Chapter 19
“You were awfully quiet back there.”
“I was?”
“You hardly said one word,” William said, holding Buffy's hand when he closed the bedroom door behind them. “Were you feeling bashful?”
“No.”
“It's alright if you were; you have a perfectly good reason.”
“I just don't know her,” Buffy admitted. “Tara knows more about me than I do right now and it's creepy.”
“I know more than you do, and I know a hell of a lot more than Tara does as well. Is that creepy?”
“No, it's completely different. You're completely different. You're my husband.”
“She's your friend.”
“You're my best friend.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” she answered with a coy grin. “And please don't start telling me that we'll never be friends because we are friends. We'll never be just friends, I understand that. I know that we'll always be more. We're married; you're the father of my kids. You're supposed to know all about me.”
“So, they're your kids now?”
Buffy ignored the question, playing with and stroking his long fingers. “I remember you, not as much as I should, but…I trust you, William.”
“But you don't trust Tara ?”
“I don't know Tara . I'll trust her if you do. I know you won't leave my kids with just anyone and she does seem nice.”
“She is nice. She's a very nice person.” William placed a kiss on Buffy's forehead before guiding her to the bed. They sat close, side-by-side with their fingers still entwined. “I'd like for you to talk with her, baby. Since Tara did know you before you lost your memory, she might be able to help you recall some things.”
“How long have I known her?”
“Since before the twins were born. Willow introduced us. They were dating at the time.”
“Willow —wait, Willow and Tara were dating?”
“Yeah,” William chuckled. “Red's a lesbian nowadays.”
“Red? My Willow ? Willow, my best friend throughout high school? The one who wanted to marry Xander Harris and had a secret crush on Bill Nye, the Science Guy?”
“Bill who, the science what?”
“What—what about Oz?”
“Oh, baby, that's old news. He cheated. She cried. You let yourself get caught up in all the drama. It was a fucking mess.”
“Where is Willow? Is she nearby?”
“Well, the box of Christmas presents that she sent was posted in Paris. She travels everywhere with her job, but she makes a point to send little gifts to the kids. She's their godmother, you know.”
“No, I didn't know that.”
“Well, now you do.” He kissed her knuckles and placed the hand on her knee. “You're absolutely freaked out now, aren't you, Summers?”
“No, I mean—no, of course not.”
“It's alright. We were all a bit shocked, but people change.”
“Oh, you don't have to tell me that twice.”
“I guess you've been kind of beaten over the head with that concept, haven't you?”
“As of late? Oh, hell yeah. I've changed, you've changed, Willow's had sex with our nanny—has anyone not changed?”
William chuckled, leaning over to kiss her lips. “Would you like your presents now, baby? Would that make you feel better?”
“Yeah. Yes, please.”
“Alright. Just give me a minute.”
“Can I help?”
“I've got it,” he answered, pulling three bags out of their closet.
“Is that all for me?”
“One of them is mine. I believe it's the one measly gift in the small, pathetic-looking sack.”
“Oh shut up, I bet I got you something very nice and very thoughtful.”
“Probably so.” He emptied each bag, stacking all the gifts at the foot of the bed. The presents for Buffy were wrapped in light pastel paper while the single present for William was covered in a dark patterned design.
“Do we have to do this a certain way? By age or—hey, have you ever considered alphabetical order? Just think of how new and exciting that could be--.”
“Open yours first, pet. I don't mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Have at it. You might want to leave the smallest packages for last though.”
“Okay.” With an excited grin she leaned over to give William a line of brief kisses. “Thank you so much, honey.”
“You haven't opened a thing yet. What if you hate it all?”
“I won't.”
“I wouldn't be so quick to--.”
“Just say 'you're welcome' and shut up.”
“Buffy…”
“Do it.”
“You're welcome, but--.”
“Shhh, damn it,” Buffy laughed, kissing him until he stopped trying to speak. “William, I'm not that picky--.”
“You are too.”
“I'll love whatever you give me.”
“I'll only believe that when all your presents have been opened.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, reaching for the biggest box. “God, this is really pretty paper; you’re so good at wrapping. And I'm sure there's no reason to tell you this, but this shade of pink happens to be my favorite color.” Buffy continued to ramble as she opened the box. She pushed aside the tissue paper and cooed. “Oooh, it's gorgeous!”
“Do you really like it? I know tastes can differ from year to year, so I was worried that you might--.”
“I love it!” She held the jacket to her nose and inhaled the black leather. “Awww, it's just like yours. How sweet.”
“Well, yesterday wasn't the first time that you've worn my coat. I'm sure it won't stop you from snagging mine in the future, but now you can have one that fits you better.”
“It's perfect. See? You had nothing to worry about.”
“That's just one down--.”
“Shut up.”
“Yes, dear. Sorry, dear.”
“That's more like it,” Buffy grinned, slipping on the new jacket. “Which should I open next? How about this one? Can I shake it? Will it break?”
“Everything can be safely rattled. I made sure of it.”
“No, you didn't—wait, did you really?”
“Just keep going.”
