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MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 7: ‘English Vacation’




Buffy woke up, very early the next morning, wrapped in the arms of her lover. Apparently, Will had snuck into her bedroom sometime late last night, stripped naked and crawled into the bed with her. All that without waking her up since she was feeling so crummy when she went to bed herself. She felt great this morning, all traces of the dizzyness and fatigue were gone and she felt like she could go days without sleeping again. As she watched Will in his sleep, she was reminded as always, of how young and untroubled he looked in this state. He seemed totally at peace with the world, like the cares and stress of his everyday life or his work just faded completely away. Will was always saying that it was Buffy’s arms, wrapped around him that eased his worries away completely.

“I need a bath,” she told herself as she glanced around the huge guestroom in which she’d been enscounced by Will’s parents. It was still very early, the birds outside the bedroom window were just starting their ‘good morning’ songs to each other. That thought reminded her of Jenny’s Knight’s Lady Rose and the gardens that waited for her just outside these shuttered bedroom windows. She looked back at her sleeping lover and smiled, reluctant to leave this big sumptious bed or this man who she truly did love with all her being. Buffy had to giggle, softly, as not to wake him, he had that spikey blond bed head look going, the one she loved so much. It was probably just the art lover in Buffy, but when Will slept he reminded her of an Immortal from Greek Myth. Thinking about Immortals and all, Buffy realized that Will could be out for the long one this morning. Him and his Father probably drank enough alcohol last night, or more then likely, into this morning, to kill mere mortals. Probably the only person who could drink Will under the table was his own Father, Rupert Giles.

“Morning, Princess,” came the mumbled greeting of her lover, “feeling better today, luv?” he grinned, his eyes still closed shut. She giggled and snuggled even closer to him, “I’m feeling fantastic myself, but how are you?” Will shrugged and wrapped his arms even tighter about her, “bout as good as I can feel considering I think Dad and I drank the entire County dry, and that was just the whiskey.” Buffy began to rub Will’s head, tenderly, causing him to moan in pleasure, “sorry I was out of it last night,” she sighed. “I was just so tired and I’m sorry that I didn’t wake up when you came to bed, so we could, well, you know,” she felt a hot flush creep up her neck into her face.

William’s eyes shot wide open and he grinned, “you know?” he chuckled wickedly. “You mean so we could shag, fuck, have sex or my personnal all time favorite, make love?” Buffy sighed in exhasperation and tried to wiggle out of his arms and away from his naughty left hand that had somehow slipped up between her thighs. “Well excuse the heck out of me!” she ‘whispered’ rather loudly. “Just because I’m not so crude, that I can’t lay around spouting words like fu…” but he silenced her with a kiss. “Buffy, my darling,” he said tenderly, “I love the fact that you still blush and use phrases like ‘you know’ when referrring to our sex life together. You are a jungle cat in bed, baby, “ he assured her with another kiss, “and it’s adorable that you are still so guileless and innocent when you talk about the marvelous things we do in bed.” She shot him a look of warning, but gave him a good morning kiss anyway.

Her kiss caused him to begin to up the action to the next level and soon he had her nightie off and thrown in the corner of the room. “Will!” she squealed as he nibbled her neck and headed for lower territory, “I need a bath, I’m all grungy from yesterday!” Will stopped his assault on her chest with his lips and grinned up at her, “you are far from grungy sweetheart,” he said, a wicked gleam in his gorgeous blue eyes. “But, if you insist, I could give you a tongue bath.” Buffy broke out in a peal of laughter and gave into Will’s naughty, but yummy mouth.


Flashback ‘Buffy’s POV’


Buffy dragged herself up to her apartment, exhausted from the conversation she’d had with William Giles over the past three hours. It was now close to 11:30 PM on Wednesday night and she had early classes tomorrow. Right now, she wanted to wash up, get to bed and not have to think anymore about what she’d learned about her so called boyfriend, Angel earlier that evening. William certainly talked a good spiel; he was so cool, calm and diplomatic while he basically ripped Angel’s character apart. Echoing Xander’s words to her from earlier, this blond handsome tornado from England exposed some harsh truths about Angel that even Buffy hadn’t realized, not to this extent anyway. However, William was careful to sidestep Buffy’s involvement with him, even as he ran Angel himself into the ground.

Just once, during the course of their evening together, over the finest wine The Chateau had to offer and their famous filet mignon, did Buffy remind William that Angel ‘was’ her boyfriend; that it wasn’t really appropriate for either of them to be discussing him over their meal. It was then, that William finally dropped his verbal assault on Angel, but only after he’d exposed the man’s drug dealing to Buffy. Somehow, as awful as the things William did tell Buffy about her own boyfriend, she felt that the blond man was holding some other information back about Angel, something even darker. William had then assured Buffy that he was only concerned about her wellfare, like all of her group of friends (which he now considered himself a part of) and didn’t want to see her dragged down by the likes of Angel O’Connor.

