Thirty-fifth. Beginning All
The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily.
That is what Fiction means.
Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, act 2
Stay with me,
My love I hope you'll always be
Right here by my side if ever I need you
Oh my love
In your arms,
I feel so safe and so secure
Everyday is such a perfect day to spend
Alone with you
I will follow you will you follow me
All the days and nights that we know will be
I will stay with you will you stay with me
Just one single tear in each passing year
Genesis, Follow You, Follow Me, from the album
And Then There Were Three, 1978
A successful marriage requires
falling in love many times,
always with the same person.
Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook
Marriage is a book
of which the first chapter
is written in poetry
and the remaining chapters in prose.
Beverley Nichols
Oh how quiet, quiet the world can be
when it's just you and little me
everything is clear, everything is new
so you won't be leaving will you
and if you're cold, I'll keep you warm
if you're low, just hold on
cos I will be your safety
oh don't leave home
Dido, Don’t Leave Home, from the album
Life For Rent, 2004
In the opinion of the world,
marriage ends all,
as it does in a comedy.
The truth is precisely the opposite:
it begins all.
Anne Sophie Swetchine
He’d helped them move all Buffy’s things, his mind on autopilot, not really registering anything about his surroundings until Mr. Stevenson – Will – turned on his stereo, filling the whole house with music. At that point, Xander had started paying attention.
Buffy’s new house had three bedrooms, and a small office, which could be used as another bedroom, if necessary. A full basement, garage and a nice big backyard and a goofy long-eared dog. And, here was the kicker, an entertainment system he’d be willing to kill for.
He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Buffy get drinks for everyone, as she hummed and bopped along with the music.
“Didn’t know you liked the Ramones.” His remark was soft enough not to startle her.
The smile she directed over her shoulder was genuine, the first one he’d seen in a long while. Actually, she’s smiled more than once today, and they’ve all been huge big smiles.
“Will’s been teaching me the finer points of punk.”
“Definitely a much overlooked and underrated genre.” He moved further into the room, checking out the appliances and the backyard. “So, Buff . . . I’m all curious, care to tell me how this happened?”
She’d known this question was coming the minute she told Xander. Stealing herself for the conversation, Buffy stalled for time. “Tell me something first and then I’ll answer you.”
“Ohhh . . . Quid pro quo. Cool. Should you put me behind glass first?” He stole a cracker from the serving tray in front of him.
Buffy looked at him like he was crazy, then as her brain caught up with the reference, she laughed. “Just call me Clarice.”
When he made that creepy, slithery, slurpy noise, she squealed out, “Eeeeewww, Xander.”
He laughed right along with her, then said “Go ahead, ask me.”
“How did you just happen to be passing my mother’s house today?” Buffy leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching him.
“I wasn’t. Your mom wanted me to get the mail and check on the house while she’s gone.”
So that’s why she’s not around. Without hiding the hurt, Buffy asked. “Did she say where she was gonna be and when she’d be back?”
“Didn’t say where she was going, but she said she’d be gone for about a month.” His face held so much sympathy, too much for her to take. Buffy had to look away.
“Oh.” She paused, gathering herself to tell Xander about her and Will, when Will’s voice started singing along with Joey Ramone. A another bright smile broke over her features and Xander knew whatever she was feeling was real. “So you wanna know about me and Will. Better pull up a chair, this could take a while.”
In the end though, it hadn’t taken very long at all, and long before the others missed Xander’s presence unloading the boxes, Buffy had updated him about everything.
Still, it took Xander the better part of the next two days to actually assimilate Buffy and Will’s story. It didn’t really hit home until he was sitting in English, watching Mr. Stevenson teach. His best friend had married his English teacher.
That was weird.
Buffy stared at the paperwork and envelope from her mother for a few minutes every day, but never once opened either. The paperwork should have all been routine stuff, school and doctor’s records, bank information – stuff she’d eventually need. The envelope was another issue altogether and not something she wanted to face.
