Tempus de Muto

by Schehrezade

Disclaimer: They ain't mine but I gets to play with them!!
Feedback: As a first time writer, I would love input. It's a drug that I could become addicted to! Drop me a note at
schehrezade_1@hotmail.com
Rating: PG15 for now will vary from chapter to chapter. Will always put in a warning.
Dedications: To Tales, cos I wouldn't be writing without her prodding. You're my muse girl!! Madame Draco my Beta. Thank you for all the hard work and patience. A true gem!

Chapter 15 

"Make way! Coming through!"

"Code red, he's flat-lining."

"Paddles!" A whine from the machine filled the room. "Clear!"

"Nothing, doctor!" A nurse checked for a pulse on the man's neck.

"Charging... Clear!"

The nurse looked at the doctor and shook her head, they had been working on the patient for over half an hour but he was non-responsive.

"Time of death 18:45."

The nurse noted the T.O.D on the chart.

"I'll go tell the family." The doctor turned to the double doors.

"Sir, his daughter is still being worked on. His wife and son are outside in the waiting room."

"Fine." The doctor pushed the doors open and went to find Mrs. Madison. She spotted the mother and son seated quietly in the corner waiting for news. He approached them quietly. This was part of his job he hated and was sadly something that he had to do many times since he had transferred to Sunnydale. "Mrs. Madison?"

The dark haired woman looked up. "Yes? Oh, Doctor, my husband? Amy?"

The ER doctor sat down next to them, hesitantly taking Mrs. Madison's hand. "Mrs. Madison..."

"Please, call me Judy," she interrupted.

"Judy, then. We tried to resuscitate your husband, but the damage to his heart was too much. I am very sorry he has passed on."

"Daddy's gone?" Eric Madison asked, his brown eyes filling with tears as his bottom lip trembled.

"Oh, honey." Judy pulled her son into her arms, breathing in his scent and cried into his shoulder.

"What about Amy?" Eric asked. Judy looked over at the doctor hopefully; a frown of worry creased her kind face.

"She is still in critical condition, we can't get her to wake up." He hesitated, acutely aware that he was about to add to the woman's distress. "Do you know what happened?"

"No, the police called me at work, they said there had been a break in. They found Tom and Amy unconscious. That's all..."

"Well, we'll keep trying to wake her. There will be tests, but at the moment I really don't know anymore. You'll both have to wait. I am sorry." The doctor rose from his seat, determined to go save the young woman. The Madisons didn't need a double tragedy in their lives. "Let me go check and I'll come right back, okay?"

Judy Madison looked up at the doctor and tried to smile her thanks, but failed. He nodded in understanding and left.

"Can we see them?" Eric asked.

"Oh, Eric no. Daddy..." Judy Madison started weeping.

************

Spike pulled Buffy away from the front door. "Give me second, luv." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scarf. "Trust me?" He dangled the black silk in front of Buffy's face.

She nodded, pulling the scarf from his fingers and wrapping it over her eyes. Buffy then turned her back to the stunned vampire. "Tie it for me?" she asked softly.

Spike stood still for a moment; he had not expected her to acquiesce so quickly. He reached up and tied the scarf in a bow, deftly avoiding pulling her golden tresses. "Oh, pet..." He trailed off, completely overwhelmed. His Slayer was constantly surprising him. The biggest surprise being the trust she offered so willingly, a trust he never anticipated earning. Spike pulled the giggling woman into his arms and pushed at the half open door with his hip.

"Where are we going, Spike?" Buffy asked curiously as she felt him taking her upstairs.

Spike set her gently on her feet outside the door to her new bedroom. "Can you keep the blindfold on for another minute, luv?"

"Sure." Buffy stood with her hands folded in front of her. "Go on. I promise I won't peek!" Spike leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to her smiling lips. He mouthed her full bottom lip for a moment, savouring the unique flavour of her soft mouth. Buffy pulled back and gasped. "Need to breath, handsome!" Spike grinned at her then stopped, realising she couldn't see him. It was the first time she had said anything like that to him. "Stop grinning at me and get with the surprise!" Buffy ordered, trailing her fingers up his sensitive sides and giggling at his startled yelp.

