Part 13

"Just keep calm, and you'll do fine," Angel assured her as they waited for security clearance into the basement.
Willow gave him a weak smile and took his hand. The doors buzzed open.
"Giles?" Willow asked, walking into the darkened library with heavy trepidation. "Are you in here?"
"Willow," he said, appearing out of nowhere from the stacks. "Feeling better?"
"Uh, yes, I am," she said, trying to get her heartbeat to slow. "I--"
"Good," he said, consulting the book in his hand. "I'm sorry to say we haven't been able to find anymore information on the prophecy, or about the ceremony it describes."
"Well," she saidm squeezing Angel's hand for comfort. "I think I can help with that. . .I want to try again. With the channeling, I mean. I'm not. . .promising anything, but. . .I think I can do it-- maybe."
His face softened a bit. "Willow, if you're not comfortable with this. . ."
"Then the whole world goes to hell in a handbasket."
Silence.
"Let's get started then, shall we?"
***
Willow lay down on the heavy mahogany table and let the soft candle light wash over her. *Relax*. She inhaled the sweet scent of lavender and felt her back meld into the wood. Giles's voice was a distant noise, chanting unnecessarily.
She was coming.
It started as a cool breeze, refreshing but chilling. It shifted into Willow gracefully, encompassing her completely. She had to fight not to scream, because it felt like she was drowning, *drowning, goddamnit*, and Willow's soul began to weep as she slid into darkness. . .
***
Everything about her was different when she sat up. Her heartbeat, her breathing, her scent, even the rhthym that her hair fell over her shoulder to, it was all altered. Angel found himself repeled and confused: he wanted to hold her, but it wasn't *her*. He felt something primal in him crying for his mate. . .
She was speaking.
"Blessed Be," She greeted them. They all mumbled it in return.
"Welcome," Giles said softly.
She reached out to caress his cheek, as a mother would do. "Rupert Giles. Your service to me has been noted and recieved gratefully. The world is in danger again," she took the book he was holding. "and when the time comes, nothing in here can help you. When the darkness comes, my child will be alone, and you cannot help her."
"I don't accept that," Angel said softly. "I can't leave her. . ."
She turned to him, exuding peace and love. "Your heart and love for her are both pure. Your soul is old and good, as is hers. I know you cannot leave her, not willingly, but some things cannot be helped. You cannot protect her."
Tears formed in both Giles' and Angel's eyes. She looked at both of them, and joined their hands in hers. "Both of you love her, with everything you are. That is good. But you must heal the rift between yourselves, or you will loose her. Follow your heart. Trust each other." She looked specifically at Giles. "Trust each other, only, for when the time comes, the sun will hide and trusted friends will show to be enemies."
Her eyes rolled back into her head and her body went limp. Both men cought her, laid her gently back, and held their breath until they heard her voice.
"What'd I miss?"

Part 14

"Neck hurts?" Angel asked, already reaching over to rub it.
Willow began to giggle uncontrolably.
"What?"
"You're a vampire, and you're asking if my neck hurts!" she screamed with laughter. "Isn't that considerate!"
Angel stared at her for a few minutes, then leaned over a flipped the book she was reading shut. "It's definately time for you to take a break."
She rubbed her face. "Yeah, I think you're right. I have to go to the bathroom."
"I don't remember anything in a prophecy about that."
She smiled. "Oh, it's a lost one, in the Book of Willow. 'The Eternal Child will stand up. She will straighten her skirt. She will go to the bathroom. She will pee. She shall wash her hands and she shall wash her face. She shall come again. She will drink a cup of coffee. It *will* be Taster's Choice,' which, have you noticed, Giles drinks a *lot* of, 'and then she will sharpen a pencil. Then she will do something else in a prophecy because her whole like has been prophecized. See Chapter Two for how she will brush her teeth the next morning.' "
Angel leaned in and kissed her. "You have cabin fever. Go walk around. I'll continue here."
"I'm serious," she said as she stood up. "Do you have any idea how much is written about us in here? It's ridiculous. I'm suprised it doesn't detail that thing I do with my tounge that makes you--"
"Willow!"
"What!? There's nobody around. You're such a prude."
"When I was raised, things dealing with the bedroom stayed there."
"Welcome to the 90's. Ahem. The *19*90's."
***
Willow walked into the main part of the library, where Giles was speaking to the man who had met her at the airport and had escorted her to the basement that morning.
"Giles," she said. Both men turned around.
"Oh, Willow," Rupert said, indicating the man. "I trust you met my nephew, Jonathan."
"We haven't been formerly introduced yet," she said, shaking his hand. She was suprised; Giles had never mention family before. . .
"Jonathan is Head of Secuirity for the Council," he boasted proudly.
"That's very impressive. Where's the bathroom?"
Giles blinked at her, but Jonathan laughed. "As secuirity god of the International House of Watchers, not to be confused with pancakes, mind you, I think I can show you where the loo is. C'mon then."
"Well, he certainly had his 'proud' face on," Willow said as she was led down what seemed to be endless corridors.
Jonathan blushed. "He can go overboard at times. . .he was just so glad to find out I was alive, you know?"
Willow stopped. "No, I didn't know. What happened."
He looked down. "My mother was a watcher. . .she died in the line of duty when I was a baby, and my father nearly lost his mind over it. He severed all ties with the Council and raised me in Italy. Then, about four years ago, he was attacked. . .and killed. A Slayer found his body, and came over to inform me of my father's death. I think she started to tell me he was hit by a car. That's when she recognized me."
"How?" Willow asked.
"As fate should have it, her watcher at the time was Uncle Rupert. He had a picture of me and my family on his desk. . .we had the same one on the mantle. So she told me the truth, and called him, and. . .here I am."
"Zany. . ." Willow said. "I'm sorry about your parents, Jonathan. They must have been very brave."
"That's kind of you," he said, looking away. "They were. My mother, especially."
He finally stopped in front of a doorway marked with a stick figure in a skirt.
"Thank you," she said, disapearing inside. She finished her business quickly, but was suprised to see him still waiting for her inthe hallway. "I could have found my way back," she said, blushing.
"We're not going back the same way we came. Patterns, Willow, are what can kill you. You're never to use the same hallway twice, understand? For that matter, all of your things have been moved to a completely different room than the one you used last night."
"Is all that really necessary?" she asked, scared. He touched her arm, leaned in closer.
"What happened this morning was close, Willow, very, very close. The eclipse is in three days and chances are attacks are going to be more frequent than ever. I'm not planning on letting anything happen to the only chance we've got of survival."
On impulse and a bit awkwardly, she hugged him. "Thank you," she said.
He held her tightly and warmly. "My pleasure."
She drew back, blushing bright red. She felt warm in ways she definately should NOT be feeling. "We'd better get back."
He nodded and she began to walk. He watched her for a moment, his kind eyes narrowing to slits.
"No," he whispered under his breath. "*Nothing's* going to stop me from surviving."
 

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