“Love is like grass. If you fall on it, it may leave a stain and some temporary pain. But you’ll get over the pain, it will eventually stop hurting. Now maybe the stain ruined your favorite pair of jeans, or maybe it was nothing special that was ruined, but either way the stain remains there. And with time, it will begin to fade, but it will always be there, a permanent reminder that you, too, once fell.”
Unknown Author
Bored. If Buffy needed one word to sum up how she felt, it was exactly that. After finishing the cup of warm, chocolaty goodness Will had given her, she’d been wandering around downstairs aimlessly.
She resembled Goldilocks as she tested out different things in an attempt to find something to occupy her time. Unfortunately, nothing felt “just right.”
At first, she tried to watch television. After channel surfing for a bit, eventually it came down to two choices: tasteless talk shows or the weather.
Buffy hated talk shows. She believed they were modern day P.T. Barnum freak shows. During this one-hour of television, the motto of “There’s a sucker born every minute.” reigned supreme, while hosts exploited their guests by putting their hardships and shortcomings on display. Then after these pitiful fools’ fifteen minutes of fame, they went back to their lives, none the wiser.
Yeah, no thanks.
As for the weather, Buffy could only tolerate the wacky weather guy, sporting a horrible tie, a hideous comb-over and told even worse jokes in the time it took her to find the power button to shut it off. She didn’t need this buffoon telling her there was lots of snow.
Really? No shit, that’s snow?
Next, while walking around the living room, she felt that this place needed some freshening up. After eyeing the furniture briefly and knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to move the pieces on her own, she’d settled on rearranging the knickknacks and pictures littering the mantle and bookshelves. Once done, she glanced at the newly placed mantle clock and noticed this had eaten away twenty minutes. She was grateful for the small distraction.
However, when she noticed the numerous dusty outlines scattered over each surface, she realized Will would notice this too. Since it wasn’t truly her place to take this liberty, she took another ten minutes to move everything back to its original places.
Buffy found herself at the foot of the staircase in a final attempt to cure her boredom. Her mind had been ping-ponging between going upstairs to talk to Will and remaining where she was. This went on for a bit until her growling stomach finally gave her an out.
Grateful for the distraction, she headed into the kitchen in search for something to eat.
She opened the fridge and noticed all there was were Will’s “basic necessities”: a six-pack of imported beer, a few cartons of Chinese take out, a pizza box, eggs, and a quart of milk.
Buffy took out a white carton and carefully pulling back the tab. She slowly leaned forward to take a tentative sniff. Instantly, her nose scrunched from the stench of clearly rotten General Tso’s chicken. Quickly, she closed it and placed it back on the shelf.
With a heavy sigh, Buffy closed the fridge and opened the freezer, hoping for better luck in there. She noticed a gallon of mint chocolate-chip ice cream, an unopened bottle of Jack, and an industrial-sized bag of spicy buffalo wings. After shuffling these few items around and realizing this was really all there was, she pulled the large bag from the freezer and dropped it on the counter.
Well, I guess these are better than the funky chicken. Ha! Funky chicken!
With a flick of her wrist she turned on the oven, and pulled out a cookie sheet. After opening the bag, she strategically arranged several handfuls then placed them into the pre-heated oven.
Once done, Buffy’s stomach gave another loud protest of hunger. This prompted her to start searching for something to tide her over until the wings were ready.
She remembered Will constantly hiding tasty treats in the back of the kitchen cupboards. He tried using her height, or lack there of, to his advantage. However, just like his packs of cigarettes, she always found them.
Standing on her tiptoes, Buffy planted her left hand on the counter and with her right hand, began blindly rooting around the top shelf. Her fingers brushed against numerous cans and glass jars until they met with and knocked over a cardboard box. The distinctive sound of dozens of small, hard objects striking against the sides instantly captured her attention.
After a few cat-like swipes, she knocked the box from the shelf. When it landed on the counter Buffy knew, even before looking down, what it was—a box of macaroni and cheese.
