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MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 8: ‘Slayer of the Big Bad’


A/N: I wanted to point out that thanks to ‘Jean’ and her E-Mail, I’m now starting to post fics in a larger font. It’s easier for me too, Jean!
Thanks, Luv Spuf


“I’ve always loved these gardens, Buffy,” Jenny was saying. “I think they’re my favorite place on our whole estate, except for Rupert’s and my big old Tudor style bed up in our master room. It’s even more fun for me to romp around ‘in there’ then it is out here.” Buffy choked back a laugh, but turned bright red again, stunned that Jennifer Gile’s would say anything like that much less to her! Jenny just laughed heartily, “what Buffy, you think I stick around Gile’s Manor all the time for the amusing business conversation at supper?” ‘No,’ Buffy shook her head and looked at the yellow roses next to the bench, still quite red faced. “Oh, Buffy, you ‘are’ the right woman for my son, a true treasure, just like he wrote in one of his poems. I just hope that you can learn to help guide William to become the great man he has the potential to be. The one you and I know he can evolve into. Like the one his Father could have become one day, if I’d have been stronger, like you are.”

Buffy began to swing her leather boot covered feet nervously under the little wooden bench, trying to think of something to say to Jenny, but failing miserably. Jenny on the other hand had more then enough to say for both of them. “My Father was a Lord, Buffy. Did you know that?” The blond woman nodded slightly, again wondering where this was going. “Daddy was Lord Calendar, a proud, loving man who doted on me like I was a real Princess and loved nothing better then to stomp about his estate wearing his hunting boots and riding his favorite horse, Gypsy. Daddy was what people called ‘genteel poor’ and just eking by financially on his name and heritage, of which he was extremely proud. My Mother adored him and visa versa and they both treated me like a glass China Doll, which was natural, I guess; I was their only child after all.” Jenny took Buffy’s hand in hers and squeezed it warmly, “my Father’s name was Randalph Calendar, which you already know of course, William’s middle name is taken from his. He loved dinner parties, balls and overblown galas that my Mother planned and executed with the finnesse of Martha Stewart. It was at one of those parties that I met William’s Father, Rupert Giles. Ethan Rayne and his late wife, Mariel had dragged poor Rupert along, presumably to introduce him to the blue blooded locals in my home County. However, I found out later that it was all orchestrated by Rupert himself, for the sole purpose of getting an introduction to me.”

Buffy allowed Jenny to just continue, uninterrupted, relaying all of this personnal information to her. She could see Jenny really was trying to make a point to her and was more then curious to find out exactly what it was. “Anyway, apparently, Rupert had seen me at some function in London and had decided on the spot that ‘I’ was the only one for him. Hard to believe now how romantic William’s Father was back then, isn’t it?” Again, Buffy just nodded and kept her eyes on The Knight’s Lady Rose across the little stone path in front of them. “Okay,” Jenny continued softly, “so introductions were made at the party, Rupert and I danced the first dance together and I have to tell you Buffy, I fell hard that first night. Of course, Daddy hated Rupert at first sight; after all, he was not titled, he was not ‘old money’ and hadn’t his own Father, William Giles basically stolen the Smythe farm right out from under Liam Smythe years before? I didn’t care what my Father and Mother’s concerns were, I was crazy in love with Rupert Giles and he was crazy in love with me; the hell with everyone else! I mean I was only nineteen-years-old at the time and still very naïve, even for that time.”

“From day one, Rupert and I were inseperable, even though my parents were furious with the situation. Buffy, William’s Dad was so much fun then, I mean silly, wild fun, the kind of man that is so appealing to a sheltered, serious young woman like I was. In fact, he was even considered a bit of a rebel back then,” she giggled and winked at Buffy, who couldn’t help but smile back at her. “However, as time went on, I noticed Rupert becoming more and more like his own Father, the elder William Giles; power hungry, money hungry and almost ruthless in his methods to get what he wanted. That’s the main reason I kept putting Rupert off when he kept asking me to marry him, I was afraid of just who my lover was turning into and felt powerless to stop him. Fate intervened, however, and well, I became pregnant with Drusilla sometime after my twenty-first birthday.” Buffy couldn’t help but shrug at this admission, not from indifference, but because it simply was no big deal, now anyway for a woman to have a child out of wedlock and she didn’t yet understand the importance of what Jenny would tell her next.

