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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello all! I hope everyone is enjoying my tale thus far. I have two things I'd like to say before you start reading. First, I want to thank my lovely beta and friend, Sanityfair, for working her magic on my chapter. Secondy, this will be the first and only warning: the next chapters will be filled with difficult subjects. Some may be hard to read, but this is where I wanted to take this story from the beginning so... that's that. I felt I needed to give this little warning since knowing how difficult it was for me to write them, I know it will be equally or more so difficult to read. Now, I hope, despite the warning, you will enjoy this chapter and the others to follow. I really would love to know what you think and felt. Big thanks to all of you. BBE


“Feelings are not supposed to be logical. Dangerous is the man who has rationalized his emotions.”
David Borenstein



Once reaching the top of the stairs, Buffy headed directly toward his study. She stood in front of the closed door, and in an attempt to calm her frazzled nerves, she inhaled deeply before knocking.

She shifted anxiously and awaited a response. When none came, she knocked again. After a minute of silence, she opened the door and stepped into the room, softly calling Will’s name.

Buffy noticed immediately, despite the lingering stench of cigarettes in the air, he wasn’t there, and she had no clue where he’d gone.

That was until she heard the faint, distinctive sound of something heavy striking wood and said wood splintering apart. Buffy walked toward the window and looked out onto the backyard.

There was Will, standing among a growing pile of split wood. He was only wearing a long-sleeved black shirt—which appeared damp as it clung to his back— jeans, heavy boots, and work gloves.

Buffy watched with womanly appreciation. His muscles strained against the fabric as he lifted the splitting maul over his head and with a graceful arc, he brought it down, striking an up-right log. Instantly, the wood split apart causing both halves to land on either side of the tree stump-chopping block.

After staring for several moments, Buffy blinked and tried dispelling her naughty thoughts. Finally, with her lustiness in check, she headed downstairs.

Even though Buffy initially felt more comfortable when they were in separate rooms, this changed when she started to feel lonely and wanted company. Well, not just any company, his.

That’s why she’d made lunch, not only for herself, but for him and why when she saw him outside in nothing but thin cotton shirt and jeans, she felt the need to tell him to come inside or at the very least to put on a jacket.

She dressed warmly before grabbing his coat off the hook and exiting through the back door. The closer she walked toward him, the louder the sound of splitting wood, and his quick breaths and grunts of exertion became.

Buffy stopped and stood several feet behind him. When he finished and leaned forward to grab another log, she took the opportunity to try and talk to him.

“So Paul Bunyan, I think you have enough wood to last you until next winter. Whatya say, ready for some grub?”

He didn’t respond as he grabbed another log and roughly arranged it on the stump. Will set his stance before lifting the splitting maul up over his head and brought it down with a loud thwack!

Before the halves settled on the ground, he leaned over again to retrieve another. At this point Buffy had had enough of his silent treatment. She stepped forward into his line of vision and stood in the path of the pile he was pulling from.

“Look, it’s obvious you had some pent up energy that needed releasing, but don’t you think it would be a little better with a jacket on? It’s like 20 degrees out here or something, and you’re going to catch a cold,” Buffy said, offering him his jacket.

Will, still ignoring Buffy and her offering, reached around her legs and tried grabbing another log. When he reached forward as if she wasn’t even there, Buffy knew she had to get his attention some how.

Well, being a bitch always worked!

“Really? So it’s going to be like that? You’re going to stay out here and what, freeze? Is this ‘cause you’re pissed at me about my car not starting? It wasn’t like I did it on purpose! Believe me, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I already have! If I could call a taxi or hell, even walk outta here, I would!”

When he didn’t respond to her mini-rant, she decided she was done. In utter frustration, she threw his jacket in the snow and with a loud huff, turned to stomp away. However, before she’d moved, she felt the pressure of his hand wrapping around her upper arm stilling her.

“That’s a myth.”

“What?” Buffy’s brow furrowed with confusion from his out-of-the-blue remark.

