“What am I looking for again?” Spike asked for the fourth time.

Willow yawned as she turned another page. “Anything on dreamscaping,” she mumbled. Spike brushed a lock of red hair out of her face and continued his search to help Willow.

“Oh, I think I found something,” Cordy said as she set a heavy leather bound volume on the table. “Is this what we’re looking for?” she asked pointing to a section of the page.

Angel scanned the page. “Well, this tells us what it is, but not how to do it,” he explained. At Cordelia’s disappointed look he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But it does cross reference another volume,” he said as he read more carefully.

“Do you happen to have that volume, mate?” Spike asked.

The dark vampire looked at his childe. “No, but I know who does.” Angel glanced at the mantel clock. “I can get it in a couple of hours.”

“What’s wrong with calling the bloke and getting it now?” the blonde vampire asked impatiently.

“Because it’s daylight and the Buddhist monks don’t have a telephone,” Angel answered.

Spike noticed Willow nodding off to sleep. “Hey, Red, wake up.” He shook her bare shoulder.

With much reluctance she opened her eyes. “Spike, I have to sleep. I can’t stay awake anymore,” she said as her lashes brushed against her cheeks.

He gathered her in his arms. “I can’t protect you in there, pet,” he whispered into her hair.

Willow laced her fingers with his and snuggled into his strong chest. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed the crown of her head and held her close to his unbeating heart. “We’ll find a way to fight this, baby.”

Cordelia waited until her friend drifted off to sleep. “Spike?” she said softly.

“Yeah?”

“How did you and Willow hook up?” she asked.

“I found her floating face down in a river in Italy,” he said as he stroked Willow’s hair.
*~*~*~*~*

Spike rested his elbows on the bridge railing. He struck a match and put the flame to his cigarette. As he pulled in a lungful of smoke his blue eyes followed the match as it fell into the river below. Something in the river below caught his eye. Out of curiosity he left the stone bridge and made his way to the bank. Rats scurried from under his feet as he moved under the bridge. He smirked as he poked the body floating at the water’s edge. “What a waste,” he muttered. “She would have been a decent snack.”

The blonde vampire gave the corpse one last poke with a stick and stood to leave. The force of the movement caused the body to roll onto it’s back. He stared at the face in surprise. “Cor,” he uttered. He rolled up his sleeve and grabbed her by the hair. Pulling the dead weight out of the water, Spike removed the debris stuck to her face. He stared at the familiar face and felt a moment of remorse. “Willow,” he whispered.

He hadn’t seen her in at least five years, but he still remembered her bright smiling face. A bright smiling face that was currently pale and lax in death. He barely registered that her naked body was covered in scars. Out of some weak moment of respect he removed his duster jacket and covered her pale body. “What happened to you, pet?” he asked. His fingers stroked her cheek. He traced the ragged wound across her throat. “Not a good end, ducks.”

Spike jumped back as her green eyes opened and stared at him. His eyes widened in surprise as she drew a breath into her lungs and began to cough up the river water. “What the bloody hell?” he exclaimed. He moved closer to her. When his hand touched her bare back, she jumped away from him, almost falling back into the river. “Easy, Red. It’s me. Spike,” he said.

Willow stared at him without recognition for a minute. Her mind tried to put the features into some recognizable pattern. The bleach blonde hair, the knife-cutting cheek bones, the cold, yet amused blue eyes, the cocky brow with a scar. “Sp...Spike?” she croaked. Her throat was raw. She raised her hand to her neck and felt the wound. “Am I...am I dead?” she asked.

“I thought you were, but you definitely got a heart beat. It’s racing a mile a minute,” he answered. Trying to ease her nerves, he pulled another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He leaned against the stone wall of the bridge.

Willow looked around her. She didn’t recognize anything. “Where was I? What happened to me? Why am I still alive?” she wondered aloud.

“Well, I can’t answer the last two, but you’re in Italy, pet. Just outside Milan to be exact,” Spike said as he watched her carefully.

Willow looked up at him. “Why are you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Vacation.”

She shivered and pulled the jacket tighter around her. “Aponix.”

