pairings: some Buffy/Spike and Willow/Tara but this will change.
disclaimer: I own nobody from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. plot in response to a challenge from Vaberella, hope you like my twist on it.
Set in season 6, will rapidly become Au. Willow brought Buffy back from the dead. Buffy and Spike are shagging.
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~Prologue~
Rupert Giles sighed, one thumb rubbing at his temple. Sometimes, being a Watcher could be incredibly dull, and this was one of those occasions. There was no current crisis that they were aware of, no immenant master plan, no would be Master that had come to their attention, no impending apocalypse to avert.
Which was why he was sitting in the library, searching through old volumes of obscure prophecy. The simple fact that there was no crisis today didn't mean there wouldn't be one soon. Wouldn't it be better to have some warning, some idea how to prepare for it? Or perhaps to have a guideline for solving a problem when it did show up.
He opened another book, flipping it to a section near the middle, just to try a bit of variety. There was a photograph of a fragment of old pottery, Greek Archaic period if he wasn't mistaken, the dark shape of a tree, branches curling around and down in a way that suggested it had been painted on the bottom of a bowl. It was a bit pretty, actually. Certainly not the sort of thing he expected to see near an old... well, it looked like part of a song.
Behold the Tree! Over the Mouth of the Underworld it flourishesLooking at the verses, Giles almost expected it to continue into the tale of some Greek hero battling dark forces, attempting to win honor, renown, and marriage to a wealthy princess. But it didn't. There were careful notes, translated from the writings of long ago Watchers that claimed the author of that particular set of verses had some renown in the area as a prophet. That the odd man had been making verses about Guardians of the Mouth to the Underworld, not for interesting songs, but 'to get the visions from my mind'.
No Storm or Trial has broken it's Mighty Boughs
No Tribulation or Test has stripped the Flowers from it's branches
Beneath the branches of the Tree is Light mingled with Dark
Eternal Twilight reigns, neither Light nor Dark in Pure Form
Protect the Tree, let not it's Support Crumble
For none that are Granted Shelter beneath it's Branches shall Fall.
Some later speculation had been that he spoke of a Hellmouth, or some sort of portal to another realm, one of the Hell Dimensions. With a sigh, Giles looked over it again, confident that if he didn't, it would become a matter of great importance. That was how things generally worked over the Hellmouth.
There was another section that spoke of the Tree, and this one seemed a bit more ominous. It sounded as if the Tree gave power to it's guardians, that they were stronger simply because they protected this tree. But that protection wasn't automatic, nor was it permanant. Especially troubling was the idea that forces of Darkness could gain control of this powerful tree.
Deny not the Support of the Tree of FlowersHe sighed once more, sipping at the cold tea in his cup. He had a niggling feeling that these two fragments of verse were linked, that they spoke of the same Tree. He also suspected that the Tree was symbolic, and they weren't looking for a large growing plant, possibly with flowers. No, it wouldn't be that simple. Things were never that simple.
For even it's Mighty Boughs can not stand Alone
Let not it stand Unguarded, least Shelter be Denied
For if the Guardians of the Tree Fail,
Then Others shall Gain it's Protection and Strength
Betrayed and Abandoned, the Tree Will Become
New Guardians to Call from Shadows of Darkness
The Support of the Tree Gives Power
If the Tree is not Protected by the Forces of Light
Darkness shall Claim, and Enshadow the Tree
The Tree's Chosen Protector will not be Defeated.
The good news was that this Tree was some sort of defense. If it was protected by the forces of Light, that meant it was a thing or person of good, and therefore, should they find it, their role would be... well, to protect it. He shook his head, appalled at the circular pattern of his thoughts.
"Lord, I need to go home and get some rest. I'm thinking in circles... next I'll be pondering why Americans still claim that they speak English..." He carefully marked both sections with bits of green ribbon, closing the books and putting them inside his office.
It certainly didn't help that whoever had translated the verses had capitolized words by whim, not following any sort of pattern or rule that he could determine. Symbols everywhere, bizarre capitalization, sentance structure... He could understand why it was frustrating to work with prophecies.
~Part: 1~
Willow stood by the window, eyes unfocused as she faced the outside. She didn't see the pretty lawn, didn't see the small children playing across the street. Her eyes blinked occasionally, feeling itchy with tears that she was trying not to shed. It hurt to breath, from the pain inside. She'd fought with Tara, again.
Tara had tried to say that she was using too much magic, that she ran the risk of becoming addicted. That the magic was controlling her, not the other way around. She'd tried to convince her otherwise, to say that it wasn't like that, that she wasn't addicted, that she wasn't abusing the power. Tara had claimed that all addicts denied the problem existed at first. And the look in her eyes, it had been so cold, so angry...
How could the person that she loved doubt her like that? How could Tara say such things if she loved Willow? How could she face the rest of them, wondering if they agreed with Tara, if they were watching her for some artificial dependance, a secret urge to use magic for everything... It hurt to wonder if everyone else doubted her as well.
They hadn't been worried about addiction when she'd resurrected Buffy. Then, it had been 'we need Buffy' and 'we can't handle this without a Slayer' and 'we can't do this without you, Wills'. They'd wanted Buffy back so badly...
Had they wanted her back badly enough to ask Willow to do something that frightened them? Hads they asked her to do things, perform a ritual that they all despised just to get Buffy back? What were they willing to sacrifice to get back their Slayer?
But they didn't have their Buffy back. They had someone that looked like Buffy, and she was definitely a Slayer, but... it wasn't the same. She wasn't the same person anymore. This Slayer was so cold, so distant. The only person that she'd let have any idea what was going on inside was Spike. That hurt almost as badly as Tara's words...
She stood there, unmoving, a part of her mind taking idle note of the shadows changing their angles as the hours passed. It wasn't important enough to move. It was the voices that brought her attention back to the physical world instead of her own tangled emotions. Familiar voices, echoing from the shaded porch.
"...don't know why you insisted on coming anyhow. It's still daylight outside, you could get burned." Buffy's voice, showing hints of worry, traces of anger. More emotion that she'd used in a week of talking or not talking to Willow.
