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MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 12: ‘Realizations!’


A/N: Metaphors abound in this chapter, which, by the way, I hesitated to submit so soon after the last one, but I just had to for a lot of reasons. Thanks, Luv, Spuf


Buffy woke up around 2:00 AM the next morning, feeling much like someone who had drank way too much alcohol the night before. To put it politely, her ass felt kicked and she was hungover, but not from any kind of wine or other booze. Will was sound asleep beside her and she was grateful for that, he’d begged her forgiveness so many times the night before, that she had grown weary of it. Actually, his forceful attempts at ‘making things better’ had begun to wear very thin with her and she was relieved that he was ‘dead to the world’ at the moment. Frankly, Buffy was over wrought, over stressed and over sated, sexually, thanks to her lover. By 3:45 AM, Buffy realized she was not going back to sleep, so she slipped out of their bed, pulling on her blue silk robe, not waking Will and wondered into her ‘studio.’

The half finished portrait of William Giles stared at her, somehow mocking her to ‘finish’ it. Buffy picked up her ‘palette’ of paint colors and began to work on the painting, starting with Will’s face. She quickly shadowed the area under his beautiful blue eyes, with a charcoal gray shade. His mouth, where the lips had once been an even plane were now shaped into a triumphant smirk, much like Spike’s. She began an outline of the dark tower of a castle behind William, something she’d have to finish later, but wanted to get started on right now. Then, before she set the palette down, she stared at Will’s chest, his black armour gleamed in contrast to his platnium hair. That was when she remembered something poor Drusilla had rambled on about a few weeks before in England.


Flashback Buffy’s POV


Buffy lay in the big, plush bed of the Blue Whale Inn, staring at the ceiling. She had succeeded in convincing William that she was not interested in sleeping with him, in fact, she seemed to have convinced him that she was sound asleep in the Suite’s bedroom, but she wasn’t. Unfortunately, she was wide awake at that moment and wondering if Will was up and about also. The shower in the bathroom had alerted her to the fact that he was more then up, then, even listening in at her door when he was finished bathing. There was a moment, briefly, when she thought he might just open the bedroom door and join her in the big bed, but he didn’t. He just sighed, she heard it, and went back into the living room quarters of the Suite. “Wonder if he’s still awake,” she asked herself, “wonder if I want him to be?” Therein laid the problem, in a nutshell, Buffy ‘wanted’ William Giles, truly, but she was more then afraid of what that meant in the long run. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, Buffy got up from the bed, pulled her little black slip over her naked body and slipped out into the front living area. “Just to talk to him,” she assured herself, “really.”

Padding softly out into the living room area, Buffy saw William half laying, half sitting up on the couch, his lower part covered with some makeshift bed clothes he must have found. Although he gave the appearance of someone asleep, his eyes were half opened and Buffy felt confident enough to try and speak to him. “Will?” she whispered into the half light that surrounded him, “can we talk?” He looked over at her, a half smile on his handsome face, “sure, Princess,” he responded as he sat up even more, careful to keep his bottom half covered, decently. Buffy shuffled over to the couch and sat down next to him, careful not to let their bodies touch in any way. “I think we need to really have a good talk, Will,” she mumbled, too shy to really look him in the face. “Too right,” he agreed, “we definitely need to talk, luv.”

She sat on the plush couch, actually, she sat on the blanket that Will had put over the couch and stared at the coffee table before them. “Do you want me?” she asked suddenly, embarrassed by her own frankness. “Course I do,” he stated matter-of-factly, “but only on your terms Buffy.” “I have to tell you, though, luv, you’re pushing the envelope sitting so close to me in that stunning little slip of yours,” he chuckled. Buffy blushed red hot and then finally looked over at him; he was staring right at her, his expression an open book. “I want you too know,” she began quietly, “I want you to know that there’s a lot of stuff up here in my mind.” She pointed to her head and gave him a timid smile. “And I’d appreciate it if you would just sit and listen, hear me out and not say anything until I’m done with what I have to say. Can you do that?” ‘Yes’ he nodded solemly, taking one of her hands in his.

