Buffy gasped as she tried to steady her breathing. "Oz! What the fuck?! Why are you sitting in a dark room? And why are you sitting in a dark room here?
Oz shrugged, "Peaceful. Better couch."
"Oh...well...I just came to pick up a few things." She started back towards the bedroom.
"Wouldn't go back there."
Buffy stopped and turned, "What?"
"Bedroom. Wouldn't do it."
Well, of course, that made her want to go back there all the more even with the dread the warning instilled. Curiosity is a powerful thing. So, shaking her head, she disappeared down the hallway. A few moments later, she charged out, "What the fuck happened?!" Spike's room had been thoroughly tossed. Mattress askew, alarm clock smashed, hangers snapped, suits thrown about, drawers completely removed and seemingly flung against the wall, and a few dents she suspected came from a fist. Buffy rounded the couch to place herself in front of Oz. "What happened?"
After a long pause, Oz began to speak. "Well...I came here earlier today...Spike wasn't home. He walked in about 5 minutes later carrying this," he held up the pink cell phone that was lying next to him on the couch, "and muttering something about you riding off into the sunset with Captain Cardboard. I left sometime after I heard the first—I don't know what—break. I figured he needed to work it out for himself. Not the first time he's done property damage."
Buffy lowered her head in thought, "And he was gone when you came back?"
"No, but he was on his way out."
She took a breath, "To meet Dru." Oz didn't answer. Buffy glanced around the room helplessly as if searching for an answer, and something caught her eye—spaces of white where paintings once hung. "Where are Drusilla's paintings, Oz?"
"Went with him."
She furrowed her brow, "Why would he take those with him?"
"You're really going to have to ask him. I'm way over my word quota for today."
Buffy frowned down at him, "You're really impossible sometimes."
"Yep."
Shaking her head, she decided to grab her cell phone and suitcase and worry about the rest later. She had already left Riley and Anya waiting in the car for much longer than she had intended. Oz continued to seem unmoved by her presence as she collected her things. As she left, she flipped the lights back off. It felt a little odd with Oz sitting there, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.
She returned to Riley's car and climbed in the back seat. Before she knew what was happening, Anya had jumped in the back from the other side and maneuvered the suitcase to the floorboard. "Anya! What are you doing back here?"
"Tell me what happened! Come on! You were in there forever."
Buffy glanced at Riley.
"Oh, he can't hear us with that Enya blaring. So, give me the scoop!"
"Oz was there. We talked a little...that's all. I think—I think Spike saw me with Riley before he took me to your apartment earlier. And...I think he's with Dru right now."
Anya smirked, "So, he's with Dru? That's too bad, Buffy. So, tell me—what are we going to do with your ex tonight?"
Buffy took a moment to process Anya's words before her eyes widened, "Oh my god! I'm such a hypocrite!" She sighed deeply, "I just want to go back to your place, Anya. Do you mind?"
Anya smiled, "Not at all. I'm kinda tired myself."
Buffy leaned up and tapped Riley on the shoulder. "Hey, do you mind taking us back to Anya's place? I think we're going to call it a night."
Riley looked disappointed, "Yeah...that's fine. You think maybe we could get together some other time?"
"Ummm," Buffy bit her lip, "my life is really complicated right now, Riley, but I'll let you know. I really appreciate everything you've done for me today."
"No problem, Buff, you've always been a really special girl. I'm so sorry about your mom. If there's anything..."
"Thanks, Riley, I'll let you know." They pulled up outside Anya's apartment building and the girls exited the vehicle. They waved Riley off and entered the building. An hour later, they were both snuggled under the blankets in Anya's queen-size bed.
"Hey, Anya, are you awake?"
"I'm trying really hard not to be."
"Oh, okay."
"Psst...Anya. You asleep yet?"
"Almost."
"Anya? You sleeping now?"
"Yes."
"Hey, Anya, do you think that maybe some people are just extremely unlucky?"
"Right now? Yes, I do."
"Anya?"
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Anya...it...it hurts so much. Why can't I cry?"
