[Reviews - 100]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 3325 times

- Text Size +




REBEL HEARTS


Chapter 11: ‘What a Woman!’


A/N: Still no response ability so…thank you to everyone!

This next chapter is for fun, kind of, that is. It is the calm before the storm for our couple. Spike is, after all, somewhat ruthless and he wants Buffy, so…


Spike watched Buffy, carefully, as they sat quietly and ate their meal together. He was trying extremely hard not to mention the events of the day, the ones he had not been witness to, but had told to him. Jesse had relayed every detail of that morning’s happenings, even the part where Buffy threatened that wanker Angel O’Connor’s manhood. In the most lady like way, of course. A smirk played upon his lips as he eyed the object of his passion, Buffy, toy with her wine glass.

‘She drinks wine tonight,’ he chuckled to himself. ‘Her confrontation with O’Connor must have unhinged her a bit more then she would be willing to admit.’

Actually, Spike was furious. Furious that that bastard, O’Connor had dared show his face at Finnwood again, after what he, Spike had warned him the last time. Then, to think that Buffy had to face down this cheeky bastard by herself, well, Jesse was there, but he was a slave. That in itself was no threat to someone as pompous and self-important as Angel O’Connor, simpering fool he may be.

Spike had to chuckle, inwardly, at the thought of Buffy pulling a pistol on that fuck, ‘what a woman,’ he sighed in admiration. As a Captain in the British Army, however, he was less then thrilled with Lt. Doyle for stepping in a tad too late in the matter.

“What?” Buffy asked William, evenly enough, as she sipped her third glass of wine. ‘I am a fool,’ she chided herself ruefully, ‘I have never been able to handle alcohol in any form, much less three glasses of wine. Any more and I will be swinging from the crystal chandelier in my husband’s fine living room before 9:00 tonight!’

Buffy began to giggle at that vision in her head. ‘Look everyone! Buffy Summers-Finn swings from her unfaithful, idiotic, hypocritical husband’s chandelier after drinking wine from his family heirloom stemware! And with a British Captain in attendance, no less! See how she she sways on her swing of fine crystal…her half naked body afloat in the air above the exquisite Italian Renissance furniture!’

‘Her beloved British Captain is captivilated, no, he’s captivinated, no…he is ‘captivated’ by the ‘His’ muse’s, Elizabeth ‘Buffy’ Summers-Finn (oh the heck with it, leave the Finn off!) sweet, nubile body. The one that is unmarred by pregnancy, present or probably future. For, there will be no children with Riley Finn, she, the proper if loyal Buffy, will make sure of that. With the help of her devoted, and ancient wisdom of her wonderful friend and servant, Mahalia.’

Unable to help herself, Buffy burst out in peals of laughter at her inner, silly thoughts, ‘oh, I am tipsy and right on the way to drunk,’ she mused. William eyed her suspiciously, she felt it anyway, but she noticed that smirk of his on his very nice lips.

‘They are very nice lips indeed,’ she giggled as she returned his gaze. ‘And, he kisses so devinely, even when he’s trying to force me to…’

“Buffy, luv,” his deep, wonderful voice interrupted her wicked thoughts, “perhaps you have had enough wine, sweet.”

She pouted and picked up her half empty glass, defiantly, “perhaps,” she snickered, “but, perhaps not!” With a saucy little grin, she finished off the sweet liquid in her glass, not even pausing to take dainty, lady-like sips as she should have.

“Buffy, you better be careful, dear,” Spike warned cautiously, “you’ve had a little too much wine. Better slow down, luv, else you’ll have a major headache in the morning.”

He grinned despite himself, she was adorable, even tipsy and Spike wondered if now might be the time to ‘make his case’ once again, for her affections. Spike eyed Buffy with cautious delight, “you’ve had a hard day, Princess,” he acknowledged, “maybe you should get to bed now and…”

Buffy giggled coyly, “oh, you would like me to go to bed, wouldn’t you Will,” she cooed. “Just so you could try and join me, later. Take advantage of me, use me and…”

He frowned deeply, “I would never, ever use you, Princess,” he growled as he stood from his seat. “For ‘when’ you and I make love, Buffy, my sweet, I intend on having you totally sober and fully aware of just who is making love to you.”

Buffy, who even in the last few days never ceased to amaze Spike, rose from her chair, a bit unsteadily, but she rose all the same.

“Oh,” she cried haughtily, “so, you think that ‘you’ will make love to me, William Anderson? That I’ll succumb to your passionate words of devotion for me? Your silly prose and stupid smirk or even your gorgeous blue eyes? I suppose,” she continued in a very surley voice, “that you think I’ll give into your ceaseless ramblings of seduction.”