So every day she looked at it, and every day she put it aside. Nope, not ready to do that yet. Will didn’t press her about it, figuring when she was ready, Buffy would open it up and either share it with him or not. But it was something she had to do. And eventually she would.
Friday afternoon found her waiting for Will, bored out of her mind. She’d spent all morning studying for her GED, which was scheduled for the beginning of March and Buffy figured she was as ready as she could be. Not like it’s been years since I was in school, so I should be okay with all this testing.
She wandered through the house, Clem at her heels – ever since the scare, he’d been guarding her, never far away from her, especially if Will wasn’t home. It was chilly, rain falling lightly against the grey skies and it reflected her current mood. Buffy felt restless, unable to focus on any one thing. There had been no word from her mother, not that she’d really expected any, but it would have been nice to know where she was.
Once more she found herself staring at the paperwork and the dreaded envelope. Oh, lemme just get this over with. Buffy flipped quickly through the papers, idly noting banks and balances when a figure caught her eye. Whoa . . . that can’t be right. . . . there’s way too much money in that account. Looking closer, she saw it was a brand-new account, opened just after her birthday. What the hell?
There was no explanation in the statement, as to where the funds came from, nor was there any indication the money wasn’t completely hers. She’d have to look at the account a little closer, maybe get Will to explain it. . . . Or maybe there’s an explanation in here.
Buffy ripped open the envelope, sat down and started to read.
Will walked in the door, in a relatively good mood for a couple of reasons. Mostly because it was Friday and he could spend the next two days with his beautiful wife and, well, because he had such a beautiful wife.
Who was currently sitting on the floor, her back against the wall and papers strewn all around her. Clem was laying beside her and both of them looked up at his approach. “Buffy?”
“Hi.”
He thought better of mentioning both she and Clem had identical expressions. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I should be angry or really disappointed, but all I feel is really numb.” She shifted some of the papers, clearing a spot for him to sit.
“What happened?” He sat down facing her, his legs splayed out on either side of hers.
She thrust a couple of pages at him. “Here. Read this.”
Will stared at her before grabbing them. “Something tells me I’m not gonna like this.”
The smile she sent his way wasn’t a happy one. “You’re not wrong.”
Without another word, he started reading. It was a letter, from her mother.
Dear Buffy,
I’m not sure where to begin. I’ve been doing some hard thinking over the past few weeks, actually since I realized you weren’t coming home anytime soon, but especially in the past week or so.
Enclosed with your paperwork is information you probably will need, including something at the moment, I’m not particularly proud of. I took the Finn’s money, even after you said you didn’t want it. I thought I was doing what was best for you and your child. The terms of the agreement are simple, neither you nor I can access the money alone, at least until you turn twenty-one. At that point all control is yours.
I don’t approve of your marriage. I think he’s taking terrible advantage of you. You’re vulnerable right now and you think you’re in love. Give it a few years, I’m sure that will change when he starts to resent you for carrying another man’s child, if that is actually true. I don’t know what to believe from you anymore. I know you aren’t the young lady I thought I raised. But you’ve made your choices and you’ll have to live with the consequences. You know where to find me if you ever need me.
You might want to inform your father of what you’ve done. You’ve made adult decisions, so now you have to start taking responsibility for them and despite what you might think or feel, he is still your father. He has a right to know what you’ve done.
I’ll contact you when I return from Minnesota. Please remember that I do love you and I only wanted to protect you and do what I thought was for the best.
She signed it almost as impersonally as she’d written it, simply. “Your Mother.”
Will stared at the pages, unable to think past the anger. What a bleeding bitch that one is. . . . How the hell did she ever manage to produce my girl?
“I’m not calling my father.” It was the first thing she said since he started reading and he wasn’t surprised at all.
“Don’t think you should.” He was more concerned with what she was thinking about the money, but he held his tongue, waiting to see what else she had to say.
“I can’t believe she took their money.” She paused, looking through the paperwork strewn about the floor. Finding the bank statements in question, Buffy handed them over to Will. “Here. Look at this.”
