Sixteenth Mama may have. . .
Mothers are not simply models of femininity to their daughters but also examples of how a woman reacts to a man. Daughters learn about fathers, and men, not only by being with Dad but also by observing their parents’ marital relationship—or its unraveling.
Victoria Secunda
Mothers who have little sense of their own minds and voices are unable to imagine such capacities in their children.
Mary Field Belenky, Blythe Mcvicker Clinchy, Nancy Rule Goldberger, and Jill Mattuck Tarule, Women’s Ways of Knowing.
Joyce held onto the registered letter for two days before she thought about opening it. Nothing good ever came from a registered letter and she knew this one wasn’t going to be any different. It sat on her dresser, and every time she walked passed it, she thought about opening it, but changed her mind. She was too busy getting ready for Christmas to deal with it anyway.
Once more standing at her dresser, Joyce knew she was really just avoiding the issue. The letter and its contents weren’t going away anytime soon. She didn’t want to read whatever was contained in that letter. Determined to ignore it yet again, Joyce resolutely walked away and grabbed the rest of the Christmas decorations. The holiday was a week away, time the house looked like it. Maybe now Buffy will stop moping around.
He’d called every single night while he was gone and they’d talked for hours. It was easier, because she could say anything and not have to worry about him watching her and harder because she wished that it was like she kept imagining. That they were curled up together on his bed, his arms around her and her head on his chest, his voice reverberating under her ear.
But they were coming back today, sometime around three and he wanted to see her tonight. Needed to see her or so he said. So Buffy was taking extra care getting ready for school, her mind so focused on Will that she didn’t hear her mother’s knock on the bedroom door.
She jumped when her mother’s voice sounded from her bedroom doorway. “Buffy you want to explain this letter?”
Turning confused and startled eyes toward her, Buffy shrugged. “What letter? What’re you talking about?”
“This letter that came from the Finn’s attorney.” Joyce held it out so that Buffy felt compelled to take it.
“I didn’t know you got a letter from them.”
Joyce’s voice, when she finally spoke, was flat and emotionless. “When were you going to tell me they offered you seventy-five thousand dollars to sign away Riley’s rights?”
“I dunno.” Buffy shrugged again, not wanting to get into it with her mother first thing in the morning. “Do we have to talk about this now? Can it wait until later?”
“No Buffy, it can’t.” Joyce folded her arms across her chest, watching her daughter intently. “When were you going to tell me?”
Buffy shrugged once more, unwilling to admit that she probably wouldn’t have ever told her about their offer. She dropped the letter on her bed, not wanting to touch it anymore.
“That’s an awful lot of money. Not something you say no to on your own.” Joyce was upset, not only because Buffy had refused their offer, but also because she hadn’t even told her about it.
Buffy was trying to control her temper, but it wasn’t proving easy. “These are the same people who wanted me to have an abortion, Mom. Not much with the trust and good feelings.” She moved away from her closet. “Besides, its my decision anyway.”
“No, its not just your decision. I’m your mother. I have a right to know about all this.” Joyce picked up the letter, waving it around for emphasis. “You can’t make this kind of decision on your own. You aren’t an adult yet.”
Temper flaring, Buffy turned around to face her mother. “I’m an adult Mom. Adult enough to make decisions, hard ones about my future and do what’s best for me and the baby. And seventy-five thousand isn’t enough. Sorry if you don’t like it.”
Joyce got huffy, once more waving the letter at her daughter. “Did you read this? It isn’t seventy five thousand anymore. Maybe you should rethink your decision.”
With that Joyce left the room, slamming Buffy’s door behind her.
Aside from being without her for three days, the trip to Los Angeles wasn’t so bad. It had given him a chance to talk to both Sara and her boyfriend Malcolm, and to spend time thinking about his relationship with Buffy. He was grateful too, that he’d agreed with Sara’s little plan, because he was able to spend hours each night talking to her, and, although he had to resort to taking care of business after, it wasn’t something so unusual. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to wank so much – it had at least been since he was a teenager – but even then Drusilla had been around.
He hadn’t expected any more from Buffy than she was willing to give and he had a feeling that she wasn’t really ready for them to have sex. Aside from her not being ready, it was impossible for them to meet anywhere but the cemetery. They couldn’t risk being seen in public, couldn’t risk her being seen going in and out of his house, unless in a group and he couldn’t go to hers. It would have been all together different if Buffy drove – but she didn’t. He was going to have to change that soon, because the winter, such as it existed in Southern California, was just starting and while not quite as cold as other places, it did get chilly at night and it rained a lot, since they were on the coast.
