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"Ease up a bit, pet."

"Like that?"

"Yeah, jus' like that. Good."

"Is this okay?"

"You're doin' great. Relax a little, you're meant to be enjoyin' this."

"Okay."

"All right, slow down now. Think about what you're doin' with your feet."

"Uh-huh."

"I said slow down, not... bloody hell, woman, watch what you're doin'!" William yanked the steering wheel to the right and jammed his foot down on the brake, effectively dislodging Buffy's foot from the gas in the process. The car slammed to a stop and William threw it into park.

"I'm sorry," Buffy said meekly.

William sighed and scrubbed a hand across his hair. "How is it you can flip around our yard like a bleedin' deranged monkey without breakin' your neck, but you can't grasp the concept of brake pedal and gas pedal?"

"I told you, me and cars are completely unmixy." Buffy opened the door and began edging out of the car.

"An' where do you think you're going?" William said, grabbing her arm.

"I am getting out of the driver seat, and letting you drive." Buffy pulled her arm out of his grasp and slammed the door behind her. She slid into the passenger side, bumping William with her hip as she climbed in. "Move over, bossy English person. The driving lesson is over."

William laughed and pressed a kiss to Buffy's neck. "All right, if you really want to quit..."

She shot him a glare. "You really want me to wreck up your precious car? ‘Cause that's where this is going to lead if you keep pushing it. Besides, I've gotten along just fine so far without learning how to drive."

"If only you had this attitude in the kitchen," William said innocently.

"I heard that, you... you mean guy!" Buffy's sharp elbow dug into his side. "And you said you liked my cooking."

"I seriously doubt that exact combination of words ever came out of my mouth."

Buffy crossed her arms and stuck her lip out. "Fine. See if I make you breakfast ever again."

William laughed again. "Shakin' in my boots over here, kitten."

"Don't be mean to me, William, or I'll... I'll..."

"Cook for me?" he suggested.

"That, or drive you somewhere." Buffy winked at him.

"Well, I s'pose no one can be perfect, even you. Must say, you've completely shattered my illusions about you."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Look, I tried, you tried, but I know you're all wound up worrying what I'm going to do to your baby. So can we just go home?"

William grinned. It had been over a month since he'd moved her to his house in the dead of night, and he'd yet to tire of hearing her refer to it as her home, their home. "Yeah, pet, let's go home."

***

William came home one evening in mid-October to find a scowling Buffy sitting on the living room floor.

"What's the matter?" he asked as he seated himself behind her, gently massaging her tense shoulders.

"I can't do this," she said, gesturing to the books spread out on the floor in front of her – the textbooks from the GED preparation course she was taking.

"Yes, you can," he assured her. "I've seen how hard you're working at this, there's no way you're going to be anything but brilliant."

“Hmmph," Buffy grumped. "I beg to differ. This is stupid. I'm stupid."

William quickly spun her around to face him, pulling her legs over his and leaning his forehead against hers. "Listen, lady, I don't let anyone talk about my girl that way, so you best apologize right now."

Buffy giggled and kissed him. "Hi," she said. "Sorry I'm cranky. Think I've been doing too much algebra and, ugh, trig. At least they don't expect me to do calculus or anything crazy like that."

William smiled. "What d'you say we go out tonight? You look like you could use a break."

Buffy jumped up almost before he was done speaking. "Okay, where do you want to go? Let me change, I'll be ready to go in ten minutes."

William arched an eyebrow at her.

"All right, half an hour," she amended with a grin. "Longer if you wanna get in the shower with me."

"I'm in no rush, sweetness," William said, climbing eagerly to his feet.

***

Two hours later, they were taking a seat at the restaurant. William eyed Buffy. "You look a bit more relaxed," he said.

Buffy smirked at him. The expression was alarmingly similar to his own smirk. "That's what three orgasms in a row will do for a girl," she said matter-of-factly just as their waiter approached the table. The young man dropped his jaw and stammered through taking their drink order.

William waited until the waiter stumbled off before letting out a bellow of laughter. "Well, that was impressive for someone who couldn't even say the word 'sex' a couple months ago."

