[Reviews - 104]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 3071 times

- Text Size +




A/N: Okay, Spike/William shows up here, in the present, that
Is.


Buffy’s Revenge: Chapter 9 ‘Good Will Hunting’


It had been almost six weeks since Buffy had began and acted on her plan of revenge. Since that first time with Connor, she had learned to juggle all three of her extramarital ‘men’ quite well. Xander was the easiest; when Angel golfed on Thursdays with Riley and Connor, Buffy met him where ever and how ever she could.

Connor and Riley were trickier, but Buffy managed somehow. For the first time since her and Angel’s marriage, she was actually glad that her husband took so many business trips. She tried not to think of just exactly ‘what’ he did on those trips, however.

Connor was as eager as a young child on Christmas morning and Buffy found him endearing, if a little annoying. Riley, the only other two times she managed to ‘see’ him, proved to be as inept in bed and out of it. He was a real wham-bam-thank-you-Mamm, kind of guy and Buffy often wondered the hell Cordy was doing with him?

Xander was different, he was kind, gentle and adoring of her and it always bothered Buffy when she left him, afterwards. Those big brown, puppy dog eyes of his were like windows to his intermost feelings and she knew he may very well feel rather sad and ‘lost’ when she was gone from him. Which, of course, was most of the time. Buffy was almost proud of the way she had pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, especially good old Angel’s.

This Monday morning, Angel and Buffy shared their breakfast on the patio. It was beginning of the end of Spring, Buffy’s favorite season besides Fall and the weather was gorgeous; mild and sweet with the scent of the jasmine bushes in the air. While Maggie poured the next round of coffee for the couple, Angel scanned the Wall Street Journal.

When he finally pulled his nose from the paper he graced Buffy with that charming smile of his, “what’s on the agenda today, babe?” he asked, not really looking at her.

“Not much, as usual,” she sighed. Angel had made it clear from day one of their marriage that Buffy would be a stay-at-home-wife; no real job, just the one that meant running ‘his’ household.

“Hey,” Angel interrupted her thoughts, “why don’t you go get a manicure thingy and meet me at the office for lunch?”

Buffy visibly brightened at this, “okay!” she replied with real enthusiasm, “I’ll be there about 1:00 PM!”

Angel looked so damned pleased with himself for coming up with the lunch idea that Buffy felt an old tinge of warmth for him. At that moment, her husband looked just like he did when they were first married; happy, enthusiastic and most of all, hopefull.


“Make reservations at ‘The Masters’ okay, babe. For 1:30 sharp?”

Buffy nodded quickly, her mind raced ahead. Maybe Angel wanted to go back to the good old days, when they were newlyweds, young and totally wrapped up in each other. Heck, back then she would drop by for lunch all the time and Angel would drop what he was doing, just to be with her. This happy memory reminded her of that horrible day about two months ago when she’d tried to surprise him and…

Angel toddled off to work around 9:30 AM and Buffy scampered upstairs to pick out a great outfit and call ‘The Masters’ the newest and most ‘in’ place in Sunnydale to eat lunch, dinner or supper. After she’d chosen a lovely sundress (it was really hot for late May), she did up her light makeup and drove her car to Angel’s office building.

Much later, after lunch when she was leaving to go back home, Buffy would remember seeing that damn Harley sitting in the ‘Handicapped’ zone up closest to the parking lot entrance.

However, she failed to notice the red and black motorcycle when she first pulled into the parking structure; perhaps she would have just turned around, right then.

This time, when she passed Johnathan, at his security desk, the little guy kind of looked pensive at her.

“Hey, Johnathan!” she chirped as she passed with a warm wave and smile.

“Hi Buffy,” he replied happily, a look of relief on his face.

“He must be still reeling from that horrible day I bolted like an escaped convict!” Buffy punched the ‘up’ button of the elevator and waited patiently for her car to come. The elevator car came, the doors opened and Buffy Travers went into a near coma!

“Hey, Summers,” she cringed when she heard that British accent, saw the bright blond hair and the black clothing.

William ‘Spike’ Giles smirked back at her, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, his whole demeanor a study in cocky arrogance.

“William?” she stammered, “what are you doing here?” He looked her up and down, quickly, kind of like a lion sizing up his next kill.

