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.

A/N: Thanks in bunches for correcting me on the Maclay thing. I've lost my Word copy of the first four chapters, and I'm too lazy to find the one on this site and save it. Let me know what you think!

11. Girl Talk

"Hey. I'm Tara McClay."

Willow grinned and put down the sign. "Hi, Tara. I'm Willow Rosenberg, Buffy's neighbor."

Tara blinked. "Oh." She looked around, and said, "Is Buffy here?"

Willow shook her head, and her ponytail loosened further. "No, she's ill and Will's taking care of her, so I had to come instead. See, I just came home from work!" She pointed at her black skirt and white blouse. Her stomach, however, interrupted their inspection of her clothes. Apologetically, she put her hands down and said, "Sorry. Really hungry is all. Hey, do you want to grab your baggage so we can get home before all the food is gone? Or would you like to eat outside somewhere?

Tara grinned at the redhead's eagerness. She shrugged gently and said, "Sure. Whatever is comfortable with you is fine by me."

"Great." And Willow started moving towards the baggage claim. "We'll grab some food at this café I know nearby. I'm telling you, they make the crunchiest fries you've ever had . . ."

Buffy woke to the feel of a cool hand on her forehead. She smiled, leaning into the touch and covered the hand with her own. "Will," she whispered.

A giggle filled her bedroom, and it wasn't the vibrating chuckle of the man she was thinking of. Come to think of it, as she slid into consciousness, she noticed that Will's hands had suddenly turned incredibly soft overnight. Or, perhaps it wasn't Will at all . . . ?

Buffy opened her eyes to open windows and as she blinked in the light, a familiar voice said, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

Buffy squinted, trying to confirm the speaker was . . . "Tara?"

Dimly, her friend came into view. Tara was looking at her watch, and she corrected herself. "Or rather, good afternoon."

Buffy sat up in bed and threw herself at the other blonde. Knocking Tara down, she grinned and sat back in her place, saying "Good to see you!"

Tara got up with a moan, rubbing her back where the edge of the bed had rammed into it. She gave Buffy a once over, disapproving, and abruptly started firing questions. "What do you think you're doing, wearing boxers to bed when you have fever?"

Buffy blinked, but not because of the light. "What. Are. You. Talking. About?"

Tara rolled her eyes. "You. I know you've got fever, and yet you wear shorts to sleep? You kept your windows open, too! And what medicines have you been taking? Has this room been cleaned as of late," She started looking around, "because it seems to me as though—"

"Tara!" Buffy had to yell. "Stop, okay? Please, simmer down." When Tara's only response was a glare, she continued, "Now, if you've noticed my shorts, have you also noticed the thick blanket I'm using?" It was Tara's turn to blink. "And the windows were only opened fully in the morning, Tara. At night they were undone just a crack so I wouldn't suffocate. Will did that, not me. And the only reason for this room's dustiness is because I locked it before I left for London. If you look at any other room, it's all spick and span, really. Will's a very good cleaner, you know. It's his entire job."

Tara's gaze turned critical again. "That's another thing: who is this Will character? You and Willow go on about him as though he's a god, or something—"

Buffy brightened. Then, hiding her curiosity, she said in the most nonchalant way, "Oh, so you met Willow?"

Tara waved it aside. "Yeah, yeah. She came to pick me up yesterday. But, tell me, Buffy, who is this guy? He's living in your house, you know, and he has been for, what, two weeks? How do you know he's okay, and, well, safe to be around? Really, I thought you were a better—"

"So, what do you think of Willow?"

"She's lovely, though has a funny sense of decoration. But, you still haven't told me—"

"Oh, Tara, lighten up! He's Anya's friend, she's convinced me he's A-Okay. Plus, I've been with him for two days, now. He's good, okay. But how do you know about Willow's weird decoration sense?"

Tara looked surprised. "Well, I slept over at her place so obviously I'll know."

Now it was Buffy's turn to be surprised. "You slept over at her place!"

Tara looked almost defensive as she said, "Yeah, well I got here so late nobody would open the door, so Willow offered to take me over to her place."

Buffy frowned. "Well, then how come you're here?"