A low whistle filled the air. “That’s a nice piece of change.”
“Yeah, but its still money I didn’t want to take. Now he’s not going to pay or have to think about what he threw away.” Buffy shrugged, a sly smile creeping across her features. “Although I think I got the better deal. No Riley. Just you and baby.”
He laughed then, more from relief than any other emotion. “Actually, kitten. I got the better end of it.” Will surged on his knees, hauling her into his arms. “I got you . . . and that’s worth everything.”
Buffy hugged him close, speaking softly into his chest. “I’ve been thinking about what you suggested, about going to talk to someone. I think that would be a good idea.”
There was still a very real fear, in both of them, that sooner or later word would get to the powers about their relationship and they would be forced to flee the country – very quickly. So to that end, Will had filed for their passports, and he always made sure the bills were all paid. He was worried though, and not even Drusilla’s quiet confidence had him anything near convinced the other shoe wasn’t about to drop. But every day the secret held was another day closer to safety.
Despite his initial reluctance, Will had agreed to Xander’s request to inform Cordelia and the cheerleader had been drawn into their confidence. The number of people who knew only increased the danger and Will walked around the school constantly on edge.
However, the one bright spot in his days had been the scare he and Giles had put into Riley Finn. Since Buffy’s closest friends all knew, Cordelia had told both Englishmen about their suspicions that Riley was following Willow and her theories as to why. Quickly figuring Cordelia had the right of it, the two men came up with a plan.
Riley was called into Giles’ office and told, in no uncertain terms, if his harassment of Willow Rosenberg didn’t cease immediately, Giles would be contacting Lieutenant MacArthur, and it would be marked on his record. Though protesting his innocence it was clear to everyone in the room Riley knew he was caught. Knowing the root cause of his curiosity, Giles posed the question, “What is your purpose in following Miss Rosenberg?”
The gangly teen hung his head. “I had some questions about my old girlfriend, Buffy Summers. I just wanna know if she’s okay. And maybe apologize for some of the things I said.”
Both of them realized the boy specifically said “things I said” and not actions, which to Will meant the boy still would have dumped her. Well, like Buffy said, Finn’s loss was their gain . . . and really, he’d thank the heavens, the powers, God, every day for the next sixty years that he’d been so colossally stupid. Trying to gauge the boy’s sincerity, Will stared at him for more than a few moments. Leaving this part of the conversation up to Will, Giles sat back, playing the almost impartial observer.
After a few long minutes, wherein Riley got more and more uncomfortable, without really knowing why, Will finally spoke. “She’s fine. Safe as houses, in fact. An’ if you’re sincere about the apology, I’ll make sure she hears of it.”
“I am sir.”
“Then I’ll see she hears it. Don’t expect to hear anything back, though, Finn, I’m sure she’s not ready to see you.” Or that she even wants to you stupid git.
“That’s okay. I just want her to know.” He looked at the older gentleman. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, just remember, Mr. Finn, one misstep and its all over.”
“I will sir.”
The two Englishmen waited until he was gone, then almost simultaneously they both exploded.
“What tripe.” Was Giles’ rather pithy comment, while Will spluttered out, “Hulking git. Bloody wanker.”
“So you don’t think he means it?” All Will did was raise an eyebrow and Giles had his answer. “No, I very much gathered you didn’t.”
It was the middle of the following week and Will was in the throes of a passionate recital of MacBeth’s soliloquy when his intercom buzzed. Motioning for one of the students to get it, he went on with the speech until the end. He paused, watching their reactions when Jonathan Levinson’s voice broke through their applause.
“Mr. Stevenson? Your wife is on the phone in the office. They said it’s an emergency.”
His head snapped up and worry instantly flooded through him. “Oh hell.”
“Tell them I’m on my way.”
“They said they’ll patch her through.”
“Fine. Give me the phone.” He reached for it, then motioned the teen away.
Everyone in the class was staring at him, most of them with confused wonder on their faces. Only Willow wasn’t surprised. None but her had known about Mr. Stevenson’s marriage at all, and there was shock on more than one face.
