Title: Two Weeks With William
Author: Edith Campbell
Section: 8
Relationship: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: Alas, they all belong to the mighty Joss, except for
the ones I made up to use in Spike's memories (ie. his sister).
Those are mine. :)
Distribution: I don't mind, but please let me know where it's being
distributed. :)
Rating: PG 15 for language
Spoilers: Up to 'The Gift' Please note that Buffy is back. How?
Use your imagination. :) Major 'Fool For Love' spoilers. Oh, and
in this chapter and the next one (especially), pretty much the whole
entire series is game.
Feedback: Oh please! Yesterdays_Child4@y... Thank you for all the
lovely comments last time. :) You're all too nice!!
Summary: While fighting a pack of vampires with Buffy, Spike gets
knocked unconscious. When he wakes up, Buffy is presented with a
slight problem: Spike thinks its 1880. In order to repay Spike for
attempting to save Dawn, Buffy brings him to Giles, who determines
that he is suffering from a temporary amnesia. Will the gang be able
to accept William? What will happen when Spike comes 'back'?
Dedication: Blaine. All the sweetness is for you.
**********************************************************************
Buffy Summers, one of the world's best Slayers, was about to be offed
for a third time. She had already faced death twice, once to water
and once to a hell-bitch (as Spike had dubbed her) bent on getting
home, but this time, she thought it would be final. This time, she
was forced to deal with something that had plagued womankind for
centuries.
A corset.
"No way!" she cried, backing up against the wall of her bedroom and
waving her arms frantically at Anya, who was rapidly advancing with
the offending garment, "There's no way I'm putting that on!"
"You have to," Willow argued, from her seat on the bed. She, Tara,
and Anya had already changed into their Victorian style dresses-
complete with bustles and corsets- and were impatiently waiting for
the Slayer to put on hers. "The dress won't fit without it. And
Anya got these off of E-Bay. They're authentic."
"And they were expensive," the ex-demon nodded, waving the awful
whale-boned contraption for emphasis.
Buffy titled up her chin and smacked into the wall behind her. Her
bustle collapsed upon impact, causing her to temporarily lose her
footing. When she'd regained it, she crossed her arms over her
chemise and gave her three determined friends her best Slayer look.
"No."
"Buffy-" Willow started.
"No."
It was Anya's turn to try. "17 inch waists were fashionable. Trust
me, I was there. William would find it attra-"
"Spike never cared if I had a 17 inch waist," she retorted, "And no!"
"Buffy, the dress w-won't fit," quiet Tara repeated, earning a smile
from Willow.
"NO!!!" This was empathic, and was accompanied by a foot stomp.
"Willow," Anya pleaded, turning to look at the witch. Nodding in
agreement with the ex-demon, Willow began to chant and a moment
later, Buffy was held in the middle of the room by magic.
"That's so cheating, Wils!" she cried, using all her Slayer strength
to fight the barrier. It didn't budge, and soon Anya and the corset
were upon her.
And soon, the Slayer couldn't breath.
"This... isn't... worth... it," she gasped, struggling with her
dress. That, she had to admit, was quite pretty. It was an
attractive light blue, with a white, lacey bodice. She softly
slipped it on, struggling awkwardly all the while, and then turned so
the other girls could fight the small hooks running up the back.
"You get used to it in a minute," Anya assured, before smiling
lewdly, "And they're fun to take off. This one time, Xander and I-"
"If Spike finds out we played dress up for him, his ego is going to
like... explode, and he's going to be sooo hard to live with," Buffy
muttered, giving Anya a pointed look.
Willow shrugged. "If he remembers this at all. Which he probably
won't. Shall we go down? Kinda looking forward to seeing Xander
done up all Victorian-y."
Taking one last glance in her mirror, Buffy smoothed out the fabric
of her dress and nodded. It was time to face the music.
**
William was fighting off one hell of a headache, but he was battling
with it valiantly. He had hidden himself off in the very corner of
the Summers' living room, and was suspiciously watching the young
brown haired man fiddle with one of Buffy's newfangled 'music' (and
he used the term loosely) machines. He was shy to associate with
him, as he felt too many bloody things looking at him. William
didn't mind him, but something inside of him- something he couldn't
quite place- found him rather annoying, in a fond way, and he had an
overwhelming urge to hassle him mercilessly.
That, on top of the dream he had last night, was proving to be a bit
much. He couldn't remember it as clearly as the others, but he
recalled every emotion he'd felt in it perfectly. Every emotion
SPIKE had felt in it, he stressed mentally, shaking his head. Such
an intense desperation. His dark princess had left him for a soddin'
chaos demon. He didn't know what in the hell those were, but
really... how dare she! Spike had cared for her- he had LOVED her-
for a century, and... William found himself quaking with anger and
hurt. He shook his head slowly and ran a hand through his hair,
which was now rather unruly, as he had been repeating the gesture all
night.
He returned his gaze to the brunette- Xander, he remembered- and
sighed. Spike had kidnapped Xander and Willow after Dru's little
triste, he recalled. But his heart hadn't been in it. His heart had
been broken.
Xander looked up from the stereo and caught William scowling at him.
It put him off a little bit, as Spike's alter ego seemed to be quite
quiet and nice. The scowl reminded him far too much of the bleached
wonder.
"So..." Xander said, straigtening and shoving his hands in his
pockets awkwardly. He didn't quite know what to say Spike. Somehow,
teasing didn't seem appropriate. However, when Spike came back... Xander smiled
mercilessly.
