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MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 11: ‘Forgiveness’


Spike lay, next to Buffy in their bed, watching her sleep; the sleep of innocents he liked to call it. Because if anyone was innocent, it was his Buffy. Earlier, in her makeshift studio, Buffy had tried to explain away the black armour he wore in her painting of him, as being part of the unfinished work. Her nervous half smiles and quick explainations did little to appease his curiosity, they only heightened it. “Will,” she’d stammered nervously, “it’s only a silly painting, not even very good at all. Heck, I’ll probably never even finish it. Please don’t put so much importance on such a trivial thing.” He had let the subject drop and picked her up in his arms, carrying her into this very bed to make love, he’d missed her so much during the evening, after all.

With a sigh, he got up from their bed, careful not to wake his Princess, and padded out out onto the balcony to have a smoke, pulling his boxers on as he went. Staring out at the black waters of the Pacific Ocean, he thought back to a few weeks ago and that moment in London when he’d found out that Buffy was not taking those placebos. To say he had been dissapointed would be an understatement, actually, he’d hoped that her dizzy spells and fatigue were sure signs that she was pregnant. But, no such luck; fate had come and kicked him in the arse, causing his little plan to fail. Failure was not something Spike Giles was used to.


Flashback Spike’s POV


Xander Harris had been right, The Blue Whale Inn was elegant and perfect for what Spike had in mind with Buffy tonight. ‘Now if only Buffy would get on the same page as me,’ he mused as he watched her scurry around the suite, checking every little detail. “It’s beautiful, Will!” she cried, gleefully, “like a fairy tale or something!” Buffy hurried over to the french doors that led to the balcony, that set right over the waves of the Pacific. “Oh, Will,” she gasped, “you’ve got to see this! It’s magnificent!” Anything to oblige Buffy Summers, Spike sauntered over to the doors to where she stood, unbuttoning his shirt along the way. As much as he was born and raised to be a business man, Spike still preferred tee shirts, black especially, and jeans to the clothes trappings of the ‘Wall Street’ types. He walked up behind her and let his hands rest on either side of her shoulders, “yes,” he whispered softly in her ear, “it’s beautiful, but no where as lovely as you.” If he didn’t know better, he could swear he felt her tremble beaneath his hands right then.

He felt Buffy make a slight movement, as if to pull away from him, but he held her fast. “You don’t have to slip away from me, luv,” he purred soothingly, “I won’t bite, you know.” From his vantage point, he could see her bite her lower lip, nervously; she seemed to ponder something. “I told you, I’m not going to sleep with you William,” she finally said, firmly. “I didn’t know standing on a balcony, looking at the sea constituted two people sleeping together,” he chuckled, “I must’ve missed a class or something.” Buffy seemed to relax a little, rewarding him with a gentle laugh for his silly joke. Spike decided to take advantage of the relaxed moment and turned her gently to face him. When he could look directly into her gorgeous green eyes, he lowered his mouth down to hers and kissed her, almost chastely, right on her plump, lucious pink lips. “Oh,” she murmered softly, her eyes wide with surprise; which he took to mean ‘go ahead, kiss me more, Will.’ However, when he went back for more, she ‘did’ pull away from him abruptly, “I need to go to sleep,” she mumbled and hurried past him into the bedroom. Spike sighed and even flinched when he heard the bedroom door close, rather loudly, behind her.

Pulling a cigarette out of his pant’s pocket, Spike lit it and took a deep drag, enjoying the simple, deadly pleasure of the smoke. He stared out at the ocean, feeling rather lonely and quite sorry for himself, indeed, that Buffy hadn’t fallen for what he considered some pretty smooth moves. "God but she’s a stubborn little thing,” he thought, smiling despite his dissapointment, “but I know she’s worth the bloody wait and when she comes around, it’ll be paradise.” Spike heard the water from the suite’s shower turn on and laughed slightly, thinking how nice it would be to join Buffy in the bath. “Might as well hit the sack,” he reasoned, stubbing out the cigarette in a receptacle on the balcony and closing the french doors behind him. First he made sure that Buffy was still in the shower, then he stripped down to his boxers and checked the closet for extra bed covers, happily finding them. Then he went around the suite, checking locks and even end table drawers. Finally the shower water ceased to run and he heard Buffy exit the bathroom and head into the bedroom that was attached. Making sure she was truly out of the bathroom, he headed in himself and took a shower too, but only after investigating the huge medicine cabinet over the sink and the drawers on the vanity. It was in his nature to check on such details and when he glanced in the medicine cabinet, he had to laugh at what he found there. “Not much need for that tonight!” he sighed.

