Chapter 27: ‘Because I Want To’
A/N: Okay, I’m moving this up a notch, slowly, but surely. My time line here is a bit wonky, so please bear with me. This chapter, for those of you keeping up, begins about two weeks after the dance thing at Clem’s. We have to assume that Spike and Buffy have been seeing each other secretly off and on for the past two weeks whenever it’s possible. Sorry for scrunching up the time, but I’m running out of chapters and there’s still some ‘heavy’ stuff to come. Thanks, Luv, Spuf
Buffy closed the inventory log that her boss, Olivia, had her going over for the past three hours. She had been working at the Sunnydale Gallery for almost two weeks now and loved it so much that she hated having to leave to go home. Sadly, she found every minute away from her own husband quite freeing for some reason, especially the moments she was with Will.
As much as Buffy knew that her connection with Will was wrong on so many levels, she found ‘their’ time together, William’s and hers, to be liberating for her. William simply seemed to understand Buffy more, at this point in time, then anyone else in her life right now. Even Willow and Tara, who now ‘knew’ first hand that there was another man in her life, couldn’t fill the space that Will could, the need she had to be with him.
It was that simple and that scary for Buffy. Although Willow and Tara agreed to ‘cover’ for Buffy when necessary, they asked that she not tell them who this mystery man was, for now anyway. It simply made everything easier for everyone.
In fact, on this very Thursday night, Buffy had told Angel that while he went off to play golf, drink and God knows what, with Riley Finn, she was going out for ‘fun’ time with the girls. Actually, she was going to Will’s place for dinner and ‘conversation’ and she had spent more then a few evenings and days with him there. No matter what else in her life, Buffy was deeply grateful for the ‘friendship’ that Will and her had formed and she dreaded having to give it up. When Buffy joined Will at his apartment, she would park her car at an appropriate distance away.
He would pick her up and drive her to his apartment and they would eat some wonderful concoction he’d come up with, talk and inevitably sleep together. No matter how long they had together, sometimes just a few hours, Buffy came away from Will’s feeling a completeness in her life that she had not felt in a long time, maybe not ever.
“Hey, Princess,” Will called out to Buffy when she pulled up into the mall parking lot.
“Hi, Will,” she said shyly, somewhat embarrassed by her own bashfulness. No matter how much they shared together, Buffy was still shy around William; it didn’t make much sense, but there it was.
“Hungry?” he asked bluntly. “Always,” she replied just as bluntly.
When they got to his place, Buffy stepped in the front door and was met by the most wonderful aroma, “what’s for dinner?” she asked boldly.
“Quiche,” he replied simply, “and before you say one smart arse thing, yes, real men eat quiche.”
‘Apparently, they cook it too,’ she mused with a giggle.
“Oh, I know you’re a real man, William Giles,” she piped up even as she slipped off her pumps and curled up on the leather sofa. The smirk he shot her was more then enough of a response to her innuendo.
“How’s work?” he asked her, bringing her some wine in a glass.
“Great,” she answered truthfully, “exhausting for some reason, but in a good way.”
Spike plopped down closely beside her on the couch, wearing what he hoped was a dazzling smile.
The closeness of Buffy always made his black jeans fit just a bit tighter, especially in the crotch and he still felt embarrassed by this fact. As honest as he’d been with Buffy, Spike, deep down inside, still felt shy about how aroused she made him, just by talking to him.
“I’m going to not only be working on Thursday, every other Saturday and Monday, now I’m going to be showing up on Wednesday at the Gallery!” she told him, obviously more then pleased about this.
“That’s wonderful, Princess,” he murmered to her, tenderly pushing a strand of golden hair from her face.
Spike took a sip of his beer and looked at her, this remarkable woman that he loved more then life.
‘You keep doing it Princess,’ he thought to himself, ‘you just get more and more independent from that prick you’re married to. Pull further and further away from him until you ‘know’ you don’t need him at all. And I’ll be there, Buffy, for my one good day.’
“What?” he asked her out loud when he saw the inquisitive look on her pretty face. Her eyes were so wide and soft right that very minute, more so then ususal and he could tell there was something she wanted, no needed to talk to him about or ask him about.
“I was wondering something,” she began with shy hesitation, “actually, I’ve always wondered something about you.”
Spike smiled at her, “what? Ask away, luv,” he finished, sitting even closer to her, his hand on her thigh.
“I was wondering,” she stammered again, “when your Mom, Anne, went back to England with Drusilla and Guinevere, why didn’t you go with them?”
Spike felt like his heart would stop beating that very instant, but he swallowed, hard and tried to answer as best he could.
“I guess because England just wasn’t my home anymore, Princess,” he muttered, “if it ever really was.”
Buffy nodded, but she still looked confused so Spike tried to explain to her satisfaction.
“I mean, look,” he whispered, gruffly, “my own real Dad wouldn’t marry my Mum, even though she was pregnant with me. He was a real piece of work, that one, though Mum never says nothing against him. Some Royal Air Force bastard that couldn’t stick around long enough to give me a proper name.”
