rating: pg 13
pairing: Willow/Spike, William/Dru
disclaimer: nobody belongs to me.
note: in order to create a slightly more consistant victim profile, this
story will describe Mary Kelly ( a Ripper victim) as having dark hair. Historically, she is recorded as a blonde. Apologies if this upsets anyone.
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~Part: 6~
Willow followed the vampire out of the alley. She wasn't certain quite where they were in London, and even if he had given her the exact street name, it wouldn't have helped. Willow had never been in London before, never even left America. Now, she was in a bad section of London, in the wrong century, and her only company was the earlier version of the vampire that had invaded her fantasies. The vampire that was also hopelessly obsessed with his insane sire/sister, however the actual relationship worked. Had it actually been Dru or Angelus that had turned him? If it had been Dru, perhaps that was why Dru had such a hold over him.
She sighed, wondering exactly how this had happened to her. There were really only two possibilites that occured. Either the Hellmouth had warped her spell to do something else, or she had mis-translated her request. She really had to take a course in Greek if... no, when she got back to Sunnydale. That way, at least it wouldn't be her fault if any more spells went wacky on her. She was getting better, really she was, but sometimes her spells just didn't do quite what she had intended.
"Can you do something useful, or are you just going to trail after me like bait?" His voice was impatient, and there was a hint of frustration and worry underneath.
"I figured that as soon as you get us somewhere that we can stop for a minute, I could cast a locating spell. I can't cast it while I'm walking." Willow tried not to snap at him. Her fingers and toes were cold... it was a lot colder and damper here than it had been in Sunnydale.
"Is that all? Just a few moments standing still? You won't need any candles or herbs or sacrifices? A proper bloody sacrifice always livens things up a bit." There was a trace of amusement in his voice.
"Sorry, I've never done any blood sacrifices for my spells. If it will make you feel that it's a bit more impressive, it will make a little glowing light that you can see. The light will go towards Dru, and I can keep the spell active while walking, or even running." Hopefully, he wasn't to annoyed. Hopefully, he wouldn't take out his frustration and worry about Dru vanishing on WIllow. She shivered, partly from nerves, and partly from the chilly air.
"Pity. I'm sure it would liven things up a bit." He continued walking for a bit, and then stopped, glancing at Willow, his cool blue eyes raking over her form, noting how she was shivering slightly in the night air. He shrugged off his coat, handing it to her. "Here, you look cold. Not much use helping find Dru if you freeze to death on me."
Willow smiled at him, slipping his coat on gratefully. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent which had lingered on the coat. It was probably as close as she would get to him being wrapper around her. "Thanks. For the coat, I mean. Did you want me to cast the locating spell now, or somewhere a bit less... exposed?"
He glanced around, seeing the dark streets twisting into the distance, the wisps of fog obscuring things, softening the sight of the city. "Go ahead and cast it here. Not really anyone around, and who would do anything anyhow?"
Willow shrugged, conceding to his superior knowledge of the city. She cupped her hands in front of her, as if they were filled with something. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her few memories of Drusilla, remembering the night that the vampiress had invaded the library, killing Kendra and causing a book-case to fall onto Willow. She whispered a few words, these in dependable Latin, and felt the seeking globe form, a tiny image of Dru held in the center of it. She heard William's startled gasp as it formed, and had a small smile on her face as she opened her eyes. The globe was approximately the size of an eye, and it floated over her cupped hands.
"All we have to do now is follow it, and it should lead us to her. It won't get to far ahead of me, but it might get a bit mixed up about walls." She pulled her handss away, pulling them up the sleeves a bit, and then putting the hands into the pockets. The globe floated down the street, glowing a pale green that reflected of the fog in an eerie fashion.
Neither of them noticed the figure in dark clothing across the street. They didn't see the man's jaw drop as he stared at the floating globe of light, fearful of what sort of foul and unwholesome effect it would have. Nor could they know that Aurthur Giles, a member of the Watcher's Council, had serious issues against magic in any form, and would now be seeking to kill or have killed the slender witch that had created the globe.
