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 5 

Tara trudged tiredly downstairs. Most of the night she had lain in bed, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling, her mind racing. She couldn't work out what had tried to get into the house. The white witch felt dirty from the brief contact; she really needed to sit and centre herself. As she reached the hall, Tara could hear Buffy and Spike in the kitchen talking quietly. Edging around the doorway, she smiled at the blonde couple. Spike stood at the island whisking some eggs up with Buffy perched on the counter facing him. She was picking at bits of cheese and giggling at something Spike had said.

"Morning."

"Hey, Tara."

"Glinda."

"Guys, what are you staring at?" Tara casually wiped her hand under her nose.

"Tara! Chill, there's nothing hanging off your nose." Buffy giggled. Spike reached over for the frying pan and set it onto the stove.

"Glinda, scrambled with cheese and ham?"

"Sounds good. Yes, please." The Wiccan eased herself onto one of the barstools and rested her chin on one of her hands. A faint smile lingered on her lips as she watched the couple interact. They looked happy and rested. Their auras were glowing as much as their happy faces. "What happened at the shop?"

Buffy made a face as an image of Xander's face flashed through her mind.

"Trashed. Weird thing though, we couldn't tell if anything had been taken. Spike could only smell us and burnt fuses." Buffy frowned, "Crap! Spike, we have to call Anya and tell her we are going to LA to help Wes." She turned to Spike, a frown marring her forehead, "We can't leave them to do it on their own." He stepped between her legs and pulled her to the edge of the kitchen counter resting his cheek against hers. Their arms wrapped around each other.

'They really are meant to be,' Tara thought sadly. 'Unlike me and Willow...'

"Luv, it's too early. Wait an hour for demon girl and the monumental prat to wake up." He ran a gentle finger down Buffy's nose and then traced her top lip.

"Yeah, but they won't understand why I'm not there. But we can't not go see Wes. He's hurt and from what the nurse said, alone." Buffy circled her fingertips in the small of Spike's back as they talked.

"Burnt fuses?" Tara queried. Her stomach clenched in worry. 'Willow! That was what I must have picked up last night. Goddess! Was it only last night?'

"Yeah, pet. Wot? Ring any bells?"

"Magic."

"Well, bugger me!" He turned to Buffy. "Luv, I am getting bloody old, letting that one slip past me." Spike rolled his eyes in a Buffyesque move. He turned back to the pan to stir the eggs. "So..." He paused in contemplation. "There were no unfamiliar scents. Who could have it been?" He caught Tara's sad eyes. "Balls!" Spike threw his spatula in the sink.

"What? What are you guys thinking?" Buffy demanded.

"Red!"

"Willow..." Tara muttered her erstwhile lovers name as she ducked her head and hid under her hair.

"None of that." Spike tapped his long fingers under her chin. "Can't be hiding such a pretty face now, can we?" he asked gently. He stroked her face softly and blotted the tears that had escaped. Tara was more than a little surprised at his gentleness. She could understand him being like that with Buffy and Dawn, but not her. No one cared about her feelings, not since her Mom. Her confusion must have shown on her face because Spike grinned. "Hey, sweet one, I care." He turned away, missing the glorious smile on Tara's face.

"What did Willow do now?" Buffy was completely confused.

"Good question, pet. I guess she must have nuked the shop. Real question is why?" Spike turned in Buffy's arms so that he rested his back against her chest and faced Tara. "Glinda?"

"I have no idea! What could she be thinking?" Tara toyed with the sleeve of her shirt, unwilling to look at either of them. She was embarrassed for Willow and also shocked that she would cause such destruction. " I m... mean if you couldn't smell anything other than us and the magic expended, it would have to be either me or Willow..." She paused for a second, "but I'll have to go down there and see for myself. I may be able to pick something up. Spike, did you sense anything else?"

The vampire closed his eyes and tried to recall everything from last night. Frustrated, he shrugged his shoulders. "Nope, just you lot and the magicks..." He glared at Buffy and her raised brows. "Well, wot? I thought was fuses." He grinned over at Tara. "Oh, luv, better remember to tell Anyanka to call in the exterminators."

