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MAKE HER OWN WAY


Another A/N: A couple of ‘other’ characters from BTVS will be introduced in this chapter. They are only mention right now, but will show up in future chapters. Thanks S


Chapter 3: ‘Don’t Ever Go Away From Me’


Spike got up before the sun rose that morning, he never could sleep past 6:00 AM, even on days when he didn’t go into the office. Buffy and him had made love until well past midnight, but he was well rested; not surprising really, she always exhausted him physically. He had already showered, made coffee and smoked a cigarette by 7:00, even while he let Buffy sleep in. She had been so tired the night before, a bit distracted, he thought, too. Something was bothering her, he could tell, but he had an uneasy feeling about questioning her on it. He was afraid that whatever ‘it’ was that was bothering his Princess, might turn out to be something he could not handle. Dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black tee shirt, he didn’t even bother to comb his damp hair before he sat down on the balcony to drink his coffee, chain smoke and read the Wall Street Journal.

‘God Save the Queen’ rang out from his cell phone that he sat next to the ashtray on the glass table. Glancing at his rolex, he noted it was now 7:15 AM, “who the bloody hell is that!” he grumbled, clearly annoyed. Everyone that worked for him knew all too well not to bother him when he was at Buffy’s and his place, not ever. He had actually fired a new hire, Johnathan Levy, once, when the clueless little man had innocently called him while he was here with Buffy. It was only 8:30 or so at night, but Spike had gone ballistic, he didn’t care if the idiot had an important message from Rupert Giles or not. At the moment, Spike remembered clearly, he had been making oral love to Buffy on their living room sofa and this little Levy moron called right when she was about to cum. Only after calling Johnathan every name in the book, screaming loud enough to wake the dead, Spike fired him right over the phone.

Spike chuckled at the memory of that whole dramatic episode. His wise little Buffy let the matter go until the next afternoon that is. By 3:00 PM PST, Buffy had talked him, no, she had ‘convinced’ him to rehire Johnathan, with a slight pay raise. Turned out for the good, though, Johnathan Levy was to this very day, one of the best employees that Spike had. With a sigh, Spike answered the cell phone, “Giles,” he barked gruffly. “Hey, Spike,” it was Xander Harris’s voice on the other end. “Harris, what the bloody hell do you want this early?” He heard Xander laugh, “Oh blow it out, Spike,” the big man chortled, “I know you’ve been up forever and Buffy is probably still in dream land.” Spike laughed himself, “true enough, mate. But you still need to tell me what the hell gets ‘you’ up at this hour?”

Buffy woke up, alone in bed, and glanced around the room at the alarm clock on her red cherrywood end table. “Wow. It’s already 8:40 AM? No wonder I’m alone in bed, Will’s been up for hours. Probably toppled the Euro financial structure by now,” she giggled softly. She jumped up out of bed and rushed in to take a quick shower; she had to talk to Will about that job thingy this morning. They never ‘found’ the time to last night and she just had to get this out on the table with him.

She dressed quickly, a pair of old comfy jeans, a soft pink sweater her house slippers. Before she went to find Will, she dabbed just a touch of shadow on her lids and some light gloss to her lips. Not surprisingly, Buffy found Will standing out on the balcony, smoking a cigarette, staring out at the ocean. With an ‘eww’ scrunch of her nose (she detested cigarette smoke), she stepped out onto the patio space to join him. “Hi, honey,” she murmered against his cheek as she kissed him good morning. “Honey?” she repeated when he didn’t answer her, or even look at her. He just kept staring out at the ocean, almost in a daze it seemed. “William?” she asked in a panicked tone, what is it? What’s wrong?” William finally looked at her, his indigo blue eyes bore right into her green ones. They scared her, she didn’t like this one bit. This was a ‘Spike’ expression, one that terrified her. “Why don’t ‘you’ tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he almost growled, through clenched teeth.

