Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing at all. Wish I did! Oh, and don't sue <g>
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 gives me such wonderful feedback. You know who you are <g>.
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~Part: 11~
Willow's day passed in a sleepy haze. Her teachers were surprised. Their usually alert and intelligent student seemed barely able to keep her eyes open. Usually one of the first to raise her hand to answer a question, today Willow let the others do the thinking for her. All she wanted was for the last bell to ring so she could hurry home to some well-deserved, and longed-for, sleep. Finally the three o'clock bell rang and she headed out the classroom door, hoping for a quick stop at her locker and then an even quicker walk home where the oblivion of sleep waited for her.
But of course, it didn't quite work out that way. As she rounded the final corner off campus, she heard Buffy yell her name, then listened to her footsteps as she sprinted to catch up with Willow.
"What's the haps, Wills? You seemed like you were really out of it today. Better be careful, or you might lose that 'Teacher's Pet of the Year' award," Buffy teased her with an easy grin. They fell into a comfortable gait, turning down the street for the short walk to Willow's house.
"Umm … just tired, that's all," Willow replied without enthusiasm, trying to stifle yet another yawn. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to talk about what had happened last night just yet. A part of her wanted to keep those hours to herself, analyze them, and then recount them to the group when she was sure exactly how she felt about them.
"Didn't sleep well last night," Buffy asked sympathetically. "I got these new candles you should try. Aromatherapy. Giles suggested them as a way to get in touch with my 'Inner Slayer' and all that stuff. Of course, he wouldn't say it like that, since he's got the whole 'stuffy Englishman' thing going, you know. I think he told me that they would help me concentrate my energies or some such crap. All I know is, they're great for relaxing. Anyway, what you do is light them in the bathroom, turn out all the lights, and take a nice bubble bath. Next thing you know, you're dead to the world. Oh, but 'dead to the world' in the good way, not in the 'grrrrr' way," Buffy clarified with a grin.
"Sounds like fun," her friend said with a slight lack of interest. Guess it's time to come clean with the truth. Damn the consequences and full steam ahead, she decided with a tired smile.
"Well," Willow started hesitantly, "I was going to tell you this later, but … he came by again last night." She knew she didn't have to tell Buffy who 'he' was.
Buffy stopped walking and grabbed Willow's arm, halting her progress as well. The redhead looked around and realized that they were already in front of her house, so the two friends sat down on the front lawn. Buffy looked at her with concern and Willow felt her face turn red. Damn blushing, she thought. Why did her body have to do that to her? Sure, some guys claimed they found it charming, but to her it was just an embarrassment.
"Why didn't you call me, Wills," Buffy asked, pain shading her voice. "You promised, remember? If he came back you were going to call me, and I'd help you get rid of him. You don't have to go through this alone. God, if he had done anything to you Wills …" her voice trailed off.
"But he didn't, Buffy. He was … different last night," Willow responded eagerly. She knew that her friend didn't believe her, so she set about convincing her. "He just wanted to talk. Really. He--he asked me what I had done to him, and why, and I told him, told him all about the spell, and about Spike, and he was okay with it, really, and then I asked if he'd be leaving now, leaving town, that is, and he said he might, and …" Willow stopped, slightly out of breath from her ramble. What she didn't tell Buffy was that she wasn't sure how she felt about him leaving. There was still some confusion in her mind about that.
"Sounds to me like he's up to something, Willow. Remember, the demon can be very appealing when it wants something. Something like your confidence, your trust, your body, or your life, for instance. Don't fall for it, please," Buffy implored her.
"Is it so hard to believe that maybe, just maybe, he felt something for me," Willow asked, a little hurt. Buffy was the one who was supposed to understand her, believe in her. Yet she didn't seem to trust Willow. Or maybe it's just my judgment she doesn't trust, she thought painfully. Maybe she shouldn't have told Buffy what had happened after all.
"All I'm saying, Willow," Buffy began, squeezing her friend's hand gently, "is that you still need to be careful. I'm not saying that he couldn't care for you, I'm just saying that there is a chance that he might be trying to trick you."
To be truthful, Buffy didn't believe a word of it. From what she had observed, Bloody Red had been just as cruel and ruthless as any other vampire she'd ever come across, with the exception of her soulmate Angel. To imagine that this 'Bloody Red' cared for Willow at all was a leap of faith that Buffy just wasn't prepared to make. She knew that her friend was going through a rough time, but she had to be sure that Willow understood how devious and tricky a vampire could be, especially a Master Vampire who had an as-yet unknown agenda.
Willow stifled yet another yawn, and Buffy realized that she needed to let her friend go and get some much-needed sleep. She stood up and stretched, then took off towards the library for a couple of hours of training with Giles. Maybe he could think of some way to reach Willow, because she suspected that Willow still didn't take this situation seriously enough.
"Call me tonight, Wills, after you've had some sleep. We still need to talk," Buffy called back over her shoulder, in her best 'we're not done with this subject yet, young woman' voice.
Willow grabbed the reprieve she had been given gratefully. All she really wanted right now was to spend a couple of hours of quality time with her head on her pillow.
"I'll call later, I promise. Bye Buffy," she replied sleepily, waving good-bye to her friend's retreating figure. In the door, up the stairs and into her bedroom in record time, Willow threw off her clothes and snuggled under her covers. No homework now, she thought. Sleep.
~Part: 12~
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Willow thought the words over and over to herself, beating in time to the sound of her feet on the pavement. She knew better than this. Being out alone after dark was one of the cardinal sins of a slayerette. But she hadn't had any choice in the matter. Not really.
She blamed her parents for her current predicament. Her mother had called at 4:45 from yet another convention in New York. Or was it New Jersey? New Orleans? At any rate Willow was reasonably sure it started with the letter N.
Her mother was just *desperate* for a book that they had at the house and insisted that Willow drop it at the nearest Fed-Ex office so it could be in her hot little hand first thing the next morning. Apparently they didn't have any bookstores in New York, Willow thought bitterly. Or was it New Jersey? Whatever.
