A/N: Thank you Dusty273 for your help sweety, *huge hugs*. Long time, no write... I know. Clearing government issued housing, closing on the sale of a new house, arranging movers and packers and cleaners – OH MY – from one place to the next while trying to maintain some sense of order and stability for my children with the transition has been hectic... to say the very least. Thanks to my dear friend Jolynn for announcing I was under the weather for me to our shared readers and for the basket of goodies she sent me while recovering. I especially want to thank all those who sent their well wishes to me during that time. I chose elective plastic surgery roughly two weeks ago (I know, sounds stupid amidst all the craziness that is my life) and have been on some serious pain meds since (can’t write worth a damn on them). For those wondering, I removed ‘Her majesty’s Guard’ upon the suggestion of a friend as she thought it perfect for a first-ever attempt at e-publishing a story. It’s a personal goal of mine to try and do as such and of course, if anyone is interested, when that story is finished, I’ll let you all know. I’m far behind answering reviews and of course, will seek to get caught up. I’ll start, however, by answering any reviews I get for this latest chapter first for those that are still following TE. Thanks so much for your understanding. It hasn’t been the easiest of last few weeks for me. Smooches.
Buffy had made numerous phone calls to see if she could get a doctor’s appointment or if there was a clinic open but alas, as it was Saturday now, she would have to wait. Come Monday, priority number one was getting herself tested for everything under the sun. Then she’d cross her fingers until the results came back.
“...I swear... ...please believe me... ...trust me...”
That’s what he’d said, repeatedly, ever since she met him. He kept asking her to trust him. She snorted at that. Well, trust went both ways. He obviously didn’t trust her enough to tell her the reason he became an escort. And she was pretty sure she knew the reason why, too. That reason became clear when she spoke with Harmony last night. It was because he was still busy... still doing what, or rather who, he had to make money.
Gone was any reason to ever trust him again as well as her desire to know his reasons, his goal.
“Morning. Sorry I’m late.”
Anya startled her from her thoughts. Glancing at her watch, she noticed more than half the morning was gone. Anya wasn’t just a little late; she was more than two hours late. This was strange coming from a girl who valued money second only to a good orgasm but since she’d abandoned her friend, forced her to find her own ride home from LA; she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it.
“Anya, about last night, I’m... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I was just so...” She shrugged at her, knowing there was no good excuse other than she was angry at the time. Anya waived a hand dismissively as if it were no big deal. As expected, though, Anya asked about last night.
“Wanna talk about it?” As expected, Buffy shook her head. Anya felt she needed to know what she knew though. “Didn’t think so. Just so you know... I had a nice, LONG chat with Spike after you left.” She knew what she was going to suggest wouldn’t go over well. “He’s in love with you, Buffy and desperate. He knows he messed up and he’s ready to tell you whatever you want to know. So whenever you’re ready... you really need to hear him out.”
“Nooooooo... I don’t.” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and stared at nothing in particular. “I’m not interested in ANYTHING he has to say.”
“But you don’t-”
“Don’t what?” It was upsetting that Anya sounded like she was siding with Spike yet again. “Have all the facts? Know everything about his situation? Should give him a chance to explain? No,” she said firmly. “He’s had plenty of opportunities to tell me and he chose not to.”
“You’re right. He did. And you’ll be happy to know I tore him a new breathing hole for it, too.” Buffy chuckled at this, lightening the mood between them. “But you should still talk to him.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know you mean well but honestly... I just want to move on with my life.” Anya opened her mouth to protest so she held up a hand and added, “I don’t want to discuss it anymore. I’ve made up my mind.”
Anya wanted to come right out and tell her what she’d managed to wheedle out of the two men last night but chose to hold her tongue. True, neither man told her what Spike was working so hard to buy but they told her enough that she believed Buffy was making a huge mistake pushing him away like this. She nodded then stood.
Stopping by the door, she couldn’t help commenting. “You may hate me for saying this but I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t tell you that one day... you’re going to regret letting him go.”