Buffy was sitting on the chair next to Will’s, still out on the balcony. Since he’d asked her ‘what was wrong’ they hadn’t said anything to each other. Will had smoked another full cigarette since then, but hadn’t spoken again. He just sat and stared at her, intently; Buffy felt like he was trying to read her thoughts. Finally he said quietly, “Xander called me this morning, Buffy,” then he took another drag from his cigarette. “Oh,” she mumbled, “I see. So ‘he’ told you about the job thing?” The man next to her sighed, “guess he thought you’d already said something, Buff. That or he didn’t want me blindsided. He is my friend too, babe,” he explained when she shot him that betrayed look. His beautiful blue eyes looked so sad to her, like a dissapointed young child. Will’s hair was all uncombed and spikey. Actually, tight little curls had began to form after it had dried from his shower. Buffy loved his hair like this, much more so then when he forced it back into submission with a comb and gel. The whole sight of him, like this, so vulnerable and hurt, so trying not to let her see how much so; well it tore at her heart like a knife.

“I wanted to talk to you about it last night, Will,” she explained softly as she scooched her chair closer to his. “Honestly, I did,” she continued and placed her right hand over his left one. “I just never got the opportunity to bring it up, you know? I mean, we got kinda’ busy, remember?” He turned his hand up to hold hers, tightly, “yeah, that we did, Princess,” he agreed with a warm smile, apparently remembering just ‘how busy’ they had gotten. ‘There’s my Will’ she thought, relieved to see his lovely smile again. Encouraged, Buffy began to talk about the job opening at ‘The Chateau’ her old position. “Amy quit last week,” she explained to him, “Tucker, her husband got accepted at Harvard to do his post grad work. Of course Amy and the kids are going with him. I trained Amy for that job before I left the restaurant, remember, Will?” He just nodded so she went on.

“Anyway,” she continued with enthusiasm, “Amy called me to tell me about everything and I figured that going back to work might be good for me. For both of us Will.” He stood up and walked back over to the balcony, lit another cigarette, “don’t I give you everything you want, Buffy?” he asked so quietly, that Buffy had to join him at the rail just to get close enough to hear him. “Don’t I give you everything you want, Buffy?” he repeated, much louder now. “Yes, of course you do, but,” she searched her brain to come up with just the right words to say. The best way to explain how she felt to this man she loved so dearly. “I want to do something, honey. Do something constructive with my time and energy and I was good at that job. I know it’s not brain surgery, it’s not even what I went to school for, but I’m good at it and it could keep me busy. While you’re not here, Will. You know I do miss you, too and I don’t have any kind of career to occupy my mind, not like you do.” Her statement had started out pretty strong, but sadly, ended up as almost a whimper.

Spike considered this for a moment and his hesitation encouraged Buffy to add, “just think of this. You could even come here more, the nights you work at home. I’ll be gone at work, most of the evening; you could come here and do whatever work you do at your place on those nights. I’d be gone at work, wouldn’t get in your way here.” He could tell she thought this was a pretty good selling point to him, and normally it probably would have been, but he had the feeling she was holding something back, something real important. “You are not in my way, Buffy,” he said to her evenly, “you are a distraction for me when I’m working. A very pleasant one, but never think you are in my way.” When he looked into her emerald green eyes, he caught a look of doubt, just briefly there. “Besides, Will,” she began cautiously, “I guess I kind of would like to make my own way again. Is that so bad?”

‘That was it!’ he screamed, silently, ‘that’s what she’s holding back. She doesn’t want to have to depend on me anymore. I’m losing her!’ Spike began to panic, it started as a big knot in his gut, traveled up to his throat, causing it to tighten up and almost choke him. His mind raced, he went into his panic defense mode, which was not necessarily a good thing where the Giles men were concerned. Like his own father, and his grandfather before him, Spike covered his panic with anger that could easily evolve into a full blown rage.