There was something about William that reminded Xander of he and
Willow, in high school. Xander was willing to bet a lot of money
that he hadn't ranked high on the popularity list back home.
"Looking forward to seeing our ladies done up all nice?"
William nodded enthusiastically and smiled. "Buffy especially.
She's very pretty, isn't she?"
Ahhh, thought Xander, so William had been bitten by the Buffy bug
too. Outloud, he replied, "Yeah, she is. But I can't wait to see
Anya."
"She is lovely, too," William assured, "A-are Willow and Tara..."
"They're together, yeah," Xander replied, warily watching William.
He knew Spike had no problem with that, but William was different.
William was old fashioned, and Xander was ready to defend his best
friend.
William was quiet for a moment, no doubt struggling with his
Victorian way of life. At last, just before Xander was about to jump
in and give it to him, he said, "They really are quite nice. And do
look most happy together. They definitely love each other. Can't
say that about everybody."
Xander relaxed visibly and nodded. "They are. And no you can't."
An awkward silence was impending, making both men nervous. They were
both about to attempt to end it, when the soft rustle of approacing
skirts did it for them. Xander took in a breath and let it out in
one low whistle, before moving to Anya's side.
William, for his part, gawked. He had to remind himself to shut his
mouth, as he was sure he looked like a bleedin' fool. He didn't have
the willpower to look away.
"Miss Summers," he breathed, forgetting to call her Buffy in his
astonishment, "You look absolutely... beautiful."
William was sure he'd never meant anything more. The blue dress
hugged her in all the right places and was a bit more revealing than
it should have been. It was causing William's thoughts to run off in
far too many scandalizing directions. She looked like an angel, he
thought, a bleedin' angel sent down just for him. He blinked a few
times, waiting for the vision to disappear.
All thoughts of Cecily (and he had to admit rather shamefully that
there hadn't been many lately) flew out of his head and hurried to
catch the next ship to England.
Under William's appraising stare, Buffy felt herself colour. She ran
her hands over her dress self-consciously, and wished with all her
might that she hadn't put on that damn corset. That had to be the
reason she was out of breath. It had nothing to do with Spike's
transformation. Nothing at all to do with how warm and gentle his
brown suit made him look, or how his hair was curled and thoroughly
tousled. And the look on his face... She imagined placing her hands
against his cheekbones and guiding it down for a kiss and then
she'd...
Buffy shook herself mentally. There was nothing about Spike that was
at all warm or gentle. He was hard and powerful and strong. But,
she argued, gazing still at William, so was he. He didn't look it,
in his suit, but she could sense it. The aura of power was still
there, it just wasn't something that William wore comfortably. And
the soft, loving look on William's face. She had seen that too, on
Spike. Years ago, she'd seen him gaze at Drusilla like that. Of
course, then it disgusted her, and it still riled her up a little
bit, but it was a look of tenderness all the same. Hell, she'd even
had it directed at her, on these very stairs the night she'd...
He was moving towards her now, advancing quickly. Unconsciously, she
glided down the stairs, trying not to trip on her dress. They met at
the base of them and stared at each other, slightly confused. The
warm feeling that had begun in the pit of Buffy's stomach was
threatening to consume her as she gazed up at him, seeing Spike and
William both.
And William... he loved her and it had him baffled. The fact that he
did love her didn't puzzle him at all. He hadn't thought of Cecily
since he'd arrived. But the WAY the love felt. It was old and it
was worn and he could have sworn he'd felt it before, for her.
"Buffy," he whispered, stepping closer. He wanted so badly to have
her verify it, that this feeling wasn't new.
"I-" she began, but then stopped as he placed his hand on her waist
and leaned in.
William- SPIKE- was going to kiss her! She blinked a few times and
waited for the disgust to set in. It never came. Infact, the
impending kiss didn't really bother her at all. For once in her
life, she decided not to question it. Instead, she shut her eyes and
waited.
"Ummm... not to interrupt your little moment here, but there's food.
Lots of good, plentiful food on the table, and I'm really starting to
lose my appetite."
Buffy's eyes flew open, and found William's face an inch away from
hers. She went cross-eyed looking at him, then regained her senses,
and leapt back so fast that she almost tripped on her petticoats.
Without looking back, she all but ran to the couch and sat by Xander
and Anya. William seemed to have the same idea, fleeing quickly to
his corner.
The silence that followed was embarrassing. Buffy was blushing
brightly, she could feel it. Desperately, she looked around, trying
to find something to say, while not looking at William. She settled
on Xander.
"Xander!" she cried, "Lovin' the Victorian you!"
Xander coloured slightly, tugging at his collar. His suit was
similar to William's, only black, and his vest wasn't buttoned up all
the way.
"Dawn sure didn't," he huffed, "Took one look at me and ran to
Janice's, laughing."
"Bugger it all, but that one does look like my Kitty," William said
quietly.
"His little sister," Buffy whispered, for the benefit of her confused
friends.
"You have a sister?" Willow asked, politely. In all truth, she was
very curious about Spike's past.
"Yes," he said, before smiling, "No brothers though, and I always
wanted one of those as a boy. Kitty is quite a few years younger
than me, you see."
"Different father?" the Slayer asked, snooping.
"No, same father. Father and Mum rather thought they were done when
they had me, being a son and all, but Mum did want a daughter, so..."