Buffy regretted a lot of things she’d done in her life so Anya’s words had no effect on her. The only thing she regretted right now was ever having filled out that damn questionnaire that led her to meet Spike in the first place.
Getting up to make herself a cup of coffee, she decided to do whatever it took to keep all thoughts of Spike off her mind, keep him out of her head so she could get on with the business of day to day living.
Cup in hand, she left the quiet of her office to occupy herself out on the floor working, telling herself if she were ever to get involved with another man again he would be nice and normal. Someone with a regular job and a regular personality, who wore regular clothes versus all black and leather, drove a car rather than a motorcycle... someone she would have more in common with. Yes. That was the safest path for her to take. Find someone nice, normal and... dull. The sooner the better, too.
Taking a sip of her coffee, she instantly spewed it back into the cup and coughed. It tasted awful from having sat too long.
“Are you quite alright?”
She turned to find the charming British patron from yesterday, fumbling for a handkerchief from the pocket of his tweed jacket to hand her with a look of concern. Someone like him.
“Thank you.” She coughed twice more. “I’m fine. The coffee tastes... ewww. Burnt.” She set it aside. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. ...” Damn! What was his name again?
“Please. Call me Wesley.”
“Wesley.” She smiled. Seemed her thoughts were being handed to her in the form of a customer who’d left his number as an open invitation. “I have your things set aside if you’d like me to help you carry them out to your car?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
He was cute, granted in a nerdy sort of way but at least he was the complete opposite of Spike.
“Uhmm, about going for coffee sometime?”
“Yes?”
“If the offer is still good, I’m free this afternoon.” Having coffee was harmless and besides, it would keep her from dwelling over the other Englishman for awhile.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was Thursday now and William spent the last five days beating himself up for not having taken Lorne’s advice and just told Buffy the entire truth from the start.
He’d only wanted to wait until he was a legitimate businessman, wait until he’d severed all ties that had anything to do with Lorne’s ‘other’ business so she couldn’t use that as a reason to not want to be with him. Timing was everything, he was convinced of it. Well, he was right, only the timing had been poor and his decision had cost him in the form of one daft bint named Harmony Kendall and her big mouth.
It was pointless to waste a second wondering how the two blondes knew each other. He couldn’t blame Harmony for what happened, couldn’t truly blame Buffy for believing her either. The only person to blame was himself. Whatever it took, he had to get Buffy to listen, had to make things right.
... I can’t believe I ever loved you.
She loved him! She said the words. He refused to accept or even acknowledge she used the past tense. A person didn’t love somebody one day and then turn their feelings off the next like a faucet. This is what gave him all the hope he needed. He would never give up. His perseverance would pay off and when it did, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her if that’s what she wanted.
His fingers dialed the gallery’s number, knowing Buffy would more than likely be at work.
“Summers Gallery, Elizabeth speaking,” Buffy answered.
“Buffy,” he hesitated, his voice sticking in his throat, not really knowing what to say. “Buffy, I need to see you.”
She instantly knew who it was. “I told you I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”
“Buffy, please. I-” The phone went dead, she’d hung up on him. Frustrated, he hit redial. She answered after the first ring.
“I’ll tell you everythin’, pet, right n-” She did it again. “FUCK!!!” he screamed then threw the phone across the room. She was so damn stubborn. Seems he’d have to try another approach since she wouldn’t speak to him.
His thoughts wandered to showing up at the gallery or her house, corner her to where she couldn’t get away but of course, that had too much potential to go wrong and produce an undesirable result. Buffy was a person who liked to have control, had to do things in her own way and in her own time. That’s when an idea sprung to mind. Getting up from his couch, he walked to where his abused phone lay and picked it up, dialed Lorne and set about getting what he needed from him in order to facilitate his plan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy had thirty minutes before meeting Wesley for dinner.
Their afternoon spent at the local coffee-house chatting over art proved pleasant. He was gentlemanly, charming, good looking, intelligent and their mutual love of art made for easy conversation. When asked if he could see her again, she agreed but held off calling him to make plans until Tuesday when her test results had indeed come back negative for any STD’s.