So Willow made tracks to the store and dropped off the book, ensuring that it would be there in time to save the day for mom. Now she was on her way home, after dark, all by herself. Hence her current mantra of 'stupid, stupid, stupid.' She had *tried* to find an escort, really she had. But Xander wasn't answering his phone and Buffy was training with Giles and the clock was ticking. Willow decided to go it alone and hope for the best. After all, it was early still. Hopefully she'd be able to slip by unnoticed by all the assorted demons and vampires in the city.
Only 2 blocks from home, she thought. Almost safe. That was when she heard it, the soft sounds of footfalls behind her. She quickened her pace, hoping she was just imagining things. Or maybe it was someone trying to play a trick on her. Please, she pleaded silently, please don't let it be who I think it is.
"Excuse me, miss," said a voice behind her. She slowed, turned, but continued to edge her way towards home and safety. The man looked normal enough. Fairly non-descript, really. Medium height, medium brown hair, medium brown eyes. Altogether normal, altogether human.
"Yes? Um, can I help you," she asked hesitantly, ready to run at the slightest movement on his part.
"Please, young woman," he started, taking a small step and then stumbling towards her. She came closer, holding out a hand to help him. Suddenly he recovered and grabbed her arm, jerking her towards him. As she realized how truly stupid she had been, she saw an evil grin replace the harmless look he'd given her earlier. Irony stared her in the face. She had been trying for so long to stay clear of demons and vampires that she had completely forgotten that there were other truly evil beings out there, beings that were evil by choice and not by nature.
"Now this is nice," he whispered, arms reaching around to enclose her figure and pull her up against his hard warm body in a parody of a lover's hug. "Oh, and in case you had any thoughts about screaming, here's a little reminder." She saw him take out a small knife and put it up to her throat, stopping just short of piercing the skin. Tears flooded her terror-filled eyes, but she stilled her struggles.
He used his leg to sweep her feet out from under her and dropped her to the pavement, then dragged her by her arms into a nearby yard. Her mind raced, trying to calmly and rationally find a way out of the situation. Screaming was out, and as long as he had the knife, so was struggling. As he sat down and straddled her thighs, she gave up rational thought and was about to start praying to anyone and everyone she could think of.
Slowly, obviously enjoying himself, he cut the buttons holding her shirt together. One by one they fell away and soon her shirt was open and he was looking hungrily at her white cotton bra. Leisurely the knife came back again, reaching for the straps of the bra. Then, before Willow knew what was happening, she was free. The oppressive weight that sat on her thighs was gone, and as she looked up she could see her assailant fly across the lawn, hitting a tree trunk and crumpling to the ground.
"Oh thank god, it must be Buffy," she thought. She tried to get up but her panicked legs wouldn't obey her commands and she sunk back onto the soft grass once again. Then she saw who her rescuer was, and all the terror came flooding back to her face. It was Bloody Red and he was heading straight towards her. His expression was impassive but rage burning in his eyes.
Move, legs, move, she ordered. But it was like one of those nightmares where every step away from the danger brought you two steps closer. All she could manage was a slow crawl away from him. Soon he was standing over her shivering body, looking down at her with those angry eyes.
"Get up," he demanded.
She just sat there staring up at him, sure that each breath would be her last. "I can't," she said quietly.
"Bloody hell, Red," he swore. "Haven't we done this before?" And just like the last time, over a century before, he swung her up into his arms. She tried to struggle, tried to get away from him, but he wasn't letting her go. Slowly, with her fighting him every inch of the way, he walked the two blocks remaining to her home.
As they reached the front door he put her gently onto her feet. He even helped her regain her balance while she looked for her key and unlocked the door. She looked at him questioningly, wondering if he was really going to let her go inside. He let go of her and motioned towards the door. Needing no further invitation, she quickly walked inside and immediately collapsed onto the floor again.
"Call the Slayer," he told her.
She shook her head, dazed, not sure why he was doing what he was doing. Why did he want her to call Buffy? Was he going to try to attack her?
"Bugger," he yelled at her. "Fine, I'll do it myself," he told her, pulling out a small cell phone.
Vampires with cell phones? The very idea was so ludicrous that she started to giggle. Slowly the giggles turned into deep sobs and she curled into a small ball of Willow-shaped agony and wept as though her life was over.
Bloody Red looked at her form with something in his eyes. Could it have been concern? Quickly calling information, he was connected to the Slayer's number, and spoke quickly into the phone. "Come take care of your friend," he commanded.
Willow couldn't hear both sides of the conversation but she heard Buffy pepper him with questions, her voice getting higher and louder as he listened silently.
"You know who this is. And you know whom I'm talking about. Just get over here. Now, damnit," he finished and disconnected the call.
He glanced at her again, wondering why he cared, then walked to the street and was soon out of sight.
~Part: 13~
"Willow, oh god, Willow," Buffy screamed as she ran across Willow's front yard and up the front steps. As she neared the door she could see Willow's still form on the floor, the only sign of life the tears making tracks down her face.
She grabbed Willow and then quickly let her go again as Willow thrashed and fought her to get to the other side of the room, sitting scrunched up in the big easy chair.
Buffy took in her face, her tattered clothes, and knew immediately what had happened. "That bastard," she spit out the words. "I won't kill him, at least not immediately. I'll torture him. For hours, days, weeks. Oh god, Willow, what did he do to you? Did he…" she trailed off, unable to say the words. Tears slid silently down her cheeks, mirroring the tears on Willow's face.
Finally Buffy's words seemed to penetrate Willow's agony. She got a grip on herself, her brain slowly taking control of her emotions. She couldn't let her friend go after Bloody Red, not for this.
"Buffy, it wasn't him. It wasn't Bloody Red," she managed to whisper. It hurt so much to stop crying, to try to regain control. But she had to do it; she had to make sure Buffy understood.
"What do you mean, Willow," Buffy asked her in confusion. "He called me. He told me to come over here. He obviously hurt you, knowing it would hurt me as well."
"No, Buffy. No, he saved me. I was…there was…this guy, he tried to…" she couldn't finish it. Couldn't say the words. They had come too close to being true.
"I know, I know," Buffy said. She came and sat on the floor next to Willow's chair, hesitantly reaching out to take her hand. When Willow allowed that contact, she continued to talk. "So it was someone else who…attacked you? Another vampire?"
"It was, oh god, Buffy, it wasn't a demon. Wasn't a vampire either. It was just an ordinary man. But he was strong. Stronger than me. And…and he had a knife too. I tried, really I did," her eyes begged Buffy to understand.
