The first thing Spike did was calling Buffy’s cell phone, hoping she’d pick up, but when she didn’t, he slammed the phone down in frustration and began pacing.
Where would she go? he asked himself. No, the main question is why would she go? The only thing her note said was that she needed time to think about things and that she was sorry.
He grabbed his coat and stormed out of his flat, walking down the street and going into a bar, sitting down at a table and ordering a beer.
After a few minutes, he saw Drusilla and Xander walk in and cursed fate for making their paths cross again.
Today truly is a horrible day.
“Well, if it isn’t William,” Drusilla said as she approached his table, Xander following her. “Where’s Betty?”
“Buffy,” both Xander and Spike said in unison before giving each other scathing looks.
“Is she here?” Dru asked, looking around. “I want to apologize to her for our meeting earlier.”
“No, you don’t,” Spike replied, angry. “There isn’t an apologetic bone in your body- trust me, I know.”
“Not my fault that she’s so sensitive,” Dru said, crossing her arms. “Besides, my art deserves to be sold in the States- she could help me with that.” She began looking around again. “Where is she?”
“Gone,” Spike answered, standing up and putting money on the table. “Have a drink, on me- I hope you both choke on it.”
He walked out and ignored Drusilla’s voice as she called after him.
He returned to his apartment and sat down on his couch, turning on the television and flipping through channels, trying to get his mind off of Buffy, which was a useless effort.
As the sun went down, Spike became more upset about the situation with Buffy and tried calling her again, but this time, her cell phone was turned off.
“Bloody bint,” he muttered, hanging up. “I need to know where she went. There has to be someone I can talk to.”
It was then that he had an idea and grabbed the phone again, going through an operator to call Buffy’s gallery. When he heard someone answer, he sighed with relief, happy that he might be able to find a way to track her down.
“Is this Anya?” Spike asked, hoping she didn’t notice the desperate tone in his voice.
“Yes, it is,” she replied, sounding confused. “Who is this?”
“Spike,” he answered. “Anya, have you by any chance heard from Buffy?”
“Why are you calling here?” Anya asked, sounding annoyed.
“I need to speak to her,” he answered. “Please tell me where she is.”
“Paris,” Anya said in a hushed tone.
“What?” Spike asked loudly, his eyes widening.
“She called her mom a couple of hours ago and told her that she hopped on a flight to Paris,” Anya explained quietly. “Apparently, she wants to clear her head a bit before she comes home.” She hesitated. “She didn’t tell Joyce what happened to make her want to go to Paris, but I know something went wrong, Spike. Buffy was supposed to go to Ireland and Scotland after she left London, so tell me why she would’ve gone to Paris to ‘clear her head’?”
“How the hell should I know?” Spike asked, practically shouting, clenching his jaw. “Why would I call if I knew she went to France?”
“What happened there?” Anya asked, worried. “If you hurt her, I swear I will fly to England and eviscerate you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Spike replied, sighing. “She and I… slept together.”
“Buffy got laid?” Anya asked, sounding excited. “Good for you two!”
“We fell asleep afterwards, and when I woke up, she was gone,” Spike said, looking down. “She left me a note that said she didn’t think things could work out for us because of the long-distance thing and that she was sorry for what happened.”
“For sleeping with you?” Anya asked.
“That’s what it seems like, yeah,” Spike answered. “She regrets being with me. I mean, I don’t understand how in the course of twenty-four hours, we decide to date and then she leaves me.”
“Spike, let me fill you in a little on my friend Buffy,” Anya said. “She has relationship issues, some of which I’m sure she’s told you about, right?”
“Just stuff about what happened with Xander,” he answered.
“Then you know how hurt she was by him and why she’s been skittish of dating men since then,” Anya replied.
“I’m not like him!” Spike said, becoming angry.
“I never said you were,” Anya said calmly. “Here’s what I figure, although I’m in the dark nearly as much as you are- she’s running scared.”
“Of what?” he asked. “Me?”
“Knowing Buffy as much as I do, I think she was happy with you but became scared that you’d hurt her like Xander did,” Anya answered. “Or, there’s another scenario.”
“And that would be what?” Spike asked, tilting his head.
“She realized that the fairytale romance you two had going in London wouldn’t last after she left and bailed before it became too hard to walk away from,” she said. “Though I’m sure it was hard enough for her to leave you today, in the first place.”
“So you think she left because it was beginning to be too good for us here?” he asked, confused.
“I think her leaving was a defense mechanism,” she answered. “The last thing Buffy wants is for her heart to be broken again, and I think that she might have left because she wanted to keep that from happening.” She hesitated. “Breaking someone else’s heart is a lot easier than someone breaking yours, you know?”
“Yes, but-”
“Not that she purposely broke your heart,” Anya said quickly. “If I had to guess why she left, I’d say it’s because she was trying to save her heart from being torn out again.”
“I wouldn’t have done that to her,” he replied sadly.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have,” Anya said. “But Buffy can be paranoid- she’s been hurt too much in her life.” She paused for a long moment. “Spike, do us all a favor and figure things out with her- she deserves to be happy.”
“I know that,” he said. “But what do you suggest I do? I can’t force her to come back or to be with me.”
“She’s flying home in three days,” she replied cryptically. “Use that information wisely.”
Before he could ask what she meant, he heard her hang up on the other line. He frowned and looked around his apartment as a flood of thoughts filled his head.
Buffy will be back in L.A. on Saturday, he said to himself. What do I do now? Come on, you wanker- the ball’s in your court. Figure out a way to use it.
* * * * *
Saturday afternoon, Buffy walked into the gallery and pasted a smile on her face as she saw Anya exit her office.
“Hey,” Buffy said, hoping she sounded cheerful and not as melancholy as she felt.
“Hi,” Anya replied, hugging her. “How was France?”
“Interesting,” she answered. “I saw a lot of priceless pieces of art, which is always wonderful. How’s the gallery?”
“Afloat… for now,” Anya said, beginning to walk towards the office, Buffy beside her. “You should talk to your mom more about that- I only know so much.”
“So, what’ve you been up to?” Buffy asked, trying to avoid the subject of why she had left London days earlier than she was expected to in order to go to Paris.
I don’t think I’m ready to talk to anyone about that yet, she thought, nearing the door of the office.
“Keeping your visitor entertained,” Anya said, leaning against the doorframe.
“My visitor?” Buffy asked, confused.
Anya motioned to the inside of the office, and Buffy’s jaw dropped when she saw who was sitting on top of her desk.
“Hello, cutie.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for all of the reviews after the last chapter! I hope you will stick with me as the story continues. Enjoy the chapter, and have a good weekend! :)