“Who?” he asked. The redhead shook her head and began to shake with cold. “Come on, I got a place near by. We’ll get you warmed up,” he said holding out his hand.

“Why?” she asked as she stared distrustingly at his hand.

“Cuz you’re freezing,” he replied.

Willow ignored his hand and pushed herself to her feet. When Spike moved to wrap an arm around her shoulder, she pulled away and walked a few feet from him. He shrugged and lead the way to the small house he acquired last week.
*~*~*~*

“Acquired?” Cordelia asked.

The vampire smirked as he continued to stroke Willow’s red hair. “Previous tenants didn’t need it anymore,” he replied.

“I’ll bet.”

“Then what happened?” Angel asked.

“Not much for a while. We stayed at the house for a few days until Willow got stronger. I got her some clothes. She didn’t talk much,” he said.

“How did you find out she was an Immortal?” Cordy asked.

“Oh, that was a fun experience,” he said stoically.
*~*~*~*~*

Willow walked down the street. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. If it was night time she would have sworn a vampire was following her. But with the sun shining brightly overhead eliminated that possibility. Quickly, she weaved her way through the crowd. She ducked into an alley and watched the people passing the opening. No one seemed to be looking for her, but that feeling would not go away.

“Actually, staying out in the open is a better option,” a soft voice came from behind her.

The red head jumped quickly and stared at the dark haired man behind her. She realized the alley had another entrance. “Who are you? What do you want?” she asked.

He bowed his head as he introduced himself. “I am Duncan MacLoud of the Clan MacLoud,” he said.

She continued to stare at him. “Goody for you. Now what do you want?”

He smiled at her. “Nothing. You’re new at this, aren’t you? I’ll bet the council doesn’t even know about you yet.”

“Council? The Watcher’s Council?” she asked.

Duncan was surprised she knew what he was talking about. When he’d first sensed her, she seemed new at the game. “So you do know about the Watchers?”

“Maybe. What am I supposed to know about them?” she asked cautiously.

“Not much really. They don’t do anything. Just watch and record the battles,” he answered. He leaned against the wall.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Giles helped train Buffy. He...he...he,” she hesitated as feelings welled up in her throat at the memory of her lost friend.

“Giles helped an Immortal?” he asked in surprise.

“An Immortal? What are you talking about?” Willow asked.

“What are you talking about?” Duncan asked in confusion.

Willow drew herself up and folded her arms across her chest. “I asked you first.”

“You’re an Immortal. I could sense you from down the block.”

“Immortal?” She raised her hand to her throat. Her fingers rubbed the collar of her turtleneck absently.

“You didn’t know?” he asked. “You died. Then you came back to life, right?” The red head nodded her head. “You are an Immortal. You’re part of the Gathering.”

“Huh? Okay, wait a minute. I’m an Immortal. So that means I can’t die?”

“Well, unless someone cuts your head off.”

She had to try and process the information. “Well, I guess that’s a bit better than being a vampire,” she muttered.

“Vampire?” Duncan said incredulously.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve staked one,” she sighed. “What’s this Gathering I’m supposed to be a part of? And why don’t these things come with an instruction manual, even if it’s in Japanese?”

He sighed. “This may take a while to explain. Maybe we can go somewhere and talk about this,” he suggested.

“Oh, yeah. Like I’m gonna go somewhere nice and secluded with you, a complete stranger. Look, buster, I grew up on the Hellmouth. I’m not your average red head,” she snorted.

“Okay, okay,” he said holding his hands up in self-defense. “We can go where ever you want.”

“Why don’t you meet me here tonight?” she suggested.

“Eight o’ clock?”

“Make it nine.”

Duncan nodded his acceptance and turned to go. He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Oh, I forgot to ask your name.”

She paused for a moment, unsure of who she was herself. “Just call me Red.”

“See you tonight, Red.”
****

Spike followed a couple of steps behind Willow. “Why are we doing this again?” he asked.

“Aponix slit my throat and dumped me in the river, Spike. I have a few questions and maybe this MacLoud guy can answer them,” she said as she continued towards the alley.

