~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 11~
They'd been there for a while, Amy pondering things that she'd seen at the college, Willow trying to go over her History notes and reading. Giles came into the research room, muttering about shipping expenses, and the packing boxes before putting a few books on the table, and pages with careful notes.
Willow looked over, hopeful that this was something that she might be able o help with. "Giles? What's up? Prophecy of doom, new demon threat? Can I help?"
"No, not really. It's just a matter of some precautionary research. nothing that you'd be interested in, I'm sure." Giles didn't even look up from his book, tracing his fingers over a picture of a broken pot.
Willow felt hurt by this. She'd only offered to help. but apparently, her help wasn't needed. "Oh. Right then. I'll just. we'll just be going now."
They didn't go to the Rosenberg house. Instead, Willow and Amy went back to the mansion. They alternated time practicing basic magical skills with cleaning, even using some magical telekinesis to remove cobwebs and push cleaning rags over grimed windows. It was far from fun, and left the pair of them feeling rather tired, but the mansion was looking better.
"Why don't we just stay here instead?" Amy's words were soft, spoken from a position stretched on the floor in front of the fireplace.
"Well." Willow paused, considering the idea. "No power or phone yet, and all our clothing is still at the Rosenberg house. But maybe after we get it fixed up a bit better."
"Goody. Let's not move for a while." Amy sounded tired.
A voice carried into the room, distracting both of them from their thoughts. "Glad that I could catch the pair of you. Much easier with both of you right here."
Willow turned, looking towards the speaker. He didn't look very tall, or very muscular. His clothing fit rather loosely, with the most hideously plaid jacket. and this. hat. "Who. are you Whistler?"
"Got it in one, Red. You can consider me a messenger from the guys upstairs. And they've got plans for the pair of you." He sauntered over, dropping onto the couch, coughing at the cloud of dust this raised. "Bit dusty in here, isn't it?"
Amy snickered, having pulled herself into a sitting position. "Yeah. apparently when Angel left town, he canceled his contract with the cleaning service."
Willow looked at Whistler. He looked human, but he didn't feel quite right. "What plans? Neither of us are Slayers, or laden with big redemption curse thingies. Why do these powers care what happens to either of us?"
"Good point. You didn't get drafted by destiny like the Slayer. You didn't make such a big bloody mess like Angel did. although if you don't have some guidance there are some big worries about things going bad. the things I heard from this one Seer. Curl your hair." He leaned back, shaking his head a bit. "Thing is, ladies, they think the two of you could do big things for the side of Good. To help you out, they sent me here to help with things. Smooth out the finances, help fix up the place, make sure you've got proper training. the whole works."
"Running water and air conditioning. Please." Amy's words were a bit dry, accompanied by a wave through the hot and dusty air.
Whistler just laughed, the hand holding his hat relaxed on the dusty leather couch. "Great sense of humor you got there, Amy. No, see, you two get to set all that up, I just make sure that the basics are covered. You got a bank account for your expenses. it should cover those, but I don't set that up. Should cover a few other odds and ends, but They aren't springing for the lap of luxury for the two of you. And you might not be staying in Sunnydale forever."
Willow looked at him. "We're going to get real teaching? Not 'I need you to cast this spell or we're all dead' followed by cut down on the magic? And you're going to make sure that we get taught the right way?"
"Yeah. although the thing is that there's a lot of ways people can do magic. The pair of you are going to have to learn a little about all of them, and then how to mix and match the styles however you need to in order to get stuff done. No 'one true path of magic' garbage here." Whistler was scowling.
"I was meaning more the way to get things done without getting blown up or the spell going wiggy than a proper path that's got a seal of approval." Willow murmured, still watching Whistler. "Sort of... here's the instructions, and why they work?"
"Ohh. right. Yeah, the way to get things done effectively and why it works." He gave a weak grin. "Sorry. sometimes people just expect a rulebook and step by step instructions for everything."
"No. a good grounding in how things work, and what doesn't work is better than step by steps instructions." Willow shivered, remembering the step by step Books of Ascension from the Mayor's office. "And a clear idea of who's on our team would help."
"Nobody else just yet. but you'll get some more help soon enough. Just. I'm not allowed to say who yet. And you may need to help with some of it." Whistler just smiled, apparently amused by something.
Willow glanced at Amy, and then back to where Whistler. had been a moment ago "Where did he go? Okay. that was weird. So. we get a teacher with weird clothing, and more help later, but he can't tell us who?"
Amy sighed, looking amused. "At least it isn't Buffy."
"True. We'll just have to keep going and find out." Willow shrugged, feeling strangely optimistic about the whole thing.
~Part: 12~
Willow found herself almost reluctant to return to the Rosenberg house. She had the feeling that things were fragmenting, something that she could almost push away while working at the mansion. But she did go back, mostly because that was where there was food, a shower, and clean clothing.
"Got to start getting things working there. Showers. food. All that good stuff." Amy's wistful words let Willow know that's he wasn't the only one who felt that way.
"Yeah. We'll have to do that." Willow sighed, looking over the empty feeling house. There was stuff, but it didn't feel like home. How could she be more comfortable in a dust-laden place of stifling air and baffling visitors than she did at the place where she'd lived for years?
As Willow tucked herself into her bed, she made herself a promise: tomorrow, she'd call the utility companies and get things moving for the mansion. The sooner they could just live there, the better things would be. And she would finally be learning proper magical control.
