With the rising sun shining in his eyes and optimistic birds chirping outside, William awoke on the couch with a smile on his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he awoke so happy, so content. Even the rush of memories of his night of research did little to taint his good mood.
He rose from the couch, glanced at the clock, and gave into his devilish urge to wake Buffy up in a less than proper way. Hurrying up the stairs, he pushed away all thoughts of demons and spells and focused on the girl he was heading for, the girl who’d starred in each and every one of his dreams.
After a quick stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth and run one hand through his unruly curls, feeling like a teenager again, he headed for Buffy’s bed.
But she wasn’t in it.
He tried to suppress his instant rising panic, even though it was clear her bed hadn’t been slept in. She could be in the kitchen, she could be…she could be hurt and needing him, and he wasn’t there.
William spun with the intention of running downstairs, Buffy’s name blooming on his lips, when he noticed his own door slightly ajar, and he was firm in his memory that he’d shut it the last time he left. He pushed it open slowly to see his Slayer sleeping peacefully, her blonde hair spread across his pillow. His ultimate fantasy of the last few months, his perfect image. Buffy, in his bed.
And he’d fallen asleep on the couch like an idiot and missed out on it.
His panic fading, but his heart still wildly beating, he dropped his plans of touching her, tasting her, teaching her. All he needed now was to slide into bed beside her, wrap her in his arms and pull her to his chest, and savor the feel of her body next to him.
So he did.
“Mmmm?” Buffy murmured, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.
“Shh, pet. Didn’t mean to wake you,” William murmured. “Go back to sleep.”
“I’m up, I’m up,” she insisted, forcing her eyes open and staring up at him tiredly. “You didn’t come to bed,” she pouted.
“And I think I regret that more than anything in my life,” he teased, kissing her lips gently. “What ever did you have planned?’
“None of your business,” she yawned, closing her eyes again and sliding even closer to William’s body. “What time is it?”
“Almost time to get up,” he admitted reluctantly. “I found out some good news about Menithea, though. Spells, weapons. I’ll drive you to school, but I think I’m going to cut out of work for the day, gather some supplies and meet with Jonathan.”
“But then I can’t come make out with you at lunch,” Buffy whined.
William groaned at the idea. “That’s almost enough to sway me. But I’ve got things to do. Have to help my girl any way I can, yeah?”
Buffy smiled a bit at being called his girl, breathing deeply to inhale William’s scent, but continuing to tease him. “Fine, fine. Do nice things, save the world. I’ll just be lonely without you.”
“Now, now,” he scolded, rolling quickly to pin her body beneath his. Buffy’s eyes flew open in surprise and excitement, still glazed over with sleep. “Wouldn’t want you to be lonely, kitten,” he mused, his voice smooth as honey. “Maybe I should give you something to think about all day.”
“Maybe you should,” she smiled, pulling his head down to hers, their lips meeting in a sweet kiss that quickly turned passionate as last night’s events came roaring back to them. William had been left unsatisfied, not that he minded, but it meant that his cock was instantly painfully hard. He reluctantly realized it would take little for his self control to snap, and he had no desire to subject Buffy to his desire for her at full force. Not yet, anyway.
Luckily, the alarm on his bedside table suddenly switched on, the obnoxious buzzing noise giving him an excuse to pull away with one last peck on the lips. “I should hop in the shower, pet.”
Confused as William quickly left the bed, coughing uncomfortably, Buffy sat up feeling insecure, something she’d hoped had been done away with the night before. He saw it immediately, regretted his hasty end to their tryst, and moved back quickly to kiss the forehead of his girl softly. “I’ll make it up to you tonight, yeah? Just you and me.”
“Sounds good,” she relaxed instantly.
“Oh, and pet, anything special you want for your birthday?” asked William, stroking her hands lightly, desperate for just a delicate touch from her while in need of something much more.
“Just you,” Buffy shrugged, then realized the implications of her statement, and blushed. From the darkening of William’s eyes she figured he didn’t mind those implications, kissed him briefly, and headed downstairs to eat breakfast.
Sighing his relief at her departure, yet even more impossibly turned on from the potential behind her words, William hastily undressed and headed for the shower. His mind was only on finding some relief for his overflowing desires. Under the spray of water he thought about Buffy and the things he wanted to show her, do to her, what he dreamed of her doing to him.
He closed his eyes, grasped his cock and pumped it eagerly, feeling no shame as he fantasized about his girl, willingly on her knees and wrapping her gorgeous lips around him. About her pressed up against the wall of the shower, legs wrapped around him, moaning his name as he slid into her wet heat. Imagined how she would feel, how it would be to be her first.