For most people, tiny petrified pieces of pasta accompanied by a packet of faux, orange powdered-cheese isn’t exactly choice cuisine.
However, this meant so much more. While Buffy eyed the box, her mind wandered to the time when this poor-man’s meal became a symbol of her and Will’s lives changing, but not, and a promise made.
Five Years Ago
Buffy had just finished an extended shift at the diner, due to another waitress pulling a no-show. Completely exhausted, she started trudging down the busy LA street that led home.
Between picking up extra shifts at work and a Masters level class at California State University, she was running on pure fumes.
She and Will barely had any time together and when they did, sleep seemed to be the first order of business. Well, sleep after amazing sex. No matter how tired they were they always found time and energy for that.
When Buffy saw the awning to their building, despite her aching feet, she increased her pace. Once inside, she quickly retrieved the mail, which consisted mainly of bills. She then shoved the envelopes into her messenger bag, and pulled out her keys as she walked toward the stairwell.
Eyeing the stairs, Buffy muttered her customary curses as she started her ascent. The only elevator in the building had been ‘Out of Order’ for the two years they’d been living there. Her annoyed grumbling continued until she completed the five flights to their apartment.
Once she’d reached the door, she hastily dropped her bag and slid the key into the lock. After jiggling it several times, since this was another thing the landlord promised to fix—it finally unlocked. Buffy opened the door with a sigh of relief as she dragged her bag in behind her.
After shutting the door, she noticed the room was dark except for several lit candles scattered throughout. Normally, candles brought forth thoughts of seduction, along with a swell of anticipation from the pleasure surely to follow. Unfortunately, being monetarily challenged, she didn’t see it this way.
“Will? I thought last month we were putting off paying the phone bill, not the electricity. Shit, so is it my turn to call and beg them to turn it back on or is it yours?”
Buffy slid off her jacket and her worn, food-stained sneakers. Once situated, she noticed she’d been addressing an empty room. With a weary sigh, Buffy headed toward the only other place he could be—the bathroom.
She knocked softly on the door before testing the knob. Finding it unlocked, she slowly opened it but remained standing behind the barrier while calling out to him.
“Will, are you decent? Well, you’re never decent. But you're not, you know—“
She waited and after not hearing his refusal to her entering, Buffy moved further into the room. She noticed several more candles scattered along the vanity and also gathered at one corner of the bathtub.
Her eyes moved from the flickering candles to a far more intriguing sight—Will. Fragrant bubbles clung to the hard planes of his chest and, much to her disappointment, concealed the rest of his body from her appreciative gaze. His eyes were closed, and his head was resting on the tub’s edge, exposing the bitable length of his throat.
“You know, it's rude to stare, sweetheart.” Will glanced sideways as a smirk bloomed across his full lips.
“I’m not staring, appreciating, completely different vibe.”
Will’s throaty chuckle triggered her body to erupt into shudders, causing her excitement to dampen the cotton of her panties.
Buffy took several steps forward until she reached the edge of the tub. Her leg brushed against cold plastic. Her gaze reluctantly broke from her lounging, tasty husband to look down. At her feet was the mop bucket. Nestled in the middle of ice was a long-necked, green bottle. Buffy leaned over and pulled it out. She eyed the label, then held it out toward him.
“Will, what’s this? Is this the reason we didn’t have enough for the electricity? Not that I mind you splurging on a bottle of Ballatore Spumante, but you know we’re supposed to talk about unplanned expenses beforehand and—“
Will opened his eyes and lifted his head. While he sat up, he turned slightly to face her. Despite the temptation for her eyes to follow the rivulets of water running down his chest, Buffy focused on his face.
“I did it.” Will’s voice remained even but held a hint of pride. A broad smile replaced his smirk.
“Yeah, I know you did it. I didn’t buy the bubbly, or put off paying the electricity. And stop smiling! I’m trying to be mad at you, and you’re making it hard—“ Watching his smile widened, Buffy reiterated, “I mean difficult!”