Tara shrugged. "Willow has a spare key, right?" Buffy nodded. "That's how. I slept in a bit, was really tired, so we came here a bit late. Willow's downstairs, making your breakfast now."

"Willow's here?" This was turning out to be quite a morning—er, afternoon. "She didn't go to work?"

Tara shook her head. "Who'd let me in when I woke up if she went?"

Buffy had to hide a smile. Tara was so quick when it came to taking care of people, but sometimes she was just so clueless, it was fun. "Tara," Buffy said gently, then louder as she heard steps outside, "If Willow had a spare key, why didn't she let you in last night itself?"

Tara frowned. The steps outside quickened, and just as a confused Tara said, "Well, I—", the door burst open and Willow broke in, loudly, "Hey, Buffy! How're you feeling? I got you your breakfast!"

Tara stared at Willow, who looked somewhat like a strawberry with a red face, framed by red hair. Buffy turned her chuckles into coughs, and Tara's attention came back to Buffy.

As Tara hit Buffy on the back, Willow put a tray in front of her and stepped back. Unseen to Tara, Buffy winked at Willow and made her blush even more. Swallowing, Willow handed Buffy a folded note. "I guess that's from Will," she said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Abruptly, Buffy stopped coughing and sat up. Tara pulled away, frowning, but didn't say much as Buffy's hazel eyes skimmed over the words: Needed to run a few errands. Will be back around four. Don't worry, I'll get your cereal and Pop Tarts. Take your medicines on time and, pet, try not to tax yourself. Have fun. Will.

"He doesn't seem very considerate," Tara mumbled, reading over Buffy's shoulder. But Buffy didn't pay any attention to her, fingers that yesterday had traced Angel's face now touching the firm cursive words in ink.

She wished Will hadn't left. After waking up to his presence in the house for two days, it felt odd. And considering the way things had been left between the two of them last night, she felt for him the same guilt she still throbbed with for Angel.

Forcing herself to look up from the paper, she looked at her friends. "Thanks, guys," She said, smiling. "Really. Thanks for picking Tara up, Willow, and thanks for taking care of me, Tara." She reached out with slim arms and pulled them both into a hug. Not noticing their heads had banged together, she said, "You guys are the best," and followed it with a small sniffle.

Wrenching apart, Willow looked at Buffy, panicked, and asked, "Buffy, are you PMSing?"

Buffy laughed, and then broke into tears. The scrap of paper was crumpled in her fist as she curled into a ball on her bed and started sobbing, almost hysterical. Willow looked at Tara, alarmed, and Tara nodded in response.

Biting her lip, Tara crept over Buffy and stroking her hair, said in a whisper, "Hey, Buff. What's wrong?" Her only response was to weep louder, and Tara, rubbed her temples with her free hand, and continued softly, "Okay, this is about Angel, isn't it? You're feeling guilty, again?"

Willow frowned, and started to say, "What about—"

Tara stopped her from speaking further with a finger to her lips. Turning back to Buffy, she said, "You don't have to say much. You're feeling bad because you've broken it off with Angel, and he doesn't even know. Because of his ignorance, you know you have the chance to go back, right?" Buffy moved her head slowly, and it seemed to be a nod. "And the fact that even though you have the chance to correct what you think is wrong, and you've decided not to, makes you even guiltier.

"Well Buffy, let me tell you something. Look at me, Buff," Tara gently shook her arms, persuading Buffy to look at her. "Buffy. Look at me." Buffy turned herself this time, looking at Tara with red, puffy eyes. "Now, listen to me clearly, and get this into your head because I'm tired of telling you the same thing over and over again: You did the right thing. Is it really that hard to comprehend? I'm telling you, in breaking things off with Angel, you have spared yourself and him years. Years that could have been spent in unfulfilled expectations, half hearted compromises, and resulted in a broken marriage. You've saved yourselves years, Buffy. When you part right now, it'll be slightly bitter, guilty and hurt but if you go ahead with this wedding, you will part, and I'm saying it only because I know you, and then, it'll be ten times worse."

The room was etched in silence for a while, Buffy's wide hazel eyes asking Tara's grey ones for comfort. Willow looked on with a hand over her mouth, eyes widened in amazement. In a while, Buffy smiled; it was a bleak smile, but nevertheless, it cheered Tara up and she leaned to give Buffy a hug.