The bus ride back to Sunnydale was interminable, the two hour drive turning into a disaster, from the moment they boarded. Traffic was backed-up from the minute they’d left the hotel and now, an hour and a half into the drive everyone was restless, grumbling and complaining about the lack of movement. Will was sitting in the front, trying to read, when the sound of raised voices reached his ears. Not recognizing any of the voices involved, Will put down the paperback and reluctantly got to his feet to settle the situation.
Making his way back to the area where the raised voices were coming from he was surprised enough to stop dead in his tracks. Willow was almost standing on her seat, face flushed and bright spots of anger on her pale skin, mouth moving and venomous words tripping from her tongue. She was faced off against Riley and Harmony, who were two seats behind the redhead, Harmony on her feet in the aisle while Riley was sitting with his back against the window. The teens were surrounded by a group of others, most of them stunned to silence by the normally quiet Willow ripping Harmony and Riley apart.
Willow paused to take a deep breath, her hands fluttering about in her agitated state and that was when he realized he had an opportunity to stop this. “All right. What’s going on back here?”
Wary eyes turned to him as the students began to register his presence. Enraged dark green eyes met his and Willow spluttered something that vaguely resembled English, trying to explain what was happening. Will raised his hand, cutting her off. “I’m not sure I need to know the exact particulars, Miss Rosenberg, I can pretty well imagine what was going on.”
“How can you be so nice to her, she was saying all sorts of mean and nasty things.” Harmony flounced back into her seat, which happened to be Riley’s lap, giving him what she thought was an adorable pout.
“Miss Kendall? Park your butt in your own seat, not on Mr. Finn’s lap. And those tactics don’t work with me.” Riley muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like an insult to Will, and in response, Will raised an eyebrow. “Care to share your opinion with the rest of us, Mr. Finn?”
When Riley remained quiet, Will nodded, saying, “I didn’t think so. Detention, tomorrow, for everyone. Next one to raise their voice will get suspended.” He waited patiently, looking pointedly at Riley, almost daring him to speak, but the teen remained stubbornly silent.
Leaving the teens where they were Will headed back to his seat.
Her mother was sitting at the dining room table when Buffy came in the door, the hated letter on the table in front of her. Joyce had been staring at it for more than a few minutes, trying to formulate arguments to persuade Buffy to see reason where this offer was concerned. One hundred thousand dollars would go a long way to making sure both Buffy and the baby had everything they needed. It would certainly help her situation enormously.
Never once questioning the motivations behind the gesture, Joyce merely took it at face value. To her it was simple. The money was enough to make up for the lack of a father.
Buffy took one look at her mother sitting at the dining room table and knew she’d been stewing about it all afternoon. Trying to head off the coming storm, Buffy spoke first. “No work today?”
“No. I took the day off to recuperate and get things done around here.” Joyce motioned to the chair opposite her. “Sit down so we can talk.”
“Mom. I really don’t want to do this.” Buffy made a face, shifting from one foot to the other, reluctant to sit with her.
Joyce sat back in her chair, watching her daughter squirm. “No, I really think we need to talk about this now.”
Buffy hesitated, torn between wanting to get this over with and wanting to avoid it altogether. Resignation washed over her when she caught a glimpse of the determination on Joyce’s face. “All right Mom. Lemme hit the bathroom first, okay, then we’ll talk.”
Nodding her head, Joyce watched her daughter go, her thoughts focused on marshaling her arguments. The teen was back quickly, prepared to face whatever arguments Joyce could come up with to talk her out of refusing the money.
Drawing in a deep breath, the older Summers woman began speaking. “Buffy this is a lot of money, money that neither your father nor I have immediate access to. This money could support you and the baby.” She paused, holding up her hand to forestall Buffy’s impending interruption. “Yeah, I could get some of that money, and I’m sure your father has plenty of money that he’s not sharing with either of us, but that isn’t the point. The point is the Finns are offering and I believe the smart thing to do would be to accept.”
