Chapter 68

William unlocked the trunk and pulled out the two grocery bags that contained their purchases. “Hand me one,” suggested Buffy.

“I’ve got them, you get the door,” responded William.

They made their way into the house and through to the kitchen. William sat the bags onto the counter and sighed, “Can’t believe I have to leave tomorrow.”

“I know, I don’t want you to either,” responded Buffy.

After a few moments of silence William spoke up, “You said we shouldn’t be afraid to ask questions, do you have any? For me?”

Buffy had been washing the baking potatoes. She thought for a moment while she poked a few holes in them, and then put them in the microwave oven. “I have lots,” she said, “I’m sure you do too.”

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted.

“How about we take turns. We take tonight to go through twenty straight forward questions and give twenty straight forward answers,” she suggested.

Williams began washing off the vegetables for the salad, “Sounds good to me. Pour me a glass of wine, pet?” he asked.

“Sure. You want to ask first?” she replied as she opened the bottle of wine they had purchased for him.

William pulled a knife out of the drawer and began cutting up the vegetables, “Question 1: When we were talking about how many bedrooms we wanted, in the house, you said four. Are you thinking that, maybe someday…Do you think that you want to have more children?”

“I’ve always wanted two,” she admitted. “Always wished I had a brother or sister. Question 2,” she said moving towards him and handing him the glass of wine, “how does that sit with you?”

“I think that will depend on how you and the Bit make it through this time. I know that you feel confident that Whistler’s going to get us through safe and sound. But there’s still a part of me that’s afraid.”

“Fair enough,” she said.

“Question 3: Is there any way I can convince you to cut back at work? You said rest was important, and I have my own selfish reasons,” he finished.

“Say more,” she requested.

“I’d like to spend more time with you. I’d like nothing more than to be able to take you back with me to Napa with me tomorrow morning. I hate being apart,” he admitted.

“I’ll talk to Lorraine this week and see what she thinks. Maybe I could work part-time for a while,” suggested Buffy.

“How about no time?” asked William. “We don’t need the money.”

“It’s not just about the money. I like my job. My work is a part of who I am,” she said.

He nodded his understanding, “I know, thought it was worth a shot.”

“Question 4: Sex preference?” she asked.

“With you and often, any position,” he said grabbing her around the waist and kissing her soundly on the mouth.

“No!” she said slapping him playfully on the chest, “I mean, boy or girl.”

“Don’t care,” he replied.

“Me either,” she admitted.

“What about religion? Seems like, I don’t know, we should think about that. Are you going to want to have the Bit baptized?” he asked.

“I have been thinking about it, actually,” she said as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. William paused what he was doing and turned around to give her his full attention.

“What are you thoughts?” he asked.

“I’ve found my self praying a lot, asking God to watch over us,” she said as she affectionately rubbed her stomach. “I think I’d like to make an appointment to talk with Father Clavin. I’d like to maybe start going to Mass again. And, I would like to have the baby baptized. It’s important to me.”

“Want me to come with you?” he asked.

“Would you do that?” she asked.

“Sure, but don’t ask me to convert. Not up for that, leastwise not at this point,” he clarified.

“Question 6,” she started, “Are you going to let Master talk you into getting involved in something illegal?”

“No,” he answered as he tossed the salad together. “Absolutely not.”

“Seven. Do you think Drusilla is a bit…I don’t know…” he trailed off.

“Psychic?” she asked.

“Yeah!” he confirmed.

“Sometimes, I think so,” she admitted.

“Me too!” he agreed. “I know it sounds totally nuts-”

“My turn. Do you think that someday you’re going to want to move back to England?” she asked.

“Hmmm,” he said, giving the matter some thought. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t think so. I started to pay into Social Security here, thought I would work out the rest of my days and retire here. My question, how is it you never cook?”

“Oh! Good one! Have you ever seen “Mermaids”? That movie with Cher?” asked Buffy.

“Can’t say that I have, love,” he replied.

“We have to rent it then. Anyways, in the movie she can’t cook, not really. Everything she makes ends up looking like some little party hors d'oeuvre. That was my mom’s cooking skill level, totally. She was always busy with her art. By the time I was born she was already pretty popular. We had a cook. I just…never learned,” she explained.

“But what about when you and Angel were married?” he probed, as he removed the potatoes from the microwave and wrapped them in foil.  “Didn’t you have dinner together in the evening? Sitting around the kitchen table, exchanging stories about your day?”

“That would be a no. We would meet at a restaurant, every once in a while we’d do take out. Angel knows less about cooking than I did. And, he loved to go out, try new places,” finished Buffy.

“So, you want to learn? Or, were you thinking I would be the official chef and you would be my sous-chef?” asked William. “That’s ten I believe, by the way.”

“Your what chef?” inquired Buffy.

“Sous-chef. My second in command in the kitchen,” clarified William. “It’s French, pet. ‘Chef’ is ‘chief’, ‘sous-chef’ translates as ‘under the chief’.”

“You speak French?” she asked.

“Enough to get by,” he replied, hoping up to sit on the counter. “So? Do you want to learn?”

Buffy moved towards him, and after positioning herself between his knees she beckoned him to lean forward with a crook of her finger. Then she stretched up onto the tips of her toes and seductively whispered in his ear, “Being under you works just fine for me. But you’re welcome to teach me, so that I may better serve you, master.”

William wrapped his legs around her waist, took her head in his hands and kissed her hungrily. “How do you do that?” he asked looking at her with wonder.

“Do what?” she responded.

William took her hand and placed if firmly over his erection. He gasped slightly as she gave it a little squeeze. “I’m a really good kisser?” she suggested as she continued to run her hand along the outline of the now even more prominent bulge.

“Ready to take orders in the kitchen?” he asked, grinning and suggestively curling his tongue behind his teeth.

“Oh yes!” she said with mock enthusiasm. “I’m eager to learn. I want desperately to please you!”

William placed his palms behind him on the counter and leaned back. He tilted his head to the side as if her were assessing her and asked, “How much to you want to please me?”

Buffy took her index finger and trailed it playfully down his chest, over his stomach, and around the outline of his cock as she slowly begged him, “Please…tell me…what…you…want.”

William could feel his heart beginning to race. His erection was becoming painful. “Want you to take me into your mouth.” Buffy’s eyes lifted to look up at him, slowly. “You-you don’t have to,” he quickly added.

“And get fired? First day on the job?” she responded as she shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t do.”

Buffy unbuckled his belt and with painstaking slowness slid it through all of the loops, finally dropping it onto the floor. Then she popped open his top button and bending down took the zippers head in between her teeth, dragging it all the way down.

