And now on the brittle ground I'm lying,
Screaming to die with the dead year's dead;
The stem of the rose is black and drying,
The willow is tossing the wind from her head.
-- Dorothy Parker, The Willow

Willow stood awkwardly near the library doors and waited for
someone to appear. Giles finally stepped out of his office
and looked up, startled, as she cleared her throat.

"Willow," he acknowledged, taking in her upswept hair that
left the bite marks on her neck plainly visible. His eyes
lingered on the fresh one. "He feeds on you," the Watcher
spat, disgust evident in his voice.

"I let him," Willow replied, her eyes flashing angry fire.

"What happened to you, Willow?" he asked sadly.

"I grew up," she stated, meeting his eyes defiantly and crossing
her arms. She sighed heavily. "Look, Giles, you the one who called
me here, and I doubt it was to discuss my _personal_ choices," she
hissed, taking a seat.

"Yes, I was hoping you could identify this symbol," he stated,
placing a sheet of notebook paper on the table in front of her.
Willow absently traced the triangle and the wavy line through
it with her fingers.

"It's a protection symbol; I'm using it in a spell." She looked
up at him. "Why?"

"It was found on two ritually murdered children night before
last," Giles replied, his voice cold. "Tell me, Willow, have
you been anywhere near the playground?"

"Oh, my God," Willow cried, her eyes wide. "I cannot believe
you think that I did this." She stood up suddenly, the library
chair sliding away from her and turning over with a loud bang.

"Not you; maybe your boyfriend," a new voice commented. Willow
whirled around to face Xander.

"How can you accuse me?" she asked, fighting back her tears.

"Because we don't know you anymore," the boy hissed.

"I don't have to stay here for this," Willow growled, grabbing
her bag and storming across the library. Before she could reach
the doors, they swung open and Principal Snyder stalked into the
room.

"Miss Rosenberg," the man smiled. "Look what we found in your
locker." He held up three baggies filled with various herbs.
"I took the liberty of calling your mother; she was extremely
shocked." He grinned again and moved out of the doorway as
Willow's mom walked in, her eyes wide and her fingers
rapidly turning the pages of one of Willow's spell books.

"Willow, would you like to explain this?" Sheila ordered.
Willow looked over her shoulder hoping Giles or Xander would
come to her rescue.

"Here' that book you were looking for, Mr. Harris," Giles
commented, picking a random book off the library table and
handing it to the boy.

"Thanks," he nodded, taking the book and walking away from
the small group at the library doors.

"Willow?" her mother prodded. "We're going home. Now." Sheila
turned and stalked out of the library; Willow glared as she
passed Snyder's gloating face.

"Well, this day can't get much worse," she muttered. The drive
to the Rosenberg house was made in silence with Willow growing
increasingly uncomfortable. 
Willow thought, laughing softly and taking in the sunny California
morning. Sheila slammed the car door open and stomped out of the
car; Willow jumped as the door slammed shut. She followed her mother
into the house and calmly stood in the hallway.

"Willow, sit," Sheila ordered, picking up a long piece of sage; Willow
complied. "First of all, I understand you experimenting with different
religious practices." Willow opened her mouth to reply, but her mother
held up a silencing hand. "Teenagers are apt to rebel against
conventionally practice, I know that--"

"It's not an experiment, Mother," Willow replied, crossing her arms
and leaning back into the couch. "I can do magick, powerful magick.
I can levitate things, pencils mostly, but I'm getting better."

"You've always had a vivid imagination, but this is going a bit too
far. It's Bunny, isn't it? I've always known that girl was a bad
influence." Willow laughed suddenly, causing her mother to look up
in alarm.

"Buffy has nothing to do with this," she explained, indicating the
magick supplies laid out on the table. "We aren't even on speaking
terms."

"Oh, well, that's the first sign of common sense you've shown
lately," her mother smiled. "Now about this 'magick'." she made the
sarcastic quote marks in the air. Willow rolled her eyes and stood
up.

"I'm eighteen, Mom," Willow stated calmly. "It's my choice."

"You don't turn eighteen until next week, and until then, what
you choose to do under this roof is what I tell you to choose."

"Then maybe I won't live under this roof anymore, Mother," Willow
growled, glaring at the older woman. "Maybe I'll go live on the
streets in a box, or maybe I'll just go shack up with my vampire
boyfriend."

"Vampires? Oh, Willow, we must do something about your overactive
imagination."

"Mom! Look at my neck," she ordered, indicting the bites on her
neck. "I didn't get these by falling on a...a..." She trailed off
searching for the right words. "Barbecue fork!" she exclaimed,
finally finding the words she was searching for.

"Willow, if we can't discuss this like rational human beings, go
to your room," Sheila ordered. Willow started that way, trying to
reign in her anger, but she lost that battle.

"Oh, and, Mother, Angel's not just a vampire," she grinned, turning
to face Sheila. "He's also Catholic."

"Willow!" her mother exclaimed, her eyes wide. Willow then decided
to run up the stairs and slammed the door shut to her room before
her mother could begin a lecture on inter-faith relationships.

"The vampire part doesn't bother her, but the Catholic part does,"
Willow sighed, rolling her eyes. She walked over and dropped herself
facedown on her bed. She felt her body relax, and she slipped into a
deep sleep. She awoke hours later to hear a pounding on her bedroom
door; Willow looked out her balcony doors to see the sun setting on
the horizon. "More tired than I thought," she yawned, rising to her
feet and walking over to the door. She pulled it open to find her
mother standing there.