When they broke apart, Buffy looked at Willow and said, eyes downcast, "I broke it off with Angel. The ring is in our joint deposit box, and I've left him a note. He hasn't got it yet. That's why I'm here," she put up her ring finger and said, "unattached."

Willow smiled sadly. "You didn't tell me."

Buffy nodded, still not looking at her. "We didn't get any time alone, did we?"

Willow sighed, then crawled to where Buffy was and hugged her too. The three of them lay together for a while, comforting Buffy, then Willow said, "We're lucky I've still got the movies from yesterday." Pulling apart, she grinned and asked, "Anyone up for quoting Jack Sparrow?"

The other two were silent for a while, then Buffy said, "That's Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow, you idiot."

Will came home late that night, laden with bags. He snuck into the dark house on his tiptoes, was cautionary to close the front door silently, deposited the bags noiselessly in the foyer and had reached the first landing when he noticed the dim glow that seemed to be coming from the living room. Frowning, he skulked down the stairs, again, and listened carefully. A low crunching noise and snores seemed to be coming from the couch. He warily peeked into the room and was relieved, somewhat, at what he saw.

Buffy, Willow and a dirty blonde (as far as he could tell in the partial dark) who he presumed was Tara were huddled on the couch before the television. A number of sheets seemed to surround them, as did bags of chips and bowls of dip. Not even one girl, however, was covered properly. Will sneaked up and gently pulled and tugged at the sheets, disentangling them from one another and draping them over the girls. He paused for a second to see what they had been watching, and grinned at Johnny Depp being slapped, twice in a row by two different girls. He was still chuckling as he leant forwards to put it off but he heard a low moan of protest.

Looking back at the couch, he tried to make out who had made the noise. His eyes went directly to Buffy's and stayed. Even dimly lit, her eyes were beautiful.

Will smiled. "Still up?" He whispered.

She shrugged, trying to get comfortable with her bag of Doritos. "Waiting for you." And her eyes went back to the movie.

He walked over to the side of the couch, perching on the part of its arm she wasn't draped across. He frowned at her answer and said, "Why?"

She hit 'Pause' on the DVD remote, and turned her full attention to him. "Cause you said you'd be here by four and you weren't. Now, please let me watch Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom?" She sounded mildly irritated.

He rolled his eyes, scoffing. "That's Geoffrey Rush and Keira Knightley, pet. Don't try to kid me." He looked at her through opaque eyes, and asked, with a tilt of his head, "Were you worried about me?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Yeah, right." A flash of hurt flitted across his face, so small she didn't believe that she saw it. "Just, you know, wondering whether I should lock the door. Didn't know whether you'd come back home tonight."

He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Didn't know whether I'd come home tonight." He echoed, looking at her with an expression she found hard to read.

"Yeah." He nodded again and got up to leave, after a brush of his knuckles to her cheek. She couldn't help it; as he stepped out the doorway, she said, as loud as she could, "Why? Did I say something wrong?"

He stopped at the doorway, and it was funny to see half of him in the dark, half in the light. He smiled a smile she could only call wry, and he said, "You said home."

"So?"

"Home, pet. You accept this as home, mine and yours."

Buffy was thoughtful for a second. Then she smiled, a smile much like Will's. "Yeah," she said, "Yeah, I guess I do."

He gave her a mock salute and said, "Well, goodnight, then, pet." She said the same, and he left the room. He heard her again when he was on the stairs. Returning to the living room, he cocked his head at her questioningly.

Buffy swallowed, and said, through a dry throat, "I guess," she kept her tone lighthearted and as casual as possible, "I was a bit worried about you."

Will couldn't help it. He smirked. "A bit."

"Yeah, a bit."

He looked at her knowingly, and said, "Okay, then."

"Yeah." Then, she recovered from her soft moment and said, "Don't get your ego or hopes up, though."

As he backed out of the room with a gaze that left her feeling naked, he said, "Wouldn't dream of it, luv."

A/N: The 'Captain Jack Sparrow' thing is from Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl. I couldn't help it, I love the movie. If you haven't seen it, RENT IT TODAY.