"Get off me!" Spike paused. "Can you see me?" He waved a hand in front of her face.

"No, but I know you too well, Mr. Big Bad with the ego." Buffy giggled back at him. "Now I want a see what all the mystery and blindfoldyness is about. Shoo!"

"Bossy chit." Spike grumbled as he disappeared into the master bedroom. Buffy could hear him moving around and the sound of his Zippo striking. She cocked her head, straining to hear what he was doing. Before she could open her mouth to ask, a cool firm hand took both of hers and pulled her forward.

"Spike?" Buffy hesitated, she felt disorientated; this was not her room. She breathed in deeply, savouring the scents of the candles.

"Buffy, I just wanted to do something to make you feel better, if you don't like it I can change everything back." Spike was now worried that she would hate his presumption.

Buffy's hands fluttered over her blindfold. "Spike, let me see. Please." Spike stepped in front of her and reached behind her head to pull the silk from her eyes. Buffy looked up into his now worried face, closed her eyes and pressed a kiss under his chin. Then she stepped back and looked around at what used to be her mother's room. Her mouth dropped open at the changes.

Her wrought iron bed now stood where her mother's large Lit Bateau had, but the covers were different. She stepped over and ran her hands appreciatively over the plum coloured satin eiderdown, which was delicately stitched in silver thread. Buffy's eyes spotted the dark grey silk sheets and pillows at the top. She smiled, imagining Spike's pale form writhing in abandon on those slinky sheets while she tortured him with her lips and tongue.

"You like it?" Spike stepped hesitantly next to her. She tangled her fingers with his and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"It's gorgeous," she whispered.

"What about the rest?" Spike gestured behind them.

"There's more?" Buffy asked. "Spike, this is too much! No one has ever done anything like this for me..."

"Hush now." Spike gently turned her to face the rest of the room. She gasped in surprise. He had moved all her ornaments and pictures and placed them around the room. In the corner was her mother's small armchair on which Mr. Gordo sat. There were beautiful metal candlesticks with candles flickering in them on the dresser, filling the room with light and scent. Spike pressed a kiss to her temple. "You deserve only the best and as long as I can, I will get for you, my heart." Buffy turned in his arms and kissed him thoroughly.

"Thank you!" She squealed in excitement. Running over to the curtains, she ran her fingers over the fine, deep purple silk. She twitched them aside, checking that there were blinds behind them to keep Spike safe.

He smiled at her concern. "Don't worry, luv, I made sure there was protection for me. That is, if you don't mind me staying over sometimes."

Buffy turned to him with a frown. "Sometimes?"

"Well, not if you don't want me to..." he trailed off, hurt that she wouldn't want to him to stay.

"Spike! I want you here every morning I wake up. So make sure you move your stuff in here as soon as possible!" she ordered.

Spike sighed in relief. 'Love the bossy little chit.' He also sent a mental thanks to Glinda who had insisted that they go to his crypt and pack everything he owned. It all sat in the trunk of the Desoto. "You sure?"

"Yes, come on, let's go get everything now." General Buffy came to the fore as she began to march out of her new bedroom.

Spike stopped her with a gentle touch to her shoulder. "Glinda made us go get everything this morning. It's in the trunk of the Desoto. I can wait."

Buffy grabbed his hand. "Well I can't, come on." She pulled an unresisting Spike behind as she trotted down the stairs. Stopping halfway down, she turned and threw her arms around his waist. "Thank you. I love it!"

*********

"This is it?" Buffy eyed the two duffle bags, four boxes and various plastic bags.

"Yeah, not much of a pack rat. Not like the Poof. Just need m'clothes, decent music and well my..."