“I know that in your time, in your world, Buffy,” Jenny sighed wistfully, “an unmarried, pregnant young woman would not even raise an eyebrow. But this was almost thirty-three years ago and in my world, this world,” Jenny waved her slim arm around the gardens, “well, the daughter of Lord Calendar, pregnant and unmarried, even to an upstart like the heir of William Giles? Buffy, it was devestating and I’m not strong like you are. If I was, I would have simply had my child and ignored the evil gossip and snide remarks that would have just killed my parents. Instead, I married Rupert and I’m not sorry, Buffy, I’m not. I love my children, my husband and this place, I just wish I could have helped mold Rupert more into the kind of man he could have become, much like I want my son to be.”

Buffy felt her eyes tear up, involentarily, and she clutched Jenny’s hand in hers, tightly. “What are you saying, Jenny?” she whispered, shakily, finally using the name that Will’s Mother had begged her to call her for years. “I’m saying, Buffy, darling,” Jenny patted her tiny hand with her other one, “that I agree with my son, you are the one for him. In fact, I think you’re the ‘only’ one that can save him from himself. Please, Buffy,” she whispered, “help William become the man that you and I both know he can become. A truly great man, one that doesn’t live for power and money, but finds his true happiness in living for the ones he loves the most. And, Buffy, my son not only loves you, he worships you with all of his heart and soul. You have the power to guide him, and I know you are strong enough to do whatever it takes to show him the way.” Buffy wrapped her arms around Jenny and hugged her tightly, “I’ll try Jenny, honest I will. I love him, so much.”

Jenny stood up, and pulled Buffy with her, “now, I’m going to let you in on another little secret,” she giggled through her fresh tears, “I didn’t just name my Knight’s Lady Rose for Margaret Giles, although I let Rupert and William think that.” Buffy smiled through her own tears, “who else did you name it for?” she asked innocently. “You, Buffy,” Jenny chuckled, quite pleased with herself when she saw the stunned look on the younger woman’s face. “To me, Buffy, you are the rose. The pale pink petals on top hide the inner flower, it’s deep pink hue is the strength of the bloom. You are like the rose Buffy, or rather, it’s like you; deceptively fragile outside, but strong as iron on the inside. I’ve always admired that in you and now I need you to utilize that strength and help my son, please.”


Flashback “Spike’s POV’


Alexander Harris, or Xander as his close friends called him, showed up in Spike’s office early on Thursday morning. “Mr. Giles,” the rather dowdy, but efficient secretary, Doris Kroger, had announced, “Alexander Harris is here to see you.” Spike told his employee to show Mr. Harris in immediately. Xander literally flew into Spike’s office like an Army messenger, unable to wait to make his report as soon as possible. “Spike, man,” Xander greeted him, hurridly, “we need to talk, now!” Spike stood up and went around the front of his desk, then sat down on it, motioning Xander to sit down in the leather chair in front of him. “It’s about Buffy,” Xander blurted out urgently, “she’s in trouble and Cordy and I are just sick with worry!” The blond British man raised his eyebrow, it had always been a pretty smooth manuveur on his part, for some reason, it scared a lot of business rivals and he’d learned to use it to bring them to their knees. “What’s wrong with Buffy,” he asked, more calmly then he really felt. “Last night, that prick Angel waited for her at her place. Cornered her really and started asking lots of questions about her, and you,” Xander responded through gritted teeth.

“It must have been past midnight when she called my place,” Xander explained, “she was sobbing her heart out, asking for Cordy to talk to her. I insisted that me and Cordy go over there and try to find out just what the hell was going on!” Spike clenched his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check, something that was more hard for him then anyone could imagine. “We hurried over there and found the poor little thing all huddled up on her couch. Cordy noticed the fresh bruise on her cheek…..” Spike literally sprung up from the desk, like a lion and roared, “did that fuck hit Buffy?” Xander shrunk back momentarily, then stood up to his full 6’1” heigth. “Yes,” he answered truthfully, “he slapped her and called her filthy names, bitch and all. He also tried to turn her self esteem into shit! Told her that he wouldn’t have gone to other women if she’d been more, well, responsive and everything. I’ve always hated that prick, Spike, I mean it and he’s been screwing the biggest skank in Sunnydale, Faith Evans. I just don’t get it, Buffy’s such a special woman, you’d think even a moron like Angel O’Connor would realize how wonderful she is.”