“That money isn’t nearly enough Mom, not for either of us. Just how long do you think its going to last? Ten years? It won’t even get us to when the baby is a teenager. And forget about college. I won’t be able to afford that for myself, much less for the baby when the time comes.” Buffy was shaking her head, refuting everything her mother had just argued. “All the expenses add up to way more money then they’re offering and really Mom, its just wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Her daughter’s last statement had Joyce a bit mystified.
Buffy sighed, trying to corral her scattered thoughts. “What they wanna do Mom. They wanna buy me off so I’ll go away and leave Riley alone so he can go off and do what he wants. Have his future. Go to West Point.” Buffy fought sudden tears. “Its not fair. I didn’t get myself pregnant – this baby is just as much his responsibility as mine and he shouldn’t be able to just sign us away and forget.”
She did have a point, but one that Joyce wasn’t really ready to concede. “There’s no guarantee he’d stick around, sweetie. Lots of men don’t. Your father didn’t and we were married. I think you’d be better off getting what money you can now and forgetting about him. He’s just like all the others.”
“No Mom. I still think its wrong and I don’t . . . . “ she paused, once more trying to find the right words without bursting into tears. ‘I don’t care if he sticks around later, that’s not what this is about. This is about him owning up to the fact this is his baby. Its about him having to think about it every month as he writes out the support check. Its about him . . . and me, not about you and Dad or anyone else.” Buffy looked away from the sharp-eyed gaze of her mother, her jaw set and shoulders squared. She wasn’t going to back down from this decision. “Besides, Mom, you should know just how much it costs to raise a kid – and you know damn well that this offer isn’t nearly enough.”
Her tone had gotten hard with those last words and unwilling to continue the discussion, Buffy got up from the table. “Let me know what we’re gonna do about dinner. I have homework to do.”
He had a raging headache by the time he got the kids off the bus and into the custody of their parents. Times like these he almost hated teenagers and Will was convinced they were all of demonic origins. And bus trips with them were the tool of the devil, designed to inflict torture that would have made Torquemada proud.
Will also now had to deal with the paperwork suspending both Harmony Kendall and, surprisingly Willow Rosenberg. The girls hadn’t stopped bickering back and forth the entire trip, even after he’d thought he’d calmed them down by threatening them with the suspension, but apparently Harmony was as stupid as she appeared, because the girl had provoked the studious one once too often.
Harmony had walked passed Willow, supposedly to get something from Cordelia Chase, who was trying to stay out of the whole situation and inadvertently knocked Willow’s head with her elbow. Which really, no one believed, least of all him. Willow hadn’t retaliated physically, but verbally, and he’d discovered, much to his amusement, that Rosenberg had quite the harpy’s tongue when she was provoked. Separating the two had been an exercise in futility, much like washing a pair of cats, and had contributed heavily to Will’s headache. Rosenberg had ended up sitting with him, while he’d grudging placed Kendall with Cordelia Chase, who promised to keep her contained and away from the other girl.
Thankfully, the Chase girl had come through and she’d kept the blond in her seat and away from everyone else, including the over-fed wanna-be soldier boy she was currently dating. Which he picked up from the constantly muttering Willow, who hadn’t been in the least bit happy that she’d gotten suspended because of Harmony Kendall.
As much as he liked some of these kids, including Willow Rosenberg and Cordelia Chase, Will was thankful he was done with this trip and didn’t have to do another one of these for a year. He was tired and drained and really just wanted to get himself a drink and kiss his girlfriend. Well, that really wasn’t all he wanted, but it was all he was going to have to settle for, because his girlfriend was under-age and he couldn’t just take her to bed like he really wanted to do. How in the hell does she put up with all this crap every damn day?
He really wanted to know, because this nattering and bickering was enough to drive him round the bend, he couldn’t imagine being all caught up in the drama of it all. Will got the feeling Buffy didn’t care much for the gossip and backstabbing, at least not anymore. Once you’ve been the brunt of more than your share of rumors and the target of more than a few nasty barbs, the taste for such pettiness wore off rather quickly. She didn’t say much about it, but he knew there were times when the bullshit got to her, especially whenever Harmony was the one orchestrating events.
Rubbing a thumb over his scarred eyebrow, Will made his way into his uncle’s office, prepared to give him a report on why he’d suspended two girls, when Willow’s voice called out to him. “Mr. Stevenson?”