He trailed off and shrugged, shy with the attention. He desperately
wanted to find his poetry book and disappear.
Luck wasn't on his side, and the questions, now that the Scoobies had
been set off, were coming in rapid fire.
"Are you married?"
"Do you believe in demons? What would you do if you were say... a
vampire?"
"What's your house like?"
"Who are your friends?"
"Do you like money?"
"Ahn!"
William was taken aback and silenced. Bewildered, he watched them
watching him and cleared his throat. He thought he could deal with
those questions, but then the smiling blonde whose name he'd
forgotten dropped the bombshell.
"Are you a virgin?"
Four horrified Scoobies turned to face Anya, who merely shrugged and
looked to William for an answer. Buffy, who thought for sure
vampires couldn't blush, was instantly proven wrong. She gawked at
the vampire, who was beginning to resemble a tomato in colour, and
began to worry that embarrassment would cause him to combust, and as
a result, leave him as dust.
"Anya, you can't ask him that!" the blonde Slayer protested,
embarrassed suddenly for his sake. His blush spoke volumes, and she
didn't want him- didn't want Spike- to reveal anything that would
cause him grief later.
"He's right, Anya," Xander said, "But you can ask him a slightly
different question."
"I can?" she asked, looking crushed.
"Mmmhmm. William, my man, do you believe in premarital sex?"
This was all too much, really. He gazed at the room and squeaked
desperately, "Should we be speaking so frankly in front of the
ladies?"
"Ahh, nothing any of them haven't encountered."
William's eyes widened, and instantly went to Buffy, who was glaring
at Xander. Her curiousity got the better of her, however, and she
suddenly wanted to know too. Spike, after all, knew all about her
sex life, even Parker. She shuddered, and turned expectantly to him.
William shifted uncomfortably. Five pairs of eyes were fastened on
him and he was sure he'd never felt more awkward.
"I-I think... I think that..." Oh, bloody hell. "I think that it
should be with somebody you love. It... it should be... meaningful."
Buffy and her friends all gawked at each other, putting together
William's words and body language mentally. Each balked in surprise
when the truth hit them. Xander was the first to speak it outloud.
"Drusilla and Harmony."
Drusilla and Harmony. Buffy repeated it softly to herself, and shook
her head in shock. And then suddenly, something else occurred to
her. She was so dumbstruck that she almost missed the next statement.
"Assuming he didn't cheat on them of course."
William all but jumped out of the corner, saying loudly, "Spike most
certainly did not! He loved Dru more than... more than..." And then
the poet failed to find a word that described just how much he had.
He was too embarrassed to put two and two together, and realize that
he knew much too much about a man he'd never met, or that Buffy and
her friends were talking about them as one and the same.
"Oh God," she murmured, horrified still at her revelation, "I've
slept with more people in four years than Spike has in over a
hundred."
"Unless you count the Buffybot," Willow reassured her friend, leaning
over to pat her arm, "Then you're tied."
"Well," the Slayer harrumphed, leaning back into the cushions of the
couch.
Anxious suddenly to change the subject, Willow said, "These dresses
are very uncomfortable."
Tara complimented sweetly, "You look pretty. But I agree."
"Aren't they though? This is even worse than that one I wore for
Angel."
"Angel?" William asked, leaning forward. Memories of old dreams hit
him and he felt utterly repulsed at his mention.
"Buffy's first love," Xander explained, "Not too fond of that one."
"Neither am I, bloody poof that he is," William announced.
Buffy blinked and glanced at William, who didn't appear to notice his
slip up. She knew Spike was remembering, and wondered briefly how
much longer she'd have William around.
"Okay, sitting right here, you know? If you're going to do the Angel
bashing, at least do it when I'm not here. Maybe you missed the
memo, but I loved him. First true love and all that."
William turned to Buffy, surprised at the wave of jealousy that hit
him. Angel! Of all people. He remembered how much he had hurt
Spike, and was so overcome with bitterness that he had to sit down.
All thoughts of acting like the mature adult that he was hurried to
catch up with the ones of Cecily.
"Well, in England," he said, "there's a girl, Cecily. I plan on
asking her to marry me when I return home."
The envy hit Buffy so suddenly that it almost bowled her over. She
glared at William for a whole minute before she became too angry to
look at him anymore. Marry her, would he! Love HER, would he!
Well, she just didn't think so.
Fully annoyed at him and his presense, she stood up and yelled over
her shoulder, "I'm getting drinks!"
**
She made it all the way to the kitchen before throwing an all out
temper tantrum. Angrily, she stormed through the cupboards, locating
glasses. She slammed each of them onto the counter, smiling with
each hard thump. Then, in her frustration, she couldn't decide what
she wanted everybody to drink.
She knew what she wanted. She wanted that bourbon Spike had offered
her so long ago on that awful night he'd confessed his love. And she
wanted a lot of it.
Because she was jealous of a girl Spike had loved.
And, if that wasn't enough to make a girl want to drink herself
unconscious, then she wasn't sure what was.
"This isn't jealousy!" she yelled at the fridge, daring it to defy
her, "I'm just not used to him loving somebody who isn't me!"
Buffy wished she believed that. Cecily's photograph kept flashing
before her eyes. She was so pretty, the Slayer thought, all elegant
and ladylike. She could probably faint with the best of them.
Suddenly, the Slayer felt inadequate in her dress. It didn't look as
good on her as it would on Cecily, she was willing to bet.
