Father, the ‘now there’s a born mother’ looks. “I love babies, all babies,” Buffy shot Will a warning look of ‘don’t even go there. We’re talking Dru’s grand baby here, not a tribe of our own!’ “How is Dru?” she heard Will ask his Mother. “Okay,” Jenny sighed, “she has good days and bad days, as always. Of course it helps that Ethan is as devoted to her as he is. I don’t know what Dad and I would have done if good old Ethan hadn’t ridden in on his white horse and saved us all. Especially poor little Drusilla.”

Buffy noticed Rupert flinch as a look of deep sorrow passed over his handsome face. If he resembled anyone, Will took after his Dad in looks. They had the same blue eyes and light brown hair, although it was hard to tell with Will, he bleached his so much. Drusilla took after her mother, Jenny, through and through, with her dark good looks and fair skin. ‘Too bad poor Dru couldn’t have taken after both her folks in the mental strength department, like Will did’ Buffy thought sympathetically. Ethan Rayne had truly been a blessing for the Giles family, Will had told her that from the start and Buffy grew to agree with him. The fragile Drusilla was beautiful, sweet and brilliant in her own way, but she walked in a surreal world that most people could not grasp. Her husband, the older and situated Lord Ethan Rayne, had been a life long friend of both Jennifer and Rupert Giles, in fact, he’d introduced them in their youth. After his first wife died when Drusilla had only been sixteen, Ethan went into a self exiled mourning that lasted for years. As the story went, when Dru had become a young woman of substance, but obviously somewhat dissalusional, Ethan had gone to his old friends, the Giles, and proposed a situation that might turn out to be advantageous to them all. He married Dru when she was twenty-two years old and took her home to live in his rather large but lonely manor, a mere five miles from her own birth home. His two children were grown and gone from the house, Geniveve was at the University, his son Dalton was established as a barrister, so Ethan could devote his time to pampering the only daughter of his two best friends. It was a win/win situation for everyone as Will had explained to her time and again.

“You know,” Jenny piped in, changing the subject, “I want you to see my new roses, first thing in the morning Buffy,” she gushed. “I think they’ll take the first prize this year at the faire. I’m so proud of my special hybrid rose that I want you to be the first to see it!” Rupert and William broke out into pearls of laughter. “What?” Jenny flashed her dark expressive eyes at her husband and son. “Oh, Jenny darling,” Rupert chuckled, “you say that every year and every year your special rose does indeed win the first prize at the faire. I don’t know why the bloody judges just don’t wrap up the blue ribbon and ship it out here the week before, save a lot of bother, I’d say.” Buffy stifled a giggle with her hand and rolled her eyes at Spike. He recognized immediately that his woman had picked up on the identical behaviour of his own to his Fathers. “Mum,” he said gently, “I’m sure Buffy would love to see the gardens, in fact, it’s pretty much about all she’s talked about since I mentioned coming here.” Jenny smiled, pleased with the strokes from her son and grinned evilly at her husband. “I would love it Jennifer,” Buffy confirmed, “what’s this rose about?” Spike watched his Mother ‘grow’ in stature about five inches as she sat up proudly in her oak chair. “Well,” she began her dark eyes darting about the table, making sure everyone was listening intently, “it’s called the ‘Knight’s Lady’ and I named it for Rupert’s Mother, Will’s and Dru’s Grandmum.”

Buffy’s ears perked up at the mention of William and Margaret Giles, the patriarch and matriarch of the Giles family. “That’s a very romantic name, Jennifer. What does it mean,” Buffy asked. “Well,” Jenny began, “back before Rupert was even born, of course, William Giles, the first one, was quite taken with Margaret Walsh, an Irish beauty who’s father owned a pub in London. Margaret helped out there and every available bachelor in this county hung around just to watch her at work. Spike listened, but watched his love, Buffy who seemed already entranced as his Mother weaved her web of Giles lore. “Young Maggie, as Grandpa William called her, was only seventeen-years-old when the first William met her and he was smitten the minute he laid eyes on her. Decided within five minutes that he was going to marry her and take her away to the country to build a dynasty together. Apparently, old William was ambitious, even before he was twenty, just like some other men I know.” She paused long enough to glance at her husband and son with her version of a smirk then continued her story to Buffy. “Seems William Giles was pretty confident he could sweep Maggie off of her feet, but he did have one ‘real’ rival, a big handsome local by the name of Liam Smythe.”


Flashback Spike’s POV


Three days had passed since Spike had breakfast with Buffy and it was now Tuesday at approximately 10:45 AM. It wasn’t as if Spike was keeping track of the time, no, he just happended to know exactly what hour it was that he’d sent Buffy off home on Saturday morning to what was probably a claustraphobic apartment. After all, what kind of lavish accomadations could his little blond angel afford, even with two jobs? She had as much as admitted that ‘she got by’ when they’d had their time together, so this apartment of hers, while being clean, was probably not plush. Spike realized he was being a real prick at work, throwing tantrums over the stupidest things, snapping at employees over nothing and pushing Charles Gunn, his most valued employee to find ‘something bad’ on this Angel idiot, as soon as possible. Finally, after the fourth day, Charles came up with a full report on Angel O’Connor and it was more then Spike could have hoped for.

Charles Gunn strode into Spike’s office, much like a victorious military leader who had just captured the enemy’s flag. “I’ve got it, Spike,” he crowed, proudly. Spike looked up from his computer, expectantly, “just what ‘ave you got, Charles,” he asked evenly. “Well man,” Charles chuckled with glee, “enough to hold you to that trust fund you promised Charles Jr.” Mr. Giles clicked off his computer and sat up in his ergonomic chair, “go ahead,” he ordered. “This Angel O’Connor is a real piece of work, Spike,” Charles assured him. “He’s not bad looking, exactly.” Spike bristled and Gunn must have noticed he shook his head ruefully and covered himself, “if a girl likes that ‘Neandrathal’ kind of thing. I mean, he’s kind of that big and oafish looking, man, with a terrible hair style and more brood then Hamlet.” Spike nodded for his employee to go on. “Frankly Spike,” Charles said sincerely, “I don’t know what your girl sees in this guy. He’s barely passing simple courses in college, his family sends him money and as far as singing talent goes, well, let’s just say that my ten month old son could probably do better.” The blond Giles smirked evilly, “go on Charles,” he purred like a cat who ate the mouse. “It seems that your new buddy, Xander Harris was pretty on target, Angel has a coke problem and I don’t mean a small one. This guy’s snortin’ more powder then Tony Montana in Scarface and O’Connor’s a lot less money happy, you know?”

Spike stood up and walked around his desk to stand in front of Charles, “so he’s dealing, right? To support his habit?” Charles nodded, “this guy’s running a dealership out of his apartment that would make Cal Worthington look like a newcomer to the used car sales business. “Who’s Cal Worthington?” Spike asked Gunn, somewhat puzzled. “Doesn’t matter, man,” Gunn responded with a chuckle, “just take my word for it, it’s pretty big for a two bit player like this Angel!” Spike sat down on his desk and pondered what Gunn had to say, “so he’s dealing drugs, singing or so called singing in this band of his and pretty much living off of his folks? Or worse yet, Buffy?” The taller black man nodded with enthusiasm, then he tossed the file he had in his hands on the desk next to Spike. “But,” Charles went on, “there’s something or should I say things that are even of more interest.” The bleached blond man in charge stood up and paced around his office for a couple of moments then, “let me guess,” he finally said, “not only does Angel have a coke issue? He has a woman issue, too, right?” Charles could only smile before he answered, “yup, but more then that, he’s got women issues.”

“More then one lay on the side, then?” Spike asked Charles, trying too keep his anger in check. “Oh yeah,” Gunn confirmed, “at least two other chics, both as different as night and day. Actually, I think the guy’s a real prick, man, but it’s kind of amazing how he can keep his number one girl oblivious about the other two. Like I said,” Charles continued, “they’re as different as night and day. There’s a Lilah Dumont, a red head, not much on her, she’s some kind of teacher’s aide at Sunnydale University. Faith Evans is another one, and get this, she works part time at the Bronze with Buffy Summers. This Faith is pretty harsh from what I hear and likes to get around town, play the field. Get this, man, she’s been seeing my buddy on the Sunnydale Police Force, you know Robin Wood?” Gunn scrutinized his bosses face, seemingly unsure of just how ballistic the blond man would go so he threw in one last comment for good measure. “I don’t get these kind of dudes, Spike. I mean, they’ve got good, decent girls like your honey, Buffy and they can’t seem to stay away from easy pussy. I just don’t get it, I’d never cheat on Winnefred.” Spike was furious, his darling little Princess was being fucked over by a guy that wasn’t good enough to lick her tiny precious feet. One of the most important things his Dad had taught him, was to honor and respect your woman, be loyal and faithful. Why would Buffy put up with this bloody cheating asshole? ‘Simple,’ he answered his own question, ‘ she probably didn’t know anything about O’Connor’s other life; but she would soon, Spike would make sure of that!’

“Thanks, Charles,” he grunted, unsmiling at his favorite employee, a man he trusted and considered a friend, also. Spike was surprised just how calm he himself was remaining and told Gunn, “You better take the rest of the day off and start checking out the best interest rates at the banks. Charles Jr. is going to have that college trust fund set up by the end of the week and I want you and Winnefred to have first choice on the account location. Gunn smiled at his employer and left his office, “thanks man,” he called back before dissapearing out the door. “I’ll rip that bastard Angel’s head off and post pictures of his torso on the ‘Net’ for fun,” Spike growled loudly, now beginning to lose his cool. “If Buffy doesn’t throw this guy to the curb, soon,” he hissed, , “I’ll bloody well kick him there myself!”


Present Day


Jenny continued her tale of the ‘rose’ and Will’s grandparents. “I guess that Maggie had made it pretty clear that she preferred William Giles to Liam and this didn’t set too well with Mr. Smythe. Out of hurt ego or pride, whatever, Liam said some pretty ugly things about Maggie and her family which angered William. To avenge Maggie, William tracked down Liam at another pub, one afternoon and proceeded to beat him within one inch of his life. After that, Liam was so humiliated that he sold his family’s farm and fled the county, forever.” Buffy blurted out excitedly, caught up in the romantic intrigue of the tale, “let me guess! This house sits on the old Smythe farmland, right?” Rupert and Will broke out into laughter at her words, “that’s right Princess,” Will chortled. “Grandad William ran Liam Smythe out of town, bought his farm and then burned down the house that stood here so he could build his own place. I guess you could say it was the ‘first’ Gile’s hostile takeover!” Both men found this hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing or making comments about that ‘bloody loser’ Liam Smythe. Buffy and Jenny just stared at the two men as they made spectacles of themselves, both assuming that ‘alcohol’ had a lot to do with their silly behavior. Finally, Jenny turned her attention back to Buffy, cleared her throat and explained, “anyway, that’s why I call my rose ‘The Knight’s Lady’ for Margaret Walsh Giles.” The dark haired woman shot a murderous look at her husband and son which they must of noticed because they both sobered up immediately and quit laughing like a couple of drunken hyenas. “Sorry Jenny,” Giles mumbled under his breath. “Me too, Mum, Buffy,” William echoed his father’s words.


Flashback ‘Buffy’s POV’

Buffy checked over her reservation list for the second time that evening. It was only 5:00 PM on a Wednesday, but The Chateau was already booked up for the night. She still had over six hours to go on her Hostess shift and Buffy was already bone tired. The argument that she and Angel had had on Saturday morning was still playing in her mind. No matter how much she tried to blame the ‘drugs’ that Angel had obviously done the night before, Buffy was smart enough to realize that there were more issues in their relationship, ones that had little to do with a recreational coke habit. When she had come to work Sunday, fairly calmed down from the day before, she found the three dozen red and white roses from William waiting for her at The Chateau. Xander had kept them in his office and presented them proudly to her for William. “This guy really likes you Buff,” he assured her happily, “I think you should give him a shot.” That would be all fine and good, but Buffy was with Angel and apparently, her insecure boyfriend needed her, desperately. She remembered what he’d told her that morning when she came home to find Angel waiting for her, nervously pacing about her apartment. “Where’ve you been Buffy?” he’d inquired impatiently. Buffy told him she’d been having coffee with a friend, but Angel didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. Fortunately, he didn’t ask whether this friend was male or female, so she didn’t have to lie very much anyway. “I just needed to talk to you, babe,” he whimpered as he took her in his arms. She tried not to notice his drug induced agitated state, or the tiny residue of white powder just under his nose.

Xander came out from the office and looked over her shoulder to check the list himself, “busy, huh?” he asked, delighted at the prospects for the evening. “Yeah,” she whispered, “it’s just great, the waitresses, heck all of us will make a ton in tips tonight.” The dark haired man tapped Buffy on her shoulder, “Buff,” he began, his dark eyes looked serious, “I’m your friend, right?” Buffy nodded silently. “Then will you listen to me, honestly, for just a little while and then if you don’t like what I say, just tell me to fuck off and I will.” Again, Buffy just nodded and dropped her eyes from his, with a hot blush. “We love you, Buffy. Cordy and me, Willow and Oz, so many people besides your family, who loves you most of all, I’m sure. So that’s why I’m going to be totally honest with you and give you some advice.” Xander took a deep breath, “okay here goes,” he muttered under his breath. “Angel’s trash, Buffy,” he stated evenly, “uses you, your love and strength to make himself feel important, strong and special. You not only deserve better, you deserve the best and while I can’t say, for certain, that Spike Giles is the one for you, I’m certain he’s a better bet then Angel. Not only is Angel a coke head, he’s been less then honest with you and you can deny it, but I know he’s hit you at least once. No man should hit a woman, Buffy and visa versa. My dad knocked my mother around and I hate him to this day for it.”

Buffy couldn’t look at her friend, she just stared at her perfectly French pedicured toes as Xander continued to bad mouth the man she thought she loved for years. “I’m sorry for being so blunt, but he’s no good, Buff, pure and simple. He does nothing with himself but get high, try to sing part time and pretends be a serious college student and we people that truly love you are afraid he’s going to drag you down with him. Besides,” Xander hesitated for a moment, “I don’t think he’s faithful to you and I’m not trying to rub your face in it,” he added quickly, “but I’ve heard some things I’m not happy about, Cordy and me both have. We just didn’t tell you because we don’t want you hurt, but there’s all kinds of hurt Buffy and maybe it’s better to cut your losses with Angel now and not wait until it’s too late. Do you understand?” She nodded her head again, surprised that she wasn’t sobbing like a baby by now. However, for some reason the things Xander said didn’t make her sad or unhappy, they just made her angry. Angry at Angel, the guy she thought she loved since High School. “I know you and Cordy love me and want what’s best for me Xand,” she whispered, “I’ll think about what you said, I promise,” she stammered out. With that, she hugged her boss briefly, gently dismissing him and went back to her job, one she was very good at.

Around 7:45 PM that night, Buffy took her break and sat in the employee lounge, thinking about what Xander had said. In her heart, she knew her friends were right, Angel was no good, had never really been any good and had been in some kind of trouble since before they graduated from Birmingham High School together. Buffy had left Encino, not only to go to college, but to distance herself from Angel, but he’d followed her up to Sunnydale and she fell back into the enabler role she’d had since the beginning of their Senior year. She always thought, deep down, that maybe he would change, maybe he could truly be a good man and they might have a future together. After all, didn’t he run after her to Sunnydale, unable to ‘live’ without her? Wasn’t that true romantic love? With a sigh, Buffy finished her soda and headed back out to her station at the front of the restaurant. She again checked the list in front of her, scanning down the crossed off names and next in line names for tables. When she got to the name, William Giles ‘8:00 PM’ her heart literally stopped beating. ‘That wasn’t there before,’ she assured herself as she looked at the clock on the far wall. It was now 7:55 PM.

There it was, William Giles, party of two, 8:00 PM, right there on the list she’d been looking at all evening. She just knew that that name had not been there before her break. “What the hell is going on here?” she asked herself, but soon forgot the question. William walked through the door, alone and looking absolutely gorgeous. He wore some black pants, she wasn’t sure what brand, but they were expensive and a black button down silk shirt. With his bleached blond hair and blue eyes, he looked killer to Buffy. A tinge of guilt shot through her, she wondered who the second part of the Giles party was and frankly, she was a little jealous. “Hello, Princess,” he greeted her jovially, “I’ve got a reservation for 8:00 and here I am.” Buffy smiled politely and made a big production of checking her reservation book as if she hadn’t seen his name before just that minute. “Uhm, yes,” she said rather professionally, extremely proud of herself, “William Giles, 8:00, here it is.” She could feel his stare upon her, but kept her head down, scanning her book, “table #1,” she mumbled, “I’ll show you the way, or would you rather wait for your date in the bar?” William shot her a most dazzling smile, “date’s here, luv,” he leaned over her little table, just inches from her and gazed soulfully into her eyes. “I’m lookin’ at my date right now.”

“I can’t be your date,” she cried then looked around to see if any co-workers or customers had heard her, “I’m working,” she hissed in frustration. “Not anymore,” William retorted, “at least not tonight,” he added as he pointed behind her. Buffy turned to look at Xander waving at her and it wasn’t a ‘hi’ wave, it was a ‘you’re done for the night’ wave. She now understood who had penciled in William’s name in her reservation book. “I told you, I have a boyfriend and I…..”but she was interrupted by William. “Whatever happened to customer’s always right in this Country, anyway?” he asked, his head cocked to one side and a smirk on his lips. “Besides,” he continued cockily, “I’m a much better bet then your boy Angel. At least I could be, if you’d just hear me out. Right now and right here.” A hot flush shot through her body up into her neck and face, “you are so full of yourself, William,” Buffy muttered as she closed her book and glanced around for Amy to come and replace her. “Someone needs to knock you down a peg or two, mister.” Before Amy could get to her table, William took Buffy by the hand and began to lead her to the #1 table of The Chateau, a totally private table in a closed off area. “Yes, Princess,” he chuckled, “someone does need to knock me down a peg or two, and I’m more then sure that the someone is you.”


Present Day


They were still at the dining table, having some dessert, chocolate mousse, Buffy’s favorite, Spike noted and some magnificent red varietal wine. Spike and his Dad were debating politics and his Mum and Buffy were still chatting about roses and horses of all things. Of course, his parents were known for their thoroughbred horses as much as his Mum’s prize winning roses so it wouldn’t be unusual for them to discuss such things. However, right now, as much as Spike wanted to hear what his Dad had to say about Tony Blair and ‘old what’s his name’ he couldn’t keep his mind off of Buffy and their joined bed rooms upstairs. ‘Can’t wait to sneak into her room tonight,’ he thought to himself, ‘something hot about us having to sneak about and tryst!’ His Mother’s voice, tinged with worry, broke into his pleasant thoughts. “Buffy,” she asked with definite concern, “are you okay, dear?” Spike snapped to in a nano second and hurried over to Buffy, who did look very very pale, and he took her by the hand. “Buffy, luv,” he echoed his Mum’s question, “are you okay?”

Buffy felt incredibly tired, that and somewhat whoozy to boot. She hadn’t felt really good since before supper, but she chalked it up to jet lag and simple fatigue from the traveling. “I don’t know Will,” she whispered weakly, “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel right. I think I should go up to bed now. If that’s alright with everyone, I’m so sorry,” she kept apologizing to them all. “We’ll both go up to bed, Princess,” Will said, “I’ll make sure you get tucked in good and proper, don’t want my girl sick now do we?” Nodding, Buffy took hold of Will’s strong arm and let him lead her upstairs to their rooms, “you come back down when I’m all in, please, Will,” she pleaded, “I want you to visit with your Dad and Mom. I’ll be fine once I’m in bed, I’m just tired and a little dizzy. I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning.” When she turned to tell Jenny and Rupert goodnight and apologize again for being such a party pooper, she caught the look between Father and son. ‘What’s that about,’ she wondered, confused by William’s concerned expression and Rupert’s smug smirk. ‘Oh well’ she shrugged eager to wash up and get to bed.

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 7: ‘English Vacation’




Buffy woke up, very early the next morning, wrapped in the arms of her lover. Apparently, Will had snuck into her bedroom sometime late last night, stripped naked and crawled into the bed with her. All that without waking her up since she was feeling so crummy when she went to bed herself. She felt great this morning, all traces of the dizzyness and fatigue were gone and she felt like she could go days without sleeping again. As she watched Will in his sleep, she was reminded as always, of how young and untroubled he looked in this state. He seemed totally at peace with the world, like the cares and stress of his everyday life or his work just faded completely away. Will was always saying that it was Buffy’s arms, wrapped around him that eased his worries away completely.

“I need a bath,” she told herself as she glanced around the huge guestroom in which she’d been enscounced by Will’s parents. It was still very early, the birds outside the bedroom window were just starting their ‘good morning’ songs to each other. That thought reminded her of Jenny’s Knight’s Lady Rose and the gardens that waited for her just outside these shuttered bedroom windows. She looked back at her sleeping lover and smiled, reluctant to leave this big sumptious bed or this man who she truly did love with all her being. Buffy had to giggle, softly, as not to wake him, he had that spikey blond bed head look going, the one she loved so much. It was probably just the art lover in Buffy, but when Will slept he reminded her of an Immortal from Greek Myth. Thinking about Immortals and all, Buffy realized that Will could be out for the long one this morning. Him and his Father probably drank enough alcohol last night, or more then likely, into this morning, to kill mere mortals. Probably the only person who could drink Will under the table was his own Father, Rupert Giles.

“Morning, Princess,” came the mumbled greeting of her lover, “feeling better today, luv?” he grinned, his eyes still closed shut. She giggled and snuggled even closer to him, “I’m feeling fantastic myself, but how are you?” Will shrugged and wrapped his arms even tighter about her, “bout as good as I can feel considering I think Dad and I drank the entire County dry, and that was just the whiskey.” Buffy began to rub Will’s head, tenderly, causing him to moan in pleasure, “sorry I was out of it last night,” she sighed. “I was just so tired and I’m sorry that I didn’t wake up when you came to bed, so we could, well, you know,” she felt a hot flush creep up her neck into her face.

William’s eyes shot wide open and he grinned, “you know?” he chuckled wickedly. “You mean so we could shag, fuck, have sex or my personnal all time favorite, make love?” Buffy sighed in exhasperation and tried to wiggle out of his arms and away from his naughty left hand that had somehow slipped up between her thighs. “Well excuse the heck out of me!” she ‘whispered’ rather loudly. “Just because I’m not so crude, that I can’t lay around spouting words like fu…” but he silenced her with a kiss. “Buffy, my darling,” he said tenderly, “I love the fact that you still blush and use phrases like ‘you know’ when referrring to our sex life together. You are a jungle cat in bed, baby, “ he assured her with another kiss, “and it’s adorable that you are still so guileless and innocent when you talk about the marvelous things we do in bed.” She shot him a look of warning, but gave him a good morning kiss anyway.

Her kiss caused him to begin to up the action to the next level and soon he had her nightie off and thrown in the corner of the room. “Will!” she squealed as he nibbled her neck and headed for lower territory, “I need a bath, I’m all grungy from yesterday!” Will stopped his assault on her chest with his lips and grinned up at her, “you are far from grungy sweetheart,” he said, a wicked gleam in his gorgeous blue eyes. “But, if you insist, I could give you a tongue bath.” Buffy broke out in a peal of laughter and gave into Will’s naughty, but yummy mouth.


Flashback ‘Buffy’s POV’


Buffy dragged herself up to her apartment, exhausted from the conversation she’d had with William Giles over the past three hours. It was now close to 11:30 PM on Wednesday night and she had early classes tomorrow. Right now, she wanted to wash up, get to bed and not have to think anymore about what she’d learned about her so called boyfriend, Angel earlier that evening. William certainly talked a good spiel; he was so cool, calm and diplomatic while he basically ripped Angel’s character apart. Echoing Xander’s words to her from earlier, this blond handsome tornado from England exposed some harsh truths about Angel that even Buffy hadn’t realized, not to this extent anyway. However, William was careful to sidestep Buffy’s involvement with him, even as he ran Angel himself into the ground.

Just once, during the course of their evening together, over the finest wine The Chateau had to offer and their famous filet mignon, did Buffy remind William that Angel ‘was’ her boyfriend; that it wasn’t really appropriate for either of them to be discussing him over their meal. It was then, that William finally dropped his verbal assault on Angel, but only after he’d exposed the man’s drug dealing to Buffy. Somehow, as awful as the things William did tell Buffy about her own boyfriend, she felt that the blond man was holding some other information back about Angel, something even darker. William had then assured Buffy that he was only concerned about her wellfare, like all of her group of friends (which he now considered himself a part of) and didn’t want to see her dragged down by the likes of Angel O’Connor.

When Buffy entered the front door of her apartment, she was met by Angel himself, who was leaning against the entryway wall, apparently waiting for her. By that annoying brooding look in his eyes, Buffy could tell this was not a happy man and this was going to be a long night. “Hey Angel,” she greeted as she strode past him, trying to give him a hint to leave by turning her back to him and going about her normal bed time routine. “What’s up?” she called back to him, unwilling to get into any crap with him tonight. She just wanted him to leave, now and tried to think up the nicest way to convey this to him. “Maybe I better ask you that question,” he growled from right behind her. Buffy jumped, startled, then turned around to look him in the eyes; he was enraged.

“Where were you tonight,” he asked her, his dark brown eyes flashed yellow in anger. “I was at the Chateau,” she responded matter-of-factly, ‘it’s the truth’ she reasoned. “Bullshit!” he shot back loudly, “I called that dump over two hours to talk to you and that witch Amy told me you’d quit working around 8:00!” Buffy stood up proudly and crossed her arms over her chest, defiantly, “Amy is not a witch! She’s a lovely young woman who is trying her best to help make a better life for her and her family. And,” she continued, “I was at the restaurant. I was eating and talking to ‘some’ people. Besides, you need to leave now as I don’t feel like discussing anything with you right now. I don’t know how much coke you’ve snorted up your nose tonight, but I do know you’re higher then a kite and unable to discuss anything rationally tonight!” She started to walk over to her front door to emphasize the need for him to ‘get out’ right now.

Angel grabbed Buffy’s arm, way far from gently and pulled her up against him roughly. “That ‘someone’ you were eating with and talking to, he the blond British freak that sent you the roses, Buff?” By this time, he was yelling so loud that Buffy was sure the old nosey lady upstairs could hear every word he was screaming. ‘Who told him,’ she asked herself frantically, ‘not Xander, Cordy or Amy, surely!’ “Doesn’t matter, Angel,” she shouted back at him, “you’re leaving and I’m going to bed, alone.” She pulled away from him, but he just grabbed her arm again, “no Buffy, I’m not leaving, we’re going to straighten this mess out!” Buffy again pulled her arm out of his huge, powerful right hand, “who told you about the roses, Angel?” she asked him. He looked away, momentarily shame-faced, then glared back at her, “Faith,” he answered simply.

“How, or more imporantly, why did Faith Evans tell you about William’s roses?” Buffy gasped. “William? As in Billy,” Angel answered her question with one of his own. “That’s pretty funny,” he began to laugh, “from what I understand this William’s a real throwback to the 80’s and all, a real Billy Idol wannabe.” Buffy overlooked the nasty remark about William, “just tell me why Faith would even talk to you, Angel? You her coke dealer now?,” she thought back to what Xander had said earlier, “he’s being less then honest you, Buff,” and suddenly, everything became very clear to her. “Or is it more then that?” she whispered weakly. Angel didn’t even try to dodge Buffy’s obvious innuendos, “well, yeah,” he hissed, “at least Faith knows how to blow a guy without whining ‘ewww yucky’ like some bitches I know, like you do.” She blushed bright red and fought down the urge to throw up right there, “as much as Faith Evans sleeps around,” she shot back, “I’m sure she’s had more then enough practice to perfect her non-gag reflex while she’s down on her knees.” Angel scowled down at her, “how much did you put out to Billy boy to swing that nice little flower delivery, Buff? Was it just enough, the usual just passable sex that you’re so good at? Or was it something really special, proabably not, the blond Brit prick may not expect anything too great!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she yelled, forgetting about old Miss nosey upstairs, or past caring completely. “Well,” Angel chuckled maliciously, “you’ve got a lot to learn about men, baby. Like I said, your techniques could use some improvement, but that’s fixable.” He closed the gap between them and pinned her to wall with his hands, “you just get naked, we’ll go to bed and you can practice your blow jobs on me. When you perfect them, I’ll dump Faith and you can tell Blondie to fuck off. We’ll work it out, stay together and forget all of this crap.” Buffy just stared at him for a minute, too sick with shock and anger to say anything for a while. Finally she pushed him away from her and walked past him towards the door again, calling back evenly, “get out. Don’t come back, forget where I live, my phone number, everything. Just get out, I never want to see you again.”

“This isn’t over Buffy,” he growled, “I still love you and you love me!” She shook her head sadly and mumbled, “not anymore, Angel, if I ever really did.” Angel came after her like a lion and roared, “Fuck that, you do still love me!” Buffy turned to face him, “not anymore,” she repeated calmly. “Oh, by the way, Angel,” her tone turned suddenly sweet, “a little FYI. If you did more strokes for me, instead of lines of coke, I might have been more accomadating in the bedroom. That and the other thingy,” she purred, so very close to him now. “What other thingy?” he asked seemingly mesmerized by her seductive tone. “Well,” she whispered silkily in his ear, “if you had more impressive equipment, something for me to really work with, maybe I could have ‘put out’ better then I did.” With that, she reached down and tweaked his jean clad dick gently, the evil tone of her own sarcastic chuckle surprised even her.

Buffy should have seen it coming, but she was so caught up in the ridiculous drama of the whole thing that she let her guard down. Angel swung his right arm back behind him and brought it down, open handed, against Buffy’s cheek, knocking her back into the coffee table. She lay on the floor, dazed by the force of the blow and the immediate pain in her her lower back. Somehow, she stood up, more like wobbled up and stumbled over to the phone on her end table. Angel just stood, towering above her, glaring down at her and panting like an animal. “Get out!” she hissed at him, “get out now, before I call the Sunnydale Police department and have your coke dealing ass thrown in jail!” He pushed past her and half ran to the front door, “this isn’t over, I mean it, Buffy,” he growled at her. “We’re going to work this out, you’re still my girl and I’ll rot in jail before I see you with that blond British freak or any other man!” When she heard the door slam behind him, she reached for the phone.

Cordy would be at Xander’s place by this time, it was already past midnight, but Buffy needed to talk to her friend, desperately. She punched her boss’s phone number in and prayed silently that both Xander and Cordy would understand her calling them at this unGodly hour. Xander answered the phone, kind of groggily and Buffy couldn’t stop herself, she broke out in uncontrollable sobs, “I’m so sorry, Xand,” she cried, “I know it’s late. Please forgive me, but is Cordy there? I need to talk to her, please!” Xander practically screeched, “Jesus, Buffy, what’s wrong? Cordy!” he screamed frantically. “Who is it, Xander, what’s wrong,” Buffy heard her friend’s concerned voice. “It’s Buffy,” Xander answered, just as concerned, “she’s sobbing, she needs us.”


Present Day


Buffy wondered leisurely through Jenny’s beloved gardens, Jenny herself walked beside her, their arms entwined. At every bloom, Buffy paused and breathed in the intoxicating fragrances, enjoying each and every one of the prized flowers. “Here’s the new one,” Jenny gushed as she led Buffy to a row of gorgeous pale pink roses, each bloom was as perfect as the next one. “This is the Knight’s Lady. See how pale and lovely the pink hue of the petals are?” Buffy nodded eagerly and bent to smell the lovely aroma of the flower, noticing that the inner part of the bloom was a dark fuscia color, quite a contrast to the pale outter petals. “It’s beautiful Jennifer,” Buffy sighed as she touched the petals lightly, “it’s sure to take first price, I just know it.” Jenny smiled proudly then led Buffy to a little wooden bench nearby, “let’s chat a bit Buffy. There’s some ‘things’ I’d like to share with you, privately, away from Rupert and William.”

“ It’s some things I think you might be interested in knowing about, some more Giles lore. More recent events, then the ones that took place in William Sr. and Margaret Gile’s times.” Buffy looked at Jenny shyly, not sure what she might have to say and a little nervous about it. “It’s nothing bad, or too scary, Buffy,” honest Jennifer chuckled softly, “just a little more insight into my husband’s character and maybe even more insight for you, into William’s. Although I think you’ve figured my son out pretty well all by yourself and that’s why you love him so much.”


“I know you are aware that your William wrote poetry when he was young, aren’t you?” Buffy nodded in answer, very aware of the fact, that, and that Will had stopped writing poetry sometime before his eighteenth birthday. “Yes, it was a shame he ever stopped writing, Buffy, dear,” Jenny sighed sadly, seeming to read Buffy’s thoughts. “I know I’m his Mother and all, but I thought it was very good poetry. But, of course, it would never do for the only son of Rupert Giles to write poetry, right?” Again Buffy nodded, suddenly irritated that Will felt so intimidated by his own Father that he’d quit doing something he loved, just to please the old tyrant. “I have something for you, in the house for later. It’s not the poetry William wrote before he supposedly stopped writing altogether. It’s the poetry he’s written about you Buffy, and sent to me over the past three years. I think you’ll love it, I do.” Buffy was stunned, she had no idea that Will was writing poetry about her, but more then that, she was elated and couldn’t wait to read it. “You know, Buffy,” she murmered softly, “it’s a funny thing that his Father would discourage William from writing poetry when he was a young man. Rupert certainly wrote enough of his own passionate prose to me when we were courting.”


A/N: pj if you’re reading this, there’s the first hint of our beloved Gile’s from BTVS. Giles on the show just had to write poetry! Anyway, sorry for the ‘put out’ crap in the plot. I actually had that said to me years ago and although it’s revolting, I just had to throw a phrase like that in this. It’s so Angel, don’t you think? Anyway, please review if you like. Constructive criticism is always welcome! Thanks for reading, Luv Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 8: ‘Slayer of the Big Bad’


A/N: I wanted to point out that thanks to ‘Jean’ and her E-Mail, I’m now starting to post fics in a larger font. It’s easier for me too, Jean!
Thanks, Luv Spuf


“I’ve always loved these gardens, Buffy,” Jenny was saying. “I think they’re my favorite place on our whole estate, except for Rupert’s and my big old Tudor style bed up in our master room. It’s even more fun for me to romp around ‘in there’ then it is out here.” Buffy choked back a laugh, but turned bright red again, stunned that Jennifer Gile’s would say anything like that much less to her! Jenny just laughed heartily, “what Buffy, you think I stick around Gile’s Manor all the time for the amusing business conversation at supper?” ‘No,’ Buffy shook her head and looked at the yellow roses next to the bench, still quite red faced. “Oh, Buffy, you ‘are’ the right woman for my son, a true treasure, just like he wrote in one of his poems. I just hope that you can learn to help guide William to become the great man he has the potential to be. The one you and I know he can evolve into. Like the one his Father could have become one day, if I’d have been stronger, like you are.”