William watched her in fascination. His excitement was building to an already almost unbearable level and she had yet to touch him. He had fantasized about this, so many times. She freed him and after tossing her long hair over the side of her shoulder she reached down and lapped up the drop of pre-cum that was leaking from the tip. “Mmmm,” she moaned as she swirled her tongue lightly around the head. “Tastes…good,” she said, sounding surprised. “Now what?”

“Have you not done this before?” asked William.

Buffy blushed, feeling suddenly shy and shook her head. William leaned forward, lightly brushed his lips across her forehead, and then jumped off the counter. “Wha-? I can try though!” she insisted.

William grabbed her hand and started leading her out of the room, “Oh, you’re gonna do more than try, luv,” he said as he looked back at her and winked.

He quickly led her back to the bedroom. William opened the door to the back deck and a delicious cross breeze began to waft through the room. He kicked off his shoes and sat down on the chase to remove his socks. He paused, briefly to look up at her. She was standing just inside the doorway, “Strip,” he commanded.

She smiled and asked, “Why?”

“Because I asked?” he responded gazing at her intently, desire evident in his eyes.

Buffy pulled her white tank top up and over her head, then dropped it on the ground. She slipped out of her sandals, pushing them aside with a sweep of her foot. She then unzipped her jeans, pushed them down over her hips, and with a slight wiggle, let them drop to the floor. She stepped out of her jeans and took two steps towards him. “As You Wish,” she said.

“Not quite,” he replied pointing to her bra and panties.

“You want to take them off?” she asked, taking another step towards him.

“No,” he said, quietly. Then, he pointed his index finger towards the floor and made a little circular motion.

Buffy was momentarily confused, and then she spread her hands out and spun around. William shook his head, “slowly,” he said.

Buffy began turning around again, much more slowly this time. “Stop,” he commanded as soon as she was facing completely away from him.

Buffy could see herself reflected in the mirror of her dresser, and she could partially see William, now standing, several feet behind her. William bent down and she could hear him pull off his pants and, she imagined, his boxers. She saw his eyes close as he exhaled, a look of pleasure on his face. She could see his shoulder and upper arm moving. She thought that he was stroking himself and she felt her own breath hitch at the image. Then Buffy saw one of William’s hands run up over the outside of this shirt, stopping at the top button. As he continued to stroke himself he gradually removed his shirt, “Go ahead and start to slide off your knickers,” he directed.

Buffy’s eyes connected with his in the mirror. She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and began to ease her panties down over her hips. As she bent forward at the waist and leaned over to step out of them, he moved forward. As Buffy stood back up William slipped his cock between her legs and glided it across her already dripping exterior folds. After a few strokes she moaned. He stopped, stepped back a bit, and unhooked the back of her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then he walked backwards until he could feel the chaise against the backs of his legs. He sat down, and reclined back, comfortably. His legs were stretched out in front of him and slightly parted. “Here, kitty, kittyyy,” called William as he moved slowly spreading his legs wider.

Buffy turned around and looked at him. He was truly glorious and she so wanted to please him, to taste him. She dropped to her hands and knees then like a large cat stalking her prey she began to slowly crawl towards him. As she reached his leg she took one toe into her mouth and sucked, hard. She heard him gasp and when she looked up saw that he had begun to again stroke himself. With her tongue she traced a line up the side of his calf, over his kneecap, and up his thigh. She moved so that she was poised, sitting between his knees, his cock in front of her. She reached out and first stilled his hand, then removed it. She leaned closer and rubbed her cheek, lovingly along his shaft and across the glans.

William took her hand and placed it at the base, “Firmly, but gently,” he said. “Use your hand to help control the depth. Think of it as an extension of your mouth. Spit is good, the more the better. You’re going to move your hand and mouth as if they were one. On the upstroke, twist your hand in a corkscrew motion as it moves toward the head. Exhaling on the down stroke will help relax your throat muscles.”

“Relaxed throat muscles are good? What else feels good?” asked Buffy.

“Are you kidding? Pretty much everything,” said William with a smile.

“Okay,” said Buffy, “but come on, some stuff must feel better than other stuff.”

“Licking, nibbling, sucking, kissing, blowing, swallowing when it reaches the back of your throat-” started William, and he noticed Buffy’s eyes grow wide.

“I mean, swallowing before I come. Tickles a bit and creates a bit of a vacuum. Feels good. Don’t worry about me coming in your mouth and what to do about it. I won’t. I’ll let you know before I come. Just focus on enjoying this,” William suggested. “Oh, and this part right here? It’s the most sensitive.”

Buffy looked him in the eyes, tilted his cock slightly away from her so that she had a clear view of the underside of the glans, then after collecting some extra saliva in her mouth, stuck her tongue and eagerly licked the area that he had pointed out. She heard his sharp intake of breath and watched as he leaned his head back. “No, watch me,” she said.

William looked down at her as she swept her tongue, in a circular motion, around the head. She started by licking and flicking her tongue back and forth.  He sighed in extreme pleasure as he watched the head of his cock disappear into her luscious mouth. She sucked on the tip like she would a lollipop. Upon releasing him she smacked her lips. He was trying to stay focused. The sight of her devouring his cock with such abandon was exhilarating. He felt as if his stomach was beginning to coil. He focused on his own breathing as she took him again, deeply, into her mouth. “Mmmm,” she said, making her throat rumble slightly, acting as if she just sampled the most delectable of sweets.

William reached out, and grabbed a handful of her hair, close to the base of her skull. She exhaled as she took him all the way in and swallowed. She could feel the pressure in her mouth increase and she could tell, from his breathing that his excitement was building. Buffy utilized her hand as he had instructed twisting on the upstroke.

She was using her spit to her advantage now, letting it run down his shaft and into her own hand. When she reached the top of the shaft, Buffy sometimes would allow her tongue and mouth to separate from him completely. Then she would blow a cool stream of air or use her hot breath to provide additional stimulation.

“Christ! Buffy! It feels so good, baby. Just like that,” he moaned as the sensations began to overwhelm him.

Buffy moved her attention to his balls. At first she took them gently into her mouth. Then she lapped, licked, kissed, and finally she cupped them in her hand as she enthusiastically took his cock in again, as deeply as possible.

Buffy was becoming more confident as time when on. The passion that she was demonstrating in itself was bringing William closer still, to the edge. Then she took his pleasure up another notch as she began an intense, rhythmic cycle, massaging him with her throat, licking, pulling away. Over and over she continued, while she moaned in pleasure. William clawed at the cushion he was sitting on, his breathing becoming increasingly ragged. His stomach began to clench.

