Buffy Summers entered Jaded, the new popular club in Boston feeling carefree and happy. She was back home, finally. It felt like it took forever to get back there, and despite her brief respite, she’d been welcomed back with open arms by the friends who’d stood at the end of her driveway and waved her off. Well, all but her best male friend, Alan Francis Doyle. Doyle was on vacation and due back in a few days.

“See? This is a first you can experience with all of us,” Willow, her best friend, or rather one of her best friends, told her as they found a table toward the back of the loud and packed club.

Buffy smiled, “Cool. Then maybe we can all have a new hang out to go to. I started a trend.”

Willow agreed, brushing her long red-hair from her face. “This place is so much better than Lust. That place has gone downhill.”

“I have a vague recollection of it.”

“How so?” Willow asked, tilting her head to the side, her green eyes inquisitive.

“Faith used to sneak us in.”

“I never did that with her!”

Buffy grinned, “She got me a fake I.D. She was a bad influence on me back in the day.”

“Of course she was.”

“And now,” Buffy sighed, “She’s met Robin Wood and she’s all on the straight and narrow.”

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Yep, it is," Buffy said and when Willow started for the bar, she muttered, "Maybe she can teach me how to do it."

*******

“So, let me get this straight,” Buffy began after she and Willow had gotten drinks. “You became friends with crazy Anya Jenkins after I left.”

“Right,” Willow said, nodding.

“And so instead of me, you and Faith, it became you, Anya and Faith.”

“So far, you’ve gotten it,” Willow grinned.

”And then, Anya met weird Xander Harris and started dating him.”

“Right again.”

“And now they’re doing the meeting of the friend’s things tonight. Here. On my first night home.”

“Oh come on. You moved all day. How fun could that be? You need a night out. And it’s Saturday, you have all day to recoup before you start work on Monday, you big English professor, you.”

Buffy grinned. “I know, I know, but I was kind of hoping to have a night with just the girls, ya know? Catch up and all that.”

“And we’ll do that. Tomorrow. When I have you all over, sans Anya, for dinner.”

“Oh, is that right?” Buffy teased, tossing her almost waist length golden blond hair over her shoulder.

“That’s right. For a big old-fashioned dinner at my apartment. Then we can catch up in the right way. Who knows, maybe Xander will bring some cute men we can all fawn over and then commiserate tomorrow about them just like we used to do with the morons we went to high school with.”

“That’s encouraging. Xander is one of those morons we went to high school with. He probably still hangs with the same crowd.”

“Well, we’re adults now. We don’t need to be all clique-y.”

“I was never clique-y,” Buffy pointed out. “I was friends with just about everyone. Or at least I tried to be.”

“So, that’s why you called Xander a weirdo?”

Buffy giggled, “I said I tried to be.”

“Oh, here comes Faith and Robin,” Willow announced, looking over Buffy’s shoulder.

“B!” Faith shrieked when she saw Buffy, and ran over arms wide open, leaving her boyfriend in the dust. Faith’s shoulder length dark hair was flying behind her, her brown eyes sparkling in merriment.

Buffy shrieked back and ran to meet the girl, the two girls, forever best friends, hugging and jumping up and down, talking a mile a minute trying to catch up.

“I’m so happy you’re back. You don’t even know. California was way to far away for me,” Faith told her honestly.

“I know what you mean,” Buffy said, nodding in agreement. “But I had to wait, you know? I had to make sure I got myself to a point where I had free reign to ‘move about the country’.”

“You sound like an Expedia commercial,” Faith laughed.

“I do, don’t I?”

“So, how are the new digs? Must be pretty sweet for a genius professor.”

“I’m not a genius,” Buffy scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.

“B, Yale wanted you. They sought you out. And you what? Said no so you could teach at –“

“Boston University. Just as prestigious if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t, but okay.”

The girls giggled.

“Let me introduce you to my man, here,” Faith said, breaking away from Buffy and extending her arm, to wave Robin over.

Robin, was a tall, black man who looked pretty prestigious himself. Very handsome with a warm smile, he shook Buffy’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Buffy.”

“Thank you, I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” Buffy said graciously. “Never thought anyone could tame the wild one here,” and she jerked her thumb to Willow.

“Hey now, I’ve heard some stories from you, missy,” Faith admonished.

Buffy groaned, “Let’s not get into that.”

“Yeah, we’ll save that for tomorrow,” Willow said knowingly, and then chirped, “Oh, hey, here comes Anya…and an entourage.”

********

Anya was a petite blond girl with big expressive blue eyes that basically said whatever came to mind. She was in journalism, which Buffy was sure worked out well for her. She was bubbly and full life and energy and her boyfriend, the former weirdo, Xander Harris, seemed to adore her.

“He’s had a calming effect on her, believe it or not,” Willow informed Buffy as they spied the two dancing on the dance floor.

“Wow, that’s her calm?” Buffy laughed.

“What do you think of the red head he brought?” Willow asked, nonchalantly looking in the shorter man’s direction.

“He’s cute. I like the spiked hair. Oz, right?”

“Yeah, what a name.”

”Oz and Willow…” Buffy mused, “I like it.”

Willow blushed. “I’ve noticed that blond hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”

Buffy groaned and grimaced. “I’m not looking for a man.”

“What does it hurt to talk to him?”

“My track record is not ‘just talk to him’. My track record with men has been deplorable, and I’ve finally stuck to my guns and got on the straight and narrow. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Well, your streak might just be up. Here he comes,” and with that, Willow vanished.

Buffy turned to her, to stop her, when the bleached blond halted her by saying hi. She did a quick look at his ring finger, habit now, and noted he was not married. Good sign. He was hot, she had to admit, and she’d avoided him like the plague for that very reason. Her and hot men did not mix. Her and hot men, were unmixy. She did nothing but find herself in over her head in trouble with them.

He was tall and had been introduced as Spike, which she naturally assumed was his nickname. He was tall and lean, with azure eyes that were actually quite hypnotizing. He seemed to have an affinity for the all-black look, which just stressed to Buffy that he was most likely a bad boy, and definitely off-limits. But, hey, she was out to have fun and there was nothing wrong with being polite, right?

Just talk, Buffy. Just talk, she told herself and said hello back.

“So, I heard you had left Boston for a while,” Spike said easily, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Fuck me, he’s got a British accent, Buffy thought, cringing inside. Accents, but especially British ones, were her weakness.

“I had,” she paused and pointed at him, “Did I know you in high school?”

“I knew you,” he said smiling, “I don’t know if you knew me.”

“What’s your real name?”

“William Giles.”

She thunked her forehead with the heel of her hand and he laughed. “I remember you! Sort of. You’re much different now.”

He grimaced, “Yeah, I got rid of the mop of hair and the glasses.”

“Those your real color?” she asked, peering up at his eyes.

He smiled and leaned in closer until he was just a hairsbreadth away. “Yes.”

She reared back, “Sorry.”

He chuckled, “That’s okay, luv. Hey, at the risk of sounding completely clichéd, can I buy you a drink?”

“Uh, how about a Coke.”

“Coke?”

“Yeah, I just want a Coke.” Cause I am so not going to get drunk and sleep with you!

He nodded quickly, “Coke it is then.”

********

After doing the proverbial, ‘what happened to so and so in high school?’ they moved on to what they were doing now.

“I’m an English Professor,” Buffy told him. “I moved at the end of my junior year in high school—“

“I remember,” Spike smiled shyly.

She ignored that and continued, “And after high school, I attended University of Southern California. They had a really great program, and after that, I applied to Northwestern for my Masters, and then went back to USC to get my Doctorate. I stayed there to teach for a while and I fell into traveling during summer vacations and lecturing with some of my fellow professors. That got me some nods and I applied to BU once I felt that I had enough experience to qualify for them under my belt.” She blushed and looked away. “God, I’m sorry. I sound like a pretentious snob, don’t I?”

“No, luv, not at all. You sound like someone who’s found her passion in life. You sound as if you’ve worked very hard. There’s nothing wrong in being proud of that.”

“Thanks,” she grinned shyly. “What do you do?”

“I’m the VP for a Marketing firm.”

“You know, I’ve always been curious about marketing. Do you get to have big pow-wow’s and come up with ideas for your clients and then pitch them?”

He chuckled, “Pretty much, yeah.”

“They must die over your accent.” As soon as she said that, she wanted to kick herself. Blushing, she looked away, pretending she was checking up on her friends, who were….all over the club somewhere.

Putting his hand under her chin, a completely swoon-worthy move to Buffy, he made her look at him. “The accent helps…You don’t have any reason to be shy, Buffy.”

“I just sometimes don’t think before things fly out of my mouth. Kind of like Anya, but I like to think I have a little more tact.”

“I think a phone sex operator has more tact than Anya,” Spike said matter-of-factly.

Buffy grinned, taking his wrist and moving it away from her chin. God, he was warm, and he smelled so good…Just talk Buffy.

He gripped her hand in his, startling her. “You have soft skin,” he murmured.

“Uh, thanks,” she said watching their hands entwine. Either he was really smooth or he was really sincere. She hadn’t figured out which yet, which was surprising considering how she’d had a crap ton of experience with the smooth ones. Once more, she checked his ring finger.

“Am I making you uncomfortable? Sorry.” And he dropped her hand as if he’d been burned.

She swallowed hard, “Um, you know, I think I could use a real drink now. Want anything?”

“I’ll get it.”

If you insist.

********

It was decided that the ‘party’ would move to Xander’s. Buffy wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea and started to back out when Willow begged her to go, making her feel guilty. Oh what the hell, she thought. I can have a chat with the girls on the way and just tell them to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.

Except, her plan fell through when Willow went with Oz, Xander and Anya, and Faith begged off, claiming she wasn’t feeling well. That left her and Spike to go alone. Together.

It’s just a drive, get over it, she scolded herself as he led her to his black vintage DeSoto.

For some reason, she figured he would have something old and sorta ugly, but she didn’t care much about material things like that. As long as something got her from Point A to Point B, she was all set.

The car ride over they chit chatted about their favorite places in Boston, and once at Xander’s they sequestered off from the group out onto Xander’s balcony and chit chatted about his time in England (moved when he was only 10), and her stay in California. They had gotten onto the subject of the places they’d most like to visit, and Buffy admitted she would love to see England and visit all the places that her favorite British authors had been.

That excited Spike, and animated, he told her about the different places he’d been when he’d gone back and visited a few summers before.

There they sat, in the cool mid October air, talking as if they’d known each other for years. Buffy allowed herself to relax, to put her guard down and just enjoy herself fully.

That was when, of course, he kissed her.

And it wasn’t just any kiss. It was mind bending. Earth shattering. It was the best kiss she’d ever received in her life ever. She found herself pulling on his leather duster, to bring him closer to her, and the next thing she knew, she was on his lap and they were kissing the hell out of each other. His tongue…ooh, she wondered what that tongue could do in other places. When his hand moved to cup her breast, she shuddered in anticipation.

“Want to go?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yeah, my place?” she asked just as breathlessly.

“Yeah.”

And off they went.

********

They claimed exhaustion as their excuse to leave, Spike gallantly saying he would drop Buffy off at home, and Buffy yawning intermittently for good measure. Willow made her promise to call and happily whispered that she really liked Oz. Giving her friend a hug, and saying good bye to the rest of the gang, Spike and Buffy took off.

In the stairwell to his car, they stopped at each landing and made out, grinding against each other. Buffy was ready to take him there if her fear of getting caught hadn’t been an issue.

In the car, they made out before he even started it, and then at every light, and then once again when they pulled into her apartment parking lot.

Running and dragging him up the four flights of stairs, not having the patience to wait for the elevator, Buffy took him into her not yet decorated, boxes everywhere, and scarcely furnished apartment.

It didn’t matter. She wanted him inside her, and she wanted him inside her now.

After flinging their jackets off in the living room, she drug him into her bedroom and pushed him onto her bed, that she did make with maroon sheets and a white and maroon flowered bedspread with matching pillows, Buffy straddled him, purring when he cupped her bottom and pressed her up against his burgeoning erection.

“You’ve got me so hot,” she murmured, sucking on his neck.

“Feelings mutual,” he muttered and slid his hands under her long skirt with the slit up the side, sought out her very wet center, and stroked her through her red thong.

Nearly tearing off his shirt in her haste to see him in all his naked glory, she latched onto a nipple and sucked hard, causing him to arch his back and groan. Grabbing her hair in his fist, he brought her back up to him and kissed her hard. Rearing up, she flung off her white top and bra, sending both flying, and he suckled at her breasts the second they were free.

He rolled her onto her back and gazed down at her hotly. “I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you,” he told her.

She decided to believe him.

“And now,” he drawled, leering down at her, “I want nothing more than to sample that pussy of yours.”

She nearly came at his words and she tried to think of the last time she’d had sex…Three months? Four? She couldn’t remember, but all she knew was that she was about to go off like a rocket just by his words.

He discarded her skirt, but kept on her boots, and tore her thong off. He dangled it from his finger and cocked his head to the side. “I think you knew you’d meet me. Red is my favorite color.”

Buffy grinned, “Must be fate.”

“Must be,” he said grinning and moved her so that she was spread like a buffet before him.

Oh yeah, his tongue was a thing to marvel at. Men all over the world should take lessons from him. He was glorious. Twirling her pleasure pearl around with his pointed tongue, and then suckling it hard, Buffy was squirming and panting his name in no time. Then twirling her clit and sliding a long finger in her pussy, curling it just right so he hit her g-spot, Buffy went off like a rocket.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped, feeling as if her body was on one long orgasm, especially when he didn’t stop what he was doing and sent her into another one.

Pushing him with her boots lightly, she leaned up on her elbows and crooked her finger at him, “Give me that cock, now.”

He stood, grinning like a Cheshire cat and undid his pants slowly. Slo-owly, he undid the button to his black jeans, slo-owly he unzipped his pants. He did it all so slow for her, that Buffy started fingering herself to relieve the tension he was creating in her.

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot,” Spike groaned, watching her intently. “Oh, yeah, baby, fuck yourself.”

“My mouth wants your cock,” she told him, “Come here now.”

That was all it took for him to shed his jeans completely. She lay back and crooked her finger at him again. Grinning, he shimmied up her body on his knees. He gazed down at her breasts and looked at her.

“I want to titty fuck those later. Can I?”

“Definitely,” she breathed, and finally, she was able to get his gorgeous manhood in her mouth.

She devoured him, just the way she wanted. She moaned around him as she engulfed him and he moaned in response. Swirling her tongue around his mushroom head that she was sure was as big as her fist; she started jacking him off with her hand. He had to be at least nine inches, and he was so thick, her jaw, she was sure, was going to ache after a while.

“Christ,” he muttered, “That feels so good.”

“Mmmm….” She moaned and tried her hardest to deep throat him.

It wasn’t going to happen…At least not tonight, she thought with a grin.

His pre-cum was divine, a mixture of salty and sweet. Cupping his balls in her hands, she moaned when he grunted. Too soon, he was pulling away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly, wiping at her mouth.

“I want inside you,” he told her gruffly.

She smiled wide. When he was positioned between her legs, and his mushroom tip was teasing her folds, Buffy looked up and into his eyes, finding him watching her.

“I think I dreamt you,” he whispered.

“Do it,” she told him and he slid slowly inside her.

God, she could feel him in every part of her.

“Fuck…you feel so good…so fucking tight,” he murmured watching him inch inside her.

“Yes,” she gasped.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her, stopping his entrance inside and just rocking his hips slightly, fucking her with at least six inches.

“Screw that,” she muttered and pushed herself against him, taking him all in. She gasped as it did hurt a little, but oh God, it was divine.

“Christ!”

“Oooh…fuck me now, Spike, please…”

Growling, he pulled back and lunged forward, slamming into her.

Oh. My. God. He was so deep inside her, it was unlike anything she’d felt before.

The sound of slapping skin, moans and groans filled the large room as Buffy and Spike mated hungrily and passionately, their passion rising and rising with each thrust and parry. He was filling her senses, drowning her in him, until all she could feel, see and hear, was him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted as she met his hard thrusts. He was pounding into her now and her orgasm was imminent, her g-spot was receiving full attention and just one more…

“Spike!” she shouted and came, nearly passing out from her climax, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

He was close behind, roaring her name so loud, she was sure her neighbors could hear. He jerked, once, twice, three times, spurting deep inside her, bathing her cervix with his juicy cum.

He collapsed against her, burying his face in her neck and nuzzling her there for a minute before rolling off.

Looking over at one another they giggled like school kids. Buffy didn’t know about him, but that had been the best sex she’d had in her entire life. And if she smoked, she would sure light one up at that very moment.

“I’m hungry now,” Buffy announced.

“I’m thinking since you just moved in, you don’t have any food.”

“Want a pizza?”

He grinned, “You gonna make one?”

“Yeah, I’m that good,” she laughed.

He leered at her, eyeing her up and down. “Oh, I bet you are.”

Despite what they’d just done, Buffy found herself blushing. “I’m not a slut, really.”

He blinked, “What?”

“I just don’t…well; I have, but not anymore. You broke my self –inflicted chaste period.”

Rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand, he smiled smugly. “I’m glad I could have something to do with that.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, I’m sure.”

“Why did you self-inflict yourself with chastity?”

To tell or not to tell, that was the question. Deciding she didn’t want him to think she was a complete tramp, despite how quickly she’d jumped into bed with him, Buffy smiled secretively and shook her head.

“How ‘bout that pizza?” she asked him, crawling out of the bed. Ooh…she was sore in the most delicious way.

“Sure, pet. One condition though.”

She looked over at him over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

“You don’t hide that gorgeous body from me.”

She smiled. “I’m not an exhibitionist, Spike.”

“Nothing wrong with being comfortable in your own skin, pet. I find it sexy when a woman is comfortable in her own nudity.”

She smirked at him, “Good thing I don’t have to worry about impressing you then isn’t it? Seeing as how I already got you in my bed.”

Buffy heard him chuckling as she dug in her open suitcase and found a pair of gray yoga pants and a pink t-shirt. Turning to him, she found him watching her intently as he slipped on his black jeans.

“But, Spike, I thought there was nothing sexier than being comfortable in your nudity.”

“Don’t fancy being the only one naked, pet.”

She grinned knowingly. “Follow me. I have the TV set up if you want to watch something while I order. What do you want on your pizza?”

“I’m easy, anything you want is fine.”

Spike made himself comfortable in her cream colored suede couch, flicked on her flat screen TV and began the typical male channel surfing routine. The not really seeing what was on, but just pausing on it for half a second, as if that smallest increment of time could tell him anything about the program, before moving on.

She studied him as she ordered a large extra cheese pizza with pineapples, and two liters of Coke. He’s so handsome, she thought. Freaking hot, really. Oh, God, I’m going to be a girl about this. . . I don’t want this to be just a one-night thing…Not like I ever wanted any of those one-night things to be one-night things, but I really don’t want this to be a one-night thing. He’s so smart and easy to talk to. Sexy and funny… We could be friends at least…even if having sex just negated that.

“You’ve got a really nice place, pet,” Spike told her when she sat down next to him.

“Thanks. It’s a lot bigger than I thought.” Looking around the room, she perused her spacious apartment. The living room was the biggest part of it and then it went into a small dining room and then the kitchen was just down the hall. She already had ideas for how she wanted to decorate, but God only knew how long that was going to take. The only thing she’d managed to do that day besides make her bed, was separate the boxes into groups of where she had the idea she wanted things to go. Her eyes fell onto the group of at least five large boxes stacked tall in front of the built in bookcase that was quite literally from the bottom to almost the ceiling. Just the way she liked them.

Spike got up and ventured over to where she was eyeing and he put his hand on an opened flap. “May I?”

She nodded and he opened it, peering inside. “Are all five of these books?”

She nodded, “Yep.”

“My God.”

“What did you expect?” she giggled, “I teach British literature.”

He dug his hand in and extracted a book, and then peered inside again. “You have two different copies of Frankenstein.”

“There are two different versions with only minimal differences. If you blinked, you’d miss them.”

“Wow, pet…you’re a real nerd huh?”

She burst out laughing. “Yeah, I am. But you know, you seem to know a lot about literature too, so I wouldn’t be casting stones if I were you.”

He grinned, looking to her suddenly like a little boy.

He came over and sat down next to her once more, pulling her onto his lap in one easy maneuver. She sighed contentedly when he started nibbling on her ear and ran a hand down her arm.

“I’m glad I came out tonight,” he told her huskily.

“I’m glad you did too,” she replied when he palmed a breast, flicking his thumb across her already hardening nipple.

He was trailing kisses down her neck when the doorbell rang. They both groaned and Buffy reluctantly got up from his lap, grinning when she saw him already sporting an erection.

They ate on the floor, Buffy having dug in some boxes for plates and glasses and a dishtowel to use as a napkin when Spike told her he’d cover the pizza. It was cozy and Buffy started imagining him coming over often, even helping her carry furniture up to her apartment.

Maybe I need to slow down, she thought after they’d ate and she was putting the leftovers in the fridge. She leaned against the counter and gave herself a pep talk to not get carried away so fast. They’d had sex, he had made no promises to her, and she had made no promises to him.

God, she was a mess underneath it all, wasn’t she? She really hoped she wasn’t coming off as clingy in any way and drive him from her, and she really, really hoped he wanted to spend the night…

She wanted to be like Faith was now with Robin: Settled in with one man that treated her like a Queen. She was done with all that other crap, it never led to anything worthwhile, only to misery. She had never considered herself to be so untamed, but her past told otherwise. She had been living like the old Faith: wild, promiscuous and getting herself into more drama than she could handle.

She’d partied hard while in California. She’d had one-night stands, flings with guys that had girlfriends – despite how hard she’d tried not to, and more failed relationships than she cared to count. Men, she discovered were liars, and some would stop at nothing to get a piece of ass. And times when she was so fucked up on Ecstasy or alcohol, her better judgment – did she have any then? – went out the window.

Her lifestyle had started to catch up with her though shortly after her first year of work at the college. She wasn’t content with flings anymore, she wanted the real thing. A real relationship. The problem was, she’d made somewhat of a name for herself, so when she told potential boyfriends she wasn’t looking for a fling, they’d fed her lines, told her what she wanted to hear, and then left when they got what they wanted. A few had even put up with a few dates to get to the prize of banging her and then tossed her aside quickly after.

She hated what she’d become and had sunk into a depression. She felt unloved, uncared for and desperate to hold onto anything that could make her feel worthwhile. She felt at the end of her rope and had started seeing a psychologist to figure out where the hell she’d taken such a wrong turn, and how she could get back on the right path.

It was not meant to be.

Her doctor had started out as a great help, and she realized now, looking back, that she had fixated on him as someone that was going to fix her. It hadn’t taken her long to develop a crush on him, and then later, sleep with him.

The kicker: He was a married man.

She’d thought she’d hit rock bottom before, but nothing compared to how she felt after that. That was rock bottom. In an instant, and that was all it took, she’d put a stop to it all. No more partying, no more men, no more alcohol. She was going on the straight and narrow. She applied to BU and had taken it as a sign when she got the job that this was her chance to start life over. Buffy was determined to be the educated woman she was, and to leave that other crap behind her. She would keep her head on straight, and she would put an end to all that craziness. It was just too much for her.

And what better place to start over than the home she’d had to leave, and with the friends that she knew would help her through it all. She hadn’t let them know too much; for she felt ashamed because of it…she didn’t want much of anyone to know. What was the point? She wasn’t that girl anymore.

Except now, she’d had what psychologists and AA members would call a relapse. Spike had to hold some kind of bizarre power. Maybe he cast a spell on her. Perhaps she really was still a wild child, and that all her longing for a real relationship that was more than just sex, but real companionship, was all just a pipedream. Maybe she really wasn’t made for that sort of thing.

The thought brought tears to her eyes. No, she was more than that. She was made for more than just flings. She was meant to have real and true great love. And that’s all she wanted.

Love.

It was what made the world go round wasn’t it? The Beatles said that love was all you needed after all.

“Buffy?”

She looked up to find Spike standing in the doorway. “What’s wrong luv?”

“What? Oh, sorry, I’ve been taking too long to stick a pizza in the fridge huh?” she said, chuckling nervously.

He came over to her, concerned, and wiped at her face, extracting a tear. “What’s this all about?”

You really don’t want to know.

“I guess just …leaving and all caught up with me.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Change is just…it’s hard.”

He sighed heavily. “Don’t I know it,” he muttered knowingly.

“Oh?”

He grinned smoothly. “Story for another time.”

“Another time?”

“Yeah, you’re not giving me the brush off are you? Didn’t fancy you that kind of girl, pet.”

Now she thought she might really cry. “I’m really not.”

“That works out well then.”

They had sex again that night before calling it a night. This time, it was slower, even gentler, Buffy thought. Before it had been a mad rush of need and desire, this time it was as getting attuned to each other’s bodies, learning what turned them on, what made them moan and what made them out of their mind for the other.

Buffy watched him as he fell asleep and all she could think with a smile on her face was: There’s going to be another time. This isn’t it.

Buffy’s body clock was still on California time, and so it was fairly early that she woke up, despite how exhausted she’d been the night before with the move, the going out, and Spike.

Speaking of Spike, he was nestled up behind her, one hand cupping her breast, and the other under his pillow. His semi-hard cock was nested between her buttocks and she sighed with happiness. Wriggling a bit to get more comfortable, she felt his cock harden some more.

Smiling mischievously, Buffy rolled away from him and then faced him. He rolled onto his back, one arm flung up over his head. She just studied him for a minute, her heart warming at the sight of him. He was a real man.

Flipping the sheet that barely covered him off, she beheld the prize she sought. His cock. She perused his naked body languidly, studying every indent and muscle. Unable to help herself, she used her tongue to trace his six pack and he stirred slightly. Encouraged, her desire for him growing with every passing minute, she trailed kisses down, down, down, until she reached his erection. Immediately, she engulfed it in her mouth.

Determined to deep throat him this time, Buffy took a deep breath and relaxed her throat muscles and went for it with gusto.

Success!

A second later, she felt his fingers in her hair and his breathy moan was of her name.

Bobbing back up to the tip, she licked his sensitive underside and the fingers in her hair tightened. Sucking hard on the head for a second, she went back down, deep throating him once more and fondling his balls.

His head was still on the pillow, his head thrashing. He was gorgeous to watch, and she wanted him to cum in her mouth.

Doubling her efforts, she bobbed her head up and down the length of him while jacking him off with one hand and then deep throated him. She continued the process a few more times, and then boldly, stuck her finger in his ass.

“Buffy!” he shouted and spewed in her mouth gobs of cum.

She drank it all down happily, cleaned him up with her mouth while he came down from his orgasm, and then climbed up his body, straddling him.

“Good morning, Spike,” she said cheekily, smiling broadly.

He gazed up at her, his eyes half mast. “You’re amazing,” he gasped.

“Am I?”

“Yes,” he said, and rolled them so that she was now on her back.

Curling her hand around his head, she brought him down for a heated kiss that all but swallowed her whole. When they broke for air, an errant hand was making the path down her body and nestling in her the apex of her thighs.

“Open for me, luv,” he instructed gently and she obliged him willingly.

Circling her clit with his finger, he bent his head and suckled at a breast, swirling his pointed tongue around a hardened nipple.

“Oh fucking God,” she moaned.

“That feel good?” he murmured and suckled her other breast in his mouth.

“Yes,” she hissed and bucked her hips up to meet his finger, needing more friction. Instead of giving it to her, he traced her nether lips with his wet finger and then sunk it inside her for a second before circling back round to her clit.

His touch was light on her clit, and she was going mad. It was just enough to have her squirming under his ministrations.

Grabbing his wrist, she tried to get him to apply more pressure, to finger fuck her, to do anything to get her off the precipice he had her so soon dangling from.

“Baby want something?” he asked coyly.

“I want more,” she all but growled and he chuckled.

In a flash, he was between her legs, tracing her lips with his tongue and she nearly screamed her frustration. Just when she was about to pull his hair to force him to where she needed him, he suckled her clit in his mouth and slid a wet finger slowly and gently up her ass.

She came instantly, screaming his name.

He licked caressed her as she came down, resting his head on her thigh. When her breathing was even, he looked up at her with concerned blue eyes. “Was that all right what I just did, pet?”

She looked at him, aghast. “Did you happen to notice how hard I just came?”

He chuckled, “I just don’t want to do anything that’s not comfortable for you.”

“I loved it,” she whispered.

He smiled boyishly and propped himself above her on his arms. He zeroed in on her breasts. “I believe I was promised a titty fuck.”

Looking down, she found him hard again.

“Well, a promise is a promise then isn’t it?” she said huskily. “Why don’t you bring that delicious cock up here and let me get it wet for you?”

Grinning, he brought his hardened member up and she sucked it enthusiastically, sure to use enough saliva to slicken it for the passage between her breasts.

He pulled back, scolding her with a look. “Now, now, pet. That talented mouth is going to get me off before I can fuck those luscious tits of yours.”

She grinned and watched as he placed his cock at the base of her breasts and slid between the two globes. She watched in fascination and lust as he began to fuck her breasts, and it didn’t take long before she took to licking the head of his cock each time it poked through.

“Oh, Christ, Buffy…” Spike grunted.

“You want to cum, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasped and was off her in a second.

That wasn’t what she expected. Then, she felt him pushing inside her. He kissed her hungrily as he slid inside, and she wrapped her arms around him, moaning at the feel of him inside her once more.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers.

“You are too,” she breathed.

“Think you were made just for me.”

She smiled, “I like the sound of that.”

“Show me how much,” he whispered and she fucked him back with all she had.

Soon, they had reached the pinnacle, and together they fell apart in each other’s arms. Buffy had been around enough to know that coming together hardly ever happened, and yet she had each time with Spike.

Yeah, she thought, maybe we are made for each other.

********

Spike took her out of the city, into a nearby suburb for a real, hearty breakfast, claiming the diner he took her to, was the best kept secret around.

She had to agree once her mouth was full of waffles slathered with sweet, maple syrup.

“You don’t do anything half assed, do you pet?” he chuckled watching her.

“What do you mean?”

His expression turned almost awe-like. “You have such passion and zest for things. You just go after life with gusto.”

Too much gusto sometimes, she thought bitterly, but instead just smiled.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “So, what are your plans today?”

“Well, I was thinking of looking for furniture.”

“Oh? Well, if you’d like some company, I could come with.”

“Furniture shopping? Are you mad? You’re a man; you’re not supposed to like things like that!”

“Well, pet, there’s a lot you still don’t know about me. I happen to like the idea of filling up that empty apartment with some furniture. Think it might help the transition easier for you.”

She smiled brightly thinking how perfect he was that he remembered her emotional moment the night before.

Just chill out, Buffy. Don’t start falling for him. You barely know him!

*********

It was with a smile on her face, and a spring in her step that Buffy made her way to Willow’s later that evening for dinner. Her and Spike had spent the day together, giggling like kids, talking, and just all around enjoying each other’s company.

The more she learned, the more she liked. She managed to find some pieces and put them on hold until later in the week when she could charge them, and Spike offered to help her arrange her furniture later in the week. Readily, she agreed.

When it was time for them to depart, they exchanged cell phone numbers and then kissed goodbye longingly, at least Buffy did. She only hoped that he felt the same way. She watched him walk away from her, backing down her long hallway, waving and grinning, and she giggled at how adorable he was.

When he was out of sight, she checked her watch and muttered, “Shit.” She was going to be late for Willow’s dinner. Grabbing her phone that she hadn’t looked at since she’d left for the club the night before, she chucked it in her pocket, grabbed her purse and a jacket and practically ran to catch a cab.

Once in Willow’s building, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket and pulled it out. She saw that she had at least ten calls from Willow, at least one voice mail message and a text. Having a feeling it was Spike, she opened the text.

I miss you already, it said.

Stopping in the hall that led to Willow’s she texted him back I miss you too, with a giddy smile.

Slipping the phone back in her pocket, she knocked on Willow’s door and it flung open a second later, an impatient looking Willow on the other side.

“Sorry I’m late,” Buffy said.

“Do you ever look at your phone?” Willow demanded.

“Sorry, I hadn’t until I just got here and got a text—what’s wrong?”

“I have been trying to call you all freaking night,” Willow told her and yanked her in her apartment.

Faith was standing before her, looking worried.

“What’s going on?” Buffy asked. “Everything all right?”

“Buffy,” Faith started, “Did you go home with Spike last night?”

Buffy looked to the both of them. “What…what do you mean?”

“Buffy, you faked yawning so much it was more than obvious,” Willow said. “Did you?”

Taking a deep breath, Buffy nodded.

“Buffy,” Faith said gently. “Spike’s married.”

“It doesn’t matter who you are, it’s what you do that takes you far, and if at first you don’t succeed, here’s some advice that you should need: You get up again, over and over, you get up again, over and over, you get up again, over and over…” ~Madonna “Over and Over”


Buffy stared at Faith, “Wh-what?” she said weakly.

“He’s married, Buffy, Oz told me last night after you both left,” Willow told her, calmer and more understanding this time.

“Th-there was no ring!” Buffy exclaimed.

“You know as well as I do that that means nothing,” Faith said sternly.

Buffy shook her head, “N-no…It can’t be, it can’t….it just can’t.”

“It is, honey, I’m sorry.”

“I can’t breathe,” Buffy murmured, “The rooms spinning, oh God, I’m gonna pass out…I’m gonna pass out. I think my throat is swelling, I can’t swallow, Oh God…” her tone was starting to rise in panic, and her hands were flailing about, fanning her face.

“Buffy, honey, calm down,” Faith said, grabbing an arm and trying to pull her to the couch.

Instead though, Buffy just sank to the floor and sat there, Indian style. Shrugging at each other, Willow and Faith followed suit.

Burying her face in her hands, Buffy let out a small scream. When she looked back up at her concerned friends, she started her questioning. “How? How and why? How did this happen? Huh? What did Oz tell you, Willow?”

“He told me that I should warn you. He hadn’t wanted to cause a scene and all, but he hated the way Spike could be.”

“Could be? That sounds very much like he does this sort of thing quite often.”

“He does,” Willow murmured, “According to Oz.”

“That fucking ass,” Faith muttered, shaking her head.

“He’s married to this woman named Cecily who, according to Oz is a real bitch. Basically, he said that Spike is a ‘kept man’, and he hates it. They don’t get along at all, according to Oz.”

“Wait,” Buffy said, holding up her hand. “Cecily. There’s only one Cecily I know and that’s Cecily Adams from high school. Please tell me that’s not her.”

“One and the same.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose, “That pampered Princess? Blech. You know what? He fucking deserves a life of fucking misery for marrying that uptight rich bitch. And that’s probably the only reason he married her in the first place! What male doesn’t want a piece of the Adams fortune, even if does mean having to be with Cecily?”

“Don’t tell me you feel sorry for him now!” Faith exclaimed, incredulously.

Buffy looked at her, “Are you kidding me? I just said he deserved a life of misery, and trust me, once I’m done with him; he’s going to be living in misery. I’m going to kick his fucking ass.” She shook her head, “God! I’m so …stupid! Of course a ring doesn’t mean anything, why would it?”

“According to Oz,” Willow continued calmly, “Cecily was out of town this weekend, visiting friends in Newport.”

“Rhode Island?”

“Yes.”

“Of course. Full of other rich snobs just like her!”

Willow cleared her throat, “He…he and the guys go out on some weekends and Spike takes his ring off and hooks up with random women. He never bothers to call them again, not all of them anyway, he just…”

“He just gets laid,” Buffy finished for her. To her dismay, she was starting to cry now. “I can’t believe this is happening to me…”

“Buffy, it’s happened to a lot of women, I’m sure. Don’t beat yourself up about it. If a man isn’t wearing a ring, it’s not like he’s going to admit to being married if you asked him. I’m sure cases like this happen more often than you realize.”

“Yeah, and you know what? Been there done that. Bet you didn’t know what a whore I was in California, did you? I was…I was hoping on the straight and narrow here and then I met him and he was so . . . perfect. But of course he was perfect, right? I mean, if you’re gonna make sure the girl is a sure thing, then you gotta make yourself some kind of fucking Prince Charming, right? Can’t show your true colors or…or the slut won’t go home with you. Or maybe she would anyway? They seem to love the pain, the degradation.”