"Your books?" Buffy pointed at the boxes, which were filled with leather bound books and paperbacks. "It's alright, Big Bad, I won't tell anyone you like..." She squinted into one of the boxes and let out a surprised giggle. "You like Harry Potter?"

"Research purposes only," Spike muttered defensively. Buffy raised a fine eyebrow at him and his shoulders slumped. "Alright! I like Harry Potter, s'bloody brilliant. You read any of the books?"

"Nope." Buffy reached into the trunk and pulled out the duffle bags, hefting them onto one shoulder before grabbing the plastic bags filled with Spike's shopping spree from the mall. "You can read them to me in bed if you want."

Spike blinked at the intimate image of Buffy curled around him whilst he read to her. His usual eloquence deserted him and he gulped. "Um, sure... Alright." He reached in and pulled out two of the boxes and followed her into the house. Dumping them in the hall, he rushed back out and collected the last of his belongings before disappearing back into the house. By the time he had shut the door, Buffy had returned, taking the two boxes from his hands and going back upstairs.

She looked coyly over her shoulder. "Come on, let's get you settled and then I think we both need a bubble bath." The peroxide vampire followed her shapely behind upstairs.

"None of the girly smells though! Demons'll be laughing at me on patrol if I smell like a girl!"

"Alright, no girly smells. I'll use horse liniment instead! That okay with you?"

"Naw, just use some of the smellies Columba picked out. Oh, right! You haven't looked in the bathroom have you?" Spike dropped his boxes by the half empty bookcase he had put under the window and pulled Buffy into the adjoining master bath.

He had not had time to light the candles in there, something he did now. Buffy gasped in girlish glee over the baskets of soap, bath oils and creams that Tara had put in the shelves. She then spotted the huge Egyptian cotton bath towels and robes Spike had picked out. "Wow! We are never leaving the house again!" She danced over to Spike and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him. "I love you."

Spike cleared his throat. "Just wanted to give you a treat. Make you fell better. You know, after Dawn."

"It is gorgeous. Dawn'll be sooo jealous when we get her back and she sees all this!"

Spike blinked back the tears in his eyes. "You know we will, I promise we'll get her back." He kissed her forehead. "Now, you get the bath going and I'll get my bits and pieces stashed. It's alright to sling my clothes in with yours?"

Buffy smiled at the idea of them sharing closet space, it was so intimate and so right. "Sure, hope you can find room." She giggled. Turning to the baskets, she began sorting through them, sniffing various bottles before selecting one that wouldn't offend Spike's manly virtue. She could hear him moving around in their room. 'Our room.' She sighed in happiness, it sounded so right.

"Need any help?" Buffy leant against the door and watched Spike quickly filling the bookshelves. The fragrances wafting from the bathroom filled the room.

Spike looked over his shoulder and smiled softly at her. "No, I'm almost done."

"Okay, come join me when you're finished." She turned and disappeared into the bathroom. Spike cocked his head as he heard her clothes dropping to the floor. Momentarily distracted, he dropped a copy of Le Morte D'Arthur. Fumbling, he retrieved the precious tome and reverently placed it next to its counterpart. He rocked back on his heels and eyed his collection. 'Bloody lucky that Rupert's not around or he'd nick them all!'

He heard a splash of water and groaned. The thought of his girl's slender form covered in bubbles and glistening in the candlelight... He mentally slapped himself. 'No need imagining it, you git! Just get in there!' Spike stood and kicked off his boots, stripping as he approached the bathroom and Buffy.

"Well don't you look like a little mermaid?" Spike leered as he gazed at Buffy appreciatively. She looked over her shoulder at him; her hair curling around her face. Buffy had secured it with a butterfly clip. Her cheeks were rosy pink from the warmth of the bath and her face was scrubbed clean of makeup. She looked gorgeous.

"Come in." She reached one wet hand out to Spike; he took it and stepped into the bath behind Buffy. He slid down, resting his back against the warming porcelain, his legs on either side of Buffy's. Spike pulled her warm and pliant body against his and laid his chin on her head. They both sighed at the same time. Spike's cool body began to warm in the hot bathwater.