"Why?"

"There was a strong smell of rats in the shop. Last thing shop girl needs is Roland having a nibble on her Mandrake!" Seeing the blank looks on the two girl's faces, he groaned. "Balls, I need some English mates..."

"Spike, eggs are ready." Tara interrupted before the blond vamp started to explain himself.

"Right, you two settle in and get noshing!" Spike ladled the food out. He heaped the island with plates of eggs, bacon, sausages, grilled mushrooms and fried bread. "A good English breakfast'll set you up for the day." He reached over and snagged a piece of toast and ate it with relish. A smile drifted over his face as he watched both of the girls heap food on their plates. Buffy in particular; he had expected the usual fight and then her picking at a tiny amount and declaring herself full.

"Yum! Spike, this is good. I am starving. Any more eggs?" Buffy gave him the big waif eyes. She knew he couldn't resist them, especially if she went for the killer combo with the trembling pout as well. As the vamp turned to the pan, Tara cleared her throat.

"Look guys, I'll go into the shop today and help them. Dawn can meet me there after school, and she can help out. You guys go down to LA and see your friend Wes." Tara chewed thoughtfully on a fried mushroom. "Look, Dawn can either stay with me or I'll stay here. Then you guys can take your time in LA."

"Tara, about Wes... I'm not sure how you feel about healing spells... you may believe that nature should take its course..." Buffy paused, unsure of the gentle Wicca's reaction to her request.

Spike interrupted Buffy; he knew she felt uncomfortable asking, so he took the onus on himself.

"Glinda, can you mojo up something that'll fix him? It sounds like he's in a bad way. The poor sod's had his throat slit and from what the nurse said, he can't speak."
"S...sure. Someone cut his throat? That's awful! I don't think I can completely heal something like that, but I can help. Let me see what I can find here. I'm sure Willow has some stuff hidden away; I've got my books here as well." Tara slid to her feet and disappeared upstairs.

"What? No! I cleared out..." Buffy trailed off, suddenly realising that she had been incredibly naïve. "Oh..." She caught Spike's eyes, blushing and feeling very silly.
"No worries, pet. You just wanted to think the best of your friend. What she is trying to do, you know, controlling her powers, it's hard. She may slip, but you'll be there to catch her. We all will." Spike smoothed her hair off her face as his tongue traced the outline of her lips. Buffy moaned softly, her tongue snaking out and tangling with his. She pulled him closer and her fingers twisted in his soft curls as she tried to meld with his body.

"Mmmm."

"Okay, PDA alert!" Dawn's sleepy voice filled the kitchen. The two blondes separated and grinned sheepishly at the gangly teen, who stood grinning at them. "Feed me!"
 
*********
 
Willow woke up slowly. She ached all over. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and wondering where the hell she was. The room was unfamiliar. She clutched at her head. The throbbing was terrible. She felt like she had been run over and then the same car had backed over her again for good measure. She looked at her knuckles and wondered who had wrapped them. As she tried to bend her knees, she squeaked in pain.

"Willow? You up?" Amy peeked over the breakfast bar and then stood up clutching two cereal boxes in her hands. "Captain Crunch or Lucky Charms?" she asked, nervously watching her fellow Wiccan closely for any signs of Rack's influence.

"My knees hurt." Willow gingerly lifted the blanket and pushed it back. She poked at the bandages Amy had put on her legs the night before.

"I'm sorry. I dropped you last night when I was getting you into the car." There was no way she was going to admit she had hurt Willow deliberately, even if it had been an act in case Rack was watching her. Amy set the cereal boxes aside and came over to the couch. She sank down and waved her hands over the bandages creating a brief flash of light. "There." She peeled off the blood-encrusted band-aids and tossed them on the table. "Good as new. Sorry I didn't fix them last night, but I had to get the wards up around the apartment."

"Huh?" Willow was completely mystified.

"Willow, what do you remember from last night?"

"Rack, hmm. Felt good, but then he touched me. I didn't like that." Willow's words were disjointed, as if she were still trying to regain her equilibrium.

"Anything else?" Amy prodded.

