Buffy waited for William all day. The sun rose high in the sky and then fell beyond the horizon. The streets darkened and the kids in the neighbourhood abandoned their games for the comfort of home, but he didn't return. Buffy knew better than to call him. She knew he'd want to be alone.
Finally, she went upstairs, lay on their bed and stared at the ceiling.
When she awoke it was pitch black. She glanced at the alarm clock. It was 4am. She heard the door open, the footsteps heavy on their steps. Buffy steeled herself as the door opened.
"Hi," she whispered. Her husband just stared at her.
"Will," she began.
"Still here are you?" William interrupted. Buffy winced at the hurt in his voice, the bitterness and anger. Buffy noticed how his eloquent tongue was stumbling over his words. He was blind stinking drunk.
"Where else would I be?" she whispered, standing up and coming closer to him.
"Thought you might have run off," he said bitterly.
"Cashing in that two million dollar lottery ticket you have between your legs."
Suddenly furious, Buffy hauled off and slapped him across the cheek. Hard enough for her hand to sting.
"How dare you say that," she raged. "I would never….."
"No?" William taunted. "Wouldn't you? Never?"
"That," Buffy said, trying to hold back her tears. "That's different."
William laughed then. An empty hollow laugh.
"Right," he said. "Keep telling yourself that Summers. You just keep telling yourself that and maybe someday you'll
believe it."
"You know it is," Buffy pleaded. "You know it's not like that."
"Let me tell you what it looks like," William said, hysteria creeping into his voice. "Girl meets bloke. Bloke takes care of girl. The world is sunshine and flowers and puppies."
"Stop," Buffy whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.
"Please."
"Then the girl meets a much much much richer bloke. And when the sunshine is gone, the flowers are wilted and the puppies are dead, the girl chooses a much richer bloke," William finished. "Am I close?"
"Don't say that," Buffy said, her voice breaking. "I'm not choosing him over you."
"But you are," William said, his eyes filled with tears. "You're choosing him. Aren't you?"
"For one night," Buffy said, trying to make him understand.
"A night that'll come and go, but the money will last us a lifetime."
"Sod the money," William said stubbornly. "You're not bloody well whoring yourself out."
"We're drowning Will," Buffy begged. "Our house. Mom's museum. We're drowning. And I can save us."
"It's only things," William said, grabbing a lamp. He threw it against the wall, and Buffy ducked as shards scattered everywhere. "It's only bloody things Buffy. It's not us."
"It's not only things," Buffy screamed. "This is us. Mom's museum. Our house. This is our life. I don't want to lose our life."
"And I don't want to lose you," William seethed. "Don't you bloody understand? It'll be the end of us."
"Is my body the only thing you care about?" she added, bitterly. "The only thing you love?"
"How can you even say that?" he said, looking for all the world as if she'd hit him again. Exhausted now, William slumped down into the corner of the bed. Buffy approached him as she would a hand grenade.
"It wouldn't mean anything," she said softly, touching his shoulder. William turned his head away from her. She knew he was crying. That he blamed himself.
"It's not my heart Will," Buffy whispered, touching his cheek, making him face her. "It's not my soul. You'll always have those."
"Promise me," William said, his voice heavy from drink, his eyes nearly closing. "That you'll always be mine."
God, Buffy thought. He sounded exhausted.
"I promise," she soothed, as she brought his face down to her neck, then lay his body down.
"Will?" she said softly.
"I'll always be yours," she promised his sleeping form.
"Always."
When William awoke, he had a splitting headache.
"Hey," he heard his wife say.
"Hey,' he rasped. William looked around. The bedroom was askew, the covers thrown off, the paintings tilted, the remains of their night lamp scatterd on the floor.
And then last night came flooding back to him. The fight. The words he'd said. The way he'd behaved.
"Buffy," he began.
"It's okay," she soothed, touching his chest, then resting her head against him. "It's all okay."
"I'm sorry," he said finally.
"I'm sorry too," Buffy said as he stroked her back with his fingers. Finally she looked up at him, cupping his chin in
her hands.
"And thank you," she said. Buffy planted a gentle kiss on his mouth, then turned away to begin cleaning up the mess.
"For what?" William frowned.
"For last night," Buffy said, looking back at him. He saw her search herself for the words. "For….for understanding."
"Understanding?" William said.
"For understanding what I have to do," Buffy said. "For saying….you wouldn't stand in the way."
William felt his heart stop. I said that? No, that's
impossible. I would never say yes to that. Never. His eyes widened. He tried to rack his memory of last night. God, everything was so hazy.
William opened his mouth to argue, but then froze.
Did I say that? God, could I have said that. I was so drunk. No, I couldn't have. William looked into Buffy's eyes. She wouldn't lie to him about this, would she? Not about this?
"I said that?" William whispered. Buffy gave him just the hint of a nod, then turned around and bit her lip. Guilt flooded her about the lie she'd just told. Buffy knew William would never agree to this. Not a million years. But she had to do this. For them. For her mom's museum.
But he didn't say no, Buffy reasoned with herself. That's kind of a yes.
"We both agreed," Buffy continued, keeping her voice carefully steady, as if she were discussing the weather.
"We've slept with other people before. We'd just have to think of it that way."
Finally, she turned back to look at him, having gained control of her emotions.
"Are we okay Will?" she asked. She could see the confusion and hurt writ large on his face, but also a desperation to get things back to normal.
"Yeah," he rasped finally. "We're okay."
"I love you," she said.
I'm sorry William. I'm so sorry.
"Yeah," he said, looking away and sliding his legs over the side of the bed. Buffy waited for him to say it, but then accepted her fate. She got to her feet and lingered at the door, looking back. His shoulders were slumped and defeated. He was staring out the window with glazed eyes.