When Buffy entered the front door of her apartment, she was met by Angel himself, who was leaning against the entryway wall, apparently waiting for her. By that annoying brooding look in his eyes, Buffy could tell this was not a happy man and this was going to be a long night. “Hey Angel,” she greeted as she strode past him, trying to give him a hint to leave by turning her back to him and going about her normal bed time routine. “What’s up?” she called back to him, unwilling to get into any crap with him tonight. She just wanted him to leave, now and tried to think up the nicest way to convey this to him. “Maybe I better ask you that question,” he growled from right behind her. Buffy jumped, startled, then turned around to look him in the eyes; he was enraged.

“Where were you tonight,” he asked her, his dark brown eyes flashed yellow in anger. “I was at the Chateau,” she responded matter-of-factly, ‘it’s the truth’ she reasoned. “Bullshit!” he shot back loudly, “I called that dump over two hours to talk to you and that witch Amy told me you’d quit working around 8:00!” Buffy stood up proudly and crossed her arms over her chest, defiantly, “Amy is not a witch! She’s a lovely young woman who is trying her best to help make a better life for her and her family. And,” she continued, “I was at the restaurant. I was eating and talking to ‘some’ people. Besides, you need to leave now as I don’t feel like discussing anything with you right now. I don’t know how much coke you’ve snorted up your nose tonight, but I do know you’re higher then a kite and unable to discuss anything rationally tonight!” She started to walk over to her front door to emphasize the need for him to ‘get out’ right now.

Angel grabbed Buffy’s arm, way far from gently and pulled her up against him roughly. “That ‘someone’ you were eating with and talking to, he the blond British freak that sent you the roses, Buff?” By this time, he was yelling so loud that Buffy was sure the old nosey lady upstairs could hear every word he was screaming. ‘Who told him,’ she asked herself frantically, ‘not Xander, Cordy or Amy, surely!’ “Doesn’t matter, Angel,” she shouted back at him, “you’re leaving and I’m going to bed, alone.” She pulled away from him, but he just grabbed her arm again, “no Buffy, I’m not leaving, we’re going to straighten this mess out!” Buffy again pulled her arm out of his huge, powerful right hand, “who told you about the roses, Angel?” she asked him. He looked away, momentarily shame-faced, then glared back at her, “Faith,” he answered simply.

“How, or more imporantly, why did Faith Evans tell you about William’s roses?” Buffy gasped. “William? As in Billy,” Angel answered her question with one of his own. “That’s pretty funny,” he began to laugh, “from what I understand this William’s a real throwback to the 80’s and all, a real Billy Idol wannabe.” Buffy overlooked the nasty remark about William, “just tell me why Faith would even talk to you, Angel? You her coke dealer now?,” she thought back to what Xander had said earlier, “he’s being less then honest you, Buff,” and suddenly, everything became very clear to her. “Or is it more then that?” she whispered weakly. Angel didn’t even try to dodge Buffy’s obvious innuendos, “well, yeah,” he hissed, “at least Faith knows how to blow a guy without whining ‘ewww yucky’ like some bitches I know, like you do.” She blushed bright red and fought down the urge to throw up right there, “as much as Faith Evans sleeps around,” she shot back, “I’m sure she’s had more then enough practice to perfect her non-gag reflex while she’s down on her knees.” Angel scowled down at her, “how much did you put out to Billy boy to swing that nice little flower delivery, Buff? Was it just enough, the usual just passable sex that you’re so good at? Or was it something really special, proabably not, the blond Brit prick may not expect anything too great!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she yelled, forgetting about old Miss nosey upstairs, or past caring completely. “Well,” Angel chuckled maliciously, “you’ve got a lot to learn about men, baby. Like I said, your techniques could use some improvement, but that’s fixable.” He closed the gap between them and pinned her to wall with his hands, “you just get naked, we’ll go to bed and you can practice your blow jobs on me. When you perfect them, I’ll dump Faith and you can tell Blondie to fuck off. We’ll work it out, stay together and forget all of this crap.” Buffy just stared at him for a minute, too sick with shock and anger to say anything for a while. Finally she pushed him away from her and walked past him towards the door again, calling back evenly, “get out. Don’t come back, forget where I live, my phone number, everything. Just get out, I never want to see you again.”

“This isn’t over Buffy,” he growled, “I still love you and you love me!” She shook her head sadly and mumbled, “not anymore, Angel, if I ever really did.” Angel came after her like a lion and roared, “Fuck that, you do still love me!” Buffy turned to face him, “not anymore,” she repeated calmly. “Oh, by the way, Angel,” her tone turned suddenly sweet, “a little FYI. If you did more strokes for me, instead of lines of coke, I might have been more accomadating in the bedroom. That and the other thingy,” she purred, so very close to him now. “What other thingy?” he asked seemingly mesmerized by her seductive tone. “Well,” she whispered silkily in his ear, “if you had more impressive equipment, something for me to really work with, maybe I could have ‘put out’ better then I did.” With that, she reached down and tweaked his jean clad dick gently, the evil tone of her own sarcastic chuckle surprised even her.