Wesley had spent the day talking to various people in a series of long distance telephone calls. Some had been in French; one had been in German, leaving Cordelia frustrated. Angel had been listening to some of them, wondering how much luck Wesley would have talking to various contacts among the Watchers.
Finally, Wesley came out into the main area, looking unhappy and frustrated. "Well, we have some news, and some bad news. Which would you like first?"
"Let's go with... wait, there isn't any good news?" Cordelia frowned, looking t Wesley as if it was his fault.
Sitting in a chair, he looked at her. "No, I'm afraid that there really isn't anything that I'd classify as good. The closest is that some of my contacts with the Council are still speaking to me, and were willing to help try to find information."
Angel sighed, remembering all the reasons that he'd never, in any of his entire existence, liked bureaucracy. "What did they have to say about difficult Slayers?"
"That's where we come to the bad news. Apparently, if various methods to regain control fail, such as the use of family as leverage, drugs, or magical means, rebellious Slayers are. eliminated. The first effort is generally by sending them out against something with insufficient preparation or warning. if that fails, then. other means have been used," Wesley sounded unhappy, almost ashamed.
"They'll just. send their Slayers off to die?" Cordelia's outraged shriek summarized their feelings nicely.
Wesley looked at her, his eyes full of pain. "From their perspective, why not? One dies, another is Chosen. There will be a Slayer, and presumably, the new one will be more manageable. All quite despicable and neatly swept under the rug as 'fallen in the line of duty', and things continue according to the Council's plans."
"Are they trying to kill Faith now?" Angel's words were angry, harsh. Rage filled him at the idea that there were people arrogant enough to just condemn Faith to death because she wouldn't be their obedient tool and plaything. Deep inside, his demon whispered suggestions of tortures that he could practice on the Watcher's Council, pain and suffering. the sound of their screams.
Wesley shifted, glancing awkwardly away from Angel, a hint of fear creeping into his scent. "I. unfortunately, none of the people willing to offer me information were in a position to know that. I think we can assume so, but. I can't get any official verification."
"Right." Angel stood up, realizing that he was growling. "I'm going out on a patrol. I'm suddenly feeling the need for some violence."
The sound of the door slamming behind him was almost satisfying. But he was a bit worried. Faith was trying to stay on the side of good, didn't that count for something? It had to count, otherwise his own continued existence was equally meaningless. Was there anything that he could do to save her from the Council? He wished that he had someone to help find an answer. If only Willow could help, she could always come up with a plan.
~Part: 13~
Willow woke up, her teeth clenched in frustration, hands clenched into fists. She remembered her dreams, Angel going out, hunting dangerous things until the coming dawn had sent him darting into the building, bare moments ahead of the sunlight. He'd been furious about the discoveries that Wesley had made, furious that the Council would do such a thing. Not once had he doubted their responsibility, nor did she. It just. fit all to smoothly with the other things that they both knew of the Council doing.
She showered, her skin crawling with the memory of demon blood and vampire dust, her mouth fouled with remembered taste of blood she hadn't drank. A few Tylenol were an effort to ease the pain in her head, and she made her way to the kitchen, a feeble smile directed at Amy. Her friend was perched on the counter, a bowl of berries clutched possessively to her.
"I think I know who we need to get. The next person in our group. Faith." Willow's words felt awkward, as if she hadn't rested enough. Blearily, she pushed buttons on the coffee maker, hoping that she could compensate for missing rest with caffeine.
"Didn't she go bad?" Amy frowned, obviously remembering the short version of the last three years.
"We think she's getting better. But the Council of Watchers are trying to kill her, and that's not right." Willow leaned against the counter, trying to figure out what sort of food she should have. Her stomach felt almost full, but that couldn't be right.
"We don't like the Council?" Amy spooned a strawberry into her mouth, one foot swinging against the cabinet door.
Willow managed a weak smile as she agreed. "We don't like the Council. Besides, if Faith causes too much trouble, we should be able to take care of her."
"So. what do we do about her?" Amy watched Willow, as if there was nothing more fascinating. "Just ask the prison to let her go?"
"That wouldn't work. We need to do something a bit less polite and a bit more sneaky." Willow sighed, part of her thinking about all the possible methods of attempted jail-break that's he'd heard about. Her mind turned over hidden cameras, guard patrols, laundry chutes. "Wait, we're witches. We can come up with something smarter, not harder."
"You have a plan?" Amy looked curious. "Because I really don't think we could tunnel her out, and would she go with us if I ratted her? Could we un-rat her?"
"Faith the Rat." Willow snickered, amused by the image. "No. I don't think we should turn her into a rat. I was actually thinking more like a deep sleep spell. See. someone wants her dead. If they think it worked, if they think Faith's dead, why would they keep a body in the prison? We can make them think she's dead, the Council is happy for a while, the prison officials get her out for us, we collect her, and leave."
"Sounds great, wonderful. How do we pull it off?" Amy swallowed another strawberry, licking the juice from her fingers.
"Well, we. umm. I don't know yet." Willow faltered, uncertain of the precise sort of spell they would need.
"Giles books?" Amy's smile held amusement. "Maybe we can bump into Spike again."
"You know that you're lusting after the undead, right?" Willow glanced at Amy, pouring the long awaited coffee into her mug.