It's just one night, Buffy reasoned with herself. We'll move past it. And then we never have to worry about anything again. But a small part of her worried she'd just made a fatal mistake.
Two weeks later…
Buffy sat in front of her laptop, her fingers poised over the keyboard. William was gone all day, applying to different law firms. Neither of them had spoken about it, eager to pretend it never happened, but there had been a strained aspect to their relationship.
Buffy had been busy making calls, trying to offload most of her art collection and rent out the space, but she'd had no luck. She'd put it off as much as she could in the hopes that something would change, but things had only gotten more dire.
I have to do this, Buffy thought, taking a deep breath. For us. For our life.
And then she Googled the hotel she and William had stayed at in Atlantic City. Buffy picked up her cellphone and dialed the hotel. She tried to keep her breathing steady as the phone rang. And rang. And rang.
"Welcome to the Haven resort," a pleasant voice said. "This is Thomas the concierge, how may I assist you?"
Buffy tried to speak. Only a croak emerged.
"Hello?" the voice said on the other end. "Hello?"
"Hi," Buffy managed, her voice high and unnatural. "I uh…..uhm."
"How may I assist you madam?"
Buffy didn't know what to say. How could she even begin to explain.
"I….I'd like to leave a message," she managed. "My name is Buffy Summers."
"Ah," she heard him say. "Very good Ms Summers. For what room number?"
Buffy thought about it. The room number? What was it?
"The presidential suite," she remembered suddenly.
"I'm afraid that's impossible," Thomas said smoothly. "The presidential suite is empty. And when it is occupied, it is reserved for…..an exclusive party. No messages, in or out. No disturbances."
Buffy tried not to panick.
"The message is for Xander," Buffy managed to say.
Even over the phone, she could tell she had managed to shock the seemingly unflappable employee.
"Just," Buffy began. "Just tell him…."
What? Tell him what? How could I possibly explain this to a stranger.
Buffy closed her eyes. Think Buffy, think.
"Ask him if he'd like to bet two million dollars," Buffy said, her voice shaking a little. "On Red 17. Trust me. If you want to keep your job, you need to deliver this message."
And before the man could question her further, Buffy disconnected the call.
Thomas looked at the phone in his hand. Two million dollars? On Red 17? Losing my job?
The concierge shook his head and swatted the thought away. Some crazy person, that's all it is. But as he went through the day, Thomas's mind kept returning to that phonecall.
Two million dollars? On Red 17?
It sounded like a message. Like some sort of code.
Thomas thought about it. He'd been at this hotel for five years and he'd only met Mr Harris a couple of times in passing. The man had been nothing but affable, if a little demanding, but that was to be expected. And on the off chance that he could lose his job? He had a wife and three kids to support. He couldn't take that chance. And what was the harm if it was a joke or some crazy person anyway? Thomas knew there was no way he could ever get straight in touch with Mr Harris, but his assistant Willow on the other hand…..
"What's Red 17?"
Xander looked up. His assistant cum best friend Willow was hovering over his desk in his office in NYC, looking as if she wanted to smack the crap out of him.
"Excuse me?" he said.
"Some crazy lady left a message with the concierge," Willow said, holding up a scrap of paper in her hands.
"Two million dollars on Red 17?" Willow said. "Ring any bells?"
Willow could see a flicker of recognition in Xander's eyes.
"What have you done?" Willow said, glaring at him.
"Please tell me you haven't done anything dumb. I'm getting tired of paying TMZ."
"What was her name?" Xander said, stretching out his hand for the paper.
"Answer me," Willow said.
"Give it to me," Xander said, annoyed.
"Or what?" Willow dared him.
"Or you're fired," Xander said.
"I'll need that in writing," Willow said gleefully, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. "I think I'll do something a lot more relaxing. Maybe take a job assembling Iphones in China. Or maybe I'll pick fruit in California."
"Fine," Xander grumbled. "I'd fall apart without you. You're the best. Just give me the goddamn paper."
Willow shook her head, then placed the tiny scrap in his hand. She saw Xander examine it.
"Red 17," Xander whispered, a small smile spreading over his face.
What did you do Xander? Willow thought, shaking her head. What the hell did you do?
Buffy was getting antsy. It had been nearly a week since she'd left the message for Xander, but so far there had been no reply. She considered picking up the phone and trying again, but she didn't want to come off as…..
Desperate, Buffy thought wretchedly. That's exactly what I am.
Sometimes Buffy couldn't believe she was actually considering doing this. Even to her it seemed crazy. She'd get angry with herself, before she remembered she was a bad month away from being destitute.
Then she would feel sad, as she remembered the young naïve girl she was and what she imagined her life would be like.
And William would hardly ever look at her anymore, much less touch her. She knew he was still angry with her, even though his fury wasn't burning hot. Maybe he hoped she'd changed her mind about going through with it.
Whatever the case, they hadn't even come close to broaching the subject. But Buffy had decided she'd broach that bridge when she came to it. Meanwhile, William had got several call backs. Nothing concrete, but hope was eternal.
Then Buffy was forced to consider the fact that Xander probably didn't even remember her. Maybe he just went around making offers to buy women.
What a shock, Buffy thought. The creep.
Finally, in the middle of dinner, Buffy received a phonecall.
William glanced at her only half interested, then got back to his meal.
"Hi Ms Summers," a chirpy voice said. "I'm Fred, Mr Harris's attorney. I got your number from our guest records. You left a message for Mr Harris?"
"Yes," Buffy said, trying not to betray the anxiety in her voice.
"Mr Harris would like to discuss things," Fred said. "I'll be arriving in Sunnydale in the afternoon. Could you make it to the Hilton tomorrow at 4?"
"Sure," Buffy said, glancing nervously at William.
"And Ms Summers?" Fred said gently. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but you should probably bring your own lawyer."
