A/N : Okay, okay, I know it's all depressing right now and what Buffy's considering doing is shocking but as weird as it sounds I've never written anything this angsty and shocking and non-happy before and I'm really starting to get into it! I promise that, eventually, there will be some happy. It's all planned out and there will be some.

I've spent so much time writing these past few days (I had a long weekend off work since Monday was a public holiday here in UK) and I'm really proud of some of the stuff I've come up with. You might have noticed, or you might not, that I've posted several short fics the last few days, and I thought I should get another chapter of this fic done too since I have these nice people who keep on reading and reviewing - thankyou for that by the way, and please continue with this wonderful thing called reviewing! Enough rambling, time for the new chapter...

(For disclaimer, etc. - see chapter 1)

Chapter 8 - Destination Unknown

Mirror images of one another, were Spike and Xander this morning. Both stood outside the front door of the apartment where the woman they loved resided, both petrified about what they were about to do, afraid of the reaction they might receive and afraid of their own feelings, the ones they were about to explain to the most important woman in their life. Both took a deep breath, raised a fist to tap firmly on the wood, deciding the key that resided in their pockets should not be used on this occasion.

Three taps and wait for a reply, breathe deeply once more, close eyes and fight back the nerves and impending sense of possible doom. No response, three more taps, a little louder. Waiting, worrying, wondering...still no response.

Kneel to the level of the letterbox, open it up and peer inside, call her name, thinking 'Where is she? She should be home?', again, no response.

Dejected sigh and pull out the cellphone from inside pocket. Speed-dial, rings the number of the phone just beyond the door. Here it ring, once, twice, three times...eight times...twelve times...twenty times...no response.

"Where the hell is she?" and a bunch of expletives fall from their mouths into the cool morning air, more from the bleach blonde than the brunette. Lean back against the front door, think about the girl, where she might be, what she might be doing, who she might be with. Assume she's with her best girl-friend. Look back the way they came and change direction. Xander heads to Buffy's apartment, Spike heads to Willows.

Setting her case down on the platform beside her, Willow sighed deeply. What was she doing? What did she plan to achieve by running away? She didn't have the answers to these questions, anymore than she knew what she was going to do from here on with her crazy mixed-up life.

Thirty minutes she had to wait, then she was out if this town, but Willow knew that running from the town, running from him, that was the easy part. Running from her problems would be much harder, she wasn't even sure if it were possible. The only things the young red-head knew for certain was that she loved Xander too much, and if she stuck around she was going to end up telling him, and soon.

Twenty eight minutes to go and 'this is the right thing to do' she told herself, taking a deep breath, reminding herself all the problems and upset it could cause if the truth got out, if she told her best friend how she really felt, told him she was in love with him and had been for some time. She saw all the pain Spike was in and he was so much stronger than her, stronger than anyone. Realising his feelings for Buffy, knowing he couldn't tell her because he'd only make things worse, it was tearing him apart.

Twenty five minutes to go and Willow felt selfish for leaving. Spike needed his friends right now, as Buffy seemed to be slipping from his grasp. She herself and Xander had both told him things would be okay, that he'd never lose her, but they both knew Angel was manipulative and had such a hold over their female friend that there was a possibility he could drive a permanent wedge between her and her old best friend.

fifteen minutes to go, Willow slumped down on a bench. Watched a train pull in for another destination. People got on, people got off. A dark haired girl, maybe twenty years old, waited close to the edge, wandered up and down looking through windows, a sad expression on her face.

Twelve minutes to go, the red-head watched feeling wretched for the random girl until a smile threatened to split said girls face in two. She began to run, straight down the platform towards a fair haired young man of similar age.

Eleven minutes to go until Willow's train an she continues to watch in awe as the young mans suitcases are abandoned, thrown haphazardly to the ground as what is presumably his girlfriend comes within his reach. Her feet leave the floor as he sweeps her up, kisses her soundly, spins her around until she laughs aloud and begs to have ground beneath her feet as she kisses him over and over.

Nine minutes to go and the couple leave hand in hand, smiles on their faces, love evidently in their hearts. Willow observes it and wonders how it's possible, such a fairytale for these two, it was like watching a movie... 'and they shall live happily ever after' she thought, somewhat sadly, 'just because they followed their hearts'

Five minutes until the next train out of town departs from Sunnydale, a red-head on the station platform, drags the back of her left hand across her face to remove the salt water that has spilt from her eyes. She digs in her pocket for the ticket she bought just a few minutes before, stares at it like it will give her every answer she requires - it doesn't.

A train pulls into the station and people get on and people get off, and a flurry of tiny pieces of paper flutter in a breeze like confetti, as a red-headed girl picks up her suitcase and leaves the station, heading towards Xander's apartment, a new decision made.