Spike felt the rage begin to build up inside of him. “I’ll fuckin’ tear his head off and shove it up his arse!” he promised himself and Xander, loudly. “Where is he, Xander, right this minute,” Spike growled, not able to see any color but bright red at the moment. “Classes at college, I guess,” Xander responded with hesitation, “but, Spike,” he continued cautiously, “I think, if I were you, which I’m not, but, I think I’d sit and kind of think things out for a while.” The blond man looked at the taller dark one, a puzzled expression on his face. “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Xander tried to explain, “I’d like nothing more then to see Angel beaten to within an inch of his life, but I’m more concerned about Buffy and her feelings in this.” Again, Spike shot Xander a confused look. “Buffy’s a sweet girl, Spike,” Xander explained, “it’s not that she’s in love with Angel, not now anyway, but she’d never want anyone to physically hurt him, not because of her. I’m really bad at explaining things but, I guess what I’m saying is that Buffy wouldn’t want anyone to hurt another human being, not even for her sake.”

Spike was beginning to understand, even if he couldn’t agree with what Xander was saying. “Okay, Xander,” he said, trying to keep his voice in control, “I get it. Buffy doesn’t want this prick Angel to be beaten to a bloody pulp, by me or anyone else, right?” Xander nodded vigorously, “right,” he confirmed. “Thanks, mate,” Spike muttered to Xander before he sent him out of his office, “I’ll remember this.” When Xander had vacated the premises, Spike picked up his cell phone and dialed Charles Gunn, his best employee and good friend. “Speak,” came the deceptively kind voice of Charles Gunn. “It’s Spike,” William responded, “I need another favour.” As if Charles had any choice in the matter, which he didn’t, he quickly asked his employer what he wanted him to do. “I want you to give all the information you have on Angel O’Connor to Robin Wood, your mate on the at the Police Department,” he ordered. “Not the crap about his fuck buddy, Faith Evans sleeping with Angel, I’m the only that gets to kick the shit out of the bloody prick, not a jealous cop with a gun. But everything about the drug dealing. I want this O’Connor guy out of Buffy’s life, forever and I want him to suffer like she did. In fact, I want Angel O’Connor to learn what the term bitch really means, especially in prison.”

Jenny and Buffy strode to the house together, still arm in arm, only to be met by Will, Rupert, Drusilla and Geniveve along with her baby Rose. “Oh look, Geni!” Drusilla cried to her step daughter, “it’s my Knightly brother’s golden Princess and my Mummy!” The dark haired beauty ran to embrace Jenny and Buffy warmly. Buffy looked over at Will, sympathetically as she hugged his strange older sister tightly. Poor Drusilla was as dottie, as the English call it, as ever and Buffy was just heartsick about it. “You look well, Drusilla,” Buffy offered with a warm smile. “I’m very well, thank you,” Dru responded, hugging her brother’s consort lovingly. “Just look at my grandbaby, Lady Buffy,” she giggled like a child, “isn’t she gorgeous!” Buffy had to agree, the little English Rose was indeed gorgeous. “When are you and my brother, ‘the Crown Prince’ going to bless the kingdom with your own heirs, Lady Buffy?” Dru giggled mischieviously. “Someday, maybe,” Buffy whispered to her lover’s beloved older sister, giving Geniveve a sad look.

Buffy relieved Geniveve of her precious baby daughter and carried the child back into the rose gardens, singing to the little beauty as she went. . “She’s a rare one,” Geni remarked to the four remaining Gile’s clan. “Yes, she is,” Spike agreed in a tone full of awe as he watched his love dance around his Mother’s gardens with the beautiful baby. “A natural born Mother,” Rupert piped up proudly. “A real lady,” Jenny added lovingly. “An epic Princess,” Drusilla stated firmly.

