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A couple of things to alleviate some of your fears:
The Trio will not be breaking up. Ever. They're immortal and staying together until the end of time.
Buffy has probably not been in the place as long as you think. Then agian maybe she has...my intention is to keep you uncertain because SHE doesn't know, and that confusion and desire to know is exactly what she's feeling.
They're not going to do anything to Buffy; no beatings, no rapes, no bashing over the head with nerf bats.
She will be found. I know how, when, where, and why. I even know who.


Spike and Will sprinted to the door when the heard the bell, hoping against reason that Buffy had miraculously turned up. It had been three long, excruciating hours of waiting after they’d gotten their instructions from Gunn. Willow and Tara stood before them, strained smile on their faces.

“We thought we could keep you company,” Willow said a bit nervously. “I brought cookies.”

Spike and Will stared at the bursting bag with dull comprehension.

“S-s-she started b-baking right after you called,” Tara added softly. Spike nodded and opened the door wider for them, heading despondently back to the couch. He stared into oblivion, trying to ignore the panicky ache in his chest. Will sat next to him, in a similar state. A soft, warm hand enveloped their own.

Tara smiled softly as twin pairs of cerulean blue eyes, filled with pain and fear, looked at her.

“We’re going to find her.” There was no sign of a stutter, no hint of timidity. Tara was stating fact, a fact she believed with all of her heart.

“Thanks, Glinda,” Spike said with a heartfelt smile. Will nodded to her, his hand searching for Spike’s. She was right. They were going to get through this. They were going to find Buffy, and whoever did this, and everything would be right in the world again. Willow came back in, a plate brimming with cookies.

“Cookies?” she asked, her cheery voice a mask for her deep concern. The twins both took one, though they tasted like ash.

The doorbell rang again, but Faith didn’t wait for anyone to come to the door. She strode in with Robin right on her heels.

“Anything new?” she asked without preamble. Spike shook his head in the negative. Faith plopped down on an available chair and snagged a cookie. “Then I guess we’re waiting.”

Lorne showed up at the apartment about an hour later. He looked exhausted and worn out; he’d been spreading the word about his missing blonde friend to all of the various groups of people he knew. And Lorne had connections in some very interesting circles.

But the biggest surprise to their impromptu vigil had been when Anya appeared sobbing at their door with Giles in tow.

“She came to my apartment and has been crying ever since. All I could get was your names and Buffy, so I brought her here,” a helpless Giles insisted. He hated it when people cried, and he he’d been trying unsuccessfully to get Anya to stop for a while now.

It took nearly an hour and a half to calm the sobbing woman down to the point where any of them could understand her. Everyone decided they like blunt, straightforward Anya better than talking-in-riddles-upset-and-guilt-ridden Anya. Right now, Will and Spike were busy convincing her Buffy’s disappearance was not her fault, that it had nothing to do with the shops she’d sent her to. They finally ushered the exhausted woman to the guest bedroom where she could get some much needed rest. The world weary twins came out feeling that much more drained, but they both knew sleep was not going to come easily.

“Why exactly did Anya go to you, Da?” Spike asked with suspicion. It felt good to feel something other than mind-numbing grief. Watching his father splutter like a teenager caught in the act even drew a thin smile to his face.

“W-w-well…she and and and and –oh, bollocks.”

“You sly old fox,” Will teased approvingly. Anya would be good for their stuffy old man. He’d been on the shelf since their mother had died years back, and he needed a good brushing off. And Anya…well, he couldn’t imagine anyone being better at that than Anya. A harsh laugh even broke through Will’s facade when his father began cleaning his glasses.

“Y-yes, well, quite.” The glasses were settled back on his face, his expression pinning his children to the spot. That was a Dad look, and they weren’t immune to it. “When were you planning on telling me about this new development in your lives?”

Will and Spike’s eyes widened. They were not at all prepared to deal with another parental confrontation, especially in light of the circumstances.

“Da—“ Spike began, but he was interrupted by the older Brit.

“I’ve known you boys your entire lives. Contrary to what you think, I’m neither blind nor stupid. You’ve always been…different. But I’m your father, and I love you, and you’re old enough to make you own choices, as…untraditional as they might be. And Buffy really is a lovely girl.” Rupert Giles suddenly found his arms full of emotional boys.

