Chapter 10

First one week passed, and then another. The three of them fell into a standard routine, and much to Buffy's satisfaction, William continued to grow stronger. Neither mentioned the night he came to comfort her, both distinctly uncomfortable with the memory. Dawn quickly learned that William was a treasure trove of information, and so she was sure to utilize his knowledge to help study for her year-end finals.

William spent the days by himself while Buffy and Dawn were at work. Twice, he attempted to venture out of the apartment go for a walk. It was just too crowded, to loud, to dirty, and too uncomfortable for him to enjoy these trips, so he gave up on them. Instead he occupied his time with the television, always finding something new and delightful to entertain him, and with reading. And of course, writing poetry.

Since the night he held Buffy, his poetry had taken on an erotic edge. Lines extolling her creamy skin and bright smile, the gentle swell of her breast, the barest glimpse of her leg. She drove him to distraction, but he exerted a Herculean effort to keep that fact well hidden. At night when he could hear her moving in the next room, and he imagined the way she looked when she slept, the way she felt in his arms, he did his best to avoid touching himself. He struggled against the natural urges, even resorted to praying to God, begging Him to stop the torture.

Despite William's best effort, he always gave in and quickly, sometimes even painfully, brought himself to orgasm. The guilt was nowhere near as uncomfortable as the aching hardness between his legs.

It would never even occur to William to approach Buffy with his feelings. It was more than just some sort of carnal attraction. The more time he spent with her, the more she delighted him. She was never cruel or impatient with him, and she enjoyed listening to his stories. He rarely felt uncomfortable with her, and he believed that she liked him too. But still, William would never tell. He had been mistaken in the past about a lady, and he wasn't in a hurry to try again.

After he regained his strength, his memory returned. All of it. Every detail. Especially of the night he died. The part with Drusilla—that was frightening. Even horrific. But the part before? It was so humiliating and painful that he couldn't even think of it without feeling the sting of angry tears. But he would never forget the lesson that taught him. Some men were meant to have a great love, and some men were only meant to dream about it.

~*~


Buffy couldn't help but smile when she watched William help Dawn with her history essay. It was clear that Dawn was extremely grateful and also clear that William loved to help. He was constantly offering his service, agreeing to do whatever needed to be done. For example, he loved cleaning the kitchen. Of course, as a result, all of her dishes had found new homes and she didn't know where any of her food was stored anymore. But if it made him happy and kept him entertained the long hours he was by himself, then she didn't mind.

The only time the household's harmony was disrupted was the evening Buffy offered to cut and style William's hair. It was clear that the curls were driving him crazy as they flopped in his face, but he never complained. He agreed, and Buffy carefully trimmed the hair off of his face. She then showed him out to slick it back and keep it in place.

He took a handful of gel and carefully combed his hair back, then looked up at her and smiled.

"Spike," she murmured, surprised and disoriented. William frowned.

"What?"

"Sorry, nothing. It's just, with your hair, you look…I'm sorry."

William messed his hair until it was a riot of curls. His seemingly constant gentle demeanor was gone, and for a second he was Spike. His mouth thinned and his eyes were hard.  "I'm not him, Buffy. I won't ever be." Then he escaped to the privacy of his room, and Buffy was left surprised and shaken in the kitchen.  

Since that night, Buffy was very, very careful to stop making comparisons between William and Spike. He was right, he would never be Spike. Not even if he was vamped again. There was no point in even thinking about it, and William deserved better than that from her.

There was one rather alarming development though. She was always physically attracted to Spike. She wasn't blind, and he was a hottie. But when she was honest with herself, she knew the attraction to him was more than just physical. The dark undercurrents of death and desire between them, his brash attitude, the way he smirked, the way he fought, the way he moved like liquid sex. He was dangerous, even with the chip, and she couldn't help but be attracted to him for it. He was also a mess of contradictions that confused and intrigued her. She never was a big thinker, and yet, she couldn't help but want to sort him out. But she never could. In the end, she wanted Spike because he was Spike.

