Buffy didn’t know what time it was; only that it was dark. In fact, she was sure she was still a little drunk. And thirty. Oh so thirsty. Stumbling out of bed, and trying not to wake William, she managed to make it to the hall. The room was tilting a bit due to her slight drunkenness and exhaustion. She just needed about oh, a gallon of water and she’d be good.
“Buffy? What are you doing?”
She stopped and turned to see William standing in the hall, shirtless, with his hair spiked from sleep. He was rubbing his eyes.
“You’re so cute, William,” she told him.
He stopped rubbing his eyes and dropped his hands. “You still drunk?”
“I think so, why?”
He shook his head. “What are you doing?”
“I need water.”
“Thirsty huh?”
“I feel like I’ve been chewing on sawdust.”
“That’s what happens when you drink an entire bar.”
She giggled at that, “Most of the bar was in Faith’s jacket.”
“Dare I ask?”
“You can. Over water,” and she started back down the hall. William followed close behind.
“I’ll get you some ice water,” he told her once they entered the kitchen. “How’s the head?”
“Okay,” she mumbled and yawned and jumped up on the counter, perching next to the sink and watching William move about.
“Will?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you really not mad at me or were you just humoring me because I was drunk?”
He looked at her as he plopped ice cubes in her tall glass of water, frowning slightly, “You’re still a little drunk. Do you really want to have this conversation now?”
She shrugged, “Just tell me. Are you?”
“I’m . . . concerned.”
“Why?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Are you kidding? Buffy, you called me from outside a bar – bar that you are not old enough to be in, but had been in and you were crying and drunk . . . How was I not supposed to be worried? Not to mention you had a scratch mark – which you still have—across your face from that bitch Faith and it appeared that you’d been walking all over Boston going into other bars you weren’t supposed to be going into and you got sick.”
“And I smoked,” she added.
He handed her the glass and looked at her sternly, “And you smoked.”
She shrugged,” You smoke,” she pointed out. She guzzled the cool liquid down quickly. And wanted more. William took the glass and filled it back up, handing it back to her.
“If this is what you consider a break from me, then I have to tell you, I’m not liking it.”
After that glass was done, she set it down and considered him. “I did have fun until the end there.”
His eyes bugged, “You had fun? You were doing something very illegal and dangerous Buffy.”
“Yeah, but . . . I felt free. For once, I didn’t worry about the rules and the proper way to conduct myself—“
“Because you were drunk!” he exclaimed. “Of course all your inhibitions were gone!”
“Will, the point was to go out and have a girl’s night. I didn’t know when it started that’d it end the way it did. I probably won’t do it again like that—“
“You better not!”
She scowled at him, “You’re not my father.”
“No, but I’m your boyfriend still, right?”
She averted her eyes and nodded.
“And as your boyfriend, I want to keep you safe and here with me. God, Buffy, don’t you know the kind of trouble you could have gotten into if some fuck head decided he wanted to mess with you?” He stood before her, spreading her knees so he could stand between her legs. Reaching out, he pushed her hair back and gazed at her, a pained expression on his beautiful face. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, kitten.” He traced the scratch mark with his finger, “What if you got more than that?”
“I didn’t.”
“You could have.”
“But I didn’t. I just said I’m not going to do that again, but . . . isn’t that all part of the journey here Will? You told me about all the stupid things you did when you were my age—and younger. I’ve never done stupid things. Unless you count cheerleading. I’m twenty years old, you think this is bad? Wait until I turn twenty one!”
“You want to drink? Fine, then at least do it in a safe environment. With me.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m not going to do that again. Not to say I won’t go to a party or get shit faced again–“
“Were you trying to make me feel better?” he asked sarcastically.
“No, I’m not. I’m telling you how it is Spike. I’m telling you that going out tonight was fun up until Larry’s. I’m telling you that yeah, I realize it was stupid and I probably wouldn’t have done that had I been sober, but I did it nonetheless and here I am. Alive and safe. And you did stupid things when you were my age and you can look back on them now and say ‘Wow, that was dumb and maybe a little dangerous’, but at least you did them. I want to live a little, act my age for Christ’s sake. I don’t want to be locked up in some ivory tower because you’re worried.”
His jaw was clenching and unclenching again and Buffy knew that wasn’t a good sign. Just like that all the fight left her and she felt completely drained. She slid from the counter and took his hand in hers. “Will, I don’t want to argue anymore. Doesn’t it mean something that I came to you?”
He snorted, “You just didn’t want to have to call Mommy and Daddy to come get you.”
”I didn’t even think of them Will. I puked and wanted you.”
“I’m not really sure how to take that . . . “
She wrinkled her nose, “That did sound funny. I do know that when Faith was ragging on you and our relationship I defended you. I defended us.”
“Is there an us, Buffy?” he asked softly.
“Yes, there is.”
“How much? Just enough to give you your freedom and let you come in and out of my life?”
“No, that’s not how it is—“
”Because I love you Buffy, so much. And I don’t want just pieces of you when you decide you want me or need me.”
”You have more than pieces,” she said softly, “I think you have more than you realize. More than I realize if that makes any sense.”
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “What was Faith saying about us? About me?”
Buffy wrinkled her nose at the memory. “She called you old. She said you were just saying you loved me to get me in bed.”
He scowled, “I really don’t like her.”
“I didn’t listen though. I told her she didn’t know anything about us and that you were a wonderful man.”
“But you don’t love me.”
“Will—“
He held up a hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t give me the song and dance, I’ve heard it all before.”
“You were okay with this the other night,” she said quietly, looking down. “I don’t know what to do. Do you want to break up?”
“No,” he said roughly and pulled her into his arms. “No, I don’t . . . Buffy, I couldn’t . . . “
“I don’t want to hurt you, William. And I am and –“
He shut her up by kissing her fervently. He rested his forehead against hers, panting slightly. “It’d hurt more to leave you, Buffy. I can’t do that. It’s not something I’m capable of.”
“Then what do we do? How do we make this work?”
“We’ll find a way. I promise we will. Look, it’s early and we’re both tired, you’re still a little drunk—“
”I think I sobered up somewhere in there.”
He smiled, “Nonetheless. We’ll go to bed, get some rest and sleep on it okay?”
She nodded, “Okay.”
Leading her back to bed, they lay together in the dark, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her, stroking her back.
“Will?” she whispered, starting to nod off again.
“Yes, baby?”
“I do need you.”
“That’s something then isn’t it?”
“Yes, I do believe it is.”
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