He turned, waiting for her to catch up to him. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, but you know, I can’t stand what he’s done and he’s just such a big jerk and really, Harmony? And like, its just so wrong what he did and she’s not around to defend herself or even wants to . . . and,” she paused, noting the bewildered look on his face. “I didn’t use any verbs or finish any of my sentences did I?”
At his shaken denial, Willow took a deep breath and started over again. “Harmony was talking about Buffy and saying some very mean things and not-so-very-much with the truth either about her and Riley that big jerk just sat there and said nothing. Didn’t even tell her to shut up, which is way wrong and just, how could he do that?” Without skipping a beat or waiting for his response, she launched right back into her babbling. “Anyway, I lost my temper and I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you or anything. I understand why you did that.” Her goofy smile lit up her face and it took him a minute to figure out what she was blathering on about, but he eventually got it.
“Its all right Red, I understand why you went after Harmony. But next time, do it someplace other than a school event, okay?” He peered down into her eyes, trying to convey without words what he meant.
“Oh.” It took her a minute, but Willow got it. “Ohhh. Right. See ya, Mr. Stevenson.”
And with a little wave and a wrinkle of her cute nose, Willow ran off.
Will was shaking his head with tired laughter when he finally reached Rupert’s office, but it was quickly replaced with the burning need to get home and do nothing.
Dinner was a strained and silent affair, neither of the Summers women willing to concede or agree their opponent’s arguments. Buffy had the feeling this letter was going to become a real issue between them, because her mother was clearly upset with her, the tense set of her jaw and the glint in her eyes a clear indication of Joyce’s temper.
For her part, Joyce understood very well what Buffy was trying to say, but didn’t care to listen to her headstrong daughter. Most of that money could be invested and Buffy could use a little of it each month for expenses. If they invested the bulk of it, that would be almost enough. As it stood, this was a solid offer and Joyce couldn’t think of any reason to refuse it. Pride could be swallowed for that kind of money. Lots of things could be overlooked for that kind of money.
Buffy was being stubborn, and, in Joyce’s opinion, very foolish about this whole situation. It was clear to her, that Buffy was hoping Riley would come to his senses and marry her. Joyce was harboring no such hope. She’d long ago given up believing there were any good men left, ones willing to assume their responsibilities and take care of their families. The fairy tale of happily ever after didn’t exist and the sooner Buffy faced that the better off she was going to be. Riley wasn’t going to marry her and even if, by some miracle, he did, they wouldn’t last more than ten years. And really, why bother if that was going to be the ultimate outcome? It wasn’t worth the pain and aggravation for any of them. Better to take the money and shut him out. Her daughter’s heart would be safer that way.
If Joyce had known her daughter any better, she’d have been far more worried.
Buffy, on the other hand, knew her mother very well. Knew what she was thinking about the money and knew what her mother thought about men. Everything with her parents was colored by their feelings for each other and frankly, Buffy was tired of it. She wasn’t hoping Riley would beg her forgiveness and want to marry her. In fact, if he did any of that, the way she felt right now, she’d probably slug him. And she had this feeling that Will would react even more violently. Will . . . . suddenly she really wanted, needed to see him. Needed to be held by him, to hold him close. If this baby was his, she knew none of this would be an issue. He wouldn’t run away, wouldn’t try to buy her off or ignore her and she sure as hell didn’t believe for one second that he’d dump her and start going out with some dumb blonde.
Idly picking at the remains of her dinner, Buffy jumped when her cell phone buzzed at her hip. Lifting it to her ear, Buffy said a soft hello and smiled when he whispered low and rumblingly, “hello cutie.”
Picking up her plate, Buffy walked into the kitchen, listening to him tell her what time they should meet. Disconnecting with him, Buffy hit speed dial for Willow’s number and enlisted her to act as cover without giving her any real details, and telling her they would talk about the trip and why Buffy needed her to cover during the next day’s lunch, Buffy put her dishes in the dishwasher and turned back to the dining room to confront her mother and lie to her about where she was going.
He arrived a good twenty minutes before she did, unable to stay away any longer. Will needed to see her, feel her, hold her. . . . just needed her. The headache was gone, vanquished with the assistance of tylenol, beer and the lack of noisy teenagers. Now all he needed was to see her and he’d be a happy camper. He was pacing around the headstones, his tread heavy and purposeful, even if he was just going in ever widening circles.