Unaware of the danger that would soon be after them from the magic-fearing Watcher, the unlikely pair of travelers continued into the fog. They walked, following the globe of light down one street after another, both hoping for different reasons that Dru wouldn't be to far away, or injured, or in some sort of danger. Willow kept part of her concentration on maintaining the seeking spell, and another on looking at her surroundings. This might be her only chance to see London, she might as well try to see some of it.
William suddenly stopped, his back going tense. Willow almost bumped into him, and peked around his arm, noticing that the scents on the air now included some overly aged fish and... was that blood? She sucked in her breath quickly, and almost immediately regretted it. It was definitely blood, possibly human, but not from some sort of demon. "Did we just... we just found a dead body, or parts of one, didn't we?"
There was something laying on the cobblestones in front of them, a lump of something that gleamed wetly in the pale light of the seeking globe. With a sudden lurch, Willow realized that that something had once been inside somebody. She could feel her stomach twisting inside of her, and a distant part of her mind was trying to identify the object ont he street. It was an internal organ, but which one? "Oh my god..."
His voice was harsh as Wiliam spoke. "Not God, little witch. God had nothing to do with this. But where's the rest of her?"
Willow stood in the street, trying to control her breathing, arguing with her stomache that now was not the time to throw up. She looked upwards, and her eye caught at a broken out window, a smear of red over the sill. "Wiliam? There's blood on that window. Do you think that whoever did this is still... could they be in there?"
He looked at the windo in question, his lips pursed slightly. "Not sure. How about I go take a look-see?"
William walked closer to the building, and with an effortless looking leap, he was hanging from the ledge, pulling himself up enough that he could peer into the room. Suddenly, it was as if his body went limp, and he dropped, almost crashing into the stones before Willow managed to catch him with the power of her mind. He stood up, shaking slightly as he brushed himself off.
He looked almost pale as he strode over to Willow. He took a grip on her elbow, and Willow could see that his hand was shaking slighlty. "It... the rest of her was in there. At least, most of her. I'm not certain... there was blood everywhere, and she'd been dismembered. Dark haired chit, her face was to slashed up to tell if she was pretty. Now, we're gonna get out of here, and we're going to find Dru."
They left the area quickly, glad to see the light globe floating away from the mutilated remains of the unidentified dark haired woman, carved apart on the narrow bed.
~Part: 7~
As they were nearly fleeing from the place where the body was, it clicked in Willow's mind. London, WhiteChapel, the year eighteen eighty eight, the mutilated and disembowled woman on her bed. Jack the Ripper, one of the most notorious serial killers in history. The realization emerged in a harsh and nervous whisper. "That... the Ripper. I landed right in the time of the Ripper. oh, God, what did I do to deserve this... the Ripper... that poor woman."
"He's getting more creative, luv. That wasn't the first tart he's taken out, and she probably won't be the last. Police are finally starting to look or him, he's getting more... creative about his work." William's voice was tight, as if he was attempting to reign in his own feelings about the body, to remind himself that as a vampire, he reveled in violence and bloodshed.
"I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be in England, let alone in London. This isn't even the right century! And right into the spree of a homicidal maniac... I guess this was to keep me from missing home to much. Wait, you said not the first, and he's getting more creative? Has there been a pattern? Anything that the victims all had in common?" Willow was trying to make herself think, hoping that if she forced herself to think logically, it would help lessen the panic. She was homeless in London during the panic of Jack the Ripper! With no resources, no allies, no friends, oh, she was certain that she was in trouble.
"You cast a spell and tossed your little backside across the channel and out of the proper century? Are you... What in the bloody hell sort of witch are you? Are you even capable of finding Dru?" WIlliam's voice was shocked, appalled, and a little bit dismayed.
"I think I mistranslated the Greek. Or maybe it was just being over the Hellmouth. I can cast a locating spell for someone, that's easy. I can do binding spells and fireballs. I even brought someone back from Hell! I can cast a spell to find your crazy girlfriend! The last thing I need right now is for someone to question my capability at magic! I already know I have the figure of a child, and the appeal of a dusty old book, but at least give me the courtesy of assuming that I can do something right!" Willow was nearly shouting at the end, hot angry tears, tears of pain and grief at O'z betrayal and abandonment, of years of being passed over, of rejection and grief streaming down her face and dripping onto the front of the borrowed coat.
