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Chapter 32

“I feel like I’m a burden, an inconvenience. Buffy, I’m a pest.”

“You are none of those things.”

“Tara wouldn’t let me stay with her. Maybe I shouldn’t even be here. I should get a hotel.”

“Did you tell Tara you wanted to stay with her? Did you come out and just ask to stay on the couch? Or maybe you don’t want to stay on her couch,” Buffy added after a pause. “How are things between you and Tara? How is the long distance thing treating you guys?”

Willow hesitated, her face wrinkled. She took a deep breath, let it out, and shrugged. “Fine.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that, after all those dramatics?” Buffy let out a little laugh. She had just finished putting fresh sheets on Willow’s bed. Willow was standing next to her with a pillow hugged to her chest. After a family outing to the Magic Box and McDonald’s, they had returned home. Instead of working on spells and potions, they made a collective decision to turn in early. Tara went home with a few books under her arm and Willow remained. She had helped Buffy entertain the kids while William divided his time between finding a home for the magical ingredients that he wouldn’t allow in the house and drooling over his motorcycle. All three of them had put the kids to bed and now Buffy was able to give undivided attention to her best friend. She sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her. “Want to talk about it?”

“There isn’t much to say.” Willow sat and instantly started to chew on her lower lip. “When I’m a million miles away we get along great. Well, we’re still getting along now, but… We seem to be more affectionate when there’s distance between us and it doesn’t make much sense. When you write about how much you want to be touchy-feely with someone, but then you do next to nothing when you’re standing face-to-face, it isn’t a good feeling, Buffy.”

“It makes you doubtful?”

“Yes! Doubt! I have a ton of that!” Willow blurted out. “I have doubt coming out of my ears and I hate it!”

“Okay, I see where you’re coming from,” Buffy laughed. “Mixed signals can be very dangerous. For William and me, in our early days after the shooting, our relationship changed drastically from one minute to the next. If we were in public, I’d still threaten to pop him in the nose. If we were away from prying eyes…and even if those prying eyes had just stepped out of the room for a minute or two…I’d be much more interested in popping, you know, other parts of his anatomy.”

“Oh God, Buffy. Tara and I aren’t—you know. We haven’t left PG-PG13 territory since--.”

“It doesn’t matter. Well, it matters, but—Will, I cared about William, I wanted him, but I held back. I was defending myself. It was self-preservation.”

“But you still had lots and lots of sex. I’m not sure you guys understand the meaning of holding back.”

“It was emotional. I had walls—I had big nasty barriers and the shooting made me so much more cautious. I let him in, but wouldn’t let him go deep. Being with him wasn’t such a big deal for a few reasons. One, I craved the contact. Whether we were fighting or humping in our patrol car, I needed him. And, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere. I could insult him, scold him and send him so many signals that would drive a-a signal-controller-man crazy, but I knew he wouldn’t get in a plane and leave. Think about your last visit; how hard was it to say goodbye? Also, think about this: let’s say you have a really really good carton of ice cream—.”

“Oh, it’s time for one of Buffy’s famous food metaphors? Yay me…not really.”

“Hush,” Buffy grinned. “This ice cream is so good, you drool a little when you think about it. You can’t wait to get your hands on it, but once you have it, you hesitate, right? It’s just one carton. If you get carried away it’ll be gone in no time. You could get more, but—God, the store’s on the other side of the freaking planet! Seriously, it’s miles and miles away, in a completely different country. So maybe you take a scoop or two off the top just to get a taste, but then you store it away. You hoard it until you know it’s safe to indulge. Because it’d be awful, to indulge, to thoroughly enjoy yourself, because it’d be gone and then you’d be left with nothing but a craving. And to crave so bad you ache day after day? It’d be awful.”

“But what if you never have it? Would you just keep it until it develops freezer burn? It could expire!”

“Exactly, and wouldn’t that be a shame? If it were me, especially at this point in my life, I wouldn’t let anything keep me from what I wanted. I’d down the whole damn carton. I’d go broke on the cost of plane tickets and from the grocery store prices.”

Willow gave her lip one more thoughtful nibble. “But think of all the frequent flyer miles you’d rack up.”

