Twenty-first. She’s a little runaway

Gossip needn't be false to be evil
there's a lot of truth that shouldn't be passed around.
Frank A. Clark

My sweet sixteen
Oh runaway child
Oh sweet sixteen
Little runaway girl.
Billy Idol, Sweet Sixteen, from the Album Whiplash Smile

Your eyes make a circle
I see you when I go in there
Your eyes, your eyes...

If you walkaway, walkaway
I walkaway, walkaway..I will follow
U2, I will follow, from the album Boy



Buffy wasn’t in their first period class, which was math. Xander hadn’t heard from her at all, not since before school started again. Mrs. Summers had called looking for Buffy and sounded like she didn’t believe her when Willow said she hadn’t seen her.

Willow was adding up the facts in her head and she wasn’t liking the answer.

Her best friend was missing. She didn’t know the first thing about the guy Buffy had met, and all she had to go on was the cryptic weepy message on her voice mail.

Trying to be nosy without being nosy, Willow spent her time in computer science hacking into the school records. It was relatively simple really, once she figured out the system.

And there it was. Signed yesterday by order of W. Snyder, a notation in Buffy Summer’s permanent record that she has been suspended for excessive lateness and un-excused absences. What a jerk.

Quickly, Willow printed out the page and erased what she’d done from her screen, before one of the other kids saw what she’d done. The real question was, what to do with this information now that she had it.

Had Buffy and her new boyfriend run away?

**********************************************************************************

Will hadn’t slept much at all. In fact he’d fallen asleep on his couch with the cell phone clutched in his hand, hoping that she would call him, like last time and that he’d be able to go pick her up. From wherever it was that she’d run too.

He’d go to Tijuana if that’s where she was.

Las Vegas.

San Francisco.

Hell, I’d fucking follow her to . . . anywhere.

But the phone hadn’t rung and the battery was dangerously low.

He went through the motions of getting ready for school, idly noting the dark circles under his eyes as he brushed his teeth and combed his hair. Doesn’t matter. All that matters is finding her.

All his hopes were pinned on her hiding out at Willow’s.

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She was so cold.

Cement was good for blocking out the wind, but it did nothing to help contain her meager body heat. Her back was sore and her butt ached from hours spent sitting in an awkward position. She’d been afraid to lie down, afraid someone would come along and find her, so she’d spent most of the uncomfortable night crouched inside the tunnel, her head resting against the concrete wall.

Buffy woke with tears in her eyes and a pressing need to pee. The sun was barely over the horizon, and it was far too early for the bathrooms of the public park to be opened, but maybe, if she was careful, she could sneak into the diner and use the one there.

Stumbling and tripping over her own cold numbed feet, Buffy crab-walked away from her tunnel. So not sleeping there again tonight, not if I can help it.

Waiting carefully beside the diner she and Willow had eaten in just before Christmas, Buffy watched all the old people shuffling in and out. Hunching over like one of them, she snuck in behind an old couple, heading straight for the bathroom. The warm moist smell of freshly disinfected tiles coupled with the constant early morning nausea nearly crippled her when she opened the door. The need to pee was immediately replaced with the need to vomit and she barely made it through the first stall before the cramping started.

She hadn’t eaten much at all the day before – snagging a banana as she fled the house after fighting with her mother – and her belly was void of anything nourishing. Green bile hit the back of her throat and Buffy gagged, trying to hold back, but the urge to let it out was stronger.

Tears dripped down her still cold cheeks and she hiccupped a couple of times, trying to get some air. She slumped down onto the floor, her head resting against the steel door behind her. I’m so tired. . . . I want this all to be . . . I’m so damn tired. I just wanna lay my head down and sleep. . . . oh god, Will.

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She was tempted to say something to Xander, but when he didn’t detach himself from Cordelia at any point during their lunch break, Willow changed her mind. She didn’t want any word of this getting out to anyone, at least not someone she could trust. And she really wasn’t sure about Cordy. Oh, she was nice enough, and she’d stuck up for Buffy a couple of times when the other kids were being really nasty, but Willow thought this was a bit more than just sticking up for someone. Besides, she didn’t know if she was even on the right track. Buffy was gone yeah, at least she thought she was, but she could have just not gone home last night and she could be asleep right now in her own bed.

Willow hoped that’s where she was. She really didn’t want to think about Buffy running away with her new guy. . . even if she did say she loved him.

Nibbling on her lower lip, Willow was walking quickly into Mr. Stevenson’s English Lit class when his voice caught her attention. He was clearly agitated by something, since he kept running a hand through his hair and he was gesturing emphatically with his other hand while he talked with Mr. Giles. Maybe. . . . . . could they be talking about. . . nah, Willow shook her head, realizing that she was probably the only one that knew Buffy was missing, because even Mrs. Summers thought Buffy was staying at her house.

Quietly she slipped inside the classroom, taking her seat in the back, next to the one her best friend used to occupy.

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Will spied the familiar dark red hair of Willow Rosenberg gliding through the hallways, heading for his classroom, and he needlessly reminded himself to find out what, if anything she knew. But at the moment he was focused on his discussion with Rupert, who was detailing for him, for the first time, what he’d observed of the physical condition of Buffy when she’d met with Snyder. He’d been far to angry to really hear what Rupert had said to him in the bar the night before. Angry and worried. Now he was more worried.

Bruised left cheek. Bruises on her lower arm, and around one wrist. Teary-eyed and visibly upset.

Sounded to him like she and Joyce had finally had the confrontation that had been brewing for weeks over the money the Finns offered. Somehow he didn’t think Buffy’s wishes or wants on that matter were being taken into consideration. Thing was, he could understand both of their points. For his own part, Will was with Joyce on the matter, but not for any reason remotely resembling Joyce’s.

He wanted Riley Finn out of her life. Forever.

He didn’t want her, or the baby, to have any ties at all to him. But he doubted Buffy was ready to hear his reasons why.

He wanted to claim them both. Wanted both of them to have his name, be his family. Hell, half the time he didn’t even think of the baby as Finn’s. The baby was Buffy’s and Buffy was his. Plain and simple. So if Buffy was his, the baby was his. Maybe not biologically, maybe not where science was concerned, but in his heart was where it counted. He just had to convince her of that.

Nodding once at something Giles said, Will waved him off and headed into his classroom. He was determined to find out, before the day was through, if Willow knew anything.

Will had barely closed the door to his room, when he’d started speaking. “Miss Rosenberg, please see me after class.”

Willow looked up sharply, her eyes wide and scared as she saw the fierce look on Mr. Stevenson’s face.

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The sound of the door opening and the shuffling of feet roused her from the fitful sleep she’d fallen into. For a long moment, Buffy had no idea where she was, her eyes wild and scared, taking in the industrial green door and the glaring white tile. Oh. Right. Bathroom.

Getting to her feet, she stretched, trying to work out the sore and stiff muscles, but her body wasn’t happy with her choice of sleeping locations at all. She ached all over, the cold seeping into her bones, settling into her stomach. Buffy faced her image in the mirror. They’re dark today. Old. Haunted. Almost lifeless. She ignored the other signs of her predicament, choosing to only focus on her eyes. They look tired. Dull. Just like how I feel.

A deep sigh escaped her and she ducked her head, unwilling to face her image any longer. Can’t see if I don’t look. Cupping her hands, Buffy drank the tap water, swishing it around her dry mouth. She could feel the icy water sliding down her throat and tensed in anticipation of the belly cramps she was convinced were about to start. When they didn’t happen, she cupped her hands again and drank as much as she could. She swore she could almost hear the water sloshing noisily inside her and a slight smile crossed her features.

Okay. Water was good. How’s about maybe some chicken and stars soup, baby? Campbell soupy goodness. And crackers. Fishing into her pockets, Buffy scrounged up twenty-two dollars, enough for some soup and something warm to drink. That’s enough for now. Then I’ll try and find someplace warmer to sleep.

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“You wanted to see me?” Willow stood away from his desk, her books clutched tightly to her chest, confused wariness filling her eyes.

Will looked up at her from his chair, unsure about how to approach this. He knew the girls were best friends, knew if Buffy had confided in anyone it would be the petite redhead in front of him. Just how much she knew was the question of the moment. For now, he was going to play this as cool as he could. Which would probably backfire on him at any given moment.

“I did.” Gesturing to one of the desks, Will said, “have a seat.”

“Is this gonna take long? Coz I have a class this period.” Willow bit her lip, realizing she sounded like a brainless twit.

“I’ll write you a pass.” He got up from his chair, unable to remain sitting. All right old man, get on with it. “Yesterday Principal Snyder suspended Buffy Summers. That isn’t what. . . . Miss Summers was supposed to meet me for mentoring and she never showed. Have you spoken to Miss Summers since yesterday?”

He was the world’s worst liar. He knew that. Couldn’t lie worth a damn. Was so bad at it that he’d long ago given up trying, but apparently he’d lied well enough this one time, because Willow bought his garbled explanation.

“She left a voice mail, but I can hardly understand what she’s saying. Its weird because her mom called me last night asking me if I’d seen Buffy and so when I said no, I don’t think she believed me. Coz I so wouldn’t have believed me. I sounded totally lame-o girl. I should’ve faked an accent or something like that.

“Faked an accent? How would that have helped?” Will was staring at her, complete confusion and disbelief on his face.

“See, just like that. I bet that’s how she looked – like she didn’t believe me. I haven’t seen Buffy and didn’t really talk to her. I wish I had because I don’t know where she is. She‘s not hiding at my house and I don’t think she’s at Xander’s because he couldn’t keep a secret, at least not from Cordy and Cordy wouldn’t let Buffy stay with him anyway. And I don’t know where Buffy is or her new boyfriend and I don’t even know who he is, coz she wouldn’t even tell me his name and I think she ran away with him and I know she loves him because she told me and if they ran away where the heck did they go and why hasn’t she called me?”

The more she’d talked the more agitated she got and Will swore she hadn’t breathed once through any of her last statements and he tried schooling his face but it proved impossible. So Willow knew something, just not everything and Buffy hadn’t told her his name or any other distinguishing characteristics, otherwise he had a feeling Willow would have been the one to confront him and not the other way round. He could . . . . his safety didn’t matter right now, only Buffy’s. And he suddenly had a very bad feeling about what had happened.

“Willow, what exactly did she say in her message?” He needed to know what she said and how much she explained to her, before he jumped in with both feet.

“Here.” Willow pulled out her cell phone, punched in some numbers and held it out to him. “Just hit okay to listen to the message.”