"The Magic Box?" Willow asked. She seemed to recall being there last night, but there had been lots of noise which didn't make sense as the shop would have been closed.

"Yeah, you pretty much trashed it," Amy said wryly, as she pushed up onto her feet.

"Trashed?" Willow's voice wavered, her bottom lip trembled and her face paled. "Why?"

"Oh! Come on, Willow. Don't play the innocent with me. You know what happens after Rack gives you a boost." Amy pulled out some milk from the fridge. "Come and eat something." She gestured with her spoon to the bowl she had left out for Willow.

"Thanks." Willow reached into the cereal box and took a handful of Lucky Charms. She crunched them quietly as she tried to recall what she had done to the shop. "Amy, how did I trash the shop? I don't remember anything!"

"Will, I only got there afterwards. It was a huge mess. I guess whatever magicks Rack hit you with were strong. They must have been too much for your body to contain and they leaked out of you."

"What! Why couldn't I contain it? I'm strong!" Willow groused. Amy shook her head, surprised and more than a little disgusted at her old school friends' lack of concern for anyone but herself.

'Not strong enough! Man she really is jealous of me!'

"Willow. Don't you think you should call the shop and explain?"

"No! I...I can't. They think I stopped. If they knew... If they knew that I had been to Rack's! Oh, Goddess, what am I gonna do?" Willow looked up at her friend, her eyes filled with guilt and worry. 'Also I really can't be bothered with the judgmental looks and the sighs.'

Amy frowned. "Willow, you can't hide this. They'll find out."

"No, I'll stay away for a while."

"Willow, if you hide from them, they'll realise that you had something to do with it." Amy rubbed the tips of her fingers along the edge of her bowl. She tried to ignore the waves of power that were emanating from Willow's frail form.

"I can't let them see me now! They'll be able to tell. I promised them that I wouldn't do anything magical; not after Dawnie." Willow's voice got shriller and shriller.

"Dawn? What did you do to her?" Amy asked sharply, worried that the bright teen had been really hurt.

"Oh, nothing." Willow looked into her breakfast bowl, stirring the soggy contents and trying hard to avoid the piercing gaze of the brunette across the breakfast bar.

"Willow! Did you hurt her?" Amy tried to keep the anger out of her voice, but failed. Willow hunched her shoulders and avoided her gaze.

"Reveallo." Amy's eyes flashed brightly for a second. Then, in her mind's eye she saw everything from that fateful night. She was nauseated.

"Oh goddess! Willow! You took her to Rack's and left her in the waiting room?" Amy tilted her head; she recognised the demon that had attacked the two of them. Before she could say anything, she was struck dumb. The cruel words Willow spouted at Dawn and then the car crash. "You broke her arm? OH! Willow!" What really worried her was Willow's actions and behaviour after she had destroyed the demon. Not once did she show remorse or offer to help Spike and Buffy get Dawn to the hospital. "What is wrong with you? She's Buffy's kid sister and you let her get hurt!"

Embarrassed, Willow refused to look at Amy. "It was an accident, I swear! In a way she's hurt 'cause of you." Willow groused.

Amy regarded the redhead and wondered when she had changed. At school, Willow had been a gentle soul. Now she was shrugging off a broken arm and placing the blame elsewhere. "Willow, I know I made a huge mistake taking you to Rack. It was only meant to be a bit of fun," she wrung her hands, "but there's always a price for these things. I guess in this case Dawn paid it."

'She doesn't pull any punches!' Willow refused to look up. She felt a bit sick and really was fed up with everyone judging her. 'Geez, it's not like she hadn't gone there. I am sick of people being jealous of me and my power...'

"Look, Willow, you can't stay here. My dad won't put up with it. Also, you need to go back and tell everyone about what happened. They'll understand; they'll help you." Amy paused. "I'll help."

"I don't need help!" Willow stood and turned her back. She couldn't face another lecture. 'That's what Tara is for!' She thought bitterly.

"Willow, you do. I am worried. I think Rack is going after you in a bad way. I sure as hell will be staying away from him. It was a mistake and I really am sorry for taking you there.