Buffy blushed and kicked him under the table. "I blame my boyfriend."

"And why is that? I have it on good authority that he's a proper Englishman, all stiff-upper-lippy and what have you."

She snorted indelicately. "He's a proper pig, is what he is. Goes around corrupting innocent young girls."

"Only the ones that like it, sweetheart," he responded with a leer. They chatted idly about their respective days as they perused the menu. The waiter returned with their drinks, still unable to look either of them in the eye.

"Need a minute, pet?" William asked when Buffy didn't respond to the waiter's mumbled 'what can I get you?' He glanced up from his menu to see that all the color had drained from her face. She set her menu down with shaking hands and stood unsteadily.

William stood, too, and moved to her side. He looked in the direction she was staring. A heavy, dark-haired man approached their table.

"Buffy," the man said in an unctuous tone. "I've been so worried about you." He shot a careless glance at William before focusing his attention on Buffy again. She backed away from him.

William placed himself between the man - Ted, he thought sickly - and Buffy. Her hand closed on his arm in a crushing grip. When she spoke, her voice was firm and steady.

"Stay the hell away from me!"

A greasy smile stretched Ted's full face, and he lifted his hands in front of him in a pacifying gesture. William felt physically ill at the thought of those hands on Buffy.

"Now, Buffy, is that any way to speak to your father?"

Buffy laughed. There was no humor in the sound. "You don't get to call yourself that. Ever." She squeezed a little harder on William's arm. "Let's go, please?" she whispered in his ear.

Ted turned his heavy-lidded gaze on William. "And who might you be?" he said. "Let me guess, my little girl told you some ‘poor me’ sob story about her evil stepfather and you just ate it up. Can't blame you, I suppose, for wanting to play the hero to a pretty little thing like my Buffy. But the girl's a liar. Always has been, no matter how I tried to correct that flaw."

"Shut up!" Buffy yelled. She stepped around William and flailed a wild punch in Ted's direction.

“Now, Buffy, what would your mother think if she could see the way you’re behaving?”

“Fuck you, you piece of shit. You don’t get to talk about my mother!” Tears were streaming down Buffy’s face.

Ted addressed his next words to William, his tone falsely sincere and conciliatory. "It's just so sad. Ever since my poor wife died, Buffy's been, well, a little unstable. You must have noticed."

William didn't bother to respond. He took Buffy's hand in his as she lunged for Ted again. "'S okay, Buffy, we're leaving now," he said. "Just gotta do one thing first." He patted her hand, giving her a reassuring smile. Then he turned to Ted and punched him as hard as he could. The blow hit him square on the jaw.

The bigger man was rocked back on his heels, but recovered quickly. William attempted to duck the right hook Ted threw at him, but the punch landed solidly on his left temple. The ornate pinky ring Ted wore sliced through his eyebrow, and blood poured down his face. William heard Buffy scream, and he swiped at the blood obscuring his vision.

The sight that met his eyes when he could see again brought a bitter smile to his face. Ted was lying on the restaurant floor, clutching his privates. Buffy stood above him, fists planted on her hips. She planted a vicious kick in Ted's ribs.

A flurry of motion across the restaurant caught William's eye – the manager was hurrying toward their table. William reached for his wallet and dropped several twenties on the table before wrapping an arm around Buffy's waist. She struggled away from him and landed another kick on Ted's torso. William got hold of her again and pulled her writhing body firmly against him.

"Sorry for the fuss, mate," he said to the flustered manager as he hurried Buffy past the man and out the door. He didn't release his hold on her until they were several blocks away from the restaurant. As soon as he let her go, she stumbled over to the street and vomited into the gutter. William approached her carefully and gently took her hand in his.

She turned into his arms, buried her face against his chest, wrapped her arms in an iron grip around his waist. "I hate him, I hate him," she sobbed.

William stroked her back and let her cry it out. "I know, sweetness," he murmured as she chanted the same words over and over. Finally she calmed herself, snuffled into his shirt, and glanced up at him.

"Oh, god, Will, your eye!" she said. "Are you all right?" Her hands stroked his bruised and bloodied face with soft concern.