"Stupid bitch," she grumbled uncharitably, deciding on Coke. She
poured it into the glasses too fast, and it spilled all over the
counter, angering her further.
And why had Spike kept her picture? Did he love her THAT much? To
keep it around for a hundred and twenty one years? How was she to
compete with that?
She sat down glumly at the table, and cradled her head in her hands.
She heard footsteps enter the kitchen and all but growled, "I'm fine,
Wils, go keep Tara company, okay?"
It was a male that cleared his throat awkwardly. And, since her
vampire radar was going crazy, she knew exactly who he was. She
didn't look up.
"May I sit down?" he asked, after a huge pause.
She nodded and kicked a chair out for him. She'd forgotten about the
delicate slippers she'd been wearing and winced.
William took it uncomfortably and cleared his throat again.
"Buffy?"
"What?" she grumbled, in a tone that didn't encourage him to
continue.
"I-I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that."
"Said what? Totally not bothered here!"
"I don't love Cecily anymore. I have no intentions of marrying her.
I... I did, you see. But they're gone now."
"Why? Didn't love her as much as you thought? Or were you just
fickle?" She was being mean and she knew it, but the fact that
Spike's old crushes could incite this jealous rage annoyed her beyond
belief.
"No," he said, shyly glancing at his lap, "It's because... Buffy,
it's because I found you."
He counted to forty five before daring to look up with hopeful eyes.
The Slayer was watching him, completely floored. That was good, he
supposed. She wasn't running away screaming. But then again, she
wasn't exactly declaring undying love and devotion either.
Buffy opened to speak, but was interrupted by a burst of loud,
classical music.
"The hell?"
William smiled, suddenly glad of a distraction. "Willow wanted to
play some music and Anya had some... something about E-bay, whatever
that is. They're going to dance."
"Oh my God, do you dance?" she asked, spinning to face him.
He noticed the excitement on her face and smiled. "Not very well,
I'm afraid."
"Oh."
His smile became a grin, and he stood up, offering her his
hand. "Shall we?"
She stood up too, Cecily forgotten. Then, smirking, she leaned into
William and, when he didn't pull away, slyly whispered, "You know you
want to dance."
**
"Here endeth the lesson. I just wonder if you'll like it as much as
she did-"
"NO! This is all- You're wrong." She hated him, she was sure she'd
never loathed anybody more in her whole entire life.
Spike grinned at her, pumped and obviously spoiling for a fight.
"Hey. You asked. Sorry if the answer isn't cuddly enough for you-"
"Get out of my sight, Spike. Now."
She'd used THAT voice. That deadly voice that was full of quiet
power. He wondered idly if she knew what that voice did to him, and
then decided he didn't care. He stepped in her direction, dizzy with
the need to be closer.
"Ooooh, did I scare you? You're the Slayer. Do something about
it. Hit me."
Hit him, jump him. It was all the same, and he wasn't finished.
"Come on. One good swing. You know you want to."
She wished he wasn't crowding her space, wished he wasn't cocking his
eyebrow at her, and wished more than anything else that he was
wrong.
"I mean it-"
"So do I. Give it to me good, Buffy. Do it."
She wasn't sure what she was meant to do suddenly. Spike was looking
at her with such thinly veiled lust that she was purely disgusted and
floored and struck dumb.
Overcome with desire for the petite blonde, he stepped forward and
clasped her arms with his hands and leaned down. He was drunk with
it all. The rehashing of his glory days, the old feeling of power,
and the pretty, brassed off Slayer with her deadly force and quasi
innosense left him absolutely weak with want. And he could sense her
disgust, sure, but he could also sense something else. Something
much more desireable.
"Spike!" she cried, stepping back but not completely away. "What the
hell are you doing?"
"Come on. I feel it, Slayer. You know you want to dance."
**
William stepped slightly away from Buffy, overcome with the memory.
It embarrassed him, what Spike felt. And it embarrassed him further,
because he felt exactly the same.
Horrified and disgusted with himself, he grabbed her hands and
murmured, "Let's go in there and dance then, love, if you're so sure
that I want to."
"No. Not in there. Not in front of them. In here, just you and me."
He looked at her as though she was crazy, and maybe she was. She was
beginning to think she was becoming a regular Drusilla. Surely, she
was asking for trouble.
And, surely she didn't care.
She was seeing Spike, and she couldn't stop. The images hit her
unbidden. Spike, telling her he knew she'd never love him at the
foot of the stairs. Spike, promising to protect Dawn. Spike,
stealing an RV to aid their escape. Spike, enduring torture for her
when he had nothing but her scorn. Spike, delivering flowers with an
unsigned card after her mother's death. Spike, always stubbornly
there. Spike, as who he used to be.
And how blind was she?
She all but jumped on him, almost knocking him over with the
surprised force of her kiss. He wobbled unsteadily before regaining
his footing, and kissing her right back. She was warm. He couldn't
remember the last time he'd felt such warmth, and he clutched at her
greedily. And then the obvious occurred to him. This kiss... the
feelings behind it were worn and tried, just as his were for her. He
didn't understand it and he didn't need to. It felt right, and
nothing had felt like that for a long time. He loved her and that
was all that mattered.
Abruptly, she pulled away, and took his hand. She knew she should
feel shy, but she couldn't bring herself to. This was Spike. He
would be there tomorrow, whether or not she wanted him to be. She
clasped his hand more tightly, and guided him out of the kitchen and
to the stairs.
