Thirty-fourth. Not heed the raving blast
Without, the frost, the blinding snow,
The storm-wind’s moody madness –
Within, the firelight’s ruddy glow,
And childhood’s nest of gladness.
The magic words shall hold thee fast;
Thou shall not heed the raving blast.
Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass
Our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
Robert Burns, Tam O’Shanter
Why now, blow wind, swell billow and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Julius Caesar, act v, scene i
Joyce emerged from the unnaturally illuminated store into darkness. Glancing around, she scanned the almost deserted parking lot looking for her daughter suddenly afraid she’d disappeared again. An old black sedan idled nearby, and it took her more than a few minutes to realize it was occupied by her daughter and her companion.
Companion. . . . just what is my daughter doing with her English teacher at this hour of night? And I did not hear him call her sweetheart. . . . just one more question I have for my daughter.
The sedan pulled up and Buffy rolled down her window. “Follow us.”
“Buffy, . . . I . . . “ Joyce started to speak, but Buffy cut her off.
“Look Mom, you’re the one that wanted to talk. So, we’ll make with the conversation. Just not here.”
“Fine.” Shouldering her purse, Joyce headed for her car.
Buffy watched her mother go, a strange look on her face. Will waited until Joyce got into her car then gunned the engine.
“Better eat that now, kitten before it melts.”
“Not sure I want it anymore.” Despite her words, Buffy tore off the protective seal then licked the top. “Did you buy spoons?”
“In the bag.” He watched the rearview mirror as Joyce pulled up behind him. He knew, without looking that Buffy was going to eat the ice cream. It hadn’t taken him long to learn when Buffy had a craving, nothing stood in her way.
“So where are we going?”
“Not entirely certain yet. You’re okay with not doing this at home, right?” He cut a sideways look at her, waiting for her response.
“Very sure.” Digging into the chocolate ice cream, Buffy thought about various spots in Sunnydale that might be deserted at eleven o’clock at night, during the week. “Really trying to avoid getting stuck talking all night.”
“I agree kitten.” He drove a bit longer, then, as they passed the Richard T. Wilkins grade school, he had an idea. “How about the park?”
She shrugged, since her mouth was full of chocolately caramel marshmallow goodness.
Five minutes later he pulled into the deserted parking lot, Joyce’s car right behind him. “You ready for this?”
Another shrug, followed up by a grimace. “Not really, but there’s no time like now.”
The short drive to the park wasn’t nearly enough time to calm her temper. If anything it had given her time to think, time to stew over all the things that had been swimming in her head for the last few months without any venue to let out her frustration. She’d spent months wondering where her daughter was and now, faced with her presence all Joyce could do was seethe with barely suppressed anger.
Why the hell is she with her English teacher? And what else is going on? Where has she been?
Joyce got out of the car before the engine had completely shut down, her eyes on the big black sedan next to her. Adrenaline raced through her, and she could feel herself bracing for an argument. She watched in amazement as Will emerged from the car first, then moved around it, closer to her. He looked like he was going to say something then checked himself, but with his hand on the door, he turned to face her.
“May not mean anything to you, but she’s had a rough couple of weeks. Had a scare with the baby and she almost lost it. So if you’re thinking of . . . . . jus’ go easy on her, yeah?” He ran his hands through his hair, glancing down at his feet, unwilling to look her in the eyes. A deep sigh broke from him and Will opened the door.
He leaned in to help Buffy up, and he laughed a bit when she handed him the empty pint first. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Throw it out?” Buffy grabbed his free hand and used it as support to help herself out of the car.
Buffy leaned against him for a moment, flexing one of her legs. On her face was a slight grimace of pain and Will knew immediately what the problem was. “Walk it off, kitten.”
“Yeah, yeah. . . . I’m walking, see?” She moved away from him, limping slightly, one hand trailing along the side of the car.
Sweetheart. . . kitten. . . Just what is going on here? “Buffy? What’s going on?” She couldn’t keep the confused anger from her tone, but then Joyce was beyond caring what her daughter read into her comments.