Buffy began to swing her leather boot covered feet nervously under the little wooden bench, trying to think of something to say to Jenny, but failing miserably. Jenny on the other hand had more then enough to say for both of them. “My Father was a Lord, Buffy. Did you know that?” The blond woman nodded slightly, again wondering where this was going. “Daddy was Lord Calendar, a proud, loving man who doted on me like I was a real Princess and loved nothing better then to stomp about his estate wearing his hunting boots and riding his favorite horse, Gypsy. Daddy was what people called ‘genteel poor’ and just eking by financially on his name and heritage, of which he was extremely proud. My Mother adored him and visa versa and they both treated me like a glass China Doll, which was natural, I guess; I was their only child after all.” Jenny took Buffy’s hand in hers and squeezed it warmly, “my Father’s name was Randalph Calendar, which you already know of course, William’s middle name is taken from his. He loved dinner parties, balls and overblown galas that my Mother planned and executed with the finnesse of Martha Stewart. It was at one of those parties that I met William’s Father, Rupert Giles. Ethan Rayne and his late wife, Mariel had dragged poor Rupert along, presumably to introduce him to the blue blooded locals in my home County. However, I found out later that it was all orchestrated by Rupert himself, for the sole purpose of getting an introduction to me.”

Buffy allowed Jenny to just continue, uninterrupted, relaying all of this personnal information to her. She could see Jenny really was trying to make a point to her and was more then curious to find out exactly what it was. “Anyway, apparently, Rupert had seen me at some function in London and had decided on the spot that ‘I’ was the only one for him. Hard to believe now how romantic William’s Father was back then, isn’t it?” Again, Buffy just nodded and kept her eyes on The Knight’s Lady Rose across the little stone path in front of them. “Okay,” Jenny continued softly, “so introductions were made at the party, Rupert and I danced the first dance together and I have to tell you Buffy, I fell hard that first night. Of course, Daddy hated Rupert at first sight; after all, he was not titled, he was not ‘old money’ and hadn’t his own Father, William Giles basically stolen the Smythe farm right out from under Liam Smythe years before? I didn’t care what my Father and Mother’s concerns were, I was crazy in love with Rupert Giles and he was crazy in love with me; the hell with everyone else! I mean I was only nineteen-years-old at the time and still very naïve, even for that time.”

“From day one, Rupert and I were inseperable, even though my parents were furious with the situation. Buffy, William’s Dad was so much fun then, I mean silly, wild fun, the kind of man that is so appealing to a sheltered, serious young woman like I was. In fact, he was even considered a bit of a rebel back then,” she giggled and winked at Buffy, who couldn’t help but smile back at her. “However, as time went on, I noticed Rupert becoming more and more like his own Father, the elder William Giles; power hungry, money hungry and almost ruthless in his methods to get what he wanted. That’s the main reason I kept putting Rupert off when he kept asking me to marry him, I was afraid of just who my lover was turning into and felt powerless to stop him. Fate intervened, however, and well, I became pregnant with Drusilla sometime after my twenty-first birthday.” Buffy couldn’t help but shrug at this admission, not from indifference, but because it simply was no big deal, now anyway for a woman to have a child out of wedlock and she didn’t yet understand the importance of what Jenny would tell her next.

“I know that in your time, in your world, Buffy,” Jenny sighed wistfully, “an unmarried, pregnant young woman would not even raise an eyebrow. But this was almost thirty-three years ago and in my world, this world,” Jenny waved her slim arm around the gardens, “well, the daughter of Lord Calendar, pregnant and unmarried, even to an upstart like the heir of William Giles? Buffy, it was devestating and I’m not strong like you are. If I was, I would have simply had my child and ignored the evil gossip and snide remarks that would have just killed my parents. Instead, I married Rupert and I’m not sorry, Buffy, I’m not. I love my children, my husband and this place, I just wish I could have helped mold Rupert more into the kind of man he could have become, much like I want my son to be.”

Buffy felt her eyes tear up, involentarily, and she clutched Jenny’s hand in hers, tightly. “What are you saying, Jenny?” she whispered, shakily, finally using the name that Will’s Mother had begged her to call her for years. “I’m saying, Buffy, darling,” Jenny patted her tiny hand with her other one, “that I agree with my son, you are the one for him. In fact, I think you’re the ‘only’ one that can save him from himself. Please, Buffy,” she whispered, “help William become the man that you and I both know he can become. A truly great man, one that doesn’t live for power and money, but finds his true happiness in living for the ones he loves the most. And, Buffy, my son not only loves you, he worships you with all of his heart and soul. You have the power to guide him, and I know you are strong enough to do whatever it takes to show him the way.” Buffy wrapped her arms around Jenny and hugged her tightly, “I’ll try Jenny, honest I will. I love him, so much.”

Jenny stood up, and pulled Buffy with her, “now, I’m going to let you in on another little secret,” she giggled through her fresh tears, “I didn’t just name my Knight’s Lady Rose for Margaret Giles, although I let Rupert and William think that.” Buffy smiled through her own tears, “who else did you name it for?” she asked innocently. “You, Buffy,” Jenny chuckled, quite pleased with herself when she saw the stunned look on the younger woman’s face. “To me, Buffy, you are the rose. The pale pink petals on top hide the inner flower, it’s deep pink hue is the strength of the bloom. You are like the rose Buffy, or rather, it’s like you; deceptively fragile outside, but strong as iron on the inside. I’ve always admired that in you and now I need you to utilize that strength and help my son, please.”


Flashback “Spike’s POV’


Alexander Harris, or Xander as his close friends called him, showed up in Spike’s office early on Thursday morning. “Mr. Giles,” the rather dowdy, but efficient secretary, Doris Kroger, had announced, “Alexander Harris is here to see you.” Spike told his employee to show Mr. Harris in immediately. Xander literally flew into Spike’s office like an Army messenger, unable to wait to make his report as soon as possible. “Spike, man,” Xander greeted him, hurridly, “we need to talk, now!” Spike stood up and went around the front of his desk, then sat down on it, motioning Xander to sit down in the leather chair in front of him. “It’s about Buffy,” Xander blurted out urgently, “she’s in trouble and Cordy and I are just sick with worry!” The blond British man raised his eyebrow, it had always been a pretty smooth manuveur on his part, for some reason, it scared a lot of business rivals and he’d learned to use it to bring them to their knees. “What’s wrong with Buffy,” he asked, more calmly then he really felt. “Last night, that prick Angel waited for her at her place. Cornered her really and started asking lots of questions about her, and you,” Xander responded through gritted teeth.

“It must have been past midnight when she called my place,” Xander explained, “she was sobbing her heart out, asking for Cordy to talk to her. I insisted that me and Cordy go over there and try to find out just what the hell was going on!” Spike clenched his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check, something that was more hard for him then anyone could imagine. “We hurried over there and found the poor little thing all huddled up on her couch. Cordy noticed the fresh bruise on her cheek…..” Spike literally sprung up from the desk, like a lion and roared, “did that fuck hit Buffy?” Xander shrunk back momentarily, then stood up to his full 6’1” heigth. “Yes,” he answered truthfully, “he slapped her and called her filthy names, bitch and all. He also tried to turn her self esteem into shit! Told her that he wouldn’t have gone to other women if she’d been more, well, responsive and everything. I’ve always hated that prick, Spike, I mean it and he’s been screwing the biggest skank in Sunnydale, Faith Evans. I just don’t get it, Buffy’s such a special woman, you’d think even a moron like Angel O’Connor would realize how wonderful she is.”

Spike felt the rage begin to build up inside of him. “I’ll fuckin’ tear his head off and shove it up his arse!” he promised himself and Xander, loudly. “Where is he, Xander, right this minute,” Spike growled, not able to see any color but bright red at the moment. “Classes at college, I guess,” Xander responded with hesitation, “but, Spike,” he continued cautiously, “I think, if I were you, which I’m not, but, I think I’d sit and kind of think things out for a while.” The blond man looked at the taller dark one, a puzzled expression on his face. “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Xander tried to explain, “I’d like nothing more then to see Angel beaten to within an inch of his life, but I’m more concerned about Buffy and her feelings in this.” Again, Spike shot Xander a confused look. “Buffy’s a sweet girl, Spike,” Xander explained, “it’s not that she’s in love with Angel, not now anyway, but she’d never want anyone to physically hurt him, not because of her. I’m really bad at explaining things but, I guess what I’m saying is that Buffy wouldn’t want anyone to hurt another human being, not even for her sake.”

Spike was beginning to understand, even if he couldn’t agree with what Xander was saying. “Okay, Xander,” he said, trying to keep his voice in control, “I get it. Buffy doesn’t want this prick Angel to be beaten to a bloody pulp, by me or anyone else, right?” Xander nodded vigorously, “right,” he confirmed. “Thanks, mate,” Spike muttered to Xander before he sent him out of his office, “I’ll remember this.” When Xander had vacated the premises, Spike picked up his cell phone and dialed Charles Gunn, his best employee and good friend. “Speak,” came the deceptively kind voice of Charles Gunn. “It’s Spike,” William responded, “I need another favour.” As if Charles had any choice in the matter, which he didn’t, he quickly asked his employer what he wanted him to do. “I want you to give all the information you have on Angel O’Connor to Robin Wood, your mate on the at the Police Department,” he ordered. “Not the crap about his fuck buddy, Faith Evans sleeping with Angel, I’m the only that gets to kick the shit out of the bloody prick, not a jealous cop with a gun. But everything about the drug dealing. I want this O’Connor guy out of Buffy’s life, forever and I want him to suffer like she did. In fact, I want Angel O’Connor to learn what the term bitch really means, especially in prison.”

Jenny and Buffy strode to the house together, still arm in arm, only to be met by Will, Rupert, Drusilla and Geniveve along with her baby Rose. “Oh look, Geni!” Drusilla cried to her step daughter, “it’s my Knightly brother’s golden Princess and my Mummy!” The dark haired beauty ran to embrace Jenny and Buffy warmly. Buffy looked over at Will, sympathetically as she hugged his strange older sister tightly. Poor Drusilla was as dottie, as the English call it, as ever and Buffy was just heartsick about it. “You look well, Drusilla,” Buffy offered with a warm smile. “I’m very well, thank you,” Dru responded, hugging her brother’s consort lovingly. “Just look at my grandbaby, Lady Buffy,” she giggled like a child, “isn’t she gorgeous!” Buffy had to agree, the little English Rose was indeed gorgeous. “When are you and my brother, ‘the Crown Prince’ going to bless the kingdom with your own heirs, Lady Buffy?” Dru giggled mischieviously. “Someday, maybe,” Buffy whispered to her lover’s beloved older sister, giving Geniveve a sad look.

Buffy relieved Geniveve of her precious baby daughter and carried the child back into the rose gardens, singing to the little beauty as she went. . “She’s a rare one,” Geni remarked to the four remaining Gile’s clan. “Yes, she is,” Spike agreed in a tone full of awe as he watched his love dance around his Mother’s gardens with the beautiful baby. “A natural born Mother,” Rupert piped up proudly. “A real lady,” Jenny added lovingly. “An epic Princess,” Drusilla stated firmly.

Later they all went back to the Manor, where Giles brought out his best sherry and poured generous amounts to everyone. Even poor Drusilla, who was, at the time, trying to convince Buffy that not only was her brother, William, the ‘White Knight’ but that Buffy was the ‘lady in distress’ captured by the evil dragon and held in the dark tower. Buffy sat through all of Drusilla’s ramblings, patiently listening to her fairy tales and even responding from time to time.


Flashback ‘Buffy’s POV’


Buffy went through the motions for the next twenty-four hours, the stupid innane motions that she needed to go through to survive. She went to work at The Chateau Thursday night, not because she wanted to, but because she had to, taking care to cover the nasty mark that Angel’s huge hand had made with a lot of face powder. Xander had been the utmost in sympathetic, he must have told the rest of staff to ‘tred carefully around Buffy’ because even the young busboys were on their best behavior with her. Around 9:30 PM that night, Buffy was checking over the accounts in the back of the restaurant, something she did periodically for Xander, when William Giles came sauntering through the door. “Close the books, Princess,” William commanded her. “Go away,” she sighed, without even looking up at him, “I don’t want to talk to you right now.” William strode right up to her, pulled the pen from her hand and threw it on the desk she sat at, “don’t care,” he stated, “you are going to talk to me right now. Get your things,” he ordered, “you’re going with me.”

Buffy scrunched up her face and then gave William her patent, ‘go to hell’ look, “no,” she said quietly, “I’m not going anywhere with you.” With a ‘hmph,’ she went back to studying The Chateau’s accounts, trying to ignore the blond man in all black who glowered above her. Before Buffy could cry out her dissaproval, William picked her up and threw her over his shoulders, ignoring the shocked looks of some of her co-workers. “Bloody little stubborn brat!” he hissed as he carried her out of the back office to the nearest exit, “someone needs to give you a good spanking, little one,” he chuckled. As she passed Xander Harris, she thought she heard him tell the stunned onlookers something about a play rehearsal. Spike carried her to his waiting black Porshe and before she could catch her breath, Buffy found herself tossed into the passenger seat. He started the engine and sped out of the parking lot. “You better be taking me home,” she hissed at her abductor angrily, “or I’ll get in touch with the Sunnydale Police Force and…” William laughed out loud, “the Sunnydale Police Force couldn’t find their dicks in broad daylight, Princess!” He lit a cigarette and continued to drive, but only after rolling down both of the windows in his car, somewhere up the 101 Highway, in complete darkness.

“You realize, of course, Buffy muttered through clenched teeth, “that this is kidnapping?” Spike laughed again, “yes, Princess, I’m more then aware that this is kidnapping. I don’t really give a rat’s arse, but if you do, then feel free to scream out your window for help.” Buffy contemplated just that, screaming out the window for help, but realized it was futile. First off, who would hear her over the waves of the Pacific that crashed on the left side of Highway 101; secondly, just how much did she, Buffy Anne Summers, want to have anyone hear or even rescue her. “You’re truly screwed up, Buffy,” she told herself. Finally, she opted for a simple question, “where are we going?” she asked softly. “To Pismo Beach,” William responded matter-of-factly, “Xander told me that there’s this great hotel, sits right on the beach and we’re going to spend a couple of days there.” Buffy looked at this man as if he’d lost his mind completely….”I can’t spend a couple of days anywhere,” she gasped, “I’ve got work at The Bronze tomorrow night, and……” Spike winked at her out of the corner of his eye, “oh, don’t worry about your second job at The Bronze Princess,” he assured her, “I’ve called in and told them you won’t be back.”

“You pompous overbearing ass!” she gasped even as he sped down the 101 a little on the fast side. “Well,” he chuckled happily, “I’ve been called worse, Buffy, especially by my business rivals, but I have to admit, they were a lot less cute then you.” Buffy sat in silence the rest of the way to Pismo Beach and didn’t even bolt from the car when he pulled into the hotel parking lot. After all, it would do no good to cause a scene, not for either one of them at this point in time. “I’m going in to register, Buffy, luv,” he told her, “either wait here or make a run for the beach to escape, either way I’ll catch up to you.” Buffy found herself frozen in shock. She was up in Pismo Beach, miles from Sunnydale with this apparently psychotic, albeit gorgeous, British male who had virtually kidnapped her from her home! “Oh God,” she growled in frustration, “why me? Why now and why him?”

“Come on, Princess,” he ordered as he pulled her from his sports car and led her into a rather impressive suite that set right next to the waves of the Pacific. Buffy looked around the room, overwhelmed at first then spat at him, “what now? I fall to my knees, thank God and Wall Street for the amazing William ‘Spike’ Giles and thank him in my humble but womanly way?” William smiled gently, “no Buffy,” he murmered, “you order room service, anything you want, drink a glass of wine and just talk to me for as long as you need to. If you want me to sleep on the balcony, I will. Want me to sack out on the couch over there, no problem, luv. Bloody hell, woman, I’ll lay down and pass out on the floor if that’s what you really want, but just talk to me. Here and right, tonight. Buffy felt her resolve melting away, this guy was really good after all, a virtual poet when it came down to it. “I just need to sleep,” she mumbled softly, “I’m so tired, William, I just need to get some sleep.”

Spike smiled, his most impressive smile and led Buffy over to the King sized bed in the next room of the suite. “Anything you want Buffy,” he whispered as he lay her down on the soft, plush comforter. “I’m going to go have a drink in the front area, you need me,” he purred, “just call to me.” Buffy waited until he left the room and stripped off her Chateau clothes, “oh I just bet you want me to ‘call to you’ William Giles,” she hissed as she folded her clothes and lay them on the divan next to the bed. “I’ll call you alright! Call you a kidnapping, controlling asshole! That’s what I’ll call you.” Buffy tried to go to sleep, really, but the thought of that snarky, British blond punk in the next room, well okay, so he was less punk and more hunk, anyway, he had kidnapped her and brought her up here, hadn’t he?

“You could have fought more,” she told herself, “you could have told him to let you go, leave you alone, get the hell out of your life!” But she hadn’t, had she? “Buffy Summers,” she sighed, “you are totally screwed, in the metaphorical sense that is,” she assured herself. Something in Buffy told her to get up and go find William, right now, they needed to get something cleared up. When she snuck into the front of the suite, she found him watching some soccer match on TV, his chest was bare, which was reasonable because she saw his clothes folded up and set on the end table by the couch. “William?” she whispered shyly, hoping he’d at least turn to acknowledge her, which he did immediately, “could I have a word with you?” He nodded with a smile and patted the couch next to him, even while he looked at her admiring her in the bulky terry cloth robe the hotel and provided. “I’m not going to sleep with you, William, get that straight,” she said firmly with her arms folded in front of her chest. William looked at her for a second then said with mock a dissapointed whine, “oh bloody hell, Buffy and I even brought my favorite ‘Sesame Street’ jammies with me, the ones with ‘The Count’ on them.” Buffy just rolled her eyes and finally set down next to him.

“Are you this much of a pompous ass in your business,” she asked, scooching up closer to see the tiny men on the television screen. “Usually more so,” he laughed, turning the sound of TV down with the remote. “This a family genetic thing, or just a William ‘I’m God’ Giles kind of thing?” “It’s all me, Princess,” he admitted with a smirk, “my old man’s pretty Godlike, especially in his own mind, but I hold my own with him. I’m pretty much my own man, Buffy. As fucked up as that might be. Sorry for the fucked up thing,” he apologized with a blush. “I hate nasty words, Will,” she sighed as she closed her eyes and tried to relax on the plush couch they shared. “That’s okay,” William chuckled, “I ‘ave a feeling you talk the talk, walk the walk and don’t give a damn about what other people think, Buffy Summers, not really.”

Buffy remembered the stupid joke William had made about the ‘jammies’ and it reminded her that she had nothing but her Chateau hostess dress with her and it was just way too ‘evening’ to meander around Pismo beach in. “I can’t stay here, William,” she sighed a little too wistfully. “I don’t have any clothes.” William broke out in a laugh, “that’s fine by me, but if you insist on being dressed, we’ll go downstairs and buy you some clothes.” She stared at him like he was insane, “I couldn’t let you do that, William,” she gasped. “I’m not that kind of girl, I don’t take presents from virtual strangers you know.” He stopped laughing at that, “I know that Buffy, I know just what kind of a girl you are. You’re a lovely, bright and decent woman who’s had a lot of shit thrown at her lately and is still sweet and real, not a phoney chit or a user. But, I’m afraid you’re going to be stuck here with me for at least two days and you’re right, you will need clothes. So,” he pulled out his wallet along with a cigarette, “I’m going to go smoke outside and look at the great expanse of sea, you take this card and hold onto it. In the morning you can go down and buy the whole damn shop out, or I’ll go for you, so you don’t have to wear that rather daring little number from work.”


Present Day


Buffy snuggled down into the nice comfy bed, alone, for now anyway. William was still downstairs with his Dad, drinking the rest of the Counties dry, no doubt, and she decided to make an early night of it, again. The poems that Will had written about her, Buffy, were sitting on the little oaken end table next to her bed and she couldn’t wait to read them. Of course, Jenny had pleaded with Buffy not to tell Will that she had given them to her, he’d have just died of embarrassment over that. She settled down into the soft bed and reached for the white papers with Will’s beautiful script written on them. She read the first one, with an open mind and heart, it was entitled ‘The Jealous Sun’ and was written, according to the date on the paper, over two years before.

“The Jealous Sun”

The sun is jealous of my love
It hangs it’s head in shame
In all it’s glory it can’t
Outshine, my own
Sweet Buffy’s flame.

Buffy ‘is’ the sun to me
She brings my dark
Soul to light
Eases my worried brow and
Chases off the night.


The sun is jealous of my love
It hangs it’s head in shame
And I was lost, into the night
Until my Buffy came.


By the time Buffy finished the last stanza of the simple, short poem, she was crying uncontrollably, “I can’t leave him, ever,” she sobbed to herself. “He truly loves me and needs me desperately. What can I do, dear God, tell me what to do.” The clock on the mantel struck midnight, and Buffy was snapped out of her self imposed misery to hear Will stumbling about in ‘his’ room next door. She tried to calm down and wiped away the tears on her cheeks, carefully hiding the letters of poetry in the end table’s drawer. “ Twenty, twenty, twenty-four hours ago; I wanna’ be sedated,” came Will’s voice from the other side of the door. Buffy took a deep breath and considered rinsing her face in the adjoining bathroom when she suddenly heard a large ‘bang’ from Will’s room, “OH Bloody Fuck! That hurt!” he yelped. She could tell that Will and his Father had indeed drank the rest of the Counties dry and waited with baited breath to see what her guy would do next.

A light tapping came on the adjoining door, “Buffy,” he whispered, “you awake?” She couldn’t help it, she giggled but didn’t answer. “Buffy,” he whined a bit louder now, “ the big bad Spikey is here to play with you. Come out and play, Buffy. Come out, come out where ever you are, Buffy,” he slurred in a sing song voice. “Get your sexy British ass in here right now, Will Giles,” she ordered just loudly enough for him to hear, “and make sure your parents and the staff don’t hear you!” He chuckled softly as he opened the door and made his way to her bed, “that’s my Buffy. There’s my slayer, the girl who slew the mighty Spike Giles.” Buffy threw her arms out in welcome and Will literally fell into them, “I love you my slayer girl,” he whispered as he cuddled into her warm body. “I love you ‘big bad’ Spike,” she murmered back at him warmly.


A/N: Okay, a couple of things here (yeah, a couple, uhhuh!). First off, I’m sorry for the cornball convo between Buffy and Jenny, but I had to convey that Jenny is ‘on Buffy’s side’ in the matter of Spike. Second, the ‘Spike throws Buffy over his shoulder thingy’ please bear with me, it seems like a Spike thing to do! Third, the poetry sucks, I know it, but please remember, I’m a bad poetress, but a good woman! Please review and thanks everyone for reading.
Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 9: ‘Best Laid Plans’


The ‘little’ bed and breakfast that William always referred to, the one in Bath, Great Britain, was more like a remodeled manor over hundreds of years old. Buffy had fallen in love with the old place the year before and couldn’t wait to get back to it. It was nestled back in the woodlands, surrounded by huge gardens that rivaled Jenny Giles and overlooked a lush green valley. Of course, Will made sure they had the 'best’ room in the hotel, the best view, the best furnishings, the best of the best, nothing less for Buffy.

While using Gile’s Manor as a home base, Buffy and William rented a car and drove to Bath for a stay of three days. Buffy wanted to get back to Gile’s Manor within a good amount of time, because she of course couldn’t wait to get into London and see just everything she could again. With it’s history, museums, architecture and sense of tradition, it was like an opiate to someone with Buffy’s tastes. She knew that William just gave into most of her whims, he wasn’t really into art and such, but he loved her, that was one thing she could be sure of. He would do ‘almost’ anything for her, but perhaps not the one thing she truly needed him to do…change his killer business instincts and controlling nature.


Flashback Spike’s POV


Spike sat at his office desk bright and early on Monday morning, smoking his third cigarette of the day and drinking his second cup of coffee. He knew his Mum and Dad would laugh at him, his Americanized habit of coffee instead of tea, but the truth was, he really didn’t like tea, never had. While checking something of absolutely little interest to him on his computer, he thought back to a few days before and his little ‘trip’ with Buffy. Once she’d gotten over calling him a psycho, kidnapping, overbearing pompous ass, she settled down and began to relax with him at the hotel. With a chuckle, he remembered the look on her face when he’d brought back three huge bags of ‘things’ from the boutique right in the lobby of the hotel. Buffy, at first, was hesitant about even looking at the clothes and things he’d picked out for her, he had to didn’t he? She only had one piece of real clothing with her, the restaurant hostess dress that would raise more then one or two eyebrows in the hotel shop. Of course, he’d spent the night before on the couch, leaving her the huge and rather inviting king sized bed in the suite to sleep in all by her lonesome. Not that he was happy about that, of course not, but he really didn’t expect a woman like Buffy to welcome him into her bed, especially after he’d basically taken her away against her will and cost her her second job at that rathole, Bronze.

Like he had explained, twenty or so times to Buffy, not only was she above that job, it was probably not in her best interests to be within five miles of this Faith skank that had slept with Angel O’Connor. Besides, Spike had already arranged with Xander Harris to take Buffy on another night at The Chateau, a much more agreeable job for someone like her. It helped that he’d already also arranged to buy half of the restaurant, without Buffy’s knowledge of course, along with Xander, who Spike now considered a straight up bloke and a good friend. Never hurt to have varied businesses anyway, even if Rupert Giles would probably raise his eyebrows at his only son who would buy a restaurant of any kind. ‘If he met Buffy,’ Spike reasoned, ‘Dad would buy the bloody thing himself, just to keep an eye over his son’s future wife and mother of his grandchildren.’ Spike, to be sure, was already very certain that Buffy Summers would soon be Mrs. William Giles, even if he had to ‘talk’ her into marriage.

More important then anything, the last couple of days in Pismo Beach had given both Spike and Buffy time and space to get to know each other better. When they weren’t walking along the beach, they were going through the hundreds of antique shops, or eating at some surprisingly decent restaraunts. The very first night, of course, Buffy spent calling him names and accusing him of all sorts of devious acts, understandable, really. “Would you have gone out with me if I’d have asked you on a normal date first?” Spike asked her finally at around 2:00 AM. “No,” she answered without missing a beat. “Well,” he retorted, “you gave me no choice but to drag you up here. How can you get to know me if you don’t spend some alone time with me?” Buffy didn’t seem totally placated by that, naturally, but she did give in and seemed to relax with him, even suggesting some things they could do together, thus the antique shops she adored. Of course, she stuck to her guns, she did not sleep with him, period and he slept on couch. He did not push the issue, like it or not, just accompanied her everywhere she went, of course, and even took her to see some silly chick flick at the theatre in town. One that she sat and cried about for at least two hours once they’d gotten back to the hotel room. Spike gallantly patted her on the back gently to comfort her, careful not to press too closely to her, and brought out a bottle of champagne from the suite’s kitchenette.

Deep in memories at his office desk this Monday morning, Spike barely heard Mrs. Kruger buzz a call into him. “It’s Mr. Gunn,” she stated in her nasally voice. “Spike?” came Charles usually casual tone, a very deceptive tone indeed. “What’s up?” Spike asked, a bit put off that his thoughts of Buffy were disturbed. “Well, Angel O’Connor won’t be bothering Buffy Summers anymore, not for a long while anyway.” Spike sat up abruptly, “tell me that prick is in jail,” he ordered rather then asked. “Oh, yeah and he’s looking at prison time, Wood’s sure of it. In fact, old Robin couldn’t wait to help bust this guy. I’m thinking that he may have suspected something between his squeeze and this Angel dickhead. I did tell him that he hit Buffy Summers, thought that would up the anger level for old Robin and his Sunnydale Boyscouts.” Spike smiled, even if he was still pissed about the bruise on poor Buffy’s face; she’d tried to cover it the whole time in Pismo, but he saw it. In fact, Spike would never forget it, but at least for a while, hopefully a long long while, Buffy would be completely free of Angel O’Connor.


Present Day


Buffy just loved London. Actually she loved everything she’d ever seen, done or been a part of in England, but London was her favorite place of all. She was standing on the balcony of the Westbury Mayfair Hotel, loving every breath of the city she was taking and listening to Will ‘chat’ on the phone with someone from Sunnydale; Charles Gunn, she supposed. ‘There’s something fishy about that Gunn guy,’ she thought to herself, but quickly dismissed the thought as Will joined her on the balcony. Will threw his arms about her waist and pulled her to him, “so, where first, Princess?” he murmered as he nuzzled her neck with his lips. “British Museum, National Gallery, or right to the William Morris Museum so you can gloat and discuss the finer points of socialism with me, died in the wool bloody capitalist that I am?” He chuckled in her ear before he gave it a soft kiss. The sun was just beginning to set and Buffy was tired from the trip back to Gile’s Manor, then straight to London; she just wanted a bath, room service and bed, in that order, hopefully.

“Can we stay in tonight, Will?” she asked, snuggling into his arms even more, “it’s kind of late for museums and I’m kind of tired and hungry. What do you say, we’ll slip into a lovely tub and discuss a true ‘unhostile’ capitalist takeover?” Buffy smirked and giggled when Will actually blushed pink, matching his own patent smirk. “Well,” he sighed, kissing first her forehead softly, then her cheek, then her lips with his own, “I’ll take a bath with you over any bloody museum or financial discussion any day, luv.” He walked backwards, holding her tightly and leading her into the spacious bathroom of the Westbury and to the huge lion footed tub.


Flashback Buffy’s POV


Buffy was just finishing up with classes on Tuesday and getting ready to report to The Chateau for work that evening. Luckily, Xander had asked her to come in an extra day from now on, which was pretty timely, considering William Giles had cost her her job at The Bronze. Not that she was exactly crying over that one, the thought of being anywhere near Faith Evans made her physically ill and the hours were just too killer, even if they were weekend hours. Frankly, Buffy needed more time to study for classes and just plain more time for herself. She still couldn’t get over the whole ‘kidnap’ plan that William had maneuvered last Thursday night, not to mention the fact that Xander had something to do with it, but she did need this Chateau job, so…..

At precisely 8:30 PM that night, William walked into The Chateau and right up to Buffy’s station. “Oh, no, William Giles,” she hissed automatically, “no more Buffy kidnappings!” He laughed out loud, “no Princess, I came to ask you out on a real date this time. You know, nice place, dressed up in something you pick out, flowers and I actually pick you up, at your place.” Buffy looked him over once or twice, “well,” she stammered for a moment or two, “I shouldn’t allow a psychotic kidnapper to even know where I live, much less pick me up there, but, okay, this time.” To herself she thought, ‘damn pout of his, I knew it’d be trouble!’ “Okay, tomorrow night alright?” he smiled, a very dazzling smile she noted, “I work tomorrow night,” she answered, sounding just a tad too dissapointed to herself. “You can get out of work, I know it,” Will chuckled, “I’ve got an ‘in’ with your boss.” He smiled again and added, “see you at 7:30 PM, Princess,” as he turned and began to leave. “William,” Buffy called out, as lowly as she could to be heard, “I need to give you my address and directions.” William turned and smiled again, “I already have them.” Then he was gone out of the door.

William was ten minutes early and Buffy wasn’t ready yet, but almost. “Come in,” she smiled sweetly as she showed him into her tiny apartment. ‘He’ll probably think this place is a dump, compared to what he’s used to and all,’ she thought, concerned for some reason. “Nice place, luv,” he said politely as Mr. Gordo, her beloved tabby went up to investigate this strange man. The orange striped tabby sniffed William’s leg once or twice, rubbed against it and then looked at Buffy as if to say, “he’ll do, for a human that is.” William raised his left scarred eyebrow as if to ask “do I pass?” Buffy broke out in laughter, “I think Mr. Gordo likes you, William!”

“Do you like me, Princess? That’s the million dollar question,” William quipped back, sitting down on her Chinese silk sofa. “Well, yeah, I suppose I do Will!” she giggled back at him, “otherwise you wouldn’t be here, right?” As if to prove her right, Mr. Gordo slunk over to the sofa and jumped lightly, well as lightly as a fifteen pound tabby could, onto William’s lap. “Well,” Buffy continued to chuckle, “now I ‘know’ Mr. Gordo likes you. He never takes to anyone that fast!” William began to rub the purring cat’s head and smiled up at Buffy looking quite pleased to be appreciated by her cat. It caused Buffy’s breath to catch in her throat ‘you look like a young boy, Will,’ she thought, stunned. “Do you mind if I call you Will?” she asked suddenly, blushing. “No, Princess,” he chuckled, patting the cat again, “you’d be the only person alive I’d let call me Will.” Buffy grabbed her shawl off the cherry wood coat rack by the door, “well, I guess we can go, huh?” He nodded, gently putting Mr. Gordo down on the Persian throw in front of the sofa, “hope you like Italian food, Princess,” he said, “Xander tells me this place up the coast is very good. It’s the La Trattoria and old Harris claims it’s the best place for miles.”


Present Day


“Wow!” Buffy whispered after finishing the last of her wine from dinner, “I’m really tired and kind of whoozy again, Will. Like before.” Spike got up from the other side of the ornate table and hurried around to her side. “This is beginning to really concern me, sweetheart,” he mumbled tenderly, his tone thick with worry. “Oh, don’t worry, Will,” she sighed and put her little warm hands on his cheeks, “I’m sure it’s just some side affects and all.” He looked at her, totally puzzled and unsure of what she was trying to tell him.

“Side affects of what?” Spike asked, beginning to feel very uneasy in the pit of his stomach. “My new birth control pill perscription, honey,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I didn’t want you to worry, it was just before our trip here. I noticed something wasn’t quite right so I went to see Dr. Denisof. He felt I should have a stronger perscription, that’s all. And, why didn’t you tell me you called him about that one time I forgot my old pill. He said you thought I’d missed more then two pills, but it was just one.” Spike felt like he’d been kicked in the gut, twice. “Why didn’t you tell me you went to the Dr. before we came here?” he asked quietly, trying not to show the dissapointment in his tone. “Like I said, sweetheart, didn’t want you to worry. I know how nervous coming here, seeing your Dad in particular makes you. I just wanted to take care of the problem and let you relax this once.”

“Oh, uhm,” Spike could barely breathe, much less speak right then. Not only had Buffy learned about the ‘phone call’ to Dr. Denisof, she apparently got put on stronger birth control pills. He felt like he was going to be sick. “What did Dr. Denisof have you do with your old perscription, Princess?” he asked evenly, still trying to hide his stunned dissapointment. “I flushed them down the toilet, honey. Just like Dr. Denisof told me to. I guess they don’t want any pills to just get thrown in the trash.” Spike clenched his jaw, tightly, and tried not to sound angry, shocked or anything but genuinely concerned; she sat there, those green eyes all wide and adoring, shining at him. “Well,” he sighed, mustering a loving smile, “I’m just glad it’s not something more serious. I’m sure you’ll level out in no time and these ‘spells’ will fade away completely. What do you say, let’s hit the sack and I’ll try to think of some way to ease your fatigue and dizzyness?” To himself he thought, sardonically, ‘the best laid plans…’ He clutched her tightly to him, trying not to let her feel the desperation he now felt deep inside of himself. “I love you so much, Buffy,” he whispered, hoarsely, “I’d do anything for you, anything.”


