By Neva

neva.crandall@csus.edu

Feedback is much appreciated -- it has been awhile since I had a chance to post anything

Pairing: Willow/Angel

Note to the Reader:

This is the sequel to my previous story "Dreams?"; a description of my version of the BtVS universe was included with
part one of that story. Just a note, the connection between Cassandra and willow ended after Willow's first death. I
apologize in advance for all inaccuracies related to Highlander. I missed many of the episodes so I'm making things up.
This is a very short story - only three parts.

Disclaimer: All characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Highlander belong to the shows' creators. I'm just
borrowing them for entertainment.

Rating PG13 (violence)

< > Indicate thoughts

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Willow found the first victim behind a dumpster.

She had stopped to throw away the soda bottle she'd grabbed at a vending machine earlier. The smell was what alerted
her first, making her stomach roll over. With newly acquired reflexes she had pulled her sword out of the duffel back
she now carried most of time. Angel had given the bag to her so she wouldn't have to wear a coat in the ninety-degree
weather. She tossed the soda bottle and bag to the side, leaving her hands free. The bodies she had seen throughout
high school and during this past year didn't prepare the young Immortal at all for what she found. After staring in
horror for several long moments she turned quickly and got sick in the overgrown bushes that concealed the dumpster.
Willow stuck the point of her blade into the dry earth and leaned on it, using the support to stay upright. Her knees
were trembling, and the image of the body she had found was burned into her brain. Willow blindly grabbed the discarded
duffel bag and jammed her sword back into it. Weapon concealed she ran to the nearest payphone.

The first police officer found the site by finding her. Willow was calm and more than a little numb. <I'm in shock.
Need to sit down. >

The officer was sure that the hysterical call about a dead body was a prank. The young cop was new to both his job and
to Sunnydale. He was surprised to find the caller still by the phone booth. It was a student -- a slender, delicate
redhead. She was incredibly pale, her mouth pressed into a small white line, hands gripping a large book bag with white
knuckles. She didn't look like she was trying to pull off a prank. Actually, she looked like she was going to be ill.

"Miss?" The young woman looked up from the spot on the pavement that she'd been studying. "Are you the individual who
called the police?"

"Yes." Her voice was soft, almost inaudible.

"Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down."

"I'm okay . . . it's . . . it's over there . . . behind the dumpster." The officer had to strain to hear her trembling
voice. She pointed to the bushes, and then walked away to collapse on a bench.

Willow watched the young policeman walk away. She knew that she probably should give him more warning but the thick
cloak of shock surrounding her made it hard to act. Willow was numb, and the world seemed very distant. She felt cold
-- the bright sunshine didn't touch her. Willow knew what shock felt like; she'd been in shock after her first death.
But this shock was deeper and more profound. Willow's first death had been quick, with surprisingly little pain. She
knew that the person behind the dumpster hadn't been given the luxury of a quick death, and her mind and soul recoiled
from the unwanted knowledge. After a moment the policeman lurched back out of the bushes, his face green. He stumbled
to his patrol car and called for help, a lot of help, and then he got violently sick.

Within a few minutes the campus police arrived in force. Homicide detectives arrived shortly after. Students began to
stop and watch the commotion. A crowd began to surround the bushes although a few of the closest grimaced and backed
away from the smell, suddenly unsure they wanted to know what was going on. No one noticed the young woman who slipped
away in the confusion, slightly pale and unsteady on her feet.

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Angel turned and made another circuit around the open first floor automatically avoiding the thin slivers of sunlight
that slated in between the custom made shutters covering all the windows. The vampire had been pacing for fifteen
minutes. Willow had called from the library to say that she was on her way home. The library was only a short drive,
and it'd been well over a half-hour since her call --- so Angel was pacing.

Cassandra looked up from the computer, "I'm sure she's fine. She probably just forgot that she needed to stop
somewhere."

Angel ignored her and continued to pace.

"Cassandra is right," Giles agreed, closing the book he was skimming. "It's broad daylight out, and none of us has
heard anything about there being another Immortal in town. Willow's fine." Things had been quiet for a few weeks,
except the normal vampires, and Giles was not at his most alert.

Angel glared at the Watcher; "She's late." <She always calls if she gets delayed. > On one level Angel knew that Willow
could take care of herself. He should know --- he had been her trainer, but his heart wasn't willing to accept this
reassuring information. The knowledge of her competence was buried by the need to keep Willow safe. His heart didn't
want her to need to be able to defend herself. What made it really hard for Angel was his inability to be with her in
daylight. It left Willow's back unprotected. Angel forced himself to sit down. Willow was happy being able to defend
herself; his urge to be overprotective would only tear apart their new relationship. He knew this but couldn't seem to
act on it.

They were taking their new relationship slowly. Willow had a lot to deal with, between adjusting to being Immortal and
training her magic ability. Angel was still getting used to the absence of the demon, although it was happy adjustment.
All in all they had enough to worry about without jumping into a serious relationship. They were friends, and they were
in love. Willow and Angel spent a lot of time kissing . . . a lot of time, and for now that was enough. Plus, having
Cassandra living with them was a bit like being chaperoned.

