“I didn’t peg you as someone that lived in a cottage,” she said as he pulled into his driveway.
He smiled, “Well, it’s larger inside than it looks from the outside. I just like to give the illusion of a cottage. It’s much cozier that way.”
She raised a perfectly arched brow, “Cozy? I thought men didn’t like ‘cozy’.”
He laughed, “I’m not like most men, Buffy. I like cozy and comfortable. I gave up being the bare-walled and hardly any furniture bachelor a long time ago.”
“So you’re fully decorated, with lots of furniture and every spot on the wall covered?”
He smiled and cut the engine. “I am.”
Climbing out of the car, he watched her uneasily climb out as well. She seemed so weak and vulnerable to him at that moment, and all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and somehow lend her his strength. Catching him looking at her, she cocked her head to the side.
“What?”
He shook his head, “Nothing. Buffy, have you eaten since I made breakfast?”
She shook her head sheepishly, “No. I haven’t.”
“While you’re settling, I’ll make us something to eat.”
“William—“
“Don’t start. You’re my guest – no, scratch that.”
“Scratch that?”
“I want you to feel at home here. If you want something, don’t hesitate to get it. I don’t want you feeling like you have to ask me every time you want something to drink or eat. I also don’t want you to deny yourself because you feel you’re putting me out. Got it?”
“Sounds good in theory, but you know it won’t happen that way, don’t you?”
He grinned. “I had a feeling. I’ll just badger you until you cave.”
She gave him a tiny smile, “And how are you going to badger me?”
“I’ll ask you every five minutes if you want something. I’ll drive you completely crazy until you yell at me that you’ll get it yourself and then do it.”
She laughed then, and it was music to his ears. He grinned broadly, watching how her eyes crinkled at the corners, how her smile was so incredibly brilliant and genuine and how it made her positively glow. Radiant, he thought.
“I’ll work on it,” she told him and opened the back door, grabbing for her suitcases.
Opening the door on the other side, he shooed her away. “I’ve got them.”
“Who am I to argue?” she said, peering up at him over her suitcases.
He gave her a look and she laughed again.
Going to get her to do that more often, he thought.
His house was rather large inside. It was a mix of modern and classic. It was comfortably furnished and homey with large spacious rooms, and rich colors that instantly had her taking a deep, relaxing breath. Each room seemed to glide into the next one, a kind of perfect Feng Shui. She felt peace settle over her. She felt safe.
“What are you thinking?” William asked, watching her take in her surroundings.
“It’s nice here,” she breathed. “Very cozy.”
He grinned, “Told you. Come on, your room is just beyond the sitting room. Down the hall, and first door on your right,” he told her as he led her down the wide hallway.
“Kind of like Peter Pan. First star on the right and straight on till morning?”
He grinned at her, but said nothing. She noticed, but did not take in the pictures that adorned the walls in the hall, and decided to do that later. Entering what was to be her room, she felt suddenly tired. She chalked it up to the calming affect of the room. It was ocean blue, and the bed a queen sized with a white comforter and what looked like ocean blue underneath. The pillows spilled out from the headboard and Buffy saw herself getting lost in the sea of pillows and blankets. Pictures on the wall were of the ocean and the beach. There was even an anchor mounted on the wall.
“Nautical theme,” Buffy breathed and strode to the huge windows at the head of the bed, the gauzy white curtains shedding sunlight into the room, inviting her to look outside.
“You like it?”
She looked over at him and nodded. “It’s really gorgeous, William.”
He smiled broadly. “Thank you. There’s a closet over in the corner, a bureau and a nightstand for you. There’s a mirror over the bureau and you have a bathroom right over there.”
Her eyes followed him fluidly around the room as he pointed. She nodded. “Thank you.”
“I want you to feel at home.”
“I already do,” she murmured.
“Do you want to freshen up? Take a shower or something?”
“Um, yes, I think so. Do you need any help with – what are you making?”
“How about something easy like pasta?”
“That’s fine, William.”
“If you’re done and you don’t want to stay in here alone, come on out and keep me company.”
“Yes, that sounds fine, thank you.”
He sighed, “Buffy.”
“Hmmm?”
“Stop thanking me, and stop sounding like I’m your landlord or something, okay?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”
Looking at her, looking at how tired and uncertain she appeared, William couldn’t take it anymore. Striding across the room, he cupped the side of her face, making her look up at him. Her eyes were uncertain and hesitant, as if he were afraid of what he might do.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured.
“I know.”
“I just want to help you.”
She said nothing, just averted her eyes from him.