“Buffy, luv. Stop, I’m gonna-” she started.

Buffy released his cock. William quickly wrapped his hand around the base and leaned over to reach for his underwear. “No,” said Buffy, placing her hand on him. His eyes connected with hers as she quickly licked the palm of one hand and rubbed it across the head of his cock. She simultaneously dragged her other hand across her breasts. “Come here,” she said as she arched forward presenting her breasts and stomach to him, her hair flowing back behind her.

William came with a roar, shooting his seed across her breasts again and again. He watched as the milky fluid dripped down over her breasts to her belly. As his breathing began to return to normal she sat up straight once again. Buffy ran her hands over her breasts and stomach, massaging in his spendings. “I’m all sticky,” she said, more of an observation than a complaint.

“You’re superb,” he said, as he let his head fall backwards. “I swear I can’t feel my lips.”

Buffy got up onto her knees and crawled up his body until her mouth hovered over his. She kissed his lips hungrily. When she pulled away she assured him, “I can confirm that your lips are still there and in good working order.”

“Buffy? Forget about learning to cook. You never have to cook if you don’t want to,” said William, smiling contently.

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Chapter 69

Buffy stood in front of the grill, one hand on her hip and the other brandishing a metal spatula, “Okay, explain to me again why I’m doing this when less than an hour ago you said I never had to learn how to cook?”

William was seated at the table, watching her, “You can’t hold me to that,” he said matter-of-factly. “I was in a state of delirium.”

“So, I wasn’t superb?” pouted Buffy.

William got up from his chair, walked over to her, and wrapped his arms around her. “Superb? Is that what I said?” he said teasing.

She began to pull away, but he tightened his grasp, “Wait. I shouldn’t tease. You were superb. As for the cooking, I have no problem taking the lead. I like cooking.” William took the spatula from her and turned over their steaks, “But what if I’m working late some night? Or, what if I have to travel out of town on business?”

“I won’t let you,” she said as she sat down in the chair that he had previously occupied.

“You won’t let me? Just how whipped do you think I am?” asked William.

Buffy’s expression turned serious, “I don’t want you to go tomorrow.”

“I know,” said William. “Talk to Lorraine? See if you can cut back?”

“Yeah,” agreed Buffy. “I’m going to tell her tomorrow. I’ll tell her about the baby and see if there’s something we can work out. How much longer for the steaks? I’m starving!”

“About five more minutes,” said William as he pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “Question 11: Was that really the first time?”

“Yup,” answered Buffy.

William frowned. “Okay. I’ve gotta ask. You can tell me it’s none of my business. Angel. You two were married. You never? I mean, he never asked you to?”

“No,” she said.

William’s eyebrows furrowed, “Back in London. He said something to me, about you doing something with your tongue. I didn’t like it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be, s’just the way it is,” he said. “I mean, he was your husband…”

“No, that’s the way it was. This is the way it is. I want you to know, that what I experience with you is…” she started.

“Is what?” he prompted.

“It was never with Angel like it is with you,” she said softly.

“You don’t have to say that,” he said as he got up and walked over to the grill. Then he turned around, a huge grin splitting his face as he tilted his head back and spread his arms wide, “Who am I kidding? I LOVE to hear you say that! Brag on me some more!”

Buffy laughed as she poured the dressing onto the salad and tossed it, “What am I going to do with you?” she asked shaking her head.

William appeared to give the question serious consideration before saying, “How about I make a list? You can just work through it at your leisure. Today blowjob. Tomorrow…” he trailed off with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “I’ll have to give that some serious thought.”

They two of them enjoyed a relaxed dinner. Both Buffy and William were focusing on the next time they would see one another, instead of the few days they were about to spend apart. “Take me for ice cream?” asked Buffy as they finished cleaning up the dishes.

“I thought you were going on the wagon after the nightmare about the cheese man,” said William.

“Nope. That was your idea, not mine. My idea involves a double scoop of Chunky Monkey,” she declared.

Twenty minutes later William and Buffy were walking hand and hand down Main Street, enjoying the summer night and their ice cream. “Let me taste yours?” she asked.

“What?” he said shocked. “You’ve already got a bloody double scoop. What do you have to taste mine for?”

“Cause yours is chocolate and has that toffee in it,” she said, batting her eyes at him. “Can’t believe we had to park so far away. It’s really crowded around here tonight,” she observed as they turned down a side street on the way to the alley where they had found a parking space.

William had pulled in so that his car faced the brick wall. The passenger side was closest to the opening of the alleyway. “Here, have your taste,” he said as he handed her his cone. William fished the keys out of his pocket, and then took his cone back as they walked down the alley. “What’s the verdict? Still prefer the Chunky Monkey?”

“I think I need another comparison taste,” she said as they walked up to the car. William pressed the remote button that disengaged the alarm and locking mechanism.

“Don’ move!” they heard someone say. William heard the unmistakable sound of a round being chambered behind him. He froze.

“Turn ‘round, slow like,” said the voice.

William slowly turned around. He handed his cone to Buffy and with a sweep of his arm pushed her behind him. There, standing at the mouth of the alley, were two young men, both black, one armed with a handgun, the other with a can of spray-paint. The guy with the spray paint shook the can vigorously while he walked further into the alley and around to the wall in front of the car. He popped the lid off the top of the spray can and started to spray over the graffiti, which read PIRU#1.  William took a step towards the man with the gun, “What do you want?” he asked.

“Da’ ride,” he said, holding his hand out for the keys.

“It’s yours, take it,” said William dropping the keys into the shooter’s hand. “You’ll love it, really. It’s in fabulous condition,” said William casually, as he took a step to the right to better shield Buffy. He looked back and forth between the two men, trying to sum up the situation.

“Yo, Cuzz,” called the second man as he replaced the cap on the can of spray paint, “get his wallet too,”

“Wallet!” shouted the shooter.

“Sure, no problem,” said William, as he took another small step to the right. As he carefully opened up the front of his jacket, he angled his body a bit. The shooter took a quick step to the left, so that he could maintain clear view of what William was doing. As a result of William’s maneuvering the shooter was now standing with his back about a foot from the wall. William reached into his jackets inside pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed it over. “You’ve got the car, you’ve got the wallet, go.”

The painter had just finished his job. He snapped the cap back on, slammed the spray paint down on the hood of the car then started to walk back around the vehicle so that he could close in on Buffy and William from behind. “You don’ tell us what ta do!” he yelled, threateningly.

William shifted a bit to look over his shoulder. The action allowed the light from the street to shine into the alley, illuminating Buffy’s face. “Hey, she’s a looker. Check her out, Cuzz. Bet she tastes as sweet as she looks,” the shooter said, suggestively, as he licked his lips.

