~Part 1~

Lorne stepped into the ally behind his club to clear the psychic cobwebs.  It seemed as if everybody and their third cousin's ex-girlfriend's best friend's sister was looking for a reading tonight.  The night air behind the club usually helped him refocus, but not tonight.  As soon as he opened the door he was hit in the face with a plethora of emotions.  Someone near by was broad casting on a massive scale.  Pain, fear, anger.  It all rushed at him.

He took a deep breath as he tried to increase his mental shields.  Once the emotions weren't bombarding him he could hear the frightened sobs coming from behind the dumpster.  Lorne moved cautiously towards the sound.  Who ever it was she needed help and he didn't want to scare her.  "Hello?" he called quietly.  The sobs silenced, but the fear increased along with the panic.  "I'm not going to hurt you," he said as he rounded the dumpster.

He found the poor thing curled into a fetal position, trying to bury herself into the brick wall.  He knelt down in front of her.  Her dirty hair hung in her face.  Her cheek bones cut like razors against her thin face.  The only part of her that didn't look like skin and bones was her stomach.  It swelled greatly with her unborn child.  She stared up at him with bright green eyes, shiny from unshed tears.  She didn't seem phased by his appearance so she must have seen demons before.

"My name is Lorne," he introduced himself in a gentle voice.  "I just want to help you."

She shook her head.  "No one can help," she replied with a dejected voice.

"I know you're afraid.  You don't have to be afraid of me.  Why don't we go inside?  We can get you something to eat," he suggested.

She shook her head violently.  "No.  They'll find...have to hide," she whispered.

"You're hungry.  I'll go get you something to eat. Will you stay here?  I promise no one will hurt you."

She stared at him unsure of his promise.  He seemed nice and trustworthy, but so had some of the others. Still she was hungry.  She couldn't remember when she ate last.  She needed her strength.  Slowly, she nodded her head.

"I'll be right back," Lorne said as he got to his feet.

He entered the club and motioned to Karz, the bartender.  "Call Angel and tell him to get here quickly.  Send him back into the alley when he gets
here," he instructed before heading to the kitchen. He grabbed a variety of food and a couple bottles of water.  Setting everything on the counter, Lorne rushed into his bedroom for a blanket.

****

Cordelia gently scrubbed the stain on her silk blouse. "You would think that after doing this for three years I would know exactly how to get demon goo out of silk," she said.

Fred twisted her long wavy hair into braids while she watched Cordy examine the stain.  "Maybe you could ask Heloise?  She has lots of useful tips for cleaning stuff," she suggested.  "Or maybe we should get the demons to give us a thirty minute warning before attacking.  That way we can change into those coveralls like janitors wear."

"Eww.  I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those," Cordy replied with a sneer.  She gave a frustrated sigh as she tossed the tooth brush in the garbage bin beneath the counter followed by the blouse.

The hotel front door opened and a familiar figure entered.  He looked around for a second before striding to the counter where Cordy and Fred sat.
Cordy backed up a couple of steps.  "Where is he?"

"Spike," Cordy said.  "What do you want?"

"I want Angel.  Where is he?"

"Angel stepped out, but maybe we can help you," Fred said trying to be helpful.

Spike turned towards the stranger.  "Who are you? Nevermind.  I need to see Angel.  Where did he go?"

"Out," Cordy said.  "What do you want with Angel?" She knew that the blonde vampire had been helping the Sunnydale gang, but she couldn't easily forget the torture he'd put Angel through a couple of years ago.

"I want to hire the bastard," he growled in frustration.

"Why?"

"Willow's missing," he snapped.

Wesley set his book on the table and came forward. "Willow's missing?  For how long?" he asked.

Spike ran his hands through his already messed up hair.  "About a week, I think?"

"You think?" Cordy asked.  "Doesn't anyone pay attention to her?"

"Shut up, you stupid bint," he mumbled.  "She went on an errand for the Watcher.  She didn't come back."

"What kind of errand was she doing?" Wesley asked.

Spike pulled his cigarettes from his pocket.  "She was supposed to get some books for him.  I remember something about a monistary for zebras."  Wesley tried to remember why that sounded familiar.

"What? Are the monks too cheep to pay the phone bill?" Cordy asked.

"I think it might conflicet with their vows of poverty and all that junk," Gunn suggested.

****

She huddled in the corner.  Her hands rubbed circles over her round belly.  Maybe she shouldn't have trusted him.  He was going to get them.  They would come and take her away.  She started to push herself to her feet when the door opened.  She saw Lorne, his arms laden with food and a blanket.  He was alone. She settled back down on her cold tailbone.

Lorne was glad to see she was still there.  He set the plate on the ground and unfolded the wool blanket.  He wrapped it around her frail shoulders.  "I thought you might be cold,' he said.  He smiled as she pulled it around her.  Her eyes were riveted to the plate of food.  He picked it up and handed it to her.  "If you haven't eaten in a while you might want to take it slow at first."

She lifted the warm roll to her lips and bit into the soft chewy bread.  It could have been stale and moldy and she still would have found it manna from heaven. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he replied.  He settled on the ground across from her, grimacing slightly at what the wet dirty alley was doing to his suit.  He watched her eat slowly, relishing every morsel.  When her weak hands couldn't break the seal, he twisted the top off the bottled water.  They sat together in silence for half an hour before the back door opened again.

"Lorne!"