“Uh huh, and some grocery stores will even give you a break on gas if you buy a certain dollar amount of groceries. I should know, you’re talking to a thrifty-mom shopper here.”

“Thanks, Buffy.”

“If you need a ride, I know William’s just dying to take someone on his bike.”

“I think I’ll stay tonight. You went to all this trouble setting up my room.”

“Pfft. And you wonder why you’ve got freezer burn.” With a wink, Buffy stood and headed for the door. “It’s nothing to put clean sheets on a bed. If you were to go to Tara, saying you forgot your toiletry bag, and, after a lot of fruitless looking, said it was too late to drive all the way back here, you wouldn’t have to worry about no one sleeping in these clean sheets. In fact, William and I would be more than happy to dirty them up for you.”

“Buffy,” Willow began, a blush coloring her cheeks. “I couldn’t ask William to drive me.”

“No? Hold that thought.” Buffy ran down the hallway to the front door. In the dark, she tried to fish out the right set of keys from the bowl on the little table in the entryway.

“Make sure she remembers what side of the road to drive on.” Startled by his voice, Buffy stumbled backward into William’s hard body. Cupping her elbows, William kept her steady. “Off your game, baby? Or are we just too carried away playing cupid?”

“My game is just fine and as for the cupid stuff—William, what the heck are you doing sneaking around in the shadows? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I was on my way to the kitchen. Guess you could say I had a hankering for ice cream.”

“You were spying on us?” Buffy spun out of his hold, more amused than upset. “How much did you hear?”

“Dear Abby couldn’t have done it better.”

“You really think so? I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. It was tough telling her that Tara is still hung up on her without, you know, saying: ‘Will, wake up and smell the obvious.’ She can be so clueless, but Tara shouldn’t think freezing her out is the answer to their--.”

“Sweet, I hate to cut you off, but you shouldn’t keep our houseguest waiting.”

“Oh. You’re right,” Buffy blinked. Even in the dark, she knew he was smiling at her. “It is okay that she takes the car tonight, right?”

“Tell her to have it back here tomorrow.”

“Sure you don’t want to set a curfew?”

“Tell her I expect the car by noon. That fair enough?”

“Very. Thanks, dad.” Leaning forward, she brushed a kiss onto his cheek. “Just let me give her the keys. Then, afterwards…”

“We’ll dirty up the sheets?”

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop. It’s rude.”

“Is that a ‘no’ then?”

“No way.”
***

“These sheets are so,” Buffy inhaled sharply, “not comfy. They almost make me want to put my clothes back on.” She lay with her legs spread wide, William nestled between them, throbbing, pushed deep inside; nothing short of an apocalypse could make her break apart from her husband. Putting her clothing back on would not be an option until morning. “I got ‘em because they matched the comforter so well. Pretty, however, does not make up for a low-thread count.”

“Nice take-home message.” William grunted as she pulled on his ears, bringing his head up to kissing-distance. She wrapped her legs around him tight, giving him a few hard squeezes before flipping them over. Grabbing his wrists, she swept his arms overhead. Mouth fused to his, she ground against him in a slow, steady pace.

“The headboard is nice though,” she continued breathlessly.

“Not as solid as ours. Has…potential.”

“Yes,” Buffy answered. “God, yes.” Fingers were biting into her hips. Her body was starting to quake.

“You just had to get it in white though.”

“Huh?” she gasped, seeing stars as he rolled them over again.

“The wrought iron gives you something to hold on to. But we still can’t use the cuffs. The paint’ll chip.”

“Handcuffs…best…job perk…ever.”

“You might want to hold on now, baby.”

“Mmmm…do I have to?” She was more than happy sweeping her hands along his skin, over his quivering muscles. “Holding on’s for wimps. I can take it.”

“That a challenge?”

Before she could answer, he began pump in and out of her at a pace so fast it made her scream. “Oh my God!” she said, frantically trying to keep her voice low as she lost control of the rest of her body to a violent orgasm. “William! Sorry, sorry. Sorry, honey, I,” she closed her eyes tight and babbled until William covered her mouth with a wild kiss. With grabby hands, she sought out his hair and pulled.