Spike shrugged as he continued to follow her. He took another drag on his cigarette and tried to search out his next meal. He was distracted by a tender bit of Sicilian and he bumped into Willow. “Sorry,” he muttered. He studied the man waiting at the alley entrance. He was tall and dark with his long hair pulled into a pony tail. *Bloody pouf,* Spike thought.

Duncan looked at the blonde behind Red. He nodded his greeting. “Red. Did you want to just stand here and talk or would you like to go to the cafe down the street and get a bite to eat?” Duncan asked.

The trio found a small table set apart from the rest of the outdoor cafe. Duncan proceeded to explain to Willow what she was and what the Gathering was about.

“So I need to get a sword and go around cutting people’s heads off?” the red head asked.

“Some of us do it that way; some of us don’t. It depends on who you are, but I would recommend getting a sword as soon as possible. It would be a shame to have that pretty head removed from your body,” he said with a smile.

Spike growled at the Scotsman.
*~*~*~*~*

“MacLoud?” Cordelia said. “I know that name.”

“Yeah, aparently he’s well known among the Immortals,” Spike said. He watched Willow carefully for any signs that she was in danger while she slept.

“Yeah, the Highlander. But weren’t there two of them?” Cordy asked.

Spike shrugged as he twisted a braid around his finger. “Don’t know. Just met the one.”
****
Part 13

Willow swung her feet to the floor and stretched her arms over her head. She felt rested and strong. She smiled down at Spike laying sideways on the couch. She knew that he’d be waking up soon and he’d be hungry. Slowly she stood and walked into the kitchen.

Her hand brushed against the door jamb and she stopped. She stepped back and looked at the bookcase. Her green eyes widened at the vision before her. “G..Giles?” she whispered.

The man in tweed looked up at her. “Oh, hello, Willow,” he greeted and returned to the book he was paging through.

“But...but you’re...uh...”

“Dead? Yes, I know,” he said matter-of-factly.

Willow looked back at the couch and saw herself still resting against Spike. “Then I’m...”

“Dreaming?” Giles asked. “Something like that.” He closed the book and slipped it back onto the shelf. “Have you been keeping up with your reading, Willow?” She shook her head negatively. “Hmm. You should really keep up with your reading.”

“Giles,” she said sadly. A single tear slipped over the edge of her lashes. She smiled as he reached up and brushed the drop of moisture away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry, Willow. I’m proud of you.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to go. Don’t forget what I said.”

She took a step closer and reached out to prevent him from leaving, but her fingers touched only air. “I love you, Giles.” She closed her eyes and tried to draw a deep calming breath.

She opened her eyes and found Spike staring down at her. “You okay, pet?” he asked.

The red head sat up and propped her elbows on her knees. She buried her face into her shaking hands. Taking a few deep breaths she settled her ragged nerves.

“Willow? What happened?” Cordy asked as she knelt on the floor beside her.

“I saw Giles,” she whispered.

“Giles? You mean our Giles?” the brunette asked.

“Rupert?” Angel asked.

Willow froze for a moment and turned her head. She saw it. The bookcase. Ignoring the questioning look of the others she moved to the shelves and began searching.

“What are you looking for?” Angel asked.

“I’m not sure,” she muttered as she ran her finger across the spine of Angel’s collection. At one inconspicuous book she paused and pulled it from its nest. She sat cross-legged on the floor and began to skim through the pages. “Here. Dreamscaping. ‘Dreams are thoughts; thoughts are actions; actions are reality. In the dream-plane all things are probable. Be careful what you wish for because you will get it.’ He was right. I need to keep up on my reading,” she whispered.

Angel lifted the book from her hands. “Where did you find this? I don’t remember owning it.”

“What is it?” Cordy asked.

“The Book of Counted Sorrows,” he said holding up the mundane book.

The brunette shrugged. “Never heard of it.”

“Well, it was never on the New York Times Bestseller’s list,” he replied. “It’s an ancient volume of philosophy. Translated, of course.”

“Of course,” Spike muttered. “So what’s it gonna tell us?”

Angel scanned the pages Willow had found. “It’s going to tell us how to Dreamscape and fight Aponix on his own ground.” He glanced again at his bookshelf. *I know this book wasn’t here before,* he told himself.

“Thank you, Giles,” Willow said with a small smile.

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