“NO!” he roared at her like a lion. Buffy flinched and shrunk back from him, momentarily stunned. She seemed to recover quickly enough and crossed her slim arms over her ample breasts. A stubborn expression marred her beautiful face and she got that damn lower lip pout going that usually did Spike in within seconds. “No to what?” she asked with a jutt of her little chin, “to my working; your staying here to work at home? Me making my own pathetic little way? All three?” Spike could see the red flush of anger rush into her pixi face and he rued the way that he’d yelled ‘no’ at her like he did. But, the fact was, no way in bloody hell was he going to lose Buffy and he knew in his heart and soul, he would lose her. If she went back to work that is, he would lose her completely. Swallowing very hard, Spike looked away from her, couldn’t look at her, she’d break him down if he did. “No to the working bullshit and you making your own way, Buffy,” he said firmly.

“Hmph!” she snorted at him and stomped her little foot before she turned and slammed back into the apartment. “Oh that’ll show him, Buffy! Throw a tantrum like a brat kid and storm off,” she chided herself. “Grow up, girl! Calm down and convince him how this would be good for you both. Later,” she kept on the conversation in her head, “you can talk more about it later.” Poor Mr. Gordo, who had been asleep on the sofa, took one look at pissed Buffy, assessed the situation and made a mad dash for the extra bedroom. Buffy stopped in her tracks, turned around and faced Will who had followed her into the living room, “I want to discuss this later, Will,” she said calmly, “when we are both calmer and thinking clearer.” He just shook his head, “I’m calm now, Buffy,” he responded, “but I’m not going to change my mind about this.” She turned around, walked into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. “Asshole!” she hissed as she dug around her dresser drawer for the keys to her Corvette, “bloody stupid, narrow minded, cave man mentality asshole!” When she turned around with her keys and wallet to leave the room, she found William standing right in front of her. “I didn’t even hear him come in!” she thought, stunned. “I like you too,” he smirked at her, apperently having heard the whole ‘asshole’ thing. “Well I don’t like you right now!” she shot back as she stormed past him.

“Well, I don’t like you right now!” she spat at him as she passed him by like a hurricane. “Buffy, God dammit,” he shouted as he grabbed her arm to stop her, “just listen to me, okay?” She shook her head ‘no’ stubbornly, “let me go Will,” she ordered, “I really don’t like you right now, I’m serious. I need to get out for a while, away from you and your damned ‘cave man’ attitude!” He ‘wanted’ to shake her, but he would never, ever really ‘do’ such an awful thing. Spike would never physically rough house with Buffy, unless they were playing during sex or something, never in anger. “Buffy, don’t leave,” he begged, “just stay for a minute, listen to me and then if you have to go for a while; I’ll let you.” She looked at him, wide-eyed, “you’ll let me!” she gasped in disbelief. “You’ll let me?” she muttered again. “Oh this just keeps getting better.”

“Buffy, please just sit down, here,” he led her over the their bed. The one they enjoyed so much together only hours earlier. She sat down in a huff and crossed her legs, then her arms. “Speak,” she commanded him like she would a dog. “I just,” he began as he dug around for a cigarette, which he didn’t light; just held it and paced around the room. Finally he stopped in front of her and hunkered down before her, his arms on his knees. “Buffy I don’t ‘want’ you to work, outside of the house that is.” ‘Why not?’ she asked him with her eyes, not her voice. “Because I want you to work ‘in’ the house,” he explained, best as he could. “I want to marry you Buffy,” he continued, “you know that. I want to have children with you and make a family together. If you would only marry me and knock out a couple of kids right away, you’d be so damned busy that you wouldn’t want to work. Now would you?”

Buffy felt quesy, but she fought down the feeling and answered Will’s question with one of her own. “Am I to understand,” she choked out, “that you think that if I marry you, get knocked up right away and give the Gile’s clan an heir or two for the family business……that, that I’ll be too busy to feel any discontent in my life? That I’ll be happy as a clam in chowder? Is that what you really think, Will?” She ended on a raspy note, probably because her teeth were clenched so tight that she could barely speak coherently. ‘Yes’ he nodded. “I see,” she sighed in frustration. “Now, I’m not only your paid whore,” she shook her own head sadly, “I’m a brood mare, too, right?” He grabbed her and pulled her against him so tightly she could barely breathe, “God no, baby,” he whimpered in her ear, “you’re neither. You’re my love, Buffy. My Queen, my Goddess.”