Buffy watched him for a few minutes, content to just see him stomping about, his head down and his long black duster swirling around his feet. She loved that coat. It was old, probably as old as she was, if not older, the leather soft and buttery. It was as much a part of him as the bleached hair, and she wondered if he’d acquired the coat around the same time as he started bleaching, and what was the reason behind that anyway? Eventually, she was sure to get the truth of it out of him, because there just had to be a good story behind that. And the scar. He hadn’t detected her presence just yet and she could hear him humming some tune as he waited.
Will made another ever-widening circuit through the headstones surrounding their favorite crypt, his mind blank. The fuzzy buzzing in his ears from the bus trip was finally going away and now he had an old Smiths tune running through his head and the fatigue from the bus trip from hell was beginning to wear on him. Plus, he had to break the news of his Christmas plans to her and Will really wasn’t looking forward to that. Drusilla and Liam were expecting him, like they did every year since the girls were born. He sighed, lifting his head up to look at the clear night sky, and caught a glimpse of Buffy watching him.
She was leaning against a tall marble headstone, her head cocked to the side, eyes trained on his pacing form and a soft smile playing on her features. God, he fucking loved her smile. It did all sorts of funny things to him, making him weak in the knees and want to do everything in his power to keep that smile on her face. Crossing the distance between them, Will swept her into his arms, his mouth on hers in greeting before she could even react to him. Buffy curled her arms around his neck and shoulders as he lifted her in the air, her legs wrapping around his waist and soft whimpers sounding in her throat.
He smelled so good. Smoke and leather and cologne and just him.
She smelled like heaven. Vanilla and jasmine and home and just her.
He broke off the kiss to bury his head between her breasts, pushing aside her coat and inhaling her scent deeply. “Fuckin’ hell I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too. A lot.” Buffy slid her hand down under his collar, desperate to feel some skin. She had missed him, missed being held by him, missed knowing he was just a quick walk across town if she needed to see him, missed seeing him in school. A soft sob escaped from her throat and she whispered, “Oh god Will, I missed you so much.”
“Hey, what’s this?” He looked up at the sound of her whispered confession to find tears pooling in her eyes. “Kitten, you knew I was comin’ back, shhh. Don’t cry baby, please?”
She nodded her head but the tears fell anyway. He reached up his left hand to wipe away her tears, his other arm tightening around her waist. “Sweetheart, please don’t cry.”
Buffy nodded again, a quavering smile breaking out over her features. “I’m so weepy-girl.”
“Its all right. I’m here now, I’ve got you and ‘m not letting you go.” His fierce declaration unfurled the knot that had been sitting in her belly for days and Buffy let go of the rigid hold she had on her emotions. Laughing and crying at the same time, she wrapped her arms back around him, her head dropping down to his neck. She kissed him once, twice and nipped him on the third and was rewarded by his low growl. His hand worked its way under her shirt, warming at the touch of her skin. He carried her back toward their crypt, murmuring softly in the crisp night air, reveling in the feel of her in his arms.
Once settled, Will reluctantly brought up the subject of Christmas.
Buffy was proud of herself for not breaking down in tears when Will had told her about his standing Christmas plans and for not getting angry either. Truth was, she was numb and more hurt than anything else. She’d been hoping that they might be able to sneak away to Los Angeles for the day and be together without fear of someone seeing them, like a real couple without serious issues. She hadn’t cried while they talked about it, nor as he walked her home, but once inside the confines of her bedroom with Mr. Gordo in her arms, Buffy let the tears fall. It wasn’t fair, how they had to hide because of stupid rules. Because some people might get upset. But she was afraid too, that maybe he . . . nahuh Buffy, not gonna think about it. I am not going to believe that he doesn’t love me, just because he hasn’t said the words. I’m gonna be all trusting girl.
She fought a sniffle and the tears that were threatening and listened to Willow gushing on about the trip to Los Angeles, determined to pay attention. They were sitting in Sunnydale’s only lunch spot that didn’t cater to the highschool crowd, mainly because Buffy didn’t really want to deal with any of her fellow classmates, at least not at the moment. And they weren’t in school because Willow had surprisingly gotten suspended for her actions on the bus trip back. Buffy had waited for her to show up all morning, but it wasn’t until English that she found out why Willow wasn’t in school. There’d been no opportunity to ask Will about it either, and so she’d left his classroom and called Willow right away.