"Amy, don't be sorry. I loved it. The rush! It felt amazing!"

"So him trying to cop a feel was amazing, too?" Amy asked sarcastically.

Willow's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe it. She spun round to face Amy.

"No, no! It was a dream. He..." She trailed off as the memory of Rack's lips and hands on her body returned. "But I'm gay now!"

"So?" Amy asked harshly. "You think that would stop him?"

"But, but..." Willow trailed off; she felt sick. The silence in the room was deafening.

"Willow, I had to hide you behind some serious wards last night. He was searching for you and he got close!" Amy watched the mixed emotions cross Willow's face. "He was scratching on the wards for a while and then vanished. I really think you have to be careful. Please. I would feel terrible if he hurt you." She crossed the room and took Willow's cold hands in her own. 'Maybe she would be safer hidden here behind the wards. Buffy's good in a fight, but she couldn't do much if Rack hit her with one of his specials. Crap. Dad is not gonna be happy. But hey, I pay rent, so I can have a friend over.'

 "Look, stay here, forget my Dad. But you have to tell everyone what's going on. I'll be there, it'll be ok." She rubbed her hands over Willow's cool fingers, trying to warm them.

"Okay, I'll tell them. But I can stay here? Promise?" Willow mentally crossed her fingers. 'Man, she is a pushover. I can hide out here until they clean up the shop. Once that's done, I can get back to Buffy's and everything will be alright.' She spotted the bookshelves filled with Witchcraft texts and through the doorway could see the armoire filled with magical tools and various potions. 'Bonus! When she's gone I can search for a spell to fix everything. Maybe something to fix Dawn's arm as well! It's not like I could at home, since the magical purge.'

"Amy, I'm really tired. Can I rest a bit?"

"Sure. I have to get to work. Do you want me to call Buffy or Xander and tell them where you are?"

"No, I'll do it when I wake up."
 
*********
 
"Spike lips, yum, lips of Spike!" Buffy murmured. As she zeroed in on them, she caught his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down gently. Spike's eyes fluttered open. He gazed adoringly at the little blonde. He could hear Tara and Dawn moving around in the kitchen, mixing up a potion from the smell of it. The pungent smells wafted through the house into the sitting room. He pulled Buffy closer as he lay back on the couch. His tongue tangled with Buffy's as his hands slid under her nightshirt. He smoothed his fingers over her ribs and around to her soft back. He tickled her gently and grinned as she broke off their kiss to giggle and twist in his arms.

"Come on, pet. Get some clothes on and give Anya a bell." Buffy pouted at him, but at the same time rose and shot out of the room. He heard her clatter up the stairs and into the bathroom.

"Spike?" He focused his gaze on the blonde girl who stood hesitantly in front of him. "Dawn's getting ready for school; she's going to stay with me until you get back. I don't want Willow near her at the moment." Tara stopped and fiddled with the jar in her hands. "Here, this should work. I m... mean it'll help. It will probably heal him enough to leave the hospital, but it depends on the wound. Just dab it on and then in a few seconds it'll do its work."

"Any side effects?"

"N... no, he'll feel much better, that's all." She sat down next to Spike and rested her hands in her lap. He reached over and very tentatively took them in his. Tara didn't pull away; instead, she rested her head on his shoulder. Spike froze, surprised that she hadn't pulled away and run screaming out of the house. He was unused to anyone human accepting an offer of comfort from him. Well, anyone but Buffy and Dawn. "You're a good person, Spike." Tara mumbled into his shoulder. "Thank you."

The normally verbose vampire was silent. He was struck dumb at Tara's words. 'A person! She thinks I am a person. And she thanked me. That rarely happens.' Spike squeezed her hands. 'Well, that's that! She's mine now.'

"Tara, luv. Thanks, I...I..." Spike trailed off, unsure as to what to say. Before he could form a thought, Tara looked up at him and smiled. 'Now I see how easily it is to love this girl, she is amazing.' He actually pitied Red despite everything she had done. She would never again have this girl smiling at her. They sat in silence for several minutes, enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, Tara. What yah doing macking on my man?" Buffy stood in the hallway, grinning at the two of them. Her smile was returned by both of them.