"Yeah, but. look at him. And aren't vampires supposed to have. stamina?" Amy's grin was downright wicked.
"I do no want to go there." Willow sighed, drinking her coffee. "So, let's go sneak into the magic books to find a way to spring our maybe friend the Slayer from the pokey."
"No class today?" Amy looked over, eyes bright with so many things.
Willow looked over, wondering exactly what Amy was so curious about. "Well. not until two."
~Part: 14~
They entered through the back, slipping through the shipping door, and into the receiving area without alerting Anya. They could hear voices in the research area - Buffy, Tara and Xander. There seemed to be some sort of argument going. Buffy was saying that something bad was coming, some sort of 'freaky portent of doom' dreams setting her on edge. Tara almost sounded as if she was convinced that Willow would have some involvement with this impending danger, although they'd missed it if there was something to determine if Willow was supposed to know about this possible link of not. Was Tara worried about her ex girlfriend's safety, or afraid that Willow would become the next threat? Xander was trying to defend her, insisting that Willow would never turn against them like that.
Silently, Willow and Amy crept into the shelves that held the volumes on demons and magic, pulling a few likely volumes before slipping into Giles' office to leaf through them.
"At least you know Xander hasn't given up on you." Amy's hopeful words weren't quite enough to sooth the pain of the overheard argument.
"Not entirely, anyhow. Yay for that much." For a moment, Willow's vision blurred, before she blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.
For a while, there was only the soft sound of turning pages, and the muffled sounds of Buffy, Tara and Xander arguing. Willow felt a sense of urgency about their task. How long before Faith's luck ran out? How long before the Council managed to kill Faith not for her crimes, but for the fact that she wasn't their pawn any longer?
"I found something. If we can manage it. It's powerful. and takes power to cast." Amy sounded oddly somber, her voice barely over a whisper.
Looking at Amy's worried eyes, Willow pulled out a notebook. "What did you find?"
"It will wrap her in a bubble of time. Hold her in a moment. anyone would think that she was dead. But it's a demanding spell. not the ritual, but the power it takes." Amy turned the book, holding it out to Willow.
Skimming over the lines, Willow nodded. "I think this would work. I think we can do it. And I have the feeling that Faith doesn't have a lot of time left."
"Willow?" Amy's voice sounded small and timid. "I hope that you're wrong. I hope she has time, that we all have time."
Almost, Willow managed to smile. "Yeah. that would be nice."
~Part: 15~
"Now, I think Amy should hold the spell while Willow goes with me to collect Faith." Whistler's voice was a bit odd sounding, sharper and higher, almost like wind shaped into words. His eyes had gone pale, like a film of milk poured over something dark, and sweat dotted his brow.
Amy looked nervous, but nodded. "Right. I think I can do that. Sort of a balancing act."
Willow looked at him, feeling as if her bones had turned to mush. "Go with you to get her? As in. get up and move? Not asking for the simple stuff, are you?"
He laughed, walking over to the circle, holding his hand towards her. "I'll help you up, Red."
Willow gave a tiny smile, taking his hand. She felt as if she was suddenly far heavier than she should be, and swayed a bit as he helped her to her feet. "You're driving. Or whatever. I don't think I can."
"You of little faith. Of course I got a car. But we're taking something faster." He laughed, still looking far less human than normal. Willow wondered if he'd even realized it.
Willow sighed, leaning heavily against him. "Whatever you say. Just lead on."
Willow felt like the world suddenly twisted and spun, like one of those dramatic scene changes in the old Bat-Man series. Her stomach protested weakly, and she closed her eyes, trying to keep from toppling to the floor. at least, where the floor felt like it should be. "Urrghhhhh."
"Here we are. And here they come, right on schedule." He sounded almost human again.
Cracking her eyes open, Willow discovered that they were standing in a morgue. The air felt cold, and she shivered. "They're bringing her here? They won't. they wouldn't start an autopsy, would they?"
"Not at this hour. We got time." He looked almost entirely relaxed.
Willow nodded, deciding that it wasn't worth arguing. She leaned against the rows of drawers, determinedly not thinking about what might be behind the doors. "Okay. I'll just. wait."
Willow wasn't certain how long they waited. All she knew was that she felt better, her stomach calm, her bones normal again. She wouldn't want to get into any fights, but she would be fully capable of running away if need be.
"Here they are. I was starting to think they'd got lost." Whistler's voice seemed very loud in the quiet of the morgue. "Hold still now, and they won't see us."
Willow looked at him, wondering if he'd just lost his mind. She was about to ask, but came to the conclusion that maybe she didn't want to know. Pressing her lips back together, she turned away, looking at the door. She could hear footsteps shuffling towards them, and then the door opened.
Two men came in, carrying a body bag between them. They stopped in the middle of the room while the one farthest from the door fumbled at one of the morgue drawers, finally pulling out a shelf. The put the bag on it, and pushed it mostly shut, leaving the room afterwards.
"It's a shame. She was pretty good looking." One of them spoke, the sound of his hands brushing together carrying in the quiet before the door shut.
Willow walked over to the drawer, pulling it back out. Her hands were shaking as she found the zipper, pulling it open to reveal Faith, still dressed in the ugly orange prison clothing. Bruises were over her arms, and over her left eyes. She looked pale and still. "She looks dead. that's creepy."
"I thought that was your whole plan?" He sounded just a little mocking.
