Had she meant them? Or was it just reflex to say them? I mean, you’re tired, someone says “I love you” you say it back…right? So it didn’t mean she said them because she meant them. . . right?
But what if she did? What if she meant them? Well, it wasn’t like he could ask her now could he? She was fast asleep and he knew better than to wake her. She was a bear when woken up. She’d kick his ass for sure. And what would he say? ‘Uh, Buffy, I said I loved you and you said it back…were you really saying it or were you just saying it cause you were half asleep?’
Yeah, right. That’d work.
Standing, he stared down at her for a little longer before shutting out her light and leaving the room. He could at least hope she’d remember it in the morning.
Yeah, that might happen.
Days past and still their little tryst had not been spoken about. Buffy, William noted, had been diligently looking for a job and he had to admit, it hurt. He knew she had to get one--everyone needed to work, right? But it was the reason that drove her to pound the pavement so hard that hurt. And the fact remained that really; he just didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay with him. Wanted to know that she was there when he left in the morning and would be there when he got home from a long day. It gave him a sense of security, a ‘coming home’ feeling. He’d hoped she felt the same way. He’d like to think that before their tryst, she had. And now…now she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
It hurt.
And then one afternoon, she came to visit him. Waltzing in, she beamed at him her eyes alight with excitement. “Guess what!”
He grinned, not able to help being swept up in her joy. It was contagious. “What?”
“I got a job!”
He stood, bounded over to her and gave her a big hug. “I’m happy for you! What kind of job?”
“I’m actually working at a museum. They were incredibly impressed with my knowledge of art history and took me on as a guide to talk about the work. They even are willing to pay for me to get my Master’s.”
“Buffy’s that’s excellent. You must be so excited.”
“I am. Uh, Will?”
“Yeah?” he murmured, getting lost in her scent that was currently surrounding him as he held her.
“You can let me go now.”
He released her instantly, feeling like an idiot. Not to mention the fact that any more time holding her, and she’d know that he was willing to repeat their passionate time together right in his office. On his desk. Maybe on the couch. No, he hadn’t fantasized about it at all…
“So,” she continued without missing a beat, “I figure I’ll have enough money after a month or so to move out.”
He nodded, turning away from her. “That’s great, Buffy.”
“I’ll be out of your hair and you can have your bachelor pad back.”
“You were never in my hair, Princess,” he drawled.
She shrugged, “Well, ya know.”
Settling back in his chair he studied her. “So are you going to go back to school then?”
“Most definitely. I’d be dumb not to take them up on that offer.”
“I agree, that sounds like a great opportunity to go further advancement in a lot more areas.”
Silence fell and it was awkward. William hated that. He liked the comfortable silence they’d had, not the awkward silence that hinted at their being a gigantic elephant in the room that he didn’t want to mention because it sent her running, and he knew well enough she was never going to mention it.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna head home now,” she murmured.
“What are you doing later?”
“What?”
“What are you doing later? You know, when I get home…?”
“I’m uh, going out tonight.”
”Oh?”
“Just an art show going on that I found out about.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun. Maybe we could go—“
“Uh, no. I’m actually going with a couple people I met today.”
He studied her, knowing instinctively something was off. She was jittery, nervous. She was hiding something.
“For work?” he questioned, raising a brow.
“Yep, for work. Okay, well I’m gonna get going—“
”Will you be home when I get there?”
“Perhaps.”
“Are you meeting them there?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
She gave him a weary look. “God, what are you? Dad?”
“You’re acting funny. What are you hiding from me?”
Rolling her eyes, she headed for his door. “Paranoid much? G’bye, William.”
He stared at the closed door she’d just retreated from for a long time. So, looked like he was going to have to come home a little early that evening and investigate her ‘night out’.
Buffy checked the clock once more. It was five. William was usually home at six. It was time to go. She did not want to be home when he got there. She was horrible at lying and she felt guilty for keeping her date a secret from him, but she really didn’t see any other alternative.
For some reason, Buffy knew that telling William she had a date would lead to disaster. After all, it’d been his jealousy that had led to them fornicating in a dirty hallway hadn’t it? Whatever William was feeling for her, or had felt, Buffy was afraid to ‘rouse the beast’ so to speak. Besides, it was a date. One. It wasn’t like she was meeting the love of her life. She was just going to go out and have a good time and not be consumed for once by her incredibly confusing feelings for William.
No harm in that, right?
Waltzing out the door, Buffy gauged she could meet her date at the Bistro he was taking her to before the art showing they were attending.
She didn’t notice the invitation her date had given her that morning in the coffee shop had fallen to the middle of the living room – right out of her purse that she hastily grabbed on her way out the door.
William arrived home at 5:30, annoyed that he hadn’t been able to get out of work sooner.
“Buffy?” he called, heading towards her bedroom. The penthouse was so quiet; a pin could have been heard dropping.
Pushing her door open, he was assaulted with her scent and he smiled, heaving a deep breath, feeling himself surrounded by her even in her absence.
“Buffy?” he called through the penthouse.
Heading to the living room, wondering if she was out on the balcony and he’d just missed her in his haste, his eye fell on a slip of paper on the floor. Picking it up, he discovered it was an invitation of some sort. William smiled as he realized what it was for. Buffy didn’t know it, but she’d just told him where she would be that night.
Heading toward the shower, William whistled a jaunty tune. He had a girl to see about.