"Okay," Buffy swallowed. "Bye."
Buffy hung up the phone and sat down, beginning her dinner.
"Who was it?" William asked, as he folded the paper.
"A buyer for some museum art," Buffy said, shocked at how easily the lie slipped off the tongue. The slightest hint of a smile flashed across William's face and Buffy felt another stab of searing pain pierce her heart.
The next day, Buffy found Fred in the hotel lobby. She took an instant liking to the cute as a button brunette and wondered why Xander had sent this sweet girl to be his henchman.
"Did you bring a lawyer?" Fred asked.
"She'll be here," Buffy nodded, looking around nervously as if she was afraid of being recognized.
"I've reserved the conference room," Fred said, gently touching Buffy's shoulder. "We'll have the utmost privacy."
Buffy nodded, her cheeks flushing with shame. But there was no judgement in Fred's eyes, only the deepest sympathy and understanding. Buffy could sense that Fred was a good person, who was just doing her job.
Just then, Buffy spotted the only person she could trust with something like this.
"Hey B," Faith grinned. "I'm so glad you called. I wouldn't miss this for the world."
"Shall we?" Fred said, a little too chirpily for Buffy's liking.
"Go ahead," Buffy said. "We'll catch up in a bit."
"Take your time," Fred said, giving Buffy a reassuring smile.
Faith watched Fred go, then frowned at Buffy.
"Okay," Faith said. "Game's over Buffy. Haha. You got me good."
Buffy didn't reply.
"Buffy," Faith said. "This is a joke right? Please tell me this…."
"I," Buffy said. "I need your help Faith. I have no one else to turn to."
"Buffy," Faith said. "You can't do this. This isn't you."
"I need the money," Buffy said sadly.
"Buffy," Faith said shaking her head.
"Don't judge me okay," Buffy said, angrily swiping a tear away from her cheek. "You don't understand. You have no idea."
"Shhh," Faith said, pulling her in for a hug. "Buffy…."
"Please Faith," Buffy said. "I need your help."
"Are you," Faith began. "Sure about this?"
No, Buffy thought.
"Yes," she said.
"Then I'm here for you," Faith said. "No judgement okay."
"Thank you," Buffy said, as Faith wiped Buffy's tears
away.
"Wanna hear a secret?" Faith said. Buffy nodded.
"I'd do it for free," Faith said. "That man is hot."
"Shut up," Buffy said, trying not to laugh.
"Let's go," Faith said, locking her arm with Buffy.
The women settled onto opposite sides of the ridiculously large conference table.
"So," Buffy began. "How does this work?"
"Well," Fred said. "We'd need to draw up a legal contract.
I've established a framework."
And with that Fred pushed a small binder across the table.
Faith snapped it up and began reading it under her breath.
"May I have a moment with my client?" Faith said, taking Buffy by the elbow.
"Of course," Fred said. "Take your time."
"What is it?" Buffy said, as Faith led her to a corner.
"Two million dollars?" Faith said. "That's kind of low."
"Faith," Buffy hissed. "I'm not haggling like….."
Like some common whore, Buffy thought. But that's exactly what you are, her brain hissed.
"B," Faith said, "you're a total fox. I'm your lawyer. I got this."
Buffy shook her head in disbelief, exhaled heavily, then followed Faith back to the table. Fred looked at them inquisitively.
"Two million dollars is…." Faith said, as Buffy looked away, squirming uncomfortably. "Insulting."
Oh god, Buffy thought. I could die.
"I see," Fred said as he phone pinged. "Would you excuse me one second?"
Fred pulled out her phone and texted something. In a moment, her phone 'pinged' back instantly.
"Oh," Fred said.
"What does that mean?" Faith raised an eyebrow.
The door opened behind them. And in walked Xander
Harris with a smug, confident smile on his face.
"Hello Buffy," he said.
Buffy's eyes widened in shock, then hardened.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed.
"Xander," Fred interrupted, looking angrily at him, then giving Buffy an apologetic look. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just in the neighbourhood," Xander smirked, planting a chaste, affectionate kiss on Fred's cheek.
Oh this is priceless.
"Yeah," Buffy said, shooting a withering look at Xander. "Right. You just happened to be in the neighbourhood. Sunnydale, out in the middle of nowhere."
Buffy looked at Faith as if to say, 'Can you believe this guy?' But Faith was a little distracted, giving Xander a flirtatious smile. Buffy incensed by her friend's act, gave her a sharp elbow in the side, making Faith wince.
"Focus," Buffy whispered, gritting her teeth.
"He's fine B," Faith whispered back. "I'd do him for a six pack and a hearty handshake."
"I really was just passing by Buffy," Xander said earnestly, trying to catch her eye. "I wasn't trying to…."
"To rub it in?" Buffy said bitterly. "Of course not. You're way too classy for that."
"Would you like me to?" Xander said, dropping his voice a little. "Rub it in, I mean."
Buffy saw the gleam in his eye and knew exactly what he was thinking. And then Buffy was thinking about it too, and he knew she was thinking about it. And it was sending a
hateful shiver down her spine.
You're disgusting, her eyes told him.
"Can we get back to the business at hand?" Fred interjected, giving Xander a look which said, get out please. A look that Xander pointedly ignored.
"So where were we?" Xander said.
"Two million is a bit low," Faith said.
"Is it?" Xander smiled. "Did you have a number in mind?"
"Do you?" Faith proposed.
Xander stroked his chin.
"Six point nine million," he said. Buffy and Fred furried their brows as Faith coughed to avoid laughing.
You're a bad bad boy, Faith thought.
"How about an even 10?" Faith suggested.
"Done," Xander said. "But for the entire weekend."
Buffy blanched. The entire weekend? She didn't know how to feel about that. But ten million dollars. It was more money than she could imagine. More money than they would know what to do with. Will, she thought again. Just the thought of what she was doing was driving a nail of guilt deep down inside her.
