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It was two long, agonizing days before William saw Buffy again.

He spent those two days trying to think of anything other than her big eyes and the deep sorrow she hid beneath her bright, clean smile. He conscribed the simple note she’d left him to the top drawer of his bedside table and tried to avoid the temptation to brush his lips and fingers over her kiss print. He changed the sheets on his bed because his brain insisted it could still smell her on his pillow; the haunting scent of her perfume remained, however, even with fresh linens.

William occupied himself with removing the last evidence of Drusilla from his house and with reorganizing his bookshelves. That task dissolved into him flipping through his books for the perfect words to express the state of his emotions. The third time he found himself reading e.e. cummings' "i like my body when it is with your," he sighed in frustration and slammed the book shut. The phrase "eyes big love-crumbs" floated through his mind and he found himself thinking about Buffy's hazel eyes gazing up at him as she lay in his bed.

When the knock on his door came the second morning, he raced to open it with his heart in his throat, hoping that the girl he couldn't get out of his head would be standing on the other side.

It was Drusilla.

Drusilla, with crocodile tears in her eyes and a beseeching tone in her voice. She tried to wheedle her way into the house, but William blocked the doorway with his body and stood resolute against her charms. She apologized, as sincere as he'd ever heard her; she swore up and down that it was a onetime thing, promised it would never happen again, and couldn't she be his princess again, still?

William refused her pleas over and over until the message finally sank in. He was done with her. He smiled coldly as she accepted his resolve and began collecting her belongings. His back porch was soon cleared of Drusilla's things, his house exorcised of her, and he felt the weight of their relationship slip off his shoulders.

He spent a long time after Drusilla was gone staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His hands gripped the edges of the porcelain sink until his knuckles ached. He tried to find a glimpse of the shy nerd he had been before Dru blew into his life; the floppy-haired, bespectacled boy Buffy had proclaimed 'cute.' He had often wondered what it was about that boy, exactly, that had convinced Dru he was worth transforming. Now he wondered what it was he'd seen in Dru that had persuaded him to make the transformation for her.

***

William ran aimlessly in an effort to burn off the nervous energy that had been building up inside him. It was only when he turned the corner onto Ash Street that he admitted to himself his aimless run had been anything but. The diner was just ahead. He slowed as he passed it, glancing through the front window in hopes of spying her golden form. It was late afternoon and the diner was nearly empty. If Buffy was working, she was nowhere to be seen.

William sped back up, determined to return home and put the girl out of his head. He wasn't going to obsess about her. Too late, his internal voice chided him.

That was when he saw her. He skidded to a halt yards away from her. She was standing at a bus stop, alternately fiddling with an iPod and glancing impatiently at her watch. William thought that he had never seen anything as lovely as Buffy in the sunshine. The sunlight sparkled on her hair and gave her skin a soft glow.

As if she could feel his intent gaze on her, Buffy turned slowly in his direction. Their eyes met and William felt a slow smile grace his face. She pulled her earphones off and looked at him as he came to stand in front of her. Her eyes, when they met his, were very wide. Her initial wary expression soon dissolved into one of amusement.

“Hello, Spike. Nice hair,” she snarked.

William glanced at the nearest shop window, hoping to catch his reflection. He cursed under his breath when he did. All sweaty and red-faced from his run, but that was nothing compared to the unruly mop of curls atop his head. He attempted to slick his hair down to no avail. “Yeah, well, you’ve got stupid hair, too,” he grumbled. He gave her loose ponytail a sharp tug.

Buffy gasped in mock-outrage. “Not nice, William,” she pouted.

He grinned at her. “I take it back, pet. Bloody gorgeous, your hair. Thought so from the first moment I saw you. Does that make it all better?” She nodded and smiled. “So, what are you up to on this fine day?” he questioned.

Buffy glanced at her watch again. “Waiting for the bus,” she replied. “Which is late. As usual.”

“Hey mister driver man, don’t be slow,” William sang quietly, ”cuz I got somewhere I gotta go.”

Buffy looked at him quizzically.