It was time to dance.
Author: Edith Campbell
Section: 8
Relationship: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: Alas, they all belong to the mighty Joss, except for
the ones I made up to use in Spike's memories (ie. his sister).
Those are mine. :)
Distribution: I don't mind, but please let me know where it's being
distributed. :)
Rating: PG 15 for language
Spoilers: Up to 'The Gift' Please note that Buffy is back. How?
Use your imagination. :) Major 'Fool For Love' spoilers. Oh, and
in this chapter and the next one (especially), pretty much the whole
entire series is game.
Feedback: Oh please! Yesterdays_Child4@y... Thank you for all the
lovely comments last time. :) You're all too nice!!
Summary: While fighting a pack of vampires with Buffy, Spike gets
knocked unconscious. When he wakes up, Buffy is presented with a
slight problem: Spike thinks its 1880. In order to repay Spike for
attempting to save Dawn, Buffy brings him to Giles, who determines
that he is suffering from a temporary amnesia. Will the gang be able
to accept William? What will happen when Spike comes 'back'?
Dedication: Blaine. All the sweetness is for you.
**********************************************************************
Buffy Summers, one of the world's best Slayers, was about to be offed
for a third time. She had already faced death twice, once to water
and once to a hell-bitch (as Spike had dubbed her) bent on getting
home, but this time, she thought it would be final. This time, she
was forced to deal with something that had plagued womankind for
centuries.
A corset.
"No way!" she cried, backing up against the wall of her bedroom and
waving her arms frantically at Anya, who was rapidly advancing with
the offending garment, "There's no way I'm putting that on!"
"You have to," Willow argued, from her seat on the bed. She, Tara,
and Anya had already changed into their Victorian style dresses-
complete with bustles and corsets- and were impatiently waiting for
the Slayer to put on hers. "The dress won't fit without it. And
Anya got these off of E-Bay. They're authentic."
"And they were expensive," the ex-demon nodded, waving the awful
whale-boned contraption for emphasis.
Buffy titled up her chin and smacked into the wall behind her. Her
bustle collapsed upon impact, causing her to temporarily lose her
footing. When she'd regained it, she crossed her arms over her
chemise and gave her three determined friends her best Slayer look.
"No."
"Buffy-" Willow started.
"No."
It was Anya's turn to try. "17 inch waists were fashionable. Trust
me, I was there. William would find it attra-"
"Spike never cared if I had a 17 inch waist," she retorted, "And no!"
"Buffy, the dress w-won't fit," quiet Tara repeated, earning a smile
from Willow.
"NO!!!" This was empathic, and was accompanied by a foot stomp.
"Willow," Anya pleaded, turning to look at the witch. Nodding in
agreement with the ex-demon, Willow began to chant and a moment
later, Buffy was held in the middle of the room by magic.
"That's so cheating, Wils!" she cried, using all her Slayer strength
to fight the barrier. It didn't budge, and soon Anya and the corset
were upon her.
And soon, the Slayer couldn't breath.
"This... isn't... worth... it," she gasped, struggling with her
dress. That, she had to admit, was quite pretty. It was an
attractive light blue, with a white, lacey bodice. She softly
slipped it on, struggling awkwardly all the while, and then turned so
the other girls could fight the small hooks running up the back.
"You get used to it in a minute," Anya assured, before smiling
lewdly, "And they're fun to take off. This one time, Xander and I-"
"If Spike finds out we played dress up for him, his ego is going to
like... explode, and he's going to be sooo hard to live with," Buffy
muttered, giving Anya a pointed look.
Willow shrugged. "If he remembers this at all. Which he probably
won't. Shall we go down? Kinda looking forward to seeing Xander
done up all Victorian-y."
Taking one last glance in her mirror, Buffy smoothed out the fabric
of her dress and nodded. It was time to face the music.
**
William was fighting off one hell of a headache, but he was battling
with it valiantly. He had hidden himself off in the very corner of
the Summers' living room, and was suspiciously watching the young
brown haired man fiddle with one of Buffy's newfangled 'music' (and
he used the term loosely) machines. He was shy to associate with
him, as he felt too many bloody things looking at him. William
didn't mind him, but something inside of him- something he couldn't
quite place- found him rather annoying, in a fond way, and he had an
overwhelming urge to hassle him mercilessly.
That, on top of the dream he had last night, was proving to be a bit
much. He couldn't remember it as clearly as the others, but he
recalled every emotion he'd felt in it perfectly. Every emotion
SPIKE had felt in it, he stressed mentally, shaking his head. Such
an intense desperation. His dark princess had left him for a soddin'
chaos demon. He didn't know what in the hell those were, but
really... how dare she! Spike had cared for her- he had LOVED her-
for a century, and... William found himself quaking with anger and
hurt. He shook his head slowly and ran a hand through his hair,
which was now rather unruly, as he had been repeating the gesture all
night.
He returned his gaze to the brunette- Xander, he remembered- and
sighed. Spike had kidnapped Xander and Willow after Dru's little
triste, he recalled. But his heart hadn't been in it. His heart had
been broken.
Xander looked up from the stereo and caught William scowling at him.
It put him off a little bit, as Spike's alter ego seemed to be quite
quiet and nice. The scowl reminded him far too much of the bleached
wonder.
"So..." Xander said, straigtening and shoving his hands in his
pockets awkwardly. He didn't quite know what to say Spike. Somehow,
teasing didn't seem appropriate. However, when Spike came back... Xander smiled
mercilessly.
