Rigidity was something Mrs. Fairfax was more than used to. It was an experience that had marked her early childhood and continued into her girlhood and adolescence.
Her parents had unconsciously contributed to her familiarity with a structured life. They never played the role of doting mother and father. Therefore, she got used to bitter coldness and the emptiness that accompanies an unaffectionate childhood.
This emptiness was never filled. No matter how hard you would try.
Thus, the only choice left is to become someone else. To hide behind a façade that keeps the inner you from breaking down completely.
It keeps the emptiness from consuming you.
And she chose detachment.
Isolation.
A desperate, clawing need not to connect to anyone, in order to protect herself.
Ever.
So sitting there, watching the rigid posture of the man before her was not unsettling to her in the slightest. A lack of warmth was something she excelled in, so if he was using this tactic to intimidate her in some way, it wasn’t going to work.
She’d experienced far more terrible things than the likes of him.
However, when he finally turned around, the look on his face made her blood run cold.
And Mrs. Fairfax knew that she wouldn’t be a chaperon for much longer.
Sitting idly, William pretended to not notice, or at least not be completely undone by the fact that Miss Elizabeth seemed perfectly content to be holding his hand. Buffy confidently clutched at his fingers, as if it were something that she did every day.
William couldn’t decide exactly how he felt in this moment. Part of him felt as though he was being ripped apart, as his mind rapidly tried to catalogue all the sensations he felt during their previous kisses. On the other hand, there was another part of him that was perfectly calm, like he’d been waiting lifetimes just for her.
While his mother always insisted that he would find some nice girl to settle down with, William always feared that no such creature would ever exist for him.
But now, all he could do was sit back, with Miss Elizabeth cuddled against his side, imagining what their children would one day look like….blonde little girls with their mother’s eyes. William adopted a rather sappy grin as he thought about his future life with her. There was no way he was letting her go now.
“Miss Elizabeth?” William queried with more confidence than Buffy had heard in his voice since she arrived in this time.
“You know, William, I’m pretty sure that after your little display earlier you could drop the formalities, don’t ya’ think?” she rejoined perkily. Glancing up at him, she could see that he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
“I mean, we’re so totally past that whole ‘Miss Elizabeth’ part. So…do you think you could call me Buffy?” The young girl persisted.
“Y-you wish me to call you Bu-Buffy?” William stammered, quite unsure what to make of this turn in events. No woman had ever asked him to call her by her given name. He blushed at even the thought of having such liberties.
Leaning in closer to William, if that was physically possible, Buffy whispered seductively into his ear, “Well, I think it’s only fitting. I told you that only close friends have ever called me by that name. And,” she added with a dramatic flair, “just a few moments ago, we became very close.”
“Yes, in-indeed. It means the world to me, pet –” William broke off, only able to stare at the marvelous creature before him. The first woman to take notice of him, the first woman to get to know him, and now, the first woman to have kissed him. And he was the first to kiss her! Things couldn’t possibly get better than this.
He never even noticed that he’d slipped out that term of endearment. Yet when he looked up into her eyes again, he noticed her blush. A rare thing indeed.
“B-Buffy?”
“Yes, William?”
He was going to question her as to what he had said to add such color to her cheeks, but he once again became caught up in her alluring scent and luminous eyes.
Changing tracks, he asked, “M-may I…?”
“May you what?” she whispered as they drew closer and closer together.
“May I –”
“You needn’t ask –”
They spoke in unison, before their lips once again fused together. Neither knew which one began the kiss, only that they couldn’t get enough of the taste and the feel of the other. They found home in each other’s arms.
Mimicking her earlier actions, he tightly traced his tongue along Buffy’s lower lip, causing her to let out a soft moan that was more of a pleasant wisp of a happy sigh than an actual sound. Her purr of contentment traveled to William’s nether regions, making him harder than he’d possibly ever been in his life.
Buffy’s hand released its grip on his jacket lapel and lightly moved down his arm and was just about to drop lower, when William grabbed her wandering hand and placed it on his chest, palm facing his heart. Though William was untried and unpracticed in the manners of lovemaking, he was not naïve. He would not let things go farther. His love for her was far too great to disrespect her in such a fashion.