“Buffy—“

Buffy stood. “Not all of us have found our Robin. I know it was just one night, but I was really hoping that he was…we got along so well, and it wasn’t just the sex, which, let me tell you, was pretty damn amazing. It was…it was everything. I could talk to him about stuff; we shared the same interests…how much of that was fake? All of it, apparently. I’m fucking done. I’m fucking done with men. I apparently can’t make the right decisions no matter how hard I try. And I’d been doing so well too. Well, you know what? I’m going to be an old maid. I’ve decided. I’m going to have fifty cats and live alone. I’ll happily be the cat lady if it means I don’t have to deal with this crap anymore.
You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to buy polyester and tweed, lots of it. I’m going to have ankle length pencil skirts…all in gray. And those blouses with the limp bows in the front and those gray jackets with shoulder pads that make me look like a linebacker. I’m going to get black flats, incredibly ugly black flats, maybe the kind that have those little fan looking things on them. And I’m gonna pull my hair back in a bun, in a bun so freaking tight; it’ll pull the skin back on my face. I’ll have an instant face lift! And no makeup. None. Fresh-faced to the world. That’s gonna be me.”

Willow and Faith looked up at her in awe, and it was Faith who snorted first. Willow started to giggle.

“I’m serious! Why are you laughing?” Buffy demanded.

The girls stood.

“Oh honey, I don’t think you have to go that far, though it’s good to see you still have that overactive imagination,” Faith said, running her fingers through Buffy’s hair in a motherly like fashion.

“Faith,” Buffy said, choking on a sob. “I’m such a fuck up.”

“No, honey, you’re not.”

“I am! You don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“Why don’t you tell us?” Willow suggested. “We’re your friends, Buffy, we’re not here to judge you, we’re here to support you.”

“You would think I was disgusting.”

“No, we won’t. God, Buffy, do you remember the crap I did?” Faith demanded. “Talk to us, Buffy, make us understand, please.”

“You got some wine? I could really use a drink for this one,” Buffy said dryly, heading for the couch this time to sit down.

*********

Spike entered his three-story, country style home, with a reluctant sigh. He hadn’t seen Cecily’s car in the driveway, which meant she was not yet home from her cavorting in Newport with her snobby friends; and, as far as he knew, fucking some dolt on a yacht.

Not that he had any room to talk. Course, he also didn’t have proof she was fucking around on him, and really, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t as if that mattered. It wasn’t what made him fuck around. No, what made him fuck around was his deep and abiding loathing for his wife.

She wouldn’t be so bad, really, if she could just take the two by four out of her ass, and the silver spoon from her mouth. If she could also treat him like a human being, and not like one of her ‘pets’.

He flipped open his phone to once more look at Buffy’s text: “I miss you too.” He smiled, his heart warming. Buffy. Sweet, and incredibly smart and sexy Buffy. Everything he could possibly want and need wrapped up in one perfect petite package Buffy.

When he’d laid eyes on her, two things had registered in his brain: Buffy Summers and Perfect.

He’d remembered her from high school; in fact he’d had a crush on her to beat all other crushes, ever, in high school. Back then, as nerdy William Giles, she never looked his way and he admired her from afar. When she’d left, he’d been devastated.

Life though, continued on as it always did, no matter how heartbroken one was. He got over it, what else could he do, really? Pine away for her for the rest of his life? He was only seventeen!

It wasn’t until college that he met Cecily. She was bright-eyed and enjoying her newfound life in college, in her own prudish way. They’d struck up a friendship and then it slowly moved into a relationship. Looking back, Spike could now see it for what it was: Two sheltered kids experimenting for the first time. It being his first time for everything, Spike fancied himself in love with Cecily, looking the other way at all her snobby and bossy tendencies.

In him, she seemed to have found someone to mold. She dressed him up and showed him off; the proper English gentleman. Her father, one of the richest men in Boston – most of it from inheritance – took a shine to him, and before Spike knew what was happening, he was being promised the world if he married Cecily.

He didn’t care about the world then, he just cared about Cecily. What would happen to him if she wasn’t in his life? Who would take him? No one but Cecily had ever showed interest in him, if she was gone, he would be alone again and now that he’d had a taste for what it felt like to be what he thought at the time was love, he couldn’t give her up. He was a proper English gentleman. He was also a romantic to the core and chivalrous to boot. Cecily was his first, and he hers, and for this he would marry her. So, after a long engagement, in which Spike began to feel the pressure more and more, he married her.

The world, he soon discovered, came with a price.

He was given a job in a career (his current position, of which Cecily’s father was President of), he hadn’t gone to school for – he’d planned to be an English teacher for high school kids – given a house, a car, a bursting at the seems bank account, and Cecily. Cecily, who was demanding and bitchy, patronizing and rude.

It didn’t take long for Spike to realize, he didn’t want this life he was promised anymore, and it also didn’t take him much longer after that to realize that if he gave it all back, his life would end. The Adams’ were a prestigious family in town, if he left Cecily at all, for any reason; he was threatened – in the most polite way of course – that his life would be over. Not in the sense of being harmed physically, but in the sense of being shunned completely in a town that knew and respected the Adams’ and would do anything the Adams’ said.

He was a kept man, and to rebel, William left and Spike took up residence. He went for shocking – shearing off his floppy mop of hair and bleaching it an almost white –blond. He got rid of his glasses and got contacts, got rid of the Dockers and Tommy Hilfiger sweaters and shirts, and traded them in for black jeans and black t-shirts, and his now trademark leather duster. He started working out and beefed up his body so that he could get away with the new look that was tightly conforming to his body. His entire attitude changed too. He didn’t give a flying fuck anymore about his life, his wife, and any of the shit he was expected to do. He became the complete antithesis of William, and gave himself the name Spike after having had a one-night stand with a woman who screamed at him to “Spike” her while he was fucking her hard into the bed.

Course, he couldn’t get away with being Spike all the time, and so he was forced to play dress up at work, to please his father-in-law. He played nice when he absolutely had to, and then shunned them all when he could. The lot of them was hoping it was just a phase he was going through and would eventually get over. The thing of it was, Spike felt trapped in a life he did not want and when he even hinted at leaving, Cecily went into a rage, crying and begging and pleading, promising him all sorts of things if he’d just stay, and warning him, warning him what his life would be like if he ever left. He’d have nothing.

So yeah, he fucked around, got his jollies someplace else. Had his fun, drinking too much and fucking just as much, making no promises to any woman. Basically, he took his revenge on women everywhere for trapping men since the beginning of time, by fucking them and leaving them. Once in a while, if he particularly enjoyed one, he’d hang around for a bit, and then disappear, making them fall for him just enough so that it’d hurt when he left them. In this way too, he got his revenge on Cecily, on her family for trying to control him. No one can control me. I can’t even control myself. And it felt good, in a sick sadistic way for about a minute…and then he felt like shit about himself. He was no God, he was no stud. He was nothing.

And now Buffy had entered his life and the furthest thing from his mind was leaving her. All he wanted to do was be the man she needed. She was so smart and goal-oriented, determined and strong…he wanted to be worthy of her. He just didn’t know how he would ever feel that way; he hadn’t felt worthy of very much for a very long time.

Buffy had barely gotten any sleep the night before she was to start work. That put her on the rampage even more than she already was with Spike. That bastard was going down as far as she was concerned.

Her classes were done for the day at three in the afternoon, and so she took it upon herself to pay Mr. William Giles a visit at work. She’d gotten the name of the marketing firm he worked for and found it with ease. She was a woman on a mission.

When she stepped off the elevator on his floor, she found him coming toward her and a delighted smile bloomed across his handsome face. Her heart lurched and she had to wonder if confronting him was going to be harder than she thought, but then his eyes darted nervously around, and knowing the reasons why, just fueled her fire. She was a secret in his world, not someone he could go to work and talk about, she was nothing more than his mistress for the weekend; his whore.

He barreled into the elevator before she could get off, and quickly pressed the ‘door close’ button, pressed the lobby button, which was thirty floors down, allowing them to have the elevator to themselves.

He gathered her in his arms immediately, kissing her senseless, pulling her close against him, grinding his burgeoning erection against her and pushing her against the wall. “Missed you so much, pet,” he whispered. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Really?”

“Mmm…I was hard as nails all night thinking of you.”

“That so?”

“Reach down and check,” he suggested huskily.

Buffy obliged, stroking him gently through his pants while he moaned and dropped his head to her shoulder.

“I want you right here and right now,” he told her, groaning.

He’s married, she reminded herself and instead of stroking him gently, she gripped him hard, as hard as she could through his pants.

His head whipped up and his eyes popped open. “Buffy, that hurts.”

“Does it?” she asked innocently.

“Yes,” he gasped.

“Did you know…” she murmured, brushing her lips across his lips lightly, “That I can’t stand liars?”

“N-no.”

“You know what it makes me want to do when a man lies to me?”

“N-no.”

“It makes me want to yank off their dick and shove it up their ass,” she hissed and let him go, backing away and glaring at him.

He coughed, wincing at the pain between his legs and Buffy took sadistic pleasure in it. “You’re scum, did you know that?”

Pushing the button to stop the elevator from moving at all, Spike turned to her, trying to talk through the pain. “Buffy, I can explain—“

“Oh, really?” she said, sarcastically, crossing her arms across her chest. “Then by all means, if you can explain. How about I take a shot at it?”

He watched her, waiting expectantly.

“Let me see if I can guess what you’re about to say…” she said mockingly, “’She’s so mean to me, Buffy, she treats me like crap, Buffy, we don’t love each other Buffy, she’s fucking around on me, Buffy, we barely talk anymore, Buffy, our marriage is over, Buffy, I’m going to leave her, Buffy.’ Did I nail that one on the head or what?”

“Buffy, it’s true—“

“Of course it is. Because it’s you, right? And you’re so different from every other man who does the same exact thing and gives the same lame ass excuses for their disgusting behavior!”

“You don’t know what it’s like. It’s not that easy—“

“It’s not? So you can’t just leave her if you hate her so much?”

“She’d end me.”

“Really? She a mafia princess or something.”

“Pretty close to it,” he muttered.

“Well, I wonder how she’d react if she knew about your extracurricular activities?”

“Buffy, listen—“

“No,” Buffy said, pushing the button to make the elevator go, “I’m not going to listen. You’re going to listen to me. You’re a fucking asshole and I hate your fucking guts. Men like you make me sick. You know what it is with guys like you that can’t keep it in their pants? You’re proving how many women you can pleasure, you’re just proving how you can’t pleasure just one woman. You’re sad and you’re pathetic—“

“Got you off, didn’t it?” Spike said bitterly. “I might be bent, but I got you off just the same, didn’t I? Maybe you should be more careful about who you take home, little girl. You certainly don’t fuck like the sweet and innocent girl you show the world--”

Marching up to him, she slapped him hard across the face. “I hope you rot in hell.” The elevator doors dinged open just in time and Buffy marched out into the lobby, heading for her cab.

*********

Spike watched her go, the doors slowly closing in on him and he thought, I’m rotting in hell already.

God, why had he been such an asshole to her? For finding out? For being disgusted by him? She had every right to be disgusted by him…and he had nothing to offer her to begin with. He was a lost cause. He could give her him, and that wasn’t much at all was it? He wasn’t his own man; he was a pathetic sod whose life was led by others. It had hurt that Buffy, whom he associated with something akin to an angel, had seen him as nothing more than scum. So, in classic Spike attitude, he lashed out in his hurt and attacked her. It was so much easier to deflect blame and responsibility than to take it on the chin yourself.

Pushing his floor number on the elevator control pad, Spike whipped out his phone and hastily punched in Xander’s number.

“Hello?”

“Who the fuck told Buffy about Cecily!” Spike barked into the phone.

Silence for a beat, then, “Excuse me?”

“Who. Told. Buffy. About. Cecily?”

“Dude, I don’t know!”

“She just came here, to my office, all hell fire blasting me for being married –“

“Well…can you really blame her?”

“Xander, you know—“

“How unhappy you are, yeah. But…Jesus, man. Grow a set and divorce the bitch.”

“It’s not that easy!”

“It really is that easy.”

“You’re supposed to be my best mate here, Xander.”

“I am your best ‘mate’, Spike, but you can’t expect me to be okay with what you do. I just never say anything because well, it’s easier to not say anything than to have this discussion with you constantly. You know…I’ve got Anya now and I really like her. I might even love her, and I can’t imagine doing something like that to her.”

“Aren’t you all of a sudden just so fucking noble,” Spike spat.

“No, I’m not. Not really, cause I let you do it and never said anything. I even aided you by saying you were single, but…but I don’t want to do that anymore, man.”

“What the hell do you know, Harris?” Spike shouted, feeling that he was very much starting to unravel.

“I don’t know a lot, Spike. I don’t claim to, but some things seem pretty simple to me.”

“That’s because you are simple,” Spike said between clenched teeth.

“What’s it matter what I think anyway?” Xander said angrily, “When does what anyone thinks ever matter? You’re just gonna do what you’ve always done; only this time it won’t be Buffy. Which actually makes me glad cause that doesn’t look good for me having such a bastard for a friend,” and with that, Xander hung up.

Immediately, the phone rang again. “What?” Spike barked into it.

“You wouldn’t be yelling at me, would you William?” Cecily’s snooty voice came over the line, warning him.

“Of course not, why would I do something like that?” Spike bit out sarcastically.

“What’s gotten you all wound up?” she asked haughtily.

“What do you want, Cecily?”

“We’re having dinner at Daddy’s, did he tell you?”

Perfect end to a perfect day.

“No, he didn’t,” Spike said wearily, feeling suddenly very tired.

“Well, we are. Don’t be late coming home and don’t smell like liquor either. Wear something nice and please try to comb your hair, you know how I like it when your hair is all slicked back... ”

He remembered how Buffy had run her fingers through his curly locks, how she said how adorable he was with them.

“Cecily, are you my goddamned mother now?”

“Don’t be crass. Just because you lacked social grace growing up, doesn’t mean you can’t learn to have it now. Is it wrong of me to want my husband to look nice? Don’t be late.” And she hung up before Spike could respond.

Yeah, Buffy, I’m rotting in hell already.

*******

Spike hated going to Cecily’s parents for dinner. He hated how snobby they were; how they talked about things they knew nothing about and passed judgment.

Currently, Cecily’s father, Morgan, was discussing a rival marketing firm and how young the wife of the President of the company was.

“He’s a cad,” Cecily’s mother, Ellen, said disgustedly, “I hear he visits the local bars.”

Who the fuck cares if he goes out for a drink? Spike thought, and just because his wife is younger, doesn’t make him a cad…and who the fuck says ‘cad’ anymore?

“I hear she’s pudgy,” Morgan said, sipping his Scotch.

“I think she’s pregnant, Daddy,” Cecily added, “I ran into her on Newbury Street. You know where she shops don’t you? At The Gap,” she wrinkled her nose and said The Gap as if it were a dirty word.

Spike rolled his eyes and sat back, taking a long drink of his own Scotch.

“Something wrong, William?” Morgan asked, and the question sounded almost like a dare.

“Nothing at all, sir,” Spike muttered.

“He’s been a little grumpy today,” Cecily told her father, reaching out and patting Spike’s head as if he were a puppy. “I think he just missed me this weekend, didn’t you darling?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Spike said, monotone.

“Well,” Ellen said, “Maybe you two should go away for a nice weekend together? Maybe it’d help in getting me some grandchildren.”

Spike nearly choked on the sip he just took at the thought of that. It never failed, so he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much anymore. They brought up the grandkid thing every time they came over for dinner, which was at least twice a week. He didn’t care if they’d been married for ten years compared to the five they’d actually been married, he was not having kids with her. Ever.

Five years, he thought. My God, that is a long time…What the hell was I thinking? We met when we were 20, started dating a year later, graduated on the five year plan at 23, got engaged, and got married at 25. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve wasted nine years of my life with this woman. Nine fucking years.

Looking over at his wife, he thought how once upon a time she had been the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. She had been so much more fun then, or had that all been for show? Had it all been her way of trapping him? Were women everywhere like that? She’d had those snobby tendencies then, but she was much more willing to try new things, much more accepting then. How had his love-addled mind been so swept up by it all that he’d just overlooked how she really was?

Now all he saw when he looked at her was someone he could barely stand, a snob, a prude, a bitch, someone that was with him just to say she had a husband. Those brief moments of affection she’d show him were all for show, all for pretense to make him think…think what? That she was just as happy in this hell-hole marriage as he? To keep him there, he supposed, to remind him that if he should ever leave, he’d have nothing because he’d sold his soul to the Devil.

He wondered how long he had to sit there before he could go out for a while and get the disgusting feeling he had about himself out of his system.

Doyle was due home and Buffy was meeting him at the airport like a dutiful friend. Faith and Willow hadn’t been able to get away to do it, as it was in the middle of the day, but Buffy had a long enough break in between classes that she could do it.

Standing in the crowded Logan airport waiting for her friend, Buffy was nearly jumping up and down with excitement. She needed to see him. She loved all her friends, but there was a special little something that Doyle gave her that she needed. He just made her feel good. She figured that perhaps it was because he was the only straight guy that had never hit on her and for that reason; her trust in him grew and grew to immeasurable heights.

When she saw the people filing out, she clapped her hands together excitedly and when she saw his black hair, and then his blue eyes, she pushed her way through the throng to get to him.

“Buffy!” he exclaimed excitedly when he saw her, smiling broadly, lighting up his whole face.

“Doyle!”

When she finally got to him, she threw herself in his arms, hugging him tightly. “I missed you so much,” she gushed.

He laughed, “I missed you too, lass. I’m sorry I missed your arrival back.”

“Hey, I know how important it is for you to visit the mother country once in a while,” she grinned. “How is Ireland these days?”

“Perfect, and Boston?”

“Could be better.”

Doyle groaned. “Already?”

“Already.”

“Come on, lass. We’ll get my luggage and you can tell Doyle all about it.”

“Why do you talk about yourself in the third person?” Buffy asked, giggling and linking arms with him as they headed for baggage claim.

“I reckon it makes me sound important, that’s why. You tell me, Doctor Summers, Professor of English.”

She laughed, “It sounds pretentious to me.”

“Pretentious is kind of like important.”

“Yes, but when you’re pretentious, it’s usually just all in your head.”

“Lass, you’ve known for a while that I’ve had delusions of grandeur.”

“This is true.”

“So, catch me up.”

“Ah, Doyle, I don’t want to…you just got off a plane, just came back from vacation. Why do you want to hear my drama?”

“Why not just jump right in the thick of it, eh?”

Buffy giggled, “It’s just one of my stupid misadventures…”

“Yeah, but it’s upset you a bit, yes?”

“Yeah,” she agreed sadly.

“So, tell me.”

“All right,” she said on a sigh. “You asked for it.”

*********

“Damn,” Doyle said when she was done and they were on their way to his apartment via cab. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Find the drama. Does it find you, or do you look for it?”

Buffy giggled, “It finds me. And then sometimes I walk into it. I never go looking for it…well…”

“All right, this is what we’re going to do.”

“I’m all ears.”

“We’re detoxing the drama right out of you.”

Buffy quirked a brow. “How?”

“No men.”

“I’ve already figured that, Doyle.”

“Well, I’m stressing it. Seriously, Buffy, you need a break.”

“I know,” Buffy sighed.

“Work and your friends. Find a hobby. Write that book you keep talking about.”

“Not like I don’t have a lot to write about,” she muttered.

“I’m not trying to pass judgment on you.”

“I know.”

“I’m just concerned is all.”

“I know.”

“Buffy…those things he saw in you, you know before he insulted you? He was right. You are brilliant and sweet and you are a good girl. You just somehow make horrendous choices.”

“Way to make me feel good, Doyle.”

“I’m not…I’m sorry. But it’s true.”

“I know it is, I just…God! I just wanted…I wanted him to be the guy, you know? The Guy.”

“The chances of finding a guy in a one-night stand are slim to none.”

“Doyle, you’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s an asshole!”

“Yeah, but you’re making me feel like one!”

Doyle sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel like one. You’re not an asshole, I just…I just want you to be happy, Buffy and you haven’t been for quite some time.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I know some, but not all. Enough to tell me that you’re not happy and that you don’t want to live the crazy lifestyle anymore.”

“I haven’t wanted to for some time.”

“So then what happened?”

“Spike.”

“He single-handedly fucked it all up for you?”

“Yeah, imagine that,” she said dryly.

“He must be some guy.”

“He is…was.”

“Well, fuck him. Put him out of your head.”

“I’m trying.”

“Look, here’s what it comes down to. You’ve got a great new job, you’re back in Boston which is your home, you’re with us, your friends, again, you’ve got what you’ve said is a fabulous new apartment. You’re smart, sexy, and you do have a head on your shoulders, and a big heart to boot. You’re worth all those things you want, Buffy. You just have to start believing it.”

Buffy started to tear up. I know, I just…I guess I just want to feel…loved.”

Doyle cupped the side of her face and looked at her, searchingly. “You are loved, Buffy. Just got to learn to love yourself a bit more, yes?”

She nodded, the tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m so proud of you for nearly lopping his dick off.”

Buffy giggled and pulled back, resting her head on the back of the seat. “I am too. I couldn’t help it. The angrier I got, the more I squeezed.”

“I really like the bit where you told him he couldn’t please one woman, too.”

Buffy giggled. “You want to write these down for later?”

“I might. Get car sick, you know, can’t do it here.”

Leaning across the car, Buffy rested her head on her friends shoulder and wrapped an arm about him. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I’m glad you’re home too,” Doyle whispered and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

********

Two months later

“Doyle?” Buffy called from her bedroom.

“Yeah?” Doyle called back, flipping through one of her books.

“I’m pregnant.”

Doyle’s head popped up from the book he was perusing. “What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Jumping up, Doyle bounded into her now fully furnished bedroom. “Buffy…you came in here to get a jacket. How did you get pregnant from that?”

Buffy sat on the edge of her bed, a pregnancy stick in her hand, and she was staring at it. “I went to the bathroom too,” she said, nodding towards her bathroom.

“And just decided to take a pregnancy test before we went to dinner? Why? To see if you could have wine or not?”

“Because I haven’t gotten my period in over a month.”

Doyle’s eyes bugged. “And you’re just now checking?”

“Well it’s not unusual for me to not get it for a month, and I just remembered…”

Doyle narrowed his eyes. “Remembered what Buffy?”

“That I hadn’t used protection with Spike,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear her.

“You just now remembered?”

“Well, okay, that’s a lie, but I was thinking with the stress and all…it was just a fluke.”

“Aren’t you on the pill? Why aren’t you on the pill?”

“I ran out before I moved and just never bothered to get it filled since I was coming back here…”

“Jesus Christ, Buffy!”

“Stop yelling at me!”

“I know a great doctor in my building, he’s an OBGYN, you’re going to see him. I will get you his number, hell I’ll make the appointment for you.”

“Doyle…”

“What?”

“I’m scared.”

Doyle sat down next to her, “I know you are, Buffy, I know you are. What do you want to do?”

“I can’t get rid of it, Doyle, you know that. I already did that once and I can’t do it again.”

“I know.”

“But I’m scared.”

Doyle pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be here every step of the way, Buffy. “

“Thank you,” she murmured, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Are you…are you going to tell Spike?”

She looked up at him, her brilliant green eyes meeting his. “No.”

“Women are like tea bags... you never know what they can do until they're in hot water." ~ Elanor Roosevelt

“You’re not going to tell him?” A flabbergasted and four-month pregnant Faith demanded. “He deserves to know that at least.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes at Faith and squeezed Doyle’s hand under the table at the restaurant they were all at for dinner. “He deserves nothing as far as I’m concerned.”

“Every child deserves to have a father,” Faith said, taking a sip of her water.

“Yeah, and not every guy is like Robin and is willing to marry the woman they impregnate,” Buffy snapped.

“He’s not just ‘willing’ Buffy, he loves me,” the dark-haired girl corrected her with a hard edge to her voice.

“Well, no one loves me, all right? Least of all Spike.”

“Okay, now ladies, how about we relax here? Buffy’s got her reasons and I can’t say that I completely disagree,” Doyle jumped in.

“I’m on the fence, “ Willow said, raising her hand timidly. “I sorta feel he should know, kind of as a lesson for what he—not that it’s horrible for him to have gotten you pregnant, but…am I making this worse?”

Buffy smiled at her red-headed friend, trying to assuage her fears. “It’s all right Willow. I already thought of that. What better way to put the fear of God in him than by telling him that he knocked me up? But, the repercussions of telling him that are too much for me to want to deal with, and really, I’m trying to be adult about this. It takes two to tango and I never thought of protection either, so….”

“So, he should own up to his half of that tango,” Faith told her.

“He’s fucking married, Faith. What can he possibly do for me?”

“Child support? That bastard deserves to be stopped in his tracks for what he does. What are you going to do? Raise this child alone?”

“Yes,” Buffy said stubbornly. “Look, I don’t want to have anything to do with him, all right? End of story. I’m telling you that I’m pregnant and unless I’m asking what I should do to fight morning sickness, the situation surrounding my pregnancy is not up for discussion, all right? I’d rather bring this child into a happy situation, not a miserable one with a philandering father that in actuality could take my baby from me and raise it with that bitch Cecily Adams. Fuck that. I’m going to raise my baby on my own.”

“With help from me,” Doyle said gently.

Buffy smiled, “Right.”

Faith stared at them, focusing intently on Doyle with a look that Buffy couldn’t quite read, but it made her disengage her hand from Doyle’s under the table. Willow, for her part, watched them all, studying everyone closely.

“So, what about work?” Faith asked.

”Well, I met Spike in September, so I’d be due in June. I could have the summer and then put him or her in daycare.”

Faith raised a brow, “You could do that?”

Buffy glared at her, “Yes. You plan on staying home?”

“For as long as I can.”

”Well, it must be nice to have a husband that can take care of things for you like that,” Buffy said sardonically.

Faith just shrugged and sat back, a bored expression on her face.

“Why are you being such an uber bitch to me right now?” Buffy demanded. “I don’t need your judgments here, Faith. I need your understanding.”

That seemed to snap Faith out of what her problem was, and she sat back up, looking at Buffy imploringly. “I’m worried about you is all.” She shook her head, “I’m sorry. I just…I just hate that this has happened to you. I know this wasn’t how you pictured things happening and now you’re going to have a constant reminder of what that asshole did to you and I just think he should have a reminder too.”

“I’m not going to tell him about his child to spite him, Faith. That’s no way to have two parents. I will love my baby no matter who the father is. I’d rather not be reminded about him by having him constantly around. ‘Hi honey, this is your father who can’t be with your mother because he has a wife. You can call her Aunt Cecily.’” Buffy shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

Faith sighed heavily. “Well, there are other reasons, but –“ she held up a hand when Buffy started to open her mouth “I get it. I’m keeping my mouth shut and will be here for you through all of it as well. Hey, I’m two months more along. I can let you know what to expect.”

Buffy smiled, “Thank you, Faith.”

“I wonder if he has gotten anyone else pregnant,” Willow mused.

Buffy grimaced, “I’d rather not wonder, thank you.” I don’t want to wonder anything about him. Not when I’d just gotten to a good spot in my life and I’m finally on the right path. I just want to continue forgetting that I ever met a William Giles. Even if the universe has made it so I can’t.

********

Spike had a thing for blonds at first shortly after Buffy had left him standing in the elevator two months ago. When he'd go out, he'd single them out, the golden blond kind preferably.

But then he gave up on them when he wasn't able to get it up for them. Now how did something like that happen? How had Buffy come to mean something to him so fucking quickly that he was unable to get it up for another woman, no matter the hair color?

And that wouldn't do, so he switched to the raven haired beauties instead. The complete antithesis of Buffy. And that worked well for him. As well as it could anyway.

He was an angry and bitter man these days. Haven't I been for quite some time? he thought with a derisive chuckle and looked over at the girl, the nameless, faceless girl next to him in bed. No matter how many times he'd had her, he was still angry. Angry at Buffy, Cecily, his in-laws, and when he was done blaming them for his troubles, he found he was angry with himself, and that's what stung the most. That's what made him the most bitter. It was one thing when you could place the blame elsewhere and accept none of it, but when you had yourself to answer to and you came up short each time...well, that was a horribly stifling feeling.

Xander hadn't wanted much to do with him these days, and Oz, well, Oz just sort of blew him off completely. And why not? They didn't want his ways sullying the lives they had with their women.

Rolling out of bed, Spike dressed, not caring he'd promised to stay the night. The dumb broad had to know that he wasn't going to say; couldn't possibly stay. And she was dumb, for she'd gone home with him.

The women in Boston ought to lock themselves up. He'd have thought most of them would have learned about dogs like him by now.

7 Months Later

Buffy was about to pop. She was hot – there was a heat wave going on in Boston in fucking June and she was roasting. There was never a heat wave that early. Those usually happened in, say, July and August, not June. And she could not seem to turn her air conditioner up high enough to stop the sweltering she was currently experiencing.

Her mother had warned her that carrying in the summer would be incredibly uncomfortable, and well, her mother hadn’t been lying. However, Buffy had pretty much found herself on the warm side during her entire pregnancy, even in the dead of winter she was taking trips out on her balcony with no jacket on in the thirty-degree weather. Doyle had dragged her in the apartment when he’d actually witnessed her doing it. She’d nearly gone Linda Blair on him for it, too.

As a matter of fact, she was feeling very Linda Blair at the moment. Well, Linda Blair if she were to have a pity party. Buffy tried to attribute it to the fact that she was so hot, uncomfortable, almost due and impatient –she was literally days away—and she felt as if it was never going to end. She was tired of the hunger, the backaches, the swollen ankles, and the mood swings. She was tired of being tired at eight o’ clock at night, of not being able to have a goddman beer for Christ’s sake! She was also incredibly jealous that Faith had her baby in her arms, that she had a house with Robin, that she had a spouse that so obviously loved her. What did Buffy have? Yeah, she had supportive friends, but they weren’t there when she was falling asleep and wanted someone to hold her and assuage her fears about giving birth. She didn’t have someone to rub her feet after a tiring day or someone to feel the baby when it kicked inside her belly and she was excited about it…

She had nothing.

Doyle was over all the time, but it wasn’t the same. Doyle wasn’t her lover, wasn’t her spouse, wasn’t the baby’s father. Even if, for all intents and purposes, he acted very much like a Daddy-to-be. He helped her turn her study into a nursery, helped her choose the Humpty-Dumpty theme she wanted for the baby, feeling it could go either way for a boy or a girl considering her child seemed to make a game out of hiding its sex from her at the few ultrasounds she’d been to. He’d even helped her figure out the necessities of what she needed and then registered her at Kids R’ Us for her baby shower – that he planned. She was appreciative, she truly was, but again, Doyle wasn’t her significant other.

And it was during all those musings of what she didn’t have that a dangerous idea popped in her mind, and like a dog with a bone, she wasn’t able to let go of it.

I should tell Spike.

“No, that’s dumb,” she muttered, shaking her head. “And really,” she asked her air conditioner, as if could impart any wisdom when it couldn’t even cool her off, “What would be the point? What would telling him do? Nothing. It would do abso-fucking-lutely nothing. It’d just create problems.”

Tell him.

Her brain, she decided was trying to get her in even more trouble than she was already in. Tell him? Tell him? Why? What would be the point?

Well, he was all comfy and cozy in his big house, with his vintage car, his bitchy wife and, she was sure, his large screen plasma, flat screen TV. He was off gallivanting when he wasn’t with said wife, boinking the women in Boston like a dog in heat.

Why should he get off scott free? It was no longer a matter of why she shouldn’t tell him, but why shouldn’t she not?

And so she grabbed her purse, a water bottle, a copy of her baby’s picture, and was out the door. She was a woman on a mission.

*********

The burst of confidence Buffy had on the way over started to wane when she was standing before the reception desk and the receptionist asked her who she was there to see.

Shit. What am I doing?

“Miss?” the brunette with the beady eyes asked.

“I’m here to see William Giles,” she blurted out. “I uh, have an appointment with him.”

”You do?” the girl said, frowning, and looking down at some book. “I don’t see you here.”

“Well, see, I …had originally cancelled, but then decided to see him after all and that’s probably why I’m not …there.”

“Well, I don’t know if –“

“Buffy?”

Her head popped up and she found William standing there, standing there as if he couldn’t believe she was really there. She pretty much couldn’t believe she was really there. Instinctively, her hand went to her swollen stomach. That’s him baby, that’s your Daddy. And then she wanted to cry.

“Hi, I needed to talk to you about the uh, proposal for the school?” she managed to get out, somewhat awkwardly. And then she wondered why the hell she cared considering he deserved to be exposed for what he was doing.

He cleared his throat, “Of course, follow me.”

It was when she came round the desk and his eyes bulged, that she realized he hadn’t been able to see her pregnant belly until then. She swallowed hard and without a word followed him to his office.

She studied the back of his head and repeated to herself: Scum. Jerk. Asshole. Cheater. Liar, over and over.

It didn’t matter that she had once fancied herself falling for him, that was just flights of fancy, a silly school – girls want, that was her being in love with the idea of love. It wasn’t real.

So then why are you here, again? her traitorous mind asked.

Stepping into his office that she was sure could be an apartment for two at least; she cleared her throat as he went round his desk and faced her.

“You’re …pregnant,” he said, stating the obvious and gesturing to her belly.

“I am.”

“Why are you here?”

He wasn’t getting that it was his? How dumb was he? I mean…did he do math at all? Course, he was a man, but come on!

She studied him, gathering her courage. He’d lost weight. His roots were coming in; he had bags under his eyes and his eyes looked bloodshot. He looked like hell. Gorgeous hell, but hell nonetheless.

“You look like crap,” she blurted out.

“Thanks,” he said dryly, rolling his eyes. “What do you want, Buffy? I haven’t seen you in a year.”

”Nine months.”

“What?”

“You haven’t seen me in nine months. Or thirty eight weeks and three days to be exact.”

“Counting the days since you’ve seen me, luv?” he asked, smirking.

“No, that’s how many weeks pregnant I am.”

He started making like a guppy, and she realized that understanding was dawning on him.

“It takes nine months, but I swear it feels like a year, for a baby to grow to term inside you. Well, me. A woman. You get my…” she shook her head. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew the picture of their baby and placed it on his desk. “That’s your child. Our child.”

He stared at the picture, not moving. He stared at it, but made no move to grab it, to look closer. All he did was stand stock still and stare at it, his mouth hanging open.

Buffy wasn’t sure what to do, and frankly, she really didn’t know what she expected him to do – nothing, possibly. What could he do? Really, nothing. Nothing that she wanted part of anyway. She wanted him to know, and now he did.

However, that was when she earned the award for “Worst timing ever”.

Shutting her eyes, she cursed.

“What?” he croaked.

“My water just broke.”

Spike looked up at her, feeling sucker punched by Buffy’s announcement. All both of them.

“My water, it broke, I need a cab…” and she started for the door, fumbling in her purse and whipping out a phone with trembling hands.

She was scared, that much he could register from her shaking hands. And she was leaving, with her water having just broken, and the baby inside her that was his. His. Fucking his.

“No, wait!” he shouted and she halted, peering over her shoulder at him.

“What?”

“I’ll—I’ll take you.”

“I have back up, it’s okay—“

“Just let me take you, okay? You’re shaking like a leaf and you’re a mess—“

“Yeah, you’re one to talk about being a mess!” she snapped.

“I’m not the one that just had amniotic fluid come out of me.”

“Look, just take me to the goddamned hospital and shut the fuck up, all right?”

“You are having my baby,” he said softly. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, there’s a lot of things you could do, but why cry over spilled milk or broken water, right?”

He said nothing. She couldn’t possibly know, understand or care what he was feeling at that moment, and he couldn’t expect her to. He was having a hard time grappling with exactly what he was feeling aside from shock and incredible sadness. He felt loss about this. Complete loss. She was having his baby and all he felt was that he was losing something, not gaining.

He couldn’t have cared less about the people watching them as they made their way to the elevator, instead, he barked at them to clean the mess up off his floor, not even really caring about that, but he knew his father-in-law would. Plus, considering the situation, he felt as though he needed to exert some kind of power.

Sod the bastard, he thought as he helped Buffy onto the elevator, only to have her bat his hands away when he put them on her.

She started breathing in some funky pattern, and he deduced that it was Lamaze breathing. She took Lamaze classes, he thought sadly, Did someone go with her? Or did she go alone? The thought of her alone made his heart break. I should have been there.

She was fumbling with her phone again and she wasn’t getting very far. Her fingers were shaking too much.

“Buffy, who can I call for you?” he asked, taking her phone from her.

“Doyle. I need Doyle.”

“Okay, let me see if I can get into your contacts…” Who is Doyle? He put the phone to his ear. “It’s ringing,” he informed her.