"I missed you." There was a sound of fabric moving, sweeping over the porch. "Maybe someone can help you."
"Help me? Who could I talk to about THIS? Who would even believe me? How would I even begin? 'Well, I'm having some problems right now... oh, they started when I made a swan dive off a construction set and died. Then I got dragged out of heaven to come back here until I die again...' God, Spike, I can't tell anyone that. Nobody'd believe me." Buffy's voice shook slightly.
"Maybe your friends could listen." Spike sounded almost doubtful.
"I was in heaven, Spike. Ultimate peace and joy, and they ripped me away from that. Dragged me back here. Willow ripped me away... nobody else could have done it. Nobody else would be powerful enough." Buffy's voice sounded almost flattened, as if she was trying not to care. "I could hate her for it, if I let myself."
Willow felt as if something inside had been slashed open, leaving her bleeding, weakening, vulnerable. Numb, her limbs stiff and prickly from not moving, she made her way upstairs, slipping into the room where she'd been staying before the resurrection. She collapsed on the bed, trying to understand how things could have gone so wrong. Heaven... she'd been so afraid that Buffy was in Hell, that her spirit could have been pulled into the portal... But they had been wrong.
Buffy hated her, Tara thought that she was addicted to magic, Xander... Xander was too caught up in the upcoming wedding with Anya to notice her. And Dawn was so caught up in being a teenager, in having friends and pushing at the boundaries that she didn't have time for Willow either.
Silent tears burned their way down her cheeks, soaking her pillow before they slowed to a halt, before she fell asleep. Willow's dreams were full of tangled images, broken bits of memory from every argument, every snub, every time that her friends had somewhere else to be, something more important than her in their lives. It wasn't that she wanted to be the center of their world, she just... still wanted to be in their worlds.
~Part: 2~
Gasping, she came awake in the darkness, her blankets tangled around her, trapping her, smothering her. Something had been... hadn't there? No, just a terrible dream. And there was nobody here to chase away the dreams tonight. She fell back against the pillow, noticing the dampness as her cheek brushed it, warm and humid. It took a while before sleep returned to her.
When it did, she dreamed of Angel. Not an erotic dream, but... in the dream, she was Angel, moving through the streets of Los Angeles, talking to Wesley and someone that she barely recognize, more from these dreams than the one time she'd seen him with her own eyes. A man called Gunn, although she wasn't quite certain why he was called that. They were looking for a nest of ghouls, and talking about a search for a missing heirloom that had the power to prevent violence in a building, stolen from an oriental restaurant. They'd been hired to track it down and return it to the family...
It was actually a bit reassurring, although she wasn't certain why. She was there as Angel fought the ghouls, felt the pain when one of them bit into his arm, felt the flesh tear under it's jagged teeth... And felt his demon's satisfaction when he sliced it open with his sword, it's entrails spilling onto the ground as it keened and twitched. She should be disturbed, for so many reasons... but she wasn't.
Willow woke up, feeling comforted. Then, she remembered the conversations last night, the one between her and Tara, and the one that had been between Buffy and Spike. How could she... What could Willow do to prove that her magic wasn't running wild?
There was a slight metallic squeaking, and Willow looked over to the dresser, seeing the familiar cage that held... Amy. Maybe if she turned Amy back to her real self, that could help? She stepped out of the bed, walking slowly towards the cage.
"Morning Amy. I think... I want to try to make you human again. Would you like that, Amy?" She had a small smile as she opened the cage, lifting Amy from it's metal confines carefully.
Amy crouched on Willow's hand, trembling slightly, but her dark eyes fixed on Willow's face with intensity. Willow put her down on the bed, feeling more confident than normal. She always felt more confident after dreaming the life of Angel.
The words poured forth, not a specific spell, but phrases in Latin, Greek, Hebrew and French, asking that Amy be restored to her true shape, that the damage to her be undone, that she have her life once again. The power began to build, swirling around Amy, growling thicker and denser until it pulsed. A noise that started as a tiny squeak ended as a gasp, and a woman crouched on the bed where moments before there had been a rodent.
Her hair was longer now, dark and dull, hanging around her naked form. Glimpses of muscle hinted that the excercise wheel had done more than alleviate boredom. Slowly, she lifted one hand, running her fingers over it with a look of amazement and delight. "I'm... human again..."
With a blur of motion, Amy was hugging Willow, laughing, smiling, tears of joy running down her face. "human again..."
"Umm... also sort of... naked, Amy." Willow pointed out that little detail, uncertain if Amy had noticed or if she'd forgotten about clothing in her time as a rat.
"Err.... naked. Yes, naked. Is me. I am. Umm... should I put soemthing on? Is there something.... the things I had on before... burned?" Amy frowned slightly, trying to puzzle out her thoughts. "Things are all complicated again..."
"Maybe you'd like a shower while I try to find you some things to wear?" Willow smiled at Amy, feeling amazed and relieved that her friend was finally back.
"Shower..." A blissful look settled onto Amy's face. "Yes, I want a shower."
Willow nodded, tugging at her hair, tucking it behind her ear as she considered what might fit Amy. Her friend certainly wasn't fat, especially not now, but she was a bit taller, with wider hips than Willow had. "It's down the hall, the first door on the left."
Amy turned, walking out the door and turning left, still naked. She had a focused look, one that said she wasn't going to be bothered by inconsequential things like nakedness.
"oh dear... this is going to be... something." Willow sighed, still smiling a bit as she tried to figure out how to explain this to everyone. Moving to the closet, she found a baggy dark green shirt, and a wrap around skirt that was patterned in green and blue, so there was something in the way of clothing, but... no underwear. Eeep. Maybe she should look for some sweat pants instead... But hers would be too small, and Buffy's were smaller that hers, and as for Tara... wait, that might actually work.
Her ponderings were interrupted by Amy's slightly embarrassed sounding voice. "Willow? ummm a little help?"
Walking to the bathroom, she found Amy standing in the shower, with soap, a washcloth, shampoo and conditioner all readied, but no water. She wondered exactly what was wrong. "Amy?"
"I forgot how to turn the water on." Amy sounded a bit embarrassed, more about forgetting than the fact that she was naked.
