The Road Home
Summary: AU; everyone's human. Buffy Summers dodges family and friends to escape her wedding and make it back home, single. But when she returns to L.A., she finds herself stuck with a grumpy, homeless roommate without who, she soon finds, home wouldn't be home at all.
Disclaimer: 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and all associated with it belongs to Mutant Enemy, Fox, Joss Whedon etc. I own squat.

3. Glitter Green

He wished he'd thought this through.

He'd started fidgeting in his chair the instant he'd opened his menu card and seen the long, foreign names of dishes with the huge, unfamiliar prices. While his dinner-guest pointed excitedly at foods he'd never heard of before, Will wondered how many nights at a cheap motel he could have spent in exchange for how much this meal was going to cost. Anyone who could tell what was going through Will's head right now and also knew who his dad was would've wondered why, exactly, was money a problem with the young man. After all, he was rich, right?

Wrong. Will wasn't rich; his dad was. And Rupert Giles was a man of principles and according to his philosophy, you only got what you worked for. And, till date, 27 year old Will had hardly worked, in his dad's eyes. And as just recently Will had fled from New York to San Francisco for Drusilla, who then dumped him and he rushed off to Los Angeles without his father's approval, Will was short of cash.

But not so short that he wouldn't blow all he had on an extravagant dinner with the neighbor of the roommate of an old college friend of his.

Said neighbor looked stunning tonight in a short, well-fitted dress of black, her shoulder length auburn hair looking shorter as it was curled to perfection. So, instead of worrying how much this evening would cost him, Will snapped shut the menu card and instead stared at Willow.

Twice the waiter came; twice he was waved away discreetly by Will. As he admired the way one particular lock of hair fell into her face, Willow looked up. Her glittering green eyes met his; she smiled. No dimples, he noticed idly. Oh, well. They weren't all that mattered.

His eyes moved all over her face. When they came to her perfectly painted lips, he noticed they were moving. He blinked, realizing she was talking, and snapped his attention to her words as she finished – "So, what do you think? Should we?"

He blinked once more, and said with an apologetic smile, "Sorry, I wasn't listening. You . . . distracted me otherwise." His lips moved into a practiced, flirty smirk that set heart aflutter wherever he went.

She grinned. He was taken aback. Not the ideal response to one of his direct advances, but there was something different about Willow, something he couldn't put his finger on. "I said, did you take up French in school? Because I didn't, and I've been pretending I know what I'm pointing at, but what I thought was pork ribs turns out to be snails, so should we ask the waiter to suggest? Or should we go somewhere else?"

"It's your evening, pet. You decide. 'm new to L.A., don't really know good restaurants 'round. You tell me.'

She coiled a strand of hair around her finger, thinking. Then, with a sigh, she said, "I have no idea, Will. Fancy place wise, I suck. If you want to break out of the 'elegant, exquisite and expensive' frame," she said, emphasizing with air quotes, "we've got lots of cheap, dirty but excellent bars and fast food joints to choose from.

"My favorite is this hot-dog stand near the marina only locals know about, and it's free from tourists and very serene, especially at night. You've got the sea breeze in your hair, the salty tang of the ocean everywhere and the noises of the local bands playing nearby mingle with the sounds of the wave. It's just. . ." she sighed, "so peaceful."

He grinned. If she talked so passionately of the place, it must be worth seeing. "Well, pet, then what're you waiting for? Let's go."

She blinked, then blushed. "But we can't just leave without having something. How embarrassing!"

She stood up, nonetheless, and he held out the chair for her. As he wrapped her silvery, gauzy slip of a shawl around her slim shoulders, Will grinned and said, "' think we're doing the snails a favor, luv."

Wait. Stop. Don't.

I think I know what you're going to say. You're going to ask me if I've lost my mind, whether I'm in my senses, what the hell I think I'm doing, where I am, when I plan to return, yadda yadda yadda. Here, on this small scrap of cheap stationery, you'll get all your answers and more.

I'm leaving. Not just London, but this wedding, this relationship. It's terribly selfish of me to do this with hardly a month left, but I'm sorry, all of you. I just can't take it any more.

Angel, you are perfect; you're smart, successful, kind, loving, caring, handsome- everything a girl wants and more. But I'm not. I'm not perfect, Angel, I'm still evolving. You were surprised, shocked even, when we met again on the beach two years back at how I'd changed since high school. You weren't exactly pleased by it, I know. But I'm still going to change. I'm going to turn into something else, something you may not like, and then what happens? Do we walk away again? I'm not going to be able to go through that pain, not for a second time, with you. When I marry, I need to know it's going to be forever, till death do us part. I can't feel that with you, at least not right now.

I've never had much patience. But I need patience, because I'm cookie dough. And, I'm not done baking yet. I don't know when I'll be done, I don't know whether you'll wait for me. I shouldn't decide for you, but you've done it for me all my life, so just this once, I'm taking charge: don't wait for me, Angel. For this way lies endless pain. For us both. You don't deserve half-done cookies, Angel. You deserve more, more than me.