Will stared at her, hesitant to listen in front of her. Before he had time to really think or brace himself, he’d hit the button and Buffy’s tear-filled voice sounded in his ear. “Wills? I know you’re not there. . . But. . . I can’t. I’m so sorry. Please. Tell him I’m sorry. Mom freaked on me and now Snyder and then. . . he can’t lose his job because of me. So I’m just gonna. . . . I’ll call you and let you know I’m okay as soon as I . . . know. Figure out where. . . love you Wills.”

It took all of his considerable willpower to not fling the phone or crush it in his hand or rage against the . . . his foot was connecting with one of the chairs before he could stop it and the sound of it breaking against the wall brought him back to himself and he was standing in the middle of his classroom, his chest heaving and his hands clenched and he turned when Willow gasped.

She’d never seen anyone react like that ever. Never seen a teacher get so upset that he’d smashed a chair. Willow stared at him goggle-eyed, her hand covering her mouth, unable to get a coherent thought in her head. “Oh my god. . . oh my god. . . “

His smile was wry and ironic, as he realized he’d just totally over-reacted. He waited, not looking at Willow, getting his temper under control.

The silence stretched out between them, neither one of them entirely sure about how to breach the quiet. Willow was barely breathing, her mind swirling with hundreds of thoughts and thousands of questions but unable to give any of them voice. On the other end of the room, Will was unable to stop the tremors coursing through his muscles and his hands clenched tight enough to whiten his knuckles. The muscle in his jaw flexed and Will knew he’d completely lost his temper and possibly blown his flimsy cover story about his involvement with Buffy. He blew out a breath, waiting for Willow to say something.

“Mr. Stevenson?” She finally found her voice, the question sounding very small against the harsh breaths he was trying to control.

“Yeah?” He finally turned his icy gaze on her, his eyes blazing with suppressed rage and concern. Willow eeped, flinching back slightly at his fierce expression.

“Um. I guess she didn’t run away with her new boyfriend, did she?” She was shaking her head, answering her own question, a weird expression on her face. “Buffy . . . she was talking about you, right?”

He sighed, then just nodded his head once, without saying a word. “You gave her the necklace?”

Again he nodded, confirming her guess. “So. . . . so. . . um. . . “

“Look, Red, I was up all night looking for her, so can we not . . .” He caught a glimpse of Willow’s expression and relented a bit. “I went looking for her as soon as I heard about what Snyder did yesterday. Has she tried calling you since then?”

“Nope. Nothing.” Willow watched him pace around, his hands fisted in his pockets. “Mr. Stevenson? Have you talked to her mom?”

“Joyce? No. Giles called and told her about the suspension.” Thinking a bit, wondering just how much Willow knew, he asked, “did Buffy say anything to you about Finn?”

“Um. Well, before or after we dumped all of his stuff on his front lawn?”

His head snapped up to look at her and he fought a grin. “She told me about that. Must‘ve been quite a sight, poor Finn standing out in the middle of the street.” He snorted, then sobered immediately. “No, that’s not what I’m asking, Red.”

“You mean the money they offered her.” Willow shook her head, then continued. “I don’t know much. She wouldn’t tell me about all of it. I know her mom wasn’t happy about what Buffy was doing. I heard them fighting about it on Christmas morning, but Buffy never really wanted to talk about it. So I didn’t . . . I guess I should have asked, huh?”

He was shaking his head, understanding pretty much why Buffy hadn’t really told Willow everything. “Wasn’t an easy situation with them. Bloody stubborn the both of them.”

“So where did you look for her?”

“Cemetery. School grounds. Drove passed your house and Harris’ early this morning. Dunno where else to look.” He leaned against his desk, his feet crossed at the ankles, watching her intently.

“Cemetery? Why’d you look there?” Her face was scrunched up in distaste and he almost laughed.

“It’s the only place we can meet, Red, without anyone spying something they shouldn’t. Was the first place . . . .” Thinking better of continuing that thought out loud, Will changed the subject, “yeah, so looked there. Any ideas where else she might have holed up, pet?”

Willow was shaking her head. “Why didn’t she go . . . I mean, you guys are like and so she knows she could be with you and no one would know where she was and she didn’t so I have no idea.”

It took him a minute to figure out what Willow was trying to say and he too was at a loss. “I have no idea. What did she mean about losing my job? What the hell is that all about?”

“I dunno.” Willow shrugged. “Did someone . . . does anyone else know about you guys?”

“No. Well, just a friend of mine, but only the four of us.” Will was wracking his brains trying to figure out what was in Buffy’s head and why she would be worried about him losing his job. “Hold on a second Red.”

He grabbed his own cell phone and quickly scrolled through his address book for Drusilla’s number. He waited, tapping his feet, until she picked up the phone. Willow listened to the one-sided conversation, her mouth opened slightly.

“Pet. Need your help.” There was silence while he waited, then, “yeah, about her. She’s gone missing. Dru. . . . please?”

He smiled at Willow but the expression never reached his eyes. He reached for a pen, but he couldn’t find one and instead grabbed a piece of chalk and started writing on the board. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s her. . . . right. Bloody fuckin’ hell. . . That ‘splains. . . yeah. Yeah, duchess, I’m listening. No.”

The words on the board, coupled with a rough sketch of a tunnel, had Willow staring in disbelief. Whoever Mr. Stevenson was talking to was way strange and knew way more about the situation than she did, because there was lots of little weird things up there. Like names, and while she watched, a pretty sketch of Buffy smiling sadly appeared on the board almost magically and Mr. Stevenson stopped speaking to just stare at it.

“What? Sorry, was thinkin’. Yeah. I said yes, didn’t I? Fuck, Drusilla, jus’ . . . . let it go, I bloody said yes. Yeah. Right. No. No. Keep Liam out of it. No, I’ll find her. Soon as I . . . yeah, the minute I find her.”

Willow was staring, her eyes darting between the board and the gorgeous sketch and his still form. It was long minutes before she realized he’d stopped speaking and was just looking at the drawing he’d done quickly. She was afraid to ask, afraid to break the cocoon of silence surrounding him, unwilling to disturb this moment. She realized, as she watched him that his feelings for Buffy were deeper than she had . . . Willow didn’t think, when she realized Buffy had been talking about Mr. Stevenson all along that he felt the same way her best friend did. But she’d been very wrong about that. It was very clear that his emotions were just as strong as Buffy’s.

“Need you to copy the names and . . . other stuff down.” Was all he said without turning around to look at her, his eyes never leaving the drawing. His hand reached out to touch it, and very softly almost too low for Willow to hear, he whispered, “where are you love? Need you to come home. . . “

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Drusilla wiped away the tears she’d been shedding, then hung up the phone. She knew during the reading she’d done for Will on Christmas day that things were going to get rough, but she’d not expected this at all. He sounded lost. There was no way of being certain the information she’d been given was current or . . . Scrambling to her feet and stepping lightly over the toys strewn about her living room floor, Drusilla headed for her bedroom and the tarot deck.

Maybe there were more answers to be found. Maybe she’d be able to shed some more light on the situation and help Will find his sunshine.

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“Okay, I copied everything but the drawings.”

It took him long minutes to answer, but Willow waited patiently, her eyes on his profile. “Yeah.”

Will reached out a hand, his finger tracing over the chalk lines on the board, hovering over the image staring back at him. “Some English teacher in Los Angeles got arrested for sleeping with one of his students.” He paused, not looking at Willow, but knowing he had her full attention. “She must have heard something that led her to believe it was us.”

“Oh my god.” He was standing so still, Willow thought for a moment that he’d stopped breathing, but then he sighed deeply and she knew it was just a trick of her mind. “She thought it was you. So that’s why she ran away.”

“Guess so. Just wish she hadn’t panicked.” The dejection in his voice forced her to move closer and rest her hand on his forearm.

“She’s gonna come back. We’ll find her or something. . . but she will come back.”

“I hope you’re right, pet. Can’t live without her.” Savagely he brushed his hand over the simple drawing, erasing her image from the board. Moving away from where Willow was standing, he finally found the pen he’d been looking for earlier and quickly wrote the promised note to Willow. “Here. Go on to class.”

She took it, staring down at it for a moment. “If she calls me, I’ll come right to you.”

He didn’t speak, didn’t even watch as she gathered up her things and left his classroom.

Twenty-second. Hell is living without you

I can't find your face in a
thousand masquerades
You're hidden in the colors of a
million other lost charades
In life's big parade
I'm the loneliest spectator
Cuz you're gone without a trace in
a sea of faceless imitators
I can't take another night
Burning inside this
Hell is living without your love
Ain't nothin' without your
Touch me
Heaven would be like hell
Is living without you
Try to walk away
When I see the time I've wasted
Starving at a feast
And all this wine I've never tasted
On my lips your memory has been
stained
Is it all in vain
Tell me who's to blame
I can't take another night
Burning inside this
Hell is living without your love
Ain't nothin' without your
Touch me
Heaven would be like hell
Is living without you
Nights get longer and colder
I'm down and begging to hold ya
On my own and I feel like hell
Is living without you
Hell is living without your love
Ain't nothin' without your
Touch me
Heaven would be like hell
Is living without youNights get longer and colder
I'm down and begging to hold ya
On my own and I feel like hell
Is living without you
Alice Cooper, Hell is living without you, from the album Trashed



She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d had a really good meal but Buffy thought it was at least a couple of days. She couldn’t remember. Everything had started to blur into one long continuous nightmare. Waking nightmare. Sleeping nightmare. Nothing made much sense anymore. She’d woken up this morning behind some office building, in a shed that had heat and a bathroom. Some worker had left the door unlocked and Buffy wasn’t stupid enough to not take advantage of it. So she’d been warm and dry and, hey, sort of clean.

Two days ago, or at least she thought it was two days ago, she’d gone into one of the pawn shops and sold all her jewelry, except for the necklace Will had given her for Christmas. Everything Riley had ever given her, the earrings out of her ears and her highschool ring, all sold. And it still wasn’t enough to get her out of Sunnydale and into San Diego. She’d thought about going to Los Angeles, but she didn’t want any reminders of her father or any one else. She wanted to start someplace new.

Some place where no one knew who she was, knew who Riley Finn was or knew who Will was; so that she could pretend that the baby was Will’s. And that they were separated because of something . . . . anything but what was really keeping them apart.