“Well, if you insist…”
***
“Mmmm…”
“You like that?”
“I love it,” Buffy purred, spraying more perfume on her wrists and rubbing them together. New earrings hung from her ears and two new necklaces were around her neck as she sat in William's lap. “Thank you.”
“It's my pleasure.”
Their lips met and Buffy melted. “You…God, William, you are now officially the best man on the planet.”
“Why is it official now?”
“Because you have amazing fashion sense. The clothes you picked out for me—oh my God, I love you. I don't deserve you.”
“So, all it took was a pair of jeans and some sweaters to make you say the magic words?”
“And the shoes. The shoes are fucking unbelievable.” She touched his mouth again, initiating very slow, very passionate kisses. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
Buffy's jacket fell from her shoulders and her shirt was discarded seconds later. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him hard and groaned, a familiar burning sensation gathering at her core.
“I want you, Buffy.”
“I want you too, but…”
“But?”
“Can you open your present first?”
“What?”
She filled her fists with bleached blonde hair and tugged, bringing his lips away from the curve of her shoulder. “Please?”
“I can wait. It can wait.”
“I know, but I want to know what I got you. I'm dying to know.”
“It's probably a watch…maybe a wallet…”
“I wouldn't do that. That's boring. My mom used to buy my dad boring stuff like that.”
“Maybe you want to keep the tradition alive--.”
“Or maybe we're on our way to getting a divorce.”
“What?”
Buffy reached behind her back, blindly trying to refasten the clasp on her bra. “Impersonal gifts are bad. Can you help me with this?”
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
“How's a watch any different from your earrings? Are your earrings impersonal?”
“No, but--.”
“We're nothing like your parents, Buffy. You know that.”
“I know, but do I really buy you a wallet every year?” she asked with a slight pout.
“Sometimes…sometimes it's every other year. You get me a new wallet whenever I need one, you know? You say I'm too difficult to buy for. I give you ideas, but…” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Alright, I'll open it now.”
Giving up on her bra, Buffy placed it aside and replaced her shirt before handing him the gift. She slipped out of his lap, but stayed close. “Merry Christmas, William,” she whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I hope you like it, whatever it may be. And if it's a wallet, we're returning it.”
“I shouldn’t have said a word,” he chuckled, taking his time to unwrap the present. Every few seconds, he looked up and teased Buffy for using too much packing tape. “Maybe you should get the bloody scissors…”
“Do you think it’s breakable?”
“No, I think you went overboard like usual, but since you can’t remember intentionally trying to drive me mad, I’ll cut you some slack.”
“I do this kind of thing a lot?”
“Every year. You’d think I’d learn, but I never do.” Getting up, he found scissors and tore open the box. “Jesus, Buffy…”
“What is it? Is it something good? Do you like it, honey?”
A smirk crept across his face and he returned to his seat next to Buffy. “There are two things in here: a book and another small box,” he said, pulling out one item at a time. “The book,” he opened the cover and sighed.
“I wrote in it?”
He nodded, running his fingers over Buffy’s short note.
“What kind of book is it?”
“A book I used to have growing up. I lost my copy years ago and it’s out of print. I’ve looked at used book stores, but I’ve never found it.”
“But I did?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how or where, but thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Buffy smiled when he kissed her temple. “What’s in the other box?”
“Why don’t you open it?”
“No, it’s your present.”
“I think this is for both of us,” he said, giving her the black jewelry box. “Open it.”
Buffy shivered when he whispered in her ear. She gave him a sideways glance before opening the box. “Keys? Did I get you a car?”
“It’s a 2001 black Triumph Thunderbird to be exact, but because of your blank look we’ll just call it a bike.”
“Okay…”
“It’s a motorcycle, love.”
“I got you a motorcycle?”
“Looks like it, doesn’t it? Where do you think you hid it?”
“Um, in the garage? We have one don’t we? I’ve never actually seen the front of this house.”
“We’ll have to schedule a tour.”
“So, you wanted this motorcycle?”
“I’ve been begging for a few weeks, but you acted as if you wouldn’t even consider it. Our neighbor’s selling it. It’s in mint condition, good as new.”
“Well, I’m glad I got you something that you wanted.”
“Just imagine: it’d be me and you, traveling down the highway, not in our family-mobile. You’d hold on to me tight as the wind rushed through your hair.”
“It’d be dark and calm out. We’d see lots of stars…oh, and I’d totally be wearing my new jacket.” Buffy sighed dreamily and rested her head on William’s shoulder. “William?”
“Yes?”
“Promise me we won’t turn into cheesy wannabe biker parents.”
“I promise we won’t turn into cheesy wannabe biker parents.”
They shared a laugh that turned quickly turned into a kiss.
“Buffy?”
“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s go.”
“You sure?”
She nodded, reaching for her jacket. “I want to see this nifty bike that I got you. It sounds much better than a wallet.”
“Oh, thank you. I didn’t want to--.”
“It’s okay. Let’s go find your toy, honey.”
***
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm sorry it's late! I have a tiny case of writer's block.