Startled, she dropped the plate and tried to get to her feet.  The child in her belly made her awkward and slow.

Lorne reached out and tried to steady her.  "It's okay.  It's just a friend," he said gently.

Angel found Lorne sitting on the ground by the dumpster.  He couldn't see who he was talking to, but realized that if the host was willing to dirty his
suit it was for a good cause.  He walked slowly until he could see who was hiding.  His deep brown eyes widened in surprise.  "Willow?"

Lorne glance up at the vampire.  "You know her?"

Angel knelt beside the barely recognizable girl.  He reached out a hand to touch her dirty face.  She pulled away in fear.  "Willow.  It's Angel.  Do you remember me?"  He noticed her swollen stomach.  "What happened?"

"You got me, pal.  I came outside to clear my head and found her huddled here broadcasting like New Year's Eve in Times Square."

Angel returned his attention to Willow.  She looked older, more worn.  Her eyes seemed to hold a glimmer of recognition.  He waited patiently for her to make the first move.  He didn't know what she'd been through, but whatever it was he was here for her now.

"Angel?" she asked hesitantly.  He nodded with an encouraging grin.  "You won't let them take my baby? You won't let them hurt Willow anymore? You help the helpless, right?"

"That's my job.  I won't let anyone hurt you or take your baby," he promised.

The tension eased from her shoulders and she felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in a year.  She gave her stomach a reassuring rub.  "Safe," she whispered.  The baby inside returned the rub with a sound kick.

Angel and Lorne pulled her to her feet.  They both noticed the bloody cuts and dirt caked on her feet. "Let's get you home," Angel said.  He gave a nod of thanks to the demon that had helped him so many times before.  "I owe you."

He shrugged it off.  "Just take care of her.  I have the feeling she's important in the scheme of things." Willow started to remove the blanket to return it. "Keep it, honey.  I've got more."

****

Angel turned towards the sleeping lump beside him. "Willow," he called softly.  He wanted to wake her, but didn't want to scare her.  Gently, he shook her shoulder.  "Time to wake up.  We're home."

She opened her eyes disoriented, not sure of where she was, if she was safe.  She curled her fingers around the blanket.  Blanket.  Lorne.  Angel.  Safe.   She sat up and saw Angel smiling at her.  She looked out the window.  They were in a parking garage.  "Home?" she asked.

"Yes, we're home," he answered.  He opened the car door and stepped outside.  He spotted Gunn's truck and Wesley's car in their usual spots.  When he realized Willow remained in the car, he walked around to her side and opened the door.  She stared at the open door blankly.  He held out his hand and waited.  "It's okay.  You're safe here."

Slowly, she extended her hand.  As his fingers curled around hers she gathered her courage and stepped out of the car.  "Safe," she muttered.

Angel let her set the pace as they walked towards the hotel.  He paused before the door.  "Willow.  You're safe here.  No one will hurt you.  There are others inside.  I don't want you to be afraid."

"Be brave," she told herself.

He smiled.  "Wesley and Cordelia are here.  You remember them, don't you?" he asked.  She nodded.  "My other friends, Gunn and Fred, are here too.  They won't hurt you."

Placing a protective hand over her belly, she bit her lip.  "Okay."
 

~Part 2~

Fred watched the blonde vampire pace back and forth across the lobby. She was intrigued by him.  She understood that vampires in general were
evil monsters because of the demon and Angel was good because he had a soul, but she couldn't quite figure out what motivated Spike.  Cordelia
had explained about the chip implanted in his head, but that only stopped him from physically harming humans.  *It wouldn't change his personality, would it?* she asked herself.  Of course, she'd never met Spike before the implant so maybe he wasn't such a bad guy way down deep.

Spike could feel the girl's eyes staring at him.  He looked up and glared at her.  She responded with a shy grin before turning nervously back to her book.  "Where the bloody hell is he?" he snapped at Cordelia.

The beautiful brunette sighed.  "We haven't fitted him with a damn tracking collar yet so I have no idea," she retorted.

Fred lifted her head as the idea took shape.  "I could make one of those," she muttered to herself.  She grabbed the pad of paper she kept handy for such ideas and began to sketch out a plan.  "I'd just need a transponder.  It shouldn't be hard to find."  She continued to mutter to herself as the others ignored her.

The door to the underground garage opened and Angel entered the hotel lobby.  He kept his arm around the quaking girl beside him.

Spike turned on his heel.  His eyes were instantly drawn to her. "Willow?" he said unsure.

She looked up at her name.  She tried to pull away as the group of people drew closer.  Angel held her tight to his side.  "It's okay," he
reassured her.

"Where have you been all week?" Spike asked.  "We've been worried sick."

Angel stared at him in shock for a moment.  "Did you say a week?" he asked.

"Yeah, what of it?" he asked.

Angel gently pulled aside a corner of Willow's blanket revealing her swollen belly.

Cordy's jaw dropped in shock.  "How come no one told me Willow was pregnant?"

Spike's hand reached out automatically to touch it, but Willow jumped back with a shriek.  "No hurt Willow's baby," she cried as she tried to cover herself with her arms.

Angel stepped in front of her to block her sight of the others.  "No one's going to hurt your baby, Willow," he said gently.

She nodded.  "You promised.  Willow safe."

"That's right."  He glanced over his shoulder for a moment.  "Fred, will you take Willow up stairs and find her a room, please?"

She stepped forward.  "Oh, sure.  I can do that," she answered softly.

