Thank you so much to Sanity Fair for the beta work on this chapter. The delay is all mine, not hers! Thanks to all the reviewers too. And thanks to Joss Whedon for loaning me a few characters.
 
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Chapter 3 – Home, Alone
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Willow was getting worried. It was three o’clock, and Buffy was still gone. Dawn had come home from school hoping to see Joyce’s car in the driveway, and she had run upstairs and locked herself in her room with hardly a word when she saw Buffy hadn’t returned. After her conversation with Xander, she and Tara had busied themselves trying to track down more information on the infamous Trio. All the various camera feeds had been traced down and eliminated. She was also almost one hundred percent sure that she had figured out the location of their hideout. She was more than one hundred percent certain that going over there without some serious Slayer muscle was not going to be a winning proposition. In the end, she had gone back to bed with Tara for a few hours, reveling in the return of her lover.
 
Tara was currently looking through some spell books, trying to figure out the best way to find the Trio. They tried a simple locator spell, but apparently these guys knew enough magic to have wards around them because it went nowhere. Counter spells were trickier, and Tara wasn’t sure which of the various options they had would work the best. “Trying to find a counter spell that can get through wards is going to be a pain,” she remarked to Willow. They were curled up next to each other on the couch while they worked, and Tara was finding it very distracting, in a good way.
 
“Maybe when Buffy gets back she’ll be able to track them down the old fashioned way,” Willow said. “You know, with the kicking and the beating?”
 
“If she’s up to it. She seemed upset.”
 
“I guess so,” Willow agreed. “I mean, even if you broke up with a guy, you still don’t generally want to see him dead. Well, deader in this case.”
 
“Willow, I think we need to be careful of what we say to Buffy about her thing with Spike,” Tara said. “I think their whole relationship was complicated to the nth power.”
 
“How could it not be?” Willow responded, leaning her head on Tara’s shoulder. “I mean she was sleeping with her former worst enemy and hiding it from all of us to boot. Don’t know what could have driven her to that.”
 
“I think the whole resurrection thing pretty much sums it up.”
 
“Yeah. Mixed results, huh?”
 
Tara stroked Willow’s cheek until she turned and kissed her. “Things happened. It’s good to acknowledge them, but we all need to find a way to move past it I think.”
 
“God, I missed you,” Willow sighed. They renewed their kiss until they were both startled by the sound of the front door opening. They jumped up in concert and headed to the front hall. “Buffy?”
 
Buffy was hanging up her jacket. She was disheveled, her shoes and jeans were dusty, and she had the beginnings of sunburn on her face. “Hey,” she said quietly. She made her way to the kitchen and proceeded to drink three glasses of water in rapid succession while Tara and Willow looked on uncertainly.
 
Finally, Willow said, “Buffy, are you okay? You were gone so long, we were getting worried.”
 
“Sorry about that,” Buffy replied. She poured a fourth glass of water and drank half of it before explaining further. “I drove out to the state park. My car got towed, and I forgot my wallet. I ended up having to walk home, about ten miles.”
 
“You should have called us,” Tara said in a worried voice.
 
Buffy shrugged. “Wasn’t really a way to call you. Anyhow, I’m here.”
 
Willow noted Buffy’s red-rimmed eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”
 
Buffy shook her head. “I need to take a shower.” She finished off the glass of water and headed upstairs. As she reached the landing Dawn’s door opened.
 
“So you’re back?” Dawn’s voice was petulant and she scowled at Buffy over folded arms as she leaned against the doorframe.
 
Buffy’s shoulders sagged a bit in the face of the angry teen. “Dawn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone all night, and then the car got towed…”
 
“Whatever,” Dawn interrupted. “Don’t bother, like, making sure I’m okay or anything. Because it’s not like I didn’t spend all summer with Spike or anything. Clearly my feelings about it aren’t important enough to ask about!” She turned and stomped back into her room, slamming the door behind her.
 
Buffy stared at Dawn’s door for a long moment, wondering if she should go in and talk to her. Forget it. Nothing I say is going to help right now. She turned and made her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She stripped off her dusty clothes and turned the water on as hot as she could stand it. She winced as it struck her sunburned forehead, but she welcomed the pain. Physical pain I can handle. It’s the mental stuff I can’t deal with. She stood there for long minutes just letting the water sluice the dirt from her skin. As she started soaping herself she found herself thinking of Spike’s hands. He had once spent the better part of half an hour playing with her breasts with those long, cool fingers, until she had come with no other stimulation. She hadn’t known that was possible. She hadn’t known she was capable of engaging in sexual acrobatics for five hours straight. Her previous sexual encounters hadn’t prepared her for what a truly talented tongue could make her body do. As she stood there, soap running down her legs in rivulets, she suddenly knew with absolute certainty that she would never feel that again. She would probably have sex again, but it would never be as good as it was with her mortal enemy. The weight of that thought was crushing, and she found herself stifling a sob. She finished rinsing off under the cooling water and got out, going through the motions of drying off with little conscious thought. She went to her bedroom and got dressed, then sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the carpet and trying to get up the energy to go downstairs.
 
A knock at the door shook her out of her reverie. “Buffy? Can I come in?”
 
“Sure, Will,” she answered. She grabbed her hairbrush and started sorting out her tangles so Willow wouldn’t see her just sitting there. Hiding her true feelings from the Scoobies had become second nature, automatic. Probably something wrong with that, she mused.
 
Willow came in uncertainly and sat down on the bed next to Buffy. “Tara told me about your… relationship, with Spike I mean. Do you want to talk about it?”
 