She snatched the phone from him and pressed it to her ear. “Doyle…my water broke…yeah, I’m on my way…no, I’m on my way…meet me there, okay? Hurry up, I’m scared and I’m starting to get really bad contractions….okay.”

She clicked her phone shut and slid it back in her purse. She stared at the control panel before her, and Spike stared at her. A tear slid down her cheek and he took her hand.

“Buffy, luv—“

“Not your love,” she told him, and he was sure she meant it to come out harsher than it had, but she was clearly upset and trying to keep it together. Maybe in a weird way, he was helping. This way, she could take shots at him and it gave her another focus than what was happening.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asked conversationally.

Her head turned slowly to him just as the doors dinged open. “Are you being serious right now?”

He bit back a grin. “Yeah.”

She thwacked him with her purse, “You’re an ass, you know that? Look at me!” she exclaimed and marched out of the elevator.

He followed, keeping in step beside her. “How has your pregnancy been?” he asked. And who is Doyle?

“It was…fine. I almost had to be put on bed rest…where the hell am I going?” she demanded once on the street.

Putting his hand gently on the small of her back, he guided her to the car park across the street. This time, she didn’t bat his hand away.

“Why were you almost on bed rest?” he asked.

“Stress. I was working still and it was just…I needed to take a rest.”

“But it was an all right pregnancy other than that?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“What’s the sex?”

“Don’t know, couldn’t tell. He or she liked to play hide and seek with his genitalia. Though, we were never able to really ‘seek’.”

Spike chuckled and brought her finally to the passenger side of his car, unlocking it for her. “I bet it’s a boy,” he told her, easing her in.

She looked up at him once she was seated and met his eyes. His breath caught in that instant.

“I bet it is too,” she said and then turned from him, shutting the door.

On the way to the hospital, he asked her this and that about her pregnancy, how she felt, what was the worst part for her, how she survived going out in the winter, how work was, what she planned to do next.

He kept her talking, even when she gripped the door and consul through a contraction and grit her teeth.

It struck him how men really didn’t have a clue about this sort of thing. No wonder the women inevitably turned on the man during labor; they were the ones experiencing the pain, while the man just made idle chit chat. Or tried to say inane things like “Just breathe honey, It’s going to be okay, honey, I love you, honey.” He figured if he was in excruciating pain, that would piss him off too.

Once they arrived at the hospital, Spike all but swerved into a spot, earning a glare from Buffy. That was fine by him. Helping her out of the car, she nearly squeezed his hand right off and he had to figure it was another contraction.

Making their way to the emergency room doors, Spike heard someone calling her name. Looking across the parking lot was a dark-haired man running toward them.

Doyle.

Buffy stopped and turned toward the man calling her and when she saw him, she burst into tears. "Doyle," she gasped through them and just waited for him to come to her. Once Doyle was there, he swept her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm just...scared. I've obviously never done this before."

Spike stood there, feeling awkward and out of place. He was the father, and yet he felt as if he did not belong in this equation at all. It hadn't even sunk in that he was indeed a father. Father-to-be. Was he a father or father-to-be? He supposed father-to-be while she was pregnant, and then father once the baby popped out.

God, the idea of it was staggering.

“Where did you come from? Who’s that?” Doyle asked, pointing at Spike.

Spike cleared his throat and stuck out his hand to the Irish bloke. “I’m Spike. Or, William.”

Doyle’s gaze darkened immediately. He looked at the hand Spike proffered and then glared at him. Spike dropped his hand, feeling like a world-class asshole.

“I’m going in,” Buffy announced and started to waddle off.

Doyle lunged after her, his arm around her, cooing to her. Spike stared after them for a long moment before deciding that he was going to follow.

It was a flurry of paperwork once inside and Spike hung back, watching Buffy and Doyle interact. He had to be her boyfriend. Had to be. There was no other explanation for how well they communicated with one another. He seemed to instinctively know what she wanted and needed before she could even express it. He received his Lamaze question by watching them: He’d gone with her and he was most obviously her coach…among other things.

Everything felt so surreal to him at that moment, and he wasn’t really processing anything that was happening, but just going with it. He knew that he wanted to stay, wanted and needed to see his child, to somehow make this whole experience real to him.

He shuffled down the hall when they were led by a nurse to a room, and when Buffy was wheeled in by Doyle, Spike asked the nurse if he could join them. The nurse told him no, that it was just for the mother-to-be and the coach. He wanted to tell the woman that he was the father of that baby inside the mother-to-be, except he didn’t feel he had the right to say that. As much as that child was his, and he didn’t even question Buffy’s honesty— for why would she lie about something like that? – Spike did not feel he had any right to be anywhere near her or his child. He felt like an outsider, an observer, and that was all. And for all intents and purposes, that’s exactly all he was. It wasn’t as if he’d been with her over the past nine months. He hadn’t been given the chance to build up some kind of connection to his child, as difficult as that could be anyway. He hadn’t been there to take care of Buffy, to watch her belly swell with his seed, his child, his flesh and blood. Their flesh and blood. He hadn’t known of this at all. All he’d had were memories of her.

He’d found as time passed, he’d built her up in his mind as some kind of paragon of all the good things he could never have, but would be blessed if he could. She had almost reached sainthood in his eyes and he supposed that’s what happened when something ended much too quickly and, while it had lasted, was seemingly flawless. He constantly had to repeat to himself that it was just one night, and yet that had done nothing to wane his want of her.

It hadn’t stopped his activities much, however. Though, there had been a decline of sex and a lot more drinking in its place. Anything to get the hatred out. And when he was in need of a woman to dispel her from his system, he thought of her. He was sure that would do little to appease her. Hell, it did little to appease him these days.

In his musings, Spike hadn’t noticed right away Doyle coming out in the hall. Watching the Irish bloke come toward him, looking mad as hell, which was quite a jump since he’d seemed so patient and attentive to Buffy just seconds before, Spike felt his defenses go up. He wouldn’t put it past this fella to take a swing at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Doyle demanded.

Spike took a step back, hating to admit that he was slightly afraid of this man. Not because he didn’t think he could hold his own should Doyle take a swing, but because he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to fight. He was all about keeping the peace at that moment.

“She came to see me,” Spike told him, “She came to tell me she was pregnant.”

“She went to see you?”

“Look, I don’t know what you know--”

“I know everything,” Doyle said bitterly. “I know exactly who you are and what you’ve done. I’m very aware that baby is yours.”

“Which explains why you’re madder than hell right now. Look pal, you don’t know me--”

“I’m not upset with her for telling you. I’m trying to figure out what the hell you’re still doing here.”

Spike stared at him, aghast. “What do you mean, what am I still doing here? That’s my kid!”

“Are you still married?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with this--”

“It has everything to do with it! Why do you think she didn’t tell you to begin with you stupid sod?”

Spike glared at him, “Look, you don’t know anything about me--”

“And I don’t care to,” Doyle said simply. “All I need to know is that you hurt Buffy. That’s all you had to do to get the asshole award in my book.”

“What about the fact that she kept the fact that she was pregnant from me? How was that okay?”

“She didn’t think it was safe to tell you!”

“What did she think I would do? Take the child?” Spike balked at the idea of separating any child from their mother. Unless of course that child belonged to Cecily, then he would move heaven and earth to do so.

“If that bitch wife of yours got wind of it, she could have wanted to out of spite.”

“You obviously don’t know my wife; though you did get the bitch part right. She doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body.”

“Why should she have told you anything? You lied to her!”

“Isn’t omitting the truth a lie as well?” Spike challenged.

“You cheat on your wife for sport,” Doyle was seething in his anger. “How did you think she was going to be okay with that?”

“That didn’t give her the right to keep me in the dark about my kid.”

“Just leave her alone, Spike.”

“She came to see me. If she didn’t want me part of this, she wouldn’t have sought me out.”

“She’s also been moody and hormonal. I’ll bet she doesn’t even know why she sought you out. Just leave her be. Let her have her child and let her be happy. Don’t stick around if all you’re going to do is fuck her life up and her kid’s life. Give them a shot to have some happiness.” And with that, Doyle was going back to Buffy.

Spike stood there, staring at the door that Doyle had just retreated into. In that room was Buffy, the woman that had touched him so deeply once upon a time, the woman he thought about on a daily basis still, and that woman was currently in labor having their child.

Doyle’s words were ringing in his ears ‘Don’t stick around if all you’re going to do is fuck up her life and her kid’s life.’

Well, wasn’t that something? Wasn’t that him? A giant fuck-up. Buffy had been partly right those nine months ago. He couldn’t make Cecily happy, though he didn’t want to make her happy, and most of all, he couldn’t make himself happy. That was the kicker.

He’d hurt the girl. He’d thought…what? She’d overlook his marital status? Thought she’d never find out? They always found out. The truth had a way of always coming out, and usually at the most inopportune times. Though, what really would have been an opportune time?

If only…

He found himself thinking that quite often. If only he hadn’t been married and he’d met her. If only he’d never met Cecily, if only he’d said no to the marriage deal, if only he’d approached Buffy in high school…if, if, if. They fucked with his head, over and over and over again. Sometimes he pondered how else he could have worked it out. Maybe he could have just struck up a friendship with Buffy first and then she could have given him the strength he needed to up and leave Cecily and not care what she could do to him. But then he’d had to go and kiss her…his whole world changed in that moment.

His whole world, he figured, was just beyond those doors. The world that worth fighting for anyway.

He supposed he could take Doyle’s advice and go, not bother her and not bother to even get a glimpse of the baby that was going to be coming out of her at any moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

If he couldn’t see Buffy one more time, then he’d find some way to reconcile himself to that, but he wanted to see his child. Shuffling down the hall, Spike planted himself in the waiting room that was opposite the receiving room for all the infants, and waited.

*********

It was a boy. He had a son. Buffy had been right in her guess, but then, he hadn’t really doubted her, Buffy was a smart bird. Looking down at Brandon Wesley Summers, Spike welled up in tears. His boy was gorgeous, even if he couldn’t see much seeing as how he was swathed in blue from head to toe. Reading the sign, his boy was eight pounds, six ounces, and twenty two inches long. His eyes were closed but Spike knew all babies had blue eyes and, he knew, that boy would keep those blue eyes. The blue eyes of his father. Watching his boy sleep, Spike wept in joy and in sadness. If he were any other man than the man he currently was, he’d be running and shouting down the hall that he had a son. Except, he had no claim on this perfect bundle before him. He wasn’t a man, and he was even less of a father. A nurse coming in the room waved and smiled at him and Spike gestured for her to come closer.

“Buffy Summers, is she all right?” he asked, shouting slightly to be heard.

“She’s fine. Would you like to see her?”

Spike wanted to, but didn’t think he’d be received well and since she’d just given birth…

“No,” Spike mouthed and shook his head, his gaze retreating back to his son.

“Brandon Wesley Summers,” he said aloud, rolling his son’s name on his tongue, thinking he sounded regal.

Brandon Wesley Giles. Now that’d be something, wouldn’t it?

“Where have you been? You’re late,” Cecily said as soon as Spike entered the house.

He was worn out and not in the mood for her. All he wanted to do was shuffle off to his study, have a drink, and think about his son.

“Are you listening to me?” Cecily demanded watching him pour a whiskey at the bar in the dining room.

“Barely,” Spike answered.

“Why do you say such things to me?” Cecily whined.

“Because you’re annoying?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to be nicer to me.”

“It might, but while we’re casting stones here, how about you take some of your own advice and be nicer to me?” Spike drawled, taking a lot sip from his whiskey.

“Well,” Cecily said, grinning like madwoman and clapping her hands together like an excited school girl, “I’m about to be very nice to you.”

“You’re giving me a divorce?”

“You wish,” she said, disgustedly.

“You’re right, I do.”

“Ever think that the more I know you want one, the more I won’t give you one?”

“You don’t even love me, Cecily!”

“Love,” she balked, “What’s that? No such thing. I like you well enough, William.”

“Like me… so we’re bound for eternity as best mates, then? Do you realize that even best mates like us fuck each other once in a while?”

“That’s my good news, William. I’ve decided to put aside my concerns of growing fat and have a baby with you. I’ve spoken with my doctor and he gave me some tips. I’ve been off my birth control for over a month now--”

“Like that was needed anyway. We haven’t even had sex in …years,” Spike muttered.

Cecily continued on, “--I’m currently fertile and my temperature is just right to try and conceive.”

Spike nearly spit his whiskey out. “What??”

“I want us to have a baby now.”

His eyes narrowed, “Out with it, why do you want a child so bad now?”

Cecily pouted. “Can’t I just want to have a baby with you?”

“No, you can’t.” And I already have one.

“Why not?”

“’Cause you don’t just do something on a whim. What is it you’ll be getting if you have a baby with me?”

“My hand in the family business to make sure our child would be well provided for.”

“So, actually, more money for you.”

“Daddy said I didn’t have to show up for meetings or anything of that sort--”

“Of course not, why would you actually work?”

“But he said I would have my name on things as a silent partner. And our baby would then be set up with a trust fund.”

“Ah, which I’m sure you’d then find a loophole to dip into that. Greedy bitch.”

“It’s not just more money for me, William, its more money for you too. I wish you’d look at this reasonably.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes at him as if he were the dumbest man alive.

“There is nothing reasonable about you and I having a child, Cecily. For one thing, I can barely stand to touch you so getting it up for you would be virtually impossible. For another thing, now that I know you want a child – no way am I touching you!”

“You’re a disgusting man, you know that?” she screamed at him.

“Why don’t you ask one of your lovers to knock you up?”

“I don’t have any lovers, you arrogant jerk! You’re the one with all the lovers.”

Spike said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“And I’d suggest you get rid of them, William, before I tell Daddy and you lose everything.”

“I already don’t have anything, Cecily, so losing everything wouldn’t make much of a difference would it?”

“I made you into somebody, William, you’d do well to remember that,” she spat.

“I hate you!” he screamed at her.

“And you can continue to hate me, silly William. I’m never going to let you go. Think about the baby idea. Daddy would love it, you’d make him so proud, and all that nothing you claim to have could turn into something.”

She bounced away as if their exchange hadn’t happened and a revelation of sorts hit Spike: “I’d rather have nothing than something from you and your family.”

*********

Buffy was convinced that not only was sleep something she was never going to have again, but that her son was the most beautiful boy in the world.

“Does that feel weird?” Doyle asked, watching her breast feed with great interest.

Of course, Buffy was covered up as well she could, though she was of the mindset now that since everyone in the damn hospital had seen all her bits and pieces, there really wasn’t a thing as modesty anymore. At least not for her. And, after talking with Faith about her experience in delivery, Faith held the same feeling. However, it could be held accountable that Faith was never much one for modesty to begin with.

“No, not really. I mean, I think I’m used to it now. Just feels like little gums on my boob.”

Doyle laughed from his place on her recliner. “Interesting way to describe it.”

“So I was thinking this morning—“

“And that was at what time?” Doyle asked, smiling mischievously.

“Um…three I think. I was thinking while I fed him at three that I need to set up his college fund.”

“Already?”

“No time like the present. My boy is going places, I tell you.”

“Well, currently, he’s not even rolling over, so let’s not push too hard.”

“I’m not. My parents set up one for me when I was born. It helped a great deal, let me tell you. And when he gets older and gets an allowance, I can teach him the art of saving and convince him to put at least ten percent in his bank account.”

Doyle laughed again. “That’ll go over real well with a ten-year-old that wants to buy a Game Boy.”

“You’ll see,” Buffy chirped.

“Or, you will.”

Buffy gave him a mock glare and then went back to watching her son suckle his milk from her breast. Softly, she ran her fingers through his mop of brown curls.

“Buffy.”

“Yes?”

“Look at me, lass.”

Buffy looked up, feeling nervous suddenly by the look of unmasked adoration on Doyle’s face.

“You’re beautiful nursing him, taking care of him. You glow.”

“I do?” she laughed nervously. “I’ve had no sleep in a week!”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, and looked back at Brandon.

Silence fell and Buffy studied Brandon, marking for the hundredth time that day how he had his father’s nose and, she was sure when he was older, would have his father’s cheekbones as well.

A tear trickled down her cheek and hastily she wiped at it before Doyle could notice. Yet, he did. He always did.

“Lass, what is it?” he asked, concerned and came over to sit next to her on her couch, placing a warm, comforting hand on her back.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do, tell me.”

“I was just thinking that he…Brandon has his father’s features.”

“He has yours too.”

“Not as much as Spike’s.”

“Lass--”

“I know, I know,” she said wiping at her eyes with the receiving blanket she had on her lap, “I have to get over it, I know. But it’s just that it was one thing when I was pregnant, and now that he’s here…I see his father and it’s like I’m reminded that much more and…I’m going to get over it. I’m just hormonal right now.”

“You’re allowed, sweets.”

“I know, I just hate it.” Lifting Brandon and covering herself up, Buffy began to lightly pat her son’s back.

“Buffy—” Doyle started, but the doorbell cut him off.

“Who the hell is that?” Buffy muttered and stood, patting her son’s back still. He usually gave her at least two good burps and so far, she’d gotten none.

“Do you want me to get that?” Doyle asked.

“Nah, I got it.” Padding to the door, she opened it, expecting it to be Willow or Faith.

It wasn’t either.

“Spike,” she said, stunned.

“Hi, Buffy,” he said, nervously, his eyes darting to Brandon.

She held her son closer. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I wanted to see him,” Spike said, pointing to his boy.

“Why?”

“Buffy, I’m not here to take him from you. I wouldn’t do that, luv. I just want to see my son.”

She turned slightly so that Spike could get a better view of his face. “See?”

Spike stepped inside, his face lighting up brilliantly, making him look like a little boy at Christmas. “He’s so beautiful.”

As if he were waiting for that, Brandon let out a big burp.

“And gassy,” Spike joked and for the first time in a long time, Buffy and Spike shared a laugh.

”What ever makes you happy,
Whatever you want,
You’re so fuckin’ special,
I wish I was special.
But I’m a creep,
I’m a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here,
I don’t belong here…” Radiohead, Creep

Buffy watched Spike as he cooed at his son, taking his finger and allowing Brandon to wrap his finger around it in his sleepy state. His eyes immediately grew wet.

”Oh, God,” he whispered hoarsely.

“He’s amazing isn’t he?” Buffy asked softly.

“He is,” Spike said, his voice clogged with emotion.

“He blows me away everyday and all he does mostly is sleep and eat.”

He gazed at her in awe, “You gave birth to him.”

She smiled, “I did.”

“I asked how you did at the hospital.”

She stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I stayed. To see him.”

“Doyle never—“ she started, but was interrupted when Doyle came round the corner.

“Ah, the father,” he said bitterly.

Spike straightened. “Hello.”

“What do you want?” Doyle demanded, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I came to see my son.”

“Well, now you have so you can just toddle off now.”

“Doyle!” Buffy exclaimed as Brandon burped in her ear. Sighing she shook her head. Son came first, then drama. “I’m going to put him down for his nap,” she announced and shot Doyle a warning glare, “Play nice.”

Doyle shook his head, grumbling.

“Can I …” Spike started and broke off, clearing his throat, “Can I come with you?”

Buffy hesitated. What could it hurt to have him come with her, and yet at the same time, what good could come of it? Looking at Doyle, he was giving her a look that pretty much told her she’d be making a big mistake if she let him in. On the other hand…this was his son. Sure, she’d been all conviction-girl with the not telling when she was pregnant, but now that Brandon was here and Spike was here she felt she couldn’t keep Brandon from him and yet she was afraid to at the same time.

“Sure, you can come,” she said and ignored the disapproving look she was getting from Doyle. Maybe I’ll just never learn.

He followed her to Brandon’s room, the yellow and white room bright and inviting with the sun pouring in, causing everything to seem brighter and more chipper than they really were.

“I like the Humpty theme,” Spike murmured.

“Thanks. I didn’t really know what to do since I didn’t know the sex, but this seemed to work out well enough.”

Spike watched her place Brandon in his basinet, marveling at how tiny his son was, how handsome, and how much like the both of them mixed together. There was no doubt that was his child. No doubt at all.

“He’s a good sleeper for the most part,” Buffy explained. “He sleeps usually three to four hours at a time, eats, and is up for about two and a half hours or so before he goes back to sleep. Which makes it difficult since he eats every four so I’m trying to figure out if I should try to keep him up for that last hour and a half or if I should feed him just a little bit before he goes down.” Reaching out, she brushed a hand down his soft cheek. “Those are the big questions so far.”

“He’s beautiful, luv.”

“He really is.”

She straightened and stared at him over the crib for a minute before taking his sleeve and leading him away, shutting the door behind him. She led him down the hall to her bedroom and Spike felt a lump grow. Where we created him, he thought.

“What are you doing here?” she asked once she had shut the door.

“I told you, I came to see him.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? He’s my son.”

“I’m not sure that you should be here.”

“Then why did you let me in?”

“I don’t know.”

“And why did you come and see me to tell me about him?”

“I …I don’t know.”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “I think you do know, or otherwise you would have kept mum about it in the first place.”

“Or I made a stupid mistake and now I wished I hadn’t done it.”

“Yet, you did.”

“Well, I can’t take it back now, can I?”

”No, you can’t, but…we can figure it out from here, yeah?”

“Have you left your wife?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

Spike sighed, running a hand through his hair and rubbing slightly at his eyes. “No.”

“Then, no, I’m sorry; we can’t figure it out from here.”

He stepped back, feeling as though she’d just punched him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that as long as you are with your wife, you cannot see my son.”

”Our son.”

“As far as I’m concerned right now? Minor technicality.”

”How can you say that?” he roared,” We made him together, right here, in this room!”

“I only care about keeping my son safe and having him grow up in at least a semi-normal environment. That means I do not want his philandering father coming around and mucking him up with bad morals.”

“What about his liar mother not telling him about his father—not even bothering to tell his father until he’s already on the way out?”

“You have no right to come in here and start making judgment calls on me. Not after what you’ve done and are probably still doing,” Buffy said angrily, pointing at him.

“I’m not going to have Cecily involved, Buffy. She doesn’t even know about him.”

“Good, keep it that way. The last thing I need is that bitch getting her mitts on my son.”

“I wouldn’t let her near him, Buffy.”

“Yeah, cause you’ve done so well controlling that situation,” she snorted. “Please. Don’t start acting like you’re the man now when you’re not.”

“You bitch—“

“That’s right, I am. I am when it comes to that baby in there. He is the world to me and I’m not going to let you ruin him -- or me for that matter. You might think you’re getting the shit end of the stick here, but frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass. Not after you lied to me and basically made me your whore. If I hadn’t found out when I did, God only knows how long you would have kept me in the dark. That is not the kind of environment I want my son to grow up in. He’s an innocent. He has a chance here, despite the fact that I’m a single mother. I’m not going to let him grow up in a screwed up environment where he thinks its normal for his father to have knocked up another woman while he’s married. No freaking way.”

“Jesus Christ, when the hell did you become so fucking pious all of a sudden? Maybe you should have kept your legs together instead of giving it up for me on the first night--”

That did it. He’d crossed that line. With a resounding slap, Buffy smacked Spike so hard across the face his head whipped to the side and she could see the tell-tale signs of a hand mark across his cheek.

“I already have to live with what I did, and more than likely, Brandon is going to hate me one day for it, but that’s nothing compared to having you come around and fuck him up more. I don’t give a shit if you think I’m some kind of whore. You made me one that night. I cared about you, you asshole. You made me believe in love at first sight… I thought we had something—”

“Buffy, we did, I’m sorry--”

“Yeah, I know. You’re sorry. You’re so fucking sorry. If you were so sorry then you wouldn’t be here behind your wife’s back and asking me to drag our son into the mess that is your life. My life might be a mess, Spike, but at least I can not only admit it, but I’m trying to do something about it. What the hell have you done?”

There's a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
'Cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you'd only try turning around. ~ Anna Nalick Breathe (2AM)

Spike had pretty much gotten bitch-slapped; that’s what he figured anyway. It was the only way to describe how Buffy had firmly put him in his place and issued him an ultimatum.

He wanted to be mad at her, to tell her that she was being unreasonable and such an unnecessary pain in the arse, except he couldn’t. Because she was right. And he had nothing but respect for her and the fact that she wanted the best for her --their son-- and would see to it that he got the very best. She was a proud mother, and if provoked, a snarling Mama Bear.

She’d pretty much hit the nail on the head with him. What had he done to change the way things are? What kind of life was he leading – or not leading as the case may be? He knew there was a whole other life out there for him, a whole other person just waiting for him to be – the man he was supposed to be, the man he could have been if not for …everything. If he hadn’t gotten trapped into something he did not want, except…except that he’d really just ended up trapping himself, didn’t he? He’d allowed himself to stay stuck in the life he had out of fear, and made no move to change it -- not for the better anyway. And he could change things if he really wanted too, but why didn’t he? Fear.

He threw himself a pity party and never bothered to call it a night. Instead, he withdrew further and further into himself. He was a masochist, really. All he did, he didn’t really enjoy, it was an outlet for the anger he had built up inside him for feeling like a kept and restrained man. He felt sorry for himself and when he had no one to blame but himself for his position, he felt even worse. It was easy to blame others, that much more difficult to take the blame for your own mistakes. It took a kind of fortitude to say to yourself ‘I fucked up’ and even more to say ‘I am going to fix this in a positive way’. He’d done things in a negative way to make himself feel even shittier because that’s all he felt he deserved. And if he could drag others down with him, even better.

It also took, he wagered, a sense of self to make changes and to see things for how they were. Buffy seemed to have a sense of self in bundles, and he, well, he felt stinted in that area. At the time when he was just starting come into his own, and find out who he was, he met Cecily and became what she wanted him to be. He could see that now. As time grew, he realized he didn’t want to be that person, he wanted to be someone else. Being “Spike” wasn’t exactly him either. Who he was lay somewhere between the two and the only time he’d ever felt that he was that person was when he was with Buffy. William suffocated with Cecily, and Spike thrived. He wasn’t happy being all Spike, but there were aspects of him that he liked.

So now, sitting in an office that was not really his, but given to him as part of a package deal in a life he did not want any longer, Spike felt himself drift to fantasies of the person he wanted and needed to be for his son, for Buffy, and for himself. It was simply inconceivable to him to never see his son again, to never see him grow and to never be part of his life. He had two loving parents that had done everything they could for him, and he wanted Brandon to have that as well. How one could fall in love so instantly with their child was simply amazing to him. All it took was a look, and then a finger hold to seal it.

His heart ached as he sat there, watching the Boston skyline. He missed his son, and he missed Buffy. He missed the person he had started to become, and he wanted desperately to try and become that man again. He wanted to be the kind of father Brandon could look up to and be proud of; emulate. He wanted to deserve Buffy, to be part of her life and he wanted to be more than ‘Brandon’s father’. He wanted Buffy’s love. Though her being with Doyle did put a wrench into that. He’d wait, and even if he was never bestowed with her love, then he’d at least prove to her, and himself, that he in fact could be faithful to one woman for the rest of his life. And if there ever was such a woman that could make him do it, it was Buffy, of that he was sure.

He had to get out, and there was no more time for hemming and hawing, letting fear rule him and then end by being cowardly and not doing it, only to later take it out on some woman. It was time. Brandon was going to grow up fast, and he wasn’t getting any younger.

With a cleansing sigh that did little to calm his nerves for what he was about to do, Spike picked up the phone book and dialed the number he held in his hand on a Yellow Post it. “Hi, I saw an ad in the paper for the apartment and I’d like to see it. Today, if possible.”

********

Walking with Brandon was Buffy’s favorite part of the day. She got some fresh air; he got some fresh air, people stopped to gush at how adorable he was, and she felt connected to the world. Staying inside the house all day lost its appeal after a while. Once upon a time she’d harbored the fantasy of working out of the house and never having to leave her sanctuary. Now, she felt she’d rather put a bullet in her brain than even attempt that. She knew Faith was already considering staying home and not returning to work, however while Buffy pondered the idea, it was just not realistic and just not something she wanted to do. While the thought of leaving Brandon anywhere with anyone filled her with dread, she also knew there was no other way. She had to work, and even if she didn’t, she’d want to. Buffy was a woman that had to be on the move and in constant contact with others. Which was another reason to get out on their daily walk around Boston Common.

“Hello, Buffy.”

Stopping short, Buffy looked up to see Spike. She could hardly believe it. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of him for nine months after she’d walked out of his building that day, but now she couldn’t get rid of him. Not that she wanted to, and yet at the same time…God, it was confusing. Mostly he just annoyed her for resurfacing feelings that she did not want to revisit and most certainly wanted to put to rest.

“Hi.”

He leaned over the carriage, “How is he today?”

“He’s well. We’re taking our afternoon walk.”

“You take one every day?”

“Yes.”

“Same time?”

“Mostly. What are you doing?”

He straightened and met her gaze. “I’m on my way to look at an apartment.”

“Oh? Cecily kick you out?”

“No, that would never happen.”

“So…your recent fling doesn’t want to have to go back to her place all the time? Or, wait, I got it,” she held up her hand before he could speak, “Your married life is cutting into the bachelor lifestyle you lead on the side and it’d be more convincing that you were in fact single if you had your own pad.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he shook his head, looking down. “Okay, I deserved that.”

“Yep. You did.”

“But that’s not it.”

“Then…?”

“I’m leaving her.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped, “You’re what?”

“I’m leaving her.”

“What brought that on?”

“You,” he pointed down to Brandon, “Him.”

“Wow.”

“You got me thinking the other day and you were right, Buffy. I haven’t done anything to get myself out of the mess I’m in. I figured it’s time I started doing something about that. You don’t want me to see him while I’m with her and ‘philandering’, then I’ll leave her.”

“And still whore yourself around?”

“No.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Yeah, that’ll work,” she said dryly.

“Buffy….” He sighed, “I’m terrified here, luv. I’m leaving my wife who, along with her family, can and most likely will smite me. It’s not peaches and cream with her—“

“Yeah, I got that memo in high school that she was the biggest bitch of the East Coast. How did you miss it?”

“I kept to myself in high school. I was more interested in the people in my books than the three dimensional people around me.”

“Guess you’re paying for that now, huh?”

“I’m paying for a lot of things now, Buffy.”

“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t feel sorry for you.”

“I didn’t figure you would.”

“And you’ll also have to forgive me if I’m not exactly convinced that you’re actually going to follow through on it, or that I want to be around you if you do it, and if I even want you to have something to do with Brandon at all.”

“A paternity test can prove that he’s my son easily enough. You can’t keep him from me.”

“I can when the courts hear what you’ve done. I can damage you just as easily as Cecily.”

“Buffy, please… I’m trying,” he said dejectedly.

“That means nothing to me. I don’t see it. I hear talk and that’s it.”

“Then come with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come with me to see the apartment.”

“Why?” she asked incredulously.

“So you can see that I’m not just talking, that I’m doing something.”

“It’s going to take more than seeing an apartment to convince me, Spike.”

“Please, Buffy, just come have a look with me.”

Against her better judgment, and wanting to kick herself after it flew out of her mouth, Buffy replied with a “Fine” on a heavy sigh.

Should have left you standing right where you stood
Should have let you go, should have had the sense to know
Like a train you'd come, and I'd lose my place
Now I'm on this trip, I took a fall from grace~ MadonnaThe Look of Love


Why, why, why am I going with him? Buffy thought as she followed Spike to his ‘apartment’, pushing Brandon along in his stroller. I must really be under it to be doing this. He hasn’t exactly been peaches and cream to me. I’m just the whore he knocked up in his eyes…so why is he doing this? Why am I doing this?

Deciding to put voice to that, Buffy came out with it. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“What do you mean why am I doing this? I thought it was clear.”

“Yeah, cause that’s what you are, Spike. Clear. Forthright. In fact, I can always count on you to give it to me straight. Honesty is your middle name--”

He stopped and turned to her. “Okay, I get it, pet.”

“No, I really don’t think you do get it, or ever will for that matter.”

“I just told you I was trying!”

“Yeah, you’re trying all right,” she muttered. “You have much more ‘trying’ to do than getting an apartment. That’s one step of many.”

“And what? You’re so incredibly flawless? You’ve never made a mistake?”

“How long have you been married to her?”

He stared at her. “Too long.”

“Define too long,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Five years,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, okay, so you’ve been making the same mistake repeatedly for five years. So…how many siblings will Brandon be going to school with?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I’m just wondering how many aside from me you’ve knocked up.”

“None.”

“That you know of.”

“They would have told me.”

“How do you know? I wasn’t going to tell you,” she retorted, matter-of-factly.

He narrowed his eyes curiously, “And what made you tell me anyway?”

“I’m a glutton for punishment I guess.”

He heaved a sigh and met her eyes, looking at her imploringly, “Buffy, look. I don’t believe I have ‘knocked up’ anyone else. As far as I know, you’re the first. I’m usually very steadfast about using protection. You…you were the first that I…” he shook his head, “You made me lose my head. I wanted you so much I couldn’t see straight. All I could see and feel was you.”

Buffy staved of a shiver at his words and tried her best to not let those words affect her, even if she felt a stirring of something in her belly. She’d felt the same way. It did not however, change the fact that he’d lied. Lied to many, not just her. It brought to the forefront the question of how could she in actuality feel anything for him at all when all of it had been one gigantic fabrication? He most likely presented himself in a manner that was conducive to getting her where he wanted her: In bed.

Though, she was the moron that fell for it all. She knew the games men played, knew the lines and the moves…she should have known. And yet, she didn’t. She thought it was real. It felt real. But it wasn’t. She felt split down the middle when it came to him, and being around him. One part of her wanted to fall back in his arms and have him make it all okay, and the other part wanted to rail at him –the way she was currently—for making her believe him, for hurting her, for being the kind of man that cheated on his wife. She’d engaged in an affair once before and she swore to never do it again. No woman should do something like that to another woman. Men screwed women over well enough on their own without assistance from their ‘sisters.’

“I have made mistakes, you know. And I regret a lot of them,” she said softly. “A lot of what I’ve done would probably put me in the same category as you.”

“Maybe you could cut me some slack then, Buffy.”

She shook her head, “I don’t know you well enough to cut you any slack. Which, really, right there is indication enough of how right you were for calling me a whore.”

He sighed, “Buffy, I don’t think you’re a whore.”

“Nice back pedal, but I’m sure that’s what you think of most of the women you ‘bag’. Not many good girls go for one-night-stands, and in my weak defense, I really thought we had a connection that night. But then, you’re most likely used to hearing those things aren’t you?”

“Would it help or make it worse to say that I only felt it with you? That I was truly myself with you? I don’t talk literature with just anyone, Buffy.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, “But I guess that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Spike gestured to Brandon, “I’d say it matters at least a little.”

“You want to be part of his life, huh? I mean, for real?”

“Yes, Buffy, I do.”

“I don’t know, Spike, I just don’t know about that.”

“I know.”

“Despite what you say about having been the real you with me, I have a hard time trusting that.”

“I know, luv, I know you do and I can’t blame you. You’re right. I haven’t been forthright with information.”

“You could have told me at any time you were married,” she told him.

“You wouldn’t have…you wouldn’t have been with me.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have.” Her eyes welled up in tears, as she looked up at him. “But I would have rather retained the idea that you were an honest and genuine person than hating you as I have.”

He looked completely crestfallen by the thought. “You don’t know how much I want to change that.”

“I don’t know how you can right now…”

“Can you do me a favor, luv?”

She raised a brow, suspicious. “What?”

“Call me William, not Spike.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes me feel more like that man I need to be, and was, with you.”

“I’ll try my best.”

He smiled, “Thank you. Come on, luv, let’s go see that apartment, hmm?”

Taking a deep breath, Buffy followed, suddenly everything feeling completely surreal. Were things ever going to get back to normal in her life?

********

“What the hell are you thinking?” Faith asked Buffy later over dinner.

Buffy stared off at Robin who was holding their son, Marcus, burping him, and then down at Brandon who was making small, whimpering noises in his bouncy seat at her.

She smiled at him and then looked at Faith. “I’m really not thinking.”

Faith sat back, her arms folded across her chest. “You know you’re just asking for trouble.”

“I know.”

“Buffy…you went on and on about making changes and you’ve been doing so good—“

”Have I?”

“Yes, you have!”

“Or have I just been pregnant?”

Faith stared at her, “What?”

“I’ve been pregnant, ergo no man really wants to get with a pregnant lady—“

“Yeah, I just have to say that’s not true,” Robin interjected and stood up, taking Marcus with him.

