Rating: eventually an R, I think, maybe NC-17
Feedback: Yes, please!
Notes: this is the sequel to Past Love, and takes place about 3 years after the events in that story. And a big thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep going with this.
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~Part: 1~
It was good to be back home again, to have things back to normal. She had enjoyed her time away and she certainly didn't regret having it, but being back amongst familiar faces, in a familiar place, something about it just made her happy.
It had been three years since she gone back in time, since she had returned from England and William. For the first year she had been sad, withdrawn, and barely functioning. Life without him just seemed to be more than she could bear. Her friends had tried helping as much as they could, and they did help her somewhat, but the process was something that only she could get through. Slowly she had started to come out of her self-imposed exile. Why, she thought, sometimes an entire hour passed where she didn't think of William-of what she had lost. Well, it was an improvement, she told herself fiercely. Slowly but surely, her life was getting back to "normal." At least, she thought, as normal as life could be in Sunnydale.
As a surprise graduation present, her parents had given her a trip to London. It might also have been because they had finally noticed that she was quickly approaching adulthood. Her parents had finally admitted to her that they felt they barely knew her and wanted to rectify the situation. Whatever the reason, she had enjoyed tremendously the chance to see England with them; as well as the chance to get to know them as adults, rather than as parents.
She had loved England ... the museums, the culture, the castles, the incredible sense of history. She could have spent days inside the British Museum and still craved more. Caerphilly Castle in Wales had amazed her. It was really nothing but an ancient pile of stone, but in her imagination it came alive, transporting her back to a time when battles were waged and honour was everything.
There was, of course, the overwhelming need to take a walk back in time to where she and William had lived. What had she really expected to find there, she asked herself? Deep within her mind, had some small part of her expected him to be there waiting for her, after all these years, with open arms? No, she didn't believe that, she told herself. She had just wanted to see the place where she had been so happy one more time.
It was a Chinese restaurant now. It had been like a slap to the face to see it there. She was unsure if the building was even the same-or perhaps it had been so many years that she had gone to the wrong block-but she didn't think so. Being there had evoked memories that she had tried for so long to suppress. William smiling, laughing, touching her; it all became too much for her. Every voice she heard reminded her of him. By the time the two weeks were over, she was more than grateful to be home.
Being at home posed problems as well, though. As soon as she was settled in again, the inevitable call to research came. But it was also comforting-in an odd way-to know that her friends were still there, still the same people. Xander, with his goofy looks and his sweet heart. Buffy, who would stop the world to save a friend. Giles, who was their rock and really the closest thing to a father that any of the Scoobies had ever known. Finally, there was Anya, who had just somehow wormed her way into their hearts. She hadn't wanted to be a part of their little group, but in time she had warmed to them, and allowed them to see the funny, warm, wonderful woman she was becoming.
They had stayed the same, but she hadn't, she thought. She had become a powerful wicca, although she knew she still had a lot to learn. Her increasing powers had given her a sense of both accomplishment and confidence; and a feeling that she finally had a unique purpose. Maybe she couldn't fight with the speed and agility of Buffy, or the raw strength that Xander possessed, but she could use magic to take care of herself. No longer did she have to depend on the others to hold her up, she could hold herself up, and hold her head high.
* * * *
Over snacks and coffee at the Magic Box, Giles and Buffy filled Willow in on the happenings while she'd been away as Xander and Anya played snuggles over in the corner.
"So did Giles fill you in on the new Big Bad yet?" Buffy asked Willow. "Some new bad-ass is in town, and he's got all the vamps practically falling over themselves to impress him."
"Well, yes, that's not quite the way I would have put it," Giles muttered, over up at Willow, "But, essentially, Buffy has hit the high points, as they say. The paranormal activity level is quite elevated at the moment. Buffy's been very busy on patrol for the last couple of nights. There's been no sign of the new vampire yet, but it's only a matter of time."
"So we should keep an eye out for the new guy, and if we see him, beep Buffy, right? Unless she's right next to us, in which case beeping her would be kind of silly, of course," Willow amended. Okay, so maybe I haven't changed in some ways, she thought to herself. I still babble. The thought made her smile to herself.
"Right!" replied Buffy. "Time to Bronze it yet? C'mon, Xander, get up, Anya, we're outta here." And with that, Buffy was gone, leaving the others to trail behind her.
~Part: 2~
Willow was at the Bronze, watching Buffy, Anya and Xander dance together while she nursed a drink. It felt just like old times. Buffy danced like she felt every single beat of the music. She definitely had rhythm, as did Anya. Xander, on the other hand-well, it was a good thing he was cute. And a good friend as well. Because as a dancer, about the kindest thing you could say was that he was entertaining.
Willow's eyes moved from couple to couple on the dance floor, to groups of friends laughing at tables, to the edges of the building. Her eyes were quick enough to catch the early signs of trouble. Why couldn't tonight have been a nice quiet night? She'd really needed some peace. But no, this was Sunnydale, and things were never that easy. Over at the main entrance, a huge muscle-bound man just stood in front of the entrance, arms folded over his chest, body barring anyone from entering or leaving.
"Uh oh," Willow thought, "this looks like something bad just waiting to happen." Casually she weaved her way between the dancing couples, seeking out her friends. She carried her backpack in her right hand, it contained a general-purpose demon-fighting kit. Maybe she looked silly with it, she thought, but she'd rather look silly than dead. Corpses were never pretty, especially after a vampire had finished with them.
As she approached, Buffy looked questioningly at her and the backpack she carried. Willow nodded slightly toward the door and Buffy's eyes followed her movements.
Buffy's lips pursed as she surveyed the scene. As far as she could see, nobody was blocking the back exit; maybe the would-be attackers were unaware of its existence. Buffy caught Xander's attention and sent him to secure the rear exit as unobtrusively as possible. As Xander took up his position, Buffy and Willow quickly divided up the weapons and took their positions on the outskirts of the dance floor.
Just as they got into position, the front entrance burst open and a horde of vamps streamed in. In the meantime, Anya and Xander began funnelling people out the back door. Willow hoped that by the time the vamps figured out what was going on, there would only be about a dozen people in the Bronze, and with any luck, most of them would be able to take care of themselves, while Buffy and Xander took care of the big guns.
That was the plan, at least. And like most plans, there were problems. Xander and Anya managed to get all the people on the dance floor out the back, but there were still at least a dozen people sitting around tables who were just staring at the approaching vampires. Were they really that stupid, Willow wondered, or were they just newcomers to Sunnydale? People who didn't realize the danger they were in?
"All of you. On the dance floor. Now," growled a voice. Willow still couldn't see the front door from her location, but she assumed that something in the vamp's voice or visage must have convinced the stragglers, because they moved, in a big clump, towards the dance floor. Ringing them in on all sides were a half-dozen vamps, in full face, almost like they were herding cattle. The master and the minion who had first spoken still stayed by the door, in the shadows.