"Oh come on, Buffy, he's cured me. I only want men from now on!" Tara teased, grinning at her friend.

"Well, I'm sorry about that, luv, the ladies' loss is our gain." Spike waggled his eyebrows at both of the girls. "All packed?" He gestured to the backpack by her feet.

"Yeah, I think it's probably better if we plan for a couple of days. Wes may need some help settling in, or, if I can get him to agree, maybe he could come back here to Sunnydale. What do you think?"

"Good thinking, can we swing by the crypt so you can hop out and grab some clothes for me?"

"Sure, we can do it on the way to the Magic Box. I spoke to Anya and she's okay about us bailing on her, but I promised we'd pop in and see her before we go."
 
*********
 
"Now behave for Tara and do your homework. If you're good, there may be a pressie from LA." Spike pressed a kiss on the teen's forehead and gave her a hug.

"Love you guys. Have fun and give Wesley this." Dawn pressed a card into Spike's hand and darted out of the car. She waved as the Desoto shot off down the street.

"Umm, Spike, how can you drive with the windows like this?" Tara asked, as she rubbed her fingers over the painted window.

"Vamp ESP, pet. Don't worry; you're safe. Hell of a lot safer than if Buffy was driving!"

"Hey!" Buffy glared over at the peroxide menace as she slid over and curled up against his lean form. "I'm not that bad..." She trailed off as she heard Tara giggle and Spike laugh out loud. She pouted. "Well, if someone would give me lessons maybe I'd get better!"

"Slayer, I love you too much to teach you how to drive." Spike retorted.

"Whaaa? Why?"

"Think of the fights we'd have!"

She sat and contemplated him for a moment. "Yeah, you're right. I guess it's professional driving lessons for me!" She grumped and folded her arms over her breasts.
Spike listened to the two girls chattering away as he navigated the traffic. He squinted through the small peephole in the windshield and turned left. He pulled up at the gates of his cemetery and switched off the engine.

"Here we are, luv. Just nip into the crypt and grab me some shirts. Also, while you're there, look in the Sarcophagus. There's a lock box; bring it with you. We'll need some dosh for this jaunt."

Spike and Tara sat in the darkened car in silence, waiting for Buffy to return.

Bang.

Buffy slid into the car careful not to expose Spike to the sunlight. "There, I put your stuff in the trunk with mine." She announced breathlessly, holding the lock box in her hands. "I didn't know where to put this." She thrust it into his hand. Spike tossed it onto the dashboard as he started the engine and peeled away from the curb in a screech of dust.
 
*********
 
"Burning vamp coming through!" Spike yelled as he ran into the Magic Box, tripping over Xander who was crouched in the doorway sweeping up debris. "Yaah!" They both went flying, much to the amusement of the three girls who watched them tumble into each other.

"So much for vamp elegance and stealth!" Buffy teased as she reached down and pulled Spike to his feet. "Oh, Anya, I am so sorry about this!" Buffy was careful not to voice their suspicions about Willow. They had discussed it on the way over and until they had proof, it would probably be better to keep Xander and Anya out of the loop.

"Anya, this is terrible!" Tara reached over and wrapped Xander's distraught fiancée in a warm hug which Buffy joined. They cocooned Anya between them, muttering soothing nonsense. "Don't worry, I'll skip class and help out."

"Yeah, unlike some others," Xander grumbled as he stood and turned to resume his sweeping.

"What was that, floppy boy?" Spike snarled.

"Now, Xander, that is not nice. We discussed this earlier. They have to go to see Mr. Wyndam-Price. That's what friends do. They help each other, don't they?" Anya interjected. She patted Tara on the back and stepped away. "Really, I'd have thought that after playing doctors and nurses, you would be happier about Spike and Buffy. I even let you wear the nurse's uniform and tied you up with the stethoscope!"

Buffy and Tara grimaced at the thought of Xander in a skirt, then they caught each other's eyes and grinned; both of them realising that they had shared the same mental image.