William turned to look at her, his blue eyes softening slightly as he looked at her, standing there in the chilly fog, looking small and lost inside his coat, tears of built up pain and frustration and grief running down her face. "What happened? Nobody ends up this far from home just entirely by accident."
Willow brushed the tears from her cheeks, aware that they would just be replaced by more in moments. "I had a boyfriend. Yeah, he was a werewolf, but he was still a pretty nice guy. I thought that everything was good, until he saw HER. She was a singer for this other band, and it turned out that she was also a werewolf, and they got loose while they were all wolfy, and then there they were all naked and together and he... he had sex with her. Then she tried to kill me, and he changed, and he killed her instead, only then he almost ate me, except that Buffy got him with the sedative, and then he just... left town. He couldn't even bother to say goodbye, he just... ran away. I wasn't even worth a goodbye from him. And I'm supposed to just be over it, because it happened a few weeks ago, and nobody's wanted to hear about how much it hurts for almost two weeks. He was the only guy that ever seemed to want me, and he's gone, and nobody else will ever want me except as a study buddy, and I can't live like this anymore. I can't deal with this pain, and it isn't going away. So, since everyone wanted me to find a way to stop dragging everyone else into a miserable mood, I was going to do a little spell. I wanted it to help me move past my time of pain. Now, I'm in LOndon, in the wrong damn century!"
She found herself sobbing onto William's shoulder, hot tears scalding her cheeks, her eyes burning from the pain and frustration, and the misery of it all. Oz had vanished, and everyone just wanted her to magically get over it, because her pain was ruining their days. It had helped just to have someone willing to listen, but the only person willing to do that back in Sunnydale... was actually the same person that she was sobbing on now. The only glimmerings of comfort that she'd received had come from a soulless killer, a vampire that had killed hundreds of mortals, had even contemplated having her for dinner. Not her friends, not her parents, but someone that was supposed to be her mortal, or would that be immortal? enemy.
He just held her, his arm around her back, and listened as she told the sad story, let her tears soak into his shirt. His hand rubbed small circles over her back, just as he would have done for his ripe wicked plum. He listened, and offered the support of a shoulder, the release of tears.
"Sounds like you really need a better class of friends, luv. The ones you have apparently haven't figured out that friendship goes both ways. They lean on you, but a real friend will let you lean on them." He managed to produce a handkerchief from one of the jacket pockets, and wiped the tears from her face before tucking it back into the pocket that it had emerged from. "Do you feel any better now?"
Willow looked at him, sniffling slightly as her tears faded, her eyes feeling hot and scratchy from crying. She felt almost empty inside now, instead of filled with pain and bitter despair. "Actually, I think I do feel better. Not good, but better than I was."
He flashed a cocky grin at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, something intense and primal and undecipherable. "Now, just remember a few things, luv. First, the damn wolf was an idiot if he left you behind. Second, you're passionate and when you landed on me I could tell that you have a decent figure on you. You can find someone else that will want you, hopefully someone that will cherish you and take care of you the way you deserve, someone that won't expect you to always be the strong one."
Willow gave him a shaky smile, one as fragile as blown glass. "Don't we have a vampire to locate? And you are going to tell me about the previous... the Ripper's earlier efforts. I think... if I'm here, there has to be a reason."
Amazingly, her green locator spell had remained through her tears and shouting, and was hovering, almost conveying an impression of impatience. They resumed moving, following the globe through the streets, trying to avoid stepping on anything to nasty. They were going deeper into the bad section of town, into the area where a scream in the darkness was so common that nobody would bother to check, where nobody cared if you died unless you owed them money. All in search of an insane vampire that had tried to kill Willow, although that had been more of a minor detail than anything personal.
William gave her a small smile of his own, and offered her his arm as they walked. "Well, the first person that this RIpper fellow claimed credit for was a chit called Polly Nichols. I also heard a rumor that she was having an affair with this one vampire I know, not sure about that one though. Anyhow, her body was found in an alley, throat slashed, so was her stomach. Not much blood though."
