“Dr. Burkle, are you out of your mind?!” Dr. Williamson stared at his female colleague in outrage. “Are you telling me you let Drusilla – who happens to be my patient – out in to the garden, unsupervised?”
Fred cringed at the furious look on the older doctor’s face. “I told you, Dr. Williamson, she was not alone. She was with...”
“Oh, I forgot!” The sarcasm in his voice was not lost on her. “That boy – Mears – went along. Well, that changes everything!”
“He knows her.” Fred swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. “He told me they’ve been getting along so well, and...”
Dr. Williamson interrupted her. “You have been working here, how long, Doctor? Six months?”
“Um...” Fred lowered her eyes. “Almost seven, now. Actually, I...”
He didn’t let her finish. “And before that?” She opened her mouth, but he went on; “I assume this is your first real job. Believe me when I say this, Doctor – I can have you fired for this. What the hell were you thinking?!”
“Drusilla is on heavy medication!” Fred gave him a pleading look. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see any harm. I just...”
“You just let one of our most disturbed patients walk out of here, accompanied by only a young medical intern!” Dr. Williamson was fuming.
“Yes.” She looked down at her feet. Now she realized what a terrible mistake she had made. “But I’m telling you, Dr. Williamson, the drugs she was on should have made it impossible for her to walk, even more than a few steps by herself. She had to sit in a wheelchair, there’s no way...”
“I found these in Drusilla’s room, hidden under her mattress.” He held out a plastic cup, almost full of little white pills.
Fred’s eyes widened. “Are you saying Drusilla hasn’t been taking her medication?”
“It appears so.” Dr. Williamson ran his fingers through his hair, clearly agitated. “And now she’s gone.”
“Maybe she went to see her husband.” Fred got a hopeful expression on her face. “He was here earlier; I think he’s staying in town.”
The man frowned. “Mr Pratt was here? And why wasn’t I informed?” He let out a deep sigh. “Dr. Burkle, this conversation is far from over. But right now, our priorities are to find Drusilla before someone gets hurt. I’m going to contact her husband. You...” A pause. “Keep trying to get hold of Warren Mears. When I get my hands on him, he’s going to wish he’d never set foot in this hospital!”
After double checking to make sure Billy was really asleep, Buffy wandered around the house for a while, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t tired yet, and she didn’t feel like watching TV. As she found herself stopping just outside the bathroom, an idea occurred to her and she stepped inside, locking the door behind her.
A smile spread on her face at the sight of the bathtub; a long, nice bubble bath was just the thing she needed right now. She immediately started filling the tub, only to pout when she realized that Spike obviously didn’t own anything remotely close to the girly, sweet scented bath oils she usually liked to put in her bath at home.
Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet in search for something she could use instead, her frown turned into a wide grin as she found numerous bottles of expensive after shave, different kinds of shampoo for bleached hair, and large amounts of hair gel. Unable to resist the temptation, she quickly opened one of the bottles and sniffed at the contents.
The sweet, yet masculine smell made her think of Spike, and she let out a longing sigh, wishing again that he was home. After a brief moment’s hesitation, she took the bottle with her and stepped into the tub. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she sniffed at the bottle again.
Hesitating only for a second, she then brought her hand down between her legs. Suddenly she could hear Spike’s voice in her head, suggesting he would call her back as soon as Billy had gone to bed. She had laughed it off as a joke at the time, but now, she couldn’t help but find the idea most appealing.
Maybe she could just call him? She started to get up, then remembered that she had left the cordless phone downstairs, and let out a frustrated groan. It looked like she was on her own, then. Oh well, she could manage. Grumbling a little, just for the sake of it, she then started rubbing her clit.
Suddenly, she thought she heard the phone ringing downstairs, and her eyes snapped open. Could it be Spike, calling her after all? She bit her lip, wondering what to do. If she ran downstairs now, she would drip all over the house. And if she would grab a towel and dry herself off first, Spike – or whoever it was – would most likely hang up before she managed to reach the phone.