Tears streamed down her face as she came out of the front door of the clinic. This wasn't even it, it wasn't over, it had only just begun, but now she had a date and time when it really would be done.

Three days and she'd be just one person again, not the one and a little bit she was now. And it hurt, knowing that, but it would be a relief too, she told herself, to be rid of the pain of worrying about it. It seemed callous and unfeeling to call it an it, but it wasn't a person wasn't big enough to be a him or a her, it was simply an it, but it was her it, hers and Angels and as much as she told herself she was doing the right thing, quoting her lover in her mind, a nagging voice, more in her heart than her head, told her what she was about to do was wrong.

As Buffy stood outside the clinic, she realised the only place she wanted to be was in his arms, not Angels, but Spikes. Whenever he held her it seemed like the whole world went away, all the badness and all her troubles dissipated, evaporated to nothing whilst she was there in his arms. It was strange to think he bought her more comfort than the man she was supposedly in love with, whom she was convinced she wanted to marry someday.

'It's just because I've known him so long' she told herself, unsure whether that was the whole truth, but not daring to open another can of feeling related worms right now. But she did need someone, she did need Spike. She wasn't sure if she could tell him the truth about what she had planned, what she and Angel had planned, as regards the unborn, barely existent, child she carried. He was her best friend and she used to tell him everything, quite literally, but things had changed over time and it felt sometimes like...well, she was not scared to tell him things as such, more nervous of his opinion.

Spike was Buffy's favourite person in all the world, and she loved him, in a much different way to that in which she loved Angel, but it meant just as much. She wanted him to be proud of her, have respect and love for her, desperately wanted for him to think she was good, and it worried her sometimes that the halo he seemed to think she wore would slip and fall if she told him certain things.

Every other time she'd worried, she had eventually told him anyway and his reaction had never been as bad as she'd expected. He'd never yelled at her or been mean to her, or ashamed of her...at least, not until a few days ago.

But not that much had changed, had it? Not really, she and Spike were still best friends, they had always sworn nothing would change that. Without thinking about it, her auto-pilot seemed to be taking he to his apartment. Buffy hadn't really paid attention to where her feet were taking her as she crossed roads and covered the pavement at a moderate speed.

It was only as she arrived outside his apartment block that she'd realised where she was and why she was there. She needed love and support and comfort, all the things Spike gave to her without question. She still wasn't sure, as she climbed the stairs to his apartment, if she would tell him the whole truth, everything about Angels and the baby and the ultimatum. Spike did not approve of her seeing Angel anyway, especially since he discovered the 'great ponce' as he took delight in calling him, was a married man. Buffy knew her having her lovers baby had not gone down well with Spike either, but he had said he'd help her and support her and be there for her no matter what. Besides, lying to her greatest friend was not something Buffy liked to do, in fact she couldn't remember ever really deceiving him, unless you count surprise birthday parties and general teasing and the like.

Buffy wasn't sure that it were possible for her to look the man in the eye and tell a complete travesty of a untruth. Even if she could, the girl was almost certain Spike would see through her like glass.

As she reached the door to his apartment, she reached into her purse for the spare key he'd given her on the day he'd moved in. 'You're welcome here anytime, pet' he'd told her with that grin of his that seemed to be infectious a bit that always made her smile too, she did so now just at the thought.

The key almost made it to the lock, before Buffy changed her mind and put the metal object away again. Today it did not feel right, almost as if all that had happened had invalidated the promise that she was eternally welcome in Spike's home.

Instead of barging in as planned, she raised a fist and tapped on the door. Waiting for a reply, she wondered how she would start this conversation, what she'd say and what his reaction might be. The last thing Buffy needed was another fight, especially not with Spike.

After a moment, Buffy knocked again, a little louder this time, guessing that perhaps her friend had the radio on or was in the shower and hadn't heard her first, lighter, knock.

When no reply came even then, the girl surmised he must be out, which was strange, she realised. It was Saturday which meant Spike could be at work, but she knew for a fact he only worked every other Saturday and last Saturday had been a work day for him, she remembered specifically because she'd asked him to come shopping with her and he'd reminded her that he couldn't... 'Some of us have to work, luv, remember?' he'd said, she remembered clearly, 'Maybe next weekend'

Well, here was next weekend and shopping was the last thing on anyone's mind. But if Spike wasn't working, was he not usually still in bed at...Buffy checked her watch...ten thirty on a Saturday?

Maybe today was different, she mused, it was certainly a different kind of day for her in no uncertain terms, and not in a particularly good way.

Turning from the door she knew so well, Buffy headed back down the stairs the way she had come just moments before, taking her cellphone from her purse as she reached the doors.

To Be Continued...