Suddenly Buffy shouted, "Now," and she and Xander attacked the two nearest vamps with stakes and holy water. Holy water wasn't the most effective weapon, being both hard to aim and easy to spill, but considering the options at the moment, it was certainly better than nothing. It was getting the job done, Willow had to admit. The element of surprise was working for them. Before the vamps even knew what was going on, three of them were reduced to small piles of dust on the dance floor. Buffy was struggling with the remaining three, her hands and feet a blur as she kicked, twisted, and fought, while Xander tried to quickly drag the remaining patrons from the establishment.
Suddenly, Willow heard a harsh voice with a familiar English accent yell: "You bloody morons! You're supposed to case the joint first to make sure there's no other way out. Bloody hell! If I want anything done right, I always have to do it myself!"
Willow's head whipped around in the direction of the voice. Slowly, she saw a familiar shape emerge from the shadows. "Oh my God," she thought, "it's Spike." She realized that he hadn't seen her yet, but it was just a matter of time. Would he remember her? How would he feel towards her? What was she going to do? The questions tumbled around in her mind one after the other, overwhelming her completely.
Suddenly she gathered all the force she could muster. She could feel it almost like a physical presence, swirling in circles around her. "Stop!" she said, softly but firmly. All movement stopped, everyone halted in mid-action. It was magic, of course. She took one last look at the scene before her. Buffy had just dispatched a demon, and was literally inches from dusting another. That left only the one remaining minion and Spike, against Buffy, Xander and Anya. They should be able to take care of themselves, she thought. Willow, on the other hand, was about to fall apart. All of her emotions threatened to bubble over. She didn't know whether to throw herself at Spike and kiss him passionately, or run from him as fast as she could.
After what seemed like an eternity, she made up her mind. She ran for home, as fast and as hard as she could. As she ran, she could feel her magic dissolve and the action begin again. But by then, she was almost home.
* * * *
Willow raced up the steps, through the door, and locked it behind her with trembling hands. Then she went through the house and methodically checked each and every window and door, just in case. She looked out the front window. Everything was still and looked as quiet as it ever had. Relax, she told herself. There was no way he could have seen her. He couldn't have any idea she was here, and if he hadn't seen her, he wouldn't have any reason to come looking for her. She just needed to think logically. She would be fine.
She walked quickly to the phone and dialed Buffy's number. She knew that her friend wouldn't be home yet, but Willow wanted Buffy to know that she'd made it home all right. And in the meantime, she needed to set up a meeting with the whole gang so that she could give them any information that she could remember about Spike. After leaving her message on Buffy's machine, she called Giles and gave him a quick update on the events of the evening. They made arrangements to meet first thing the next morning. Willow made the necessary phone calls, leaving messages on everyone's answering machines. With each step up the stairs, her exhaustion multiplied. She had never channeled such magic before. The toll it took on her physically was almost more than she could bear. Now that the initial adrenaline rush had departed, she barely managed to reach her bedroom before she felt herself falling. She reached her bed, but just barely, then passed out.
All night long she dreamed of being chased by a fast blonde man in a dark duster.
~Part: 3~
It was still very early the next morning when the Scoobies congregated at the Magic Box for the traditional "Research Party." Xander brought donuts, Giles donated coffee and Buffy and Anya brought their decidedly unpleasant morning attitudes. As Giles began to talk, both girls stifled yawns and looked around sleepily, as if hoping to find a nice comfy couch in which to curl up. When they had been informed of the time for the meeting, both had declared that meetings were not supposed to be held so early. But Giles had overridden them and threatened--in his best 'Ripper-esque' voice--dire consequences if they failed to appear.
So after some initial hemming, hawing and good-natured teasing, everyone grabbed breakfast and sat around the table in the middle of the store. They eyed the stacks of books piled in the middle of the table with weary distaste. Giles paced impatiently in front of them, ready to begin his lecture cum presentation.
"The first thing we have to do is ascertain the identity of this master vampire," Giles began. "From what I "
"I know who he is," Willow said to the assembled group. Buffy stopped chewing her donut mid-chew and looked at Willow appraisingly. Xander, who had been leaning back in his chair, actually lost control and fell backwards onto the floor. He hit the ground with a thud. Sheepishly he stood up, rubbed his ass, and righted his chair before sitting down again. Anya shot him a "you should know better than to do that" type of glare, and Giles actually stopped polishing his glasses for a moment. All eyes were on Willow.
"Oh, yes? And who would that be?" Giles asked, a slightly annoyed tone to his voice. He had been looking forward to a day of research. If Willow was actually going to pull a rabbit out of her hat like this, he really ought to have been informed beforehand.
"It's Spike," she answered softly. "I don't know how, or why, or what he's doing here, but it's definitely him. I'd recognize him anywhere. That's why I left so suddenly," she continued, squirming guiltily in her chair. "I was afraid that he'd see me, and I wasn't sure what his reaction would be."
"I wasn't even sure what my reaction was going to be," she admitted silently to herself.
They all stared at her in surprise. They had believed her when she had told them of her story; how she went to England, met William, and everything that followed. But they had exhausted every avenue trying to find this "Spike." Angel never sired him. Hell, Angel had never even heard of him. None of Giles' vampiric texts mentioned him either. As far as they could ascertain, he had never existed. Yet according to Willow, he was real, and he had nearly caused a major bloodbath the previous evening.
Giles was the first one to recover his senses and start questioning her. "This Spike...what did he look like, Willow? Perhaps he's using a different name and that's why our research never found him. Damn! I should have considered this possibility earlier. It was a terrible lapse on my part."
Willow got up and walked over to him, putting her hand gently on his arm. He smiled sadly down at her. "Don't beat yourself up about this, Giles," she said, hoping to console him. "It never occurred to me either. It really should have. I guess that cliché about hindsight being twenty-twenty is a cliché for a reason, huh?" She gave him a sad smile, then walked back to the table to sit down.
"Okay, Spike was Spike is ... blond, tall, lanky, always wears a dark duster, and has a small scar over his left eye. Oh, and really pretty blue eyes." She blushed as she added the last part. "Although last night I didn't get close enough to see if he still had the scar," Willow added. "But everything else still looked the same."
"Well I guess it's time to hit the books after all, huh?" Buffy said regretfully, as she turned to look wistfully towards the window and the sunny day that was beginning to take shape. As she watched, everyone grabbed a book and got settled in for a boring morning of research. Giles paced behind them for a bit, mostly to make sure that Xander did not try to slip a comic book in behind the cover of the ancient tome he was reading. It certainly wouldn't be the first time, Giles thought with a sigh. Finally, he grabbed a book as well and settled down in his chair behind the cash register, hoping that this would not take all day. "I do have a business to run," he thought to himself.