A/N: Well, as I said in a few chapters back, Spike’s plans have a way of ‘backfiring’ on him. Next chapter, we’ll read about the ‘date’ to……over nevermind, please just read it. Read and review, please, thanks. Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 10: ‘I’d Be Bloody Lost’


Buffy and Will entered their apartment, hand in hand and exhausted from their two week trip to England. Mr. Gordo literally leapt from his usual post on the sofa into Buffy’s arms, gleefully purring his happiness at their return. “See, Princess,” Will chuckled, “told you Mr. Gordo would remember you and that Mrs. Walsh (the cleaning lady) would take good care of your precious feline.” She grinned happily at him, “you care for Mr. Gordo as much as I do, Will and you know it!” He smiled tenderly at Buffy and relieved her of the fifteen pound tabby, “go play in traffic, Gordo,” he mumbled, jokingly, to the cat, putting him on the floor.

“I’ll miss your homeland Will,” Buffy sighed wistfully, “but I’m glad to be home. I start classes with Tara next week and I can’t wait!” She half- skipped into their bedroom, more then ready to bathe and nap for a few hours. “You feel like a nap, Willie?” she sing-songed from the bedroom happily, “I’m ready to sleep for a month, jet lag I guess.” Will didn’t answer right away, so Buffy slipped back out into the front room to find him staring out of their sliding glass door, out at the Pacific Ocean. “What’s wrong, Will?” she asked softly, “miss England already?”

Spike shook his head, slowly, “no, don’t miss it at all, Princess,” he sighed, wrapping his left arm around her slim shoulders, “just miss the look you get when we’re there. You look like a kid at Christmas, all happy and excited every minute that we’re there. I just want you to be happy Buffy, it’s all I ever wanted you know.” Buffy clasped Will’s left hand with her own tiny hand, “I’m pretty happy Will,” she murmered, laying her head against his chest, “with classes starting next week and all, can’t ask for much more.” Spike wanted to believe her, needed to believe that his Princess would be content to go to a few classes and be fulfilled. However, the part deep inside of him, the one that knew her best, realized that Buffy was ‘missing’ something in her life, something he might be able to give her that he hadn’t yet. He just needed to find out what it was.


Flashback Spike’s POV


Spike drove slowly, for him anyway, up to the La Tratorria Restaurant, the one Harris had suggested. He was really beginning to count on Xander Harris, at least to enlighten him on the likes and dislikes of the little blond sitting next to him in his Porshe, Buffy Summers. This restaraunt was supposed to be great and more then that, the Maitre’D was a personal friend of Xanders, therefore, Buffy and Spike would get nothing but first rate service. Everything was supposed to be arranged, perfectly tonight; Spike and Buffy would arrive, be seated at the best table and offered unlimited amounts of Champagne. Of course, both Buffy and Spike would drink too much, at least he’d let her think that way and they’d have to stay at the lovely Blue Whale Inn he’d been told about, right next to the La Tratorria. No one would want Spike to drive such a precious cargo like Buffy Summers home, close to an hour’s drive, if they thought Mr. Giles was even slightly ‘buzzed’ from alcohol.

“I’ve never been here,” Buffy was saying casually, next to him. “I’ve never been here either, luv,” he responded honestly. “Hope Harris is right, it’s supposed to be good, huh?” Buffy shot him an unsure kind of look, “it’s a bit far from home, huh, William?” she asked uneasily, “are you going to drink?” Spike gave her a very reassuring smile, “yeah, but I won’t over do, luv, just enough to lighten up. You know how uptight I can be, right?” She just looked at him and rolled her eyes, never said a word one way or the other. True to his word, Xander had steered them right, the place was downright beautiful, in a rustic old world kind of way. And Tony, the Maitre’d was more then prepared for them; seating Buffy, pouring iced Champagne, everything was ‘Mr. Giles, Ms. Summers.’ ‘Perfect,’ Spike mused, ‘even more so if I can talk her into the Blue Whale Inn later.’

No one could hold any kind of alcohol like Spike could, except maybe his old man, Rupert. Buffy on the other hand was ‘gone’ after two glasses of Champagne, well not gone, really, but buzzed, surely. “Better slow down, Princess,” Spike whispered with a smile, “don’t want to over do, remember?” She gave him that adorable pout of hers, “I’m fine, Will, really! I love Champagne, besides, once I finish eating, it’ll be like I never had a drop, promise!” Spike raised his left brow in question, but just shrugged his shoulders and poured her another glass. By the time they’d finished their dinner, Spike had out drank Buffy by a mile, but ‘she’ was the one that was more then buzzed.

Buffy held her own, pretty much, behaving like a perfectly sober lady, no slurring of words or loud talk, but Spike could tell; she was past buzzed and on the way to toasted. Spike paid the tab, offered Buffy is arm and led her out to his Porshe. “Pretty!” Buffy cried pointing at the moonlit ocean, “can we walk on the shore, Will?” she asked excitedly. “I think we had better, Princess,” he chuckled, leading her to the wooden stairs that led down to the beach. After they’d walked about three blocks, Buffy stopped suddenly, “I’m exhausted,” she yawned, “we better get home, Will, sorry.” He smiled down at her, she looked like an angel in moonlight, “well to tell you the truth, luv,” he purred, “I’m tired and a bit ‘gone’ myself.” Making a big production of it, he stared back at the Inn about two blocks behind them, the one with the balconies that hung over the waves of the ocean. "What do you say, Buffy,” he said casually, as if he’d ‘just’ thought of it, “let’s stay at that rather posh place back there. I’m a bit concerned about driving you back, I’m afraid I’ve had more alcohol then I should have. I wouldn’t want to have an accident or get pinched by CHP. We could stay at that Inn, you’ll take the bed, of course, and I’ll have the couch? Just like in Pismo Beach?” Buffy seemed to ponder the suggestion for a minute, then, “well, okay, Will,” she whispered a slight smirk on her lips, “but just like in Pismo, I’m not going to sleep with you, got it? I mean it Will,” she hissed, “I’m keeping an eye on you, you’ve had too much to drink!” He stifled a laugh and nodded at her, “Got it Princess.”


Present Day


Buffy loved her classes at Sunnydale U. She loved the fact that she could get her hands back in the oil paints and even the water colors she so loved, in a classroom environment. Will had insisted, long ago, that she set up a little studio of her own in the extra bedroom of their apartment, but it just wasn’t the same. She wanted to share her love of art with other students, people who loved it as much as she did and wanted to share their particular artistic talents, also. Of course Will loved her, she got that, but Buffy wanted something that was just her own. Her love of art was just her own thing, Will was only interested because she was. That and the fact that the man she loved was smothering her, albeit slowly, by inches, even if he didn’t realize it.

Spike sat at the cherry wood coffee table in their living room, looking over some proposals that were important, but fairly dull to him. Buffy was still at her Wednesday night class at Sunnydale University and Spike was missing her terribly. This ‘used’ to be one of his working nights at his own place; he’d drink too much coffee, or more likely, whiskey, smoke too many damn cigarettes and try to concentrate on his paperwork. Now, since Buffy started back to school, he’d stay at their place, which he loved, of course, and do his work there. In fact, he’d put his lonely apartment up for sublease, no need for it anymore, he was lonely enough on these nights, here, without Buffy around for hours. ‘My Princess thinks she’s in the way,’ he mused sadly, ‘she’s never in my way.’ “Fuckin’ art classes,” he muttered sourly, “wish the bloody college would burn down. Without anyone there of course,” he added quickly.

His cell phone rang and he picked it up quickly, no need to worry about any interruptions at this point. “Giles,” he answered, indifferently, noting that the caller ID didn’t show Buffy’s cell number on it. “Spike, it’s Charles, man,” came his number one employee’s voice. “What is it?” Spike mumbled, tossing the papers from his hands to the table. “Well I’m sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news but….” Spike bolted up from the floor, “Buffy!” he cried hoarsely, “what’s wrong?” Charles hesitated but then continued, “not Buffy, Spike, sorry, should have just come out and said it. Buffy’s fine, at least I’m sure she is, but this does have something to do with her.”

Spike felt that sick intuition of his bubble up from his gut and catch in his throat, making it almost impossible to breath, “what?” he asked, his voice was like gravel. “It’s Angel O’Connor, man,” Charles stammered, apparently fearing his boss’s reaction, “he got out of prison this morning, good behavior or some such shit.” Spike felt a bolt of sharp pain shoot through his forehead, it stopped, full force somewhere around the back of his head. “Where is he?” he asked Gunn with a surprisingly calm voice. “Well, I thought you’d want to know his whereabouts at all times, Spike, so I had Wesley Rhys-Smith put a tail on him immediately, and guess what?” Spike didn’t feel the need to ask ‘what,’ so he just let Gunn continue. “Spike, man, he didn’t run home to LA, to his Mommy and Daddy, he headed right back here to good old Sunnydale.”

There’s this ‘condition’ that’s known as ‘white heat.’ It’s when a person is so angry or panics so much that they can’t even see colors like red anymore; everything turns into a blinding white light. This is what Spike was experiencing right then, the minute that Charles Gunn told him that Angel, first class prick and his beloved Princess’s ex-lover was back in Sunnydale. First, Spike took a deep breath, then he swallowed hard and tried his best to control his temper and the loudness of his voice. “Make sure that this guy tailing that prick Angel is good, real good,” he ordered Gunn in a deceptively calm voice, “I want to know everything he does here in Sunnydale and everyone he sees. If that fuck goes within a ten mile radius of my Buffy, I want to know the second it happens. Understand me, Charles?” Charles Gunn understood completely.

Mr. Gordo slunk up to Spike and rubbed against the leg of his jeans, purring lowly. Spike clicked off his cell phone and set it on the table in front of him, then picked up the tubby tabby and lay him on his lap. He rubbed the cat’s head and neck, lovingly, “what am I going to do, mate?” he asked the furry creature, “I love our Buffy so much, couldn’t bear to lose her. Not now, not ever.” Gordo just purred, his eyes half closed in feline pleasure. “Do you have any idea what would happen to me if I lost her, cat?” he whispered, smiling sadly at the rather large bundle of fur on his lap, his eyes threatened tears. “I’d be lost, pure and simple, or just a thing, a bloody walking corpse, no more than that.”

Buffy hurried into the apartment complex elevator, still nervous about being alone in the parking lot after dark. Even with the security guards and gates, she still got very antsy in the desolate lot alone. “I think I know why Will worries about me so much,” she reflected, riding the elevator up to their apartment, “it’s creepy out there in the lot alone, even with guards and other residents wondering around.”
When she opened the front door of their apartment, Buffy immediately sensed the presence of ‘gloom’ about the place. “Will!” she shouted, “I’m home. Where are you?” Her first instinct was to check the balcony, thinking he’d gone out there for a cigarette, but he wasn’t there.

A sense of panic began in her tummy and moved up into her chest and throat, “why isn’t he answering me?” she wondered, beginning to worry. “Will,” she called, trying to remain calm. She searched the kitchen, then went into their bedroom, still no William. “I know he’s here somewhere,” she reasoned, she had seen his BMW in the parking lot, right next to where she parked the Corvette. The last place Buffy checked, was the place she finally found Will; he was sitting in her ‘studio’ room, staring blankly at the last project she had done. Actually, it wasn’t even half finished, Buffy had gotten too busy with school and all to complete the painting she had started. It was a portrait, a surreal genre in water colors of him, her William.

“Will?” she whispered, slightly frightened by his lack of movement. “Hello, Princess,” he sighed, finally making some motion and relieving her fears instantly. Buffy slowly walked up to her lover and sat gently down on his strong lap, he wrapped his arms about her, tenderly, “how was class?” he asked quietly, still looking at his half finished portrait. She snuggled down into his chest and glanced at the painting, “okay, well wonderful really. How are you?” He gave her a small, sad kind of smile, “okay. Missed you that’s all and I was wondering something, Princess,” he murmered in her ear. “What honey?” she asked. “I know this is a painting of me, I get that,” he began, his voice paused every other word or so, “and I guess I’m some kind of knight?” Buffy nodded slightly, not looking at him, just staring at her painting. “I was wondering,” Will asked, his voice barely audible, “shouldn’t my armour be silver or white; why is it black as night?”


A/N: Sigh, lots of metaphors in this chapter. Angel is back, but for Spuffy lovers, don’t worry, I would rather jump into the Hellmouth then have Buffy and Angel end up together! Please review, if you don’t like the story, that’s fine, I love constructive criticism. Thanks, Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 11: ‘Forgiveness’


Spike lay, next to Buffy in their bed, watching her sleep; the sleep of innocents he liked to call it. Because if anyone was innocent, it was his Buffy. Earlier, in her makeshift studio, Buffy had tried to explain away the black armour he wore in her painting of him, as being part of the unfinished work. Her nervous half smiles and quick explainations did little to appease his curiosity, they only heightened it. “Will,” she’d stammered nervously, “it’s only a silly painting, not even very good at all. Heck, I’ll probably never even finish it. Please don’t put so much importance on such a trivial thing.” He had let the subject drop and picked her up in his arms, carrying her into this very bed to make love, he’d missed her so much during the evening, after all.

With a sigh, he got up from their bed, careful not to wake his Princess, and padded out out onto the balcony to have a smoke, pulling his boxers on as he went. Staring out at the black waters of the Pacific Ocean, he thought back to a few weeks ago and that moment in London when he’d found out that Buffy was not taking those placebos. To say he had been dissapointed would be an understatement, actually, he’d hoped that her dizzy spells and fatigue were sure signs that she was pregnant. But, no such luck; fate had come and kicked him in the arse, causing his little plan to fail. Failure was not something Spike Giles was used to.


Flashback Spike’s POV


Xander Harris had been right, The Blue Whale Inn was elegant and perfect for what Spike had in mind with Buffy tonight. ‘Now if only Buffy would get on the same page as me,’ he mused as he watched her scurry around the suite, checking every little detail. “It’s beautiful, Will!” she cried, gleefully, “like a fairy tale or something!” Buffy hurried over to the french doors that led to the balcony, that set right over the waves of the Pacific. “Oh, Will,” she gasped, “you’ve got to see this! It’s magnificent!” Anything to oblige Buffy Summers, Spike sauntered over to the doors to where she stood, unbuttoning his shirt along the way. As much as he was born and raised to be a business man, Spike still preferred tee shirts, black especially, and jeans to the clothes trappings of the ‘Wall Street’ types. He walked up behind her and let his hands rest on either side of her shoulders, “yes,” he whispered softly in her ear, “it’s beautiful, but no where as lovely as you.” If he didn’t know better, he could swear he felt her tremble beaneath his hands right then.

He felt Buffy make a slight movement, as if to pull away from him, but he held her fast. “You don’t have to slip away from me, luv,” he purred soothingly, “I won’t bite, you know.” From his vantage point, he could see her bite her lower lip, nervously; she seemed to ponder something. “I told you, I’m not going to sleep with you William,” she finally said, firmly. “I didn’t know standing on a balcony, looking at the sea constituted two people sleeping together,” he chuckled, “I must’ve missed a class or something.” Buffy seemed to relax a little, rewarding him with a gentle laugh for his silly joke. Spike decided to take advantage of the relaxed moment and turned her gently to face him. When he could look directly into her gorgeous green eyes, he lowered his mouth down to hers and kissed her, almost chastely, right on her plump, lucious pink lips. “Oh,” she murmered softly, her eyes wide with surprise; which he took to mean ‘go ahead, kiss me more, Will.’ However, when he went back for more, she ‘did’ pull away from him abruptly, “I need to go to sleep,” she mumbled and hurried past him into the bedroom. Spike sighed and even flinched when he heard the bedroom door close, rather loudly, behind her.

Pulling a cigarette out of his pant’s pocket, Spike lit it and took a deep drag, enjoying the simple, deadly pleasure of the smoke. He stared out at the ocean, feeling rather lonely and quite sorry for himself, indeed, that Buffy hadn’t fallen for what he considered some pretty smooth moves. "God but she’s a stubborn little thing,” he thought, smiling despite his dissapointment, “but I know she’s worth the bloody wait and when she comes around, it’ll be paradise.” Spike heard the water from the suite’s shower turn on and laughed slightly, thinking how nice it would be to join Buffy in the bath. “Might as well hit the sack,” he reasoned, stubbing out the cigarette in a receptacle on the balcony and closing the french doors behind him. First he made sure that Buffy was still in the shower, then he stripped down to his boxers and checked the closet for extra bed covers, happily finding them. Then he went around the suite, checking locks and even end table drawers. Finally the shower water ceased to run and he heard Buffy exit the bathroom and head into the bedroom that was attached. Making sure she was truly out of the bathroom, he headed in himself and took a shower too, but only after investigating the huge medicine cabinet over the sink and the drawers on the vanity. It was in his nature to check on such details and when he glanced in the medicine cabinet, he had to laugh at what he found there. “Not much need for that tonight!” he sighed.

After his quick shower, Spike listened in at Buffy’s bedroom door and heard absolute silence, also there was no light shining through the bottom of the door itself. “Asleep,” he thought, again dissapointed, “I doubt if I can sleep tonight. Knowing she’s in bed in the next room. Pismo Beach was hard enough, now this.” He went out the french doors and had another cigarette, only after he poured himself a shot of whiskey from the bar in the suite. Downing the shot in one gulp, he lit his cigarette and watched the moonlight play on the ocean waves. When he finished his smoke, he reshut the doors to the balcony and laid down on the plush sofa, pulling the bed clothes over him and trying not to think about the Princess asleep in the next room. “This is going to be a long night,” he sighed, adjusting his boxers to be more comfortable even as he closed his eyes to sleep.

Present Day


Buffy had an early class that morning and she had to hurry to get there on time. The little drama that had played out between her and William the night before, over that damn painting, had taken it’s toll on her. She tried to explain it away, the black armour, her interpretation of Will as a Knight and all, but he hadn’t bought it, she was sure. He had let the subject drop, but she could tell, it bothered him, even after they’d made love. While she feigned sleep, much later, Will had risen from their bed to go smoke, but he was gone far too long for just one cigarette and Buffy was sure he was out ‘worrying’ about the painting, her art classes and many things in general. ‘Why shouldn’t he?’ she asked herself sadly, ‘there’s a lot to worry about.’ As much as she loved William Giles, and as much as she’d tried for a long time now to battle her inner fears regarding his controlling nature; it was a battle she was losing, daily.

She hurried through the quad, trying to make up the time she’d spent oversleeping at home and almost running to make the class on time. Just before she entered the building that housed her first class of her schedule, she heard a voice from her past calling out to her, stopping her dead in her tracks. “Buffy?” the voice repeated, unsure, almost apologetic. Buffy turned around, fully aware of just who was calling to her. The sight of the large dark-haired man in front of her confirmed her suspicions. “Hello, Angel,” she greeted, evenly. “Hey, Buff,” he responded, warmly.

“What are you doing here, Angel?” she asked, hoping that he wasn’t enrolled in classes and wondering when he’d gotten out of prison. Angel took a step closer to her and she now saw that he’d lost quite a lot of weight in prison, his face was leaner, his body thinner and his usually longish hair was shorn much shorter then before. “I’m here to see you Buffy,” he answered softly, “I need to tell you something, more like ask you something really.” Buffy gave him a puzzled look, “how did you know I was here?” He explained, briefly, that he’d kept up on her through Oz, who had kept in touch with his ex-girlfriend Willow, even after she’d left him for Tara. “I need to ask a favour of you Buffy,” he whispered, coming even closer to her. She glanced around, nervously, making sure enough people were around to hear or see anything that might take place. “What is it, Angel?” she asked simply. “I need you to forgive me, Buffy,” he began, mumbled really, “I need you to forgive me for being such a prick to you and screwing up both our lives back then. I know it’s hard to do that, just like I know you have a really great life now, with that Billy guy, but please, if you could just forgive me, or say you do. I can move on and start my life over again, in LA that is, working for my Dad now.”

Buffy plopped down on a nearby bench and Angel followed her lead, sitting down right next to her. “I needed to see you, Buff. Needed to know you forgive me for screwing up so much then, that and I wanted to know that you’re really okay.” She nodded, rather then said anything to him. “Prison was a nightmare, Buffy,” he continued, “it was freakin’hell, actually, but I did learn some things about life and about myself.” When she didn’t say anything, he took it as a signal to go on. “I learned that you have to be responsible for your own actions; that no one can save you, you have to save yourself. And, that there’s so many kinds of prisons, mostly the ones you create for yourself.” That really hit home with Buffy, but she just stared ahead, concentrating on the grass covered quad in front of them. “Anyway,” he sighed, “I just wanted to see you, make sure you’re okay; which, by the way, you look great! And, ask you to forgive me.” He finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Buffy murmered, “and yes, Angel, I forgive you for everything. I just hope that you can go on to LA and make some kind of decent new life for yourself.” She felt his gaze on her and turned to look at him, “so,” he chuckled softly, “you and Billy, huh?” Buffy rolled her eyes at him, “it’s actually William, but yes, we’ve been together for three…..” Angel looked away suddenly and Buffy stopped her sentence, ‘three years’ she thought, ‘that’s odd, just the same amount of time since you went to jail?’ “I need to get to class,” she said abruptly, standing up. “Take care, Angel and good luck.” As she walked away, quickly, she heard him call behind her, “I’ll always love you, Buffy. Please just be happy.”

Spike paced back and forth in the apartment, anxiously waiting for Buffy to get home. He hadn’t mentioned Angel being out of prison or in Sunnydale again to her and he was more then worried about what would happen if Buffy and Angel happen to meet up. “Where the fuck is she? He asked the air around him for the twentieth time as he checked his rolex. “She should have been home over thirty minutes ago.” His cell phone broke his train of thought and he grabbed it from the coffee table, almost frantic, hoping it was Buffy calling. It was Charles Gunn. “Spike,” came Gunn’s strong voice, but different then usual, almost subdued for once. “What is it?” Spike asked gruffly, more then sure that ‘something’ wasn’t right here. “It’s about Angel,” Charles stammered, “and Buffy. There’s been a situation.”

If Spike had Charles Gunn right in front of him at that very moment, he’d have kicked the crap out of him just for general purposes. Instead, he had to be content to scream at his best employee, calling him every filthy name known to mankind. “What about Buffy? Quit being so bloody cryptic Charles!” he shouted, not caring if any of the neighbors heard, although that would be pretty impossible, he’d had their apartment soundproofed. “Angel, man,” Charles hesitated a moment, then, “the guy tailing Angel said he met up with Buffy at Sunnydale University earlier today.” Spike once again experienced that blinding white heat anger.

Buffy unlocked the apartment door, almost wary of going inside. She knew she ‘had’ to tell Will about Angel being at school today, but she didn’t know how to broach the subject. Her lover hated Angel almost as much as he loved money and power; a real lethal ‘love/hate’ relationship to be sure. When she went inside, she noticed right off that something was wrong. The whole front living room was clouded in cigarette smoke, which was odd, considering Will never smoked inside. That and the fact that Mr. Gordo was not at his usual station on the couch, added to the fact that the three couch cushions were flung in three different directions of the room and on the floor. Then, there was Will’s paperwork, torn into pieces and strewn about the carpet like confetti. All in all, it was a pretty ‘scary’ welcoming that Buffy got when she came home over an hour later then usual.

“Buffy!” came Will’s voice from their bedroom and she had no choice but to follow it in there. When she opened the door of the bedroom, she found Will sprawled out on their bed, half naked and apparently stone faced drunk, an empty bottle of whiskey beside him. “Will?” she whispered, standing at the door of the room, almost afraid to go inside. “Where the fuck have you been?” he growled, never taking his eyes off of her. They looked very red and very angry. “At school,” she whispered, timidly, “I helped Tara after class. I wanted to call, didn’t want to bother your work, though.” He reached over to the end table and grabbed his glass, downing the alcohol in one gulp, he tossed the empty glass on the floor, next to the empty bottle. “How thoughtful of you, Princess,” he slurred, “but you’re such a thoughtful little thing, aren’t you?” Mr. Gordo looked up at Buffy, from his ‘hiding’ place under the divan, as if to ask ‘what the hell!’

“Come ‘ere!” he commanded her, but she didn’t move, something told her to stand her ground and not get any closer to him. This wasn’t Will, she could tell. This was Spike in full bloom. “Get the fuck over here!” he shouted, bolting up in the bed and holding out his arms to her. “No,” she mumbled looking away from him, “you’re drunk Will, really drunk and I won’t even try to talk to you like this.” But before she could even get halfway through the living room, he grabbed her from behind and spun her around to face him. “Don’t you ever turn your back on me little girl!” he screamed, just inches from her face. Will!” she cried out, “you’re hurting me. Get your damn hands off me!” she ordered angrily.


“When were you going to tell me that your fucking ex tracked you down at school?” he roared, bringing her face to within an inch of his. Spike was beyond pissed at this moment, he was enraged. He neglected to realize, at that moment, that he hadn’t really given her time to say anything. Before she could answer, he growled, “and for the record, I’ll put my ‘damn hands’ on you, anywhere on you anytime I like. Remember who you belong to little girl!” Buffy stopped struggling and stared at him, opened mouth and apparently in shock. “Oh, God Will,” she whimpered, looking paler by the second. He could see tiny tears begin at the corner of her beautiful eyes, just threatening to spill onto her flushed cheeks. However, this time they didn’t melt his cold heart, they just infuriated him more. “Tell me!” he commanded again, controlling the urge to shake her, “were you even going to tell me Buffy? Do I have to have ‘you’ followed now, too?”

“What do you mean, have me followed now too?” she gasped, wild-eyed, “and how did you know that I saw Angel today?” He just glared at her, the gold flecks in his eyes flashed brightly with anger and mistrust. “Just how do you think I know?” he snarled, “I had the prick followed as soon as I found out he’d gotten out of prison. What am I supposed to do Buffy? Let him stroll back into town and hurt you again?” Buffy began to shake all over and the threatening tears turned into a stream that washed down her face and soaked the front of her sweater. “He was just here to ask me to forgive him, Will,” she choked, “probably some thing with a twelve-step program. He’s moving to LA, in fact, he’s probably there now. I’m sure you know that, having him followed around and all.”

Spike controlled his urge to shake her, again, and took a deep breath. “Look,” he tried to speak calmly, but failed miserably, his voice was like gravel and he was shaking now too, from rage. “This guy is no good, you know that. Of course I’d want to protect you from him, after what he did and…..” Buffy stuck out her chin defiantly, “he’s paid his dues, Will. He want’s to start a new life, in LA, let it go.” She finished with a whimper and finally pulled away from him. “You’re defending him now!” he cried in disbelief and hurt. “No!” she shouted back, “I’m saying let it go, let the past go, Will!” He ran his hand through his mussed hair, more out of nervous anger then anything else, “I just want to protect you, baby,” he said defensively, that’s why I called Charles Gunn and told him to…..” She looked at him, horrified, “you what? What did you do, Will?” Spike turned his back on her, “nothing for now, he muttered, but I’ll do anything I have to protect you,” he said harshly, “to protect ‘us’,” he whispered.

Buffy grabbed at him frantically, “you don’t need to protect me Will. I can handle myself. As for Angel, he hasn’t been a threat to either one of us since before our first night at the Blue Whale Inn. Promise me, Will,” she pleaded, “promise me you’ll not go after Angel, not ever. He’s no threat to us, I promise you that. If you love me, like you say you do, you’ll call off Charles Gunn and whoever else you’re paying to follow him or hurt him!” Will turned back around to face her and placed his hands on either side of her face, gently this time, “I promise, Princess. I’ll call off the dogs on Angel, I’ll let it go. As long as he stays away from you and Sunnydale, I know he’s no threat to you or us.” She read his eyes, the mirrors to the soul and found the truth there. “Okay,” she sighed and allowed him to pull her into his needy embrace.


Will picked her up in his strong arms and carried her to their bedroom, tenderly laying her on the bed. He lay down beside her and wrapped his arms about her, gently spooning her into his own body. “I love you so much, Buffy,” he whispered in her ear as he stroked her little body tenderly. “Can’t bear to lose you, you know that. I know I’m a rude, bad man sometimes, but know that I love you more then anything in the world and only want what’s best for you. Do you believe me, Princess?” He gazed soulfully into her tear stained eyes and looked for the answers he so desperately needed. “Yes,” she murmered softly, touching his cheek with her warm little hand, “I believe you Will, about everything.”



A/N: I actually wrote two chapters in this, then rewrote the first one and am keeping the second for later. Please review this story, writers love reviews, even ones that are honestly done to help improve the fic.

Oh, another question. Actually, my forte seems to be ‘period pieces’ and I wondered if anyone on the Spuffy Realm site would be interested in fics like these. I have two complete ones and one going now. They did ‘so/so’ on another site and I realize that a lot of readers don’t care for period pieces in general. Please let me know if I should submit a fiction titled: ‘Rebel Hearts’ here? Thank you so much.
Thanks,
Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 12: ‘Realizations!’


A/N: Metaphors abound in this chapter, which, by the way, I hesitated to submit so soon after the last one, but I just had to for a lot of reasons. Thanks, Luv, Spuf


Buffy woke up around 2:00 AM the next morning, feeling much like someone who had drank way too much alcohol the night before. To put it politely, her ass felt kicked and she was hungover, but not from any kind of wine or other booze. Will was sound asleep beside her and she was grateful for that, he’d begged her forgiveness so many times the night before, that she had grown weary of it. Actually, his forceful attempts at ‘making things better’ had begun to wear very thin with her and she was relieved that he was ‘dead to the world’ at the moment. Frankly, Buffy was over wrought, over stressed and over sated, sexually, thanks to her lover. By 3:45 AM, Buffy realized she was not going back to sleep, so she slipped out of their bed, pulling on her blue silk robe, not waking Will and wondered into her ‘studio.’

The half finished portrait of William Giles stared at her, somehow mocking her to ‘finish’ it. Buffy picked up her ‘palette’ of paint colors and began to work on the painting, starting with Will’s face. She quickly shadowed the area under his beautiful blue eyes, with a charcoal gray shade. His mouth, where the lips had once been an even plane were now shaped into a triumphant smirk, much like Spike’s. She began an outline of the dark tower of a castle behind William, something she’d have to finish later, but wanted to get started on right now. Then, before she set the palette down, she stared at Will’s chest, his black armour gleamed in contrast to his platnium hair. That was when she remembered something poor Drusilla had rambled on about a few weeks before in England.


Flashback Buffy’s POV


Buffy lay in the big, plush bed of the Blue Whale Inn, staring at the ceiling. She had succeeded in convincing William that she was not interested in sleeping with him, in fact, she seemed to have convinced him that she was sound asleep in the Suite’s bedroom, but she wasn’t. Unfortunately, she was wide awake at that moment and wondering if Will was up and about also. The shower in the bathroom had alerted her to the fact that he was more then up, then, even listening in at her door when he was finished bathing. There was a moment, briefly, when she thought he might just open the bedroom door and join her in the big bed, but he didn’t. He just sighed, she heard it, and went back into the living room quarters of the Suite. “Wonder if he’s still awake,” she asked herself, “wonder if I want him to be?” Therein laid the problem, in a nutshell, Buffy ‘wanted’ William Giles, truly, but she was more then afraid of what that meant in the long run. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, Buffy got up from the bed, pulled her little black slip over her naked body and slipped out into the front living area. “Just to talk to him,” she assured herself, “really.”

Padding softly out into the living room area, Buffy saw William half laying, half sitting up on the couch, his lower part covered with some makeshift bed clothes he must have found. Although he gave the appearance of someone asleep, his eyes were half opened and Buffy felt confident enough to try and speak to him. “Will?” she whispered into the half light that surrounded him, “can we talk?” He looked over at her, a half smile on his handsome face, “sure, Princess,” he responded as he sat up even more, careful to keep his bottom half covered, decently. Buffy shuffled over to the couch and sat down next to him, careful not to let their bodies touch in any way. “I think we need to really have a good talk, Will,” she mumbled, too shy to really look him in the face. “Too right,” he agreed, “we definitely need to talk, luv.”

She sat on the plush couch, actually, she sat on the blanket that Will had put over the couch and stared at the coffee table before them. “Do you want me?” she asked suddenly, embarrassed by her own frankness. “Course I do,” he stated matter-of-factly, “but only on your terms Buffy.” “I have to tell you, though, luv, you’re pushing the envelope sitting so close to me in that stunning little slip of yours,” he chuckled. Buffy blushed red hot and then finally looked over at him; he was staring right at her, his expression an open book. “I want you too know,” she began quietly, “I want you to know that there’s a lot of stuff up here in my mind.” She pointed to her head and gave him a timid smile. “And I’d appreciate it if you would just sit and listen, hear me out and not say anything until I’m done with what I have to say. Can you do that?” ‘Yes’ he nodded solemly, taking one of her hands in his.

“First off,” she began tentively, “I want you to know that I find you extremely attractive, sexually, physically, mentally, everything.” She could just see the hope in his eyes when she’d finished, so she put her hand up to stop him from saying anything. “But,” she continued firmly, “I’m more then afraid that if I ‘give in’ to you, or act on our feelings that you’ll think I’m easy or something.” Will chuckled, despite himself, “you’re anything but easy, Princess,” he sighed, breaking his earlier promise not to say anything. Buffy shot him a warning look, but continued, “second, I’m a little ‘unsure’ of myself right now. After what Angel said to me, accused me of, it’s hard to feel really sexually attractive to anyone right now.” Buffy watched Will’s jaw clench tightly at the mention of Angel’s name and realized she probably shouldn’t have brought him into the mix. The problem was, he was in the mix, all of his hateful/hurtful words had taken a toll on her and she wasn’t feeling exactly desirable at the moment.

“I just don’t feel very ‘sexy’ anymore and I think if we did, you know, sleep together, that you might feel cheated or dissapointed.” She finished on a sad little note, her voice barely a strangled whisper, her eyes averted from his. Suddenly, he clasped her firmly and pulled her onto his lap, holding her onto him. “Does this feel like you’re not sexy or desirable?” he rasped, pulling her wiggling bottom onto his lap where she could feel his very hard cock, even through the blankets. Straddling William, surprisingly, Buffy stared in wide-eyed shock at him, “well no!” she gasped, finally. Will didn’t waste a moment, he slammed his lips down onto hers in a crushing kiss that literally took both of their breaths away. “I…..” she stammered, “I don’t know, Will, it’s kind of soon and…..”

