According to Xander Harris, she had made some sort of plans with Willow, but she sure as hell hadn’t mentioned any of that to him. Not that she had to, of course; Buffy was entitled to do whatever she wanted. But still, she should have known that not being able to find her would cause him to worry, especially since she clearly wasn’t where she had said she would be today; at work. Now he knew without doubt how Buffy must have felt when she woke up and couldn’t find him.
For a brief moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of pay-back; if Buffy for some reason had decided to get back at him for taking off without a word last night. But he quickly dismissed that thought. She had been pissed at the time, no question about it, but he was pretty sure Buffy wouldn’t do something like that. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but they had already moved past all of that.
For the first time since they had gotten together, he didn’t constantly feel the need to keep hiding things about his miserable past from Buffy; everything was finally out in the open, much to his relief. And she still loved him, something that would probably never completely cease to amaze him. However, the question remained. What was going on? And where the hell was Buffy?
Suddenly a shrill sound caused him to snap out of his thoughts and he immediately pulled out his cellphone from the pocket of his duster, hoping it would be Buffy. He frowned when he didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID. “Yeah?”
“Spike?” He vaguely recognized the female voice on the other end, but couldn’t quite place it. Not until she spoke again. “Hi, it’s Willow. I, um…”
Spike was just about to ask how she had gotten his number, then had to roll his eyes at himself when he remembered giving the number to Xander, not even half an hour ago, demanding that he would call him if he heard anything from Buffy. Not bothering to be polite, he interrupted her. “Buffy with you?”
“No.” Willow sounded very nervous as she quickly went on, clearly expecting him to interrupt her again. “Look, we don’t know each other and I never asked to get involved in any of this, not that I really know what this is. Not to mention that Buffy will probably kill me for telling you, but…”
There was a noise coming from the bedroom and Spike stopped listening to the red-head’s ramblings. He dropped the phone and hurried towards the other room. “Buffy?” Then he froze in his tracks as realization was finally starting to hit him. He didn’t know how, maybe it was just pure instinct, but for some reason, he just knew that Buffy would not be the one waiting for him in there. Slowly, he entered the room and turned on the light. And he was not the least bit surprised when he found Ethan sitting on the large bed.
Buffy was slowly starting to regain consciousness, blinking a couple of times in an attempt to get her vision to clear. At first, she had no idea where she was or what had just happened. She tried to look around, slowly moving her head from side to side, then had to grimace as a wave of nausea hit her. Trying to sit up, she immediately had to give that up as everything started spinning.
Closing her eyes, she desperately tried to remember anything that could possibly help her figure out where she was, and more importantly; why her head was aching like she had just been ran over by a truck. Wait a minute… Her eyes widened as she recalled going to Ethan’s place. They had been talking, well, she supposed he had been the one doing most of the talking, and then… Well, then she had woken up here. Suddenly she realized that he must have hit her, causing her to pass out. And now she was alone. Ethan was gone.
Looking around again, she finally realized that she was lying on the floor in a small bathroom. She was so cold, her entire body shaking, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been lying there. Glancing at her watch, she let out a gasp as she suddenly remembered Ethan’s last words to her. “Then I guess he won’t come here looking for you. Which means I have plenty of time to pay him a visit.”
Headache and nausea completely forgotten, Buffy wildly searched the floor for her purse, desperate to find her cellphone so she could call Spike and warn him. She had turned the phone off before going to Willow’s place so she wouldn’t have to come up with some kind of explanation in case Spike would call. Having already gone behind his back, the last thing she had wanted was to find herself in a situation where she would have to deliberately lie to him as well.
She realized now how stupid she had been; she never should have come here. But, of course, what was done was done and now it was obviously too late for having regrets. If she could only get in touch with Spike, maybe there would still be enough time for her to limit the damage. Unfortunately, her little black purse was nowhere to be seen. She must have dropped it somewhere on the floor in the other room when Ethan had hit her.
A horrifying thought occurred to her and she immediately reached into her pocket, letting out a sigh of relief when she realized that the small tape recorder was still there. Thank God she hadn’t dropped that as well! Scrambling to her feet, she tried to turn the door knob so she could get out and look for her phone. Nothing happened. Frowning, she tried again, only to start panicking when the door still wouldn’t open. And the key hole was empty.
Sobbing in defeat, she finally had to face the facts; she wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon, Ethan had made sure of that. The door was stuck. The bastard had brought her in here while she was still unconscious, and then locked from outside. Furiously slamming her small fists against the door a couple of times, Buffy stopped as she realized that it was pointless. Ethan was probably on his way to Spike’s place right now, if he wasn’t already there, and she had absolutely no way of warning him. Letting out a miserable whimper, she slid down to the floor, burying her face in her hands.
TBC