She felt his face against hers, now, his cheeks wet with his own tears. “I love you, Princess,” he moaned, “I love you, love you so much. Just don’t leave me. Don’t ever go away from me, please.” His desperate pleading proved to be Buffy’s undoing, “I won’t leave you, Will,” she made him a whispered promise. “I won’t leave you or go away from you. Because I love you, my darling,” she eased back down on the bed, still embraced in his arms. When they both lay back on the silky covers, she pulled his blond head into her chest and began to stroke his curly hair tenderly. “Will,” she whispered softly, “I, I’m just not ready to marry you, yet. Please try to understand, but I do love you.” He murmered something she didn’t quite understand against her right breast and snuggled as close as he could to her. She hoped that he had ‘bought’ the lame excuse she’d given for not marrying him right now. Because he wouldn’t be able to handle the real reason she’d never marry him; that she was sure of.

They made love again; good old fashioned make-up sex as Buffy liked to call it. Sometimes it could be the best kind of love making. Later after more showers, they ate lunch on the balcony together. Buffy decided to go to ‘The Chateau’ and tell Xander, personally, that she was not going to take the position, though she hardly needed to bother. Spike had made damn sure that Harris was well informed about that before he and Buffy had even argued about it. Xander hadn’t seemed real surprised either by ‘Spike’s’ decision when they talked on the phone that morning. The macho part of Spike was somewhat embarrassed that he’d actually cried to Buffy earlier, in bed, but he couldn’t help himself. He loved her to the point of obsession and missed her when they weren’t together. However, it was condusive to Spike’s plans at the moment to have Buffy completely out of the apartment. Spike did not buy Buffy’s excuse for not marrying him right now, not all of it anyway. He just knew she was covering something up and today, he had a lot of phone calls to make and arrangements to discuss with certain people, starting with Buffy’s own OB/GYN, Dr. Alexis Denisof.

“Baby,” he called to her, just as she started to go out the door, “I’ve been thinking about what you said; about keeping busy?” Spike felt a wave of remorse when he saw the dissapointment in Buffy’s eyes and realized he’d hurt her badly. “God I’m such a prick of a control freak!” he thought, momentarily disgusted with himself. She sat down next to him on the sofa and he clasped her warm hand. “Doesn’t Willow’s girlfriend, Tara McClay teach an advanced Art’s Course at Sunnydale University?” Buffy visibly brightened, her lips twitched into a small smile, “yes, she does.” He nodded, “well, why don’t you give Willow and Tara a ring, see if you can get into the class, two nights a week or something? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She seemed to comtemplate this for a moment and broke out into a huge grin, “I’d like that, Will,” she gushed, hugging him enthusiastically. “Okay then,” he chuckled, quite pleased with himself, “you run along and see Xander, when you get back, you can ring up Tara and set something up, right?”

As soon as Buffy had left the apartment to go see Xander, Spike called information on his cell phone and had them ring Dr. Denisof’s office for him. A well-known man like Spike Giles had no problem getting through to the doctor to speak with him personally. “Yes, Mr. Giles?” Dr. Denisof’s businesslike voice came on the line. “I was wondering Dr.” began Spike carefully, “well, that’s not really true, Buffy and I were wondering if you could ‘reassure’ us about something?” The Dr. was more then willing to talk to William Giles, it seemed, probably because Spike and gone with Buffy to every appointment she’d had with the man. Dr. Denisof seemed impressed with Spike; he appreciated a man who took his partner’s birth control methods and female health seriously, as much as William Gile’s did Buffy’s. This proved to work to Spike’s advantage.