Faith smiled at his retreating figure and then looked at Buffy sternly. “He’s right. You could have found anyone while you were pregnant.”

“Well aside from that period where I really wanted it, I wasn’t in the mood for men.”

“Exactly.”

“But I should be able to be into men, but not be a whore about it.”

“I really hate that guy,” Faith said, scowling.

”He just…” Buffy shook her head, frustrated, “He makes me remember my past and what I’ve done and what I was…that girl is not so far removed from me now and I hate that. I hate being reminded of what I’ve done.”

“You’re not the same person anymore, Buffy.”

“Have I really changed all that much? If I’d changed then…then I wouldn’t have gone home with him in the first place. What was I thinking? I wasn’t. I was letting my hormones lead the way. What a fine excuse that is.”

“Stop beating yourself up about this! Everyone has had one night stands before—“

“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want to have a one-night-stand, Faith. I wanted…I wanted more. So really, I’m just even that much more pathetic. Not only am I slut for taking someone home the first night, but then I’m the psycho clinger that wants more after. How deranged is that? I mean, if you’re going to have a one-night-stand, at least have the decency to know that it’s just that and there will be no more, and for God’s sake, use protection!” Tears were streaming down her face now, tears of frustration.

“Buffy, honey, you need to stop,” Faith said sternly, reaching across the table and taking Buffy’s hand in hers, squeezing it hard. “This man comes back in your life—”

“Also my fault.”

“—And you’re a mess. How is this any good for you?”

“It’s not. But it’s not about me. It’s about Brandon. Who am I to deny him his father?”

“You’re his mother, and you can deny him if he doesn’t change. You were right before, you don’t have to put him in a situation that is just going to fuck him up.”

“And what about me?” Buffy asked through her tears. “What am I going to do for him?”

“You’re going to do what’s right. And you know what’s right, Buffy, you do. Have some faith in yourself.”

“What happened to the woman that didn’t want me to not tell him?” Buffy quipped, extracting her hand from Faith’s and wiping her tears away with the napkin in her lap.

“She’s…still there,” Faith said, smiling weakly. “But…I’m allowed to change my mind, and I did. I know that I could not do what you’re doing alone…I know it, but I see how you are doing with a significant other and I have to marvel at it. Then that bastard comes into your life once more and … he just causes a mess. He makes you doubt yourself, he shakes up your foundation, and I just have to marvel at his power in doing it.”

“Maybe the foundation wasn’t that strong to begin with.”

“Or maybe you just need to stop giving him power over you,” Faith countered.

“How does he do it? I don’t even know,” Buffy said, holding up her hands.

“I know, Buffy, and so do you.”

Buffy stared at Faith intently for a minute before turning her focus to her son. “Yeah, I do.”

“And I’m not talking about Brandon.”

Buffy laughed mirthlessly, “Neither am I.”

I think there’s something you should know,
I think it’s time I stopped the show
there’s something deep inside of me,
there’s someone I forgot to be,
take back your picture in the frame,
don’t think that I’ll be back again,
I just hope you understand
sometimes the clothes do not make the man.
All we have to do now
is take these lies and make them true
somehow,
all we have to see,
is that I don’t belong to you
and you don’t belong to me, yeah, yeah--
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom George Michael, Freedom 90

It was time to go. Cecily was gone, making a weekend out of shopping with her friends, and instead of planning to go out and get laid and drunk, Spike was packing. Looking at what he had, at what he could conceivably bring with him, didn’t leave him much. Everything was hers, her family’s, theirs, not his. Thankfully, his apartment was half furnished with a sofa, a kitchen table, some chairs and an easy boy. He’d have to get the rest, including a bed, the following day. He didn’t have a bachelor pad from which to draw from, no comfy, beat up couch in the garage or basement he could drag with him and set up in his apartment with a sense of satisfaction that he was returning to the wild.

He’d missed out on a lot, hadn’t he? Well, what he missed out on, he made up for in affairs. He chuckled humorlessly and stuffed some white undershirts in a suitcase.

He’d had to do some fancy footwork to make sure that what he could take, monetary wise, was his. He figured out what he made for pay and took that, making sure not to dip into any of the ‘extra’s’ Cecily’s father put in their joint account. If he’d been smart, he would have set up an account of his own long ago, but hey, live and learn, right? And he’d learned a lot thus far. They couldn’t go after what he made on his own. They just couldn’t. And thankfully, he didn’t spend all that much, so he had enough to get by for a while. He knew that come Monday, he was no longer going to have a job, and he was hoping he could find one soon before the slander started.

God, he was scared. Terrified, really. And whom could he go to talk to about it? Xander, no, they were still barely talking. Oz…no. Buffy? Maybe…Or he could just bite the bullet and call Xander. Tell him what he was doing and maybe get his friendship back on track.

He could have Xander help him get set up, show him the new pad and start off on the right foot with his old friend as well.

Whipping out his phone, Spike called his friend with trepidation. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey,” Xander said slowly, cautiously. “What’s up?”

“I need a favor.” And he held his breath.

Xander sighed, “What?”

“I’m moving out this weekend and I was wondering if you could help me out?”

During the brief silence that felt like minutes when it was really seconds, Spike held his breath.

“You’re moving out?” Xander asked in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“You’re leaving her?”

“Yes.”

“Dude, what time you need me?”

********

At first things had been strained with the two friends. Xander seemed hesitant to ask too many questions or to know too much lest he find what he learned undesirable. Plus, he admitted to feeling that maybe he ditched him, left him high and dry to deal with his miserable life on his own, and maybe he should have tried harder to help him get out.

“That wasn’t your responsibility,” Spike told him as they were walking through a discount furniture shop.

“I know, man, but I felt bad for up and leaving. Yet, I didn’t know what else to do. Anya was all worried that I’d do something like that, that I was doing something like that and I didn’t want to fuck things up with her, ya know?”

Spike nodded, “I know.”

“And then she made me keep quiet about Buffy being pregnant—“

“Whoa,” Spike stopped abruptly. “You knew about that?”

Xander looked down, shuffling his feet on the hardwood floor. “I did.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What was I supposed to?” Xander asked, a slight whine in his tone. The tone of someone who felt trapped and guilty.

“Tell me, that was what you were supposed to do,” Spike said darkly, reaching for his cigarettes, and then realizing he couldn’t smoke in the store, threw up his hands with a disgruntled sigh. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“Whoa, now let’s swing the judgmental pendulum the other way there, friend. How was I supposed to know that this one you care about? This one you want to really be with? For all I knew, you would have been glad to not know and then if Cecily found out…it was better for me to stay out of the mess than get in the thick of it.”

“That what Anya told you to think or what you thought on your own?”

“You’re one to talk about being pussy-whipped,” Xander said easily, halfway matter-of-fact, and halfway sarcastic.

“I’m leaving aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you wait until she’s gone to do it instead of telling her to her face.”

”Who the fuck cares how I did it? Just that I’m doing it. Jesus Christ, I can’t do anything right, can I?” Spike said incredulously, his voice rising, causing people to look and stare.

“Well, according to you, none of us can either.”

Spike shook his head. “You don’t know how hard it would have been to leave if she was there, Xander.”

Xander sighed heavily, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “Christ, man, I know. I’m sorry. You’re right. At least you’re leaving her. That’s all that counts, right?”

“And I’m going to try and do right by Buffy and my son.”

“You’ve got to. If you don’t…I don’t think the mob that is Buffy’s friends will let you survive.”

“Are you my friend again?” Spike asked lightly, slightly teasing his friend with a hint of seriousness. He needed to have his friend back, needed the support of him to help him through the crap that was inevitably going to hit the fan and soon.

Xander straightened, “I always have been, Spike. I just needed to take some time away from it all, ya know? I couldn’t stand to be around it and be part of it anymore, ya know?”

“I know,” Spike whispered, nodding. “I understand.”

”And I will stand by you. I’ll help you through the mess that is sure to come.”

Surprising them both, Xander hugged his friend, patting his back. “Good to have you back, man.”

********

Buffy was staring at the computer screen before her, getting lost in the sea that was looking for proper daycare. Her cell ringing beside her didn’t do much to jar her out of her studying and she grabbed it absently, still staring at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hi, luv, it’s me.” Spike.

She decided to tease him. “Does ‘me’ have a name?” She asked, sitting back, a slight grin curling the corners of her mouth.

“You know very well who it is,” he teased her back, the smile in his voice apparent, tinged with weariness.

“Hello, Spike.”

“William,” he corrected.

“Right. William. What’s up?”

“What are you doing?”

“Looking up daycare facilities online and articles on what to look for, what not to look for…you?”

“I moved today, sweetheart.”

She froze. She’d grown accustomed to ‘luv’, ‘pet’, and the occasional ‘kitten’. She quickly learned that was just him; just part of his vocabulary, but sweetheart? That was new. And she did not like the way it warmed her and made her heart quicken. No, that would not do. And what was she doing teasing him as if they were old pals? Do you remember what he did, Buffy? the angry voice inside her head asked. “Spi—William—“

“I should have said that, I’m sorry,” he said softly, regretfully.

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

“I wanted to know…could you come over? I wanted you to see it furnished. Well, partially furnished. I am getting more tomorrow in the way of furniture, but I have some now.”

She sighed heavily, “Um, well, now?”

“Yeah, kitten, now. Please?”

“Sure. Brandon’s going to be getting up soon, I’m sure. After I feed him, we’ll head over.”

“Thank you, Buffy. It means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, sure, welcome,” and she hung up. Tears stung her eyes and she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. God, why was it so fucking hard to talk to him? Just a simple conversation filled her with so much. She liked it better when they were at each other’s throats. When he was so sweet to her it made her think of the man she had met and conceived Brandon with. That man was a liar. That man cheated on his wife. That man was not Spike, William, or whatever the hell his fucking name was. When he was like this, he was that man she had started falling so hard for and she had to fight to remember what he’d done and how she’d hurt for so long. How she’d spent many nights alone and wishing that he could be what she’d imagined him in her head to be. And now he was back in her life because she had opened her big, fat hormonal mouth and told him on a whim about Brandon. And now…now he was in her life, wanting to a Daddy to Brandon, wanting to be some kind of permanent fixture in their lives and it was just a reminder of all of it. It felt like too much.

The fact was she was lonely. She wanted someone special to curl up with and yet at the same time, she was afraid of it, afraid of making the wrong choices again. She was such a fuck-up when it came to relationships, and Spike—William—was just a reminder of that. He made her face her demons, and he didn’t even know it.

Sighing, she heard Brandon let out a softy cry, and she went to him. Swooping him up in her arms, she kissed him. “Your Daddy has requested your presence. Momma’s gonna feed you and off we’ll go for a little while, okay, baby?”

Brandon made gurgly noises at her and she smiled. Well, William had been able to give her one thing that she was she didn't want to take back.

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain ~ The Police, King of Pain

Spike opened the door to Buffy and his son, feeling nervous. It wasn’t often that he did feel nervous, but this was what she reduced him to. He chalked it up to the fact that she held his future in her hands. At least, that’s how he felt anyway. She had the power to keep Brandon from him if she so wished and the thought was more than a little daunting to him. Then there was the fact of the feelings she provoked in him. It was one thing when they hadn’t seen each other and all he had were his memories of her, but now she was back in his life in some sense and those old feelings were giving way to new ones; real ones.

Buffy appeared nervous as well, that was the first thing he noticed when she passed by him, trailing behind her the scent of raspberries. He fought the urge to shut his eyes and just bask in her scent alone. He couldn’t even begin to count how many times he’d caught a whiff of her over the past nine months and was immediately lost in his memories of her.

“It looks…better,” she said in faux cheeriness, looking around his almost bare living room that consisted of his sofa, easy boy TV and now a coffee table, courtesy of Xander. At least it was more than white walls, which is the gist of what she’d seen the last time.

“Thanks, I just got some furniture today that will be delivered tomorrow and I at least have a bed for tonight. I was quite adamant about getting one of those.”

Placing Brandon on the floor in his car seat, she undid the latches and pulled him out. “Want to see Daddy’s home?” she cooed softly at him.

Spike nearly swooned. She was such a good mother and watching her just made him ache all the more for her. He never could imagine Cecily as a mother, knowing full well the woman would have hired nannies to bring their child up – God forbid anything should encroach on her alone time or her shopping time or anytime that was not devoted specifically to pampering herself and tending to her needs. Buffy, on the other hand, he could see foregoing her comfort for that of their son. She’d sooner throw herself in front of a truck than let any ill will befall him.

As well a mother should be. It was the way his mother was, and his father too actually. It was the way he felt about Brandon. Except…he feared that ill will in the form of Hurricane Cecily would befall all of them, that is, if she found out about him. Spike was going to work damn hard to make sure Cecily knew nothing of Brandon or Buffy. His first step had been to leave Cecily and pledge to be there for them, his second step was to do everything in his power—feeble as it might be – to protect them both from any and all Adams’.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, lurching forward to play host.

“Uh, sure. What do you have?”

“You like Diet Coke, right?”

She smiled, “Yes, William, I do. Thank you.”

His heart swelled. As small as it seemed, he felt on top of the world for having got that part right. It was the little things here and there that ended up amounting to so much later on, right?

She followed him past the living room and the dining room into the kitchen. “Will?”

God, he loved hearing his real name on her lips. “Yes?”

“What did she say?”

Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out the two liter soda and went to the cabinet next to the fridge to take out a glass. “I haven’t told her yet.”

“What?” she sounded incredulous.

“I haven’t told her. I left her a note. She’s away this weekend.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I just…she wouldn’t have let me leave otherwise.”

“But…what now? I mean, is she going to let you stay gone? If she wouldn’t have let you leave, how do you know she’ll let you stay …gone?”

“She’ll fight me, but there’s nothing much she can do now. I’m gone.”

“This is a personal question, but do you have money?”

“I took what I’ve earned; I will get by for a while at least.”

“Will they try to take it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“What will you do?”

Turning, Spike met her eyes. “I will divorce her. I said I would and I am going to do it.”

She stared at him, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Do you…want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed, “Oh God, yes.”

“Are you scared?”

“Terrified.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid of what she’ll do…” he stared at his son in her arms. “Can I take him?”

Nodding, Buffy cradled Brandon head and passed him over to Spike. Smiling widely, almost goofily, Spike took his son and cradled him in arms, staring down at the perfect bundle they’d created. “God, he’s so perfect.”

“This is the first time you’ve held him isn’t it?”

“It is,” Spike gushed, unable to tear his eyes away from their son.

“I get that way with him too. Just so…overwhelmed. Never thought I could love anything so much.”

Spike looked up at her, his expression filled with adoration for her, his eyes full of emotion. “Buffy, God, I…Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For …him. For you, for--”

“Don’t thank me,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re letting me in his life.”

“I’m not doing it for you; I’m doing it for him.”

Spike nodded, “Thank you just the same.”

“What’s next on your plan?” she inquired, taking her glass and sipping the cool and bubbly liquid.

“Monday, I see an attorney. My own attorney, not one supplied by the Adams’.”

“Did you leave her an address of where you are?”

“No, but she can call me.”

“What is it you’re exactly terrified of, William?”

“Everything. I’ve never been on my own like this before. Sad, isn’t it? Here I am, thirty years old and the only time I’ve ever had freedom was when I was in college…before her. I’m terrified of what tricks she’ll pull, of what her family will do. It’s pretty much a fact that I won’t have a job come tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“It’s when she comes home from a weekend excursion with her friends.”

“Oh.”

“Her father will fire me immediately; I have no doubt of that.”

“So are you even bothering to go in on Monday?”

He shook his head, “What’s the point?”

“So, what will you do for work?”

“Not sure yet…Buffy, this was not exactly a long thought out plan. I made the decision to go and so I went.”

“Impulsive.”

“You say that as if you’re calling me stupid.”

“Well…” Buffy said, trailing off.

“Buffy, if I didn’t go when I had the urging to go, I never would have done it.”

“I don’t understand that. Are you in love with her?”

“Not at all.”

“Then…why would you have stayed?”

“Because sometimes it’s easier to stay in a bad situation than to make a change that is absolutely terrifying.”

“Why do I feel as though I’ve set myself up to be blamed for this?” Buffy muttered.

“I don’t blame you. I thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“You gave me the impetus to go,” Spike said simply.

“Will you still feel the same when she pulls out the big guns?” Buffy asked, placing her glass down.

“Yes, I will. Buffy, you know as well as I do that I had to go. I wasn’t living my life with her. I was living someone else’s.”

“Is that why you cheated on her? Were you living your life when you did that?”

He shook his head, “I thought I was at first.”

“And then?”

“I changed.” He kept her gaze, willing her to see that it was because of her that he changed. When she said nothing, he continued. “You make me want to be a better man.”

She shook her head, putting up her hands. Turning, she walked away from him. “Don’t put that on me.”

Spike followed, “Why not? It’s true.”

“Because I don’t want that responsibility.”

“It’s not so much a responsibility as it is a gift, Buffy.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not someone to be inspiring others to become better at anything.”

“You’re a teacher aren’t you? Don’t you inspire others to aspire to their best everyday?”

“That’s different,” she said, exasperated.

“How?”

“That’s my professional life. You don’t know anything about me, William. You don’t know what I’ve done in my past.”

“Do you think your past defines you?”

That question threw her. “No, not completely,” she said slowly, trying to weigh in what her thoughts were on that. “I think it helps shape you.”

“So then your past and my past has shaped us, but it is not who we are.”

“And if you feel your past in you? If you still feel that part of that person you don’t want to be is inside you?”

Spike chuckled nervously. “I don’t have the answer to that, pet. I’m still trying to break free from who I was and who I want to be.”

“And who is that you want to be?”

“The man that I was becoming before I met Cecily. My own person. Who is it you want to be?”

Buffy let out a short laugh and gazed at her son in Spike’s arm. “I want to be . . . I want to be someone worthy of being his mother.”

“You are pet, you are.”

“I want to be worthy of love.”

“Buffy…” he murmured softly. “You are.”

“I don’t want a torrid kind of love,” she continued, staring at Brandon intently, her eyes watering with tears. “I want…a pure kind. The old-fashioned kind that feels fated and destined. The kind that doesn’t hurt and make demands;I want the kind of love that is new and fresh and just… pure. Does that make sense?”

“Does that exist, Buffy?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. It exists in my books and in my fantasies. But, I don’t know that I’m deserving of something like that if it does exist in the so-called real world.”

“If you’re not deserving, then I know for damn sure that I’m not,” Spike muttered.

“I wonder if that kind of love only exists for innocents and for parents.”

“Innocents? Is there such a thing as that in this day and age?” Spike snorted, placing Brandon in his car seat and jiggling a rattle at him.

“I’d like to think that somewhere it exists,” she said conversationally, sitting next to him on the couch. “I’d like to think that among the treachery, the backstabbing and cheating out there, there are pure and innocent souls that have a fighting chance. That it’s not all about sex and money and power. That there are those that really do believe that love is all you need, and that there are knights in shining armor willing to go to bat for the damsels they love, and the damsels are there to comfort them after a long, hard day in battle and take away their pain.” Wrapping her arms around herself and gazing down at Brandon, she sighed wistfully. “At least, I’d like that for him. I want him to be a knight for some damsel, and I want some damsel for him. I want him to keep his purity and his innocence for as long as he can.”

“Buffy…” Spike started and then broke off, unable to look at her for the welling of powerful and overwhelming feelings that were overcoming him. He felt the rawness of her desire so strong; it became his own desire, his own need.

“Yes?” Buffy prompted after a while.

“I want that too,” he whispered back. “I want that for him too.” And, truth be told, he wanted that for himself. He wanted to be her knight, and he wanted her to be his damsel. He didn’t know how to express it however, and he didn’t know how to tell her that he too felt too jaded, too used and abused to be worthy of all that.

“I’m so glad we came out to lunch so you could ignore me.”



Buffy absently picked at her salad, “Yeah, me too.”



“Buffy,” Doyle said, reaching across the table and tapping her hand.



She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Doyle. What did you say?”



He frowned, “I said I’m glad we came out to lunch so you could just ignore me.”



“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh, sitting back and glancing down at Brandon who was gurgling softly in his car seat propped up the booth.



“You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” Doyle asked dryly.



“What?”



“Spike. You’ve seen him. You get like this when you see him.”



“Get like what?”



“Pensive, almost sad.”



She shrugged and picked up her fork, pushing some lettuce around. “I’m fine.”



“What did Wonder Boy have to say now to make you feel like shit?”


”He didn’t do anything—“



“Defending him now, too.”



“Doyle, knock it off!” Buffy exclaimed more forcefully than she’d intended. And you don’t need to say ‘him’ like that. Like it’s dirty.”



Doyle shook her head. “Fine. So, what happened?”



“He left his wife.”



Doyle’s expression did not change, it remained blank as he sat back and regarded her. “Oh, really?”



“Yes. He’s got a new place and everything.”



“You’ve seen it?”



“Yes. I went there the other night.”



He continued to stare at her.



“I didn’t do anything,” she said indignantly. “We just talked. And you know what? I shouldn’t have to defend myself to you anyway or justify anything I’ve done or haven’t done.”



“Did I say anything?”



Buffy scowled at him. “You don’t have to. I can tell.”



Doyle sighed heavily and sat up; leaning across the table he looked at her imploringly. “I’m sorry.”



“I know everyone hates that I talk to him and that he’s…there, somewhere, somehow in my life, but everyone is just going to have to get used to it for the time-being. You think I like having him around?”



“Yes.”



“Shut up.”



Doyle chuckled, “Well, don’t you?”



Buffy looked at her best friend, regarding him thoughtfully with a slight frown. “I don’t know. Yes and no.”



“Tell me about the yes.”



“I’d rather not.”



“Come on,” he waved his hand at her, encouraging her to speak. “Unload on me.”



“No, I don’t want to.”



“Why not?”



“Cause it’s all I think about it and I’m tired of it.”



“Can I wager a guess?”



“I’d prefer you didn’t.”



“Do you love him?”



“I don’t even know him, how can I love someone I don’t know and who lied to me?”



“You didn’t answer the question. I didn’t ask why you shouldn’t love him, I asked if you did. Or, rather, do.”


”No,” she said adamantly, and it was just a little too adamant.



“I almost believe you,” Doyle said smirking.



“What do I have to do to prove it to you?” she asked, a challenge in her voice.



“Let me take you out.”



*********



Not surprisingly, Cecily had called Spike immediately upon finding his “Dear John” letter, screeching into the phone about how much ‘trouble’ he was in. He refrained from telling her she sounded like a child that was going to ‘tell on him’. And, well, that’s exactly what she was going to do.



“Who is it? Hmm? Who have you left me for? One of your whore’s no doubt,” Cecily had railed at him. “You just wait, you son-of-a-bitch. I will find out and I will destroy you and her.” Spike tried his best not to let her words frighten him. He was a grown man, and yet he felt more like a child when it came to his soon-to-be ex-wife and her family.



She hung up then, Spike really not having had the chance to get a word in edgewise. He shivered at her words. Not for him, but for Buffy and Brandon. The last thing he wanted was for his son to be exposed as a bastard. All those things Buffy wanted for him, he could see slipping away once Cecily and her family got her hands on him. Figuratively speaking of course.



That was enough to almost send him running back to her, just to keep the peace and not rock the boat. But how would cowering do anyone any good? What kind of example would that set for Brandon? And how hard would he have to fight to see him if he did that? Even if he did go back to her, Cecily would still seek to find out about Buffy and Brandon and ruin them out of vengeance. Out of pride. Not because she loved Spike, but because he dared make her look bad by leaving her.



He hated the weakness he felt. How she’d “trained” him to cower. No one understood it, and hell, he was having a hard time understanding it himself. This was not the kind of man he had envisioned himself to be. This was not “Spike”.



So, come Monday, after a cryptic message from his father-in-law that he should really think about “what he’s done and fix it”, Spike started calling attorney’s.



Talk about hitting a brick wall.



A few just downright refused once they heard whom he was planning to divorce. And, it didn’t matter their personal opinion of the family – surprisingly as well – liked the Adams thought they were, they were really just feared and secretly hated – they couldn’t do it for fear of the backlash. They of course had their own careers to think of. It also seemed a few more had already been given the heads up and flat out refused, citing strict allegiance to the family and suggesting that perhaps he “work it out”.



It was simply amazing to Spike the amount of power one family could hold, and not all of it good. If only they used their powers for good, he’d mused after hanging up with another rejection.



He was quite simply drained. For the two hours he’d been on the phone, Spike felt all his options deflate and fly out the window. He felt as though he had possibly really sold his soul to the devil.



Feeling dejected, Spike called the one person he could always count on in a jam.



“Hello?”



“Dad, it’s me.”



“William, my boy!” Rupert Giles’ voice bellowed across the phone happily from across the pond. “Your mother and I were just saying how we haven’t heard from you in quite some time. What’s new then, huh?”



“Dad, I… “Spike took a deep breath for courage, leaning forward on his couch. “I left Cecily.”



Silence. So silent in fact, Spike could hear the TV in the background at his parent’s home in London.



“Dad?” he prompted his old man.



“You left her?” Giles whispered.



“I left her. Are you…disappointed in me?”



“No, son, I’m not. I think it’s about bloody time, honestly.”



“You never said anything before!” Spike exclaimed, jumping up.



“What could I say, William? That your wife is a bitch and you’d put yourself in for a world of pain if you married her?”



“Yes!”



“Well, I didn’t And I couldn’t.”



“Why the hell not?”



“Because no one could tell you anything then, William.”



“What’s happening?” Spike could hear his Mum asking in the background.



“He’s left Cecily,” Giles whispered.



“Halleluiah!” Anne Giles exclaimed.



Spike couldn’t help but laugh, his spirits lifting. Seemed there more for this divorce than against, and it gave him hope.



“Dad, there’s one problem…”



“Yes?”



“I can’t find a lawyer. They’ve all turned me down.”



“Buggers,” Giles muttered. “Well then. Seems its time to call in some favors, hmmm?”



“Could you?”



“I not only can, but I will. I knew of a fantastic group of lawyers just outside Boston back in the day when I was practicing there. They were fairly young and just starting out, but they showed great promise. I’m willing to bet they’re just where they need to be now to help you out.”



“Are you sure? They could have been influenced by the great and mighty Adams’ by now,” Spike muttered bitterly.



“I’ll talk to them, son. We’ll get this figured out, trust me.”



Like a true ponce, Spike wanted to cry at his father’s words, at the relief he felt in having people well and truly on his side. There really was nothing like family in times of need.



“Dad, there’s one more thing I need to tell you…. How do you feel about being a grandfather?”

Disillusionment has set in
through this Wasteland
and Holden Caulfield has become my guide.
Plath grips my heart and I feel
Disjointed,
Out of touch.
I’m the one leaf that refuses to change.

Is there anyone left that is real?
Anyone left that is pure?
The soulless, tarnished venom
are smoldering in their ring of hell
and the flames of the inferno are licking at me
tempting me to join them in their dance,
their banality.
Very few stand out,
even less take a stand.
And like that leaf, still, I cling to the tree
hoping to catch some ground-without having to fall-
Hoping some light will be shed and
I won’t find myself alone.

But I feel so very much alone

I’d like to think I’m the Joan of Arc
of the lost virtue in the world.
Often not understood and deemed a heretic because I don’t follow the norm—
And what is the norm anymore?
It’s a rat race to be perverse
and old –fashioned values have been tossed out
like dirty bath water.

When really, it should be the other way around.

I claim to see through the bullshit
that’s doled out on a regular basis by
those with hidden agenda’s, but
I often wonder if really see things as they are
or is it just my perception and is my insight off?
Am I looking for it too hard because of all that’s been said and done before?
I can be such a hypocrite
and it tears at my soul to be so.
My house is not clean; there are shards of glass,
but I like to think that I am capable of learning
from past wrongs by refusing to make them again.

My innocence is often judged,
my lack of experience cited
and I find that unfair,
a justification for others
to continue on
because I just don’t ‘know any better’.

I live in this world too!

If sex is just sex
and love is taken out of the equation
then why do so many
whine when their partner doesn’t want something real with them?
How is it that feelings get produced in the wake of a liaison?
All I can say is: Don’t fucking cry to me when you’ve lied to yourself.

Hello world! It’s me.
Just fed up, disillusioned,
lied to,
forced to listen to bullshitters who just want to make
it ‘okay’ for them to do whatever the hell they want
and ruin it for those that want truth, justice, love and all that rot
that’s supposed to make the world go round.

Is it any wonder Holden Caulfield had a nervous breakdown? ~ Poem by Me

Buffy stared at Doyle, her mind racing with all sorts of questions about what exactly he meant by that statement. “What?” was all she could manage to get out, but it covered the broad spectrum of thought currently circling round her brain.

“I want to take you out.”

“We are out. You take me out all the time,” she told him bluntly, matter-of-factly, and almost rudely.

“I mean on a date, Buffy,” Doyle said calmly, not the least bit put off by her sudden bad humor.

“Why?” she demanded.

”What do you mean, why? Don’t you know what it means when someone asks you out on a date?”

Buffy shook her head, “No, I don’t. I know what it means when someone wants to fuck me. I don’t date. I fuck. You of all people should know that by now. Where is this coming from? What part of this package you see before you do you want? The part where I fuck you?”

“Would you stop saying that?” Doyle hissed at her, “And so loudly, too? What are you getting so upset about?”

“Because I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I …I want to take you out, Buffy. I want to take you out on a date. I want to date you. God, I’ve never had to explain to someone why I wanted to date them before or what it means to say ‘let me take you out.’”

“Well, you’re looking at the new Buffy. This new and improved Buffy looks for the catch and the possible bullshit that you’re gonna feed me as to why you want to go out with me. Is it because of the sordid tails I’ve told you, Doyle, is that it? Is it because you want to see what it’s like to be with a real live whore?”

“Would you stop saying crap like that?”

“Why not? It’s true!”

“You’re putting something on me that isn’t true and I’m trying very much to figure out why you would think that is what I’m after. How long have we been friends, Buffy? How long have I heard those ‘sordid’ tales and haven’t made one move on you? How many men have I offered to beat the shit out of for not treating you with respect—“

“You can’t treat someone with respect if they don’t deserve it. What have I done to deserve any of that?”

”So, this isn’t about me wanting to date you because I happen to think the world of you, this has to do with what it means for you to date me.”

“Yes!”

“So then tell me, Buffy, what does it mean for you that I want to date you?”

“It means that I’m not good enough for you.”

”I love how his entrance back in your life reduces you to this,” Doyle muttered.

“This has nothing to do with him.”

“Doesn’t it? You were fine the entire time you were pregnant. You were fine without him, and he comes along and now look at you.”

“Look at me, what?” Buffy demanded, glaring at him.

“You’re a self-doubting mess!”

“It’s not him! It’s me, Doyle. I was like this when I was pregnant too; I just didn’t let it show. I didn’t tell anyone about it is all. I just feel so …tarnished. So used. And I feel like a hypocrite for casting stones at Spike when I haven’t exactly been the paragon of virtue. I just feel like love and all of that is so far removed from me and I want it so bad. I just feel like it’s too late for me and that I can’t have it unless it’s messy and full of drama and riddled with entanglements.” Reaching across the table, she took Doyle’s hand in hers. “Doyle, you’re so good and perfect and I’m so…not.”

“I’m not perfect, Buffy. No one is. I’m human and I make mistakes too.”

“Not like I have.”

“So that’s it then? You just throw in the towel because you made a few bad choices—“

“A few?”

“You’re giving up. Half the battle has already been fought. You know what you want, and you know you want better for yourself than what you had before. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to do anything that could possibly end in disaster.”

”Would dating Spike make it better for you?”

”That’s not fair.”

“Or do you want to go back to your old ways and by denying someone that is real and without a hidden agenda, it makes it okay for you to do that. I mean, when you think that all you’re good for is a fuck, and when you think that you’re not deserving of anything else but a quick fuck and a casual ‘see you later’, then maybe it makes it that much easier to go back to doing it.”

“God, I feel like I’m suddenly in the middle of a really bad after school special,” Buffy muttered.

“Don’t avoid the topic by getting all cheeky about it, lass.”

Sighing heavily, Buffy sat back and regarded him thoughtfully. “Why?”

“Why what?”

”Why do you want to date me, Doyle? Make me see what you see.”

Doyle’s expression softened immediately. “Buffy, I think you’re a wonderful woman. So energetic, fun and witty. You are so incredibly intelligent and even though you don’t see it—“ he said off Buffy’s snort of disbelief, “I do. You have such a kind, generous heart and despite how jaded you claim to be, I see someone that still wants happy endings and believes in fairy tales. I’ve cared about you for so long, Buffy—“

“Oh, Doyle,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I was afraid to. And you were between boyfriends all the time—“

“If you can even call them that,” Buffy said dryly.

“So I never told you. I didn’t think you’d be interested in goofy ol’ Doyle.”

“What made you want to tell me now?”

“I’m here, you’re here. I want to give it a shot. Just give it a try, Buffy, that’s all I’m asking for. I’m not asking for marriage here. I’m just asking that you let me take you out, that you let me treat you like a Queen. I think you deserve that and I think you need it right now.”

Buffy nodded, “I do,” she whispered.

“Let me?”

Buffy studied him, her best friend, her sudden hope for salvation. If Doyle saw good in her, then surely there had to be. Right? Maybe in time he could really make her see and feel what he saw and felt in her. Maybe her sins would be stripped and she’d be cleansed from the torridness that seemed to follow and plague her every step.

“Yes, Doyle,” she told him finally. “I’ll go out with you.”

Sitting at a park bench in Boston Common down the street from his apartment, Spike sat waiting for Buffy with his leg bouncing up and down with nervous energy. He’d called and asked if she could swing by on her afternoon walk with Brandon and she’d agreed. She’d sounded funny when he rang, almost as if she hadn’t expected to hear from him. He supposed from her perspective, it was still new and up in the air. Things weren’t natural at that point for them. How could they be?

The talk they’d had a few nights before had been a breakthrough of sorts for him. Well, maybe not so much of a breakthrough, but more of a window into the mind of Buffy. How she felt, what she wanted, what her heart yearned for and how she was going to ‘play the game’, the dating game as it was, from now on. He wondered if Doyle was the knight in which she spoke of, and he found it odd that if he was, she never spoke of him. Not the way he thought a woman in love would.

However, it wasn’t as if she was bursting at the seams to tell him about her private life unless it included their son. They weren’t exactly friends; they were far from confidants-- they were nothing but strangers that happened to be the biological parents of a perfect baby boy by the name of Brandon.

“Hi, have you been waiting long?”

He looked up and to the side, squinting against the afternoon sun to see Buffy standing there, carriage in front of her. She wore tan capri’s, sneakers and a white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore sunglasses. She looked lovely and natural; she didn’t have the faux ‘I just dropped a thousand dollars on Newbury Street’ look about her. She looked like a young mom out with her son and enjoying the day. She was, in essence, a breath of fresh air. Instantly, he felt relaxed and the bobbing leg stopped.

“Hi,” he smiled and stood, coming over to her. “I haven’t been waiting long at all. Leaning over the stroller, he grinned down at his snoozing son. “How is he?”

“He’s good. I swear the fresh air just knocks him out. Course, he was a bugger about sleeping last night, so he’s been making it up today.”

“He sick?”

“No, at least, I don’t think he is. I think it’s just one of those things that babies do now and then. I called Faith in the middle of the night and she assured me it was normal for them to get out of their schedule once in a while. I just think that I have the perfect baby that would never do something like that and so it throws me for a loop when he does.”

“It’s a learning process,” Spike murmured, straightening and facing her. “Like most things I suppose, right?”

“Right,” she nodded resolutely, her ponytail bobbing behind her. “So, how are you?”

He heaved a sigh “I’m. . . I’m all right.”

“That sounded convincing,” Buffy said sitting down on the bench and pulling Brandon toward her, starting to move the carriage back and forth.

“I called my father a couple days ago and he’s working on getting an attorney for me.”

“Your father is getting you an attorney?” Buffy asked, confused.

“Yes, see, I called around and no one wanted to take me on.”

“Why not?”

“Because of the Adams’. No one wants to rock that boat.”

Buffy stared at him, mouth agape. “Are you serious?”

“Quite. I called my father in desperation. He was a lawyer here in the States and still practices now and then in London, even if he is for all intents and purposes, retired. I told him I had left Cecily and no one wanted me.”

“And he has connections?”

Spike nodded, “He does. He knew of some up and coming attorney’s just outside Boston, I think in Cambridge, and he was going to call in a favor.”