"Well, yeah, that was the plan. But it still looks creepy." Willow looked at him, her hand resting on Faith's shoulder. "Are you going to do that twisty thing and take us back now?"
Pulling his hat from behind him, he put it on his head, nearly obscuring his eyes. "Hang on to your bustle, sweetheart."
The world spun into itself again, colors bleeding together as reality twisted. Willow felt herself falling, uncertain where she would land. As it turned out, she landed hard, half collapsed on the floor of the hall, Faith on the couch beside her.
Amy looked very pale, curled on a chair. "Goody. I can let the spell go."
Willow nodded, not quite certain if she dared open her mouth to speak. Now, they just had to hope Faith didn't cause any major problems.
~Part: 16~
Willow and Amy were slightly surprised that Faith was still asleep when they woke. The spell had exhausted them, and the pair had both collapsed into slumber while trying to wait for Faith to wake up. Faith hadn't woke, but she'd moved a bit in her sleep, now being curled on her side instead of flat on her back. The bruises had faded as well. Maybe Faith had been as desperately in need of sleep as they had.
"She doesn't look dangerous." Amy's comment was soft, as if she was afraid to wake the sleeping slayer.
"You can't always judge by appearances. She can bend steel bars with her bare hands. well, thin ones anyhow. She knows more ways to commit violence that both of us put together. Angel thinks that she wants to be good again. I hope that he's right." Willow looked at Faith, wondering what sort of life the dark haired Slayer had before she was called. "I hope things go better for her."
They started practicing their magic, staying with simple things. Illusions, both of making things seem to appear that weren't there and hiding things that were. It was something that required more control, focus and a clear mental image than power, so they could practice for a while without growing tired. Willow had just cast an illusion of a waterfall over the fire place, the water even making the tinkling splashes and gurgles. It was a little translucent, but a very good effort.
"when did this place get a waterfall?" The words were blurred by recent sleep, but they could only have come from Faith.
Amy squeaked, her illusion of a deer wavering before dissolving into multicolored gold and brown sparkles. "Awake! Umm. ahh... Why don't I get us some lemonade?"
Willow walked over, sitting in the chair across from Faith. She wasn't quite certain how she felt about Faith, and now was the time to start figuring it out. "Faith. The waterfall? Just interior decorating. We haven't told Angel. It still needs a lot of work, but. maybe you'll like it here a bit better than in prison where someone was trying to kill you? You're officially dead, by the way."
"If I'm dead. this doesn't look like hell. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be my reception committee." Faith's words came slowly, as she sat upright, a careful stretch of her muscles offering punctuation.
"Officially dead, not really dead. You were checked into the morgue and everything." Willow paused, still unsure of much beyond Faith didn't deserve to be killed by the Watchers. "We arranged your apparent demise and smuggled you out of the morgue."
"Not that I'm complaining but. why?" Faith looked around, her eyes trying to take in everything about her surroundings. "Back in Sunnydale."
"I found out some of what was happening. Someone was trying to kill you, most likely the Council of Watchers. I don't like the Watchers, so. apart from the fact that it would be wrong to cut your second chance short, it will play games with the Council's minds, which is a plus. And this guy said you were needed alive, so." Willow shrugged. "Consider this your one 'get out of Jail Free' card."
"B agreed to that?" Faith ran her fingers through her hair, as if trying to get rid of tangles, or maybe to control her thoughts.
"Lemonade?" Amy came back, trying to stay calm in the midst of the tension.
"Buffy doesn't know. Not that you're out of jail, not that you're here. Best that it stays that way. Amy and I pulled it off, with help from someone else, he'll probably be in eventually. We can offer a shower, a softer bed, and nobody currently trying to kill you, for as long as you play by our rules." Willow looked at Faith, trying to impress the seriousness of the situation onto the Slayer. Faith had seemed so flamboyantly exuberant before, and then enthusiastically violent that it was hard to predict her behavior.
"So. how is she lately? I thought. wasn't she supposed to be dead?" Faith held the glass of lemonade, not quite looking at Willow or Amy.
"She was. She got better." Amy gave the extremely short summary. "We don't like her right now."
Willow gave Amy this look of exasperation. "That's. a bit shorter than Faith was probably looking for. Buffy was dead. I brought her back. She's. been a bit different since then. We aren't spending as much time with her anymore for an assortment of reasons."
"So you just moved into Angel's place. How'd you plan to keep B from noticing?" Faith shook her head, looking somewhere between surprised and exasperated.
"Simple. We aren't telling her where we are. And Angel isn't here to object." Willow smiled, wondering how different things would have been if she'd had the courage to talk more to Faith when she'd first arrived.
"We were thinking about seeing how long it took her to notice where we're living now." Amy smiled, looking quite amused.
"How come I didn't meet her before? I think I like her opinion of B." Faith had a small smile. "And you mentioned a shower? With. hot water?"
"You didn't meet her before because she was a rat. Long story involving a demon and a magic spell. I made her human again. And yes, a hot shower, with several choices of shampoo, scented soap, and privacy." Willow smiled, feeling almost as if. as if she wanted to get along with Faith. Wanted to give her a second chance with everything.
"Sounds almost like heaven right now. And a room?" Faith wobbled a bit as she stood up. "Maybe some food. seems like dying makes me hungry."
"Amy, you lead her to the shower and her room. I'll get some food ready." Willow tried not to laugh at Faith's expression She just looked so excited about a hot shower. Almost like Amy had, actually.