"You will."
Buffy finally managed to get a few hours of sleep and proceeded to watch mindless daytime talk shows while Anya got a few more. After Anya woke up, she convinced Buffy to go thrift store shopping after they made a trip by Buffy's apartment to pick up a few things. Buffy was still stubbornly insisting on hiding out at Anya's apartment.
As they perused the tables and the racks of the thrift shops, Buffy's mind was elsewhere.
"Do you think he spent the night with Dru."
Anya let out a long, exaggerated sigh, "No, Buffy, for the fifth time, I do not think Spike spent the night with Dru. That man loves you, whether you believe it or not."
Buffy scoffed and pretended to be really interested in a pair of vintage bell-bottoms.
"You're gonna have to get your head out of your ass eventually."
"Let's just shop, okay! I won't talk about him anymore."
Anya shook her head as they continued through the racks.
"Order up, B!"
Buffy blinked, "Huh, what?"
Xander rolled his eyes from the beer taps and glanced at Faith, "So, she's been like this all night?"
Faith shrugged, "Pretty much—B, take these greyhounds to the chicks under the Guinness poster." She watched Buffy stumble off through the thinning crowd. She turned to Anya, "You want anything else to drink tonight? Last call in 15 minutes."
"Nah, I'm good." She glanced at the door. "Too bad her knight in shining armor didn't...shine tonight. I really thought he'd come through again."
"Well, maybe this is B's time to shine," Faith commented as Buffy returned to the bar.
"My what to what?" Buffy hopped up on a barstool next to Anya.
"Buffy," Anya began in a diplomatic voice, "you've been obsessing about Spike all day, and you're still in some weird state of shock or something—don't you think you should, at least, talk to the guy?"
"Yeah, B," Faith jumped in, "at the very least, it might help straighten out your head. The way you've been acting tonight, I know you knocked something loose." She glanced at the clock. "It's almost closing time. We can handle this, B. Go talk to your man."
"Not my man," she mumbled, looking down. She heaved a huge sigh, "Fine, I'll get this over with, so you guys won't bug me anymore. I suppose the longer I wait, the worse it will be. I can grab some more stuff while I'm there." She hopped off the stool as Faith handed over her purse from the other side of the bar.
"There's a cab right outside the door, B. I'll be watching your cute little ass get in it this time."
Buffy rolled her eyes, but she did as she was told. The cab ride was short and Buffy soon found herself standing outside of Spike's building—what was supposed to be their building. Suddenly, she felt insecure in her tight pub t-shirt and denim mini-skirt. She felt like she needed a more appropriate outfit for going into battle. Taking a deep breath, she entered the building. Whereas, the cab ride had seemed impossibly fast, the elevator ride seemed incredibly slow. Finally, it opened on Spike's floor. Buffy let herself into his darkened flat. She braced herself as she flipped on the lights, but there was no Oz in sight—no Spike in sight either. She flipped on a lamp and turned off the main lights before walking to the back of the flat. She found it empty and still in the same mangled state it had been the previous day.
Horrified, she backed out of the hallway into the living room with her hands over her mouth. Oh god. He didn't sleep here last night. Oh god. He's not here tonight. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I've lost him. I've lost him. I've really lost him. And finally the tears came, filling her eyes and spilling over in thick rivulets. "Wh-why? I th-th-thought he liked me," she cried to no one, "I thought he wanted me. Why doesn't anyone want me!" She was screaming by the end. She stumbled into the living room and flopped down on the couch, curling up in the fetal position. Sobs racked her body, wetting the fabric beneath her cheek. "I want my mommy, I want my mommy, I w-want my mommy," she mumbled helplessly through her tears. As devastation poured from her body, her energy was drained along with it. Exhaustion soon took its toll, and she fell fast asleep.
She awoke sometime later to the sensation of someone touching her. As she slowly regained awareness, she realized that someone was gently running their fingers through her hair. She forced her tear-swollen eyes open and her heart skipped a beat.
"Spike?"