Buffy stopped at the trunk, leaning against the solid ebony steel. Joyce was aware of the man standing behind her, though she chose, at that moment to ignore his presence. Instead she focused on the figure of her daughter, pregnant belly looking very prominent. She ran a hand over her belly, then let loose a hearty burp, followed by a small chuckle. “Sorry.”
Her name sounded on the air again, and Buffy finally turned to look at her mother. “What Mom?”
“Care to tell me what’s going on?” Joyce’s expression had changed somewhat, but it was clear the overriding emotion she still felt was anger.
“What is it you’re dying to know?” As soon as she asked, Buffy knew it was the wrong question, but there was nothing she could do to take it back.
“What are you doing with your English teacher? Is that where you’ve been for the last few months? Have you been living with him?”
It was hard not to miss the belligerent tone in her mother’s voice and Buffy flinched. She stared off into the darkness, trying to come up with answers that wouldn’t set off her mother’s temper. Okay, so not wanting to do this. . . . .
“Look Mom, I . . . . “ and she was at a loss. Buffy had absolutely no idea what to say. Not a clue, nothing at all. She threw a look that clearly said help me at Will, who stared back at her. He had no answer for her either, because what he wanted to say to her mother shouldn’t be said in front of Buffy.
She took another deep breath and instead of trying to think, she just let the words out. “Yeah, Mom, I’ve been living with Will, for about a month now. He saved me, Mom, without him I’d still be wandering the streets.” Buffy looked down at her hand splayed over her belly, then glanced up at Will. “I had nowhere else to go. . . .”
“Nowhere else to go? You should have come home!”
Buffy was shaking her head. “No I couldn’t . . . . I had nowhere . . . . and, Will . . . . Will let me stay with him.”
Absolute silence greeted her statement. Joyce stared at her for a moment, opened her mouth then closed it. “So its all innocent? You’re telling me you’ve been staying with this man and . . . Buffy I’m not stupid. Have you been lying all along? Is this even Riley’s baby?”
“What?! Is that what you . . . . Mom, that’s just sick.”
“No, it’s not sick. And you can’t stand there and tell me nothing is going on between you two, because it’s written all over your face. And he called you sweetheart and kitten . . . . and. . . “ Joyce put such a vicious sneer to those two nicknames that Buffy almost threw up.
Her words jumbled together and Buffy fought not to scream at her mother. “I’m not gonna lie to you Mom, but not because you deserve the truth or anything, coz you pretty much threw me out of the house, but because Will deserves the truth. Yeah, Mom, there’s more than just something going on between us, but that’s between us. It’s complicated and not always easy, but its real. I love him. And he loves me. And as much as I wish otherwise, this baby doesn’t have his DNA. Which pretty much sucks the big one, because Riley? His DNA sucks.”
Joyce whirled around to look at Will, anger pinching her features. “You took advantage of an underage girl in a desperate situation.”
“He so did not. I didn’t go to him until the day before my birthday. I was living . . . I was hiding out on the streets, sleeping in different places.”
“You expect me to believe you? Please . . . I can’t believe a word you say. You lied to me and then you run away. How do you expect me to trust you?”
“You trust me? That’s just really great Mom. How about all those times . . . . “ Buffy took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She could feel her heart racing, could feel her lungs contracting and her face getting redder and redder and she knew her blood pressure was going through the roof and she suddenly realized this was not good for her or the baby. “I can’t do this. I need to sit down.”
Will was at her side instantly, reaching for her. “C’mon, kitten, sit down.”
He guided her back to the passenger’s side, easing her into the seat. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “I dunno. I think I need to just rest for a minute.”
His mother-in-law approached the vehicle, concern warring with the anger now. “Stay there, sweetheart. Don’t get up.”
Joyce didn’t get any closer. Buffy watched while Will turned around to confront her mother. “I told you she’d been having a rough time, but I guess that didn’t register with you, did it?”
She started to say something and he waved her off, intent on having his say. He’d let Buffy take the lead, but now he was damned good and ready to give her a piece of his mind. Before he could speak, though, Joyce’s voice was sounding out again.