Angel caressed Willow's cheek.  "Go with Fred, Willow.  She'll take care of you, okay?"

She examined the thin woman closely.  She was still so afraid.  She looked into her smiling eyes and gave a lop-sided grin in return. "Smiley eyes," she said.

Fred smiled and held out her hand.  "Thank you.  You have pretty eyes, too.  I'll bet you don't have to wear glasses.  I have to wear them for
reading."   Willow put her hand in Fred's and followed her up the staircase.  "Of course, I read a lot so I'm usually wearing them.  I seem to have misplaced them today, but I'm sure they'll turn up sooner or later," she rambled.

The group waited until they could no longer hear Fred's constant rambling before they broke out in questions.

"What happened?"

"Where did you find her?"

"Why didn't someone tell me Willow was pregnant?"

"What's with the lack of personal pronouns?"  Everyone looked at Gunn. "What?  It's weird."

The dark vampire shook his head.  "I have no idea what happened.  Lorne found her in the alley behind the club.  He called me to help.  Spike, what happened?"

The blonde vampire sat on the circular couch in shock.  "She's only been missing a week," he said running his hands through his hair.  "She was supposed to collect some books from the zebra monks for the Watcher and never came back."

"Zebra monks?" Angel asked.

"Z'bara monks," Wesley corrected.  "I called Giles to confirm this. They are a completely peaceful order.  Giles received a message from them that she never showed up."

"Okay, what about the baby?" Cordy asked.

"She wasn't pregnant before she left," Spike said.

"How can she be that far along in a week?" Gunn asked.

"It's possible," Cordy said.  "If it's a demon baby."  Gunn gave her a doubtful look. "Personal experience and I don't want to talk about it."

"We're not going to find out much until we can talk to Willow," Angel said.

Cordy grabbed her purse from beneath the counter.  "She's going to need some clothes.  I'll see if I can dig up those overalls," she said.

****

Fred led Willow to the room next to hers.  "You can use this room, Willow.  That's such a pretty name.  My real name is Winifred, but everyone just calls me Fred."  She watched the dirty red head cautiously examine the simple room.  Not sure what to do she continued to talk.  "Cordelia said you were really smart.  I have a degree in physics.  Of course, I don't do much with it now, but I've learned there are more important things to study."

"Demons, vampires, things that go bump in the night," Willow muttered as she opened a door.

"Exactly.  That's the bathroom.  If you want you can take a bath," she said as a strong suggestion.  She didn't want to say anything, but the poor girl smelled.

Willow stepped into the bathroom.  The white tiles were cold against her bare feet.  She looked down, but couldn't see passed her stomach. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.  Looking up she saw a stranger staring back at her.  Startled, she jumped back.  The stranger jumped back as well.  Her eyes widened in surprise.  The stranger was her reflection.  She touched her face.  "Been so long," she whispered.

"If you want I can get you some bubble bath and soap," Fred said.

Slowly, Willow nodded.

"I'll be right back."  Fred hurried to her bathroom and grabbed the plastic container she stored her shower things in and grabbed a couple of towels.  When she returned to Willow's bathroom, she found her standing naked.  The blanket was folded neatly on the counter while the shift she had been wearing was tossed into a corner.  She cleared her throat to announce her presence.

Startled, the red head tried to cover herself.

"I brought my bath stuff," Fred said.  She set the box on the floor and pulled out a plastic bottle.  Removing the lid she held it out to her. "Smell."

Willow brought the bottle to her nose.  "Pretty."

"Wesley got it for me for my birthday," she said proudly.  Willow handed it back promptly.  "Oh, that's okay.  You can use it.  Let me get your bath started."  She turned on the faucet and began filling the tub.  She added a generous amount of the bubble bath.  "Is this too hot?" she asked.

Willow reached a hand out and touched the water pouring into the tub. "Hot water."

"Too hot?"

"No."

"Good."  Fred pulled a few more bottles from her box.  "Shampoo, conditioner, body wash," she listed as she lined them up.  "Do you need any help?"

"No."  Fred stood and walked to the door.  "Thank you," Willow said.

"You're welcome."

****

"How is she?" Spike asked when he saw Fred.

"Okay.  She's taking a bath.  I think she's going to need some clothes though," she said.

Wesley tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.  "Cordelia went to find some for her."

She picked up her sketch of the tracking devise. Turning the page she began to draw.  When she was finished, she handed it to Wesley.  "Have
you seen this before?" she asked.

He looked at the design she'd drawn.  "It looks familiar, but I'm not sure were I'd seen it before," he said.  "Why?"  He handed the picture to Gunn.

"I saw it on Willow's arm."

"A tattoo?" Gunn asked.

"No.  It looked like it had been branded into her arm.  Like a cow," she explained.

Before anyone could stop him, Spike bolted up the stairs.
 

~Part 3~

Spike paused on the landing.  He wasn't sure which room Fred put Willow in, but inhaling deeply he followed the familiar scent.  He pushed open
doors until he finally heard water splashing.  Standing in the bathroom doorway, he watched her.  His eyes hurt at the sight of her body.  Her
collar bone protruded and he could make out each of her ribs.  She reached up to scratch her head and he remembered what set him running up the stairs in the first place.  He entered the bathroom and grabbed her arm.

Lost in her own little world, Willow shrieked when someone took a hold of her arm.  Looking up she saw Spike.  Her racing heart slowed as she
smiled at him.  She crossed her free arm over her breasts out of some remembrance of modesty.