Buffy rested her head against the wall, her eyes staring down at the small pile of money in front of her. Selling all that stuff hadn’t amount to a whole lot of money. She had two hundred five dollars and eighty-seven cents. The bus ticket to San Diego cost one eighty, which didn’t leave her all that much to use for food. Buffy knew today she had to eat, because she didn’t remember doing it the day before. She was rationing her intake of food, eating only when she was really, really hungry and she wouldn’t go anywhere but that diner where all the old people ate. It was the cheapest place around and the food wasn’t that bad. At least it was warm food.

And none of her friends ever went there. Which was a big plus.

She didn’t want to see any of her friends.

She only wanted Will. The one person she couldn’t have.

Buffy curled around herself, hands clasped in front of her knees and laid her head down on her bent knees.

The ache of missing him got worse every day, every hour.

The tears that were never very far away sprang to her eyes, leaking down her cheeks, wetting the denim beneath her face.

Every time she thought about him, Buffy’s heart hurt a little more. She was sure by now that he’d been released from jail, that somehow he’d posted bail or something and he was safe in his house, but she couldn’t make herself walk passed it to make sure of that. She couldn’t face it if he wasn’t there, if he was still in jail. He had to be safe. He couldn’t be in that kind of hell.

Buffy felt like part of her was right there with him. But a bigger part of her believed the reason why he was there was because of her. It was all her fault. If they hadn’t connected – if she hadn’t started to rely on him, to fall in love with him, he would have been safe. He’d still have his job and his life and he wouldn’t be in that place.

There were noises in the yard and Buffy knew it was time to leave, to head out and go sit in the diner and eat a big breakfast. After that she’d figure out what to do about leaving Sunnydale for good.

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He’d spent every night since she’d disappeared looking for her.

Quartering the small town that was Sunnydale in endless circles, his knowledge of the place he now called home had grown considerably. He knew every approach to every school or playground, knew alleyways and empty buildings, abandoned warehouses and homeless haunts. And yet for as well as he knew those places, none of them held the one he searched for.

Will had sketched her onto a piece of paper and he carried it with him wherever he was, unwilling to give up the search until he found her. Most nights he flashed around the sketch to some of the homeless, but there were plenty of nights when he was alone that he didn’t run into another living soul.

Some nights Willow accompanied him, but most nights he was alone and that suited him. He was uncomfortable having Willow with him and he felt compelled to carry on conversations with her. It was easier when she dragged Xander with her and they went their separate ways.

Two nights after they figured out why Buffy had run away, Willow had broken down and told Xander part of what happened. That Snyder had suspended Buffy and she’d run away for her own reasons. His reaction had been remarkably similar to Will’s, which had kind of wigged Willow out, but she figured it had to be the protective nature of both males. The one thing she had kept from Xander had been their relationship. Will had insisted on it.

He was making his slow way through Restfield, the place he started and ended every search, hoping to find some evidence that she’d been there recently, when something caught his eye by one of the crypts.

It wasn’t much of anything really. Just a small piece of paper, ragged and obviously ripped from a larger piece of notebook page.

Will stared down at it, and when a sudden breeze almost fluttered it away, his big black boot stomped down on it. He had no idea how long he stared down at the top of his boot, but when his cell phone rang, he growled in annoyance then answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. S. . . . you. I. . . got a voice mail. She called a little while ago. Where are you?”

He nearly dropped the phone when Willow’s hastily stammered words registered in his brain. “In Restfield. Where’re you?”

“I’m home, was just in the bathroom before getting ready to go out and she called and I missed it and I’m so sorry, but it was her voice and she’s not far and I didn’t know.” Willow couldn’t stop the rush of words from her mouth, until he practically yelled at her.

“Red! Take a breath. Meet me outside the front gate in ten minutes, yeah?” He was already on his way there, his strides eating up the distance, when the memory of the piece of notebook paper flashed in his head. He turned round and grabbed for it, looking down at the words. “She’s been here too. Found something.”

He clicked the phone shut and made another quick circle of the area, then headed for the front gate.

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She was going to have to tell him. The pressure of dealing with Buffy’s disappearance and everything else was just too much for her to handle. Willow was going to explode into little redheaded parts, just go kerplooey one day and they’d be looking for her too.

Calling out a goodbye to her as usual oblivious parents, Willow slipped out to meet Mr. Stevenson. Once out her front door, Willow headed off in the direction of Restfield.

He was standing between street lamps, under the ornate sign identifying the cemetery, his eyes watching at shadows when she finally raced up. Without a word of greeting, she handed him her phone.

Buffy’s voice filled his head and Will was hard pressed to suppress his tears. “Hey Wills. Um. . . . wanted to let you know I’m still okay. And I’m trying to figure out where to go. . .some place where me and baby. . . . I guess you know by now about me and Will. I never meant to hurt him. I love him. . . so much. Everything hurts without him. . . . “

The tears he’d been trying to suppress stood out in his eyes and he wiped them away furiously. Willow just stared at him, stunned speechless. Never seen a grown man cry like that. Oh my god. . . this is killing him.

“Buffy’s mother has been calling me. She,” Willow hesitated unsure of what to say when he didn’t react to her voice. “Um, yeah. She doesn’t believe me. I think she thinks that I’m hiding Buffy and that she won’t come to the phone or something when she calls. And Buffy’s still not answering her phone.”

He finally reacted to that. “I know that Red. ‘S like she’s refusing because she’s afraid of finding out how bad things are or somethin’. Dunno what to think anymore. “ Will stared down at the piece of paper in his hand. “Been ten days. ‘M just numb. . . . can’t go on w’out her. Every. . . night. . . . “ his voice trailed off and he made no effort to hide the tears falling from his eyes.

Curling his fingers into a tight fist, Will pushed away from the cemetery gate. “G’on home pet, ‘m gonna keep looking.”

Shaking her head in defiance of his command, Willow trailed after him. “I think I have an idea.”

“You think you have an idea. What’s that Red?” He walked ahead of her, his head down,
watching the pavement go by underneath his feet.

“Before Christmas, when you suspended me for fighting with Harmony, Buffy and I went to this diner. . . . near the senior citizen housing project. And, maybe she’s over there?” He stole a quick glance down at her and he caught a glimpse of the very hopeful expression on her face. Will didn’t have the heart to squash her enthusiasm, since his spirits were at a very dangerously low point. Why did she call Willow and not him? Was she afraid of him rejecting her? What was. . . why is she so afraid to call me?

“All right, we’ll try this place.” His tone was devoid of any hope at all, believing that this hunch of hers, like all the others, was just another dead end. Will fought new tears, his own worries overwhelming him, drowning his thoughts.

They were quiet on the rest of the walk, each one of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. Willow was certain Buffy had been in this diner, she knew it with a certainty that was nearly chilling in its intensity.

Not surprisingly, the place was nearly empty, only a couple of people sitting in booths and a few of the staff hanging around. Willow tugged him toward one of the waitresses, babbling a bit at him, urging him to take the sketch out and show it around. Giving into her entreaties, Will handed over the drawing, fully convinced this was just another dead-end.

“Yeah. She’s usually in during the morning.” Glancing down at the worn paper in her hands, the dyed redhead snapped her gum and called out to one of her co-workers. “Gina! C’mere and take a look at this.”

The aforementioned Gina came over, trailed by one of the busboys, and both of them nodded their agreement. “She was here this morning.”

“No. It was after lunch today.” The busboy corrected her in broken English, his accent making it difficult to understand. “She come in today when I was coming to work.”

Willow beamed at them, gratitude lighting her features. “See?! I knew she would be in here. I knew it! Thank you so much.”

Finally finding his voice, Will asked, “any ideas where she might be staying?”

The three shared a look, and before they could hesitate, Will continued, “she’s been missing for ten days. She’s my. . . . she’s . . . I just need to find her, so anything you can tell me would be a help.”

Gina shared a look with the busboy and she shrugged. “She’s been in a couple of times lately. Always looks like she’s been crying and she always orders soup and hot chocolate.“
The busboy broke in, saying, “she get sick alot.”

“Yeah, she’s pregnant.” Will had heard enough. “Look, she’s my girlfriend. She think’s I’ve been arrested for something stupid and she thinks its because of her. So she ran. I need to find her.” Grabbing a pad from one of the girls, Will wrote down his cell phone number “If you see her. . . please. Call me. Don’t say anything to her, just call me.”

Skeptical looks greeted his request, but Willow added her assurances. “Its true. It’s a long story, but her first boyfriend dumped her when she told him she was pregnant. And Will and Buffy fell in love and believe me its love. He’s out every night looking for her and she’s insane-o girl for running away.” Glancing at the faces ranged about her, Willow realized she was babbling and stopped. “I’m sorry. I get like that when I’m nervous. Just please call. Or hey, you can call me.” Willow snatched the pen and pad from William’s hands and wrote down her name and number. “There. Please?”

The first waitress shared a look with her co-workers, then said, “if we see her, one of us will call you.”

“Thanks.” Will couldn’t speak, emotion closing his throat. So close. So bloody fucking close. She’d been there today. She’s still in Sunnydale. . . . still close. The need to find her and bring her home was clawing in his guts, twisting them until he was nearly in physical pain.

“C’mon Red, let’s get you home.” Guiding her out the door, Will headed straight for her house, eager for once to continue the search. He had something to go on. . . a sign. A glimmer of hope, which had been all he’d needed.

**********************************************************************************

Giles watched his nephew trudge across the parking lot toward the building, his shoulders slumped and his gait lurching, as if he were just drunk enough to care how he looked. If he didn’t know him better, Giles would have thought Will was drunk. But he knew differently. Or he hoped he did. Something had happened in the last two weeks that had Will reeling, off balance and distracted and it was beginning to affect his work.

Not that any of his students were complaining. In fact they were noticing the strain also. Just the other day, Cordelia Chase had stopped him in the hallway asking him if he knew what was wrong with Mr. Stevenson. Her comment about him being unusually quiet had sparked a bit of concern within him and since then Giles had been watching him. And he didn’t like what he was seeing.

Heading over to him, intent on intercepting his only living relative, Giles watched while Willow Rosenberg walked up to him. Her hand on his arm startled Will, although they stopped walking to converse quietly, their heads close together. Will said something to the student, who shook her head and then, with a sad look back at him, she left Will standing there alone.

His head was bent and just by the bow of his shoulders Giles knew something was very seriously wrong. Giles was at his side before Will had a chance to move on and just at a quick glance his suspicions were confirmed. “Will?”

Tired and red-rimmed eyes shot up, pain and loss clear in the blue depths. Rupert nearly staggered from the emotion swimming in his nephew’s eyes and he instinctively reached out a hand to grasp Will’s forearm.