"Shall we move on to some other stuff?" Fred said, assuming the terms were agreed upon. "We have to define certain things."
Faith looked at Buffy who lowered her eyes in assent.
"Like what?" Faith asked.
"For example," Fred began delicately, addressing Buffy. "When would you consider intercourse to be had?"
"Anal," Faith said, examining her nails. "Wait did I say that out loud?"
"I think you should leave Xander," Fred said, as Buffy looked away uncomfortably. "I can reach you by phone if I need anything."
Fred gave Xander a look which dared him to contradict her, after which he held up his hands and got up from the table.
"Excuse me ladies," he said, adjusting his five thousand dollar tie.
Fred watched the door close, then sighed.
"Buffy?" Fred continued. "Are you okay to go on?"
Buffy nodded.
"So as I was saying," Fred continued, in a small voice.
"When do you consider intercourse to have taken place?"
"Why is that important?" Buffy said. "Everyone knows what…it means."
"Just so both parties agree on what exactly they're agreeing to," Fred explained gently. Buffy opened her mouth to respond, then just gaped at Fred, looking lost.
"It's okay B," Faith said, rubbing her shoulder. "It's just us here."
"Sex," Buffy said, dropping her voice, her cheeks burning with shame. "It's like…..you know…"
"Sex," she finished tamely.
Fred gave Buffy a nod, then picked up her phone, exchanging a few more texts with Xander.
"I think we can agree upon," Fred said finally, looking back at them. It looked as if it was causing her pain to say the words. "Intercourse is only said to have taken place when both parties have…..engaged in the normal act of heterosexual intercourse, which by its very nature can potentially result in the contraception of a child."
Buffy found herself aghast. She knew what she would be doing of course, but still. The bluntness of the words, coupled with the matter of fact tone of the voice shocked her. Faith saw Buffy's discomfort and touched her arm.
"Maybe we should take a break," Faith said, giving Fred a
sideways look.
Fred and Faith shared an understanding look. Fred nodded, then left the conference room without making a sound.
When they reconvened a half hour later, Buffy had calmed down somewhat, though still a bit dazed. Faith looked grim and Fred was officially beginning to hate her life.
"So," Fred began. "What I meant to say was….we would define intercourse as the act between a man and a woman that could…."
And Fred let the word hang in the air, for emphasis. Buffy looked wild eyed again, but Faith touched her hand and calmed her down.
"Could result in a child," Fred finished. "It's legally defined as such just to let both parties know we're talking about the same act. The only act that could possibly conceive a child."
Buffy's breathing became faster again, as the possibility of that terrified her mind.
"But it won't," Faith said, determinedly, her eyes daring Fred to contradict her.
"Definitely not," Fred said, nodding her head. "I assure you…."
"I'm going to need that in writing," Faith said.
"It already is," Fred said, marking a section in the contract and drawing Faith's attention to it.
"What?" Buffy said, looking down at the legalese and feeling utterly lost.
"Condoms," Faith explained quietly. "And birth control. It's….a legal requirement."
No love without the glove, Faith quipped mentally. God I'm such a bitch.
"Oh," Buffy said, looking around, then retreating to within herself. "Okay."
"But," Fred began, prompting a warning look from Faith that said 'tread lightly'. "If….something was…conceived as a result of….."
"Relations," Fred gulped.
Buffy found herself growing ill at the very thought.
Fred continued, her demeanour slightly uncomfortable.
"There's a clause within this document that would absolve my client of any legal or monetary…"
"Wait a goddamn minute," Faith interjected heatedly. "She gets pregnant and he bears no responsibility?"
Faith voicing that thought seemed to rouse Buffy from her trance like status.
"I am not going to get pregnant," Buffy hissed, shutting her eyes to block out the horror of the thought.
"Of course not," Faith soothed. "I'm just saying B….."
"It is not going to happen Faith," Buffy said, through gritted teeth.
"Buffy," Faith said, shaking her head. "Listen to me…."
"Look," Fred said. "If you sign this…."
"In any….situation," Fred said pointedly, making air-quotes to avoid using the A word. "You get to decide, of course. The advantage to you is that my client would have no legal rights to pursue you in the future. He is waiving his rights in perpetuity. In exchange for you waiving his fiduciary responsibility towards any offspring."
"In English please," Buffy said, rubbing her head to soothe the oncoming headache.
"If you have a kid," Faith said. "He has no rights. At all. You never have to see him again. But you don't get any money from him either."
"Yeah," Buffy gave a hollow, bitter laugh. "Because I'm just dying to have his kid."
"And the money?" Faith asked quietly.
"The moment she signs the contract," Fred said. "All she has to do is sign. The money will be deposited into an account of her choosing today."
Fred got another message on her phone. And another. And another.
"One last thing," Fred said nervously, as she pulled out her pad and began writing. And writing. And writing. Finally, she tossed the pad across the table and Faith snapped it up. Faith looked at the page sharply, then raised a brow at the brunette.
"These are the….ummm….activities," Fred said, blushing profusely as Buffy looked confused.
"That you and my client would be…..engaging in…..during the course of the evening in question."
What? Buffy blinked. Activities? What was she….
And then it hit Buffy with all the force of a ten ton truck. Activities Buffy thought. Oh god. Of course he would want to do…activities
He made a list, Buffy thought, screwing up her face. The sick son of a bitch. He made a list. What kind of man….
"Buffy," Faith said, looking up and down the list. "You wanna..."
"No," Buffy said, standing as if she was burnt, and then walking to the corner and turning her face away. "Just….handle it Faith. God."
"Well," Faith said, looking the list up and down. "Number two is out. Good luck hitting number 5. Six is a no fly area.