"Red, you're wonderful. And right about now, I'm really glad that I didn't kill you in Dick's office. Umm. sorry about that, you know." Faith's eyes almost glowed with enthusiasm.
Giving Faith an odd look, Willow smiled hesitantly. "Apology accepted. Go, shower. It'll make you feel better."
~Part: 17~
Willow sighed, collapsing back into the chair. Faith. She knew things wouldn't be that simple. One 'sorry I tried to kill you, thanks for not letting me get killed' didn't erase everything. But. if Faith was really needed, then she'd probably be staying around for a while. And I t hadn't been right what the Council was trying to do anyhow, so it was good to have stopped them. But now, that meant she'd be dealing with Faith every day, which would be the hard part.
Was this a new start? Sort of, but with shadows of the past. How could they work around those shadows? She would have to come to terms with everything that Faith had done before. at least, the parts that had affected Willow's life. Willow shook her head as she made her way to the kitchen. She had the suspicion that getting Faith would be the easy part, compared to living with her.
She put together a meal, only part of her mind focused on the food. The rest was thinking about the mess of issues relating to Faith, the magical practice, the disintegrating bonds with the Scooby gang, and Angel. It was a small miracle that she didn't burn the food.
She ended up in the room made ready for Faith, herself and Amy curled in chars, Faith perched on the bed in a loose fitting spare nightgown that had been left in the mansion. Willow had a faint suspicion that it had once been Drusilla's. Faith had looked almost ready to purr from the shower and nightgown, and had looked so delighted by the food that it had been. well, it had almost made Willow feel guilty over being uncertain she wanted Faith here. Almost, but not quite.
Faith had devoured her food, although she'd been fairly neat abut it, not spilling onto the bed or the nightgown. "So, what is going on here, anyhow? I mean, you said Amy was a rat last time I was around, Wolf boy's gone, and what about what's her name you were hanging out with. umm. last year? I feel so out of date."
Amy giggled. "We traded Angel for a hottie with gorgeous cheekbones. I wanted to keep him, but Willow said no vampnapping. And Xander's dating an ex-demon. Did you know that Buffy has a sister?"
Fath blinked, apparently trying to make sense of those words. "B doesn't have a sister. except. wait a minute, what's the deal with Dawn? Why do I sort of remember someone that can't be real?"
Willow smiled, glad to know that the spell did influence people who should remember Dawn if she'd always been there that came into the area. She'd assumed that the monks would have thrown something like that in if they were being clever. "The short version is that Dawn didn't exist yet in my senior year. Dawn was in danger from a really big bad, and the monks that were guarding her. they sort of altered reality to make her Buffy's sister. That way, Buffy would protect Dawn as well as the Monks trying to keep her hidden It didn't work for long, and there was a whole lot of unpleasant things. But Dawn is Buffy's sister now. There's a spell on her to make all the people around her think and remember things as if she was always there."
"That's the short version? Damn, I missed some interesting stuff. So, how's B doing with her soldier?" Faith looked thoughtful.
"Riley. isn't here anymore. He and Buffy had some problems, and... he sort of left to join a demon hunting group in South America." Willow sighed, pondering everyone's lives over the past couple years. "And I'm not. not with Tara now. She. we had problems, but not quite the same sort."
"I've just been hanging out in prison. With the recent change of demons trying to kill me after dark. Nobody's been to visit but Angel and Wesley. I think I'm a disappointment to him. Wes only came by once." Faith sighed, putting the plate on the small dresser beside the bed.
Amy looked up, a small frown on her face. "Do we like Wesley?"
"What? I don't. that's. he's just my Watcher." Faith looked surprised and defensive and almost indignant all at once.
Willow almost managed not to laugh. "Wesley doesn't work for the Council anymore. He's in LaLa. um, LA with Angel. We don't dislike him for being a Watcher anymore. And he's grown up a lot since he left Sunnydale. He even goes out fighting demons on a regular basis."
"You almost called it Lala Land, didn't you?" Faith snickered, seeming to find that very amusing.
"That's Amy's fault." Willow smiled.
"Sure, blame the girl who's spent the last three years as a rat. I see how you are." Amy sniffed, trying to look offended. "Even if it is my fault. but really, it's just. Lala Land fits the place."
"Does this mean. is everything five by five with us?" Faith looked more serious now, here eyes full of intensity.
"Fine with me. I think I missed out on most of your stuff anyhow." Amy shrugged, apparently unworried.
"No. Everything's not all good and happy. We still have issues. But this is bigger. There's something going on that the Powers think we're needed for. So I'm willing to try, but everything's not okay. That will take time and effort from both of us." Willow felt her emotions rising, felt them trying to choke her.
Faith frowned, biting her lip a little. The expression made her look younger, somehow. "Well, that's. honest at least. But you're willing to try. Better than I'd expected, actually."
"A second chance. And a chance to do something important, which we aren't sure what is just yet because cryptic guy - no, not Angel - hasn't told us." Willow sighed, stabbing at a stray carrot.
"Still with the helping thing, aren't you?" Faith smiled a bit, looking at Willow. "Do you ever just. skip out and do something selfish?"
