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: I've lost quite a few of you guys, I think, with the overdramatic stunt I pulled last Friday. Oh, well: if you've reviewed, thank you so, so much. We've got two to go, so hang on and let me know what you think!

28. Limits

The house was etched in silence that Sunday, the whirring of the machines the only sound heard. Willow and Tara sat in separate rooms with separate people, both silent, both beaten. Both were thinking of what they wanted to say, and what, in the end, they would say.

In Buffy's room, Tara broke the silence first.

"Buffy... this is too much. You're arguing over such little things!"

Buffy, sitting on her bed with her knees drawn close and her arms wrapped around them, said plainly, "He doesn't trust me."

"You know that isn't true."

"No, Tara, I don't know what I know, now. I'm too confused." With a soft sigh, she picked up Mr. Gordo. "The only thing I'm sure of," She said to the pig, "is that this whole relationship was a mistake."

Tara looked up sharply at that. "What do you mean?"

Shrugging, Buffy hugged the pig. "I mean that I rushed into this too quickly. I was hurt and uncollected by the whole thing with Angel, and I took the first chance I got on love, without thinking of the consequences."

Tara, exasperated, said, "But, Buffy, that is true love. Love that doesn't care about the consequences."

Buffy gave a wry smile. "But, Tara, that's the catch: there's always consequences."

Tara thought about this. Then, head bowed in accepted defeat, she went back to pulling off the loose threads on Buffy's bedspread. Buffy, unaffected by her victory, unaffected by anything, picked up her book, The Fountainhead, and read.

"Anything else you want to say, Red, while your girlfriend tries to suss out Buffy?"

Willow looked at him in irritation. "Parker is an asshole. Faith warned Buffy about him. Just because you saw him holding her – or, correction, trying to hold her, considering she pushed him off – it doesn't make Buffy a slut or anything."

Will looked at her with hollow, empty eyes, devoid of even rage. "You said it, pet, not me."

Willow let out a growl of frustration. She brought down her fist, hard, and hit the wood, wincing at the pain. "Why, damn it, must you both be so stubborn!"

Will shrugged, and brought out a pack of cigarettes. He took one, lit up, and offered the pack to Willow. "Want one?"

Willow looked longingly at the Marlboros, but shook her head. "I can't cave into stress like Buffy." The words were out before she could help it.

Will, a flash passing through his eyes, smiled a smile so dry it would bring shame to the Sahara. "See what I mean? I don't know the girl. I didn't know she was engaged to my lovely cousin, didn't know she smoked; I don't know her at all." He let his hand finger, lightly, a pair of earrings of hers that he had stolen and kept in his pocket. Sighing, he said, "Been a bloody waste, these months have."

"You have a lot of time, Will, to get to know her. If you stick around, that is."

Will looked up at her sharply. "How do you know I'm leavi—" His eyes widened slightly, realizing he'd walked into a trap.

Willow didn't even look up from where she was drawing in her pudding with a finger. "I thought you were a coward." She looked up. "I was right."

Will swallowed. "Don't know what I'll do. It-it's so bloody hard, just being in the same house as her. Won't help if I move countries, I think... I'll probably do the next best thing..."

Willow smiled softly. "You can't escape love."

He sighed. "I can try."

Angel gave Buffy almost a week to return his call. On Sunday morning, meeting Xander and Anya at Heathrow, he booked a seat for himself to L.A. on the next flight.

When he got back to the terminal, the couple was there and were looking for him. He spotted them right off but didn't approach them immediately. Instead, he walked to the seats where Cordelia sat, elegant in a dress grey, reading a magazine. She looked up as he approached, a soft smile spreading on her lips, and stood up with the help of his hand. Walking together, hand in hand, Cordelia leaning against Angel's side, they walked to where Anya was trying to convince Xander of something.

Xander looked up when he saw, out of the corner of his dark, warm eyes, Angel approach. Grinning overenthusiastically, he waved, "Angel, my man! Hi! How've you been? So glad you could make it!"

Anya twirled around at the sound of Angel's name. She smiled in greeting, but her sharp eyes automatically shifted from Angel to Cordelia. A thin eyebrow arched and she said, "Hey, Angel, how're you? Who's your friend?"

Xander jabbed Anya with his elbow. As Anya started arguing with Xander, Angel whispered to Cordelia, "They're like that. Lots of fight but that stems from lots of—

"Love," She completed his sentence, leaning back into his body. "I can see it."

When Anya and Xander had been engrossed in themselves for over a minute, Angel cleared is throat discreetly. Instantly, both of them looked at him and Anya blurted out, "Angel, is that your girlfriend?"

Angel and Cordelia turned red. But nobody could match Xander in blushing, at that moment. He said, "Ahn!"

"What?"

"See, this is what I mean! Angel's engaged to Buffy, that's probably his sister or something! He's engaged, Anya, you know what that means? It means he's not having—

"Um, Xander, could you stop for a second?" Angel interfered.

Xander looked at Angel as though seeing him for the first time. He blinked and said, "Sorry. Yeah, so what were you saying?"

Angel gave Cordelia a slight push forwards. "This is Cordelia Chase, guys. My fiancée."

The two minute prolonged silence that followed the statement frightened Cordelia. Anya and Xander looked at her, one pair of dark eyes shocked, the other inquisitive. Feeling the need to break the silence, she said, "H-hi, guys! I've heard a lot about you!"

That seemed to do the trick. Anya grinned and turned to face Xander. "See! I told you! Buffy's not that gutless! She must have told him!" Then, turning to Cordy, she said, "I must congratulate you, Cordelia, Angel's a very fine catch..."