"This is nice," Spike rumbled. Buffy hummed in agreement. He reached over and grabbed a sponge and some lavender soap. Lathering it up, he began to smooth it over Buffy's arms. She snuggled into his chest, whilst Spike ran the sponge over her pink tipped breasts, her nipples hardening when Spike lingered over them. He dropped the sponge and rubbed his hands over her torso and down over her soft stomach.

Buffy reached between her legs and retrieved the sponge. Twisting in Spike's arms, she turned to face him and began to run it over his chest. He hardened when her coarse curls made contact with his cock. She dipped the sponge into the water and raised it above his head. With an impish smile, she squeezed it. Spike spluttered as water ran down his face. He grabbed her hands in one of his and held them above his head, pulling Buffy's hot wriggling body closer to his.

"Vixen!" he growled as he lunged for her lips, devouring her in a toe-curling kiss.

Buffy pulled back to breathe, her breasts glistening in the candlelight. Spike pulled her legs around his waist; he leant forward and began to suckle on one of her pert nipples. He ground his hips against hers, his cock slipping between her moist folds and nudging against her opening. "Lift your hips, pet. Let me in," he begged.

Buffy rose slightly and, with a twist of her hips, captured Spike in her warmth and slid down. They both gasped at their joining. Buffy rested her forehead against his. She caught his gaze as she began to slowly rotate her hips. Spike groaned at her muscle control, as she clenched him tightly.

"Ahh pet, just like that! Squeeze me." He drew in a shuddering breath as he felt her tighten even more. He released her hands and dropped his to her hips, steadying her. "Love you," he whispered.

"Love you too." Buffy slid her wet hands over his water-slicked shoulders, tracing his muscles and down to his elbows. Gripping him gently, she began to lean back. Spike tightened his grip on her hips, when he felt her begin to lower herself into the water. Her new position caused them both to shudder with pleasure; Spike's penis began to rub her in some interesting places. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and she came hard. Spike lost control when he felt her inner muscles clamp down on his aching cock and their strong spasms sent him over the edge, joining her in an equally powerful orgasm. "Jesus!" Spike pulled Buffy back up and into his arms as they both shuddered their release. Buffy slumped weakly in his cradling arms, her warm breath tickling his erect nipples.They both shook, riding out the after-effects of their release. Unable to resist Buffy latched onto one of the pale pink nubs and began to tweak it with her teeth.

She raised her head and licked her lips. "That was amazing!"

Spike grunted. He was unable to form a coherent word, let alone a sentence. He absently wondered if his brain had blown out of the back of his head. His teeth ached from the strength of his orgasm; he un-clenched his fingers from Buffy's hips and soothed the red finger marks he had unwittingly left. Buffy shifted slightly. Spike's limp dick slid out of her causing them both to moan at the loss of contact.

"Luv, you still in there?" Spike mumbled.

"Hmmm, yeah," Buffy mumbled tiredly into his neck.

"Come on, let's get you outta here." Spike stood cradling her limp form in his arms as he stepped out of the lukewarm bathwater. He stepped out and snagged a bath towel, wrapping it awkwardly around them both. "Give us a hand, pet." Buffy slid down his body and wrapped the big towel around them both and helped him get dry. "Let me just put out the candles." He held her body to his side and leant over to blow out the candles, plunging them into darkness.

They stumbled tiredly into the bedroom and sank onto the bed. They slid under the covers and wrapped themselves around each other. Buffy nestled against his chest, her head tucked under his chin. Spike wrapped his arms around her warm naked body and sighed in contentment.

***********

"If I get knocked out once more this week I will scream!" Anya pushed herself off the floor and rubbed her forehead. "Morpheus spell!" She stormed over and stomped on the now empty vial. "Bastard!"

Wesley groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Well, at least we're catching up on our sleep," he observed wryly. He nudged Groo with his foot. "You awake?"