Buffy cringed, remembering back to that evening on the beach when she’d called Will that hurtful name, cutting him to the bone, she was sure. As if he read her mind, William took her hand in his, “it’s alright, Princess,” he murmered, “I realized a long time ago that I’m not the bastard, my real Dad was. And besides, Mum did alright for herself, marrying old Rupert and all. A damn sight better then if she’d been stuck with my real old man.”
This still didn’t answer her real question so she asked Will again, ‘why didn’t you go back with your Mom?’
Will stood up and got another beer, a ploy Buffy noticed he did when he had to ‘think things out’ in his head, before he answered her.
When he came back, he had that look of determination on his face, the one that told her he’d come to grips with whatever he was going to tell her.
“Buffy, luv,” he said softly as he took her hand again, “I stayed because I felt this was my real home now. That and I found it hard to look any of them in the eye anymore, Mum, Dru and poor Rupert, who insisted on adopting me when I was only three-years-old. After Rupert died, it was even harder for me to face my Mum and Drusilla, and little Guinevere was the hardest of all. I just couldn’t face the fact that I’d let them all down. I should have protected Drusilla more, like Dad and Mum tried to do. I failed them, Buffy, all of them.”
Buffy reached out and took his hand in her tiny one, “I bet ‘they’ don’t feel that way Will,” she whispered and kissed his cheek softly, “I know how much Drusilla loves you.”
‘And you,’ Spike mused to himself. ‘I wish I could tell you Buffy, how many times my poor little sis told me I had to stay here, in Sunnydale to protect you. My ‘golden Princess’ needed me more then she did, or my Mum, or Guinevere. She was right, Buffy, you needed me much more then anyone, even if you never knew it. Drusilla knew, she knew I could help free you, especially from that evil dark knight, Angel, as she called him. Dru always said that I was the shining white knight that would help Princess Buffy escape the dark knight’s evil power.’
“Besides,” Spike grinned at her, snapping out of his reverie, “we wouldn’t be here, now, together, like this, if I’d of left, right?”
Buffy grinned back at him, “true,” she chuckled, “selfish as that is, I’d miss out on our time together and I’m thankful for it Will, I am, truly.”
She sat for a moment and thought about what he’d said, about what ‘they’ now had together, then she finally got up the courage to ask her next question.
“Will,” she whispered, snuggling down into his arms, “all that junk you had on me, that awful, gross stuff you threatened me with…..”
Will suddenly flinched, she could feel his whole body tense up, “yeah,” he rasped.
“You never were going to give that to Angel, were you, Will. Never were going to use any of it against me. Any of it?” Buffy asked softly, all ready knowing the answer before he gave it.
“No,” he whispered huskily and she knew he was telling the truth, without even looking at him.
She turned to look up at him, her eyes slightly misted from tears, “good,” she whispered, stroking his cheek again, “because I want you to know something. You don’t have to hold me here, Will, I come here, to be with you, because I want to, not because I feel like I have to. Okay?”
He nodded, his own blue eyes misted with tears, “okay, Princess,” he whispered back to her lovingly, lightly kissing her forehead.
“I value our time together, Will,” she murmered as she kissed his lips gently, “it’s not much to say to you, not what you want, I know, but it’s a lot for me to share with you. I hope it’s enough, for now, anyway.”
Will pulled her closer, “it’s everything for now,” he murmered hoarsely.
Buffy began to run her soft full lips down the side of his left cheek, then to his neck and finally to his chest, which was conveniently bare. Spike only wore a pair of black jeans, nothing else, and was he ever thankful for that! Running her mouth down to his chest, Buffy ran her tongue over his nipples, something that she did that never failed to amaze or arouse him, fully.
“Keep it up, Princess,” he moaned, “and I’ll…..” but he didn’t finish because she had unzipped his jeans and pulled his penis out of it’s confines.
“You’ll what?” she purred as she ran her hot little tongue over the his other head.
“Jesus, Buffy,” he groaned even louder as she continued doing a most marvelous thing with her sweet mouth. He fought back a wave of jealousy, the one that asked, ‘where the bloody hell did she learn to do that so well?’ Instead, Spike just lay back against his couch, his hands clutching her head and let Buffy work her own special magic.
“I’m not going to last, baby,” he groaned again, his eyes half closed in pleasure.
Buffy paused long enough to quip with a smirk, “I think that’s the idea, Will,” and went back to what she’d been doing, so very well.
Just before he came, Spike begged Buffy to stop and come up to him, but she shook her head stubbornly.
“I mean it, Buffy,” he growled, “get up here, I want to be in you when I cum.”
Without waiting for her to make a move, Spike pulled her, carefully that is, up yanked her pants and knickers down, thrusting her onto himself in one smooth swoop.
“I said,” he growled again, “I want to be in you when I cum!” Then he began to kiss her mouth like a starving man.
“Will!” she cried as she came, her body shivering in pleasure.
Later, they lay, wrapped up in each other’s arms on the couch, both sated and drowsy. Buffy fought to keep her eyes open, but she was quickly loosing the battle.
Will just lay spooned up into her, their front sides together and slicked with pleasant wetness.
“Mmmm,” she purred against his chest.
