Chapter 33:  Familiar Trouble

Buffy moaned.  Her head felt like it was going to explode.  Please, Lord, make it go away.  I swear I'll never drink again.   It took Buffy a few minutes to remember the events of yesterday, and the fact that she hadn't been drinking.  She quickly stood up, despite the protesting clog dancers in her skull.  Looking around, Buffy tried to figure out where the hell she was. 

Okay, I'm in a room.  White walls, no decorations, small bed, one window and one door.  Focusing on the mundane details helped to quell the rising panic that was coursing through her body.  Okay, how did I get here again?  I met with Angel, he left me an address, walked to my car and…..nothing.  Oh shit, this can't be of the good. 

Buffy paced the small room and tried to force her mind to work.  It was no use.  As hard as she tried, Buffy couldn't recall what happened after she left the diner.  Finally, in a bout of frustration, Buffy began to scream and pound her fists against the door. 

"HELLO?  ANYBODY?  IS SOMEBODY OUT THERE," she screamed, but to no avail.  She continued to scream and yell for the next twenty minutes, but still nothing happened. 

"Fuck," she said, her voice husky and raw from the earlier screaming.  She resumed her pacing. 

The door to her room opened.

She ran towards it, no plan in mind, just running toward a way out.  A body filled the doorway, a familiar body.

"You?" Buffy asked in confusion. 

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Spike was going insane. 

Well, actually, he wasn't technically going insane, but if the Sunnydale Police didn't start listening to him, heads were gonna roll. 

"No, you stupid git, if she told me where she was going, do you think I would even be here?" he asked the rookie in frustration. 

The young man in front of him just smiled and made a placating gesture.  "Now, Mr. Giles, I know you're frustrated.  It's common practice, however, that we ask these questions.   Sometimes, people forget the smallest detail and it turns out to the answer to the entire problem."

Spike was about two seconds away from smacking the pimply faced young man upside his head.  "Listen to me, you little-"

"Spike," Joyce cut him off quickly, "Why don't you go outside, maybe take a breather?  Rupert and I will finish in here."

Spike gave Joyce a grateful look and then walked outside.  The sun blazed brightly and his worry increased by leaps and bounds.  He knew there was something wrong last night, but nobody would listen.  The police saw Buffy's note and insisted that she had just run off.  

Yeah right, she just ran off...  Stupid fucking wanker.  God, please let her be okay.  Restless, Spike pulled out a cigarette.  He inhaled the nicotine into his system, and a calming wave passed through him.  He smiled when he though of Buffy's "Get Spike to stop smoking" campaign.  So far, it was a complete bust, but Buffy was a persistent girl. Spike shook his head.   Is, she is a persistent girl.  Spike refused to think in any terms besides those.  Buffy was coming back to him, he would make sure of it. 

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Willow walked into her apartment and dropped her books.  "Last final of the semester.  Thank God."

Oz smiled at his girlfriend.  As wave a pleasure swept thorough him like it always did when Willow walked into the room.  "Rough day?"

Willow rolled her eyes and collapsed next to him on the couch.  "Only the worst final of my entire existence.  It was so bad; I thought I was going to faint right there in class. I mean, I spent all this time studying for it, and then I got the test and my palms got all sweaty…"

As Willow continued to babble on, Oz played a few practice chords on his guitar.  Since they spent almost all their time together anyway, Oz and Willow just decided that Oz would move in with Willow.  It was a strange sensation.  The ever-wandering guitar player had finally found some roots and settled down.  It was a strange, yet exhilarating experience, have an actual place to call home. 

Oz tuned back into Willow.  "And then I tried to call Buffy, but her cell phone isn't on and nobody is answering at her apartment.  I wonder where Spike it." 

And with that, Willow ran out of steam.  She sat back and propped her feet up on the coffee table.  "Ahh, the sweet release of summer."

Another small grin from the stoic Oz.  "Watch me play tonight?"

Willow nodded.  "Wouldn't miss it for the world.  Got the night off, and nothing is going to stop me.  I only wish I could get a hold of Buffy.  She and I made plans to watch you tonight." 

The couple was silent for a moment, lost in each other's company and their own thoughts.  Finally Oz spoke up.  "Have you tried Giles or Joyce?"

