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William opened the door to the suite and stormed inside towards the privacy of his room. He needed a moment, just a moment, he assured himself, to get his emotions back under control. The cool way she’d treated him, the clear dismissal, and worst of all the calm denial that she’d ever cared for him had cut him to the bone.

If she’d been more vehement in her rejection, more full of the fire he knew lurked beneath the calm exterior she showed to the world, he might have questioned her sincerity. But her calm dismissal of what had passed between them had crumbled the foundations of the castles he now knew were built on air.

And their demise left him feeling empty and numb. There was anger in there, a part of him that wanted to go back and take her in his arms, kiss her senseless and force her to acknowledge there was something between them. But the numbness at her rejection overrode that crazy notion.

So he’d do what he’d always done in the past when life disappointed him. He’d take a moment, get himself together, and push on. No looking back. He wasn’t going to beg and plead and be her lap dog. A part of him knew that there was fault on both sides in this, he should have been up front with her from the beginning about the arrangement with Harmony. But if he had, they’d have never come to this place at all, she’d have never let him in to start with. And if she’d never let him in, he’d never have realized how much he loved her. Which brought it all back around in a confusing circle.

A circle he wasn’t going to think about now. There’d be time in the coming nights to ponder this further. Right now, he needed to move on or he’d be a crying nancy boy in moments.

He’d almost made it into his room when the rustle of skirts emerging from the other bedroom connected to the small sitting area alerted him that he wasn’t alone.

"William, you’re back! Did you get Dawn settled? Did she like the school?"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob. Best to just answer Willow’s question, get it over with. He focused on keeping his voice steady. "She’s fine. Seems to be taking to the place. Miss Greenlee had an older girl picked out, she’ll tutor Dawn and whatall. She’s promised to write to us, give us updates. I think she’ll be happy once she’s had a few days to settle into the place."

"That’s wonderful." Tara’s quieter tone carried across the room. He knew the smartest thing to do was just to get away from them right now, before they probed and prodded and made him talk. He really didn’t want to talk.

Except he had to know. He turned around. "Did you know she was going to be there? Did you?"

The blank look on their faces answered his question. At least he wasn’t the only one she’d left in the dark. "Never mind."

But he’d piqued their curiosity and they were hot on his heels now, drawing him back to perch on the mostly ornamental sofa, flanked by two determined females.

"William, what’s going on, who did you see? Miss Greenlee?"

"Yes, that’s who I saw." He changed the subject abruptly. "Would it be possible for you to be packed up so that we could leave this evening? I’ve arranged to meet with the Chesterfields in an hour and I have no other appointments here. I though we might make an earlier start back, if that’s alright with both of you."

The two girls exchanged brief, but amused, glances.

"Eager to get back to Buffy?" Willow smiled at him and was startled as the vehemence in his reply.

"No." He rose and headed for the door, but they were quick as a hound after a hare.

"William, wait, what’s happened?" Willow caught his arm as he reached the door.

He shrugged. Best get it over with, they’d find out soon enough. "Buffy’s here, she’s taken a position at Miss Greenlee’s."

It was clear this turn of events was as confusing to Willow and Tara as it was to him.

"She’s teaching here? When did she arrive?" Tara asked.

"Not long ago. We had a little chat, she made it clear that she intended to stay here and that’s that." His jaw clenched tightly as he kept his emotions under control. "Now I’d best be off."

"William, no wait a minute." Willow laid a hand on his arm again, and he stood foolishly between them. "Buffy has a tendency to get frightened and I’m sure running away up here was something she’ll know was a mistake, if you just tell her how you feel. You can explain everything to her, just like you planned. It’s just a lover’s quarrel."

He laughed then, a sharp, hoarse bark that was devoid of mirth. "I don’t have to tell her Willow. She was very clear on her feelings for me."

"And what were those?" He was surprised that she’d had the voice to ask him, but the fairer of the pair that had him cornered was watching him with her big eyes, sure there was a happy ending hidden in there somewhere.