“Just how long has there been something going on between you two?” She folded her arms over her chest, watching him closely. “How long have you been using my daughter?”
“I’m not using her, an’ like Buffy said, it’s . . . . Look, while you were badgering Red, I was out looking for her every bloody night. She wasn’t with Rosenberg, no one knew where the hell she was, an’ you had your head up your. . . . in the sand.” Will ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his curls.
Joyce looked momentarily taken aback. She’d honestly thought Buffy was with Willow. “She’s done it before. Gone to Willow’s and had her friend lie about where she was.”
Will started to say something, but Joyce cut him off again, this time going for the jugular. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t prove she wasn’t with you, which means whatever line you fed her to get her to stay with you isn’t going to work any longer. She was underage and your student. That makes you a pedophile. And I’m going to make sure you lose your job.”
“No! Mom, it wasn’t like that at all. You can’t do that! It’s a lie!” Buffy screamed at her mother, unwilling to let those comments go.
“Buffy you’re a fool. He doesn’t love you, and he’s certainly not taking care of you because he’s a good person. He wants one thing from you and when you can’t have sex with him, he’ll dump you.” Joyce made a face then continued. “He’s not Prince Charming come to rescue you. Life isn’t like that.”
Neither one of the other two could believe what they’d just heard.
Will ground his teeth together, looking up to the heavens, praying for patience. If Joyce didn’t shut up soon, he was going to take matters into his own hands. Very quietly, very firmly, Buffy started speaking.
“Will does love me . . . . Probably more than I realize. He’s not going to throw me out when I can’t have sex with him, because if he didn’t two weeks ago, when the doctor told us we couldn’t, then he won’t ever.”
The distant sound of a train broke the near silence, the low hum of passing cars a soft melody, highlighting the fact Buffy had just admitted to her mother they were sleeping together.
“And Mom, just so you know, we’ve rescued each other. We save each other every night.”
“Oh please, Buffy, save me the romantic trash. He’s your English teacher and he should be in jail.”
Oh that’s just . . . . That tears it. I’ve had enough of this shite. “I should be in jail? Why? Because I fell in love with your daughter? I’m not the one who should be in jail.” He paced close to Joyce, crowding her, pushing her back toward her Jeep. “You know why she wouldn’t go home? Coz it’s not safe for her there. The day Buffy dropped out of school, she showed up with a bruise on her face that was . . . oh, about this big.” He picked up her hand, examining it in the moonlight.
“Giles noticed it, since I didn’t even see her that day. He also said he’d seen bruises up and down her arm. So you tell me, Joyce, why Buffy wouldn’t go back home when things like that were happening?”
He dropped her hand, backing away from her. “Wasn’t me who left my only child for weeks at a time, without any supervision or control. Wasn’t me who didn’t even bother reporting her missing. It about killed me because I couldn’t file the report, hell I couldn’t even go to you and get you to do it.”
“I spent every night, every single bloody night, for three weeks, looking for her. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep for worrying ‘bout her.” He was pacing back and forth in front of her, his movements controlled save for the strides back and forth. “Truth is I love your daughter. Doesn’t matter how old she is or what she looks like.”
He paused in his pacing, standing still for a moment. Buffy knew he was trying to control his temper and she hoped her mother would keep her mouth shut, but her luck wasn’t any better than it normally was, and her mother kept right on, spouting more and more angry words.
“What I do with regard to my child is none of your business. You’re just her teacher. You have no right to criticize me at all.”
“Oh yes I do. What you did to your daughter was abusive, you bloody hypocrite. You left her alone, at least twice, for nearly a month. That’s neglect.” Will started ticking off on his fingers. “You hit your daughter, enough so that the school made note of it more than once. That’s physical abuse.”
When Joyce started to speak, Will got up in her face. “Don’t Joyce. Do not push me. Because I’ll get reports from social workers who’ve been to the house, I’ll get the counselors who’ve seen your daughter. Hell, I’ll even get the school to back me up.”
