“Marriage is like putting your hand into a bag of snakes in the hope of pulling out an eel”
Leonardo da Vinci
It's amazing how a single sentence can change your life in a matter of moments. This is what Will had just experienced. It shouldn't have really surprised him since, as a writer, he made his living with words.
Seeing his estranged wife standing in the snow looking like a vision, created an elaborate fantasy within his mind. For a moment he imagined Buffy was there to reconcile. Maybe they would even have a conversation that went beyond obligatory or false pleasantries and forced, clipped answers. Unfortunately, what he saw in his mind’s eye crumbled instantly when her words pierced his ears and shattered his illusion.
He knew he was largely to blame for their failed marriage and why she always seemed piqued when it came to dealing with him. She had every reason to hate him, but she didn’t, not his Buffy. Even after he hadn’t been there for her during one of the most devastating moments of her life, she had forgiven him. She had absolved him of the inexcusable act and in spite of it, tried to salvage their marriage. However, he felt she should have never forgiven him, and that’s why he decided to change.
From that day on, he no longer let his or other’s emotions and pleasures rule his world. His decisions were made with his head only. That was the only way to keep her safe. No, he couldn’t blame her for their marriage ending, even though he would never tell her that. He had to keep some semblance of pride, didn’t he?
With a huff, Will began to pace. His Docs leaving large tread marks in the freshly fallen snow. “I see. Well, I have to say, thanks for waiting till after Christmas to shite on me. ‘Cause God knows right before the New Year is a much better time!”
“Look Will, don’t pull that crap on me! If you’d signed them when Lindsey originally sent them to you, it would’ve been during the summer. Six months ago!”
Will stopped pacing abruptly, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched while he fought against and eventually tamped down the intense, bottled up emotions screaming for release.
When Will started to pace, Buffy assumed her defensive, closed-off position. He finally stopped pacing and turned to face her. Will noticed the change in her instantly, her rigid back, her arms crossed over her chest, lips formed in a tight line, her gaze hardened and fixed on him. Several moments of silence grew between them only their breathing and the sounds of the night filled the air.
Will knew she would rather freeze then give in to him, so he relented. He closed his eyes briefly, breaking their stare. Despite how much he tried to deny their marriage was over, he knew he couldn’t any longer. The end was here, and he had to put on his big boy pants and face the inevitable.
“Okay, fine. I’ll sign the papers. But first, I need to finish what I started before you arrived. News bloke said tonight, and the next few days are supposed to be really cold ones. I don’t fancy havin’ to come out ‘ere to collect more bundles of wood.”
Buffy eyed her soon to be ex-husband briefly. She thought she had seen a glimpse of the old Will there for a moment, the man full of passion and fire, but as soon as he shown himself, he’d disappeared just as quickly. She decided since he was finally agreeing to do what she had been waiting six months for him to do, it was important to keep him on track and not try to discuss what she may or may not have witnessed.
“Good, you do that. Once your done, come in so you can sign the papers, then I’ll be outta your hair and on my way.” Releasing her stance, Buffy nodded her head and turned to walk toward the house where she’d planned on waiting for him.
“Wait, where you goin’? Unless you want to wait at least an hour before I’ll be able to sign them, then by all means head in. But if you want to get outta here faster, I suggest you help by bringin’ in some wood.” Will motioned to the woodshed while he informed Buffy of her options.
“No, that’s fine, I’ll wait. You’re a big boy. You can handle your wood all by yourself,” Buffy called offhandedly over her shoulder as she continued toward the house.
While Buffy ascended the stairs, Will’s sudden urge to have the last words had him yelling a response before his brain could stop them from coming out.
“Oh, you and I both know I’m a very big boy, and I’ll have you know I can handle my wood just fine all by myself! Been doin’ it a lot over the past year, thanks to you!”
Buffy stilled, while a small smile crept across her lips from his words. That was something the old Will would say, no question about it. She contemplated briefly whether she should respond. Knowing him like she did, she decided against it. Since her responding would only fuel him to talk more and that would make what needed to be done even harder to do. After her decision, she continued toward and up the stairs. She entered through the door, closing it firmly behind her.
Once the door closed the warmth of room, along with her memories, enveloped Buffy. With her gaze taking in all that surrounded her, she pulled off her snow-covered boots, jacket and gloves and began to wander around the room.
Looking around briefly, she instantly noticed he hadn’t changed a thing. Each piece of furniture, rug, and decorative accent was where she’d placed it three years ago. Buffy was amazed when she spied the throw pillows, the same ones he constantly complained about, hadn’t moved an inch. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips while she remembered how she mulled over every decision she made on each piece that went into the house. Everything from the furniture, to the flatware, to the sheets, was an important choice.
During the two month long weekend excursions, as Buffy dragged him from store to store, Will would constantly complain saying, “It’s only a bloody this or that, luv, just make a decision cause we have a thousand other things you have to decide on.” Knowing this to be true, Buffy would give him a thorough kiss, taking his breath away along with his complaints. She followed each kiss by whispered promises of pleasure when they got home. Once she pulled away, he would have a goofy smile on his face, and she knew she had another hour, maybe two before he would complain again.