“First off,” she began tentively, “I want you to know that I find you extremely attractive, sexually, physically, mentally, everything.” She could just see the hope in his eyes when she’d finished, so she put her hand up to stop him from saying anything. “But,” she continued firmly, “I’m more then afraid that if I ‘give in’ to you, or act on our feelings that you’ll think I’m easy or something.” Will chuckled, despite himself, “you’re anything but easy, Princess,” he sighed, breaking his earlier promise not to say anything. Buffy shot him a warning look, but continued, “second, I’m a little ‘unsure’ of myself right now. After what Angel said to me, accused me of, it’s hard to feel really sexually attractive to anyone right now.” Buffy watched Will’s jaw clench tightly at the mention of Angel’s name and realized she probably shouldn’t have brought him into the mix. The problem was, he was in the mix, all of his hateful/hurtful words had taken a toll on her and she wasn’t feeling exactly desirable at the moment.

“I just don’t feel very ‘sexy’ anymore and I think if we did, you know, sleep together, that you might feel cheated or dissapointed.” She finished on a sad little note, her voice barely a strangled whisper, her eyes averted from his. Suddenly, he clasped her firmly and pulled her onto his lap, holding her onto him. “Does this feel like you’re not sexy or desirable?” he rasped, pulling her wiggling bottom onto his lap where she could feel his very hard cock, even through the blankets. Straddling William, surprisingly, Buffy stared in wide-eyed shock at him, “well no!” she gasped, finally. Will didn’t waste a moment, he slammed his lips down onto hers in a crushing kiss that literally took both of their breaths away. “I…..” she stammered, “I don’t know, Will, it’s kind of soon and…..”

“We don’t have to make love,” he purred, continuing his assault on her lips and neck, in that order, “just let me sleep in the same bed as you. I swear to God, Buffy, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” Buffy believed him, with all of her heart and soul, she believed he’d only do what she wanted him to. Nodding her head, she let him pick her up, from his sitting position and carry her into the bedroom. Before he lay her on the bed, he stood her up in front of him and pulled the little slip off of her, slowly, gently. “God,” he gasped, “you’re beautiful!” Buffy blushed profusely, remembering that all she wore underneath the slip was her thong, she’d removed the strapless bra before she went to bed. “I,” she began shyly, but he shushed her, “let’s just lay down together,” he murmered, leaning her back against the bed. “It’s okay, luv, like I said, won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“Buffy, can I tell you something?” William whispered to her; he was laying spooned up against her, wearing nothing but his boxers. To say that Buffy was ‘aware’ of Will’s closeness to her would have to be an undertatement. She was ‘very aware’ of his closeness, so much so that she had wriggled away from him several times. However, somehow his body kept creeping up on hers and right now if he was any closer to her, they’d be having sex, whether they meant to or not. “Okay,” she whispered in response, her back cuddled up next to his front. “I want you to know,” he began carefully, “that I could never think of you as easy or a pushover or any term that describes those things. I think of you as a warm, lovely young woman who has so much to offer the right man, but only if that man has the right stuff to offer you. As far as your fears about being sexy enough, or desirable in bed, I think you should realize that you don’t have the problem. It’s your ex, Angel, that has the problem. Some men, I’m sorry to say, feel so unsure or insecure within themselves that they have to try and knock womens’ self esteem down to cover their own insecurities or weaknesses. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you don’t have an issue, it’s your ex that has the issue. Please give that some thought and try not to kick yourself in the arse over the deficiencies in other people.”

“Okay, Will” she whispered contented, snuggling deeper into his body with her own. She felt his long fingers skim down her bare arms and it sent shivers through her whole body. “Do you mind if I touch you like this,” he murmered in her ear, tickling it in the process. Buffy could barely shake her head in answer, much less verbalize her okay to him. He continued to stroke her arms and the side of her body, careful not to go anywhere near her breasts or front side. Finally, after about five minutes of this and the silent tension that had built up, she turned herself over to face Will, effectively positioning his hands right on her breasts. “Uhm, you better be careful, sweetheart,” he mumbled, actually blushing and looking delighted at the same time, “I have a lot of control, but I am only a man after all.” Buffy wrapped her arms around his chest, which reminded her of a sculpture in her art books, “I’m counting on that, the man part anyway,” she purred, nuzzling his cheek with her lips.