Her voice seethed with anger and something very akin to hatred. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He stared into her eyes, and even in the dim light, Joyce could see the ferocious emotions he was holding in check. His voice was very low, and oh so very soft. “I would.”
His face was inches from hers and she was forced to take a step back. She tried once more pressing what she thought was her advantage. “Buffy admitted you’ve slept together, which is still illegal. You’ll lose your job and go to jail.”
Will laughed then, a cold chilling laugh that cause the hair on her neck to stand up. “No I won’t, because it’s not illegal. She’s over eighteen, out of school, and. . . . “ He grinned wolfishly at her. “She’s mine.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Means ‘til death do us part. Means signed and sealed by the State of Nevada.”
“What?!”
Buffy finally spoke. “We got married, Mom.”
Neither one of them expected her reaction. As Buffy’s pronouncement sunk in, Joyce burst into tears.
Will watched as she got ready for bed, idly dumping her dirty clothes in the laundry basket they’d somehow acquired in the last couple of weeks. She’d been mostly silent since they’d left her mother, obviously heavy thoughts weighing on her mind. Given her mother’s strange reaction, Will supposed Buffy’s silence was to be expected. Only he didn’t like it. Wasn’t like her to be so quiet.
She crawled into the bed beside him, her eyes on his bare chest. “You know. . . I wasn’t planning on telling her. She just got me so aggravated that it just kind of exploded.”
His low chuckle filled the bedroom, as his hand ran down from her shoulder to her wrist. “I almost spilled the beans once or twice. Was on the tip of my tongue more than once, so no worries there.”
“Did . . . . Did you mean all those things?” Her voice was whisper soft, her head bowed as she nervously plucked at the blankets.
“What things? About pressing charges if she made accusations ‘bout me?”
When she wouldn’t look at him, Will tilted up her chin, so she could answer his question.
“Yeah, all that.”
“Every bloody word of it.”
She searched his eyes for sincerity and Buffy nodded once, remaining silent. He sighed, debating on the wisdom of letting her know he wasn’t the only one who’d been watching, and that there was plenty in her school records that hadn’t seen the light of day. He didn’t want her to get mad at him, though, for looking at her records.
“Don’t get shirty with me, kitten, but after you told me about being pregnant, I looked through your file.”
When she didn’t pull away or flinch, Will kept going. “All your stuff from Los Angeles is in there, including how your parents had you committed because they couldn’t deal. They took all their problems out on you pet, and treated you horribly. Giles has been worried about you since you transferred.”
Buffy was quiet, almost too quiet and Will was worried about her reaction, especially when she choked out a little sob. “He was worried about me?”
“Still is sweetheart.” Taking a huge gamble, but his instincts were telling him the timing was right, Will plunged forward. “Been thinking about this for a while, an’ you don’t have to do this right away, but think on it before you say no. Your parents did a number on you, kitten, blaming you for their problems, rejecting you an’ maybe . . . . Maybe you could talk to someone about it, yeah?”
His voice had gotten softer as he talked, as if he were afraid she’d shut him out for suggesting it. And that was her first reaction, but his words and the way he’d phrased them made her stop and think before she said no. Nowhere in his last words had he said there was something wrong with her, nor had he said she was at fault. In fact, he’d said the opposite.
Unknowingly, his next words sealed it for her. “None of it was your fault, not the divorce or their reactions. You were. . . . You are amazingly strong to still be okay. I just think you might want to sort out how you feel about it with someone who has no emotions tied up in it.”
Buffy dropped her head onto his chest and Will released the breath he was holding. “Might be a good idea. I don’t wanna be like them. I wanna be a good mom. And I wanna stay married for a really long time.”
His smile stretched from ear to ear, making him look a lot younger. “Well that’s good, because I want the same.”
She cast him a sly look. “You wanna be a good mom?”
Her comment completely changed the mood, and it took him a second or two to register exactly what she’d just quipped. “Oi! You minx. You know what I mean.”
Her giggles only worsened when he began tickling her.
“That’s not what you said.”
“Brat.”
“But you love me.”
“Only sometimes, sweetheart.”
“Only?”