Buffy dropped both cones and latched onto the back of William’s coat a fistful of leather in each hand. “William?” she whispered quietly, fear evident in her voice.

“Look, fellas, we don’t want any trouble. I’m sure you don’t want any trouble-” he started.

The painter had by now made his way around the car. He reached for his gun as he came up behind Buffy. His back was open to the entry of the alley as he taunted, “This is gonna be even more fun than I thought.”

“Don’t move a bloody muscle,” came the unmistakable crisp British accent of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.

William saw his adversary’s attention waver for a moment. That moment was all he needed. William struck so suddenly that Buffy barely registered his movements. He stepped forward while sweeping his right arm into an arc. He effectively executed an outside block, pushing the enemy’s arm aside and in one fluid movement wrapped his own hand around the back of the assailants. He made certain that his grasp encompassed the top of the gun, and he used the advantages of surprise and leverage to bend the shooter’s wrist forward. As he did this, William inserted his left index finger on top of the shooter’s trigger finger.  “So,” said William with a smirk as he applied a little extra pressure on the wrist hold, “who’s the shooter now?”

William watched as the beads of sweat suddenly began to form on the kid’s forehead. The barrel of the gun now pointed back towards the assailant’s own chest and the shooter realized that if William applied the least amount of pressure, the weapon would blow a hole through his heart.

“Wes?” called William.

“I have this one covered, Spike,” came the response.

“Cuzz! You betta keep yo mouth-” the painter started to say, right before Wesley hit him on the back of the head with his gun. Buffy gasped as the painter slumped to the ground. She reflexively brought one hand up to her mouth and the other protectively across her stomach. “Much better,” said Wes, obviously pleased with himself, as he prodded the unconscious body with the toe of his boot. “Do you suppose he knows how ridiculous he looks with that hankie on his head? I mean, really! Like we’re supposed to take him seriously?”

“Were you following us?” asked Buffy not knowing whether to be grateful or upset.

“No. Just happened to be on my way to get some ice cream. There’s this incredible little shop around the corner. Oh,” he said sadly as he looked at the dropped cones, “you lost your cone. Well, come on, I’ll buy you another.”

Buffy looked back and forth between William, who still had the man up against the wall, a gun to his chest, and Wesley who was gallantly offering his arm as if he were going to escort her into the dining room for dinner. “So, this is how Alice felt when she fell down that rabbit hole,” thought Buffy. It all seemed so…surreal.

She was brought back to reality as William suddenly moved again. He had ruthlessly kneed the shooter in the groin while slamming his arm against the wall, forcing him to release the gun. The boy doubled over in pain and began to make retching sounds. William unceremoniously grabbed the front of his shirt and threw him to the pavement.

The kid instinctively rolled into a fetal position. He was groaning in obvious pain as William kicked him again, effectively rolling him onto his stomach. William took a moment to tilt his head to the side and crack his neck. Then he kneeled down, placing one knee strategically on the back of the kid’s neck, and aimed the mouth of the gun at the base of the shooter’s skull.

“Wes? Take Buffy home. I’ll be there shortly,” he said, his voice sounding cold and distant.  He looked down and as he pressed his gun to the back of the kid’s head said, “It’s interrogation time. Now, we can do this the hard way or…You know? Come to think of it? There’s just the hard way.”

“William?” called Buffy. “Let’s…Let’s go together.”

“Wes? I could do with a little less distraction,” shouted William.

“William!” called Buffy, insistently. “Walk away. Just walk away,” she pleaded.

William shook his head. “Can’t. Someone sent him. Need to know who. And you’re going to tell me,” finished William as he increased the pressure of the gun against the back of the kid’s skull. “Wes? You have your silencer on?”

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Give me your gun,” said William as he reached out with his other hand.

William took the gun from Wes, aimed it at the enemy’s leg, and pulled the trigger. Blood spattered onto his face, his hands, his clothes as the kid and Buffy simultaneously screamed. Wes grabbed Buffy and quickly pulled her to his chest in an attempt to both comfort and silence her. “Get her out of here,” said William again.

Buffy was all but collapsed against Wes as he encircled her waist with his arm pulling her from the alley. She appeared to be in mild shock as he placed her gently in the passenger side of his car and drove her home.

Buffy hadn’t said a word since leaving the alley. After they pulled into the driveway Wes helped her out of the car and to her front door. “Do you have your keys?” he asked.

Buffy looked at him blankly. He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin leather bundle. Wes unrolled the bundle and extracted something. Within seconds the door was open and he was punching in the code to disarm the alarm. “How about a nice cup of tea?” suggested Wes.

Buffy looked up at him, his words finally registering, “What? You want to drink tea?”

“No. I want scotch. Thought you might like some tea,” said Wesley as he walked over to where Buffy kept the liquor and helped himself to a drink.

“Is he going to kill him?” asked Buffy quietly.

“Don’t know,” shrugged Wes.

Buffy jumped up as she heard William’s car pull into the driveway. She ran to the door, opened it wide, and started to throw herself into William’s arms, “Thank God! Are you okay?”

“Buffy, luv, stop!” said William, his arm outstretched. “I’m covered in blood. Douse the lights.”

Buffy’s arms dropped to her sides and her eyes grew impossibly wide. Then, before she knew it, she was on her knees, retching onto the entry floor in the darkness. “First things first,” said William as he sat his car keys on the step. “Wes, I need someone to sanitize the car and I need to get rid of these clothes. Can you take care of that?”

“Don’t move,” said Wes. He disappeared into the kitchen only to emerge seconds later with a large roll of plastic wrap, a large plastic bag and a garbage bag. “Wallets in here,” said Wes, holding out the plastic bag, “clothes in the garbage bag.”

William quickly disrobed, dropping everything into the bag. Wes then took the roll of plastic wrap out of the box and placed the end under William’s feet, so that he could step onto it. Wes stood up and continued to unroll the wrap as William walked forward further into the apartment. They continued in that fashion as they moved through the living room, down the hall, into the bedroom, and finally into the shower. Wes left William to clean up as he gathered up the wrap and added it to the bag of clothes.

He found Buffy sitting on the floor, trying to get her breathing under control, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Did…did he kill him?”

“I don’t know,” answered Wes.

“But there was so much blood,” said Buffy.

“Gunshot wounds tend to bleed,” said Wes dryly as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. Buffy had just finished cleaning up the last remains of her vomit. She was leaning against the wall in the entryway, trying desperately to collect herself. She started to move to answer the door. “Stay were you are,” said Wes as he moved to the door and opened it slightly. Standing in the doorway was a small man, wearing a pair of mechanics overalls. Plastic gloves covered his hands, and surgical boots covered his shoes.  He was carrying a large plastic garbage can.