Spike explained to Dr. Denisof how Buffy had absent mindedly missed two or maybe three days of her birth control pills. “She’s really embarrassed, Dr. You know Buffy, she’s too proud to admit she screwed up and didn’t even want to call you herself. But,” he continued in his most convincing tone, “she is really worried that she might get preggers accidently. I told her, of course, that two or three days missed was probably no big deal, but she’s really upset and worried. So, I called you to get the information we needed, just to reassure her?” The Doctor reassured Spike that it was probably okay that Buffy had forgotten a couple of pills, but to make sure she got her pill schedule straightened out immediately.

“You know, William,” he was calling him William by now, “I’ve got Buffy on the lowest strength perscription for birth control in the States. She’s such a little thing and there is a history of certain female cancers in her family. There has been documentation of some women getting pregnant even on this particular birth control pill, but very, very rarely of course,” he added quickly. Spike’s ears perked up at that.

“So,” Spike sighed in false relief, “it’s pretty safe to say that there’s no chance of Buffy being pregnant from forgetting her pills for a few days, this time anyway, right?” There was a silence on the other end and Spike smirked, pleased with himself for seemingly pulling this one off. “Well, William, it’s probably safe to say she isn’t pregnant now, but,” the doctor hesitated, “but I think I’d use some other percautions for at least a week or so. Perhaps some over the counter profilatics? Again, more than likely Buffy

is ‘safe’ but if you two are not ready for children, then I think you might want to be ‘sure,’ better safe then sorry, you know?”

Spike broke out in a full fledged grin, glad for modern science and the telephones, even small, up-to-date ones like this cell, that afforded the privacy they did. “I guess then that these pills are pretty built up in Buffy’s system, right? Her blood’s probably pickled in them and she could probably miss two weeks worth or more without getting pregs, eh, doctor?” he actually chuckled into the phone. Spike swore he heard the good Doctor gasp on the other end. “Oh, good grief no, no, William. That’s not what I mean at all. Like I said, Buffy’s perscription is the weakest there is, if she were to miss even more then five days, her chances of getting pregnant would go up at least 80 percent, no question. We must remember, with birth control pills as with any perscription, patients must follow the instructions and dosages as closely as possible.” A smug, easy smile spread slowly on Spike’s lips, “well, thank you Dr. Denisof. I’ll be sure and tell Buffy just what you said. She’ll feel so much better, thanks again.”

After Spike clicked off his cell phone, he went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Right on the top shelf, plain as day, set Buffy’s birth control pills. With just the tiniest tinge of guilt, Spike took the pills out of the medicine cabinet and examined them thoroughly. “No problem,” he told himself, “Doc should be able to duplicate this whole package and replace them with placebos.” He caught his reflection in the cabinet mirror, “I have to do this,” he assured his image, defensively, “Buffy needs a bit of a push into reality. Okay, okay, so I’m a selfish prick who can’t bear to lose her!” he finally admitted to himself.

He was dialing ‘Doc’s’ office number before he got back out onto the balcony. ‘Doc’ as Spike called him was actually Dr. Thomas Snyder, a genious of a medical expert who was just a tad on the disreputable side. Spike had ‘helped’ him with a major medical malpractice suit that was brought against his practice about a year before; Spike’s ‘people’ had simply made it go away. Now the Doctor owed him a big favor and Spike was about to call it in. “Doc?” Spike greeted him, jovially, “hey mate, I need a favor from you.”

A/N: Okay, please, please don’t hate me for writing Spike like such a controlling ‘cave man’ (as Buffy called him) in these last few chapters. It’s condusive to my story to have him this way, even if he’s being totally idiotic with this dastardly scheme right now! Remember, most of Spike’s schemes tend to backfire on him. As for Buffy, she’s very much in love with Spike in this story, but she’s not blind to his faults and I assure you, she will come into her own eventually; and please don’t be afraid to review. All constructive criticism is welcome, of course, all loving reviews are welcome too! Thanks, S.





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