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Part 3

"Are you *sure* about this?" Cordelia demanded, even as she slipped Angel's robe over the arms and back of the still-oblivious redhead the blindfolded vampire was holding upright. "Turn her around..." She drew the robe tight around Willow's pale skin, and belted it firmly. "There," Cordelia sighed, "She's dressed... or as dressed as she's gonna get for *now*..."

Angel sighed himself, pulling the bit of cotton from his eyes after shifting Willow's limp form to one arm. He would have been both amused and annoyed that his Seer hadn't been willing to let him into his own room until he'd agreed to that particular measure to preserve the girl's modesty, but at the moment he was just too glad to finally have her off the floor. "No, I'm *not* sure, Cordy, but *Wesley* is, and he's our best bet right now." He smiled slightly and carried the 'sleeping' witch to his bed, placing her gently against the sheets and covering her lightly. He stretched out one long arm and dragged the nearest chair even closer to the bed. "The spell combined with the demon's blood at just the wrong time and..." he sighed again, folding his long body into the fairly comfortable chair, "She's living in her nightmares until we find a way to get her out..."

Fred stared at him, confused, and stared more at Cordelia when she nodded. "She's not," she said softly, finally approaching the bed. She rested one tentative hand on Angel's shoulder, and shivered, unused to touching people after all her time in that demon world. Still, she told herself, even if she *was* only dreaming this world she was in now, she might as well enjoy it. It had been that very thought-- the first time she'd had it-- that convinced her that Angel was wrong... and Wesley, too, apparently. "She may be living in her dreams, but they're not nightmares..."

"Fred...?" Angel said softly, well aware of how skittish the recently rescued woman could be, "Why do you say that? I mean, Wes' book says..."

"No," she insisted, trembling slightly, "Wherever she is, it isn't a *bad* place..." She turned her eyes to Cordelia, more comfortable with the girl than any of the rest, especially after having spent the last week in her company. "I know what the man said," she explained, hands entwined in front of her, "But... she's smiling a little. That means it's not a *bad* place..."

The Seer almost ignored her new friend's words, but... Ultimately, it had been *Fred* who had gotten them all home, so maybe it wouldn't be smart to brush her off. Her own eyes moved quickly to Willow's face, and after a moment, she saw what the physicist had been talking about. There *was* just the bare edge of a sweet, almost sly smile playing at the corners of the redhead's mouth. "Angel," she finally said, after a few more moments of just... watching, "I think she's right. Willow's *smiling*, and..." Sudden inspiration struck her. "You're a vampire; you should be able to smell fear! Does she smell *scared* to you?"
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Oh, my..." Wesley muttered, eyes flicking back and forth between the two books in front of him. One of them was, of course, the spell book Willow had used, while the other was the reference work with the information on the Traffies. "Oh, *my*..." he said again, "Yes, that would *explain* it! But how on *earth*..."

"What, Wes?" Angel demanded, his hand slapping down across the text the man was reading so voraciously, "*What* would explain it?" He almost hated to interrupt his friend's mental processes, but he needed some *answers*, and *right* *away*! They didn't know how long the little redhead could last, whether she was trapped in dreams *or* nightmares! He moved his hand at the former watcher's baleful stare, and sighed, crossing his arms. "What did you *find*, Wesley?" he tried, his patience wearing thin.

"It's fascinating, really," he began, looking again at the books, "Although perhaps not to you," he admitted when he heard the slight growl emerging from the vampire's lips. "Alright. The spell she did was supposed to be done during the waxing moon, but the moon was *waning* when she performed it! Now, ordinarily, that would be a *very* bad idea, as it causes most of the power for the spell to come directly from the witch-- in this case, Miss Rosenberg."

"Wes," Angel broke in, "You've seen her naked. I think you can call her Willow." He carefully hid his grin at the much younger man's blush.

"I... I never... I didn't look! I didn't see her..." His voice thickened slightly, and he closed his eyes. "I didn't see her soft, pale skin... gently curved hips... her small, yet perfectly adequate..."