“What are you doing here, Princess?” he retorted.

“My husband works here, William,” she said softly, a bright red blush began to cover her neck and face.

“I’m here to see Angel, of course,” she finished, a bit more sure of herself as she caught his ice blue eyes with her own hazel ones.

Buffy strode into the elevator, defiantly.

“I came to see your darling Angel, too,” he chuckled, “seen him, done with him.”

She didn’t look at him, just stood in front of him at the floor panel and first punched Angel’s floor number ‘7’ then hit the ‘open’ button.

“Well, that’s good, now you can leave!” she quipped, her smirk as smug as Williams on any day. Instead of leaving, William punched the close button and actually laughed at Buffy’s stunned expression as the elevator doors closed in front of them, leaving both of them alone, together.

“Oh for God’s sake, William!” Buffy hissed as she glared at the blond man now beside her. “What’s your problem? Why are you here? And for heaven’s sake why are you wearing that horrible leather duster? The temperature must be close to 80 degrees!”

Before Spike could answer, she added, “and who said you could smoke in an elevator?” Spike laughed again, his look of delight infuriated Buffy to no end, but she just shook her head in frustration.

She really got frustrated when the blond haired man punched the button that stopped the whole car abruptly and literally threw Buffy into his arms. Buffy pulled away from Spike violently and actually brushed herself off, almost as if she’d contracted some kind of ‘cooties’ from him.

Spike laughed out loud again, causing Buffy to burn with indignation.

“That’s a lot of questions, Princess,” he smirked, “don’t fry your brain trying to come up with such profound ones!”

Buffy growled, her face red with growing anger.

“First off,” he continued as he held up a finger for each answer he gave; “I don’t have a problem. Second, I don’t go anywhere without my bloody duster, third, I ‘like it hot’ and fourth, I don’t follow rules or laws, so, I’ll bloody smoke where I bloody please!” With that, he lit the offending smoke and blew the first puff right into her indignant little face.

“God!” she cursed him, “you’re incorrigible!”

“Oh,” he said smugly as he pinned her in a smoldering stare, “fifth, you’re a bitch!”

Buffy had to refrain from punching him in the nose.

“Start this damn elevator, Giles!” she hissed. “Start it now or I swear to God I’ll hit the alarm and…..”

but Spike didn’t start the elevator, he didn’t ‘do’ anything, he just stared at her, a puzzled look on his face.

“Why are you, besides me Mum, the only one calls me William,” he asked, his smug smirk gone now, replaced by a serious expression.

“You’ve never called my Spike, Buffy, why?” Buffy looked away, embarrassed and far beyond able to tell him she felt the nickname ‘Spike’ was beneath him.

She had a notion how he’d come by that moniker and it offended her somehow. In all of the years, even since that awful night in School, Buffy tried to keep William in ‘her’ fantasy universe. The one where they were close friends and where he still ‘held her on a pedestal.’

Spike, that awful nickname, was never going to be good enough for her ‘Wild William.’

“You’ll always be William to me,” she mumbled softly.

“Years ago you called me Will,” he recalled wistfully.

“We were friends then, William,” she replied with regret, “we haven’t been friends since our Senior year at Sunnydale High.”

She still couldn’t look at him, even when he retorted, “it was you that ruined our ‘friendship’ Buffy. You’re the one that went and fucked it all up when you…..”

Buffy finally hit the ‘up’ button herself, her face a closed book to the man beside her.

“Tell, me, William,” she asked quietly, “what do ‘you do’ for my husband and his firm?” She glanced up to her once good friend.

“Well,” he started, his snarky tone a warngin, “what do ‘you’ do for your husband and his firm?”

Buffy shook her head ruefully, “go to hell, William!” she spat.

“You really want to know? I mean, what I do for your precious hubby?” he asked as he cocked his head to one side, raised that darned scarred left eyebrown of his and stared into her eyes again.

Suddenly, Buffy felt very, very uneasy, “No,” she answered, honestly, “I guess I really don’t.”

The light and bell for the 7th floor dinged, breaking the tension in the little elevator car. Buffy scurried out of the doors the minute they opened but was dismayed to see that William followed her.

“Thought you were done with Angel, today,” she snipped as she turned to face him in the hallway.

