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: You asked for it, so let me know what you think.

25. Wrong Kind of Flame

Buffy held Will's gaze, her eyes wide and his narrowed, for a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Then, grasping Willow's hand, she told the redhead, "Willow, take Tara and go, please. I'll call you later."

Swallowing, Willow nodded and silently left. The two blondes heard her talking softly to Tara, Tara's high voice of concern and then the front door closed quietly, leaving the two alone.

The thud of the door seemed to announce movement for Will. Instantly, he bent against the counter where he was standing, hands holding the edge and low shoulders, head bowed. Buffy moved forwards to comfort him instinctively, but froze when she realized she was the reason of his shake-up. She stood there, halfway across the room, hand outstretched, biting her lip, until Will spoke.

"Tell me that wasn't your fiancé."

Buffy swallowed. Hard. Her hand dropped uselessly to her side and she fidgeted with the edge of her top as she stood there, silent.

"Tell me, Buffy. Was that your fiancé?" His voice was flat, emotionless.

Buffy wondered whether she preferred this voice or the other, hard, mocking one. Again, she didn't answer, choosing to look at her shoes instead.

"Elizabeth?" He sounded small, desperate and the word was like a whimper. Buffy looked up in alarm and saw him looking towards her, a lost expression on his face. "Please, luv... was that your fiancé?"

She didn't have a choice, now. Slowly, as though uttering a death sentence, she nodded and said, "Yes."

Will looked away. He stared at the marble countertop as though it held all his answers, the stiff, hard lines of his back forbidding Buffy from speaking. Somewhere in his mind, he'd known that it was true. But to hear it from her mouth... for her to say it...

"Will..." Buffy spoke when she felt the silence had stretched for eons. Her brows bent, concern for him filling her as she took in this new facet of the multidimensional personality of the man she loved. He was slumped against the counter in defeat, his expression lost, pained and completely displaced. She was unsure of how to deal with this man, but she knew she couldn't stand the silence. "Please... say something..."

"What's left to say, Buffy?" His voice sounded raw and hollow.

Her nickname from his lips seemed like a curse. She flinched. But it gave her a little strength and she stepped forwards, moving to stand behind him. A trembling hand came to rest in the small of his back and she moved it up and down in soothing gestures, hoping to calm him, while she leaned her head against his shoulder.

It seemed to do the trick. Will let out a long sigh, straightened a bit and leaned his head back, resting it against hers. Encouraged, she moved her other hand and it came to rest on his stomach. Will covered her hand with his, and warmth flooded her body at the touch.

"It's over with him now, Will." She said so quietly, feeling the need to explain Angel's disturbing message. "Really. He probably just called to go over things like... l-like the wedding invitations! I'm not sure they were sent out and i-if they were, w-we'll have to get them back and—

"Buffy." Will sounded tired, now, and yet understanding. "That's alright, pet. You don't have you justify my—

"No, but, see, I did break it off!" Buffy interrupted him, indignant towards Angel. "I left London! Shouldn't he understand, by now?"

"Yeah, well, ol' Liam always was kind of thick."

Buffy snorted in response. But then, after a lingering, yet tense, moment, both of them stiffened as his words hit them.

Buffy, nose pressed against the denim of his jacket, took in a shocked breath. Will's eyes widened as he realized what he'd let slip.

"'Ol' Liam'?... Will," Buffy asked him, in a stunned voice, "Do... do you know Liam Spencer?"

Will winced. If she'd said 'Angel', he might have been able to play dumb. But, nooo, she just had to say 'Liam Spencer' so he couldn't lie... "Yeah." He shrugged off the word, his voice casual. "He's my cousin."

Buffy pulled away from him, looking at the back of his platinum head incredulously. "What!" Her voice was shocked, her hands now light against his arms. "You know... you and Angel... oh my God," She pulled away from him completely, now, a shaky hand flying up to above her chest. "I-I think I n-need to sit..."

Will turned to look at her as she sank into a chair and ran to get her a bottle of water. Buffy, her head between her hands that rested on her knees, was quietly muttering to herself, disbelieving.

"'Lizabeth?" His soft, accented voice made her look up. "Water?"

Buffy gratefully, unsteadily took the cup and drank from it, aware she was spilling some of it but uncaring. She watched him with one hazel eye as he leaned before her, on one knee, and suddenly, unprovoked, her anger rose. Draining the cup, she slammed it onto the table beside her and stared at Will.

"You're Angel's brother."

"Cousin. First cousins, though as far as I care I'm not—

"You're related to him?"