Later they all went back to the Manor, where Giles brought out his best sherry and poured generous amounts to everyone. Even poor Drusilla, who was, at the time, trying to convince Buffy that not only was her brother, William, the ‘White Knight’ but that Buffy was the ‘lady in distress’ captured by the evil dragon and held in the dark tower. Buffy sat through all of Drusilla’s ramblings, patiently listening to her fairy tales and even responding from time to time.


Flashback ‘Buffy’s POV’


Buffy went through the motions for the next twenty-four hours, the stupid innane motions that she needed to go through to survive. She went to work at The Chateau Thursday night, not because she wanted to, but because she had to, taking care to cover the nasty mark that Angel’s huge hand had made with a lot of face powder. Xander had been the utmost in sympathetic, he must have told the rest of staff to ‘tred carefully around Buffy’ because even the young busboys were on their best behavior with her. Around 9:30 PM that night, Buffy was checking over the accounts in the back of the restaurant, something she did periodically for Xander, when William Giles came sauntering through the door. “Close the books, Princess,” William commanded her. “Go away,” she sighed, without even looking up at him, “I don’t want to talk to you right now.” William strode right up to her, pulled the pen from her hand and threw it on the desk she sat at, “don’t care,” he stated, “you are going to talk to me right now. Get your things,” he ordered, “you’re going with me.”

Buffy scrunched up her face and then gave William her patent, ‘go to hell’ look, “no,” she said quietly, “I’m not going anywhere with you.” With a ‘hmph,’ she went back to studying The Chateau’s accounts, trying to ignore the blond man in all black who glowered above her. Before Buffy could cry out her dissaproval, William picked her up and threw her over his shoulders, ignoring the shocked looks of some of her co-workers. “Bloody little stubborn brat!” he hissed as he carried her out of the back office to the nearest exit, “someone needs to give you a good spanking, little one,” he chuckled. As she passed Xander Harris, she thought she heard him tell the stunned onlookers something about a play rehearsal. Spike carried her to his waiting black Porshe and before she could catch her breath, Buffy found herself tossed into the passenger seat. He started the engine and sped out of the parking lot. “You better be taking me home,” she hissed at her abductor angrily, “or I’ll get in touch with the Sunnydale Police Force and…” William laughed out loud, “the Sunnydale Police Force couldn’t find their dicks in broad daylight, Princess!” He lit a cigarette and continued to drive, but only after rolling down both of the windows in his car, somewhere up the 101 Highway, in complete darkness.

“You realize, of course, Buffy muttered through clenched teeth, “that this is kidnapping?” Spike laughed again, “yes, Princess, I’m more then aware that this is kidnapping. I don’t really give a rat’s arse, but if you do, then feel free to scream out your window for help.” Buffy contemplated just that, screaming out the window for help, but realized it was futile. First off, who would hear her over the waves of the Pacific that crashed on the left side of Highway 101; secondly, just how much did she, Buffy Anne Summers, want to have anyone hear or even rescue her. “You’re truly screwed up, Buffy,” she told herself. Finally, she opted for a simple question, “where are we going?” she asked softly. “To Pismo Beach,” William responded matter-of-factly, “Xander told me that there’s this great hotel, sits right on the beach and we’re going to spend a couple of days there.” Buffy looked at this man as if he’d lost his mind completely….”I can’t spend a couple of days anywhere,” she gasped, “I’ve got work at The Bronze tomorrow night, and……” Spike winked at her out of the corner of his eye, “oh, don’t worry about your second job at The Bronze Princess,” he assured her, “I’ve called in and told them you won’t be back.”

“You pompous overbearing ass!” she gasped even as he sped down the 101 a little on the fast side. “Well,” he chuckled happily, “I’ve been called worse, Buffy, especially by my business rivals, but I have to admit, they were a lot less cute then you.” Buffy sat in silence the rest of the way to Pismo Beach and didn’t even bolt from the car when he pulled into the hotel parking lot. After all, it would do no good to cause a scene, not for either one of them at this point in time. “I’m going in to register, Buffy, luv,” he told her, “either wait here or make a run for the beach to escape, either way I’ll catch up to you.” Buffy found herself frozen in shock. She was up in Pismo Beach, miles from Sunnydale with this apparently psychotic, albeit gorgeous, British male who had virtually kidnapped her from her home! “Oh God,” she growled in frustration, “why me? Why now and why him?”