"Anya! TMI." Xander glared at her, furious at her sharing their intimate moment. Also, he didn't need Spike knowing that much about their role-playing.

Spike sauntered over to the red-faced male. "So, got a bit of a kink on last night, Harris? You know, if you're into the whole S & M scene, I know of this place. It's just outside of town, but you can really go wild there." He waggled his eyebrows at the now maroon Xander. He moved closer and whispered into Xander's ear, "Never pegged you for a cross dresser!" He danced out of Xander's reach as the incensed male swung a punch at him.

"Xander, no!" Anya yelled.

"Spike, stop it!" Buffy and Tara shouted in unison, both trying not to laugh at Spike's antics. He had leapt up onto the research table and was waving a feather duster at Xander and laughing his head off.

Before any of the girls could intervene, the phone rang.

"Magic Box, how may I service you? Oh it's you, Willow." Anya shrugged and turned to face the counter. Buffy, Tara and Spike froze and listened intently. Xander watched the three of them, wondering why they were so interested in what Anya and Willow were talking about. "Really? Nana Rosenberg? I didn't know you had a Nana. She's unwell? Ah. Okay, a couple of days? Well, it's a pity as we could have used your help. What with?" Anya paused and twisted the telephone cord in her fingers. "It's awful Willow!" She blurted out. "Someone evil has destroyed the shop, everything is in pieces. It's all ruined." Anya burst into tears and dropped the phone. Buffy caught it and pressed it to her ear.

"Willow, it's me, Buffy. Sorry about that, Anya's really upset. What's up with your Nana? Okay so we'll see you in a couple of days. Naw! Chill out; everything'll be okay here. You just help your Grandma out." Buffy hung up the phone and frowned.

Willow put the phone down and sighed. 'Overreact much, Anya?'

She pulled one of Amy's spellbooks over, flicking through the pages as she searched for a spell to make it all right. It didn't cross her mind to ask after Dawn, she was too absorbed in her research.

Tara wandered around the shop trying to sense the source of the magic, her shoulders slumped. She looked over at Spike, who now sat crossed-legged on the table, fiddling with the feather duster. He tilted his head questioningly. She bit her lip and nodded. He sighed in disappointment. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, causing it to curl and stand up on end, only stopping when Buffy sat next to him and smiled sadly up at him.

"Time's a wasting, pet. We'd better head off to LA." Spike clapped his hands together and jumped to his feet as he reached over and pulled Buffy up. "Tara?" He looked over at the quiet Wiccan who was picking through the herbs trying to rescue as much as she could.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?" Spike cocked his head and watched her closely.

"Course she's okay, fangless." Xander interjected. "Why don't you guys just go?"

"Tara?" Spike ignored Xander and stepped over to the quiet girl, pulling Buffy along with him.

"It's okay, you guys go. Just call us with a contact number when you get there." She patted Spike on the shoulder and turned back to her sorting.

"Anya, we'll call you tonight." Buffy shuffled her feet, feeling self-conscious.

"Sure, off you go. Help that poor man. We'll have everything sorted by the time you get back. Drive safely!"
 
*********
 
Buffy's high-heeled sandals clicked loudly on the linoleum as she trotted down the hallway. Spike sauntered along beside her, the two of them presenting an incongruous image; sleek, well groomed California Girl and Bad Boy Punk, but it worked.

"Come on, Spike, we're late. I don't want Wesley to think he's on his own." They rounded the corner and arrived in the ICU. "Where's his room?" She paused and then spotted the open door, "There, come on." She pulled on Spike's leather-clad arm the bright balloons she had bought in the gift shop bouncing behind them. She shifted the bag of goodies they had bought for the patient. Spike cocked his head to one side; he could hear a voice coming from the ex-Watcher's room.

"Hold up, luv. There's some bird in there." The two of them leaned against the wall and tried not to eavesdrop, but they couldn't help but overhear.

"Hi, Wesley. How are you feeling? Oh. But it's not permanent, right?"

'Won't be once we get in there, sweetheart!' Buffy thought. 'Maybe we should wait until after we talk to that nurse... Oooh, what was her name?'