“I said that’s a myth, a fallacy. You don’t catch a cold from being outside without a coat on. The only way I’d catch anythin’ would be, if along with your sparklin’ personality, you’d brought the rhinovirus here with you.”

Buffy’s eyes instantly narrowed from his clear insult. She yanked her arm out of his grasp and took several steps toward the house before turning to face him, as he had now turned to watch her walk away.

“You are such as ass! Here I am thinking, “Hey, he must be hungry, let me make him something to eat.” Then I go upstairs to your study to let you know it’s ready, and you’re not there. Then I see you outside chopping wood without a coat on, and I get this strange notion that maybe you’re cold and I should bring you one! You know what? I’m an idiot for thinking I could do anything nice for you without your wise ass mouth saying something stupid!”

During her tirade, Will tilted his head to the side, his mouth appearing to hold back a smirk. Buffy instantly knew this look; he was going to say something patronizing that was going to royally piss her off.

“Which is it, Buffy? How’s it for me to have a wise mouth and say something stupid at the same time?”

The smirk he was holding back dissolved, when her eyes flashed with anger after his comment. He knew instantly he’d really pissed her off and in turn had dashed any hopes of engaging her in a war of words.

Even though this battle usually came during an argument, he always loved trading barbs with her. It was almost like foreplay for them. When she didn’t respond immediately, he knew he’d gone too far, and she was only going to turn and walk away.

Not wanting to watch her leave, he decided it was best to keep occupied while she did so. With a heavy sigh, he leaned over and snatched his jacket off the ground. Then to distract himself further, he turned and walked over to the shed, hanging his jacket on the doorknob.

Yup, that was it. Her blood was boiling! She hated it when he took her words literally and twisted them around making her feel completely stupid.

This, on top of her being stuck there without any chance of leaving until at least tomorrow, added the proverbial cherry on top of this shit sundae.

With all the confusing feelings she’d been having toward him and everything else that had been going on, she finally reached her breaking point.

Buffy squatted down and scooped up a handful of snow. Quickly, she formed a crude snowball and threw it at him. Despite her usually poor aim, the snowball hit him right on the side of the head near his hairline.

She hit me!

Will was in utter shock. It was more so from the boldness of her hitting him than the pain of actually being struck. Slowly, he turned to face her.

Buffy remained standing several feet away with her arms crossed defiantly across her chest. The look on her face was a combination of satisfaction and smugness.

“Did you just hit me with a snowball?” Will stared at her in disbelief, from both the act itself and the look of her complete amusement, as he wiped the clinging snow from his hair.

“I don’t know. Did I? You think you’re so smart, you tell me. Did I hit you with a snowball?” Clearly mocking him, Buffy raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders casually.

Will, without any other warning besides a noise sounding almost like a growl, charged her. Buffy, watching him and knowing retaliation fueled his actions, turned quickly and started scrambling toward the stairs.

Before she could make it to the steps, she felt his arms banding tightly around her waist. With ease, he hoisted her up into the air while she wriggled in his grasp. Will carried her away from the house before setting her down.

Buffy ran forward several feet before spinning around to face him. She watched him slowly staking toward her with pure mischief sparkling in his eyes. Quickly, she held up her hands in front of her but this didn’t deter him in the slightest.

“So you think you can hit me with snow on the side of my ‘ead and what? Run away without being punished? Silly, silly, little girl. You know me better than that.”

With every step closer he took, she matched his stride backward. Buffy’s eyes darted around frantically, looking for a way to get around him and back into the house without being punished.

This strangely promising word continued tumbling around in her mind, causing her to shudder at the thought of what this punishment might be.

Even though her inner slut screamed for whatever he had in store, knowing it would be unbelievably pleasurable, she still tried tamping her inner lust-bunny down. She also desperately tried to ignore how his words had her insides clenching and how her panties were now damp with anticipation.

