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Buffy waited until she was sure Ella was fast asleep before meeting William in the formal room – and weren’t they all formal—to talk.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the room and found him standing in front of the fireplace, staring into the blaze, he had apparently started – or did he have the hired help do it for him?

“Did you start the fire?” she asked him.

He turned, slowly, as if he knew she were there, watching him. “I did.” He studied her closely. “You look surprised.”

“I thought the only thing you did was work, eat and sleep. Figured maybe starting a fire was ‘beneath you’ somehow.”

He frowned, “No, it’s not. I’m not entirely like that, Buffy.”

She sat down on the overstuffed burgundy couch Indian style. “Aside from knowing you in the biblical sense, I don’t know much else. Especially when you hide yourself away in your office. Or take off to London for a week.”

He sighed heavily, “Buffy—“

“May I finish please?”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, “Go ahead. Tear me up.”

“I’m not going to – okay, maybe I am a little. Look William, we’re both consenting adults. Having sex with you was... well, I’d have to say it was almost inevitable I guess. Don’t ask me how I know that, I just do. But that’s not the point. I’ve had one-night stands before, and well, I’d thought I’d gotten out of them by the time I graduated college. Apparently not—“

“That wasn’t a one night—“

“Yes, it was. Not in the sense where we don’t see each other anymore, but in the sense where we don’t ever do that again and pretend it never happened. I can live with that. What sucks up one side and down the other is not the fact that you left after the sex because of the sex. What sucks is that you left for an entire week to not only leave me in this huge, unfamiliar mansion in a country that is not my own and with a niece I have barely seen, but you left the day after my brother – and might I remind you, your sister’s – funeral. Can I ask you a question, William?”

Jaw clenching, he nodded abruptly.

“Do you have a heart?”

He looked away from her.

“Normally I’d feel guilty for accusing someone of something so horrendous, but I feel justified in this. I mean….” She shook her head. “We both lost our family, William. Did you feel any grief when you woke up in the morning or did you just want to be done with it? File it away and move on back to work.”

“We would have done it again,” he said, finally.

“No, I don’t think we would have and that’s not the point. The point is, you left the next morning with a note and for a week. I don’t think it makes you brave, William. I think it makes you a coward to run and hide like that.”

“Like you’re a saint. You came on to me!” he barked at her.

She jumped up from where she was sitting and got in his face, “I did not come on to you! I was trying to comfort you when I came over to take you out of the room, you jackass. You were about to lose it and I was trying to help you save face. I know how much it means to you to come across as a cold automaton.”

They stood there, glaring at each other, chests heaving. Buffy could not believe it, and she was definitely trying to deny it, but God, she was turned on. Who knew that arguing – something Buffy did not particularly enjoy doing as a pastime, could be so hot? She knew however, it was not just arguing with anyone, it was arguing with William.

The thought, the feeling, just made her angrier. Taking a full step back, she took a deep, what she called, ‘Buddha breath’, and willed herself to relax.

She caught it then. The pain and regret in his eyes. She felt bad, horrible. “I’m sorry, William,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean all that.”

He let out a derisive laugh. “Yes, you did. Don’t lie, Buffy, it doesn’t suit you.”

“I can admit when I’m wrong. I’m sorry.”

“You just told me how you felt justified, and now you’re saying you’re wrong about that?”

“Yes, because I can see that you are going through something too. I’m used to expressing my emotions and myself, so when I’m faced with someone who cannot, I don’t understand it. I shouldn’t attack that which I don’t understand.”

William shook his head, “You really are into that new age, spiritual bullshit, aren’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes, her temper starting to flare again. “I’m apologizing to you and you’re insulting me. That’s just great, William.”

“You’re not apologizing to me, you’re patronizing me.”

Throwing up her hands, Buffy stalked off, “Let me know when you’re ready to talk, William. I’ll be in my room. And don’t worry; I think I’ll be able to control myself.”

~

When Buffy came back downstairs in the early hours of the morning for some warm milk, she was surprised to see William still sitting in front of the fire.

“William,” he turned at the sound of his name wiping his tears away. She looked down at the glass of scotch in his hand and the near empty bottle on the side table.

“Elizabeth,” he went to stand but faltered and slumped back into his chair. “Care for a drink?” he raised the bottle and read the label. “Finest in all of Scotland.”

“A world of no,” she walked over to him. “William what are you doing?”

His glassy eyes tried to focus on her. “Some may drown their sorrows but mine, they like to swim. Pour another one barman before the sun gets let back in.” He went to pour himself another but Buffy stopped him.

“William,” her soft words sent a thrill through his body. “This won’t help.”

“You don’t know me Buffy. You said so yourself,” he shook himself from her grasp.

“You want me to feel the feelings. Well this is me, feeling the feelings. I am sorry if it doesn’t compare to the navel gazing you are used to.”

“You are not feeling anything William, other than drunk off your arse,” she folded her arms across her chest. “This will not solve anything.”

“What is there to solve Buffy? This is not a Nancy Drew novel. This is life. We don’t get Dru and Angel back at the end. They are gone. Plain and simple,” his anger was surfacing.

“Don’t you think I know that William. Getting drunk is not the best thing for you right now.” She tried to explain.

“What do you care Miss Summers? Worried I will get all wistful and start projecting again?” He stood up and moved in towards her.

“What are you talking about?” Buffy pushed him back with force. “William, you are drunk. I think the best thing for you to do right now is go to bed.”

“Thanks for the offer. However the best thing I could do for me is to have another drink.” He moved to face the fire and emptied his glass. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

“It’s easy for you, not me. I think with my head and not my heart. Never had a reason to. Black and white. I see a problem I fix it. No emotion involved ever, has to be that way.” His voice softened.

“That morning when I woke up, you looked so at peace, happy even. I wanted to keep you safe, protect you from all the grief and sadness. I knew I could not fix the situation or take the pain away. I knew if I didn’t wake you, I could protect you from the inevitable, even for a short time.”

He turned around to face her. The tears flowing down her cheeks did not go unnoticed. He started to leave the room.

“Not bad for a man without a heart,” he said as he left the room.





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