After several false sightings, it was Willow who finally found him. Buffy, sitting next to Willow, could tell exactly when it happened. She noticed when her best friend started slightly, glanced around furtively to see if anyone had noticed, then buried her nose even deeper into the book. Her face was a mask of concentration. Finally, when Buffy was about to poke her and demand an explanation, Willow spoke.
"I think I've found him, guys. Look at this," she said, laying the book out on the table for all to see. A picture of a striking blonde man with piercing blue eyes dominated the page. He had a sneer on his face, and according to the explanation below, he answered to the name of "Bloody Red."
"Wow, Willow, you sure know how to pick the cute ones," Buffy nodded approvingly, looking at the picture over Willow's shoulder.
Giles approached as well, giving Buffy a sour look. "That's hardly the most helpful comment you could be making right now, Buffy," he remonstrated. Buffy stuck out her tongue at him and turned back to look at the picture and read the caption aloud to the group.
"Bloody Red is an enigma in a society who loves to tell tall tales about themselves," she started. "He is purported to have been sired by the legendary Vampire of Montparnasse, back in the late 1800s. Very little else is known about him, and what little we do know is short on fact and long on conjecture."
"In Watcher-speak, that means that they know absolutely squat about him," Xander whispered loudly to Anya, who giggled quietly. Giles walked up behind him silently and clipped Xander around the ear, causing Xander to wince and make vague, muttered complaints about "sadistic librarians on mad power trips."
"Please continue, Buffy," Giles requested. "I'm sure that there won't be any further interruptions," he promised, giving Xander a dirty look.
Buffy looked at them and smothered a grin. Xander just loved to push all of the Watcher's buttons and, of course, he was so darned good at it. "Well," she replied, "there really isn't a whole lot more here. Most of what is here is just guesses. What it boils down to is, they know almost nothing about this Bloody Red. We don't even know how he got his name."
Xander perked up a little at this last comment. "You mean you don't get it? C'mon, Buffy, Giles, it's as plain as the nose on my face." At that, they all looked questioningly at his nose, perhaps expecting to find some sort of answer there.
"You really don't see it? Man, I am so going to hold this over you guys. Giles, I'm taking away your Watchers Secret Decoder Ring. Buffy-ooww!" Suddenly he stopped, looking down at his shin and rubbing it as if it hurt.
Anya, sitting next to him, smiled as innocently as she knew how. "Ooops," she apologized, sounding almost sincere. "Sorry, Xander, my foot must've slipped. That didn't hurt, did it?"
"Anyway," Xander continued, in a less know-it-all tone, giving Anya a decidedly nasty look, "I know how he got his name. You told us yourself, Willow." Willow's green eyes acknowledged what he said was true.
"Yes, I know. He called me 'Red' while we were together. His name must have something to do with me," she answered sadly, her eyes brightening with unshed tears.
Buffy quickly turned to her and hugged her friend as tightly as she could. She, more than any of the others, knew how Willow was feeling right now.
"Well ahh," Giles murmured, looking at the distraught redhead being comforted by her friends, "perhaps we can hold off on any more research until tomorrow. There doesn't seem to be much here anyway. I'll talk to my contacts in England and see if they have any additional information about this Bloody Red. Buffy, when you and Willow feel up to it, can search the web for whatever information is out there. Anya, could you talk to some of your former urm business acquaintances? Perhaps one of them might know something. We can meet back here tomorrow night and discuss whatever information we've found. Is that acceptable?"
Giles watched them nod in agreement then sent them on their way. As the others filed out of the Magic Box, Giles pulled Willow aside.
"You know, you should start wearing a cross; either around your neck or on a charm bracelet," he reminded her. "I know, Willow, I know you're Jewish," he said hastily, warding off her inevitable protests. "But we must be realistic. We'll try to hide you from him as long as we can, but we just don't know how long he'll stay here. He may stay in Sunnydale for quite some time. You've got to be prepared for that."
Giles led Willow back to the table and as they both sat down. He took off his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. "I hoped never to have to give this particular pep talk again. Buffy couldn't handle the situation and because she couldn't, Jenny's dead. I'll never forgive Angelus for that." Or Angel, he added silently to himself. "But you, Willow, you're stronger. You can make it through this relatively unscathed if you work at it hard enough. Just remember that although he may resemble your William physically, he's not. There's a demon living in his body, and that demon will do whatever it can to destroy you, and through you, the slayer."
"Be very careful, and don't ever go out alone at night. Not even into your own back yard. Even one little slip can be fatal. You've lived around the danger long enough to know how real it is."
He looked into her frightened eyes and sighed. He had not meant to scare her, but maybe that was the best thing he could do for her right now. Fear can be healthy in some situations, he acknowledged. Fear was what kept you from doing stupid, dangerous things.
He watched as she stood up and turned to leave. "Willow," he added awkwardly, "I feel as fondly towards you as I would a daughter. Please, if there's anything I can do to help you " he trailed off, obviously uncomfortable with such a blatant show of emotion.
She smiled gently at him, touched by his concern and his words. "Thank you, Giles. I'll remember." You've been more of a father than my own ever was, she thought to herself. "I'd better get going Buffy's walking me home. If I make her wait too long, she and Xander will probably get into a fight. You know how those two are, like a couple of silly children," she remarked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"Good-bye, Willow," he nodded sadly.
~Part: 4~
"Aw, c'mon Willow, you know you want to," wheedled Buffy. "It'll be fun. And you just know that Xander will show up in some lame-ass costume. Who will laugh at him with me if you're not there?"
Willow had spent the last week or so hiding, laying low, and staying in at night. She was ready to cry from boredom. Tonight was The Bronze's annual Masquerade Bash. Buffy was doing her best to convince Willow to come along with her and Xander. She knew that she should stay home and do her homework like a good little girl, but heavens, she was so tired of being a "good little girl."
"You can even wear a costume and a mask," Buffy reminded her. "That way if, god forbid, someone, uhm, unexpected shows up, he would never even know you were there. Come on, Will, pretty please? For me?"
"You're so cute when you beg like that," Willow answered with a grin. "Okay, how could I resist. But I need a costume. What will I wear?"
Buffy had been a little leery about costumes since that problem they had a couple of years back on Halloween, but this year she decided that she would dress up. Settling on a costume that was both practical and appropriate, she decided to dress up as one of the female warriors from the recent movie "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." She had just finished dying her hair black and was now in the process of putting on her black robe. Later, she would make herself up as close as she could to look the part. An old sword from Giles' collection would complete the ensemble.
Xander, on the other hand, refused to divulge his costume to anyone, merely saying mysteriously that he had a "killer idea."