After his quick shower, Spike listened in at Buffy’s bedroom door and heard absolute silence, also there was no light shining through the bottom of the door itself. “Asleep,” he thought, again dissapointed, “I doubt if I can sleep tonight. Knowing she’s in bed in the next room. Pismo Beach was hard enough, now this.” He went out the french doors and had another cigarette, only after he poured himself a shot of whiskey from the bar in the suite. Downing the shot in one gulp, he lit his cigarette and watched the moonlight play on the ocean waves. When he finished his smoke, he reshut the doors to the balcony and laid down on the plush sofa, pulling the bed clothes over him and trying not to think about the Princess asleep in the next room. “This is going to be a long night,” he sighed, adjusting his boxers to be more comfortable even as he closed his eyes to sleep.

Present Day


Buffy had an early class that morning and she had to hurry to get there on time. The little drama that had played out between her and William the night before, over that damn painting, had taken it’s toll on her. She tried to explain it away, the black armour, her interpretation of Will as a Knight and all, but he hadn’t bought it, she was sure. He had let the subject drop, but she could tell, it bothered him, even after they’d made love. While she feigned sleep, much later, Will had risen from their bed to go smoke, but he was gone far too long for just one cigarette and Buffy was sure he was out ‘worrying’ about the painting, her art classes and many things in general. ‘Why shouldn’t he?’ she asked herself sadly, ‘there’s a lot to worry about.’ As much as she loved William Giles, and as much as she’d tried for a long time now to battle her inner fears regarding his controlling nature; it was a battle she was losing, daily.

She hurried through the quad, trying to make up the time she’d spent oversleeping at home and almost running to make the class on time. Just before she entered the building that housed her first class of her schedule, she heard a voice from her past calling out to her, stopping her dead in her tracks. “Buffy?” the voice repeated, unsure, almost apologetic. Buffy turned around, fully aware of just who was calling to her. The sight of the large dark-haired man in front of her confirmed her suspicions. “Hello, Angel,” she greeted, evenly. “Hey, Buff,” he responded, warmly.

“What are you doing here, Angel?” she asked, hoping that he wasn’t enrolled in classes and wondering when he’d gotten out of prison. Angel took a step closer to her and she now saw that he’d lost quite a lot of weight in prison, his face was leaner, his body thinner and his usually longish hair was shorn much shorter then before. “I’m here to see you Buffy,” he answered softly, “I need to tell you something, more like ask you something really.” Buffy gave him a puzzled look, “how did you know I was here?” He explained, briefly, that he’d kept up on her through Oz, who had kept in touch with his ex-girlfriend Willow, even after she’d left him for Tara. “I need to ask a favour of you Buffy,” he whispered, coming even closer to her. She glanced around, nervously, making sure enough people were around to hear or see anything that might take place. “What is it, Angel?” she asked simply. “I need you to forgive me, Buffy,” he began, mumbled really, “I need you to forgive me for being such a prick to you and screwing up both our lives back then. I know it’s hard to do that, just like I know you have a really great life now, with that Billy guy, but please, if you could just forgive me, or say you do. I can move on and start my life over again, in LA that is, working for my Dad now.”

Buffy plopped down on a nearby bench and Angel followed her lead, sitting down right next to her. “I needed to see you, Buff. Needed to know you forgive me for screwing up so much then, that and I wanted to know that you’re really okay.” She nodded, rather then said anything to him. “Prison was a nightmare, Buffy,” he continued, “it was freakin’hell, actually, but I did learn some things about life and about myself.” When she didn’t say anything, he took it as a signal to go on. “I learned that you have to be responsible for your own actions; that no one can save you, you have to save yourself. And, that there’s so many kinds of prisons, mostly the ones you create for yourself.” That really hit home with Buffy, but she just stared ahead, concentrating on the grass covered quad in front of them. “Anyway,” he sighed, “I just wanted to see you, make sure you’re okay; which, by the way, you look great! And, ask you to forgive me.” He finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Buffy murmered, “and yes, Angel, I forgive you for everything. I just hope that you can go on to LA and make some kind of decent new life for yourself.” She felt his gaze on her and turned to look at him, “so,” he chuckled softly, “you and Billy, huh?” Buffy rolled her eyes at him, “it’s actually William, but yes, we’ve been together for three…..” Angel looked away suddenly and Buffy stopped her sentence, ‘three years’ she thought, ‘that’s odd, just the same amount of time since you went to jail?’ “I need to get to class,” she said abruptly, standing up. “Take care, Angel and good luck.” As she walked away, quickly, she heard him call behind her, “I’ll always love you, Buffy. Please just be happy.”