Seven? Yeah, dream on. And number 9 is definitely…"
"Faith," Buffy growled. "Do you mind."
"Sorry B," Faith said apologetically, then continued to read the list in her mind.
"I'm sorry," Fred said, delicately. "I may have misstated my position."
"Excuse me?" Faith said, her voice sharp now, as she glanced at Buffy, who had suddenly gone very still.
"My client," Fred said, pointing to the notepad, trying to retain her composure. "Wasn't asking…he was…."
"What?" Buffy whispered.
Buffy just knew things were about to get worse. Much
much worse.
"He was…..informing," Fred managed to say. "Informing you…that if you sign this document….you would be consenting to participating in these activities during the course of the evening."
Faith's jaw dropped. Buffy looked as if she'd been hit by a grenade. No-one spoke.
"Let's go B," Faith said finally, rising and then taking Buffy by the arm. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you go through with….this."
"Wait," Fred said, her voice tiny and small. "You can still say no."
"What?" Buffy croaked.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Faith challenged Fred.
"Paragraph eight. Clause seven. Before each….act….my client would need to obtain verbal consent."
"You would have to say yes," Fred explained to Buffy.
"And how the hell are we going to enforce that?" Faith
said, her eyes full of fire.
"We would record the audio of the…..proceedings," Fred said. "No video. Let me make that clear."
"What?" Buffy said horrified. "No. Absolutely not."
"No-one would ever hear it," Fred promised. "It goes to a private arbiter who would sign a non-disclosure agreement. And it would only be heard in case of a legal action. Otherwise it never sees the light of day."
"But what if…." Buffy said frantically, her mind racing with a million thoughts. "What if someone got their hands on this tape?"
"It would be in my client's best interest to keep that from happening," Fred said. "The damage to his reputation alone would costs millions of dollars. Plus he would open himself up from a ten figure lawsuit from you. Believe me, the tape stays with a private neutral arbiter."
"Faith?" Buffy asked. Faith took her arm, then dragged her to the corner.
"Are you sure about this?" Faith asked.
"I don't have a choice," Buffy said miserably.
"It's the best we can do," Faith said, taking a deep breath.
"At least this way you're protected. And you get to stay in control."
Sort of, Faith thought.
Buffy nodded, as if giving herself a mental talk. Faith saw a determined look cross her friend's face. Buffy walked across the room, picked up the pen and with a shaky hand, began signing the papers. Fred turned away, giving Buffy some privacy noting Buffy's heavy breath. Fred heard the papers rustle as Faith pointed out where Buffy needed to sign. And then Fred heard Buffy walk out of the room, never once looking back.
"I need a drink," Faith said. "I hate my life sometimes."
"Me too," Fred replied quietly. "I'm buying."
Buffy shut the door to her house behind her. The lights were off. The house seemed empty.
"Will?" she whispered, looking around. He still wasn't home. Buffy let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding. She felt relief for a moment, that she didn't have to face him. Then the guilt hit her in spasms and
waves. Crushing overwhelming guilt.
I lied to him, Buffy thought. I told him he said yes. And today…
"I had no choice," she whispered to herself, trying to make herself believe it. Do I really believe that? Buffy didn't know what she believed anymore. All she knew is that she couldn't lose their house. Her mother's museum. She didn't want to lose the life they'd built together.
He'll understand, Buffy thought. He knows it's just….
The sound of her cellphone interrupted her thoughts.
"Hello," Buffy said hesitantly.
"Ms Summers?" an elegantly clipped voice said. "Buffy
Summers?"
"Mrs Summers," Buffy corrected.
"My apologies," she heard the man say. Buffy placed his accent as British.
"My name is Wesley Pryce," the smooth, even voice said.
"I'm Mr Harris's private banker. I'm calling about the money."
"The….the money?" Buffy said.
"Indeed," Wesley said. "The 10 million dollars. I handle all
the high value accounts."
"Oh," Buffy said simply.
"May I have the account number?" Wesley said, after a short silence.
"Uhm," Buffy said, opening up her purse. "Sure. Could you hold on a minute?"
Buffy looked for the scrap of paper she'd stowed away. With unsteady hands she read out the 10 digits, an old joined account they'd opened when they'd first gotten married.
That'll give me a few days, Buffy thought. To break the news to William. To make him understand. Buffy felt another spasm of guilt and shock, as the enormity of what she had done, no what she was about to do, began to dawn on her.
But she knew it was too late. She'd already signed the papers and that posh British voice was telling her the money had been transferred and that she would be receiving a call from her bank to confirm the details very shortly.
"Congratulations Mrs Summers," Wesley said.
"T…Thank you," Buffy managed to say, before hanging up the phone.
A few minutes later, Buffy received a confirmation call from one very perplexed, but solicitious Bank manager in Sunnydale, confirming the deposit made in her account and congratulating her and her husband profusely. Buffy barely heard his voice, lost as she was in her own head. He was saying something about investment avenues and how to avoid paying taxes on her sudden windfall.
"I can't do this right now," Buffy said, sitting down on her sofa, rubbing her temples. "I….I'll call you okay."
"Very good Mrs Summers," she heard as she disconnected the call.
That evening, Buffy logged on to her bank's website and into her account. And there it was. 10,000,000 dollars. She stared at the screen blankly. She felt not an ounce of joy, just an empty heavy feeling.
"Lo?" she heard him say. "Buffy?"
Buffy quickly shut off her laptop and slammed the screen shut, trying to keep from looking too guilty. And then
William was poking his head into the kitchen door.
"Hey," he said simply.
"Hi," she said, giving him a comforting smile.
"No luck," William said.
"That's okay," Buffy said softly. "It's only a matter of time."
"Yeah," William said, dropping his gaze, walking to their table and placing his briefcase on the chair, before removing his coat and hat. "Just a matter of time."