"Not much blood? And her throat was slashed? Maybe right over the artery? umm... William? Was there much blood found on the other victims? I mean... other than that woman in..." Willow's voice trailed off and she shuddered, not from the cool air, but from the impressions of the mayhem that she had of the little room, both from movies and William's reaction.
"I didn't see the bodies, luv. But, the papers said it was over the artery. There hasn't been a lot of blood found with the other bodies either. All cheap tarts, the sort that nobody really misses, on account of there's always more. Come to thik of it, they all had dark hair."
"Okay, so we have a tenative victim profile, dark haired women, people that nobody would miss, and easy, umm... meaning that they would just go off with some random guy. As for the lack of blood, living over the Hellmouth makes me think that this guy might be some sort of vampire or demon. ohh... you don't think... he's not... eating the insides?" Willow's face had paled at the thought, and her expression was almost pleading as she looked at William.
"I really don't know. Some of the letters said he was. But yeah, all dark haired chits going off with strange blokes in the middle of the night." His voice was low, as if he didn't want to draw attention to them.
Willow shuddered again. "Ew. That's just... ickky. Sounds like either some sort of night stalking baddie to me, or else a guy with really, really severe mental problems."
William chuckled, an almost friendly sound. "Red, you have quite the way of describing things."
~Part: 8~
While William and Willow were discussing the gruesome details of the Ripper killings, Aurthur Giles of the Watcher's Council was making some preparations of his own. He was quite firmly of the belief that witches were evil, just as vampires and demons were. That they were a menace and plague upon the populace, and should be eliminated for the protection of all people. In his mind, they were not that much different from demons, and often just as tricky. He had searched the Watcher's archives, finding many examples of witches and sorcerers causing trouble, summoning vile demons, casting curses, unleashing terrible forces. Best to kill them as soon as possible, before they unleashed some terrible evil.
He was careful in his preparations though. He alerted a few of the other Watchers, informing them that he had spotted a witch, one that had been working in conjunction with a vampire, and that he was attempting to eliminate them both. His idea was that this way, if he failed, there would be others that would follow, possibly to avenge him, but at least to kill the dangers that he had discovered. The fact that he had been able to give a good description should make it easier, although that section of London was a nightmare warren of buildings and tunnels and unsafe buildings. God alone knew how many dangers could be dwelling in there, or how many of them were working with the red haired witch and her brown haired vampire.
He found a crossbow, something lethal to witch and vampire alike, and set out into the night. With a bit of luck, he would be able to find them, to kill at least one of them tonight. He had very carefully carved crosses onto the bolts for his crossbow, uncertain if they would actually make them more lethal to vampires or not, but it had made him feel better.
With some caution and a warm coat, he set off, hoping to be able to make London that much safer tonight. Toe rid the city of one more dreadful parasite, something existing on the suffering and death of the common people. Watchers were supposed to do more than observe, they were sometimes the only defense an area had. If he remembered correctly, the current Slayer was in Japan, extremely far from LOndon and any of the dangers to the people here. So, the Watchers would have to stand in, to kill the demons and vampires. Part of him was terrified, but if not him, then who would go after them?
He had no way of knowing just how dangerous some of the things that stalked the streets this night actually were. He had considered the idea of vampires, of several sorts of demons, and even from common muggers. But he hadn't considered the idea of a mind twisted into feral insanity, a mind that had sunk below even the level of predatory excess considered acceptable among demons and vampires. There was no way that he could have prepared himself.
In WhiteChapel, William had finished detailing the bodies that the police had found, and mentioned a few others that had been found by some of the demon community, similarly mutilated, always dark haired women, the sort he called tarts, and all of them had dark hair. They had also all been killed during the night, many around three or four in the morning.
A sudden thought occurred to Willow, one that she worried would upset William. "umm.. William? HOw does Dru normally hunt? I mean, what are her tactics?"
He smiled fondly, clearly thinking about all the times he had gone hunting with his lover. "She smiles all soft and helpless like at a bloke, makes him think she's this sweet and helpless little bird, and then when she gets him alone, there he is, and nobody can help him. The sudden change always makes them afraid, tastes sweet. Nothing like the combination of fear, denial, and some bloke who thought he was going to get... well, it's a very effective plan."