"Wesley!" Cordelia shrieked from the office doorway, "You are such a perv! Just wait 'til Willow wakes up and I tell her you were playing Peeping Watcher while she was passed out!"

"I didn't... I mean..." He stood suddenly, before sitting back down just as quickly. "She was *naked*, and I am a *man*, after all!"

"Okay, guys," Angel broke in, "Enough. What does the moon have to do with this?"

"Ewww, I can't believe you guys are talking about her ass!" Cordelia continued, undeterred. "That's just *wrong*, in so many ways!"

"Cordelia." the vampire almost growled. "We're *talking*," he said, very precisely, "About the *moon*. You know-- that big, white ball in the sky at night? Now drag your mind out of the gutter, and if you can't *help*, then *get* *out*!"

"Ooooh... the *moon*... right..." the brunette mumbled, and "Sorry." as she sat down on the couch.

"Yes," Wesley said, grasping hold of the chance to drag himself from the uncomfortable position he'd gotten himself into, "The *moon*. So it was waning when she did the spell, which means that she was more drained than she probably would have expected... And honestly, she must be a very powerful witch to have pulled it off and still be alive! But in any case... She was vulnerable." He glanced at his friends, glad to see they were following his meaning. "And then the demon. Now, I think a combination of all the different factors came into play. The moon waning, her lack of energy, *and* the blood. I'm not entirely certain, but... I believe that what might have happened is..."

"Well?" Cordelia demanded hotly, sitting forward on the edge of the couch when he paused, "Out with it! We don't know how much time she's *got*!"

"I think the phase of the moon combined with her good intent, and the effect of the demon's blood was somehow... altered. If she's *not* having nightmares, then I can't see any other explanation." He glanced at Angel, hoping what he'd said had made sense, and was relieved to see the vampire nodding thoughtfully.

"She's definitely not having *nightmares*," the souled-one said softly, remembering what he'd smelled coming from the unconscious girl upstairs. Once again, he would have blushed if he had the ability. "*Definitely* not nightmares..." he repeated, mostly to himself.

"What exactly *is* she having, then, Angel?" Wesley asked, curious as to what might have made the much older man so uncomfortable. His eyes widened at the response he got. "Oh... oh, I *see*..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It had taken only a matter of hours to speak with Giles, update him on the apparent developments, and meet Willow's girlfriend at the bus station. Now the five members of the Angel Investigations team stood silently in Angel's bedroom watching the blonde and the redhead laying on the bed.

Angel couldn't figure out why Willow had chosen a lover who was just as introverted as *she* was, although he had to admit that the girl-- Tara-- was attractive enough. She seemed to be even more shy than he remembered the hacker as being. Ah, well, he told himself, as long as they were happy. And fortunately, the little blonde seemed to be a witch of some ability. Of course, she'd have to be, to have attempted the spell which appeared to be working...

Wesley was relieved that this Tara girl had been able to relax somewhat around him. It had made cobbling together their very careful spell that much easier. He was still worried, of course, but... The blonde witch *seemed* to have joined Willow in the dream-state, and if the dreams the redhead was having were anything like what Angel *thought* they were, then there was a very good chance that the appearance of her *actual* lover-- in a space occupied only by the imaginary version of that same girl-- would draw Willow closer to wakefulness, if not entirely there. He glanced quickly at Cordelia and Gunn, glad to see that they were just as alert and ready to intervene as *he* was, even if they *didn't* fully understand what was going on.

"This is bad..." Fred whispered to herself, not sure of just how she knew, but certain of it nonetheless, "It's very, very bad..." It was an instinct she'd learned to listen to while in that other dimension, so she didn't see any reason she should ignore it now. The feelings had never been wrong before, and something told her that whatever was happening in the minds of the two sleeping girls wasn't quite what the others thought. Her hands flew to cover her eyes as the blonde suddenly jerked and leapt from the bed.

She'd thought she'd known her lover. She'd thought she had her heart, just as Willow had hers. The tears rolled swiftly down Tara's face as she finally accepted that she'd been *wrong*. Her heartbroken face passed quickly over the people in the room, coming to rest, with a glare of hatred, on Angel. "I'm n-n-not the one who c-c-can h-h-h-help her," she said softly, voice breaking even as she cursed herself for stuttering. She could see the lack of comprehension on his face, and it only made the tears fall harder as she ran past him and down the hall.

