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Chapter 3

“Buffy, that’s wonderful!” Joyce exclaimed into the phone. “And, I’d love to watch Dawn for you. We can do the whole girl-y thing while you’re gone. I’m assuming your flight is going to leave from L.A.? You can just drop Dawn off on the way to the airport.”

“Thanks, mom. I haven’t got the ticket yet. Ms. Jenkins was making the reservations and then forwarding all the information to me this week. I assume it’s going to be out of L.A. since it’s a bigger airport than what Sunnydale has. But, I’ll let you know.” Buffy spent the next thirty minutes telling Joyce about the contest, and what little she knew about the accommodations. She finally told her mother that she needed to go so that she could get some sleep. Her boss wasn’t going to be happy that she was leaving her job a week earlier than scheduled, but, oh well! Just the thought of seeing the look on Snyder’s face was enough to make her chuckle. 

The next two weeks flew by for Buffy. In addition to preparing for her trip, she also needed to make sure that she had everything she would need for her classes, since they started the Monday right after she got back. She received her plane ticket in the mail along with all the necessary information about her lodging accommodations and some general information about Crackington Haven. Her flight was departing from Los Angeles, and Buffy made plans with her mother. Her boss, as she had suspected, blew a gasket, but she didn’t care. She’d given him a formal two week notice - well, it was a thirteen-day notice, but who’s was counting?

In the end, her boss surprised the hell out of her. Not only did he let her leave early on Friday so she could catch her 3:00 p.m. flight, he paid her for the rest of the day, as well as paying her a week’s vacation pay. At 11:00 a.m. Friday, she left her job for the last time, picked up Dawn from daycare, and headed to L.A.

They had decided to meet at Joyce’s gallery and so that they could take Buffy’s car to drop her off at the airport. Joyce had caught a ride to work that morning to avoid having to leave her car at the gallery; this way, she could just drive Buffy’s car home.

“Bye, mom. I love you. I’ll call when I get there, probably sometime around 5:00 p.m. tomorrow night,” Buffy said, enveloping her mother in a big hug. “Thanks so much for this.”

“I love you too. Go... enjoy yourself. We’ll be fine here,” Joyce said. Then, she turned to Dawn saying, “won’t we, Dawnie?”

Her daughter smiled endearingly, one of her front teeth missing. “Yep! Have fun, mommy!”

With a tearful last goodbye, Buffy blew kisses at both her mom and daughter and grabbing her large suitcase, carry-on, and purse; cautiously made her way to the curb-side check in.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: The Churchtown Cottages in Crackington Haven actually exist. I’ve never been there, myself, so I am taking creative liberties with scenery, makeup, etc.


William sat before the fireplace in the larger of the two cottages that made up Churchtown Cottages late Saturday afternoon. The Smythes, an elderly couple that visited every year, had departed from their cottage about an hour ago. He had spent a couple of evenings this past week in their company: dinner, a couple hours of poker - all in fun. He also found out that they were both retired and spent their time traveling. They came here each year for the quiet, unhurried atmosphere of Crackington Haven. He may have to do the same.

For the last two weeks, he had walked around unheeded by the locals of the quiet town. He hadn’t had this much anonymity since before his Beginning days. He was just Will to the barkeep of The Old Albion, the local pub where he had his evening meals. He wasn’t questioned as a tourist due to his accent, which had become more pronounced the longer he’d been there. As an actor, he often had to suppress his natural speaking voice to take on the role of a given character. Slipping into his natural voice was like putting on a pair of faded blue jeans, worn in and comfortable. It felt good to be on native soil away from all the bright lights and endless traffic of Hollywood. Here, he could just relax, take in the sights, and forget about the people clamoring for his attention.

It was almost five in the evening when Will finished his drink and closed the book he was currently reading so he could make his way to the pub for dinner. Some fish and chips sounded good right about then, and his grumbling stomach agreed. Letting himself out of the cottage, he began his short walk to the local pub. On his way, he glanced up at the empty cottage, wondering briefly who his next temporary neighbors were going to be.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy sighed in relief when she caught sight of the two cottages shortly after 5:00 p.m. Her body was fighting the effects of jet lag; all she wanted to do was get inside, unpack enough to find some night clothes, wash her face and drop in bed - preferably in that order. Right after a call to her mom to let her know she had arrived safely. Plus, she wanted to talk with Dawnie. It felt strange being so far away from her.

According to the information she had read through, she was in the smaller of the two cottages. The key was to be left in a little holder beside the front door. She peered down, and sure enough, there it was. The cabbie was nice enough to see her bags inside the door for her. She tipped him, thanking him profusely for the assistance, and offered him a polite/grateful/overly-tired wave as he walked back to his vehicle. Then she shut the door and locked it. Turning around, she got the first glimpse of where she would be spending the next week. ‘It’s perfect,’ she thought, a weary smile on her face.

She set her purse down on a side table and reached inside to grab her cell phone. She placed a quick call to her mom, telling her that she had arrived, but that she was exhausted from the long flight. She spoke to Dawn for a moment, told them both that she loved them, then hung up.

In a sleep-induced daze, she lugged her suitcase upstairs to one of the bedrooms. Unpacking her toiletries and a silk nightgown, she made quick work of washing up and brushing her teeth. She cut the light out, pulled down the bedspread on the bed and practically fell into bed, and was asleep almost before her head touched the pillow.

She never heard her “neighbor” make his way home along the path that led from the town to their cottages. She never saw him look up enquiringly at her bedroom window, trying to figure out who his next weekly neighbors were going to be.

Turning away from the smaller cottage, Will made his way back to his own. Dinner at the pub was nice. Jake, the barkeep, and him were on a first name basis, although he only knew that Will was in the entertainment business. They had spent the last couple of hours discussing the chances of Plymouth since they were now in Division I this year. A lively two-hour debate and a couple of pints later, Will had finally called it a night and slowly made his way back to the cottage.

He wasn’t tired, so he did something that he hadn’t done since he had been there: he pulled out his guitar and attempted to write a few songs. A few hours later, he gave up and put the guitar away.  Nothing was coming, and he wondered, not for the first time, if his inspiration to write was lost.

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