"Ummm.... she's going into Whitechapel to do this? Dru, with her dark hair, is going to be luring men off for what they think is a quickie, in the area where someone has been killing dark haired tarts?"
William suddenly turned, his eyes golden and furious, in full vampire visage. His hand was around Willow's throat, and he had her shoved against a wall, her feet dangling a few inches from the ground. "DON'T INSULT HER!!! She's my dark goddess, my world, and I'm not going to let some little mortal chit insult her!"
Fear surged through her, and Willow gasped for breath. "Not... trying to insult her. Just... she could be in... danger from the... Ripper."
His eyes grew wide, and he suddenly released her, causing Willow to fall to the cobblestones in a heap. "Oh bloody hell... you're right. She's a pretty dark haired thing, and all the others had dark hair. We have to find her!"
Slowly, Willow picked herself up from the cobblestones, trying to brush off any dirt or... whatever that might have stuck itself to her clothing when she had landed. She winced as she felt new bruises, and made a mental note to herself not to insult Dru, even if she was a crazy, skanky... no, best not to go there. "If the Ripper is some sort of vamp or demon, she might not be able to fight him off, although he's probably... not hungry or whatever anymore, not considering..."
"Considering that woman earlier, right. So, we have a little time. I still want to fin her, she..."
"She's your everything. Your eternal love, the person you want to be with forever. I know. It was... mentioned in my proper decade, the Nineteen Nineties, and then again in Two Thousand and One. Dru being your everything... that even came up before the whole Slayers thing." Willow was looking around for the little globe, and so she missed the surprised expression that crossed William's face.
"You're from the future? Over a hundred years in the future? And I'm still... what was that about Slayers?" The curiosity in his voice was almost tangible.
"Yeah. Two Thousand one, and I'm in college, over the Hellmouth. You and Dru showed up there, and Giles, umm... he's a Watcher, but he was freaking out because you'd killed two Slayers already..." Willow moved slightly, peering through the darkness. "Aha! There's the little seeking globe. She's that way."
"Two Slayers? I kill two Slayers between now and then? Sounds good. What about Dru?"
"umm.... she got Kendra. She did this... mind control thingy, and just slit her throat right open. Creepy. Well, probably a big accomplishment for a vampire, but it was really freaky to watch. I was stuck under a bookcase at the time, and you know, not even a single stupid minion tried to go after me? Further proof of my lack of appeal." Willow sighed, shaking her head slightly. "And now I know I have problems, because I'm complaining that nobody even wants to bite me. That's normally a good thing... I'm going to be one of those crazy old ladies that lives in a house with a horde of cats and talks to herself..."
Willow missed the amused expression that settled onto William's face. She was too busy following the globe to try to find his precious Dru.
~Part: 9~
* Sunnydale, 2001 (Season 4, original time) *
Spike had woke up, his day spent in impossible dreams of HER, to be reminded of the harsh reality. Reality where she wasn't his, where he was reminded that the nights of intense passion that they had existed only in his own mind. Reminded that she wouldn't think of him like that, would never lower herself to go to bed with a demon, a vampire. As had become normal, his body was in a state of frustrated longing, tormented by his desire for HER, his glorious new goddess, the one that filled his dreams with herself, driving away any thoughts or longings for Dru, the tormented vampiress that had been his whole world for well over a century. She had claimed his heart and passion for herself, burning her claim into him, and she didn't even know it, hadn't done anything to cause it. She had just been herself, her glorious, wonderful self.
Something had been done that had left him unable to feed, and he was stuck in the Watcher's bathtub, chained up like... but he wasn't chained up. There was a faint hint of Willow's scent in the air, and his chains had been unlocked. A large cooler was sitting under the sink, and he suspected that it would be at least partly filled with blood for him. The bathroom was yet another reminder that his dreams were not reality, in his dreams, he dwelled with HER in a place of splendor and luxury, somewhere worthy of HER, his dream beloved.
He climbed out of the tub, stretching his muscles. He combed out his hair, and opened the chest, discovering that it was nearly full of blood. He was able to feed well, and there was still a generous supply. It was almost too generous a supply. She was normally pretty good about bringing him enough to eat, but this was far more than she usually brought. He didn't recall her saying anything about going out of town for the weekend.