Present Day


Spike woke up in bed, alone. An immediate sense of panic rose from his chest and up into his throat causing him to bolt up from the bed, “Buffy!” he called, a little too loudly. He listened for the shower in the bathroom, when he didn’t hear the water running, he leapt from the bed and nearly ran into the front room, glancing around frantically for her. “I’m in here, Will,” she called softly, just loud enough for him to hear her. “Jesus,” Spike sighed to himself, relieved that Buffy was painting in her little studio and not gone out somewhere. “It’s so early for you, Princess,” he said as he entered the extra bedroom and slipped up behind her. Wrapping his arms about her waist, he kissed her on the back of her head, breathing in the vanilla scent of her shampoo. “Trying to finish it?” he asked her, unecessarily, just wanting to talk with her, about anything at this point. She just shrugged and continued painting, causing Spike to flinch in hurt, “she’s still pissed about last night,” he reasoned to himself, “I’m gonna have to really make this one up to her.”

Buffy was putting the finishing touches on some kind of symbol, a crest or something, right in the middle of the his black armour. Right on the chest of the William in the portrait, that is. It was green and red, looked like some kind of an animal? ‘I hate that damned black armour,’ he mused with a pout to himself, ‘makes me look evil or something. Wish she’d repaint it silver, at least.’ They stood together, silently for a few minutes while she finished up the crest on the armour, finally she sighed, “done with that part, anyway,” and began to clean her brushes. “What is that crest, Buffy?” he asked, perplexed by the creature in the middle, squinting to see her finished product. “It’s the sign of ‘Dragul’ Will,” she said softly, busy with her cleaning, not even giving him a glance. “Dragul?” Spike mumbled, “The Dragon? That’s well, rather interesting,” he smiled at her, still confused as bloody hell. “Thanks,” she said answered simply with a sad little smile on her pretty face. Saying nothing more, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving him behind at the easel.

They ate breakfast in total silence, she concentrated solely on her food while Will just picked at his. Most of the time, he sat and watched her, a puzzled look on his face. Actually, the whole thing was beginning to unnerve Buffy, causing her to sigh and clear her plate from the little kitchen table, her food only half finished. Finally she asked him, “are you going to the office today?” She didn’t bother to turn around and face him, she just continued cleaning her plate in the sink. “Yeah,” he answered, indifferently. “What are you going to do today?” he asked. “I don’t know,” she sighed, “being Friday, I don’t have classes at all today, so I guess I’ll just hang out here.” Will stood up and placed his dishes in the sink then took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered huskily, “I’m such a bloody fool where you’re concerned and that whole mess yesterday, well it just brought my stupidity full front. Please, forgive me, Buffy, please.”

Will looked so darn cute right then, contrite and so very sorry, like a little boy who’d just broken his Mother’s favorite vase or something. “I told you, last night, several times Will that I forgive you. Can we just please drop it now and go on from here. I understand that you were worried, it’s over, done with. Let’s just let it go, okay?” Buffy looked deeply into those gorgeous blue eyes of his and felt her heart skip at least three beats, and she hugged him tightly. ‘I’m doomed,’ she thought with a sinking feeling her her tummy, ‘I’m as tied to him as he is to me.’ “Okay, Princess,” Will whispered into her ear, “I’ll never talk of it again, promise.” He pulled her chin up to face him, “hey,” he smiled at her, “I’ve got this brilliant idea, baby. Why don’t I go work my arse off at the office today, you go and buy out the Sunnydale Mall. We’ll go out if you want, for dinner tonight, drink, eat and be merry and all that. What do you say, Buffy sweetheart?” She smiled at him, “I say okay, Will, darling.”

Spike sat in his office that afternoon, thinking back to the events earlier in the day. His computer was turned off, he’d ordered Mrs. Kruger not to put any calls through to him. He just sat at his desk, chain smoking and staring at the blank computer screen, thinking about Buffy and him. “I’ve got to do something,” he grumbled, “I’m losing her, I know it and I can’t have that. I can’t live without her.” He could feel the beginnings of panic rise up in him and he forced himself to push the fear back down. “Don’t need to go ballistic again,” he told himself, “I can fix this. I can get Buffy to marry me somehow, I just have to set the right scenario up.” Without hesitation, Spike reached into his right top drawer of the desk and pulled out the Tiffanis’ box that he’d kept in there for over two years now. Opening it, he looked again at the ring he’d bought the first time he’d asked Buffy to marry him. His Buffy had admired the cut of this ring once, back then and Spike had commissioned Tiffanis to make a close replica of it. Unfortunately, his bride-to-be was unwilling to accept the ring at the time, so Spike put it here, in his desk and had waited all this time to offer it to her again.

