Chapter 8

“When I said we should talk, I was thinking maybe in the near future, at the house and after I’d had awhile to prepare, you know, panic and all that.”

“No, let’s seize the moment. Tell me what you thought about our date. Indulge me, William.”

William sighed, her words bringing up all his memories of their night together to the surface. “Well, I never thought our first time would be like that…ah, not that I thought about us together much—ah, ever, I mean. I just didn’t think alcohol would play such a large part in…I, um…”

“Why did you leave?”

“In the morning?”

“Yes.”

“I went shopping.”

“Shopping? You’re kidding.”

“No, not at all. I went off and bought some things for your hangover, water and some real food other than that junk we’ve been living on and--.”

“We can go now.”

“But I thought we were going to talk this out?”

“We will, at home. I need time to prepare.”

“Hey…” William took a sideways glance at Buffy and noticed a tiny smile tugging on her features. “Ok, you do that.”
***

“Help me make dinner.” Buffy walked into the kitchen, knowing William would follow. “For starters, William, you’re too good to be true.” She dug food out of the cabinet and never looked in his direction. “I don’t know how to handle you, really.”

William watched as Buffy quickly moved around the kitchen as if she owed it, knowing where every spatula and plate was hidden. He remained silent and kept to a safe distance as she spoke.

“You’re the most considerate guy I’ve ever meet, hell, guys like you I thought were only myths and in fairy tales.” Opening various canned foods, she continued on, “You almost make me want to be a better person, almost.” At his light chuckle Buffy, smiled. “But then I think, if I were nicer and less bitchy, would that make you seem a little less perfect? I’d hate to take any of that away from you, your perfection”

“I’m anything but perfect, love.”

“Shut up, you are and in all the places where it counts. So you weren’t a natural at kidnapping, but who is? And you can’t shoot a gun worth shit; I don’t care about that stuff. Come here and put these into bowls for me.”

“So what are you saying, pet?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’m not great with all this heart-to-heart crap, but I do know that you didn’t take advantage of me, I may have been more than a little tipsy but I’m a big girl. Hell, I was the one that had us play the drinking game in the first place, remember?”

“I do. But I still don’t understand why you hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you, William and I think that’s why I’ve been abusing you lately.”

“Come again?”

“You left and didn’t tell me and it hurt my feelings and because it hurt my feelings, I freaked out, which naturally led to me taking everything out on you, understand?”

“Barely, it must be a woman thing; did you enjoy yourself, on our date? With the singing and dancing and…”

“The tonsil hockey and the mind-blowing sex? I did. And this morning wasn’t painful either; being Lucille was very…satisfying.”

“So now what? Where do we go from here?”

“Forward.”

“Forward? People can have lots of definitions of forward, all different, confusing…”

“I know.”

“You’re not going to tell me yours?”

“No.”

“Right.” He looked away, struggling to hide his disappointment.

“But I can say it doesn’t involve you sleeping in the chair tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I’ll try my best to be kinder, but I make no promises.”
***

“Sorry. I can’t believe everything got burned.”

“It’s my fault, we were talking and I got you distracted. It’s lovely…once you get used to the texture.”

Buffy smiled briefly and went back to the subject of their prior conversation. “Now remember…about tomorrow.”

“Don’t get caught ‘cause if I do, it will lead to my unspeakable torture and untimely death.”

“That’s the main thing: don’t get caught. I’m pretty sure my father will have someone representing him because he’ll never take a sick day and miss a day of work, even if my life were really in danger. So I’m thinking be on the look out at all times for his thugs. When you get the money--”

“We met late tomorrow night back at the Wigwam if there’s any trouble. How will you get there if I have the car?”

“I’ll think of something. What’s the goal of tomorrow?”

“To get the bloody money.” William rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with me, woman. I know, I know, don’t get caught so I can try to get to the money again if something goes wrong.”

“But nothing will go wrong.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.”
***

“Same rules?” William began undressing the bed and taking off the pillow shams. “You on one side and me on the other?”

“That’ll do. I’ll be back.” With her new borrowed nightclothes in hand, Buffy went to change in the bathroom. Once she was gone, William slid under the covers, also in a stranger’s pajamas.

“Weird it is.”

“Weird what is?” She joined him and lying on her side, facing his bare back.

“Wearing some yahoo’s pjs.”

“Think of them as vintage, besides you’re also in a yahoo’s bed and eating a yahoo’s food.”

“A yahoo’s burnt food.” He grumbled and rolled over, finding himself face to face with Buffy. “Ah, hello there.”

“Hi.”

“This is a big bed, maybe we shouldn’t be squished in the middle like we are.”

“I’m not feeling squished. You said the meal was lovely, were you lying to me, William?”

William swallowed and contemplated moving away from her out of fear, having no idea what could happen next. “No.”

“So my food was lovely? Even if it was black and hard as a rock? Or do you call everything lovely? I remember a drunk William telling me I was lovely.”

“You are, love.”

Buffy tried to fight back her smile but failed. “I love seeing you squirm.”

“I’ve become well aware of that.”

“Do I scare you?”

“Sometimes…but I’m figuring you out, slowly but surely.”

“Tell me what you uncover. I’m curious.”

“Will do.”

“Goodnight, William.”

“Goodnight, Buffy.”

“Keep your hands to yourself, I know you want me.”

“Do I?” William snorted, the truth shining in his eyes. “Sure, ‘bout as much as you want me.”