Now puzzled, Spike carefully emerged from the bathroom. The apartment was silent, the only sounds his own footsteps and the faint humm of the refrigerator. The television was turned off. No radio played, no humming of music or faint turning of pages. That didn't seem right. He listened, extending his senses as far as possible... listening for the faintest sound of life.
The neighbor in the next house over had a pair of small animals, perhaps cats, currently running through the upstairs. News played in the next apartment, and there was a single heartbeat over there, an adult male. Giles' apartment was empty, not a single living creature, only his own presence, and a lingering scent of candle-wax and herbs.
He collapsed into the chair, suddenly realizing what must have happened. Willow had been here, had cast a spell using candles and herbs, and now she wasn't here anymore. Had she simply left the apartment? Vanished as a result of her spell? Where was she? Who would he have to talk to? He would miss Willow if something had happened to her, she was the only one that would really talk to him.
The door rattled, and swung open, the rustling of paper and a low english voice cursing 'confounded packages and bundles' and cursing the deterioration of his body with the passing of time. Giles came through the door, placing an armload of bundles, boxes and books on the table. He glanced up and around before realizing that Spike was not supposed to be roaming loose in his house.
"What are you doing free? Where's Willow?" Giles' voice carried suspicion and concern.
"Unlike the rest of you, Red likes me. She lets me out of the chains. Normally, I'm awake when she gets here, and there's a little conversation where I ask her to let me loose and she tells me to behave. Tonight, I woke up, the cuffs were off, ankles loose, and there was a cooler of blood for me under the sink. I haven't seen Red anywhere, but I know she was here." Spike's voice was determinedly neutral. If the Watcher had the idea that Willow mattered to him in any way, it would probably hurt Spike's chances for... what? What exactly was he hoping that the Watcher wouldn't interfere with? He knew that there would be nothing happening between himself and Willow, she was still torn up inside from the Wolf leaving. He knew her pain, understood it down to his bones, and he hurt with her, bled inside along with her, and couldn't understand how her 'friends' could be blind enough to miss it.
"How do you know that Willow was here? Do you have any idea where she is now?" Giles was obviously worried about her.
"I could smell her scent in the bathroom, so I know that she was here. There's also a hint of candle wax in the air, and some herbs. I... there was something I said to her the other day. Something about maybe there was a spell to help her get over mutt-boy. I think she tried something. No idea if she cast and walked out, or if something went odd and she just vanished." His voice wasn't quite as neutral as Spike had hoped, betraying his concern for Willow.
Giles stood there, his expression thoughtful and worried. "She must have decided to cast it in the basement, I can't think of anywhere else big enough for a casting that I wouldn't have seen by now..." The Watcher turned, facing the bookshelves, and his gaze fell on the pair of books that Willow had placed on the table earlier that day, her pages of careful notes peeking slightly from the cover of the brown one.
"I didn't leave any books on that table." The words emerged slowly, as if Giles had a bad feeling about the books. Slowly, he walked closer the them, opening the one with her notes cautiously.
Giles looked over the pages, and a puzzled frown crossed his face. "This seems fairly straight forward... a petition to ask a request of certain benevolent and neutral beings. It shouldn't have harmed her..."
Spike felt dread seep into his body, and suspicion began to gnaw at him. "What was her petition?"
Flipping through the pages with careful documentation of the ritual, Giles looked for the relevant information. "Hmm... the petition is to be presented in Greek... I don't think Willow is terribly proficient in Greek. Ah, here is her phrasing, in english. She has 'help me move from this time of pain' which does sound as if she wanted assistance recovering from Oz. But that still doesn't explain where she is..."
"You said Greek wasn't her best language. How does the petition read in Greek? If she got the translation off, that could change the whole meaning." Spike spoke from the couch, mentally cursing the sunlight that fell over the table, the sunlight that prevented him from looking over the pages himself. He also began something that he hadn't done in almost two hundred years; he began to pray to any power that might listen to him that Willow would be safe.
"Oh dear."
Spike had learned to dread those words from Giles. "What? What do you mean 'oh dear'? What does it say? What happened to Willow?!?"