Truthfully, she felt only a mild attraction towards him and that was, actually, perfect. Mild attraction meant no feelings on her part if they did become ‘involved’ at some point and to whatever degree, whether they wound up dating or just became lovers. Yes, he was the perfect distraction as their Tuesday evening get-together at the same coffee house was another pleasant encounter that led him to ask her out to dinner.
She changed her clothes and freshened her make-up before heading downstairs to go through the day’s mail. When she walked into the kitchen and passed by the phone, the message light was blinking red. Hitting ‘play’, she went to walk away when the familiar voice on the recording machine stopped her.
“I know you don’ want to talk to me so please jus’ listen. Tha’s all I ask, pet. I didn’ lie to you when I said I hadn’ slept with Harmony but I understand why you think I-”
She hit the ‘delete’ button without a second thought. No way was she going to listen to him anymore. Though he still haunted her dreams, she’d managed a small measure of success in ousting him from her thoughts during the day. Listening to whatever he’d said into her machine right now was the last thing she needed. He’d made her feel, something she hadn’t wanted to do in the first place and knew he’d say whatever he had to make her feel something now. As long as she kept him at a distance, refused to let him near her in any way, it was only a matter of time before she was completely over him and he would be forced to give up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“... it isn’... hasn’ been ‘bout sex for quite some time now. If tha’s all I wanted I wouldn’ have given up bein’ a prostitute. You surround me, make me feel like a man, make me want to be a better man, someone you WANT to be with, pet.” He paused, becoming choked with emotion. “`M done now, Buffy, through workin’ for Lorne where his business is concerned. I don’ want to explain anythin’ in a bleedin’ message so I’ll give you my number. Please call, Buffy. If you ever loved me... like you said last Friday then please, baby... call me.”
He proceeded to leave her with his home number and cell to be sure she could reach him then hung up.
Lorne offered to forget the rest of the bodyguard jobs Spike had to perform to finish paying for Grisanti’s but William refused. He’d made it this far already, wanted to honor the original bargain and did so. His last job was two nights ago and Lorne had the restaurant paper work ready for him to sign tonight, much earlier than originally anticipated. He would have, should have been filled with happiness over having achieved his goal but there was no joy to be found in his personal victory. The only thing that would restore any amount of happiness is if Buffy called. He wanted to tell her in person about the restaurant but was willing to tell her over the phone if she called... anything to get her back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She never called. Not that day or the next. William was beside himself. He’d never known such an emotional low as this. His heart ached so bad that Spike’s suggestion became increasingly tempting... to just go to her and make her listen.
He tried again, via phone, to get through to her, leaving her another message since she didn’t pick up, not even caring how desperate he sounded.
“`M goin’ bloody crazy here, Buffy. I miss your smile, your... touch. God knows I fucked up, pet and `m so sorry. I would never hurt you, surely you must know that?” His hand nervously ran through his hair, down his face then waived about as if she were standing there in front of him while he spoke. “All I want is the chance to tell you what I promised. Please give me that chance, baby, please let me keep my promise to you. Then if you want nothin’ to do with me I’ll... go away.” Inside he knew he’d do no such thing, not unless she proved to him he meant absolutely nothing to her. But that wouldn’t happen; he was sure of it. “If you can find it in your heart to meet me tonight, I just want the chance to tell you everythin’. You deserve to know. I’ll make it easy on you, too. We can meet in a public place. I’ll-I’ll...” His mind instantly came up with and idea, one he was sure would help to back him up. “I’ll be at that restaurant Grisanti’s at seven tonight. `M beggin’ you to please show up. You don’ even have to say anythin’ after I’ve explained, jus’ listen and-and... if you get up and leave after that, I won’ follow you, I’ll... I’ll let you go.” He couldn’t say ‘I promise’ because he knew he couldn’t. “Okay, I guess tha’s... tha’s it. Please come, Buffy. `S the last thing I’ll ever ask of you.” He was about to hang up when he added one last thing. “Oh, and PS......... I love you.”