Dropping his hand to her waist, he pulled her into him and held her. She froze for a minute and then relaxed and tentatively, as if she were afraid to touch him, placed her hands on him, not quite a hug, but better than before at least.
“You need to be hugged,” he reaffirmed to her.
“I’m not used to it.”
“I can tell.”
“Sor—“
“Don’t.”
“Sor—“
“Buffy,” he said, admonishing her. Pulling back, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Come see me when you’re done. Take as long as you need.”
She nodded, seeming afraid to say anything for fear of being admonished for being too polite. William fought the urge to chuckle at that and left her alone.
“Can I ask you a question?” Buffy asked later after dinner as they sipped wine and relaxed.
“Sure.”
“Your house – did you decorate it or did Winifred?”
He cleared his throat, “Fred—that’s what I called her—she did.”
“Does it bother you to talk about her?”
“Not at all.”
“How did you meet her?”
“At a pub of all places. She was new to England.”
“Oh?”
“She was American.”
“Oh. Interesting. You have a thing for American women?” she blurted out and then her eyes widened in horror. Placing her glass down, she started to apologize for that slip. “I don’t know why I said that, I’m really sorry—“
“Buffy, I’m not offended, it’s okay. It would seem that I do have a ‘thing’ for American women, wouldn’t it? It just so happens that it’s coincidence, my involvement with them,” he explained easily.
“You were very much in love with her huh?”
He looked down at the table, nodding slowly, “I was, yes.”
“The pictures in the hall – are any of them her?”
“Why are you curious about Fred?”
She shrugged. “I feel like you know so much about me and I know just the bare essentials about you. I was thinking if you wanted to try that friend thing then it’s kind of my responsibility to know more, don’t you?”
He smirked, “Try that friend thing? Haven’t we already been doing that ‘friend thing’? Or did you just decide for certain to try it?”
She smiled guiltily, and stood. “So, can I help you clean up?”
William laughed out loud. “Oh, Buffy. What am I going to do with you?”
“Send me off to the loony bin?”
Shaking his head, William helped her clean the table.
After cleaning up, William took her in the hallway and named the people in the photo’s on the wall, and then showed her pictures in an album of Fred.
“She’s quite pretty,” Buffy muttered. “Kind of reminds me of Dru with the dark hair.”
“I don’t think Dru would have liked her.”
Buffy looked at him in surprise. “Why not?”
“Fred was too timid for Dru.”
Buffy laughed for the second time that day. “Are you saying that Dru wouldn’t have patience for Fred?”
“Exactly. Dru liked to tell it how it was; she couldn’t stand beating around the bush.”
“Yes,” Buffy remarked dryly, “Even when she herself did it. Especially when she was trying to tell you your future. Which, I have to tell you, she was horrible at that.”
William eyed her. “Was she?”
“She got some things right, but she saw more . . . long term than short term. So, while you’re waiting for this one event to happen, a dozen other things happen in the interim and you end up forgetting what the big thing that was supposed to happen was. However, she herself would admit that sometimes the future was hazy. I mean, everyone has free will, right?”
“Right.”
“So, technically, you could have many roads in front of you depending upon the choices you make.”
“So one small choice could lead you into an entirely different path than the one ‘seen’?”
“Right. It’s a crap chute really. However, I do believe that there are certain things that are destined to happen no matter what choice you make.”
Closing the album, William looked at her and smiled. “Some telly?”
She nodded, “Sure.”
She didn’t last long at all. She was out after a mere half hour into some crap movie. Sitting on the couch together, he knew the exact moment she fell asleep because her head dropped to his shoulder.
Something Buffy would never do awake.
Looking down at her, he smiled and ran a hand through her long hair. So soft, he thought and wondered what else about her was soft and inviting.
He pondered what she told him about Dru and getting her ‘fortune telling’ wrong, and wondered if he’d been set up by the ghost, or if what she saw was legitimate. He supposed that it had to be legitimate for if Buffy made the choice to stay, she would be safe. However, with the way things had been going as of late, with her fighting off her ability and being ‘called out’ by the spirits in her home, William had to wonder what sort of fate awaited Buffy if she stayed. Would that mean she would eventually accept her lot, or would another avenue open up – and would it be favorable or harmful?
“Dru,” he murmured, “If you can hear me, I need to talk with you. It’s about your sister and what fate awaits her if she stays. I need to make sure she’ll be all right . . . if you can in fact gauge that.”
Buffy stirred against him, and not wanting to wake her, William rested his head back on the couch and wrapped his arm around her, cradling her close. Yawning, he stared up at the ceiling, thinking of Buffy and what was to become of her – and what was to become of him – if she stayed.
Within minutes, he too was asleep.