Giles looked at Spike, puzzlement for Spike's reaction warring on his features with concern for his findings. "The Greek, properly translated, reads 'help remove me from this time of pains.' I think... I think that Willow has accidentally removed herself from this time, most likely to a different point in time, perhaps the past, possibly the future."
"WHAT!!! She's accidentally moved herself out of this time?!? How do we bring her back? There has to be something that can be done about this. I... you people need Willow." Spike's features flickered from human to vampire from the intensity of his emotions.
Willow was gone from this time... not stuck grieving for her broken heart, not gone somewhere in the sunlight, but GONE. She was in some other time, probably a dangerous time. Some time where nobody would realize how special she was, how brave and resourceful. A time when her power would only lead to pain and danger to her, instead of respect and admiration. A time when she could be hurt, or even killed, and he wouldn't even know.
"Yes, there must be a way to bring her back. Something that can be done to retrieve her, to bring her back to us. I will have to start looking... perhaps you could be of some assistance?" Giles was worried, perhaps thinking of all the dangers that could befall Willow in some other time.
"Yeah, just pass me something. There's a lethal patch of sunshine between me and the books. If it's any help, I can read the Greek. Latin, Chinese, French and Russian as well, I tried to pick up the local language if we stayed anywhere very long." Spike was worried. Willow was gone, and they had no idea where or even when she was.
There were just some days that it would be more enjoyable to sleep through, and this was shaping up to be one of them.
~Part: 10~
Willow was trying to concentrate on searching for Drusilla, really she was. Unfortunately, her subconscious had other ideas. She was still following the green locator globe, and she was aware of William slightly to her left, but her mind wasn't focused on the streets and back allies of London. Nor was she even contemplating the gruesome work of the serial killer known as the Ripper. That would have been relevant. She wasn't contemplating how to get back to her proper time either.
No, Willow was contemplating Chaos demons, Fungus demons, and Angelus. Chaos demons came in two varieties, the 'lesser chaos demon', which resembled Lurch from the Addams family, crowned with an impressive rack of antlers that secreted a mildly acidic slime, and the 'greater chaos demon' which more closely resembled a centaur with the lower limbs of something like a deer, with taloned feet, and a slightly muzzle-like mouth of fangs below slime covered antlers, creating a result that was both fearsome and 'eeuww'. There were very detailed illustrations in some of Giles' books. Fungus demons looked as if they were professional basketball players whose skin had been replaced with a pale tan leathery substance that had lumps and growths resembling mushrooms all over it, and some of them also had slime, while others released a powdery substance that caused choking and coughing from anyone near them. Again with the verdict of 'eeeuuuw'. Angelus... well, he had looked far more appealing than a chaos or fungus demon, so she could actually understand why Dru might have been attracted to Angelus. But what on earth could she have seen in a chaos demon? Or a fungus demon? WHy would she want something all 'eeeuww' when she had William? Willow found herself concluding that it had to be because Dru was insane, that had to be the only reason why someone would ditch Spike... err, William for a chaos demon.
"Never in a million years... eternal chastity sounds better." Willow didn't even realize that the words had been spoken out loud.
"Better than what, Red?" William's query was proof that the words had been out loud.
"ummm...." Willow knew that she couldn't explain the whole reason behind her fractured statement. But he would insist on an answer, and she had to have one that wouldn't sound like an outright lie. "I was just... thinking about this rumor that I'd heard back... home. There was something about a vampire having an affair with a Chaos demon... and, eeuuwww! All slime and antlers. Eternal chastity sounds far better. But, I mean, there had to have been some sort of reason, right?"
"You really heard a rumor about someone having an affair with a bloody chaos demon?!? You wouldn't lie about that, would you?"
"Really! With my own ears I heard him say it! This one vamp said another vamp that he knew had took up with a chaos demon, all slime and antlers! I really truly heard him say it, and he... I don't think he was lying. I just can't figure out the attraction. I mean... eeuwww, yuck." Willow could feel herself getting a bit nervous again. William had been showing a tendency to half choke her against walls if she said the wrong thing, she didn't want a third occurrence.