So here they were, surrounded by senior citizens with hearing problems and all sorts of other problems that were far more important than the petty twists and turns of another day in the life of a highschool student. Buffy’s eyes swept over the tables around them, her gaze resting on an elderly couple, their hands entwined and heads bent together. They looked so sweet, their wedding rings glinting in the December sunlight, highlighting the wrinkles and spots of old age on their skin. She stared at them for long minutes, watching with tears in her eyes as the old man reached out to cup his wife’s face and then, as his gnarled fingers hovered over her aged lips, the old woman kissed them. Oh god. That’s so sweet. And beautiful. And I want that. I want someone to love me when I’m old and wrinkled. I want Will to love me when I’m old and wrinkled.
Willow watched her best friend as tears sprung to her eyes, and turned her head to follow her line of sight, to see what had made Buffy cry. All she saw was an old couple sitting together, the wife wiping the man’s mouth as he gently pushed her hands away. Something else was bugging her, Willow could sense it, and her curiosity got the better of her. “Okay Buffy, spill. I wanna know what’s going on.”
It took the blond a minute to come back to herself and she blinked in wide-eyed confusion at her best friend. “Huh? What?”
“You’ve been off in lala-land for the past couple of days.” The redhead leaned back in her seat, pushing away her salad. “So dish, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Wills, you haven’t been here for the last couple of days. There’s nothing on my mind.” Buffy waved her off, pretending there was nothing wrong.
“Right. So that old couple over there didn’t make you cry for some reason and your head hasn’t been in the clouds since we sat down. So dish, gimme the goods on what’s in your head.” Willow stared into her face, not letting Buffy look away.
Giving in, knowing that Willow wouldn’t rest until she had the full story, Buffy leaned forward until they were only inches apart, separated only by the table and stared Willow down.
Whoa, that is one scary look. Willow swallowed noisily, waiting for something dire to emerge from Buffy’s mouth.
“You swear not to breath a word to anyone? I mean not anyone. Not ever.” Buffy had a look on her face that Willow had never ever seen anyone wear. A look of determination and stubbornness and something indefinable that Willow couldn't find words to describe. Fierce anger? Protective vulnerability? Whatever it was, it was a contradiction in meanings, and boded something very serious indeed was in the telling.
“No one. I swear.” She paused a beat, then squeaked out, “not even Xander?”
“I mean it Wills. Not Xander. No one.” Buffy’s jaw clenched and her lips thinned, all traces of softness gone. “Promise me.”
“Okay. Okay.” She grinned sheepishly, hoping to lighten the mood a little bit. “Wanna pinkie swear?”
Despite the seriousness of her expression, Buffy smilled. “You are such a goof.” Sobering instantly, Buffy continued. “Okay, so you promise?”
“Cross my heart and all that.” Willow made the criss-cross motion over her heart, a crooked grin wavering on her features.
Inhaling deeply Buffy said softly, “I met someone.”
Willow squealed a bit then changed her expression when Buffy didn’t break out in accompanying giggles. “This is a good thing right?”
The petite blonde was shaking her head. “Oh its of the good. The best. But he’s older.” She waited gauging Willow’s reaction.
“Oh a college man, go Buffy!” Wait – does he know about the baby?” Willow sipped her water, waiting for Buffy’s answer.
“Yup he knows. And he’s not in college.” Buffy looked down at her french fries. “He’s already graduated and got his master’s too.”
Willow nearly dropped her drink. “How old is he?”
And that’s when the look – the oh-my-god-I’m-so-in-love look bloomed across the golden tanned features of her best friend, shocking Willow completely. “Buffy?”
“He’s . . . He’s great Wills. He’s so sweet and kind and he’s known from the beginning about teen-mom Buffy and its like he doesn’t care, well, okay, he does. But,” she paused, trying to gather her scattered thoughts, “its like it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t treat me all freaky, except he’s like way over-protective.”
“Wow. Just. Wow.” The giggles were back. “So details? C’mon, I’m your best friend, paint me a picture.”
Buffy hesitated, knowing somehow if she described any part of Will, other than his personality, they’d be busted. And the last thing she wanted was for them to get caught. So she kept his looks out of the description she gave Willow and extracted another promise from her about keeping her mouth shut.
So, please, leave a review, Coz the next chapter is just waiting to be posted. . .