The vampire nearly flew out of the chair when a key turned in the lock and the door opened. Then, concerned, he rushed
over to Willow. Giles glanced over briefly and mumbled, "Hello, Willow," then returned to his reading. Cass looked up
and sketched a half wave before returning her attention the computer monitor. Then her head jerked back up, and she
looked at her student more carefully.

Still pale, Willow shivered uncontrollably as she walked over to the chair nearest the door. She sat slowly -
carefully. Angel hovered over her with worried look on his face.

"We've got trouble," Willow said softly, her voice only a whisper. Giles looked over at her, alarmed.

"What kind of trouble?" Cassandra asked.

"A new demon. Large claws." Willow took a deep breath. "I found a body behind a dumpster at school. It was in really
bad shape . . . I got sick." In a flat voice Willow described what had been done to the person, including the fact that
she couldn't tell whether the person had been male or female. Giles and Cassandra both grew rather pale. Angel wrapped
his arms around Willow, pulling the shaking young woman close and stroking her hair soothingly. "I think they'll have
to use dental records to identify -- whoever it was. I need something to write on." Cassandra grabbed a pad of paper
and a pencil off the desk. Willow carefully drew a complex arrangement of circles, her slender hand trembling. "This
was burned onto his . . . her . . . forehead and hands, at least on the hand I saw. There were some other random burn
marks"

"Burned?" Giles looked baffled.

"Yeah, like it was done with a laser."

Cassandra looked at Angel, "Take her upstairs and sit with her. She's in deep shock. Wrap her in a blanket or
something. "

"I'll make her some tea," Giles muttered, concern deeply etched on his face. Even with all the Hellmouth had thrown at
the redhead, the Watcher had never seen her in such a strong state of shock.

"No, the tea's a good idea, but I'll get it. You start researching that symbol," Cassandra stated, "and call Buffy.
Judging by Willow's reaction, I think she'd better be prepared for what she might run across during patrol. She's used
to her corpses being somewhat . . . neater."

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By midnight Willow was doing better and had managed to get her hands to stop shaking. Her brain had also resumed
functioning. After sitting and drinking an enormous amount of hot tea, she and Angel had spent an hour in sword
practice. The exercise helped her burn off the rest of the shock. Willow had a feeling that she would never forget what
she had seen though; you just don't forget things that bad. The entire group pitched into the research effort, but
found nothing.

"Nothing here. " Buffy tossed aside the book she'd been reading. "I've got to go patrol some more. It was
come-out-and-play night for the vamps earlier." Giles winced as the 200-year-old book she'd been skimming bounced off
the couch and dropped to the floor.

"Be careful. If you see this thing, remember that it has very dangerous claws," Giles said.

Do you want me to come with?" Willow queried.

"No thanks; I need you on the computer. I'm working blind with this thing."

"Okay," Willow agreed but threw a pointed and eloquent glance at Angel. He rolled his eyes then volunteered. Since
Buffy had tentatively approached Willow, treating her as equal, the two girls had rebuilt a strong friendship. Angel
was not particularly interested in spending time with the Slayer but would do so for Willow. Buffy protested, but
Willow overruled her with Giles' support. "You need to have back up. You're right that we don't know enough about this
demon, and the vamps were heavy when you were out earlier."

But Angel and Buffy saw nothing unusual during the patrol, just vampires. The next body was found three days later
behind a grocery store. Police labeled it a wild dog attack. Cassandra just rolled her eyes at the antipathy the
Sunnydale police force had for reality. The victim's wallet was found nearby; the family had the body quickly cremated.

Two weeks later they got a lucky break; Buffy found the body first. She managed to not get sick and called Giles and
Cassandra.

"It's over here." The Slayer looked distinctly green and her lips were pressed together in a tense line.

"Why don't you and Willow stay over there? I'm the one who needs to look," Cassandra said sympathetically. Cassandra
and Angel walked quickly over behind the mossy crypt that Buffy had indicated. Giles followed them, then quickly
returned, looking gray-green.

"I think I - I will w-wait here . . . as well," He stated. Buffy and Willow didn't say anything, and both young women
gave him small sympathetic smiles.

Seven long minutes later Cass returned from her examination of the body. Her face was gray, rigid as a stone carving.
Angel was equally grim. She gestured to the others, and they quickly left the cemetery. The vampire walked next to
Willow, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. The witch leaned into the embrace, wanting the comfort. No matter how she
tried she couldn't forget the victim that she had seen.

Cassandra began to speak, "The victim was drained of its soul. That's why the demon puts so much effort into torturing
them. It's loosening the body's hold on the soul; the symbols must be the final part of the ritual to consume the soul.
How they're burnt in I don't know. I think it may also be feeding on the fear and the pain. The area was full of magic
afterimages and residue --- that's a lot of what caused that deep shock, Willow -- you picked up on what the victim was
feeling. I have no idea what kind of demon this is; I simply have never seen or heard of anything like it. We're just
going to have keep researching it." Cassandra's voice was sharp. Examining the body had clearly been very difficult.
She was trying to hide it, but the condition of the body had upset her deeply.

They stopped at a payphone on the way to the car. Angel made a brief call to the police, disguising his voice, to alert
them to the new victim.
 

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