"Well we know that Anya is going to go as a bunny again," remarked Buffy. "Apparently she didn't have time to get out and buy a new costume, so she's gone with an old favorite. Although why she insists that those cute little bunnies are frightening, I'll never know. But what can we do for you?"
Buffy looked around her room for inspiration. Then slowly, a smile started to spread across her face. She looked at Willow and giggled.
Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like this, Willow wondered. Half of her was wondering if she should try to back out of her promise to attend, while the other half was curious to know just what Buffy was up to. Curiosity won out in the end, as it usually did.
"Okay, Willow, I know this sounds a little silly, but you know, it's really an old standard. You'll look great, I promise." With that, Buffy walked to her linen closet and picked out one of her sheets. It was the same soft, dark green color as Willow's eyes. Buffy draped it across Willow's shoulders, watching it fall into soft waves down her body. "See, it's 'Toga Party Willow.' You'll look great. I have some sandals that'll look perfect with this um outfit. Oh, and we can get you a mask so that nobody can see your face. One of those really pretty jeweled ones. You'll be totally anonymous. I promise. So will you let me do it? Please? It'll be fun!" Buffy was practically bouncing in her enthusiasm.
Willow looked at Buffy's sparkling face and realized that she really could pull this off. They could do some minor adjustments on the sheet and it would drape across her body perfectly. The sandals, with long laces up to her knees, would look appropriate. Once she added the mask it would be, well, not too bad.
Buffy stood there watching Willow think things over. Finally she was rewarded with a shy smile.
"Yippie," exclaimed Buffy. "C'mon, let's get to work on this. I told Xander we'd meet him at our table in an hour."
~~~*~~~
Bloody Red walked quietly into the Bronze in full costume. He had come dressed, appropriately enough, as Death. A long, floor-length black cape swept around his body, flowing with his every movement. A black hood covered his striking blond hair. The pure black mask and a pair of black gloves finished the ensemble.
He stood silently in one of the shadowed corners as he surveyed the room carefully, looking at all the happy couples, friends, and lovers, occupying the tables and the dance floor. His eyes penetrated the deep shadows, noting other couples involved in a bit of heavy lip-locking.
"This time it'll work," he thought to himself. He had over a dozen minions outside waiting for his signal. At his command, they would come bounding in to slaughter the patrons of this "fine establishment." And unlike last time he had done the reconnaissance himself, leaving nothing to chance. It was quite likely that the Slayer would be here tonight and he wanted to repay her for the humiliating defeat she had dealt him the last time they met.
As his eyes wandered from table to table he did notice the Slayer. She was talking with a small redhead in what seemed to be a toga costume. The redhead had a nice, slight, lithe body, he noticed. "I bet she'll scream bloody murder when I drain her," he thought. He always enjoyed the redheads, ever since-no, he wouldn't think about her again.
As he watched the two girls talk, a plan entered his mind. Yes, the perfect revenge against the Slayer, and a little fun for himself as well. What could be better? He smiled a predator's smile, cold and empty of emotion, as he weaved his way through the maze of tables and chairs, ending his journey when he was at the redhead's side.
"A dance?" he whispered quietly into the redhead's ear.
~Part: 5~
"Oh, wow, I think we've found Xander and his "killer" costume," joked Buffy. "And it's not nearly as lame as I thought it would be. Good job, Xander."
Death merely nodded his head in Buffy's direction by way of a greeting, then held out his gloved hand to Willow. Willow gave a look to Buffy, then took his hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. They worked their way through the crowd to one of the darker corners of the dance floor and started to dance. Soon Willow's mind was on nothing at all except for the beat. Then she realized that there was a nagging little question in the back of her mind. When had Xander learned to dance? She watched the man across from her, the way he moved his body. Not jerky or bouncy, he just moved sensually to the music. Whoever he was, he sure knew how to move. He couldn't be Xander.
All too soon for Willow's taste, the song ended. A sad, slow song started, and the mournful voice of Shirley Manson floated on the air. "I'm waiting, I'm waiting, for you "
Death took her hand, seemingly intending to lead her back off the dance floor. Willow hesitated momentarily. Deciding that no real harm could come to her with Buffy within shouting distance, Willow allowed him to lead her away. They walked, hand in hand, to a secluded corner wreathed in shadows. Willow leaned back against the wall while Death faced her, leaning in towards her. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her shoulders, trapping her between his arms.
"And what's your name, little girl?" he asked her in that same dead, toneless voice. Not that it mattered, he thought to himself; I'm just going to call you "dinner" in a minute anyway.
"Willow," she breathed softly. "My name is Willow."
Such a pretty, soft young thing, he thought. The innocence in her emerald-colored eyes was enchanting. If not for his unfinished business waiting outside he would have taken his time with this one. Taken her home and into his bed, using her until he tired of her. But he had a plan, he reminded himself. Best to drain her now. Consider her an appetizer. Then he would call in his men to take care of the Slayer and the others. He did want her to see the face of the one who killed her, though, and to look into her eyes as they glazed over in fear, changing to panic, then into unconsciousness.
"Take off your mask," he commanded huskily, his hand reaching out, as if to remove it himself.
She reached up hesitantly, touching the side of the mask. Slowly, so slowly, she took off her mask and let it fall to the floor.
He stared at her in shock, not believing the evidence of his own eyes. It was his Red. But yet it couldn't be. Conflicting thoughts swirled in his head.
He gripped her arm roughly and spit out the words: "What. Are. You?" He sent each word to her heart like a poisoned dart. He had heard that the Slayer was good and was expecting that she would try something to throw him off balance. But this--how could anyone have known about Red?
Sudden realization dawned on Willow's face. This was Bloody Red. Spike. Whichever. He knew that she was here and alive, but he hadn't figured out how yet. She hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Run away? Feign ignorance? Admit that she was his Red? Would he even believe her if she did?
"Answer me!" he hissed, twisting her arm behind her and causing her to cry out softly. She looked at him and saw cold blue eyes awash in such anger and hatred that she shrunk back against the wall in fear. Her sweet and gentle William was nowhere to be found in those eyes. They were truly the eyes of a demon.
Willow was not sure if it was the right thing to do, but she had to do something. She reached up with her free hand and gently touched his mask, moving it away from his face and letting it drop to his chest. Running a soft hand down his cheek, she answered quietly, "I'm Willow. I I was also Red."
He stared into her green eyes, emotions running wild. How? How was this possible? Was she lying to him? She couldn't be. He'd never told anyone the full story of what had happened between him and Red. He had little choice but to believe her, to believe that this was his Red standing in front of him.
Anger flared through his body like a white-hot sword. How dare she do this to William, to him? How dare she toy with William the way she had, making him think that she loved him and causing him to love her in return. He would kill her. No, better yet, he'd torture her for days until she begged him to kill her. Then he'd dump her lifeless body at the feet of the Slayer before he killed her as well.