Quickly relinquishing his hold on her lips, William rested his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose when it became apparent that he’d become quite addicted to her.
The moment’s pause led him to notice his raging hard-on, and unlike the other times when his body’s physiological responses had caused him such mortified embarrassment, he couldn’t muster up even the tiniest bit of shame.
His woman – and by God she was his – had created such feelings in him that he felt no need for embarrassment. Finding that the few seconds he had refrained from kissing Buffy had nearly killed him, he removed his hands from about her waist, and almost sensually (for any sensuality on his part was quite accidental and unplanned) skimmed his hand up along her arms to cup her face.
Looking deeply in her eyes, he saw all the things that he felt for her reflected back to him, and he could only gasp in surprise. He leaned back in to kiss her again, only to be brought up short by her hands on his chest.
“Will? I –”
“Yes, Buffy?”
“Never mind. Just kiss me.” And he did, causing Buffy’s brain to short-circuit.
“Huh?” she managed rather inarticulately, as she realized William was no longer kissing her.
“Did you just call me ‘Will’?” he asked in all seriousness.
“Wha?” Hearing William chuckle brought Buffy out of her kiss-induced haze, finding her partner quite chuffed with himself for having put his girl in such a state.
“I said, ‘Did you just call me Will,’ Buffy?” he added her name quietly, waiting for her to admonish him for his familiarity.
“D-Did I? I honestly don’t…oh, I guess I did. You don’t mind do you?”
“Not at all.”
Just as William started to say something, Buffy burst out into giggles.
What the – William thought in a panic, feeling his heart beginning to shatter into a million pieces. Did I do something wrong? Has it all been some sort of ruse?
Seeing that William was getting rather upset with her unexplained laughter, Buffy finally calmed down enough to explain.
“Will, hah, Will I *gasp* just realized something.”
“What might that have been?” William tried unsuccessfully to tack down both his mounting heartbreak and disappointment.
“Kissing leads to better name calling.” Full of mirth, the young woman failed to notice that William had yet to join in her fun.
“I’m afraid that I still don’t quite understand.”
“The first time you kissed me, I said you should call me ‘Buffy’ and the second time you kissed me I started calling you ‘Will’.”
“T-that’s what you were laughing about?” William was still unsure as to how to respond to this girl’s laughter.
“Yep,” she replied, making sure to pop the ‘p’. “I guess kissing leads to better name calling,” she ended with a blush.
“I suppose so, Buffy.” While he said this, he realized that Buffy Sumner wanted to call him by the name ‘Will’. All feelings of heartbreak were instantly erased as Buffy granted him with such a gift. No one had ever given him a nickname before, as ordinary as it may be. No one had ever been as close to him as and she was now.
“Will? Where’d ya go?” Although the Slayer wanted to continue along her line of questioning, she was stopped by the odd flutters picking up speed in lower abdomen, as William bestowed her with the most beautiful look of awe.
Haltingly trying to put his swirling emotions under control, William explained, “I j-just. No one has ever called by anything other than Mr. Pratt or William. I’ve not had the pleasure of being so close with someone before.”
Placing her hand beneath his chin to bring his eyes back up to hers, Buffy told him warmly, “and you won’t get the chance to be with anyone else either, mister!” She enforced this sentiment with a quick peck on the lips, giggling softly when she saw his joy in her possessive attitude.
“No, no one else,” William cocked his head to the side, steadily gazing at her. And there never will anyone else for you, if I have anything to say about it.
Always uncomfortable any time he gazed at her for long moments, Buffy quickly spewed out, “So…you wanna have more smoochies or do something else?”
William was unable to respond to her forward question and could only stare on in amazement. I do love how she keeps me on my toes.
Seeing his rather befuddled predicament, Buffy let him off the hook with a chaste kiss and cuddled up close to him once again, tucking her head beneath his chin.