Willow smacked herself on her forehead with her hand.  "Duh.   God, where the hell my mind went, I'll never know."

Willow grabbed her phone and dialed the number to the store.  No answer.  Idly, she watched Oz playing guitar on the sofa.  With wicked thoughts in her mind of what she would do to him, Willow dialed Joyce's cell. 

Oz watched as Willow talked to Joyce.  Her emotions were plainly visible on her expressive face.  Oz knew something was wrong when Willow hung up. 

He waited until she sat down next to him, and Oz pulled Willow into his arms.  "What's wrong, baby?"

Willow took a few deep breaths to stifle her rising anxiety.  "She's at the police station."
 

Before she finished her sentence, Oz was on his feet.  "Let's go."

Clasping hands, the couple left Willow's apartment. 

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Spike took one last drag of his third cigarette, and then crushed his cigarette out.  The sound of a car caught his attention, and Spike looked up to see Willow and Oz screech into the parking lot at breakneck speed.  They tumbled out of the car and ran toward Spike.  He watched them come, somewhat amused to see Oz run. 

They were both out of breath when they reached him.  "Sp-Sp-Spike," Willow managed to puff out. 

Spike raised an eyebrow.  "What's up, Red?"

Willow took a minute to catch her breath.  "Where's Buffy?"

Spike sighed and rolled his shoulders.  "That's the question of the hour."

Willow looked him.  "Huh?"

Spike quickly told Willow and Oz the events of last night and this morning.  The notes, Buffy's disappearance, and now the ineptitude of the police. 

Willow's eyes widened.  She and Oz shared a look, communicating their fears in couple talk.  "What can we do to help?" Oz asked softly. 

Spike shrugged his shoulders.  Restless, he began to pace again.  "I dunno.  She was meetin' with someone, but I don't know where.  I could hazard a guess as to whom, though.  Maybe we start there?"

The couple nodded.  "Who do you think she called?"

Spike looked at them, hurt in his eyes.  "Angel."

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Buffy shook her head, trying to clear the fuzzies.   "What are you doing here?"

A bitter laugh filled her ears.  "I would think that was rather obvious."

I don't understand.  This isn't making any damn sense. 

Buffy blinked her eyes a couple of times.  "Well, make it obvious."

Another laugh, then the door slammed in her face.  "All in due time," a mocking voice called through the door. 

Buffy sat on her bed, lost in shock.  God Almighty, does this mean what I think it does?

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Spike, Oz and Willow spent the rest of the day trying to retrace Buffy's footsteps.  Spike put in a call to Angel, and got the name of the diner where Angel said he met Buffy.  He wouldn't say anything past that, no matter how much Spike threatened him. Somewhat satisfied with the results, Spike and Oz headed for the diner while Willow headed to the store with Joyce and Giles. 

The diner proved to be frustrating for Spike.  Nobody remembered Buffy even being there.  The one woman who remembered serving Angel didn't say anything about his blonde companion. 

"They drank some coffee and then they left," she said in a derisive voice. 

What is it with people and me today?  Do I just rub everybody the wrong way?  Luckily for Spike, Oz stepped in. 

"What kind of coffee?' he asked.

The waitress took a minute.  "House, decaffeinated." 

Oz thought about it.  "Who paid?"

Another pause from the waitress.  "She did.  Left some money on the table."

"Then," Oz prompted. 

"Then I picked up the ticket and saw her go outside.  That's it," the waitress said.  "No, wait.  She didn't go out the front door.  She left through the side door."

Spike shot Oz a look of gratitude.  "Did anybody else go outside with her?"

The waitress shook her head.  "No."

The men thanked the waitress and walked outside toward Spike's car.  Spike turned on the air conditioning and turned to Oz.  "What do you think?"

Oz gave a slight shoulder movement.  "Dunno."

Spike nodded.  Another brick wall.  With heavy thoughts on his mind, Spike put his car in gear.  

Something shiny caught Oz's eye.  Tapping Spike's arm, Oz motioned to the side of the road.  Spike pulled over from the small two-lane road and onto a small dirt shoulder.  Oz got out of the car and walked back toward a small thicket of trees.  Curiosity piqued, Spike followed him. Then sucked in his breath. 

Under the trees, buried in a pile of leaves and twigs, was Buffy's car. 

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A/N: Until next time, my pretties.