He grabbed her arm and jerked her into his body, feeling her soft warmth against his chest. He gazed down into her luminous eyes and was almost lost. Almost. "Let's get out of here and talk, hmmm?" he whispered in his most seductive voice. She wasn't the only one who could play games, he thought.
He led her towards the entrance, along the edge of the dance floor. Willow sensed that something was wrong and was not going to let him guide her out without a fight. Act naturally, she told herself. She gazed up into his eyes trying to project an aura of adoration and happiness. Her senses were highly attuned, looking for possible avenues of escape.
They were approaching the table that Willow and Buffy had shared earlier. Willow glanced over and saw Buffy, Anya and Xander in animated conversation. Xander was in his pirate costume again. Gee, how original, she thought. She took in a quick breath and prepared to scream. Before she could do it, Bloody Red spun her away into the crowd, making them look for all the world like a pair of devoted lovers dancing the night away.
"Don't," he said, shaking her gently. He knew exactly what she had been about to do, of course. The thought had shown clearly on her beautiful face. She wasn't good at subterfuge, he realized. How she had managed to keep William fooled for so long was beyond his understanding. Then again, William had been a human, he thought with disgust. Easily charmed by the beauty of a pretty girl with a sad story.
"If you try to get away, I will kill you," he said in a casual, unemotional voice, sounding almost as if he were planning the rest of his week. "Then I will kill your friends. Once they're all dead, I will kill your slayer," he finished.
She looked into his eyes and knew that he meant it. He would kill each and every one of them just to punish her. There was no choice but to follow him through the throng of dancing couples, his hand like a steel band around her wrist. Slowly they made their way back towards the entrance. Her eyes desperately sought Buffy but could not find her. She, Anya and Xander must have gone out onto the dance floor, she thought. Or maybe they were buying drinks. It didn't really matter; she was on her own this time.
As they reached the door, Bloody Red stopped short, causing her to stumble against him. "Slayer," she heard him hiss softly. She looked to the door and saw Buffy standing there, arms crossed in front of her. Thank God, Buffy to the rescue again, thought Willow. She was so glad to see Buffy that she could have wept. Instead, she tried twisting her arm out of Bloody Red's iron grasp. He whipped his head back to look at her and growled. She shrank back but met his gaze defiantly. Realizing that he had little or no possibility of escaping if he insisted on taking Willow with him, he made up his mind and pushed her towards Buffy, throwing them both off-balance. Then he quickly darted out the door and into the night, his dark cape flowing behind him as he ran.
~Part: 6~
"Well it seems that keeping Willow's existence a secret from Bloody Red is no longer a viable possibility," Giles remarked with regret.
They had quickly assembled back at the Magic Shop, each taking their usual seats. Giles sat in his chair behind the cash register, Anya, Xander, Buffy and Willow at the table, each pondering strategies to deal with the latest calamity.
"I suppose it was bound to happen eventually," Willow agreed sadly. "I couldn't live locked up in my room forever. I guess I just kept hoping that he'd go away, but obviously that isn't going to happen now."
'Don't worry Willow," Xander told her, patting her hand awkwardly. "We won't let him hurt you."
Buffy put her arm around Willow and pulled her close for a hug, resting her chin on the top of Willow's head. "Yeah, what he said," she whispered in Willow's hair. "We're in this together, Will. I'm your shadow. He's never going to be able to get close to you again."
"I I just feel so confused," Willow confessed, pulling away and looking up into Buffy's eyes. "You know what it's like, Buffy. You understand how it feels to see the eyes of a demon staring at you from out of your lover's face. How do I deal with something like that?" she asked despairingly.
Buffy looked sadly at her, remembering her experiences with Angel and Angelus. "I understand that you're confused. It is a confusing thing," she said, thinking of all the chances she had to kill Angelus and remembering how she was always unable to do so.
"Buffy can kill him for you," said Anya expectantly. They looked at her in shock. She always had the most disconcerting way of saying out loud what everyone else was thinking. Sometimes it was a good thing; sometimes it wasn't.
"Thank you, Miss Stating-The-Obvious," Xander replied sarcastically, wishing that just this once she had managed to keep her thoughts to herself. Well, being an ex-demon in a human's body couldn't be easy, he reminded himself. Maybe his response had been a little harsh.
"Sorry, Anya," he apologized, entwining her fingers with his own. "I guess I'm still just a little freaked here."
"It's okay," she replied, giving him a forgiving smile.
"Well, now that Bloody Red has found out about Willow, I think it's time to plan our strategy," Giles reminded them. "The important thing now is that Willow not be left alone. You three," he said, pointing at Buffy, Xander and Anya, "should be with her at all times after dark. Walk her home, or anywhere else she needs to go. Make sure that all the doors and windows are locked, and that holy water and stakes are hidden in all rooms. And most importantly, Willow, be extremely careful whom you allow into your house. You never know what Bloody Red might try to do next. We must be prepared for literally anything."
As Willow started to protest, Giles interrupted her, standing and pacing across the room uneasily, "No. No exceptions Willow. Any deviation from this plan could get you killed." He looked at her with compassion and sadness in his eyes, "I know that this is difficult. But please, do it for me. I don't think I could stand to lose another friend. Especially one as good and sweet as you."
Willow stood up, obviously wanting to argue. But when she saw the look in Giles' eyes she sat back down, mouth unopened.
"All right, get out of here," Giles said with a wave of his arm, motioning them towards the door. "Take Willow home and make sure that everything's secure. Then walk home. Together. We all need to be especially careful right now. There's no telling what Bloody Red will try next."
They made halfhearted attempts at conversation as they walked Willow home, but nobody's heart was really in it. Each of them was secretly worried for Willow, hoping that she would be strong enough to make it until Buffy was able to kill Bloody Red, or at least drive him out of town. He was a master vampire and he wouldn't be easy to kill. They all knew it.
"Well, here we are, all safe and sound," Willow said. Trying to lighten the mood, she continued, "Is it just me, or does it feel like I have an entourage?"
The others laughed, but too loudly. She knew that they were nervous. I wish I could convince them that I'll be okay, she thought to herself, I know they're worried.
They followed her into her house and checked all the doors and windows, making sure that she was as secure as she could possibly be.
"And another exciting Saturday night down the drain," quipped Anya, wondering why she saw more demons now that she was a mortal than she ever did when she was a demon. "Come on, Xander, let's go home. At least we can have sex tonight, right?"
"Oh, I so did not want to hear that," Buffy announced, putting her hands over her ears in mock disgust.
"Jealous much," Xander grinned at her, quoting the unforgettable Queen Cordelia.
"Um, yes," she smiled back at him, as Anya pulled him towards the door. Buffy followed.