"Oh... well, it's pretty basic, like door knobs. Turn this one for cold, this one for hot... adjust them to get the right temperature. And remember not to get the soap in your eyes."
Amy smiled, eyes grateful. "Thank you, Willow. So many things to remember... You'll help me?"
"Of course I will." She wondered why Amy had any doubts at all.
~Part: 3~
Predictably enough, things got worse. Not instantly, but fairly close. Amy came back into the room after the shower, a fluffy towel wrapped around her body and a comb in one hand. Willow was helping her comb out the tangles, when there was a brief tap at the door, immediately followed by it being pushed open. Dawn walked into the room, and looked at the two of them, Willow perched on the edge of the bed with Amy clad only in a towel sitting on the floor in front of her, obviously just finished in the shower.
Dawn gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she became pale, her expression shocked and angry. "Tara's upset about something you did and now I find you up here with some other girl? Oh God, Willow, how could you do this to her?"
"Wait, Dawnie, it's not" Willow tried to explain, but it didn't work.
"NO! I don't want to hear it!" Dawn spun around, bolting from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Amy was looking at the door, her fingers tapping against her knee. "I think that went badly. Who was that, anyhow?"
"You don't remember? Oh, wait, that's right, you were never very close to Buffy." Willow paused, trying to figure out how to explain the whole Dawn-Key Glory mess. Shaking her head,s he decided to simplify. "That was Dawn, Buffy's younger sister. Umm, you remember Buffy, right? This is her house now... oh, I've been living here at Buffy's house trying to help take care of Dawn after their mom died."
"Tara's the... your girlfriend, right?" Amy sounded hesitent, as if she was trying to sort everything out.
"For the moment... or maybe it would be more accurate to say that she was my girlfriend, especially after this gets twisted into me having an affair with you right here. Umm... other changes... Xander's not dating Cordelia anymore, Cordelia moved to LA, we blew up the school, Angel left, I don't think Buffy's dating anyone, and Xander's engaged to a girl named Anya now." Willow combed through Amy's hair, wondering how she could explain the past three years without Amy wishing that she'd stayed a rat.
Finishing her combing, Willow moved, getting the clothing that she'd found for Amy. "Here, these should fit. I figure that someone will be up soon trying to get answers, and maybe you shouldn't be naked for that."
Amy was just dropping the shirt over her head when the door was flung open again, this time by Buffy, here eyes gleaming with fury, Xander, Tara and Spike trailing behind.
"What is going on in here!?!" Buffy' angry shout was directed at Willow.
Taking a breath, Willow gestured towards the silent figure of Amy, who was looking with curious eyes at the gathering of people. "Remember Amy Madison? I finally managed to de-rat her. But she didn't have any clothing with her, something that YOU should remember all about, Buffy. She wanted a shower, and she'd just come back in here after that when Dawn came in, jumped to some sort of conclusion, yelled at me, and left."
Xander spoke, looking at Amy. "Uhh... Amy? Nice to see the less furry you."
Spike grinned, leaning agaisnt the dresser that still held the empty cage. "Red, you never mentioned that your third room mate looked quite so shaggable. Definitely a step up from the Mutt."
Tara kept glancing from Willow to Amy and back to Willow. "You... you used magic again? What are you going to do with her now?"
"You aren't having an affair?"
Buffy's question caused Amy to start laughing, even as she collapsed onto the floor, shaking her head as the laughter continued, one hand waving towards the crowd of people.
Willow smiled, not noticing the way that Spike's eyes hadn't left Amy. "I told her that by the time Dawn finished, you'd think I was up here having wild monkey sex with someone. Which I wasn't. She didn't believe me. And of course it took magic to de-rat her, how else could you reverse a spell like that?"
"Well, to give the Dawnster a little credit, there's generally something up when there's a mostly naked woman in a room with someone else." Xander's comment didn't quite calm the tension.
"There was a lot of magic in here." Tara's voice still held suspicion.
Willow felt another stab of betrayal at that suspicion. Just because she and Tara generally got very close after any large magical working, did she think that sex always had to follow any serious spell casting? "It was a hard spell to undo."
"Well, since you've brought her back, you'd best figure out what to do with her." Buffy scowled at Amy, reverting to her cold and grumpy behavior as she left the room.
Amy looked at Willow, the laughter finally over. "Well, cranky Buffy."
"That was... a recent change." Willow felt as if something had shattered in the last couple minutes. "For now... how about we pack everythign up here and head over to the Rosenberg place. There won't be anybody there."
Amy looked up at her, and glanced over to the dresser, where Spike still lurked. "Willow? Who is he?"
"How could I have forgotten... That's Spike. He's been helping us for a while now." She wondered if now would be a good time to explain about the Initiative, and the chip.
Tilting her head, Amy continued to stare at Spike. "He's not reflecting... A vampire?"
"True enough. I AM a vampire, the big bad." Spike's voice sounded almost confident, but was he trying to hide something?
Amy glanced at Willow, her eyes twinkling. "Did we trade Angel for him? He's much cuter."
Ignoring the slight choking laughter sound that Spike made, Willow just grinned. "That's a long complicated mess of a story that can wait until later. But no, we didn't trade Angel, Angel just left. Then we got Spike."
"He's cute. Can we keep him?"
Amy's teasing comment made Willow smile, and Spike left the room, muttering something about possessive witches and demented birds.
Amy stared after him, her eyes lingering on his backside. "Birds? What?"
"He's British. I think it's some sort of slang." willow sighed, wondering how to explain to Amy that lusty thoughts about the vampire were probably unwise.
"Let's start packing some of this stuff."
~Part: 4~
Amy looked around the house that Willow's parents owned, frowning at it. "It looks the same."
Willow shook her head, wondering what Amy had expected. "Well, to change it, they would have to be here. They've been away a lot since I graduated High School. They weren't there for it, which wasn't much of a surprise."
"I think you can stay in the guest bedroom, and we can go pick you up some clothing." Willow tried to remember if there was anything that she'd forgotten. "Nothing's been rearranged here besides my room, and I think your dad moved away."