With a regretful sigh, she decided to stay where she was; finishing her bath and then go check who the caller was. If it turned out to be Spike, she could always call him back. With her mind made up, she lay back down, once again relaxing into the pleasant feeling of hot water against her skin.
“I’m sorry – what?!” Spike shook his head as if to clear it, certain that he couldn’t have heard the doctor correctly. He took a deep breath, trying to force himself to stay calm. “What the bleedin’ hell is this, some sort of a bad joke?”
”I’m afraid not, Mr Pratt. We have people out there searching for them as we speak, but unfortunately, we have no idea in which direction they went.” Dr. Williamson paused for a moment. ”I was hoping you might have some idea.”
“Me? You bloody serious?!” Clenching his fist in frustration, Spike started pacing the room. “Thought you were supposed to keep your patients under strict supervision? She what? Just walked out the soddin’ door?”
”Yes, although it looks like she’s had some help.” Dr. Williamson sighed. ”I’m sorry, Mr Pratt, but we need you to come over here as soon as possible.”
“Bloody hell!” Spike rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m on my way.” Hanging up before the doctor got the chance to say anything more, he quickly dialed the number home. When no one picked up, he tried Buffy’s cell phone, only to get her voice mail. Throwing the phone away from him in frustration, he grabbed his leather duster and car keys, and headed for the door.
Ten minutes later, Spike barged through the doors into the hospital, immediately walking up to the information counter. He recognized the pretty, although very irritating brunette – Cordelia – from his last visit, and suppressed the urge to groan. Luckily, an older man came hurrying through the corridor, calling out his name. “Mr Pratt?”
Spike raised a brow. “Dr. Williamson, I take it?” The other man nodded in confirmation. “Right. Found her yet?”
“No.” The doctor shook his head. “Listen, Mr Pratt, I was just told you came here to see her earlier today. But according to the papers, you never signed in as a visitor. May I ask who showed you to your wife’s room? Was it Dr. Burkle?”
“Dunno. Maybe.” Spike shrugged. “Didn’t catch the bloke’s name. Just said he was a doctor.”
“He? You must be mistaken.” Dr. Williamson got a confused look on his face. “I’m the only male doctor who’s been working here this afternoon. And I...” He stopped. “This man you were talking to. Was he in his early twenties? Tall? Dark hair?”
“Sounds about it.” Spike nodded.
Dr. Williamson closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded in understanding. “That’s Warren Mears. He’s the medical intern who we believe is responsible for your wife’s departure.” He paused. “Mr Pratt, can you think of any reason why Drusilla would want to leave this hospital? Did she say anything to you, indicating she wanted to go some place? Anyone in particular she wanted to see?”
“I don’t...” Spike hesitated for a moment. “Well, she went on about how she wanted to see our son. But he’s not here in town. She wouldn’t possibly know where to find him. Other than that, I can’t think of...”
“Excuse me, sir? I couldn’t help but overhear...” A timid voice piped up behind them, and Spike turned around with a frown. Fred went on, a little awkwardly; “Your son doesn’t happen to be in Sunnydale by any chance, does he?”
Spike stared at her, a somewhat alarmed expression on his face. “How’d you know? Who the bloody hell are you?”
“I’m Dr. Winnifred Burkle, but you can call me Fred.” She lowered her eyes, shyly. “As for how I know about your son...” Fred let out a nervous giggle. “It’s a long story, actually...”
“Dr. Burkle!” Dr. Williamson interrupted her, an impatient note in his voice. “Get to the point.”
“Right, sorry!” Fred nodded eagerly, turning back to Spike. “Well, I have reason to believe Warren may have found a way to hack into our computer system. He was caught by Dr. Walsh the other day, coming out from one of our offices. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but I just found this in Drusilla’s room.” She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Spike.
He quickly skimmed through the paper, his eyes widening in alarm when the pieces were starting to fall into place. Somehow, Drusilla had managed to get her hands on his home address, and the fact that she was now missing was no coincidence. His heart started beating faster and the paper dropped to the floor. Drusilla was on her way to Sunnydale.
TBC