“The only reason we don't open our hearts and minds to other people is that they trigger confusion in us that we don't feel brave enough or sane enough to deal with. To the degree that we look clearly and compassionately at ourselves, we feel confident and fearless about looking into someone else's eyes.”
Pema Chodron
Buffy's eyes fluttered opened as she stretched lazily. While fully extending her arms and legs, she savored the popping of slightly stiffened joints and the gentle stretching of her once idle muscles. When her eyes finally came into focus, she noticed something didn’t seem quite right.
This isn’t my room.
Quickly, she sat up. The sudden movement caused her head to spin slightly. Once she got her bearings back, her gaze made several sweeps around the room. After recognition set in, her tense body began to relax as she gradually leaned back against the headboard.
I’m at Will’s house.
Buffy mulled over how she really felt about this. Of course she was grateful for his hospitality, especially after she had him sign—
So not going there.
However, despite his kindness, the fact remained—she really didn’t want to be there. It wasn’t that Will was being a stereotypical ex-husband: acting like a first-class ass by laughing at her for getting her car stuck in the snow or telling her she couldn’t sleep in his house, which would’ve ultimately made her have to stay in her freezing car overnight. Nor did he try to coax or guilt-trip her into having one-more-for-ol’-time-sake sex.
No, all of those things would’ve made it easier for her not wanting to be there.
Well, not the sex, actually—Yeah…next thought.
However, Will was never one for following status quo. He always did things differently.
That’s one of the things I lov—Again, so not going there.
Now she was faced with a huge problem: How should she act toward him?
She could be pleasant, wearing a perma-grin and whistling some jaunty tune as she headed downstairs. However, after running this scenario through her mind, Buffy realized a big flaw. Wouldn’t her acting like this make it seem as if she was happy about what happened last night, and in turn be a big proverbial slap to his face?
Yeah, ditch that plan.
Well, on the other hand, she could be a royal bitch. She could be snappy and short with him, not sparing him a second glance while she demanded him to dig out her car so she could get the hell out of there. She didn’t even have to think about that one. Choosing that course of action was a big, emphatic no.
When she acted like that toward him, it didn’t get her anything but one of his notorious death-glares and a string of British slurs. Well, except the times when he became turned on by her Queen Bitch of Bitchdonia side. Especially that one time—
Where was I? Oh yeah, that plan would only lead to badness!
Buffy sighed deeply while running her hand through her hair. Despite her being asleep for over six hours, sheer exhaustion started weighing on her heavily once again. This time it wasn’t her body but her mind that needed reprieve.
Since last night, countless conflicting feelings were warring inside her. And the more she tried rationalizing and understanding them, the more confused she became.
All she knew was this: she needed to dig her car out of the snow. Well, first things first, she needed to get out of bed. Maybe, by the time she freshened up, she would have a clear idea on how she would approach him. Or so she hoped.
Buffy, knowing full-well heading out of this room in just his tee shirt and undies was definitely not a good idea, slid on her jeans and headed to the bathroom.
After she’d washed her face, brushed her hair and teeth, and “borrowed” some of Will’s deodorant, she’d grabbed a set of fresh sheets before heading back to the guest room.
Once in the room, she quickly made the bed and straightened up. There was only one more thing she had to do before heading downstairs—get changed. In itself, this wasn’t the issue. Well, not until she had to take off Will’s shirt.
Buffy gradually lifted the faded cotton to her nose and inhaled deeply. Regardless of the slight hint of vanilla that still clung to the shirt, clearly from her, it mainly smelled of him. His unique scent permeating the fabric filled her nose and instantly brought forward the one feeling she’d been fighting desperately against—lust.
Last night his essence had lulled her to sleep. Now, she felt her body humming with anticipation and excitement. Each nerve felt on edge, as if a single touch from him would have her loosing what little self-control she had left.
Buffy, knowing this wouldn’t lead anywhere good, gave her inner lust-bunny a mental bitch-slap before throwing the shirt onto the pile of dirty sheets on the floor.
Before she’d changed her mind, with a quick flip of the top sheet, she’d covered the temptation. With her gaze everywhere except the linens at her feet, she finished getting dressed before snatching the offending pile off the floor and headed to the hamper in the bathroom.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she threw open the lid and stuffed the wad of linens in. She stared at the pile for several moments while lost in thought. She now figured out the best way to approach Will—as a friend.
After all, isn’t this how we started off our relationship?
As a friend, she would be gracious to him for his hospitality but not overly so. There will be no hugging or touching of any kind. Plus, there will be no more ogling. Furthermore, she would talk to him, but there would be no flirting or words that he could misconstrue.
In being his friend, especially with all of these conflicting feelings, it would be a fine line to walk, but if she held the same certainty she did on the ride up, she could do it.
Okay, I’ll just dig out my car and then leave. Easy-peasy.
With a nod of achievement at finally making a decision, she closed the lid and headed downstairs. When she reached the living room, Buffy looked around and after noticing Will wasn’t there, released a soft sigh of relief.
This might be easier than I thought. He’s probably still sleeping. I’ll dig out my car, and if he’s still sleeping when I’m done, I’ll just write a note telling him thanks for letting me stay.