“It’s alright. It’s fine,” William mumbled once he collapsed, spent. He took a moment to nuzzle her shoulder before readjusting them one last time. Keeping her close and their bodies still connected, he rolled onto his back. “The babies can’t handle you crying out, perks up their little eagle ears, but I doubt they can hear us from upstairs. But then again, you were a tad more unruly than usual.”

“You really think so? Maybe we should spend the night downstairs more often.”

“Maybe, but the sheets have to go.”

“I know, right?”

“And when I say to hold on to something, why can’t you do that for me, pet? Do you really want me bald?”

“Sorry,” she laughed. “I can’t resist it. What pretty hair you have.” To prove her point, she stroked the hair above his ear. “It’s a marvel, really. You put so much goop in it, but it’s still pretty darn silky smooth.”

“Jealous?”

“Hmm, mmm,” she nodded.

“Sleepy, love?”

“Hmm, mmm.”

Barely two hours later, Buffy woke from a sound sleep with an exaggerated groan. A cell phone was ringing and it was annoying her. It caused the warm body spooned behind her to move and that annoyed her further. She agreed with every soft-spoken curse William made as he stumbled across the foreign guestroom in the dark.

“It never fails. We were lucky until now. Does ‘on vacation’ mean nothing to these people?”

She opened one eye, taking in the shadowy, but still pleasant view of William digging through their discarded clothes for the phone. “If it’s important, they’ll call the landline. Come back to bed.”

“Hello? Hello? What a fucking-vile piece of--.”

The landline rang and Buffy rolled toward the nightstand. “Hello?” she said, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. “Faith? God, this had better be good. We’ve only been asleep for—what?” As she listened, William blinded her by turning on the light. Where their room had softer lighting and dimmer switches, the guestroom had one overhead light attached to the ceiling fan and it was bright enough to make her eyes water. Hissing, she rolled into her pillow. “Keep talking. How much time do we have? Alright. He’ll be there in less than twenty. No, I can’t go with him. I can give you three reasons why. Shut up, Faith. Keep me updated.”

“What is it?” William’s pants were already on. He was tugging his shirt over his head.

“Somebody called in one of Angel’s cars and apparently we’ve hit the jackpot. Reckless driving. Speeding over a hundred. He blew over twice the legal limit. The car was allegedly involved in a hit-and-run. She’s making an arrest. She’ll put off booking him until you get there. She’ll circle the lot if she needs to.”

“You think this is because of the witches? He’s never been his stupid before.”

“I have no idea.”

“I gotta get my shoes.”

Rolling out of bed, she quickly scooped up her clothes, along with his discarded phone, and hugged them to her naked body as she followed him up the stairs. “Maybe I could come with you. I could call Tara--.”

“We have no time to wait.”

“How about a neighbor? Mister—um, the old guy from across the street?” William stopped suddenly and she crashed into his back. “There’s also um—damn it, I can’t remember her name! Little Frankie’s mom? She’s the brunette with hair past her shoulders? We saw her at the neighborhood trick-or-treat party. I might be able to--.” Buffy blinked and suddenly William’s hand was cupping her chin. She took a deep breath and met his intense stare head-on.

He held up a finger, opened his mouth and then closed it. There was a hint of a flare to his nostrils. He took a deep breath of his own.

His hands lowered and his jaw remained set. “I need my bloody shoes,” he grumbled, walking into their bedroom. “And get dressed, will you?”

Kicked in overdrive, Buffy pulled on her clothes while she dialed out on William’s cell phone. On the second ring, William informed her that he was leaving. “But-but--.”

“Don’t. Don’t pout. Don’t speak.” He yanked her forward for a hard kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hold on! Um, please hold?” Buffy told Tara, cutting her off, before she could get out a full ‘hello.’ With her hand covering the receiver, she followed William to the front door and out to where the motorcycle was parked in the garage.

“We might not be able to hold him, remember that.”

She nodded. “Did you grab my cell? Baby, we should swap before you go.”

William surprised her by rolling his eyes. “Keep it. We’ll swap ‘em out at the station. I’ll see you in what—twenty minutes?”

Buffy couldn’t hold back a little excited jump as William revved the motorcycle’s engine. Running toward him, she gave him a quick but enthusiastic kiss. “I’ll be there in ten.”
***





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