Buffy should have seen it coming, but she was so caught up in the ridiculous drama of the whole thing that she let her guard down. Angel swung his right arm back behind him and brought it down, open handed, against Buffy’s cheek, knocking her back into the coffee table. She lay on the floor, dazed by the force of the blow and the immediate pain in her her lower back. Somehow, she stood up, more like wobbled up and stumbled over to the phone on her end table. Angel just stood, towering above her, glaring down at her and panting like an animal. “Get out!” she hissed at him, “get out now, before I call the Sunnydale Police department and have your coke dealing ass thrown in jail!” He pushed past her and half ran to the front door, “this isn’t over, I mean it, Buffy,” he growled at her. “We’re going to work this out, you’re still my girl and I’ll rot in jail before I see you with that blond British freak or any other man!” When she heard the door slam behind him, she reached for the phone.

Cordy would be at Xander’s place by this time, it was already past midnight, but Buffy needed to talk to her friend, desperately. She punched her boss’s phone number in and prayed silently that both Xander and Cordy would understand her calling them at this unGodly hour. Xander answered the phone, kind of groggily and Buffy couldn’t stop herself, she broke out in uncontrollable sobs, “I’m so sorry, Xand,” she cried, “I know it’s late. Please forgive me, but is Cordy there? I need to talk to her, please!” Xander practically screeched, “Jesus, Buffy, what’s wrong? Cordy!” he screamed frantically. “Who is it, Xander, what’s wrong,” Buffy heard her friend’s concerned voice. “It’s Buffy,” Xander answered, just as concerned, “she’s sobbing, she needs us.”


Present Day


Buffy wondered leisurely through Jenny’s beloved gardens, Jenny herself walked beside her, their arms entwined. At every bloom, Buffy paused and breathed in the intoxicating fragrances, enjoying each and every one of the prized flowers. “Here’s the new one,” Jenny gushed as she led Buffy to a row of gorgeous pale pink roses, each bloom was as perfect as the next one. “This is the Knight’s Lady. See how pale and lovely the pink hue of the petals are?” Buffy nodded eagerly and bent to smell the lovely aroma of the flower, noticing that the inner part of the bloom was a dark fuscia color, quite a contrast to the pale outter petals. “It’s beautiful Jennifer,” Buffy sighed as she touched the petals lightly, “it’s sure to take first price, I just know it.” Jenny smiled proudly then led Buffy to a little wooden bench nearby, “let’s chat a bit Buffy. There’s some ‘things’ I’d like to share with you, privately, away from Rupert and William.”

“ It’s some things I think you might be interested in knowing about, some more Giles lore. More recent events, then the ones that took place in William Sr. and Margaret Gile’s times.” Buffy looked at Jenny shyly, not sure what she might have to say and a little nervous about it. “It’s nothing bad, or too scary, Buffy,” honest Jennifer chuckled softly, “just a little more insight into my husband’s character and maybe even more insight for you, into William’s. Although I think you’ve figured my son out pretty well all by yourself and that’s why you love him so much.”


“I know you are aware that your William wrote poetry when he was young, aren’t you?” Buffy nodded in answer, very aware of the fact, that, and that Will had stopped writing poetry sometime before his eighteenth birthday. “Yes, it was a shame he ever stopped writing, Buffy, dear,” Jenny sighed sadly, seeming to read Buffy’s thoughts. “I know I’m his Mother and all, but I thought it was very good poetry. But, of course, it would never do for the only son of Rupert Giles to write poetry, right?” Again Buffy nodded, suddenly irritated that Will felt so intimidated by his own Father that he’d quit doing something he loved, just to please the old tyrant. “I have something for you, in the house for later. It’s not the poetry William wrote before he supposedly stopped writing altogether. It’s the poetry he’s written about you Buffy, and sent to me over the past three years. I think you’ll love it, I do.” Buffy was stunned, she had no idea that Will was writing poetry about her, but more then that, she was elated and couldn’t wait to read it. “You know, Buffy,” she murmered softly, “it’s a funny thing that his Father would discourage William from writing poetry when he was a young man. Rupert certainly wrote enough of his own passionate prose to me when we were courting.”


A/N: pj if you’re reading this, there’s the first hint of our beloved Gile’s from BTVS. Giles on the show just had to write poetry! Anyway, sorry for the ‘put out’ crap in the plot. I actually had that said to me years ago and although it’s revolting, I just had to throw a phrase like that in this. It’s so Angel, don’t you think? Anyway, please review if you like. Constructive criticism is always welcome! Thanks for reading, Luv Spuf





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