“Come on, Princess,” he ordered as he pulled her from his sports car and led her into a rather impressive suite that set right next to the waves of the Pacific. Buffy looked around the room, overwhelmed at first then spat at him, “what now? I fall to my knees, thank God and Wall Street for the amazing William ‘Spike’ Giles and thank him in my humble but womanly way?” William smiled gently, “no Buffy,” he murmered, “you order room service, anything you want, drink a glass of wine and just talk to me for as long as you need to. If you want me to sleep on the balcony, I will. Want me to sack out on the couch over there, no problem, luv. Bloody hell, woman, I’ll lay down and pass out on the floor if that’s what you really want, but just talk to me. Here and right, tonight. Buffy felt her resolve melting away, this guy was really good after all, a virtual poet when it came down to it. “I just need to sleep,” she mumbled softly, “I’m so tired, William, I just need to get some sleep.”

Spike smiled, his most impressive smile and led Buffy over to the King sized bed in the next room of the suite. “Anything you want Buffy,” he whispered as he lay her down on the soft, plush comforter. “I’m going to go have a drink in the front area, you need me,” he purred, “just call to me.” Buffy waited until he left the room and stripped off her Chateau clothes, “oh I just bet you want me to ‘call to you’ William Giles,” she hissed as she folded her clothes and lay them on the divan next to the bed. “I’ll call you alright! Call you a kidnapping, controlling asshole! That’s what I’ll call you.” Buffy tried to go to sleep, really, but the thought of that snarky, British blond punk in the next room, well okay, so he was less punk and more hunk, anyway, he had kidnapped her and brought her up here, hadn’t he?

“You could have fought more,” she told herself, “you could have told him to let you go, leave you alone, get the hell out of your life!” But she hadn’t, had she? “Buffy Summers,” she sighed, “you are totally screwed, in the metaphorical sense that is,” she assured herself. Something in Buffy told her to get up and go find William, right now, they needed to get something cleared up. When she snuck into the front of the suite, she found him watching some soccer match on TV, his chest was bare, which was reasonable because she saw his clothes folded up and set on the end table by the couch. “William?” she whispered shyly, hoping he’d at least turn to acknowledge her, which he did immediately, “could I have a word with you?” He nodded with a smile and patted the couch next to him, even while he looked at her admiring her in the bulky terry cloth robe the hotel and provided. “I’m not going to sleep with you, William, get that straight,” she said firmly with her arms folded in front of her chest. William looked at her for a second then said with mock a dissapointed whine, “oh bloody hell, Buffy and I even brought my favorite ‘Sesame Street’ jammies with me, the ones with ‘The Count’ on them.” Buffy just rolled her eyes and finally set down next to him.

“Are you this much of a pompous ass in your business,” she asked, scooching up closer to see the tiny men on the television screen. “Usually more so,” he laughed, turning the sound of TV down with the remote. “This a family genetic thing, or just a William ‘I’m God’ Giles kind of thing?” “It’s all me, Princess,” he admitted with a smirk, “my old man’s pretty Godlike, especially in his own mind, but I hold my own with him. I’m pretty much my own man, Buffy. As fucked up as that might be. Sorry for the fucked up thing,” he apologized with a blush. “I hate nasty words, Will,” she sighed as she closed her eyes and tried to relax on the plush couch they shared. “That’s okay,” William chuckled, “I ‘ave a feeling you talk the talk, walk the walk and don’t give a damn about what other people think, Buffy Summers, not really.”

