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Chapter 18: 'Working It Out'’


Angel got home from New York, as promised, early on Monday morning. He wondered into their house around 9:00 AM and Buffy tried to act excited about it. She was happy he was home, she was, but after everything that had happened in the last few days? She just couldn’t get that emotional over his appearance right now.

On one side, Buffy had a husband, who was probably screwing around on her with more then just one woman and as a wife, she felt betrayed and hurt. On the other side, she was basically being blackmailed by a sinister man into illicit sex; although it did help that said sinister blackmailer was extremely handsome, sexy and charming. Or maybe that wasn’t such a ‘help!’ As Yul Brenner would say in the ‘King And I’ “it is a puzzlement!”

Buffy made breakfast for Angel that morning herself, surprising half of the known world, she was sure. If anything was for sure in the Universe, it was for sure that Buffy did not cook, thus the hiring of Maggie. She hoped Angel wouldn’t think it too odd that his wife made his favorite breakfast; omelettes, toast and bacon, and might begin to really suspect something was amiss at home sweet home. But, he seemed genuinely pleased that she had gone to the trouble to fix all of his morning feast.

Apparently, William had convinced her husband that his darling wife, Buffy, was the epitome of married virtue and not to worry.

‘Score one for the home team’ she thought sarcastically to herself, as she poured another cup of coffee for her handsome husband. A guilty pang shot through her when she caught the adoring look in his eyes for her. ‘Remember,’ she told herself, ‘remember what he looked like screwing Cordy up against the Christmas gift you special ordered!’ That helped alleviate her guilt feelings, at least momentarily.

Angel, in an unprecedented move, decided to skip work for the rest of day and spend time at home with Buffy. It was going to be a very warm day and along with these surprising turn of events, he insisted that they take a swim together in the pool after breakfast. Buffy actually found herself looking forward to spending the early afternoon, on a weekday with her husband so she went upstairs to change into a bathing suit. When she emerged onto the patio, she found Angel lounging about on a lawn chair, wearing a pair of trunks that she’d lent to Connor once, when he was ‘coming around’ before.

A major ‘regret pain’ tore at her chest as she tried to look away from her husband and tried to forget how the trunks hung on the slim, innocent young Connor’s hips. Angel must have noticed her expression because he got a vexed look on his face and asked “what’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” she answered lightly as she pushed the guilt down as fast as she could. “Just haven’t seen those trunks for a while, seems like they’re a bit big on you, honey.”

She thought this was a good cover and marveled that she could lie so easily, “you must be losing weight, I guess I’m just worried. Maybe you’re working too hard?”

Angel chuckled and shrugged, “yeah, guess I am working a little to much and too hard.” He grew quiet for a moment then stood up from the chair and walked over to her. “Buff, what say we go out to that swanky restaurant this weekend. You know the one up the coast you love so much? Just you and me?”

He reached out and ran his large hand down the side of her face, then pulled her close to him. Buffy could have just cried from the sweet gesture of her husband, but she caught herself.

“Yeah,” she mumbled softly, just before he kissed her, “I’d really like that Angel.”

Angel smiled, obviously ‘pleased with himself’ that Buffy was so ‘pleased with him.’ Before she could say anything more, he swooped her up in his arms and threw her unceremoniously into the cool water at the deep end of the pool, then jumped in after her. He swam underwater right up to her and picked her up from her knees. After he placed her, giggling and splashing the water after him, on his big shoulders.

“Put me down!” she screamed with laughter, “right now, Angel, I mean it!” But he continued to carry her around on his shoulders, continuously threatening to toss her backwards into the water. As much as Buffy enjoyed this horseplay together, it was a painful reminder of their early married days when they did tease and have fun together. Buffy missed that; apparently, so did Angel because he continued the silly play until she simply fell off of his shoulders from laughing so hard.

When she came up for air, Angel picked her back up in his beefy arms and carried her out of the pool straight into the pool room. In no time at all, they were both naked and her husband was actually taking time to make love to her on the comfortable bench.

Buffy tried to concentrate on what Angel was doing right then, but she kept having disturbing flashbacks of her and Connor in that same pool room just weeks earlier. That’s when it dawned on her; William must have gotten evidence from some source of her affair with Connor from this very room.