"Please, don't be afraid of me," he said softly as his fingers pushed matted tendrils of hair from her face.

She pulled her arm from his hand.  "Willow dirty," she whispered.

Fingering her greasy hair, he smiled.  "Yes, I suppose you could use a little soap."  He picked up the bottle of shampoo from the side of the tub.  "Let me help you."  When she nodded, he poured the flowery gel into his hand and started to massage it into her hair.

She sighed as he shampooed her hair and picked the nail brush to scrub the dirt from her hands.

"Where did you get that mark?" he asked.

Willow glanced at the scar on her arm.  Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the pain.  Hs whimpered as she turned her arm so she couldn't see it.

"What does it mean?" he asked, but she only shook her head.  Her agitation began to grow.  "Shh.  It's okay," he said.  He used his short nails to dig the lather into her scalp.  She sighed at the comforting sensation.  "Where have you been?" he asked trying to find some answers.

"Bad place," she said fiercely, scrubbing harder on her nails.  "Wanted to go home.  Wanted to find you.' Willow looked up at the man who unknowingly saved her sanity.

"I wanted to find you, too, luv.  We tried looking for you."  Her expressive eyes held so much hope and joy yet underneath it all was pain and fear.  Spike found a cup and poured water over her head to rinse the suds from her hair.  "How did you get there, to the bad place?" he asked.

"The moving doorway."  Willow leaned her head back and closed her eyes as the warm water cascaded over her hair and back.

Her hair was so knotted and tangled, Spike wasn't sure how they would comb it.  She dropped the nail brush into the tub and reached for the bath scrubby.  After she covered it with body wash, she attacked her arms with the foamy lather.  Spike poured a palm full of conditioner onto her hair.  Retrieving a comb he tried to de-tangle the knots in her hair.

Silently, he worked on her hair as hundreds of questions raced through his brain.  She scrubbed her body.  He was almost finished when he realized she was shivering in the cold bath water.  He reached into the water and pulled the stopper.  "Stand up and we'll rinse you off with the shower," he said grasping her elbow.

Willow stood and watched the water disappear around her feet.  Dirt streaked on the white porcelain.  She stared at the dirty water swirling around the drain.  When spike turned on the shower, she jumped as the water sprayed against her.  A smile graced her face as she ducked her head beneath the warm spray.

Spike waited for her to start scrubbing her hair before closing the plastic shower curtain.  He put the various bottles back into the plastic box on the floor.  He tossed the dirty shift into the trash and wiped the water off the floor.  Draping the towels over his arm he pulled open the curtain and turned off the flow of water.  He chuckled at her disappointed frown.  Spike wrapped one terry cloth towel around her body and draped the other one over her head.  Helping her out of the tub, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to lead her to the bedroom.

He found a pair of sweats on the bed.  By the size they had to belong to Angel.  He noticed Willow eyeing them.  "I think these are for you," he said handing them over.

She held them to her face and inhaled deeply.  "Soft.  Smell good," she said.  She dropped her towel and pulled the sweatshirt over her head. The sleeves fell three inches passed her fingertips, but it was snug across her distended stomach.  Spike helped her step into the sweat pants and rolled up the cuffs so she wouldn't trip.  While she situated herself on the bed, he removed the comb he'd used earlier from his back pocket.  Moving slowly, he climbed on the bed beside her.  Gently, he combed her wet hair, working the knots and mattes remaining from her bath.

While he combed, Willow rubbed circles over her belly.  The baby turned and kicked more and more everyday.  Soon she would hold it in her arms.

"Willow," he said softly, not wanting to startle her.  "Who's the father?" he asked.

"My baby," she answered.

He reached a hand out to cover one of hers.  "But..."

"Mine," she said sharply, pulling away from his touch.

He pulled his hand back.  "Okay, yours," he relented.  He noticed her eyelids drooping from exhaustion.  He pulled back the covers for her. "I'll let you get some sleep," he said tucking her into bed.  "We'll talk later."  He kissed her forehead.

She watched the door close.  She knew he wanted answers, but so did she.  There was so much she didn't understand.  She finally allowed herself to relax and drifted off to sleep.

****

Angel paced the lobby impatiently.  He had followed Spike up the stairs to make sure Willow was safe.  Not from Spike, he knew the blonde vampire would sooner plunge a stake into his own heart tan harm the red head.  He'd promised her she would be safe even from her own fears.

He turned when he head heavy foot steps on the stairs.  He didn't say anything just watched his grandchilde.

"She's sleeping," Spike said.  He walked slowly to the counter, picked up his coat and removed his cigarettes.  No one moved while he lean against the counter and lit up a cigarette.  His elbow bumped a sign and he picked it up.  No Smoking.  With a deep growl he bent the brass plaque and fling it against the wall.

Fred flinched as she stepped closer to Wesley.

"I hope who ever did this went human so I can rip his fucking head off," he yelled.

"Did she say anything?" Wesley asked.

Spike exhaled shakily.  "I asked her where she was.  She said a bad place.  I asked how she got there.  She said there was a moving doorway.  I asked her about the baby's father.  She said it was hers," he related quietly.

Fred cleared her throat nervously.  "A doorway that moved could be a dimensional portal.  Like the one that took me to Pylia," she said. Spike gave her a confused look.  "I spent five years in a demon dimension."

"But five years passed here as well as Pylia," Gunn said.

