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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.





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