Buffy continued heading toward the rack that held her jacket even though the faint, heavenly scent of coffee that filled the air tried enticing her to pour herself a big mug full of much needed liquid energy.
While she was sliding on her leather, Will came in from outside. At first, he didn’t notice her as he began pulling off his clearly wet gloves and jacket.
When Will noticed Buffy watching him, he stopped briefly removing his jacket as a soft smile claimed his lips.
“Hey, good morning. Did you sleep well?”
Buffy knew by the rosy tint of Will’s normally pale cheeks and nose and the amount of snow covering his boots, he had been outside for some time, most likely digging out her car.
Initially, it was flattering that he had done this for her. However, for some unexplainable reason her mind started questioning why he would do this. Soon she came up with a reason. He was obviously trying to get her outta here—ASAP. Now, that pissed her off.
“Did you shovel out my car?”
Buffy’s question stilled Will’s hand on the laces of his boot. Even being bent over, he immediately noticed her slight irritation.
“Yeah, woke up early and decided to get a jump start on the day.”
Will finished unlacing one boot before working on the other. While his head remained lowered, he hoped he was mistaken about her irritability. Also, he prayed she hadn’t noticed the dark circles under his eyes. This raccoon-look was a tell tale sign he didn’t get any sleep at all last night and that was a discussion he wasn’t prepared to have.
Once done, Will stood and starting heel-toeing off his boots. He noticed Buffy’s normally full lips were set in thin line. It looked like she wanted to say something but decided against it. She eyed him briefly, and after an unlady-like snort, she started stuffing her feet, almost angrily, into her boots.
Will watched her in confusion. How did I piss her off already? Or maybe she’s just still cross about last night. Even though I didn’t do anythin’ then either. Well, if you count her eyeing my arse and dangly bits, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?
While Will continued contemplating why she was angry, Buffy stomped over to her purse and snatched it off the counter. While she fished out her keys from the bag, he broke from his thoughts and shifted slightly in her path, causing her to stop abruptly.
“Are you angry with me?”
“No, I’m just trying to get a jump start on the day!”
Buffy’s thick, sarcastic tone triggered Will’s brow to furrow in utter confusion. He didn’t know why she was so upset, but he intended to find out.
“You’re not pissed ‘cause I cleared out your car are you?”
“No, I’m not mad at all, Will. I’m actually grateful, don’t I look it?” Buffy stopped fiddling inside her bag long enough to look at him. She had an unmistakable sardonic, wide-toothed smile plastered on her face.
“No, actually you look a little nutter, but—“
Buffy’s eyes widened at his remark before she scoffed and tried pushing past him to get to the door. Instinctually, Will grabbed her upper arm to stop her. She whipped around and her narrowed eyes landed on his offending hand before it rose to his face. Will, reacting to her, immediately removed his hand and raised both hands up in mock surrender.
Will was at a lost as to why she was acting this way. All he knew was that he didn’t want her to leave. Especially not like this.
“Buffy, you’re clearly angry. Let’s talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about! You’ve made yourself perfectly clear that you want me to leave, so that’s what I’m going to do. All you need to do is move out of my way so I can!” Buffy tried to pass him once more, but Will shifted further, continuing to block her way.
“I never said I wanted you to leave. You’re the one who was hell bent last night to get outta here. I thought this is what you wanted.”
Will’s voice started rising with irritation. He didn’t want to fight with her, but he also wasn’t going to let her pin blame on him for something that wasn’t true.
“I do want to go. It’s just—you don’t have to be all happy about it!”
“What? Are you completely daft? How does clearin’ out your car say ‘m happy ‘bout you leavin’?”
“Of course it says you want me to go! If you didn’t, you would’ve left the snow so I would have to stay longer to get my car out!”
Buffy knew she sounded irrational, but at this point she knew she was way past rational, since her feelings were now in control of her mouth.
Will snorted following her response. He didn’t know what had gotten into her, but he sure as hell knew it was far more than she was saying, and clearly he was fighting a losing battle. Yet, he still wouldn’t back down.
“Right, so then you could think I was a bastard when I sat in here all cozy-like while you were diggin’ out your car? Yeah, no thanks.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter what I would’ve thought, it’s done now. So, I’ll just be going.”
With that, Buffy successfully bypassed him and headed toward the door. She opened the door slightly before Will’s hand shot out, forcing the door to slam shut. Buffy turned and glared at him. Despite her obvious anger and determination for him to move, Will stared back with equal resolve to not back-down.
“Now that’s just plain rude, Buffy. Fine, you don’t want to talk about what’s got your knickers all in a twist, but at least you could thank me for fixing your problem.”
Despite his leveled tone, Buffy could tell Will was definitely irritated, which in turned fueled her determination to leave even more. Grabbing the doorknob, Buffy tried pulling the door open once more. It only opened part way, before he slammed it closed again.
“Stop it!” Buffy snapped as she tried the door again, but Will’s hand kept it from budging.
“Make me.” Will’s challenge held a measure of taunting, since he knew full well she couldn’t leave through the door while he held it in place.