Willow found the credit card that her parents had left, and she and Amy went on a quick shopping trip, getting a basic wardrobe for Amy, since her own was long gone. Neither of them wanted to linger about it, so they returned to the Rosenberg house in a few hours, and began to put things away in the guest room.
"Everything feels so different now..." Amy sounded half wistful.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Willow looked at her friend. "You say that like they used to be good."
"Well... I knew what was happening then. Now I don't." Amy's words carried a simple logic that was impossible to argue.
So Willow began the difficult task of trying to explain the last three years to Amy. The simple version, because the long version would not only take far to long but probably result in Amy deciding that being a rat was much safer. There was the whole Initiative and chip for Spike mess that had been tangled up with Oz leaving, and Glory, and Buffy dying. She explained how she'd brought Buffy back because of the need for a Slayer, and how Tara and the other's had started trying to discourage her magic.
"oooh.. Willow, that was dangerous. Resurrection is powerful stuff.very dangerous. If you do it wrong, your brain turns to mush and you die. If you aren't strong enough, you get fried." Amy looked very worried.
"I don't really have anyone to teach me. Jenny died, and Tara. she's definitely not going to teach me. Which just isn't fair. And Giles doesn't have the time anymore. not that he ever really had it before." Willow sighed in frustration, sitting on the couch.
Amy looked at her, eyes glittering bright. "I can help you learn. I don't know everything, certainly not things like resurrection, but I can help you learn basic control. If we just had somewhere to practice, a place where they'd never look."
The answer was so obvious to Willow that she didn't even hesitate before answering. "Angel's mansion. It's on the edge of town, nobody goes there, and it's got plenty of space."
"Won't he get upset? No. you said he left. Went to La-La land." Amy grinned, wiggling her toes as she looked at Willow. "And I still think Spike looks better."
"Right, Los Angeles, not.well, maybe there isn't that much difference. I don't need to know how to use more power, I need to use what I have with more control. It's like. I have the really big sledge hammer, but no little chisels, if that makes any sense." Willow sighed, wondering if there could be some form of happy ending in this mess.
Amy giggled, looking at Willow with wide eyes. "Magic chisels? Oh, Willow, I can't think of anyone else. wait, brownies. I want brownies. Chocolate. there has to be chocolate."
"We have chocolate, and chocolate chip cookies, and we can go get chocolate shakes if you like. But I mean it, all the little spells... they don't go right." Willow looked at Amy, starting to wonder if there were permanent after effects of her time as a rat.
"Yes! Chocolate shakes. You have no idea how many things I've just been dreaming about." Amy scrambled to her feet, eyes sparkling. "We can start practicing magic over there tomorrow."
Willow was smiling as they left the house, feeling cheerful for the first time in days. Amy was back, she had someone that she could actually talk to about magic, and they would have chocolate. For the moment, things seemed pretty good. Of course, Buffy was still acting like a pod-person, Spike was being all secretive about something, her girlfriend was convinced that she was addicted to magic and might think she was having an affair with Amy. Well, things were still looking a bit better.
~Part: 5~
They were sitting in the park, having their chocolate shakes when Amy looked over Willow's shoulder and blinked, murmuring 'oh wow'. Curious, Willow turned to see just what had caught Amy's interest.
It was Spike, but not quite the way Willow was used to seeing him. He'd been in some sort of fight, and his clothing was torn, the shirt more off than on, and he had bruises and scrapes all over his body, at least, over the parts they could see. His hair was rumpled, with bits of dirt and leaves clinging in it. His movements were angry, jerky almost as if he was trying not to limp.
He looked at them, his eyes having the sort of flat look of someone trying to control their temper. "Witches. What brings you two out here?"
Amy blushed and grinned, lifting her shake in one hand. "Chocolate shakes."
Willow looked at him, feeling worried. Had something happened on patrol? Was there something very nasty stalking out there? "Spike. what happened?"
He blinked, sitting at the end of the bench, looking at them with something dark and painful in his eyes. "Just. not something for you two to worry about. Got into a bit of a fight."
Amy looked at him, her eyes traveling slowly over his cheekbones, the planes of his chest. Slowly, she licked a trace of chocolate from her lip. "Maybe we can help fix that. Healing spell. If Willow and I combine power."
"Thought Red wasn't supposed to be working the witchy stuff any more?" He had a small smile, as if he hoped something devious was going on.
"There is no reason why I can't do a little magic! Just because nobody is wiling to help me learn a little control." Willow glared at him, feeling as if she was burning with anger.
Amy touched her arm. "Calm down. Magic does bad things when you're all emotional tangles. Like turn you into a rat for years. Drink chocolate." Glancing at Spike, she blushed. "I could share mine if he'd like."
Willow looked at her friend, realizing that Amy was trying to flirt with Spike. The idea was somehow stunning and almost not surprising. "So. we can help make Spike less injured?"
"You have to be more calm." Amy offered her shake to Spike, who gave a small shrug before taking a sip. "Once you're calm, we can combine out powers for a healing... no, maybe a mending spell would be better, considering."
So they sat there for a while, in almost awkward silence, drinking chocolate shakes. Spike was watching them carefully, as if he was trying to sort something out. Finally, he gave a little chuckle. "You two aren't shagging after all. Everybody's all worked up over that, and there's nothing happening. Bloody twits."
Amy giggled, looking at Spike. "Willow isn't my type. More for guys, personally. And blonde."
Willow smothered a grin by having more of her shake. That hadn't been very subtle of Amy. although as a guy, Spike still might not get it. But on the bright side, she wasn't feeling nearly so cranky. "Shall we try it?"
Amy grinned, putting down the shake. "Yeah. Here, link hands and focus on Spike."
Willow closed her eyes, remembering Spike whole and healthy, the way he normally was, instead of the bruised version that was currently drinking Amy's shake. She felt her magic swirling together with Amy's, and then it shifted, taking the focus and feel of a spell before flowing into Spike.
"What the. damn, that's handy." Spike's voice was low, full of surprise as he spoke.
Opening her eyes, Willow discovered that Spike had a look of wonder on his face. The scrape over his cheekbone and the black eye were both gone, and his shirt was whole again. He looked better, healthier than he had in a long time.
Amy grinned, letting go of Willow's hand to bound over and give Spike a quick hug. "See? All better, and it was magic."