God, Buffy thought. He sounded so….broken. Like it was killing him to let her down. To be less than what he could be. For in his mind, failing her. In a moment, Buffy flung herself to her feet and threw her arms around him. Buffy saw the surprise in his eyes and felt even worse than she did before. Since their big blowout fight, they hadn't so much as touched. They'd shared the same bed and the same house, but not intimacy. Only then did Buffy realize how much she'd missed his touch.
"I love you," she said, as she gently kissed him. "Tell me you love me."
"You know I do," he said, as she led him upstairs and into their bedroom.
Later, as they lay in bed, side by side, William kissed her forehead.
"Thank you," he said.
"For what?" Buffy said, stroking his chest and rubbing her cheek against him.
"For believing in me," William said. "For believing in us."
And Buffy realized what he was trying to say.
Oh god, Buffy thought. I have to tell him.
Buffy opened her mouth, but didn't recognize the words
that left her mouth.
"You're welcome," she said, placing her head against his chest. William's lips curved up into a soft smile as Buffy stared at a fixed point on the wall, wondering what in the
world she was going to do.
A few days later….
Buffy was on a knife's edge. Faith had called, telling Buffy she'd received a call from Fred, saying she needed to get herself 'tested.'
"When?" Buffy said, glancing nervously at the upstairs bedroom. William was in his study, reading.
"I don't know," Faith said. "Soon. Fred said soon."
And Buffy knew she was running out of time to break the
news to William.
That evening….
"Would you hate me?" Buffy asked suddenly as she prepared dinner.
"Hmmm?" William said, looking up from his newspaper.
"If I took up the offer," Buffy said, her voice trembling a little. "Would you hate me?"
"I…." William said, his voice suddenly weary, his body tense. "I don't want to discuss it."
"We're just….talking," Buffy said, looking away so he wouldn't see the guilt in her eyes. "It doesn't mean anything."
"Then let's not," William said, his voice harsh.
"I've slept with other men," Buffy said quietly. "Doesn't
that bother you?"
Buffy wasn't looking, but she could tell her husband was gritting his teeth.
"That's," he breathed, trying to control his anger. "That's different."
"How?" Buffy said.
"You know how," William said. He hadn't raised his voice an inch, but Buffy could tell he was getting angry.
"I wouldn't hate you," Buffy said.
"What?" William frowned, taken off guard.
"If you were the one who…." Buffy began, then faltered. "I wouldn't hate you William."
"No?" he said, disbelievingly.
"I'd be furious," Buffy admitted. "But I wouldn't hate you."
Her eyes asked him the question. He looked down at his plate.
"Be honest with me," she said. "Please."
"I don't know Buffy," he said, slamming his fist on the table. "Goddamnit, I don't know."
Her lips trembled.
"Then I guess you don't really love me," she said, turning away to hide the shame she felt at saying that. She knew she wasn't being fair.
"Not the way I love you."
And with that she marched up the stairs. He stayed down in the kitchen for a long time and when he finally came upstairs Buffy could see he was wretched with pain.
"Don't say that," he pleaded. "Don't say I don't love you like…. You know that's not true."
"I thought I did," Buffy said, wiping away a tear, turning to her side. "I thought I was more than just a body to keep you warm at night. I guess I was wrong."
"You know you are," he said, coming up behind her and gently touching her shoulder. "You're more than that Buffy. I love your heart. I love your soul."
"Then prove it," she said.
"How?" he asked.
Buffy steeled herself. "By letting me go."
Buffy felt his hand recoil from her touch as if she'd burned him.
"Let you go?" he whispered.
"Only for one night," she said, pleading. "And then we'll be free. Of everything. Just you and me. For the rest of our
lives."
William looked at her for the longest time. Buffy could see he was being torn apart inside. Buffy saw the turmoil in his eyes and felt guilty that she was lying to him that it was for one night only. I'll tell him the whole truth later, she reasoned.
"It's not my heart," Buffy said, touching his cheek. "Not my soul. You'll always have those."
Buffy knew William couldn't say the words. He could never say the words. So with the slightest, most imperceptible of nods, William finally gave in.
For the next few days, Buffy found her nerves on a knife's edge. Every ring of the doorbell, every call and message on her phone, every e-mail would jangle her nerves.
Faith accompanied Buffy to the hospital for her battery of tests, then collected the reports and sent them across to Fred. Buffy waited, and waited, and waited some more. March, turned into mid-April which turned into May. Meanwhile, Buffy quietly took care of all of the bills. They barely made conversation anymore, slept in the same bed but never touched. The whole affair hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles. William continued to look for a job without much success.
Finally, in the third week of May, on Monday, Buffy received the call she was dreading.
"Buffy," Xander said simply. "How have you been?"
"Fine," Buffy said, determined to keep this conversation as
short and unpleasant as she could manage.
"Are you free this weekend?" Xander said.
She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Smug bastard, she thought.
"It depends," Buffy said coldly. "Am I contractually obligated to be?"
To her chagrin, Xander only chuckled.
"You certainly are," he grinned. "Unless of course, you've changed your mind. In which case, you're more than welcome to return the money. At fourteen percent interest? That's a couple of hundred thousand dollars?"
Buffy said nothing. She wanted to tell him to go to hell and that she was going to return the money, but she knew it was a childish fantasy.
"Buffy?" Xander repeated. "Are you free this weekend?"
Buffy knew Xander was enjoying his position of dominance over her. Savouring it.
"Yes," she said, trying not to scream obscenities at him.
"Good," Xander said. "I'll send the car on Friday. Bring your passport."
"Goodbye Xander," Buffy said, her finger poised over the disconnect button.
"And Buffy?" he said, forcing her to wait just one more moment.
"Yes?" she said, harshly.