Silently, he hung up the phone. He prayed to whatever forces were listening for her to show. He’d be at the restaurant anyways and had plenty of co-workers there to confirm Grisanti’s was under his ownership.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“It’s so slow right now that I really don’t need you here, Anya. You can take off if you want.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She immediately reached for her purse then caught the baffled look on Buffy’s face.
“Really? I thought you loved to make money?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love making lots and lots of it but my plans this afternoon to have many orgasms can now be bumped up by several hours.” She grinned and winked.
“The flower delivery boy?” She’d been acting kinda... strange all week. Strange as in not mentioning anything about the subject of sex or orgasms at all. Just much happier about getting off work, almost anxious.
“Nope. Found a real man for once and I’m sticking with him.”
“Care to share?” It was Buffy’s turn to grin. This was certainly a first for her friend.
“For once, I think I’m going to keep the details to myself. But I’ll let you know when I’m sure.”
“Sure? Sure about what?”
“Sure that it’s... permanent.” Buffy giggled and said ‘fine, have a good time’ before Anya left.
Hey, if Anya found someone she could be happy with on a permanent basis that was saying something about the caliber of the mystery man. She sighed. She herself had a date tonight, with Wesley. Their dinner went well on Thursday and it seemed they had a mutual, personal interest in each other. She hoped that when he finally made a move, other than escorting her with an arm to the small of her back, or holding her hand when they’d went for a walk afterwards, that he’d be some kind of wildcat in the sack. He was just so, so proper in his conduct around her that she hoped when they finally ‘got together’, he’d be anything but.
After another boring hour at work, she finally closed shop and went home.
“`M goin’ bloody crazy here, Buf-” she hit ‘delete’ as soon as she realized who the message was from. She thought about calling Spike back, telling him to stop phoning her but it might encourage him.
You’re such a bitch.
Yup! Who cares what her inner self thought?
You do! Or else I wouldn’t be talking right now. I mean hello, he really wants to tell you the what’s-what and meanwhile you’re gallivanting around town nearly every night with some idiot you know will never measure up to William. And for once I’m not talking about the appendage between his legs.
Well there’s a first. She could hear the ‘huff’ of annoyance from her conscience.
Fine. When it’s too late...don’t complain to me when your dreams get even worse.
Buffy tried to block those dreams from her waking mind. They were already getting worse... William, begging and pleading with her that he was a good man, that they belonged together... that he loved her. She refused to admit to herself that she wasn’t over him yet, too determined that by spending time with Wesley would eventually make her forget.
“That’s the plan,” she said to herself. And maybe tonight was the night, or if it wasn’t, she would make it tonight.
Now who’s acting like a whore?
Shut the fuck up!
So what if she slept with Wesley? If that didn’t work then fine... whatever. She had nothing to lose by trying and God help her, Mr. Gordo was going through more batteries lately.
She had a few hours to relax and soak in the tub before she met up with him. They were going to LA today to an art showing he had an invitation to. After that, they were going to dinner and the ballet. She’d mentioned to him she’d never been and he’d promptly purchased tickets, saying she was sure to fall in love with it once she had.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seven o’clock rolled around and William was nervous. He thought he’d never prayed harder in his entire life that Buffy would come walking through the restaurant door. Nearly every five minutes, he would come out of the kitchen to see if she’d arrived, occasionally going from table to table to talk with the customers along with Antonio, who was still staying on for a few more days until they’d hired another apt chef to replace him.
When they closed up for the night, he was so crestfallen that Antonio questioned him as to what was wrong, his Italian accent thick and full of understanding.
“It t’is a woo-man, is it not, my young friend, eh?” William shook his head. “Ahhhh, you cannot-a-fool me. Eeet’s a-written all over your face. What-EVAR your feelings are for this-a woo-man... you need to-a tell her.”
“`S not that easy. You don’ know her, she’s... stubborn. Ignorin’ every message I’ve left on her phone.”
“Ahhhh, that’s-a your problem right there. You must-a face her, make her-a see your love for her. In my country, a woo-man would consider using the phone cowardly.” He waited for him to say something but William just stared off into space. “Trust me. You will not-a rest until she hears the words from your own-a lips. Go to her, my friend. Go and make-a her understand.”