"Shhh, it's okay. I know you fought as hard as you could, Wills. Sometimes the evil is just too strong." Buffy reached out and stroked Willow's arm, her shoulder, her hair, anything that she could do to give comfort to her friend's shattered soul. They sat there like that for several minutes; each wishing there was a way to rid the world of such evil.
Finally Buffy broke the silence. "Willow," she asked softly, "how did you get home? How did you get free?"
Willow was quiet for so long that Buffy wondered if she was going to answer the question. She was about to ask it again when Willow finally looked down and answered with two simple words, "Bloody Red."
Buffy looked confused so Willow went on, "I thought he was going to-to rape me. He was so close, so close," she stopped again, then tilted her chin determinedly and then continued, "and then he was gone. He was flying through the air. I thought it was you," she confessed eagerly. "Then I saw who it was. And I thought I was dead. I was sure of it. But-but he just came over and picked me up and took me home. He didn't try to come inside or anything."
"Let me get this straight," Buffy replied cautiously, "he just picked you up and took you home. He didn't try to hurt you or bite you or anything?"
"No, he was nice. Well, by vampire standards, at least," Willow amended. "He told me to call you, but I just couldn't move, not yet. So he called you. He had a cell phone." The thought of a vampire with a cell phone still amused Willow. A cautious smile crept across her face at the thought.
Buffy smiled too. Whatever his motivations might have been, Bloody Red seemed to have done something good. I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose though, she thought uncharitably. Still, Willow was with her, in one piece, and with the help of some good friends and some time, she might be able to make it through this.
"You need to get a bag together. I'm taking you to my house. I'm not taking no for an answer, okay?"
"Okay," Willow acquiesced, more relieved than anything. The thought of spending the night alone in the house was more than she could bear. She wandered upstairs and threw clothes aimlessly into a small overnight bag. Once she was reasonably sure she had one of everything in the bag, she moved to the bathroom and again mechanically did her best to put everything she needed into it.
Eventually she wandered back downstairs and she and Buffy left for the comfort of a warm full house and the chocolate sundae that Buffy had promised her would make everything all right.
~Part: 14~
Willow was sitting at her keyboard waiting for inspiration to strike. A week had passed since the attack and Willow was doing her best to get her life back to normal. She had spent the last week with Buffy and her mother but had now reluctantly bid goodbye to the security of the Summers' household and had returned to her own empty house. Buffy and Joyce had both asked her to stay longer, but she knew that sooner or later she would have to go it alone again. A week, she thought. Seven days. A nice round number.
I can do this, she told herself. Maybe if I say it often enough, I'll even believe it.
She opened her computer diary and tried to think of something to say but the words just wouldn't come. She hadn't been able to update it for a week and there were so many things she wanted to say. So many different thoughts that they all seemed to get caught in one big logjam that refused to break.
She stared blankly at the screen until a small movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention. Lounging out on her terrace was Bloody Red. He wore his trademark duster and a cigarette dangled from his lips. He stood silently, eyes concentrating on her as if she were a subject he was trying to study. He had been absent from her life for the last week, but every so often she had a strange feeling that she was being watched. Had it been him, or just her imagination? She couldn't be sure.
Willow got up and walked slowly to the door, eyes locked on his. When she opened door and leaned against the doorjamb, he slipped over to her and took up a position opposite her on his own side of the door.
"So you're back, then," he stated.
"I'm back," she agreed. "I-I wanted to thank you," she said, "but I didn't get a chance, then. So I'll say it now. Thank you. I don't understand why you did it, but I'm grateful."
"Don't know exactly why I did it, myself," he replied. "Vampires act a lot on instinct, I guess. That's as good a reason as any, I suppose."
She looked into his expressionless face and wished she could figure out what he was thinking. Sometimes he seemed almost understandable. But each time she thought she had him figured out, he'd change like a chameleon, and she'd be left with an entirely new puzzle.
"Guess you owe me one, luv," he said with a gentle smirk.
"I guess I do," she agreed quietly.
"You know what they say, luv. When a man saves another person's life, that person owes the man his life."
Willow knew where he was heading with this and figured she'd cut him off before he could work a guilt trip on her.
"Good try, mister, but you didn't save my life, not really. He wasn't going to kill me. So instead of owing you my life, I only owe you-" she stopped herself quickly, as she realized where that train of thought was leading her. She could feel the flames of embarrassment licking her face, all the way down to her toes. I *so* did not almost say that, she thought to herself.
He grinned at her embarrassment, eyes mocking. "What was that, Red? Did you say something, hmm?"
"Shut up," she muttered through gritted teeth. How did he always manage to do that to her? Make her feel like some sort of immature child. She was an adult, for heaven's sake. A practicing Wicca. She had done things that most people her age had never even imagined. But every time she faced him, she turned back into that shy insecure girl she used to be. And he reveled in it.
"So we both agree that you owe me," he said softly, his voice tingling up and down her skin. "And I'm guessing a quick shag is out of the question, then," he added, eyes twinkling. "Or you could come out here and give me a quick drink. I promise it won't hurt…much," he continued with a smile that promised both heaven and hell.
She just looked at him, eyes flashing with controlled anger. She should have known that he would never have helped her without an ulterior motive.
"I have a compromise, though," he told her quietly.
"What? What is your compromise," asked Willow breathlessly.
"You said before that you'd never call me William. Would you call me Will," he asked, his eyes staring deep into hers.
"That's-that's it," she asked, eyes widening in surprise. "I call you Will, and my debt is paid in full?" She couldn't believe that he would let her go that easily. What was he up to?
"That's it," he confirmed, his expression serious.
"Okay," Willow replied, confusion etched on her face.
"Okay…"
"Okay, Will," she added, trying to get used to the sound of the name. In a strange way it seemed right to call him that. He was no longer William, but he was not Spike either. And Bloody Red was just such a bloody mouthful, she thought to herself with a giggle.
He watched the emotions play across her face. Surprise, mistrust, resolve, and, strangely enough, humor. She was as much of an enigma to him as he was to her.
She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, remembering that she hadn't had a really peaceful night's sleep in over a week. Will noticed her movement and decided to let her go.
