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MAKE HER OWN WAY


Chapter 18: ‘He’ll Be Waiting’


Spike had fixed up his cut hand, something he’d normally have let Buffy attend to and cleaned up as much of the mess he made that he could that night. The shattered mirror was a lost cause, though, Mrs. Walsh, the cleaning lady would have to clean that train wreck up herself when she showed up in a couple of days. Careful not to step on any missed glass shards, Spike took his cell phone and a fresh glass of whiskey out onto the balcony. He drank the double shot down and got up the courage to dial Buffy’s parents house in Encino, hoping that they would at least answere the phone. Dawn, Buffy’s younger sister answered the phone by the third ring.

“Hello,” came her greeting. “Dawnie,” Spike stammered, “it’s William, is your big sis there by chance?” Dawn hesitated, obviously having been coached by someone as to how to ‘not’ talk to him, “I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she finally said, bluntly (ah the honesty of the young!). “You hurt my sister, William, I don’t like you any more.” That hurt Spike, truly, he adored Buffy’s little sis, almost as much as his own sister Drusilla and to think that she no longer liked him or looked up to him just tore him up inside.

“Please put your Mum or Dad on, ‘Niblet’ okay?” Spike pleaded, using his favorite nickname for Buffy’s beloved sister. “Mommy, Daddy, it’s William,” he heard her call out on the other end. Spike took a deep breath and swallowed hard when Hank Summers took the receiver from his youngest child and answered gruffly, “yes William.”

It wasn’t that Spike was afraid of Hank, he certainly was not, but the man was his beloved’s father and that alone intimidated him somewhat. “Where is she, Hank?” he finally asked, trying to keep calm and in control of the situation. Hank sighed audibly, “I honestly don’t know, William. She showed up here, this morning , picked up her old Mustang I was keeping stored for her and took off again within an hour. Apparently her Mother and her had this all arranged previously, I certainly knew nothing about it.

But, William, I have to tell you, I’m pissed off at you about my daughter having to flee from everyone like a refugee in the night, just because you two can’t work out your problems.” Spike didn’t have a response to that one. “Okay, listen son,” Hank Summers continued, lowering his voice, “to be honest, if I knew where Buffy was, I’d tell you right off. Frankly, I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to my daugher, but what the hell do I know? I’m only her father! Who listens to me?”

Spike told Hank ‘thank you’ and clicked off his cell phone, more worried then ever. ‘I knew she wasn’t there,’ he thought, ‘but I had to give it a shot. Maybe Hank might have guessed something, good to know I have one Summers ally, though.’ Suddenly, an idea occurred to him and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. He speed dialed Buffy’s cell phone number and prayed she had it turned on; she did alright.

The problem was she’d left it at their apartment, Spike heard the annoying sound of ‘It’s a Small World’ tinkling from the book case by the balcony. “Fuck!” he screamed slamming his cell onto the bar and grabbing hers, turning off the song and hurling the phone against a nearby wall. It hit the wall with such force that it broke into pieces and left a nice sized whole in the white and salmon paint.

“Buffy painted that trim herself,” Spike thought sadly, regretting his violent act immediately. Tears threatened him again and he decided to go out to the balcony to smoke, taking Mr. Gordo, who had come out of hiding to see what was going on, to sit with him.

Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Spike sat at the balcony table, the one he’d shared with Buffy so many times. It was these kinds of things, little things that caused more of those tiny tears to form at the edge of eyes. Mr. Gordo sat in his lap, purring softly and sadly, too, Spike thought.

“Were could she be mate?” he asked the cat, stroking his soft fur. If he didn’t know better, the damn cat looked up at Spike as if to say ‘bloody hell if I know, mate. Why don’t you use part of your superior human brain, what little you have of it and figure it out. It’s your fault she’s gone anyway, moron!’

“I don’t have to take that from a bloody cat, Gordo,” he hissed back at the tabby. “Christ, I’m carrying on an argument with a cat for God’s sake! I’ve got to find Buffy, I’ll go completely round the bend if I don’t!”