As he came, days of pent up tension released, a choked moan was torn out of his throat. He felt a wave of sadness crashing over him, suffocating him, his moan almost turning into a sob as he realized to Buffy he wasn’t really her first. And the love he could finally admit he felt for her, the love that consumed him, was not truly reciprocated. Because to her, to his Buffy, he wasn’t just William. Her other world, her other life, could not be ignored.
His fantasies, his dreams of what they could be would never come to fruition.
As he quickly finished his shower, he promised himself again he would not push her, would not allow his own misery to taint their limited time together. He would worship her as she deserved, relish every moment, and when it came time, let her go.
It didn’t occur to William that what was slowly growing between himself and his Slayer could alter her decision. His assumption was that, no matter his love for her, she would ultimately choose her other life, her safer life, the life that still felt most real to her.
Yet downstairs, as she sipped on juice and stared out the window, Buffy herself began to wonder if what was waiting for her back in her other world was really better than the life she was discovering now.
A forgotten French test ruined Buffy’s morning, and without William distracting her at lunch she felt herself settle into an officially bad mood.
Rejecting Dru’s invitation to eat lunch, and avoiding watching this world’s Angel making up, very publicly, with Darla, she settled onto a bench in the school’s quad and pretended to study her history textbook.
Her mind, however, was consumed with a swirl of subjects ranging from how exactly William managed to do such amazing things with his fingers to what would happen if Menithea was raised and she couldn’t kill it to whether or not it was possible to figure out a spell what would allow her to split her time between this world, and her other.
Her confusion about her feelings was fading as she considered why it wouldn’t really be so bad to recreate her birthday night here, with William. It had to turn out better, right? It’s not like it was slutty, not really, since in this universe she had never loved Angel, in this world he had never broken her heart.
And the way she was feeling about her Watcher was slowly approaching…similar, to how she’d felt about the vampire she’d considered her true love. It frightened her, but not as much as it should, really.
For the most part, it felt so right. Right to lie in his arms, to dream of making love to him, to imagine their future, and all the possibilities.
The piece of paper clenched in William’s hand was the most crucial piece of their investigation so far. A few bills and a few good threats had convinced the short, shy owner of one of Sunnydale’s demon bars to reveal the address where Ripper, Willow, and Xander were living. Though he’d yet to determine the location of the raising of Menithea, he knew he’d eventually figure it out.
William headed for the magic shop, a list of spells in his pocket that would further aid in the coming battle, sure that things were looking up.
On the way, he passed a jewelry store, and the little matter of Buffy’s birthday entered his mind. Giving into his happiness and abandoning duty once more, he changed his course and entered the shop.
Across town, in the mansion William could now locate, Ripper smoked a cigarette as he observed Willow and Xander lounging in bed, limbs intertwined, smears of red on their bare skin.
“So what do you plan to do about it, boss?” Xander asked, lifting Willow’s arm and sucking a drop of blood into his mouth, fangs receding as he finished, a rumbling purr filling the bedroom.
“Never would have guessed the Watcher had it in him,” Willow giggled. “Dirty little sluts.”
“I almost want to watch,” admitted Xander as he climbed out of bed, unashamed of his nudity, stepping over the still slightly breathing body of their most recent victim and lighting up a cigarette of his own. “Could be hot.”
“Pervert. And must you two smoke in here,” the redheaded vampire sighed. “I hate the smell.”
“We could go outside, if you like,” Xander shrugged. “Although the stench of our burning flesh might offend your nose a bit more.”
“Very funny,” she sighed, stretching her body out, and tearing off the thin sheet that was barely covering her body. “Really, though. What are we doing with this little bit of information? Can’t imagine how it helps us.”
“It will,” Ripper finally spoke, tossing his cigarette away.
“You sure? Shouldn’t we just be focusing on keeping the little brat and her friends away from the ritual? I mean, we’ve distracted them with Menithea, which is good since it’ll keep them out of our hair, but if we’re still looking for Acathla--”
“You leave that to me, witch. Now stop talking.” Ripper rose and moved towards the bed, the scent of sex and blood finally drawing him to her. Neither noticed the flash of hesitation in Xander’s, as he turned and left the room.
A wicked smile on her face, Willow welcomed Ripper with open arms.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks so much to everyone who takes the time to give me feedback on this story, the muse hasn't been necessarily kind to it as of late, and your reviews help oodles! Chapter title inspiried by a Badly Drawn Boy song, banner is by me as I slowly learn to do computer art.
Chapter End Notes:
Dun dun DUN! Thoughts? Feelings? Send 'em my way!