"I spent over a hundred years in hell, but only a few months past here on Earth," Angel added.

Wesley nodded. "Different dimensions can have different time continuums," he advised.  "A week here is obviously a year when she was."

"As long as I can kill them," Spike said calmly.

"We have to find them first," Angel reminded him and placed a hand on Spike's tense shoulder.  "And we will find them."

The ringing of the phone startled them.  Gunn, being closest, picked it up.  "Angel Investigations.  We help the hopeless."    He listened for a moment before handing it to Spike. "He said his name is Xander."

Taking the receiver he turned his back to the others and spoke quietly into the phone.

****

Masqual set his crown of office upon his head.  He straightened the sash across his shoulders and brushed invisible dirt from the cuffs of his sleeve.

"His majesty will see you now, you reverence," a royal footman said, holding open the door to the throne room.

Masqual entered the massive chamber prepared to do his duty.  His eyes scanned the courtiers.  When he reached the foot of the dais, he bowed
respectfully to his majesty, King Thraus.  "Your Majesty," he said quietly.

Thraus watched the high priest carefully.  "Masqual," he started.  "I have been hearing rumors."

"Rumors, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, rumors.  Regarding the Vassal."

He paused for a moment.  "There have been many rumors about the Vassal, Your Majesty.  Which in particular have reached your royal ear?" he
asked with a chuckle.

Thraus leaned forward on his throne.  "The one that says the Vassal is missing."

Masqual laughed.  "Missing?  Hardly, Your Majesty.  The Vassal has been under my watchful eye the entire time," he replied.  "The people simply
wish to view the Vassal so when they can't the create silly rumors."

"Your king wishes to view the Vassal," Thraus stated.

"While the scripture dictate the Vassal remain in isolation, I can certainly have a viewing arranged, if you so wish," he replied easily.

"I so wish."

Masqual bowed his head.  "Then it will be done.  It is good to hear that our king is so brave and fearless," he said loud enough for the crowd to hear.  "I had prayed to the gods that our new king would not be bound by the superstition of the people."

Thraus narrowed his eyes at Masqual's words.  "Let us retire to our anti-chamber," he said quietly.  Ignoring the shocked expressions of his advisers, he rose and headed for the door to the left of his throne.  He removed the heavy crown and tossed it on a side table. "Well, brother, you are my religious adviser.  Advise me," he ordered.

"What would you like me to advise you about?" he asked.

"The scriptures.  I have not studied them as you have.  Tell me of the Vassal," he said.  He grabbed a bottle of boliska and poured himself a drink.

"The Vassal will bring the Oskilla.  The scriptures dictate the Vassal be kept in isolation until the appointed time.  The Oskilla will be the one to bring the gods to us," he explained.

"And if the Vassal is not kept in isolation?"

Masqual picked up the royal crown.  His fingers traced the crest and jewels.  But for birth he would be wearing the crown.  "It is written that the Oskilla would turn the gods against us."

"Fine.  The time will be soon, yes?"

"Another month."

Thraus took the crown from his brother's hand.  "We shall see the Vassal then."
 

~Part 4~

Masqual strod furiously into his chambers, slaming the door behind him.  He threw his travel bag at his valet, Moast before shrugging out of his cloak and letting it fall to the ground.  Moast quickly picked the coat off the highly polished floor and hung it in the closet.

The high priest poured himself a healthy dose of sacrimental wine.  "That was a completely wasted week.  My brother is an idot and a fool.  Has there been any word?"  Moast shook his head as he set about preparing a fire in the grate.  Masqual drained his glass.  "When I get my hands on that little skalbatz, she will pay dearly for this delay."

The crystal cracked under the pressure of his taloned fingers.  He watched the small fractures splinter and spread across the goblet.  With a small grin, he set the spiderwebbed glass on the table.  "After I have the Oskilla, of course.  Prepare the Questing chamber, Moast.  Her time grows near and the mark will guide me to her."

The valet unlocked a door on the far wall and began arranging the holy herbs.  Masqual disrobed and entered the chamber.  Once the burners had been lit, he motioned to Moast to leave.  "You mention a word of this," he paused as a sardonic grin crossed his face.  "But I had your tongue removed years ago, didn't I?  Never mind."

Moast bowed low to his master as he backed out of the room.  He knew a dead man told fewer tales than a mute one.

Masquel closed the door firmly and fastened the latch.  Setting the herbs to burn, he reclined on the floor.  As smoke filled the room, he relaxed his body to begin his quest.

****

Willow smiled as she stretched.  Soft blades of grass tickled her cheek as she rolled onto her side.  A soft giggle echoed around her.  She opened her eyes and sat upright.  A circlet of daisies fell into her lap.  Lifting the flowers to her nose she inhaled the sutle scent.   A bubble of laughter caught her ear.  She looked around, but only saw a forest glen.  "Where are you?" she called.  "I'm going to find you," she said with a giggle of her own.

Playfully she searched the tall grass and behind the large apple tree.   But she found nothing.  "Where are you?" she called again.  Her answer was a muffled laugh.  Willow couldn't figure out where the sound originated.  It seemed to echo from every direction.  "Come out, come out, come out where ever you are," she called.

Her concern and worry grew the longer she searched.  "Where are you?  I can't find you," she yelled frantically.  Her voice echoed back to her.  Her heart beat rapidly against her chest.  "This isn't funny anymore!"