Buffy had been gone from Sunnydale for almost four weeks and was settling nicely in her new home. She was thankful for Tara McClay and that her best friend’s girlfriend had so many friends and contacts in the art world, especially in so many places. Tara’s cousin, Warren Meers, was the manager of an Art Gallery and had been more then happy to hire Buffy on Tara’s word alone. Because of Tara, Buffy had been able to come here, to this beautiful place, get a position right away and even, with Warren’s help find a lovely place to live.

Her little cottage was just that ‘little’ but cozy and well, just hers. ‘Thank God for Tara,’ Buffy thought to herself as she went over the accounts for the Victory Art Gallery. This was just one of her responsibilities and she loved it. When Buffy had called Tara, right after the pill fiasco with Will and then that horrible realization that her lover was capable of almost anything, well, Willow’s girlfriend had been most sympathetic.

“I’d leave Willow, too,” Tara had assured Buffy, “if she became so obsessed with me that she would do horrible things. It’s just a pity that you have to go to these lengths, Buffy, I mean to have to hide out?”

Tara McClay had arranged everything perfectly, finding Buffy a position with her cousin, Warren and his wife April ran the Gallery nearby Buffy’s new home. April had even found the cottage for Buffy, before she ever arrived in their town. Buffy had fallen in love with the area, the cottage and The Art Gallery right away.

However…..it did not make up for her sense of loss of her William. She had come to grips with it the minute she had taken a bus out of Sunnydale, she was and always would be in love with Will, period. Of course, Buffy had cried for days, her heart broke a million times in the first few weeks of seperation from Will, but she knew she had to be strong, very strong in this matter.

Tara had been a blessing, truly. Buffy did hate to drag her into all of this, make her keep her whereabouts from Willow, Xander and Cordy, her family, most of all Will. The truth was, as good a friend as Willow had always been to Buffy, if she knew anything about where she was, her best friend, Red, as William called her, would never be able to keep the secret. No, the minute William or one of his lap dogs would have approached her, Willow, regarding Buffy’s whereabouts? Willow would have sung like a red-headed canary, whether she meant to or not, and Tara seemed to realize this also

Buffy set the accounts aside for a moment and fished her cell phone out of her purse, then dialed Tara’s cell. “Hello,” came Tara’s warm voice. “It’s me, Tara,” Buffy greeted, feeling suddenly lonely. “Hi sweetie,” Tara responded, “how’s it going?” Buffy had to think about that one, ‘how was it going?’

She had settled in at work, set up a nice neat little home for herself and tried as hard as she could not to think or worry about Will. In fact, when Tara and her talked, Tara being the only one with Buffy’s new cell phone number, Buffy ‘tried’ not to ask about Will.

“Before you even ask, Buffy,” Tara said softly, “Your William is a complete wreck. He’s finally gone back to work, kind of, but he’s still drinking himself stupid every night in your apartment. William tells, Xander tells Cordy, Cordy tells Willow and Wills tells me, and no, he hasn’t called off his ‘bounty hunters’ nor do I think he’s ever going to.” “Oh,” is all Buffy could say.

“I think I know you pretty well by now, Buffy,” Tara began, “You are hiding out, biding your time and just praying that William changes into the man ‘you’ want him to be, right?” Buffy didn’t answere right away, but that was just what she was waiting for. Finally, “yeah, I guess that’s right, Tara,” she whispered.

“I’m just afraid that William won’t be waiting for me, once I’m ready to come home, you know?” Tara began to laugh loudly, “oh, sweetie,” she gigled, “William ‘waiting’ for ‘you’ is not even a problem. The poor guy will be waiting for you until he’s a hundred. Buffy, he’s so in love with you, heck, everyone’s concerned he’s going to worry himself to death over you. Frankly, I wish you would at least call him on your new cell phone and let him know you are okay. I’d tell him you’re fine, but then he’d know that I know where you are! Besides, if I were you, I’d be more concerned if William found you before you decide it’s time to come home to Sunnydale. It’s not impossible, you know Buffy? With all of his resources, William could very easily find you before it’s time for you and him to face each other.”

Buffy had considered this, often, in the last few weeks, but decided that Will, even with his money and resources, could never find her. Besides, even if he did, Buffy just had to pray constantly that Will would have come to his senses by then, thought about what he had done in the pursuit of money and power.