Suddenly, a thought came to Spike and he speed dialed Xander, at The Chateau, on his cell phone. “Xander,” he greeted his friend excitedly, even before the poor guy could get out a hello, “I need your help. I want to take Buffy to The Chateau, tomorrow night, for a very special dinner and I want everything to be just perfect. Best table, best wine, no, make that champagne and the make sure the head chef makes chocolate mousse for desert, Buffy loves it, you know.” Xander listened to Spike ramble on, then finally interrupted, “I’m thinking, friend,” he chuckled, “that you’re going to pop the question, again, right?” Spike laughed happily, “right, mate and this time I know she’ll say yes!”

Buffy returned to the apartment, around 3:00 PM, her heart heavy, just like the packages she carried. She had pretty much done what Will had suggested, bought out the Sunnydale Mall and usually, that would have made her very happy. However, it hadn’t done the trick today, not even her new leather jacket was going to ‘make this all better.’ With a sigh, she dropped her purchases on the bed and checked the answering machine for any messages. The green light blinked at her, alerting her to at least one message for her. Punching the little listen button, she immediately heard her OB/GYN’s, Dr. Denisof’s professional voice on the machine. “Buffy Summers, it’s Dr. Denisof,” his tone sounded ‘odd’ to her today. “I would like you to call my office immediately when you get this message, it’s very important. I would like to talk to you personnally, but at least call me, again, immediately.”

Following Dr.’s orders, Buffy immediately returned his call, asking his receptionist if she could talk directly to Dr. Denisof. “Of course, he’s expecting your call,” came the efficient girl’s response. “Buffy?” the good Doctor’s concerned tone alarmed her, “I really need to discuss something with you, it’s very important. Can you come to my office, now?” By this point, Buffy was terrified of what this whole thing meant, “can you tell me over the phone, Dr. Denisof?” she whispered, trying not to show the panic in her voice. He hesitated, then finally agreed to discuss the ‘problem’ over the line with her. “First off Buffy,” he began carefully, “I want you do know, you’re not sick or anything, far from it, so please don’t be worried about that.” She sighed, taking a deep breath of relief, “then what is it?” Again the Doctor was momentarily silent, “it’s about your old perscription, the one we replaced with stronger birth control pills.”

Now Buffy was just plain confused, she’d flushed almost all of the old perscription down the toilet, like he’d told her to. All that she kept out was the one package that she’d given Dr. Denisof to have analyzed, at the lab, just as he had requested. He had wanted to find out why the pills were giving her those strange side affects. “I thought you had that one packaged analyzed, Dr.,” she stammered, “did you find something wrong with the pills?” A strange shiver went down Buffy’s back, the very moment that the Dr. answered her. “Buffy, those pills you gave me, the lab tested them, I just got the results back. I don’t know how to tell you this, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how this happened, but…..” She tensed up, her head was beginning to ache and her tummy felt really weird. “Buffy, they were placebos,” Dr. Denisof sounded as stunned as she did. “Placebos?” she asked weakly not sure of what that meant.

“Well, basically sugar pills, nothing, they do nothing. I can’t imagine how those got perscribed to you, some mistake in the drug company’s facility? I’m just so puzzled and frankly terribly embarrassed over it,” his voice relayed his turmoil. “It’s okay, Dr.,” she answered evenly, covering the urge to throw up right there, “I understand these things happen sometimes, it’s just fortunate that we caught it in time. Thank you.” She hung up the phone, mechanically, strode into the bathroom and proceeded to throw up violently for the next thirty minutes.


A/N: Well, it seems that Spike’s stupidity just caught up with him. I know the whole ‘analyzed the pills’ thing was really a stretch, but I had to have a way for Buffy to find out what had happened! Forgive me?
Thanks for reading and please review. Luv, Spuf





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