“Um, no, I mean yes! Yes, to both questions! Look, when I threw it, I didn’t know I’d reach you. Never mind hit you! Wait, let’s make a deal. I’ll stand still, and you can throw all the snow you want at me. Or better yet, you can white wash me! That should more than make up for a little snowball to the head, right?”

Despite her words of compromise, he kept coming closer. Which in turn made her try to get further away. Her matching steps continued until her back unexpectedly met with the side of the shed.

The instant her body became flush with the wood, Will rushed forward and slammed his gloved palms on either side of her head, trapping her. His heated gaze flickered across her face, while holding her in this compromising position.

Buffy’s gaze remained fixed on him, as she watched and waited for him to make his move, what ever it might be.

Will lowered his head, like a predator with its prey, burying his nose in her hair as he began taking long draws to bring in her scent. With the combination of his closeness and this sensual act, Buffy’s lids fluttered closed from the mixture of anticipation and lust.

Even though he wasn’t touching her, the heat radiating from him had her on the verge in a matter of moments.

“Mmm…let’s see. So many places to start, each equally intriguing, but unfortunately, I can only choose one.”

Will’s deep voice, which almost sounded like a purr, made the promises of pleasure he whispered against the shell of her ear even more tempting. She felt as if he wanted to possess and devour her. In response, her suddenly dry lips parted as she felt a soft moan slipping past them.

Her inner slut screamed, Why choose one! Have them all!. These words sounded so loud. So loud in fact, she feared she had actually spoken them. Gradually, she opened her eyes to see Will’s reaction to gauge whether or not she had.

When her gaze met with Will’s intense stare, this concern and any other thoughts fell away. For the first time in years, Buffy felt a connection with him. It wasn’t the closeness of their bodies creating this, but the emotions radiating from his eyes. They shone with all the feelings she’d been longing to see.

His eyes moved from hers and started to flicker across her features, searching for something—permission perhaps? Once he found what he was looking for, he slowly lowered his mouth toward hers. When his lips hovered a hairsbreadth from their target, her steady, firm voice instantly stopped his descent.

“This won’t change anything, Will.”

Those words sounded so distant, yet by the feeling of her mouth and tongue moving, Buffy knew it was her who had said them. She’d decided it was the voice of reason coming from the deepest recesses of her mind, battling its way through all the lust and desire to make itself known.

Will jerked back as if her words had taken form and struck him across the face. He looked deeply wounded, both his pride and his heart injured from her words. The hurt flashed in his eyes only briefly, before replaced by another intense emotion— anger.

Buffy recognized this look instantly. She knew it all too well. Will used this false bravado and swagger as a shield, guarding him against all those that would hurt him. It was long ago, when he was known as Spike, that he lived by the belief: hurt someone before they hurt you. She could tell Spike was in control now.

“Is that right? Well, ‘m thinkin’ me givin’ you a phenomenal shag will change at least one thing. You won’t be such a right bitch!”

When these hateful words reached her ears, Buffy, acting out of pure instinct to get as far away from him as soon as possible, placed her hands on his chest to push him back.

The instant he felt her gloved hands on him, Will knew exactly what she was trying to do. Instinctively, he gripped her wrists tightly in order to hold her in place. He wasn’t allowing her to leave until he had spoken his piece.

“Yeah, I can tell it’s been awhile, pet. Been actin’ all innocent when you accidentally walked in on me while I was in the loo. We both know you were tryin’ to sneak a peek. There’s no shame in takin’ a gander but I can definitely give you so much more. I know what you need, Buffy. It hangs so heavy in the air. I can sense it, almost taste it. Bloody intoxicating it is.”

Buffy’s mind swam with conflicting feelings: lust, anger, shame, confusion, and a dozen more she couldn’t name. For so long she hoped and wished Will would be the man he once was—one whose mere presence made her body sing.

However, at this moment he was using his intimate knowledge against her. His nearness and words now were having the opposite effect—it infuriated her.

This time when Buffy tried to move him, she did. With a shove, Will stumbled back slightly before regaining his footing. Buffy remained rooted where she was, despite being free from his arms.