I have no idea where I'm going. NotD.C., not L.A. Too much of us there for me to feel okay. I'm not estranging you from my life; I need time before I can face the guilt when I see you again. Please don't look for me, and if somehow you do find me, leave me alone till I am alright again. This goes for you too, Anya and Xan.

All my love,

Buffy

"Think I'm okay enough to travel?"

"Depends on where you want to go."

A snort. "Well, duh. I'm not going to go to Manila, now, am I?"

"With you, who knows?"

"I'll choose to ignore that quip. I want to head back to L.A."

"Wait a few days."

"I would, but seats are a problem."

"Have you booked?"

"No, but it looks to me as though more than half of your city feels like heading to mine to make it a mess of noisy, intolerant, loud and obnoxious tourists."

"Need I remind you you nearly defined yourself, back there?"

"Ha ha, very funny, look how I hold my stomach and laugh. Now, tell me; should I go?"

"Since when does anything I say stop you from doing what you want?"

"Since when does it stop you from giving me advice?"

"If it's so unwanted, why ask for it now?"

"Since when did you start arguing?"

"Since when did you start taking notice?"

"Since when do I not?"

"When will you come out of your denial?"

"I'm not in denial!"

Tara grinned. "Finally. I thought we'd just sit here firing questions and never get around to talking."

Buffy fumed. "I was having fun," she muttered, throwing down the Times and sipping her coffee. "Always ruin my fun, why don't you."

"Aw, come on. Let's get back on track. You want to go back to L.A. . .?"

"Yeah, and it's hard to get tickets. Why do people find California synonymous with the summer?"

"The beaches, that's why. What tickets are available?"

"Um, the day after, or its two weeks form yesterday."

"Oh."

"Mm hmm. See why I can't wait, now?"

"Yeah, I do. Anyhow, you don't have fever anymore so I guess its okay. I was asking you to wait because I have a seminar in L.A. in a week or so, but my ticket's already booked. Can't really ask you to wait; won't be fair on a globetrotter like you."

Buffy smiled, "You're coming to L.A.?"

"Yeah, but only for two weeks or so, most of which will be spent at the seminar."

"Doesn't matter. Anya and Xander planned to tour Europe before the wedding; I don't think they're going to rush back now. No hurry, after all. It might get a bit lonely at home; I'd like it if you stayed with me."

"I'd have stayed there anyway." When Buffy grinned, Tara continued, shifting up her paper to hide her face, "Where else can you get free accommodations and food, after all?"

When she peeked over the top edge of the newspaper, a small cushion hit her squarely in the face. Tara burst out laughing. She met Buffy's jade eyes, and the smaller blonde stuck out her tongue.

"Meanie."

"Dan used to bring me here." Willow's words broke the comfortable silence between her and Will. "We loved walking this way . . ." She motioned at their bare feet with the arm that wasn't linked with one of his.

His throat tightened a bit at the mention of this Dan person, but he pushed it aside. "Are you saying you always ate so much that you had to take a walk afterwards?" He teased lightly.

She grinned. "Always."

Will let out a bark of laughter, then retreated into his thoughts. One arm linked with her delicate one, the other holding their shoes, he answered all her questions as he pondered his own. The girl hadn't replied to any of his advances that evening. All his sexual innuendo, eyebrow raises and scorching looks over her body seemed wasted. All she could do was blather on and on about tourism, economy, her job at the University and some upcoming conference. Hardly date-topics. In fact, she seemed to warm up to him easily, but not in the way he expected. In fact . . .

"So, what happened with Dan?" The words burst form him before he could control them. His eyes widened, knowing he was in for it now; he'd broken the decrees of social conduct during courtship . . .

Willow just shrugged, hardly looking uncomfortable. "She wasn't at ease in her own skin, I guess. Always tense and uptight, always feeling someone was judging her. Dan was very insecure."

Will nodded thoughtfully. "I see . . ." While actually he did not. At ease? Tense and uptight? What for?

"Maybe because she'd just come out, but I never understand why some people are so ashamed of themselves. I mean, come on! They should understand themselves and take pride in their sexuality. The Gay Pride parade isn't that useless; I told Dan she should listen. We're here, we're queer; get over it! She should embrace herself first, only then . . ."

Will's eyes had widened when she started speaking, her words snapping him to attention. Now it looked as though they would burst right out of their sockets. He swallowed through this suddenly dry throat and managed to wheeze out, "H-hold on. Dan . . . D-dan's a girl!"

Willow nodded, oblivious to his shock. "Yeah. Danielle. Calls herself Dan, as though that'll make her normal. I tell you, I've had some of the weirdest girlfriends and . . . hey, Will, you dropped the shoes. Hey, are you okay?"