They sat there for a while, just enjoying the closeness of the moment. William thought that this was the sweetest moment he’d ever known. He never imagined that he could ever be at such peace while holding a woman at his side. Never knew he could ever feel comfortable enough to have this.
“Will?”
“Buffy?”
Chuckling at his utter adorable-ness, she responded, “I wonder if you could tell me another poem.” When he looked as though he was going to refuse her, she added a pout, “Please Will?”
“Oh! And can it be one of yours?” she added quickly, fiddling with a loose thread in her dress.
Completely gob smacked, William didn’t immediately reply. She wants to hear my poetry? Again? Why on earth?
“Miss Elizabeth –”
“BUFFY. Say it with me now Bu-ffy.”
“Yes, Buffy, I’m sorry. I just, my poetry isn’t very good and I –”
“Yes. YOUR poetry. You’ve never given me the pleasure. And as I recall, it isn’t THAT bad.” She pouted again. “Please?”
“Very well, but please do not mock me. I could not stand it if you were to mock me as well,” he intoned, not being able to bear that kind of rejection again.
“R…” William began.
“I would never mock you Will. Everything you do is wonderful.”
“Thank you, but you are too kind. You’ve only briefly heard my poetry. Mother is the only one who avidly listens or seems to appreciate what I write.” Steeling himself:
“R…”
“Well now you’ll have someone else who appreciates them,” she rejoined, hoping to give him enough confidence to share his poems with her.
“R…”
“I mean I’ll love them no matter what. What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” Buffy’s brow furrowed in question.
“Perhaps because I’ve been trying to start a poem for quite some time now,” he deadpanned with a slight ruffle of irritation. Doesn’t she know how much courage it took to begin all those times?
“Oops! Sorry.” She then made a motion of locking her lips and throwing out the key.
After raising his yet to be scarred brow, William cleared his throat and recited:
“Raven hair, coiffed to a high perfection
There being no need to look at one’s own reflection;
Skin, pale as the moon
Removed from my vision, far too soon;
Eyes, glorious and bright
I could not resist, even with all of my might;
You are, for me, my love
Even if, you flee like a dove.”
“I-I know that it isn’t much. I mean, it’s not the most original –”
“It was wonderful, Will,” Buffy responded sincerely. And it was to her because it was something that he created. After he’d been turned, his life was about destruction. It was oddly comforting and refreshing to hear him create something instead.
“I am quite sure that you are being entirely too kind,” William proclaimed with no false modesty.
“I've never been known for being too kind” Buffy said with a twinkle in her eye that caused William to blush, “but ya know what I would truly love to hear?”
“What would that be?”
“A poem not inspired by Cecily,” she offered slyly.
“I-I didn’t, I mean, how did you know?” he asked abashedly. William didn’t even try to deny it. He knew when he was caught. “I’m so sorry that I brought up a poem about Cec…her. I just –that was the first one I could think of. Do forgive me?” he offered with an unknowing pout of his own.
Unable to resist “the pout,” and knowing that he truly hadn’t meant the poem of his former love to be hurtful to his current – Friend? Love? Something? – Buffy offered kindly, “I know that. And I’d totally forgive you if…?”
“Yes?” I would do anything to ensure that she still returned whatever affections she may now harbor. Maybe she’ll ask for a kiss? he thought gleefully.
“Tell me a poem about me?” knowing that must have had some sort of poem about her fixed in his head, given his nature.
“I-I don’t. I mean, well, I haven’t had the time to compose one.” I hope she believes me.
“Oh.”
Suddenly despondent, but not wanting to seem so in front of William, she tried to change the topic of conversation. “I’d love to see your mother again.”
William didn’t know how else to respond to the abrupt shift in conversation. Everything was going so well. The heat of her kiss still burned his lips, yet he seemed to have mucked it all up just because he didn’t have the inner strength to recite any one of the hundreds, if not thousands, of poems he had written about her. Despite his devotion, he knew, his poetry, nor any other, could ever match the perfection of his girl.