“Thanks, Da,” Will whispered, feeling a huge weight lift off of his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much it had been weighing on him, and he really wished they’d done this under different circumstances.

“Ah…you’re welcome, son.”

***
Will and Spike walked solemnly down the hall. It was 8 AM, and still no sign of Buffy. They had grimly made their way to Gunn’s precinct, dreading the day to come.

“I need to file a missing person’s report,” Will said somberly. The cop at the duty desk glanced up, and took in the haggard appearance of the men before him.

“Name?”

“Buffy—“

“YOUR name?” Spike glowered at the man, wanting to bite his head off.

“William Giles,” Will said through gritted teeth.

“Will and Spike Giles?” a woman’s voice asked. They turned to see an authoritative blonde woman looking at them expectantly.

“Hi, I’m Detective Kate Lockley. I’m a good friend of Gunn’s, and I’ll be handling Buffy’s case. Follow me?”

“Buffy’s case? I don’t understand…we haven’t filed the missing person’s report.” Kate gave them a quick smile, leading them further into the bowels of the precinct.

“Gunn did it last night.”

“What? He said we couldn't do it till this morning!” Spike exploded in anger. Kate raised her hands as if to say “Wasn’t me.”

“I can’t really speak for Gunn, but it was probably for the best. We have to take all missing person’s reports, regardless of when the person disappeared…but if you had come in last night with her being gone for a couple of hours, your case probably would have been slipped to the bottom of the pile. We get a lot of people who file…premature missing person’s reports. Gunn’s filing it would have ensured that nothing got…lost.”

Spike’s sudden anger deflated. He wasn’t really mad at Gunn…he was mad at the situation and a world which would take Buffy from him. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and he highly doubted Will was, either.

“What do you need from us?” he asked miserable.

“To start off with, and up-to-date picture. Do you have one of those?” Will pulled out a picture of Buffy, her golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, her wide smile and green eyes reflecting happiness. “Good. Now, I’m going to need you to describe any identifying marks, what she was wearing when she disappeared, and anything you know about her schedule that day…”

***

Will and Spike were tired, depressed, and disheartened. They’d rehashed everything they knew about Buffy, that day, and what had happened when they’d realized she’d gone missing so many times their brains were spinning. They’d given testimony together, separate, to several different officers. They wanted to scream and curse and demand that these men and women get to their jobs…but mostly, they just wanted Buffy.

Their apartment was still a hotbed of activity when they arrived. Willow and Tara were cooking, Anya was cleaning something that didn’t appear to need cleaning, and Robin was reading the paper. Faith was probably at the dojo.

“You look like shit. Go get some sleep. Here’s some Ambien.” Anya thrust two little pills in her boss’s hands and folded her arms matter-of-factly across her chest.

“Pet,” Will began tiredly.

“No. Take them. You won’t sleep otherwise, and you need it. No dreams, either.” Will briefly hugged her, thankful that they had such good friends.

“So…you an’ Da,” a bleary-eyed Spike murmured. “You’ll be god for him.” Anya rolled her eyes, sighing loudly.

“I told Rupert you wouldn’t be upset. But he wouldn’t listen to me. At least now I won’t have to make up excuses to disappear at work,” she said with a grin. Will shook his head, a chuckle forcing its way out.

“Guess we’ll have to find a new secretary now, being as you’re with OUR boss,” Will added. Anya’s Look of Intense Anger Number 7 was suddenly directed at him.

“You most certainly will not! I like taking your money, and you will continue to supply me with it! I’m only schtupping you father, no reason to have to find another source of monetary wealth.” With that, Anya flounced off, grumbling about stupid men who couldn’t divorce business from sex.

“Anya just said schtupping,” Spike said with bewilderment.

“Yeah. She did. What’s happening to the world?”

“Buffy’s not here to keep it straight.”

With a pained look, they downed their pills and stumbled off to try and find solace in the darkness.

A/N: This fic is going ahead as scheduled. However, as it's now the end of the semester and I'm stressed enough to actually get mad about stupid comments, I'm not going to be posting all that regularly. I can't really help myself, because I do have about 3 chapters to edit/post, but don't get your hopes up. However, if you're missing your Spillfy smut, there's a Twinlets Kink table over on my personal site. I'll be updating that randomly, without announcements, as I finish each 'prompt.' So if you'd like to suggest a prmopt, feel free.





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