"I'll say goodnight then," he told her, his face once again a frustrating mask.
"Thank you, Will. For everything, I mean," she said. "And goodnight." With that, she closed the door and slid into her bed. She could feel his eyes on her still form, watching her from out on the terrace. For some reason, instead of disturbing her, the thought comforted her. Quickly she fell into a deep, restful sleep.
~Part: 15~
Willow turned and kicked, sending the vampire who had been trying to bite her onto his back. Quickly she threw the holy water into his eyes and while he was writhing in pain, she struck, sticking the stake straight into his unbeating heart. Her movements were awkward but effective. Then to her left, another vampire. Same moves, same results. But there were just too many of them. Grunts and screams split the night like lightning, as a still substantial number of vampires attacked, gradually separating Willow and her friends from one another.
She had taken out three by herself, but Willow could feel her strength slipping. Her breath heaved in her chest and her movements seemed slower and slower. She glanced over to Buffy and Xander, hoping that one of them could come help her. But they were surrounded as well, and although they were fighting their way towards her, they still had a substantial amount of resistance.
Kick, twirl, stake, move away, and thrust, her movements continued. Then it happened. She tripped over her own feet and she was down on the ground. Fatigue had finally caught up with her and she was unable to stop herself.
Before she could move the vampire was on her, her grey eyes staring at Willow hungrily. The redhead struggled ineffectively, arms and feet trying to dislodge the creature that was straddling her stomach. As the vampire's blood-red lips moved inexorably towards Willow's throat, her thoughts turned to all the things she'd never done. I've never been in a hot air balloon, she thought to herself. Or made love on the beach. Or driven a sports car. So maybe her thoughts weren't terribly profound, she thought, but hey, imminent death here.
She felt the rush of air as the vampire's lips hungrily traced the pulse in her neck. Then, as she gave an ear-splitting shriek, she felt the fangs sink into her neck. The pressure and the pain were incredible. She screamed again, but the vampire had placed her hand over Willow's mouth and all that came out was a muffled groan. She felt her blood leaving her body, pulled forcibly by the vampire's mouth. Her consciousness started slipping away. Slowly the effort to stay awake became too much to bear. Her eyes fluttered closed and she started drifting away on a soft cloud, the noises of the fight coming from further and further away.
Suddenly she felt a tearing and the fangs were gone. She was free. But she couldn't bring herself back; her consciousness was too far away, floating miles from her body. She struggled to return, willing her mind back into its mortal shell.
Then, when it seemed like she might be able to do it, might be able to fight her way back to consciousness, she felt another body on hers. As she sensed another face next to hers, felt hands on her cheeks keeping her head immobilized, she knew that this time she would not be able to fight back. She was going to die. She felt the face touch hers, the brush of lips on her still-leaking bite. But instead of tearing into her throat like the last vampire had done, this one licked at the bite marks gently, like a cat lapping at a bowl of cream. Slowly, Willow felt the flow of her blood stop.
Finally she had the strength to open her eyes. As she suspected, the blue eyes above her belonged to Will.
"Why," she asked, confused.
"Why what," he answered, looking into her deep green eyes.
"Why are you helping me? Not that I'm complaining," she continued quickly. "Dying wasn't really on my list of things to do today."
"Could have fooled me," he grumbled, giving her a look that she couldn't quite define. "Why the hell are you here, Red? You're not a Slayer. This is her fight, not yours."
"Just because I'm not the Slayer doesn't mean I can't contribute," she told him angrily. She was so sick of people telling her that she couldn't fight, couldn't help.
"Contribute to the body count, maybe," he snapped back. "You nearly got yourself killed tonight. If it weren't for me, you would be just so much dead meat right now. You realize that, don't you?"
She stared at him, trying to figure out if he cared. And if he did care, why? Was he afraid someone else would kill her before he had a chance to?
"Get away from her, you bastard!" Willow looked up and saw Xander running towards her, fury in his eyes.
"I'm okay, Xander. He was helping me. He…he saved my life." Will got off Willow and pulled her up to her feet, throwing her roughly into Xander's arms.
"Take better care of her, she's not tough enough for this," he told Xander before he turned and melted into the brush behind them.
Willow started to feel dizzy again, sinking to the soft earth still wrapped in Xander's arms. He laid her out on the ground, sitting beside her and pulling her head into his lap. As they sat quietly, he ran his hand through her hair and murmured soft nonsense into her ear.
She heard Buffy approach, concern surfacing in her eyes as she realized that Willow was hurt.
"Oh god, Willow, are you okay? I tried to get to you but they kept ringing me in and I couldn't kill them fast enough. I've never seen so many at once. I thought I saw Bloody Red, but when I looked over again, he was gone. Did he do that to you," she asked, eyeing the deep marks on her neck.
"No, he didn't feel like sloppy seconds, I guess," Xander answered with a sick grin.
Willow and Buffy shared an "eww" look and Buffy thwacked Xander on the head.
"Jeez, between you and Anya, I'm going to be black and blue for days," he griped.
"Okay, I don't *even* want to hear about your and Anya's sex life," Buffy fired back, watching him turn red.
"Again with the eww," Willow said, giggling softly. She lifted her head and surprisingly enough, the world stayed still and didn't swim in front of her eyes or swirl around in a dizzying rush. Encouraged by her success, she leaned against Xander's sitting form and pushed herself upright.
"C'mon Willow, let's get you home," Buffy said, supporting her friend on one side as Xander rose and took her other arm. Willow wanted to protest that she could do it on her own, but she had to admit to herself that it was a lie. As much as she wanted to be strong, she knew that she had come very close to losing her life tonight. It was a sobering thought, and one that she didn't want to think about just now.
As the three ambled their way to Willow's house, cracking jokes and laughing like the children they were, they never noticed the shadowy figure that followed them, his blue eyes never straying from the redhead.
~Part: 16~
Willow raced through the woods, tree branches tearing at her clothes and whipping into her face. Ever second she wasted terrified her. Her thoughts went back to her friends, trapped, possibly hurt, or maybe even dead.
They had been doing the usual patrolling thing when they noticed a strange blue light coming from one of the older mausoleums. Buffy, Xander and Anya had all entered the mausoleum while Willow had bent down to tie her shoe. As she stretched up, she heard Xander's voice, soon followed by Buffy's.