Still exploring the room, Buffy caught a glimpse of herself as she walked past the large, oval mirror hanging on the furthest wall. Instantly, she noticed the crown of her head was completely soaked, and the snow that was once perched there was now melting and dripping onto the floor and the shoulders of her form-fitting black sweater. Feeling she had no right to go through his stuff, even though technically it was still their stuff, Buffy walked over to the window and briefly looked toward the woodshed making sure he was busy and not coming in anytime soon, before she quickly headed upstairs to the bathroom to retrieve a towel for her hair.
Turning on the light in the hallway, it felt like she hadn’t been away for two years. Everything still looked and felt the same, down to the silver framed pictures hanging on the walls. Entering into the bathroom, Buffy observed that this room had changed only in one way, instead of her beauty products littering the countertop only his toiletries were there. Reaching into the linen closet, she pulled out a fluffy, burgundy towel and headed downstairs quickly before the niggling from her curiosity about their, no his bedroom and what it looked like, got the best of her.
While descending the stairs, Buffy rubbed the towel briskly through her sodden locks. Once she reached the bottom, a loud thud from outside startled her. Walking cautiously to the window, she noticed Will stomping back down the stairs muttering to himself about getting no help and “bloody well shouldn’t be surprised.” With a snicker, Buffy headed over to the fireplace. Sitting by the hearth she began basking in the warmth given off by the flames.
Several moments later, another loud thud and more muttering followed. This time, strangely, she didn’t find it as funny. On the third thud, Buffy decided that despite not wanting him to see her visit more than what it was, it was really cold out there and if she wanted to get out of there quicker, helping him was the only way.
Before Will could drop the fourth bundle of wood, Buffy had redressed in her outerwear and exited the house. Without a word, she headed down the stairs and over to the woodshed to help him bring the wood onto the porch. Grabbing as much as she could carry, Buffy headed out. When she walked past, Will nodded his thanks to her. Twenty minutes passed before they had enough wood piled on the porch to last several days, even the really cold ones that were forecasted.
Breaking the lengthy silence as he ascended the stairs with his arms full with another bundle of wood, he spoke to Buffy who stood off to the side of the pile, brushing away stray pieces of wood shavings from her clothes. “’M gonna start bringin’ some of the wood inside, do you mind grabbin’ one more armful?”
“Yeah, not a problem.” Following her agreement, Buffy opened the door for him before she headed back down the stairs. Will, slightly taken back by her thoughtfulness, continued inside with the bundle of wood, closing the door behind him with his foot.
Entering the woodshed, Buffy chose a side to pull from. Standing before the pile, she squatted down slightly while carefully placing one log in the crux of her arm. The floodlights attached to the house, bathed the inside of the shed with enough light that a light fixture wasn’t needed. After carefully placing another log, Buffy reached out for the third. Her hand brushed against a stick or so she thought. The instant her hand touched it, it moved of its own accord and started to hiss. Buffy dropped the logs she held instantly and with a piercing scream, ran out of the shed.
Will, hearing Buffy screaming, dropped the logs he held, hurried to the door, pulling it open quickly. Leaving the door open, he had forgone the stairs, leaping down to the snowy path below. Once he landed, he ran toward the still screaming woman.
“Snake in the woodshed! Snake in the woodshed!” Buffy screeched, running straight toward him, her arms flailing. Due to the slick ground and Buffy’s overwhelming fear, she crashed into Will’s body with enough force to almost knock both of them down. He grabbed her and wrapped his hands around her upper arms tightly. This served two purposes, to steady her trembling body and attempt to calm her.
“What the bloody hell happened? You all right?” Will’s eyes darted quickly over her body trying to see if she had any injuries. Once his questions reached her ears, Buffy started to struggle.
“Snake in the woodshed!”
Despite Will being only an arms length away, Buffy repeated her earlier words in the same manner—screaming them. Her eyes were wide and wild as she continued to struggle, trying to break his hold so she could run as far away as possible.
“Wait here, I’ll check it out,” Will instructed trying to sound manly, even though snakes gave him the willies too. Before entering into the shed, he decided he needed a weapon of some sort. Noticing the perfect weapon, Will walked over to the stump that had his splitting maul’s blade imbedded into the top. Jerking on the handle, he pulled it out, and headed over to the shed. Walking in cautiously, he moved slowly toward a shelf that held a flashlight. Pulling it off the shelf, he turned it on, and moved the beam of light throughout the shed looking for the snake.
After several sweeps of the beam, he found the cause of Buffy’s screams. Despite the snake being curled into a tight ball attempting to remain unseen, its black beady eyes that reflected the light gave it away instantly. With a chuckle, he approached the snake and grabbed it before it could slither away. Will exited the shed, while the snake wrapped its agile body around his gloved hand. Holding his snake-adorned hand up in the air, he called over to Buffy, who was now inside, peering out the slightly opened door.