“We don’t have to make love,” he purred, continuing his assault on her lips and neck, in that order, “just let me sleep in the same bed as you. I swear to God, Buffy, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” Buffy believed him, with all of her heart and soul, she believed he’d only do what she wanted him to. Nodding her head, she let him pick her up, from his sitting position and carry her into the bedroom. Before he lay her on the bed, he stood her up in front of him and pulled the little slip off of her, slowly, gently. “God,” he gasped, “you’re beautiful!” Buffy blushed profusely, remembering that all she wore underneath the slip was her thong, she’d removed the strapless bra before she went to bed. “I,” she began shyly, but he shushed her, “let’s just lay down together,” he murmered, leaning her back against the bed. “It’s okay, luv, like I said, won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“Buffy, can I tell you something?” William whispered to her; he was laying spooned up against her, wearing nothing but his boxers. To say that Buffy was ‘aware’ of Will’s closeness to her would have to be an undertatement. She was ‘very aware’ of his closeness, so much so that she had wriggled away from him several times. However, somehow his body kept creeping up on hers and right now if he was any closer to her, they’d be having sex, whether they meant to or not. “Okay,” she whispered in response, her back cuddled up next to his front. “I want you to know,” he began carefully, “that I could never think of you as easy or a pushover or any term that describes those things. I think of you as a warm, lovely young woman who has so much to offer the right man, but only if that man has the right stuff to offer you. As far as your fears about being sexy enough, or desirable in bed, I think you should realize that you don’t have the problem. It’s your ex, Angel, that has the problem. Some men, I’m sorry to say, feel so unsure or insecure within themselves that they have to try and knock womens’ self esteem down to cover their own insecurities or weaknesses. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you don’t have an issue, it’s your ex that has the issue. Please give that some thought and try not to kick yourself in the arse over the deficiencies in other people.”

“Okay, Will” she whispered contented, snuggling deeper into his body with her own. She felt his long fingers skim down her bare arms and it sent shivers through her whole body. “Do you mind if I touch you like this,” he murmered in her ear, tickling it in the process. Buffy could barely shake her head in answer, much less verbalize her okay to him. He continued to stroke her arms and the side of her body, careful not to go anywhere near her breasts or front side. Finally, after about five minutes of this and the silent tension that had built up, she turned herself over to face Will, effectively positioning his hands right on her breasts. “Uhm, you better be careful, sweetheart,” he mumbled, actually blushing and looking delighted at the same time, “I have a lot of control, but I am only a man after all.” Buffy wrapped her arms around his chest, which reminded her of a sculpture in her art books, “I’m counting on that, the man part anyway,” she purred, nuzzling his cheek with her lips.


Present Day


Spike woke up in bed, alone. An immediate sense of panic rose from his chest and up into his throat causing him to bolt up from the bed, “Buffy!” he called, a little too loudly. He listened for the shower in the bathroom, when he didn’t hear the water running, he leapt from the bed and nearly ran into the front room, glancing around frantically for her. “I’m in here, Will,” she called softly, just loud enough for him to hear her. “Jesus,” Spike sighed to himself, relieved that Buffy was painting in her little studio and not gone out somewhere. “It’s so early for you, Princess,” he said as he entered the extra bedroom and slipped up behind her. Wrapping his arms about her waist, he kissed her on the back of her head, breathing in the vanilla scent of her shampoo. “Trying to finish it?” he asked her, unecessarily, just wanting to talk with her, about anything at this point. She just shrugged and continued painting, causing Spike to flinch in hurt, “she’s still pissed about last night,” he reasoned to himself, “I’m gonna have to really make this one up to her.”

Buffy was putting the finishing touches on some kind of symbol, a crest or something, right in the middle of the his black armour. Right on the chest of the William in the portrait, that is. It was green and red, looked like some kind of an animal? ‘I hate that damned black armour,’ he mused with a pout to himself, ‘makes me look evil or something. Wish she’d repaint it silver, at least.’ They stood together, silently for a few minutes while she finished up the crest on the armour, finally she sighed, “done with that part, anyway,” and began to clean her brushes. “What is that crest, Buffy?” he asked, perplexed by the creature in the middle, squinting to see her finished product. “It’s the sign of ‘Dragul’ Will,” she said softly, busy with her cleaning, not even giving him a glance. “Dragul?” Spike mumbled, “The Dragon? That’s well, rather interesting,” he smiled at her, still confused as bloody hell. “Thanks,” she said answered simply with a sad little smile on her pretty face. Saying nothing more, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving him behind at the easel.

They ate breakfast in total silence, she concentrated solely on her food while Will just picked at his. Most of the time, he sat and watched her, a puzzled look on his face. Actually, the whole thing was beginning to unnerve Buffy, causing her to sigh and clear her plate from the little kitchen table, her food only half finished. Finally she asked him, “are you going to the office today?” She didn’t bother to turn around and face him, she just continued cleaning her plate in the sink. “Yeah,” he answered, indifferently. “What are you going to do today?” he asked. “I don’t know,” she sighed, “being Friday, I don’t have classes at all today, so I guess I’ll just hang out here.” Will stood up and placed his dishes in the sink then took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered huskily, “I’m such a bloody fool where you’re concerned and that whole mess yesterday, well it just brought my stupidity full front. Please, forgive me, Buffy, please.”

Will looked so darn cute right then, contrite and so very sorry, like a little boy who’d just broken his Mother’s favorite vase or something. “I told you, last night, several times Will that I forgive you. Can we just please drop it now and go on from here. I understand that you were worried, it’s over, done with. Let’s just let it go, okay?” Buffy looked deeply into those gorgeous blue eyes of his and felt her heart skip at least three beats, and she hugged him tightly. ‘I’m doomed,’ she thought with a sinking feeling her her tummy, ‘I’m as tied to him as he is to me.’ “Okay, Princess,” Will whispered into her ear, “I’ll never talk of it again, promise.” He pulled her chin up to face him, “hey,” he smiled at her, “I’ve got this brilliant idea, baby. Why don’t I go work my arse off at the office today, you go and buy out the Sunnydale Mall. We’ll go out if you want, for dinner tonight, drink, eat and be merry and all that. What do you say, Buffy sweetheart?” She smiled at him, “I say okay, Will, darling.”

Spike sat in his office that afternoon, thinking back to the events earlier in the day. His computer was turned off, he’d ordered Mrs. Kruger not to put any calls through to him. He just sat at his desk, chain smoking and staring at the blank computer screen, thinking about Buffy and him. “I’ve got to do something,” he grumbled, “I’m losing her, I know it and I can’t have that. I can’t live without her.” He could feel the beginnings of panic rise up in him and he forced himself to push the fear back down. “Don’t need to go ballistic again,” he told himself, “I can fix this. I can get Buffy to marry me somehow, I just have to set the right scenario up.” Without hesitation, Spike reached into his right top drawer of the desk and pulled out the Tiffanis’ box that he’d kept in there for over two years now. Opening it, he looked again at the ring he’d bought the first time he’d asked Buffy to marry him. His Buffy had admired the cut of this ring once, back then and Spike had commissioned Tiffanis to make a close replica of it. Unfortunately, his bride-to-be was unwilling to accept the ring at the time, so Spike put it here, in his desk and had waited all this time to offer it to her again.

Suddenly, a thought came to Spike and he speed dialed Xander, at The Chateau, on his cell phone. “Xander,” he greeted his friend excitedly, even before the poor guy could get out a hello, “I need your help. I want to take Buffy to The Chateau, tomorrow night, for a very special dinner and I want everything to be just perfect. Best table, best wine, no, make that champagne and the make sure the head chef makes chocolate mousse for desert, Buffy loves it, you know.” Xander listened to Spike ramble on, then finally interrupted, “I’m thinking, friend,” he chuckled, “that you’re going to pop the question, again, right?” Spike laughed happily, “right, mate and this time I know she’ll say yes!”

Buffy returned to the apartment, around 3:00 PM, her heart heavy, just like the packages she carried. She had pretty much done what Will had suggested, bought out the Sunnydale Mall and usually, that would have made her very happy. However, it hadn’t done the trick today, not even her new leather jacket was going to ‘make this all better.’ With a sigh, she dropped her purchases on the bed and checked the answering machine for any messages. The green light blinked at her, alerting her to at least one message for her. Punching the little listen button, she immediately heard her OB/GYN’s, Dr. Denisof’s professional voice on the machine. “Buffy Summers, it’s Dr. Denisof,” his tone sounded ‘odd’ to her today. “I would like you to call my office immediately when you get this message, it’s very important. I would like to talk to you personnally, but at least call me, again, immediately.”

Following Dr.’s orders, Buffy immediately returned his call, asking his receptionist if she could talk directly to Dr. Denisof. “Of course, he’s expecting your call,” came the efficient girl’s response. “Buffy?” the good Doctor’s concerned tone alarmed her, “I really need to discuss something with you, it’s very important. Can you come to my office, now?” By this point, Buffy was terrified of what this whole thing meant, “can you tell me over the phone, Dr. Denisof?” she whispered, trying not to show the panic in her voice. He hesitated, then finally agreed to discuss the ‘problem’ over the line with her. “First off Buffy,” he began carefully, “I want you do know, you’re not sick or anything, far from it, so please don’t be worried about that.” She sighed, taking a deep breath of relief, “then what is it?” Again the Doctor was momentarily silent, “it’s about your old perscription, the one we replaced with stronger birth control pills.”

Now Buffy was just plain confused, she’d flushed almost all of the old perscription down the toilet, like he’d told her to. All that she kept out was the one package that she’d given Dr. Denisof to have analyzed, at the lab, just as he had requested. He had wanted to find out why the pills were giving her those strange side affects. “I thought you had that one packaged analyzed, Dr.,” she stammered, “did you find something wrong with the pills?” A strange shiver went down Buffy’s back, the very moment that the Dr. answered her. “Buffy, those pills you gave me, the lab tested them, I just got the results back. I don’t know how to tell you this, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how this happened, but…..” She tensed up, her head was beginning to ache and her tummy felt really weird. “Buffy, they were placebos,” Dr. Denisof sounded as stunned as she did. “Placebos?” she asked weakly not sure of what that meant.

“Well, basically sugar pills, nothing, they do nothing. I can’t imagine how those got perscribed to you, some mistake in the drug company’s facility? I’m just so puzzled and frankly terribly embarrassed over it,” his voice relayed his turmoil. “It’s okay, Dr.,” she answered evenly, covering the urge to throw up right there, “I understand these things happen sometimes, it’s just fortunate that we caught it in time. Thank you.” She hung up the phone, mechanically, strode into the bathroom and proceeded to throw up violently for the next thirty minutes.


A/N: Well, it seems that Spike’s stupidity just caught up with him. I know the whole ‘analyzed the pills’ thing was really a stretch, but I had to have a way for Buffy to find out what had happened! Forgive me?
Thanks for reading and please review. Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 13: ‘We’ve Got All Night’


Buffy sat out on the balcony of ‘their’ apartment, staring out at the horizon and waiting for Will to get home. After she had been so sick, just two hours before, she’d bathed and pulled herself together. When she had calmed down enough, she called Tara McClay and talked to her about the ‘position’ at an Art Gallery, something they’d discussed a few times before. Then she called her Mother in LA; when Joyce Summers had answered the phone, Buffy couldn’t help it, she broke down sobbing and told her Mama everything. That had been less then an hour ago and now Buffy was just exhausted, emotionally. Apparently, Will had done something so deceitful, so vile that Buffy couldn’t even comprehend the reasons why he’d betray her like that.

She heard him enter their apartment and resisted the urge to just go in and confront him, face to face, with the information she now had. But, there was a problem with that; William, or should she say, Spike, had the ability to turn everything around and make it seem like his motives were perfectly acceptable, no matter how awful they might be. Buffy would have to bide her time, at least for tonight, and suss everything out by morning. In fact, she was sure, that by morning things would be better, at least maybe easier for what she had to do. “Buffy,” came her dear lover’s voice, so tender and so deceptive. Will’s voice dripped with love and loyalty, Spike’s was filled with obsession and deceit. ‘How could I have not done something about this ages ago?’ she asked herself sadly.

Spike looked around the apartment and spotted Buffy on the balcony, her back turned towards him. “Buffy?” he called to her again, an odd feeling started in the pit of his stomach. “Hello, Will,” she greeted, never turning to face him, just continued staring out at the view. He noticed she wore the little red robe he loved so much, which was just great, but not condusive to dinner out. “Thought we were going out, Princess,” he said, confused and joining her on the balcony. “I’m tired,” she stated simply, “I thought maybe we could order a pizza, stay in and watch some old movies or something. That okay with you?” Of course that was okay with Spike, he loved being alone with Buffy, just the two of them. “Sure,” he leaned down to kiss her cheek tenderly, “I’m going to take a shower, check the mail. He tried to ignore the coldness in her demeanor. “You order what you want and I’ll be out to join you in a few minutes. Oh, by the way, don’t plan anything for tomorrow, we’re going to The Chateau for dinner.” She just nodded at him and continued to stare over the railing.


Flashback Spike’s POV


“I’m counting on it, I mean about the man part,” she’d said, just now to Spike. ‘Well,’ he thought happily, ‘I guess this is a sure sign that there’ll be more then just sleeping going on in here tonight!’ Before she could say another word, he leaned in and kissed her, gently forcing her lips open with his tongue. Her long, slim arms were wrapped around his chest and he pulled her closer to him, pressing their chests together, relishing the warmth of her naked breasts against him. Spike stopped kissing her long enough to ask her, “you sure about this, Princess?” Buffy just smiled, shyly and nodded her golden head. Leaving her mouth, momentarily, he ran his own mouth down her neck and shoulders, careful to just skim her flesh with his lips. “Mmmm,” she purred, causing his already stiff erection to harden even more. He watched her as he suckled her left breast, her green eyes were more then half closed in pleasure and he swore he’d never seen a more beautiful expression.

“I need to taste you,” he rasped, clocking her reaction to his suggestion. She tensed up a bit, but soon relaxed in his arms again. “Okay, Will,” she whispered hoarsely, “but before this goes any further, I need to ask you something.” He nodded up at her and went back to the pleasant task of suckling her right breast this time. “I use something,” she stammered, her whole body warm from embarrassment, “but I’m hoping you have, you know, man protection with you?"” Spike couldn't help it, he burst out laughing at her choice of words to describe rubbers. Buffy suddenly flinched under him and gave a little pout, “are you laughing at me?” Trying to rein in his laughter, Spike just shook his head, “no, baby, not laughing at you. With you, you’re adorable, you know that?” Her body seemed to relax a bit, but she still wore that wonderful pouty expression he had loved from day one. “I take it that you don’t have those things?” she asked, eyeing him warily. “No,” he chuckled, “but, thanks to the fact that I’m naturally nosy, I discovered that this delightful Inn provides ‘man protection.” She scrunched up her mouth in disbelief, “no way,” she hissed. “Way,” he grinned, “in the medicine cabinet. Found them when I went to take a shower. Apparently, The Blue Whale Inn believes in true service for the American public.” Buffy burst out into laughter, a delightful sound to Spike, “now,” he murmered, placing a kiss on her funny little nose, “you wait right here and I’ll be back in a sec.” With that, he rolled off the bed and hurried into the bathroom to retrieve that ‘man protection,’ delighting in her laughter that followed him like music.

Once he returned, as bloody fast as he could, surely, he dropped the condom box on the end table and slipped back into bed with Buffy. “Now, Princess,” he grinned, snuggling close to her, “just where were we?” Buffy stopped laughing and looked at him with the most serious look he’d seen that night, “uhm, I think you were saying something about ‘tasting’ me?” Her face blushed bright red and Spike couldn’t resist, pulled her flush up against his half naked body and began to nibble on her right ear, “yeah, that’s it,” he whispered, “tasting you is exactly what I had in mind.” Spike began kissing Buffy again, a bit more passionately then before, loving the little purring sounds she made as he ran his lips over hers. Not wanting to wait too long, he ran his lips down her neck, her breasts and then down her tummy to his ultimate goal.

“Will,” Buffy whispered nervously, “I…..” but he shushed her gently, “it’s okay, Princess. I’ll stop if you want me to.” He looked up at her from his vantage point between her thighs, his mouth watering to taste her pretty little cunny. “Don’t stop,” she murmered, never taking her eyes from his. That’s all he needed to hear and he began to greedily lick and nibble every part of her hot, wet center that he could. “God, you’re delicious,” he groaned against her heat, smiling when she gasped, ‘so, my Princess likes ‘talk’ during sex!’ He was so damned pleased he could barely contain himself. Pausing from his ministrations, briefly, he gazed up at her, “watch me, please,” he pleaded with her. She rewarded him by raising herself up on her elbows and gazing at him, her lids half closed, “more,” she commanded softly. “Anything you want,” he moaned and went back to his enjoyable activity. Before long, he felt her tremble against his mouth and realized she was really close to her orgasm, so he inserted two fingers in her heat, still licking her lucious clit, hungrily. “Cum for me,” he ordered huskily, “cum for me, Buffy, please. I ‘need’ you to come for me, so much, so please, just do it, baby!”

He practically came himself when she cried his name in her release, but instead, he wasted no time in crawling up her body to crush his lips on hers. Without missing a beat, he reached for the end table and the condoms, tearing open the box and ripping open the little foil package. Buffy wriggled beneath him, her tiny little body just begged for him to take her and if he didn’t soon, he felt like he might combust from her heat. Fumbling with the slippery condom, Spike found himself almost bashful about what was about to happen between them, so he hesitated for just a moment, looking soulfully into her green eyes. “I’ll ask again,” he murmered, stroking her cheek with his one free hand, “are you sure?” Buffy broke into the most dazzling smile and nuzzled her forehead into his, “yes, Will, I’m very sure.”

“Be gentle,” he kept telling himself, even as he thrust slowly into her, “be tender. She’s been so bloody hurt before.” Spike began a slow rhythm, pulling out, slowly, then back in, all the while kissing her plump, pink lips, and worshiping her little body, “is this okay?” he rasped, trying to keep from pummeling her with his own body. “God, yes,” she moaned back, confirming her pleasure by wrapping her legs around his slim hips and pulling him into her, forcefully. Meanwhile, her fingers ran up and down his back, mesmerizing him and sending extra chills up and down his spine. “Buffy, I don’t think I’m going to last too long, I’m sorry. You just feel so bloody amazing,” he mumbled, embarrassed by his sudden lack of control. But she did feel amazing, so much so that he just wanted to stay buried in her sweet heat forever. ‘I’ll never let you go now, Buffy Summers’ he swore to himself. “It’s okay, Will,” she purred into his ear before giving it a long, wet lick, “we’ve got all night.”


Present Day


They ended up eating mushroom and cheese pizza, from their favorite Pizzeria down the street. Buffy made sure to order Will’s beloved hot wings and even shared a beer with him, instead of her favorite wine. Snuggled together on the couch, watching ‘Casablanca,’ again, Buffy couldn’t help but feel a little bit like Ingrid Bergman in the movie, torn and miserable. Halfway through the picture, she burst out in tears and didn’t stop the on again/off again waterworks, as Will called them, for the rest of the film. When ‘Ilsa’ told ‘Rick’ goodbye at the little airport, she began to sob uncontrollably, burying her head into Will’s shoulder. “Baby,” he chuckled, “you’ve seen this bloody picture a hundred times, you know she leaves in the end. Why do you cry every time?” He wrapped his arms tightly about her and nuzzled her neck with his lovely lips, “don’t worry, Princess,” he murmered lovingly, “I bet in the end, they find each other again, promise.” ‘I love those lips,’ she thought sadly, running her fingers across them, her heart nearly breaking in two. ‘Gotta’ be strong Summers,’ she commanded herself, ‘you have to do this. Just like Ilsa, for the greater good.”

The credits began to roll and Buffy found herself straddled across Will’s lap, her head now buried in his bare chest. “Buffy, honey, you’re beginning to scare me now,” he laughed nervously, “it’s a silly movie, don’t be so upset, please.” She flung her arms about his neck, possessively, still sobbing and kissing his face anywhere she could. “Make love to me, Will!” she cried desperately, “please make love to me, right now! Like the world is ending tomorrow and we know it, and all we have is tonight together. Please!” Will clung to her tightly and stood up, taking her with him. “Anything you want, baby,” he whispered, huskily as he carried her into their bedroom.

They made love most of the night, well into the morning. Everytime that Spike thought that they’d worn each other out, Buffy would do some little ‘Buffy’ thing and they’d be at it again, desperately clutching at each other, devouring each other. “I love you!” he roared every time he thrust into her, whether she was on top or he was. “I love you,” she cried out during the night as they wrapped their bodies around one another, becoming more one together then two separate beings. Finally, after hours of their love making, they fell asleep in each others’ arms; Spike never felt more complete.

He woke up the next morning, actually a little sore in some of his private places. Propping himself up on his left elbow, he watched Buffy sleep for a few minutes, then carefully rose from the bed, shutting the bathroom door behind and turning on the shower. Thirty minutes later, he was out on the balcony of their apartment, smoking a cigarette and reading the Wall Street Journal, his second cup of coffee cooling on the table before him. Wearing his usual at home attire, black jeans and a black tee shirt, he’d neglected to comb his hair and even now it dried into the abhored curls and spikes about his head. ‘Gotta’ watch Casablanca more often,’ he mused to himself with a chuckle as he remembered the aftermath of the movie with Buffy last night.

Buffy woke up, afraid to face the morning for the first time in years. She glanced around the bedroom, even though she knew just where Will would be right now, on the balcony, reading, smoking and thinking, like always at this time of day. Sadly, she dragged herself out of their bed, gazing at it longlingly for just a minute then headed into the bathroom to shower. For some reason, she took much longer in the bath this morning, no that wasn’t true, she knew why she was doing it, prolonging the inevitable, that’s all.

After she’d finished showering, dried and dressed in the little sundress Will had picked out for her, she went about doing the thing she’d dreaded since yesterday afternoon when she’d found out about Will’s horrible plan to fool her with those damn pills. Pulling on her strappy red sandals, she brushed out her hair, going through her regular motions, although this was no regular day, anything but. A dab of light blush on her cheeks, some pink lip gloss and mascara and she was all ready to go face the music; problem was, this tune was the death march as far as she was concerned.

Buffy found Will out on the balcony, just like she thought she would, smoking and reading the Wall Street Journal. He looked up and gave her his ‘William smile’ the one that made her heart skip a beat. “Morning, Princess,” he greeted warmly. She felt her tummy jump when she saw his hair curling about his face, the part that wasn’t spikey anyway. ‘Oh, God,’ she pleaded to Heaven, ‘keep me strong to do this. I love him, I love him but…..’ “Will,” she reached out to him, “please come inside, we need to talk now.” William tossed the paper on the table and stubbed out his cigarette, quickly, “what’s up, baby?” he asked, a brief hint of concern in his beautiful blue eyes. “Please come sit down,” she whispered, leading him by his hand to the couch and waiting for him to sit. When he did, she sat down beside him and placed her right hand over his left one. “Will,” she began, unsure of herself, but determined to do this right. She couldn’t even look at him, just stared at Mr. Gordo who had picked that very moment to come and sit as sentinal at her feet. “Will,” she stammered again, squeezing her eyes shut, even as she squeezed the long fingers of his left hand more tightly in hers, “I think we should seperate for a while.”


A/N: Okay, this is the angst I was talking about. I could not bring myself to write anymore this chapter, although I wanted to, really. Just think what William/Spike’s reaction is going to be to this! Thanks for reading, please review. Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 14: ‘Leaving’


A/N: A bit of a ‘warning’ here for all Spike lovers: Frankly, he acts like a real ass here, so please don’t be mad at me. There’s a reference to unconsensual sex, nothing too very graphic, but might be offensive to some. Much ‘adult language’ please remember that I love Spike, too, it’s just that I must submit this chapter to keep things going in the fiction. Thank you, Luv, S

Spike felt like he had been hit by a mack truck, then, just for good measure, somebody else had come along, while he was still down and kicked him twenty times in the gut. His old mate, panic, hit him like a tidal wave, sending his emotions reeling from fear, to anger, to rage in less then a nano second. “What the FUCK do you mean, you think we should seperate!” he roared at the top of his lungs, grabbing Buffy around the shoulders and pulling her onto his lap, forcefully. For the third time in less then a week, he felt like shaking his beloved Buffy violently, but again, he was able to force the urge back down. “Will….” She trembled in his arms, her green eyes expressed just how terrified she was of this side of him. “Will, I just think that we need a break from each other,” she was finally able to choke the words out, despite the tears that now flowed down her cheeks.

Before she could say any more, Spike stood up with her still in his arms and blindly stumbled into their bedroom, slamming the door behind him. A medium sized Armani suitcase, Buffy’s suitcase, was the first thing that caught his eye. The sight of her bag, packed neatly, no doubt, set next to the foot of their bed enraged him even more. He literally tossed her on the bed and then pinned her little body down with his own stronger one. When she looked away from him, he quickly pulled her face, roughly, back to meet his own, his blue eyes bore into her green ones, like lazers. “What the fuck are you playing at, Princess?” he growled, low and deep in his throat, tightening his hands on her, putting more pressure on her lower body with his own.

Buffy felt her whole body tremble, but certainly not in desire this time; this was primal fear. She ‘knew’ that William would never hit her, or hurt her physically, but right now his behavior was bordering on the out of control level. ‘I should have known,’ she derided herself, ‘should have realized he’d never just accept this.’ “I, I just think we need to be apart for a little while, Will,” she stuttered, feeling her sense of panic begin to overwhelm her. “Well,” he responded gruffly Spike’s evil smirk on his lips, “there’s the proble; you trying to think.” Buffy stared at him, momentarily stunned into silence, this wasn’t like Will, he never said awful things like this to her. “Get off of me,” she commanded, rather calmly now, she thought proudly, even pushing him as hard as she could. “Not gonna happen,” he growled back, forcing her back down on the bed. “Where the bloody hell do you get off, suddenly comin’ in and telling me we should split? What did you think, Buffy, I was just gonna’ go “sure Princess, I’ll even help you pack. Although I see you’ve already done that,” he growled, looking back, angrily, at the suitcase behind them on the floor.

“I mean, you’re a bright girl, Princess, did you really think that I was going to allow you to walk out of here, out of my life!” His voice had gone up three levels in loudness and Buffy flinched in fear again. “Will,” she whispered, trying to set the pace again, “the neighbors,” she began. “Can go to fuckin’ Hell for all I care. They can’t hear anything anyway, baby, remember I’ve got this whole place soundproofed.” This was true, Buffy remembered, Will liked his music, loud, and had the walls soundproofed right away.

Spike was past seeing red at this point, he was seeing a searing white light that seemed to block out any train of thought, except one; ‘she’s leaving me.’ He looked down at her, his Princess, pinned underneath him like she was some kind of helpless prey, her eyes wide and gleaming with tears. The look on her face, a mix of fear, pain and maybe even hatred, ripped his heart; no, it felt like she’d run a dagger through it. “Why?” he rasped, feeling the tears that threatened to spill from his own eyes, searching her open green eyes for the truth. His voice was riddled with pain and desperation, he felt like a complete ponce and hated himself for it. Weakness was not in the Giles men’s nature, normally Spike was no exception. Buffy was and would always be his only weakness, that was the problem and right now, he was more afraid of losing her then even dying. “Can’t live like this anymore, Will,” she whispered, “can’t live with you anymore.”

Instead of taking this as any kind of a sensible explaination, Spike took it as a direct challenge to battle. He was past angry, he was livid by this time, embarrassed by the tears, pissed that apparently, they weren’t going to work so easily on Buffy this time. Fueled by confusion, anger and fear, he felt pushed to release his warrior nature out at her, full force. “Can’t live like what!” he screamed at her, just inches from her pale face. “Like fuckin’ royalty! Bloody fuckin’ hell you little spoiled brat, who else would give you what I have? Who else could love you like me, Angel?

Maybe if I snorted coke, treated you like shit and knocked you around once or twice you’d find it ‘cute’ and love me too!” He resisted the urge to shake her, but couldn’t keep from gripping her little chin, forcing her to keep their eyes locked together. “I do love you,” she sobbed, her voice barely a hoarse whisper, “but I hate what you do and what you did. I know about the pills, Will, everything.”

That stopped him cold. He reared back from her, loosening his grip on her and freeing her from his body’s hold. Buffy took advantage of his shocked state to push him off of her, landing him on his back on the floor beside the bed. She rolled off the opposite side, and ran for the bedroom door, grabbing her suitcase on the way. ‘I’ll call a cab on my cell phone,’ she told herself, glancing around the front room for her purse. The front door and freedom were just a few feet away and Buffy was in a full trot to get to them. Just as she touched the golden door knob, Will reached her from behind and flung his long, strong arms around her waist. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled dangerously, spinning her around, causing her to drop her purse and suitcase. “Let me go!” she screamed, struggling against his muscled body, even as he picked her up from underneath her bottom and forced her legs around his own waist. “Never!” he roared in response.

Somehow, Buffy found herself back on their bed, watching in horror as Will locked the bedroom door behind them. “You are not leaving me,” he stated through clenched teeth. He stalked over to the bed and climbed up over her, resting each one of his knees on either side of her prone body. “You can’t keep me hostage, William,” she hissed, “I can leave any time I feel like it and you can’t stop me!” A smug smile slowly came over his mouth, “wanna’ bloody bet,” he snarled back, lowering his body, almost tenderly, onto hers. “Yeah, I’ll take that bet!” she screamed, defiantly, pushing his chest away from her. ‘If he thinks he’s going to kiss me right now, he’s sadly mistaken,’ she told herself, wisely not vocalizing this thought.

He realized, of course, that his Buffy was not going down easy, not this time. All the tears and sobbing she had produced before had turned into spit fire and defiance on her part. This was his girl in full on battle mode and while he hated to fight and argue with her, at the same time, he found it to be a very arrousing. Spike pulled her up by the shoulders, roughly and tried to kiss her, only to be pushed away, violently. ‘Christ,’ he mused, ‘when did she get so damn strong?’ “My mother, she expects me in LA, this afternoon, Will,” she spat at him, “what do you think she’ll do when I don’t show?” With a smirk, Spike shrugged, “don’t give a fuck, sweetheart,” he chuckled wickedly, “she’s in LA, we’re in Sunnydale.

Just who do think holds more sway, here in Sunnydale that is?” He watched her green eyes flicker with uncertainty, ‘That knocked some of the piss out of you, didn’t it Princess,’ he thought smugly. “Besides,” he continued, assured in his strength, “do you think Joyce would really believe you’d ever leave ‘me’?” She stuck her gorgeous little chin out, defiantly, “yeah, I do. Especially after she found out about that little stunt of yours, with the pills I mean.”

Spike thought about that for a minute, “how’d you find out about that?” he asked evenly. “Dr. Denisof called, he had one of the packages analyzed by his lab. And why the hell am I telling ‘you’ this!” He eyed Buffy, carefully, “I thought you told me you flushed the old pills.” It was her turn to shrug. “You deceitful little bitch!” he snarled softly, “you lied to me. You lied and plotted against me, didn’t you?” Buffy looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, completely. “That’s priceless, Spike!” she laughed sardonically, “I’m a deceitful bitch after what you pulled!” The ‘Spike’ thing wasn’t lost on him, but he chose to keep his mouth shut, for once, and let her finish. “By the way, Spikey,” she asked through narrowed emerald green eyes, “who’s bright light idea was that one, the pills I mean, anyway? Your’s or Daddy’s? I mean, he must have known, right, you don’t take a piss, usually, without calling him and asking permission, do you?” Spike felt his jaw clench tightly, almost painfully, “leave my old man out of this Buffy,” he hissed, stunned at her choice of words.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” he reasoned out loud, running his long fingers down her cheek, to her neck, coming to rest on her right breast. “We’re going to get past all this bullshit and go on, like always. Eventually, we’ll get married and once you’ve popped out a couple of kids, we’ll forget this ever happened.” Buffy was shocked, he really believed this crap he was spewing, “it does matter and I’m leaving, period,” she hissed back at him, a little less loudly now. William’s whole body tensed, ‘kind of a like a snake just before he strikes,’ she realized, fearfully.

She watched, warily while he pulled his tee-shirt off and tossed it into the corner of the bedroom. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Will?” she gasped, pretty sure of what he had in mind. “I ‘know’ what I’m going to do, Princess, I’m going to fuck some sense back into you, “ he chuckled. “I’ll fuck you, you’ll fuck me back and before long, you’ll stop this bullshit and love me again. Pretty simple, really.” “No,” she stated firmly, “I’m not making love, fucking or shagging, whatever you want to call it. I’m not.” Without warning, Will reached out and ripped the front of her sundress in two, pushing the torn fabric back off of her shoulders. “We’ll just see about that,” he growled, groping for her now exposed breasts.

“Will,” she whimpered, “you tore my dress.” Buffy didn’t know right at that minute if she was angry, sad, hurt or stunned, maybe all of those emotions. She did know that Will, in a moment’s time, had broken her heart in two, again. “No problems,” he smiled evilly, “I’ll buy you another one just like it. Give me one of your marvelous blow jobs, and I’ll buy you ten more just like it!” Will pulled her near naked body up close to him, murmering, his voice deceptively tender, “you know you love it a little rough sometimes, baby, come on, make your man happy.” All of the earlier fight seemed to just rush out of her and she just collapsed back onto the bed, bringing Will right on top of her. Even though she struggled to battle the fresh tears, they fell anyway, making her ashamed of herself for her weakness. When Will sat back up, reaching to remove her thong, Buffy felt a surge of inner power hit her and she didn’t hesitate. She swung back her right arm and flung it up against him, catching him on the left side of his handsome face. Although she was not particularly strong, and certainly wasn’t powerfully built, her open handed blow seemed to have stunned William into complete immobility.

Spike flew back from Buffy’s slap, then watched as she scampered off their bed and ran for the bathroom. He heard the door slam, then lock behind her, leaving him alone and in shock. ‘Bloody hell,’ he thought, rubbing his left cheek, ‘my girl’s got a mean right hook, even if it’s an open handed one!’ From his place on the bed, he could hear her sobbing in the bathroom, that is until she turned on the bathtub faucet and he heard nothing but water running. “Fuck!” he shouted angrily, more at himself by now then her. Getting up from the bed, he looked over at the mirror above the dresser, catching his reflection, “you’ve fucked everything up this time, haven’t you Spike?” He asked his mocking reflection which now looked more like a demon then a man.

Buffy’s little red sandal caught his attention, the strap must have broken during their struggle and the whole shoe apparently slipped off her foot. He picked it up and began to examine the tiny footwear. “God,” he sighed sadly, his voice full of remorse, “my Princess has the tiniest little feet.” Those traitorous tears of before spilled from his eyes. “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered at the door between them.