She paused her search beside a pond.  Some movement or reflection caught her eye.  She looked into the clear water.  "What are you doing in there?" she asked.  Her hand reached into the water.

A strong familiar hand grabbed her forearm.  She screamed as she tried to pull away.  Masqual.  As she dug her feet into the ground the haunting figure rose from beneath the surface.  His left hand gripped her arm tightly and his right arm curled gently around a blanket wrapped bundle.  Willow made a desperate grab for it.  "Give me my baby!" she screamed.

Masqual dug his talons into her arm and kept her away from the baby.  "The Oskilla does not belong to you."

Willow didn't feel the talons digging into her flesh nor the blood flowing from her wounds.  "Give me my baby," she sobbed.

"You are the Vessel," he said sharply.  "Once you have produced the Oskilla, we will have no further use for you."

She pulled frantically at his grasp.  Her eyes focused solely on the bundle in his arms.

He chuckled at ehr useless struggle as his nails tore paralle gashes in her arm.  "Soon this dream will become a reality."

Tears poured from her eyes as she watched him fade into nothing...with her baby.  She fell to her knees with a heart wrenching sob.  "My baby."

****

Masqual woke from his trance.  he smiled as he licked the blood from beneath his nails.  "So you thought to go home," he said quietly.  "I tracked you down once and I'll do it again."

****

Willow woke with a start.  Her hands dropped to her stomach.  A shuttering sob echoed in the dimmly lit room when she felt the comforting kick from within.  She sniffed back her tears as she kicked off teh covers.  She had to hide, but where?  Where would she be safe?  After the baby was born, where would they be safe?
 

She knew if she stayed Masqual would find her and kill anyone who tried to protect her.  She knew her friends would do anything to keep her safe.  Her arm throbbed with pain.  She entered the bathroom and turned on the light.  Her reflection still startled her.  Shaking off the amazement of her own face, she washed the tears from her cheeks and the blood drying on her arm.

Quietly, she crept out of her room.  Faint rays of light battled the darkness.  Dawn was breaking.  Willow paused at the head of the stairs to listen.  THe hotel was quiet.  Holding onto the railing she manovered her bulky frame down the stairs a step at a time.  Her free hand pressed against the constant ache in her back.  Since the baby started to grow aches and pains had become common place in her body.

Her stomach growled loudly when she reached the lobby.  She tried to muffle the sound with her hands.  "Shh," she whispered.  She waddled to the front door and pushed.  When it didn't open, she began to panic.  She searched for a latch to turn, but only found a key hole.  Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself.  Holding a hand over the lock, Willow whispered the words to a spell she'd used long ago.  The faint click shot through the early morning quiet.

When she pushed the door again it opened easily.  Silently, she stepped outside.

Spike entered the lobby from the kitchen, a mug of O neg in his hand.  He saw the door close silently.  "Willow?" he called.  A pregnant figure tried to dart across teh courtyard.  Dropping the mug, he took chase.  Thankfully, he had his preternatural speed because despite her extra weight, she was surprisingly fast.  "Willow!" he shouted as he grabbed her arm.

She stumbled at his touch, but his hold kept her upright.  "No," she cried and tried to pull free.

Despite her struggles he held her firmly.  "Willow, stop fighting me."  As the sun's rays grew stronger, pain rippled across his exposed flesh.  "Bloody hell," he muttered.  He swept an arm under her knees and lifted her in his arms.  He kicked open the door with her struggling in his arms.  "Angel!" he shouted.  "Get your ass down here!"

"No!" Willow screamed.

Before she could hurt herself or the baby Spike set her feet on the ground.  Immediately, she tried to run for the door, but he held tightly to her sleave.  "Willow, please stop before you hurt yourself."

Still pulling at his hold, she pleaded with him.  "Please let go," she cried.  "Have to hide."

Spike heard doors upstairs open and feet racing to the lobby.  "Why?  Why do you ahve to hide, pet?" he asked.

"He's coming," she answered.  "Have to hide."

Angel, dressed only in a pair of trousers, moved behind the red head.  "What's going on?"  Fred stood by the steps clothed only in a sleep shirt.

"She's trying to run," Spike explained.

"Why?" Fred asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Still trying to figure that one out."

Angel set his hands on Willow's shoulders.  "Why are you running, Willow?"

"He's coming.  I have to hide."

"Who's coming?"  The red head shook her head.  "Willow, you're safe here.  No one's going to hurt you."

"No!  Not safe.  No place safe.  I have to hide."

Fred stepped forward.  "If no place is safe, then why be alone?" she asked.

Willow renewed her struggle.  Her sleeve slipped from Spike's grasp and she ducked under Angel's arm.  She ran towards the door, but tripped on the stairs.  She landed with a strangled cry.

"Willow!" Spike yelled as he sprinted to her side.  Sitting on the step he held her in his arms.  "Are you okay?  Did you hurt yourself?  What about the baby?" he asked quickly.   Stunned from her fall, Willow didn't answer.  "Willow, please answer me," he pleaded.

"I'm fine," she answered quietly.

He hugged her tightly, both in relief and to keep her from bolting again.  "Please don't run again," he whispered against her temple.  "I'll protect you and the baby."

She pulled back to look into his blue eyes.  "He'll kill you."  She turned her head to look at Angel and Fred.  "He'll kill everyone to get my baby."

"It won't be the first time someone tried to kill us," Fred said matter-of-factly.

"And we're still here," Angel added.