Spike nodded, smiling just a bit at her. "Yeah, magic. Pretty impressive, and makes me feel a lot better."
Willow looked at Spike, wondering what was going on inside his head. "So. everything's okay? No big evil to research, no scary invading army of demons?"
"Not at the moment." He shrugged a bit, still holding the chocolate shake. "Not sure about Angel's situation, and your Slayer doesn't know anything new. tried to get a hold of him, but the number wasn't working anymore."
Willow made a small shrug. "The old office got blown up, and they moved to the Hotel Hyperion. Angel bought it. He's still helping people in need, still got Cordy and Wesley there, and still brooding. All is as normal as LaLa land. err, Los Angeles gets."
"How do you know that?" Spike's eyes were filled with questions, and he looked at her, as if he could pull the answers from her with the intensity of his gaze.
Willow felt a moment of panic. How could she explain this one? Well, she might as well try the truth. "I've had dreams about what he's been doing. Ever since I restored his soul."
"How detailed? How do you dream it?" Spike looked as if he was curious, disturbed and intrigued all at once.
"I dream them every so often, not really on a set schedule. Just sort of moments out of his life. Only, it's normally as if they're moments of MY life, like I'm seeing what he sees, feeling what he feels." She looked at the table, her eyes following the wood grain to avoid looking at Spike or Amy.
"At least we know that he's alright then." Spike's words were low, as if he was thinking about something else. "Anyone else know about these dreams of yours?"
"No. And I'd like it to stay that way." She looked up, meeting his eyes.
"Fair enough." Spike shrugged, as if it wasn't a concern for him either way.
"Can you walk us back to her parent's house?" Amy looked at Spike, her eyes pleading.
"Why not? Not like it would be that much trouble. Time to go, Red, Amy." He grinned, holding his arms out to them like an old fashioned gentleman.
Spike escorted them back to the Rosenberg house, offering them a very proper sounding good evening at the door. He looked very surprised by Amy's impulsive kiss, which would have landed on his cheek, except for the fact that he'd turned slightly, causing it to fall on his lips instead.
"Life is definitely looking up." Amy sounded extremely happy.
~Part: 6~
Then, Amy looked over at Willow. "You have a link to Angel? Why didn't you say anything?"
"Who would I tell? Xander hates Angel. Buffy would be horribly jealous. I couldn't tell Oz. or Tara for about the same reason. Giles didn't want to talk to me about magic, and doubly so about Angel. Dawn gets all freaked out about anything having to do with Angel loosing his soul or getting it back, she sort of wants to pretend it was just always there." Willow sighed, looking at Amy with sad eyes.
"Well, what about. umm. how about. Okay, I see your point." She sat down, tapping her fingers against the floor. "But having a link to someone else. it's a very big deal."
"It scared me at first. When I didn't know what it was, or why I was having those dreams. They come more often if he's all stressed, or if I am." Willow suddenly realized that she wanted to talk to someone about the dreams, about her strange connection to Angel. "They don't frighten me any more."
"So. you only get happy dreams of Angel?" Amy frowned slightly, her nose wrinkling a bit.
"No, I wouldn't say that. Sometimes, he's fighting things, even getting hurt. But they don't scare me like they used to, like maybe they should. I can feel everything, the ground beneath his feet, the smoke in the air, hear all the noises of everybody around him. But it doesn't scare me." Willow sat down, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Is that wrong? It doesn't even scare me anymore when he's all grr and fighting, or freak me out when he's having his breakfast mug of blood."
"Okay, now that's weird. I don't know how I'd deal with living through being a vampire doing all that." Amy shivered, her fingers playing with a loose thread in the carpet. "Maybe it's good that you're linked to him. Maybe... does it go both ways? Does Angel dream the life of Willow?"
The idea made all sorts of emotions go through her. Looking at Amy, she spoke, her voice soft and thoughtful. "I really don't know."
"Well, links and bonds are a lot more complicated than I know. We start with smaller stuff. is tomorrow good?" Amy yawned, her words interrupted. "ohh. okay, sleep is good."
"Alright, Amy. Tomorrow, we can get started with basic magic. Tonight, go to sleep." She smiled at her friend, hoping that everything could go as well as it seemed right now.
"Night Willow. Have a nice scrumptious dream of your vampire." Amy stood up, moving towards the guest room.
Willow was about to protest, about to claim that Angel wasn't hers, to protest that the dreams weren't scrumptious, but decided not to bother. They helped her to relax, how could that be a bad thing? She was still trying to figure out why Amy had gone from the dreams happening to calling them 'scrumptious' when she fell asleep.
When she dreamed, it was about Angel visiting Faith. The Slayer was in prison, dressed in loose orange clothing, her face bare of make up. She smelled of bruises and pain, and when she walked, the motion was slower, stiffer than it should be. He was worried about her, there was something wrong, but he didn't know what it was, what it could be. He didn't know why her skin was looking so pale, or why there were dark circles under her eyes.
"Faith. How are things?" He wished that he knew what was wrong, or even the right questions to ask to find out. It was hard to be certain, but was that a faint scant of sulfur clinging to her skin?
She shrugged, the gesture lacking its usual confidence. "Fang. Things are. pretty much what I expected. It's the whole penance thing."
He tried to learn a bit more, but Faith changed the subject, asking him about the Sunnydale gang, about Wesley and Cordelia. Asking him about sports games and making it entirely clear that the subject was closed. She smiled a bit, saying that she hoped she'd see him around.
There was a bruise peeking out of the collar of her shirt, edging up her neck. It was the dark purple black of something very painful, the sort from hard impact.
Willow woke up, trying to sort out the tangle of questions and suspicions. Something was wrong with Faith, she was in danger, and trying to hide it. Why? What could she do about it? And when had Faith started to care about the people in Sunnydale?
~Part: 7~
Willow woke up, stretching and yawning before making her way to the shower. She didn't glance in the mirror, too muddled by sleep to be quite certain if she was Willow or Angel. The shower helped wake her up, clear her mind of the fuzzy padding that had slowed her thoughts. By the time she was finished, she was quite certain that she was Willow, that there was something wrong with Faith's situation, Tara and the rest of the scoobies didn't quite trust her, and Amy was supposed to help her work on magic.