Spike paced back and forth in the apartment, anxiously waiting for Buffy to get home. He hadn’t mentioned Angel being out of prison or in Sunnydale again to her and he was more then worried about what would happen if Buffy and Angel happen to meet up. “Where the fuck is she? He asked the air around him for the twentieth time as he checked his rolex. “She should have been home over thirty minutes ago.” His cell phone broke his train of thought and he grabbed it from the coffee table, almost frantic, hoping it was Buffy calling. It was Charles Gunn. “Spike,” came Gunn’s strong voice, but different then usual, almost subdued for once. “What is it?” Spike asked gruffly, more then sure that ‘something’ wasn’t right here. “It’s about Angel,” Charles stammered, “and Buffy. There’s been a situation.”

If Spike had Charles Gunn right in front of him at that very moment, he’d have kicked the crap out of him just for general purposes. Instead, he had to be content to scream at his best employee, calling him every filthy name known to mankind. “What about Buffy? Quit being so bloody cryptic Charles!” he shouted, not caring if any of the neighbors heard, although that would be pretty impossible, he’d had their apartment soundproofed. “Angel, man,” Charles hesitated a moment, then, “the guy tailing Angel said he met up with Buffy at Sunnydale University earlier today.” Spike once again experienced that blinding white heat anger.

Buffy unlocked the apartment door, almost wary of going inside. She knew she ‘had’ to tell Will about Angel being at school today, but she didn’t know how to broach the subject. Her lover hated Angel almost as much as he loved money and power; a real lethal ‘love/hate’ relationship to be sure. When she went inside, she noticed right off that something was wrong. The whole front living room was clouded in cigarette smoke, which was odd, considering Will never smoked inside. That and the fact that Mr. Gordo was not at his usual station on the couch, added to the fact that the three couch cushions were flung in three different directions of the room and on the floor. Then, there was Will’s paperwork, torn into pieces and strewn about the carpet like confetti. All in all, it was a pretty ‘scary’ welcoming that Buffy got when she came home over an hour later then usual.

“Buffy!” came Will’s voice from their bedroom and she had no choice but to follow it in there. When she opened the door of the bedroom, she found Will sprawled out on their bed, half naked and apparently stone faced drunk, an empty bottle of whiskey beside him. “Will?” she whispered, standing at the door of the room, almost afraid to go inside. “Where the fuck have you been?” he growled, never taking his eyes off of her. They looked very red and very angry. “At school,” she whispered, timidly, “I helped Tara after class. I wanted to call, didn’t want to bother your work, though.” He reached over to the end table and grabbed his glass, downing the alcohol in one gulp, he tossed the empty glass on the floor, next to the empty bottle. “How thoughtful of you, Princess,” he slurred, “but you’re such a thoughtful little thing, aren’t you?” Mr. Gordo looked up at Buffy, from his ‘hiding’ place under the divan, as if to ask ‘what the hell!’

“Come ‘ere!” he commanded her, but she didn’t move, something told her to stand her ground and not get any closer to him. This wasn’t Will, she could tell. This was Spike in full bloom. “Get the fuck over here!” he shouted, bolting up in the bed and holding out his arms to her. “No,” she mumbled looking away from him, “you’re drunk Will, really drunk and I won’t even try to talk to you like this.” But before she could even get halfway through the living room, he grabbed her from behind and spun her around to face him. “Don’t you ever turn your back on me little girl!” he screamed, just inches from her face. Will!” she cried out, “you’re hurting me. Get your damn hands off me!” she ordered angrily.