“Well, I know what the first order of business needs to be. To get my sweetheart used to the pampering and spoiling parts of life.”
A look of confusion flashed across her face from this random statement. Noticing her uncertainty and to stop her from questioning him, Will repeated his earlier words.
“I did it.”
“Will, look, I’m tired and so not in the mood for this game, can you just—“
Before she could finish, realization dawned on her as she put together the clues: the candles, the bubble bath, naked Will—well, gratefully there’d always been that—the bottle of champagne, and his annoying repetitive statement.
Buffy’s eyes widened as her mouth became slack, clearly from shock. Will, noticing her expression, knew the light bulb had finally gone off in her pretty little head, and gave her his classic smirk.
“Now you’re gettin’ it.”
“Oh, Will—“
Without another word, Buffy quickly shoved the bottle back into the makeshift ice bucket before rushing toward him. She placed her hands on his cheeks and began peppering small kisses all over his face, whispering between each, “I love you!” and “I’m so proud!” After a handful of kisses, she lowered her lips to his, lengthening and deepening the contact.
Will wrapped his arms around her waist and carefully pulled her into the tub onto his lap. Water splashed over the sides from their combined weight and extinguished a few candles resting on the tub’s edge.
Buffy squealed in surprise from the unexpected, and not self-created, wetness as she recaptured his mouth.
All too soon, she reluctantly pulled away from his tantalizing lips and rested her forehead on his.
“When did this happen?”
“I got the call two hours ago. At first, I thought it was Doyle yankin’ my chain with one of his lousy, fake accents. But when this bloke told me where he was from and then patched me through to this bird, I knew it was legit. She’d explained she was a literary agent with Wolfram and Hart’s Literary and Entertainment Agency, and my manuscript had caught her attention. She said it intrigued her. Well, more than intrigued, she wants to see it published!”
“I knew all those long hours and dozens of query letters you sent out would paid off! So, besides me being married to a famous author, what happens now?”
“Well, tomorrow I’ve gotta go down to her office to finalize negotiations. Once that’s done, she’ll pitch my book to a few publishing companies. While we wait for one of them to bite, my manuscript will be gone over with a fine-toothed comb to fix any fuck ups.”
“So how long will it take until I see my husband’s book on Oprah’s book club list?”
“Sod, Oprah! That bloody cow wouldn’t know a good piece of writin’ if it came in cake form!”
Buffy tenderly swatted his chest while scolding him, “Be nice.”
“Anyway kitten, don’t really see this book makin’ a splash. It definitely won’t be discussed in the New York Times. But don’t you worry. I'll be chuffed, even if I only sell one copy.”
Buffy grabbed Will’s chin as her firm gaze bore into his. When she knew she had his undivided attention, she spoke. Her voice was stern but clearly laced with affection.
“Will, don’t you ever, ever question yourself or your talent. You are a brilliant, witty man who can put together a bunch of words like nobody else. If your book doesn’t sell, so what? The only people losing out are those idiots who didn’t read your book. Anyway, all that matters is how wonderful I think and know you are.”
Will’s eyes misted with tears as he leaned forward and kissed her softly. Their kiss intensified before Buffy’s shivering interrupted them.
“Kitten, you’re cold. Let’s get you warm and dry.”
Buffy leaned forward, playfully nipping his earlobe. “Mmm…warm and dry sounds nice, but I prefer hot and wet. You game, Big Bad?”
“’m more than game!”
Eagerly, Will slid one arm under the bend of her knees and wrapped the other around her middle. He started shifting and trying to stand, which caused Buffy to screech, “Will, knock it off! You’re going to hurt yourself!”
She then wriggled out of his grasp and pulled herself, with his help, out of the tub.
While Buffy tried wrestling off her wet, polyester second-skin, Will’s arms banded around her body tightly. His mouth attacked the side of her neck, nibbling and placing lingering kisses while his fingers skillfully released the buttons holding her uniform together.