She felt better as she made her way to the kitchen, snickering as she caught sight of Amy. Her friend was perched on the counter, a small pile of orange peels on a napkin beside her as she ate slices of orange, licking the sticky juice from her fingers. Seems that chocolate wasn't the only thing that Amy had missed. It made her smile, and then giggle.
"Morning Amy. You didn't like the chairs?" She had a moment of worry, had Amy forgotten chairs the way that she'd forgotten shower knobs?
Amy wrinkled her nose at Willow, pausing to swallow the mouthful of orange before answering. "I didn't want my face in the sunlight. It feels too bright."
"Oh. So. did you want to start here, or should we go check out the mansion?" Willow smiled even as she started the small coffee maker, moving slowly around the kitchen assembling her own breakfast.
"Hmm.. Mansion. Less likely to have cranky Buffy drop in. Although Xander looks better than he did in high school. But not until after breakfast." Amy peeled another strip from her orange. "Willow, does your mom know you drink coffee?"
"I don't think my mom realizes that I graduated from high school yet, or the fact that the school got blown up. Me drinking coffee is so far down the list of things that she doesn't know." Willow sighed, wishing that her mom could be more like Joyce had been.
"Ouch. Bad Mrs. Rosenberg. My mom took an interest in my life. Rather too much, actually, but at least she knew my age.' Amy frowned, possibly remembering how her mother had switched bodies with her to try to become a cheerleader.
So, they finished breakfast and made their way out of the house, taking Willow's car, a second hand Volkswagon Bug, to the Crawford Street mansion. It looked big, and looming, and just exactly like the sort of house that should have horror stories written about it. Willow parked the car in the garage, next to a large shape covered over with canvas and dust.
Moving through the door in the garage, they entered the mansion, shadows filling the corners, obscuring the walls and ceilings. Dust motes danced in the few stray sunbeams, and cobwebs softened the corners. Their footsteps echoed.
"umm. it needs a bit of help." Amy's dry comment prompted the pair of them to start giggling.
They made their way to what looked like an indoor garden, sunlight pouring down through a dingy skylight. Brown grass and thorn covered briars spilled over the sides of planter boxes, and there was a stunted looking tree with a few brave leaves trying to grow. It was not the most cheerful place, but it would do for a start.
Amy started with the things that she said were the very most basic of all. Identifying what energy was 'Willow' and what wasn't. Moving on to determining what 'not-Willow' energy was Amy, and what was just there, learning to test the 'feel' of the ambient energy to know if there had been magic there before, or powerful emotions. Learning to sense magic being used right now.
These were supposed to be the very basic elements of magical study, yet nobody had ever gone over them with Willow. Not even when Tara had wanted to try 'something simple' and they'd tried to combine their power to pluck the petals from a rose. Willow sighed, rubbing at her temple. Nothing had taken very much power, but the concentration had felt intense, giving her a bit of a headache.
"Maybe this is why so many spells don't go right. I got tossed right into calculus without anyone showing me addition and subtraction." Willow sighed, rubbing at itchy eyes. Amy had been telling her to look with her inner eyes, not with the hazel ones that could read Latin, but she'd kept trying, not having the hang of the energy-sensing thing quite yet. She understood the theory of what Amy was saying, but. how did you go about convincing yourself that you don't need your eyes to see?
"Yeah, that could do it. But we can fix it. We can manage the basic things, and then find a more advanced witch to study under." Amy grinned, looking very pleased. "This is good for me too, because it wasn't the same being a rat. I couldn't do magic like I could before, or else I would have changed myself back."
"Well, then a bit of a refresher for you, and the basics for me. At least I know that I can do magic, so I should definitely be able to figure this part out." Willow smiled just a bit, even as she wondered where the nearest headache medicine could possibly be.
"Cool. Didn't you say there was a somewhere to be today?" Amy grinned, looking far less headachey than Willow felt.
"Yeah, I have a couple classes this afternoon. Umm." Willow paused, considering Amy. "Maybe you could sort of hang out at the college, sort of watching people? It's daytime, so there shouldn't be anything demony, and if you stay in the student lounge, you should be safe from human jerks. oh, if you meet a guy named Parker Abrams, tell him to get lost. He just wants to have sex - with as many females as remotely possible, and after he gets it, he drops them like a hot rock."
"Really? How do you know?" Amy looked curious.
"Buffy, our freshman year. Fell for his wholly sympathetic nice guy act hook, line and sinker. It was ugly. So. learn from Buffy's mistake." Willow felt almost better, remembering the complete first aid kit in the back of her car, including headache medicine.
Amy giggled. "Okay, any other Buffy-Mistakes to learn from?"
"Always let Giles finish telling you how to banish the demon before smashing the diagram?" Willow smirked, remembering that mess.
Amy laughed as they walked back to the garage.
~Part: 8~
Willow made her way out of her math class, running over the last example in her mind. She almost walked into Tara before she saw her girlfriend, or possibly ex-girlfriend glaring at her, her eyes filled with hurt. "Tara?"
"Willow. You were gone last night." Tara fell into step beside Willow as she made her way towards the room for her class in sociology.
"Considering the mood you were in, I didn't want to stick around. Especially with Buffy so. cranky." Willow sighed, wondering why Tara looked so upset. "It's not like I did anything wrong, I don't have to stay at Buffy's house."
"You don't have to leave with strange girls either, but you did." Tara's words were soft, filled with pain and jealousy.
"Excuse me?" Willow blinked, wondering exactly what was going through Tara's mind. "Are you jealous of Amy? She's not... we aren't. I'm not even close to her type!"
"But she's pretty." Tara looked away, missing the hurt expression on Willow's face.
"Well, yeah, but. just because someone looks good that doesn't mean I'm having an affair with them. She's just. Amy needs a bit of help to adjust to everything, that's all." She didn't mention the magic, didn't dare breathe a word of it. Not here, not in front of whoever might be walking down the halls. Tara didn't want her using so much magic anyhow.