“What’s the situation?” he asked.

“He shot someone then drove home in that car. Walked from the car to the front door. Stripped outside. Clothes are all in this bag. Walked on plastic to the shower. The plastic wrap is in the bag too. His wallet and the wallet of the two goons are here,” concluded Wesley, handing him both bags.

“Where’s the weapon?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” responded Wesley.

“I’ll work backwards,” he said. “Show me to the shower. Either of you touch him since the shooting?”

“No,” answered Wes.

“Good,” he said as he walked down the hall.

Buffy slid down the wall and sat on the entry floor for what felt like hours, in silence. Finally, she looked up at Wes and said, “Wes? I’ll…I’ll have that tea.”

Wes helped her to the sofa, and then went off to the kitchen to make tea. While he waited for the kettle to boil he opened the doors to the back deck and leaned against the doorjam sipping his scotch. Buffy joined him in the kitchen as the teakettle started to whistle. She sat down at the table and rested her weary head in her hands. A minute later Wes sat a cup of herbal tea in front of her.

“Thank you,” said Buffy tiredly. She then leaned her head on the wall. “How much longer are they going to be?”

“Probably not much longer.” said Wes.

Right on cue William appeared, framed in the doorway that led to the back deck. His hair was still damp from the shower. He was dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt. Buffy wasted no time in jumping up and running to his arms. As he wrapped her in his embrace she release the sobs that she had been trying so desperately to control. “There, there, Kitten. Everything is going to be okay. We’re safe,” said William, trying to comfort her. “I’m so sorry baby. I’ve seen things, done things in my life that I would just as soon you not ever know about. I want you to know that I tried to contain it, shield you from that part of me, but once their intentions were clear my training…my instincts…took over. I did what I had to do to protect you.”

“Couldn’t you have just scared him?” asked Buffy.

William smiled, “Buffy, he would have killed me and raped you without blinking an eye. Guys like that don’t get scared until they start to feel their own life slip away. Or, until they believe they’re about to.”

“My gun?” asked Wes.

“Dropped it down a sewer grate. I’ll replace it,” answered William.

“Did you do them both?” asked Wes.

“No,” said William.

“You know they can identify us,” said Wes.

“Doesn’t matter,” said William as he kissed Buffy on the top of her head, then stepped away reaching for Wesley’s glass.

“They were sent by someone else anyway,” said William.

“So you let them live?” asked Wesley.

“To take back a message,” said William as he walked to the living room to retrieve the scotch and a second glass.

“Killing them would have sent a rather strong message, I should think,” remarked Wesley.

“Buffy wouldn’t have liked it,” said William softly. “I thought I could avoid it, so I did. If they get medical attention in a reasonable amount of time they’ll both live.”

“How did you know? What made you think someone sent them?” asked Wes.

“They didn’t want my car,” said William as he poured he and Wes a scotch. “They were members of the Crips. A gang. The “hankie” you referred to that was tied around the bloke’s head? Gang colors. The Crips wear blue. My car is red. It’s a rival color. I don’t think they had any intention of driving my car back to their neighborhood,” explained William.

“What do you think they wanted?” asked Buffy.

“I think they were looking to rough me up, a bit of the ol’ rough and tumble, and not in that fun way that you like, luv,” said William with a wink.

“But, why?” asked Buffy.

“One thing I can tell you is that they were sent by someone that doesn’t really know me, know what I’m capable of. They were unprepared, and sloppy. If I were to guess I’d say that a certain Cuban cigar-smoking doctor asked them to, find me, exact a little revenge,” said William before taking a sip of his scotch.

“What? Parker? Did they confirm that?” asked Buffy.

“No. They didn’t know. They took their orders from someone else,” he answered.

“Ahem, excuse me,” said the strange man quietly. “I’m finished in here. I need the car keys. I’ll take it to a garage for cleaning, then bring it back.”

“I left the car keys on the front step,” said William. “You’ll need to check them and the step for blood too.”

“Yeah. I know. Inside’s finished. I’ve got from the door to the car to do. Then I’ll take the car. What about the scene?” he asked, “Did you touch anything?”

“Just the guy, and the gun. The gun has been disposed of,” said William.

“Very good. I’ll drop the car back off tonight and slip the keys through the mail slot. I took your wallet, I assume you’d like it back; I’ll take care of it as well. Here are the other two,” he said with a little bow, then walked out the door, carrying his barrel.

“Wes, you have gloves?” asked William.

“Yeah, in the car,” said Wes.

“We have their wallets, let’s find out just who these guys are and whom they take orders from,” said William as he pulled Buffy into his lap. “I’m going to bet I can trace them, somehow, to that bloke that Parker saved.”

“Do you want me to stay and work on it?” asked Wes. “We’ll need to clear it with Master.”

“I spoke to Master, it’s been cleared. I want to offer you a job, working for me, as my assistant,” explained William.

“Really? Master agreed to that?” said Wesley, sounding unconvinced.

“Wes, Master is my father,” revealed William.

“What?” asked Wesley.

“Yeah. I don’t want to be involved in that life and he’s taking steps to liquidate everything anyways, he agreed to let you come work for me. I have a job now renovating a large estate. We need to install security. Thought you could start with that,” offered William.

“Sure. Yes. Of course!” said Wesley. “When do I start?”

“Not until the weekend. I have to go back tomorrow morning. I want you to stay here, with Buffy. Sorry, there’s only the couch. I want surveillance on Parker and I want you to know her whereabouts at all times. Can you manage that?” William asked.

“Yes, Spike. No problem. If there’s danger?” he asked.

“Protect her,” said William. “Take whatever means are necessary.”

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” asked Wes.

“Seven,” said William.

“See you then,” answered Wes, extending his hand towards William and sealing their deal.

“I’ll fly back Friday night,” said William. “Once I’m here, you can go up to Napa for the weekend, get the lay of the land and start thinking about how you recommend we secure the perimeter. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“No,” agreed Wes. “I got a bit of an impression the last time. I think it’ll be pretty straightforward. If you can get me the blueprints, that’ll give me a head start.”

“I’ll overnight copies here. You’ll have them by Thursday,” concluded William.

“Good enough, see you in the morning,” said Wes as he reached for the doorknob.

“Wes?” called Buffy.

Wes turned around to find that Buffy had walked up behind him. She reached up, standing on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Yes, well, you’re most welcome, Buffy,” responded Wes before he walked out the door, taking his leave.