"I put Tara's mind back together because I wanted my girlfriend back. Now. she's gone anyhow. Not dead, just. not my girlfriend. And let's not forget the whole Xander smoochies kidnapping and impalement debacle - or actually, let's forget it." Willow looked at her fingers, wishing that things could go a bit better. Was it too much to ask for someone that wouldn't abandon her? "Any time I try selfish, it blows up in my face."
"You used to be the computer geek, I'm surprised you haven't tried to find a nice guy. girl. someone on line." Faith looked at Willow, her face showing that she had a number of thoughts.
Wincing, Willow floated her plate over to join Faith's. "I did. It almost got me killed. Quick tip for safety - Never ever scan the Watcher books in foreign languages into the computer. Not unless you know for a fact that it's safe. We. it was a bad thing that none of us will forget. Also before you came to town."
"No wonder you don't pull a lot of selfish things. It keeps getting you screwed over." Faith's words didn't sound hostile, merely an unhappy realization.
"Basically." Willow rested her head on her knee, wishing that maybe just once. She had a few ideas on something that she'd like to do, but. really, 'something selfish' didn't generally include intense sex with certain brooding hunks who's house she'd sort of appropriated. Tempting as the idea might be.
"She even got in trouble for making me human again. Dawn thought we were. but we aren't having an affair." Amy shook her head. "I'd rather have Spike than Willow any day or night."
Faith just laughed, and gradually, Willow and Amy joined in. Things might not be all perfect, but they had the potential to improve.
~Part: 18~
Giles sighed, placing his glasses on the volume of Greek prophecy. One hand reached for his teacup, the other gently rubbed at his eyes. His eyes ached from spending hours searching through these books. What was even more frustrating was that he had no idea how to explain why he felt this prophecy was so important. How would he be able to convince the others to help research a prophecy when not only could he not prove that it was even connected to them, but had no logical explanation why it was important at all?
Something nagged at his memory. Willow had offered to help him the other day, when he'd been sitting with a large pile of books. He'd refused, partly out of the concern that Tara may have been correct in her claims that Willow was having magic problems, and partly because he wanted to make certain Amy had all the help that she needed to re adjust to being human. But he hadn't explained why, simply refused her aid.
Had anyone seen Willow since then? He didn't recall her being in the store, and there hadn't been any large gatherings at his house. Not that he had any objections to that. But surely, someone had seen her in the past few days? Buffy, perhaps? Possibly Xander, the two of them had been friends for far longer than he'd known them, or. yes, certainly Tara had seen her girlfriend recently.
He walked out to the public area of the shop, noticing Xander, Buffy and Dawn were restocking the shelves while Anya was doing something at the cash register. A few customers browsed the books, and a young man was looking at the sticks of incense. Hmm, best not mention anything questionable. Giles walked towards Buffy and Xander, testing out questions as he moved.
"Have either of you seen Willow or Amy lately? There's something I wanted to ask her about my computer. it's been beeping at me."
Buffy laughed, a show of amusement that would have sent him almost dancing with joy last week. "No, I haven't seen the pair of them. Willow said something about her mom worrying about the house. I'm sure she's just avoiding us ever since Dawn called her on her cheating ways."
"What?" Giles blinked, for a moment hoping that he'd heard Buffy wrong. Her words just didn't seem to make any sense, although he did recall Willow saying something about her parent's house.
Xander scowled at Buffy, his expression one of annoyance. "Willow and Amy both promised that they weren't. And I believe in Willow. I've been fairly busy, but I'd figured someone had talked to her lately. especially since she and Tara split up. I mean, if nothing else, we don't want any repeats of when Oz left."
"Nobody has spoken to Willow in the past few days? Why did she and Tara part ways? Are you certain that she's alright?" Giles felt a sense of disappointment bubble up inside. Buffy had changed so much since. well, since her death in the spring. She didn't seem to care anymore.
Xander looked at him, the young man's eyes showing far more worry than his words revealed. "Why don't I go check her parent' place? Maybe we're just all too worried about her because of her break up."
"Yes, good. I'll go check with Anya." Giles made his way to the register, smiling a bit at Anya. She'd made astonishing strides in adjusting to her humanity, and while she was still a bit eccentric, he was starting to conclude that that was an aspect of Anya, not her former demon-ness showing. "Have you seen either Willow or Amy lately?"
Anya looked up, her eyes momentarily blank as she considered his question. "Not since the day that assured me they weren't giving each other orgasms. Amy did hint that Buffy had an orgasm friend, but they haven't come back. You'd think a pair of witches would be in to buy things, but they've been pretty scarce."
"And nobody's been worried?" Giles tried to keep his temper.
"You're not just worried because of Sunnydale. Something else is making you cranky. Do we need to find you a new orgasm friend?" Anya looked at him, a small smile on her lips.
"A new... Anya, please attempt to focus on the problem, not on everyone sexual activities" He sighed, remembering with something near wistfulness the days of solitude at the British Museum. "There's something I've been researching that has me uneasy. And the computer has been beeping."
"There's online ways to find orgasm friends. I've heard all about those, and met a few clients that way... Maybe I can help you with this headache later?" Anya looked worried.
"Hmmm. Finish this first." He walked back to his stack of books, wondering if there was indeed something wrong, or if his nightmares were nothing more than the fears and worries of a man who had seen far too many horrible things.