William nodded his head while inside Spike jumped up and down, agreeing with the portly chef.
“Maybe... no, you’re right.” He glanced down at the books and the money made tonight as it lay in piles of ones, fives, tens...
“Don’t-a-worry. I’ll take care of this. You go.” He smiled when William thanked him before taking off in a hurry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike reached Buffy’s street in no time flat despite the distance her house was from Grisanti’s. She wouldn’t appreciate being cornered like this but at this point, what choice did he have? She had to know the truth; he simply couldn’t rest until she did.
As he pulled up alongside the curb, he noticed another car in her driveway. It was well after eleven o’clock. Taking his helmet off after putting the kick-stand down, he had a bad feeling in his gut. What if this wasn’t one of her female friends, what if she had another man at her house? He walked cautiously towards her porch, his worst fears rising up to cause panic. No, it couldn’t be. His girl wasn’t like that. There was no way she’d run into the arms of another man so soon after...
It had been the perfect day, the perfect date. Everything from the art showing to dinner to the ballet went so well. They’d exchanged small touches here and there, sat a little closer to one another, Buffy just knew tonight was the night.
Wesley waited like a gentleman to be invited inside her house since he’d driven them to and from LA. Now, in the foyer, they stood there staring at each other after she thanked him for such a wonderful evening.
“Buffy, I... I hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries here but...”
He didn’t finish his sentence, letting Buffy know he was thinking the same thing she was. She walked up to him and placed an arm around his neck, drawing him into a lip lock that quickly escalated into a heated, open-mouthed kiss while his hands began roaming every curve her body had.
William couldn’t believe what he was seeing as his eyes took in the image beyond the small square of window on her door. The way Buffy was kissing another man... another man!!! He blinked several times, willing the image to go away, not trusting his eyes. But there she was, being kissed, groped by another man and clearly enjoying it. When her own hands began wandering his body, William squeezed his eyes shut again, his heart hitting his throat before sinking to his stomach.
This was proof enough. Proof he’d meant nothing to her. To be in the arms of another man... and so soon, too. Naturally his first instinct was to break down the door and beat the bloke to a bloody pulp, but what good would it do? She’d made her decision, made it obvious, since she didn’t know he was watching, that he wasn’t what she wanted.
Utterly heart broken, he turned away from the door and made his way back to his bike.
How? How was he ever, ever going to get over this... her? Would he ever be able to love again? As he loved her? He didn’t care. Right now he couldn’t care if he ever did... love again that is. To love meant nothing if it wasn’t returned in equal measure. And in this case, it was obvious that her love hadn’t been as strong as his... she was with someone else... and so soon after him.
This was surely his punishment. It was cosmic justice for his sins. Just when he thought he’d gotten everything he ever wanted in life, he lost the one thing that mattered most. Without her, owning Grisanti’s meant nothing.
He wasn’t sure what to do right now, having never felt so-so... lost in all his life. Time. Yes, it would definitely take time... a lot of it but he needed something to help get him through this dark chapter of his life. As he sped through the streets on his motorcycle, thinking of nothing else but getting home and getting drunk, it occurred to him what he needed to do.
Leave. He needed to leave. Put some distance between himself and all that would remind him of Buffy. As soon as he made it to his place, he would call Lorne and Antonio despite the hour, make arrangements as necessary so he could fly back home to his Uncles’ estate in England. Once there, once back in the only home he’d ever known with his Uncle who was the only person who loved him unconditionally, he could lick his wounds. Yes. Going back home, to his roots, he could begin the process of healing, maybe forget or at least stop the hurt that right now... was, quite literally, killing him.
A/N: Not to worry, I’m working on the next chapter as we speak. I hate leaving things on such a bad note (I really do), but it’s quite intentional for me to leave you all hating Buffy. Just bare in mind that from her perspective, she reacted in the only way she could in order to protect herself and her heart... given what information she had at the time. All will work out in the end, I promise.