"What the hell?"
"Shit! Don't come in, Willow. It's a trap."
"What? What sort of a trap. What are you talking about?" she asked fearfully, trying to distinguish their shapes in the odd light. They seemed okay, but something was definitely wrong.
"A trap where you're stuck like an animal and can't get out, *that* sort of trap," Anya responded snidely, the panic in her voice becoming obvious.
"Buffy, what do you want me to do? Should I go get Giles? Or maybe I should go to the magic shop and try to reverse whatever's going on? Do you see anyone else in there with you? Will you be safe for a while, do you think?"
Buffy's calm voice floated back out to her, alleviating some of her panic. "We're fine for now, Wills. We're just caught. I can't lift my feet at all, it's like I'm stuck in flypaper. Suddenly I have a whole new affinity for flies."
"Go get Giles," she continued. "He'll know what to do about this. Just make it quick, okay?"
"I don't like the idea of leaving you in there," Willow admitted, "but you're right, there's nothing I can do by myself. I'll get Giles and we'll figure out how to get you out of there."
"Run like the wind, young grasshopper," came Xander's teasing voice. Although how he could joke about this was beyond Willow. She just frowned and shook her head.
"Okay, leaving now, back soon," she said, as she started jogging the short distance to Giles' apartment.
**********************
"Giles! Giles, are you here?" she yelled into the dusky apartment. "Please, please, be here!" she prayed. Her eyes raked every inch of the space, looking for some sign of the Watcher. Then her eyes saw the note in his careful handwriting, taped to the television. She walked over and picked it up, eager for some clue that would lead her to her absent mentor.
"Willow, Buffy, Xander, et. al, I've gone to the store to get some orange juice and other items. I will return shortly. Please tell Xander not to eat the rest of my corn flakes, as I am almost out. Be back in a bit. -Giles"
"Damn, damn, damn, damn," not usually one to use such language, Willow none-the-less felt that it was justified in circumstances such as these. When had he left? 'Back in a bit,' he had written. Could he be a little less vague, she thought irritably. And why couldn't he get a stupid pager or a cell phone? She needed him now, not 'in a bit.' What was she going to do now? Try to track down Giles? Try to go back and help Buffy and the others? Or pick up some ingredients for a spell? She sighed in frustration and uncertainty.
Well she couldn't just stand here and do nothing. A thought came to her and she pawed through Giles' weapons stash, grabbing as many knives, blades, and even small guns as she could carry concealed on herself. She'd go back to the cemetery and see if she could get some of these to the captives. That way they could at least defend themselves if something came for them. In the meantime, she jotted a quick note, succinctly explaining the situation and what she had already done, and taped it to the television directly underneath Giles' note. Hopefully he would see it and head over when he returned. That was the best she could do for now, she thought, as she raced back out the door, slamming it behind her.
**********************
Once again she flew through the dark night, every muscle in her body aching in protest. Her mind was caught up with frightening possibilities, her body on autopilot. She didn't even notice the dark figure blocking her path until she ran smack into the hard body, sending them both tumbling to the ground. She came to rest with that dark figure lying on top of her.
"Not that I necessarily mind the view, little one, but what's the big rush," drawled Will, looking down into her frightened eyes with predatory interest.
"Get off of me," she gritted through clenched teeth. "I've-I'm late, I have to go. Now," she told him urgently, trying to force his body to the side so that she could continue her flight. But he wasn't going to let her go that easily. He looked questioningly into her eyes, but they gave nothing away. Finally he rolled to the side and then moved gracefully up to his feet. He held out his hand for her, and she let him pull her to her feet.
"And just where were you headed, by yourself, in the middle of the night, utterly defenseless," he asked her silkily. Hadn't she learned anything from their previous encounters? You'd think she'd figure out that it just wasn't smart to be out alone after dark. Maybe she wasn't quite as intelligent as he had thought she was.
"I-I can't tell you," she mumbled, trying to inch her way past him in order to take flight again.
"If you try to get away, I'll just follow you. You might as well tell me what's got you in such a tizzy. That's the only way you're going to get rid of me."
Precious seconds ticked by for every word they exchanged. Willow knew she had to get away from him. She couldn't tell him what she was doing, she reasoned, because the first thing he'd try to do was attack Buffy. Although maybe he'd get stuck in there too. She hadn't thought of that before…maybe she could tell him. Or let him follow her. Whichever.
"Okay, I'm only giving in and telling you this because I'm in a hurry and you're wasting my time," she told him with a touch of annoyance in her tone.
He grinned at her irritation, folding his arms over his chest and looking at her with amusement shining in his eyes. "Do go on," he told her, seemingly fascinated.
"We were patrolling the cemetery and there was this mausoleum with this weird light emanating from it. So Buffy, Xander and Anya went in, and now they're all stuck there." The words came out quickly, breathlessly, her urgency jumbling them all together into one long sentence.
Will looked at the small child in front of him. Her heaving breasts, her flushed face, her impatience, her irritation, they enticed him in a way that he hadn't expected. Slowly an evil plan formed in his mind. Evil, self-serving…fun. Yes, he knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to help her. But his help would come at a price, and it would not be cheap.
~Part: 17~
"You what," Willow asked in confusion. The silence of the park swallowed her words, but she knew he had heard her question. She gazed into his eyes, but they gave her no help. She took a step closer to him, facing him, close enough to touch his face.
"I said I might be willing to help you," Will repeated. "If the price is right, that is," he added with a smile. He loved watching her confusion. Her face was so very expressive.
"How-how could you help us?"
"This particular trap, I've come across it once or twice in my time. I think I know how to get your friends out of it. Would you be interested…" he let his words trail off, hoping that they would catch her attention.
Willow looked at him uncertainly. Could she trust him? Would he really help, as he promised, or would he betray them all and kill Buffy the minute he saw she was defenseless?
"How can I trust you? How do I know you won't just kill them while they're trapped?"
"Well that's where the deal comes in, little one. I have something that you want, and in order to get it, you have to give me something that I want," he told her, as if explaining it to a small child. "That way, we both have an incentive to keep our side of the bargain."
Suspecting that she wasn't going to like the answer she received, she asked hesitantly, "What is it that you want?"