"Are you sure you'll be okay Willow," she asked. "Because if you want, I could stay. We could have a real sleepover and everything."
"I'll be fine, Buffy. I think I'll go do some homework. You know how that always takes my mind off of stuff. You go home and get a good night's sleep for once," Willow replied. Buffy always takes care of everyone else, she thought to herself. When will she find someone to take care of her?
"Okay, if you're sure," Buffy answered. She took one last long look at her friend, gave her a hug, and was off into the night, after making sure that Willow closed the door firmly behind her.
All by herself at last, Willow climbed the stairs to her room and instead of doing homework as promised, decided to lay down and hope for sleep. Surprisingly enough, as soon as her eyes closed she was lost in slumber.
~Part: 7~
Willow sat at her computer writing her mid-term composition for Contemporary Lit. She smoothed her oversized nightshirt comfortably over her knees then clasped her hands around the warm cocoa. She was hoping the cocoa would keep her awake long enough to make some progress on her paper. Her parents were gone again at yet another conference. But since their time together in London, she didn't resent it the way she used to. They had their lives to live, she told herself, and she had hers. It's just that sometimes my life sucks, she thought.
For her paper she had chosen the theme "Love and Loss," something she was so very familiar with. Writing helped her deal with everything that had been going on in her life. Things had been going well so she was a little annoyed to hear a knock on the door of her terrace. Still, it could be Buffy or Xander, so she'd better answer the call. She saved her file and walked to the door, pulling open the curtains. Her hand went to the doorknob but one look at the face on the other side of the door stopped her short. It was Bloody Red.
He gave her a quizzical look, almost as if surprised by her hesitation. His lips curled into a slight smile, and he pressed them to the door's edge. "I'm just here to talk," he told her. "You can open the door if you want, I won't be able to get in unless you invite me."
She knew he spoke the truth but was still suspicious of his intentions. Backing away from the door on weak legs, she sat down on her bed and analyzed what he had suggested, looking for a loophole. Much to her surprise, she could not find one.
He looked at her impatiently, sensing her indecision. "Come on, open the door," he urged her. "Or do you want to have this conversation out here, where anyone in the neighborhood can listen in? Do mommy and daddy know about your late-night activities with the Slayer, little one?" he taunted her.
"Shut up," she hissed quietly. God, he made it sound as if she and Buffy were fucking, instead of fighting the forces of evil. How did he manage to make everything sound like sex, she wondered.
Finally, she made up her mind. As she walked to the door she stopped to pick up the stake she had hidden in the middle drawer of her dresser. How many women kept a supply of stakes in their underwear drawer, she wondered. Well, besides her and Buffy, of course.
She slowly opened the door, half-expecting him to try to rush her, even though she was pretty sure he couldn't. Still
"Little one, I'm crushed. You don't trust me," his mocking blue eyes glanced casually towards the stake then locked onto her dark green ones. He looked good she had to admit. Hair, eyes, hands, body, all as handsome as she remembered. But evil, she reminded herself. Extremely evil. Extremely fatal.
Had he killed tonight? Had he destroyed someone else's life before he came here to flirt? Had his lips kissed someone's neck before his fangs broke the skin, drawing in nourishment at the expense of another's existence? The thought made her angry.
"What do you want from me, Bloody Red," she asked him with anger, fear, and maybe just a tad bit of desire burning in her eyes.
"Call me William," he answered, his face a blank, his voice devoid of emotion.
Anger swept through her like the wind. Wanting to hurt him as he'd hurt her, she railed at him: "William? You want me to call you William? Don't even speak his name! You're not him. You'll never be him. Never! You were going to kill me last night. Do you remember that? How would William have felt about that?" She yelled the words at him, chest heaving with emotion.
He just grinned at her as if the storm raging in her eyes had served to amuse him. "Very well," he responded. "I had no idea that the mere mention of his name would cause such a reaction. Such a lot of emotion there." He narrowed his eyes and a twisted smile graced his face, "If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought that you really loved him."
"I I did love him," she gulped. As quickly as her anger appeared, it was gone now. All that remained was sadness and longing. Of its own volition her hand came up to brush away the tears that were falling down her face.
He sneered at her, ignoring her tears. "How could you claim to love him, and then just disappear? You know, he wandered the streets for months looking for her. Looking for you. He was looking for you the night he was turned. Did you know that?"
She looked up at him in shock, everything forgotten except for his words. William had been looking for her when when he was she couldn't even finish the thought. She ran for the bathroom, nausea turning her stomach. Just in time, she leaned over the toilet and lost everything she'd eaten during the last couple of hours.
When she was finished, she sat leaning against the white wall of her bathroom, tears streaming down her face, mind reeling from what Bloody Red had told her. Grasping her knees to her chest, she sat rocking back and forth, hoping against hope that he was lying to her, trying to throw her off balance. But in her heart of hearts she knew that he was telling her the truth. Her William would have searched stubbornly for her, she knew. Then one night he must have run across something that his gentle nature couldn't overcome. It was all her fault, she thought, eyes closing in defeat, forehead resting on her knees.
Finally, when she had cried all she could, she decided to face him again. She refused to be a source of amusement for him, Willow told herself. Slowly she pushed herself up from the floor and walked into the bedroom. Her eyes fastened on the open door, and the lack of a vampire on the threshold. Warily, her eyes searched her room, just in case he had gained entry. Seeing nobody, her eyes again shifted to the door. Arm outstretched, she pushed it closed. Leaning against the door, her eyes searched the shadows outside, looking for some trace of him. All she saw was the wind-tousled trees; all she heard was the low rustling of leaves in the wind.
Tired and saddened, she walked to the bed, a thousand years of suffering falling onto her small shoulders. She slid her body under the covers and closed her eyes, wishing for all the world that she could just sleep forever and never wake up. Sadly, she knew that morning would come soon enough and she would be there to witness it.
~Part: 8~
"I'm gonna stake his undead ass," Buffy said savagely, pacing the floor of Willow's bedroom like a caged tiger, all muscles and tension.
Willow had called her friend as soon as she had herself back under control, relating the details of Bloody Red's visit. Buffy was on the warpath, mad as hell at Bloody Red for what he was putting her friend through. There had to be something she could do to make him stop hurting her friend, Buffy thought, but she just couldn't figure out what. Well, short of killing him, that is. And she was doing her damnedest to do that.
As much as Willow appreciated Buffy's anger and indignation on her behalf, what she really wanted was to be comforted. To have someone hold her and tell her that this would all be over soon, and that it would all be all right. Buffy, however, wasn't ready to calm down enough to do that for Willow. At least not yet.
"Next time he shows, you call me. Immediately. I mean it." She stopped pacing and looked Willow in the eye, as if to make sure that the redhead understood what she was saying and took her promise seriously. "I'll be over here in minutes. Seconds. I won't let him touch you or get anywhere close to you."