Pulling the covers to her neck and rolling over, “It’s more than likely.”
***

“What are you doing here?”

“That’s a very profound question; my head can’t handle it just yet, ask another.” William buried his head into the soft cotton of Buffy’s nightgown and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist.

“If you drooled on me William, I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Besides you’re the drooler.”

“Shut up.” She began wiggling and pushing down his arms as he stubbornly pressed his face to her stomach and tried to sleep. “I’m so going to kick you…you asshole.”

“Aw, that reminds me of old times…but say things like that and I’ll never let you go.”

Buffy stopped struggling and fell back on her pillow with a sigh. “Please let me up, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You will when you’re laying in a puddle.”

“Now that’s disgusting.”

“Let me up.”

“Fine, fine, don’t get all shirty about it.”

“What the hell does shirty mean?”

“Ah, I’m not sure but it had a nice ring to it, right?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and ran to the bathroom.
***

Hours before William was scheduled to arrive, Willow and Faith were waiting, each in separate cars and hidden from the empty road.

“Maybe we’re too early. It’s hot over here.” Willow whined and turned up the air conditioning as her newly stolen car sat idle. “I hope he shows up soon.”

“He’ll be around soon, babe, just keep your eyes peeled.” Faith yawned as she spoke into her cell phone. “I can’t wait for the game to begin either, he’s in for quite a shock.”
***

“Don’t get caught. Run, shot whatever you can, just don’t get caught, William.” She watched as William put his gun in the car.

He nodded and swallowed, leaving the door open and walking over to Buffy for what could be their final goodbye. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me and for all those things you said yesterday…it all was said at a good time…before it could all go down in flames.”

“It won’t--.”

Before Buffy could start an inspirational speech, William had grabbed her and was kissing her, she responded to his needy tongue and squeezed her eyes closed.

“Buffy…” He managed between gasps for air, not letting her out of his grasp, “If I get through this, alive and kicking, the games stop, ok? No more playing with me…we cut the crap, I want you, you want me…I want us to be together.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

“O-ok.”

“Ok?”

She nodded and surrendered to his demanding mouth.
***

According to Buffy, Hank Summers hadn’t let her first kidnappers off easy by any means. To pass the time on their seemingly endless car ride, Buffy had explained how Hank had paid the ransom but then didn’t rest until each of the four men where found, tortured and brutally killed. Giles, the family’s butler, was hired for the job and went on a two-year long journey and killing spree, returning with the nickname The Ripper.

William was occupied with these thoughts when he brought the car to a halt twenty yards from an old broken down Chevrolet. He stopped, waited, and looked around, his left hand clutching the gun in his pocket as he stared the pick-up location. Even with no apparent signs of human presence, he checked the gun as Buffy had showed him, making sure it was loaded and that the safety catch was on and then got out of the car.

“First the money, then the girl.” He mumbled remembering more of Buffy’s wisdom. They won’t kill me yet because if they did, they would never find Buffy anyway.

He edged closer to the car, fully prepared to scream and run and possibly shoot haphazardly if suddenly faced with Hank’s hired gun-wielding psychopath.

So far, so good.

William peeked into the empty car and slowly round to the trunk.

The money will be in there…please let the money be in there.

He opened the trunk.

Inside was a bomb.
***

Look a brown paper bag…dynamite, wires…and a little digital clock. I have ten seconds. I can run but then that would make my quick death into a longer, more painful one.

William’s eyes watered as he closed his eyes, waiting for the explosion to take his life, spreading his remains far and wide in the Arizona desert.

After thirty seconds, he opened his eyes and looked down.

I’m alive. Everything’s intact…I’m breathing…

He reached down and tugged at the wires and they came away easily, not connected to anything.

Sick bastards. He looked carefully at a stick of dynamite and peeled at its wrapping.

Holy fuck, I thought I was going to be offed by a bag of carrots!

And of course…there’s no money.

Relief, confusion and disappointment flooded William at once, but before he could gather his thoughts, a continuous shower automatic gunfire ripped into the Chevrolet, puncturing its tires and fuel tank, punching holes in the doors and glass.

William threw himself into a ditch beside the road and crawled on his elbows towards his car. The bullets hit the ground behind him, but he remained untouched. The scrambled into his car once the firing stopped. Reloading, William assumed, and wasted no time no starting the engine and thundering down the road.
***

“Nice job, Will.” Faith put down her binoculars as the burgundy car flew out of sight.

“Thanks.” Willow was already dismantling the tripod and returning her rifle to its plastic cover.
***

William had covered three miles before he spotted another car in his rearview mirror.

“Shit.”

Not paying attention, he nearly ran over a hitchhiker.

“This’ll work.”

He slammed on the breaks.

It’s gonna be a long walk home.
***

“Did he recognize you?”

“Not at all. Exactly as you’d predicted. ‘Quick, drive my car.” Gunn looked confused.

Willow flipped open her wallet and drew out three creased bills. “There’s what we owe ya, you’ve been very helpful Charles. Keep the car and go home and be a good boy but remember: the car’s stolen.”

“If you’d don’t mind me asking, how did you know he’d react like that?”

“It’s our job to know things like that, silly.”

“But how?”

“We just know.”

“I won’t tell a soul…CIA? FBI?”

“That’ none of your concern and if you insist on making it your concern, you may not be happy with the results.”
***





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