“That was very nice of him to do for you.”

“It was. I often wondered how I ended up so screwed up when I have truly great parents. I mean, they have their faults as any parent does, but they didn’t fuck me up or anything. No issues I blame them for.”

Buffy smiled, “That reminds me of a poem.”

“What poem?”

Buffy giggled, “It’s called, ‘This Be the Verse’.”

“How does it go?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear it,” she waved her hand dismissively.

“No, I do. I happen to like it when you’re a nerd,” he grinned, chuckling when she gave him a mock glare over her glasses. “Come on, tell me.”

“Okay, it’s by this quite crass poet named Philip Larkin. I mean…quite crass.” She cleared her throat, “It goes like this: They fuck you up, your mum and dad./They may not mean to, but they do./ They fill you with the faults they had/ And add some extra, just for you./But they were fucked up in their turn/By fools in old-style hats and coats,/Who half the time were soppy-stern/And half at one another's throats./Man hands on misery to man./ It deepens like a coastal shelf./Get out as early as you can,/And don't have any kids yourself.”

Spike laughed, “Well, that’s something then.”

Buffy laughed, “Isn’t it though? I went through this period in my pregnancy where I was convinced I was going to be a terrible mother and I printed it out and taped it to my fridge. It was like a daily affirmation on how I didn’t want to be with Brandon.”

“Do you still have those doubts now?”

“Oh, everyday,” she laughed nervously. “I’m so afraid these days of making a wrong choice that I end up making no choice at all. And it extends beyond him, even though every choice I do make does concern him in some capacity.”

“Did your parents fuck you up, Buffy?”

“No, I think like you, I often wonder where I came from,” she laughed breezily. “I think my whole thing with my parents is that they expected so much from me, and I worked so hard to please them, that I found other ways to rebel. I mean, I wanted to succeed too, but I wanted to do it on my own terms and oftentimes I felt as though I was doing it on theirs. So, I retaliated in my own way and got into my own trouble. That I’m learning from and trying to amends for now.”

“I have such a hard time seeing you as something other than . . . well, pure. I mean you talk about being so with such passion, I have a hard time picturing you as a bad girl.”

“You do remember that I slept with you that first night, right?” she said dryly.

“Yeah, but I figured that everyone does that at least once,” Spike shrugged.

“Try many, many times.”

“No way,” Spike said, truly stunned.

“I told you I wasn’t a good girl,” she reminded him. “Were you not listening?”

“I just kind of thought that was. . . I mean, honestly, I thought that your definition of bad and my definition of bad were two entirely different things.”

“No, William, they’re not that far off. In fact, they’re in the same ballpark. I’m your every day, run of the mill, textbook slut.”

“Textbook slut?”

“You know--the ones that sleep around with random men thinking that if they just have sex with them, they’ll like them that much more. Even hopefully love them. The ones that think that a guy must really like them since they want to have sex with them. When really, the guy just wants to get his rocks off and doesn’t give a shit one way or another about you.”

“Wow,” Spike murmured, astonished.

“Yeah, I mean, it wasn’t always like that. There were times when I wanted to have sex just for the sake of getting my own rocks off and didn’t care if they liked me or not. And it’s not like I told myself that ‘this is why I’m having sex with this asshole. So he’ll like me.’ I didn’t want to be a cliché. Perish the thought!” She laughed nervously, shaking her head in a self-deprecating manner. “But deep down. . . I was hoping for something real. Which in itself is pretty cliché too. And by the time I figured out that sex with random men was truly not getting me anywhere and wanted something real, the old-fashioned way, it was too late.”

“How so?”

“I had a reputation.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so. . . I’m not your good girl that’s just jaded by the bad experiences around her, but I’m the bad girl that’s had those bad experiences happen to me – I’ve done them. Lived them. And I’m not wanting to go back to them.”

“I didn’t make it easy on you, did I?” Spike asked softly. “Doing what I did.”

“Let’s not rehash it, okay?” Buffy said quietly, looking away from him and gazing down at Brandon’s slumbering form.

“So, is Doyle…I mean, is he the good guy you’ve been wanting?”

She looked at him, her eyebrows knitting together. “How did you know about that?”

He stared at her, trying to make sense of what she just asked. “What do you mean how did I know? It’s pretty obvious you guys are together--”

“We’re not… William, we never—William, he just asked me out the other day. We weren’t dating before. We were just friends.”

I want to be big and let go
Of this grudge that's grown old
All this time I've not known
How to rest this bygone
I wanna be soft and resolved
Clean of slate and released
I wanna forgive for the both of us ~ This Grudge, Alanis Morrisette

Talk about feeling sucker punched. Spike sat there, his mouth agape, as he tried to make sense of what Buffy had just told him about her and Doyle.

“You were never dating before?”

“No,” Buffy shook her head, “Though, it seemed that way didn’t it? I mean, I guess I can see how it seemed that way. These days it seems impossible to have a man and a woman be ‘just friends’. Unless the guy is gay, everyone thinks that something has to happen. What was that movie…” she hummed thoughtfully, “Where Billy Crystal says that men and women can’t be just friends?”

“When Harry Met Sally,” Spike supplied, feeling his good humor in an instant.

“Right. Well, I guess that holds true in the minds of many. I never really bought into it though. I mean, a man and a woman can be just friends – can’t they? What do you think, William?”

Spike didn’t really give a shit about giving his thoughts on the old adage of men and women being friends. He was busy trying to wrap his mind around the fact that all this time he’d thought her and Doyle were together and he’d respectfully kept from pursuing a relationship with her because of the supposed relationship with Doyle. And now, now he learns that not only were they most definitely not together this entire time and he could have pursued her, but that now they were together. In a manner of speaking. Of course it was all a manner of speaking wasn’t it? Like Buffy was ever going to jump on the ‘let’s date Spike’ bandwagon in light of – Jesus Christ, everything! But he could have done…something. Could have at least let her know of his intent and that when his life was more together, he wanted to give them a shot. He could have told her that she hadn’t been far off at all in her assumption that there was something between them that fateful night and in fact she was dead on about it. But now . . . now… how could he compete with Doyle? How could he compete with the man that had been there all this time, through her pregnancy and heartache and . . . Fucking A, he really knew how to screw things up good and proper didn’t he?

Buffy was still talking. “I guess in retrospect I should have seen the signs. I mean, he was quite overprotective at times, especially when it came to you. He held this torch all this time and he never told me and how was I supposed to know? I’m clueless about it when it’s real ya know?”

“So, you never…” Spike shook his head, “You never had those feelings for him?”

“No, I never thought of it. He was just Doyle, ya know?”

“Do you have those feelings now?”

Buffy snapped her mouth shut and turned away. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

“Why not? We’re just talking.”

“Cause it’s not right.”

“What’s not right about it?” he pressed.

“You’re . . . not part of that part of my life.”

“I just want to know if you feel the same way about him that he feels about you, Buffy. I’m not asking for blood or your soul here--”

No, you’re not asking for my soul, Buffy thought, Cause you’ve already got that. The thought was frustrating at best. What had she expected really? That her saying ‘yes’ to Doyle would make all her incredibly confusing feelings for Spike just disappear? Well, maybe it wasn’t what she expected so much as hoped. When he’d called her and asked to see her and Brandon, she’d gotten a pit in her stomach. The fact that just hearing his voice on the other end of the phone filled her with the jitters of the teenage crush kind did not bode well for giving Doyle a chance. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to have those feelings for Spike, she just wanted it to end.

“Well, do you?” he demanded.

Buffy would have thought with all her experience of getting into one bad situation after another she would be an expert liar. But, she wasn’t. The only person she was skillful at lying to was herself and that always had a way of catching up to her didn’t it?

“I’d be stupid not to,” she finally said and hoped that was answer enough for him.

“What the hell kind of answer is that?” he demanded.

“Why are you getting so angry with me for?” she demanded back, turning it all back round on him. It was the preferred game of mind-fuckers. Deflect off you as much as possible and put it on the other person as their fault. She should know, she’d been mind-fucked many times in the past, she considered herself to be an expert in seeing it and now being able to play it.

“That wasn’t an answer and you damn well know it,” he told her, standing up and starting to pace.

“It was an answer if you read between the lines and figure it out.” How was that for bullshit?

He stared at her. “So, what you’re saying is that you’d be stupid to not have feelings for him, ergo, you do have feelings for him?”

“Yes,” she said, with a slight squeak in her voice. If he knew her any better, he’d be able to pick up on that and know she was lying.

“Or do you think you should have feelings for him, but don’t, and are questioning why you don’t?”

Oh for crying out loud… “Take it as you want, William,” she said wearily.

“I’m going to take it as you don’t,” he declared and sat back down, appearing almost smug.

“Well, it’s true,” she argued. “I would be stupid not to. He’s . . . kind and considerate. He treats me like a Queen. He has done a lot for me. He’s a good man and I have a lot of respect for him.”

“Does he make you weak in the knees? Does he make your stomach clench when you hear his voice? You sound like you’re dating him because you think you should, not because you want to.”

“You’re one to talk. You don’t even date, you fuck.”

“And it sounds as if that’s what you do too.”

That did it. Bounding to her feet, Buffy started to push Brandon from the man that could single-handedly destroy her with a look, a touch, the sound of his voice, and a few choice words.

Grabbing onto her arm, Spike halted her from escaping. Angrily, she tried to release herself from his grasp. “Let me go,” she seethed, “Or I swear to God, I’ll scream rape.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m so fucking sick of this shit, Spike.”

“William.”

“No, you know--changing your name doesn’t change who you are. You have to work at that.”

“A rose by any other name?”

“You’re not sweet, you’re an ass. I told you all of that stuff about me to somehow make you see.”

“Make me see what?”

“Make you see that you and I – we’re not so different.”

“Why did you want me to see that, Buffy?” he asked, sidling up to her.

“Because I see how you’re struggling now to make changes,” she said, taking a step back from him. “I see that you’re frustrated and that you’re still trying and I . . . respect that. I understand it. Making changes is never easy when you’re used to one way of doing things. It’s so much easier to stick in a pattern of self-destruction than it is to climb out of that hell and try something new. I didn’t tell you that so you could throw back in my face--”

“Isn’t that what you do to me when you get a chance? You throw it back in my face what I did.”

“Spike, you betrayed your wife. There’s a marked difference. You went against vows you made in front of God and family and friends – you went against an entire life! You didn’t just lie to me; you lied to a string of people!”

“I’m not allowed to have regrets? I’m not allowed to make changes and not have my past follow me everywhere I go? Jesus, Buffy. You’re such a little hypocrite! You go on about how you’re trying to make all these changes in your life, how you don’t want to be known as this ‘bad girl with a rep’ anymore, but I am not allowed to do the same – how is that fair? I’m trying too, you know. You hold it over me; make it the ruler by which you decide if I should even be part of Brandon’s life, of your life--”

“Stop,” Buffy commanded, holding up her hand. “Just stop.”

Spike was hit with the overwhelming need to draw her in his arms upon seeing the tears pooling in her mossy green eyes.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore,” she told him, her voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want everything to be dredged up anymore. Okay? I want to stop this…vicious cycle that we can’t seem to get out of. We do well, we get angry for whatever reason and then we insult each other. That forward momentum doesn’t seem to have any place with us and I, for one, am tired of it. I’m not going to keep Brandon from you, Spike. I know that you love him and honestly, I think you need him right now.”

Spike nodded, “I do,” he agreed softly.

“I just want to stop fighting.”

“So do I, pet.”

“Maybe we can say that from this moment on, we’ll put it behind us and just go forward. We have a little boy to think of here. I don’t want him growing up with his parents fighting all the time.”

“No, you’re right. We don’t need to be fucking him up.”

Buffy smiled softly. “Right. We don’t need him making ‘This Be the Verse’ his mantra.”

Holding out his hand, Spike said, “Truce?”

She took his hand, connecting her palm to his. “Truce.”

“Past behind us?”

“Past behind us,” she agreed and shook his hand definitively.

“I…I hope he makes you happy, Buffy.”

Buffy fought back the onslaught of fresh tears at that, and smiled in what she hoped appeared to be a real smile. “Thanks.”

“Deconstruction ‘deconstructs the ideological biases (gender, racial, economic, political, cultural) and traditional assumptions that infect all histories, as well as philosophical and religious ‘truths’.”

“I think you’re going to have a fantastic time,” Faith gushed, “I mean it’s Doyle, right? How could you not have a good time?”

“Right, I mean you two have always been so close…Do you think it’ll be weird, Buffy?” Willow asked curiously.

“Do you know where he’s taking you?” Faith asked.

“I don’t know,” Buffy answered, feeling dazed. After sipping her coffee, she nervously set it down, deciding that perhaps she didn’t need it so much after all. She already felt anxious, any more coffee and she would spontaneously combust.

“I think you should do something really fun,” Faith continued.

“Isn’t that the point of a date?” Buffy asked, knowing whatever she offered to this particular discussion wouldn’t be considered anyway.

“I hear there’s a carnival opening this weekend,” Willow offered.

“Oooh! You’ve always wanted to do that for a date, haven’t you, Buffy?” Willow said excitedly.

“A carnival would be fun, but maybe embarrassing. Your hair’s a mess, you’re screaming…” Faith said, wrinkling her nose.

It was funny. Here Buffy sat in her own home with her friends over dinner and she felt completely out of place. She didn’t even feel as though she were in the room, or attached to the chair she sat in. She felt like an outsider, as if she was just the subject of an experiment and really, she didn’t even need to be there. They could come up with their hypotheses about how she should date and live her life, and she’d do it like some kind of automaton. Later, she’d report back to them and they would amend their plan as they saw fit until she got it right. In a way, she felt as though that was just what she needed, and in another way, she found it frustrating. Buffy didn’t feel that she had said yes to Doyle, but she had somehow said yes to them – her friends. Like up until that moment she hadn’t been granted their stamp of approval, and now she had, so all would be well with the world and with her. Buffy wished she could have some of that good cheer. Mostly, she just felt numb.

Looking around at all the faces that surrounded her, she was struck by the different female roles in the room with her. There was Willow, the saint, Faith the mother, and her—the whore. Course, she was a mother now too. And Faith was a former whore—okay, so the whole analogy didn’t exactly pan out. However, Faith had found a solid man and in true chick lit fashion, had settled down, tamed her wild ways, and was enjoying her new role in life as mother and mate – it was as if it were the role she’d been meant to play all along. Then there was Willow, the virtuous. She’d never slept around or even dated all that much, and if she did, they inevitably turned into serious monogamous relationships. She’d been with possibly three men since she lost her virginity in college, and had stayed with the cherry-popper until she’d graduated. She was vigilant in her dating: Willow knew what she wanted and didn’t settle for less. Last, but not least: The Whore. Buffy unknowingly had an affair with a married man on the first night she met him only to later end up pregnant with said married man’s baby and now she was on the cusp of having a date with her virtuous male (was that an oxymoron, she wondered) best friend, and she found she was still hung up on the married man. Doyle was her Mr. Knightly, her Mr. Darcy, and Spike was her Frank Churchill and Mr. Wickam. Spike was all a good young lady did not trifle with.

Except, what happens when the young lady is not good herself? Certainly, she does not get to trifle with the likes of Mr. Knightly or Mr. Darcy. Surely, she gets banished to the likes of Frank Churchill and Mr. Wickam.

On Spike’s end there was Oz – a seemingly virtuous man – whom was with Willow. He had been, after all, the one to come forward and disclose Spike’s secret. So, if Faith was their whore with a heart that found redemption, and they already had a saint – where did that leave Buffy?

She didn’t feel deserving of Doyle. What does one do when one doesn’t feel deserving of another? And what does one do when the one they should be fit for, doesn’t fit the bill either – was it possible that Spike was too bad for her? Perhaps she was metamorphosing and when she came out the other side; she’d be fit for someone that was neither Spike nor Doyle.

Perhaps what was in order was a new thought process. Or to just stop thinking altogether. Better to over think than to not think at all, right? It’d be nice if there was some middle ground however. If she could find some communion with her thoughts, feelings, needs and desires, of that which she deserved and of that which she did not deserve.

Looking to Brandon smiling slightly at her in his swing set up in the kitchen, Buffy was struck with the thought that perhaps it was not Doyle she should be concerned with being worthy of, but Brandon instead. He was the epitome of virtuous. He was untouched, an innocent. He was her clean slate, not Spike who helped taint her and not Doyle who knew of her already tarnished existence. With him, she could find rebirth. So, perhaps there was room for another whore with the heart of gold among her friends. Time would tell.

“So, what do you think, Buffy hmmm? Where do you want to go with Doyle?” Willow asked.

Buffy smiled at her friend and sipped her coffee once more. “Not sure. I haven’t put much thought into it. Just thought I’d let things happen as they will.”

********

The thing with moments of clarity and peace is that they never lasted very long. They were like a window into how things could be if you fully freed yourself from all restraints and worries, but if you shut that window…you were back to a self-doubting, worried mess feeling locked in and alone in your fears.

With sweaty palms, Buffy smoothed out her tan Capri’s and a green sleeveless turtleneck. Doyle had told her to dress casual. He said she needed to be able to move. She thought perhaps the moisture alone from her palms could have served as the steam in which to press her clothes. She was that nervous. It was better than being nonchalant, right? At least she cared. That had to mean something.

Willow and Oz were in her living room, having come over to spend some time together whilst taking care of Brandon for her. So, on top of being nervous about going out with Doyle, she was wreck over having to leave Brandon for the first time since he’d been born. Luckily, she had switched over from breast feeding to bottles so that would curb some of her worry, though she still tended to leak at times…but hey, that’s what special bra’s that helped in that area were for! Plus, a cardigan.

“Buffy!” Willow hissed, bursting into her room, causing Buffy to jump a mile. “Doyle’s here.”

“You scared the crap out of me,” Buffy hissed back. “I think my heart just leapt up to my throat. Thank you.”

Willow giggled. “Sorry. You ready?”

“I think so. How do I look?”

“You look nice. Comfortable.”

“Not trashy?”

“Not at all.”

“Okay.” Buffy took one…two…three deep breaths.

“You’re going to be fine, Buffy,” Willow assured her.

Putting her hand over her mouth, Buffy expressed her concern. “What if it’s a disaster?”

“What if it’s not? What if that’s what scares you more?”

“Then black is white and heaven is hell,” Buffy replied.

“Exactly. Come on,” Willow took her hand and drug Buffy out of the room.

Entering the living room where Doyle was chatting with Oz, in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair combed neatly, looking comfy and secure, like so much her best friend and yet something else – Buffy smiled.

“Why won’t you at least tell me where you are?” Cecily demanded over the phone, a slight whine in her already nasally voice.

“Cause I don’t see the point,” Spike said for what felt like the thousandth time in the course of a half hour.

“William, we can work this out, just tell me where you are. Meet somewhere at least!”

“No, Cec. It’s over. We can’t work it out this time, you know we can’t. We can barely stand each other and you know it!”

“But I want us to fix it,” Cecily wailed and burst into tears. “I don’t understand, William. We don’t need to be head over heels in love. How many married couples do you know that are?”

“I reckon that’s the problem with the world today.”

“So noble all of a sudden. I know you’ve been with other women, William. I knew you were cheating on me and I let it happen cause I figured ‘well, at least he comes home to me’.”

“You’re missing the point, Cec. I had no choice but to return to you.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I was afraid of what you’d do to me if I didn’t.”

“William, just come home. Nothing will happen to you if you just come home,” she said, sniffling.

“Cecily, if you loved me as you say you do, you’d not only let me go but you’d make it so nothing happens to me now,” Spike told her firmly, hoping that would penetrates some human part of her. Truth be told he was actually quite surprised to have heard from her, and in such a manner of wanting to work things out after it had been quite clear – by his moving out—that things were past working out.

“I know I have my faults, William, but so do you. We can work on them. Together. Move past them and build the life we had dreamt of building so long ago. Remember that? Remember when we used to lie together and plan our life and how happy it’d be?”

Spike almost had to laugh. It was funny really to look back on things with another. It made you realize how different perceptions could be. He’d heard once that there were three sides to every story: Your side, another’s side and the truth. He didn’t remember planning their future together the way she most obviously did. He remembered feeling impending doom, feeling that perhaps he should have reconsidered. He’d felt as though an iron fist had grasped his body and wouldn’t let go of him for anything. His soul had been given away and all that had been left over the years was the shell of a man. Cecily would plan, William blindly agreed, but never fully engaged in her plans.

As much of a bitch as Cecily was, it dawned on William that perhaps he’d help mold her into what she was. When she’d been forging ahead and thinking things were fine, he’d been having doubts and pulling back, only going through with it because he felt it was his last shot at a life, that this was very definitively it for him. They were, quite simply, wrong for one another. The problem was Cecily didn’t know any better. She didn’t spend her time on introspection, she lived life, didn’t think about life. In her mind they were married and married was how they were to stay. He felt bad for her in a way. She simply didn’t know any better, and if she did, she didn’t want to. Cecily just wanted what she had and never wanted more – and whatever she did want it always had a price tag. She could just buy it, or it was bought for her. She never wanted for anything. It was probably throwing her for a loop that Spike no longer came with one.

They didn’t fit. They weren’t fitted puzzle pieces –hell, they weren’t even in the same puzzle at all. How could he completely fault her for not getting it, or for not understanding resistance when she’d never encountered it before? Hadn’t he been easily bought like everything else in her life?

It was time for honesty, and not in of the insulting variety. “I was wrong, Cecily. I shouldn’t have married you. I’m sorry, and I know you probably don’t understand it--”

“I understand that someone’s turned you against me, that’s what I understand.” Now she sounded angry.

“Cecily, I haven’t been in love with you for a very long time.”

Silence, then, “Were you ever, William?”

“I think I fancied myself to be so, but no, I don’t think I was.”

“You always did know how to hurt me, William.”

“Doesn’t that tell you something? Doesn’t that tell you how bad we are for one another?”

“It tells me that you toyed with me all this time, even when I gave you what you wanted! I let you fool around on me and I never said boo—and you still left me!”

“Cecily…how did you know about all that?”

“I’m not stupid, William. I suspected for a long time.”

“Will you use it in our divorce?”

“You’ll be lucky if I give you one at all,” she snapped and hung up.

Settling back in his chair, Spike sighed wearily. But before he got too comfortable, the phone rang and he automatically tensed, preparing for another round with Cecily.

“Hello?”

“William, my boy. I have some news. You have an appointment tomorrow afternoon at one with Lindsey McDonald and Liam O’ Connor. Got a pen handy? I want to tell you where they are, and their number to call to confirm in the morning.”

*********

Doyle grinned at her as he squeezed her hand while they waited in line at the roller coaster—Buffy’s favorite ride. Doyle had, as it turned out, decided to take her to the carnival that Willow had mentioned. Her friend had been right, Buffy always wanted to go to one on a date. And chances were if Willow knew it, then so did Doyle. Which in a way bothered her and in a way made things much easier. But--where was all the mystery and excitement of getting to know someone if you went out with someone that already knew you inside and out?

She had been nervous about going out with him, thinking that something about her demeanor had to change, something about them had to change. She had to impress him in some way, didn’t she? It just seemed like something you had to do on a date. Impress them. Dazzle them. In essence: Be someone you weren’t until you felt relaxed enough to be yourself.

And then she remembered: This was Doyle. Doyle, who she belched in front of, Doyle who had massaged her feet while pregnant and got to hear about all her bodily functions. Doyle, who had seen her in labor for crying out loud. After seeing it all hang out, what else was there really for him to discover about her? That was when she remembered: Kissing. Wasn’t it the customary period to the end of a date? Oh God – was she going to have to kiss Doyle? That caused her nervousness to come back full force.

“Does it bother you that I’m holding your hand?”

She looked up at him, “What?”

“Does it bother you that I took your hand? You’ve been staring at our entwined hands since I grabbed it.”

“I have?”

“Yep. And you’ve been alternating between being here with me, and then not. Am I boring you, lass?”

She smiled apologetically. “No Doyle, you’re not. I’m having a great time.”

“Then what’s so heavy on your mind, hmmm? You’ve called Willow to check up on Brandon a few dozen times and you know he’s all right, so… what is it?”

“The kissing,” she blurted out.

He blinked and then he looked nervous. That was so…comforting, actually. In fact, it was really comforting. To know that somewhere inside him he was just as nervous as she was took a gigantic load off her shoulders.

“What kissing?”

“The kiss that you have at the end of a date.”

“Do you want to have the kiss at the end of our date?”

“I don’t know…that’s what I’m stressing about.” God, she felt like an idiot. She was also acutely aware that the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

“This, I reckon, would be about the time where I say ‘Well, let’s get it over with and kiss now’.”

“But?”

“How’d you know there was a but?”

She gave him a look. “It’s you, remember?”

He grinned. “Right. Well, I’m not going to say it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t see why it has to be an issue. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I put it in your hands.”

“In my hands? You’re putting it in my hands? Gee, and here I thought you were going to take the pressure off me,” she grumbled.

“You think you’re the only one with pressure here?”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, Buffy nodded and shrugged. “Kind of.”

“Well, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

Buffy had to laugh at that. “That so?”

“Yes. I’ve been just as wound up as you I imagine. But you know what’s helped?”

“What?”

“The fact that no matter what: You’re my best friend. No matter what, I am not going to let anything happen where I lose you. Nothing is so serious that you have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I don’t want one night to define what will happen between us, Buffy.”

He was right, of course. This night didn’t have to define what would happen from there on out. And so far – she’d been having a great time, laughing, talking, eating, going on rides and laughing some more -- And all with her best friend; all with Doyle. It hadn’t been the disaster she’d thought it was going to be. Quite the opposite and if she had those moments of doubt, well then it was all on her, not him.

Smiling, she leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him quickly, right on the lips. “Thank you.”

He smiled softly and brushed some hair from her face. “You’re welcome.”

“You said that so I’d kiss you, didn’t you?”

Doyle laughed. “Can’t be revealing all my secrets now can I?”

“And to make sure I’d go out with you again.”

“Now, how do you know I want to go out with you again?”

Smiling saucily at him – a move that stunned her – she said, “Oh, you definitely want to go out with me again. How could you not?” Oh God, she thought, I just flirted with Doyle!

“You’re right about that, lass. How could I not?” he agreed, grinning back—a gleam in his eyes that was actually so familiar a gleam…

Later that night when Buffy was home with no one but her son and was left alone with her thoughts, she thought back on the evening. There was no wining and dining – but Doyle also knew that was not necessarily her speed. Though, she had to admit, it would have been nice. Is Spike the wine and dine type? As quick as the thought came was as quickly as she dismissed the thought. This was not about Spike.

All in all, she’d had fun and was comforted by the fact that Doyle felt that no matter what, he was adamant about keeping her in his life, even if it wasn’t as “girlfriend”. That took the pressure off in ways he couldn’t imagine. Relationships – real ones – were not her forte. He’d given her the green light to relax and just be her. He’d also made it clear that he was not going to push for anything – and in a world where ‘anything’ was a given, it was refreshing to know that they could go at her pace and that “putting out” wouldn’t be an issue.

Ah, sex. She missed sex. The touching, the connectedness to another, the physical intimacy, the getting off…she missed it. She wanted it, but. . .

But not with Doyle, the persistent voice in her head nagged – Buffy supposed that was her conscious. Or the devil on her shoulder, either one worked really. You want --

“Shut up,” she said aloud and shook her head at herself.

So, if it’d been Spike you were out with, would you have “put out”?

“I’d like to think no,” she muttered. “So many levels of wrong with that, the least of which not being the fact that he’s still married!”

Then what’s missing?

“Who said anything is missing?”

She didn’t need her conscious to tell her that something was missing.

“Okay, okay. So there were no big sparks…though I did flirt with him! So there was a moment...But was it a real moment or just a contrived moment born out of relief that I didn’t have to feel the pressure. Was it a….a grateful moment?”

Only you know the answer to that one.

“Oh, shut up. Just stop, Buffy, stop. One night does not, like Doyle said, have to mean everything!”

Funny, cause when it was Spike, it did mean everything. And how life-changing was that one night with him anyway?

“I hate my life,” Buffy muttered and flicked on the TV to drown out her thoughts.

********

Spike didn’t think he’d be getting two lawyers, but two lawyers he got: Lindsey McDonald, Esquire, and Liam “Angel” O’ Connor, Esquire.

“Angel?” Spike questioned, feeling like a small fry at the end of a long desk. He felt small and inconsequential. He figured that was perhaps the whole point. Wasn’t it all just one big mind game with those attorney types?

Angel, a tall, dark haired fellow with piercing brown eyes that Spike felt could see right through him – and boy did he hope whatever this “Angel” saw was up to snuff – grinned at him “It’s a nickname a client gave me when I got her out of a contract that was seemingly impossible to get out of.”

Hope flared in Spike. “Oh?”

Angel nodded, and Spike couldn’t be sure, but he swore Lindsey rolled his eyes, which caught Spike off guard and his gaze settled on the shorter man with the gray eyes that held wisdom and something a bit shifty in them. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“You’ve come to the right place,” Lindsey told him, as if he could read Spike’s thoughts.

“Have I?” Spike wondered, not wanting to be rude, but feeling wary at this point. Nothing was for certain it seemed and being used to hitting dead ends; he was loath to get his hopes up.

“Most definitely, Mr. Giles. You see, we earn to gain something from this case as well,” Lindsey explained.

“And that is?”

“Well, aside from helping an old friend out who had in turned helped us so long ago, we get the irrefutable pleasure of sticking it to Morgan Adams,” Angel explained.

Spike’s brows flew up. “Excuse me?”

“You know how the Kennedy’s are notorious for flubbing up every chance they get—yet are respected in this community and by some, looked up to and defended as being ‘misunderstood’?” Lindsey explained.

“Yes,” Spike said slowly, wondering where the hell this was going.

“Well, you see, the Adams’ are not the Kennedy’s. They exalt themselves as the pillars of community; they are seen as virtuous do-gooders, when really, they are anything but,” Angel continued. “We’ve sort of made a name for ourselves in the community. The ‘underground’ community as the case may be.”

“What exactly do you mean?” Spike asked, narrowing his eyes.

Lindsey smiled. “We’re the ones people come to when they have a dispute or a ‘contract’ they need to get out of with the Adams’. We like to think that we specialize in ‘sticking it to’ the Adams’.”

“How is I’ve never heard of you then?” Spike asked.

“I suppose that’s because Morgan wouldn’t want to give us the business. He prefers that we just go away,” Lindsey told Spike. “We can get you out of this marriage, Mr. Giles. And it’ll be clean too.”

“Right,” Angel continued. “No double-dealing, no dirtiness involved – I can’t say the same for Morgan and your soon – to – be ex-wife, but I can say that from our end, we will make it our mission to give you a clean break from the Adams’ with no messes to clean up after.”

“There are people I wish to protect in all this,” Spike went on. “I haven’t exactly been a complete, uh, ‘angel’ say we say in this?”

“How do you mean?” Angel asked, looking grim.

“I’ve had affairs and Cecily knows of them.”

Angel and Lindsey simultaneously sat back, regarding him thoughtfully.

“She have proof?” Lindsey asked.

“You mean like pictures?”

Lindsey nodded.

“I don’t know. I have reason to believe she’s had me followed.”

Angel laughed and the sound was anything but comforting. “Of course she did. You’re one of her possessions. And I’ll bet anything it was the old man’s idea, not hers.”

“Well,” Spike mused, “She’s not an innocent, either. She’s got a devious side to her.”

“Does she now?” Lindsey asked, leaning forward.

“Well, she has threatened ---as has Mr. Adams-- that bad things would happen to me if I left.”

They both nodded and Spike almost wanted to chuckle at the synchronicity of it. “It’d be worthwhile to note that a threat was involved,” Lindsey said to Angel.

“Yes, but will it hold? Most know that Morgan pulls puppet strings,” Angel replied.

“But by societal standards, it would be uncouth to actually talk about it. It’s one thing to know about something, another to talk about it.”

“Good point.”

Spike cleared his throat. “One more thing.”

“Yes?” Angel asked, sounding a wee bit annoyed.

Spike took a deep breath. “A woman I . . .” he cleared his throat. “A woman I bore a child with. I don’t want that to get out. I don’t want them to be known.”

Angel and Lindsey exchanged glances, and then Angel turned to him. “You have an illegitimate child? Does Miss Adams know of this?”

“She does not.”

“Then I suggest you keep it so that she doesn’t find out. We can’t say for certain that Morgan will keep them out if he gets wind of it. It’d be a might bit hard when you drag in a woman and an illegitimate child that I’m gathering you still see?”

“Yes. The mother and I are not uh, together, but I do see her to see my son,” Spike explained.

“And we can always go for defamation of character if he tries to slander her and the child. The public wouldn’t take kindly to a child being slandered.” Lindsey jumped in to Angel.

“They might not mind if they’re in favor of the Adams’ though,” Angel countered.

Lindsey turned back to Spike. “Keep her and your son under wraps for as long as possible until we have more leverage here, Mr. Giles.”

“What kind of leverage are you planning on getting?” Spike inquired curiously.

Lindsey grinned. “Well, if she has pictures, we get pictures. With as shady as that family can be, there are definite venues to explore, trust me on that.”

Angel slapped his hands together conspiratorially. “So, do we have the case?”

I'll give you countless amounts of outright acceptance if you want it
I will give you encouragement to choose the path that you want if you need it
You can speak of anger and doubts your fears and freak outs and I'll hold it
You can share your so-called shame filled accounts of times in your life and I won't judge it and there are no strings attached to it ~ You Owe Me Nothing in Return, Alanis Morrisette

Spike felt that things might actually be looking up after he got out of his meeting with Lindsey and Liam – or, Angel. No screw that, he was not calling a grown man “Angel”.

He rather felt as though he was on a roller coaster ride since…well, since he’d met Buffy. Thinking back on all that had transpired since he met her, he likened his meeting her as going up the first hill, that slow ‘click, click, click’ sound that lulls you in a false sense of security even though you’re filled with apprehension about going down the first hill. And then of course the first hill down was Buffy finding out about Cecily and then well, from there, it was just going down one tremendously long hill with no going back up.

Until of course Buffy came back into his life. Until she waltzed into his office on that incredibly hot summer day, glowing like a fucking Christmas tree and told him she was having his baby. Since then, he’d been up and down hills, veering here and there and everywhere. No wonder he felt as though he had whiplash. The dips seemed much more frequent than the hills going up. Though, that’s what a real roller coaster was like. You never cared too much about the hills going up; you only focused on that next big plummet down.

And now, while he was looking up, he had to do something to protect Buffy and his son to keep them from plummeting with him on that next big hill.

*********

Buffy was only half-listening to Willow prattle on about Oz and while she knew this was a major event in her friend’s life; she was playing the selfish card this afternoon and losing herself in her own thoughts.

“Buffy.”

“Yeah?” Buffy looked up at Willow.

“I just told you that frogs were falling from the sky and you said ‘That’s so great Wills’. What’s going on?”

Pushing Brandon in his stroller through a department store, hunting for some new clothes, Buffy replied nonchalantly, “Nothing.”

“Liar. What is it? Is it about your date with Doyle?”

“Kind of yes, kind of no.”

“Okay…” Willow said slowly. “Where do you want to start?”

“Spike called me this morning to tell me had an appointment with an attorney.”

“For his divorce?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s…good? Bad?”

“Good…I guess,” Buffy said, frowning.

“Good how?”

“Well, the obvious reasons: She’s a bitch, he’s a cheater, and they hate each other. No one should have to live in that kind of hostile environment.”

“And bad how?”

“I can’t say,” Buffy muttered and headed toward a clearance rack of clothes, struggling to get Brandon’s stroller through the tight spaces between the racks.

“You can say--”

“No, I can’t!” Buffy said, spinning to face her friend. “If I say then it’s like…it’s like…”

“It’s like cheating on Doyle?”

Buffy stared at her. “I’m not exactly with Doyle to cheat on him, Wills. We had one date.” She held up her pointer finger, “One.”

“You said you would go out with him again, in fact you said you were going to.”

“Yeah, I know what I said, but…I just…I just…and yeah, I do feel like I am in a way cheating on Doyle which is ridiculous and yet so me, but …Spike getting a divorce means that he’s single.”

“I knew it,” Willow said, snapping her fingers.

“What?”

“I knew you had feelings for him!”

“You did?”

“Oh, come on Buffy, it’s so obvious! The way you perk up when he calls or when he’s mentioned. The whole hemming and hawing about dating Doyle--”

“In all fairness, I would have ‘hemmed and hawed’ about Doyle no matter if Spike was in the picture or not. I mean…Doyle’s my best friend and I’d never thought of him that way.”