“Buffy,” Spike was standing at the bathroom door, calmed down and sick at heart for the horror that had taken place earlier. “Please open the door, baby,” he pleaded. No answere. “Princess, open the door, we’ll talk, I’ll make this better. I’ll fix it, I promise.” Finally he heard her beloved voice, “go to hell!” she cried. “Okay, I deserve that,” he responded, trying not to laugh out loud, Buffy was not one to swear much but when she did, it was almost comical. “Just open the door, I won’t come anywhere near you. Just want to talk to you, okay?” He was leaned up against the oaken door, his forehead against the wood. “Open the door,” he demanded this time, a little more firmly then when he’d asked. Again, no answere. “Okay, Buffy, if you don’t open this door by the time I count to five, I’m kicking the fucking thing in!” Spike actually stood there and counted to bloody five, then, kicked the door in with such a force that he fell into the bathroom.

Spike picked himself up from the floor and found Buffy in the tub, immersed in water, up to her chest. When he made a move closer to her, she gasped and covered her breasts with her tiny hands. This hurt him worse then the physical slap she’d hit him with earlier, Buffy had never tried to hide her nakedness from him before. It cut him like a knife. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, no longer ashamed of the visible tears that slipped down his cheeks. Buffy didn’t say anything she just stared at the water around her. “I’m so sorry, Buffy,” he whimpered, taking a step closer to her, trying not to be too intimidating, finally. She looked up at him through tear stained eyes but said nothing. “You have to understand, baby,” he began, “if I lost you, I’d just die. I’m nothing without you, nothing. Please forgive me, please.”


Buffy sat in the now cooling bath water, staring at her lover. Caught between disbelief, sorrow and anger, she just didn’t know what to do anymore. Will was standing there, crying, no less, begging her to forgive him, expecting her to. Here she was, totally at a loss as to how to handle this turn of events. Truthfully, she should have known this whole mess might have occurred, William being who he was, but she’d hoped that things might have turned out differently.

Finally, she sighed and picked up the loofa sponge from the water, “what time are we supposed to be at The Chateau tonight, Will?” She could hear his sigh of relief from across the room and didn’t even flinch when he closed the gap between them and joined her by the tub. “Eight,” he purred, nuzzling her damp neck and trickling water from his hand down her back. “Buffy,” he whispered warmly, “I love you, so much, baby. Can I join you in there?” Buffy didn’t vocally answere him, she just nodded yes.


A/N: Okay, don’t shoot the messenger, I promise this whole angst thing is not over. Not by a long shot.
Thanks for reading, please review if you like. Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY



Chapter 15: ‘Will You?’


A/N: Sorry, this will be just a bit of a ‘teaser’ chapter. I want to thank everyone who is reading this fiction! Thanks, Luv, Spuf.


Spike drove into the heart of Sunnydale, part of the time his eyes were on the road, the other part, they watched Buffy. She hadn’t said a word since they had left the apartment and headed to The Chateau for dinner. Buffy just stared out at the passing scenery, silently, and Spike let her. After the battle of wills that had ocurred earlier at home, he figured that it was a miracle that she was with him now. This night, at the restaurant was to be the happiest night of his life and Spike wanted Buffy to feel that way too, eventually. ‘She’ll accept my ring,’ he tried to convince himself, ‘she bloody has to!’

He pulled the BMW into the parking lot of The Chateau, pulling right up to the valet parking area. “I’ll come round and open your door for you,” he mumbled to Buffy who just nodded her head in response. Getting out of his side of the car, he threw the keys to the young man eagerly waiting to park the car. ‘He knows who I am,’ Spike smiled, pleased, vocally he ordered, good naturedly, “don’t scratch the paint, mate.” Hurrying around to the passenger side of the car, Spike opened the door for Buffy and offerred her his arm, which she took, a bit too slowly for his taste. “Buffy,” he whispered as he walked her through the front door, “please try and have a good time tonight. It’s important to me.” Buffy glanced up and gave him a timid smile, “I’ll try,” she promised weakly.

His Buffy did look smashing. She wore a dress of red silk that fit her like a glove; it was open all the way down to her lower back. The front cut way down to show her cleavage and although the hem hit somewhere around her knees, there was a slit on the side that stretched right up to her right thigh. Her hair was up, loosely caught with a diamond barette, little tendrils of golden hair fell down the sides of her face. “You’re beautiful, Princess,” he sighed, nuzzling her neck as they entered the restaurant, “can’t wait to get home and take your hair down in bed.” “Thank you William,” she whispered, not bothering to meet his eyes. Before they got to the front dest, Spike stopped and pulled Buffy aside, “Baby,” he whispered, clutching her to him possessively, “you know I love you, don’t you?” Buffy ran her tiny hands up over his thighs to his backside, “yes, Will, I know you love me more then life itself. I love you too, I do.” He gasped in pleasure when she reached around and cupped his buttocks, pulling him in closer to her. “Maybe we should turn back and go home?” he chuckled, returning the favour. “No,” Buffy murmered, “let’s go in, eat and drink too much and get toasted. I want to really enjoy tonight, Will. Try and forget what happened this morning, really.” She caught his eyes with her own green ones, they were filled with flirtacious fire and shined like emeralds. “Later,” she murmered huskily, “later, at home, we can really make up for earlier.” Spike stared down at her in shock. Just a few hours before, his lover had sworn to leave him, now she was practically shagging him in a four star restaurant. It was past arrousing, it was intoxicating to him. ‘She’ll say yes,’ he assured himself, ‘she’ll say yes. We’ll get married as soon as possible and I’ll have her, legally, forever.’

“I’ll hold you to that,” he purred in her ear. Buffy could feel his arrousal grind into her; it was intoxicating. Not necessarily because it was sexy, or hot or even a turn on, which it was, naturally. No, it was because at that moment in time, Buffy Summers held all the power, she was the power in this little drama, at least right then. “I’m thinking, darling,” she whispered silkily, “that we need to get to our table and order. Half the staff are looking at us.” It was the truth, everyone within earshot or visibility were watching them, a little too interested in fact. Will laughed and led her into the front of the dining area, only to find Cordelia Harris waitng for them. “Cordy!” Buffy cried, breaking away from Will and throwing herself into her friend’s waiting arms. “What are you doing here?”

Cordy smiled warmly at her good friend, well, maybe a little patronizing, but warmly all the same. “I dropped by tonight to help my husband out,” she explained, “I heard something special was in the works so I just had to come by and be a witness!” Buffy was more then puzzled, but she covered with a quick smile. ‘What the hell is this about?’ she wondered, allowing Cordy to show Will and her to their table. When they’d been seated, Xander rushed up to join his wife and them, making quite a display, falling all over himself to please everyone. “Doesn’t she look great, Buff?” he gushed at his friend. “Always, Xand’” Buffy responded truthfully. “What’s going on here?” Buffy asked finally, glancing around at the three people in front of her. “I’m pregnant!” Cordelia chimed up, “two months and counting!”

Buffy leapt up from her seat and hugged her friend tightly, “oh Cordy,” she cried, “that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you. For you both!” she gushed. “Isn’t that great, Will?” William just smiled at her and nodded. For just an instant, Buffy felt a sense of relief wash over her, at peace with herself and the universe, ‘this was the surprise,’ she assured herself, ‘Cordy and Xander are pregs and we’re here to celebrate.’ Then, she noticed that both Xander and Cordelia were still smiling like a couple of Cheshire cats and Will was staring at her intensely, an odd smile on his face. Her sense of relief and cosmic peace dissapeared instantly and once again she felt just like a lamb being led to the slaughter.


Flashback Buffy’s POV


Buffy woke up, alone, in the big comfy bed of the Montecito Inn, not panicing, of course, she knew full well that William was somewhere nearby. She could damn near ‘sense’ him. When she rose from the bed, she checked the bedroom door for the plush terry robe provided by the Inn and slipped it on to cover her nakedness and went to find Will. Sure enough, he was standing out on the balconly, smoking a cigarette and staring out at the Pacific ocean, wearing only his boxers from the night before. “Will?” she called softly, pleased by the adoring look in his lovely blue eyes as he turned to face her. “Morning, Princess,” he called in greeting, smiling warmly and reaching out his hands to her. That’s when Buffy realized that it was just barely morning, the sun had risen only moments ago and was casting the most beautiful shimmer over the water. “Whatcha’ doing,” she asked, snuggling into his welcoming arms. “Just thinking,” he responded, nuzzling her neck with his lips. “I was just thinking how a bloke could get used to this, waking up with you in his arms everyday, sharing a view like this.”

For a moment, Buffy tensed up, unsure how to react or respond to what Will had just told her. She opted for a nervous laugh and joking response, “well, as flattering as that is, William Giles, we hardly know each other well enough to…..” Will pulled her chin up tenderly so they could look into each others eyes. “I mean this Buffy,” he murmered earnestly, “last night was about more then just sex for me, it was about love making. In my heart I know it meant more then just a tumble in the sheets to you too. It’s a start for us, the beginning of something special and right.” Buffy tried to look away from Will’s honest blue eyes, but couldn’t, “Will,” she whispered, “I….” But he didn’t let her finish. He pulled her flush up into his chest and tightened his arms about her. “Like I said, last night was all about love for me Buffy. I don’t take things like I’m feeling right now lightly and frankly I’ve never felt this way before.”

Buffy fluxuated between feeling frightened, nervous and downright pleased somehow. “But Will, we just met, basically, how can you be sure?” He laughed heartily, “because I’ve been sure since I saw you in the parking lot of The Bronze, standing next to the horrible lime green car of yours. I’ve been real sure since last week when I slung you over my shoulders and took you off to Pismo Beach.” She blushed bright red and wriggled free of his embrace, scurrying back into the suite and away from him. “Don’t run off from me, luv,” he pleaded, following behind her and taking her arm gently. “I’m not saying you ‘have’ to love me back, not just yet, anyway, but just give ‘us’ a chance to build something here. Is that so much to ask?” ‘No,’ she mused to herself, ‘but what if I do fall in love with you? I mean, crazy ass fall over stupid love, the kind that hurts sometimes.’ Instead she just gazed up at him, her green eyes were fill with uncertainty, expressing the unsure turmoil within her.

William led her to the couch, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “Let’s talk about something I’ve been thinking about since I met you, something I think might be a win/win situation for both of us?” Buffy tilted her head to one side, “a win/win situation? Is this a betting game, Will?” she asked softly. “No,” he chuckled, sweeping some strands of golden hair from her face and behind her ear, “it’s not a game of any kind, it’s about how I feel for you. Just listen to me, hear me out and think about what I’m offering you. We don’t have to act on it tonight, certainly, not until ‘you’ want to do it, but I just want you to consider this.”


Present Day


Spike watched Buffy eat her dinner, happy to see her appetite hadn’t been affected by their altercation earlier that day. She had finished her entire dinner and he had insisted she have the chocolate mousse that he’d had made special for her. Buffy was just now licking her spoon clean of her dessert, smiling with contentment and giving him all kinds of naughty little ideas for her tongue, later that is at home. Spike waved the waiter over, “Yes Mr. Giles,” the young man asked eagerly, wanting to please one of the restaurant’s owners. “We want more champagne, mate,” Spike ordered, never taking his eyes off of Buffy, “don’t take too long,” he added tossing the guy a $10.00 bill; kind of a pre-tab tip. The young man, neither Buffy or Spike could remember his name, hurried away and soon came back with more champagne.

After the waiter, who’s name turned out to be Devon had left them alone, Spike scooted closer to Buffy, placing his large hand over her tiny one. "Buffy?” he purred in her ear, “there’s something I need to ask you.” She placed her spoon down next to her half finished bowl of mousse and looked up at him, her luminous green eyes intoxicating him.. “Buffy, Princess,” he stammered suddenly at a loss for words, which was unusual for him to say the least. “Buffy, I, want you to, I mean will you…..” Spike suddenly felt like a school boy again, nervous and unsure of himself. “Buffy, I love you you so much and I’m just going to come out and ask, not dance around here anymore. Will you marry me? Make me the happiest man in the world?” He held out the ring in his left hand to her.

Buffy was dumbstruck. She had just finished a bite of her delicious chocolate mousse, her favorite dessert and Will scooted closer to her, stuttering like a school boy asking for a first date. In his outstretched hand was the ring she had admired from the pages of a magazine and the same one he’d offerred her over two years ago. His handsome face was so hopeful and expectant, so unsure of himself for once that she felt a familiar tug at her heart. Glancing around, she noticed that two other tables of diners were watching them, along with Xander and Cordy. Xander was smiling from ear to ear, much like a proud father would, while Cordy looked as if she was about to wet her pants from excitement (sorry for the terminology!). “Yes,” she murmered, without further hesitation, taking Will’s free hand in hers and kissing it tenderly, “I’ll marry you Will.”

Will flung his arms about Buffy and she swore she heard everyone at the next table begin to clap and cheer. “Oh, baby,” he whispered happily in her ear, “I love you so much, you just made me the happiest man in the world!” Buffy smiled and hugged her now fiance back, looking over at Xander and Cordy, ‘what could I do?’ she asked herself. Here she was, with almost twenty people, at least, watching one of Will’s and her’s most private moments. How could she humiliate him, with all of these people and their two best friends watching in anticipation. “I love you Will,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath, which was quite difficult considering he was squeezing her so tightly. “We’re going to be happy Buffy,” he grinned, wiping at the wetness on his face, looking at her as if she was a God. “I swear to God I’ll make you happier then you ever dreamed.” Buffy smiled at him lovingly, “I know you’ll try, darling,” she cooed, her own tears spilling down her cheeks. He slipped the perfect engagement ring on her perfect sized 6 ring finger then leaned over and kissed her passionately, whispering his love for her. When they broke away from each other, Buffy ran her fingers down his cheek, lovingly, “I do love you, I always will.”


A/N: Okay now……I wrote this chapter,originally, to be much longer, but decided to split it in half. I even tried a part I & II scenario and decided it didn’t work right. Thanks for reading, please review. ‘All my luv’ Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 16: ‘The Only Time He Feels Complete’


When Buffy and Spike reached their apartment, it was nearly midnight. Spike wasted no time in calling his parents in England to tell them the good news while Buffy opted to wait until a decent hour in the PDT morning to call hers. “My mum wants to talk to you, Princess,” he grinned handing her the cordless phone. He left Buffy to talk with his mother, going out on the balcony to smoke a cigarette, ‘wonder why Mum acted so surprised by our news,’ he mused, taking a deep drag of his smoke. ‘She knows I’ve been after Buffy to marry me for years, why would she seem so odd about it.’

His mother had reacted rather strangely to his happy news, just the opposite of his father who had immediately asked, hopefully, if Buffy was pregnant. Of course dear old Dad was a bit dissapointed when Spike had said no, that was to be expected. However, just the fact that Buffy finally had come to her senses and accepted his son’s ring, made the old man dileriously happy. “Funny,” Spike whispered out to the black night, “Mum didn’t seem as pleased about it; I wonder why. She’s as crazy about Buffy as Dad is.”

Buffy joined him on the balcony, handing him the phone, “your Dad wants to talk to you,” she mumbled and quickly went back inside. “Yeah, Dad,” he asked, stubbing out the cigarette. “William,” his father began, his best stern lecturing voice on, “you make sure you do right by Buffy, treat her like a Queen that she is. The best of everything for the wedding and be absolutely sure that it’s ‘her way’ on everything. Don’t butt in, don’t give your opinion on anything; her way completely. Now that you’ve got what you wanted, your ring on her finger, don’t muck this up, boy. But most of all, treat her well, make her happy and for God’s sake, get her pregnant as soon as possible.” Spike laughed loudly, “okay Dad, I get it. Buffy’s gets it her way, all the way. And believe me Dad, I’ll do my best about the grandkids.”

Rupert Giles seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he finally spoke up, “that other ‘thing’ William,” he said lowering his voice, “regarding Travers, Inc. and all? There’s some information I want you to check out, then we’ll discuss what we’re going to do in a couple of days. But, for right now, go celebrate with my future daughter-in-law.”

She sat at her little vanity table, her perfectly little round rump situtated on the perfectly little round velvet pillow. Buffy had found this little vanity and matching chair at a Cost Plus in LA, it’s cherry wood frame had caught her eye. When she’d had the set delivered to the apartment, she had immediately repainted it white, decorating it with pink cherry blossom appliques herself. Will had thought it silly at the time, he wondered why she just didn’t buy the damn thing exactly as she wanted it. ‘He just doesn’t get it,’ she thought sadly, ‘I wanted to make it perfect myself.’

Brushing out her long golden hair with the silver brush he’d bought her, Buffy thought about the little charade in the restaurant and how she should have handled it differently. The problem was, Will had given her no other option, no out really. With Xander and Cordy standing there, watching them and two tables full of viewers, gawking at them like some patrons at a dinner theatre, what was she to have done? Even though he’d been a complete ass earlier, she loved him and didn’t want to humilate him in front of everyone.

“Hello, baby,” Will walked up behind her and wrapped his arms about her as she smiled at him in the mirror. “Tired?” he murmered, taking the brush from her and begin to stroke it through her hair. Buffy nodded, but relished the feel of the Will’s hands and the brush as he stroked down again and again. “Mmmmm,” she purred, leaning her head back against his stomach, making it virtually impossible for him to continue the sensuous strokes. He set the brush down on the vanity table and began to run his fingers over her left cheek, down to her neck. “What say we get in bed and really celebrate?” he whispered silkily into her ear. “Mmmhmmm,” she agreed as she stood up to snuggle deep into his arms, “I did promise some kind of celebration, didn’t I?” she giggled softly. “That you did, luv,” he purred as he pulled her to the bed, loosening her kimono robe tie from around her waist.

“Buffy, Buffy God I love you,” he was close to cumming as he thrust into her again, kissing her lucious lips greedily. Spike had been purposely tender with her this time, trying to make up for the fucked up way he’d behaved earlier when they’d argued about her leaving. He pulled her legs up around his waist and concentrated on trying not to cum yet, she hadn’t and he wanted her to so badly. “Cum for me, Baby,” he pleaded hoarsely, “I know you want to, please cum for me, now.” Whether it was his pleas or just Buffy letting go completely, she chose that moment to orgasm, gasping his name out softly in his ear. That did it, he came right after her, crying out ‘Buffy’ as he did then collapsing onto her little hot body that was slicked with both their sweat.

“Oh, Will,” she moaned, “that was so wonderful.” He smiled happily, his lips skimmed her cheek and lips, “yeah, you were,” he whispered. While Buffy went to ‘wash up’ as she called it, he pulled on his boxers and went out to have a smoke on the balcony. Spike was content in the knowledge that Buffy would be back in their bed, waiting for him to rejoin her as soon as he took a couple of drags on his smoke. ‘Christ,’ he thought with a shiver muttering to himself, ‘you almost bloody lost her, you fucking prick. That can ‘never’ happen again.’


Flashback Spike’s POV


Spike had finally convinced Buffy, well okay it took about two months, tops, after their first love making session, to move in with him. Okay, that wasn’t exactly right, he leased the apartment that had the great ocean view; they lived there together most of the week. The other couple of days during the week, Spike would work at home in his God awful bachelor apartment, while Buffy would stay at their place alone. Of course, he hated their time apart, absolutely, but it had been Buffy’s idea to have him stay those nights alone in his own place and her at theirs; gave her a sense of independence, he guessed. It made no sense to Spike, he wanted to be with her 24/7, but he bowed to her wishes and went with the flow, for now anyway.

He loved the way Buffy looked when he drove her over to their new apartment for the first time. All excited, just like a kid in a candy store. There was no furniture and the walls would have to be painted to ‘Buffy’s’ standards, decorated to ‘her’ taste, furnished with ‘her’ ideal couches, bed, end tables, everything.

Buffy had literally skipped through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny, every room, wall, corner and ceiling of each room. “We’ll do an oriental motiff,” she cried eagerly, “white walls, red/pink and black trim, silk screens and cherry blossoms everywhere, the whole enchilada!” Spike was so overjoyed to see Buffy so happy that he didn’t even fully digest what she was plotting with the interior decorating. “Do it anyway you like, Princess,” he laughed, wrapping his arms about her, pulling her to him lovingly. “Money’s no object, get crazy if you want,” he nuzzled her neck, discreetly unzipping her dress, “but before you turn this place into a Japanese Tea House? Let’s ‘christen’ the place in the Universal way, huh?”

He gently removed the little sundress from her body and kneeled on the plush carpet, drawing Buffy down with him, “I love you Buffy,” he murmered, pulling his shirt off and undoing his pants. “I love you too,” she whispered back shyly.


Present Day


Buffy found it really odd, but by Tuesday, she realized that Will was easing up on her, at least somewhat. Since Saturday night, when she’d allowed him to slip the two caret diamond on her ring finger, he had been less obsessive then he’d ever been before. Oh, he still smothered her with the Gile’s loving, his adoration and attention, who wouldn’t like that, but the insecure obsessive smothering that he’d been demonstrating for months? That seemed to have faded in less then seventy-two hours and Buffy wondered if she’d been wrong all along. ‘Maybe if I’d just slapped the ring on sooner, given him some sense of security, all this other crap would never have happened?’ This line of thinking comforted her in one minute, but freaked her out in the other. ‘Why in the hell should I have to give him a sense of security by accepting this gold and diamond ring?’ she wondered. ‘Couldn’t Will see, after three years that I love him, just him for the good man that he is, or can be, although sometimes he chooses to hide that?’

She was preparing for a bath, that Tuesday afternoon. Will was supposed to be home soon and Buffy was going to fix something simple for supper, maybe a quick quiche or some pasta. Leaving the bath water to run, slowly, she hurried into the bedroom to search for her special bath salts she’d bought but left in the dresser. That’s when she heard the phone ring on the end table, echoing the one in the front room. Without hesitation, she picked up the receiver, surprised to hear Will’s voice on the phone in the living room, ‘he must have just walked in,’ she surmised. Rupert Giles’ baritone voice boomed out from the other end, sounding way closer then England.

Now, usually, Buffy would never have even thought of doing what she did in the next minute or so. Normally, she would have hung up the phone and gone about her business, leaving Will and his father to discusss whatever by themselves. But lately, well, since she’d found out about the stupid birth control pill thing, Buffy was beginning to become curious about just exactly what Will and Rupert discussed, no matter what the topic. So, when she realized that neither Will nor his father had discovered that she was on the bedroom phone, she couldn’t help herself, she listened in, covering her mouthpiece with her hand.

“William,” Rupert’s stern tone made Buffy slightly flinch, “we need to discuss this Quentin Travers ordeal. But first, have you and dear Buffy set a date yet?” She heard Will hem and haw a bit then, “well, I’m letting her call all the shots on this one Dad, just like you suggested, but I’m hoping to convince her to fly off to Vegas for a quickie wedding, soon as possible. We could always do a family celebration later.” Buffy closed her eyes, trying to relieve the automatic sharp pain that shot through her forehead. “Whatever you two children decide, son. Just make sure Buffy gets what ‘she’ wants on this, nothing else matters that way.” William didn’t answer and Buffy imagined that he probably just nodded his head in compliance with what Rupert had said.

“On to more practical business, son,” Rupert clipped, “did you get that information on the Quentin Travers family that I asked about?” Will seemed to hesitate for a moment, perhaps concerned with what he was about to reveal to his father. “Yeah, Dad, I did and it’s just like you thought. Quentin Travers is playing hardball with us, not going to just hand us his company’s voting majority on a silver platter. In fact, he’s going to try and convince his company’s board of CEO’s to decline our offer. At least, he was that is.” Buffy cringed when she heard Rupert Giles chuckle, a mirror of his son’s laugh; or was it Will’s mirror of his Dad’s laugh? “It’s true then?” Rupert asked, gleefully. “Yup,” Will responed, “young Quinn Travers, Quentin’s grandson and fair-haired sole heir to the family fortune just graduated from snortin’ coke to shooting smack.”

“This could work for us, son,” Rupert crowed happily, “I’m thinking that if you or someone representing us went to old man Travers and mentioned his darling grandson’s penanch for heroin? That and informing the old bastard that we aren’t above notifying the Travers CEO’s that the heir to ‘their’ interests is a junkie? Well, we’d have the old boy by the balls in no time!” Buffy gasped audibly, a sickening feeling beginning her tummy and working it’s way up to her chest. ‘Don’t agree, Will,’ she prayed silently, ‘tell your Dad to piss off and make me proud baby.’ She was thankful that her hand was over her receiver and no one could hear her gasps of horror. “I’ll figure out something, Dad,” Will responded quietly, “I’d like to skip the Travers’ family drama, but if that bloody moron Quentin doesn’t wake up and give in, then we have no choice, do we?”

Buffy replaced her end of the cordless phone, careful not to make any sound to alert the two Gile’s men that anyone had heard their conversation. With a heavy heart, she made her way into the bathroom, happy that she’d turned the bath faucet down to a trickle earlier so that the tub was a little past half full. Stripping off her robe, she crawled into the tub, ignoring the fact that the water was a bit too hot and submerged her body up to her neck into the steamy suds.

“Buffy!” came Will’s loving voice through the door. “I’m in here, baby,” she called out, covering the sad pain in her tone with what she hoped sounded like a chipper Buffy tone. He sauntered through the door, his stance reminded her of Napoleon at Waterloo, at least the passages she’d read about him. “Hi,” she whispered with a half smile. Without a by-your-leave, Will had his clothes off in a second and climbed into the bath with her, “missed you,” he murmered, running his hands down over her breasts.

Wednesday came and went, Thursday did the same. Buffy wondered around the apartment, both days alone while Will went to work and came home around 5:00 PM. It was the same each day, they’d kiss goodbye in the morning, she’d paint in her little studio and try not to think about what Will was up to business wise and then, she’d go to her classes. When she got home, Will would greet her with a glass of wine, a kiss…himself. All in all, it was the same routine, except for the two hours each day that Buffy spent on her cell phone, talking to Tara McClay and Willow Rosenberg, her beloved friends. Then she’d spend the next hour or so on the phone with her Mother in LA, and her Dad.

On Friday morning, Buffy woke up around 7:00 AM to find Will lying, propped up on his left elbow, staring down at her. This was odd, mainly for the fact that her Will usually was up and about, on weekdays, by before 6:00 AM, but here he was, watching her. “Morning baby,” he smiled at her lovingly. “Good morning Will,” she sighed, stretching like a cat, which reminded her, Mr. Gordo needed a checkup at the vet. “Buffy?” Will stammered, running his long fingers down her cheek, “I was thinking, why don’t we fly to Las Vegas this weekend, get married and make it all legal, nice and tidy. When we get home, we can plan a reception or something. Our families could get together, meet finally, you know the whole traditional thing. What do you say, Princess?”

He looked so hopefull and so much like a young boy, what he must have looked like a hundred times or more before he’d become the man he was today. “Let me think about it, Will, okay?” she offerred mechanically. “Actually, it might be better to wait until next weekend?” she added, hoping to placate him for a while. “Yeah,” he nodded, brushing her hair from her face, “you’re right, next weekend would be better.”

Spike was going to go to the office that Friday morning, he had a lot to take care of, especially regarding the Travers’ situation. Before he showered and took off for work, though, he wanted to make love to his beautiful Princess Buffy. So he did. They made love for an hour, giving and taking to and from each other. ‘I’ll have this and her for the rest of my life,’ he thought, contented and happy like he always was when he was with her. In fact, the only time Spike had ever been at true peace was when he was with Buffy, after love making, eating together, laughing or crying at some old movie together. It occurred to Spike that very morning, just before he left for his office, that the only time in his entire life that he ever felt complete was any time he was doing things with his Buffy.

“Buffy,” he called just before he left through the front door, “I love you. I’ll be home about 6:30 PM or so, sorry it’s later then usual. I want to get some things cleared up at the office, this weekend we can make calls, work out arrangements for Vegas next weekend, kay Princess.” Buffy came out of their bedroom wearing the red kimono he loved her in, her honey colored hair flowing down her back in waves. “I love you Will,” she stated simply, blowing him a kiss, “I’ll always love you.”

Spike muddled through the Travers’ files, trying to find some alternate option, anything but the one his Father had suggested to him. He was a Giles, Spike was, down to the bone, but he did not want to squeeze Quentin Travers into giving Giles, Inc. the controlling votes in his company by basically blackmailing the old guy into it. Especially by not using his poor bloody fucked up Grandson to blackmail him with. But then again, his own Father would demand no less of him and in the end, Rupert Giles was God, at least to Spike he was. Finally, about 7:00 PM that night, Spike realized that he was already thirty minutes past the promised time to Buffy that he’d be home. Clicking off his computer, he locked his desk, then his office door and flipped off lights in the building as he went.

He pulled into the apartment parking complex, spotting his Buffy’s red corvette parked in the usual spot. ‘I’ll have to get her a new sports car this year,’ he made a mental note, ‘maybe a wedding present!’ he thought happily. Spike leaned against the elevator wall, tired from the mental battle he’d waged with himself all day regarding the Travers family. One part of him wanted to please his Dad, the other wanted to please Buffy by doing the right thing, the compassionate thing, even if ‘she’ didn’t know he was fighting himself on this. Opening the apartment door, Spike first noticed that the whole front room was dark, no lights shone there to welcome him home. Glancing quickly around, he saw that no lights came from any of the other rooms. At first, he assumed that maybe Buffy was resting in their bedroom, but he caught sight of Mr. Gordo, sitting by the closed balcony glass door; looking rather forlorned, staring out at the empty deck.

“What’s a matter old boy?” he asked the tabby, who turned to look at Spike with what looked like a sad expression on his whiskered face. Mr. Gordo scurried over to Spike, jumping up into his arms and started to meow, a horrific sound, Spike thought. A harsh, sick feeling began to build up in Spike; he felt it crawl like a spider, up from his gut, into his chest, then up into his throat. It made it hard to breathe for Spike; this ‘harsh feeling’ made it hard to think for him. “Something’s very wrong here,” he said out loud, the panic began to creep up on him.

That’s when he noticed something about the little cherry wood coffee table that Buffy had picked out three years before. It was still there of course, but something was missing off of it; Buffy’s beloved art book, it was gone from it’s usual position on the table. In it’s place, Spike saw a large white envelope and he walked slowly over to it. Dropping to his knees, Spike placed his hand on the envelope, the one that had a simple word written on it ‘Will.’ But it wasn’t the envelope that made the traitorous tears begin to spill from his eyes, it was the two caret diamond ring he’d placed on his beloved Buffy’s finger just a few days before that lay on top of the white paper.


A/N: Well, looks like she did it. Left Spike…sigh. Hard chapter to write, really. Please read and review. Thanks to all, Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 17: ‘Dear Will’


A/N: I’m popping in here with this chappie right now, I was going to wait until tomorrow, but….Thanks for reading, luv Spuf


Spike picked up the white envelope with his name written on it, in Buffy’s fine handwriting. He automatically slipped the ring into his pants pocket and stood up raising himself from off the floor, slowly, wiping the tears from his face. Resisting the urge to go pour himself a drink, he sat down on the couch, allowing Mr. Gordo to slink up and snuggle in his lap. ‘He knows,’ Spike reasoned, ‘damn cat knows she’s gone and his heart’s bloody broken, just like mine.’ More tears began to flow down his cheeks, but he ignored them and opened the envelope, dreading what he was about to read:


Dear Will,

If you are reading this, of course you know that I have left you and our home. It was not something I did in the heat of the moment, certainly I do not take it lightly and I hope you realize why I have left. In case you do not understand all of my reasons for leaving, I will try and explain them to you the best I can in this goodbye letter. I love you, I’m afraid I always will, so please don’t believe that I’ve stopped, I have not. However, as much as I love you and I know you love me, I cannot continue to live with you, much less marry you now.

When I found out about the pills that you switched with mine I was devestated and not just because of your deceit. I realized in that moment how truly controlling you have become where our love is concerned, something that not only troubles me but confuses me. Will, when have I ever given you any reason to doubt by love, loyalty or devotion to you? If your insecurity about me is so overwhelming to you, you need to look within yourself and ask these questions: ‘Why would Buffy not marry me? She loves me, is faithful to me and respects me.’ This is all too true, regarding my feelings for William that is. Spike, unfortunately, is another story. Over our three years together, I’ve come to know the good man, kind and loving man that is my William. I adore you William, I love you more then my own life and value the time we’ve had together. However, your alter ego ‘Spike’ is an absolute horror to me. He stays hidden, for long periods of time, keeping his ruthless and controlling nature from me, lulling me into a sense of safety and happiness. It’s true, Spike belongs in the world of Rupert Giles and his trappings. I understand that, but as your lover or your wife, eventually I would have to come to realize that the two worlds of William and Spike will always collide into each other. Please don’t think I’m accusing you of a split personality or any such nonsense, but you have allowed yourself, your Spike self that is, to be tangled up in your Father’s world, his ruthlessness, his love of power and money. Sometimes I really fear that you will never be your own man or free yourself of your Father’s overwhelming tyranny. I love you and your family, but I cannot stand what you have become in your battle to acquire everything you ‘think’ you want. I’ve stayed and watched you allow money, power and even your Father to become your Gods, all the while overlooking your ruthless ways in which you worship them.

I did something last Tuesday that I am not proud of, something that I would never have thought of doing even a month ago, at least not before the pill fiasco. When you discussed the Travers Inc. business with Rupert on the telephone, I listened in, overheard everything that you and he plotted to bring poor Quentin Travers to his knees. To think that the William that I love more then life would even consider using a poor sick young man’s illness to blackmail his Grandfather, probably the only person in his life who loves him, into releasing his insignificant, meaningless company to you and Dad? Will, this is past wrong on so many levels, it’s self-destructive, it’s evil. What did this poor kid ever do to you, I mean personnally, or to me? I realized right then, that my William was lost, Spike had taken over and won and I also realized that part of it was my fault. You see, I don’t hate Spike, in fact, at one time I found his cocky, self assured winner take all attitude to be extremely attractive; you overwhelmed me Will/Spike, made me fall in love with all of you.

Please believe me that I was never in this for the ride, the money, the apartment. I was in it for you, all of you, hoping that our love would cause you to change your ways, at least in business or where your Father was concerned. My Mother told me many times, you can’t change someone, they have to want to change, I guess I thought you’d want to change, for me, for us. It breaks my heart to do this, I love you so much, but I have to be strong for us both. As far as my leaving, where I’m going, where I’ll end up……I’m the only one who knows at this time where my final destination is. My parents, Dawnie, our friends, none of them have any clue where I’m headed. I feel I’ve had to do this this way because frankly William, you scare the hell out of me right now. As much as I love you, do you have any idea how much I resent the fact that I have to ‘hide’ from you, my family everyone I love just to separate from you at this time? I’m telling you this in this letter because I know you Will, you’ll tear Sunnydale and LA apart looking for me, it’s your nature to do this. So, I’m advising you to ‘save your time, energy and resources’ no one knows where I’m going but me and I assure you will never be able to find me if you so choose to try to. Again, as much as I love you, Will, we need to be apart, you just refused to listen to me when I tried to tell you this and I cannot take another upheaval that occurred the other day. I’m not that strong.