“Bloody hell yeah, Mmmmm,” he echoed with a chuckle, stroking her damp hair. They lay there for a few minutes, just trying to calm their breathing when suddenly, William bolted up in a panic, “my quiche!” he cried.
Before he could untangle himself from Buffy, she clutched him to her and forced him to look at her . She knew her expression told Will of the sad desperation in her heart.
“This,” she rasped staring into his gorgeous blue eyes, trying to convey her inner fears, “it’s a mess, isn’t it?”
Will returned her gaze, but his eyes held a glimmer of hope, “yeah, Princess,” he whispered, kissing the end of her nose, “it’s a bloody mess, right now. But I’ll fix it, I promise.”
Spike paced around his apartment, like a nervous cat, or an expectant father. It was Sunday afternoon and he hadn’t seen Buffy since yesterday, Saturday evening, which by his standards was just way too long to go without her. His love had somehow convinced her moron husband that she worked ‘every’ Saturday at the Sunnydale Gallery, instead of every other Saturday or two and he was ever grateful for that.
Buffy could steal away from that prick, Angel, and spend her Saturday with Spike, however, it just killed him by inches, to have to let her leave his bed and go back home.
“Yeah, I know,” Spike grumbled to himself, lighting another cigarette, “Buffy ‘avoids’ dear old Angel, like the plague, at home, anyway, but……”
Spike wasn’t a stupid man, but he was a man in love, with a married woman. He looked at the beveled mirror above the entertainment center, “would you avoid Buffy sexually if you were her husband?” he asked his reflection. “Hell no!” his mirror image responded with a smirk.
Opening his third beer in an hour, Spike flopped down on his leather couch, the one he and Buffy had made love on Thursday. Yesterday, they’d actually made it to his bed, giggling and laughing all the way as Spike pulled every bit of clothing off of her, almost frenzied. Buffy’s little ‘this is a mess’ speech, regarding their affair, had alarmed him on Thursday. Oh, he’d reassured her it was alright, or was going to be, but Spike hadn’t totally explained just how or why it was going to work out for them.
“I think it’s time, mate,” he said to himself, even as he reached for his cordless phone.
Clem answered his home phone on the fourth ring, “what’s up, Spike?” the man asked cautiously.
“Angel’s luck just ran out,” Spike said answered evenly, “it’s time.”
Buffy wondered around her big two-storied house all day Sunday, just waiting for Angel to come home. He was out golfing, big surprise, with Riley, or some other generic club partner, this Sunday afternoon.
“Sometimes I think Angel’s in love with one of his caddies,” Buffy sighed as she sat down on her beloved sofa. It’s not that it mattered anymore, really, Buffy had come to grips a few weeks ago, that she was losing more then a passing interest in what Angel did lately. The problem was, Buffy had always been more then a tad afraid of the unknown, and until Angel came around, she would fret over what would happen when he did.
‘Would they fight, argue? Would her husband try to claim his marital rights? Did she want him to?’
“What a freakin’ mess,” she grumbled to herself, watching out the front bay window of her living room. Little Devon Jameson Jr. rode his tricycle down the sidewalk in front of her house, his dad following closely behind.
“I dated you, a couple of times in High School, Devon Jameson Sr.,” she chuckled to herself, “you kissed me in the back of the gym one day. Wonder if you remember that?”
Angel took that moment to come through the back door of their house, “Buffy!” he called out, slightly impatiently she thought.
“I’m in the living room,” she answered indifferently. Her husband strode into the room and right up to Buffy, “I have to go to LA tomorrow,” he announced, his expression was a mix of smug and apology. Buffy shrugged, “Dawnie missing SunnyD?” she asked.
He nodded then seemed to ponder something for a moment or two, “yeah, she’s missing Connor.”
She noted that she actually didn’t cringe this time when her young indiscretion was mentioned, “how special,” she merely muttered.
Then, “you know, Angel,” Buffy began, her voice just a little condescending, “I’m beginning to wonder if your two law partners might be thinking they’re missing a third wheel?” After all, Angel was out of the office and away from home an awful lot.
“It’s a business trip, babe,” Angel assured her, “for about a week. I’m going to clean up a little mess in LA, pick up Dawnie and bring her home about Sunday. The firm depends on me to ‘clean little disasters up, you know that Buff. I’d ask you to go with, but…..”
His smug expression made Buffy want to ‘yak’ but she controlled herself.
“Well, of course, I’m working,” she retorted, picking up the new copy of Sci-Fi Monthly from her coffee table, wondering why she even subscribed to the stupid thing anyway.
“Well of course,” he responded, the smugness in his tone fell about three levels. “Okay,” Angel responded, with a lot less bravado then before, “you work, I’ll work in LA and everybody’s happy, right?”
‘Right’ Buffy nodded without looking up at him again.
A/N: I had Buffy mention the fact that Angel is ‘out of the office’ a lot because it’s convenient for ‘me’ to have him gone as much as possible. Spuffy depends on it! In the next chapter, Buffy and Spike will go on a little getaway! Please read and review, even if it’s not ‘good’ news.
Thanks, Luv, Spuf
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