"Mom?" she asked as she noticed the other people standing in the
hallway. "What's going on?"

"I'm letting you go with love," Sheila replied, stroking her
daughter's cheek.

"Mom, did you accidentally take some of Dad's medication?" Willow
asked as hands reached out and grabbed her arms. "Mom!" Willow
screamed as her hands were tied behind her back; she struggled against
the hands that held her. Her struggles ceased as one of her captors
slammed a club into the side of her head. Willow fell limp as she
slipped into unconsciousness.

Across town, Angel was thrown out of a peaceful sleep with such force.
He growled softly as one thought occupied his brain.

His mate was in pain.
 

And now on the brittle ground I'm lying,
Screaming to die with the dead year's dead;
The stem of the rose is black and drying,
The willow is tossing the wind from her head.
-- Dorothy Parker, The Willow

"Where is she!?" Angel demanded, storming into the library; Buffy and
Xander were instantly on their feet. Giles took the wet rag off his face
and stared at the vampire. "Where is she?" Angel demanded again.

"MOO," Giles replied. Angel blinked, trying to comprehend Giles' statement.

"Nice impersonation of a cow; now, where is she?"

"MOO, Mothers Opposed to the Occult," Buffy clarified, not looking up at
the vampire.

"Brilliant acronym," Angel snorted. "And they have Willow?"

"Joyce is apparently leading a mob against any supernatural entity. They
tried to grab Buffy," Giles indicated. The Slayer finally looked up at
Angel; the vampire's gaze met hers briefly as he turned away.

"There was a time you would have asked me if I was okay," Buffy stated.

"Things change," he shrugged, heading to the doors just as they burst open,
and Faith walked in.

"Hey, Watcher, stuff going down at City Hall," she commented, "Hey, Fang,"
she acknowledged.

"City Hall?" the vampire asked; Faith looked over and nodded.

"People carrying torches like a scene out of Frankenstein," she replied.

"They have Willow," he stated.

"Witch burning?" she asked. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go save
Red." Faith turned on her heels and out the doors. Angel started to follow
her, but Xander was suddenly in front of him.

"Where are you going?" the boy demanded. Angel growled softly and grabbed
Xander's arms; he tossed the younger man away from him. Xander's head hit
the wall, and his vision blurred.

"That was an involuntary action, boy," Angel hissed. "Imagine what I would
have done if I'd planned something." Xander tried to stand on his own, but
he ended up leaning against the wall for support. "If you want to help me
find Willow then you're welcome to it; if not, then get the hell out of the
way. I have to save my mate." With that Angel followed Faith out of the
library.

Angel caught up with the brunette Slayer easily, and the two of them made a
formidable sight as the stormed down the middle of the street.

"So what's the plan?" Faith asked as City Hall came into sight.

"Save Willow," he replied, not tearing his eyes away from the building.

"Not much for details, are you?" she smirked.

"Okay, how about this? You create a distraction, and I save Willow," he
commented, finally looking over at her.

"Sounds like a plan to me," she grinned as they entered City Hall. Angel
sniffed the air.

"Smoke," he stated, heading towards a pair of double doors; the two guards
wearing 'MOO' buttons stopped him. "Faith, wanna deal with Grunt?" he
asked, indicating the man on his left.

"My pleasure," the brunette grinned, bringing her knee up to guy's groin.
He doubled over, and Faith slammed her fist into the back of his neck. He
collapsed to the ground unconscious. "One down," she stated. Angel grabbed
the front of the other guys shirt and slammed his head into the wall. He
fell across his buddy's body.

"Two down," Angel smiled darkly. The pair turned to the doors. "Count of
three?" he asked; they exchanged glances and kicked the door in. Smoke
billowed into the hallway; Faith backed away from the smoke while Angel
dove into it.

"ANGEL!" Willow screamed before she broke into a coughing fit; Angel
squinted against the smoke but managed to catch a glimpse of two forms
tied to separate stakes. He raced through the smoke as he caught sight
of the flames crawling over the books nearing Willow's ankle.

"Faith! I need your help in here!" he shouted; as the Slayer entered,
he motioned her over to the other girl. Faith busied herself with the
ropes holding the girl in place as Angel tore into the ones binding
Willow. "Willow?" he asked, hoping she would reply, but silence greeted
him. "Willow!" he demanded sharply, but she didn't reply. "Don't you
dare die on me, Witch," he ordered roughly. The final rope snapped, and
Angel cradled her in his arms. He was faintly aware of Faith helping
the other girl out of the room as he tried to hear Willow's breathing.
He heard her take a shallow breath and he started towards the door only
to be stopped by two sweet, childlike voices.

"Kill the bad girls," they ordered.

"I don't have time for this," he growled, ignoring the children and
hurrying out of the room. He carried Willow out of the building and
set her down on the sidewalk.

"There's something in that room," Faith commented as she and the other
girl walked over to the two of them. "I felt it."

"It was those two kids. The dead ones," the girl supplied; she joined
Angel on the ground next to Willow. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I-I don't know," he replied, fighting back tears. "We need to get her
to a hospital."

"And that's what I'm here for," Oz commented, as his van rolled to a
stop next to them. "C'mon," he urged. Angel picked Willow up and carried
her into the back of the van. He reclined against the side of the van
and gently stroked Willow's hair. He met Faith's eyes across the van.

"It'll be okay," she appeased.

"It has to be," he replied, nodding.

*FIN*

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