"I'm fine, Buffy," William said calmly. He took her hands in his and squeezed. "C'mon, let's go home. We can order in pizza or Chinese, sound good?"

Buffy nodded silently. She looked dazed and spent. He slid an arm around her waist to steady her as they walked home.

***

Buffy was preternaturally calm following the confrontation in the restaurant. She tended to the cut on his eyebrow, murmuring her worry that it would leave a scar. Once the pizza – with extra everything – arrived, she picked at one slice, eating only the toppings and leaving most of the cheese and crust. She nodded when William suggested a movie, but he knew from her thousand-yard stare that her mind was nowhere near engaged in the film.

William took advantage of her silent indifference as an opportunity to cosset her. He brushed her hair till it shone and slipped through his hands like liquid silk, then plaited it in a loose braid. He coaxed her into her sushi pajamas and settled her on one end of the couch with a mug of hot cocoa. He pulled her feet onto his lap and rubbed her favorite lotion – vanilla and honey – into her slender feet as she sipped at the warm beverage. The tension slowly melted from her body as he worked his way up her calves.

“Feeling better, pet?” he asked softly.

Buffy focused her eyes on him as she took another sip of cocoa and nodded slowly. “You take such good care of me,” she said. She gave a small smile and relaxed further into the couch.

That little smile encouraged William. He slid his hands past her knees, then looked up at her, silently asking for permission. She moved towards him, swinging her leg across him so she was straddling his lap. He gripped her hips tightly.

“God, Buffy, you... I love you, you know that?” He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him for a searching kiss. Her hands came up to his throat as the kiss deepened; she melted into his body. When she ended the kiss and leaned back to look at him, her eyes were very soft. She traced the contours of his face with the tips of her fingers. William felt his heart give a great, bounding leap in his chest as she stared at him with wonder on her face.

“Dru was an idiot,” she said, apropos of nothing.

“Uh, what?”

“How could she even think of looking for something else when she had you?” She bent down and claimed his lips in another long kiss.

William ran a hand down Buffy’s cheek when they parted. “Buffy, d’you,” his heart was in his throat, “d’you love me, even just a little bit?”

Buffy shook her head. “No.”

He couldn’t breathe. “No?”

She smiled beatifically. “No. I love you a lot. With everything I have. I love you so much my heart hurts.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he said with reverence. He tugged her to him, explored her mouth, kissed her until they were both breathless. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you,” she said obediently. “William, I love you.”

He grinned and stood up with Buffy still in his arms. “Never gonna get tired of hearing that,” he said as he entered the bedroom.

William placed Buffy gently on the bed and slowly began unbuttoning her pajama top. Her hands yanked on his t-shirt, pulling it roughly over his head. She fumbled at his belt buckle as he slid her pants off of her hips and down her legs. When they were both naked together, he knelt on the bed in front of her, hands and eyes and mouth roaming over her smooth golden skin.

“Love you, Buffy,” he whispered desperately.

“I love you,” she whispered back, a smile creasing her cheeks. “Want you to make love to me. Now, please.”

William stayed kneeling, buttocks resting on his heels, and pulled Buffy onto his lap, guiding her down on to his throbbing cock. He hissed as he slowly slipped into her heat, inch by excruciating inch. “So good, Buffy,” he said against her throat. “You feel… oh, Jesus, pet,” he moaned as she flexed her inner muscles around his shaft. He moved his hips in a slow corkscrewing motion; Buffy mewled in response.

He couldn't get close enough to her, couldn't get enough of her scent and the intoxicating feel of her satiny skin. He wanted to climb right inside of her, wanted to absorb her into himself so they would never be parted. They breathed into each other's mouths, hot erotic gasps escaping them at each miniscule movement the other made.

Buffy dragged her nails across his back, gripped his shoulders, bit his ear. William opened his eyes and looked up at her. Her face was all he could see, her big eyes filling his vision. “Tell me,” he pleaded. “Wanna hear it again.”

Buffy leaned into him and lifted her hips so that he slipped almost all the way out of her before slamming her body down against his. "I love you," she cried.

William came so hard he thought he would turn inside out.





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