Buffy’s hands fell to her sides as she savored the pleasure her husband created. She then curved her arms behind them and cupped Will’s backside, drawing his body closer.
Will, who’d clearly lost patience and desperately needed to get closer, grabbed handfuls of her uniform before pulling and ripping the remaining buttons from their holes. Buffy gasped from the dual sensations of the cool air hitting her heated body and Will’s hands now palming her cotton-covered breasts.
With Buffy’s single whispered moan, ”Please.” Will released the front clasp of her bra, and slid this and her uniform off her body, letting them drop to the floor.
Will feasted on her neck and the exposed flesh of her shoulder. Without warning, he swiftly scooped her up and walked them to their bed. Like the precious bundle she was, he gently laid her upon the sheets before immediately joining her.
Neither spoke as they moved in sync, positioning themselves for their timeless dance: Buffy’s arms wrapped tightly around his body with Will resting between her welcoming, splayed thighs. With a mind-numbing slowness, he entered her. Their cries from this blissful union echoed throughout the room.
Will’s deep and measured strokes soon brought Buffy to the edge of her impending climax. She weaved her fingers through his dampened hair as she feasted on his mouth, while her other hand reached down to firmly grasp one rounded cheek as she urged his thrusts.
Buffy broke from his mouth to herald her orgasm with a throaty cry. As her silken walls clenched all around him, he increased his tempo and triggered her second climax almost immediately after the first.
The couple moved with intense purpose, while whispered words of love and pleasure filled the room. The third time he’d felt her walls shuddering around him, he released her lips as his intense gaze connected with hers.
“Love you…love you so much…my Buffy, my world.”
“Will…love you.”
Following their declarations, their bodies simultaneously reached the pinnacle of absolute ecstasy before they plunged together, crying out and clinging to one another.
Silently, with the exception of heavy breathing, each basked in the afterglow of their love making until Will carefully withdrew from her depths.
His lips softly explored hers until he gently broke away and began moving slowly down her body. He placed several lingering kisses in the valley between her breasts. When he reached his destination, he rested his head on her abdomen and wrapped is arms around her. Instinctively, Buffy began running her fingers tenderly through his now unruly hair.
The couple lay intertwined in utter contentment until sleep pulled them under.
Several hours later, they continued their earlier conversation. Will now lay on his back with Buffy’s head pillowed on his chest.
“So, tell me again what my talented husband did.”
“With the advancement Wolfram and Hart had offered me, ’ve made it so my lovely, amazing wife will be treated like the goddess that she is. No more long hours in that dive, and now she can focus on her schooling, so she can save today’s wayward youth.”
“Mmm…that sounds positively divine.”
Buffy placed a soft kiss to his chest while enjoying just being in his arms, until a thought came to her. Her body tensed before pulling away and sitting up. Her expression changed quickly from one of happiness to distress. Seeing this, Will became instantly concerned.
“Buffy—“
“Will, you need to promise me something.”
He sat up, taking his wife’s hands into his. With his eyes never leaving hers, he placed a small kiss to the inside of each wrist.
“Anything, luv. I’ll give you the world, all you need to do is ask.”
“I don’t want the world. All I want is this. What we have right now. I never want us to lose ourselves in the money and fame. Whether we live here or in a mansion in Beverly Hills, I never want us to be anyone besides Buffy and Will.”
“So, a mansion in Beverly Hills is what you fancy?”
“Will…”
Buffy, annoyed by his teasing, snatched her hands from his. Seeing she was clearly upset, Will gathered them back into his as his expression changed, all signs of teasing gone.
“Buffy, I don’t give a bloody damn about the money or fame. Sure, it will be nice not to eat bleedin’ mac and cheese and hot dogs ever again, but that’s not what matters. All that matters are you and I. You are my world and that’s all I’ll ever need.”
Buffy’s eyes welled with tears as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. After placing her head to his chest, she’d let them fall which created a small trail of wetness on his skin. Will pulled her closer and placed a lingering kiss to her crown.