"She doesn’t care for me, doesn’t . . .love me."

"No William, don’t say that, Buffy’s just being stubborn. Let me go and visit with her, talk to her. I know she’ll come around if she only hears everything you’ve done and are doing to make things right"

He shook his head. "Just leave it be, please Willow. She made her choice, I won’t try to change it." He looked her square in the eye. "Promise me you won’t go talk to her."

He noted the stubborn look on her face and added a plea. "Willow, please. Don’t go to her. Perhaps we’re better off this way, before we hurt each other any more."

It was easy to see he was lapsing into quite a funk before their eyes. Willow and Tara exchanged a silent glance behind his back.

"Very well, William. We won’t talk with her, you have our word. And we’ll see to getting things packed here and moved to the ship. We’ll see you there this evening."

He clasped one of each of their hands loosely in his. "Thank you both. You’ve been kind to listen. Let’s not speak of this again."

As soon as the door shut behind him, Willow headed for their room to gather outerwear and hats for them both, her eyes sparkling in the way they did when she had an idea. Tara followed more slowly. "Willow, you promised William that you wouldn’t speak to Buffy. We aren’t going to see her, are we?"

"No, I gave him my word. No talking to Buffy. We’re going to do something even better."

Tara eyed her suspiciously. "Willow, what are you planning?"

Willow raised her hand as though to waive away the concern in Tara’s voice. "I know Buffy when she gets like this, stubborn as a mule and no amount of persuasion from us will change her mind. She’s convinced herself she has to be out of his way. Don’t you see Tara? That means she really does love him."

Tara looked perplexed. "She left because she loved him?"

"Exactly. If she hadn’t cared, she would never had felt she needed to run away. She’d afraid of him, of what he can make her feel. After Angel, she didn’t want anyone to make her feel again. But William has. We can’t allow her to ignore that, Tara, to run away from true love."

Tara nodded slowly, still skeptical. "I see that. But how will you convince her to come back to Charleston? Should we go convince William to try speaking with her again?"

Willow shook her head, a devious glint in her eyes. "He’s as bad as Buffy in his own way. No, the better solution is to force them to talk things out, clear the air. And where’s a better place to do that than on a voyage at sea? They can’t ignore each other then."

Tara finished tying her bonnet strings as they closed the door to the suite. "Willow, you promised not to speak with her. Besides, Buffy’s not going to agree to come back with us."

"Oh, I know. We’re just not going to give her the choice." Willow’s grin turned impish as she watched Tara’s eyes widen as she realized just exactly what was in the works.

"Why Miss Rosen, are you planning what I think you’re planning?"