“What’s wrong?”

But all Will did was shake his head, clearly unable to trust his own voice.

“Will? You have to tell me.” Then realizing how pompously imperious he sounded, Rupert relented a bit. “Something’s wrong, I can see it. Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Nothing. I’m tired is all. Not sleeping well.” They both knew it was a partial truth, both men knowing that Will was the world’s worst liar.

Peering down only slightly to meet his gaze, Rupert stared into eyes so very like his sister’s. “You know Will, I’d do anything to help you. You just have to trust me. I’m not going to betray your trust.”

A snort of disbelief was his answer and an angrily mumbled, “can’t bloody trust anyone. Too many people know already.”

Giles blew out a breath. He knew it was. . . . he hadn’t wanted to believe Jenny’s suspicions, but since the girl was suspended two weeks ago, Will had been increasingly distracted and although Snyder had suspended her for only five days, it was now the twelfth day of her absence and Giles was beginning to suspect the pregnant teen wasn’t ever coming back to school. Taking a huge chance, Giles said very quietly, “it’s the Summers girl isn’t it?”

Will didn’t dare look at him, but a tensing of his jaw and the muscle flexing by his temple was all the confirmation Rupert needed. Thinking quickly, and without much regret, Giles said, “I don’t want to know the particulars. So don’t give me details. Just answer a couple of questions for me.”

The two men stood there, neither one looking at the other and Will had the sinking feeling that he was about to be suspended, despite his blood-ties to the other man. Couldn’t have the pair of them losing their jobs over this. But once more, the old man surprised him, by pulling on his arm, leading him away from the building. “She’s missing, isn’t she?”

At the simple nod of his head, Giles let out a deep breath, at the same time uttering, “oh dear god. How long?”

“Twelve days.” It was all Will could trust himself to say.

“Bloody hell.” Giles rubbed the side of his nose, dislodging his glasses. Resettling them correctly around his ears, he thought for a few more moments. “Go home Will, get some sleep. You’re not doing anyone any good this way.”

“Have to keep going. Can’t. . . . just give up.” He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, fisting them to keep from throwing a punch or shaking his fists at heaven.

“No. Today’s Wednesday. Go home. Take the rest of the week off and just get some sleep. You look like something I’d throw out with the trash.” Further throwing caution to the wind, he said, “I’ll help you look tonight.”

Will lifted his eyes, tears swimming in them, tears he wasn’t able to hide any longer. “Her bloody mother thinks she’s hiding at Rosenberg’s. Doesn’t . . . hasn’t filed a police report. And I’ve no standing to do it.”

“Go home Will. Get some sleep.”

Giles pushed him in the direction of his car, prodding the middle of his back gently. “Go on Will. You look dead on your feet.”

A sardonic laugh greeted that last statement. “Feel that way.”

“Then its appropriate. Be careful driving home.”

And then Giles was gone back into the school, and Will was left alone with his jumbled and confused thoughts.

**********************************************************************************

He stumbled into his bedroom, barely removing his boots before his head hit the pillows and without double checking the dogs or his phone, Will fell into a deep sleep.

It was daytime, very early in the morning, and he could hear the faint sounds of music coming from somewhere in the house, the strains of alternative eighties hits echoing in his head and Will groaned, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. But the music was insistent and as his brain started working, he recognized the distinctive voice of Joey Ramone droning away. A wide smile creased his face and Will rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Stretching and getting to feet, Will absently scratched his bare belly, his mind blissfully blank. His mouth was dry, like he’d either been drinking or sleeping open-mouthed and he needed a drink. Following his need, Will headed straight for the kitchen. Only to stop dead at the sight that greeted his barely awake eyes.

Buffy was singing and dancing in the kitchen, flour and eggs and batches of cookies in varying stages of the baking process ranged about his kitchen. The kitchen was warm and smelled delicious, and his heart rose in his throat, his breath hitching at the vision of her bopping around to Joey Ramone and her blond hair piled up haphazardly on top of her head. Her back was too him, and the majority of the kitchen was blocked from his view because he’d stopped dead in his tracks. God, woman, he thought, I love you so fuckin’ much.

A smile curved on his lips and Will restrained himself from speaking because she whirled around to Blitzkrieg Bop and he stopped breathing. She was heavily pregnant, her belly protruding out from her, but she was glowing, the heat from the oven making her face flush. She must have spied him hiding there, because her grin was sheepish and she giggled softy. “Morning sleepy head. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t kitten.” He took a step into the kitchen, only to be brought up short when a high-pitched squeal sounded and the patter of bare feet slapped across the tiled floor. “Daaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyyy!!! You wakeded up!!!!!!!!!!”

A small body slammed into his legs and Will nearly fell over from the impact. “Hey, slow down princess. You gotta be careful running around like that.”

He bent down to lift the little one into his arms and before he could grab Buffy, the buzzer for the oven went off and she moved to get the cookies out of the oven. But the noise didn’t stop, even after she hit the timer.

Will groaned, rolling over as his brain registered that it had all been a dream. The buzzer was his vibrating cell phone, which was in his pocket. Fumbling for it, Will groggily answered.

There was silence on the other end for so long that he thought he’d dreamed the phone call also, but then very softly, very faintly, he heard a whisper of sound. Every sense went on alert, every nerve pinged with awareness. He closed his eyes, afraid to say anything for fear of scaring her away. He waited, his heart in his throat and tears starting to stream down his face.

“I’m. . . . Will? Are you there? I. . . . I’m so sorry. Didn’t want to get you into trouble. All I do is cause trouble. . . Oh god. Will. . . “ her voice broke on a sob and he couldn’t speak.
He cleared his throat, his own tears making his voice husky and deep with need and love. “Baby. . . please come home. Please.”

But she was gone.

All he heard was dead air.

**********************************************************************************

Beyond a terse greeting and a softly-voiced indication that they were going to search starting in Restfield Cemetery and then head over to the housing developments, Rupert and Will hadn’t spoken a word the entire time they searched.

They didn’t encounter any homeless, but then Will hadn’t expected too; it was a cold and cloudy night, rain threatening and they tended to find whatever meager shelter they could on nights like this. He had no inclination to explain himself, or his actions, or anything about his relationship with Buffy Summers to his uncle. If he didn’t give him anything, there was nothing that Giles could use against him later on. The fact that the man was out with him searching for her was enough. It was more than either of her parents were willing to do. He seriously doubted if Joyce had even bothered to inform her ex-husband that their only child was missing. Joyce didn’t believe it. He’d overheard one of Willow’s conversations with Joyce and the woman clearly, sincerely believed that her daughter was hiding out at the Rosenberg’s, despite Willow’s statements otherwise.

It was after one in the morning when Will sent his uncle home, and though Rupert had started to say something, Will had just waved him off and headed in the opposite direction. It was clear to Rupert that his nephew wasn’t done searching for the night and he doubted that Will would arrive home before daybreak.

The reality of Will’s situation struck him, as he was waiting at a stop light, after leaving him. Will had all the hallmarks of a man in love who’d lost his woman. The grief, the unshaven face, the teary red eyes and the dejected set of his shoulders – all clearly visible to anyone who cared to look. This wasn’t like what had happened when Drusilla had left him or when he’d broken up with any of the other endless parade of women over the years. No. This was how he’d acted when Anne had passed on, when his mother had finally given in to her own grief and illness and joined James.

Oh dear god. Will is in love with her.

And she’s seventeen bloody years old.

Rupert resolved, as far as the district was concerned, to keep this as quiet as possible. The last thing Will needed right now was more interference or heartbreak. But he had a sneaking suspicion that Joyce Summers wouldn’t just roll over and let him be if she found out just how involved Buffy’s English teacher was.

The question for him, though, was this all a one-sided obsession on Will’s part or did the girl return his feelings?

**********************************************************************************

It was four days before Gina saw the girl the strange couple were looking for come into the diner. She watched her sit down at the counter, blowing on her cold fingers and motioned to the other waitress that she would take this order. Without a word, Gina got the hot chocolate ready, then added extra milk and a bit more whipped cream than she normally did. If this little slip of a thing is pregnant, then she needs to be eating better.

Placing the drink down with a smile, Gina waited until the younger girl looked up in surprise. “Figured you could use that.”

“Thanks. Its cold out.” Buffy wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth.

“So. Whatcha gonna have today?” Gina leaned against the counter, her eyes watching the wariness in the other, wondering what had made her run from such a good looking man. “Hhmm?? Anything catch your eye?”

Buffy stared up at the waitress, unsure why suddenly she seemed bent on having a conversation with her. “Grilled cheese. And maybe some soup. I’m hungry today.”

Gina bustled off, then was back shortly, a strange look on her face. She leaned closer over the counter, her hand close to Buffy’s. “Listen sweetie. I wanna tell you something, but you gotta promise me not to run off, okay?”

Narrowing her eyes, Buffy hesitated, then nodded her head. “What?”

“Look. Couple of days ago, a guy and a girl came in here looking for you. He had this drawing, it was you. Your face. Pretty good drawing too.” Gina paused, poised to grab the girl’s hand if she made a move to run. “Said you ran away because of a misunderstanding. That you thought he was in trouble because of you. He wanted me to call his cell phone if you came in. But I figure,” she paused one more time, “that you should know he’s looking, in case he was lying.”

Shaken and worried, Buffy stared down at the melting whipped cream. The hot chocolate started to curdle in her belly and all the fears about Will came rushing back. But, maybe he was right? Maybe. . . . “what did he look like?”

“Girl. That man was fine. Gorgeous blue eyes and damn, his face, he was just fine. I was tempted to call hm anyway just to get him to come in again. And his accent. Ooohhh. Yeah, he’s fine.” The other woman’s reaction was so over the top that Buffy couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her.

“Yeah. Will’s a hottie.” The words were out of her mouth and said so sincerely that Gina had to believe that Mr. Hot and Fine had been telling the truth.

“Look, girl, that man looked broken up. You need to go back to him. You’re miserable and he’s miserable.” She stopped talking when her name was called and she motioned to Buffy, “be right back. Don’t go.”

Too stunned to say or do much of anything, Buffy mechanically drank her hot chocolate. If Will was out looking, the other person had to be Willow. . . . unless it was Drusilla. A huge platter of grilled cheese and a golden mound of french fries was placed in front of her and Buffy looked up at Gina’s smiling face. “Um. I ordered just a sandwich.”

“So sue me. I gave you fries too.” Her smile was kind and not the least bit unfriendly.