“What, you think we fall into bed and everything will be ok?” Buffy tried steadying her voice, hoping she sounded much braver than she felt.

“Well, yeah.” Will’s face split with a cocky grin as his eyes raked over her body, finally stopping when his eyes met hers.

“You’re mistaken. Sex won’t change anything. It might make things good for a little while, but in the end it always goes back to—and I can’t. Not again. I’m sorry, William.”

Buffy watched as Will’s face dropped, as the façade he so proudly wore moments ago vanished. Pure devastation was now in its place. Although her heart broke with the obvious pain her words had caused him, without a word, Buffy turned and headed back to the house.

With his eyes filling with tears, Will silently watched Buffy as she walked away. When she passed the threshold and slowly closed the door behind her, Will couldn’t bear it any longer.

From deep inside, his bottled-up pain and anger swelled before he released it as an inhuman scream. The heartbreaking sound pierced the midday sky, causing the birds roosted in the trees to take flight.

Once in the safety of the house, Buffy crumbled to the floor while her head spun with dozens of thoughts fueled by erratic emotions. Soon, every thought met its conclusion. Each ending with the same question, How?

How did our relationship come to this? How did our love and compassion twist into bitter contempt and coldness? How, when it came to love and men, was this her lot in life? Maybe it was, if she went by her past with love and loss.





The Past




Buffy clearly remembered the day her father left. She could hear them upstairs: her mother’s yelling riddled with sobs, mixed with her father’s ranting and the sounds of closet doors and bureau drawers opening and slamming shut.

She’d remained where she had been rooted since the fight began, standing in the middle of the living room with her eyes fixed on the family portrait hanging on the wall.

In the picture, there were three smiling faces, or more so, three toothy masks concealing the truth. Her parents always presented the illusion that they were the family to envy: a handsome husband with a lucrative career that kept his equally beautiful wife home with their lovely, intelligent daughter who excelled in school, was a cheerleader, and volunteered with the elderly.

It was all bullshit! In fact, the husband was a philander. He slept with girls half his age and unbeknownst to his family, twelve years ago, he’d knocked up his twenty-year old secretary. This left the beautiful mom, routinely dipping into the cooking sherry to deal with the reality of it all.

Then there was Buffy. At 16, she was barely passing her classes, kicked off the squad for fighting with the other cheerleaders, and she ditched “volunteering” time to go to the mall.

It was during that time she met an older guy named Angel. Like his name, Buffy saw him as her savior, someone to take her away from the sham that was her pathetic life.

As far as angels go, he was anything but. At first he was charming. He’d bought her things and showered her with attention. Since Buffy wasn’t used to this type of treatment, like an orchid under hothouse lights, she flourished. After several months of dating, she had given Angel the ultimate gift, her virginity.

Once he became a permanent fixture in her life, small glimpses of the real Angel came to light. Unfortunately, by this point, Buffy was too smitten to see them.

At first, he started by monopolizing her time and that eventually pushed all her friends away. Next, he started turning her against her family. Since things were already strained on the home front, this wasn’t a hard task. Finally, when he had her isolated, he released the monster lying beneath his warm brown eyes and previously cool exterior.

It started with name-calling and putdowns. Stupid, too skinny, whiny, a bad lay—these hurtful insults replaced his once tender words. Every one felt like a ton of bricks weighing on her self-confidence and dignity.

Soon, this once self assured, vibrant girl became a shell of who she was.

Sometimes, there were instances when the old her would shine through. It was then, when Angel took care of her quickly—using force. A shove here, a slap there, each time broke her a little more.

Before long, she’d become resigned to the fact this was her life. Until one day, she’d met someone who changed her life forever—her sister, Dawn.

Her father had taken her to a fancy restaurant to meet his fiancée—Who knew you could be engaged and married at the same time?— and it was then when he’d introduced her to a slender girl with long, brown hair and big, blue eyes.