Willow giggled. "Yes, Miss McClay, I am. We’re about to become kidnappers."

~~~~~~~~~~

The afternoon classes had dragged by and Buffy was relieved when the clock finally reached the point where Mrs. Bishop dismissed the group. She felt drained, as though all the things that made life sparkle had suddenly gone. She should go find Dawn, she must be here now, but she needed to pull herself together before that.

Maybe a bit of a lie-down would help. She hated to think she was sulking in her room over this, but her nerves were on edge, her mind replaying over and over again the confrontation in the garden. What would she have done if he’d called her bluff, taken her in his arms and kissed her senseless? Begged her to come back, to be his? She was so pathetic. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to refuse, she’d almost gone after him as it was.

She heard a knock out in the common room that served as the sitting area for the teachers who shared the small cottage with her and the attendant sound of someone answering the door. Then a knock sounded at her door. She rose and straightened her skirts as she went to open it.

"Elizabeth, there’s a gentlemen here with a note, says it’s urgent."

She took the folded piece of paper and saw familiar handwriting, Tara’s careful precise script. Her eyes scanned the page. Willow taken very ill, please, can you come help?

She hurried out to find the man she vaguely remembered from William’s ship sitting and waiting. "Mr. Clement?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Miss Willow, is she alright?"

He shook his head. "I don’t rightly know ma’am, Miss Tara, she just came up and asked if I could bring that note to you, she seemed all kind of concerned."

"Have they summoned a doctor? Or her family?"

"I’m sorry ma’am, she just asked if I would hurry and find you. She said you’d know what to do."

"Well, wait just a moment, let me get my things." She hurried in and gathered her wrap and purse, snatched up a blanket.

"Ellen, I’ll be back in a bit, my cousin’s taken ill and I must go see to her." The other woman nodded and Buffy hurried out with Clement.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"They said they’d be in the captain’s cabin I believe, ma’am."

They had reached the ship in record time, the stately Anne that floated in the harbor. There was much bustling and loading about it, but she ignored the confusion, intent of getting aboard. He was likely to be there, must have told Tara she was here, but she’d cross that bridge later. Her stomach twisted at the thought of Willow being ill.

She remembered where the captain’s cabin was, where she’d had her little heart to heart with William so many weeks ago and she knocked softly at the door before pushing it open. The room was empty, save for a bundle curled under the blankets on the bunk in the corner.

She hurried across the room. "Willow, are you . . ."

And then she heard the door shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Finn? He’s at a farm about another half day up the river. I wondered when they were going to send someone after him. The boy’s taken pretty bad, last I heard."

"That’s what we’d been told. Mr. Randolph, I thought he was to come stay here with you?" Wesley asked the lanky man as they stood on the small river dock.

Randolph nodded. "He did, for the first bit. But making bricks is hardly a scintillating activity." He smiled. "Once he was satisfied that the operations were proper, he said he was going to scout out the area, make some new maps of the swamp region up river."

"And that’s where he was taken ill?"

Randolph nodded.

Xander spoke. "Would you be able to give us directions to the cabin where he was staying?"

"I should be able to, he lodged up there with the Fosters, they aren’t too hard to find."

Randoph paused, "If I might ask, you two don’t appear to be with the U.S. Army. Why are you so set on finding Finn?"

"His wife is a friend of ours and she just found out she was expecting. When we heard of his illness, she asked us to try to find him."

His face softened as he listened to their story. "I didn’t know Finn had a wife, poor thing. Well I expect she’ll be wanting his kit he left here as well."

Wesley and Xander exchanged glances. "Yes, that’d be wonderful. Do you still have it?"

"Sure, come up to the house with me and we’ll get it."

They strolled from the dock up towards the large home that graced the swell of a hill, chatting about the latest news in Charleston, where Randolph kept a home, and the business interests he had there. He was clearly intrigued by the new option they offered in the local shipping community.

"Would you care to stay the night and make a fresh start in the morning? It’s getting late in the day, you wouldn’t be able to reach the Fosters before nightfall."

Wesley and Xander exchanged a glance. They didn’t wish to delay, but Randolph’s suggestion made sense.

"That would be most hospitable of you."

"Excellent, I’ll have you shown to your rooms and Finn’s kit brought to you. We’ll have a causal supper and I look forward to talking with you more."

He excused himself and they were led to their rooms. Within moments, a dark skinned girl appeared at the door and handed them the bundle of Finn’s belongings. Wesley rapidly flipped through the papers and found what he was searching for quickly.

"He did carry it with him." He held up the marriage certificate in triumph. "Dated and witnessed." He eyed the paper. "So do we head back? Or go on after him? This is sufficient for what we need."