I want you to know that the only things I’m taking with me from our place is my beloved Art Books, a few pieces of clothing and shoes and the black leather jacket I just bought. I hope this is okay, I truly need some clothing to look for a job and I only took what I absolutely needed. The rest of the clothing I left in the closet, along with some writings your Mother gave me while we were in England. This is your poetry that your Mother was kind enough to share with me, it’s lovely Will and it causes me pain to know you gave up composing it. Anyway, all of the other jewelry, keys to the Corvette and the registration and pink slip are in the wall safe. About Mr. Gordo; I love him dearly, but so do you, Will and I feels that he belongs to you now. I really think you two need each other and I know you’ll take great care of him.

I hope only the best for you Will, I love you that much. I just wish that my feelings for you could have been enough to help ‘us’ work better. Please take care and don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Remember please to take your darn vitamins and eat right (me being bossy again) but you’re too thin sometimes and it worries me. Also, try not to smoke so much, for your own sake. I love you, I love you, I love you more then life, please, please believe that.



Love Always, Buffy


By the time he’d gotten through the first paragraph, Spike was crying like a school boy and not the least bit ashamed of it. After all, Buffy wasn’t there to see his weakness, she was gone to only God knew where. He clutched poor Mr. Gordo to his chest, so tight the tubby tabby cried out in protest, but he couldn’t help it, Spike buried his head into the orange cat’s soft fur and sobbed his heart out.

After he cried out the initial shock of pain he’d been hit with, Spike began to be hit by more dangerous emotions, at least for him. Panic started to seep up into his body, threading it’s way up through his chest and into his brain, followed by it’s counterpart, anger. “What the fuck was she thinking!” he roared droppping poor Gordo on the couch next to him. The cat took off on a run, making a direct path for the extra bedroom door, apparently he could sense the ‘mood change’ in Spike and headed for cover. Spike stormed over to the bar and poured himself a huge helping of liquid courage which he downed in one gulp and refilled with another shot. He ran his left hand through his hair, trying to calm down enough to think of a plan of action. “Where is she?” he asked his reflection in the bar mirror, “where the fuck is she?” Buffy had said, clearly, that she was not at her parents in LA and no one knew where she went, he simply believed her. “She doesn’t lie to me, ever,” he reasoned, “so where the bloody hell is she? What’s she going to do, how’s she going to live?” His whimpering questions left him feeling weak and disgusted with himself, but he couldn’t help it. At this point, he was more worried about her then he was angry with her, the anger could come later.

Lighting a cigarette, indifferent to the no smoking in the apartment rule, at this point, he began to pace around and drink the large tumbler of whiskey. “What if she gets lost somewhere,” he muttered, alternating between sips of alcohol and drags of smoke. “What if some monster, the human kind, gets his hands on her and hurts her? She’s so damn tiny and defenseless and I love her so much. It’ll just fucking kill me!” Spike felt the tears begin again and fought them, desperately, “pull yourself together, mate,” he rasped. “You need to think this out proper.” An ugly thought niggled at the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it taunted him. ‘What if she ran back to Angel, Spike?’ it laughed, ‘what then?’ “No way!” he roared again, slamming the whiskey glass onto the bar and cracking it into pieces. “Fuck!” he roared again, ignoring the alcohol streaming onto the carpet and the blood, his blood intermingled with it. He grabbed his cell phone and speed dialed Charles Gunn’s number. When his employee answered his cell phone, Spike didn’t even give the man a chance to take a breath, much less say hello. “Buffy’s left me,” he stated, his voice sounded like gravel on cement. Charles didn’t say anything, he seemed shocked by his boss’s announcement. Finally, Gunn asked quietly, “what do you want us to do?”

“She didn’t go to her parents, Charles,” Spike informed him, “didn’t go anywhere that I can think of, she just dissapeared. I want you to get everyone on our payroll who’s good at this, the best ones that is, fuck, hire more people if you have to, but just find her for me! And Charles he added, send that poncey buddy of yours, Wesly down to LA, have him look up Angel O’Connor. I don’t want that fuck to be too intimidated by us, if he knows anything about Buffy, and won’t tell Wesley, then we’ll send someone more convincing. Do you understand?” Charles sighed heavily, “yes Spike, but could I maybe give you some advice, as a friend, not an employee?” Spike tensed up, “yeah, I suppose,” he responded harshly. “If Buffy needed to leave you, felt she had to run like this, don’t you think you should stop and consider ‘her’ wishes in the matter? I mean, what’s gonna’ happen if we do find her? What then?” Spike thought about what the man had said, for about a second that is, “well, Charles, ‘when’ we find Buffy, don’t let anyone go near her. Just leave that part up to me. I’ll be the one to drag her back to Sunnydale, she’s mine after all.”

“Oh, and Charles,” he continued curtly, “don’t go around the Summers’ family. Buffy told me that she wasn’t going to even let them know where she went, I believe her. Anyway, if anyone is going to ‘discuss’ Buffy with her family, it’ll be me.” He clicked off his cell phone and tossed it on the bar, finally noticing his bleeding hand in the process. “Fucking bitch!” he shouted angrily, “when I find her, I’ll drag her arse back here kicking and screaming if I have to!” He lit up another cigarette and opened the sliding glass door to the balcony. Once he was outside, he picked up the ashtray Buffy had so lovingly set out there for him and carried it back inside to the living room. Catching sight of his reflection in the bar mirror, he thought about his Princess Buffy, the one he’d go to hell for if he had to. “I’ll get you back, Princess,” he hissed at the mirror, “your mine and no one elses!” With that, he flung the ashtray at his reflection, shattering the mirror into hundreds of pieces.



A/N: Hope that was, uhm, a nuclear enough reaction from Will/Spike? Thanks for reading, please review. In the next chapter we ‘might’ find out where Buffy went, but William will not. Luv, Spuf

AAN: I feel so bad…I can’t get into the view review section to respond to the lovely reviews I’ve gotten. I don’t know what happened? Anyway, please know I love reviews, and this site…Thanks, Luv, S

Ahhhgggg! I'm banging my head against the computer!
I can't get into 'view reviews'! Okay, to answere some questions here and now...

Yes, Spike is pissed beyond words!!!
No, neither Spike nor Buffy is looking for anyone else to replace the other one.
Yes, Spike will diligently look for his Buffy!
Yes, Buffy is hidiing, big time.
Yes, there are other twists in this plot...
Sigh...Spuf is frutstrated!
Okay, I know the people who have reviewed this already probably won't see this!!!
Ahhhggg! I believe in responding to reviews!
Sorry...
Luv, spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 18: ‘He’ll Be Waiting’


Spike had fixed up his cut hand, something he’d normally have let Buffy attend to and cleaned up as much of the mess he made that he could that night. The shattered mirror was a lost cause, though, Mrs. Walsh, the cleaning lady would have to clean that train wreck up herself when she showed up in a couple of days. Careful not to step on any missed glass shards, Spike took his cell phone and a fresh glass of whiskey out onto the balcony. He drank the double shot down and got up the courage to dial Buffy’s parents house in Encino, hoping that they would at least answere the phone. Dawn, Buffy’s younger sister answered the phone by the third ring.

“Hello,” came her greeting. “Dawnie,” Spike stammered, “it’s William, is your big sis there by chance?” Dawn hesitated, obviously having been coached by someone as to how to ‘not’ talk to him, “I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she finally said, bluntly (ah the honesty of the young!). “You hurt my sister, William, I don’t like you any more.” That hurt Spike, truly, he adored Buffy’s little sis, almost as much as his own sister Drusilla and to think that she no longer liked him or looked up to him just tore him up inside.

“Please put your Mum or Dad on, ‘Niblet’ okay?” Spike pleaded, using his favorite nickname for Buffy’s beloved sister. “Mommy, Daddy, it’s William,” he heard her call out on the other end. Spike took a deep breath and swallowed hard when Hank Summers took the receiver from his youngest child and answered gruffly, “yes William.”

It wasn’t that Spike was afraid of Hank, he certainly was not, but the man was his beloved’s father and that alone intimidated him somewhat. “Where is she, Hank?” he finally asked, trying to keep calm and in control of the situation. Hank sighed audibly, “I honestly don’t know, William. She showed up here, this morning , picked up her old Mustang I was keeping stored for her and took off again within an hour. Apparently her Mother and her had this all arranged previously, I certainly knew nothing about it.

But, William, I have to tell you, I’m pissed off at you about my daughter having to flee from everyone like a refugee in the night, just because you two can’t work out your problems.” Spike didn’t have a response to that one. “Okay, listen son,” Hank Summers continued, lowering his voice, “to be honest, if I knew where Buffy was, I’d tell you right off. Frankly, I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to my daugher, but what the hell do I know? I’m only her father! Who listens to me?”

Spike told Hank ‘thank you’ and clicked off his cell phone, more worried then ever. ‘I knew she wasn’t there,’ he thought, ‘but I had to give it a shot. Maybe Hank might have guessed something, good to know I have one Summers ally, though.’ Suddenly, an idea occurred to him and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. He speed dialed Buffy’s cell phone number and prayed she had it turned on; she did alright.

The problem was she’d left it at their apartment, Spike heard the annoying sound of ‘It’s a Small World’ tinkling from the book case by the balcony. “Fuck!” he screamed slamming his cell onto the bar and grabbing hers, turning off the song and hurling the phone against a nearby wall. It hit the wall with such force that it broke into pieces and left a nice sized whole in the white and salmon paint.

“Buffy painted that trim herself,” Spike thought sadly, regretting his violent act immediately. Tears threatened him again and he decided to go out to the balcony to smoke, taking Mr. Gordo, who had come out of hiding to see what was going on, to sit with him.

Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Spike sat at the balcony table, the one he’d shared with Buffy so many times. It was these kinds of things, little things that caused more of those tiny tears to form at the edge of eyes. Mr. Gordo sat in his lap, purring softly and sadly, too, Spike thought.

“Were could she be mate?” he asked the cat, stroking his soft fur. If he didn’t know better, the damn cat looked up at Spike as if to say ‘bloody hell if I know, mate. Why don’t you use part of your superior human brain, what little you have of it and figure it out. It’s your fault she’s gone anyway, moron!’

“I don’t have to take that from a bloody cat, Gordo,” he hissed back at the tabby. “Christ, I’m carrying on an argument with a cat for God’s sake! I’ve got to find Buffy, I’ll go completely round the bend if I don’t!”

Buffy had been gone from Sunnydale for almost four weeks and was settling nicely in her new home. She was thankful for Tara McClay and that her best friend’s girlfriend had so many friends and contacts in the art world, especially in so many places. Tara’s cousin, Warren Meers, was the manager of an Art Gallery and had been more then happy to hire Buffy on Tara’s word alone. Because of Tara, Buffy had been able to come here, to this beautiful place, get a position right away and even, with Warren’s help find a lovely place to live.

Her little cottage was just that ‘little’ but cozy and well, just hers. ‘Thank God for Tara,’ Buffy thought to herself as she went over the accounts for the Victory Art Gallery. This was just one of her responsibilities and she loved it. When Buffy had called Tara, right after the pill fiasco with Will and then that horrible realization that her lover was capable of almost anything, well, Willow’s girlfriend had been most sympathetic.

“I’d leave Willow, too,” Tara had assured Buffy, “if she became so obsessed with me that she would do horrible things. It’s just a pity that you have to go to these lengths, Buffy, I mean to have to hide out?”

Tara McClay had arranged everything perfectly, finding Buffy a position with her cousin, Warren and his wife April ran the Gallery nearby Buffy’s new home. April had even found the cottage for Buffy, before she ever arrived in their town. Buffy had fallen in love with the area, the cottage and The Art Gallery right away.

However…..it did not make up for her sense of loss of her William. She had come to grips with it the minute she had taken a bus out of Sunnydale, she was and always would be in love with Will, period. Of course, Buffy had cried for days, her heart broke a million times in the first few weeks of seperation from Will, but she knew she had to be strong, very strong in this matter.

Tara had been a blessing, truly. Buffy did hate to drag her into all of this, make her keep her whereabouts from Willow, Xander and Cordy, her family, most of all Will. The truth was, as good a friend as Willow had always been to Buffy, if she knew anything about where she was, her best friend, Red, as William called her, would never be able to keep the secret. No, the minute William or one of his lap dogs would have approached her, Willow, regarding Buffy’s whereabouts? Willow would have sung like a red-headed canary, whether she meant to or not, and Tara seemed to realize this also

Buffy set the accounts aside for a moment and fished her cell phone out of her purse, then dialed Tara’s cell. “Hello,” came Tara’s warm voice. “It’s me, Tara,” Buffy greeted, feeling suddenly lonely. “Hi sweetie,” Tara responded, “how’s it going?” Buffy had to think about that one, ‘how was it going?’

She had settled in at work, set up a nice neat little home for herself and tried as hard as she could not to think or worry about Will. In fact, when Tara and her talked, Tara being the only one with Buffy’s new cell phone number, Buffy ‘tried’ not to ask about Will.

“Before you even ask, Buffy,” Tara said softly, “Your William is a complete wreck. He’s finally gone back to work, kind of, but he’s still drinking himself stupid every night in your apartment. William tells, Xander tells Cordy, Cordy tells Willow and Wills tells me, and no, he hasn’t called off his ‘bounty hunters’ nor do I think he’s ever going to.” “Oh,” is all Buffy could say.

“I think I know you pretty well by now, Buffy,” Tara began, “You are hiding out, biding your time and just praying that William changes into the man ‘you’ want him to be, right?” Buffy didn’t answere right away, but that was just what she was waiting for. Finally, “yeah, I guess that’s right, Tara,” she whispered.

“I’m just afraid that William won’t be waiting for me, once I’m ready to come home, you know?” Tara began to laugh loudly, “oh, sweetie,” she gigled, “William ‘waiting’ for ‘you’ is not even a problem. The poor guy will be waiting for you until he’s a hundred. Buffy, he’s so in love with you, heck, everyone’s concerned he’s going to worry himself to death over you. Frankly, I wish you would at least call him on your new cell phone and let him know you are okay. I’d tell him you’re fine, but then he’d know that I know where you are! Besides, if I were you, I’d be more concerned if William found you before you decide it’s time to come home to Sunnydale. It’s not impossible, you know Buffy? With all of his resources, William could very easily find you before it’s time for you and him to face each other.”

Buffy had considered this, often, in the last few weeks, but decided that Will, even with his money and resources, could never find her. Besides, even if he did, Buffy just had to pray constantly that Will would have come to his senses by then, thought about what he had done in the pursuit of money and power.

“I’ve been reading the Journal, Tara,” Buffy said softly, “I saw that the merger of Travers, Inc. and Giles, Inc. didn’t happen. Quentin Travers turned down the deal, at least that’s what the paper said. It means Will didn’t utilize his information, doesn’t it Tara? I mean, Will didn’t try and blackmail Quentin Travers, or the poor old guy would have turned over the voting majority….right ?”

Buffy had told Tara everything that had caused her to run from William and his family. It was so important to Buffy that Will had not followed his Father’s wishes and used Mr. Traver’s young Grandson, Quinn, to negotiate a win for the Giles’ family.

“I would think so, Buffy,” Tara assured her friend. Finally, Tara just came out and said it, “Buffy, I think you should call William and tell him you’re okay, that you’re safe and settled. You don’t have to tell him where you are and he couldn’t possibly trace the call on a cell phone. I’ve kept your family informed about your well fare, Buffy, but it’s time for you to let William know you are all right. Will you do that for his sake, Buffy? For William, for yourself?”

After Buffy and Tara finished their phone conversation, Buffy thought about what her good friend had said, ‘Will did deserve to know she was alright, that was true. Also, there is no way that he could ever figure out that she, Buffy, was over a thousand miles north of Sunnydale, in Victoria, Canada.’

Spike sat in his office, that morning, smoking another cigarette and drinking his half assed cold coffee. He scrolled down the screen of his computer, reading the massive amout of information on it, information that had become so meaningless to him by this time. It had been almost a month since Buffy had left him and gone into hiding; a month of torture and pure hell for him. But, he had finally quit blaming her, now he only blamed himself, something that caused him to drink himself into a stupor every night.

Since Buffy had left him, Spike had spent thousands and thousands of dollars to try and find her. He even had considered hiring a couple of bounty hunters to try and track her down, but didn’t, even he had some limits after all. Besides, Buffy would never have forgiven him if he’d pulled a stunt like that.

His Father, Rupert had immediately suggested having the Sunnydale Police Department put out an APB on Buffy, drumming up some bogus reasons to put her name and face out all over the country. Fortunately, Spike’s mother, Jenny had put her foot down and prevented either her husband or son to pull this kind of stunt to find Buffy.

He still kept looking of course, into every lead, down every logical path, into all the locales that Buffy might have gone to. Spike would never, ever give up on finding Buffy, he loved her more then ever and although he had stopped blaming her every minute of the day or night, he still intended on finding her and bringing her home. Angel O’Connor had not panned out; Wesley Rhys-Smith had spoken to the man right away and was convinced he knew nothing about Buffy or where she had gone.

All of their friends in Sunnydale, Xander and Cordy,Willow, everyone had been a dead end. In fact, these people had seemed sympathetic to Spike, wondering what Buffy could have been thinking, running off like that. Since Buffy had been gone, which seemed like months instead of just one, Spike had lost too much weight. He started smoking and drinking even more then ususal and the only time he went anywhere but work was to hang out at Xander and Cordy’s house, crying his eyes out about Buffy.

Rupert Giles had been furious that his perfect ‘daughter-in-law’ had ran off from them, leaving his son a broken and quite devestated man. “Bring her back,” he’d told Spike gruffly, “bring her back home to you, to us. She just needs a good talking to, spoiled little chit that she is. However, son,” he added sincerely, “she is the spoiled little chit for you.”

Spike, on that particular morning, was going over some insignificant (at least to him) money figures on the accounts. As before in the last month, everything that showed up on the screen had some connection, for him, to Buffy. The net profits made him think of Buffy going over The Chateau’s accounts, the night he waltzed into it and swept her off to Pismo Beach.

Reading the Net Wall Street numbers made him think of mornings at their apartment, him sitting out on the balcony that Buffy loved so, reading the paper, smoking like a chimeny, waiting for her to get up and join him.

“Oh, God,,” he rasped painfully, “I have to find her, I’ll do anything for her, anything to get her back.” His cell phone went off and he was more then glad to stop crunching numbers and reliving happier Buffy times to answere the call, even if he had no idea what number flashed on the ID calling screen.

“Giles,” he answered curtly. “Will?” came the voice he’d missed for a month, the one that he loved more then life, could always lighten his mood, make him feel like a God more then a man. “Buffy!” he gasped, “God Buffy, where are you?”


A/N: Please read and review! Thanks, luv Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 19: ‘I Love You, Don’t Hang Up!’


“God Buffy, where are you?” he cried in relief, just hearing her dear voice made him feel a thousand times better then he had in a month. “I can’t tell you that, Will,” she stammered, “I just called to tell you I’m fine, I’m safe and that well, that I…..” she hesitated and he broke into her sentence.

“Buffy,” he began, his voice husky with emotion, commanding, “get your arse home, now!” Spike immediately realized he had made a grave error when Buffy was silent for almost a minute then she simply said, “I hope you’re well, Will. I just wanted to call, let you know I’m doing fine. Take care of yourself, darling,” she finished. “Buffy, I love you, wait don’t hang…” but before he could finish, she had clicked the phone off on her end.

“God Dammit!” he screamed, slamming his cell phone down on his desk, “I’d fuck up the most simple thing!” Spike resisted the urge to throw his cell phone against his office wall, instead, he opted to fling his coffee mug, coffee and all against his door.

“When I get my hands on her!” he hissed, thinking of all kinds ways to violate Buffy’s lucious body when he had her again. Of course, that sentiment lasted about sixty seconds before he felt so ashamed of himself for even thinking like that, that he dropped his head into his hands and began to sob like a child. Once he had cried out most of his immediate anguish, Spike picked up his office phone and dialed his parent’s home in England, knowing full well his Dad would still be in London at this time. He needed to talk to his Mum, desperately.

The maid answered the phone and put Jennifer Giles on at once. “William?” Spike’s mother greeted softly, making him feel comforted one moment and ashamed of his horrible thoughts about Buffy the next. “Mum, I need to talk to you,” he mumbled, embarrassed by the child like need in his tone.

“Is it Buffy?” Jennifer asked knowingly, “have you found her?” Spike grimaced in pain and took a deep breath, trying not to let his Mother know how tormented he really was. “Yes, Mum,” he stammered, “but no, I still don’t have a clue where she is. But, Mum, she just called me and I kind of mucked things up with her, again that is.” Jenny sighed heavily, “oh, William, what did you say now?”

He explained what had happened, leaving out his nasty after thoughts of fucking Buffy into total subjugation once he had his hands on her again. “I’m lost without her Mother,” he finished, his voice strained and cracked with emotion, “I’m nothing without her.”

“William,” Jenny sighed again, “have you ever considered that ‘you’ might be wrong about all of this. Going about it the wrong way? You’re so busy hunting poor Buffy down that I wonder if you’ve even thought about what is going to happen if you do find her? If you don’t do some changing, son, I’m afraid that all of your pleading with Buffy won’t do any good. Have you even considered this?”

Spike had considered this a hundred thousand times since Buffy had taken off, but the Gile’s male machismo in him just couldn’t, yet, admit that it was he that had to make some big changes. That is if he wanted the woman he loved back in his life.

“Yes, Mum,” he admitted shyly, “I’ve considered it, and I agree with you. I do need to be a different man for Buffy and when I get her back, I promise you, I’ll be less of a control freak, more sensitive to her ‘needs’ and all.” Jenny was silent for a moment then finally said quietly, “I just hope that ‘if’ you find Buffy, William, you realize that your obsessive control of her isn’t the only problem you two have.”

Spike wasn’t completely sure what his mother was trying to tell him, but an unpleasant thought niggled in the back of his mind. Deciding to put that part of the problem aside for now, he told his mother that he was actually trying to write again about Buffy.

“It’s just bloody awful, Mum,” he admitted with a derisive chuckle, to Jenny, embarrassed by any weakness he might exhibit, even to his mother. “I’m sure it’s just fine, son,” she responded with enthusiasm, “you don’t give yourself enough credit, William. Buffy always did, she loved the poems you wrote about her and sent to me. I know she told you I gave them to her to read, she cried over them, did you know that?”

Spike felt his heart skip a beat, ‘no’ he hadn’t known that Buffy was moved to tears by his lousy prose, but now that he did, he was more determined then ever to find her, bring her home. He would spend his fortune, deplete his riches and forge into hell to find her and be with her again.

“I’ll find her Mum,” he promised Jenny and himself, “I’ll find her and we’ll be together again, even if I lose everything I have in the trying.”

After the great cell phone fiasco a few weeks before, Buffy had not attempted to get in touch with Will in any way. “He hasn’t changed a damn bit,” she grumbled to herself, trying not to cry over it again. Will was as commanding and controlling of her as before. “What the heck did I expect,” Buffy thought sadly, “a miracle, it’s only been two months.” Right at that moment, while she was checking over some new inventory at the Gallery, her office line rang abruptly, alerting her to a phone call. She picked up the line, expecting Warren or April to be ringing her about something, instead, she heard Tara McClay’s voice on the other end.

“Buffy?” Tara asked in her soothing voice. “Hi, Tara,” Buffy answered, setting down the pen and clicking off her computer, “how are you?” Tara hesitated a moment, and Buffy just knew she had some earthshattering information for her. “What’s wrong Tara,” she asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Buffy, it’s William, well I mean it’s something he’s done. You’re not going to like this Buffy and I have to tell you, I really didn’t want to tell you this.” Buffy began to feel a bit whoozy, sick to her tummy and head, the writings on the paperwork before her began to blur and she felt like she might faint. “Go ahead, Tara,” she said, weakly, “let me have it.”

Tara hesitated again, then finally just spilled the news, “Well,” she stammered, “apparently after your attempt to try and let him know you were okay? He kind of thought it over, I guess, if you could call it ‘thinking’ and, heck Buffy, I’m just going to say it. William has kind of had a ‘teeny’ APB put out on you here in the States that is.”

”He’s gone past using his own people to find you, he’s actually gotten that nimrod, Wood at the Sunnydale Police Department to go along with all this nonsense and contact some other big city police detectives to help find you. I’m sorry Buffy, but Xander and Cordelia hear all of this first hand from William, of course they immediately tell us. Cordy is fit to be tied, but Xander’s being a complete idiot about it, siding with William and ‘Rupert Giles’ in it. Yes, William’s father is involved in this, now too.”

Tara had said everything so fast that at first, Buffy thought she had misheard her friend.

“I’m to understand,” Buffy choked out the question to her, “that my William has put out an all points bulletin on me? Like a criminal!” Tara quickly assured her that it wasn’t like that, exactly, not so severe as that, “more of a kind of ‘runaway’ child type of action?” Buffy was beginning to see the ‘blinding white light’ of anger that Will used to talk about, “oh, what a comfort for me,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Now I’m just a spoiled little runaway teenager to half the known world!” “Buffy, I wished I wasn’t the one to tell you this, I’m sorry, but I…” Buffy calmed her voice enough to assure Tara that it was the best thing to call her right away and let her know what Will and his Dad were up to.

After she hung up the phone, Buffy sat for a long time, digesting this new information, “this better have been one of Daddy dearests bright light ideas, William Giles,” she growled through tears. “If you were solely responsible for this one, I’ll go so deep into hiding that God won’t be able to find me. And, news flash Rupert and Spike Giles, neither one of you are Gods!”


A/N: Oh, I just had to (hehehehehe). Anyway, Tara’s call will prove to be pivotal in the next few chapters. There are only a few chapters left now. Thanks, please read and review.Luv Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 20: ‘I Know You Still….’


Spike stood out on the balcony of ‘their’ apartment, ‘no,’ he thought sadly, ‘not really their’s anymore. Not when the love of his life had been gone three months now.’ He sat down on a chair and lit up another cigarette, ‘how many smokes had that been today?’ he wondered, losing count at a pack. It was only after 12:00 PM and he was not only smoking like a chimney, he had already started drinking and hour before. “Why not?” he snorted, “can’t a bloke smoke and drink on his own Birthday?” Turning thirty should have been a good time in a man’s life, but Spike’s Birthday was miserable, just like his life, by his own making of coure, he realized that now.

“Wonder if Buffy even realizes what day it is,” he sniffed, feeling quite sorry for himself indeed. He had ordered his employees, his and Buffy’s friends even his parents to officially ‘not recognize’ or remember that today was his Birthday and they had bowed to his wishes. Even Xander promised not to buy him a drink, a present or even wish him any ‘Happy, Happy’ bullshit. “If anyone knows what’s good for them, they’ll bloody hell listen to me. “Oh, God, Buffy I miss you so much, I want you to come home, baby, please,” he whispered, feeling more hopeless every day.

Thinking back to weeks before to that awful moment when Buffy had hung up on him, again, he deserved it. “Christ, get her on the phone, order her to come home? How much of a moron could I be?” Then, after he had talked to his Mother, his Dad has to get into the act and pull that APB stunt! That had lasted less then 24 hours after Spike had personnally gone down to the Sunnydale Police Station and tracked down Robin Wood.

Spike had to laugh, now that is, he’d threatened Wood’s manhood and half of the Department’s jobs if they didn’t pull that fucking order off-line as of that second! They did, right in front of him; that’s when Spike called his Father in England and told him to stay the fuck out of his and Buffy’s relationship. As of then, dear old Dad hadn’t been calling him every other day, just a couple times a week and that was just fine by Spike. In his heart, he knew that his Father had been a part of the problem with Buffy and if Spike had to, he’d give up his worship of Rupert Giles to get her back. Lighting another cigarette, Spike stood up and looked out over the ocean, remembering something three years before.


Flashback Spike’s POV


Spike had been seeing Buffy, regularly, for six weeks now, wining and dining her, doing other simple things, picnics, walks or just anything that ‘she’ would like to do. Most times they ended up afterwards at her apartment making love. He had told her he loved her a hundred times, on the phone, on their dates, during sex, but she had never repeated the words back to him. That was okay, she would someday and for once, Spike could be a patient man.

Buffy had asked him to take her to see his apartment a couple of times, which of course he did even though he was embarrassed by the spartaness of it. When she first walked into it, she scrunched up her pretty face and kind of went ‘hmmm.’ “Will,” she murmered walking around, touching the simple furniture and lamps, “it’s got no ‘soul’ here. You need to bring some warmth and light in here.” ‘Of course,’ he chuckled, ‘you’re my soul Buffy, until you love me, I’m in the dark. Don’t you know that?’

Buffy was working at the Chateau that Thursday night, and Spike was working at his place, for what it was worth. He was about as interested in the paperwork as he was in mud, but since his Buffy was working, he might as well too. Around 8:30, there was a soft knock on the door and confused, he looked through the peep hole to find Buffy standing outside of it, a long trench coat on, ‘what the fuck?’ he asked himself.

Spike was thrilled she was here, but she was supposed to be at the restaurant, so he immediately assumed something was wrong. “It’s me, Will,” she called softly, “can I come in?” Spike threw the door open immediately and pulled Buffy into an embrace, “course you can come in, baby,” he murmered, happy that she was there with him. “But is something wrong, Princess?” he asked with concern, even while he kissed her forehead, cheek and finally lips.

“No,” she answered softly, a slight smile on her lips, “I just needed to come talk to you, it couldn’t wait, Will.” He started to lead her to the couch, then asked her, “can I take your coat, sweetheart?”

She gave him a mischivious smile and nodded enthusiastically, “I’d love it if you took my coat, Will,” she whispered slyly, untying the belt that held it closed. Spike stood behind her, ready to take the coat off her shoulders and when he slid it down her long arms, he realized that his Princess was completely naked from head to toes.

“Jesus, Buffy!” he gasped, dropping the coat on the floor in shock. Before he could say another word, Buffy turned around and literally climbed up his body, wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms about his neck.

“Buffy,” he panted, smiling from ear to ear, “I so love….” But she stopped him by putting a slim finger to his lips, “wait,” she whispered breathily, “me first. I love you Will. That’s what couldn’t wait, that’s why I’m here.” Spike just stared at Buffy, opened mouth and stunned by her whole personna tonight.

“You what?” he asked, dazed and confused. “I love you Will,” she whispered, a little shyly this time. “God, Buffy,” Spike moaned as he carried her to his bed, feeling the wetness between her legs that pressed against the material of his jeans.

Spike lay Buffy down on his bed gently, carefull not to jostle her too much and began to strip his own clothes off off him quickly. “Be there in a minute, Princess,” he whispered huskily. ‘Damn!’ he thought angrily, ‘I have to have a condom somewhere around here, but I think I took them all to Buffy’s.’

She looked up at him with her half closed green eyes, they were filled with want and desire, “come here, Will,” she ordered, crooking her finger to point him to her side. He just stared at her, somewhat dazed from desire, “I’m looking for a…” Buffy smiled wantonly, “get over here, Will, don’t need them. I don’t want any barriers between us tonight, please Will. Just you in me, nothing latex between us.”

He stumbled over to the bed and flopped down on top of her, “you’re really beautiful, Buffy,” he murmered, running his hands down her arms and body. “Yeah,” she purred, “so are you.”

Spike didn’t hesitate, just thrust into her wet, hot center, “say it again,” he commanded huskily, pushing into her, then pulling out slowly, then back in again. “I love you, William Giles,” she groaned in pleasure.

“I love you so much, Buffy,” he echoed, “I’ll never ever let you go, you know that don’t you?” Buffy giggled with glee, “you better not, Mister!” They made love the rest of the night and less then two weeks later, Spike had leased their apartment and Buffy had made plans to have it painted and furnished. In the words of Spike Giles, it was a real win/win situation for them both.


Present Day


It was now close to 3:00 PM on his Birthday and Spike still sat on the balcony of ‘their’ apartment, staring out at the Pacific Ocean, wondering what Buffy was doing right that very minute. “Where are you baby?” he asked the air sadly, “why don’t you come home to me. I’ll change, I swear, baby, I will.”

His thoughts were disturbed by the ring of his cell phone sitting on the balcony table. “Christ, what now?” he hissed, picking up the cell phone and hitting the on button. “Hello,” he answered, just wanting to be left alone.

“Will,” came Buffy’s beloved shy voice from the other end. “Buffy!” Spike cried in shock, “Buffy, oh God, baby. It’s so good to hear your beautiful voice!” There was a moments silence, “I just called to wish you Happy Birthday, Will,” Buffy whispered softly.

“You remembered, Princess?” he asked stunned a bit but happy as bloody hell. “Course I did Will,” she responded with a giggle, “I couldn’t forget your Birthday silly.” Another moment of silence, then, “Buffy,” he began slowly, “I can’t be ‘happy’ without you. I love you so much. Please come home baby, I’ll change, I’ll do anything you want. I know you have to still love me a little, just to call me on my Birthday, so, why can’t you just come home to me?”

Spike swore he heard Buffy sniffling softly, as if she was trying not to cry, “I can’t come home right now, Will,” she said sadly, “I just can’t, but I needed to call you, tell you that I do still love you, and that there’s something….”

Suddenly, Spike heard a man’s voice on Buffy’s side of the line, “Buffy it’s getting late. You better get home now,” he swore he heard this poof say. “Who the fuck is that?” Spike growled at Buffy, his jealousy rearing it’s ugly head. “My boss,” she answered automatically, “I have to work Will. It’s my boss, that’s all.”

Spike knew he’d made a mistake, right off, grilling her about the man’s voice in the background. Of course it was her boss, poor little thing probably had to work at some fucked up job just to feed herself. ‘She better be feeding herself,’ he thought worriedly, ‘she better be all right, I swear to God or I’ll…..’

Buffy broke into his reverie, “I have to go Will,” she said softly, “just wanted to call and tell you ‘Happy Birthday’ and everything. Goodbye, baby.” She hung up before he could even say anything more.

“Buffy,” he groaned, clicking off his end of the phone and dropping back down onto the balcony chair. “God , Buffy, I’m so sorry for being such a fuck up. Please, please come home baby. I love you so much.”

Spike sat for a long while on the balcony, continuing his lonely Birthday celebration with lots of whiskey and Marlboroughs. It must have been going on 5:00 or even 6:00 PM that night when a knock came at the apartment door. “Oh fuck!” he hissed, “who the hell is that, now?” He stumbled over to the door and looked through the peep hole to find Xander Harris standing there.

With a sigh, Spike opened the door and leaned against the frame, “thought I told you I didn’t want visitors today, Harris,” he grumbled at the dark haired man. “Thought you’d want to see me to hear this,” Xander retorted with a smirk, walking right past Spike boldly and sitting on the couch.

“Spike, I’m going to give you a Birthday present, whether you want it or not and frankly, I’m betting that you’ll end up wanting this one.” Spike sat down next to his friend, pouring them both a drink in the fresh tumblers that he’d gotten from the bar.