“Is this what caused all the yellin’? It’s only a Mountain King snake, Buffy. He’s just a harmless bloke, well, unless you’re a mouse or some such. There’s no reason to worry at all. Come out and give my snake a pet.”
After hearing Will’s suggestion, Buffy’s eyes widened before yelling her response. Despite the distance that separated them, he heard very clearly what her thoughts on that were.
“Go fuck yourself!”
Scoffing at her response, Will looked down at the animal coiled tightly around his hand. “Don’t feel bad, mate, she hasn’t petted my snake in a long time either. Well, can’t blame a bloke for tryin’. Ok, Mr. Snake, back to the woodshed with you. See you in the spring.”
Will turned and headed back to the shed, hearing Buffy slamming the door behind him. After placing the snake back onto the woodpile, he watched as it slithered away quickly, attempting to find another spot to hibernate in. Holding the splitting maul by the handle, he carried it to the porch and laid it against the significant pile he and Buffy had made. Standing on the threshold of the door, he banged his snow-covered boots together trying to shake off excess snow before heading inside.
Buffy had moved from the door, her outerwear gone, and she now was standing behind the kitchen counter. She held in her hand a large, cast iron skillet that was raised in the air. Her voice held a menacing quality as she threateningly waved the cookware toward him.
“I swear, William James Pratt, if you brought that fucking thing in this house, I will break every bone in your body! Kathy Bates’ character will have nothin’ on me, when I go completely Misery on you’re pasty ass!”
Despite her seemingly joking words, Will knew instantly by the intense look in her eyes she was completely serious. In order to calm her down, Will held up his hands showing her that he hadn’t brought the snake in. Buffy still didn’t believe him, so she made him turn out all his pockets, even the ones in his jeans, and turn over his boots. Finally, she lowered the skillet and placed it on the kitchen counter before going into the living room.
Sitting on the couch with a loud huff, she eyed him while he peeled off his wet jacket and gloves, before he headed over to the fireplace. Standing before the flames, Will held out his hands trying to soak up the heat as he silently hoped the feeling would come back to his frozen digits quickly. Following several moments with the chasm of silence between them growing, Will turned slightly toward Buffy while his hands remained raised basking in the flames.
“You know, they’re completely harmless. Haven’t you ever heard the sayin’, “Red and yellow kills a fellow. Red and black are safe for Jack?” Plus, do you really think I’m completely daft enough to be handlin’ a poisonous snake?"
Buffy’s meticulously shaped brow rose while she gave him a poignant look. He knew what her answer to that question was. Laughing briefly, Will ran his fingers through his hair. “Fine, I’m a bloody dolt and have done my fair share of stupid things.”
Suddenly, Will’s expression changed from one of humor to completely somber. As he spoke all the mirth was gone from his voice, replaced by a soft but firm tone, when he added, “But I would never purposely hurt you.”
Buffy knew that his words were referring to hurting her on levels, far deeper than scaring her with a snake. She could see all his emotions swirling around in his stormy blue eyes. Buffy swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat after becoming instantly lost in his gaze. Will always had a way to speak volumes without saying a word. It was his eyes. These two fathomless pools of blue were indeed the windows to his soul.
It suddenly became all too much, especially since she hadn’t seen passion in those eyes for so long. She had waited years after that horrible night for him to return to the man he was before, but he never did. Will had said “I’m sorry” countless times, in dozens of ways, and she had forgiven him. The problem was, he never forgave himself nor her for what had happened.
He kept himself in an emotional cocoon, never wanting to get too close. She believed he wanted to give the impression he was trying to protect her while he kept her at arm’s length, but she knew the truth. He couldn’t bear touching her, and he blamed her for what had happened. Each day, instead of this tragedy bringing them closer, they drifted further apart. Their once loving words became bitter and hurtful. Which lead, even in the sweltering heat of California’s summers, to cold days and even colder nights.
Lowering her eyes, she broke from their fixed gaze before she would become completely lost within his penetrating stare and forget the reason for her being there. She was there for one reason and one reason only, to finally end the suffering caused by anger and the distance between them. After all this time they both deserved to finally find some peace.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Before you say it, yes...another chapter! You'll see in the body of the story why I wanted to post it now. Also, since the last chapter was left on a somber note, I wanted to lift up your spirits for the New Year--hopefully. Big thanks to my beta Sanityfair. Any mistakes up and beyond her corrections are solely my boo-boos. Hope you all have a wonder New Year.
Chapter End Notes:
Yeah, I know not as uplifting as you would've liked, but I did try to make it funny--at least in the middle...right? Oh, if the "snake in the woodshed" seems deja vu-ish, it is one comes from one of many insane ramblings of Drusilla's. This was from Season 2 Angel episode Dear Boy. I know my usage of this was not how Dru intended it, when she was describing Angelus and Darla having sex, but I loved it so much and I feel I found a great way to use it! Reviews are loved and cherished!