“I’ve been reading the Journal, Tara,” Buffy said softly, “I saw that the merger of Travers, Inc. and Giles, Inc. didn’t happen. Quentin Travers turned down the deal, at least that’s what the paper said. It means Will didn’t utilize his information, doesn’t it Tara? I mean, Will didn’t try and blackmail Quentin Travers, or the poor old guy would have turned over the voting majority….right ?”

Buffy had told Tara everything that had caused her to run from William and his family. It was so important to Buffy that Will had not followed his Father’s wishes and used Mr. Traver’s young Grandson, Quinn, to negotiate a win for the Giles’ family.

“I would think so, Buffy,” Tara assured her friend. Finally, Tara just came out and said it, “Buffy, I think you should call William and tell him you’re okay, that you’re safe and settled. You don’t have to tell him where you are and he couldn’t possibly trace the call on a cell phone. I’ve kept your family informed about your well fare, Buffy, but it’s time for you to let William know you are all right. Will you do that for his sake, Buffy? For William, for yourself?”

After Buffy and Tara finished their phone conversation, Buffy thought about what her good friend had said, ‘Will did deserve to know she was alright, that was true. Also, there is no way that he could ever figure out that she, Buffy, was over a thousand miles north of Sunnydale, in Victoria, Canada.’

Spike sat in his office, that morning, smoking another cigarette and drinking his half assed cold coffee. He scrolled down the screen of his computer, reading the massive amout of information on it, information that had become so meaningless to him by this time. It had been almost a month since Buffy had left him and gone into hiding; a month of torture and pure hell for him. But, he had finally quit blaming her, now he only blamed himself, something that caused him to drink himself into a stupor every night.

Since Buffy had left him, Spike had spent thousands and thousands of dollars to try and find her. He even had considered hiring a couple of bounty hunters to try and track her down, but didn’t, even he had some limits after all. Besides, Buffy would never have forgiven him if he’d pulled a stunt like that.

His Father, Rupert had immediately suggested having the Sunnydale Police Department put out an APB on Buffy, drumming up some bogus reasons to put her name and face out all over the country. Fortunately, Spike’s mother, Jenny had put her foot down and prevented either her husband or son to pull this kind of stunt to find Buffy.

He still kept looking of course, into every lead, down every logical path, into all the locales that Buffy might have gone to. Spike would never, ever give up on finding Buffy, he loved her more then ever and although he had stopped blaming her every minute of the day or night, he still intended on finding her and bringing her home. Angel O’Connor had not panned out; Wesley Rhys-Smith had spoken to the man right away and was convinced he knew nothing about Buffy or where she had gone.

All of their friends in Sunnydale, Xander and Cordy,Willow, everyone had been a dead end. In fact, these people had seemed sympathetic to Spike, wondering what Buffy could have been thinking, running off like that. Since Buffy had been gone, which seemed like months instead of just one, Spike had lost too much weight. He started smoking and drinking even more then ususal and the only time he went anywhere but work was to hang out at Xander and Cordy’s house, crying his eyes out about Buffy.

Rupert Giles had been furious that his perfect ‘daughter-in-law’ had ran off from them, leaving his son a broken and quite devestated man. “Bring her back,” he’d told Spike gruffly, “bring her back home to you, to us. She just needs a good talking to, spoiled little chit that she is. However, son,” he added sincerely, “she is the spoiled little chit for you.”

Spike, on that particular morning, was going over some insignificant (at least to him) money figures on the accounts. As before in the last month, everything that showed up on the screen had some connection, for him, to Buffy. The net profits made him think of Buffy going over The Chateau’s accounts, the night he waltzed into it and swept her off to Pismo Beach.

Reading the Net Wall Street numbers made him think of mornings at their apartment, him sitting out on the balcony that Buffy loved so, reading the paper, smoking like a chimeny, waiting for her to get up and join him.

“Oh, God,,” he rasped painfully, “I have to find her, I’ll do anything for her, anything to get her back.” His cell phone went off and he was more then glad to stop crunching numbers and reliving happier Buffy times to answere the call, even if he had no idea what number flashed on the ID calling screen.

“Giles,” he answered curtly. “Will?” came the voice he’d missed for a month, the one that he loved more then life, could always lighten his mood, make him feel like a God more then a man. “Buffy!” he gasped, “God Buffy, where are you?”


A/N: Please read and review! Thanks, luv Spuf





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