When William first moved in with them, there was no attraction. She didn't think of him like that at all. He was just an obligation, another person she had to take care of. And while she enjoyed his company, there was never any sexual tension between them. Which was fine with Buffy. She didn't need that kind of complication in her life.

But the night he held her and let her cry, things began to change. She didn't know if he felt it too, but she had had more than one dream about him. Which was a welcome change of pace from her nightmares about Spike. More than once, she thought about kissing him. How would he react? Probably with complete embarrassment. And Jesus, how horrible would it feel if he rejected her advances? She did not want to jeopardize their relationship either, because it was growing into something strong.

~*~

"Why are you still awake?" William asked.

Buffy looked up from the bad horror movie she had been watching. "Not tired, I guess. Why are you still up?"

He pointed to the TV, and Buffy smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I'll turn it down."

"What are you watching?"

"A really, really awful movie called Squirm. It's about worms or something."

"Ah, I've seen this before."

"When?"

"It was on Mystery Science Theater last weekend. I watched it with Dawn." He sat down on the couch. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Bad dreams."

"Like the one you had a few weeks ago?" William asked gently.

"Yeah," Buffy sighed, "Like those. I keep dreaming about my mother, and Spike and…other things."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, not really. Thanks for asking though." They were silent for several moments, when Buffy suddenly asked, "Have you ever been in love?"

William smiled sadly, "Yes, yes I fell in love once. She was beautiful, but…"

"But it didn't work?"

"Something like that."

"Spike told me…well, he didn't give me many details about what happened. You don't have to either, I didn't mean to pry."

"Why do you ask about it?"

"Been thinking about it a lot. Love. Being in love. What it even means. I used to think I knew, but I was wrong. I have no idea."

"Love isn't that hard to figure out, Buffy. It's a feeling, right here," he pointed to his heart, "But it's more than that. It's life. To love is to live."

"Not always. Some people die for their love, kill for love."

"To die for love would be the most glorious death of all."

"And to kill for it? Is it worth the pain, William? Was it worth the pain?"

"What are you trying to ask me, Buffy?"

"Everything that's happened, I never want to do it again."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

The whole time she was talking, William was studying her face, trying to figure out what she was going on about. What was on her mind? Was she trying to tell him something? He was both encouraged and discouraged by what she was saying. She didn't want to fall in love again, but it wouldn't be a concern if she didn't think it could happen.

"I should go to bed."

"It's late," William agreed.

"I'm off tomorrow, do you want to go somewhere?"

"Where should we go?"

"We can go see a movie, or to a museum—though I'd rather see a movie—or maybe to the Mall."

"The Mall?"

"Yeah, do some shopping. Though, I guess shopping isn't very high on your priority list."

"Honestly, I have never enjoyed going to the market. That's why we had servants."

"You had servants?"

"Well, one. She did all the shopping, and cooking, and cleaning."

"It must have been nice."

William shrugged, "Just kind of natural. I wouldn't mind going out tomorrow. Would Dawn like to come along?"

"I don't know. I'll have to ask her."

The prospect of spending the entire day alone with Buffy, out in the strange world, was both frightening and exhilarating. He couldn't wait. 

William stood up to excuse himself for bed, and Buffy followed suit.

"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow," she promised.

"Good night, Buffy."

Later, when she ran through the events of the night, she decided it was the way he had said her name. It was soft, but there was a texture to it. Something powerful, something she had never heard before. Something that compelled her to step forward, and cut the side of his face. He didn't move away, but looked at her with curious blue eyes.

There was just an inch of space between them, but it took an eternity for Buffy to cross it. It seemed that she could have changed her mind a hundred times, and she probably did. William had ample opportunity to pull pack, but he didn't move. Then their lips meant.