"Yes. What of Tara?" Groo rolled over and patted Tara on the knee. "Tara?"

"I'm up. Yuck, what is that taste in my mouth?"

"That would be the fumes from Somanalla root used in the spell Rack concocted," Anya explained. She disappeared behind the till and rummaged through the shelves until she found some mints, handing them out to the other three. "Suck on them, it'll clear the after-taste."

"Thanks." Tara popped one of the offered mints into her mouth and sucked it thoughtfully. "So any idea where they went?"

"Maybe these can offer a clue?" Groo retrieved the two halves of the token Rack had used.

Wesley took them and examined them carefully. "No, I don't recognise them..." He reached for a book and began to flick through it.

Anya pushed the two pieces together and frowned. "Not something I have come across." She turned to Tara. "Can you sense anything from them?"

Tara took the two pieces in one hand and weighed them in her palm. "Nothing, but then again, he probably drained them when they vanished."

"What do we do?" Anya asked worriedly. "I mean, she has part of Dawnie in her, won't we need her present for the spell?"

Tara nodded. Her face was pale and there were dark circles around her eyes. "I think so, we'll have to find her..."

"Maybe a location spell?" Groo offered.

"We can try, but Rack is probably an adept at locking..." Wesley rubbed his neck tiredly, his throat was aching and the scar was beginning to itch.

Anya watched everyone and made a decision. "Not tonight. We are all tired, I think it'd be better if we try this in the morning after we all get some sleep." She hesitated. "Someone is going to have to call Buffy and tell her what's happened."

"Groo and I will tell them when we get back to the house." Wesley pushed himself up and reached for his jacket. "Tara, maybe you should come with us or stay with Anya."

Tara looked over at the ex-demon and tilted her head. "Can I stay with you?"

"Yes please, I don't like sleeping on my own. Okay, that came out wrong..."

"No I get it." Tara smiled weakly and rose. She tucked the Clavian spell book into her pocket.

They headed out of the shop and into the night. Wesley slipped a stake in his waistband and nodded his thanks to Groo who also handed one to each of the girls. The two men watched the girls drive into the night before heading off on foot.

***********

Buffy's eyes flickered open and she grinned at the luscious sight in front of her. Moving her head slightly, she licked Spike's nipple and then blew on it gently, watching it pucker under the coolness of her breath. Spike's hands twitched in the small of her back. Buffy wriggled out of his arms and began to lick and nip her way down Spike's torso. Her mouth lingered on his navel. She looked up at her sleeping lover and pouted, he was still fast asleep. She grinned wickedly and slid further down. Buffy pulled the silk sheet off of Spike and knelt back on her heels. Her eyes travelled down to his groin, her fingers reached out and tangled in his soft dark blonde curls, tugging them gently. Looking up at his face to see if she had gotten a reaction, she frowned. Nothing.

'Well, we'll have to do something about that.' Tossing her hair over one shoulder, she bent forward. Licking her lips to moisten them, Buffy pressed them against the soft skin on Spike's inner thigh. He shifted in his sleep, allowing Buffy to slip in between his legs. Grinning mischievously, her head descended.

Spike stretched sleepily, he felt warm and loved. And also very perky...

He looked down and blinked, Buffy had her mouth wrapped around him and was sucking his cock gently. She caught his eyes and winked cheekily. With a smooth motion, she pulled her head back, her tongue lingering on his rock hard erection, tracing the contours.

"Nice tongue bath, Slayer. Come up here," Spike growled. Buffy slid sinuously up his torso, trailing her hair over his balls and throbbing erection. She pressed herself to him, moulding her soft curves to his now tense body. "You've been playing without me," Spike pouted up at her.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I got bored." She playfully nipped Spike's jugular, causing him to vamp out.

"Slayeeer."