Will grabbed the phone, angling his face away from the class. “Kitten?”
“I’m fine, Will, so stop worrying right now.”
He blew out a breath and his heart stopped thumping so hard. “You sure?”
“Positive. The mail just came.” There was a quavering nervous hint to her voice and Will couldn’t figure out why.
“An’ you’re calling to tell me this?”
“Will. . . . I opened one of your letters.”
Confusion filled his head. “Yeah an’? Got nothing to hide from you, so what’s this about?”
She giggled then, saying, “So not even thinking you got something like that. God, the places your mind goes.”
“Quit playing, sweetheart an’ tell me what’s what.”
“All right, Mr. Grouch.” She paused, then gushed out in a breathless rush, “One of the publishing houses responded. They want to publish your poems . . . And Will, they want to see anything else you’ve done. They’re offering an advance of twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“What?” Every teen in the classroom jumped at the sound of his voice. “Holy buggering. . . . Go ahead, kitten, read the whole thing.”
They were walking home from the Espresso Pump, talking quietly in the midnight darkness. Buffy was leaning against Will’s arm, her head bumping against his shoulder with every step. She let out a soft giggle, drawing his attention to her. “What’s funny, baby?”
“I just realized. . . . This is pretty much where it started for us.” She moved back a bit, looking up at his face.
He looked around at their surroundings, realizing they were just outside the gates of the cemetery where he’d first found her way back in October. A chuckle emerged from his lips and Will squeezed her hand. “Actually, sweetling, I noticed you a bit earlier than that. . . . Kept catching my eye, you did. Thought you were adorable first time I laid eyes on you. Just couldn’t do anything ‘bout it.”
As his words washed over her, Buffy felt the blush creeping over her face. “So confession time, huh? Well . . . “ she drew out the word, then spoke quickly in a rush. “I was crushing on you so badly . . . from the minute I saw you on my first day here. I was. . . . Damn.” She ducked her head, hiding from his gaze. “I thought you were the hottest . . . I saw you and almost . . . you don’t really know what . . . you are just gorgeous.”
Will stopped short, disbelief coloring his features. He shook his head, drinking in her presence. Tugging her hand, pulling her around to look at him, Will started speaking. “Buffy. . . . Buffy, love, you have no idea how beautiful you are, no idea. If you think. . . . If I’m as gorgeous as you say I am, you eclipse me. God, woman. . . . You are. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her almost embarrassed giggles filled the air around them and he smiled just to hear the joy in her laughter. “So, it’s like this mutual admiration thing, huh?”
“Looks that way, princess.”
“So that’s a good thing.”
“The best.” Deciding against any heavy conversation, Will tried to keep their interaction light. “What say we get some ice cream?”
“Mmmmm. . . . Nah. How about cheeseburgers?” Her belly rumbled softly and he smiled. “So our girl wants something different tonight?”
Buffy ran her hand over her ever-growing belly. “I guess so.” Looking down, she realized “I can’t see my feet anymore.” Wrinkling her nose, she playfully grumbled. “Maybe we should just get some low-fat yogurt.”
“Oh baby, you know . . . “ he paused, searching for a way to say what he wanted without setting off the emotional roller-coaster.
But before he could compose his thoughts, she interrupted him. “Does it bother you that. . . . About the baby?”
He whipped his head up to look at her, barely able to make out the sudden shimmer of tears in her eyes. “What?” He reached for her, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly, holding her still. “Buffy. . . . Buffy, look at me.”
A soft sniffle was his only answer and when she didn’t look up at him, his hold tightened, then he lifted his left hand to cup her chin. “Told you once before how I felt an’ nothing’s changed since then. This is my baby girl here,” and his hand dropped to her belly, rubbing
soft circles over her. “I’ll love you both for always, sweets, because you’re both mine. Doesn’t matter to me how either of you got here. You’re mine.”