"I brought some of your stuff from the office. Things there are... well, things. Gunn and I found your notes about... the baby. The prophecy. You took him away 'cause you thought Angel was gonna kill him. You were trying to protect him. Both of them."

Buffy and Spike stared at each other in shock.

"Luv, the Junior Watcher must have thought Peaches was startin' up on chomping on little 'uns, again. What the bloody hell is going on?" Spike whispered. Before Buffy could reply, the young woman in Wesley's room continued her one-sided conversation.

"I just wanted you to know I understand that. I also wanted to say... What Angel tried to do to you was wrong, and I'm sorry. But he was right to blame you, Wesley.
"Spike," Buffy tightened her grip on his arm so much so he winced. "That nurse said someone tried to kill Wesley, do you think...?"

"Who knows, luv, we'll ask the Watcherboy once the bird's gone." He whispered back. Noticing her worried face, he smoothed his index finger over her cheek. "None of that, pet, it's not Angelus. The cheerleader would have phoned screaming for Red by now."

"You should've come to us. You should've trusted us instead of going to Holtz behind our backs."

Spike jumped at the sound of that familiar name. He remembered it from all the times Angelus cursed the vamp hunter for causing Darla, James, Elizabeth and himself so much trouble. Also, he remembered Darla gloating over the two of them draining his wife and children. He frowned, confused, 'but that was over a hundred years ago?'

"You were supposed to be our friend and you didn't even... If Angel sees you again, he'll kill you, Wesley. This time for real! Don't come back to the hotel. Ever." Fred tried to avoid looking at Wes, feeling a bit guilty at the shock in the silent man's eyes.

"The prophecy was a fake. Angel was never gonna hurt Connor. It was all for nothing." Fred turned and left the room, leaving Wesley lying there in shock. She slammed into Buffy as she swung out of the hospital room.

"Oops, sorry!" Fred giggled and steadied herself. "Didn't see ya'll there." Buffy glared at the tall Texan.

"No problem, just watch where you're going," she snapped back, her anger at what she had overheard colouring her words. "Excuse us." Fred looked at the blonde couple in surprise, then, walked off without a backward glance, a self-righteous air surrounding her. "Bitch!" Buffy snarled as she watched the tall girl's back, her protective instincts leaping to the fore. 'You never kick a man when he's down. Well unless he's evil!' Buffy thought as she tapped her well shod foot on the clean floor.

"So, do you think working for Peaches makes you end up being a sanctimonious prig like him?" Spike drawled as he walked into Wesley's room. Buffy stalked in after him, fury evident in her eyes. Wesley looked up in surprise at his two visitors.

"Hey, Wes, we come bearing gifts and pretty balloons." Buffy walked over to her ex-watcher, gently taking his hand and squeezing it. She smiled at the bemused man.

"Alright, mate?" Spike picked up the patient chart and quickly read through the notes. "Guess you can't answer me at the mo?"

Wes shook his head gently, trying not to re-open the deep cut on his throat. He pointed over at the stand next to the bed. Spike reached over and handed him the notepad and pen. Buffy eased herself onto the bed, not relinquishing the mute man's hand.

"Wes, we got your message. Well, the nurse's. Giles has left Sunnydale, he's..." Her eyes filled with tears. "He's staying in England. So, we thought that you wouldn't mind us coming. Hey, friendly faces are good when you're stuck in hospital, right?" She squeezed his hand gently and smiled at him. "If you don't want us here we can..." Wes shook his head carefully. "Okay, that's good then. You're stuck with us!"

Wes handed the pad over to Spike, who was now lounging in a chair, his legs spread. He squinted at the precise writing.

"I guess tiny writing is a Watcher thing, eh? Who am I?" Spike grinned wickedly. "Now brace yourself, mate. The name's Spike. I also go by William the Bloody."

Wes raised his eyebrows and then grinned, he gestured for the pad. Scribbling furiously on it for a few seconds he tossed it back at the vamp who was now watching him closely.

'Thought so. Giles mentioned that you were helping out. But why are you here?'

