Part 11

A trippy elevator ride later, Willow and Angel found themselves ensconsed in the basement of the building. Giles was there, pacing.
"What's going on?" Willow demanded. "It sounds like the buildings about to come down on our heads."
"We're under attack," he said calmly.
"Obviously. Why?!"
"As I explained last night, you are the key to stopping the demon world from overtaking ours. The vampire, etc. community is not pleased about your existence. They never actually expected you to be called. So as soon as the sun set tonight. . ."
"It's open season for Willow hunters?" she supplied.
"Something like that."
Angel's hand gripped her shoulder tightly. "We should have stayed in Ireland then," he pointed out angrily. "The demon population in London is more concentrated. And we could have performed the ceremony there just as easily as here."
"I agree. Unfortunatly, the Council does not consider you to be an appropriate body-guard for the Eternal Child."
There was a strained silence, and Willow knew that Angel was deeply wounded by Giles' remark.
"So instead, you basically kidnap me, don't tell me what's going on, and leave those idiots to protect me?" She walked around the room cagedly. "Good show, Giles."
"I admit that security at the Council is a bit unorganized on the surface--"
"But that's not his fault. He only wants to protect you, Willow." A new voice came from behind her, from a woman that had been sitting there quietly, unbeknownst to Willow.
"Joyce?" she asked, shocked. The other woman had obviously been roused just as rudely as they had. Her hair was matted and she was wearing a bathrobe.
They stumbled into an embrace. "W-what are you doing here? What happened to Oregon?"
"Uh," she glanced at Giles. "England happened instead." She backed up and slid an arm around Rupert's waist.
"Wow," Willow said, shocked, but not suprised. Joyce shrugged and grinned. Giles gave a sheepish smile that took several years off his face.
Someone began to pound at the heavy steel door. Knots tied Willow's stomach up, and she sought Angel's hand frantically. The group listened in heavy silence to the sounds of the battle. Giles consulted his watch.
"It should end soon. The sun's going to start rising in fifteen minutes." Then, as if on cue, the sounds ceased.
"Is it over?" Willow asked. Her whisper sounded like a scream in the sudden quiet.
"I think so," Giles replied. "But we should stay here for the time being, until the building is secured."
Willow stepped away from Angel's side to examine her suroundings. It was a long room, designed for research. There were books aplenty and a state of the art computer system on the far wall.
"Well," she said, cracking her knuckles. "Let's get busy then."
***
Angel absently stroked Willow's hair as he skimmed the volume in his lap. She had fallen asleep reading hours ago, and was now snoring softly against his thigh. He looked at the garnet-colored strands sliding through his fingers and found himself wondering what it looked like in the sunlight. His eyes drooped slightly, and he couldn't help but think how wonderful it would be to hunker down next to Willow on the couch and sleeep for a few minutes. . .hours.
Then he shook himself. Sorting out the prophecy should be the first thing on his mind right now: it was imperitive to Willow's life. Whoever the daywalker was would be the key to the whole thing.
*It must be someone linked to her. . .* he thought, absently rubbing his jaw. *Not me.'Daywalker demons are so rare. . .Whistler, I guess, maybe. . .Of course, it doesn't say it has to be a demon. It could just be symbolic for humans. . .Giles? Oz? * He growled in frustation, at his own inability to protect her. *She could die doing this, or worse, knowing the demon dimension, and I won't be able to do a damn thing about it. . .if she doesn't stop squirming I'm going to have a problem. . .*
"Willow?" he whispered. She was gently tossing her head, with a pained expression on her face. He could feel her breath quicken and her muscles lock.
*It's happening again,* he realized. "Giles!" He slid out from under her, gently cradling her head. "Willow, don't fight it," he whispered to her.
Giles knelt over her, took her pulse. "It's slowing. She's allowing it."
A peaceful expression overtook Willow's features. *She almost looks drunk* Angel thought. They all waited with bated breath. Very slowly, her eyes opened.
"Blessed Be," she said. "Rupert Giles, Joyce Summers, Angel Boyle. There is much to do to stop the darkness, and little time to do it." Suddenly her face was contorted and she began to scream without making any actual noise. She gasped in air and the feeling of magick, which had been tangible, dissipated. She was gone.
"I'm sorry," Willow sobbed. "I'm sorry, Giles. I can't. . .she was *in* me. . .you don't know what it's like! I. . ."
Angel felt her tears falling on his bare chest and pulled her closer. "Shhhh, Willow, no one's mad at you," he told her gently. It did little to soothe her. He met Giles's eyes. "Is it safe to go back to our room now? I think she needs some air."
He nodded. "Of course. I am going to have to post guards though."
"Whatever,"Angel said, scooping her up easily. "She just needs some time to sort this out-- process it."
"Take all the time you need," he said distantly. "We'll continue research and see you tonight."
Angel frowned at the coldness of his tone. "Tonight, then," he said, staring at him in cold anger. *If you say one word to her, I'll pick up where I left off with the chainsaw. . .*

Part 12

Willow cradled her head in her arms, facedown on the pillows. "Mmmm, lower," she said, tears still evident in her voice.
Angel obligingly moved his large hands down on her bare back, using his tumbs to press along her spinal chord.
"That feels good," she mumbled.
"I aim to please."
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. "I don't think I can do this."
He hesitated in speaking. "What do you *want* to do?"
She chuckled, disheartened. "I want to be in a remote cottage with you, somewhere far, far away from here where there are no demons or eclipses that could kill the world, or things trying to posses my body but I don't see that happening anytime soon, do you?" She shut her eyes and two more tears slipped out.
Angel slipped off his seat on her butt and lay down next to her, keeping on hand between her shoulder blades. "I wish we could have that too, Willow. More than anything, I'd like to hold you while we watched the sun rise, to see what your hair looks like in the light. To be able to save you from this."
She turned on her side, sad shock written on her face. For the first time she realized what the prophecy must be doing to him-- it specifically discounted him . .
He shut his eyes when she cupped his cheek in her small hand, but turned his face into her touch to nuzzle and kiss her fingers.
"Angel," she whispered. "I am happy with you. I *love* you. And I have never once doubted or regretted anything in our relationship. I couldn't have survived. . ." She choked on emotion. "Please don't hurt yourself like this," she pleaded.
"Oh, Willow," he said, pulling her warm body against his cold one. "What would I do without you?" he whispered into herr hair.
"You might be finding out soon," she said softly.
He pushed her back violently. "Don't you *dare* say that, Willow. I mean it. We're going to beat this--"
"I can't!" she yelled at him. She sat up and sheilded her eyes. "I can't fight this! I don't know how! And every time I. . .when She comes to me, Angel, I can't let Her in. You don't understand-- She takes over, forces me aside. And it's so cold there. . ."
"I don't understand, Willow? No, how could I? I mean, how would I know what it's like to have you hummanity surrendered to something supernatural and unfamiliar? To lose control over your own actions? I couldn't possibly--"
"I'm sorry," she whispered, agast at her own insensitivity. "I didn't mean. . .I'm an idiot, aren't I?"
He smiled at her, nuzzled against her neck. "Yes, but you're my idiot."
She sighed and played with his hands. "Can we beat this?"
"Yes. I'll teach you how to channel the Goddess without loosing all control. We'll find out what's going on and we'll beat this."
"Aren't you the optimist?"
"I can brood about it for the rest of the afternoon, if you like."
"No," she said, drawing the sheet up around them. "I can think of something else you to do this afternoon."
"Mmm," he mumbled as she kissed him. "That feels good."
 
 

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