‘How?’ she wondered, a growing uneasiness in her tummy. Even more disturbing, at least at this point, was the fact that her blackmailing buddy may very well still have that ‘source’ planted somewhere in the building. And, the most disturbing thing of all? Why was she thinking about William at all? The answer? Buffy felt guilty, like she was ‘cheating’ on Will.

Spike lay in his massive bed, alone, jealous and miserable. He had gone about his business that Monday morning, intent on not thinking about Angel being back from New York. However, about noon, he couldn’t help but drive by the Traver’s house, just to check up on Buffy, and noticed that ‘dickhead’s’ black Mercedes was parked in the driveway; which told him that Peaches (his favorite nickname for Angel, besides the profane ones) had stayed home from work that day, with Buffy. Spike’s Buffy; his woman, not anyone elses, just his. Of course, the truth was Buffy ‘was’ married to Angel, not him, but…….

After he’d driven by their house, he drove to the nearest bar and proceeded to drink enough to feel better, but still be sober enough to drive home. At his apartment, which he usually really liked, he moped about for an hour before raiding his rather well stocked bar and drinking a pint of whiskey. All the while, he tried, without success, to block out the visuals of ‘his’ Buffy with ‘her’ husband having sex together.

“I hate that fuck!” he muttered as he stumbled from the bed, clad only in boxers and poured himself another straight drink. “He bloody waltz’s back into town and fucks my girl, like he has the right!”

If he’d been more sober, Spike would have seen the ridiculousness of the whole situation. After all, Angel and Buffy were married, whether ‘he’ Spike liked it or not; Angel did have the right to fuck Buffy.

“She just doesn’t have the right to fuck him!” he reasoned (or didn’t reason as the case may be). In any event, he was piss ass drunk, alone without Buffy and had no idea when he would see her again. “I’m so fucked!” he moaned just before he passed out on the couch.

Buffy and Angel went to bed early that night after an evening of good food, at home, and some DVDs. For the first time in months, Buffy felt at ease with her husband and had regained some hope that perhaps they could work their marriage out. Angel snored loudly beside her while she lay on her back and stared at the ceiling above them.

“Maybe we can work it out,” she pondered as she counted the ceiling tiles, trying to grow too weary to stay awake. “Maybe if I get pregnant, give Angel an heir and make the whole damn family proud for once. Maybe things can work out for the best?”

A nagging feeling, deep in her tummy, was working it’s way up into her chest and throat. ‘Will isn’t going to let this go that easy,’ she surmised as she glanced nervously at her husband asleep beside her. He’ll make this as difficult as possible; ego alone will push William into keeping me. It’s his nature.’

But there was more, Buffy realized that, William was obsessed with her, no question, and of all of the ‘destructive’ emotions in the world, excluding perhaps jealousy? Obsession was the strongest.

Spike woke up in an alcoholic daze at around 2:20 AM on Tuesday morning. “Buffy,” he groaned into the air. He got up, shakily from the couch where he’d fallen in a stupor and stumbled back to his bed. When he fell backwards into the mattress, he found himself staring right at the ‘picture’ on the wall of his bedroom. It was the only picture he had anywhere in his bedroom and it was of Buffy. Her hazel eyes were bright and huge as she stared into the photographer’s camera. The smile on her face reflected a simpler, happier time for Buffy. She was still only seventeen-years-old, her Senior picture, and she glowed with all of the promise that ‘their’ futures still held. Before all of that crap at the Delta Kai party, before Parker Abrams or college and eventually Angel; she was still William’s Princess Buffy.

This picture was the only one he had of her ‘solo’ and he treasured it, especially since he’d nicked it from Angel’s house at graduation. That he savored; made it all the sweeter. “Spike,” he sighed to himself, “you ‘are’ a pathetic bastard!”


A/N: A couple of ‘problems’ here. First off, when I originally wrote this story, I didn’t have Buffy feeling guilt or anything over Spike until much later. I think I wrote the ‘using’ stuff too soon, but I wanted to follow some kind of BTVS canon. I can’t feel too sorry for Angel as I’ve always thought he was self absorbed from the get go, my opinion only. Secondly, if you are reading this story, I’ve written Buffy into a corner, I’m sure of it so I’m going to have to tread carefully to get her out of it! Thanks for reading, please review. Luv, Spuf





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