“Is Spike ‘in the picture’ with you or just with Brandon? I mean, do you know how he feels?”

Heaving a deep sigh, Buffy shook her head and once again pushed Brandon toward the racks she wanted to look at. “No, I don’t.”

“You don’t get a feeling from him?”

“What do you mean?”

Willow rolled her eyes. “I mean, you don’t get a vibe from him that perhaps he feels the same way?”

“Well…” Buffy chewed her bottom lip. “Sometimes. But I don’t want to be presumptuous about it and think that just because of what we had, though we really didn’t have anything, did we? – and just because I feel it, doesn’t mean he does too.”

“A woman knows these things, Buffy,” Willow said wisely.

Now Buffy rolled her eyes. “Not always. I’m legitimately clueless. I didn’t even know about Doyle!”

“Really?”

“Really. If it’s not blatant --- as in them waving their dick in my face--”

“Buffy!”

“—Then I have no flipping clue.”

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Willow said, mortified. She was turning as red as her hair.

Buffy laughed, “Well, it’s true! Physical feelings I can figure out, that sort of thing is glaringly obvious isn’t it? But emotions…not so much. I always feel as though I’m second – guessing everything and just kind of muddling through…kind of like going against the tide.”

Willow laughed then. “Buffy, you’ve just described most relationships.”

Buffy was stunned. “Even the real ones?”

Willow laughed again and nodded, “Even the real ones.”

Shoulders sagging, Buffy sighed, “I’m horrible aren’t I? What’s wrong with me? I mean…this is Spike. The dude that cheated on his wife with me and lied and . . . I feel like trash. Like I should have enough self-respect to not have feelings for him.”

“It has nothing to do with self-respect, Buffy. It has to do with your heart and what it wants.”

“Well, my heart is stupid,” Buffy pouted. “I should feel those things for Doyle.”

“But like you said, it was only one date.”

“What’s that about? I thought you were all on the ‘Date Doyle’ brigade. Faith would have a canary if she knew you were on the opposing side.”

Willow grinned and pulled out a pink shirt, “I’m not for the opposing side. I’m not on Doyle’s and I’m not on Spike’s.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Then whose side are you on?”

“I’m on the side of what will make you happy, Buffy. You’ve been my best friend for years. You’re a spectacular person even if you don’t see it, and I think that Faith has a tendency to cram it down your throat what she thinks you should do. But what you want to do is not always in agreement with what she wants you to do.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Buffy muttered, cramming a pair of jeans back on the rack.

“I also think that since this whole thing went down with Spike, you’ve let others tell you what to do. You haven’t done what you want.”

“Because I don’t know what I want!” Buffy exclaimed, causing others around them to stop and stare.

Willow smiled, “But you know who don’t you?”

Buffy shook her head and stared at the clothes before her, but not really seeing any of them. “It looks like Rainbow Brite threw up on this rack,” she commented dryly.

Willow giggled, “See, you do know. That’s why you’re avoiding.”

Buffy looked up at her friend. “I just want to do what’s right.”

“And I have complete faith in you that you will figure that out,” Willow said and walked away to the next rack.

“That’s it?” Buffy asked, “That’s all you’re going to say?”

Looking up, Willow nodded, “Yep.”

********

Spike asked Buffy to meet him the next afternoon in the park again. He’d sounded a little out of sorts when he rang and so Buffy didn’t pressure him too much as to what had transpired with the attorney’s he met with. She was seriously hoping that things went well. Her panicked mind had come up with the idea that perhaps he’d decided to go back to Cecily after all and work things out.

In fact, Buffy had so much convinced herself of that, that when she saw Spike waiting for her, that was the first thing she asked him before he even had the chance to say hello.

“What?” he asked clearly confused. The question clearly threw him off.

“Are you going back to her?” Buffy asked again.

“No, I—Buffy, why would you think that?”

“The way you sounded on the phone. The way you asked me to meet you. You sounded funny.”

The corner of his mouth turned up into a grin. “Funny how?”

“Tense.”

Spike sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess in a way I kind of am.”

“In a way? Did the meeting not go well? I thought they were going to take you on.”

“They are.”

“Then…?”

“Can we sit, please?”

Buffy shook her head, “No, I kind of don’t want to.”

“I’d prefer you did.”

“Too bad I guess.”

Spike had to grin at that. She didn’t give herself enough credit as being one tough cookie when push came to shove.

“Buffy, I spoke with Cecily the other night before I saw my attorney’s.”

“And?” she said cautiously.

“She knows of my affairs.”

Buffy paled and gripped the stroller. “Does she know--?”

“No, she doesn’t. Not that I’m aware of anyway and I reckon she would have said something if she did know.”

“So, then…what are you tense about?”

“I don’t want her to know for your sake and for his.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “What do you want me to do?”

“If you could, just for now…pass Brandon off as Doyle’s.”

“You want me to what?” Buffy said, feeling dazed.

“I want you to pass Brandon off as Doyle’s for the time being. Just until this all blows over—”

“No!” Buffy exclaimed, feeling a burst of anger. “No, I won’t, I—why would you think I’d do something like that?”

“To protect him, Buffy,” Spike entreated her to understand.

“You can’t just…shove us about like that, Spike.”

“I’m not trying to shove you about--”

“That’s how it feels! You like me but you’re married, you want to be his father and then you’re not his father—God! What do you want from me? Blood?”

“Buffy, will you calm down, please?”

“No, I will not calm down. You don’t get to tell me what to do. You don’t get to tell me anything!”

Brandon’s cry pierced the air and quickly, Buffy came round the stroller to lift him out, tears prickling her eyes as she did so. Just when she thought . . . yeah, she didn’t know what she thought anymore. All she knew was that she felt let down and tossed aside. Again.

“What’s wrong with him?” Spike asked, cutting into her personal space to get to Brandon.

“I upset him cause I yelled,” she explained, or rather retorted. “It’s your fault.”

“Mostly everything is, isn’t it?” Spike muttered.

“If you’re really asking, then yes, if you’re not really asking, then I’m going to answer you anyway: Yes.” Carrying him to a nearby bench, Buffy sat down with Brandon, cuddling him to her and wanting very much to cry right along with him. But she wouldn’t give into it. No, she would not give into tears. She’d shed enough over this man.

“Buffy,” Spike began, sitting down next to her as she rocked Brandon in her arms. “I am not asking you to do this to hurt you or make you feel as if you and Brandon aren’t important to me. I’m asking because you are that important to me and I want to do all that I can to protect the both of you. If Cecily found out about you – if her father found about you and Brandon-- he’d splash it all over Boston. Brandon’s picture would be everywhere and he’d be called a ‘bastard’. Your bastard. Our bastard, illegitimate child. You’d be named a whore and what of your job at that point? Do you think BU would want to keep you on after it came out that you had an illegitimate child with me while I was still married? Buffy, think about this rationally for a minute. I’m not trying to hurt you here; I’m trying to keep you from being hurt.”

Her mind processed what he was saying while she tried to calm Brandon down. She didn’t want to think about Brandon being exposed like that. God, what if he went to school some day and some kid said “Hey, Summers, aren’t you a bastard?” Kids could be cruel, she knew that.

“Can I take him?” Spike inquired, holding out his arms.

Swallowing hard, Buffy nodded and handed Brandon over to his father. Immediately, Brandon stopped crying and started gurgling to his father. Spike grinned down at him, their blue eyes meeting and Brandon tossed him a smile that made Buffy’s heart melt and a smile bloom in place of her scowl.

“I’m not going to say he’s Doyle’s,” Buffy murmured, handing Spike their son’s plastic toy key ring. “I won’t say anything unless I’m asked. And if I am asked, I might just say ‘I don’t know’. I don’t want to say its Doyle just because he’s the only other man in my life and we’re…something or other.”

“Who did you put down on the birth certificate, luv? In case anyone goes snooping.”

“No one. I didn’t put anyone down because at that point…I just didn’t know.”

“I get that,” Spike whispered, gazing down at his son. “How are things with Doyle anyway?”

“Fine,” she said sullenly.

Spike looked up at her, “Just fine?”

“Yeah, why—you want to make sure the fake daddy to your baby is getting along with the mother?”

“Buffy--”

“Just forget it. This is a real mess you’ve gotten into isn’t it Spike?”

“It is,” Spike agreed on a heavy sigh.

“Was any of it worth it at all? At any point? I mean, there had to be something about it all that was worth all of this.”

He shook his head, wrinkling his nose. “Nope, not one bit of my marriage to her was worth the agony it’s become now.”

“What about the affairs? I mean… were any of those worth it?”

“Just you. Meeting you was worth it.” Spike murmured.

Buffy snorted, “Well of course you were going to say that. I’m sitting right next to you and you’re holding our son. But come on. There had to be some hot number that really blew you hair back and left you panting for more.” Why, oh why was she going down this road? Suddenly she was struck with the need to know. The need to know something about them, about her place among them and if she had some place in his life beyond her having his son. Just…something to clue her in that she was special to someone aside from the usual.

Either that or it was her sick and twisted desire to find out she wasn’t all that special except for the precious cargo he held in his arms at that moment, and aside from all of that, she was nothing, absolutely nothing. In that way, she could stay angry with him and hate him and somehow find a way to banish all those lingering feelings that were driving her round the bend.

Looking up, Spike met her eyes and she nearly gasped at the unabashed honesty in them. “No, Buffy, no one but you was worth it.”

“Spike--”

“You don’t get it do you?” he demanded. “That all this? This is for you. For him. You make me want to be a better man, Buffy. You have from the first. You said I made you believe in love at first sight once upon a time, well you did the same for me.”

“Spike--” Now that she was getting what she thought she wanted, she didn’t so much want it anymore. It was too much all of a sudden and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe.

“Let me finish, please.”

She nodded, gulping, and taking a shuddering breath.

“When I got home from being with you that weekend, I felt something shift inside of me that I hadn’t felt in a real long time. Before ‘Spike’ there was William. And William was a good man that was never sure of himself and didn’t have a lot of life experience. So when Cecily came along, William took up with her, thinking it had taken him this long to even get a girlfriend and it would probably be the only girl he’d ever have in his lonely existence. So William held onto her and sold his soul away. He quickly became aware that he’d done a bad thing, but couldn’t get out of it. It was too late and the damage was done.”

“Do you really think that?”

“Yes because of what her family is, and no because now I see that fear is really all that ruled me and I became comfortable in it. It was better then, you told me once, climbing out of hell and making a change. William never went for change.”

“And Spike does?”

“Spike wanted to after he met you, Buffy. You took William and Spike and somehow made them coalesce into the man I was meant to be. The man I could have been and should have been.”

“The man you can be?” Buffy murmured.

“Yes, the man I can be. Spike was a persona created to rebel against the Adams’ in a way that was safe for me to do so without stirring the pot too much. He was my way of getting back at her and her family.”

“And then who is the man in between them?”

“Spilliam,” Spike joked and Buffy laughed.

Grinning, Spike rattled the toy keys in front of Brandon and continued. “He’s…William. He’s got to be. He’s the one I like the most. William was a good man; a man worthy of having a son and someone like …” breaking off he took a deep breath, shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and continued, “Spike is just a means to an end. I need to get out and Spike’s a hard ass. One day though, I just want the two to converge and become one.”

“And you say I help with that?”

“Yes, Buffy. You made me want to change that weekend. You made me want to give it all up, leave Cecily and start my life anew. When I lost you – and rightfully so—I lost my will for it all. I sunk even lower in my self-loathing and just stopped caring.”

“What changed?” As if she didn’t know. He was holding what changed.

“The day you walked in my office and told me I was going to be a father. You came back to me and you brought a gift that I never thought I’d have.”

“I never knew I had the capacity to change someone. Maybe I missed my calling in life,” Buffy joked, trying to ease the sudden tension surrounding them that was increasingly growing more and more palpable by the minute, with every word he spoke, and soon it would be thick enough to touch…kiss.

“I know you don’t see yourself as someone pure and innocent, and I know you don’t see yourself as someone deserving of love and all the good things in the world that you want, but feel you can’t have. But, Buffy, you are more deserving than anyone I’ve ever met. You have given me more than a son that I worship. You gave me the impetus to change, you pushed me to a new life and you showed me that a person can change if the will is there and while it’s not easy, you can’t give up no matter what.”

His impassioned speech had Buffy welling up again. She did that for him? How was that even possible? She looked away from him, trying to gather herself and her thoughts.

“Buffy, look at me, luv.”

She held up her finger, signaling him to wait a minute and she took a few deep breaths before turning back to him.

He gazed at her, full of such absolute honesty, full of…dare she even think it –love, that Buffy’s breath hitched and her heart felt as though it were going to stop.

When he spoke, his own voice was clogged with the emotion he held in his eyes and in his expression, “You’re the One, Buffy.”

“I am?” Buffy said, the uncertainty and hopefulness in her tone matching the expression on her face.

Nodding, Spike said, “Yes, luv. You doubt it?”

“Well…yeah,” she laughed nervously, sending the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes at his speech away with a quick swipe of her hand. “I mean you know who you’re talking to, right? I have never been the one for anything, really, not that I know of and—what is it—what do you mean I’m the ‘One’ exactly? The one that motivated you, the one that…I mean, what am I the ‘One’ at?”

“What do you think it means, Buffy?” Spike asked, smiling gently at her, thinking how adorable she was.

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking!”

It’s not time, Spike thought, watching how frazzled and on edge she was. It’s not time to tell her yet. You’ve told her just enough for now. And he knew that part of the reason why he didn’t tell her he loved her was because he was afraid to. Afraid it’d cause more trouble than he’d already given her. Wasn’t it a mark of true love to not want to add any more to her already full plate – all of which he’d piled on? Plus, she’d just started dating Doyle, who yes, he was jealous of and yes, he wished he’d known that she’d been single all this time, but in all honesty and fairness to Buffy – what could he offer her? He couldn’t even claim Brandon as his own at this point in time and engaging in a relationship with her—if she even wanted that, would prove difficult and risky until his divorce was final. Besides, Doyle was a good bloke and Buffy deserved to have something free of complications for once instead of having to wait around on him. She deserved to have someone with their shit together already, not someone still wafting through shit to figure shit out; if that made any sense.

It just wasn’t time yet for them. He’d never understood that concept when it came to relationships and two people who were in love just not being yet ready for it (that was assuming of course that Buffy reciprocated even one smidgen of his feelings), and needing to wait. He got it now. There were a vast number of things he needed to do, the least of which was just the divorce, though that was the first and foremost on the list. He wanted to be on his feet and able to offer her some kind of life – not having to tell her that she had to pass Brandon off as someone else’s because of what his hopefully soon-to-be ex-wife could do to her and to him. That’s a great way to start any relationship, Spike thought bitterly.

Besides, Buffy would laugh in his face at this point if he told her he wanted a life with her. How would she, for one, trust him? She’d made it quite clear already that she didn’t and who could blame her? Trust was something earned, not handed out, and he’d blown that to smithereens already.

Being able to court her when they were both ready for it was another matter altogether, because once he got his act together, he knew there’d be no stopping him.

If of course, she wasn’t with Doyle still. That was a problem that kept cropping up in his best-laid plans for courting Buffy. And isn’t that a sign that William is coming back when you start saying things like ‘courting’, Spike mused to himself, chuckling inwardly.

“Just take what you will from it at this time,” he told her, smiling at the thoroughly confused look on her face.

She opened her mouth to speak and he stopped her by pressing a finger to her lips. “Just take what you will from it for now and save the rest for another time, all right?”

She nodded, eyes wide. Leaning in and chuckling, Spike pressed a kiss to her brow, inhaling her scent and thought, Be ready for me.

********

After that conversation with Spike – or rather William, which she truly wanted to make an effort call him now-- Buffy felt some things shift in regards to their relationship. For one, thinking back on what he was willing to do for her and for Brandon in the name of protecting them, it moved her. All this time she’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to either blow them off completely, have a bazillion affairs now that he was out of Cecily’s clutches, or for him to go back to Cecily and say ‘fuck it all’ to her and to Brandon. Yet, he hadn’t done any of those things and thus far, he’d kept true to his word on what he was going to do.

For another, she had seen the pain in his eyes when he asked her to pass Brandon off as Doyle’s. He hadn’t wanted to do it, that much she could tell – what parent would want to do something like that? Yet his desire to protect his son –and her—was that strong and that had to mean something, didn’t it?

She wondered if she were less of a coward if she’d say, “screw it, I don’t care, he’s your son and I’ll tell them all!” But she was a coward in some respects and that would make things harder, not easier. Not that any of this was easy. However, Brandon came first in her eyes and she didn’t want to subject an innocent child to that kind of slander.

What she replayed the most in her mind, one week to the day later, were the words ”You’re the One, Buffy.”

Oh, how that stirred the pot of her emotions and sent her battered heart fluttering. Those words packed a punch and mended her in ways she had so desperately needed to be mended. What she decided to take away from his comment: She was the one for him. If in fact that was what he actually meant, she wasn’t sure, there were so many ways to interpret that, but that is what she decided to take away from it because that is what she wanted it to mean.

But then what? Wasn’t something supposed to happen after that? Yeah, right. If it were a book or a movie it would. But this is my life, ergo, nothing happens, she thought bitterly as she sent her draft syllabus to the printer. Granted, it was early, mid – July, to be getting ready for classes, but when Faith wanted to take Brandon for a play date (how much playing could infants do?), Buffy figured instead of loafing around or caving and calling Spike, she went to her office and started prepping. Who knew the next time she’d have a few hours to prep anyway?

She was about to get up and head toward the printer across the room when a woman quickly entered her office and all but slammed the door behind her.

“Excuse me?” Buffy said, “Can I help you?”

The woman turned to her and Buffy’s stomach dropped. “Cecily.”

Cecily smirked and waltzed over to stand before Buffy’s desk. “Stay away from my husband.”

Okay, so what did she do now? Play dumb? Say “No, we’re just friends”? Say just plain “No”?

She went with: “Excuse me?”

Cecily shook her head, shooting her a look that clearly told Buffy she thought she was a moron. “Stay away from him. I know what’s going on.”

Buffy snorted. “You know crap, Cecily.”

Cecily smiled and Buffy felt a cold front come in. “I know more than you think.”

“You know what, Cecily? You didn’t scare me in high school and you don’t scare me now. You’re still just a pretentious bitch that thinks she knows everything and owns everyone. Now, get out. Shall I call a taxi or just whistle for the monkey’s to come around with your broom?”

“You think you’re so smart—“

“Smarter than you!”

Cecily smirked, “Your time will come.”

Buffy’s office phone buzzing made her jump slightly and she cursed. Picking it up, she calmly greeted the caller.

”Buffy, it’s Judy, can you come in my office please?”

Buffy froze and looked up at Cecily who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Looks like your time has come now,” Cecily purred and practically skipped out.

Buffy stood and straightened herself, palms sweating. It was not a good sign when Judy, the Head of the English Department, wanted to see you just as Cecily Adams was leaving the building.

Buffy walked on shaky legs to her boss’s office, feeling with every step she was on her way to the guillotine. She pictured Judy, sitting behind her desk with her oversized glasses and stringy brown hair screaming “Off with her head!” as soon as she entered.

What the hell did Cecily do – and so damn fast?

Coming into Judy’s office, Buffy was slammed with cool air from the air conditioner in Judy’s window which was right next to her desk. How could she stand to literally having it blow on her like that? That would make her very cold and—

“Have a seat,” the older woman said without looking over from her computer screen. That was Judy all over, she made you feel like less of a person by barely acknowledging your existence and then often times talking over you and barely listening – or at least it seemed she never listened, but then later she’d go out of her way to do something to show you how much she had been. In Buffy’s opinion, the woman was brilliant and had a quick mind. Buffy had already learned a lot from her, and was hoping to learn more.

That is, if she still had a job after this little meeting was over.

Buffy sat, ramrod straight feeling her heart was going to leap out of her chest with every passing minute. Was this what it felt like before the guillotine? It was a lost practice, but she could just imagine those poor people being led to it, knowing what their fate was going to be. How was it that people could watch a public execution? Maybe if they brought it back people would be frightened into straightening out. Or it’d just make them stealthier in their criminal activities.

Yeah, she was that nervous if she was thinking about bringing back the guillotine and what impact it would have on society and criminals.

Buffy jumped a mile when a folder was flung in her direction and plopped right before her, photo’s falling out. She looked up at Judy.

“Look at them,” Judy said blandly.

Heart beating erratically, Buffy picked up the folder and opened it slowly. Christ. They were photos of her and Spike from the day of “You’re the One, Buffy”; particularly of him holding Brandon and kissing her forehead. Flipping through faster, she could see where the photographer had tried to get a close up of Brandon.

And that would be when the rage hit.

“That fucking bitch. That cow, that—that fucking cun—“

“Elizabeth!” Judy exclaimed.

Buffy had even forgotten she was in the room and what she had been called in for. All she could see was red.

“Miss Adams dropped them off,” Judy went on to say.

“Judy—“

“Do you want to burn them?”

Buffy blinked, “Wh-what?”

“Do you want to burn them?” Judy repeated.

And still, Buffy stared.

“Look,” Judy said, peering at Buffy over her glasses. “I know who the Adams’ are. I know they are the so-called center stones of our community. At least, this is what I’m told and what has been shoved down my throat.
Buffy, I come from a small town in Idaho. I grew up on a farm, I had to work my ass off for everything I wanted and I became the first girl in my family to ever go to college and make something out of her life. Being a housewife was not for me. I always wanted more than the hand that was dealt me.” The older woman smiled then, and placed her glasses on the desk. “I see the same in you. I see you here every morning before everyone arrives, and you’re always the last one to leave at the end of the day. I see the things you do for your students to better them, and to better yourself for your classes. You have a dedication to this institution and to your career. I admire that, I respect that, and what that all comes down to is that I don’t give a flying fuck what that bitch Cecily Adams or her entire family wants me to do or expects me to do. As far as I can see, they are a bunch of trust fund babies that have people do their work for them. Do you think Morgan Adams built that company from the ground up? No, his father did, and Morgan likes to forget that fact. He just flexes his arm and people jump to do his bidding because of who he is. And to me? He’s nothing. He’s a peon despite his celebrity status. He’s no better than goddamn Whitey Bulger in this community as far as I’m concerned, and Miss Adams’ little visit proved to me nothing less than just that.
So, no, I’m not going to fire you; no I’m not going to pry into your life and ask what happened or what’s going on. You don’t have to share with me anything. All I care about is you keeping your job, is you being able to work whilst being home with your baby, because believe it or not, I do know priorities change when a child is involved. I want to work with you, Elizabeth, not against you.”

Buffy hadn’t realized she had tears running down her cheeks until Judy pointed to the box of tissues sitting on her desk. Immediately, Buffy grabbed a few and blew her nose. “What about,” she swallowed, trying to calm herself, “What about the President? She could go to him next.”

Judy smiled. “You let me take care of him. Let’s just say I’ve got some pull in this.”

“Y-you do?” Buffy asked, sniffling.

“I do.”

“Judy…I don’t even know how to thank you--”

Judy waved her hand, “Forget it. Look, I’m going to go against what I just said for a minute and ask you—Is everything all right? Are you in something bad? Is there anything I can do?”

Buffy shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m just muddling through best I can.”

“It’s all any of us can do.”

“Right, I just want a little bit of normalcy is all.”

Judy snorted, “Honey, I don’t think normalcy exists. Life is up, down and all around. It can be a train wreck and it can be a smooth ride in beautiful country. It’s all in how you handle yourself. You can’t control others, but you sure as hell can control yourself.”

“What happens when you feel just a little bit out of control?”

“Then you fight like hell to get it back.”

Buffy laughed, breaking the tension that was in her body and crackling all around her. “Judy—“

“I know, I know. And you’re welcome. Now go on. Get out of here; you’ve been here too long already for summer vacation.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“No ‘ma’am’ yet, please! I’m only forty, and don’t feel like a ‘ma’am’ yet.”

“Are you kidding? Forty is the new twenty,” Buffy said, grinning.

Judy grinned. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

**********

Heading back to her office, Buffy felt as if the life had just been drained out of her. It had been a tense those short few minutes from Cecily to Judy, the pictures and the relief flooding through her when her boss basically told her she was not about to be jobless. Clutching the pictures to her chest, Buffy stepped into her office and was surprised to find Doyle there.

“Hello, lass.”

As soon as Buffy saw him, she burst into tears. The sight of a familiar face that she could trust and didn’t have to answer to, even if she hadn’t had to answer to Judy, she’d thought she was going to have to.

“Lass, what is it?” Doyle asked, concerned, jumping up immediately.

Buffy held up the folder, wordlessly, as she cried.

Opening the folder, Doyle swore. “Bloody fucking hell.”

“I have to see William.”

“What? Why?” Doyle demanded.

“What do you mean why? His ex wife-“

“Still his wife, Buffy.”

Buffy ignored him, “She came to see me and she tried to get me fired. He has to know about this.”

“Cecily gave you these?”

“No, she gave them to my boss and warned me to stay away from William.”

“Why are you calling him William?”

“It’s this new thing I’m trying.”

Doyle looked at her wearily, “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Look, Doyle I don’t have time for jealous bullshit right now. I want to see my baby, and I need to talk to William,” Buffy said all business like and serious as she gathered up her things. “You coming with me or not?”

Doyle nodded, his jaw set firm. He wasn’t pleased, that much Buffy knew, but what did he expect? She couldn’t not tell William. This was not just about her and William, this involved Brandon and Buffy was going to fight like hell to protect her son, and she knew that William wanted the same damn thing.

To all the unheard wisdom in the schoolyard
you think you're the right ones
you think you're the charmed ones I'm sure
how can you go on with such conviction?
and who do you think you are, why do you question me? ~ Can’t Not, Alanis Morrisette

Buffy thought it was a simple instruction that she had given Doyle. He’d even nodded when she said, “Don’t tell Faith what happened.”

He did question her after his nod of agreement. “Why can I not tell her what happened?”

“Because she’ll just lecture me,” Buffy muttered.

“On what exactly?”

She looked over at him as he pulled into Faith’s driveway and studied him for any signs of sarcasm or double meaning to that question; because she got the distinct impression he met something by that seemingly innocent question. His expression, however, was blank and so no answer could be gleaned from that, and his tone had been flat.

She opted to take the route of a double meaning and said simply, “You know what,” before climbing out of the car.

Buffy gave Faith no sign of any trouble. She did not mention Cecily, and as she had learned, she did not mention William. It was a touchy subject with them, Faith often droning on in some fashion about how William was holding her back and keeping her from reaching her potential. What “potential” Buffy was supposed to be working towards, she wasn’t sure, and oftentimes she did feel that William’s presence in her life kept her from moving on past the fairy tale romance she’d built up in her mind of him once upon a time (no pun intended), however, she reminded herself that this was for Brandon, not her.

Besides, she was the “One” now.

“How’d he do?” Buffy asked immediately, not being able to wait to see him. She was nearly crawling out of her skin to see him. The fact that some stranger with a camera had been lurking about trying to get close-ups of her son made her skin crawl. An innocent child was meant to be used as fodder for some insane woman’s inability to be a decent human being and keep her husband happy; most likely because Cecily didn’t know how to treat others like a human being—she treated them as property that could be bought, sold and exploited for her own personal gain. Not that that was any excuse for William’s behavior. It was not. However, Cecily Adams, as far as Buffy was concerned, was a complete loon. She played entirely too dirty and cruel. She wasn’t ready to admit it to William, but she felt sorry for him at that moment. He’d had to deal with her all this time? On the other hand – what the hell had he been thinking?

Buffy hadn’t even given Faith a chance to answer the first question before she was on to asking where he was.

“He’s in the nursery, taking a nap,” Faith told her as Buffy breezed down the hall to the nursery.

As soon as she laid eyes on her son, who was now waking up, Buffy heaved a sigh of relief and immediately welled up in tears. He was safe. He was happy. He was okay. Scooping him up, she cooed and talked to him, asking him questions he obviously couldn’t answer, and prepped him to go by changing his diaper.

When he was ready, Buffy made her way out to the living room where she found Doyle looking slightly guilty and yet fired up, and Faith looking completely fired up. In an instant, she knew.

“I told you not to tell her,” Buffy snapped at Doyle.

“And why shouldn’t I know what that bitch did, huh?” Faith questioned, hands on hips.

“Tried to do,” Buffy corrected.

“Not the point—“

“Faith--”

“You didn’t want me to know because you knew what I’d say. You know I’m right,” Faith said pointing at her.

“No, you’re not right. You want me to cut William out of my life and I’m not willing to do that.”

“So instead you’re going to shove aside something good like Doyle for something scummy like Spike – and why the hell are you calling him William?”

“Because it’s his name,” Buffy said firmly.

Faith shook her head. “You’re really going to fuck up his life—“

“You know what, Faith?” Buffy began, swiping a hand across her forehead.” Shut up. Okay? Just shut up. Brandon is my son, and this is my life.”

“What are you doing with it?” Faith asked, exasperated, throwing up her hands.

“I’m…” Taking a deep breath, Buffy thought back to her conversation with Judy. “I’m fighting like hell to get control back over my life. The life you want to lead for me. I realize I’m not making you happy with my decisions, Faith, but I’m not in this life to make you happy. I’m in this life to make me happy, to make Brandon happy. William isn’t pushing me for anything; he’s just my…friend. Of sorts. He’s Brandon’s father and if you knew what he was willing to give up to keep his son safe—“

“Apparently not that much considering she still got to you.”

“He didn’t have anything to do with that. All he did was leave her. Why should he be with someone like that?”

“Next you’re going to be telling me, it’s all right for him to have screwed around on her!”

Buffy shook her head, “No, I won’t tell you that because I don’t condone that. He should have got out sooner – or not got in at all. However, I’m working on trying to be forgiving and making peace with things, for that’s the only way to move on and it’s not fair that William should be condemned for the rest of his life for those mistakes that he now is atoning for. For that matter, neither should I. Part of my atoning for my sins is having everyone feel they can now tell me how to live my life. Apparently, I’m such a fuck up, I shouldn’t even be leading it!”

“He lied to you, Buffy. He presented himself as someone that he wasn’t and wanted to carry on his affair with you while staying married. How is that okay?”

“It’s not, and he knows it now. Honestly, I don’t think he was planning on staying with her after he met me.”

Faith threw up her arms again. “That what he tell you? Oh Jesus Christ, he’s got you wrapped doesn’t he?” Shaking her head, Faith walked away. “I can’t even talk to you right now.”

“Faith!” Buffy called after her.

But Faith kept going until she was out of sight.

Buffy turned to Doyle, gave him a disappointed look, and set about setting Brandon up in his car seat.

“Buffy—“

“Is there one favor you can follow through on?”

“Buffy—“

“Can you?” she persisted.

Doyle sighed heavily, “What is it?”

“Can you call me a cab?”

“I’ll give you a ride—“

“I don’t want a ride from you right now. In fact, I don’t want anything from you right now.”

“Buffy, I’m sorry. She knew something was up, she could tell—“

“I’m sure. And you just had to tell her.”

“I’ll call the goddamn cab,” Buffy snapped and placed Brandon on the floor in his car seat and snatched the phonebook sitting on an end table and then the phone. When she was done, she took Brandon and his things and started for the door.

“Buffy, please, just—“ Doyle pleaded.

“No!” Buffy shouted, turning to him.

“So, what – you can forgive Spike his sins, but not mine?” Doyle asked angrily.

“William doesn’t tell me how to live my life, and he doesn’t get upset with me when I don’t do what he wants. I’m not a robot, you can’t program me.”

“That’s because Spike has no room to try and tell anyone how to live their lives.”

“Maybe not, but then neither do I, neither do you, and neither does Faith.”

“Buffy, we’re not trying to tell you how to live your life; we’re trying to help you.”

“And when I don’t do what it is you want, you question my ability to take care of myself and Brandon. It’s a wonder I can even get out of bed in the morning with the way you people act!”

“I’m sorry,” Doyle whispered. “I truly am.”

“We’ll talk later,” Buffy said softly and went to meet her cab.

********

“William?”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in a cab on my way to your house and it dawned on me that you might not even be there. Are you?”

“I am. What’s going on, luv? You sound upset.”

“I’ve kind of had a rough day and I need to see you.”

“What happened, luv? Are you hurt? Is Brandon all right? Is he hurt?”

With tears cascading down her cheeks, Buffy shook her head. Yeah, like he was going to see that. “No, we’re fine.”

“Buffy, luv, tell me what it is. I can hear your crying, what is it, luv, please?”

“Cecily paid me a visit today while I was at work. She tried to get me fired by dropping off some pictures she had of us in the park last week. The photographer,” she took a shuddering breath, “tried to get close ups of Brandon.”

“Who has those pictures now?” Spike asked, his voice taking on a cool edge.

“I do.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Come on try a little, nothing is forever,
there’s got to be something better
than in the middle.~ One Headlight, Wallflowers

Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin' ~ Savin’ Me, Nickelback

True to his word, William was there when she arrived, but instead of waiting for her to come to him, he came running out to greet her just as it started to rain. He looked worried and contemplative, his main concern seemed, as hers had been, to get to Brandon. Working together to get the car seat out of the cab, William paid her fare, waving her money away, and told her to get inside.

Running inside, Buffy turned to find William not far behind, having adjusted Brandon’s little canopy on his car seat so that their baby was covered from the pelting drops. For some reason, at that moment, he looked more like a father taking care of his child than he ever had before and she felt her heart swell at the sight. When he came inside, he stood before her, set Brandon down on the floor beside him, and immediately gathered Buffy up in his arms.

”Are you all right?” he asked softly, holding her in a tight bear hug.

She shivered, the contrast of cool to warm causing her skin to break out in goosebumps. “I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry she came to see you,” he murmured and cupped her face in his hands, gazing down at her imploringly.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to not look at his lips and telling herself that this was not a time for kissing. Even if at that moment, it seemed the natural next move. Sinking into that kind of comfort from him would just lead to more upheaval and confusion. Best to keep it simple.

“It’s not your fault,” she tried, but William was hearing none of it.

He shook his head and picked Brandon back up, motioning for her to head toward the elevator. “How can you say that?”

Pushing the button for the elevator, Buffy turned to him. “It’s not your fault she’s nutter.”

William grinned, “Adopting my phrases there, pet?”

She shrugged, “Why not?”

William sighed and shook his head again. “You can’t deny the fact that it’s because of me this is happening.”

Truth was, she couldn’t deny it. Not completely anyway. Turning back round, she contemplated the facts. He was at the heart of it all. He and Cecily, their marriage, his infidelity, his leaving – all of it was him right at the center of it. And now she was drug into it, Brandon along for the bumpy ride. On the other hand—

“I think Cecily would have done this no matter if you’d been faithful or not. And besides, do you know for certain that she knows anything about…us?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then it’s all up for debate on that,” Buffy said, turning back to him. “I have a feeling that Cecily would have done the same thing no matter what. Say she doesn’t know about me from before, and just found out now. For all she knows, I’m your long-lost cousin, or a new friend you made. I could be anybody to you and she doesn’t know it.”

“Chances are she does if she knows where you work and has your name.”

“Not necessarily. She can find out any number of facts on me, but until she investigates deeper, she can’t know what your relationship is to me. Until then it’s all based on hearsay.”

“Smart bird, you are,” William mused, smirking.

Buffy grinned at him just as the elevator floors dinged open. Stepping inside she said, “Well, it’s like I tell my students, sure you have a text in front of you that backs up an idea you have, but your job as a researcher is to find other texts to back you up. You can’t just take one persons word for it. The same goes for Cecily. She’s got a text,” and she held up the file,” in front of her, but she has nothing to back it up except this one text. We weren’t fornicating on the bench, William. We were talking, and you were holding Brandon. For all she knows, I was some woman that just told you I was your half sister that you never knew about and you were giving me a kiss on the forehead out of joy to have a half-sister and a nephew.”

“And if she has evidence to the contrary?”

“Then that’s why I’m here. In case she does.”

He fell silent as they rode the rest of the way to his apartment. He was back to being contemplative. Following him down, she wondered what he was thinking and marveling at how the roles had reversed from needing him to calm her and now she was the one calming him.

He stayed silent as he helped her change Brandon into something dry and Buffy sensed he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He retreated to the kitchen to warm Brandon’s bottle and when she started to feed her now crying little bundle, William opened the file and sorted through them, his gaze turning darker and sadder with every picture.