"It's all I've been thinking about," he said, dropping his voice low. "Tell me you haven't."
Buffy didn't wait this time. She just hung up the phone, tossing it onto a the bed, then sat down on the side, wrapping her arms around herself. Only one thought kept going through her head. How was she going to tell her husband what he feared most was going to come to pass?
How am I going to break the news to Will?
Friday morning….
Buffy paced in the bathroom, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. She'd spent the past few days trying to bring up the topic, but her nerves just kept failing her. She just couldn't seem to get the words out.
And now Will was getting ready to leave for a promising interview. This was almost certainly her last chance. It's not like they'd been talking much anyway, other than a few perfunctory greetings.
Buffy took a deep breath and opened the door. He was gone. Buffy looked around and saw nothing. She heard his footsteps on the stairs.
"Will," Buffy called out as she ran to the top of the staircase. She looked down. He was at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at her.
"Yes luv?"
Buffy swallowed. I have to tell him, Buffy told herself. I have to tell him right now.
"I….." Buffy began.
He was looking at her. Softly. Hesitantly. Expectantly.
God, she thought. Tell him. Just tell him.
"I love you," she said.
A sweet smile broke out on his face, something that made her heart shrivel up.
"I love you too," he said.
Buffy tried to open her mouth, but found it impossible. And then he was walking to the door. The creak of the door shutting awoke her from her stupor. She bounded down the stairs and ran to the door, only to see him driving away.
Buffy grabbed her phone. Call him. Tell him to come home. But her finger refused to co-operate. It was then that Buffy realized that she'd never be able to tell him what she'd done. Never be able to say the words.
So how then? Buffy thought, miserably.
Buffy's cellphone rang. It was Faith.
"Change of plans B," Buffy heard. "The car is picking you up. Now."
"Now?" Buffy said bewildered. "But that wasn't…."
"It's complicated," Faith said. "But long story short. If you
aren't in that car you're in violation of the contract."
Buffy heard a knock on the door.
"I have to go," she said, hanging up the phone.
It was an extremely well-built man, immaculately turned out.
"Buffy?" he asked. She nodded.
"I'm Adam. Mr Harris's head of security. Are you ready to go?"
"I…."
"You don't need anything," Adam said, reassuringly. "Just
your passport."
Buffy took a deep breath.
"A few minutes please," she said.
Adam nodded, then turned around and shut the door. Buffy looked around. Her eyes fell on something on the drawing table. She snatched it up then went upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned, clutching just her passport. Buffy paused to examine her reflection in the mirror just near the door. Her beautiful hair looked dirty yellow and stringy, her eyes were red and her face was puffy. She looked awful.
Good, Buffy thought bitterly. I hope the bastard isn't too disappointed with what he's getting for his money.
Buffy walked out the door as Adam opened the limo door for her. Buffy took one last look at the house, then the cellphone in her hand, which displayed the name 'William.'
"I'm sorry William," Buffy whispered. Then she turned off the phone, placed it in the purse and got into the car.
Buffy was taken to the airport and chaperoned through until she reached a hangar. The door to the airplane was open. Buffy looked around. It was just her and Adam. She looked at him, questioningly.
"Mr Harris is abroad," Adam said, delicately guiding her to the steps. "You'll be flying to him."
Buffy nodded, shrugging her shoulders, climbing into the plane. She looked around. Expensive looking leather seats surrounded by a home theatre and a bar that was stocked to the brim. A white velvet carpet covered every inch of the floor.
"Please," Adam said, gesturing for her to sit. Buffy did, looking out the window as the plane taxied out and flew into the sky. She kept awake for as long as she could before, she let herself rest her eyes. Her last waking thought was of her husband.
Buffy awoke mid-descent, momentarily discombobulated. Daylight was fading. As soon as the plane landed, she was bundled into a luxurious car and taken to a hotel. Buffy couldn't help but notice the beautiful surroundings—the lush fields, dense forests and a noticeable lack of pale faces—if she'd have to guess, she'd say she was on some sort of island.
At the hotel, she was escorted to a private elevator and taken up to the suite on the topmost floor, where a woman was waiting for her.
"Ms Buffy," said the beautiful exotic looking woman. "I am Maya."
"Hi," Buffy said, for the first time, regretting the lack of
effort she'd put into her appearance lately. Compared to this creature, Buffy felt she looked like a homeless person.
"I'm the valet for this private suite," Maya said, smiling at her. "I'm at your service, always."
"Thank you," Buffy said. "It's…..very nice."
Buffy knew she was understating things. The suite was gorgeous. Like something out of one of her design books. Room after room after room with furniture that looked like it had been designed for French royalty. But honestly, she couldn't bring herself to care.
"You have a salon appointment at 7," Maya said. "That gives you a few hours to sleep of the jet lag. Then dinner at 9."
"Salon appointment?" Buffy echoed, flopping down on the bed.
"Mr Harris was very specific for tonight's schedule," Maya nodded.
Buffy thought of refusing, but what would be gained by that? Besides, she didn't want to do anything that would violate the terms of the agreement. She was, despite Faith's and Fred's reassurances, fearful that Xander would somehow find a way to screw her out of her money.
No pun intended B, Buffy heard Faith's husky voice quip.
Get out of my head Faith, Buffy thought, massaging her temples.
"Okay," Buffy said.
"There's a telephone here if you need anything," Maya gestured. "I'm number 9."
"Can I dial out?" Buffy asked.
"Just dial 10 and the number," Maya said. "Is there anything you need?"
Buffy shook her head.
"I'll see you at 7," Maya said.
Buffy picked up the phone and carefully dialed a number.
At 10 minutes to 7, Buffy was gently roused from her bed.