"What the *hell*...?" Angel said softly, stunned immobile.

"I'll go after her," Wesley announced, quickly chasing after the obviously troubled girl.

Cordelia sighed loudly. "Well, *that* did a lot of good." "What?" she demanded, when the others stared at her, "It sure didn't *help* any!" She nodded purely to herself when the observation was met with silence.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"I'm sorry, Angel," Wes said unhappily, "She was already gone by the time I reached the street."

Angel shook his head, almost despairing. "So we have no idea of what she meant. Just that she can't help. That's just... great." He sighed, running his thick fingers through his hair. "So what do we do now, Wes? We can't just..." He sighed again.

Wesley nodded, remembering the quiet, terribly brilliant girl he'd known so briefly in Sunnydale. "We'll find *something*, Angel," he promised, sincerely hoping he was right, "But not tonight. The others have gone home already, so..."

"Yes," the vampire said quietly, "You should go, too. Get some rest. We'll see what we can figure out tomorrow." His mumbled 'good-night' echoed the former watcher's, but he wasn't really paying attention any longer. No, he was thinking about the way Willow's girlfriend had looked at him after she'd woken up, and he wondered... What if he'd been wrong? What if she *was* having nightmares, only... about *Angelus*? He was well aware of the fact that his demon was *more* than capable of making even a horrifying experience seem exciting... and that thought scared him more than he liked. Just the thought of sweet, shy Willow in the clutches of his demonic half-- even in a *dream*-- was terrifying. He was almost entirely convinced that that was the cause of the blonde's hate-filled glare, but... Maybe *he* could pull the little witch out of her slumber? Maybe if *he* did the spell Tara had done, while wearing his true face... Yes, he decided. That was what he'd do. He moved into Wes' office, and found the handwritten spell exactly where he'd seen it last, and snatching it up, he headed for the stairs. Even if he was wrong, at least he'd find out what was plaguing her in dream-land.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She had no idea of how she'd ended up where she was. Everything seemed like one big blur. She'd thought, at first, that she must have mucked up some spell or other, but that was ridiculous. She didn't mis-cast any more, and hadn't for quite a while. Still, while the majority of her was caught up in a slew of... sensations... a small part of her *wondered*.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He found himself in a mist-filled hallway, surrounded by an echoing silence. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Of course, he reminded himself, that made sense, because he was dreaming. But he was supposed to be in *Willow's* dream. He stood there for he didn't know *how* long, wondering what he'd done wrong, only to jump when he felt the small, warm hand on his arm. He spun with a low growl, only to find himself looking at the same girl who'd run from the hotel earlier. "Tara...?"

The girl nodded, then shook her head. "Yes and no, Warrior," her voice echoed, "I am a small part of the sleeping Tara's psyche... the part which accepts what she saw here."

Angel glanced about him again, finding only the same misty, featureless hall. "Which I'm guessing was something other than *this*. What did you... she... see?" he asked, afraid that he already knew the answer.

"She saw the truth she had blinded herself to, although *I* was always aware of it. Be very sure you really want to know, Warrior, for the truth cannot be disavowed once it is known..."

"I *need* to know," he answered immediately, "I have to help Willow."

The blonde's form flickered for a moment before becoming solid once more. "There is a saying, Warrior, that the truth shall set you free." She gazed consideringly at the vampire, as if weighing him somehow. "I'm not entirely sure that that is true in this case, but... *See*." she said, gesturing lightly as both she and the hallway disappeared. "You were warned..." her disembodied voice echoed, then faded to nothing.

Angel shrugged in confusion, wondering just what the 'portion of Tara' could have meant, but he pushed the question to the back of his mind as he started to walk into the deepening mist. He *would* help the redhead to whom he owed his soul, and his existence; *that* much he knew. And if she was trapped in nightmares of Angelus...? Well, he'd pull her out of them and make it up to her later.
 

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