“The girl with him. Did she have red hair?” Afraid of the answer in case it wasn’t Willow, Buffy played with a french fry before popping it into her mouth. Oh damn. I missed this. . . these are soo good.

“Oh yeah. She had red hair that don’t come from a bottle.” Folding her arms and looking down at Buffy who was absently shoving fries into her mouth, Gina said, “go home. Go back to him. Find out what’s going on before you decide to run.”

“How come you’re so big with the advice?”

“Everyone makes mistakes. Trick is how you fix ‘em.”

With that bit of advice, Gina turned her back and walked away.

**********************************************************************************

Her belly was really full for the first time in days. Gina had fed her, placing a bowl of chicken and rice down in front of her when it looked like Buffy was going to get up and leave. Then she’d gotten her more hot chocolate. And when then that was done, she plopped down a slice of apple pie. Gina hadn’t said another word to her, not about anything. Not the food. Not Will.

Which Buffy was grateful for because she had way too much to think about now.

Her eyes were drooping and she stifled a jaw-cracking yawn. Maybe Gina’s right. . . . maybe I should just go see him one more time before I leave. . . . just to say goodbye.

Mind made up, Buffy took out a twenty and looked around for Gina. She caught the busboy watching her and she started to ask him for her check when he said, in heavily accented English, “all paid missy. No worries.”

Buffy whirled around, looking for any other waitress or the cashier but none of them was around, only the busboy, who just smiled at her, then walked back into the kitchen.

She shrugged, then bundled up before leaving.

**********************************************************************************

Will was listening to the CD Buffy had given him as part of his Christmas gift – bootlegged live Sex Pistols – his mind and heart numb. He was beginning to lose all hope. It had been almost fifteen days she’d been gone and the ache wasn’t any better. He knew it was worse. Drusilla had called around lunchtime, but it was now around four and he was debating with himself about going out now to search for her. He’d been out searching all night until eleven this morning and then he’d come home to try and rest for a bit before going back out.

It’s time. Would rather be out there searching than in here thinking about it. Gonna find her. Gotta find her. I’m drowning without her. Lifting his eyes upwards, Will said a quick prayer and then in a fit of inspiration, he addressed the heavens once more. “C’mon mum. . . help me find her.”

Will grabbed his duster, shrugging it on, then snagged the drawing of Buffy he’d sketched over two weeks ago. Staring down at it, he asked, “where are you love? Why won’t you come home?”

Sighing deeply, Will opened his front door, noting the cold weather and hint of rain in the air. Turning up his collar, Will locked his door and descended the short stoop, his eyes on the DeSoto. Shadows were just beginning to lengthen, nightfall closing in quickly and at first Will thought the darker shadow against the side of the old car was a trick of the light, but then it moved, and he caught a glimmer of dark gold. His breathing stopped and his heart and stomach lurched. Oh please god. . . can’t take this if you’re just fucking with me. Can’t . . . its gotta be her.

On silent feet he moved closer, hoping, praying with every step. Tears streamed unchecked from his suddenly blurry eyes and Will shook them off, unblinking, afraid the shadow would disappear.

Feet. . . . tiny boots. . . jean clad legs. . . Will raised his eyes a bit. . . . oh fuck.

Fuckin’ Jesus. Bloody fuckin’ hell.

She was curled up on the driveway, her head resting by the front wheel well, sound asleep.

Buffy was here.

She’s home.

Will knelt down in front of her, his hand brushing softly against her cheek and let the tears fall once more.

Twenty-third. Madness in love


Oh how quiet, quiet the world can be
when it's just you and little me
everything is clear, everything is new
so you won't be leaving will you

and if you're cold, I'll keep you warm
if you're low, just hold on
cos I will be your safety
oh don't leave home
Dido, Don’t Leave Home, from the album Life for Rent

For it was not into my ear you whispered,
but into my heart.
It was not my lips you kissed,
but my soul.
Judy Garland

There is always some madness in love.
But there is also always some reason in madness.
Friedrich Nietzsche, On Reading and Writing

When love is not madness, it is not love.
Pedro Calderon de la Barca



She barely stirred when he lifted her into his shaking arms, murmuring his name, falling into a deeper sleep. Didn’t wake when he laid her down on his bed. Not when he took off her boots, her coat, not even when he kissed her forehead. But he honestly didn’t care. She was here with him. That was the only thing that mattered.

Buffy. . . . Will stared down at her sleeping peacefully in his bed and made a promise to himself – he was going to sleep beside her every night from that night until he breathed his last. He was never ever going to go through this again. It would kill him.

Placing another kiss on her forehead, Will unbuckled and took off his boots, shrugged off his duster and climbed into bed beside her. His arms went around her, pulling her into his embrace and Will closed his eyes, a litany of thanks filling his head.

It wasn’t long before he too slipped into sleep.

**********************************************************************************

Warm. . . safe. Buffy shifted in her sleep unconsciously responding to his nearness. Sleepily she settled in, her hands burrowing closer to the source of that delicious warmth. Whatever she was sleeping on was hard and not so comfy, but it was warm, warmer than she’d been in days. She shifted again and the warmth shifted with her and a deep rumble sounded under her ear.

The last thing she remembered was leaving the diner and slowly walking toward Will’s house, trying to figure out what to tell him, what to say to him, how to explain what had happened. Why she was leaving. . . when leaving him was the very last thing she wanted to do. But she couldn’t stay if he was going to jail because of her. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t live with herself knowing that she was the cause of his misery and pain. The last thing she wanted was to do that to him. He’d had enough of that in his life. She could sense it, could read between the lines when he talked about his parents and Drusilla. It didn’t matter that being without him would be the end of her, that she’d never love anyone ever again. He’d be safe.

That would have to be enough.

Buffy had stopped in front of his house, all at once afraid to go knock on his door. Afraid to see him, in case he hated her now, didn’t want anything to do with her. Or worse, that he was still in jail and unable to see her. She didn’t register the loud music coming from his stereo, or the lights or anything else. Her fear blinded her to the fact that he was home, safe, and all she had to do was go knock. Buffy slumped down in front of his big black car, the one that was older than both of them, and she stuffed her fist into her mouth to stop the sobs from echoing in the later afternoon quiet. Resting her head against the solid steel, Buffy closed her eyes, saying a prayer for his safety.

She was dreaming again. Dreaming the same dream, her favorite, that she was curled up in Will’s arms, in his bed, her body meshed with his. His hands holding her, his lips against her. Buffy fought opening her eyes when she felt those lips move and the rumbling begin again. A small smile crossed her features, wistful and sad, when a strong hand cupped her cheek.

“Not dreamin’ kitten. This is real.”

Her eyes opened to find him looking at her steadily, his warm hand brushing across her skin. “I’m so sorry. . . I just . . . I’m sorry about your job and everything and . . . “ her voice broke on a sob and she buried her face against his strong chest, weeping out her sorrow and despair.

It was long minutes before he could calm her enough to listen, but finally his quiet tones broke through her tears.

“Wasn’t us sweetheart. Wasn’t. . . I swear it. Was someone in LA. No one caught us, baby. Shhhhh. Wasn’t us. We’re safe. You’re safe. ‘ve got you, baby.”

Buffy listened, drained and unable to function beyond wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so stupid. Just heard about it and. . . “

Before the tears could start again, Will shushed her by brushing his thumb over her lips. “Kitten, listen to me. Please? No tears.” He kissed her closed eyes, his voice soft, rumbling between them. “Know what happened that morning, or close enough. Lemme guess, okay? Sshhhh.”

Absently running his thumb over her cheek, Will said, “must’ve woken up feeling poorly again, maybe running late on a count of that. And your mum decided to talk about the money, yeah? Only it wasn’t talking was it?”

She started to speak, but his strong deep voice washed over her, not allowing her to interrupt. “Giles saw your face that morning and your wrist. Things got a bit rough, yeah. . . an’ then there was Snyder. Bleedin’ wanker making a joke of your problems. So it was already a fucked up morning for you.”

Tears started flowing from her eyes, but she wasn’t sobbing, which Will took as a good sign. “Did you overhear a news bulletin or was someone yapping about the arrest?”

He waited a heartbeat and when she struggled to answer, he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter sweetheart. What matters is you thought it was all over, everything.”

“Will. . . “ Buffy curled into his arms, once more burying her face into his chest.

“Buffy. Sssshhhh. C’mon baby. Everything’s okay now. You’re home. . . . safe.” He rocked her into his arms, holding her tight against him. “You’re home baby.”

**********************************************************************************

She was quiet for so long, he thought she’d almost gone back to sleep, but she surprised him when she started talking. “I’m sorry. I just. . . it was so crazy that morning. And when I heard that I just. . . . I panicked.”

They were lying on his bed, her head resting on his chest and Buffy’s voice sounded so lost that Will couldn’t stop his reaction. His arms tightened around her, the hand that was resting on her back flexed and he growled.

“No one knows, kitten. Well not who you think anyway. Willow guessed and somehow Rupert sussed it out, but that’s it. Hell, your mother thinks you’ve been hiding at Willow’s in a snit.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. My mom’s kind of . . . volatile.” That last came out in a whisper and Will brushed a kiss against her temple.

“Eeeww. No. I’m gross.” Buffy moved away from him, shaking her head. “I so need to shower. . . can I?”

“Sure.” He got up from the bed, opening a drawer. “I . . . ah. . . snuck in through your window and got some stuff.” Will motioned to it, but Buffy wasn’t paying attention.

“My stuff – my backpack – there’s stuff in there that could be washed.” Buffy looked around frantically for it.

“Didn’t see it. Was only worried ‘bout you kitten. It should still be out there.” Pushing her toward the bathroom, Will said, “go on I’ll find it.”

**********************************************************************************

On shaky feet Buffy headed for the bathroom, her mind blank. The room was warm and she stared at the taps for a moment before realizing it wasn’t a dream. There was no way she could be dreaming something this good.

The water heated up the room, steaming the mirror and she stripped out of her clothes, looking for a garbage pail to throw them in. She couldn’t find one and not feeling like looking, she left them on the floor, then practically dove under the shower spray. The hot water was both soothing and invigorating, her groan of bliss echoed in the quiet room, and Buffy felt like she’d gotten a bit of a second wind.

Finding shampoo and soap was simple, though she wrinkled her nose at the selection. Buffy was about to dump the shampoo into her hair when Will’s voice startled her into a soft yelp.

“Got some girly stuff for you sweetheart.” He said as he rummaged in a closet.

“What?”

His voice sounded sheepish. “Asked Red what you like.”