Looking at her, William could see her growing despondency.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he reverted back to his original title for her, believing that he had truly made an irrevocable mistake with his lady-love, “I realize that you are disappointed –”
“No, William, I’m not. Really,” she claimed rather ineffectually. “And I believe I told you to call me Buffy,” she said with a soft smile.
Hmm, she’s gone about calling me William again. Perhaps it is too late for us. I knew I would not be enough for her. Glancing away as well, so she wouldn’t see the depth of his upset, William spent some time looking at the room. However, all he could think about was his ill-fated attempt at reciting poetry to the lady sitting so unhappily beside him. Gathering his courage:
“The sun is warm, heating the air
Yellow and bright
Full and round;
But its warmth, it cannot compare
To the heat of your eyes
When looking upon me,
With more love than one should dare.”
Unable to look up at her most assured rejection, William stood up and walked toward the window, a decided slump in his shoulders. Though he often dreamed of whispering those words to Miss…Buffy, he had not imagined it going at all like this. He always assumed that he would tell her his feelings while she was cuddled close and he was allowed to dote on her, as a man should with the woman who’s captured his heart. He did not imagine telling her as an apology after having ruined the best day of his life. I’ve lost her now for sure.
Looking at his slumped shoulders, the Slayer couldn’t help but be swept away by the man before her. Walking up cautiously behind him, stopping just inches from his back, she huffed at his lack of response, and then wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead into his back and inhaling his earthy scent, giggling a little when she heard his quickly indrawn breath.
When he continued to stand their motionless, Buffy couldn’t resist teasing him.
“I think it’s generally considered polite to respond in kind when someone gives you a hug, Will.”
Gently placing his hands over hers, William didn’t know how to respond. He’d thought he’d made the largest mistake of his life, and now, she was hugging him?
Seeing that she clearly needed more to convince him that she liked his poetry and that nothing was wrong with their relationship, she leaned up and whispered softly,” I like you, too.” hoping that was enough to fix the state that they’d put themselves in.
“Y-you do?” he got out breathlessly. Deciding to go for broke he said, “I-I,” but stopped to clear his throat and turned in the circle of her arms. “I love you, Buffy.” What did you just do you git? You’ll make her run off for sure!
His initial shock and panic turned into a swirling mass of sheer terror as he saw her eyes tear up and her bottom lip began to quiver. He watched as she pursed lips to save off a sob, and then she buried her face in his neck, whimpering out an “I love you too,” breaking off into tears as she squeezed him tighter. Just as he was about to ask her what was wrong, she started trembling in his arms.
Concerned, he gently pushed her away, cupping her chin in his hand so he could look at his weeping girl, only to discover that she had the most brilliant smile on her face that he’d ever seen and that she was, in fact, laughing with joy. William could do nothing but join in with her happiness and rain kisses down on her upturned face.
Yes, he really was addicted to her…
Later than night, Buffy mumbled in her sleep, not quite understanding what was going on, “William?”
“Shh, pet. I’ve got you. Just close your eyes and let me take care of you. William knows what his girl needs,” he said as he climbed up her body, tugging at her shift, and rumbling out his approval of her natural gyrations against his lithe and willing body.
Waking up, but not fully, she noticed that it really was William in her room as he nuzzled between her breasts, and she felt his rather impressive hardness press into her center, making her breath hitch. “Oh God!”
“Already, darling? I’ve hardly touched you, sweetness,” William teased, earning him a glare. Using his finger, he slightly traced around her nipple and watched in rapt fascination as it pebbled just for him. Making sure she was watching him, he leaned down just enough to taste her mounds gently, with intermittent nips to keep her on the edge. William offered up a moan of his own as he marveled at his responsive girl.
She slowly reached up, burying her hands in his unbelievably soft hair and none to gently pushed his head between her legs.
William glinted at her mischievously, and then spread her legs farther apart, amazed at the silky smoothness of her inner thighs and the strength of her want. Enjoying the view of his love spread before him, William leaned down to –
“Miss Elizabeth? Are you awake?” Bridget asked of her young mistress, jarring Buffy out of her lustful dream and catapulted her back into reality.
“Damn it,” was all the blonde could offer in response.