“Yeah . . . . The rest of the time I adore you.”
He’d trapped her body beneath his, kisses replacing tickling fingers and her breathy voice sounding out his name was the only noise until they both cried out in release.
On the weekend, they were packing up all her belongings, with help from Giles and Jenny, and the unexpected assistance of Willow, from Revello Drive to their house on Crawfod Street. Joyce was conspicuous by her absence, although she’d left a package for Buffy of all her paperwork and a letter that remained unopened.
They were just starting to bring out the boxes, loading them into the small truck Will had rented for the occasion and Buffy was standing on the front lawn with Willow when a high pitched whistle broke through the mid-afternoon quiet. Only the two girls froze, the others paying no heed to the random noise, they shared a look, which only ended when the redhead shrugged her confusion.
“Buffy?” Xander’s voice calling his wife’s name caught Will’s attention and he stopped in the shadowed doorway, waiting to see what unfolded.
“Hey Xander.” She was subdued, had been quiet most of the day, depressed because her mother wasn’t there, yet relieved for the same reason.
“Buffster. . . Willow said you were okay and safe, and its nice to see you are.” He walked across the lawn, his eyes sparkling with happiness at finally seeing for himself how she was. “You look great.”
“Thanks. I feel better.” She smiled in return then stepped into the hug he was offering.
Will breathed a sigh of relief, letting go of the worry he’d had over her emotions. She’d been subdued and down since the confrontation with her mother, and maybe seeing Xander and Willow would be the best thing for her right now. He smiled a bit as she brushed back her hair, then turned to go back upstairs and get another box.
“Yeah, heard about the scare, not what caused it though. Are you in an okay place? This new place you’re living?” He stepped away from her, trying to figure out what was different, aside from her bigger belly. “Do you need anything? Money? Muscle?”
Giles stepped out from the van then, not noticing their surprise addition until he was almost upon them. “Eh, hello Xander.”
“Hey Mr. Giles.” He looked between the two girls and the much older man, reaching a very erroneous conclusion. “You’re gonna be staying with Mr. Giles?”
The two girls shared a look while Giles stuttered out something unintelligible. Buffy raised an eyebrow in question and Willow stared back, shaking her head. “Xander, you gotta promise not to wig and not to say anything to anyone.”
“Not even Cordy.” Willow added, after catching the look on Giles’ face.
Xander made a zipping motion over his lips, predictably causing smiles to break out on the girls’ faces.
Buffy grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the house. “There’s someone I want you to meet, Xan. Its my husband.”
He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her. “Buff? What? Please tell me you didn’t marry Captain Cardboard . . . . Please, Buff. Didn’t Willow tell you what he’s been doing?”
With a giggle Buffy tugged him forward again. “Riley is so out of the picture. Nope, it’s not him. C’mon Xander.”
They made it inside the hallway, just as Will was brining down another box. “Hey Mr. Stevenson. Is the whole English contingent of Sunnydale High helping today?”
Will dropped the box on top of the others lining the hallway, wiped off a hand on his jeans then shook Xander’s hand. “‘lo whelp.”
“So Buff, where is the guy?” Xander leaned forward, peering first into the living room, down the hallway and into the dining room.
The girls broke into giggles behind him and he felt like he’d missed something. “Is he upstairs?”
More giggles now and he noticed Mr. Stevenson getting into the act by chuckling.
“Xander, this is Will. Will this is my friend Xander.”
It took him longer than a moment to realize what Buffy meant. When he finally did catch on, Xander stared, mouth agape, eyes darting from one blonde to another. His response was rather eloquent. “Huh?”
She reached for Will’s hand, a blindingly bright smile wreathing her features. “Can you believe it? I’m so happy.”
“What? . . . Wow . . . When? How?”
“We got married. Did it three weeks ago in Vegas.”
“Holy frijoles.” He stood there, completely stunned, unable to form a complete thought, much less a sentence.
“C’mon whelp, since you’re here, you can do some heavy lifting.” Will clapped him on the back and dumped one of the boxes into his arms. ‘Let’s go.”
Lemme know what you think, please?