Willow appreciated Buffy's assurances, she really did. But the slayer had such a lot of responsibility as it was and she didn't want to add more to her friend's already heavy burden.
"It's okay Buffy, I'm all right, really. I'm maybe I'm just a little rattled." A little, she thought to herself? Who am I trying to kid?
Buffy stopped pacing and sat down next to her on the bed, sympathy and understanding shining in her eyes. "I know that you're confused, Willow. I understand how you feel, probably better than anyone else in the world. Been there, done that. Was going to buy the t-shirt, but it was orange. Not a good color on me." Buffy said, trying to sooth Willow's panicked nerves with her unique brand of humor. But eventually her eyes turned solemn and her voice serious. She really did want to help.
"Your eyes see the man you love, but in your mind, you know that it's not really him, and it tears you up inside." And the nocturnal visit probably didn't help much either, the Slayer thought to herself.
"But that's just part of it, Buffy," Willow told her, her voice mirroring the confusion in her eyes. "He's not even the Spike that I remembered. But he's not William either. He's different. He's, oh, how do I explain this? Spike was always cocky, arrogant, and selfish, but he had a softer side. Oh, I'm not saying that he was all bunnies and kittens or anything like that. But, well, he had feelings. He " Willow sighed in frustration, trying to put her thoughts into words. She looked at Buffy, who stroked her hair gently and gave her a "take your time" face.
"Okay, here's an example," Willow tried again. "Spike was in love with Drusilla. He would have done anything for her. It was a weird, sick, twisted relationship, but there was no doubting that he cared for her, even loved her passionately."
"Wait, back up the story here a minute, Wills," Buffy exclaimed, looking at her friend in disbelief. "You're telling me that Spike, this mean, bad-ass vampire, was in love with Angelus' sanity-challenged childe? I mean she was such a wack job that even Angelus couldn't stand her. And you're saying that this Spike, a master vampire, was actually in love with her?"
"See, that's what was so interesting about Spike. He had a weakness, a soft spot. It would almost have been romantic, if it weren't for the fact that they were both blood-sucking killers, of course." Willow glanced at Buffy, hoping that she was getting at least a portion of her point across.
"But Bloody Red is different," she continued. "He's cold, ruthless, and of course evil. But he's not cocky like Spike was. There's no sign of any kind of weakness. He's a predator through and through. Cold, emotionless, remorseless." She shivered, pulling her arms around herself and hugging tight. "He reminds me more of Angelus than he does Spike."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted saying them. A quick look at Buffy showed her that her friend understood and wouldn't hold it against her.
"I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't mean to bring up such bad memories. But it's true. He's got the heartless, unaffected stuff down to a 'T', just like well, you know who."
Buffy sighed and gave Willow a hug. "I know, I really do understand. And it's not your fault that my life is as twisted as a bag full of extra-twisty pretzels," she said with a smile.
"But as fascinating as the differences are, you know you have to stay away from him, Willow," Buffy got up and started pacing again, as if the movement would help her think, help her explain her concerns. "He's playing with you now, but soon enough he'll get tired of the games. Then things will change. He'll come after you for real, and no amount of fascination or compassion will keep him from killing you. You have to be on your guard, both emotionally and mentally." Good god, when did I start channeling Giles, Buffy wondered.
Then she stopped suddenly, dropping to her knees at Willow's feet, her hands on the other girl's knees. She looked up into the eyes of her friend and wished that she hadn't had to be so harsh. But Willow had to know. She had to understand. "Sorry," she said gently, an apology in her eyes. "It's not easy to hear, but it's the truth. There's just no easy way to say it." Willow just looked back at her with miserable eyes, understanding and accepting the warnings.
"I've got to get moving," Buffy said, jumping up and heading for the door. "I've got a big Psyche test tomorrow, and unless you want to show up and take it for me, I'd better get home and get some sleep. Are you sure you don't want to come home with me? We can have an old-fashioned sleepover, just like when we were kids. Well, except for the part where we sit and talk about boys. Considering our love lives lately, that would just be depressing." Buffy gave Willow one of her silly grins.
The redhead giggled, already feeling better because of her friend's comments. Buffy could always cheer her up, no matter what was going on in their lives. "No, Buffy, I'll be fine. I've got a little homework to finish up and then I'm going to go to bed too. And if Bloody Red comes by again, I will call you immediately."
"You promise?" asked Buffy.
"You betcha," her friend answered with a smile.
~Part: 9~
It was a hot, sultry night; the air thick and still. The temperatures had been in the 80s for almost a week straight now, and there was no end in sight. Willow had hesitated to leave her windows and door open, but she did it anyway, rationalizing to herself that the worst thing that could happen to her couldn't happen unless she went outside. Or invited him in. And no, she wasn't going to do that.
Willow was again sitting at her desk working on her computer. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she updated her computer diary. She had started her diary initially as a way to express her feelings of frustration, confusion and loss. Years later she was still chronicling her thoughts. Although her situation had changed from year to year, she always made sure she kept her diary up-to-date. Not only did it help her deal with what was going on in her life at the moment, but also it was strangely calming to have somewhere where she could share her deepest, darkest secrets. There were some things that she'd never be able to say to Buffy or Xander for fear of their rejection, disgust, or even worse, pity.
She was so deeply engrossed in her endeavor that she never even noticed the cold blue eyes surveying her from the other side of her French doors. He had been standing in the shadows watching her for half an hour now, allowing the quiet click-click-click of her nimble fingers on the keyboard to lull him into a more passive posture than he'd intended. What else were those fingers good at he wondered, a smirk lurking behind his usually impassive face. It was fascinating to watch the emotions fly across her face. First anger, pain, fear, and then, finally, relaxation and serenity. Just what was it she was doing that brought out such strong emotions in her, he wondered. In his arrogance he decided that it must have something to do with him. Them.
Finally he could stand it no longer, he had to know. He knocked on the wooden frame of the door and as she whirled in her seat to face him, he gave her a cool, appraising look and threw out the first words that came into his head.
"I've decided to let you live," he said. What the bloody hell was that, he wondered, slightly disgusted with himself. He had been working on the perfect opening line for half an hour, and that was the best he could come up?
She looked at him in confusion, unsure of what to make of his sudden appearance. And the words, those were rather unexpected as well. They would be welcome, if she could trust him. But whom was she kidding; she couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him.
"And I'm supposed to believe you," she finally replied, eyes dull and tired. "Oh, because of that surprise lobotomy I had last weekend, right?" She watched his face darken with anger and decided that pissing off the homicidal vampire was probably not her smartest move. Wait, homicidal vampire? Wasn't that an oxymoron?