Buffy whirled around and started quickly heading toward the front door. Will followed her, and before she could reach her destination, he grabbed her upper arm and turned her to face him. He noticed her wide, exasperated eyes and flushed cheeks before she shook his hand off.
“Fine, thank you! Thank you for getting me outta here faster! Is that good enough? Can I go now…please?”
When she first started speaking, Will noticed how strong and sure her voice sounded. However, the more she spoke, the softer it became, until her last word was a mere whisper. Despite only moments earlier she appeared ready to tear him a new one, she now just looked drained and defeated.
Will shook his head as he released her arm and lowered his hand to his side. He wanted to offer her comfort. He knew despite the brave face she tried to put forward, she was having a difficult time. But so was he. He couldn’t offer her something he couldn’t give himself. However, he still wanted to try.
“Buffy, what is this truly all about?”
Buffy lowered her eyes, trying to get away from his piercing stare. She knew he saw right through her. He always did. Her gaze remained fixed on a suddenly interesting spot on the floor.
“Will, why are you being so nice to me? After, well, after last night, why don’t you hate me?”
Following her last word, Buffy’s gaze, with a glimmer of tears balancing on her lower lids, rose to meet his.
Even though he shouldn’t, Will reached forward and tenderly cupped her cheek as his gaze remaining locked with hers.
“Buffy, I don’t hate you. It hurts, ‘m not goin’ to lie about that, but I could never hate you. And as for me bein’ nice to you, well, that goes with the whole not hatin’ you thing.”
Several tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked, before she let out a soft sigh.
“If I were you, I would hate me.”
Will couldn’t help but smile softly while his thumb tenderly brushed away a stray tear.
“Well, you’re not, and I won’t. I can’t. Buffy, I lov—“
Before he could finish his words, Buffy pulled from his touch and stepped back. Despite seeing the hurt flashing across his features from breaking away, she knew she needed to stop this now.
“See, this is the problem! You’re acting all nice and trying to make me feel better, when you should be saying, “Bloody woman, get the hell outta my house!” It doesn’t make any sense!”
“So, instead of bein’ nice, you rather I yell at you in a really bad accent as I kick you out?” Will’s scarred brow rose as his voice held a hint of teasing. This conversation was getting weirder and more confusing by the moment.
“Yes! Exactly! That’s what exes do. They fight, and they’re mean to one another, and they kick each other out!” Buffy explained as her arms flailed around trying to emphasize her point.
Will tried to follow her logic, yet before he could question it, realization set in. His eyes widened with understanding before he started pacing, his fury fueling his strides.
“Oh, now ‘m gettin’it. May ‘ave been slow to catch on, but I now see what your doin’. If ‘m bein’ a first class arse, it would make it easier for you to skedaddle—“Will stopped mid-sentence, his gaze boring down on her. “Is that the game, Buffy?”
“No, Will, there’s no game, I—“
Before she could finish responding, Will stepped closer until she could feel his hot breath on her face.
“Get…Out.”
His deep, icy tone caused shivers to erupt all over her body and her stomach dropped. Will stepped away from her, turned and headed toward the stairs.
“Will, I’m—“
Despite what he had said, he was ultimately right. She was trying to make this easier on herself. She had not done so deliberately, nor was she trying to hurt him, but she’d done both nonetheless.
However, she knew this wasn’t what she wanted, especially to hurt him, and she couldn’t let him believe that it was. During her attempt to explain, Will stopped walking and spun around to face her.
“Get…Out…NOW!
She jumped slightly from his raised, rage-filled voice echoing throughout the room. Buffy noticed his clenched jaw, fisted hands, and heaving chest. She could tell he was barely holding on to his temper. Even though she wanted to explain herself and apologize, she knew, at the very least, she needed to respect his wishes. Without another word, she turned and quickly headed out the front door.
With the sound of the door closing, Will released his rigid stance with a heavy sigh. He couldn’t believe how quickly everything went pear-shaped. Will took several weary steps toward the couch and awkwardly dropped himself down onto the cushions.
Will’s head was buzzing with sounds, in spite of how eerily quiet the room truly was. Soon his mind shifted from his noisy thoughts to what was happening around him, or more so the lack there of something happening.
Buffy had yet to leave. He heard her car door slam, but after that, nothing. With curiosity getting the better of him, he stood and headed toward the window.
He noticed Buffy sitting in the car. Even with the distance and the closed window he knew exactly what she was saying—or more so yelling. He could tell by the rapid pace of her mouth and how her hands continually slammed against the steering wheel she was totally pissed.
The whole scene would have been comical if not for his already sour and dejected mood. After watching for several minutes and against his better judgment, Will slid on his jacket and boots and headed outside.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello all! Here's the next installment to my tale. I hope everyone is enjoying thus far. Big thanks to my beta Sanityfair. Even though she's busy, she always makes the time for me: for my stories and even more importantly as my friend. Also a big thanks to Diebirchen for working on my chapter even though she's feeling worse for wear. Love ya, babes!
Chapter End Notes:
Please let me know whatcha think: good, bad, or otherwise. thanks!