It would have been natural, even expected, for her to think of Spike, but she only thought of William. His virgin lips were soft and yielding, but hesitant. Buffy coaxed his lips open, and briefly let her tongue slip into his mouth. The kiss was slow and tentative, and very short. William pulled away first, his eyes wide, his cheeks flushed. Buffy smiled, but she could tell that William was uncomfortable.

"William…"

He didn't respond, just turned around and as calmly as possible, went back to his room. Stunned, and slightly hurt, Buffy fell onto the couch. That was probably a bad move. No, strike that. Definitely a bad move.

She wouldn't have been in the least bit surprised if William decided to not go out with her the next day.

~*~

Buffy woke up the most delicious smells, wafting lazily from the kitchen. She pulled her robe on and stumbled groggily into the room, looking for her cup of coffee.

"Good morning," William chirped.

"Um, good morning."

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Please. I didn't know you knew how to cook."

"I don't. Dawn showed me how to do everything before she left."

"What are we having?"

"French toast. Here, sit down and I'll serve you."

"You didn't have to do this, William."

"Oh, nonsense. It was the least I could do."

He set the plate in front of her with flourish, and Buffy stifled her laugh. The bread was badly burnt, and the strawberry he had found for garnish was very close to being fuzzy. "It looks lovely."

William grimaced. "No, it looks awful." He sighed. "Dawn makes it look so easy."

"It's ok. We'll get something to eat when we go out. I mean, if you still want to…"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

Ok, obviously the kiss wasn't going to be brought up. And it wasn't a big deal. Buffy didn't quite know how to take this. Wasn't he Victorian? Weren't Victorians supposed to be all repressed, or suppressed or depressed or something? But if he didn't want to make a big deal of it, then Buffy would follow his lead. No sense making a mountain over what was obviously a molehill.

Since William was ready for to go and was just waiting for her, Buffy hurried as quickly as possible to get ready. But it wasn't simple. Part of her believed this was a date, and wanted to dress accordingly. She could still get quite cute when she wanted to. Another part of her knew that she was just playing the tour guide, and she shouldn't get so excited.  Of course, that didn't really stop her from wanting to be cute, but there was a limit. How cute should she be?

She finally decided on a red sundress, braided her hair back, chose cherry red lipstick, and cute strappy shoes that she hadn't had a chance to wear yet. She looked good, but not too good. Not "This is a date and I'm dying to impress you" good.

The day with William passed rather quickly. Then went to the movies, a sappy romantic thing. It was the only film not showed out when they got there. She took him to eat at her favorite restaurant, and he dug into his large cheese burger with gusto. She showed him around the Mall and he pretended to be interested in all the girly clothes shops and shoe stores.

When they finally returned home, exhausted and ladened with bags, they were laughing and the awkwardness of the night before was long forgotten.  Well, not completely forgotten. William would never forget the way her warm lips felt, and the sweet taste he had of them before he pulled back.

He was still cursing himself for running away. There was absolutely no reason to bolt like that. There was no reason to act like a shy, silly coward. What must she think of me he fretted. And all day, no matter where they were at or what they were doing, he wanted to kiss her again. While they were walking outside, he wondered if her lips would taste of sunshine. Over dessert, he wondered if he could catch a trace of her chocolate ice cream. He wondered if her lips tasted different after she smiled, after she frowned, after she laughed. He was dying to find out, but he never tried.

Dawn wasn't home when they got back, and William knew that it would be the last chance of the day. If he wanted  to kiss her again, he couldn't wait. William felt that he had a very small window of opportunity. But most of all, he had never felt more comfortable with anybody as he did with Buffy all day.

She was talking excitedly about a new dress that she found on sale for half off the first sale price when he did it. He closed his eyes and held his breath, and brushed her lips with his. She was startled, but she didn't push him away like he feared she would. Instead, she opened her mouth for him—a silent invitation. For just a moment, he was torn with indecision, but then he accepted.

Neither one of them wanted to break the kiss, and so it stretched for long minutes, each second made the longing increase. William felt his blood stir and longed for more, but didn't even dare touch her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he relaxed, and let his arms naturally fold around her.