Guessing accurately where this came from, Will spoke softly, pulling her into his embrace. “Your mother is wrong, I don’t resent you . . . or her . . . and I won’t. I love you too much for that.” His hand drifted down to cup her rounded buttock, squeezing her gently. “Besides, I’ve got plans to get you in this state again before to long.”
It took her a few seconds to realize what he meant and all she could do was gape at him. “Will . . . You do realize it’ll be a while after this baby’s born before we can start on another.”
He looked down into her eyes, his own blue gaze filling with heat, warming her up in the cool February night air. “Hhhmmm . . . ‘bout six weeks or so is all we need to wait. You’re beautiful . . . you glow . . . when you’re. . . . Sometimes I look at you an’ I can’t breathe because I love you so much.” He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, whispering softly, “An’ being inside you, when you’re already full of new life is just . . . icing on the cake.”
His hand slid inside her coat, up underneath her loose shirt, fingers tracing idle patterns on her soft skin. She could barely think because of his words, his touch upon her skin setting off all her nerves. Buffy leaned closer into his arms, her nose bumping against his collarbone. “What makes you so sure baby is a girl?”
A deep chuckle rumbled through him and Will slid both hands up her back, deftly unhooking her bra without her noticing. “Just a feeling. “
“Ahuh.” Will distracted her by kissing a line down from her temple to a spot just below her ear. Nipping her skin, he spoke softly, “Stands to reason, is all . . . ‘m already wrapped around her tiny fingers, so. . . . “
“Will, let’s just go home.”
Cool fingers wrapped around her nipples as his mouth found hers. Tongues met, dueling, fighting gently for supremacy. Her small fingers slid past cotton and leather, sliding up his sleek muscles, echoing his own motions on her breasts.
They broke for air, Will trailing kisses over her face, breath cool against her heated skin. “Used to drive me crazy, meeting you out here.”
Nibbling kisses rained over her again, and his restless hands smoothed over her belly, sliding around to clasp her close to him. Strong and hard, his erection grew against her belly and Buffy slid her hand down to cup him. He groaned in her ear, speaking again. “Toughest thing in the world was knowing I could have you an’ not being able to touch you.”
“Oh?” Buffy popped the top button of his jeans, knuckles brushing against his exposed skin.
“Oh yeah, baby. . . . More.” When she slowly pushed the next two buttons through, he fought to maintain some control. “Never wanked so much in m’life. . . . Yeah, like that.”
Her fingers closed around his engorged length, stroking hard. His eyes closed and Will reveled in the contrast between her warm hand and the cool night air. “Wanted you so much.”
“You could have had me you know . . . “ Heavy lidded eyes stared down into hers, searching for the truth. “You weren’t the only one wanting . . . “
“Aaahhh . . . yeah, like that.” His kiss was hungry, urgent now. “Not gonna make it home, if you keep that up, kitten.”
An impish look stole across her face and Buffy tugged him forward, toward the low stone wall encircling the cemetery. “Might not be a bad thing.”
Buffy sat down, hooking her fingers into his waist band, pulling him closer. Her legs opened, ankles sliding around his, trapping him between her thighs.
“Kitten?” Will looked down at the top of her head. His eyes fixed on her. “What’re you. . . . oh fuck.”
Nimble fingers had been unbuttoning him while he spoke and her small hand circled the base of his cock. He was pulsing, twitching from her touch and Will rocked forward, his knees weak.
Her thumb brushed over the head, smearing the drops of pre-cum over it, while her other hand cupped his balls. Stealing a glance up at him, wanting to see what her touch and words did to him, Buffy spoke whisper softly. “I wanted to do this for you . . . so many times, wanted to show you . . . the way you showed me.”
His head was thrown back, one hand fisted at his side, the other tangled in the long locks of her hair. His expression was hidden from her, but she could feel him twitching, holding himself back and see the hot air rising up into the dark skies above them. Encouraged by his response, Buffy squeezed his cock, sweeping her hand up then back down again.
“Christ.” He thrust into her hand, his voice groaning in a barely heard whisper.