Returning to the stack of books, he pulled out the notebook where he'd been jotting down the dreams. Visions of the Hellmouth, and of a tree standing over it, with graceful branches covered with dark green leaves and stunning red flowers that smelled like spiced pears. Images of trees withering and the sky turning dark, the sun going from burning gold to a dull gleaming coin that hung in the sky. Images of vampires returning to plague them, Drusilla, Angelus, Spike without his chip. Visions of Buffy and the others who had become the closest that he had to children broken and bloody on the ground.
"You do realize that those Greek fragments aren't meaning a literal tree, right?"
Anya's voice interrupted his catalog of nightmares. Looking up, Giles sighed. "I'd gathered as mush, especially since we've sent he Hellmouth, and there is no tree over it. But the verses have been troubling me, and there have been dreams. Very troubling dreams."
"Are they prophetic or just nightmares?" Anya looked over, her face showing concern.
"I know that they aren't a literal glimpse of the future. But I fear that they may be a message that there is trouble ahead, a sign that the prophecy is important." He picked up his cup, swallowing a mouthful of lukewarm tea.
"In other words, they're upsetting and confusing you, and you want to share the worry until we know if it's going to be dangerous or not?" Anya summarized.
"Essentially, yes." He looked at her, trying to read her reactions.
"Times like this make me hate being mortal. I can help after the store closes, we still have three hours to sell things and make money. I'll come back then." Offering that gesture of support, Anya returned to the front register, leaving Giles to his worries and books.
~Part: 19~
Giles was still looking at the various bits of verse when Xander slipped into the room, his face pale, eyes filled with worry. "Nobody's at her parent's place. Doesn't look like anyone's been staying there either."
Blinking, Giles looked up. It took him a few moments to figure out what Xander had meant, his mind so full of words about trees, branches, mouths and protection. "Willow, not the tree. But if she isn't at her parent's house, where is she?"
"Umm, what about a tree?" Xander looked a bit confused.
"There's this. well, I think they're bits of a prophecy. Unfortunately, I'm not certain what it refers to or precisely what it's importance is. But they make it clear that the Tree must be kept safe, it must not fall." He glared at the books, almost offended by their confusion.
"Right now, the only tree I'm worried about keeping safe is Willow. Yeah, she might not be a literal tree, but she's my friend, and you have no idea how many times I would have fallen into shame and failure without her. I'm going to go keep looking, check back with you later, Book Man." Xander gave a small gesture that could have been a wave, and left the room, looking determined, worried and maybe a little bit guilty.
Giles was left sitting there, staring at the place where Xander had been. In his mind, he turned over Xander's words, the corners that had still been pondering the prophecy teasing out a speculative question. 'Could it refer to a person named for a tree?"
Anya came back a while later, her expression solemn. "Those prophecies are sort of creepy. D'Hoffryn almost recruited that guy once, or so I've heard. Apparently, he was never wrong, just so bizarre that it was hard to decipher him. Something about uncontrollable visions of doom, demons, and possible endings for the world?"
"Never wrong?" Giles sighed, resisting the urge to beat himself over the head with the book. "Just bloody wonderful. That does at least support the idea that it's important. Now, to get some smattering of meaning from it. Xander was in briefly, he said that nobody was at the Rosenberg house. But. he did say something hat had me wondering if the tree could refer to a person."
"Well, the name Daphne comes from the Geek word for the Laurel tree, and we've got Rowan, and Cherry, and there was this woman in Mississippi once named Magnolia that had me place a curse on someone." Anya had the smile of gleeful memory.
"Or possibly even Willow." Giles looked back at the books, even more worried than before. It was never healthy to be involved in a prophecy. They were never about. say, a former museum curator finding a wonderful woman to settle down and raise a family with, or brave people saving the world and finding someone to love them. No, they were always about the end of the world and demons trying to gain power.
~~~*~~~
Wesley was pacing, muttering foul words under his breath. Anatomically impossible acts and descriptions of excruciatingly painful and messy deaths flowed from his lips with an intensity that had Cordelia backing away slowly. She bumped into Angel, her worry and confusion so complete that she didn't see him. Her startled near scream caused him to smile just a little.
"Cordelia. it's alright." He'd had a small smile, mostly from amusement at her fear. If he'd wanted to hurt her, she would be falling to the floor with a broken neck before she'd even had time to scream.
"Don't. What happened? Is he possessed?" Cordelia's nervous words left Angel in confusion.
"I. have no idea. Wesley? What's got you planning torture?" He moved closer, wondering why Wesley was so intensely angry.
Wesley glared at Angel, barely slowing down in his pacing. He continued crossing the lobby, muttering foul and painful things to perform upon the Council. "I got a call from the prison today. Stupid bloody fools. should rip their toenails out with pincers and burn the bleeding to a halt. Faith collapsed and was found to have no pulse last night. Peel their skin off like the skin of a bloody orange. oranges... no, lemons. I could squirt lemon juice on after that.. They sent her body to the morgue."
"Graphic. Did you want to find out what's happening next? I think. I think I need to go make a phone call." Angel left the room, frowning as he remembered his dream. Willow had been talking to Whistler. That in itself had been odd, but. they'd somehow gone to a morgue and stolen Faith's body. It had seemed entirely bizarre and inexplicable, but. What if the various dreams that he'd been having were real? If he was really seeing what Willow did and saw? Shuddering, he acknowledged that this would mean that Spike and Buffy were indeed... ick. If the dream was real, then Willow had faked Faith's death and she was alright.