“’Waiting for the Bus?’ The Violent Femmes?” he prompted.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Never heard of ‘em.”

It was William’s turn to gasp. “Do you live under a rock?” he demanded. “Let me see that thing!” He pulled the iPod from her hands and quickly scrolled through her music collection. Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, 50 Cent, Rihanna, Mariah Carey. And those were the best of the bunch. “Good Lord, girl, do you listen to anything recorded before 2005?” he complained as he handed the iPod back to her. “I can see you need some musical education.” A playlist started creating itself in his mind. Would “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” be too obvious?

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I like my music just fine, thank you very much. Let me guess, you like it loud and grungy?”

“I like it good,” William clarified. “Come on, The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, Velvet Underground, The Clash? Any of these names ring a bell with you?”

Buffy shook her head. “Sorry.”

William gave an exaggerated sigh, but tempered it with a wide smile. "Glad I ran into you, pet," he said. "Been thinkin' about you."

"Really?" She grinned up at him as he nodded. "That's nice to hear," she murmured. Then her gaze turned serious and her eyes slipped from his. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry about the other night. Sorry I wigged out on you."

William put his hand on her arm as she turned slightly away from him. "Hey, nothing to apologize for," he said emphatically. "Well, except..."

Buffy looked back at him. "Except?"

He stepped closer to her and slid his hand down her arm, traced a light circle into the palm of her hand. "You could apologize for not being there when I woke up," he suggested. "Seems like a bad habit you've got. Makes me think, next time I get you in my bed," here he leaned into her and spoke very quietly in her ear, "I'm gonna have to tie you to it, just to make sure you're still there in the morning."

Buffy's hand clenched around his. He heard her swallow hard. "Oh," she breathed. William pulled back and looked at her. Her face was flushed and her eyes glazed. Her eyelids fluttered before she glanced up at him again. She removed her hand from his grasp and took a step back. "Um, I don't think... you shouldn't say things like that!" she protested. "I-I don't even know your last name!"

William laughed. "William Pratt, at your service," he said with a slight bow. "Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilites; but I think I did warn you I'm a rude man. Not a fluffy puppy at all, hmm?"

Buffy giggled. "Yes, you're very bad, Mr. Pratt," she agreed.

"Gonna introduce yourself all proper, pet, so I can get back to being good an' rude?"

"Buffy Summers." She held her hand out to him, which he took and shook briefly. They smiled at each other for a moment. Then, from behind him, William heard the pneumatic wheeze of a bus. "Oh, I've gotta go," Buffy said hurriedly.

"I could give you a ride, wherever you're going." William felt a sudden panic grip his heart.

"No!" Buffy responded sharply. Then, in a softer tone, "No, Will, I'm fine. But thank you."

"I wanna see you again, Buffy. Can I get your number?"

Buffy smiled shyly. She reached into her purse and after a minute of searching pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper. "Here, give me your number, I'll give you a call later, okay?"

William scribbled his digits down and handed the paper back to her just as the bus pulled up alongside them. "You better call," he warned, "or I'll be very sad." His fingers lingered on hers as she took the pen from him.

"I will. I promise." With a little wave, she boarded the bus.

William watched the bus pull away with a satisfied grin on his face. He turned toward home, a definite spring in his step as he ran down the street.

****

Buffy kept her promise; the phone rang just after nine that night. He could sense her unease over the phone and wished he could see her face. He tried to soothe her with teasing, keeping the conversation light. William breathed a sigh of relief when they set a date for Saturday night.

"You have to behave yourself," she said as their conversation wound down. "You said we could... that you wouldn't push for sex, remember?"

"I remember," he replied seriously. "Best behavior, pet. Promise."

“Huh.” A snort of derision crossed the phone wires. “Why do I get the feeling your ‘best behavior’ isn’t very good?”

William was about to defend himself and his behavior when he heard a loud crash from Buffy’s end. An indistinct voice shouted something in the background.

“I’ve gotta go, Will,” Buffy said distantly. “See you Saturday.”

“Buffy?” William questioned. But she was already gone.





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