As he pushed his hand through the shower curtain, presenting the offered items, she squeaked. “For me? You bought this?”

There was a long pause, then Will said, “yeah.”

He sounded like there was more to the explanation so, emboldened by his openness so far and the curtain between them, she asked, “why?”

Waiting a moment before answering, Will finally said, “b’cause I want you to stay. With me.”

“Oh.” She could hear him moving around behind the curtain, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing through the material. “Will?” How long. . . do you want. . . “

Her words died away when the shower curtain opened and he stared at her. “Till I get over this.”

Trying to cover herself a bit, Buffy stared back at him over her shoulder, shampoo suds dripping down her back. “How long is that gonna take?”

“Five or six. . . hundred years, at least.” He said it with such a straight face that Buffy wasn’t sure what he said at first, but then she giggled. “Not bloody joking, sweetheart. You scared me. ‘M not letting you go.”

She turned to face him, forgetting she was in the shower and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You mean that?”

“Course I do kitten. Never gonna let you go.” His arms pulled her closer and she slipped against the slick bottom, teetering backwards. Will hauled her forward, fingers digging into her hips, but he stopped her from getting hurt.

“Oops. You’re all wet now.” Buffy pulled at his tee-shirt, giggling helplessly.

Will leered down at her naked soapy body. “All part of my plan kitten.” Letting her go, Will stripped out of his jeans while she tugged at his sopping shirt.

He stepped into the shower behind her, nudging her forward, under the hot water. Her back to him, he threaded his fingers into her soapy hair, massaging her scalp. Buffy sighed, unconsciously leaning back against him, the fatigue stealing through her. “It’s all right, baby, ‘ve got you.”

“I’m soo tired.” He positioned her so that the water rinsed the shampoo, then added a healthy amount of conditioner to her hair. She mumbled something sleepily at him, and Will let her head rest against his shoulder while he washed her arms. His hands cupped her breasts from behind, his thumbs and forefingers rolling the heat-softened nipples between them. Her arms lifted up, curling around his head, resting against the nape of his neck. His soapy hands washed over her, running up and down her torso, and she could feel his breathing start to labor, matching her own. “Will?”

“Shhh. . . not gonna. . . just wanna touch you, kitten. Need to.” Deep and low, his voice washed over her as his hands did the same. Leaving his right at her breasts, Will let his left hand drift down over her slightly rounded belly, toward the curls covering her sex. His thumb brushed past her navel, his fingers curling around her. Buffy tensed a little, but his soft rumble calmed her, even as his hands roused her body.

His erection was cradled between them, hard and wanting against her flesh, but Will did nothing to pressure her. This was enough for him, for the moment. Just holding her had been enough, now he was touching her, running his big hands over her tiny form. Will leaned down and kissed her shoulder, nibbling a little as he did. She ran one hand over his arm, tightening herself against him as flashes of need pulsed through her, responding to his touch.

Open-mouthed kisses interspersed with gentle bites rained across her shoulders and the back of her neck. Buffy shivered despite the heat of the water, her body awakening under his subtle touch. She gasped, feeling the muscles beneath her skin bunch and thrum, her hand slide along his wet forearm, entwining their fingers together as he fondled her breasts. His other fingers were just as engaged, kneading the soft folds of her pussy, his thumb circling her clit. Buffy arched into his hand, her head bowed back against his upper chest, little gasps escaping from her open mouth. Will’s voice rasped out as he tasted her skin, “is what you do when we’re on the phone. . . do you touch yourself here?

Pressing his thumb hard into her clit, Will ground out, “or like this?”

Using his middle finger, Will thrust into her, feeling her core surround him in silken wetness. “Do you pretend its me doing this?” He quickened the pace, adding another finger, “its me now, though baby, me holding you. . . me touching you.“

Buffy convulsed around him, reacting as much to his words as his touch and he could feel the tremors coursing through her. She turned her head, nipping his chin, pulling at the skin with her teeth, licking the water from his face. He turned to kiss her, his lips and tongue playing with hers. She whispered his name, angling in his arms and he pulled back, even as his hand slid over her hip, fingers slipping into her pussy from behind. “Kitten. . . . wanna be inside you. . . wanna feel you around me. . . . “

“Will. Oh god, Will. . . need you.” He placed gentle kisses over her wet face, groaning when her warm hand circled his erection.

“Fuck. . . Buffy. . . . “ he jerked hard, nearly cuming at the first up and down slide of her hand, his grip on her leaving fingertip sized marks. He struggled to lift her soap slicked body in his arms, pressing hard to get purchase. “Need you baby. . . . so . . . “

Unable to grab a steady hold of her, Will pushed aside the shower curtain, spraying water all over the bathroom in his haste. Grabbing the first towels he could find, he wrapped one around her and let the other drop to the floor. Stepping out of the tub and turning off the water in the same motion, Will turned back to her and lifted Buffy into his arms. His mouth licked the water from her collarbone as he murmured softly, “gonna do you right, baby. . . gonna make you mine. . . . god I need you. . . “

“Need you too.” Buffy wrapped her arm around his neck as he cradled her in his arms. “Will, I missed you so much.”

He lurched into the hallway, into his bedroom, struggling to hold onto her and his desire. “Baby. . . . I missed you. So worried ‘bout you. . . . damn near lost m’mind.”

Will placed her gently down on his bed, smiling a little bit when her hands pulled him down after her. “Don’t leave me Will.”

“Never baby.” He kissed her, his tongue begging entry into her depths as his body settled atop hers. The towel separated them and Will pushed it up and away, his fingers sliding into her wet pussy. Her gasp of surprise stilled his urgent movements and Will broke off their kiss, letting his mouth rain kisses over her still wet skin. “Need you Buffy. . . . so fucking much.”

Nudging the towel down past her breasts, Will sucked a nipple into his mouth and Buffy nearly bucked him off her. “Oh god. . . Will!”

Silver light pulsed behind her closed eyes and nonsensical babblings spewed from her lips as he suckled her hyper-sensitive nipples. Two fingers surged inside her and Buffy’s inner walls clamped down, fluttering around his thrusting digits. His name peeled from her, high-pitched and quavering. Switching breasts, Will nudged her into prolonged orgasm, reveling in her responses.

Buffy writhed beneath him, unable to think, only conscious of waves of intense pleasure engulfing her. Every lick, every pull of his mouth on her breasts sent shock waves straight to her womb, tightening her around his thrusting fingers, blinding her to everything but him. She was frantic, nearly overcome.

Her body shook, trembling uncontrollably, her hands holding him to her, fingers digging into his skin. “Will. . . please. . . . Will.”

Teeth closed around her nipple and she screamed. Will slid his arms underneath her, his mouth seeking hers, hips sliding between hers. “Let me in. . . baby. . . . need inside.”

Cool lips covered her feverish ones and Will’s cock nudged against her clit, her nails digging into his hips. “Please, Will . . . please.”

Slipping one hand between them, Will positioned himself then paused, the head of his cock just resting inside her pussy. “Mine. . . Buffy. From this moment. . . . not letting you go.”

Her eyes were opened, staring up into his and she smiled up at him, her hand sliding down to where his was between them, where they were almost joined together. Buffy nodded, acknowledging his possession, her other hand wrapped around his neck. Her eyes widened as he pushed his way in, feeling the stretch and burn of her body struggling to accommodate his true size. Panting, she whispered, “yours. . . Will .. . always.”

Tears slid from her eyes and he braced himself on his elbows, slowly sliding inside her tight silky wetness. “Fuck. . . god. . . kitten. . . . so tight.”

“Will . . . oh. . .yours. . . only yours. . . wanna stay. . . “ her fingers dug into his ass, holding him against her. “Big. . . unnnhhhhh. . . Will . . . so big.”

She was tiny, inside and out, and her pussy was strangling his cock and he wasn’t going to last long because of it. He thrust inside her, a grunted gasp escaping from both of them. Sweat was dripping from him onto her and he slid one arm beneath her leg, changing the angle of his penetration and Will felt every centimeter of her surrounding him as he finally slid all the way inside her. “Fuck.”

Buffy shrieked as his cock bumped her cervix and hit the spongy mass inside her and Will lost all semblance of control. With short hard thrusts he pounded into her and they were both gasping desperately for air.

She nipped his chin and he grinned, diving in, his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss, his hips not ceasing their movement. Sliding his other arm under her leg, Will’s eyes nearly rolled back as he slid even more fully into her and Buffy gripped his shoulders, drawing blood. “Will . . . . Will!”

Her pussy tightened, fluttering around his cock and his control finally, truly shattered. Growling out her name as her orgasm triggered his, Will dropped her legs, collapsing atop her.

Buffy wrapped her shaking legs around him, even as he continued to thrust inside her. Gulping in heaving breaths, Will tried to get his body to move, but his muscles were mush, completely useless. Buffy gasped, arching up into him, her pussy clamping tightly around his soft cock. Every muscle was shaking and she couldn’t stop the tremors. Gathering her into his arms, Will rolled so they were lying face to face, her leg thrown over his hip. “Sshhhh. . . baby, ‘ve got you.”

“Will? Oh god, Will. . . can’t stop shaking.” Breathy and quavering, her voice bypassed his brain and went right to his cock, waking the insatiable beast.

“Aftershocks, kitten. Its okay.” Her tiny hand held onto his hip, the other cradled between them.

Will pulled her close, brushing strands of drying hair away from her features. A smile crossed his features, igniting a twinkle in his eyes. That smile blossomed into a full blown grin when she looked up at him, whispering, “can we do that for the next five or six hundred years?”

He chuckled, brushing a kiss on her lips. “Can do that forever if you want.”

She grinned back at him, flexing her hips. “Buffy wants. Does Will?”

“Fuck yeah.” He indicated his enthusiasm for the prospect by playfully slapping her ass.

**********************************************************************************

They’d cuddled for a bit, neither one inclined to move, until Buffy’s body made it’s other needs known. Her belly growled, embarrassing her, but Will shushed her, sliding from the bed as he asked her what she wanted to eat.

Without thinking too hard, she answered, “waffles? And bacon.”

Not batting an eye at her request, Will said, “got both if you don’t mind frozen and rashers.”
Her “huh?” prompted him to pull her from the bed. Tossing her one of his shirts, Will slid on a pair of sweats and dragged her into the kitchen.

Standing in front of the open freezer and refrigerator, Will tossed her a package of frozen waffles and grabbed the bacon. “Frozen waffles, pet, an’ rashers. Not bacon like you Yanks have. Looks like this.” Placing it under her nose, Will waited for her to refuse his offer.

