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MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 9: ‘Best Laid Plans’


The ‘little’ bed and breakfast that William always referred to, the one in Bath, Great Britain, was more like a remodeled manor over hundreds of years old. Buffy had fallen in love with the old place the year before and couldn’t wait to get back to it. It was nestled back in the woodlands, surrounded by huge gardens that rivaled Jenny Giles and overlooked a lush green valley. Of course, Will made sure they had the 'best’ room in the hotel, the best view, the best furnishings, the best of the best, nothing less for Buffy.

While using Gile’s Manor as a home base, Buffy and William rented a car and drove to Bath for a stay of three days. Buffy wanted to get back to Gile’s Manor within a good amount of time, because she of course couldn’t wait to get into London and see just everything she could again. With it’s history, museums, architecture and sense of tradition, it was like an opiate to someone with Buffy’s tastes. She knew that William just gave into most of her whims, he wasn’t really into art and such, but he loved her, that was one thing she could be sure of. He would do ‘almost’ anything for her, but perhaps not the one thing she truly needed him to do…change his killer business instincts and controlling nature.


Flashback Spike’s POV


Spike sat at his office desk bright and early on Monday morning, smoking his third cigarette of the day and drinking his second cup of coffee. He knew his Mum and Dad would laugh at him, his Americanized habit of coffee instead of tea, but the truth was, he really didn’t like tea, never had. While checking something of absolutely little interest to him on his computer, he thought back to a few days before and his little ‘trip’ with Buffy. Once she’d gotten over calling him a psycho, kidnapping, overbearing pompous ass, she settled down and began to relax with him at the hotel. With a chuckle, he remembered the look on her face when he’d brought back three huge bags of ‘things’ from the boutique right in the lobby of the hotel. Buffy, at first, was hesitant about even looking at the clothes and things he’d picked out for her, he had to didn’t he? She only had one piece of real clothing with her, the restaurant hostess dress that would raise more then one or two eyebrows in the hotel shop. Of course, he’d spent the night before on the couch, leaving her the huge and rather inviting king sized bed in the suite to sleep in all by her lonesome. Not that he was happy about that, of course not, but he really didn’t expect a woman like Buffy to welcome him into her bed, especially after he’d basically taken her away against her will and cost her her second job at that rathole, Bronze.

Like he had explained, twenty or so times to Buffy, not only was she above that job, it was probably not in her best interests to be within five miles of this Faith skank that had slept with Angel O’Connor. Besides, Spike had already arranged with Xander Harris to take Buffy on another night at The Chateau, a much more agreeable job for someone like her. It helped that he’d already also arranged to buy half of the restaurant, without Buffy’s knowledge of course, along with Xander, who Spike now considered a straight up bloke and a good friend. Never hurt to have varied businesses anyway, even if Rupert Giles would probably raise his eyebrows at his only son who would buy a restaurant of any kind. ‘If he met Buffy,’ Spike reasoned, ‘Dad would buy the bloody thing himself, just to keep an eye over his son’s future wife and mother of his grandchildren.’ Spike, to be sure, was already very certain that Buffy Summers would soon be Mrs. William Giles, even if he had to ‘talk’ her into marriage.

More important then anything, the last couple of days in Pismo Beach had given both Spike and Buffy time and space to get to know each other better. When they weren’t walking along the beach, they were going through the hundreds of antique shops, or eating at some surprisingly decent restaraunts. The very first night, of course, Buffy spent calling him names and accusing him of all sorts of devious acts, understandable, really. “Would you have gone out with me if I’d have asked you on a normal date first?” Spike asked her finally at around 2:00 AM. “No,” she answered without missing a beat. “Well,” he retorted, “you gave me no choice but to drag you up here. How can you get to know me if you don’t spend some alone time with me?” Buffy didn’t seem totally placated by that, naturally, but she did give in and seemed to relax with him, even suggesting some things they could do together, thus the antique shops she adored. Of course, she stuck to her guns, she did not sleep with him, period and he slept on couch. He did not push the issue, like it or not, just accompanied her everywhere she went, of course, and even took her to see some silly chick flick at the theatre in town. One that she sat and cried about for at least two hours once they’d gotten back to the hotel room. Spike gallantly patted her on the back gently to comfort her, careful not to press too closely to her, and brought out a bottle of champagne from the suite’s kitchenette.