“Yeah, what the fuck would that be, mate?” he mumbled at his friend, lighting a smoke for himself. “Well, first,” Xander began, eyeing Spike cautiously, “I have to have a promise from you, a big one, Spike. So, as a man, a gentleman and an Englishman, at least you are, you have to give me your word that if I tell you something, you’ll follow up on it, without going to my source, or their source.”

“I mean, friend,” Xander said, suddenly serious as a heart attack, “if I give you some information, you’ll have your people handle it, but you won’t harrass or grill the sources it came from? You’ll just have your own people check it out, where ever that may be?”

Spike set down his tumbler, after he drank the whiskey down in one gulp, “I promise,” he said, seriously, suddenly quite sober and giddy for whatever reason. Xander nodded and looked his British friend straight in the eye; “Happy Birthday, Spike Giles,” he began with a smile, “we think we’ve might know where Buffy is.”


A/N: Okay, now……next chapter we will find out just where and how Xander got this information. Thank you for reading and please review, writers so love reviews, good, bad, indifferent! Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 21: ‘Oh Canada!’


A/N: I decided to submit this tonight, I could’t wait, don’t ask me why. Anyway, please read it, love or hate it, please review and thank you for sharing your time with me. Luv, Spuf


“WHAT!” Spike shouted, shocked as he leapt from the couch, over the coffee table and spun back around to face Xander. “Damn, man,” Xander chuckled with a smirk, “you ever thought about taking up Ballet? That’s a pretty good leap, not that I’m much of a dance expert, but Cordy loves ballet and…..”

Spike stalked back around the coffee table and nearly grabbed Xander by the shirt to pull him up off the couch, “quit the fuckin’ gab, Harris,” he growled just inches from Xander’s face, “where is Buffy?’ Xander kept his cool, you had to give the guy that, he was a great poker player just because of his ‘poker face’ but right now, Spike and Xander weren’t hosting boys poker night. “Where is she?” Spike screamed at the dark haired man.

“Sit the fuck down and light another cigarette, Giles,” Xander chuckled again, obviously enjoying this moment of power, “first off, I said ‘we think’ we know where Buffy is. But, frankly, I’m betting we’re right on target.” Spike flopped down on the couch and dropped his head in his hands in defeat, “okay, Xander,” he sighed with a strained voice, “tell me everything you know, I won’t bother whoever you got it from, though I’ve finally got a pretty good idea who ‘we’ might be.”

Spike looked up from his hands, “well?” he asked, trying to sound patient even if he was ready to rip Xander a new one. Xander cleared his throat, the one Spike was tempted to tear out, and began. “Willow has been ‘concerned’ about Tara and their relationship for a while, Spike.” The blond man raised his left eyebrow, “Red?” Xander nodded and continued, “don’t interject, friend, this is harder for me then you know, for Willow and Cordy too. It’s not like any of us think you handled ‘Runaway Buffy’ real well or anything, so just sit there and shut the fuck up for once in your life, okay?”

Spike nodded, but his jaw was clenched so tight that it was somewhat painful to him. “Anyway,” Xander continued, “Willow, for a while has felt ‘suspicious’ of Tara and her love for her. Wills is a complicated, intelligent woman, but you know how damn insecure she is. For a while now, she’s suspected that Tara might be involved with or toying with the idea of becoming involved with another woman. And Tara, well if she even knew what Willow did to check up on her, she’d leave her, Willow knows that. This is why I can’t have you running over to Tara and Willow’s place, asking questions, grilling either one of them, I’m counting on you to keep your word, right?” Again, Spike nodded slowly, wishing that Xander would cut to the bloody chase and tell him where Buffy was.

“Okay, so yesterday, I guess Tara forgot her cell phone at home when she went to work. Like I said, Wills noticed that Tara hasn’t been herself for a while, acting odd, secretive about something. Anyway, after Tara left for school, her cell phone rang, it was sitting on the girl’s breakfast bar. Willow, being Willow and believe me, Spike she is ashamed that she did this, but she impulsively grabbed the cell phone to see who was calling. I guess she thought it was this possible ‘other woman’ Tara might be interested in.”

“When Wills answered the phone, nobody responded right away, but finally, a familiar, if somewhat altered voice asked ‘Tara is that you?’ Wills was shocked and didn’t answere, even through the obvious disguised voice, she could tell it just had to be Buffy.”

Spike stood up again and began to pace around the living room, lighting another cigarette as he went. He felt lightheaded, the whiskey, cigarettes and lack of food was catching up with him; add that to this breakthrough news about Buffy and Spike felt like passing out. “Did Red find out for sure?” he stopped pacing and asked Xander, hopefully.

“Well, that’s just it, Spike,” Xander shook his head, “she couldn’t be absolutely sure it was Buffy on the cell phone, so,” he hesitated, “so she did a little snooping around and kind of put two and two together and finally got four. Willow started thinking about just when Tara began to act really weird, about three months ago, when Buffy dissapeared. Then, she got real creative and started going through the old apartment phone bills, something she doesn’t handle is paying the bills, so she never even considered this before. Anyway, she found a couple of phone calls to a phone number in, and Spike, I swear to God if you go ballistic, I’ll walk out of here!”

Xander glared at Spike sternly, “don’t even freak out on me and throw something or start ranting or I’ll walk, I mean it!” Spike stood stark still, his eyes narrowed into slits, “okay, mate,” he growled with a smirk, although there wasn’t anything funny about this, “cross my heart and hope to die, I won’t go ballistic.”

Xander chuckled and rolled his eyes, “cross your heart and hope to….” “Just fucking tell me, Harris,” Spike ordered evenly. “Okay, Willow found records of a couple of calls to Victoria, Canada.” ‘Canada!’ Spike roared, in his head that is, keeping his promise to try and keep calm in front of Xander, ‘hell, he could rant later when he was alone!’

“Yeah, man, Canada,” Xander confirmed, “then everything clicked into place to Willow. She remembered that Tara has some married cousin, Wilbur, Wiley, something like that, he and his wife manage some Art Gallery up there in Victoria. I guess Tara grew up with this guy and Willow remembers her mentioning him once or twice. Thing is, Willow knows that Tara isn’t that much in touch with him or his wife now, so the two phone calls in one month?”

“ That was like a smoke alarm going off to Willow. She even debated calling the numbers, seeing if Buffy or this cousin of Tara’s answered, but she chickened out, afraid it might cause Buffy to get nervous, maybe run off someplace else.” Spike was shocked into silence, at least momentarily, “Canada!” he rasped, shaking his blond head, “I never even thought about Canada,” then he finished with a mutter, “but I don’t think much, do I Harris? Just react like a complete arse.” Xander shook his head this time, “no brother, you don’t think sometimes, but I spose it’s natural for you, look who your old man is?” Spike could only nod silently, if he said anything else, his friend would surely hear the sob of relief in his voice.


Buffy sat down at her lonely little kitchen table to eat her dinner for the evening. She had hoped to really ‘talk’ to Will earlier, but Warren’s interruption had caused Will to overreact and Buffy chickened out. “Damn him,” she muttered, taking a bite of her salad, “he still can’t stand to have any other man within a mile of me. When will that ‘boy’ grow up!”

After the little mix-up phone call of yesterday, when Buffy accidently got Willow instead of Tara, she had reconsidered staying out of touch with William. ‘As much as Will deserves it,’ she reasoned, ‘I know he’s suffering as much as I am and deserves to know everything from me.’ Of course, it had helped when Buffy found out the truth behind that ridiculous APB mess from a few weeks before, funny how Tara got that so mixed up, thought it was Will’s idea.

‘Good thing someone set me straight about that one, gave me some hope that Will’s changing more.’ Starting on her rare steak, Buffy thought about how Will would get such a big kick out of how much she was eating now, “probably thinks I’m skin and bones,” she had to chuckle. Then she remembered what her other contact to SunnyD. Had told her, “he’s as skinny as a rail, Buffy, or so I’m told. Everyone’s worried, just call and let him know you’re still okay, it’ll help, I hope anyway.”

Spike kept his promise of not storming over to Tara’s and Willow’s to grill the two on Buffy’s situation. He was so grateful to Buffy’s beloved red-haired friend, so thankful that she had broken down and run to Xander and Cordelia to tell them everything. No matter what her reasons, Willow had done Spike an enormous favor and he would never forget it, how could he hurt her by betraying her secrets to Tara?

However, once Xander left his and Buffy’s apartment, he had called Charles Gunn and told him everything, instructing his employee to send someone really reliable to every bloody Gallery in Victoria, Canada to check out this new turn in events. Spike would have gone himself, but he reasoned that if Buffy got any ‘sense’ at all that he was anywhere near, she would indeed run again and he could not take it anymore.

“Gotta’ get her back, mate,” he told Mr. Gordo who just stared at him quietly, “I love her. She’s my Queen, My Goddess, my soul-mate and if this turns out to be a false alarm, well,” he chuckled ruefully, petting the tabby gently, “I guess I’ll just have to jump off that bridge when I get to it.”

It didn’t take long for Charles Gunn’s ‘reliable man’ to return his contact’s call with the information that Spike had been waiting on for three months. The very next day, while Spike sat at his office desk, Mrs. Kruger rang the intercom to tell him that Mr. Gunn was impatiently waiting to see him. “Send him in,” Spike barked at Mrs. Kruger, sorry he was such a bloody grouch, he had not slept well the night before, or for every night previously the three months before and he was pretty much on his last nerve now.

Charles sauntered into Spike’s office, a huge grin on his face, but something ‘off’ in his eyes. “What is it, Charles,” Spike stood up and approached his employee with determination, “is it Buffy?” Gunn nodded, thought a minute then said evenly, “I think you better sit down, Spike, this is going to be quite a fucking shock.”

Spike actually did as he was told, Charles looked hesitant, like this was bad news, but Spike couldn’t be sure. He was fairly certain that Buffy was indeed in Victoria, but Charles seemed so uncertain about what he had to tell him. “It is Buffy, isn’t it Charles?” Spike asked uneasily, “is she alright? Just fucking tell me, Gunn, don’t fuck around here, I’m….”

Charles Gunn raised his hand as if to tell his boss to can it and try for once to be patient, “yeah, man, it is Buffy. She is living in Victoria, Canada, working for this Warren and April Meers, just like your source said. Some mediocore place called The Victory Gallery.”

Spike was not a patient man, never had been, except where Buffy was concerned, or so ‘he’ thought. Right now, Charles Gunn was beginning to really piss him off with his cryptic crap, “tell me,” Spike finally roared at the man standing before him. “Okay, okay, chill, Spike, it’s good news, really, just a bit weird. Okay, it is Buffy, definitely, this guy I sent up there, he’s the best, really. Went to about six galleries before he hit pay dirt, this Victory Gallery and actually laid eyes on Buffy.”

Spike sat up in his chair, a sense of panic had hit him, “I told you not to let anyone near her, I don’t want her frightened any more!” Gunn shook his head abruptly, “no man, my guy didn’t let her know anything, just wanted to really lay his eyes on her, make sure it ‘was’ her. He pretended to be some ‘art buyer’ or some such crap, Buffy isn’t really visible in the Gallery, she has her own office in back. You know what I mean, not up front where the public can see her. Anyway, my guy, his name is Rack, by the way, got all business like in a suit and tie, went to these galleries and finally, like I tried to say, found ‘the gallery’ that Buffy is working at.”

Spike felt tears of relief and euphoria hit him, all at once, “is she all right, Gunn?” he asked weakly, not even trying to hide his emotions, “is she okay. You’re being a real fucking prick here, mate, just tell me. What’s wrong with my Princess?”

Charles averted his dark eyes for a moment, then looked his boss straight in his blue ones, “Rack says Buffy looks great, Spike. Just gorgeous, all happy and radiant and everything, but he also says,” the man paused, took a deep breath. “He also says that, man Spike, I shouldn’t be the one here to tell you this news, Buffy….”

Spike stood up walked around his desk slowly and got in Charles Gunn’s face, “just fucking tell me, Charles,” he growled, his fists clenched by his side, his blue eyes dark and dangerous. “What’s wrong with Buffy? I’ll find out anyway, when I go up there and drag her home, like as of yesterday! So just let me in on it, lessen the shock, shall we say?”

Gunn dropped his head, averting his eyes again, “Spike,” he began softly, “Rack says that your Buffy ‘looks’ at least five months pregnant.” Spike’s mouth dropped open, silent for once and he stood frozen in shock, glaring at Gunn in disbelief. “Preg….Pregnant!” he finally gasped, stunned. “Yeah, man,” Gunn mumbled, “Rack says Buffy is definitely pregnant, in fact, she’s pretty well, huge. I’m sorry to be the one that….”

William Giles swallowed hard, trying to keep the burning white light that threatened to overtake him from turning his shock into rage. “Thank you, Charles,” he finally said calmly, seemingly frightening his messenger with his uncharacteristic behavior, “thank you. I’ll handle this from here.”

Gunn looked at Spike is disbelief, probably expecting Spike to go completely ballistic after dropping this little bombshell on him. However, Gunn simply nodded a ‘your welcome’ and left Spike’s office as quickly as he had entered it. Spike actually couldn’t walk, he was paralyzed with shock and something else, anger. Anger at Buffy for running off in the first place, and now to find out she was pregnant at the time, took his baby with her, no matter how happy he was about the little Gile’s coming.

Finally, Spike stumbled back around the desk to his chair, pulling out a cigarette and then a bottle of Jack Daniels from the drawer. Oddly calm, probably numb from shock and anger, Spike lit the smoke and took a drink of whiskey, staring out the window of his office.

When he could think ‘clearly’ finally, he could only say out loud these words, “better be ready, Princess,” he growled deeply in his throat, “Big Bad’s comin’ to bring you and our child home. You give me any trouble this time, baby, I’ll drag you both back kicking and screaming!”

Once he’d decided what he was going to do, Spike picked up his phone and dialed his parents house in England, hoping that his Father was there. Sometimes a bloke just needed to talk to his Dad. The maid answered, assured Spike that Mr. Giles was in and went to get him.

“William?” Rupert Giles answered the phone, sounding surprised that his son was actually calling him back now, especially after that last faux pas with the APB mess. “Dad,” Spike began firmly, but soon his voice weakened, fraught with pain and threatening tears. “Dad,” he began again, unable to say anything but that ‘title’ more meaningful now to him, more then ever.

“William? What is it son? Is it Buffy, have you found her? Is she all right, son?” Spike swallowed hard, trying not to cry in front of his strong, tenacious Father, “yeah, I’ve found Buffy, Dad,” he choked out. “Dear God, William!” Rupert Giles cried with concern, “is she all right, what is it?”

The son hesitated for a moment, then finally told the Father the truth, “Buffy’s in Canada, Dad,” he choked out, “and Dad, she’s pregnant, with my child.”

Rupert Giles didn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat, “your Mother and I are flying over, tonight, William,” he announced fairly calmly for a Giles man. “We’ll come tonight, be there by morning your time. Don’t do a thing until then, once we get there, we will ‘all’ go to that God Forsaken Territory up north and bring Buffy and my grandchild home to Sunnydale. In fact, maybe we should just all come back to England, I want my family here with us, your Mother and I. But don’t do a bloody thing, don’t make a move for her until I get there. Buffy’s confused right now, if you and I go up there, show a strong front, she’ll not be able to refuse coming back. Just do this for ‘me’ son, and for yourself. Don’t run up there until I’m there to go with you, and your Mum can be very persuasive, I’ll talk to her, convince her to help us with this. She adores Buffy, will be desperate to get her home with our Grandchild and your child.”

Spike nodded, not even thinking that his Father could not actually ‘see’ through the phone line, after all, Rupert Giles could ‘do’ anything, couldn’t he?’ Instead of answering his Father right off, Spike broke down and cried like the small boy he once was, not the least bit ashamed to be sobbing to his Dad.


A/N: Okay, before you village of readers grab the torches and pitchforks (led by pj no doubt!) and come after me, please try to understand. From day one of this tale I had intended to have Buffy pregnant when she left William/Spike, I never meant to write it any other way. But……there’s a reason, please bear with me, this gives Rupert and Jenny even more of a reason to come to California for their son’s sake. I just threw all of the red herrings, etc. in there to add some twists to the fic, I’m a mystery writer at heart so….Also, I think it gives Buffy even more of a sense of independence to decide to raise the baby by herself, that is if Will/Spike doesn’t come around by the end. So, here’s to procreation, hope I don’t lose readers over this one and hey, only a couple of more chapters left! Thanks, please read and review! Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 22: ‘This Is Getting Ridiculous!’


A/N: I hope you all read this, only a while more to go, promise! Thanks, and please review, Luv, Spuf

Buffy sat alone in her office, eating her lunch; a sandwich and an apple, trying to work up some enthusiasm for even the rest of the day at work. She was getting so darn big from the babies that she looked like a barn, at least she thought so. While she munched down her apple, Buffy thought about Will and just what he would ever do ‘if’ he ever found her and whoa, if he found out she was pregnant.

‘Let’s see,’ she began, listing the various ways her William would go off the deep end; in her own head that is: 1) William would go completely bonkers, that’s a given. 2) He’d probably tear apart our apartment, then ‘he would’ put an APB out on me for kidnapping. 3) He would come storming up here to ‘invade’ Canada, bringing the idiotic Sunnydale Police Swat Team with him. 4) He might possibly have changed enough to actually talk me into coming home (yeah right!) or 5) More then likely he’ll call Daddy dearest and they’ll plot some covert operation to steal us away and back over the border.’

“Okay, Summers,” she chuckled out loud, “that’s enough, this is getting ridiculous.”

A part of Buffy really resented William, oh yeah, quite a part of her. He should be here for her, she was just selfish enough to overlook the fact that it was she that ran and hid from him.

“He forced me into it,” she placated herself time and again, “I love him, he says he loves me, and I know he does. I know it, but he needs to break free of this Gile’s tyranny he’s been saddled with for thirty years. I am not Jenny Giles, I couldn’t live with a man who did what Rupert’s done for so long, no matter how much I love Will, and I do. More then ever, but I’m not going to raise my children that way, not with a tyrant for a father. It’s not fair to them, to me or to Will either, I just know he’s different then that. Spike’s the tyrant and my Will is not Spike, not really, placebo plot and all.”

Buffy thought back to when Jennifer, Will’s Mother, had confessed to her that she knew Rupert Giles had purposely gotten her pregnant with Drusilla to force a marriage.

“I finally figured it out, Buffy, long after William was born, it struck me like a ton of bricks. But, I was so caught up in Rupert, our life together and our children, couldn’t bring myself to leave him. So, I forgave him, but I never forgot it either.”

Spike didn’t even bother showing up to his office for the next twenty-four hours after he had found out about Buffy and his child. He stayed home, actually cooked something decent for himself to eat and drank until he passed out on the couch in their living room.

During the entire past twenty-four hours, Spike’s emotions roller coasted from one extreme to another; he was relieved, of course, to have found his Buffy and ‘know’ she was okay, he loved her so much. Then he’d get really pissed off at her, remembering how she had run off from him, knowing she was pregnant with their child, “who the fuck does she think she is!” he had bellowed, quite loudly, more then once as he smoked and drank whiskey all night.

“That baby is mine and so is Buffy,” he mumbled as he drank and smoked incessantly.


Finally, well close to midnight that night, Spike drank so much whiskey that he passed out on the couch, his mind quiet to his raging emotions.

When Spike woke up the next morning, he was hungover, exhausted and still torn between the desire to rush up to Canada and beg Buffy to come home. The other part of him needed to storm up to said Country and drag his woman and child home to Sunnydale, or better yet as his Dad had suggested, England.

“I’ll get you back, Princess,” Spike grimaced, his head pounding from a horrible hangover headache, “I’ll get you back even if I have to…..” but he just couldn’t finish the sentiment, it hurt too much. Not the headache, no, not even his pride hurt this much; what hurt him the most was his heart and mind, actually his conscious. Because as painful as losing his ‘wife’ and child was, William hurt even more over the fact that he knew in his heart and mind that it was his own fault that they were gone from him.

“What can I do?” he asked his reflection in the full length mirror of his and Buffy’s bedroom, “how do I get her back now?”

Truthfully, William wasn’t quite that ignorant or sublime, he pretty much knew what he had to do to get Buffy back and it had nothing to do with storming up to Canada with his Dad and their entourage. The funny thing was, William wasn’t that adverse to a change in himself or his business dealings. A long time ago, soon after he had met Buffy, William had decided that maybe inheriting the Gile’s dynasty was not the destiny that he really wanted. It’s just that it was so bloody hard for William, or make that Spike, to buck his own Father, to lead the life he really wanted for himself, the one that would make both Buffy and him proud and happy.

“Christ,” he hissed as he stumbled into the kitchen and started the coffee maker up, “I’m a bloody mess, just like my Mum and Drusilla told me.”

His sister had been at his parents’ house when William had called to talk to his Dad yesterday, she wasted no time in grabbing the phone from their Father.

“William, my poor baby brother, what have you done?” she asked with a mournful voice, “you’ve frightened your golden Princess away from you. She’s all alone in a foreign land and she and your child cry out for you.”

Spike couldn’t get his sister’s sorrowful words out of his mind, ‘you chased her off, Brother,’ Dru had accused him. The sad truth was, Drusilla, Xander and Cordelia, even Willow and Tara who had helped his Buffy, they were right; it was William/Spike’s fault that his lover had run off to Canada.


“Come home, Buffy,” he whispered sadly, “come home and I swear to God I’ll make it up to you.”

Buffy sat at her computer in her office, trying to concentrate on the inventory that scrolled across the moniter in front of her.

“Oh, look,” she mumbled sarcastically, “another Native North American art artifact! How astounding!” As soon as she had the snarky thought, Buffy felt remorse, “it is beautiful and I do appreciate this, it’s just…”

It was just that as much as Buffy felt justified or strong or really independent from the Gile’s family, she missed Will. She missed his strength; she missed his strong arms, intelligent conversations, adoring glances and most of all, his love for her.

‘He does love me,’ she sighed, familiar tiny tears forming in her green eyes and sliding down her cheeks, her pregnancy hormones kicking in full force. “Is it so wrong for me to recognize that my Will loves me? Why is he so damn stubborn? Can’t he change for me and these babies? Oh, wait a minute,” Buffy paused, remembering, “he doesn’t know about the babies, does he? Okay, so can’t he change for me? For himself?”

Spike got the call from his Father about 11:30 AM that morning, “we are at the Sunnydale Airport son,” came Rupert’s commanding voice. “Don’t bother to drive out for us, I’ve ordered a limo to bring us to you.”

As much as Spike wanted, no, he needed his Father and Mother with him right now, even if it was just to convince his love, Buffy to come home, he still felt uneasy about them being in Sunnydale.

“I need to talk to my Mum, alone,” he thought to himself, picking up around the apartment quickly. “She’ll know what to say to me, what advice to give me. Dad’s great, I know that, but he’s who he is, he’ll never change, but Mum, she’ll tell it to me straight.”

By the time noon came and went, Spike had showered, picked up the apartment and was waiting nervously for his parents to get there. He didn’t have to wait long as a knock on the front door signaled the arrival of Rupert and Jennifer Giles to his home, “fuck!” he mumbled taking a deep breath and walking slowly to the door, “when will I grow up?”

He answered the door to his parents, hugging his Mother warmly and nodding at his Father in greeting. The first thing Rupert Giles asked was ‘have you had someone keeping an eye on Buffy since you found her?’

Spike nodded his answer, watching his Mother’s reaction, “yeah, Dad. The guy that found Buffy in Victoria, he’s been watching her since he confirmed it was her.”

Rupert nodded in satisfaction, “good,” he patted his son on his back, “as long as this fellow doesn’t get too close to Buffy, alert her to us. We’ll fly up there tonight, I think it’s best to get there and start the necessary actions to get her home with your child, William. If we have to, we’ll pull out all of the stops and spirit them off to England, I’ve got enough contacts in Canada to….”

Jennifer Giles stood up from her place on the couch and cleared her throat, “you’ll what?” she demanded harshly. Both Giles men looked at Jenny, stunned by her sudden bravado. “You’ll what, Rupert?” Jenny asked again calmly, “you’ll kidnap poor Buffy, our Grandchild? Drag her back to Sunnydale, or even better, to England?”

Rupert Giles walked over to his wife and said gently, “Jennifer, I hardly think that….” Jenny appeared to try and not laugh out loud, “that’s just it, Rupert, darling,” she shook her head sadly, “you don’t seem to think at all sometimes.”

Turning to look at her son, William, Jenny seemed to dismiss her husband, as if he wasn’t even there, “I need to talk to you William,” she announced firmly, “privately.”


A/N: I so wanted to make this a really long chapter and put all the things I felt I needed to write into it, but, life has a way of coming up and kicking you in the arse! Anyway, I promise, this story will be complete in the next two chapters or so, promise, yeah, that’s it, I promise! Please read and review, although this is just kind of a connector chappie! Thanks, Luv Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 23: ‘A Mother’s Insight’


A/N: I’m having a horrible night and needed a lift so I decided to submit this chapter now. It’s kind of a ‘revelation’ chapter and ties into the next series of events. Besides, I’m going no where fast with my other fic ‘A Murder In Sunnydale’ and need some consoling.

Oh, yes, I see by the last reviews that folks caught the anvil in the last chappie! Yeah! Thanks for reading and all of the lovely reviews. Luv, Spuf



“I want to speak to my son, privately,” Jenny repeated staring at Spike intently. Rupert Giles hurried over to his wife, “Jennifer,” he sighed patiently, “you really don’t understand, don’t know how to handle this situation, dear.”

Jenny turned to face her husband, “I know more then either of you two insufferable ‘overgrown boys!’ For instance, I know that Buffy had no idea that she was pregnant when she left William and Sunnydale.” Spike and his father gasped simotaneously, “Mum,” Spike whispered, “how did you know?”

His Mother turned back to face him, her features suddenly softer, almost sympathetic to her son’s emotional pain, “Buffy told me, William,” she stated evenly, looking him square in the eyes, “almost two months ago. I’ve known where Buffy was for nearly two months, that and the fact she was pregnant with your child.”

Rupert Giles looked like he’d been hit with a baseball bat and Spike ‘felt’ like he’d been hit in the gut with one.

“Mum?” he gasped again, trying to find his breath and voice, “you’ve known where Buffy was and didn’t tell me?” His voice dripped with confusion, pain and the sense of betrayal that only a son could feel when he finds out his own Mother has turned against him.

“Leave,” Jenny ordered Rupert evenly, her eyes never leaving their son, but her husband stood his ground.

“I can’t believe this, Jennifer,” Rupert hissed, suddenly finding his own voice again. Spike’s Father was as pale as a ghost still, but at least his expression had gone from confusion, shock and hurt to the more determined look the son was used to. Both men closed the gap between themselves and Jenny, walking slowly still in disbelief or denial that this beloved woman would defy or betray either of them.

“All right, then,” Jenny shrugged in resignation, “stay Rupert, but I gaurantee you, you won’t like what I’m going to say and I intend on saying everything I have to. That is if William wants Buffy and their child back, which he does, of course.”

Rupert began to say something, but Spike cut him off, “go ahead, Mum,” he said softly, “I’ll listen, but I’ve a feeling I ‘know’ what you’re going to say. Believe me, it’s not something I haven’t thought of myself for well over three months now.”

Jenny motioned both men to sit down on the couch, but she remained standing. Spike had to smirk as he sat down next to his Father, watching his little Mother cross her arms in front of her and take a commanding stance in front of her two ‘boys.’ Rupert seemed to be completely clueless at the moment, something that was quite a shocker to Spike, that and the old man couldn’t seem to say anything at all.

“First off,” Jenny began with authority, “you two are going to sit and listen for once; say nothing until I’m finished with this little conversation. Got it?”

Both men nodded, awed into silence by this suddenly formidable female. “That is, unless I ask a question of you, then I expect some straightforward answeres. Such as,” she paused, looking at her husband, “who’s great idea was is to switch the birth control pills? I’ve a feeling it was our sons,” she directed the statement at Rupert, who paled even more, “but this smacks of something you’d pull, dear.”

Spike cleared his throat, “it was me, Mum,” he said quietly, unable to look at her, “I did it, but I’m sorry for it, I am.” Jenny nodded, “thought so, it’s what Buffy thinks too. Well, William,” she sighed, “your plans have a way of backfiring on you don’t they? I mean, simply put, Buffy would not have stayed with you even if she had known she was pregnant. She's a strong woman, William, much stronger then I could ever hope to be.”

Spike glanced over at his Father, wondering if his Mother’s words had more then one meaning; he soon found out they did.

“Jennifer,” Rupert interrupted, “you are a strong woman, in your own way.” Jenny tilted her head, mimicing her own son’s habit, “if I was strong, Rupert,” she responded, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones, “I’d have never married you when ‘you’ used the baby stunt on me. And, I certainly would have left you years ago if I had any backbone to me, like Buffy does.”

Rupert stood up and walked up to his wife, slowly, “I’d rather die then live without you, Jenny dear,” he whispered softly, tucking a strand of his wife’s dark brown hair behind her right ear. Their gazes never broke from each other.

Spike wriggled around on the couch, a bit uncomfortable to witness such an intimate moment between his own parents, as if he had no place there right now.

“Good,” Jenny stated firmly, “because we’re going to discuss ‘that’ little thirty-three year old plot of yours right after I’m done with securing my Son’s future happiness.”

Rupert gave his wife a half-smile and then glanced around to his son, “William,” he said softly, “you’re on your own,” then he quietly left through the front door.

Spike still sat on the couch, looking down at his hands pensively, much like a scolded school boy.

“William, you should know that Buffy loves you very much, but you do know that don’t you?” Jenny asked softly. He met his Mother’s gaze and nodded slowly, “why did she leave me then Mum? If she loved me, like you loved Dad, wouldn’t she of stayed and worked it out? Like you two did?”

Jenny came around the coffee table and sat next to Spike on the couch, taking his large hand in her small one. “Like I said, Son,” she said in her soft tone, “Buffy is much stronger, emotionally then I am. She has always seen the man you are, loved you despite of yourself and realized that you could become the man ‘you’ want to be someday. Buffy just realized that she needed to go away from you, for a while and maybe you could realize your own potential?”

Spike shook his head, still a bit confused, “so she leaves me, takes our child because it will change me? Make a better man out of me?” His voice was beginning to rise and his Mother, shushed him gently, “well, William, haven’t you changed in the last few months? I mean, aside from the stupid ‘man-hunt’ nonsense and the calling your Father every five minutes with updates, haven’t you at least began to figure out the truth about yourself? Your life and what ‘you’ really want from it?”

Spike stared back down at his hands, then back at his Mother’s loving brown eyes, “you mean, Mum, that I’ve finally woke up and realized I don’t want what Dad wants for me? That I hate it and always have, only did it for him? To please him?”

His voice was barely a whisper as he confessed the truth to his Mother, who, he had a feeling, knew the truth all along.

“Yes,” she murmered, patting his hand with hers, “let me ask you something and I bet I already know the answere to this one, but just humour your old Mother.” He smirked, “you’re hardly old, Mum,” he chuckled warmly. “Well, that’s a matter of opinion, but anyway let me ask you this:

Remember back, oh say over three years ago, before you met Buffy and swept her off of her feet, so to speak. You had everything ‘else’ that you have now, money, power, success and noteriety in the business world, here and back home in England.


Your Father was very proud of you, of course, you’d accomplished everything ‘he’ wanted for you and then some, but….”

Here his Mum paused and frowned slightly, “you weren’t very happy, were you William?” Spike didn’t hesitate, he shook his head, “no,” he answered firmly, “I wasn’t happy at all. I wasn’t ‘happy’ or anywhere near it until Buffy came into my life and lit it up, brought me out of the darkness.”

He felt those old tears begin to slip out of the corner of his eyes and wiped his face quickly to keep his Mother from seeing them. Jenny must have chosen to ignore them, because she continued with her speech: “William,” she began again, hugging her son to her, “if you weren’t happy with everything you thought you had or wanted, before Buffy came along, then don’t you think that perhaps ‘you’ never wanted those meaningless things anyway? I mean, I know about the Journalism classes you took in College, even if your old man doesn’t have a clue.”

Spike glanced at his Mother in surprise, he’d loved those classes, but no chance was he ever going to be able to use them, not with Rupert Giles having his future all mapped out for him.

“Yes, I’ve always known about your love of writing, all kinds of it and frankly, I always thought you’d make a better writer then a ‘captain of industry’ like your Dad.”

William thought about what his Mother had told him for a few moments then asked her, “so ‘why’ did Buffy have to leave? And why didn’t you tell me where she was, skip all the bullshit, sorry Mum, and let me go to her, talk to her?”

Jenny shook her head, “because you had to lose everything William,” she explained evenly, “you had to lose the one, or should I say now the two ‘people’ you wanted the most to realize the truth about yourself. You are not your Father and never will be and let’s be honest, Son, isn’t that a good thing, really?”

He chuckled a little, shook his head and asked, “so I had to become a loser to be happy?” His Mother shook her head again, “no, not become a loser, just lose something that really meant everything to you. Buffy and your child. I prefer to think of it this way…..you lost the real happiness in your life when Buffy left you, right?” He nodded without hesitation.

“So,” Jenny continued, “you basically lost everything and hit rock bottom. Now, when you face Buffy again, you can show her the man that she and I always knew you could be. You’re on the right path this time, William, you’ve realized what makes ‘you’ happy in life, what you really want. Who cares if it’s not what your Father wants for you and I just want you to be happy, darling.”

“I see you as a kind of Phoenix, William,” she continued, “you’ll go to Buffy, a new man, your real self, arisen from the ashes of your old life. You’ll….Oh for God’s sake,” she sighed, “I’m beginning to sound as dottie as your poor Sister Drusilla. In other words, Son, because you are becoming the man you want to be, a happy man within himself, a truly successful person, Buffy will come to be a part of your life again.”

“ Remember something, William, my Father, Grandfather Randalph, he didn’t die a rich or important man, but he died a happy one. With his loving family around him and the contentment of knowing he’d done well in life, because of that. He was a successful person, William, because he found happiness and joy in just living and loving all of his family, and receiving our love in return. Just like you can, Son, no matter what you do in life, as a career, how you earn a living. If you have someone in it, like Buffy, who loves you more then life itself and who you love just as much, well then, you’re a success right off. Just live a good, happy life, William, it’s all ‘I’ve’ ever wanted for you.”

Spike began to cry, silently, embarrassed by his traitorous tears in front of his Mum. She took that moment to hug him tightly to her.

“Will she come back to me, Mum?” he choked out through his tears, burying his head into his Mother’s shoulders.

“I can’t promise that,” Jenny answered, honestly, “but I know she loves you and she’ll at least listen to you now.”

He nodded and continued to cry quietly, rather embarrassed that he did seem to cry so easily sometimes. When he’d finally stopped crying, had gotten calmed down enough to look at his Mother, he said softly, “He’ll disown me, you know that, right?”