“Just promise me, Will. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
He gently extracted Buffy from his chest, and placed his fingers under her chin to raise her eyes to his.
“Never, sweetheart. We are soul mates you and I.”
“Together forever?”
“Eternity, my love. If it makes you feel better, how ‘bout this. We take a piece of our old life to our new one. So whenever one of us gets too big for our britches, we have this small reminder of where we came from.”
With Buffy’s nod of agreement, each looked around their sparse, tiny apartment for something to represent this.
Her eyes lit up before she slid off the bed, and hurried into the kitchen. She rummaged through the cupboards before announcing, “I’ve got it!”
A maraca-like noise announced her approach. She stood before him, still completely nude, holding up her find—a box of macaroni and cheese.
“This, this will be our reminder.”
“Elbow pasta and imitation cheese?” Will’s scarred brow rose with his teasing question.
“Yes, we will always keep a box of this in our kitchen cupboard, no matter where we live.”
“Right, box of mac and cheese it is then. Now come here, kitten. Though I detest that piss-poor excuse for a meal you’re holding, you, look sinfully delicious.”
Buffy felt herself blushing from head to toe. Despite the dim lighting, she knew from the way her husband’s talented tongue pressed against the back of his teeth he’d clearly noticed her rosy hue.
Intrigued with his offer, she dropped the box on the floor and joined him back in bed.
The couple stayed there until the following morning, when Will begrudgingly got up to make himself presentable for the meeting with his new literary agent.
The Present
The smell of smoke pulled Buffy from her memories. With a slightly confused sweeping of her eyes, she finally remembered where she was and more importantly what she was doing—cooking.
Buffy slid on potholders before opening the oven door. A thick plume of smoke poured out, quickly filling the room with the stench of burning chicken. She carefully pulled out the cookie sheet, placed it on the stovetop, and closed the oven door.
She tried, by frantically waving her gloved hands, to disperse the smoke before setting off the smoke alarm. Her attempt of making peace with Will wouldn’t work if he thought she was trying to burn down his house.
Once the smoke cleared, she noticed gratefully at least half of the wings hadn’t met with a burnt and inedible ending.
While the wings were cooling, Buffy set the table as her memories returned.
****
Counter to Will’s pessimistic view, within a week, Aurelius Publishing out bid two other companies. With Will and his literary agent, Lilah Morgan’s, persistence, Aurelius had also agreed to all the terms he’d asked for.
Within six months, Spike’s (Will’s chosen nom de plume), Big Bad: The Wolf’s Perspective of Little Red Riding Hood hit the stores. It was as if overnight that this risqué satire became the hottest thing out there.
Whether the critics and readers agreed, disagreed, or everything in between about Will’s views on this classic fairytale, they bought his book, nonetheless. It sold more than ten thousand copies during its first run.
Soon everyone wanted “Spike” for appearances. From small mom and pop bookstores to the major chains, he was a wanted man.
In spite of all this, they’d always kept a box of mac and cheese in the kitchen cupboard. Will, as his own personal reminder, kept one in his luggage when he traveled.
****
Placing the final touches to the table, a heavy sigh chased away the lingering thoughts of the past. Buffy decided it was time to head upstairs to get Will for lunch. Along the way to his study, she hoped he would accept this as a peace offering and the starting point of her much-needed, lengthy apology.
Author’s Notes:
“There’s a sucker born every minute.” is a famous PT Barnum saying.
Thank you Minx for adding the funky chicken!
Ballatore Spumante: cost approximately $10 a bottle
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Author's Chapter Notes:
*waving* Hello all! Here's the next installment of my tale. I hope I'm still holding you're attention. I like to give a big thanks, as always, to my lovely beta Sanityfair. Also, another big thanks to the talented Minx DeLovely, who edited my chapter while Diebirchen is on vaca. Last, but not least, thanks to capella42 for her lovely banner! Love ya ladies!!!!
Chapter End Notes:
Let me know whatcha think. Reviews feed the muse!