There was something about William that reminded Xander of he and
Willow, in high school. Xander was willing to bet a lot of money
that he hadn't ranked high on the popularity list back home.
"Looking forward to seeing our ladies done up all nice?"
William nodded enthusiastically and smiled. "Buffy especially.
She's very pretty, isn't she?"
Ahhh, thought Xander, so William had been bitten by the Buffy bug
too. Outloud, he replied, "Yeah, she is. But I can't wait to see
Anya."
"She is lovely, too," William assured, "A-are Willow and Tara..."
"They're together, yeah," Xander replied, warily watching William.
He knew Spike had no problem with that, but William was different.
William was old fashioned, and Xander was ready to defend his best
friend.
William was quiet for a moment, no doubt struggling with his
Victorian way of life. At last, just before Xander was about to jump
in and give it to him, he said, "They really are quite nice. And do
look most happy together. They definitely love each other. Can't
say that about everybody."
Xander relaxed visibly and nodded. "They are. And no you can't."
An awkward silence was impending, making both men nervous. They were
both about to attempt to end it, when the soft rustle of approacing
skirts did it for them. Xander took in a breath and let it out in
one low whistle, before moving to Anya's side.
William, for his part, gawked. He had to remind himself to shut his
mouth, as he was sure he looked like a bleedin' fool. He didn't have
the willpower to look away.
"Miss Summers," he breathed, forgetting to call her Buffy in his
astonishment, "You look absolutely... beautiful."
William was sure he'd never meant anything more. The blue dress
hugged her in all the right places and was a bit more revealing than
it should have been. It was causing William's thoughts to run off in
far too many scandalizing directions. She looked like an angel, he
thought, a bleedin' angel sent down just for him. He blinked a few
times, waiting for the vision to disappear.
All thoughts of Cecily (and he had to admit rather shamefully that
there hadn't been many lately) flew out of his head and hurried to
catch the next ship to England.
Under William's appraising stare, Buffy felt herself colour. She ran
her hands over her dress self-consciously, and wished with all her
might that she hadn't put on that damn corset. That had to be the
reason she was out of breath. It had nothing to do with Spike's
transformation. Nothing at all to do with how warm and gentle his
brown suit made him look, or how his hair was curled and thoroughly
tousled. And the look on his face... She imagined placing her hands
against his cheekbones and guiding it down for a kiss and then
she'd...
Buffy shook herself mentally. There was nothing about Spike that was
at all warm or gentle. He was hard and powerful and strong. But,
she argued, gazing still at William, so was he. He didn't look it,
in his suit, but she could sense it. The aura of power was still
there, it just wasn't something that William wore comfortably. And
the soft, loving look on William's face. She had seen that too, on
Spike. Years ago, she'd seen him gaze at Drusilla like that. Of
course, then it disgusted her, and it still riled her up a little
bit, but it was a look of tenderness all the same. Hell, she'd even
had it directed at her, on these very stairs the night she'd...
He was moving towards her now, advancing quickly. Unconsciously, she
glided down the stairs, trying not to trip on her dress. They met at
the base of them and stared at each other, slightly confused. The
warm feeling that had begun in the pit of Buffy's stomach was
threatening to consume her as she gazed up at him, seeing Spike and
William both.
And William... he loved her and it had him baffled. The fact that he
did love her didn't puzzle him at all. He hadn't thought of Cecily
since he'd arrived. But the WAY the love felt. It was old and it
was worn and he could have sworn he'd felt it before, for her.
"Buffy," he whispered, stepping closer. He wanted so badly to have
her verify it, that this feeling wasn't new.
"I-" she began, but then stopped as he placed his hand on her waist
and leaned in.
William- SPIKE- was going to kiss her! She blinked a few times and
waited for the disgust to set in. It never came. Infact, the
impending kiss didn't really bother her at all. For once in her
life, she decided not to question it. Instead, she shut her eyes and
waited.
"Ummm... not to interrupt your little moment here, but there's food.
Lots of good, plentiful food on the table, and I'm really starting to
lose my appetite."
Buffy's eyes flew open, and found William's face an inch away from
hers. She went cross-eyed looking at him, then regained her senses,
and leapt back so fast that she almost tripped on her petticoats.
Without looking back, she all but ran to the couch and sat by Xander
and Anya. William seemed to have the same idea, fleeing quickly to
his corner.
The silence that followed was embarrassing. Buffy was blushing
brightly, she could feel it. Desperately, she looked around, trying
to find something to say, while not looking at William. She settled
on Xander.
"Xander!" she cried, "Lovin' the Victorian you!"
Xander coloured slightly, tugging at his collar. His suit was
similar to William's, only black, and his vest wasn't buttoned up all
the way.
"Dawn sure didn't," he huffed, "Took one look at me and ran to
Janice's, laughing."
"Bugger it all, but that one does look like my Kitty," William said
quietly.
"His little sister," Buffy whispered, for the benefit of her confused
friends.
"You have a sister?" Willow asked, politely. In all truth, she was
very curious about Spike's past.
"Yes," he said, before smiling, "No brothers though, and I always
wanted one of those as a boy. Kitty is quite a few years younger
than me, you see."
"Different father?" the Slayer asked, snooping.
"No, same father. Father and Mum rather thought they were done when
they had me, being a son and all, but Mum did want a daughter, so..."