His hand came up and touched her cheek in a soft caress. She flinched, but as he continued his touch, she stood firm, refusing to give him control. "I want you," he whispered huskily, seductively. His hand moved down to her neck, his fingers warmed by her soft skin.
Her mind reeled in confusion. He wanted her? His hand was still touching her, teasing her. She could barely think straight. "What do you mean, you want me? You want me for what? What-what would I have to do?"
He reluctantly stepped back, his hand already missing the feel of her skin. He looked into her eyes, making certain that she understood what he was proposing. His voice turned cold and matter-of-fact as he described the rules of his game. "You would have to give yourself to me completely, body and mind. You will obey me absolutely, no matter what I ask of you. I will possess your body as much as I wish, whenever I wish. In return for your friends' lives, you give me one year of your own life."
The words flowed over her like a harsh wind. She couldn't believe she was hearing this. He expected her to be some sort of toy, to be used and discarded as he wished. No way was she going to agree to that. That was slavery of the worst kind.
Before she was even aware of it, her hand lashed out to slap his face. It connected but he barely even acknowledged the action. He simply continued to look at her, waiting for her answer.
"I'll see you in hell before I ever agree to your terms," she told him through gritted teeth. She would gladly help Buffy kill him for this.
Buffy! In the turmoil of the last few minutes, she had completely forgotten her friends and their predicament. She needed-she must do something to help them. What though?
"Fine, it's all the same to me," he told her, a faint smile on his face. "But just remember, your friends are in a rather … precarious position at the moment. And sooner or later, the spider will return to see what has gotten tangled in his web. Once that happens, they're done for."
Willow considered her options. She could beg, cry, plead, but she was sure that none of those things would convince the vampire in front of her to help her. She could continue on to the cemetery with her weapons, but would they be enough? And would Giles be able to reach them before things got ugly? And if he did, would he even know how to help them? All the possibilities whirled around in her head, making her feel helpless and alone.
Will brought her thoughts back to him as he prepared to leave. "Well, I guess I have no reason to stick around here. Better get going. Things to do, people to kill, all that. Nice talkin' to you, Red," he said, as he turned to disappear into the night.
"Wait," she hissed urgently, afraid to let him go. Could she actually be considering his proposal? Oh god, how could she? But she needed help and this seemed like the surest way, the only way. "These conditions-are you willing to negotiate at all?"
He turned back to her and smiled. The girl was actually considering his proposal. The key to the game now was to let her think that she was gaining something. That way she'd have less trouble giving in to him. Sure, she'd hate him, at least at first. But that was all just part of the game, part of the fun.
"What did you have in mind then," he asked, seemingly wary of her intentions.
She considered for a moment, wondering how to phrase her conditions. "Well, first of all, you have to leave my friends alone, including Buffy. For the entire year. I can't spend all that time with you, worrying about when you're going to kill them."
He considered her request and decided that he could "live" with it. "All right, I can do that. As long as none of them come after me, I'll agree to a truce. Do we have a deal?"
"Not so fast, mister. I've got more. Next, no biting. I come out of this deal at the end of a year with my neck just the way it is now, thank you very much. No vampire munchies, okay?"
He looked longingly at her neck and breathed a sigh of regret. Well, just because she said no biting now didn't mean that she wouldn't change her mind later. He'd just have to take his time and convince her.
"Is that it, doll, or are there more conditions you'd like to list? 'Cuz you know, your friends aren't getting any safer, the longer we stand here chatting." That should take her mind off of coming up with more ridiculous stipulations, he thought smugly.
"Do you agree?" she asked, pushing for his word.
"Yeah, I agree." She looked at him skeptically, wanting more reassurance. "I promise, I give you my word. Is that what you want to hear?"
"Fine, that'll do. Can we go now?"
"Lead the way, luv," he said, giving her an appreciative glance as she strode past him. As he followed her back to the cemetery he enjoyed the way her hips sway gently and her hair swung back and forth as she walked. He realized just how incredibly fortunate he was. The next year was going to be *very* interesting.
~Part: 18~
"Hi guys," Willow said shyly as she approached the mausoleum. The strange light still emanated from within, bathing Buffy, Anya and Xander, and casting eerie shadows on the walls. They seemed to be in the middle of a heated debate about the virtues of plastic versus paper bags. Anya seemed to be all about the paper bags, while Xander and Buffy sang the virtues of plastic. Hearing Willow's voice, they turned towards her as well as they could.
"Where's Giles," asked Buffy. Her alert eyes took in Willow's form, her gasping for breath, and the extra weapons she held. She also noticed that her friend seemed quite nervous, but she couldn't see any obvious reasons for her distress. Well, other than the current predicament that they found themselves in. But even that didn't account for the severity of Willow's edginess.
"I couldn't find him. He was out somewhere and I didn't know what to do." Willow looked perturbed. Buffy knew that there was more to the story than her friend was telling them. Were they in even more trouble than she thought?
"I-I brought someone back with me. He says that he'll help." Willow was looking everywhere but at her friends. This was going to be bad, Buffy thought.
The redhead moved a bit to the side and Buffy saw who was standing behind her. The blond vampire stared back at her with a blank expression, his manner giving nothing away. No, Buffy thought, this wasn't just going to be bad. This was going to be a disaster.
"What's he doing here," she said sharply.
"He's going to help you," Willow answered, eyes troubled. She took another glance at Will and forged ahead. "We made a deal. He's going to help you get out."
"Why, so he can take a shot at me himself? Why is he being so big-hearted all of a sudden? Maybe it's just my overly suspicious nature, Willow, but I don't trust him."
"We have a deal, Buffy. He'll get you out and then leave you alone. He gave me his word, and that means a lot to a vampire." At least she hoped it did.
"What's this deal you keep talking about, Wills," Xander asked from inside.
"None of your business, dead meat," Will responded. He turned to look at his redhead. "We doin' it now, or are you three going to talk this to death? I'd like to get things over with before the demon who set this trap returns to pick up his free happy meals."
"Buffy, Xander, Anya? Will you let him help you out? And let him go, no killing him while he's helping?"
"Yeah, I'll let him, but he takes one step out of line, and his chest will become intimately familiar with my stake." She gave the blond vampire her best menacing look. "You got that, pasty-face?"