"How long is she going to need this 'help'? When is she leaving?" Tara looked at Willow, her eyes full of doubt and worry.
The look felt almost worse than being hurled to the ground by some overly feisty fledgeling on patrol. "You don't trust me. How can you not trust me? How could you think that I would do that to you. I can't. Tara, I can't date someone that feels like they have to watch my every move, monitor who I talk to. I can't be with someone that can't trust me. I'm sorry."
She didn't remember the rest of the trip to the room for her Sociology class. Didn't remember the lecture at all, although she had pages of notes about the changing racial balance, statistics, and the ethnic make up of America, and why those statistics were important. In fact the next thing she was really clear on, Amy was beside her, waiting for Willow to unlock the door of her car so they could leave the campus.
"So. something ruined your mood? Maybe we could go get pine-sol and brooms and clean out the mansion? Or at least get started on it." Amy had worried eyes, and the look on her face suggested that they might have been standing by the car for a while.
"Hmm. cleaning. Well, it has to be safer than casting spells while feeling like someone just ripped your heart out and replaced it with a leaky lemon." Willow sighed, unlocking the car and starting it up. Leaning over, she unlocked the passenger door so Amy could get in the car. "Tara thought. she. well, she made it pretty clear that she doesn't trust me. And I can't stay with someone who doesn't trust me."
"Willow, you're great and all, but. does Tara know that you aren't my type?" Amy frowned, looking less than thrilled. But that could have been from the heat that had built up in the car over the past few hours.
"Of course she." Willow stopped herself, taking a slow breath to calm down. "What I mean is, I told her that. So she should know if she was actually listening to me."
They began the long task of trying to clean up the mansion. Starting with removing the cobwebs from the corners and sweeping the dust away, the pair of them realized that there was just so much mansion that It would take a very long time to make it all right again. A swift exchange of glances confirmed the idea of starting with just the kitchen, main hall, and the garden first, and slowly moving on from there. Maybe they could even bring magic into the cleaning later.
But eventually, the cleaning lost it's appeal, and they went back to her house to change their clothing and shower away the grime. They felt like they'd accomplished quite a bit.
"Maybe we should. make sure there's no big scary evil?" Willow wasn't certain how Amy would respond.
Amy smiled, eyes twinkling. "Maybe we could go visit that magic shop you said Giles has? If he's there, or even Anya, we could find out about any big scary. And it's been a long time since I was in a magic shop."
They walked to the store, chatting about some movies that had come out in the past three years, discussing Hollywood stars and music trends, all the sort of things that Amy had missed and wouldn't freak out random people on the street. The offered small waves towards Anya when they entered the shop, and she just sort of gave a sharp nod.
"Not very friendly, is she?" Amy looked at Anya, her voice soft.
"We aren't likely to spend lots of money in here. Money's a very big thing to Anya. But. well, she wouldn't be that calm if there was a huge impending crisis." Willow whispered to Amy, making her way towards the back area where they kept the research books.
". I'm just trying to say, that I bloody well don't care if they look at us funny! I don't want to be your dirty little secret." Spike's voice sounded angry, a bit muffled. He had to be in the shipping area, arguing with someone.
"What did you think you were?" Buffy's voice was cold and harsh. "You aren't my boyfriend, you aren't my friend Spike. You're just someone to chase away the emptiness inside."
"So that's it? I'm just a quick shag in the alley?" Spike's voice sounded incredulous.
Amy and Willow exchanged horrified glances. Willow felt like she'd just had the ground swept out from under her. Buffy and Spike? She'd known that Buffy had been acting different, and that she'd talked to Spike, but. that wasn't talking. And since when was Buffy so harsh about anyone's feelings?
"Basically. You aren't a man, Spike. You may look like it, but you aren't. You're just... a heartless demon that's more useful here than dust." Buffy's words were sharp, as if intended to hurt.
Amy looked at Willow, her eyes wide and appalled. "Can we. not be here?"
Willow just nodded, and they left the Magic Box. She felt like everything was changing. First, Tara thinks she's having an affair with Amy, and Amy's lusting after Spike. Then, they learn that Spike and Buffy were. eeeuughh. And Buffy was just using Spike. It felt like too much, too horrible.
"I don't think I like the new Sunnydale that much." Amy's voice was soft, a bit sad.
Willow looked over, wondering how much of that sadness was because Amy wanted Spike. "I'm not too sure I like it either."
~Part: 9~
In Los Angeles, Angel tossed his blankets aside, lurching from his bed with a vile taste in his mouth. That had been the most dreadful dream. He shuddered, feeling almost unclean. Definitely a shower.
He'd been having dreams about Willow for a couple years now. Not just Willow appearing in the nightmares about his evil deeds, or the lustful dreams that a man might have about a sweet attractive woman, but dreams where he WAS Willow. He had no idea where they came from, or why he had them. But he would dream bits of her life, sometimes memories, sometimes what had to be current events.
He'd dreamed about her finding Oz and that she-wolf together in the crypt-cage, and had wanted to rip the smug she wolf to bloody shreds, and tear out Oz's throat. Willow was sweet, patient, and looked at Oz and saw a young man, not a monster. And he was willing to throw that away fro some cheap trampy she wolf? The bastard deserved to have his kidneys carved out.
That had hurt. He'd felt oddly jealous when she'd gotten involved with Tara, although some of those dreams. well, he'd never quite pictured Willow doing things like that before. Nor could he forget the images now that he'd dreamed them.
Nothing had prepared him for this one though. Willow had argued with Tara, broken up with Tara over trust issues. He wondered if that had to do with the question of how much magic was too much as well as Amy? If that had been it though, he might have been alright. But to dream about his childe sleeping with Buffy.. Being used as her personal whipping boy and sexual toy. it turned his stomach.
Even if he wasn't all caught up in Dru anymore, Spike was supposed to have better taste than that! Hadn't he loathed the idea of being compared to Angelus? Didn't he despise Slayers in general and Buffy in particular? And to hear Buffy's voice like that, so cold, so empty.
He made his way down to the lobby, grunting in acknowledgement of Cordelia's perky greeting. "Wesley, what do you know about the Council's policy on misbehaving Slayers?"