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Chapter 70

It was around 10:00 PM and Drusilla stood, surrounded by darkness, her hair blowing wildly in the wind. “The wind tastes of salt,” she observed licking her lips.

“And you,” groaned Parker as he placed his hands around her neck and pulled her in for a passionate kiss, “taste like a ripe, wicked, plum.”

“The view from here is beautiful,” whispered Dru as Parker pulled away from the kiss. “I can almost touch the stars,” she said as she reached out towards them wiggling her fingers.

Parker slowly loosened the sash around her waist and parted the sensuous silk fabric. It was his robe, and she was naked underneath.  The cool night air made her nipples instantaneously pebble. “You’re exquisite,” murmured Parker. “The things you do,” he said as he trailed kisses down her neck, “the way you make it hurt in all the wrong places just…makes me…want…more-”

“I thought I had perhaps stopped you, distracted you” interrupted Dru, sadly.

“From?” asked Parker as he slipped the robe off her shoulders leaving her standing nude on his back deck, overlooking the ocean, bathed in the moonlight.

Drusilla looked over his shoulder, her eyes resting on the tall black man that stood in the doorway that led onto the deck. Parker’s eyes followed her gaze, and then he quickly spun back around, bent over to retrieve the robe, and covered Drusilla.

“You here, in your fancy house, mackin’ on some chick, while my homies are out there getting’ jacked up? They thought they’d be doin’ a simple Rambo.” he said before he walked back through Parker’s living room and opened the front door, allowing entry to other gang members. It took four men to carry in the two wounded.

“Christ, Diggs! What happened?” asked Parker as he ran over and closed his front door. Parker was unable to mask his surprise and obvious alarm. His instincts and training took over, however, and soon he was busy assessing both patients.

“Spike,” whispered Drusilla.

“Yeah, I been dissed by you, man. You made like he was some punk! He got both of their pieces. And, he had someone with him that was packin. You gonna fix my boys up, then I’m gonna be givin’ you a hard look,” said Diggs threateningly.

“What are you talking about?” asked Parker, now alarmed.

“He didn’t know,” said Drusilla as she glided over to Diggs and placed a hand, gently on his forearm. “He’s a bit obsessed with the girl, it’s clouding his judgment. Forgive him. I’m trying to help, really I am. But he’s making it so bloody hard and the pieces on the board all keep moving and shifting… By the way… the test was positive. She lied. She is pregnant. You have a chance to save them both, but you have to act quickly. Otherwise, tomorrow she will prick herself with the needle of death… and…all will be lost.”

Diggs sat down heavily on the sofa and tried to refocus. Drusilla’s words hung in the air. The other four men wondered around the living room, waiting for additional orders. As Diggs watched Drusilla uncomfortably, out of the corner of his eye he continued, “William ‘Spike’ Crawford,” he explained, “is Quentin Master’s son. He’s up on it.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about.  This guy is, like a decorator or something,” insisted Parker as he applied pressure to the gunshot wound and gave orders to two of the men to help him lift the patient onto the dining table so that he could extract the bullet. They looked over to Diggs and after receiving a nod, they did as Parker asked.

“I’m telling you, straight up,” insisted Diggs. “I got a call from an O/G. There’s going to be retribution for this, doc.”

“What the hell is an O/G,” growled Parker, now completely frustrated.

“Someone that’s been at this a long-time. An Original Gangster,” explained Diggs.

“I believe that I’m ready to go home now,” announced Dru, walking up to Diggs. Parker seems busy…I’m going to dress, then I’ll permit you to escort me,” she said before she started to walk off, towards the bedroom, to gather her clothes.  As she glided past Parker she paused, then turned and said, “I’ll see you at the hospital on Saturday.”

“I’m not working Saturday, Dru,” he said as he continued to work.

“No,” agreed Dru as she looked over at Diggs. “You won’t be working.”

“How can it possibly just be 10:30?” asked Buffy as the closed the door behind Wes. “I’m exhausted.”

“Let’s get you to bed,” said William, holding out his hand.

She looked down at his hand and remembered it holding the gun at the base of the kid’s skull and she shivered. “Buffy?” he asked.

“Sorry,” said Buffy.

“You were remembering,” he acknowledged. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” she responded, “not really.”

“I’m the same man I was a few hours ago. You’ve just seen more of me. My life hasn’t been all roses and poetry. It’s been dark and bloody. I made a decision to abandon that world and I’ve made myself a different life. I want to hold onto that different life…here…with you,” said William.

As he finished his sentence he saw Buffy wince and bend forward, slightly at the waist, “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

“Cramp,” she said taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly in an effort to calm herself.

“Let’s get you some rest, luv,” said William as he gathered her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her gently onto the bed, “Relax. I’m going to set the alarm. I’ll be right back.”

William was gone only less than two minutes. Just long enough to set the alarm and turn off the lights, when he returned to the bedroom, however, the bed was empty, “Buffy?” he called.

He turned to see that she was leaning against the door jam to the bathroom. She was as pale as chalk as she slipped to the floor. “William, there’s blood. I’m spotting. Please! Call Whistler. The number’s on the refrigerator,” instructed Buffy her voice struggling to stay steady.

William ran to the kitchen, grabbed the number and the cordless phone, and began dialing on his way back to the bedroom. He fell onto his knees alongside Buffy. As he wrapped his arm around her in a comforting embrace and listened to the phone ring he realized that never before had he felt this frightened.

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Chapter 71

William and Buffy walked up to the registration window at the emergency room. “Hey, Buffy!” said Nancy in admitting. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.”

“I’m not,” said Buffy quietly as she took a seat. “James Whistler asked me to come in and be assessed. I need to register as a patient.”

“You know what? I saw him come in just a few seconds ago, he’s already back there. Let’s get you on back and we’ll fast-track your registration. I’ll go tell Connie in triage that I’m going to bring you back.”

“Thanks, Nancy, I really appreciate it,” said Buffy.

“No problem,” she answered before getting up and walking away from the registration window.

“Fast-track?” asked William as he stood alongside her, running his fingers through her hair.

“It’s what they do with the critical patients. Take them back to start the triage process right away and ask them all of those boring questions like where do you live and what type of insurance do you have while they’re examining you or after,” explained Buffy.

Nancy returned and pointed Buffy towards the double doors that lead to the emergency room, “Actually, I caught James, go on through. You’re in exam room 10. I’ll be back in a bit to complete the registration. Have you ever been a patient here before?”

“Yes, and nothing is changed except for the emergency contact. I still have the same address, phone, allergies, insurance, all that. William? Do you have a card you can give her for the emergency contact info?” asked Buffy.