"We'll just take him out first," Spike said firmly.  "No one is going to take your baby, I swear on my life."  She seemed to relax and accept that they were not going to let her leave.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sorry for what, sweethear?" Spike asked.  His hand rubbed soothing circles against her lower back.

"For putting you in danger.  For trying to run away."

"I'm just glad you didn't get far," he replied.  She rested her head against his shoulder.

"Willow," the dark vampire said.  "Can you tell us who's trying to take your baby?"

"Masqual."

"Who or what is Masqual?"

"He's the high priest of his race."

"Why does he want your baby?" Fred asked as she took notes.

"He said my baby is the Oskilla."

"What's that?" Angel asked.

"I don' t know."

"Is he the father?" Spike asked.

"No!" she answered sharply, shaking her head violently.

"Willow, who is the father?" Angel asked.  The red head pushed herself to her feet.  Fred, Angel and Spike stood in a loose line in front of the door.  They watched her pace slowly in front of of them.  "Willow?" Angel prompted.

She stopped and looked up at the trio.  "Spike's the father."
 

~Part 5~

"Spike is the father," Willow said smiling down at her stomach. The baby sent her a joyous flutter just as Spike’s eyes rolled back into his head and hit the floor in a dead faint. Willow gasped in shock before she rushed to his side.

Dazed Angel and Fred helped Willow roll the blonde vampire onto his back. "I think he fainted," Fred said redundently. "I didn’t know vampires could faint."

"It’s not something we advertise," Angel replied distractedly. "Willow did you just say Spike is the father?"

The red head ignored him and concentrated on the unconscious man. "Spike?" she called softly. She stroked his face. In the back of her mind she knew this would be her only chance of escape. Angel wouldn’t be able to follow her with the sun growing more dominant in the early morning sky. She was certain she could out run Fred despite her pregnant induced size. But she wouldn’t leave Spike like this. No one else seemed concerned by his fainting. "Spike," she said again. "Please wake up."

Realizing he wouldn’t receive any answers until Spike was conscious. Angel slapped his grandchilde. Blue eyes popped open with a start as Angel prepared to slap him again. Spike caught Angel’s wrist. "Bugger off," he growled.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked, concerned tears filling her green eyes.

He stared at the beautiful face above him. *Pregnancy does make you glow,* he thought. Continuing to stare at her, he sat up. "Just a bit stunned, pet," he answered finally. "Did you say I’m the father?"

Willow looked down at her clasped hands. "I guess I did."

"How can Spike be the father, Willow?" Angel asked. "Vampires can’t impregnate anyone."

"I know that," she answered. She avoided their collective gaze. "It was just so dark in my cell and I was scared." Her voice began to quaver. "I didn’t understand what was happening to me so I would pretend," she said with a sniff. "I pretended that Spike and I were in love and...and..."
 

"And that Spike was the father," Fred supplied. She rubbed her hand against Willow’s back.

Willow nodded as she looked into the comforting blue eyes she imagined day after day. "I’m sorry."

Spike brushed a tear as it slipped from her sad eyes. "Don’t be sorry," he said. He pulled her into his arms as the tears began to flow.

Fred smiled at Angel over the embracing couple. "I used to pretend a lot when I lived in my cave," she explained. "It helped me remember where I came from. Not to mention it helped keep me sane," she said with a laugh. "Well, relatively sane."

Angel nodded his understanding. "But who is the father, Willow?"

"I don’t know," she sobbed. Willow knew the baby caused the hormone fluctuations in her body. Her mother had explained where baby’s came from when she was nine and the curious red head had to read everything she could find out about pregnancy. But it still upset her that she cried at the drop of a hat. "I don’t know."

Angel ran his hands through his rumpled hair in frustration. He had hoped that once Willow started talking they would find the answers they were looking for. Unfortunately, "I don’t know" seemed to be her only answer. A thought occurred to him and he hated to ask it. "Were you raped?" he asked cautiously. He ignored the glare Spike gave him.

"No," Willow answered quickly. "Or if I was I don’t remember it. Masqual seemed repulsed by me so I don’t think he would have done it if I was. The day he brought me to his world he told me that once the Oskilla was delivered he would send me home."

Fred chewed on the end of her pen. "Maybe if we knew what he looked like we could find some answers," she suggested.

Willow tried to think of how to describe him. "He looked like...Vincent."

"Who?" Spike asked.

"There was this show when I was a kid called Beauty and the Beast. The Beast was named Vincent. Only Vincent was a beautiful soul in the body of a monster. Of course now that I know what real monsters look like Vincent wasn’t that scary. Masqual was evil and ugly," she tried to explain.

"I remember that show," Fred said happily. "Vincent kind of looked like a lion. But he was a man. He had a thick mane of hair and claw like nails."

The red head pulled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Masqual has claws too."

Angel held her wrist gently as he examined he marks on her arm. "Willow, these are fresh." Reluctantly, she described her dream that sent her running this morning. "So he’s able to track you through your dreams. Did you have any dreams like that before he took you to his world?"

She shook her head negatively.

Reaching another dead end, Fred made a mark in her notes. "Willow, do you know how far along you are?" she asked. The men gave her a puzzled look. "We should figure out when your due so we can make plans for the baby."

"I didn’t have a window in my room, but I tried to count the meals that were brought to me. I think I got two meals a day, 14 a week, 56 a month, assuming four weeks in a month. I think there were about 490 meals while I was there," she said.