"Ahh, the eternal question. Descartes had a theory, but I guess that's not what you meant. Mate, where-ever my heart goes, so do I." He gestured to the tiny blonde perched demurely on the bed. "Hope you haven't a problem with that?" His eyes flashed gold for a split second. Wes just smiled and raised his eyebrows, unimpressed by the testosterone oozing from the Vamp.

"Love, what about the potion Glinda whipped up for the Watcher?"

"Crap, I forgot. Hang on, Wes." Buffy scrabbled through her rucksack. With a sigh of relief, she brandished the small pot of ointment. "Here, um, we have to put this on your..." She gestured to the covered wound. Wes frowned at the two blondes, completely perplexed as to what they were talking about.

"It's ok, mate. Glinda's one of the White Hats. She mixed something up to sort you out."

'What?' He scribbled on the pad and held it up for both of them to read.

"Wes, it's really cool. It's a healing potion. Tara said it might not get rid of the scar, but she thinks it will heal you enough so that you can talk." Buffy pushed the small pot into the injured man's hand. Wes twisted the cover off and sniffed it.

'Heliotrope, Myrtle and Oil of Evening Primrose.' Wes couldn't identify any of the other ingredients by smell, but the potion seemed fairly innocuous.

"Glinda said it's a recipe she found in her mum's old book." Spike stood, walked over to the door and clicked it shut. "Won't do if we're interrupted, eh?"

"Wes? Do you want me to put some on?" Buffy asked. Wes contemplated the two of them. He was completely wrong footed. One minute he was devastated by Fred's attack, and now, both a Slayer and an infamous Master Vampire were mothering him! Certainly not something Watcher Training had prepared him for.

He nodded and closed his eyes.

"Here love, go wash your hands. Or better yet, slip on some of those enema gloves." Wes's eyes snapped open and he glared at the laughing peroxide blonde. "Now, now, Watcher. None of that! The ointment goes on the wound not up the arse!"

"Spike!" Buffy wapped him on the arm, trying not to grin at the look of horror on their prospective patient's face. She pulled on the afore-mentioned gloves and came back to the bed.

"Watcher, hold still while I get the bandages off. It may hurt a bit. Trust me, okay?"

Surprisingly, Wes did trust him and the girl that was fluttering nervously at his side. He trusted them a lot more than his so-called friends who had left him here alone. So he blinked his eyes in agreement and closed them. Spike reached over and began to gently peel the stained micro-pore dressings off. They pulled on the wound, causing Wes to wince occasionally.

"Oh!" Buffy gasped in shock. Finally, the surgically precise cut was revealed. It was not pretty. Blood oozed from one end where Spike had inadvertently pulled at one of the stitches. She exchanged a horrified look with her lover. They were both a little worried that the salve Tara had given them wouldn't be enough to heal the bleeding incision.

"Go on, pet. Gentle like." Spike encouraged the frozen Slayer. Buffy caught his eyes and nodded, grateful for his calm encouragement.

"Wes, it might be a bit cool and Tara said there would be a tingling sensation, so try not to move too much." She took a deep breath. Reaching into the pot, she scooped out some of the sweet-smelling concoction.  Scrunching her nose delicately, she dabbed on some of the potion. When Wes twitched from the coolness, she paused, waiting for him to relax, and then continued working her way around his neck. All of this was done in silence. The only noises were those filtering under the door from the ICU.

"There. That's all of it. Buffy peeled off the gloves and dropped them and the empty pot into her rucksack. "Wes? You okay?" she asked. He opened his eyes and blinked at her. "I'll take that as a yes." She grinned at him and reclaimed his hand. Spike stood behind her, his eyes focused on the wound. Watching. Waiting. Then, gradually, a silver shimmer appeared. Wes gasped.

"Looks like Glinda's mojo's working." The two watched, mesmerised at the speed at which the wound knitted. "Can you talk yet, mate?" Wes swallowed, unnerved by the sensations emanating from the wound. He cleared his throat carefully; relieved when it didn't hurt. He smiled.

"Well, that certainly helped," he rasped.

"Wes! It worked!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Don't sound so surprised, pet," Spike snarked gently.

"Thank you. Both of you," Wes whispered. 

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