He trailed off and shrugged, shy with the attention. He desperately
wanted to find his poetry book and disappear.
Luck wasn't on his side, and the questions, now that the Scoobies had
been set off, were coming in rapid fire.
"Are you married?"
"Do you believe in demons? What would you do if you were say... a
vampire?"
"What's your house like?"
"Who are your friends?"
"Do you like money?"
"Ahn!"
William was taken aback and silenced. Bewildered, he watched them
watching him and cleared his throat. He thought he could deal with
those questions, but then the smiling blonde whose name he'd
forgotten dropped the bombshell.
"Are you a virgin?"
Four horrified Scoobies turned to face Anya, who merely shrugged and
looked to William for an answer. Buffy, who thought for sure
vampires couldn't blush, was instantly proven wrong. She gawked at
the vampire, who was beginning to resemble a tomato in colour, and
began to worry that embarrassment would cause him to combust, and as
a result, leave him as dust.
"Anya, you can't ask him that!" the blonde Slayer protested,
embarrassed suddenly for his sake. His blush spoke volumes, and she
didn't want him- didn't want Spike- to reveal anything that would
cause him grief later.
"He's right, Anya," Xander said, "But you can ask him a slightly
different question."
"I can?" she asked, looking crushed.
"Mmmhmm. William, my man, do you believe in premarital sex?"
This was all too much, really. He gazed at the room and squeaked
desperately, "Should we be speaking so frankly in front of the
ladies?"
"Ahh, nothing any of them haven't encountered."
William's eyes widened, and instantly went to Buffy, who was glaring
at Xander. Her curiousity got the better of her, however, and she
suddenly wanted to know too. Spike, after all, knew all about her
sex life, even Parker. She shuddered, and turned expectantly to him.
William shifted uncomfortably. Five pairs of eyes were fastened on
him and he was sure he'd never felt more awkward.
"I-I think... I think that..." Oh, bloody hell. "I think that it
should be with somebody you love. It... it should be... meaningful."
Buffy and her friends all gawked at each other, putting together
William's words and body language mentally. Each balked in surprise
when the truth hit them. Xander was the first to speak it outloud.
"Drusilla and Harmony."
Drusilla and Harmony. Buffy repeated it softly to herself, and shook
her head in shock. And then suddenly, something else occurred to
her. She was so dumbstruck that she almost missed the next statement.
"Assuming he didn't cheat on them of course."
William all but jumped out of the corner, saying loudly, "Spike most
certainly did not! He loved Dru more than... more than..." And then
the poet failed to find a word that described just how much he had.
He was too embarrassed to put two and two together, and realize that
he knew much too much about a man he'd never met, or that Buffy and
her friends were talking about them as one and the same.
"Oh God," she murmured, horrified still at her revelation, "I've
slept with more people in four years than Spike has in over a
hundred."
"Unless you count the Buffybot," Willow reassured her friend, leaning
over to pat her arm, "Then you're tied."
"Well," the Slayer harrumphed, leaning back into the cushions of the
couch.
Anxious suddenly to change the subject, Willow said, "These dresses
are very uncomfortable."
Tara complimented sweetly, "You look pretty. But I agree."
"Aren't they though? This is even worse than that one I wore for
Angel."
"Angel?" William asked, leaning forward. Memories of old dreams hit
him and he felt utterly repulsed at his mention.
"Buffy's first love," Xander explained, "Not too fond of that one."
"Neither am I, bloody poof that he is," William announced.
Buffy blinked and glanced at William, who didn't appear to notice his
slip up. She knew Spike was remembering, and wondered briefly how
much longer she'd have William around.
"Okay, sitting right here, you know? If you're going to do the Angel
bashing, at least do it when I'm not here. Maybe you missed the
memo, but I loved him. First true love and all that."
William turned to Buffy, surprised at the wave of jealousy that hit
him. Angel! Of all people. He remembered how much he had hurt
Spike, and was so overcome with bitterness that he had to sit down.
All thoughts of acting like the mature adult that he was hurried to
catch up with the ones of Cecily.
"Well, in England," he said, "there's a girl, Cecily. I plan on
asking her to marry me when I return home."
The envy hit Buffy so suddenly that it almost bowled her over. She
glared at William for a whole minute before she became too angry to
look at him anymore. Marry her, would he! Love HER, would he!
Well, she just didn't think so.
Fully annoyed at him and his presense, she stood up and yelled over
her shoulder, "I'm getting drinks!"
**
She made it all the way to the kitchen before throwing an all out
temper tantrum. Angrily, she stormed through the cupboards, locating
glasses. She slammed each of them onto the counter, smiling with
each hard thump. Then, in her frustration, she couldn't decide what
she wanted everybody to drink.
She knew what she wanted. She wanted that bourbon Spike had offered
her so long ago on that awful night he'd confessed his love. And she
wanted a lot of it.
Because she was jealous of a girl Spike had loved.
And, if that wasn't enough to make a girl want to drink herself
unconscious, then she wasn't sure what was.
"This isn't jealousy!" she yelled at the fridge, daring it to defy
her, "I'm just not used to him loving somebody who isn't me!"
Buffy wished she believed that. Cecily's photograph kept flashing
before her eyes. She was so pretty, the Slayer thought, all elegant
and ladylike. She could probably faint with the best of them.
Suddenly, the Slayer felt inadequate in her dress. It didn't look as
good on her as it would on Cecily, she was willing to bet.