"Vammmmpire!" Buffy retorted she planted her lips on Spike's, sliding her tongue delicately around his sharp teeth. With the point of her tongue, she licked his sensitive fangs, curling it around one of them. Spike groaned and opened his mouth, allowing his girl access to his teeth, secretly delighted that his demonic features didn't turn her off. Buffy's tongue rasped up and down his fangs, lingering on them. Spike got even harder.

He pulled back, gazing up at her soft mouth and the small, pink tip of her tongue that poked out. "Do you have any idea what sort of effect that has on a vamp?" he asked, his voice slightly slurred. Buffy nodded and ground her hips down, her coarse curls mingling with his. Spike shifted slightly and slid his throbbing erection between her legs and began moving his hips. Buffy threw her head back and groaned with pleasure. "You like that, little girl?" Spike increased the speed of his hips, the base of his shaft rubbed against her clitoris, causing Buffy to moan loudly. Her body began to shiver. Spike flipped them; he rested his weight on his hands and continued to stimulate Buffy. He was soaked with her arousal, helping him to slide up and down.

"More, Spike, please," Buffy begged, a fine sheen of sweat covering her flushed body. She titled her head to one side, offering her neck to her demon lover.

Spike pressed a kiss to her fluttering pulse at the junction of her neck and shoulder. He then gently began to nibble and suck along her neck. Never breaking the skin with his fangs, he left a trail of small love bites. Reaching her collarbone, he skimmed his teeth along the delicate bones before settling his mouth in the hollow of her neck. He pressed a tender kiss there and pushed upwards with his hips.

"Ahh," Buffy groaned as they were finally joined. Spike levered himself up onto his hands and looked down, watching himself disappear into her depths. Buffy reached up and tangled her fingers in his curling hair and pulled him back down, cradling his head against her throat. "Too far away. I need you close."

"I've got you, my heart. Spike's got you," he moaned against her sweating skin, licking her throat and savouring the taste of her. His hips began to hammer into Buffy's, grunting slightly each time their pelvises made contact. Spike slid his arms under her and wrapped his hands over her shoulders, anchoring himself to her. He slowed his hips, thrust upwards once and then stopped. Spike savoured her soft warmth, panting slightly; trying to control himself before he could move again. Buffy clenched her inner muscles and came. Spike groaned and lost himself in her, his back arched as he followed her into ecstasy. "You're gonna kill me, you know?" he moaned.

"Yeah, but what a way to go!" Buffy chirped.

Spike laughed and rolled off of her, pulling her onto his boneless body. He ran his hands up and down her sweat slicked back, tracing random patterns. Before he could retort, Spike heard the front door shut quietly. He heard Groo and Wesley whispering as they stood in the hallway. "Something's up, pet. Watcher boy and He-Man are in a tizz." He slapped her on the backside. "Up you get." Spike slid reluctantly away from Buffy's limp body and pulled on his jeans that lay on the floor by the bed. He tossed one of the new towelling bathrobes that he and Tara had picked out at the mall over Buffy's glistening body. Grumbling under her breath, she pulled it on.

Pushing her rumpled hair off her face, Buffy groaned as she got to her feet. "Ouch."

Spike looked over at her, worried. "Pet, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No!" Buffy pulled her hair back and secured it in a loose knot. "Muscles ache, that's all." There was no way she was going to inflate Spike's ego. She tried to walk normally. "Come on."

"Pet, you may want to cover that up."

"What?" Buffy glanced down to check all her bits were covered.

"Your neck..." Spike explained.

Buffy walked over to her dressing table and examined her neck. It was covered in rapidly bruising bites and streaks of red where Spike's fangs had grazed her delicate skin. She ran her fingertips over the area, her nipples hardened. "Why?"

Spike shrugged. "S'your call. Just thought you might not want Watcher boy to see..."

Buffy turned and pressed her fingers to his lips. "I don't care what they think, so stop worrying. I mean, come on, he must have read enough dusty old books about vamps to know it's not all vanilla sexage!" Buffy leaned up and bit Spike hard on the throat, unerringly zeroing in on the same spot that Drusilla had bitten him when she had turned him. His eyes rolled up in bliss and he smiled goofily at her. "There. Now we match." She headed out of the room, leaving Spike to adjust himself, trying to ease the strain on his zipper.