Instead Buffy shrugged, asking, “got maple syrup?”

He grinned, pointing at the fridge. “Do you one better. Got that or strawberries an’ cream.”

A dreamy look crept into her eyes. “Oh. . . can I have all that?”

“Sure thing pet.”

And Will proceeded to cook her breakfast at two-thirty in the morning.

**********************************************************************************

Her belly full and body clean for the first time since she’d run away, Buffy burped, ending it in a helpless giggle, covering her mouth. Will raised an eyebrow, causing more giggles and she struggled to say “excuse me” through her laughter.

Will leaned back against the kitchen cabinets, just watching her, his eyes tracking her every movement. She seemed unchanged, although the pain and sadness in her eyes was still present, he knew it wasn’t because of him. Buffy glanced at him, feeling his steady gaze upon her and a blush bloomed across her skin, brightening her features. Shyly ducking her head, Buffy busied herself with picking at the remains of her breakfast, licking the maple syrup from her fingers. “Thank you.”

“For?” He shifted, crossing his arms and widening his stance.

“Everything.” She shrugged, unable to come up with anything more elaborate or eloquent. “For everything.”

“Haven’t done anything, kitten.”

She was shaking her head before the final words left his mouth. “No Will, not anything. You’ve done everything for me. You . . . take care of me. . . you. . “ She turned away from the table, looking up at him. “If I asked you to slay dragons for me, I think you’d find a way.”

His smile was lopsided, and he nodded his head, watching her. “I’d probably try.”

“See, that’s what I mean. You do everything. And I don’t know how to thank you.” Buffy shook her head, fighting sudden tears.

“Hey, shush.” Will pushed away from the counter, heading straight for her. Lifting her up into his arms, he cuddled her close.

“Sorry. I’m waterworks girl.” She laid her head down on his shoulder, toying with the curls at his nape.

His voice was a low rumble against her and it took her more than a minute to understand what he said. “I like you all wet.”

Her hand slapped playfully against his bare chest and Will let out a low yelp. Buffy giggled, saying, “that was bad.”

“Yeah, that’s me, sweetheart. Bad.” The leer in his voice wasn’t hard to miss and Buffy curled closer into his arms.

He felt her yawn and he carried her into his bedroom, saying, “let’s get you back into bed.”

“Mmmmm. Gonna stay with me?” Buffy kissed his jaw, nipping at his earlobe.

“Couldn’t drag me out.”

Her soft breath washed over him, raising goose-flesh on his arms. “Ooohhhhh. . . . Will?”
“Yeah, princess?” His answering rumble was a low murmur that made the bottom of her belly quiver.

“We . . . can we. . . You know?” Her hands were smoothing over his muscles and she pulled him closer, her mouth up against his ear.

“Baby, if you can’t say it. . . . “ Will threaded his hands through her hair, holding her away so that he could look into her eyes.

“I wanna feel you again. . . “

He smirked at her, his tongue poking out between his teeth, melting her insides. “Good enough for government work.”

Twenty-fourth. To feel the sun.

To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.
David Viscott, How to Live with Another Person

Love is everything it's cracked up to be…
It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.
Erica Jong, O Magazine, February 2004

There is no remedy for love but to love more.
Henry David Thoreau, Journal, July 25, 1839

The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength;
loving someone deeply gives you courage.
Lao-Tzu

This was love at first sight, love everlasting:
a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected- in so
far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness;
it took entire possession of him, and he understood,
with joyous amazement, that this was for life.
Thomas Mann


Despite the yawns, Buffy wasn’t really all that tired. What she had wanted was exactly what she got, to be back in bed, doing nothing but lying next to Will. Listening to the comforting thump of his heart beneath her ear, she drew random patterns on his skin, following the dip and folds, watching his chest rising and falling with each inhalation. His hand was doing the same to her back, his warm touch soothing her. They were lying in the rumpled sheets, their bodies replete after the second bout of sex, neither one of them inclined to talk.

There was too much that needed saying and yet nothing had to be verbalized – the situation they were now in couldn’t be avoided for long – but somehow neither one of them wanted to be the one to breach the bubble and shatter their current peace. That last indefinable line separating them as teacher and student had been crossed, leading them literally into no-man’s land, a place filled with dangers and pitfalls, where any misstep could lead them into disaster. Too many people already knew, or suspected about their relationship. What we need is time, Will thought, time to solidify things between us, before we have to face the rest of the bloody world.

He didn’t want to bring it up, didn’t want to have to deal with the repercussions of their actions – of facing exactly what he’d done by taking her into his bed, by loving her, by making love with her. But it was there, the proverbial elephant tucked away in the corner, and he knew he had to face it. Couldn’t hide from it forever. He doubted they could get through the weekend without bringing it up. Not that he wanted to run from it. He knew how he felt, knew what he wanted. Pretending otherwise was just going to cause him, and her, more heartbreak. And that he wasn’t willing to live with. Nah, not doing that.

Nor was he going to make the same mistake he’d made the last time she was here in his house, in his bed. This time, she was going to stay put. Here, in his arms, where she belonged. He wasn’t going to let her go, slip through his fingers like some illusory magical creature.

There were just a couple of things he needed to know, before he squared off against the rest of the world to fight for her. Just . . . a few. . . . “When’s your birthday?”

If she was confused by his question, she didn’t show it, because she answered right away, “the nineteenth.”

Will almost didn’t believe it. “Do you know what today is kitten?”

“Um. No.” She continued to run her fingers over his chest, unconcerned by his answer.

“Today’s the eighteenth.”

“Oh. Tomorrow I’ll be eighteen.” Her voice was so flat that Will stopped breathing, pulling her up so that their faces were close together and he could see into her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze.

He lifted up on one elbow, dumping her flat onto the mattress. “Buffy. Don’t lie to me.”

She tried to shrug, but their positions wouldn’t allow for the gesture, instead she looked away from him, then started speaking softly. ‘Never expected to be in . . . I’m gonna be eighteen and I’m pregnant. Baby’s father is a . . . big jerk, my father is . . . a jerk. I got thrown out of school. Nothing’s the way I thought it was gonna be.” She fought tears then whispered very softly, “the only good thing in my life is you.”

The back of his hand brushed over her cheek and Will waited a moment before speaking, trying to figure out how to say what he was feeling. “Look at me.”

Wet lashes covered her eyes and Buffy fought looking at him for a long moment, afraid that all she would find in his eyes was pity. His voice washed over her, his words like balm to her soul. “Your father is an ass. What he did, kitten, was so wrong that he better hope it’s a long time before I actually meet the man.” Her hand circled his wrist, her nails digging into his skin when his next words sounded in the air. “As for Riley Finn – he’s not . . . . he doesn’t deserve to be baby’s father.”

Her eyes flew open, desperate to find the truth in his gaze. “Neither of them deserves you princess, and your mum also has a bit to answer for. . . . “ His fingers grasped hers and Will inhaled deeply, gathering his courage. “I’m not sorry for any of this. Not sorry what brought you to me, b’cause you are my world, princess. I’m drowning an’ I don’t wanna be saved. I wanna . . . “

Will sat up, his bare hip brushing her shoulder and he turned to look down at her. “I meant it before, when I said you were mine. But I didn’t mean just you, Buffy, I meant both of you.” His hand rested possessively against her belly, his eyes never straying from hers. “Don’t care how or why this baby got here, or who supplied the DNA.” His voice took on a feral quality and she shivered from the intensity of his emotions. “You are mine. Both of you. And tomorrow dammit, I’m gonna marry you.”

She froze, uncertain of what she’d just heard, afraid she’d dreamed it or that she was asleep and still dreaming. Her eyes flew to his, and when she didn’t see doubt or anything other than the truth staring back at her, Buffy inhaled. Opening her mouth to say something, she stopped, then stared up at him again.

The silence was deep and all she could think was of him and his eyes, his arms, his body shielding her. “Will? Do you love me?”

“Do I?” A shaky laugh welled up from his chest. “ God kitten. . . . so much that I can’t breathe without you.”

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, dripping down her cheeks, pooling against his side as she buried her face against him. She was shaking, weeping, and Will couldn’t, didn’t know what to do, or what caused it. “Hey, ssshhh. . . please, baby, don’t cry.”

She was mumbling something incoherent against his skin and Will dropped down beside her, his arms circling her and holding her. “Please, baby. . . . talk to me.“

”I. . . oh god. . . I love you too.” Buffy clutched at him, her tears overwhelming her, the shaking increasing as her emotions crashed. It was too much, the stresses of the last couple of weeks hitting her all at once and Buffy couldn’t stop her body’s reactions.

Will rolled over her, his body trapping hers, and Buffy’s legs automatically wrapped around him. She was sore, her tiny body unused to his size, and she flinched markedly when he slid his erection into her depths. “Sshhhh. . . ‘ve got you baby. Not letting go.”

He didn’t move, just held fast within her, assuring her with his body what his words couldn’t do. His lips caught her tears, swallowing them, washing away her sorrow, slowly, inexorably replacing it with peace and, much later, joy.

******************************************************************

Hours later he woke, to the odd sensation of being trapped, unable to move any of his limbs. Will cracked open an eye, his mind unclear until he glimpsed the dark golden hair spread across his pillow. Spun gold strands caught and held the winter sunlight streaming through his window and Will tightened his hold on her, his hips flexing into her. His fingers tightened around the curve of her ass and Will rocked his burgeoning erection into the cradle of her thighs.

Sometime during the early morning hours, he’d rolled onto his side, bringing her with him. After he’d made his impassioned declaration, they’d made slow languid love, his cock barely moving within her until their simultaneous orgasms washed over them, lulling them into healing sleep.

Buffy was still slumbering, her breasts brushing against his chest, her entire form pressed against him. Will curled his bigger leg over hers, anchoring her to him. His eyes settled on her still sleeping face and he leaned forward to brush feather-soft kisses over her. Buffy woke to the feeling of his lips moving gently over her face, though she kept her eyes closed. Not in fear this time, no, this time she wanted this sweet moment to never end, wanted to bask in the glow, to feel for just a little longer how much he loved her.

Slowly and oh-so reluctantly, Buffy opened her eyes.

“And Sleeping Beauty awakens.” Will leaned a little away so that he could look into her eyes.

“Guess that makes you Prince Charming?” His grin was more of a smirk but Buffy didn’t mind. For the first time in a very long while she felt safe and warm and loved. “Or should I call you Prince Handsome?”