"Rather little, I'm afraid. There isn't a lot of precedent for it, considering the way the Council usually manages everything about the Slayer's lives. Why do you ask?" Wesley frowned, looking a bit unsettled.
"What has you so grumpy, Angel? And can you stop being all Grrr? We could have had a customer in here!" Cordelia looked at him, sounding rather annoyed.
"Nobody else was here. I would have heard them." He rubbed his hand over his face, noticing for the first time that he did have his vampire features. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of something soothing, like. yes, Willow's trip to the beach. "Something's wrong with Faith. She's tense, nervous, and bruised. Ugly bruises, the sort that no human could put on a Slayer. And I don't think the prison knows anything about it, at least, not that they're admitting."
"Do you think the Council's behind it?" Cordelia looked stunned.
Angel shrugged, wishing that he knew more. "I don't know. But they're one of the top two possibilities that I can think of who would have the resources and finesse to try something like it. None of the local vampire or demon leaders would be able to try it. If they could pass for human enough to get in, there isn't enough patience or subtlety."
"I suppose that I shall have to try to learn if the council has any involvement in this. There are a few people who will still talk to me." Wesley frowned, suddenly smelling worried and a touch afraid. "If Faith is in danger. we certainly must try to keep her safe."
"Wesley, this is the same Faith who went to the dark side and then tortured you, remember? Bad girl, tattoos?" Cordelia looked shocked.
"She's. That is, as. Faith is my Slayer, and I have a certain. responsibility towards her." Wesley was blushing now. "And how can we determine if she sincerely wanted to change if someone kills her?"
Angel felt like he'd missed an important clue. Wesley might be talking like someone who felt responsible, but he didn't act like it. He acted almost like a guy who's girlfriend was in trouble. Had that been why Wesley was so willing to give Faith a second chance, after everything? Because he had feelings and desires for her? "Right. We don't want Faith to be killed."
He just wished he had a better idea how to prevent it.
~Part: 10~
Willow sighed, wishing that she could pay a little more attention to her history lecture. She was quite certain that this would be on her test. The test that would help determine if she qualified for the Advanced History class that would not only be good on her records but sounded a lot more interesting. But her mind kept spinning back to the overheard fragments of Buffy and Spike's conversation. Buffy and Spike were having sex. It was creepy, it was wrong. it was unnatural.
But at least Amy was just as disturbed by it. She got this twitchy scowl at the very thought. which might have been connected to the fact that Amy thought Spike looked 'entirely lickable and tasty'. While Spike wasn't Willow's type, and was also the same guy that had kidnapped and threatened her, she did have to agree that he looked quite attractive, if you liked the lean, dangerous sort. Apparently, Amy liked the bad boy type.
Everything was in turmoil. Spike and Buffy, her break up with Tara, this thing with Faith possibly being in danger, Amy's crush on Spike. All they needed was some ominous prophecy of doom. Or maybe someone trying to open the Hellmouth. Yeah, that would make everything just a bit worse.
She sighed as she made her way to the Magic Box. Amy joined her, having spent the hour or so that Willow had been in class just hanging around the campus, watching people be all human. It was sort of a behavior study. a reminder for someone that had spent three years as a rat. Amy fell into step near her, smiling a bit, asking a few questions about the various fraternities on the campus.
The easy, comfortable chatter about normal things was a welcome change from discussing the demon of the week, or the debate over how much magic was too much. Entering the Magic Box, Willow offered a small wave to Anya. Anya's response was to wave the two of them over, her expression full of questions.
"What is going on with you two? I know Dawn was saying something about an affair, and you aren't with Tara anymore. spill!" Anya's demand for information was entirely lacking in subtlety, but it was also lacking in accusation.
Amy giggled, her eyes flickering from Willow to Anya. "An affair? With Willow? Good heavens no! She's. well. she. Female. Not happening."
Willow sighed, looking less amused. "Amy was the rat in my dorm room. Only, I finally managed to de-rat her. Dawn saw her right after a shower, jumped to conclusions, got everyone upset. So, no, there is no secret Willow affair. Try asking bout Buffy though. Tara thinks I'm using too much magic. And she thought that I was.that I would cheat on her with Amy. Which I wasn't. So, I had to break up with her. I won't stay in a relationship with someone that doesn't trust me, no matter how much I love them."
Anya nodded, her eyes taking on the same misty fondness that usually warned of a string of memories o her vengeance days. "That does tend to lead to trouble. All sorts of trouble - heartache, betrayal, spying, tricks to catch someone doing wrong. Definitely not healthy for a relationship. What about the question of using your magic?"
Amy sighed, looking at Anya. "How can they say she shouldn't use magic if they keep asking her for spells?"
Willow gave a tiny smile. "Amy's going to help me learn the basics of control. the sort of thing that Giles was always too busy to cover. And Tara seemed to think I already knew."
"Good. Then you won't have so many spells go wrong." Anya smiled, apparently pleased by everything.
Willow just sort of nodded, making her way towards the back. "Yeah. that's the idea."
"Is she always so. cheering?" Amy's whisper could only be about Anya.
Willow snickered a bit. "Actually, that was downright good for Anya. She. umm. did I explain about Anya?"
"Just that after he split up with Cordelia he ended up dating her." Amy frowned, looking at her hand carefully. "Was there something else that would explain her better?"
"She spent eleven hundred years as a vengeance demon before sort of getting stuck as a human again. Anyanka the Patron Saint of Scorned Women is now Anya Jenkins, girlfriend of Xander Harris. She's actually less tactful than Cordelia, and talks a lot more about sex, money, and painful dismemberment." Willow sighed, collapsing into a chair in the research room. "And our lives must sound so strange in summary."
"Well. yeah. They sound really strange. Then, I remember high school, and I realize that they fit everything else in Sunnydale." Amy giggled a bit. "So. can we avoid the house of Summers? I don't think I want to spend a lot of time around Buffy or Dawn who thinks we're having an affair."
"Works for me. You. we can stay at my house and I won't be all lonely." Willow sighed. "I'll just tell them that Mom and Dad heard a few thing on home burglaries and wanted me to keep a closer eye on the house."
"Cool." Amy smiled, looking relieved.