“When were you going to tell me that your fucking ex tracked you down at school?” he roared, bringing her face to within an inch of his. Spike was beyond pissed at this moment, he was enraged. He neglected to realize, at that moment, that he hadn’t really given her time to say anything. Before she could answer, he growled, “and for the record, I’ll put my ‘damn hands’ on you, anywhere on you anytime I like. Remember who you belong to little girl!” Buffy stopped struggling and stared at him, opened mouth and apparently in shock. “Oh, God Will,” she whimpered, looking paler by the second. He could see tiny tears begin at the corner of her beautiful eyes, just threatening to spill onto her flushed cheeks. However, this time they didn’t melt his cold heart, they just infuriated him more. “Tell me!” he commanded again, controlling the urge to shake her, “were you even going to tell me Buffy? Do I have to have ‘you’ followed now, too?”

“What do you mean, have me followed now too?” she gasped, wild-eyed, “and how did you know that I saw Angel today?” He just glared at her, the gold flecks in his eyes flashed brightly with anger and mistrust. “Just how do you think I know?” he snarled, “I had the prick followed as soon as I found out he’d gotten out of prison. What am I supposed to do Buffy? Let him stroll back into town and hurt you again?” Buffy began to shake all over and the threatening tears turned into a stream that washed down her face and soaked the front of her sweater. “He was just here to ask me to forgive him, Will,” she choked, “probably some thing with a twelve-step program. He’s moving to LA, in fact, he’s probably there now. I’m sure you know that, having him followed around and all.”

Spike controlled his urge to shake her, again, and took a deep breath. “Look,” he tried to speak calmly, but failed miserably, his voice was like gravel and he was shaking now too, from rage. “This guy is no good, you know that. Of course I’d want to protect you from him, after what he did and…..” Buffy stuck out her chin defiantly, “he’s paid his dues, Will. He want’s to start a new life, in LA, let it go.” She finished with a whimper and finally pulled away from him. “You’re defending him now!” he cried in disbelief and hurt. “No!” she shouted back, “I’m saying let it go, let the past go, Will!” He ran his hand through his mussed hair, more out of nervous anger then anything else, “I just want to protect you, baby,” he said defensively, that’s why I called Charles Gunn and told him to…..” She looked at him, horrified, “you what? What did you do, Will?” Spike turned his back on her, “nothing for now, he muttered, but I’ll do anything I have to protect you,” he said harshly, “to protect ‘us’,” he whispered.

Buffy grabbed at him frantically, “you don’t need to protect me Will. I can handle myself. As for Angel, he hasn’t been a threat to either one of us since before our first night at the Blue Whale Inn. Promise me, Will,” she pleaded, “promise me you’ll not go after Angel, not ever. He’s no threat to us, I promise you that. If you love me, like you say you do, you’ll call off Charles Gunn and whoever else you’re paying to follow him or hurt him!” Will turned back around to face her and placed his hands on either side of her face, gently this time, “I promise, Princess. I’ll call off the dogs on Angel, I’ll let it go. As long as he stays away from you and Sunnydale, I know he’s no threat to you or us.” She read his eyes, the mirrors to the soul and found the truth there. “Okay,” she sighed and allowed him to pull her into his needy embrace.


Will picked her up in his strong arms and carried her to their bedroom, tenderly laying her on the bed. He lay down beside her and wrapped his arms about her, gently spooning her into his own body. “I love you so much, Buffy,” he whispered in her ear as he stroked her little body tenderly. “Can’t bear to lose you, you know that. I know I’m a rude, bad man sometimes, but know that I love you more then anything in the world and only want what’s best for you. Do you believe me, Princess?” He gazed soulfully into her tear stained eyes and looked for the answers he so desperately needed. “Yes,” she murmered softly, touching his cheek with her warm little hand, “I believe you Will, about everything.”



A/N: I actually wrote two chapters in this, then rewrote the first one and am keeping the second for later. Please review this story, writers love reviews, even ones that are honestly done to help improve the fic.

Oh, another question. Actually, my forte seems to be ‘period pieces’ and I wondered if anyone on the Spuffy Realm site would be interested in fics like these. I have two complete ones and one going now. They did ‘so/so’ on another site and I realize that a lot of readers don’t care for period pieces in general. Please let me know if I should submit a fiction titled: ‘Rebel Hearts’ here? Thank you so much.
Thanks,
Luv, Spuf





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