Buffy remembered the stupid joke William had made about the ‘jammies’ and it reminded her that she had nothing but her Chateau hostess dress with her and it was just way too ‘evening’ to meander around Pismo beach in. “I can’t stay here, William,” she sighed a little too wistfully. “I don’t have any clothes.” William broke out in a laugh, “that’s fine by me, but if you insist on being dressed, we’ll go downstairs and buy you some clothes.” She stared at him like he was insane, “I couldn’t let you do that, William,” she gasped. “I’m not that kind of girl, I don’t take presents from virtual strangers you know.” He stopped laughing at that, “I know that Buffy, I know just what kind of a girl you are. You’re a lovely, bright and decent woman who’s had a lot of shit thrown at her lately and is still sweet and real, not a phoney chit or a user. But, I’m afraid you’re going to be stuck here with me for at least two days and you’re right, you will need clothes. So,” he pulled out his wallet along with a cigarette, “I’m going to go smoke outside and look at the great expanse of sea, you take this card and hold onto it. In the morning you can go down and buy the whole damn shop out, or I’ll go for you, so you don’t have to wear that rather daring little number from work.”


Present Day


Buffy snuggled down into the nice comfy bed, alone, for now anyway. William was still downstairs with his Dad, drinking the rest of the Counties dry, no doubt, and she decided to make an early night of it, again. The poems that Will had written about her, Buffy, were sitting on the little oaken end table next to her bed and she couldn’t wait to read them. Of course, Jenny had pleaded with Buffy not to tell Will that she had given them to her, he’d have just died of embarrassment over that. She settled down into the soft bed and reached for the white papers with Will’s beautiful script written on them. She read the first one, with an open mind and heart, it was entitled ‘The Jealous Sun’ and was written, according to the date on the paper, over two years before.

“The Jealous Sun”

The sun is jealous of my love
It hangs it’s head in shame
In all it’s glory it can’t
Outshine, my own
Sweet Buffy’s flame.

Buffy ‘is’ the sun to me
She brings my dark
Soul to light
Eases my worried brow and
Chases off the night.


The sun is jealous of my love
It hangs it’s head in shame
And I was lost, into the night
Until my Buffy came.


By the time Buffy finished the last stanza of the simple, short poem, she was crying uncontrollably, “I can’t leave him, ever,” she sobbed to herself. “He truly loves me and needs me desperately. What can I do, dear God, tell me what to do.” The clock on the mantel struck midnight, and Buffy was snapped out of her self imposed misery to hear Will stumbling about in ‘his’ room next door. She tried to calm down and wiped away the tears on her cheeks, carefully hiding the letters of poetry in the end table’s drawer. “ Twenty, twenty, twenty-four hours ago; I wanna’ be sedated,” came Will’s voice from the other side of the door. Buffy took a deep breath and considered rinsing her face in the adjoining bathroom when she suddenly heard a large ‘bang’ from Will’s room, “OH Bloody Fuck! That hurt!” he yelped. She could tell that Will and his Father had indeed drank the rest of the Counties dry and waited with baited breath to see what her guy would do next.

A light tapping came on the adjoining door, “Buffy,” he whispered, “you awake?” She couldn’t help it, she giggled but didn’t answer. “Buffy,” he whined a bit louder now, “ the big bad Spikey is here to play with you. Come out and play, Buffy. Come out, come out where ever you are, Buffy,” he slurred in a sing song voice. “Get your sexy British ass in here right now, Will Giles,” she ordered just loudly enough for him to hear, “and make sure your parents and the staff don’t hear you!” He chuckled softly as he opened the door and made his way to her bed, “that’s my Buffy. There’s my slayer, the girl who slew the mighty Spike Giles.” Buffy threw her arms out in welcome and Will literally fell into them, “I love you my slayer girl,” he whispered as he cuddled into her warm body. “I love you ‘big bad’ Spike,” she murmered back at him warmly.


A/N: Okay, a couple of things here (yeah, a couple, uhhuh!). First off, I’m sorry for the cornball convo between Buffy and Jenny, but I had to convey that Jenny is ‘on Buffy’s side’ in the matter of Spike. Second, the ‘Spike throws Buffy over his shoulder thingy’ please bear with me, it seems like a Spike thing to do! Third, the poetry sucks, I know it, but please remember, I’m a bad poetress, but a good woman! Please review and thanks everyone for reading.
Luv, Spuf





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