He looked up, finally, at her. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Why are you sticking through this? It’d be so much easier if you just went and hell, I’d completely get it.”

”Do you want me to go?”

”Yes.”

That hurt. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to have to be part of this. Because I don’t want him to be part of this. Buffy, she tried to get you fired today.”

“She didn’t succeed.”

“That’s not the point!” William exclaimed and jumped up, now pacing.

“Well, it feels like a small victory to me.”

“Yeah, that’s just it. Small. Who knows what the fuck else she has planned? I mean did you know that I’m virtually unhirable? I have tried already to submit my resume out and I’ve gotten a ‘no thank you’ or ‘we’re not hiring at this time’ by every single place I’ve tried. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

“Well the economy is tough right now, William--”

“Fuck the goddamn economy and you know it. It’s her, it’s them.”

“Will--”

He held up his hand. “No more excuses.” Raking a hand through his hair, he took a ragged sigh and sat, burying his face in his hands, hunching forward. “I should just go back to her. Go back to her and make it all stop. It’s too much.”

“You defeatist son of a bitch,” Buffy spat through clenched teeth.

William’s head popped up and his eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me. You’re such a…giver upper!”

“Buffy, I’m trying to do what’s best here.”

“Don’t tell me that it’s just for me and for Brandon either. No, it’s for you, not for us. You want to give up because it’d be easier for you at this point.”

He stared at her, blinking.

“And if that’s what you really want to do, then tell me now and me and Brandon will go. If you think about fighting me to see him, I will file against you, because I am not going to have my son around that psycho, and I am sure as hell not going to let him be raised by a fucking coward.”

William still continued to stare.

“And you’re just going to have to wait until I finish feeding him before I leave cause otherwise he’s going to flip out on me--”

“Buffy, I’m not going back to her.”

“What?”

“I’m not going back to her.”

“Then why--”

“Because I am a coward. I have cowardly moments, but…but even I can see how terrible it’d be if I gave in to those feelings of making things ‘easier’ by going back. And it’s what she wants, obviously, and I’ve been very much struck lately by not wanting to give that bitch what she wants. It’s just…looking at these pictures, Buffy, it makes it hard to see them and see you and him and…” he shook his head. “So yeah, I have those moments when I think I should throw in the towel and make it easy because it’s what I know to do.”

“Will?”

”Yeah?”

“Was it ever really that easy before?”

He stared at her and then started laughing. “No, pet, it wasn’t, it really wasn’t.”

“So wouldn’t you rather just do this and be done with it than go back and live through hell? The pay off at the end will be so much better.”

”It’s everything in the interim that sucks.”

”Well, yes, that’s usually how it is.”

“You’re just chock full of good advice, aren’t you?”

“Only when it comes others,” she said dryly.

“I want to take these to my attorney’s,” William said, gesturing to the file.

“I figured as much. Maybe they can step up whatever it is they’re doing.”

“Yeah, like following her.”

“We’ll get through this, William, we will.”

He stared at her, his expression tender and full of awe. “It’s really not your battle, luv. Why are being here for me, when really, I should be there for you?”

“Because I know what it’s like to stumble, fall, get up, stumble again, fall, stumble yet again, et cetera. I’m still stumbling and falling and still getting up. I’m working on coasting next. I’m thinking it all hinges on how I handle the wreck and walk away from it. If I can coast, I figure I’ll be good.”

William chuckled. “You think you can teach me how to do that?”

“Maybe we can learn how together.”

William smiled, “I’d like that.”

Fix me now I wish you would
Bring me back to life
Kiss me blind somebody should
From hollow into light ~ Fix Me Now, Garbage


Buffy was discovering how hard it was to maneuver a child in a bookstore. Brandon was as happy as a clam, babbling in his car seat, playing with the colorful dangly toys that swished on his lap every time she moved. It was a good thing he was happy, cause she wasn’t.

“Glad you’re happy, boy,” she told him, looking down at him. His eyes flickered to her and he smiled which then caused Buffy to giggle. Okay, he was just too darn adorable.

Thankfully, the line to the author to get her book signed was moving along at a fairly decent pace. Buffy figured she had about another half hour before her little boy started fussing for food.

Moving again, Buffy picked up the car seat and accidentally knocked the guy in front of her with it in his calf. He turned and she smiled apologetically. “Sorry. Tricky things these car seats.”

He smiled, his warm chocolate eyes traveling down to Brandon who looked up at him with a look that said it was the man’s fault for being in the way, not his mothers and certainly not his, and then returned to his toys, babbling away.

The guy chuckled. “He’s cute.”

Buffy laughed as she watched her son play. “Thank you.”

“How old is he?”

“He’ll be two months next week.”

Turning, the guy smiled and stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Riley.”

Really studying him now, Buffy noted how easy-going and natural he seemed. His looks were wholesome, and he was handsome with his sandy blond hair and gentle features. He was dressed comfortably in jeans and a cream pocket t-shirt; he was all sorts of casual and comfortable. Inviting. That was the word. He seemed inviting. The kind of person you could really talk to, and seeing how she was on the market for new friends…

Not that she didn’t harbor the hope that one day she could work things out with Faith and Doyle – and it wasn’t as if Doyle hadn’t tried to contact her the past week, he had. She’d kindly told him, however, that she was needed a break. Instead of trying to explain her side over and over and meet resistance at every turn, she figured her best course of action was to just take a break and let them both get their heads on straight. Really, it was either that, or she was going to have to kick some ass, and she was thinking the dating thing for them had pretty much flown out the window. The fact that he’d gone and told Faith about Cecily and her going to see William after she asked him not to, really made her blood boil. Especially when she figured out why he did it. He figured, she was sure, he wanted Faith on his side to gang up on her and bully her into feeling guilty about going to see William and sticking by him. In that way, he could be sure to keep her for himself.

This was what she was guessing anyway; it wasn’t as if she’d had confirmation from him on it. And was that something he would ever admit to? If there was one thing she’d learned about human behavior it was that more often than not, people did crappy things that they constantly made excuses for to justify it to themselves and to the other person that they had their best interest at heart and not their own personal gain. She would actually have a lot more respect for Doyle if he just told her that he’d tried to manipulate her in that situation to keep her for himself because he was afraid to lose her to William, than being crappy about it and make excuses that it was really all for her.

Of course, that would mean actually having to talk to him, and that wasn’t happening anytime soon. She wanted to keep a clear head when she spoke with him, not have it turn into one big sarcastic biting match. As for Faith…oh, Faith. Well, Faith was another matter altogether. Faith could never admit when she was wrong and even if the girl did realize she had been out of line; she wasn’t going to be admitting it anytime soon. That was fine. Faith could take all the time she needed to come out of her self-righteous kick and talk to her. Buffy sure wasn’t begging to talk with her at the moment.

Willow, bless her heart, was experiencing love and Buffy didn’t think it necessary to drag her into the drama that surrounded her. She didn’t need that crap. Finding true love with someone should be unhindered and fun, all the nasty things people could do to one another need not be part of it. It was all part of that purity that Buffy so desperately wanted to believe existed. Willow was her last hope.

So, it was with all that in mind, that Buffy stuck out her hand and hoped perhaps this went beyond idle chitchat in a bookstore. “I’m Elizabeth Summers, or, just Buffy for short.”

His eyes widened. “Buffy from BU?”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yeah?” Had Cecily hired someone to trail her now?

“I just got hired by Judy—I’m the new professor in the American Lit program.”

So, paranoia had set in courtesy of Cecily, and everyone around her immediately became suspect. It struck Buffy how much power that woman and that family had even when they weren’t doing anything.

“How did you hear about me?” Buffy asked, picking Brandon up again as the line moved.

Riley backed up. “Judy told me I should meet you. Said you were a year in at the school and that you were incredibly nice and brilliant and I should talk to you if I had any questions.”

Judy, Buffy was sure now, was her own personal guardian angel. She couldn’t help but beam at the compliment. “Wow.”

Riley grinned, “Small world isn’t it? Here you are.”

“Here I am, and here you are.” God, she sucked at this now. She steps out of the loop for a while and becomes inept at how to converse with others. Instead, dorky things come out of her mouth…. though, Riley was kind of dorky too. In a sweet and completely honest sort of way. She threw him a dazzling smile that she hoped would cover her social retardation and he grinned.

“Is your husband around?”

She faltered a bit. “Oh, I’m not…I’m not married.”

“Engaged?”

“No…” now she felt like a loser, like one of those women.

“It’s really none of my business, sorry. My wife Sam is right over there in the café.”

That threw Buffy for a minute. He was married? She looked down at his ring finger. No ring. She looked back up at him and must have had a questioning look on his face because he looked sheepish. “I was fixing the pipes at our house and lost the ring. It’s on order.”

God, that was just so…sweet. Perfect. Innocent. Honest. “Where is she?” Buffy asked, looking toward the café that was in sight.

Riley waved and a woman with light brown hair waved back, smiling. Buffy waved to her and the woman waved back. Talk about trust and talk about being okay with your husband chatting up another woman in line. God, Buffy wanted that. If she were with William and he chatted on some chick in line, would she be okay with it? Or wonder?

“Listen, do you mind if I pick your brain after this is done? Have a coffee with me, Sam and Junior?”

“Junior?”

”Oh, you probably can’t see him behind the partition, but he’s in his car seat with Sam.”

“How old?”

“One month yesterday.”

Buffy grinned, “I’d love to have coffee with you, Sam and Junior. Though I doubt Junior’s going to be drinking coffee…”

Riley blushed, “No, of course not. He definitely doesn’t need it.”

“Neither does Brandon.”

“I like that name.”

“Thanks!”

“So, tell me about Judy…”

********

The other two most important people in William’s life, aside from Buffy and Brandon were coming to see him and he paced the airport waiting area, waiting for them to come off the plane.

When people started filing out, William felt like a kid at Christmas. And then he saw them.

“Mom! Dad!” he waved wildly at them and nearly wept when they came toward him, the both of them engulfing him in a hug.

“God, I’m so glad you’re here,” he gasped, trying to keep his tears of relief at bay.

Anne Giles looked up at him and brushed some hair from face and then patted the side of his face, smiling up at him reassuringly. “Of course we’re here. I want to see my grandson.”

William smiled. “He’s beautiful mom, you’re going to love him.”

“Besides,” Rupert Giles said, patting his son on the back. “Did you really think we’d leave you to handle all this alone? You need us now, son.”

William nodded, the tears coming no matter what. “I do, I really do.”

“Come now dear,” Anne said, slinking her arm through William’s and leading him off to baggage claim whilst handing him a tissue she had, of course, in her pocket. It smelled of lipstick and gum. A scent he always associated with her. “Tell me about this Buffy.”

“Buffy sounds like a smart girl,” Anne said later while she sipped tea and poured over the few photo’s William had of Brandon.

“She is,” William couldn’t help but gush.

“And your son is absolutely gorgeous…” Anne gushed, “My grandson,” she got a faraway look in her eyes. “When do I get to meet them?”

William fidgeted in his chair and busied himself with collecting the photo’s back in the album he’d bought specifically to keep photo’s of his son in. “I don’t know, Mum.”

The sound of the clock and Giles’ muffled voice talking to Angel in the next room were the only sounds in the apartment. William itched for some background noise and stood to put the TV on.

Anne sat at the dining room table and watched her son, studied him with that acute eye and William braced himself for the onslaught of questions that she’d have now that they were face-to-face.

“You love her, don’t you, William?”

Here we go, William thought.

“Cecily?” William joked, turning on the TV. “No.”

“Come sit down. Don’t hide from your mother. I know you, William.”

William sighed. “Yeah, I know you know me. Doesn’t that come with the territory?”

“Not necessarily.”

William slid back into his chair. “What do you mean?”

“Well, do you know Brandon?”

“What do you mean? Of course I know him. He’s my son,” William answered indignantly.

“Do you know his schedule? Do you know what makes him laugh? Cry? Do you know the things to do to make him stop crying? Do you know when he takes a nap? When he goes to bed?”

“Well,” William said thoughtfully, “I know he likes it when I hold him. He smiles at me an awful lot.”

“That’s a good first step. Why don’t you have a place where he can stay here, hmm? You’re his father, you need to make a room for him, William.”

William ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.

“Anne, for heaven’s sake, leave the poor boy alone. We haven’t even been here an hour yet!” Giles admonished his wife. “Things are precarious right now with the Adams’. If he starts bringing a child round here, those sharks will be all over it, ready to smear William’s name as well as Brandon’s and the young lady.”

“Buffy,” William offered.

“Right. Buffy. Angel and Lindsey are working on Cecily’s attorney right now.”

William smiled. “I know Dad. Seems the bugger isn’t helping matters by not putting the pressure on her to sign. He’s playing games.”

“That’s why he’s their attorney. Those that play dirty always have someone to pay them to do it. Angel and Lindsey will do what they need to do to put the pressure on him as well, I’m sure.”

“Meanwhile, she is trying to single-handedly ruin my life and Buffy’s. Do you know that I’m virtually un-hirable in this city? I can’t get a fucking job anywhere and then Buffy nearly lost hers because of Cecily. She had pictures, Dad, pictures of Brandon, pictures of me and Buffy and Brandon together.” He turned to his mother, “That is why I can’t have a room here for him. Not yet. Not until those papers are signed. Once that happens…she can’t touch me, she has no more sympathy vote.”

“That’s not true, son,” Giles amended. “She will for she is an Adams, however, people will lose interest in the ‘woman scorned’ routine quick enough. What jobs have you tried for?”

“Just about every marketing firm in the city.”

“Have you considered trying something else? You have a strong background in English studies and writing. Perhaps something in that field?”

William stopped and stared, feeling stupid. “No, I haven’t tried that.”

Giles grinned sympathetically. “Sometimes when we meet a few obstacles like that, we tend to start seeing the forest before the trees.”

William shrugged, “I guess. It’s just what I’ve done for so long. Plucked out of school and placed in hell.”

Giles chuckled. “Well, now it’s time to find your own hell instead of one that’s been made for you. Let me take a look at your resume.”

“Dad, you don’t have to do that. I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were,” Giles bristled.

“Now who’s poking their nose where they don’t belong?” Anne asked dryly. “Listen, William, it’s not that we don’t think you can handle these things, we just want to give you the benefit of our experience. In some ways, you’ve not been connected the world having been under their thumb. There are certain privileges that come attached and ready made when you have a name for yourself as the Adams’ do. We just want to look out for you, dear. You sounded so lost and bereft on the phone, we want to do what we can to help.”

“I understand that, Mum, but…but I don’t want you doing everything for me the way they did. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet and walk like a man for once,” William explained.

“You have to learn to crawl before you walk, son,” Giles said wisely.

William rolled his eyes. “I know. Unfortunately, I know. I just don’t have to like it.” He hated it, in fact. His mother was right about how he’d been kept from the world in some respects. He felt as if he’d been stripped bare and all the things he’d known as his reality once upon a time had shifted and changed. He had a whole new world laid out before and there were a lot of things in it that scared him. As much as he thought he was much more cultured and in tune with life than the Adams’ had been, he was figuring out that there were a still a lot of things that he didn’t know – and was learning every day. He was his own man all right, except he wasn’t quite sure who that was.

“It will get better, William, you’ve just got to give it a bit of time is all,” Anne assured him.

“I just feel like I’ve been out of touch with the world in so many ways for so long…I feel as though I were leading someone else’s life and now I have no choice but to be me and I don’t know who that is,” William confessed. “All I know is that I love my son and …”

“And you love that young woman,” Anne said softly, reaching across the table and patting her son’s hand. “Don’t you?”

William took a trembling breath and nodded, “I do.”

“Does she know, William?”

“No, I can’t… I can’t tell her that.”

“Why ever not?”

“Anne, honestly,” Giles scolded once more.

“No, Dad, it’s all right. It actually feels really good to be able to tell someone. I haven’t had many to talk to about this.”

“Tell me dear, why can’t you tell her? Wouldn’t she be happy to know that you love her? Anyone I think would be happy to know someone loves them.”

“Not necessarily by me, Mum. Not after what I did to her. How I lied to her.”

“Have you been honest with her since then?”

“Since she came back in my life? Yes.”

“Continue with that then. Show her by your actions and not your words for now.”

William smiled, “Thanks, Mum.”

“So, when do I get to meet my grandson and the woman that stole my son’s heart, hmmm?”

“Buffy’s phone!”

William hesitated. Who the hell was answering her phone? “Hello?”

“Hi! Buffy is tending to a soiled diaper right now and can’t get to her phone. Who’s this?”

“This is William,” he answered tensely. “Who are you?”

“I’m Riley Finn, a friend of Buffy’s.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“I just met her today at the bookstore.”

“You just made friends with her today at the bookstore?”

Anne came in the room then and placed a hand on his arm. “Son?” she asked softly.

What happened to Doyle? He’d gotten the impression that things were not going well, or rather not going at all, but who was this bloke that sounded entirely too cheerful and pleased with life? That was just insane.

“She done yet?” William barked into the phone and walked away from his mother.

“Uh…yeah, here she is.” Riley sounded nervous. Good.

“Hello?”

“Buffy, who the hell was that?”

“Riley--”

“Who is Riley?” William pressed impatiently.

“He’s someone I met--”

“At the bookstore, I know. I heard that part. What happened to Doyle?”

“What do you mean what happened to Doyle? He’s…Doyle. Why have you heard something?”

“Aren’t you dating him?”

“Well, no, not anymore, Will—what’s going on? Why do you sound so angry?”

“Are you dating Riley?”

Buffy burst out laughing and William narrowed his eyes. “No, Will, I’m not dating Riley. Riley is married. His lovely wife Sam is right here, with their child, Riley Junior.”

Now he felt like an idiot. “Oh.”

“Were you jealous?” she teased and laughed airily.

“Are you busy right now?”

“Well, we were just having some coffee cake and tea. What’s up?”

“I wanted to know if you would come to dinner with my parents and I tonight.” God, he felt like he was a pimply high schooler asking the most popular girl out. Funnily enough, he was the pimply high schooler that would have been asking Buffy Summers out if he’d ever worked up the nerve to do so. Course, he wouldn’t have been asking her out for dinner with his parents.

“Y-you want me to go out to dinner with your parents?” she stammered so cutely.

He smiled into the phone, “Yes,” he purred.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to meet them and they want to meet their grandson.”

“Oh my.”

“Buffy Summers, are you nervous?”

“Yes!”

He laughed, “Why?”

“Because it’s the parents…that’s a huge deal, Will. What if they don’t like me?”

“Impossible.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. My mum is already dying to meet you. If you don’t come out, I’ll have to hear it all night that she didn’t get to meet the woman that stole—that gave her a grandson.” He winced, hoping his near slip up of ‘stole his son’s heart’, went undetected.

“When did they come in?”

“This morning.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“What?” he said defensively.

“You’ve known for how long they were coming?”

He swallowed, “Two weeks.”

“And I’m just finding out now? A little preparation would have been nice, William.”

He grinned. “I’m liking the scolding schoolmistress.”

She laughed, “When is dinner? I’ll get Brandon and I all gussied up.”

“Oh, pet, you really are a geek. No one says that anymore.”

“They do in my world, so bite me.”

Chuckling, William told her dinner would be in an hour.

“I’ll be there,” she told him. “Gussied up.” And she hung up before William could make fun of her once more.

********

What did one wear when one met the grandparents of one’s son? How did she exactly describe the exact nature of her relationship with William? What had he told them? Had he said, “Hi, I want you to meet the girl I had a one-night-stand with and now have a kid with”? Did he call her his friend? She hadn’t even told Riley and Sam the exact nature of her situation. That sounded funny. Her “situation”. Women did this sort of thing everyday, didn’t they? Okay, maybe not to this caliber, but they were single mothers, and it was always the same wasn’t it? It was described as their having a “situation”.

So, how did she go about describing William? Her friend? Just the father of her child? He felt like more than that to her. The exact nature of what “more” constituted, she was not willing to explore at that moment. There were still things – Cecily and her antics aside—that warranted Buffy’s hesitancy in delving into the game of “What are my feelings for William Giles?” She was afraid that once she opened that can of worms, everything would unravel—and more so than they had already. Considering all that had unraveled so far, she was thinking that would just bring on the apocalypse.

So, what the freaking hell was he to her?

Buffy hummed thoughtfully while Brandon lay on his blanket in the middle of her bedroom carpet, gurgling and playing with the toys hovering above him.

“I suppose I’m his friend, Brandon,” she told her son. “We’ve certainly been through enough so far to warrant that.” Even if I did hate him for a long time. Even if I do still hate him sometimes…or at least hate myself for not being able to hate him. God, I hate him.

*********

In the end, Buffy decided on something simple and yet elegant. William had told her they were going to a “nice” place, but he was a man, so whom the hell knew what that meant. He could think Wendy’s was fine dining for all she knew. Although, he did just come out of an upscale lifestyle, so maybe he still held some of those “snob” tendencies.

Somehow though, she doubted it. So, she chose a mid calf-length teal skirt that flared and flowed and was quite summery, a white v-neck that had a respectable dip – there would be no cleavage pouring out – and a matching cardigan. Strappy sandals with a slight heel completed the look. She was dressed comfortably, and yet respectably. Just what she was going for these days. Brandon was a light blue jumper with little baby lions sprinkled throughout, and a matching cap that he kept tearing off. He even had a matching bib, and the blue brought out his eyes – his eyes that were just like his fathers.

The door swung open and there stood, who could only be, William’s mother. Buffy smiled brilliantly at her. “Hi!”

The woman smiled warmly at her. She looked like such a welcoming sort of woman – the kind that would bake cookies and have them and a tall glass of milk ready for you at the end of the day to unwind. “Hello, I’m William’s mother, Anne. So nice to finally meet you, Buffy.”

“Thank you,” Buffy said politely.

Ushering Buffy and Brandon in, Anne gasped in delight at the sight of Brandon. “Oh, Buffy, he’s so beautiful!” she gushed.

Buffy grinned fondly down at Brandon. “Isn’t he?”

“Come, come, put him down so I can get a good look at him.”

Buffy placed Brandon down on the sofa in William’s living room, smiling at Anne’s reaction to her grandson. She felt a pang of hurt; her own parents had yet to see him. They’d been appalled of how she’d conceived and it was as if they took on a denial sort of attitude to the whole thing – if they didn’t see it, it wasn’t true. They had barely even called to see how she was. So this, this was nice. At least Brandon would have one set of grandparents that were thrilled with his appearance into the world.

William and an older gentleman, whom she had to guess was his father, came in the room, William beaming at her. “Hey luv. I’m sorry we didn’t think things through well enough. We should have come to get you.”

“Hello, Rupert Giles, but you can call me Giles,” William’s father greeted her, shaking her hand firmly. “I take full responsibility for the inconvenience. I got it in my head to get a rental car for our stay and then of course wanted to drive around the city and see the sights I hadn’t seen in so long.”

Buffy waved a hand, “Really, it’s all right. I’m used to taking public transportation with him. I’m thinking the taxis don’t necessarily appreciate it though. I’m thinking of acquiring a car so that Brandon and I can just zip around much easier.”

“I know a wonderful car dealer in the city, I will take you to him,” Giles smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

William rolled his eyes. “Dad knows everyone in the city and can always ‘get a deal’. You need anything while he’s here, just let him know.”

Buffy giggled. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

“Rupert, come here and take a gander at your grandson!” Anne demanded, now holding Brandon up and cooing at him.

Buffy smiled broadly at William. “I love them,” she said quietly and turned to watch his parent fawn over Brandon.

“They love you too,” William whispered huskily in her ear.

She jumped a bit, goose bumps forming from his close proximity and the feel of his breath on her skin. “They just met me,” she whispered back.

“I’m their son. I can tell. Trust me.”

She looked up at him, at the tender and warm expression on his face and thought as she shuddered, Oh boy. I’m in big trouble. Those feelings she wasn’t ready to delve in and deal with, well, she had a feeling she was going to have to soon.

“Hey, Will?” Buffy asked once she and William were on their way to the restaurant Giles had chosen – now that the man was back in the city, there were a few favorite places he wished to reacquaint himself with. Currently, Buffy and William were following them in William’s car since Brandon took up a bit of room in his car seat and for comfort reasons; it made more sense to take two cars.

“Yes, love?”

For some reason, his endearments on this particular evening were making her blush. Her body was still humming from the husky whispered words in her ear from earlier and she felt a stirring in her center. To put it simply, Buffy was horny and her body wanted William. Tough, she thought.

“What did you exactly tell your parents about me?”

He grinned, “Nervous?”

“Well, duh, yeah. I mean…I don’t know if you’ve censored certain things or—“

“Well, I didn’t go into detail about how we conceived Brandon, luv. Unless of course you want me to tell them how you rode me to a gallop--”

“William!” she admonished, cutting him off and making him chuckle. “Your son is in the backseat,” she hissed.

He continued to chuckle. “He doesn’t understand what that all means yet.” He looked at her quickly, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Look at you. All with the blushing.”

“You’re flirty tonight,” she observed, trying to sound calm and businesslike while inside she was unraveling. This William was saucy. There wasn’t an air of melancholy about him; he wasn’t so down trodden and feeling sorry for himself. Instead, there was confidence. There was--

“Spike,” she blurted out.

“What?”

“You’re acting like Spike,” she stated.

“Is that bad?” he asked, shifting the car into another gear.

“I don’t know. You haven’t been him in quite a while.”

“Buffy, he’s part of me; he’s not a completely separate entity.”

“I know that,” she whispered.

“Then what is it?”

“You’re just…” she shook her head. “Forget it.”

“No, you’re not getting out of it that easy. Tell me.”

“You’re making me nervous,” she blurted out and then promptly held her breath for the fall out.

“Why?” he asked, and bless him, sounded genuinely concerned.

“Because with Spike I feel like I don’t know what to expect.”

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “You mean with Spike you get lies and lines.”

Buffy didn’t want to say yay or nay to that, so she opted to keep silent.

“Buffy, luv,” William whispered and placed his warm hand over hers that was on her lap. He squeezed her hand gently. “No more lies. None. No matter how ‘flirty’ I get, it’s still me and this guy isn’t going to play games with you. Not anymore. There’s too much at stake here, and I don’t just mean Brandon. I mean with you and me.”

Her breath hitched and her heart felt as though it were going to leap out of her chest. “What?” she managed to croak out.

“You and I…we’re friends, yeah?”

She exhaled, feeling some tension and, truthfully, some excitement leave her body. “Yeah, we are.”

“So I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize what we have. You’re…you’ve done so much for me… you know all this though, yes?”

She nodded, “Yes.” I’m the One.

Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “Actions speak louder than words, I know. So, I will show you rather than tell you that you can count on me. Sound good?”

She smiled warmly, looking at him. Flipping her hand around so that she could instead grab his, she brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Buffy…” he whispered and heaved a ragged sigh. Taking his hand back, he inhaled slowly and exhaled just as slow.

“Are you all right?” she asked, concerned. What had she done?

“You don’t know what you do to me, luv, you just don’t know,” he murmured.

“Spike--”

“I gave them the abbreviated version. I made you sound like an angel, which to me you are, so it wasn’t much of a stretch.”

Buffy blinked, the switch in topics throwing her. Light dawned and she shook her head, shifting the gears in her head back to the previous conversation the way he shifted the gears of his car. “Oh. Okay…You made me sound like an angel? How the hell did you spin that? I mean, I slept you the first night!”

“Buffy,” he said sternly, and looked at her just as sternly. “Stop beating yourself up for that. I told them we’d been seeing each other for some time, and that I kept my marriage a secret from you.”

“Which is all true.”

“Quite.”

Silence fell, and there was some kind of uncomfortable tension in the air that Buffy couldn’t quite place.

“Buffy, we…we had a connection, right?”

“We did,” she said softly.

“And we still do, right?”

“We just covered that we did.”

“I mean that – forget it. Ah, we’re here.”

That ended conversation effectively and Buffy felt it was very much a “Saved by the bell” moment.

She had been right in her previous assertion before they’d left for the night: she was in trouble.

********

Previous discomfort and intense fear of blazing down the path of sorting out the exact nature of her feelings for William aside, Buffy was having a fantastic evening. William’s parents were warm, welcoming and intelligent people. While Anne lectured her son on how to properly care for his son, Buffy and Giles had engaged in conversation about British Literature. Buffy could see where William not only got his smarts, but his tenderness. The presence of his parents was doing wonders for William. He was at ease, he was comfortable, and he appeared free of worry of the Adams’ and what they might have planned next. Without his concern of anyone catching them out together, Buffy felt her concern leave as well.

When dinner was over, Anne insisted she help Buffy put Brandon to bed as she desperately wanted to see where her grandson lived. She was a doting grandmother all right, and that was perfectly fine as far as Buffy was concerned. She felt a rush of joy for her son: such a boy as him should have all the love and affection in the world. She felt often that she’d burst from loving him so much, so seeing that facet in others brought an incomparable joy to her.

Going through the routine with Anne, Buffy was pleased to see William watching closely and lending a hand where he could. Or rather, when his mother would relinquish her right to help.

Once Brandon was snug as a bug in a rug and drifting off into la-la land, the threesome retreated to the living room where Giles had made himself at home. He had respectfully declined helping with the business of putting Brandon to bed. The older gentleman remarked that eight hands were not needed to put a baby to bed, and he’d make sure to make it up to Brandon in other ways in the near future.

“I have tea, if you’d like tea--” Buffy started to offer when Anne let out a loud yawn.

“Oh heavens,” Anne murmured, putting her hand politely over her mouth and smiling sheepishly. “I think the flight is catching up with me. How about you, Rupert?”

Giles shrugged, “I’m fi--”

Buffy stifled a giggle when she spied Anne elbowing him in the ribs.

Giles cleared his throat and faked a yawn. “Yes, me too,” he agreed.

William rolled his eyes. “Dad, Mom, honestly—“

“We have the key!” Anne chirped, tugging her husband toward the door. “And we won’t be waiting up! See you soon, my dear.”

“Thank--!” Buffy started, following them to the door, trying to be a gracious hostess. And then the door shut behind them before she could finish. “You.” She turned and looked up at William. “Can you thank your parents for dinner for me tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, pet.” He shook his head. “Could they have been any more obvious?”

Buffy giggled, “That was pretty funny, you have to admit.”

“More like embarrassing.”

“They’re parents; they’re supposed to be embarrassing.”

“What of yours? They like that?”

Buffy sighed heavily and shook her head. “No. They’re not. They’re…kind of prim and proper. Not quite like your ex-wife’s family, but yeah, they’re not that fun and engaging.”

“They haven’t seen Brandon yet, have they?”

“No, and who knows when they will.” Wrinkling her nose, she looked up at Will. “Can we change the subject? I don’t want to talk about them.”

“Sure, we can do that,” he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have a topic we can discuss.”

“What’s that?”

“The topic we were having in the car earlier before we arrived at the restaurant.”

Buffy swallowed hard. “Oh? Which, uh, topic was that? The one about Spike versus William?”

“No, the one where we were discussing us.”

“Us?” Buffy squeeked.

William nodded and took a step forward, his expression serious and yet tender. He smiled gently at her. “I was going to wait for a while. Wait until you did what you were doing with Doyle and— say, what were you doing? I mean one minute you’re with him and the next you’re not. What happened?”

Buffy sighed heavily and shook her head. “It’s kind of a mess.”

“Care to share?”

“Just…stuff,” she murmured vaguely.

“So, that’s a no then?” he asked, smirking.

Buffy smiled small and breezed past him, settling down on her couch. She looked up at him standing before her. “Remember when Cecily came to visit me at work?”

“How could I forget?” he asked, making a face.

“Well, Doyle had come to visit me as I was meeting with my supervisor. Brandon was with Faith having a ‘play date’ and I wanted to get him and talk with you. I told Doyle not to tell Faith what happened when he took me to get him. I didn’t want to get into it with her since she has an opinion on everything under the sun lately, and well, he spilled the beans anyway.”

William frowned and sat down across from her on her coffee table. “Why did he do that? It doesn’t sound like him to go against your wishes like that.”

“I think because it had to do with you.”

“Oh.” William looked down at his hands. “They hate me, huh?”

“Well, no--”

He looked up at her, “Buffy, don’t lie. You’re horrible at it and really, there’s no need to. They do hate me. You know what though?”

“What?”

“I don’t blame them.”

Buffy blinked, “What?”

William grinned at her obvious confusion. “Well, look at it from their perspective for a minute. You’re their friend that they care about—Doyle wants to date you—and then here I come along. I wooed you, made love to you, and then pulled the rug out from under you in one fell swoop with my big lie about being married. Any good friend would think I’m a complete asshole for what I did to you.”

Buffy smirked, “You know, when you put it that way, you are kind of an asshole.”

William laughed, “I can always count on you to be brutally honest with me, pet.”

“In any event, it didn’t give Doyle the right to tell Faith just so they can try to turn me against you.”

Leaning forward, William took her hands in his, startling her. He held them, studied them, and caressed them. “Buffy,” he began softly, “I asked you in the car if you had any idea what you do to me. You don’t know, do you?”

She stared at their joined hands, her mouth suddenly dry. “I—I’m the O-one?”

“Do you know what that means exactly, Buffy?”

“I-I don’t think so.”

“Am I making you nervous again?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you won’t look at me?”

“Yes.”

“Buffy, pet, please, look at me?”

Slowly, Buffy lifted her gaze to his. He smiled at her, calming her slightly.

“I am not going to push you for anything, Buffy,” he told her sincerely. “I am not going to force you into admitting anything or having to make any kind of decision.” He heaved a sigh and she could feel a slight quiver go through him. Seemed he was just as nervous as she was. Good, that evened the scale in her opinion.

“Buffy…I have no right to ask you for anything which is why I’m not going to,” he continued. “I wasn’t going to say anything for a long time; I was just going to let things happen as they will. If you found a real relationship with Doyle, then I wasn’t going to stand in your way, because ultimately, you deserve to be happy. At least in my book you do. And it’s not just because of what I put you through, but because of what you’ve already been through and because of the person you are. You are an amazing person to me. You use a lot of self-deprecating humor, and you make comments at your expense for what you think you deserve, and I just want to shake you sometimes because I don’t think you get that you truly are a good person. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it. Amazing, you’re amazing. You saw things in yourself that you didn’t like and you set about changing them. You try hard every day to be a good person, to be a strong woman and to be a wonderful mother and you succeed wholly. You teach me something everyday.
That night we were together…you changed me then. You don’t even know it and I never let you know it out of pride. I think I fell for you that night.”

Buffy’s breath hitched and her hands trembled in his. He squeezed them, lending her strength even though she could see the fear in his eyes.

“Meeting you put the wheels in motion for me. I admit I was reckless after it all blew up in my face -- as it rightfully should have—but then you came back.” His eyes were so full of…God, they were making her weak. “I don’t deserve you, I know that. I don’t think I will ever deserve you or Brandon, but I’m a selfish man still and now that you’re in my life, and he’s in my life, I’m not letting either of you go. I will take whatever piece of you I can get. I will take whatever you are willing to give me. Buffy…”

“Yes?” she whispered.

“I’m in love with you. I think I have been from the start. Actually, I had a big crush on you in high school.” He smiled sheepishly.

“You did?”

“I did, but then you moved away.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway. I wanted you to know that I love you. I wanted you to know because…because it’s this big thing inside me just itching to get out and I felt you should know that it’s more than just out of duty or obligation that I feel I need to protect you and Brandon from Cecily and her clan. It’s because of what I feel for you, it’s because I can’t bear the thought of anyone doing either of you harm. Like I said, I am not asking for anything, I don’t want to push you into--”

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” And she leaned forward and kissed him.

It wasn’t that she planned on it; it wasn’t that she even knew what it was that she was doing. All she knew is that she had the impulse to kiss him, and so she went with it. His words, his heartfelt words, spoke to something deep inside her that knew…that just knew all this time…

His hands cupped her face now, and he drew her in. She leaned into him as far as she could before sliding off the couch, and when she felt that she was about to explode for the ache of wanting him and finally feeling him as she’d wanted to for so long, she pulled apart.

Panting, she rested her forehead against his. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for that,” he said, panting as well.

She pulled back. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“You wanted to,” he said simply.

“I did.”

“What does that mean, Buffy?”

Taking a deep breath and trying to regain her senses, she shook her head. “I’m…not sure. I don’t know all of what my feelings are for you, William, but…but you’re not completely alone. Can that be enough for now?”

Nodding, William smiled. “That is more than I thought I would ever get, Buffy. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me--”

He shook his head and said firmly. “Thank you.”