"So about 35, 36 weeks," Fred quickly calculated. "So your about 7 to 8 months along. Realistically, this kid could show up at any time."

"It’s been moving a lot lately. And it’s running out of room," she said. She yawned loudly as her energy quickly faded.

Angel helped Willow to her feet. "You’re exhausted. Spike, why don’t you help Willow upstairs? I’m going to make a few calls." He turned to the woman still taking notes and muttering to herself. "Fred, go back to bed."

She shook her head and headed for her laptop. "Oh, I can’t sleep now. I’ve got some research to do."

Spike held an arm around the red head as he helped her up the stairs. She stopped and turned around. "Angel," she said.

He walked to the foot of the stairs. "Yes, Willow?"

"Thank you."

He smiled up at her. "You’re welcome."

****

Cordelia entered the Hyperon Hotel’s lobby with a bounce in her step and a couple of shopping bags in her hand. She set her purse on the counter and headed upstairs to Willow’s room. She couldn’t wait to show Willow what she’d found in the maternity section of her favorite department store. She raised her hand to knock when a voice inside the room made her pause.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Spike asked.

"Harder. Use your fist," Willow ordered. "Oh, that’s perfect," she sighed.

"I don’t want to hurt the baby."

"You can’t hurt the baby from back there."

A blush bloomed across her cheeks as she started to turn away. She nearly ran over Fred carrying a tray of food. "Good morning, Cordelia."

"Morning, Fred," she mumbled.

The slender girl pushed open the door before Cordelia could stop her. The open door gave a full view of Spike and Willow on the bed. The blonde vampire had positioned himself behind the red head...to give her a back massage. Cordy released the lung full of air she’d gasped a moment before.

"Breakfast is served," Fred said cheerily. She set the tray on the desk. "How’s your back feeling?"

"A little better," Willow said as she pushed herself off the bed with Spike’s help.

"But now my hands ache," he grumbled with a grin.

Willow drained the glass of orange juice before picking up a piece of toast. "I’m sorry, Spike."

"I wish you’d stop apologizing. I’m glad to do it."

The red head noticed the tall brunette in the doorway. "Come in, Cordelia."

She was amazed at the overnight changes in Willow. She didn’t shy away from shadows. She was clean. And she spoke in full sentences, personal pronouns and everything. "Good morning," she greeted. "I found some cute maternity clothes for you," she said showing them the bag. "And some books. I knew you’d want to read up on pregnancy."

Spike took the Barnes and Noble bag from Cordelia. He removed the stack of books. "‘What to Except When Your Expecting’, ‘Your Pregnancy Week by Week’, ‘She’s Having a Baby-And I’m Having a Breakdown’," Spike read the titles.

"Fred told me you were probably 35 weeks along, but I figured it would give us something to read while we watched your belly move around," Cordelia said with a smile. She pulled a cotton blouse out of the department store bag and held it up to Willow. "I think these things will fit, but they look like they might be a little big."

The red head touched the embroidered collar. "Better too big than busting my buttons."

"Speaking of busting," she muttered as she dug through the bag. "I had no idea about the bras so I got a few different sizes," she explained as she pulled them from the bag.

"That’s my cue to leave," Spike said as he tucked a book under his arm. He kissed Willow on the forehead and gave her tummy an affectionate rub. "I’ll be down stairs if you need me."

"Thank you for the back rub," she said before she started pulling out clothes.

****

Spike found Angel talking on the phone in Wesley’s office. He sat down and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Lighting one up he flipped through his book.

"Everything is under control, Rupert. No, we still haven’t figured that out yet. Oh, good. Let me know what you find out. I’ll have Willow call you this afternoon. Okay, I’ll talk to you later." He set the phone back in the cradle and stared at Spike. "You’re not going to smoke around Willow or the baby are you?"

"I’m not a complete bastard," he said. He dropped the cigarette in a mug of cold coffee.

"So do you want to start talking?" Angel asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Bout what?"

"Let’s start with you and Willow then we can go from there," he suggested.

"Not much to talk about."

"How about the fact that you fainted when she said you were the father?" Angel asked. Spike avoided his gaze. "You had sex with her, didn’t you?"

"What if I did? It’s none of your business," Spike snapped.

"Willow is my friend, that makes it my business."

Leaning his head against the back of his chair. Spike stared at the ceiling. "She’s smart, funny. She’s so damn beautiful it makes my eyes hurt. She’s got that quirky little smile," he listed with a quirky smile of his own.

Angel grinned at the wistful sound in his voice. "I am well aware of Willow’s attributes. Do you love her?"

Spike looked down at his hands as he picked at the black nail polish on his thumb. "Honestly?" he asked. "I’m not sure. I care about her. A lot. I’m not sure I want to love her. The last person I loved was Dru. I don’t to go through that heartache again."

Angel felt that obsession bound Dru and Spike together more than love, but understood what he meant. "But you had sex with her," he stated.

"Yes," Spike growled. "We had sex. No, we hadn’t been drinking and it was consentual, okay?"

"I didn’t doubt that part, Spike. I’m just trying to figure out this baby thing."

"I’ve been shooting blanks for over a century so unless there’s some mystical mojo going on, I doubt my soldiers put the bun in Willow’s oven," he snapped. He stood and stormed out of the office.

"It’s the mystical mojo I’m worried about," Angel said to the empty office. He picked up the phone and placed a call.

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