His entire body shuddered when she gave into the urge that had been tugging at her for days, her mouth surrounding him and her tongue washing over his cock. “Fuckin’ hell woman.”
Her eyes lit up and she did it again, wrapping her lips around it, giving a hard pull as her tongue swirled around him. Her hand didn’t stop moving, twisting up and down his hard length.
Before Will had a chance to recover, Buffy slid his cock into her mouth, sucking hard.
Will’s fingers, still tangled up in her hair, moved forward, gliding along her cheek, feeling her mouth tense around him. “Aahhh. . . . fuck, baby . . . tha’s it.”
Almost brainless incoherent noises sounded in the crisp air and his entire focus is on what Buffy’s hands and mouth are doing, the feel of her pulling, her tongue circling around his cock.
Her hands gripped his ass, squeezing rhythmically in time with her mouth. His midnight black duster hides her actions, shielding them both from the outside world, narrowing everything down to the two of them.
“Buffy, baby . . . gonna cum. . . . “
Will can feel her smile, her thumb pressing hard against the base of his cock and her teeth raked over his sensitized flesh and he couldn’t hold back, her movements undoing him. He gasps out her name, knees weak and heart thundering in his chest. “Fuck. . . . Oh holy fuck . . . “
Buffy leaned back, her mouth freeing him with a pop, pink tinging her cheeks.
It took him a few minutes to recover, and once his hands stopped trembling, Will hesitantly tucked himself back inside his jeans. As if they were unable to hold him upright any longer, Will’s knees collapsed and he dropped down withing the circle of Buffy’s body. His arms rested around her hips and his head fell naturally on her burgeoning belly.
A little laugh escaped her and he smiled along with her when she spoke. “Guess that was okay.”
He heard the underlying question though, though he couldn’t quite form anything resembling clear thinking. He tried, all the same, to convey his thoughts. “More than . . . okay . . . bloody . . . Fucking. Wonderful.”
“Really?” Just like that her insecurity and youth were laid out for her and Will lifted his head to stare at her.
“Yeah, really, kitten. Am too bloody spent to try an’ lie to you. Not that I would in any case.” He rose to his feet, pulling her up into his arms. “Amazing.”
Her blushed deepened and she ducked her head, hiding against his chest. “Glad you liked it.” Buffy looked away then, trying to keep her composure. “It’s the first time I actually . . . oh . . . never mind.”
Buffy moved away from him, taking the first steps toward home.
“What? First time wha?” Will grabbed for her hand, turning her around to face him. She wouldn’t look at him, but at his insistent tug on her hand, blurted out, “First time I got it right.”
Anger slammed through him – not at her artless confession – but at Finn, who’d obviously done more than just dump her. “Buffy . . . look at me.”
Taking a deep breath and determined to keep this as emotionless as possible, Will said, “He’s a git. There’s no wrong way, unless you’re not with me. You’re my wife an’ whatever you wanna do, however you wan’ to do it is fine by me.”
She hung her head for a moment, then wiped her eyes. “Didn’t mean to get all serious.”
A wide grin stretched his face and he whispered something she didn’t understand. “What’s that? Post coy-whatsis?”
“Post coitus, triste. Latin for after sex, sorrow.” At her affronted look, he scooped her up into his arms. “Course you haven’t had an orgasm yet, but ‘ll remedy that right quick.”
Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling into his hold. “Promise?”
“Oh yeah, kitten, I promise. For tonight an’ always.”
“For the next five or six hundred years?”
“Easily that long.”
She was silent then, content in his arms, her eyes watching him as he carried her home. “Will? I’m really. . . . Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For being my safety. For rescuing me.”
He stopped walking then, to look down at her face. Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, though there was a soft smile playing about her lips. “You saved me, baby.”
She shook her head, unable to speak.
Will loosened his hold on her, letting her feet hit the ground. His arms circled round her, and his mouth settled on hers, all his emotions in the kiss.
“We’re home, kitten, safe and sound. Both of us.”
And they lived happily ever after . . . until the next crisis.
Thank you all. You've been wonderful.