As Anya embarrassed Cordelia, Xander caught Angel's eye. The two men moved aside, away from the chattering women. Xander asked, the second they were out of earshot, "Well? Did she?"

"Did who what?" Angel was baffled.

"Buffy!" Xander sounded exasperated, angry and amazed all at once. "Did you get in touch with her?"

"No, I called her but no response. I'm going to L.A. tomorrow."

Xander frowned and looked at Cordelia, trying to figure something out. "But then... you don't know you're broken up and you're engaged to a woman that isn't Buffy?"

Angel's ears cocked. "What?"

Xander, reddening, reached into his pocket. "Buffy left London before we reached here," He explained, "And left this at the reception for you and us. We got it because you didn't come." He handed Angel an old, crumpled paper.

Angel read, and as his eyes swept over the words that seemed to be penned not in ink, but in stone, a great weight seemed to lift off his shoulders.

He looked up at Xander, who was looking at him apprehensively. He smiled. "Since when have you had this?"

Shrugging, Xander reached for the note. "As long as we've been in Europe."

Angel, holding the paper out of Xander's reach, said, "So... do you think almost two months is a long enough time to be broken up and get reengaged?"

Xander frowned. "You didn't know you were broken up," He accused, "You practically cheated on her!"

Angel regarded Xander with a wry look in his eyes. "Xander, Buffy and I both knew we were trying to make a doomed relationship work. Sooner or later, one of us was going to back away. She did it first. She was intelligent." He waved the note in the air, then pocketed it.

The look on Xander's face was priceless. As Angel turned his back onto Buffy's friend, a part of him was glad to also be turning his back completely, wholly onto a future he had once wished desperately for. He looked at Cordelia with a morbid sort of excitement that stems from deep rooted guilt.

But not for long, he vowed to himself. Cordelia turned half towards him, muted eyes widened as a silent plea for help.

Not for long, Cordy. I'll get rid of the guilt, soon.

Giles sat on his desk, going over papers while ordering his housekeeper to make a great dinner for his nephew, who was bringing his fiancée home for the first time. When the woman, with a curt nod, left, he gave her a minute for the sounds of high heels on wooden floors to recede before he threw back his files and, without any pretence of working, leaned back in his chair.

It had been too long since a boy of the family came home with his girl.

Will used to do it all the time; all through high school, Giles had lost track of how many times he had been introduced to a girl who Will had sworn would be his daughter in law. But then, when Will entered Cambridge, and moved three hours away from London. And he met Drusilla. Which marked the end of Giles' part in William's life.

But even if Will had pulled himself away, at least he knew what Will was doing, who he was seeing. And, of course, there was Liam, his sister's son, the second of the heirs to the company he ran mostly b himself, now.

His sister, Margaret, had moved away from London after her husband had died. Liam, who had been about ten at the time, had not minded. Liam and Will had been rivals from the beginning and the distance of an ocean didn't put any stop to it. Will did extraordinarily well in high school, unexpected because his mind certainly wasn't on Karen Heath's notes. He'd skipped a grade in middle school so when he went to Cambridge, he was the youngest boy there.

And the brightest. Will wanted to be a creative representative, as he felt his father's firm lacked in that department. It'd work out well as in the States; Liam was planning on corporate law.

But then an unpredicted streak of independence hit Liam. He refused to join Giles & Spencer – he started working for Wolfram & Hart. Giles felt crushed – a whole branch was to be put under Liam. They had denied so many people for the job! And at that moment, Will stepped in, in a martyr complex that was most unlike him, and took over Liam's work.

At times, when he had perhaps had a little too much to drink, Will would curse and berate Liam for ruining his life. But that wasn't often – Will had taken a decision, seen how happy it made his father and his girlfriend, and he had decided that his decision was good. Liam hadn't much of a say.

Giles closed his eyes. A low sigh escaped him. Just then, the phone rang. He sat up, frowning at it as he would at one of his old, treacherous friends, Ethan Rayne. Picking it up, he said, "Hello?"

"Dad?"

Relief, hesitation, and a bittersweet happiness filled Giles. "Hello, William."

"Dad."

Will was hesitating, Giles could feel it. His brow furrowed. "What is it, my boy?"

"Dad," His voice sounded hollow, now, and Giles was worried. But then Will said, "Has someone filled in for me in New York, yet?"

And to Giles, the sound of Will's voice was like homecoming.

Early the next day, Buffy sat on the steps of her back porch, arms around her legs, chin on her knees. She watched in silence as the sun rose; the lightest shade of pink appeared at the edge of the horizon.

Will watched her from behind the screen door of the kitchen, knowing in his heart he had made a decision he would regret. But he needed space... I'll be back, he reassured himself. There's no way I can leave now. Not forever.

Just then, a taxi honked outside.

Buffy turned around, instinctively, to locate the source of the sound. She saw Will standing at the closed door. Regarding him with shadowed eyes, she looked at him, hazel eyes burning holes in his skin, making him guilty when there was nothing to feel so about.

He swallowed. "I-I'm going to New York to do some finalizing with my work. I'll be back in a week or so."

She said nothing.

Will looked at his shoes, then back at her. "I..." He sighed. "I'm sorry to be leaving like this, kitten, but it's sort of urgent. I'll come back though... really, soon, you know..."

Their eyes met. Will felt a shudder go through him at the deepness of the chasm that was between them. She started to say something when the horn sounded again. She stopped.

He gulped. "I have to get going..." He turned half-heartedly towards the kitchen, then back to her again. "Bye, pet." The whispered word was echoed in the stretch of silence that lay between them.

And then, Will turned and walked out of the house, knowing fully well he was leaving behind every reason to live with it.