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Chapter 4

Buffy awoke slowly, stretching the sleep from her limbs. She felt rested, and yet not. She remembered waking up so many times, having dreams of Dru and Angel, of their accident, of the funeral, of them clawing out of the grave and imploring her and William to take care of Ella.

William.

She shot up in bed, flattening the sheet to her chest in an attempt at modesty. Like she had to be modest now. How many times had they reached for each other last night? How many times had one of them woken up from a nightmare and comforted the other with sex?

Too many times to count.

In addition, where was the boy? Well, from the sight of his manhood, he was no ‘boy’. He was most definitely a man. Somehow, they had managed to see through the rest of the reception after their first tryst, and then proceeded to go at it like bunnies in William’s room for the rest of the night. Both of them had been insatiable.

Looking over to the nightstand, she found a note. A simple note with William’s scrawl.

Elizabeth –

Have gone back to London. Had to get to work. Stay as long as you like..

~William Giles

God, did he have to be proper, and abrupt and short and so... cold? They had spent the night having mad, passionate sex and this was what she got from it? A note?

Why did he go back to London? He could work from the estate, he had told her so at the wedding. No he wanted to get so far away from her that, he had made the two hour journey back to the office. Message received loud and clear.

Rationally, she knew the reasons they had had sex to begin with. Rationally, she also knew that both of them had been grieving and had simply found solace in the other. That was it. Plain and simple.

So then why did it feel like a slap in the face to not only wake up to find him not here beside her, but to have such a short, cold note left instead. She could almost understand if it had said, “Hey, I had to go into work for a while, why don’t you give me a call or I’ll be home later, feel free to do whatever...” However, William would never say that; and, really, she’d have preferred to not have the note and to just have him there. Not because she wanted another go, not because her ego was feeling bruised and she embarrassed. No, because she wanted to be able to talk to him, to share the morning after her brother’s funeral with someone that could relate, that could understand.

How was he feeling this morning? Did he feel grief? Did he feel the urge to cry knowing that Dru would not be calling to harass him that day? On the other hand, did he just feel regret for their nocturnal activities?

Cold-hearted bastard.

The sound of a child crying jarred her from her spiral into negative town and she quickly gathered her clothes from the floor. Flinging open the door and being greeted by the sunshine beaming down the hallway, Buffy rushed down to see where Ella was. Was it on the right or left? Did she take a left or right from his room...God! She could not find anything in this mausoleum!

The sounds of Ella’s cries were upon her and she burst through the door she thought it was, and found Ella quieting down in the arms of Willow Rosenberg, the nanny.

When Angel had first told her they had gotten a nanny, Buffy had scoffed at him. “Why do you need a nanny for? You can’t take care of your own kid? Do you want her to grow attached to someone else and not recognize you as her parental figure? She’s going to resent you one day.”

She wanted to cry now for that. Not because she did not feel she was right, but because she had given Angel such a hard time, because she had made him feel like a bad father. Now, he was not a father at all. Buffy wanted to reach back in time and take back every mean thing she had ever said to him.

Buffy felt sorry for Willow at that moment. Sorry for her because tears were starting to cascade down her cheeks like a dam had burst. She was torn between wanting to hold onto her niece, hold onto the living remnant of Angel, and flee the room.

“Miss Summers, maybe you should get yourself together before you handle Ella? You might upset her more," Willow suggested kindly, sympathetically.

Buffy nodded dumbly in agreement.

She sucked as an aunt already.

~

William was trying to concentrate on the meeting, he really was. He kept staring out the window thinking.

Miss Summers, he almost laughed aloud at his own stuffiness. After the night of sex they had just shared, he really could not get away with calling her that any more.

He had not meant for things to go so far. When he held her, it was for comfort and then something changed. They shared a connection, an understanding that was unique. He had seen it in her eyes, they were both spinning out of control and they needed an anchor.

Last night was… he could not define it. The sex was not about love nor was it about lust either. It was about need. He needed to feel alive. Death and its consequences had been his only focus since the accident. Nothing made you feel more alive than having sex with a beautiful woman. Well, maybe having lots of sex with a beautiful woman.

However, like most quick fix solutions, the results often cause more problems. Case in point was when he woke up this morning. He could not remember the last time he had woken up with someone in his bed. They had gone to sleep apart. However, when he had woken, they were wrapped up in each other’s arms. It was though their subconscious knew that they needed each other.

He did not want to leave the bed. Somehow, they had been able to shut out the pain and sorrow and he wanted the feeling to remain. In the real world, things did not work that way. He did not have the insight that only comes from experience in relationships, casual or otherwise, to know the proper etiquette. Did he wake her? Engage in the excruciating morning after talk. She looked so at peace, the look of sorrow that she had worn since her arrival was gone. He wanted to keep her safe from the sorrow for as long as he could.

They could not shake hands to say thanks for the memories and walk out of each other’s lives. There was too much at stake now. He had toyed with the idea of a relationship with her. He knew the sex would be great; other people’s relationships had been based on less. It did feel nice to be in someone else arms.

Buffy was not just a someone. He had often thought about her, would ask Angel how she was doing. Her words at the wedding had come back to him often in the last two years. He did want to fall in love, and he could so easily with her. She would not go for that, she would tell him that he was projecting and laugh at the thought.

He had had enough heartache this week. He was not about to add to the count.

Therefore, he did what he did best. Avoided the situation, he kissed her forehead and slipped out of bed. Leaving her a note. He had labored over the words before remembering nothing he could say would change their situation.

“What do you think Mr. Giles?” one of the minions from accounting snapped out him of his thoughts.

He had no clue what they were talking about so he took a wild guess.

“It’s a great plan let’s run with it.” He saw a sea of shocked faces, “Seeing you have everything in order, I might step out. I have a case to look over.” With that, he stood up and left the room.

“So, I guess that settles it. Next week’s theme for causal Friday is dress as your favorite Smurf.”





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