Deep in memories at his office desk this Monday morning, Spike barely heard Mrs. Kruger buzz a call into him. “It’s Mr. Gunn,” she stated in her nasally voice. “Spike?” came Charles usually casual tone, a very deceptive tone indeed. “What’s up?” Spike asked, a bit put off that his thoughts of Buffy were disturbed. “Well, Angel O’Connor won’t be bothering Buffy Summers anymore, not for a long while anyway.” Spike sat up abruptly, “tell me that prick is in jail,” he ordered rather then asked. “Oh, yeah and he’s looking at prison time, Wood’s sure of it. In fact, old Robin couldn’t wait to help bust this guy. I’m thinking that he may have suspected something between his squeeze and this Angel dickhead. I did tell him that he hit Buffy Summers, thought that would up the anger level for old Robin and his Sunnydale Boyscouts.” Spike smiled, even if he was still pissed about the bruise on poor Buffy’s face; she’d tried to cover it the whole time in Pismo, but he saw it. In fact, Spike would never forget it, but at least for a while, hopefully a long long while, Buffy would be completely free of Angel O’Connor.


Present Day


Buffy just loved London. Actually she loved everything she’d ever seen, done or been a part of in England, but London was her favorite place of all. She was standing on the balcony of the Westbury Mayfair Hotel, loving every breath of the city she was taking and listening to Will ‘chat’ on the phone with someone from Sunnydale; Charles Gunn, she supposed. ‘There’s something fishy about that Gunn guy,’ she thought to herself, but quickly dismissed the thought as Will joined her on the balcony. Will threw his arms about her waist and pulled her to him, “so, where first, Princess?” he murmered as he nuzzled her neck with his lips. “British Museum, National Gallery, or right to the William Morris Museum so you can gloat and discuss the finer points of socialism with me, died in the wool bloody capitalist that I am?” He chuckled in her ear before he gave it a soft kiss. The sun was just beginning to set and Buffy was tired from the trip back to Gile’s Manor, then straight to London; she just wanted a bath, room service and bed, in that order, hopefully.

“Can we stay in tonight, Will?” she asked, snuggling into his arms even more, “it’s kind of late for museums and I’m kind of tired and hungry. What do you say, we’ll slip into a lovely tub and discuss a true ‘unhostile’ capitalist takeover?” Buffy smirked and giggled when Will actually blushed pink, matching his own patent smirk. “Well,” he sighed, kissing first her forehead softly, then her cheek, then her lips with his own, “I’ll take a bath with you over any bloody museum or financial discussion any day, luv.” He walked backwards, holding her tightly and leading her into the spacious bathroom of the Westbury and to the huge lion footed tub.


Flashback Buffy’s POV


Buffy was just finishing up with classes on Tuesday and getting ready to report to The Chateau for work that evening. Luckily, Xander had asked her to come in an extra day from now on, which was pretty timely, considering William Giles had cost her her job at The Bronze. Not that she was exactly crying over that one, the thought of being anywhere near Faith Evans made her physically ill and the hours were just too killer, even if they were weekend hours. Frankly, Buffy needed more time to study for classes and just plain more time for herself. She still couldn’t get over the whole ‘kidnap’ plan that William had maneuvered last Thursday night, not to mention the fact that Xander had something to do with it, but she did need this Chateau job, so…..

At precisely 8:30 PM that night, William walked into The Chateau and right up to Buffy’s station. “Oh, no, William Giles,” she hissed automatically, “no more Buffy kidnappings!” He laughed out loud, “no Princess, I came to ask you out on a real date this time. You know, nice place, dressed up in something you pick out, flowers and I actually pick you up, at your place.” Buffy looked him over once or twice, “well,” she stammered for a moment or two, “I shouldn’t allow a psychotic kidnapper to even know where I live, much less pick me up there, but, okay, this time.” To herself she thought, ‘damn pout of his, I knew it’d be trouble!’ “Okay, tomorrow night alright?” he smiled, a very dazzling smile she noted, “I work tomorrow night,” she answered, sounding just a tad too dissapointed to herself. “You can get out of work, I know it,” Will chuckled, “I’ve got an ‘in’ with your boss.” He smiled again and added, “see you at 7:30 PM, Princess,” as he turned and began to leave. “William,” Buffy called out, as lowly as she could to be heard, “I need to give you my address and directions.” William turned and smiled again, “I already have them.” Then he was gone out of the door.