"Oh, come on, luv, you can't leave me in this state." He gestured to his bulging groin.

Buffy looked over her shoulder. "Just imagine Xander naked and covered in whipped cream."

Spike grimaced at the image and rapidly deflated. 'That'll work,' he thought ruefully and followed Buffy downstairs.

Groo and Wesley watched the couple come down the stairs, Buffy's tousled hair a dead giveaway as to their earlier activities. Spike leant against the banister, his pale chest gleaming in the light. His jeans rode low on his hips, the top button open. Buffy noticed and cleared her throat pointedly.

"Hey, guys, what's wrong?" She pushed her hands into the pockets of her new robe, watching the two men closely.

"You both reek of magicks," Spike commented as he pushed off from the banister and sauntered into the sitting room. "Grab a pew and fill us in, mate."

Buffy disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray of glasses and beer. She had poured out a Diet Coke for herself. Quickly handing over drinks, she vanished back into the kitchen. The three men sipped their beers and waited for her to return.

"Thought you guys might want something to eat." Buffy dropped a plate of chicken wings, mixed cold meats, a couple bowls of chips and some bread.

"Thanks." Wesley reached over and grabbed some food and began to wolf it down.

"Your blood's heating up, honey." Buffy batted her lashes at Spike before sitting between his legs and resting her chin on her knees. "So what's with the bad moody faces?"

Spike stared quizzically at the top of her head. 'Honey?' He heard the microwave ping and before Spike could move, Buffy was up. She returned with the warm mug and placed it in his surprised hands. "Uh, thanks?" Spike muttered. Buffy smiled and pecked him on the cheek before settling back on the floor. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her robe around them.

Wesley cleared his throat. "Well, it's about Willow."

"What's the witch done now?" Spike asked as he sipped his blood. He reached over and grabbed a handful of wings, leaning over and offering them to Buffy. She took a couple and began to nibble on them. She was famished. Spike dipped one in his blood and ate it with relish.

"Well, she's escaped." Wesley rubbed his scar.

"What?" Buffy's head snapped up, she frowned at both of the men sitting on the sofa.

"A scarred man came to retrieve her. The witch called him Rack," Groo offered. He fiddled with the sandwich he had made before eating it.

"Rack kidnapped her?" Buffy asked. She remembered Willow describing Rack's scarred face during that first night she went cold turkey. Willow had sat in the bathroom while Tara packed and left. When Buffy had finally got back from the hospital and put Dawn to bed, she had found Willow curled in a ball on the cold tile floor. Pulling her up and helping the shivering witch into bed, Buffy had asked Willow who had done this to her. Willow began crying. Between bouts of tears and shivering, the redhead had told Buffy about Amy taking her to the powerbrokers den. Buffy had sat, stunned at Willow's thoughtlessness at taking Dawnie to the magical equivalent of a crack house. Willow had described Rack down to his stained t-shirt. Buffy knew that she would recognise the scummy bastard, if she were ever to come across him, and she knew that they would meet. 'Once I get my hands on the bastard that corruptedWillow, he had better watch out!' Buffy silently avowed, unaware that Spike was thinking along those same lines.

"It was Rack and he was well equipped to combat us all." Wesley glanced over at Buffy. He fiddled with the label on his beer bottle. "She wasn't kidnapped, Buffy. Willow wanted to go. I'm sorry." He knew that, Willow had been her closest friend and an integral part of the 'Scooby Gang'. "Really sorry."

Buffy closed her eyes. "Dawn..."

Spike frowned and then swore under his breath.

Wesley and Groo watched the two lovers.

Buffy looked up at Wesley, her eyes filled with tears. "She has part of Dawn. Now that she's gone, there is no way we can get Dawnie back!"