Will tilted his head to one side and looked at her. Something dangerous was sparking up in her eyes. The scales seemed to have shifted, now, and it seemed she was the one who was... "Elizabeth," He said suddenly, "Are you upset?"

Buffy laughed. It was a harsh, unfeeling and cold laugh that frightened Will; he didn't know she was capable of that. "Upset, William? Of course not — why would I be upset?" She stood, abruptly, and started pacing the length of the kitchen. "Just because you've hidden from me that you're Angel's cousin? No, that's silly. That you don't trust me enough to believe that I've finished things with him? Of course not! And it certainly can't be because Angel can't respect my feelings and, when I wrote in the note to 'Leave me alone', God forbid he should leave me alone!"

Will stared. The Buffy he had seen the past months was a sweet, clever, spunky and intelligent girl who seemed to have too much of a good thing: patience. After the first few days of her initial inklings towards him, she'd been good to him all the time. Now, at the height of her ire, eyes wide and glittering, her hands motioning to the doors and walls, she was scary. Will was worried.

But more than that, he was curious. When she mentioned 'note', his interest was piqued. And before she could restart her tirade about why she wasn't angry, he interrupted.

"What note?"

Buffy frowned, her train of thought crashing. She looked at him with narrowed eyes as she decelerated her pacing. "Note?" She echoed.

Will took a great risk and nodded. "You mentioned a note."

Something clicked in her eyes. They widened. "Oh my... he didn't get it, did he?..." She groped, suddenly, behind her for a chair and reached the fridge, leaning against it, looking decidedly white.

Will frowned and got up from the floor. "Buffy?" He approached her, his brow furrowed in worry. "Are you alright?"

Buffy grabbed the lapels of his jacket and said, in a whisper, "Will... he didn't get my note!" She let go of him as abruptly and started pacing again, an agitated hand running through her hair. "He thinks we're still engaged!"

"What?"

She looked at him as though she noticed his presence for the first time. Swallowing hard, she stretched out a helpless hand towards him. He came to it, cursing himself as he did, for being love's bitch. He took her soft hand and kissed her knuckles, leading her to the table and helping her into a seat. "I-I need to tell you something, Will." Buffy spoke hesitantly, looking at where their hands joined rather than into his eyes.

"Is it 'bout Liam?" His voice was quiet, but it spoke in volumes of the feeling behind it.

She nodded.

He swallowed. "Shoot." He managed to wheeze.

Buffy took a heaving breath and a slight shudder passed her slim frame. "Wh-when I went to London last month, Angel w-wasn't there. He was in Rome, for some kind of me-meet. I had a week to myself before Anya and Xan arrived. And, when I was alone, I got time to think of my decision to marry him. And..." Buffy swallowed, again, and spoke again, encouraged by his reassuring nod, "and I realized I couldn't marry him." She said this so simply he couldn't doubt her. "I-I just couldn't, I knew that. I know the reasons but... b-but they're some-something I wasn't sure he'd understand. I didn't know if I could exp-explain to him. So I did the next best thing: I ran out."

But, you know, Xander, Anya, Angel; all of them would be arriving in a week. They needed to know what I was doing. So, I left a note at the reception. I think Angel prolonged his trip in Rome and Anya got the note. I'd written that I wasn't coming here to L.A. or D.C., so they didn't call me. My phone was damaged— I was too scared of the call I knew Angel would make, so I didn't g-get it fixed. Anya emailed me. She said she understood. She said he needed to know and that I'd have to tell him. I... I didn't reply."

I thought Anya and Xander would tell him. But Anya's kind of stubborn, too. I... I guess that she wants me to tell him. But he doesn't know that. He," She swallowed here, her eyes still downcast, "thinks we're still engaged. And he wants me to come to London, again, so we can work things out." She bit her lip, hard. "I didn't tell him."

The silence that stretched between the two was long and hard. Then, slowly, Will slipped his fingers out of hers. Buffy, shocked and hurt, looked up at him through eyes that sparkled with unshed tears. Will looked away, refusing to hold her gaze.

"I... I need to go away, Buffy..." He stood up, knocking the chair to the floor. He seemed not to notice. He walked away but paused at the door. Turning halfway to her, Will said to the floor, "I... I think that was the worst of all things you can do to a person who loves you, Buffy. I can't imagine something more horrible. Maybe you're innocent... but, still. I don't think you can hurt him more than when he finds out the truth. I'm going out for a while. I-I can't be around you right now." He moved to walk out, but stopped. "I'm sorry."

And then, he did walk out.