“Of course, luv,” said William reaching quickly into his pocket and pulling out his wallet so that he could retrieve a business card. “Use the cell phone number,” he requested as he handed Nancy his card.

“Buffy?” called Whistler from the door.

Buffy turned around and made an effort to smile, “Ready for me?”

William interlaced his fingers with hers and walked with her to the door. “Dr. Whistler? I’m William Crawford,” he said, extending his hand. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Yes! I’m pleased to meet you, William. Let’s get our girl back here and get her all checked out. You’re welcome to come. I’m sorry to have to meet under such circumstances. You said you two were mugged tonight?” he asked as he led them back to an examination room.

“Yeah,” said William, “two kids. But, they were armed and threatening-”

“It must have been very frightening,” said Whistler as he handed her a hospital gown. “My guess is that you’re tired and stressed. Some cramping and even spotting isn’t unusual. But given your history we want to be conservative. Put this on and I’ll be back in a minute. We’ll do an ultrasound to ensure that everything is as it should be. I bet we can even see the heartbeat,” he said with a reassuring smile before he walked out of the examination room.

“Do you need help, pet?” asked William.

“Tell me it’s going to be okay,” pleaded Buffy.

“It’s going to be okay,” responded William dutifully as he enfolded her into a comforting embrace and bent over to kiss her.

She undressed quickly. She slipped out of her shoes and placed them under the one chair that sat in the corner of the room. Her jeans came next. After removing them she folded them and handed them to William. She then quickly removed her blouse and added it to the pile. Next came her bra and panties. William reached out to accept them and placed them on top. Buffy slipped on the hospital gown and hopped up on the table. Her gaze fell on the pile of clothes and she whispered, “William! Move my underwear underneath my blouse.”

“Right!” he said as he began to follow her order. Then turning back to her with a puzzled expression asked, “Why?”

“I don’t want him to see my bra and panties,” said Buffy.

“What? You’ve got to be kidding. You’re not kidding,” he said as he discreetly tucked her bra and panties underneath her blouse.

“No. It’s a…thing. Underwear is private,” she answered.

William shook his head and asked, “But, isn’t he going to be seeing your-”

“That’s different!” she insisted. “That’s his job. My underwear is not his job.”

“All set?” called Whistler from behind the curtain.

“Yup!” Buffy answered, trying to sound cheerful.

“Okay,” he said as he walked into the room. He reached down and pulled up the stirrups that were attached at the bottom of the examination table. He then wheeled a cart with the ultrasound equipment over. As he pulled on a pair of gloves he said, “Now I want you to scoot your bottom all the way down to the edge of the table, place your feet in the stirrups and cover your bottom half with this sheet. William? Why don’t you come stand over here with me? You’ll have a front row seat. Ready to see your baby?”

William quickly moved over to Whistler’s side. He held his breath while Whistler began to insert a hand-held probe into Buffy’s vagina. Images began to appear on the screen.

“What are we seeing?” asked William.

“Think of it as high-frequency sound bouncing off of human tissue. When the sound reflects from tissues, it is read as darker or lighter, depending on the density of the tissue it is scanning. Images will appear on a video screen as a series of dots, with denser tissue, such as bones, showing up as white, softer tissues appearing darker and fluids appearing as black. We’ll be able to visualize the cervix, the uterus, gestational sac, and embryo itself. Let me take you on a tour, I’ll explain what we’re looking at. How you doing so far, Buffy?”

“Okay, I guess,” she said.

William repositioned himself so that he could hold her hand and still see the screen.

“Here’s the gestational sac,” said Whistler, pointing to the screen. “It looks perfectly intact. Here’s the baby itself. And right here? You can see the heart.”

William leaned forward, “Can I pull this monitor closer so that Buffy can see better?”

“Sure,” Whistler responded. I’ve seen what I need to. Everything looks just fine for now. It’s possible you could continue the pregnancy with some spotting.”

“Isn’t the loss of blood bad for the baby?” asked Buffy.

“Bleeding like this is rarely enough to compromise the baby's blood supply and oxygenation. First trimester bleeding is common. As the endometrium builds up a thick bed of blood vessels and the blastocyst implants, some blood is released from the uterine wall. That’s what we seem to be dealing with. But we’ll monitor you closely by doing periodic ultrasounds and hCG readings. That way we’ll know for sure that things are progressing as they should be.”

“Okay,” said Buffy. As she watched her baby’s heart beat on the monitor a few tears leaked from the corner of one eye. “So, everything is fine.”

“Yes. If your spotting turns bright red, or becomes heavy, or you start passing clots or tissue call me right away. Also, if you develop increased pain and/or fever,” instructed Whistler as he removed the probe and pulled off his gloves.

“Anything else that she, or we, should or shouldn’t do?” asked William.

“No well controlled studies have confirmed effectiveness of bed rest in this situation. But, a lot of doctors would recommend it because it may help. Early pregnancy requires an incredible amount of physical and emotional energy. You’d benefit from the extra rest regardless.”

“What do you think?” asked Buffy.

“I think you’ve had a stressful experience tonight and it’s further taxed your system. I think you should take whatever reasonable steps you can to get extra rest,” he suggested.

“We were talking earlier today about the possibility of having Buffy decrease her hours at work,” offered William.

“If you can’t do that,” said Whistler, looking at Buffy, “you need to think about how you can get extra rest otherwise. Nap when you get home, have someone else take over the household chores for a bit, that sort of thing.”

“Should she take the rest of the week off?” asked William.

“He wants you to say yes,” warned Buffy.

“Look,” said William, “Right now I see two options. You can either come back to Napa with me and be waited on hand and foot over the next couple days….or I wrap you up in bubble pack and tie you to your own bed here. Personally I’d go with option one because option two has complicated scenarios like food and bathroom needs that have yet to be worked out.”

Whistler laughed, “Is it necessary? It’s probably not necessary. Could it be? Could it help? Yes, it could help. Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing for certain.”

“I want to do everything I can to make sure I maintain this pregnancy and have a healthy baby,” said Buffy.

“If she were your wife, what would you have her do?” asked William, seriously.

“I’d have her take the rest of the week off, spoil her, and pray that the spotting doesn’t worsen,” said Whistler, honestly. “Call my office in the morning Buffy. We’ll schedule a follow-up in two weeks.”

“Thanks,” said William, as he shook the doctor’s hand.

Buffy checked out and accepted her discharge instructions. As she and William started to proceed down the hallway towards the doors that led to the parking lot Buffy heard the familiar overhead “Code Trauma, code trauma” page. Dawn and Conner rounded the corner from the opposite side and the four of them almost collided.