"Just what are you doing here anyway? Thought you'd take another whack at making me miserable, was that it," she asked with pain and anger in her eyes. "Well it won't work this time, mister. I'm not going to let you make me feel guilty, do you hear me?" She fairly shook with the strength and depth of her feelings as she uttered the last words, and tears started to fall softly from her eyes.
I still have an effect on her, he thought. That was interesting. The pain in her eyes, the anger in her voice, they all combined made her look stunning, the most spectacular sight he'd seen in decades. He'd have given anything he had to be able to walk through those doors and taste her tears. The very thought was making him hard. That wasn't why he was here though, he reminded himself. As much fun as it was to torture the little thing, he had to remember his goal, his reason for being here tonight. He thought of the least sexy thing he could: Ronald McDonald giving head to Jerry Springer. Yes, he thought with a cold smile, that did the trick, as it always did.
"Relax, child," he commanded derisively, spitting the last word out like it was an insult. "I came here tonight to talk." Her tears stopped falling and a look of curiosity entered her eyes. Yes, that had gotten her attention.
"Don't wanna talk," she mumbled softly, covering her face with her hands and turning in her chair so her back was to him.
"Doesn't matter what you want," He answered tightly, annoyed by her reaction. "LOOK AT ME," he thundered, wanting her full attention.
Her head whipped around in surprise, carrying the rest of her body so that she faced him. Her eyes flew to his. What was he after?
"It's like this, Red. You messed with my life. I figure you owe me an explanation, at the very least." It really was the truth. Knowledge was power, and he wanted-no, he needed-to know what happened and why. How and why she had come to him all those years ago, and why that chance encounter had changed his life, and his unlife, forever. She owed him those answers.
Willow considered his request, looking for the loophole. How could he use the truth against her; use it to gain the upper hand? She couldn't see a way. Couldn't think of a reason to deny him this request. And it was because of her that his life had taken this strange turn. She did at least owe him an explanation as to why she had done what she'd done.
Her mind made up, she got up and walked over to the open door and sat Indian-style in front of it, motioning for him to sit down as well, facing her.
He looked at the spot Willow was indicating and decided to do as she requested. They sat face to face, just the two of them, with only the invisible barrier separating them. I could reach out with my hand, through the barrier, and touch him, she thought, wanting so badly for things to be different. But the magical barrier remained between them, as well as many other, less palpable barriers.
"It's kind of a long story," she started softly, by way of explanation. "We might as well both be comfortable."
"If you say so," he acknowledged off-handedly. He was affected by her nearness, but was determined not to show it.
"So," he prompted, looking at her expectantly. "What's it all about?"
"Well, it all started about 5 years ago, because of a vampire named Spike "
~Part: 10~
It was nearly 3am by the time Willow had finished her narrative. Bloody Red had been a patient listener, interrupting her only once or twice, and then only asking Willow to elaborate on a few of the more confusing points. He'd have to leave soon, he thought, but he had just a few more questions to ask.
"So I was this Spike, this bad-ass vampire, and I was part of the Clan Aurelius? Hmmm I think I might be better off now. Maybe I owe you a thanks after all," he said, thinking out loud. He had heard of Angelus, now Angel. One of the cruelest most feared master vampires of this era. The name used to strike fear into vampires everywhere. Now Angelus was basically leashed, cursed with a soul. How pathetic was that? And, this Spike, he had been in love with Drusilla? He must have been a masochist with a screw loose, he thought. From all accounts she was a real loon. He couldn't imagine him having serious feelings for any woman, much less that particular one.
"So you see, maybe there's no reason to be mad at me at all," Willow babbled, painfully eager. "Besides, if you if Spike hadn't been so bad, well, there wouldn't have been any reason to do what I did, right?"
"I wouldn't be getting all proud of yourself just yet, little girl," he said with a slight smirk, reminding her strangely of Spike. Then the expression faded, as did his resemblance to a vampire that only she remembered.
He got up and started pacing the terrace, thinking about what she had told him and what, if anything, he could do with the information. Still, it was good to know what had happened and why.
She must be a fairly powerful witch to have been able to send herself back in time like that, even if it was a bit of a fluke. He could use her talents, he thought. Perhaps he should try and turn her. Between her magical abilities, and the way that her death would affect the Slayer, he could kill to birds with one very sharp set of fangs. He'd have to think about the matter carefully, but it was definitely something to consider.
Until then, he'd have to be careful to control his thoughts and keep any inkling of his plans from becoming known. She seemed relatively easy to get to now, but if the others knew of his intentions, it would make it harder for him to put them into action. Then again, he could always out-wait them. He truly had all the time in the world.
"So, what happens now," she inquired, trying to figure out exactly what was going through his mind. "I mean, will you leave town, get on with your life, maybe," she asked optimistically.
Her hopeful question made him smile to himself. No, he wouldn't be leaving this town anytime soon, he thought silently. There were so many interesting things he wanted to do, and things he wanted to do to her. He pictured her on his bed, naked, her eyes glazed with passion.
"Don't know yet, luv. Probably be moving on sooner or later, I guess," he said nonchalantly. He watched as hope kindled in her eyes. Let her think she was safe, he thought. Once she got used to seeing him around she would drop her guard. It only had to happen once, and he'd be there to take advantage of it.
"Sun'll be up soon, I'd best be going. Thanks for the talk," he tossed the words to her over his shoulder as he jumped smoothly from her terrace to the soft ground below. Willow watched from inside her door as he made his way down the tree-lined street, a smooth shadowy figure, and then faded into the darkness.
Well that was almost pleasant, she thought to herself as she closed her door and stepped to her bed. It was late, or early, depending on how you looked at it. If she went to sleep now, she'd only get an hour or two before she had to get up and go to school. On the other hand, if she went to the computer and updated her diary, well, it might be better not to go to sleep at all. She'd pulled all-nighters before, usually studying for tests. This might be a little different, but why not.
As she sat down and typed her feelings into her diary, she thought about what had happened tonight. Yes, he had scared her initially. But as she spent more time with him, she realized that he was not quite what he had seemed during their previous encounters. She had thought that he was detached and emotionless but she realized now that she had been wrong. She had seen flashes of humor, passion, and intelligence in his eyes. He was extremely good at hiding them, that's all, much better than William or even Spike had ever been. The more she had talked to him, the more he had let his guard down. And the more he did that, the more she saw in him reminded her of William and even Spike. She sighed deeply. The men in her life: Bloody Red, William and Spike. What a combination. What a confusing combination.
On the plus side, she reminded herself, he didn't seem like he wanted to kill her anymore. Maybe she could go back to having more of an ordinary existence, she thought hopefully. Living as a prisoner in her own house had begun to grate on her nerves. She needed to get out and have a normal life again. Or at least as normal of a life as she could have on the Hellmouth, she reminded herself.