Jenny almost smirked back at him, “oh, your Dad, he’ll threaten to disown you when he finds out you’re quitting, giving up the family business, etc. You are, right?”

Spike nodded firmly, “as of right now, Mum,” he responded with determination.

“Well, like I said,” she chuckled, obviously picturing her Husband’s reaction to his Son’s decision, “he’ll threaten to disown you. Probably get good and drunk when we get home and even break up some of my finer furniture and vases, maybe even call an inheritance lawyer or two, but in the end, he’ll come around.”

William gave her a dubious look, “I’m not so sure, Mum” he stammered, “but I’ll take my chances, I just want Buffy and the baby back.”

Jenny laughed outright this time and touseled his hair lovingly, “if he even makes a move to disown you, Son,” she chuckled warmly, “I’ll leave him for good and he knows it. And this may come as quite a surprise to you, but your Father wouldn’t last a day without me, he knows that too. Besides,” she continued, “Rupert Giles would never cut the ties to the one link he has to future Grandchildren. He loves you and your big Sis too much to lose either one of you or any children you might have.”

William knew it was the truth, deep down, he knew his Father would go ballistic at first, but calm down, eventually, and come to his senses about the whole thing. Besides, it’s like his Mum said, time and again, ‘The Giles men hold the women they love in very high regard,’ Dad would never willingly lose his Jennifer. Just like he,William Giles could never be happy without Buffy or their child.

After another fifteen minutes or so of quiet and discussion, William and his Mother realized that Rupert Giles would have to be let in on the turn of events.

“I better be the one to tell your Father that he is not going with you to ‘invade Canada’ tonight. Or ever for that matter,” Jennifer Giles chuckled wickedly, “I almost can’t wait to see the look on the old blowhard’s face when I tell him!”

William was rather shocked to hear his mother talk like this, but realized that after thirty-three years of marriage, most couples had come to grips with their partners’ shortcomings as well as their assests. They all dealt with them, such things in the way they had to.

Jenny stood up and hurried to the apartment’s front door, “Rupert, dear,” she called warmly, “you’d better come in now. In fact, William is going to fix us all a drink at the bar. Make mine wine, Son,” she ordered back to him.

“There we are,” she chuckled, taking her husband’s arm, “sit down Rupert, dear, William, give your Father his whiskey. He’ll need it.”


A/N: This chapter did not go quite as planned, I had wanted to write Jennifer tougher then this, but…..I went with this plot line to show that Spike/William was truly changing already, already waking up and smelling the coffee, without advice from either parent. Hope that makes sense! Next chapter, well, let’s just say there ‘will be’ some Spuffy. Anyway, please read and review! Thanks, Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 24: ‘Bridges’


A/N: Short chapter, not the last one either! Thank you to everyone who has read this and or reviewed. Luv, Spuf


Buffy lowered her swollen body down into her ergonomically correct office chair. It had been four days since she called Will to wish him a Happy Birthday, four days of uncertainty and misery.

‘Should have told him about the babies right then,’ she told herself, ‘so what if he freaked over a man’s voice in the background, who cares!’

She was still angry at Will, still resentful that she felt the need to run in the first place, then to have to hide the babies’ existence just made it worse.

‘He didn’t know,’ her logical voice told her, ‘he shouldn’t have played placebo musical chairs and baby games,’ her emotional one taunted.

“God,” she sighed looking in the full length mirror hanging on her office wall, “I look like a beached whale!”

Jenny had called her immediately after her little chat with the Giles’ boys and informed her that William knew where she was, about the baby and was coming, soon, to talk to her. Buffy had promised Will’s Mother that she would not run again, would sit tight and hear Will out. But, that had been three days ago and there was still no sign of William, something that bothered Buffy terribly.

“I suppose he thinks he’s going to avoid me now, huh?” she grumbled, punching her on button on the computer in front of her. “Probably doesn’t even want me anymore, now that I’m knocked up and the size of Shamu!”

Suddenly, she burst out into tears, “he’s such a damn jerk! I’m such a damn fool and this whole thing is a screwed up mess!”

Spike drove like a bat out of hell through the streets of Victoria, his BMW weaved in and out of the sparse traffic he encountered. It was almost 5:00 PM and he wanted to make sure Buffy would be at home, or at her cottage anyway, he still couldn’t consider ‘it’ her real home. Her home was and would always be with him, at least as far as he was concerned.

“She has just got to listen to me,” he grumbled, checking the rear view mirror for any local police activity. It would do no good to be pulled over for a ticket at this point and Spike didn’t have the patience to try and talk himself out of trouble up here in this unfamiliar place.

According to this Rack fellow and to his own Mother, Jenny, Buffy should be home from her job well before 5:00 PM and Spike wanted to get to her place, face her as soon as possible. He pulled up in front of the little white house, which truly was a cottage, precisely at 5 and turned off the motor of the car.

“This is it,” he whispered to himself, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath. “God,” he mumbled, please, please let her listen to me, “I love her so much and this baby. She’s just gotta’ give me a chance.”

Grabbing a couple of packages that he brought with him from Sunnydale, Spike exited the car and headed up the little walkway to the front door of his girl’s house.

A light showed through the front windows, signalling that Buffy was indeed home, “okay, I can do this,” he whispered again, “I can do anything I need to to get my Princess back.” Summoning up his courage, he knocked on the front door.

“Just a minute,” came her beloved voice through the front door. ‘Dammit,’ he hissed, ‘she doesn’t even have a peep hole for God’s sake. Any bloody monster could come up to the door and….’

The front door opened and Spike came face to face with the most beautiful sight he’d seen in well, forever. If she was shocked or unhappy or any kind of negative emotion, his Buffy didn’t show it; she just stood there, smiling at him as if he had just been there a few hours before.

“Hello, baby,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers, trying not to cry like a ponce, even if he felt like it. It was just so damn good to see her, she was even more beautiful then before, all plump and glowing from carrying his child.

Buffy just continued to stand there, smiling, saying nothing, almost as if she wasn’t surprised to see him standing in front of her, even after over three months apart. Then it dawned on him, his Mother had told her he was coming, told her everything, and yet she stayed to face him. She hadn’t run again and this thought gave Spike some renewed sense of hope.

“Come in Will,” she said softly, finally breaking her silence, but looking out through her own door, glancing about quickly. “You’re alone, right?” she asked seriously, but with a slight smirk, “no SWAT team, no covert operatives? No Rupert Giles, right?” He burst out laughing and shook his head, “no baby, just me.”

As he walked through her front door, Buffy felt like she was in a daze, on a cloud or something to that affect. It didn’t seem ‘real’ more like a dream that William had finally found her, come to her

“Oh,” he interrupted her dreamlike state, “I did bring someone to see you,” he chuckled, setting down the cat carrier and freeing Mr. Gordo from his little traveling cell.

“Oh, Gordo!” she cried with delight, catching the huge tabby when he jumped gleefully into her arms;, “I’ve missed you so!”

Buffy caught a look at Will, his gorgeous blue eyes were downcast and he had to go and do the pout thing, ‘he’s hurt,’ she thought, ‘I”ve hurt him so much and now I make over the damn cat and not him!'’

"Come here Mister,” she called to him, setting Gordo down gently. When Will closed the gap between them, Buffy threw her arms about him and clasped him tightly, finally letting her pent up tears flow freely, “and of course,” she purred into his ear, “I’ve missed you most of all.”

William was nearly crying now too, his own tears mingled with hers and flowed down both their faces.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in awe, nuzzling her forehead with his and rubbing her swollen tummy with his left hand.

“Yeah, for a grounded Zeppelin, maybe I’m beautiful!” she chuckled holding his hand to her covered stomache, right over where she thought the babies must be settled for the night.

“No,” he whispered, kissing her nose tenderly, “you’re just beautiful Buffy, like always, just more so then ever.”

Buffy began to cry harder, still chuckling through her tears, “always with the smooth lines, Will Giles,” she giggled. “How am I supposed to admonish you or be mad at you when you talk to me like I’m a Goddess or something.”

He wiped his face with the back of his other hand, “cos’,” he murmered hugging her again, “you’re my Goddess.”

‘Jesus,’ he winced inwardly looking down at Buffy’s lovely but huge stomache, ‘the baby must be huge. How does she carry that without hurting?’ he thought guiltily. ‘I should’ve been here, with her the whole time, if only I hadn’t been such a stupid fool.’

“Are you okay?” he whispered, never taking his eyes from her tummy, the home for his child, “you’re so tiny, but, yet so big,” he finished by meeting her gaze and patting said tummy lovingly.

She laughed, a delightful, truly very missed sound to him, “I’m fine, the babies are fine, we’re all fine, just missing Pops.”

Spike sniffed again, “yeah, well, Pops is right here now and everybody is going to….” He blinked and shook his head slowly, trying to think if he heard right, “babies?” he asked, stunned.

“Yeah,” she giggled, “fraid it’s of the plural variety. Apparently, your Maternal Grandfather, Randalph had a twin sister. Funny, you never mentioned that.”

Spike grinned from ear to ear then swooped Buffy up in his arms and spun her around a few times. “Twins!” he gushed, delighted by this news, “we’re having twins!”

He held her so tight, that poor Buffy finally had to squeak out in protest, “uhm, I can’t breathe Will,” she gasped.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he mumbled, setting her down but not letting her go, not for a second, never again.

“Listen, Will,” Buffy got very serious as she searched his eyes with her own, “about Sunnydale, I’m not going back, Will. I can’t.”

He ran his hand tenderly down her right cheek and tucked her golden hair behind her ear with his other one, “neither am I, Princess,” he whispered lovingly.


A/N: Short chapter, it was supposed to be the last and final chapter of this fiction, but I have some more I need to write so this was a little bridge between chapters to build up to the end. Our couple have a lot of bridges of their own to mend before there is any happy ending! Just another chapter and an epilogue to go! Anyway, please keep reading and review, thanks, Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 25: ‘No Contest’


A/N: Okay, so I could not wait! I’m submitting the final chapter of this fic tonight. Please don’t be mad at me. Thanks luv, Spuf


Buffy shook her head, more confused then ever by the evening’s events. “What did you say?” she asked wide-eyed, pensively.

“I’m not going back either, Princess,” he whispered again, running his slim fingers down her cheek lovingly.

She paused a minute, tried to clear her mind then chewed on her bottom lower lip, something her Will had always loved to see her do. “You’re not going back? To Sunnydale?” she more stated, then asked.

He shook his head ‘no’ and seemed to wait with baited breath for her next response.

“So,” she stammered, “just what, or should I ask ‘where’ are you going?” A part of her just knew what he was going to say, but the other part, the unsure, insecure ‘what the hell have I done?’ Buffy part was worried.

‘What if he says he’s going to move back to England,’ she wondered, trying to stop the flow of hormonal tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. 'What if he has given up on me? On us?’

She rubbed her own tummy now, somehow trying to protect these unborn Gile’s spawns from hearing or sensing the abandonment of their own Father. ‘Asshole!’ she hissed to herself, suddenly, ‘if he thinks he’s going to run out on me and these kids, well he’s got another….’

Will chuckled warmly, something that Buffy had missed hearing for the past three months, along with ‘a lot’ of other William things!

“Let’s sit down, Princess,” he offerred, taking her by the hand and leading her to the little comfy couch she’d bought second hand locally. When he sat down first, she hesitated right in front of him, but soon felt herself being pulled down onto his lap, ‘well,’ she purred to herself, ‘this is more like it!’

“I was thinking,” Will began softly, “that I’d hang around up here, with you. I mean, if that’s okay with you sweetheart?”

At first Buffy thought she had misheard what Will had said. ‘He’s staying up here? With us?’ she repeated to herself, ‘okay. That’s fine, but…’

Before Buffy could respond, William had started to speak again and she felt more then compelled to listen. She sat and stared at him, the Father of her children, intently, as if what he had to say just might change the course of world history.

Spike tried to word his response carefully; he tried really hard to say what he had to say, being considerate, literate and of course, sensitive all at the same time.

“I was thinking, baby,” he started off quite strongly, “that I’d stay up here with you, close by that is. I’m registered at a nearby Hotel, I’ll be looking for an apartment close by to you and the babies. Thought I’d stick close by, help out if you need me. Not right next door, of course, darling, but close enough to come if you needed me.”

Buffy looked at him as if he’d grown two heads, “what?” she asked with a stunned look, “what will you do, Will? I mean, for a living. Your Dad…..”

He chuckled again and shook his head, “my Dad, Princess,” he interjected, again pushing a strand of hair from her cheek, “is no longer in charge of my future. I’m kind of a free agent at this point.”

She nodded, apparently trying to digest this bit of news he’d given her. “So,” she paused then forged on, “what ‘will’ you do to earn a living, Will?”

He had to smirk, the look on her face was priceless. Buffy sat straddled on his lap, a bit more awkward then the old days and looked as if she’d just been told that Santa Claus was real and was dropping by tonight for tea. Placing an adoring kiss on her right cheek, Spike tried to explain just what he’d been up to the last few days.

“As soon as I ‘talked’ to me Mum,” he began with a smile, hugging her tightly, “I started some changes in motion. Of course Dad was pissed beyond pissed, but Mum spirited him back off home and surpisingly, the old man called the next day to ‘grant’ me his blessing.”

Spike laughed at Buffy’s doubtful expression, “really!” he assured her. “He even told me to ‘straighten up my act,’ I’m not kidding, baby,” Spike stated, trying not to giggle like a school boy.

“Apparently, what my Mum has said for years is Gospel ‘the Giles men hold the women they love in such high regard’ and it’s true, baby,” he got serious now, “I hold you in such high regard.”

Buffy began to say something, but he shushed her and held his finger to her lips, “please, baby,” he pleaded softly, “let me finish everything then you can comment, okay?” She nodded slowly, her green eyes glued to his blue ones.

“First thing I did,” Spike continued, “was sold my half of The Chateau to Xander and Cordelia. Bloody hell, Xander ran the damn thing anyway, he might as well be the whole owner, right?” Buffy nodded, ‘right.’

“Then,” he went on quite pleased with himself, “I sub-let the apartment to Xander and Cordelia. They’ll need a bigger place until their house is done being built and I thought the apartment was perfect for them and the baby. Don’t you?”

Again, Buffy nodded, seemingly dumbfounded by his admissions. “Then,” he forged ahead, “I turned over the financial doings of Dad’s business to Johnathan Levy, the muscle, I left to Charles Gunn and yeah, even that ponce, Wesley Smythe-Rhys. To put it in a nutshell, my Princess,” Spike murmered nuzzling his lips into his love’s neck, “I’ve walked away from Dad’s business, all of it. I’m done. Never liked it that much anyway and if I choose to pick between you, our babies and pleasing my Dad? It’s no contest, darling, it’s you and these little rugrats, all the way.”

Spike again rubbed Buffy’s swollen tummy, gently, trying to convey all of his love and devotion in that gesture. “I love you Buffy,” he murmered seriously, placing his forehead against hers. “I love you, these babies, our life together, the one we can have. That is, if you want it, if we work hard at it. Can we, Buffy?”

He just knew he looked like a whiney school boy, but he didn’t give a rat’s arse, he loved this woman, his wife; okay, maybe they didn’t have a marriage license, but they had love and devotion to each other and everything a man and woman really needed to be a couple, complete and whole.

Buffy sat, open mouthed, wide-eyed and staring at this man she loved more then life. He just admitted that he’d given up everything he had known for the last thirty years, everything that was him, his family, his birth-right. For what? For her; their children together, their future life together. The answeres were there, the truth was out there, one only had to open their eyes, their ears and their mind to ‘hear’ the truth, listen to it and accept it.

“So,” she mumbled, casting her eyes downward to her Will’s yummy lap, “you’re saying that you have given up everything you know. Your life, job and career, even your set future? For me? For these babies?”

William looked at her, his left scarred eyebrow raised in question, “just what have I given up, baby?” he asked quietly. “Nothing I’ll ever miss. Nothing that I can’t replace with something else I’d rather do, including you!” He shot her an old ‘naughty Will’ smirk at that remark and she had to giggle again. “Buffy,” he whispered, pulling her flush to him and starting a row of kisses on her forehead, cheek and lips, “I don’t want anything in my life that doesn’t include you and my children. I love you, want you, love and want our children together. I want to marry you, all proper and white dress like, the rice and pictures, everything; but…..if you want to wait, think it over, take your time to decide? Well, my little beauty, that’s okay by me. I’ll wait, for you, for these kids, everything. I’ve waited thirty years to find complete happiness, I can wait a few months more. I just hope….”

Buffy clasped him close to her, “don’t give it all up, not just for me, for us,” she pleaded, afraid that he might choose not to do these things.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into her neck, “I’ve already done it. For you, me and all of us. Like I said, Princess, I wasn’t ever cut out to be what my Dad thought I should be after all.”

She kissed his mouth, hungrily, “okay,” she whsipered, “you want a new life, me, the kids, but, let me ask you this?” He raised that cute little scarred brow again as if to ask ‘what?’

“What in the heck are you going to do for a living? I mean, Will, how are you going to support me and the twin terrors here?”

He paused a moment then chuckled, “well, seems that Xander Harris was wrong about his father-in-law, old man Chase. Seems the old boy likes his son-in-law more then he thought. Xander went to Charles Chase and asked him a little favour, for me, I mean you and me that is. Chase Industries owns a few newspapers around the world and one branch is located right here in Victoria. Gave me a job the old boy did, for his son-in-law’s sake. I won’t be ‘Editor’ of course, not yet, anyway, but maybe someday. Right now I’ll have to do with Assistant to Editor and….”

She pulled him to her again, new tears, of joy he hoped, began to spill from her bright emerald green eyes.

“We’ll have to work at this,” she murmered in his ear, trying very hard to be brave. “It’ll be a lot of work, William Giles, but I’m willing to give a go, if you are.”

He pulled back from her and smiled, his most dazzling smile, he hoped, “oh, I’m willing, my love,” he whispered lovingly, “as long as you love me. Do you love, Buffy? Still? Like I love you, with everything, all of me.”

She gave him that Buffy look he loved more then life, “more then life itself, Will,” she cried softly, “all of you.” After they had sat, in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Will felt Buffy tense up, “what is it, baby?” he asked concerned.

“I just thought of something,” she sighed in resignation, “I don’t want you in some damn ‘soulless bachelor apartment’ I want you here, with me and the babies. Will you live with me, Will?” Did he even have to answere that one? I mean vocally?

Buffy snuggled down into her man, the Father of her children, her lover and yeah, okay, her future husband, no question. It’s just that she would have to ‘hold out’ a bit longer, really make sure William had changed from Spike to Will Giles; poet, writer, non hostile merger maker of the Gile’s world kind.

“I was wondering,” she murmered into his always warm, delightful ear, “you think that maybe we could, well ‘you know’ go into my, I mean ‘our’ bedroom and kind of ‘you know’ make up for lost time together?”

He gave her the most dazzling smile, his ‘you betcha’ smile that she loved so much.

“Well, bloody hell yes, we can, Princess,” he answered all manly like. “You want, we do. That’s the ticket now, my sweet,” he assured her with another grin, “a real win/win situation for the both of us!”

She stood up and took him by the hand, “come on ‘Big Bad,’ come on with me,” she purred. “I’ve missed you.” Leading him into her little bedroom, after tonight, their bedroom, she began to take off her clothes slowly.

Spike just stood and stared at her, adoringly of course, watching her shed every last piece of clothing. He gazed at her swollen little tummy, the warm little haven that housed his children and sighed, “damn! I’m a lucky man!”

When she crooked her finger at him, beckoning him to the bed, he grinned, the grin of winners; real ones. The ones that roll the dice, take their chances and find true happiness; the kind that comes with hard work, diligence and loving forbearance. When he stripped down himself and joined his wonderful love on the bed, he paused, just before he began to make love to her, “so,” he quirked his left eye-brow, “what did you miss the most? Me?” and he began to kiss her lips then her neck and finally her breasts, “or this?” Buffy grinned at him, stroking his hair tenderly, “all of you,” she murmered, “I’ve missed all of you Will.”

They made love, like a man and a woman in total love and commitment to each other do. He murmered love sonnets to her, she cooed sweet promises to him.

“Can’t last much longer,” he admitted, straining to keep from cumming in her so soon. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” she purred with the utmost love, “we’ve got all night.”


A/N: Well, that’s it folks, except…an epilogue that follows immediately! We’re going to fast forward, oh say about 10 years into the future and check up on the happy family of William and Buffy Summers-Giles. Thank you, to everyone who has read this. To everyone who has reviewed it…Luv, Spuf

MAKE HER OWN WAY


Epilogue:


A/N: Well as much as I hate to end this Buffy/Spike saga, it’s time to. I appreciate everyone who has read this, read and reviewed it and really kept with it! Oh, I’ve taken some liberties with places, titles (books and newspapers, etc.) and such. Thank you, thank you.

This epilogue will be long, what else!?! We’re fastforwarding 10 years to see how our dynamic duo and their offspring are doing. Thank you again, Luv, Spuf



William Giles stumbled into the downstairs kitchen and hit the automatic ‘on’ button to the coffeemaker. He stretched, pulled two coffee mugs from the cupboard and set about to fix Buffy and him a cup. For a brief moment, he considered stepping onto the back porch to have a smoke. Then he remembered he’d quit over five years before, when Buffy was still pregnant with their son William Alexander.

It was that precise ‘quiet’ moment that his twin nine-year old daughters, Elizabeth Anne and her younger sister, by three minutes that is, Jennifer Joyce came bounding down the stairs from their shared bedroom. As usual, they were ‘bantering’ with each other; that’s what Buffy always called it ‘bantering.’

“Sounds like bloody arguing to me,” he grumbled under his breath. Will had made a deal with Buffy after their twin daughters were born to stop swearing so much, at least out loud. He’d been ‘pretty good’ about it, but he still got the evil eye from Buffy whenever young Bill (as they called his son) would use the word bloody.

Jennifer Joyce, or J.J. as the family had nicknamed her, was about a year old when she first used her Daddy’s favorite descriptive expletive; that’s when the deal was forged between him and his beloved wife.

“The cameras aren’t rolling, Lizzy (Elizabeth’s pet name), “you don’t need to emote so dramatically!” Will heard JJ snipe at her sister from the living room. With a sigh, William Giles strode into the living room and shot both the honey blond haired girls a dangerous look.

“This stops! Right now!” he growled at them, his mouth in a frown. Mainly he was frowning because he was trying to keep from smirking. Lizzy was dressed up in some God awful costume, some excuse for a Queen’s outfit or something and JJ was just rolling her eyes at her.

“Where the bloody hell did you get that tiara, Liz?” he asked her, his scarred left brow cocked questioningly. Before Lizzy could answere, he added, “and why do you two go at each other so much? I thought twins were supposed to be close and joined at the hip or something! My God, you ‘are’ living mirrors of each other and clones of your Mum’s! Why can’t you two get along better?”

This was true, both girls looked exactly alike and they were clones of Buffy Summers-Giles, right down to the same color eyes.

“Well Dad,” JJ began, always the one to speak first, “Lizzy’s such a spoiled brat. Oh, and get this Daddy,” she batted her golden lashes at him, “she’s sure she’s going to grow up and be the next Sarah Bernhard! Isn’t that hilarious!”

It was William the elder’s turn to roll his blue eyes, “oh, bloody hell! A bloody actress!” he mumbled under his breath. Sadly, it wasn’t low enough for his wife, Buffy, to miss as she now entered the living room.

“It’s Sarah Bernhardt, JJ,” Buffy corrected her daughter’s pronounciation gently, shooting her husband a murderous look.

“Sorry, Princess,” William murmered to his wife, using the pet name he’d always had and would always use for her. He really was sorry, at least about the bloody hell part; but really? An actress in the Giles family?

“Grandma Giles thinks I would make a very good actress, Daddy,” Lizzy piped up with a pout on her pretty mouth. “She says she just knows that someday I’ll be treading the boards at the West End in London, or maybe doing Shakespeare at the Old Globe! Think of that! Me, William Giles oldest daughter playing Queen Elizabeth I or maybe even Cleopatra! In a black wig of course!”

William Giles stared helplessly at both of his darling daughters, then at his darling wife and just shrugged in defeat. “I give,” he muttered and headed back into the kitchen for his coffee.

Apparently, JJ wasn’t giving up that easy, she followed her Father into the kitchen, also being followed by Lizzy and their Mother coming up the rear.

“An actress, Daddy?” JJ chuckled, a sound that reminded William of someone. “I mean, poor Lizzy can’t even do her numbers proper and…..”

Lizzy beat JJ to her Father’s side at the table, “just because I don’t want to be a nasty old ‘captain of industry’ like you JJ Giles! How about that Mama? Your daughter, the lovely Jennifer Joyce Giles running a big company or working with Grandpa Giles in London? I bet neither of you would like that, would you?”

Buffy Giles was a patient woman, God knows she had to be with this crew, but right at that moment? Well, she’d had enough.

“Knock it off!” she shouted at all three of the people in front of her. “You,” she pointed at her husband, “we have a deal about the swearing! Your son, who’s not even five yet got in trouble at pre-school the other day ‘again’ for calling the Prime Minister of Canada a bloody ponce!”

She then turned her wrath on the girls, “and you Missy,” she spat at JJ, “your sister is very talented at acting, also a good artist, when she wants to be that is and she ‘does’ get all the main roles in school plays!”

Then it was Lizzy’s turn to face Mama, “and just because your younger sister wants to run a business does not make her nasty or bad. JJ is good with math, she’s got a leadership personality. The thing to remember when dealing in the business world or running a business is to handle it with ‘decorum, with grace and integrity,’ right honey?” Buffy looked over at her husband, who at that moment was shuffling the morning newspaper around on the kitchen table, basically ignoring his wife’s glare.

“Yeah, right,” he mumbled not looking at any of the three formidable females of the household.

William picked up and opened the morning Victoria Times newspaper, the one he was Editor of and ran his hand through his tousled brown curls. At Buffy’s insistence, he’d given up the bleached gelled back hairstyle years before; she liked his hair better this way. And that had been fine with him, just like staying in Victoria, Canada had suited him also. In fact, everything about his life suited him just fine.

Buffy and him had settled together quite well up here, finally marrying a few months after they had reconciled. She had insisted that they wait to marry, so he went along with it, holding off the ceremony until that fateful day that Buffy had gone into labour two weeks early. The Minister actually made it to the hospital just in time to say the words that officially united them just before Buffy gave birth to their two little golden Goddesses.

Later, Will had bought the old man a drink to celebrate with him after he rushed to call Buffy’s parents and his own. The two sets of families had converged on Victoria like a Military Operation within days after the twins birth.

Apparently, his Mother had been right all along, Rupert Giles was more interested in Grandchildren then having an heir apparent to his empire. The old scoundrel fell in love at first sight with his two beautiful granddaughters and immediately settled the trust fund from Fort Knox on them both. Just as he later did his young grandson, William Alexander.

“Bloody Hell!” Buffy heard her handsome husband shout at the top of his lungs.

“Will!” she hissed, jumping up from being startled and glancing at her three little ‘angelic children’ as they ate their breakfast. Bill had joined them a little while after the big blowout of earlier and it was Buffy’s turn to fix the breakfast that day. Will had done it all last week and the couple shared the household chores.

“Well dammit, Buffy,” her husband stammered glancing at their children anxiously, “that idiot of an assistant of mine screwed up the front page type again! This whole bloody thing is a mess!” he growled frisbeeing the paper across the kitchen. The entire family watched the newspaper pages unfold and flutter like confetti on the spotless tiled floor.

Both Lizzy and JJ burst out laughing and Bill just smirked, reminding Buffy just what a clone her son was of his Father. Same curly brown hair, blue eyes, smile and off course those cheek bones. She sighed and shook her head, “some things never change,” she muttered.

“Are you going to fire him Dad?” JJ asked excitedly with a wicked grin, “you going to show him the door this time? Can I be there when you do?”

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and started to admonish all ‘four’ of her ‘charges’ when JJ suddenly shouted gruffly, “your fired!”

Mother looked shocked at her angelic looking little daughter, “alright, that’s it! You young lady, no more ‘The Apprentice’ reruns for you and as for you William Giles, we’ll finish ‘this’ upstairs in our bedroom. I’m running late for work as it is.” Will gave her ‘that pout’ of his and Buffy mellowed immediately.

“Girls,” Buffy continued with great authority, “your Dad is taking you two and your brother to the Paper with him today. I have to get a lot of work done at the Gallery before our trip to England next week. I love my job but being an Art Gallery Curator is a harder then it sounds and I need to pull out all of the stops at work until then. And, by the way,” she went on zeroing her stare in on JJ, “Daddy is not going to fire Mr. Snyder today, are you Daddy?”

Will mumbled something to the affect that ‘no’ he wouldn’t be firing Mr. Snyder, his assistant. “Good,” Buffy hmphh’d at him, “because I don’t think…..”

Suddenly Lizzy broke in, “Mom, can’t I please, please go to the Gallery with you? I detest that old stinky Newspaper, sorry Daddy,” she added quickly, “but I would really like to take my sketch pad and finish that drawing of Queen Elizabeth I. Can I please go with you, Mama?”

Buffy stared at the mirror image of herself, except for the pout, Lizzy’s pout was like Will’s, not hers. “Okay, Lizzy,” she relented with a smile, “but you have to be good. And so do you two,” she glanced at JJ and Bill with a grin.

“Oh goody,” Bill interjected, “we’re going to Daddy’s office. Can I help run the printing press, Daddy, please?” Buffy smiled as her husband bestowed a benevolent smile on his youngest and his only son, “well I certainly have no problem with that, son,” he gushed. “However,” Will continued gently, “Mr. Wilkins is in charge of that department, I’m just his boss. He’ll have to give his okay for you to help him start the press machine.”

William grinned at Buffy lovingly, “a born newspaper man, Princess,” he chuckled, “can’t wait for him to step into the business and….”

JJ interupted her Father impatiently, “well I for one can’t stand the newspaper business, Dad, but I’ll take a day with you at your office over that boring old Gallery any time! Sorry Mom,” she finished with a pout of her own.

“I can help watch Bill and finish my book reading anyway, Dad,” she assured him with an air of confidence that reminded Buffy of someone.

“What’s the book, luv?” Will asked innocently enough of his daughter. Before JJ could answere her Father, Buffy broke in, “you know hon,” she sighed in exasperation, “the last one your Father sent our nine-year-old daughter ‘The Art of the Deal’ right JJ?”

The younger twin girl nodded vigorously, “yup! I’m almost finished with Mr. Trump’s book and next I start on ‘Martha Stewart’s Letters From Prison,’ series. I can’t wait!” And JJ ran out of the kitchen to join her sister and brother in the front of the house.

William Giles tried not to smirk when he glanced up at his loveable wife who was at this very moment glowering at him, her lovely slim arms crossed over her chest.

“Well?” Buffy inquired, her left brow quirked up at him as if to ask ‘what the bloody hell are you going to do about our burgeoning tycoon out there?’

Will sat his coffee on the table and gave Buffy his most dazzling smile, “Princess,” he began evenly, “like I’ve always said….even the little ones have to find their own path; make their own way.”

He ended with another smile, his old Spike smile and quickly went back to his reading and his coffee.

“William Giles….” His wife began, her frustration evident in her words, “if I….”

Suddenly Bill’s little voice rang out from the living room, “Mommy, Daddy, Lizzy’s gelled Mr. Gordo’s head fur again! She’s made the poor old guy look like Elvis Presley!”

Buffy shot Will her ‘we’ll talk about this later glare,’ and then she rushed into the living room. ‘Bloody hell, I better go help,’ he mumbled tossing his mug in the sink and joining his wife in 'operation save Mr. Gordo.’ The poor old rotund cat just sat by the sunny front window, something he seemed to only do nowadays and kind of gave Will that 'why me?’ look he’d perfected for over thirteen years.

“Lizzy,” William sighed looking at his overly precocious nine-year-old, “why do you gel poor old Gordo’s hair like that?”

Buffy had picked up the heavy feline and began to wipe the gunky gel from his head.

“Because,” Liz answered matter-of-factly, “you and Mom made me stop gelling Bill’s hair and I have to have a ‘live’ model for my work!”

His wife handed Lizzy the cat and ordered, “get that crud out of my cat’s hair, Missy. I don’t have time for this. I have to get upstairs, take a shower and get ready for work.”

Buffy shot Will her ‘thanks a lot’ look and headed upstairs to her shower.

“Oh, Princess,” Will called to her, “wait just a sec.” He turned to look at his three offspring and shook his head, ‘our clones,’ he thought with smug pride, ‘all three of them.’

When he reached Buffy on the stairs, he embraced her in his arms and whispered, “think maybe you could make that a bath? I could join you?"” He grinned, wiggled his brows and winked at her, ending by planting a kiss on her funny little nose.

“Hmmmmm,” is all she said to him, as she eyed the oil painting that hung in the stairwell hall. It was a portrait of her husband, William Giles, as a knight. His silver armour almost shone like spun glass. Buffy pondered the painting she had done herself, a wicked little smirk on her lips.

After what seemed like a hour, but was really only a few seconds, Buffy smiled at her husband, wickedly. “Lizzy, JJ get ready to go and take your brother with you. Make sure he brushes his hair and teeth,” she called to their three spawns that now watched their parents intently.

“Your Father and I have a corporate merger to discuss upstairs in the bath,” she finished by taking Will’s hand in hers and leading him up to their bathroom.

“Ewwwww,” cried JJ, not at all fooled by the ‘business’ lingo. Bill just shrugged and went back to his toy on the floor and Lizzy sighed dramatically, “I think it’s so romantic. To think after all these years my Mom and Dad still find time for romance. And at their ages!”

JJ just hissed, “oh brother” and removed Mr. Gordo from Lizzy arms. Mr. Gordo watched the two adults with a weary expression, ‘stupid adult humans,’ he seemed to say with his eyes, ‘they’re at it again.’

Buffy smiled at her handsome husband lovingly, “well, that was easy, huh?” she kissed him and leaned down to draw their bath water.

“Nothing about this family is easy, Princess,” Will chuckled, taking her in his arms again, “but bloody hell I would’t give up our life together for all the power or money in the world. I love you and the rugrats more then anything.”

She snuggled deep into his embrace, “me too Will,” she responded softly in his left ear.

Fin (?)


A/N: And so, this tale comes to and end. I tried not to have the epilogue too sugary sweet and all. I wanted it to end with some Spuffy romance though, but thought I should put a dose of reality in there too. Apparently, Will/Spike ‘did’ change some, not totally as did Buffy. Thank you again to all of the readers here and elsewhere and I hope this was a satisfying ending for all of you. I might even do a sequel, later, that gives us some insight to what happened to all the other characters in the story, along with the Giles clan. Please review if you would like. All reviews are read, noted and appreciated. Luv, Spuf