“What’s there to talk about?” Buffy didn’t meet Willow’s eyes as she kept brushing her hair with more vigor than strictly necessary. “We slept together. We broke up; Xander dusted him. Not much more to say.”
 
Willow frowned a bit at Buffy’s tone. “How long were you together?”
 
Buffy put the brush down for a minute. “It started around the time you deratted Amy.” An image came to her mind of plaster and beams raining down around them as she rode him, desperately seeking sensation and release. She bit her lip to keep control and went back to brushing her hair.
 
“That… that was a while ago,” Willow said, trying to keep her tone nonjudgmental.
 
Willow’s efforts were in vain, as Buffy picked up on the undercurrent of shock in Willow’s voice. “You were a bit preoccupied with the magic and all. I needed someone who wasn’t trying to fix me.”
 
The witched winced involuntarily at the dig. “I really am sorry for the magic fest. You know that.”
 
“Yeah, I know.” Buffy put the brush aside and stared down at her lap, unable to think of what else to say. She felt completely hollowed out inside.
 
When Willow realized that the silence was doomed to stretch on forever unless she did something about it she said, “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell us about it. We’re your friends though. You know we’re here for you.”
 
Buffy gave a little scoffing laugh. “Until I start banging Spike, then it’s intervention time.”
 
“That’s not fair! You didn’t even give us a chance!” Willow cried out indignantly.
 
“No,” Buffy answered quietly, the fight instantly draining out of her again. “Figured I felt bad enough without having to manage everyone else’s disappointment as well.” She stood up. “I’m hungry and I really don’t feel like talking right now.” She left the room with no further discussion, leaving a troubled Willow behind.
 
Downstairs she rummaged in the refrigerator until she came up with the makings of a turkey sandwich. She ate it without really tasting it, chewing mechanically and leaving half of it on the plate when she finished. She wandered out to the back porch and sat staring into the sunset. She closed her eyes and leaned against the railing. I was here, and I was upset, and he showed up ready to kill me. I totally had it coming, and instead he patted my back and comforted me. Why would he do that? He didn’t love me then, did he? But it was clear from all his subsequent actions that he had had feelings for her even then. Maybe not love, but respect? Consideration? Whatever it was, she had treated him like refuse, and even then he couldn’t kill her. How many times had she berated him, beat him, and used him, and he barely laid a finger on her? He could have drained her neck in the throes of their lovemaking fifteen times over, but he never did. She couldn’t understand, and now she never would it seemed. The sun drifted below the horizon while she sat there, mentally and physically exhausted.
 
“Buff?” Startled, she turned to see Xander stepping through the back door. “Can I talk to you?”
 
“You can try,” she replied, turning back around and closing her eyes as she leaned against the porch once more. Here it comes…
 
Xander frowned and sat down beside her on the porch. “I’m just trying to understand how this all happened.”
 
Buffy found herself instantly devoid of patience. “You went apeshit and dusted him, end of story.”
 
“You know what I mean,” Xander said with a hint of irritation. “I mean, how is it that the evil undead managed to talk both you and Anya into having sex with him?”
 
“No one talked us into anything, Xander,” Buffy muttered in a tired voice.
 
“I just don’t get it. I mean, we’ve been friends and worked together for years now. Why would you keep this a secret if you didn’t know how wrong it is?”
 
Buffy suddenly wanted nothing more to do with this conversation. She stood up and without another word fled back into the house, slamming the door behind her. She pushed past Willow and Tara in the kitchen and went up to her room, slamming that door as well. She lay down on her bed and closed her eyes, hoping everyone would take the hint and leave her alone.
 
The knock on the door ten minutes later told her that someone did not take the hint. “Buffy, it’s Willow. Can I come in?”
 
No! she thought angrily. But aloud she said, “Yeah, whatever.” She rolled over to face away from the door with her eyes still clamped shut.
 
Willow stepped in softly and closed the door behind her. “I told Xander he needed to leave for a while.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, not sure what else to do.
 
“Thanks.”
 
Willow chewed her lip for a moment then said, “I really think… I think you need to talk this out. I mean, there’s a whole bunch of stuff going on, and there’s the whole evil trio out there, and I worry that you’re going to get hurt if you’re all upset and distracted.”
 
Buffy groaned inwardly. She had managed to completely forget about the trio of pains in her ass. “Willow, please. Just… just let me be. I know you’re trying to help and be a good friend and all that but I don’t want to talk about this.”
 
“I just…” Willow began, but she couldn’t find the words to ask Buffy what she was thinking. When Buffy didn’t show any sign of rolling over to face her Willow tried a different tack. “I think I know where the Trio’s lair is, and I thought you’d want to know.”
 
Buffy sighed. She rolled over to look at Willow with tired eyes. “The Sunnydale Police are just going to have to step up and deal with the human bad guys for tonight. Sorry, I just need to sleep. Please, just go. Please.” She rolled back over and shut her eyes. Willow gave up and left, turning out the light as she did. Buffy lay in the dark, listening to Willow’s feet on the stairs, listening her tell Tara and Dawn “She doesn’t want to talk right now.” Buffy put a pillow over her head to block out the rest of the conversation. She knew that at some point she would have to talk about what happened, but she would be okay if that conversation happened about six years hence. I miss him. She had sometimes thought that her life would be easier if he hadn’t been there, but now she found she would give anything to smell that faint trace of cigarette smoke wafting up from next to the tree out front. The little circle in the grass where he watched over them would fill in eventually, and some other demon would move into his crypt, and all signs that someone had spent more than a century on this earth would vanish. He probably never had a tombstone or anything. I don’t even know his last name… The sadness of this last thought brought tears to her eyes again, and she wept quietly into her empty room.
 
TBC