"Stupid bitch," she grumbled uncharitably, deciding on Coke. She
poured it into the glasses too fast, and it spilled all over the
counter, angering her further.
And why had Spike kept her picture? Did he love her THAT much? To
keep it around for a hundred and twenty one years? How was she to
compete with that?
She sat down glumly at the table, and cradled her head in her hands.
She heard footsteps enter the kitchen and all but growled, "I'm fine,
Wils, go keep Tara company, okay?"
It was a male that cleared his throat awkwardly. And, since her
vampire radar was going crazy, she knew exactly who he was. She
didn't look up.
"May I sit down?" he asked, after a huge pause.
She nodded and kicked a chair out for him. She'd forgotten about the
delicate slippers she'd been wearing and winced.
William took it uncomfortably and cleared his throat again.
"Buffy?"
"What?" she grumbled, in a tone that didn't encourage him to
continue.
"I-I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that."
"Said what? Totally not bothered here!"
"I don't love Cecily anymore. I have no intentions of marrying her.
I... I did, you see. But they're gone now."
"Why? Didn't love her as much as you thought? Or were you just
fickle?" She was being mean and she knew it, but the fact that
Spike's old crushes could incite this jealous rage annoyed her beyond
belief.
"No," he said, shyly glancing at his lap, "It's because... Buffy,
it's because I found you."
He counted to forty five before daring to look up with hopeful eyes.
The Slayer was watching him, completely floored. That was good, he
supposed. She wasn't running away screaming. But then again, she
wasn't exactly declaring undying love and devotion either.
Buffy opened to speak, but was interrupted by a burst of loud,
classical music.
"The hell?"
William smiled, suddenly glad of a distraction. "Willow wanted to
play some music and Anya had some... something about E-bay, whatever
that is. They're going to dance."
"Oh my God, do you dance?" she asked, spinning to face him.
He noticed the excitement on her face and smiled. "Not very well,
I'm afraid."
"Oh."
His smile became a grin, and he stood up, offering her his
hand. "Shall we?"
She stood up too, Cecily forgotten. Then, smirking, she leaned into
William and, when he didn't pull away, slyly whispered, "You know you
want to dance."
**
"Here endeth the lesson. I just wonder if you'll like it as much as
she did-"
"NO! This is all- You're wrong." She hated him, she was sure she'd
never loathed anybody more in her whole entire life.
Spike grinned at her, pumped and obviously spoiling for a fight.
"Hey. You asked. Sorry if the answer isn't cuddly enough for you-"
"Get out of my sight, Spike. Now."
She'd used THAT voice. That deadly voice that was full of quiet
power. He wondered idly if she knew what that voice did to him, and
then decided he didn't care. He stepped in her direction, dizzy with
the need to be closer.
"Ooooh, did I scare you? You're the Slayer. Do something about
it. Hit me."
Hit him, jump him. It was all the same, and he wasn't finished.
"Come on. One good swing. You know you want to."
She wished he wasn't crowding her space, wished he wasn't cocking his
eyebrow at her, and wished more than anything else that he was
wrong.
"I mean it-"
"So do I. Give it to me good, Buffy. Do it."
She wasn't sure what she was meant to do suddenly. Spike was looking
at her with such thinly veiled lust that she was purely disgusted and
floored and struck dumb.
Overcome with desire for the petite blonde, he stepped forward and
clasped her arms with his hands and leaned down. He was drunk with
it all. The rehashing of his glory days, the old feeling of power,
and the pretty, brassed off Slayer with her deadly force and quasi
innosense left him absolutely weak with want. And he could sense her
disgust, sure, but he could also sense something else. Something
much more desireable.
"Spike!" she cried, stepping back but not completely away. "What the
hell are you doing?"
"Come on. I feel it, Slayer. You know you want to dance."
**
William stepped slightly away from Buffy, overcome with the memory.
It embarrassed him, what Spike felt. And it embarrassed him further,
because he felt exactly the same.
Horrified and disgusted with himself, he grabbed her hands and
murmured, "Let's go in there and dance then, love, if you're so sure
that I want to."
"No. Not in there. Not in front of them. In here, just you and me."
He looked at her as though she was crazy, and maybe she was. She was
beginning to think she was becoming a regular Drusilla. Surely, she
was asking for trouble.
And, surely she didn't care.
She was seeing Spike, and she couldn't stop. The images hit her
unbidden. Spike, telling her he knew she'd never love him at the
foot of the stairs. Spike, promising to protect Dawn. Spike,
stealing an RV to aid their escape. Spike, enduring torture for her
when he had nothing but her scorn. Spike, delivering flowers with an
unsigned card after her mother's death. Spike, always stubbornly
there. Spike, as who he used to be.
And how blind was she?
She all but jumped on him, almost knocking him over with the
surprised force of her kiss. He wobbled unsteadily before regaining
his footing, and kissing her right back. She was warm. He couldn't
remember the last time he'd felt such warmth, and he clutched at her
greedily. And then the obvious occurred to him. This kiss... the
feelings behind it were worn and tried, just as his were for her. He
didn't understand it and he didn't need to. It felt right, and
nothing had felt like that for a long time. He loved her and that
was all that mattered.
Abruptly, she pulled away, and took his hand. She knew she should
feel shy, but she couldn't bring herself to. This was Spike. He
would be there tomorrow, whether or not she wanted him to be. She
clasped his hand more tightly, and guided him out of the kitchen and
to the stairs.
It was time to dance.