“Buffy!” shrieked Dawn. “They’re bringing Parker in!”

“What do you mean?” asked William.

“The trauma,” explained Conner. “Apparently someone broke into his house, the place is pretty trashed. His pressure is bottoming out and his breathing is thready. Looks like a neighbor heard a bunch of noise and called 911. He should be here any second. What are you guys doing here?”

“We were mugged earlier,” explained Buffy. “I started having some symptoms and we were worried about a miscarriage.”

“Are you okay?” asked Dawn reaching for Buffy’s hand.

“Yeah, Whistler checked me out. All is good,” she said rubbing her belly.

“For now,” clarified William. “But she needs to take it easy. I’m taking her back with me for a couple days. Whistler recommended bed rest.”

“And spoiling,” added Buffy. “Don’t forget that, that was the really important part.”

Just then the doors to the ambulance bay crashed open and Parker was wheeled through to the Trauma room on a cart. Imperiale was right behind him already shouting orders. Conner and Dawn followed them into the room.

Buffy looked at William, “You didn’t?”

“No,” he said.

“Wesley?” she asked.

“All Wes was to do was find out who those guys were. If this had anything at all to do what happened tonight, the retaliation was from someone within their chain of command. I promise,” said William. “Any chance I’m going to get you to leave now?”

“None,” she said.

William slid to the floor, crossed his arms over his knees, and rested his head on top. Buffy slid down the wall and joined him. “Let’s just give this a few minutes, then we’ll go either way. I know I need to rest.”

William looked up, smiled, and draped his arm across her shoulders. Five minutes later Buffy was fast asleep. Her head resting in William’s lap as he softly stroked her hair. He leaned his head back against the wall and waited.

Inside the trauma room they had already checked for airway blockage, assessed Parker’s breathing, and diagnosed a pneumothorax as well as several broken ribs, multiple abrasions, contusions, and possibly some internal bleeding. Parker’s back and torso had sustained multiple injuries. They were giving him oxygen and a ventilator was standing by.

“Christ,” said Conner. “Looks like someone hit him with a baseball bat.”

“We need a blood type,” yelled Imperiale as he quickly assessed Parker’s neurological status, “Run all of the routine labs, stat. Once his breathing is stabilized we’ll wheel him over to radiology, see what else is going on. Can’t believe he was so lucky!”

“Lucky?” asked Dawn, incredulously.

“An attack like this? And they left his head, his arms, and his hands alone? This could have been the end of his career. He’s got a few broken ribs and a punctured lung, I’d say he was lucky,” explained Imperiale as he quickly inserted a chest drain. The blood that had accumulated within the left lung as a result of the puncture began to drain and the lung started to re-expand. Parker’s breathing improved. His oxygen saturation levels began to climb and his other vital signs started to stabilize. All of the members of the trauma team collectively sighed. “Let’s get him to X-ray,” said Imperiale as he stepped back and pulled off his gloves.

As the doors to the trauma room opened and the gurney was pushed through Buffy started. William stood up, and then helped her to her feet. “What’s going on?” Buffy asked Dawn.

“Looks like he was beat up pretty bad, but not nearly as bad as he could have been. No head injury. Basically looks like a bunch of broken ribs, but one or more ended up puncturing a lung, hence the barely breathing thing. Imperiale has him stabilized. They’re taking him to radiology to make sure that there’s not more internal injuries or bleeding,” explained Dawn.

“I’m going to take Buffy home,” said William, “she’s got to get some rest. Will you call if there’s more to it? Otherwise we’ll know that things are under control.”

“Sure,” said Dawn. “I’m sure they’ll know shortly. If you don’t hear from me that he’s going into surgery within the next half-hour I’d say he’s out of the woods.”

“Has he said anything?” asked Buffy.

“Not a word, but then there was the whole struggling to breathe thing,” Dawn reminded her.

“Of course,” said Buffy.

“Good night, Buffy. You go take care of yourself. I’ll keep you posted,” said Dawn as she hurried off towards radiology.

William and Buffy were both quiet on the drive home. Each of the lovers wrapped up in their own thoughts. “Why don’t I draw you a bath, pet. Then we’ll tuck you into bed for a good nights rest. I’m going to call the airlines and get a later flight, for the two of us and Wesley.” Buffy nodded as she began to undress.

Twenty minutes later she heard William softly saying her name and she opened her eyes. “You drifted off, pet. Come on, the water’s getting cool,” he said as he held out a towel for her.

Buffy rose from the tub and allowed him to wrap the towel around her. “I love you,” said Buffy as she stepped into his embrace.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t know what I would do if something happened to you or the ‘bit.”

Tears started to leak from the corners of Buffy’s eyes, “What would we do if anything happened to you? I was so afraid for you tonight.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, pet,” William assured her.

Buffy pulled back from his embrace and as she looked searchingly into his eyes she clarified, “No. I’m not stuck with you. I choose you.”

William smiled and without thought said, “Marry me then.”

“What?” asked Buffy, her eyes wide with surprise.

William clapped his hand over his mouth and said, “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” she said hesitantly, not quite sure what to think.

“I’m sorry, Buffy. It’s just that I find I’m thinking about it all the bloody time. Oh, hell! Why couldn’t I just be patient?” he groaned, obviously upset with himself as he walked out of the bathroom. William ran his hand through his hair and began pacing, “Buffy-”

“Yes,” she agreed and she followed him out of the bathroom.

“I know patience isn’t one of my virtues-” he said.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” clarified Buffy.

“You will?” he asked stopping abruptly and turning to face her, still not quite trusting his ears.

“Yes,” she said, smiling, her eyes wet with tears. 

William looked at her with complete wonder and let out a breath that he had been holding for what seemed like a lifetime. He walked over to her, scooped her up into his arms, and laid her gently onto the bed. William turned the lights off, stripped, and climbed in alongside her. They laid there silently in the dark, their bodies molded to one another’s.

“Are you going to say anything?” asked Buffy as she felt William softly kiss her shoulder.

“Can’t,” said William, his voice thick with emotion.

Buffy rolled over to face him, “If you didn’t mean to ask-” started Buffy.

“God, no!” said William as he leaned up on one elbow. He could see the outline of her face in the darkness. “It’s just that I’ve never felt like this before, don’t quite know…”

“How do you feel?” asked Buffy, quietly.

“I feel…” he started to say as a tear slid out of the corner of his eye and splashed down onto Buffy’s face, “…happy. You really said ‘yes’.”

“Yes, William. I really said ‘yes’,” she assured him as she picked her head up off of the pillow and crushed her mouth to his in a passionate kiss that contained a lifetime of promise.

 

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