"Yeah, Slayer, whatever. Like I'd waste my time going anywhere near you if I didn't have to," the vampire grumbled. Giving one quick look around, Will entered the mausoleum. He approached Buffy carefully, holding his hands in the air in a mocking gesture of surrender. When he was next to her, he reached out very slowly, deliberately, and touched her on the shoulder. He pulled his hand away and she was free. He moved on to Xander and Anya, repeating his movements with the two of them, then followed the three back out into the cemetery and an anxiously waiting Willow.
Willow looked at him in confusion. "What was that? How did you…?"
"It's a fairly simple trap," he explained. "A vampire chooses a mausoleum and sets up a light that someone's bound to investigate. When they do, they're trapped and held until the vampire returns. All he has to do when he gets back is touch them and they're released. And it isn't that particular even…doesn't have to be the same vamp that set the trap that does the touching. Any of us could have gotten you out. With the proper incentive, that is," he added, his eyes moving to glance at Willow's nervous form.
"What incentive is he talking about," Buffy demanded of Willow. Something about the interplay between her friend and the vampire was starting to concern her. What had she promised him in return for their safety?
"I'll leave Red to explain that to you lot," he said with a smirk. "You, I'll see you later," he added, looking straight at Willow. Without giving them a chance to question him further, he took off into the night.
"Okay, Willow, what did you promise him? I'm *not* giving him any of my blood. Or some kind of get-out-of-jail-free card. What exactly were these terms?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah, he gets no blood from me either," Anya piped up. "And Xander's blood all belongs to me, I have it in writing. So he's off limits too."
Buffy and Willow looked at Xander in amusement. He had a slightly silly look on his face. "Yeah, well, one night we were talking and she just kind of insisted. She wrote up a contract and had me sign it. Said that if I refused, she'd never have sex with me again."
Anya nodded in agreement. "And who looks silly now, I'd like to know," she asked. "Sure, you thought it was a dumb idea and all, but tonight it just might save your ass, buster! Or, well, at least your blood."
The slayer and her friend exchanged glances of befuddled amusement. But Buffy wasn't going to be diverted that easily. She looked at Willow again, and repeated her question from earlier.
"Willow, what exactly did you promise him?"
~Part: 19~
"You what?!" Xander and Buffy wailed in unison.
"Wow, that was in stereo," Anya observed. "Really cool. Well it was," she insisted, as Buffy and Xander both shot her dirty looks.
"Willow, did you really just say what I think you just said," Xander asked, looking at his friend as if she had just grown an extra arm.
"Ye-Yes, I did," she confirmed. "I didn't know what else to do! You guys were all stuck, and Giles wasn't at his house, and I was scared, and he seemed so nice and like he really wanted to help, and, well-I didn't know what else to do." The words tumbled out her mouth, one after another, without giving Willow a second to take a breath.
"So let me get this straight," Buffy insisted. "You're going to be his-what, his girlfriend? Love slave? What do I call this? You're going to be *his* for a year. And during this year, I'm supposed to not kill him because you promised him I'd leave him alone? On top of everything else, Willow, how can you expect me to do that? Have you forgotten that he's a vampire? The very thing I kill for a living. Well, okay, so nobody really pays me for it, but it's what I do. How could you expect me to go along with this? Why are *you* going along with this?"
"Because I promised I would. He told me that he would keep his word, and I promised to do the same. I know it's not smart. I know I probably should have waited for Giles to come help us, but I was scared, Buffy. I didn't know what else to do. And I kept picturing you guys all stuck and defenseless and - I just couldn't stop myself."
"Are you sure you really tried, Willow," Buffy asked her angrily.
"What are you talking about, Buff? Of course she did. This is Willow we're talking about. She's not in the habit of givin' it up to every vamp that comes around," Xander was as shocked as anyone, but he couldn't believe that Buffy would say something like that to Willow.
"I don't know, Xander. She's got feelings for this guy. I can tell. Maybe she saw an easy way for them to be together without having to take responsibility for her actions, and she took it."
"Buffy," Willow cried, tears starting to well up in her eyes, "how could you think that I would do something like that? We're friends, you know me, you know I'd never have done something like this if I thought that there was any other choice."
"I'm beginning to think that I don't know you as well as I thought I did, Wills." Buffy looked her straight in the eye and demanded an answer. "Are you going to honor this 'agreement' you made, Willow? Because if you do, I can't be around you. I'm sorry, really I am. But I can't trust you if you're going to him every night. Who knows what you might tell him in by accident, or your sleep, without even meaning to?"
Willow looked at her friends, friends that she didn't think she could live without. But it looked like she was going to have to. She put her face in her hands, wiping away all traces of tears. She could be strong. She would have to. Maybe they didn't appreciate it, but she *was* doing this for them.
"So this is good-bye then, because I have to do what I promised. I'm sorry that you can't trust me, Buffy. I've never done anything but try to be a friend to you," she said the last words quietly, as if her heart were breaking, "I guess I've failed."
Buffy watched as her friend turned to go, her expression one of great sorrow. How did things get so bad so quickly, she wondered.
Anya watched the redhead walk away, her head bowed and shoulders slumped, and then looked over at the Slayer. "Things aren't as black and white as you try to make them seem, Buffy. Willow is being honorable, in her own way. Maybe you don't agree with what she's doing, but you should at least try to be supportive. That's what a *friend* would have done." With those words still ringing in Buffy's ears, Anya took off to catch up with Willow. Maybe the Slayer had forsaken her, but Anya wasn't willing to lose her friend over this.
Buffy looked over at Xander, expecting him to leave her like Anya had just done. Instead, he crossed the space between them and wrapped her into his arms in a comforting hug. "I'm sorry, Buffy," he whispered. "I know that this is rough on both of you. Maybe after things calm down and everyone has had a chance to adjust, we can re-evaluate the situation. Until then, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." Arm in arm, the two friends walked away.
* * * * * * * * * *
Willow was living her life on pins and needles. Three days had passed since she had given her promise to Will. Three days since she had lost just about every friend she had ever had. She still had Anya, but there were two large holes in her heart, one shaped like Xander and the other like Buffy. She was still angry about what she felt was Buffy's betrayal, but even more, she was saddened and missing her friends like crazy.