Maya was waiting with a tray of fruit, black coffee and toasted bread. Buffy ate only sparingly before being directed to one of the smaller rooms in the suite and guided into a long hot bath, after which about half a dozen women were waiting for her. Buffy was guided into a bathrobe and a chair, various cold creams were applied to her face and cucumbers placed on her eyes.
Her dirty yellow hair was washed again and again and again until it shone like spun gold. Her legs were waxed until they were smooth then rubbed and oiled until they shone with a healthy glow. Her face was scrubbed until it was raw and pink and clean.
Buffy was hustled in front of a vanity mirror where her hair
was carefully curled and styled and her face was painstakingly made up. Then, before she knew it, she was being made to slip into a dress.
Buffy looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the uncomfortably tight silver dress. It showed an ungodly amount of golden leg and thigh, ending an inch below her panties.
Not to mention it was backless, exposing her skin to the cool air-conditioned air and giving her goosebumps. And the shoes she'd been provided with were a pair of six-inch prada pumps. Something she'd have once loved to own, but that were putting a serious hurt on her legs and back.
You look beautiful luv, she could almost hear William whisper into her ear. His voice was tinged with sorrow. It sent a dagger through her heart, knowing that this was for someone else.
Buffy knew she had never looked more gorgeous. Usually, she'd be proud, but for once, Buffy hated what she saw. Her beauty made her desirable to Xander. But he didn't cherish her. Buffy made her face into an impassive mask. That's how it's going to be then, she vowed. Just a cold, impassive mask. No emotion. Just cold, unfeeling sex.
"Buffy," she heard him say. Her skin crawled at the sound of his voice.
"Xander," she said, draining her voice of any emotion.
She felt him walk up behind her. And then his reflection was next to hers.
"You look…" he said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Sensational."
"Thank you," she said insincerely, glancing at him. He was in an immaculately tailored suit that showed off his muscular physique. Buffy knew he'd dressed up to try to impress her and she made a point of not returning the compliment, knowing it would sting his considerable ego.
But he didn't even seem to notice. Buffy saw his eyes languidly run down her back, enjoying the skin on display. Buffy took in a quick breath when she felt his fingers on the small of her lower back.
"Beautiful," Xander whispered, his thumb and forefinger stroked the butter soft, creamy skin then massaged it experimentally, glancing up at Buffy's face. It was impassive. Not a spot of emotion.
"Should I go undress?" she asked monotonously.
Buffy saw Xander's eyes flicker with anger as he understood her plan. She was giving him her body and nothing else. Not one ounce of what made her her. The next moment Xander was cool again, but Buffy took immense satisfaction from his anger.
"You've got to find a more creative way to think about this," Xander smiled, gently running his hand down to her waist, then squeezing it possessively. "I know I have."
I'm sure you have, Buffy thought savagely. Bastard.
"Shall we?" Xander asked.
Buffy nodded, and Xander guided her into the private elevator.
When the door opened Buffy was in a beautifully decorated ballroom, filled with opulently dressed couples slowly waltzing to classical music. Ordinarily, Buffy would have loved to join in, but not today. Yet she couldn't refuse when
Xander escorted her to the floor. Nor could she chide him
when he pulled her intimately close.
"They're all watching you," Xander said, his hands running
down her back.
Buffy didn't have to be told. She knew most if not all of the eyes in the room were trained on them. She could feel the adoring, lustful gazes of the men and the jealous, wistful glances from the women. Some wishing perhaps that they were in her place. Buffy had to keep in a bitter laugh. If they only knew.
"How does that make you feel?"
Buffy ignored his question and looked away.
"I love it," Xander said blithely continuing their conversation. Watching their faces when they see something they can't have. Their jealousy, envy and greed laid bare. Definitely some of the best sins."
Buffy felt anger when she realized what Xander was doing. He was showing her off. Like some prize toy. What compounded her fury was her inability to do anything about it.
"Do you have a favourite sin Buffy?" Xander asked. Buffy was spared a reply by the song ending. The couples broke apart, politely applauding the band and returning to their tables.
Xander followed suit, guiding Buffy to a private candle-lit booth. Buffy sat in silence as the waiters laid out several plates of exotic foods, then opened an expensive bottle of champagne, content to roll her fingers over her glass stem as Xander described the fine vintage.
"It's not going to work," Buffy said, after the waiter had poured her a glass. "All this. It's not going to make me forget."
"This?" Xander queried, sipping his drink.
"We both know what this is," Buffy said.
"Foreplay?" Xander smirked. Buffy flinched.
"Pretending," she said. "That this is something it isn't."
"You're pretending too Buffy," Xander said.
"What the hell does that mean?" Buffy narrowed her eyes at him.
Xander smiled. "And you never told me what your favourite sin is?"
"Pride," Buffy said snarkily. "Because it goeth before the fall."
"I'd bet," Xander said. "I can change your mind."
"Oh?" Buffy challenged. "Is that right?"
Xander took a moment to consider his answer.
"My lucky silver dollar," Xander said, removing a large coin from his pants, then showed it to Buffy.
"Heads is Pride," Xander said. "If you win, you go upstairs. Alone. I stay down here for the rest of the evening."
Buffy blinked. Alone? Was this a trick?
"Deal?" he asked, not waiting for her answer by tossing the coin high in the air.
Buffy was hypnotized by the coin's revolutions. She saw Xander pluck it out of thin air. Buffy knew she had nothing to lose. She nodded. Xander opened his hand and showed it to her. Buffy looked away, the hope squashed inside of her.
Buffy closed her eyes. She could still see the soft smile on William's face when she told him she loved him.
No, she thought. I'm not going to go there. I'm not going to think about Will.
"We go upstairs then," Xander said, sliding over to her side. Buffy felt his lips at her ear, and his fingers stroking her thigh. "And indulge in my favourite sin."
Lust, Buffy thought, closing her eyes.