Buffy wanted to hate her. She truly did. However, when this girl she’d never met before smiled and tried to shake her hand, Buffy realized they were both casualties of their parents’ tumultuous relationships. Foregoing her hand, Buffy pulled Dawn into a hug that she immediately returned.

It was from that point on Buffy had found something to fight for. She wanted to be the type of sister who was strong and independent, and this was not currently who she was.

With this newfound strength, two days later, she broke up with Angel. Then after many apologies and groveling, she’d gained back her friends and started mending the tattered relationships with her mother and father. She was on the path to getting back her life. Angel, on the other hand, had other ideas.

It started with late night phone calls at two or three am, when a shrilling ring echoing through the silent house startled her awake. But then when she answered, there was only silence on the other end. Gratefully, after a week of this, her mother changed the house number and requested it to be unlisted.

Then the stalking began. Buffy would be walking home from school, hanging out with her friends or even staying at home with her mom, and she would get this eerie sensation somebody was watching her. At first, she put off this feeling as being only her imagination.

That was until one night when she was studying at Willow’s, Angel emerged from the shadows and approached her mother as she was heading into the house with an armful of groceries.

Angel told her mother he missed and needed Buffy and that they had slept together. Bravely, though she was clearly rattled, her mother threatened him with the police and slammed the door in his face. The following day, Buffy and her mother went to the district court to file a restraining order against him.

After the threat of jail time and legal troubles, Angel finally disappeared. She didn’t know where he’d gone. He could’ve gone to hell for all she cared. All that mattered was he was finally history.

The rest of her time in high school she focused on her grades and friends. Gratefully, her mother stopped drinking and even more surprisingly, accepted Dawn. Buffy was amazed at how valiantly her mom declared that despite Dawn not being her child, she loved her and saw her as one of her own.

In the fall after graduation, Buffy had started college. Despite how strong and independent she’d felt, she still remained the unsure sixteen-year-old when it came to romantic relationships.

During the next four years and after several unmemorable relationships, she’d sworn off men completely. Well, that was until she met Will.

She tried to keep him at arm’s length. She really did. But in typical Will-style, he wiggled his way into her life and even more so, her heart. From the moment she surrendered herself to loving this passionate man, her world turned from one of black and white to full living color. Everything seemed brighter, tasted better, felt more intense.

Their whirlwind relationship took everyone, even themselves, by surprise. They moved in together within a month of dating and married six months afterward. Within the next few years, they went from rags to riches and everything was finally coming together, until—




The Present




Buffy brushed away the fresh tears trailing down her cheeks. Even with all the time that had passed, the pain of her loss was still soul deep.

Thankfully, she had friends and family who gave her their unwavering support. They never pushed or pried; they were just there when she needed them. Alas, the one person who she’d needed the most wasn’t.

Before her mind headed down the long-established path of anger and resentment, an unfamiliar realization came to her. It was true, Will wasn’t there for her, but was she truly there for him? The whole time she had people supporting her, who did he have to share his feelings and pain with?

Sure he had Doyle and Giles, but Will didn’t have the emotional comfort that only his wife could really give.

In that moment, Buffy realized what she had to do. She needed to be Will’s pillar of strength. In the past, she had relied heavily on other people to lean on. This time, she needed to harness her inner strength and share this with him.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped away the remaining wetness from her face and stood. With determination, she walked to the door and stepped onto the porch.

Buffy noticed Will was leaning against the shed. His eyes remained closed as a cloud of smoke swirled around his head from the cigarette resting between his full lips.

Will’s eyes opened as the crunching snow under foot announced her approach. His weary gaze met hers, but before he could say a word, Buffy bravely took the lead.

“Will, we really need to talk.”







Chapter End Notes:
Despite how I glossed over Buffy's relationship with Angel, I, no way, shape, or form take domestic violence lightly. I only did so since her relationship with Angel was merely told for the readers to understand Buffy's past, and it is not the focus of this story. I would really love to know whatcha think. *batting lashes*



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