In the meantime, she had tidied up her affairs. There was really no other way to describe it. She told her parents that she was going to get a room in the college dorms. They seemed surprised, but she had explained that she wanted to have the full 'college experience' and that that was part of it. Now that she was moving out she would not have to worry about having to explain prolonged absences. In addition, she had purchased a cell phone so that her parents could get ahold of her when they needed to.
She went to her professors and was able to change her schedule to all afternoon classes, leaving her mornings and evenings free. Willow figured that she would probably have to adjust her schedule so that it coincided with Will's. Somehow she didn't think that he would be too accepting of the fact that she was spending all his waking hours at school, and all his sleeping hours studying. So her schedule had to change, and that was that.
So now she waited merely for Will to come and claim her. Rather a melodramatic way to put it, she thought, but it suited her mood of the moment. She sat in her room, typing away at her computer. She could feel him out there on the balcony, watching her. Why didn't he just knock and get it over with, she wondered. Then she did hear the knock, and wished that she could run as fast as she could to anywhere but here.
She walked slowly to the door; each step closer making her heart beat just a little more frantically. Finally, all too quickly, she was there. She pulled aside the curtain and there he was, lounging casually on the other side as if he had just happened by. But she knew better. She opened the door and motioned him in.
"Invite me in, little one. Have you forgotten already?" His tone was mocking, his eyes as well.
"I'm sorry. Please come in," she replied, hoping the formal tone of her voice would save her embarrassment.
He passed casually over the threshold, looking curiously at the knick-knacks and books that adorned her shelves. Her uneasiness was a palpable thing, glistening in the air between them.
"It's time, luv," he told her, wanting to take her away from this place, away from her past. "Are you ready to go?"
She looked at him apprehensively, wishing she could delay this moment for just a little while longer. She wasn't ready to leave yet. Wasn't ready to give up her life. But it was only for a year, she reminded herself. She could survive a year. She grew up on the hellmouth. If she could live through that, she could live through anything, right?
With a sigh, she grabbed her suitcase and gave one last look at her room. Then she turned and looked at Will, nodded slightly, and followed him out the door and away from her home.
~Part: 20~
Willow sat in the car, her body ramrod straight and unyielding. She was nervous as hell, but determined not to show any sign of weakness. "Where are we going," she asked quietly.
Will glanced at her quickly and started up the car. "You'll see," was his only reply.
They drove through the night in silence, finally slowing as they passed through a small residential neighborhood on the outskirts of town. The houses were set back from the street, and most had large front yards that boasted various types of oversized shade trees. Will drove along a bit longer before stopping in front of a large, comfortable-looking two-story house. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Willow suspected the house was a dark green with dark grey trim. A front balcony added an old-fashioned look to the house with its wrought-iron railing.
The front yard was huge, but a dozen trees all but blocked the downstairs windows from casual passers-by. And surrounding the house was, of all things, a white picket fence.
Will maneuvered the car into the driveway and turned it off, turning to face Willow. "Do you like it," he asked curiously. "I thought it might be a good idea to have a place of our own. One with no memories attached to it yet."
Surprised by his perceptiveness, Willow looked back at him and nodded. "I like it," she answered quietly. "But don't you need a place for your-you know-minions and stuff?"
"Nah, just you and me now. I cut the others loose. My priorities have changed, at least for now."
Before she could think of anything to say about his rather startling admission, Will had left the car and walked around to open her door for her. Willow climbed out gracefully, taking his proffered hand.
"It's so quiet out here," she remarked in amazement. The nearest busy street was blocks away, and all that could be heard was the quiet symphony of the crickets and frogs that were hidden in the darkness.
Together they walked to the front door and entered the house that was to be their home for the next year.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Willow's eyes flickered over the room in front of her, slightly surprised by its style. Facing her was a huge marble staircase leading up to the second floor. The floor in front of her was checkered black and white, like something out of an elegant mansion in the 1950s. To the left of the staircase was a large living room with dark green carpet and green and burgundy furniture. A large bay window, framed with thick heavy curtains, looked out onto front yard.
"Would you like the tour," he asked shyly.
"Yes. It's…it's amazing. Can I see the rest," she asked eagerly.
He led her to her right, down the long hallway that ended in a large
formal dining room. The walls were a deep burgundy with an off-white
chair rail, and the dining room table and ornate chairs
were oak with off-white upholstery. There was a huge candelabrum
on the table filled with tall burgundy tapered candles. The room
looked like it could tell tales of formal dinners held here in days gone
by.
At the other side of the room was a door to the kitchen, all gleaming white and modern. After a quick look, Willow returned back to the foyer, the elegant stairway again dominating her attention. Will stood there silently, watching her.
"Upstairs is the library. Would you like to see it?"
"Library? Books?" Willow remembered the extensive library William had owned back in London and was curious to see what sort of treasures this library might hold. She eagerly bounded up the stairs, stopping for a moment at the top, trying to decide which way to go.
"It's to your right, luv," he called up to her from downstairs. "The bedroom is to the left."
She hesitated for a moment before walking to her right, opening the door and gasping as the sheer number of books in the huge room overwhelmed her. There were bookshelves on all four walls, floor to ceiling, and they were all packed with books. There were also various couches, chairs, and loveseats upon which to sit and read. Willow turned as Will walked up behind her, glad to see the look of amazement on her face.
"The library was really what sold me on this place. I knew you'd love it."
"It's just too much," she said slowly, shock still clouding her mind. She could not wait to get her hands on some of the books, exotic titles calling to her from the shelves. She picked one at random, leafing through it and then putting it back.
"C'mon, let me show you the rest," he said, gently pulling her by her hand back towards the bedroom.
Bedroom, she thought. The room with the bed. Room where he'd expect her to-her mind shied away from the rest of the sentence. She knew she was in denial, but maybe if she ignored it, it would go away…
The bedroom followed the same decorating scheme as most of the rooms, dark green carpet and thick dark burgundy drapes. A huge four-poster bed with burgundy and silver bedding dominated the room. It was beautiful, looking like something that would be equally at home in a medieval castle.
Looking at the bed, she realized just how tired she was. It had to be well past 3am, and the last several nights her sleep had been fitful at best. Yet at the same time, she didn't want to give in to the inevitable intimacy that was sure to come when they went to bed.