William was ten minutes early and Buffy wasn’t ready yet, but almost. “Come in,” she smiled sweetly as she showed him into her tiny apartment. ‘He’ll probably think this place is a dump, compared to what he’s used to and all,’ she thought, concerned for some reason. “Nice place, luv,” he said politely as Mr. Gordo, her beloved tabby went up to investigate this strange man. The orange striped tabby sniffed William’s leg once or twice, rubbed against it and then looked at Buffy as if to say, “he’ll do, for a human that is.” William raised his left scarred eyebrow as if to ask “do I pass?” Buffy broke out in laughter, “I think Mr. Gordo likes you, William!”

“Do you like me, Princess? That’s the million dollar question,” William quipped back, sitting down on her Chinese silk sofa. “Well, yeah, I suppose I do Will!” she giggled back at him, “otherwise you wouldn’t be here, right?” As if to prove her right, Mr. Gordo slunk over to the sofa and jumped lightly, well as lightly as a fifteen pound tabby could, onto William’s lap. “Well,” Buffy continued to chuckle, “now I ‘know’ Mr. Gordo likes you. He never takes to anyone that fast!” William began to rub the purring cat’s head and smiled up at Buffy looking quite pleased to be appreciated by her cat. It caused Buffy’s breath to catch in her throat ‘you look like a young boy, Will,’ she thought, stunned. “Do you mind if I call you Will?” she asked suddenly, blushing. “No, Princess,” he chuckled, patting the cat again, “you’d be the only person alive I’d let call me Will.” Buffy grabbed her shawl off the cherry wood coat rack by the door, “well, I guess we can go, huh?” He nodded, gently putting Mr. Gordo down on the Persian throw in front of the sofa, “hope you like Italian food, Princess,” he said, “Xander tells me this place up the coast is very good. It’s the La Trattoria and old Harris claims it’s the best place for miles.”


Present Day


“Wow!” Buffy whispered after finishing the last of her wine from dinner, “I’m really tired and kind of whoozy again, Will. Like before.” Spike got up from the other side of the ornate table and hurried around to her side. “This is beginning to really concern me, sweetheart,” he mumbled tenderly, his tone thick with worry. “Oh, don’t worry, Will,” she sighed and put her little warm hands on his cheeks, “I’m sure it’s just some side affects and all.” He looked at her, totally puzzled and unsure of what she was trying to tell him.

“Side affects of what?” Spike asked, beginning to feel very uneasy in the pit of his stomach. “My new birth control pill perscription, honey,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I didn’t want you to worry, it was just before our trip here. I noticed something wasn’t quite right so I went to see Dr. Denisof. He felt I should have a stronger perscription, that’s all. And, why didn’t you tell me you called him about that one time I forgot my old pill. He said you thought I’d missed more then two pills, but it was just one.” Spike felt like he’d been kicked in the gut, twice. “Why didn’t you tell me you went to the Dr. before we came here?” he asked quietly, trying not to show the dissapointment in his tone. “Like I said, sweetheart, didn’t want you to worry. I know how nervous coming here, seeing your Dad in particular makes you. I just wanted to take care of the problem and let you relax this once.”

“Oh, uhm,” Spike could barely breathe, much less speak right then. Not only had Buffy learned about the ‘phone call’ to Dr. Denisof, she apparently got put on stronger birth control pills. He felt like he was going to be sick. “What did Dr. Denisof have you do with your old perscription, Princess?” he asked evenly, still trying to hide his stunned dissapointment. “I flushed them down the toilet, honey. Just like Dr. Denisof told me to. I guess they don’t want any pills to just get thrown in the trash.” Spike clenched his jaw, tightly, and tried not to sound angry, shocked or anything but genuinely concerned; she sat there, those green eyes all wide and adoring, shining at him. “Well,” he sighed, mustering a loving smile, “I’m just glad it’s not something more serious. I’m sure you’ll level out in no time and these ‘spells’ will fade away completely. What do you say, let’s hit the sack and I’ll try to think of some way to ease your fatigue and dizzyness?” To himself he thought, sardonically, ‘the best laid plans…’ He clutched her tightly to him, trying not to let her feel the desperation he now felt deep inside of himself. “I love you so much, Buffy,” he whispered, hoarsely, “I’d do anything for you, anything.”


A/N: Well, as I said in a few chapters back, Spike’s plans have a way of ‘backfiring’ on him. Next chapter, we’ll read about the ‘date’ to……over nevermind, please just read it. Read and review, please, thanks. Luv, Spuf





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