Reaching out, she cupped the side of his face with her hand and smiled tenderly. “You’re welcome.”

William was on cloud nine. Sure he hadn’t exactly sealed the deal – as in, Buffy hadn’t said she loved him, but she’d said he wasn’t alone.

“You’re quite chipper this morning,” his mum noted with a knowing look as she helped him set the table for breakfast the following morning.

William smiled. “Am I?”

Anne nodded, “Did something happen with Buffy last night, hmmm?”

“Mum, are you diggin’ for gossip?” William mock reprimanded her.

Anne looked at him in mock innocence. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Don’t think I’m not onto you. You made it quite obvious last night with that hasty departure and with practically dragging Dad out the door.”

Anne chuckled warmly, placing the last few utensils on the table. “I’m sorry, William. I just really like her. She’s a sweet girl. She’s incredibly intelligent and from what I can see, a great mum.”

William beamed, “She really is.”

“And she cares for you a great deal, I can see it.”

“You can?” William asked eagerly, needing reassurance from an outside source, even if his mother was biased.

Anne smiled, “I can.”

“I told her, mum. I told her I loved her.”

“And?”

“She said that while she can’t yet define all her feelings for me, I’m not alone.”

Anne nodded slowly. “It’ll take some time, William. You’ve both been through a lot, not all of which I think was in vain. Much of the strife you’ve been through in regards to Cecily has helped bring you closer I think.” She stood tall and pointed at him. “And now you listen to me, William Giles. You do anything to ruin your chances with that girl and you won’t have Cecily to worry about; you’ll have me. You understand me?”

William smiled, “Yes, mum, I understand. And trust me, if I do anything to ruin my chances with Buffy, you won’t have to worry about taking care of me. I’ll take care of myself.”

“Just keep going as you have, and you’ll be fine. Just no more cheating, William, I mean it. Don’t do that to her and please, don’t do it to your son.”

William shook his head adamantly. “No, mum, I won’t. I can’t. I made a heap of mistakes with Cecily – marrying her just being one of many. I won’t do the same with Buffy. I never loved Cecily the way I love Buffy and I know in my heart I could never hurt her that way. I can’t even conceive of another woman.”

Anne smiled. “Because Buffy is your match. She’s the One.”

“She is, mum, she is.”

“Just remember that. Honesty is the cornerstone of any relationship, William. If you’re not going to be honest with her, if you’re not going to be faithful to her, then you end things. You don’t lead her on. As much as I dislike Cecily, and as much as I believe she abused you in many ways, cheating is not a means to deal with a bad situation. It only makes a bad situation worse.”

William nodded, “I know. I’m learning there are repercussions to my actions. And when I think of, say Buffy cheating on me…” he broke off, shaking his head. “It cuts me like a knife.”

“Remember that feeling.”

William sighed, “And it makes me feel this smidgeon of guilt for Cecily.”

“Sometimes understanding of another’s plight brings sympathy for another. It’s the old adage, my boy. ‘Do unto others as you would like done unto you’.”

“You know what Cecily’s used to be?”

Anne rolled her eyes. “I can just imagine.”

“’Do unto others before they do unto you’.”

Despite herself, Anne burst out laughing. “Oh, dear. That young lady has much to learn. Just make sure you take your lessons, son.”

“I have, mum, I have. There will be no more hurt where Buffy is concerned. Not intentionally anyway. I’m sure I’ll make an arse out of myself at some point where she’s concerned, but never intentionally.”

Anne beamed, “By George, I think he’s got it.”

********


“So you have an interview? That’s great, Will!” Buffy congratulated William a few days later as they strolled through Boston Common with Brandon.

“Yeah, I just gave in to my dad and let him look at my resume. I wanted to do it on my own, but…”

“Well, there’s no shame in asking for help,” Buffy said wisely.

“I guess not, especially since it helped me get a foot in the door.”

“And it’s as assistant editor for Boston magazine?”

William nodded, “Yes.”

“You must be excited, I mean, it’s closer to what you love.”

“It’s closer to you?” William teased, nudging her with his hip, smiling when Buffy blushed.

“I meant for what you went to school for.”

“I know, luv, I’m teasing you.”

Buffy swallowed hard, “Well, do you feel confident about it?”

“I do, in a way. I’m actually sort of nervous. I mean, I’ve never done anything so hands on. Most of the work I’ve done in marketing had a large level of editing attached to it, but that was mostly done by our own editors. I’d like to think my command of the English language, and my rapt attention to detail will help me in acquiring the position.”

Buffy started to laugh. “I’m not actually interviewing you here, Will, but I think you got the spiel down pat. Just add in how your ‘command’ of the English language and ‘rapt attention to detail’ will vastly enhance their magazine and I think you’re all set.”

“That is the plan,” he looked at her sheepishly, “My dad gave me a few tips. He feels since I’ve been out of the ‘real world’ for so long and in the ‘Adams’ world’ instead, he thinks I need to be kept abreast of how the ‘real world’ functions.”

Buffy giggled. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I find it both frustrating and helpful. I feel like I’m being coddled.”

Buffy shrugged, “They’re parents. And you know, say what you want, but they’ve helped you immensely, William. Your entire attitude has changed. You’re not carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You haven’t been since they came. You’re not so concerned about being seen out with me as you were before. They seem to have taken some of that stress from you, given you some hope, and I think it’s great.” She nudged him with her elbow and grinned. “I get to see the lighter side of William.”

Stopping, he forced Buffy to stop as well, and she faced him, one hand on Brandon’s stroller.

“You’ve helped too, you know,” he told her.

She waved a hand at him and he caught it, grasping it in his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “No, luv, you have. You’ve helped too. You’ve been here for me. You could have walked away at any time, but you haven’t. If anything, you’ve stayed closer by my side. You have no idea what that means to me, Buffy.”

“I care,” she said softly, averting her eyes from his intense gaze.

“I know,” he whispered. “And don’t think I’m not aware how much I don’t deserve it-”

“Let’s not dwell on what’s deserved,” she insisted, starting to turn back to pushing Brandon. She liked it much better when they were discussing him.

“You do,” he countered gently. “You dwell on what you think you deserve.”

“Yeah, well, that’s different,” she said abruptly, taking her hand from his grasp.

“Why?”

“Because it’s me!”

“Buffy?”

William and Buffy’s head snapped to find Riley and Sam pushing Junior in his stroller. Buffy was ever thankful for the distraction and greeted them with an enthusiastic and thankful, “Hi!”

“Hi,” Sam greeted her, her eyes straying to William. “Hi, I’m Sam, you are?” she asked and stuck out her hand.

William took it cordially, “William.”

“He’s Brandon’s father,” Buffy piped up. “A—and my friend.” Oh, she wasn’t sure if “friend” was really how to go about describing William. Perhaps she should have just stopped at “Brandon’s father”.

Looking over at the hurt expression on William’s face, she had a feeling “friend” had definitely not been the way to go.

William forced a smile and extended his hand to the couple, fighting the urge to roar his frustration. Friend, she says. Friend Is that all I’ve ever sodding be? I’m Brandon’s father and her sodding friend. I don’t want to just be her friend, dammit!

Sam stared at him, studying him closely and William stared back, daring her to say anything negative about their situation. Unconventional as it was, Buffy and Brandon were still his – even if Buffy wasn’t about to own up to that – and he would defend it.

“So, what are you guys up to?” Sam asked as Riley shook Spike’s hand cordially.

“We were just taking a walk,” Buffy explained. “You?”

Sam smiled, “Same. We were thinking about having some lunch. Have you guys had lunch? Would you like to join us?”

Buffy tossed a nervous glance in William’s direction. “Oh, well, I don’t know if Will has to--”

“I’m completely free,” William chimed in before she could dismiss him. I am not going to be shoved aside. I am not going to be someone to be ashamed of, Buffy Summers.

Buffy nodded, “Okay, well, he’s free. We’re free.”

The foursome set off, heading toward an exit to the park and William draped an arm around Buffy’s shoulder, a silent statement that he wasn’t going anywhere and wasn’t about to shooed off.

********

Buffy felt bad. Guilty. An emotion she didn’t take kindly to. It made her not only angry at herself, but at William too. Why didn’t he just yell at her or something? Why was he making nice with her new friends and doting on her like a devoted lover? His eyes though, his eyes when they fell upon her spoke upon a different story altogether. His eyes told her that she was going to get it later.

Bring it on, she challenged him in her mind. What the hell did he expect? Sure he told her how he felt, but what did he think? She was just going to fall in his arms and start touting him as her boyfriend? He wasn’t, plain and simple. The fact was she hadn’t even committed to anything because she was not yet sorted on it all. Was she not allowed her doubts and worries still?

If they’ll do it with you, they’ll do it to you, her mind reminded her, sounding very much like her mother. Buffy rolled her eyes. Okay, so it wasn’t that she did it with him, in order for that to have happened, there would have had to have been some knowledge of Cecily. She’d been in the dark. Completely. So, for that reason, she couldn’t fight off the feeling that what had happened had been done to her.

What happened to forgive and forget? her mind argued, that voice sounding very much like her. I might forgive, but I will never forget and maybe I haven’t really forgiven yet. Maybe. Or maybe I just say that because my heart is on the line here and he’s already broke it once…

Looking over at him, she found him watching her intently. Their eyes met for a brief minute and she looked away, shying away from sinking into the depth of emotion swimming in his eyes.

“So, how did you and Buffy meet, William?” Sam asked, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Buffy opened her mouth to answer, but William beat her to the chase. “We met at a club,” he told her, feeling Buffy kick him warningly under the table. He grinned at her innocently. “She was the prettiest girl there.”

Buffy smiled weakly at him and turned to face her friends. “We’d actually known each other for years and had lost touch for a while. We reconnected that night and we talked. We talked all night long.”

William nodded, “All night long. She kept me stimulated for hours.”

That earned a kick to the shins and William fought not to let it show.

“Forgive my being nosy, but if you’re Brandon’s father, then there must have been more going on than talking,” Sam inferred, leaning forward, her elbow on the table and her chin resting in the palm of her hand.

“Sam, really,” Riley admonished, “That’s none of our business.”

“But they’re just so cute together! I’m not sure what happened, but I can’t see why they’re not together. Or, are you and its still all new and don’t want to define it?”

“Something like that,” Buffy muttered.

“Our relationship is unconventional, Sam,” Spike said slowly. “It’s hard to define, but it makes it a lot easier to define when one isn’t running away from it.”

“Funny,” Buffy said sarcastically, her temper flaring. Slapping her leg in faux humor, she turned to William. “You know what else makes it easier to define? When one isn’t still married,” she said pointedly and then turned to find Riley’s mouth hanging open and Sam looked somewhere between shocked and amused. Shit, she thought.

“So, you two have an interesting story as to how you got together too, huh?” Riley observed dryly.

“What?” Buffy said, knitting her brows together.

Sam laughed breezily and swatted her husband on his arm. “Riley and I met much in the same way. At a club. Though we didn’t have stimulating, uh, conversation all night long. We had sex.”

Buffy nearly choked on her Coke, and William, ever the gentleman, gently patted her back.

Sam continued on, oblivious. “It was a really great night,” she said fondly and looked over at Riley, smiling from ear to ear and looking very much a woman in love. “The kicker of it was,” she said, turning back to William and Buffy, “was that we were both in relationships.”

Buffy’s eyes bugged and William leaned forward. “Really?” he inquired, utterly enthralled. “What happened?”

“Well, we fell in love that night. Sure, it was supposed to be a one-night thing, but it turned out to be so much more than that. In between all that great sex was some really great talking.” She giggled, “So I guess there was stimulating conversation as well.” Taking a breath, she shrugged, “We did what we had to do.”

“Which was?” Buffy whispered, feeling the image she’d had of the perfect couple start to perfectly crumble around her.

“We broke it off with our significant others,” Sam said simply. “It took me a bit longer to do it, but I finally did. From then on, we’ve never been apart. We’ve been together – how long now, babe?”

“About three years.”

“Three years?” Buffy squeaked.

Sam nodded. “And two years of wedded bliss.”

“I—I—can I ask a question?” Buffy spoke up in a daze.

“Sure!” Sam chirped.

“H-have you e-ever heard the saying ‘if they’ll do it with you, they’ll do it to you’?”

“Buffy, Christ,” William hissed.

“Shut up,” she snapped at him and he held up his hands, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Well,” Riley began, “Do you believe in love at first sight, Buffy? Do you believe in true love?”

Buffy nodded slowly. “I do,” she said weakly. “But… true love is pure and, well, isn’t true for the pure?”

Reaching across the table, Sam put her hand over Buffy’s. “Honey, there isn’t a perfect formula to where you find it. There isn’t a perfect time, place, rhyme or reason to it, it’s just there. You can’t predict when it’ll happen and you can’t pick who it’ll happen with. Before Riley, I had always been a wild girl. I partied hard and went through men like water.”

“Honey,” Riley admonished her once again, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

“I never thought – and I certainly didn’t want -- to fall in love,” Sam went on. Looking at Riley, she smiled. “And then I met Ri, and that all changed. And Ri, well, he was a good boy. Like a freaking choir boy. He’d had two serious girlfriends and only had sex with them.”

“Sam, honestly--”

“It’s okay, babe,” Sam said quickly. “My point is he never did something like that. He never would have conceived of it. But he met me, and he felt something for me. We knew it was special and couldn’t turn away from it.”

“Why did it take you longer to do it then?” Buffy asked softly.

“Cause I was afraid of what it meant. I was afraid that it was a fluke, but it wasn’t. It was real, and Riley didn’t give up on me.”

Rubbing her forehead with her fingertips, Buffy nearly whined, “I need some air.”

“You feeling all right, luv?” William asked softly, stroking her back.

She nodded slowly, “Yeah, I’m all right.”

“Why don’t you go out and get some air, hon,” Sam offered, “William will go with you, Riley and I got the bill and Brandon. It’s okay, really, go.”

Buffy nodded and slid out of her chair, heading for the door to the little diner. William’s hand fell on the small of her back and once outside, Buffy took a great big breath, leaning against the front of the diner.

“What happened, luv, hmmm?” William asked, standing before her and pushing some hair from her face.

“Why are you being so nice to me now? In there you seemed to want to throttle me.”

He grinned, “Oh, I still want to throttle you, but it can wait. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“I just realized that all my notions and notions on love, purity and truth don’t really have any glue that holds them together. Sam and Riley seem like the perfect couple; they don’t seem like the kind of couple that…that…”

“That got together much in the same way we have?”

“We’re not together, but yes. I always say that there are lots of gray in the world, but I never really live in the gray because I want so desperately for there to be black and white. Gray makes things difficult. Black and white is final and there’s no room for debate. It just is. The grays can be tricky, and I look at Sam and Riley and I think – I thought—they were black and white. Like Willow and Oz. She’s a good girl, he seems like a good boy ergo good girl and good boy get together and everything is perfect.”

“Not always the case, luv. Nothing is ever perfect. Nothing is ever as it really seems. I got the impression as well from Sam and Riley that there were the cookie cutter version of boy meets girl, but they’re not. They have a story, an unconventional sort of story. Do they seem unhappy to you? Buffy, maybe the way they got together was imperfect from those notions you have in your head, but they’re not imperfect for one another. You’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see they adore one another.”

Buffy nodded, “They do. I see it. I just thought that…”

“You thought that because of how we met, of how we conceived Brandon and continued our relationship isn’t something that can work, and isn’t something that is real and pure. And don’t tell me we don’t have a relationship – a friendship is a relationship. Buffy, you told me once before that you wanted to believe that with all the lying, backstabbing and treachery in the world there were pure souls that had a fighting chance. What’s to say we’re not those pure souls that stumbled and fell a few times before getting it right? What’s to say we’re not good people? What’s to say that we don’t deserve love, the kind of love you read about, and the kind of love that you teach in those novels of yours? You keep thinking that kind of love is for other people, but not you, not me, not us. Buffy, I thought I loved Cecily, but I didn’t. Not the way I love you. I did some rotten things to her, to me, to you, to myself…and I’m sorry for them all. A part of me even feels sorry for her despite of all the things she’s done to us.”

“You do?”

“I do,” he said nodding. “Because I gave into what she wanted and she wanted me. I became her trophy husband to go along with everything else that was just handed to her. And when I didn’t want it anymore, I cheated on her. Sure, she’s a bitch, sure she was a horrible wife, but I should have just gotten out instead of doing what I did. I made my bed, and I lied in it for a long time. And now I’m currently trying to get out of it. I don’t feel worthy of you, Buffy, and I don’t feel worthy of what we could have, but I’m not going to give up on it. I can’t. I love you too much, I love Brandon too much and I want this new life too much. I’m not going to waste my time thinking I can’t have what’s meant for others. I’m going to take it, I’m going to cherish it, and I’m never going to let it go.”

Straightening, Buffy stood tall and faced William head on. “Do you think we could…date?”

He blinked, “You want to date?”

“Yes. I have my reservations still, William, and sure our relationship isn’t conventional, but there’s no reason why we can’t do some things conventionally, is there?”

William smiled slowly and broadly. “I reckon there isn’t a reason why we can’t. I suppose there are a lot of things to learn about one another still. We’ve gone through a lot of changes over the past few months, yeah?”

“So… do you want to get together tomorrow night? I could ask Willow do babysit.”

“How about we ask my parents instead? Brandon has two grandparents that are chomping at the bit to get to know him.”

Buffy smiled, “Okay,” and she held out her hand to shake on it.

Chuckling, William shook his head and instead tugged her in his arms. “Let’s seal that with a kiss,” he said huskily and covered her lips with his, making her toes curl.

Buffy hummed to herself as she pulled her hair back in the fancy silver clips she’d bought for her date with William that night. She was hoping her humming would chase away her nerves even as they settled in the pit of her stomach.

He’d told her to dress nice, in a dress preferably and so she’d gone shopping with a giddy Willow – at least someone was excited for her! – and bought herself a new dress. She purchased a red dress with a plunging neckline, the dress came to her knees and swished when she walked. Willow let her borrow a simple string of pearls to wrap around her neck and matching pearl earrings that were so small she had to strain to see them. On her feet she wore a pair of black stiletto’s, making her look glamorous and as Willow swore, making her feet look sexy. Buffy wasn’t sure about that, but she’d take it.

Currently, Willow was in the next room spending time with her nephew and Oz was on his way.

Dabbing perfume in all those secret spots – behind her ears, between her breasts, behind her knees, and on her wrists, Buffy twirled before the mirror and smiled, her muted red lipstick stretching across her teeth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn lipstick, or dressed up in such a manner. Tonight had an entirely different feel then the night she’d gone out with Doyle.

Buffy frowned; she missed her best friend. Faith, not so much, but Doyle…she really did miss him. And if she thought that he’d understand or could find it in him to at least be somewhat supportive, she’d probably try to call.

I can’t not talk to him forever, she thought, grabbing her satin red and black purse and red shawl from the bed. I just don’t want to hurt him and I don’t want to argue. I wonder if we can agree in this case, to disagree. I guess I won’t know if I don’t try.

“So, Wills, you know the drill, right?” Buffy asked, coming into the living room and stopping dead. “Doyle. I was just thinking of you.”

He straightened upon looking at her, drinking her in, his lips pursing. “Date?”

Buffy didn’t like the tone, the hard edge she found in it, but she forced herself to act normal. “Yes, a date. What um, what brings you by?”

“It’s been almost a month, Buffy. I figured if we’re at least best friends, then best friends don’t let too much time pass before they see each other and patch things up, right?”

“Right. I was just thinking of calling you.”

“Obviously not tonight though,” he gestured at her. “Who’s the lucky man?”

“Oh, well…”

And just as though she were in a movie or book, the doorbell rang. Buffy gulped and Willow looked at the pair of them like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Excuse me,” Buffy murmured and went to the door. She was praying it was Oz on the other end, but her luck wasn’t that great. She didn’t have luck at all really.

William stood there, in a navy suit and tie, a crisp white shirt underneath, his hair tousled slightly and a big grin on his handsome face. Buffy breathed slowly through her teeth. “Hi,” she greeted him shyly, her pulse accelerating. Damn, but he was hot.

“Buffy,” he breathed, gaping at her. “You’re…pet, you look absolutely divine.”

Buffy smiled broadly and stepped back, smiling coyly at him. “Come in.”

For a brief minute she forgot about Doyle as she was unable to tear her eyes away from the hunk of man before her, and it was like a cold bucket of water on her when she was reacquainted with his presence.

“I see,” Doyle muttered, looking down.

William shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. “Am I—did I come at a bad time?”

“No, you didn’t,” Buffy explained, thankful that he didn’t pull a jealousy act and instead had the grace to act as though he were the odd man out. “Doyle surprised me. I didn’t know he was here until I was done getting ready. And then you just arrived…” she trailed off, not sure what to do, what to say.

“William, it’s so good to see you again!” Willow chimed in, a bit too cheery, though it certainly seemed to be the knife in the sudden tension in the room.

William smiled at her, “Hello, Willow. How are you? And is that my little guy over there?” He grinned giddily and made his way over to Brandon who was gurgling and amusing himself with a rattle on his favorite Pooh blanket on the floor, trying to currently stick his whole fist in his mouth.

Buffy took Doyle’s arm, thanking William and Willow silently for that reprieve and tugged her old friend into the hallway. Wrapping her arms around herself, she bit her lip and looked up at Doyle almost apologetically.

“Doyle, I--”

“Has it been going on long?” Doyle asked, cutting her off.

Buffy shook her head. “No. This is our first date.”

He looked her up and down. “I take it it’s not a carnival.”

“This isn’t a competition,” Buffy blurted out.

“Right, cause in order for that to happen, I’d have to be a contender right? And you pretty much already decided I wasn’t one.”

“Doyle, please, I don’t want this to come between us, and you promised that it wouldn’t--”

“Yeah, I know I did. But when I did, I didn’t know it’d hurt this much.”

“Doyle, I’m sorry, please--” and she placed her hand on his arm, trying to offer him some kind of comfort.

He shrugged her off gently. “Not right now, Buffy. I gotta go before I make a scene and you have …yeah, you have…” and he shook his head and stalked off. A minute later, the door shut and Buffy felt like crying.

“Buffy?”

Looking up, Buffy found Willow standing there, concerned. “You okay?”

“I—I just feel really bad, Wills,” and she waved her hand over her face, trying to ward off the tears so as to not smudge her makeup.

Willow grabbed her flailing hand and looked at Buffy sternly. “Don’t feel bad. You can’t make yourself have feelings for him and you couldn’t have known he was going to come over unannounced. Go out with William tonight and have a good time. Forget about Doyle for right now and just focus on having the night out that you deserve. Tomorrow you can call him and work things out, okay? Don’t feel guilty, Buffy. Don’t feel guilty for not being in the same place as he was. You tried.”

“I did, I did try,” Buffy said, trying to console herself.

“And really, you shouldn’t always have to try to feel something for someone. If it’s not there, then you can’t force it, right?”

“Right,” Buffy said nodding, with more conviction.

“And you feel something for William, don’t you?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “That sounded like you were digging, Rosenberg.”

Willow giggled. “Maybe a skotch.”

Buffy shook her head, “You’re something else.” Then, looking at her friend solemnly, she thanked her. “You’re the only one that’s gotten how I feel about William. You’re the only one that’s supported me in that.”

Willow smiled, “I guess because I’m so damn intuitive, I can see what he does for you when he’s not being a jackass. And, as I’ve been learning, men can be jackasses often.”

Buffy laughed, “Tell me about it!”

“Come on, your Prince awaits,” Willow said ushering her out of the hallway.

Coming back into the living room, Buffy smiled when she found William on his knees on the floor, cooing at Brandon.

Willow nudged her in the ribs gently. “He’s a keeper,” she whispered.

Buffy smiled, thinking Jury’s still out. If we can get through at least one evening without major upheavals, we’ll be at least on the right track.

Noticing that Buffy was back, William pressed a kiss to Brandon’s forehead before standing and straightening himself out. “Sorry.”

Buffy shook her head. “Don’t ever be sorry for spending time with your son.”

William smiled and gave her a once over, his expression turning to one of awe. “Just gorgeous, luv,” he whispered.

“And you look quite handsome, William,” she told him, smiling flirtatiously.

“Shall we?” William asked, gesturing to the door.

“We shall,” Buffy agreed.

Saying their goodbye’s to Willow and Brandon, Buffy and William made their way out together. Once in the hallway, William spun Buffy into his arms, growling softly. “May I kiss you, kitten?”

She smiled, liking that he asked. Deciding to play her card as the woman in charge of what was allowed in regards to how far she’d allow him to go, she replied. “Yes, just one for now.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and he swooped in, kissing her possessively. Taking her hand, he led her to the elevator, chuckling when she started to giggle giddily.

“So, pet, what was that all about with Doyle? If you don’t mind my asking,” William asked later as they drove to the Italian restaurant he’d made reservations at. He wanted this night to be perfect, wanted to show Buffy what she meant to him and treat her like the lady he though her to be. He knew she still held reservations about her lady status, but to him, she was that and more. She was an intelligent woman that put him in his place, cut through the bullshit and fought by his side without even realizing it half the time and, she was the mother of his beautiful son, and a wonderful mother at that. Coupled with the fact that she was sexy as hell and a giving lover, William knew if he was given the gift of her love, he would be a blessed man.

Now, he just had to convince her of that.

Buffy sighed and stared out the window, “Oh, well, he just popped in. Surprise visit. I haven’t talked with him in quite some time and he wanted to try and repair things.”

“That was noble of him,” William said slowly, not sure how to proceed where Doyle was concerned. He knew things had been strained between the pair for quite some time, and beyond that, he just didn’t know.

“He knows that I don’t feel the way he wants me to feel for him and even though one date might not constitute really trying, I just don’t want to keep trying.”

“I see,” William said, feeling some hope begin to dawn.

“He has been one of my best friends for a long time and I care about him a lot, but I just don’t feel that for him. And you know? I really shouldn’t be discussing this with you.”

“No, please--”

“No, I really shouldn’t. I mean with things between us and how things were and the whole thing…It’s not…what’s the word? Tactful of me.”

“It helps to figure out where I stand in all this though. Where you’re at with him and how I fit in…”

“You know where you fit in William,” Buffy muttered.

“Well, yes and no. I mean, I never knew how things were Doyle were going. Mostly because I didn’t want to ask, and I know that you had a falling out with him…You’re right, this isn’t really my business.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I like that you can talk to me, or at least follow the instinct to. I can see how maybe this is a touchy subject though.”

“So,” Buffy said on a sigh, signaling William that she was about to change the subject, “Where are your parents tonight?”

“They are wooing my attorney’s,” William told her, turning into their dinner destination, Il Forno’s.

“Wow,” Buffy breathed, staring out the window.

William couldn’t help but preen at her appraisal of the place. He was hoping to impress her and from the look on her face, he’d succeeded, even more so when he pulled into the valet area and ran around the car to let her out.

She slid her hand in his and looked up at him in wonder. He was surprised to find that she was blushing. He’d made her blush.

“Does mi’lady approve?” he purred, tucking her arm through his and leading her to the door.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted to come here…”

“I’m glad I could fulfill that wish for you,” he whispered in her ear, brushing a kiss across her temple.

“Will, this is too much--”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, leading her into the lobby.

“William--”

“Hush,” he said softly and turned to her. “I wanted to take you out and treat you like a Princess so that’s what I’m doing. All I want you to do is relax and enjoy yourself.”

She smiled, “Okay, I can do that. Thank you.”

“Thank me later.”

A brow rose and he chuckled inwardly. “Oh?” she said suspiciously.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he admonished her teasingly. “You can thank me by a kiss if you feel so inclined later.”

She smiled flirtatiously. “If I feel so inclined.”

William chuckled. “I do love you girl.” And before she could reply to the negative or the positive of that comment, he led her off to the hostess. Operation Treat Buffy like a Princess was underway.

*********

“So, you started to tell me in the car about your parents wooing your attorney’s?” Buffy asked later as they sipped their Merlot and waited for their salads to arrive.

William rolled his eyes. “Yes, that. My father seems to think if he takes them out for dinner and they have a grand ol’ time that will make them magically be able to force Cecily’s attorney to sign the divorce papers.”

“It’s not a bad ploy, I see where he’s coming from,” Buffy said thoughtfully, “but I have to agree with you, I don’t see it happening.”

“Neither do I.”

“Cecily is someone that will dig in her heels until she is forced by an act of God to sign those papers. Or perhaps forced by her father’s hand.”

“You got it,” William said, “And her father is even more stubborn than she is, believe it or not.”

“Well, perhaps over their dinner, they will brainstorm an idea that will make them a little less stubborn and a little more compliable.” Raising her glass, she continued, “Here’s to scheming lawyers in our favor.”

William grinned and clinked her glass with his own, deciding to comment on the ‘our’ in her statement, even if his divorce did affect her greatly, mostly in part due to Brandon’s safety. He liked to think that her use of ‘our’ meant for them as well. It gave him hope. Besides, she had been right there by his side through most of the trial and tribulations of his separation, so he knew that she did care, she admitted to that much at least. It was just a question of how much…

“Oh my God,” Buffy whispered, staring over his shoulder across the room.

William froze. “What is it?” Was Cecily there? God, that was the last thing they needed.

“It’s Faith,” she replied on a murmur, still not looking at him.

Turning slightly, William peered across the room at the brunette he assumed was the ever popular Faith. She was on the arm of a man that was pulling a chair out for her. “That her?” William asked, “The one sitting down?”

“Yeah, and that’s not Robin.”

“That’s her boyfriend right?”

Buffy nodded slowly, staring still. “And the father of her child.”

William studied Buffy’s sudden pale and ashen expression. “Pet, maybe it’s innocent.”

“He’s kissing her hand!” she nearly exclaimed, earning some stares from tables around them. Now she blushed and ducked her head. “Sorry.”

“Do you want to go over there?”

“No,” she shook her head emphatically. “Though this is perfect, just perfect. You know that bitch tried to make me feel guilty for not being able to let go of you, for still wanting you. She got all high and mighty on me, was all about me making a clean break and making changes in my life, in which she made it clear that you were not to be part of that change and look at her – what has she changed? Oh, she can talk a good game can’t she, but she has no follow through, not for long anyway!”

William stared at her. She was not only glorious in her anger, but she’d made a few comments concerning him and her feelings toward him that he wanted to get to, however, he also knew that now was not the time to focus on that and perhaps if they left to go someplace else…

“Buffy, do you want to leave?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I’m not leaving. I have nothing to be ashamed of. She does. As far as I’m concerned William Giles, you and I might just be the only normal people left on this planet, and considering all we’ve been through, that’s saying a lot!”

William smiled slowly, broadly. “Wow. Never have I wanted to kiss you more than I do right now.”

Buffy giggled. “Well, you just might get your wish.” Taking a sip of her wine, she grinned and winked. “Later.”

Buffy couldn’t stop laughing. Who knew underneath all that seriousness and ‘The world is out to get me’, William had such a great sense of humor? And one that fit hers so perfectly? She was having a fantastic time on their date, feeling once again that sense of William starting to relax in his own skin. He’d made her laugh so hard that she’d even forgotten about Faith.

They’d run the gamut of sharing childhood stories, to most embarrassing moment stories to movies seen and books read. William was a smart man and Buffy found she was sorry that all his knowledge had been wasted on the Adams Empire for so long.

“You’re going to do great at Boston magazine, Will,” she told him over coffee after dinner.

“Am I?” he asked, grinning and puffing his chest a bit.

“You are. You’re very intelligent and have a charming and commanding personality.”

“I don’t know about commanding,” William muttered, sipping his coffee.

“Oh, I do,” Buffy chuckled. “You can be quite persuasive and commanding when you want something.”

“You should know, huh? Considering how I want you,” he told her boldly, his eyes sparkling.

Buffy blushed and wagged a finger at him. “Now, now, none of that.”

“Couldn’t resist. I think the wine loosened my tongue a bit…and the fact that I enjoy your company and feel so comfortable with you. You know Buffy; I hadn’t been myself in so long I forgot what being myself was like. You’ve helped me get back to that.”

“I’m glad I could do that for you.”

“And I like making you blush.”

She blushed again, and looked away, shaking her head at her foolishness. “It’s amazing to me that I actually have that ability. I figured with my past…” she shook her head, deciding not to dwell on that. Not tonight. “Not to mention giving birth. I figured after that, I would never have any modesty again.”

He looked down for a minute and Buffy thought perhaps she’d made a wrong move. After all, he hadn’t been allowed in for the birth of his son.

Just as she was about to apologize, his head popped up, and he was smiling softly. “And yet you do have the ability to blush still.”

Buffy smiled back, “Must be you. You bring it out in me.”

That seemed to cheer him considerably. “Well, I’m glad I can have that affect on you.”

They sat there, smiling at one another for a moment.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, William,” she told him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, luv. Date’s not over until I bring you home.”

“Ah, yes, my bad. “

While they waited for the return of William’s credit card, Buffy asked him when he thought his parents might want to see Brandon.

“Can you bring him by tomorrow? I’ll take you out to lunch,” William told her, shoving his card in his wallet.

“I get another date already. You like me, you really like me,” Buffy teased and William laughed.

“Yeah, Buffy, he told her, I really like you.”

Buffy stood, smiling from ear to ear, suddenly feeling on display.

William stood and offered his arm, tucking his wallet in his back pocket with his other hand.

“Can we make a detour?” Buffy asked as he escorted her from the table.

William started to head in the direction of Faith. “What are you going to do, Buffy?”

“Just say ‘hi’, that’s all.”

Plastering a sweet smile on her face, Buffy swept by Faith’s table and waved to her ‘friend’. “Hello, Faith.”

Faith paled and her mouth dropped at the sight, but Buffy kept moving. She didn’t care to stop, didn’t care to know who the new guy was. All she wanted to do was let Faith know that she saw her and that made sure that she was seen. With William. Her date. Possibly one day soon, her boyfriend.

********

Once they arrived at Buffy’s apartment, William continued to be a perfect gentleman, opening the car door for her, the door to her apartment building and always offering his arm for her to latch on to. He was quickly becoming someone she wanted to latch on to and not let go. She wanted to throw caution to the wind and just go for it, but honestly at that point in time; she was enjoying how they were. She liked the dating and the getting to know one another. There was no full bloom relationship though there was the promise of one. It wasn’t in her to lead him on, but she wanted to take her time, make sure this was good for her and for him. Granted he said he loved her, but he was still, well, like Brandon. He was a man with experience and yet, he was a man that was just recently thrust into the world, the “real world” and he was still getting his sea legs in it.

It was amazing; she had to admit, to watch. William’s metamorphosis from “Spike” the rebellious kept man, to William, the wondrous little boy that just wanted to make things right with undertones of “Spike” hidden underneath. Buffy didn’t want to impede his progress, she wanted to watch him grow; see him gain some ground and confidence in himself once more. And for that matter, she was doing the same. She was gaining her sea legs in what it meant to go on a date and be wooed. As Brandon grew, so were his parents.

So, now, at her apartment with a blushing Willow and self assured, if not eerily quiet Oz, Buffy bid them good night and thank you and asked William if he wanted to see his son before he left. Granted Brandon was sleeping, but still, she figured she could put the offer there and then hopefully he’d do that while she figured out how to kiss him goodnight. At first she was going to allow him to kiss her and make it short and sweet, but feeling on a high from the evening they’d shared, and how he made her feel like a Princess, as promised, she wanted to blow his mind. Without sex. Go figure.

So while William bent over Brandon’s crib and kissed his son softly on the forehead with promises to see him the following day, Buffy had a plan.

As soon as they were outside Brandon’s door and it was shut, William headed to the living room and Buffy grabbed his arm, tugged him to her, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. His hands stayed respectively on her waist, though when he pulled her closer to him, she could feel his erection straining in his pants. It didn’t disgust her or anger her. It pleased her.

“Good night,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his and dropping her hands from his face. “Thank you. I had a great time.”

“You’re welcome,” he gasped, panting for air.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and broke away from him completely, smiling.

He grinned. “Tomorrow.”

“After all, tomorrow is another day.”

“Walk me to the door?”

Nodding, she moved around him and he followed her down the hall. Part of her wanted him to grab her, spin her in his arms and kiss her breathless once more, and yet another part of her just reveled in the idea of it, and wouldn’t in the actual action of it.

William seemed to get that and didn’t make one more move as he walked out the door, turned to her and waved, grinning.

Shutting the door, Buffy leaned against it and giggled like a schoolgirl with a crush.