Xander looked at the paper. "You know, it may seem like a wild goose chase, but I think we should go. I can’t say I hold a great deal of love for the Wilkins family in my heart, but she seemed to really be quite taken with this boy. I know Harmony’d like to know for sure how he is, and what it means for her and the child."

Wesley nodded. "So we’ll push on in the morning?"

"I think so." He smiled. "Am I turning into a sentimental fool, Wes?"

Wesley chuckled. "I’ve heard love will do that to a man."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy whirled to the door. And then looked again at the bed. She marched across to the bundle of blankets and pulled back the covers with a flourish to reveal nothing more than a mound of blankets and pillows.

Her shriek would have been heard back to Boston if the Anne hadn’t been such a well-built ship.

She retreated back to the door, trying the handle which refused to give, then pounding on the unforgiving wood in frustration. "William! You’d best let me out of here now."

But there was no sound from the other side of the door. She paced back and forth, her fury increasing with every step. How dare he do this? Trick her into coming on board ship and locking her in his cabin. Did he really think she’d be more inclined to talk with him now?

And then it hit her and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. Was he planning to take her back to Charleston? Just cart her off like, like some sort of cargo? Had she ever thought she loved this scheming, nefarious . . . pirate?

She bit her lip so hard she drew blood as her eyes narrowed and she paced back to the door. She might not be able to get out it now, but he’d best watch his step when he came through it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

William made it back to the ship with only moments to spare before the tide began to change and they needed to draw anchor and begin the voyage. He’d sent a final note to Dawn, and included a little extra pocket change for her first bit of allowance, and then, ignoring the pull to go back and try to plead his case with Buffy one last time, he bade Boston farewell.

The crew offered him some strange looks as the flurry of leaving port went on around him, but he ignored them as he headed to his cabin. Clem would have everything under control, and all he wanted was a stiff drink and time to himself. He thought briefly about finding Willow and Tara, but dismissed the idea. They’d likely want to chat more, and he just wasn’t up to it at the moment.

He found the door to his cabin locked from the outside, an unusual occurrence, but he shrugged, turned the large key and unlocked the door as he swung it open to find himself with an armful of very angry Buffy.

"You bastard." She slapped his face and tried to wriggle around him as he stood planted in the doorway. He caught her just as one of the sailors rounded the corner and gawked at the pair in the doorway. William glared and shut the door behind them as he lifted her back into the cabin for privacy. He still wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but he intended to find out.

"Let me go." She squirmed again against him, her voice laced with venom.

He finally found his voice. "Buffy? What are you doing here?"

She gave up the struggle for the moment as she hissed at him, "Oh, that’s most amusing, Mr. Montgomery. You trick me, kidnap me, and then want to know why I’m here? Why don’t you tell me? Or better yet, let me off this ship?"

He stared at her, chest heaving from her exertions, hair falling down for that prim little hairstyle that must be her teacher look, and all he wanted to do was kiss her silly. He strongly suspected she’d bite his tongue if he did so, so he refrained. Then her words filtered through. Kidnap her?

"Buffy, I didn’t kidnap you."

She pulled away from him them and marched to the bed, pointing to the disordered mess. "So what do you call this?"

Had she become a bit touched in the head? He sincerely hoped not. "My bunk?"

She stomped her foot. "No, the body?"

"The body?" He was starting to worry now.

"Yes, the body. Willow? My ‘sick’ cousin who you lured me here with? Who clearly isn’t ill." The look she gave him was full of reproach that cut him even though he was entirely innocent. "How could you do that, William?"

Oh. Oh. It was becoming clear to him what had happened.

"Buffy?" The big sad eyes were now filling with tears. "No, sweetheart, don’t cry."

She wiped at her eyes furiously. "Don’t call me sweetheart."

Right, endearments later. "Buffy, I didn’t do this. I’ve been in town all day since I left you, I didn’t ask you out here or lock you in. But I think I know who did."

She looked at the blankets again and then back to him. "She wouldn’t?"

"I think she might. What do you say we go have a little talk with your cousin?"

She searched his face. Either he was a very convincing liar, or she was going to have to strangle her cousin, because he looked remarkably guileless and had seemed as confused by her presence as she was.

"Very well. Let’s go speak with Willow. And then I want off this ship."

He briefly wondered if he should mention they were already headed out of port, but decided against it. While he wouldn’t have pulled this little stunt, he was a firm believer in making the most of one’s opportunities. And Buffy being here was clearly a heaven-sent one.

Maybe there was a chance to change her mind after all.





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