Spike slid off the armchair and wrapped himself around the now weeping girl.

Groo shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The warriors he had admired so much had disappeared. In their place was a grieving family. He needed to offer some hope, to help them regain their strength and determination. "There is an easy option," he offered tentatively.

Spike looked up at the Pylean. Buffy had turned in his arms and curled into his chest. "What you thinking, mate?"

"We will go after the two magic users and bring the sorceress back," Groo explained.

Wesley blinked, surprised. "Well that was obvious!"

Before Buffy or Spike could question the Pylean Champion, the front door burst open. Tara and Anya almost tripped over each other in their eagerness to get in.

"Girls! I though you were going to get some rest!" Wesley stood and helped the two newcomers to the sofa. Both were out of breath and flustered. Anya was clutching a charred stick which had a shrivelled hand attached to it and a smouldering Atlas.

"Anya, why have you set fire to a monkey paw?" Buffy eyed the smouldering item, wondering if she should go find a fire extinguisher.

"Wasn't me. It was Tara!" Anya chirped. She patted the still breathless Wiccan on the shoulder. "She had a stroke of inspiration and well..." Anya eyed Tara for a second. "We weren't anticipating such a powerful spell! My coffee table is toast!"

"What happened, Tara?" Wesley knelt before the quiet blonde.

Tara's hand fluttered to her chest and laid over her heart. "I don't know. We were talking and then an image appeared in my head of the Hutamin paw, I even knew its name."

"Her eyes were silvery green as well!" Anya interjected.

Spike and Buffy frowned at this new information. They stood and peered at Tara. The gentle girl flushed at the attention being directed at her and shrank back into the soft cushions, trying to disappear.

"Then she grabs a pen and writes down this ritual!" Anya delved into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and waved it excitedly.

Wesley grabbed hold of her hand and gently prised the paper out of her fingers. "May I?"

"Oh yes sorry!" Anya let go of the scrap of paper. "Here..."

"Thank you," Wesley muttered absently as his eyes scanned the paper, unaware of Anya's surprised reaction to his automatic politeness.

She stared at the man who knelt before Anya. 'No one ever thanks me!' She smiled at the dark haired Englishman. "You're, ah... welcome?" she replied.

"How did you know this?" Wesley eyed Tara with an increased respect. "It's something I have only come across in the most obscure texts in its original language." Wesley didn't wait for a response. "It's the Bu'shundi ritual." At Groo, Buffy and Spike's blank expressions, he explained, "It is a very difficult and powerful locating ritual."

Tara shrugged. "It just appeared in my mind. I don't know how..."

"The Powers?" Buffy and Spike wondered aloud.

"What?" Anya frowned, and then nodded. "Yes, you're right!"

"Indeed!" Wesley shook his head. "I should have anticipated this after Whistler's appearance yesterday."

Tara's hand moved from her heart to her mouth. "Oh!"

"I believe they must have interceded on Dawn's behalf. Possibly, they consider her important in the scheme of their plans." Wesley hypothesized. "Why else would they send an emissary with a text to assist us?" Wesley frowned, wondering what was so significant about both Dawn and Connor. It was rare that the capricious Powers took direct action; they usually expected their 'Champions' to muddle through.

"That is a tremendous honour and great responsibility. Tara you are indeed a special woman!" Groo inclined his head slightly in respect.

Spike snorted. "Took you long enough to notice, mate!" He smiled over the furiously blushing Tara and smiled gently, small lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes. Softening his usually stern expression.

Tara blinked at the vampire. 'Wow. I can see why Buffy finds so much comfort in him...'

Wesley looked down at Tara's neat writing and read the ritual again. "So, did you have any success?"

Tara and Anya exchanged a worried look.

"Well, yes." Anya leant over and dropped the charred Atlas onto the coffee table. Everyone crowed around and looked down.

"She's in New York," Tara whispered.

Anya flipped through the pages until she reached the right one. In the centre of the Map of New York was a small, charred spot.

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