“What can I say,” he smiled, “I like elevator rides; up and down, down and up, up and down, down and up, you know.”

Her face burned red again, “you are truly a pig, William Giles!” she spat as she turned to leave him behind. “And unless you’re invited to lunch with my hubby and I, I suggest you go home. Or go do what it is you slime around and do all day!”

She heard his sardonic chuckle behind her, “Buffy,” he called softly, “look at me, luv.”

“I’m not, never was and never am going to be ‘your luv’ William!” she spat as she turned to face him.

William, his left hand holding the open/stop button on the elevator that carried them upstairs, looked at her, the old smirk back in place, his head again cocked to one side.

“ I will definitely ‘catch you later’ Princess.,” he murmered as he stepped back into the elevator.

“Now, what the hell does that mean?!” Buffy asked in exasperation. Before she could finish the question, the elevator doors closed, cutting them off from each other and leaving Buffy alone in the 7th floor hallway.

By the time Buffy reached her husband’s office, she was rattled and somewhat disorientated. She barely noticed Anya in her secretary’s station and totally ignored the other woman’s yawn when she entered the room.

“Could you please tell Angel, I’m here,” she asked Anya, her voice closed and quiet.

“Well, I guess,” Anya replied smugly, her face pinched in a bitchy expression.

‘That’s it!’ thought Buffy, ‘this stops now!’ “Anya,” she stated, curtly, “sit your rather plump ass down and listen. Don’t say a word because you and me are going to come to an understanding, right here, right now!”

Anya’s look of shock was priceless and Buffy had to stifle a laugh. It was high time she took things in hand and laid the law down, and the truth.

“You want this job?” she asked Anya, her left eyebrow now cocked self-righteously. The other woman sat with a huff, on her ergonomic chair, the model Buffy herself had chosen for Angel’s staff.

“Okay,” Buffy said with a smile, “you and me are getting some shit straightened out right now!” Buffy sauntered over to the secretary’s desk, hunkered down on it and looked her straight in the eye. “I had nothing to do with you and Xander breaking up, got it!”

Anya just nodded, dumbly as she watched her bosses’ wife begin to pace back and forth before her.

“Xander and Willow,” Buffy continued, with determination, “have been bestest friends since they were five-years-old. If Xander and ‘you’ couldn’t make a go of it, it’s the way it is! I’m not involved in this. You knew how Xander felt about Willow, about me for that matter, ‘you’ chose to become involved with him. Quit blaming me for your problems and dissapointments with Xander Harris!”

Buffy ranted on and on, never letting the other woman get a word in edge wise.

“Now,” Buffy went on, her voice even; her tone rational; “you need to get on with your life. Get over Xander, move on and try to get some happiness for yourself!”

Anya was still struck dumb with shock and what Buffy said next truly silenced her completely.

“You know that new intern for the office, Andrew?” Buffy asked, her voice was soft and sweet. Anya nodded, she knew him.

“Well,” Buffy smiled, “he’s absolutely crazy about you, did you know that?” ‘No’ Anya didn’t know that.


“Well,” Buffy said evenly as she leaned over the desk to look Anya right in the eye, “now you do! Do something about it!” With that, Buffy sashayed into her husband’s office and slammed the door behind her.

Angel smiled, his most angelic smile, “hey, baby. I couldn’t help but overhear what you said to Anya, you’re the best!” And for a moment, Buffy believed that.

“Just saying the way it is, Angel,” she sighed, “poor Anya, she needs to move on, right?” She looked at her husband, expectantly, “what do ‘you’ think of Andrew?”

Angel chuckled and walked over to his wife, “I think that Anya better jump on that train and ride it to the end. She’s not all that, is she Buff?”

Buffy looked away from her husband, “Anya’s a lovely woman, Angel. She’s just not right for Xander, maybe Andrew is the one?”

The conversation turned when Angel clasped her little hands, “we need to get going if you got that reservation. Let’s talk about this later. Maybe at dinner tomorrow, at the Club. We’re meeting Cordelia and Riley at the Country Club. You know Cordy, babe, she has something to say about everyone!”

Buffy felt like throwing up, but she nodded, obediently, “yeah, that’s Queen C. The talker of the town.”





You must login (register) to review.