“Angel O’Connor has tried this, Captain, and did quite well. He really pushed his point in fact, however, like I told him, I am married to Riley Finn. Stupidly married to him? Maybe. Unhappliy? Certainly, but married I am. In the eyes of God and the Colony of South Carolina. Maybe, if you are truly canny, you can throw my bastard of a husband’s faults at me. Turn my silly, simpering and weak womanly mind to you, much like that idiot Angel O’Connor tried and failed, I might add!”

She began to pace about, her growing frustration apparent to anyone who witnessed it.

“Oh, you men, you are truly cut from the same cloth, all of you. You think that we women, your true objects of ‘passion’ and ‘love’ are some idols set on pedastels that are far above the flesh and blood world we live in.”

“Well,” she hissed as she poured another glass of wine for herself, “I have news for you, Lord/Captain/Mister, oh whatever, William Anderson, we are not idols, or Angels or Goddesses, we are women, humans like yourselves. We are flesh and blood, with needs, wants and desires that probably none of you, simple men that you are, could ever hope to understand!”

Spike sat, stunned beyond words, at least for a moment or two. Before he could respond to his darling Buffy, she plopped down on her dinner chair and eyed him with a look of exasperation.

“Why,” she mumbled, her voice tinged with an unsure note. “Why, Will,” she continued shakily, “even though you are incredibly handsome, with your azure eyes, high cheekbones and really nice lips,” she smirked as she surveyed his face.

“Why, even though I should not complain, and I’m really not,” she murmered, shakily with half closed lids over her gorgeous green; “why are there now two of you?”

That did it. Spike strode around the huge oak dining table and literally swept Buffy off of her feet.

“Sorry, luv,” he explained curtly, “but it’s time for you to get to bed. I would let you go upstairs by yourself, but I’m afraid you will trip and break your precious neck.”

He carried a very groggy Buffy out of the dining room, and ran into Mahalia, hovering about the hallway door.

“Please follow me upstairs, Mahalia,” he asked politely, “your Mistress is indisposed and I need to carry her to her room. I would appreciate your accompanying us, for her sake especially, her sense of propriety and all. Personally, if I was less of a gentleman, I would sweep my lovely Buffy upstairs and take total advantage of her, especially in her inebriated condition.

However, I love your Mistress, insanely, devotedly and most eternally, love her with all of my heart. And, I was raised better then to abuse my one true love and I think our Buffy would appreciate you being there, to ‘care for her’ as she needs.”

Mahalia broke into a wide grin and quickly nodded her head, “yes Captain Anderson,” she chuckled, “I’ll go tend to Missy Buffy. Shame though,” the servant muttered, “that a fine woman like Mrs. Finn and good man like you can’t come to ‘some’ agreement on the spark that goes between the two of you.”

“Will,” Buffy murmered groggily, “where am I?” She glanced around and recognized her own bedroom, Riley and hers. “Oh,” she groaned miserably.

“Will!” she hissed as she tried to bolt up from her bed, where he had laid her. “You should not be in here…”

William grinned at her, then winked wickedly, “oh, but I should, some day, sweet,” he chuckled warmly. “However, for now, I will leave your maid to help you ready for bed and tend to your needs. I will say goodnight, Buffy darling and I hope that you sleep well. Also, I hope you will not be too ill in the morning, luv.”

He smiled at her lovingly, his expression seemed to change to longing as he met her gaze with his blue eyes.

“Oh, Will,” Buffy called to him just before he exited her room, “I need to tell you something.”

William halted and nodded his head to her, “Jesse should not have told you about O’Connor. I handled him quite well,” she stated evenly.

“And,” she continued with an air of pride, “I happen to be a very good shot. I just wanted to scare that son-of-a-bitch more then usual.”

Her platinum blonde, British Captain grinned widely in response, then turned and left the room.

Spike left the massive bedroom of his love and her hated husband. He hurried downstairs and out to the front porch where two of his Lieutenants sat smoking and chatting together.

“Abrams,” Spike barked, bringing his trusted Officer to his feet. “I need a word with you, Lieutenant. There are some orders I need you to carry out, in the next few days. It’s most important that this matter be handled with the upmost legality and tact.”

Abrams looked at his Superior with an unsure eye, “of course, Sir,” he responded automatically.

“Good,” Spike chuckled, “I think you will appreciate my plan, if anyone does Lieutenant.”


A/N: Kind of a short chapter for me. I have got to get the Spuffy loving in here soon! I can’t keep putting it off, I know. Anyway, please read and review. Reviews, good or bad, make the next chapter come sooner! This chapter was kind of ‘fun’ to write and is supposed to lighten the mood before some angst. Thank you, everyone for reading. Luv, Spufette





You must login (register) to review.