He snorted, mock grumbling at her. “Makes me sound like a prat.”

Her quizzical expression softened him. “A jerk. Sort of. . . hard to . . yeah. Nevermind.”

“Ahuh.” Buffy gripped his bicep, her hand squeezing tight. A sudden serious light entered her eyes. “Will? Did you mean what you said before?”

Without wondering why she was asking or what specifically she was referring too, Will replied. “Every last word.”

“Um. . . when you said. .. . that thing about marrying. Did you really mean today?”

The look on her face was one he’d never seen before and now he was curious. “Why?”

She blushed, ducking her head shyly. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“Promise.” He waited for her to explain, but when the silence drew out between them, he prompted her. “What is it?”

Her voice was shy and somewhat strained. “Can I go shopping first? I don’t have much money but I don’t wanna get married in any of the clothes I have and I promise I’ll pay you back.”

“No.”

She nearly burst into tears and she started to ask him why, but he cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice was thick with emotion. “Sorry. Didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I . . . you don’t have to worry ‘bout money. You pick out whatever you want to wear. Hell, you get a whole brand new whatever you want. Jus’ no talk of payin’ me back.”

Buffy nodded once, unable to speak. Will rolled away from her then got up out of bed. He was talking, but she wasn’t paying attention to his words until he sat down beside her, a serious look on his face and something enclosed in one of his hands. “Buffy? You with me?”

“Yup. Paying attention girl.”

Reaching for her left hand, Will said, “was going to wait, till it was safe, until you were out of school, but I can’t. ‘ve had this since before Christmas.” He opened his hand and there, resting on his palm, was a diamond ring.

Buffy stared down at it, her breath caught in her throat. The only thing she could focus on was what he’d just said. “Before Christmas?”

“Yeah.” He drew the word out, making it sound like a confession of sorts. Which it was. “It’s yours kitten, whether you wanna get married today, tomorrow, in a week, or five or six hundred years from now, doesn’t matter. Marry me kitten. . . . please?”

With a very unsteady hand, Buffy tentatively reached for it. Her fingers brushed over it, skimming over his skin, sending bolts of awareness through them both. Lifting tear-filled eyes to his, Buffy smiled, whispering, “put it on me. . . . And yes, Will. Yes.”

Hauling her into a sitting position, Will took her left hand in his bigger one and gently pushed the diamond onto her finger.

Meshing their hands together, Will gathered her into his arms, kissing her deeply.

***********************************************************************

Sometime during the day, they managed to move into the living room, though neither one of them was much inclined to do a whole lot more than that. Will had put some of her clothes into the wash with his and other than getting them both something to drink, that was the full extent of what he felt absolutely needed to be done. There was an array of snacks laid out on the coffee table and Buffy was curled up under a blanket, her head resting on the couch’s arm, her eyes on the television, when he came back from tending to the laundry. She lifted her arm, reaching for a pretzel and the light caught a diamond facet and he couldn’t help the huge grin that had found itself plastered all over his face.

She’s nearly mine. Not gonna let anything or anyone take her away from me. Don’t care what this . . not gonna worry about the school. Not until we have to face it. He looked up at the ceiling, realizing that facing it might happen sooner than he wanted. It would be a lot easier if he had some sort of legal standing with her before the shit hit the fan, because that was inevitable or at the very least, highly probable. He didn’t think he could keep her presence in his house a secret from Rupert very long and he figured she’d want to tell Willow that she was safe and where she was. Given those two factors alone, sooner or later, one of them was bound to spill their story. And once the story was out, he’d probably be fired. But he was prepared for that, so long as he knew things with her were settled. He could always find another job – wasn’t like his credentials weren’t top notch. But he knew, or at least thought he did, that she wanted to stay in Sunnydale. Maybe she doesn’t. . . . if it comes down to a move we have to make. . . .

Will pushed those thoughts aside. Wouldn’t pay to get focused on that far ahead. First things first, mate. Gotta make this all proper before we take on the world. He rounded the couch, idly noting that she was flipping through the channels, and he leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips before heading to the stack of DVDs he had. “Would you rather watch a movie?”

“Sure. As long as its not something dopey.” She shifted, starting to sit up, when Kennedy’s growl froze her movements.

“Define dopey, pet.” His back was still to her, so he couldn’t see what the dog was doing, but Buffy didn’t do anything more than speak. “Kennedy shut up.”

“I dunno. Just nothing stupid.”

Pulling one from the stack, Will flipped open the player and turned to face her. The damn dog was snarling soundlessly, teeth bared and slop dripping from her fangs, body poised to attack Buffy. “What the fuck? Kennedy! Knock it off.”

Will moved toward the dog and Buffy moved again, and instead of backing down from her master, the dog growled again and snapped at her. “Kennedy!”

Grabbing the dog’s collar, Will lifted the terrier off the floor and dragged her from the room, muttering about ungrateful mutts all the while. Buffy was watching him and though she wanted to tell him to be nice to the dog, she had been too shaken up by the dog’s reaction.

He came back into the room quickly, scooping her up off the couch into his arms. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His nose nuzzled against her hair and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her head resting against his face. “That was weird.”

“Damn dog doesn’t like anyone. If she doesn’t knock it off, she’s gonna find herself without a home.”

Buffy softly slapped his back, admonishing him a bit. “That’s not nice.”

“If it comes down to a choice between you two, the dog goes.” He sat down on the couch, dragging the blanket up over both of them, then settled down to watch the movie. Buffy settled next to him, pulled his arms around her, and got comfortable.

“Underworld? We’re gonna watch vampires and werewolves?” She huffed a bit, rolling her eyes at him. “You just wanna watch this because you think Kate what’s her name is hot.”

“Well yeah, of course. Is there any other reason to watch this?”

She thought for a minute, then said, “fine, but I get to pick the next one.”

“Whatever you say kitten.”

***********************************************************************

After suffering through nearly two hours of Paul Walker, which had been Buffy’s choice, Will got up to actually fix them something to eat, since Buffy’s belly had been making grumbling noises during the last half hour of the Fast and the Furious. She tried telling him she wasn’t all that hungry, but he just raised an eyebrow in her direction when the growls rumbled through her.

Fixing pasta, Will insisted she sit and do nothing, but Buffy couldn’t sit still very long and she was up helping him before he realized it. They worked well together, their movements smooth, unconsciously adapting to each other, and at one point it felt like this was something they’d been doing for a very long time. Unwilling to disturb the peaceful mood, but knowing they were going to have to discuss it sooner or later, and now, when they were both relaxed and awake, was as good a time as any, Will finally composed his thoughts.

Stirring the sauce, Will turned to eye her as she chopped up vegetables for salad. “Are you going to call Willow, let her know you’re okay?”

Buffy shrugged, dumping the peppers into the bowl, then grabbing a cucumber. “I guess. Maybe tomorrow.”

He stopped, reaching out to touch her arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just don’t wanna have to talk about this with anyone but you right now. Willow’s great, but. . . “ she shrugged again, not really looking at him.

“Buffy, you don’t have to pretend with me.” His arms came around her from behind and she leaned into his chest, resting her head against his shoulder.

“I know. She just doesn’t get what I’m going through. I can’t pretend that everything is okay and that things are gonna be normal by next Tuesday, because my life? Not so big on the normal.”

Will dropped a kiss on her shoulder, holding her for a long moment, then letting her go. “I understand.”

“Glad you do, because I’m not always sure I do.” Buffy spoke from the depths of the refrigerator, while she searched for something else to put in the salad. “You got any meatballs or something?”

“Added meat to the sauce.” He was going to have to break down and tell her that Rupert knew and he braced himself for her blow up. “Giles knows.”

She didn’t miss a beat, countering him with, “have you called Drusilla?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “Yeah. I did. She wanted to know if, she asked me if Peaches should come down and help look.”

Buffy glanced over the top of the refrigerator door at that. “Who is Peaches?”

“Liam. Dru’s dead weight husband.”

“Why do you call him Peaches?” She stared at him, waiting for an explanation, curiosity written large on her face.

Will glanced away, trying to decide what to tell her. Ah well, she might as well know. “Coz when we were younger, he bared his arse and well, he had peach fuzz on it. ‘S been Peaches ever since.”

Buffy exploded in giggles, doubling over with mirth. “Oh my god. That’s . . . that’s really funny.”

It took her long minutes to calm down and she had to keep wiping her eyes. “So when did you tell Giles?”

“Didn’t. He sussed it out on his own. Came to me and offered to help search the other night.” Will watched her closely gauging her reaction. When no angry or tear-filled outburst came, he said, “he doesn’t know for certain how . . . what. . . all the bloody details, pet, but he’s liable to put it all together in his head.”

“So you’re telling me that the only people who know are Willow, Mr. Giles and Drusilla?” Buffy looked down at the floor, biting her lower lip. “And my mom thinks I’ve been hiding out at Will’s for the past two weeks.”

“That about sums it up.” He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes intent upon her face.

“Will? Are you sure Xander doesn’t know? Or Cordelia?”

“Harris knows you were missing, doesn’t know about us. Far as I know Cordelia knows what the whelp does. Beyond that, don’t think anyone else has been paying all that close attention.” She finally closed the refrigerator door, then rested a small hand on his crossed arms.

“So we have some time then, right?” At his reluctant nod, Buffy smiled. “Which means I can shop before we . . . . where do you wanna get married?”

“Was thinking we could head to Vegas in the morning.” Her face fell and he reached out to brush a hand over her hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we wait until next weekend?” She was back to biting her lip, which he found completely riveting, his eyes focused intently on them.

“Baby, I think we,” he paused, his eyes roving over her face. “I want do this soon as possible, but if you really want to wait the week, we will.”

“Please? I’m so . . . I, just.” She rested her head on his arms and Will opened them to embrace her. “I’m still exhausted and I probably wouldn’t be much fun this weekend if we had to go. And besides, we can leave Friday and get married on Saturday and then come home Sunday, right?”

He couldn’t resist her when she looked at him like that. “We could do that. It’s a five hour drive, kitten. Would you rather fly?”

“I’ll leave that up to you. I can’t drive, so its whatever you wanna do.”

He thought about it for a few minutes, then said, “we’ll fly.”

“So can we go shopping tomorrow?” The prospect had her eyes lighting up and Will mentally calculated his bank balances.

“Sure kitten, we can do that.”

“Yippeee!” She hugged him tight, making a face when her stomach growled again. “Need food. Feed me.”

“Greedy wench.” He swung her up into his arms, dropping her down on the counter top. “Dinner’ll be ready in five.”