But he didn't want to get Wesley's hopes up until he knew the truth. As upset as Wesley seemed, it was obvious that he cared about Faith. If the dreams were correct, then they would be at the mansion. He picked up the cell phone that Cordelia had bought him, and began dialing.
He wasn't surprised at all when it began to ring.
~Part: 20~
Willow picked up the phone, at once surprised and not surprised that it was ringing. It was far too late for a telemarketer, wasn't it? "Hello?"
:Willow. Have you made yourself comfortable at my place?: Angel's voice had so many different notes in it, worry, relief, pleasure, smugness.
"Angel? You. well, yes. Yes, Amy and I have made this place look a lot less dusty. It fit our needs, and you aren't here anymore to be staying in it." Willow tried not to babble, her fingers twisting around the cord that connected the handset to the wall unit.
:That's alright, Willow. I was calling. well, I've been having some dreams about you. Do. this is going to sound crazy. Did you steal Faith from the morgue?: Angel's voice had gone quiet.
Willow gasped, feeling shaken. How had Angel known about that? It was impossible, unless. but he'd said that he'd been having the dreams. "Yeah. Why are we. why are we dreaming each other's lives? Faith's pretty sure that she's a disappointment to Wesley. But she really felt better because of your visits, she said they helped a lot. Wit the guilt and redemption thing and all that. We... that is, Amy and Whistler and I figured that Faith could stay here, there's a lot of room. And now that the Council thinks that she's dead, they won't be trying to kill her."
:What did you do, Willow?: Angel's question was demanding.
Willow sighed, sitting on the counter, looking at the floor, not that Angel would be able to see it. "Whistler promised to teach me and Amy real magic, with control. And. I dreamed and learned from you and Wesley that Faith was in trouble, and that just didn't seem right. She deserves more than to be offed because of the council being a bunch of interfering bastards, you know? So, we sort of cast a spell that froze time around Faith so that she looked dead, but she wasn't really and then Whistler popped us over and we pulled her out and brought her back here."
:Ummm..: Angel sounded a bit bemused. :Isn't that a complicated spell?:
"We were really careful." Willow knew that as a defense went, it was feeble bordering on tissue thin.
:Willow! You're messing with magic! Really careful might not be enough to keep you safe! It could get you killed or worse.: Angel sounded worried and a bit angry. :I would hate for anything bad to happen to you, Willow. And I'm sorry about you and Tara.:
Willow was amazed. How had Angel known? But then, if he was dreaming about her life the way she was dreaming his, he would know. "How long have you been dreaming about my life, Angel?"
:Changing the subject? Oh, fine, I suppose you would know the risks. I suppose. since I got back from my vacation. From where Buffy sent me. I. They were there when I was thinking clearly again, and they didn't feel exactly new, so I guess. I'm not sure how long. Or how they would have started.: Angel sounded far less unhappy then when he'd first called.
"It must have been your soul." Willow didn't even realize that the words were out loud until she heard Angel gasp.
:My soul? But. you cast the spell? Willow. you shouldn't have taken that sort of risk.:
"Nobody forced me to cast it, Angel. It was my choice. But, yeah, we knew it was dangerous, and we were careful. Whistler even anchored for us. Should we expect you and Wesley to show up here?" Willow could feel herself smiling just a bit. Angel here. Angel in the shower. Angel on the deep green silk sheets of her bed. mmm.
:...think that he will definitely want to come check on her. You didn't see how upset he was, Willow. It was. well, he was wanting to do some rather graphic and painful things to the members of the Council for their hand in the attempts on Faith.: Angel had started talking, and Willow had been so busy imagining him naked that she'd missed part of what he'd said.
"I'll make sure there are rooms ready for you and Wesley. Do you want me to tell her that you two will be here?" Willow smiled just a bit. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice her lapse in attention.
:Not Faith, if you can help it. If she thinks. there are issues between her and Wesley. It might be best if they are in the same place so they can talk about those issues, maybe even solve some of them.: Angel had to be smiling, from the sound of his voice.
"Right. Amy and I can get everything arranged. Just. well, as a tiny warning, Amy's lusting after Spike. I told her it wasn't wise, but. hey, when has wisdom ever had a chance against a forbidden attraction in this town?" Willow tried to cover her own forbidden attraction with a joke. She couldn't have Angel. Apart from it being bad form to go out with your friend's ex, there was that clause. wasn't there?
:Wisdom doesn't work very well on who you want. Just how likely it is to get them. I'm very aware of that one. I just hope that. well, I hope some of my problems here don't follow me there. Sunnydale has enough trouble without any coming to visit.: Angel laughed a little, but was it a bit forced?
Willow was still trying to analyze that as she hung up the phone. Angel had been dreaming of her life the same way that's he'd been dreaming his. Had he simply thought that it was some weird effect of stress? Had he even considered that it was real? It sounded like he'd not thought about that, whether deliberately or because he'd been so busy with everything else. But for three years? Maybe he hadn't been certain how to say anything about it? Heavens knows that she hadn't known how to say anything.
Maybe he'd found the dreams comforting, like she'd found them. Maybe it had soothed him to dream about a life in the sunlight, about eating foods. oh no, had Angel dreamed about her and Tara. together? The very idea made her turn crimson, her cheeks burning. She had the sinking feeling that he probably had, at least once. And it wouldn't work to go hide from embarrassment either.