"Gross... if that means vile, slime covered and disgusting, then I suppose that would be a good word for them. Some of them are supposed to have powerful psychic abilities. Others are supposed to be able to enhance someone's power. I still don't think it's enough to climb into bed with one, but there are probably some ambitious types out there who think it would be worth it." William's voice was thoughtful, and clearly conveyed his distaste for the idea of someone being intimate with a chaos demon.
"Umm... William? Do you have any idea why some vampires look really ugly with their vampire faces on, and others don't look bad at all? I mean..." Willow could feel herself blushing. "You don't look bad with your fangs, although I've mostly seen you angry. Angelus didn't look unattractive, he was just threatening death and destruction. Darla and Dru didn't look bad either, although they're really not my type. I mean, yeah, bad as in scary dangerous vampires, but not bad as in eeuuww. That would be the Master, or even worse, Kakistos, who looked really horrible. The Master's guy Luke looked pretty bad with his vampire face on, although I didn't see him looking human, so maybe he was just ugly to begin with... and I'm babbling again, aren't I?"
William chuckled. "You've been keeping a list of cute vampires, have you? The Master is powerful, don't ever forget that Red. BUt no, he isn't going to get to much done with his good looks. Sometimes it just age, sometimes people just look bad no matter what. Had someone tell me once that it was a reflection of the insides of you, the worse you are inside, the scarier you look outside when you vamp out. Said it was a sign of power and potential."
"That can't be right. Darla and Angelus were both in the Watcher's journals as big scary threats, and they both looked good as vamps. You've taken.. or will take.. or something... two Slayers, and you don't look bad. Luke, as far as the books could say, he got one Slayer, was the Master's trusted lieutenant, and was not at all attractive. But a lot of minons are not only slighlty smarter than dirt, but fairly ugly. So it can't be that capable vampires are ugly, and pretty vampires are decorative fluff."
"I suppose that's a good point, about the minions. Who knows? Maybe it has nothing to do with capabilities. Maybe it's just chance. Anyone ever tell you that you think of the strangest things?"
Willow sighed. "All the time. That and that I have to many thoughts."
He was still laughing about the idea of someone having to many thoughts when the crossbow bolt caught him in the shoulder. The bolt burned, causing his flesh to smoke where it touched, and he roared with pain, staggering slightly from the impact. The laughter was gone, and he was entirely vampire, and furious.
Willow's eyes were wide and worried, as she scanned the rooftops along the oposite side of the street for the sniper. She spoke a few words, and a crackling globe of green fog began to gather in her hand, clearly preparation for something. Finally, Willow thought that she saw movement on the rooftop. "There, I think I see something..."
Growling, William headed for the building that the motion had been on, scaling the uneven side easily, his movements reminding Willow just how much vampires really were predatory, that no matter how human he might look, he wasn't. That Spike wasn't human, no matter how human-like he might seem at times. No matter how much he listened.
A second crossbow bolt came from the rooftop, this one hitting Willow in her leg, the pain radiating through her in hot waves. She gasped, nearly falling to the ground from the pain, and whispered a quick spell to numb the pain, the energies from her gathered fog wavering. Crying out, she hurled the fog towards the roof, hoping that it would hit whoever had shot her, hoping that there would be some sort of answer as to who, what, why she had been shot. She didn't have enemies in this time... she hadn't even met anyone besides William!
Meanwhile, William had reached the roof, and charged at the man holding the crossbow, fangs bared and growling. The man with the crossbow seemed human, and was dressed a bit better than normal for this area. Seeing William, he tuirned, atttempting to flee, but a dark swirl enveloped him, slowing his movements, making him clumsy. William grabbed at the man, intending to rip him into shreds. The man ducked, laving William holding a fistful of coat sleeve, a few drops of blood on his claws from shallow slashes over the man's arm. William lunged after the sniper again, and the mortal dodged, slipping on teh sloping roof, sliding down a bit before hitting a weak point, the roof collapsing under him, dropping him into a cluttered attic filled with an odd assortment of boxes and crates and strangely shaped things. William tried to leap after him, and encountered a barrier, an indication that he had not been invited into the building, that someone lived inside. HE glared at the mortal, memorizing his face so that he would be able to find and kill him later. Concluding that the mortal was not about to emerge from the attic, William left the hole, climbing down the side of the building more carefully.
"Red? You're bleeding..." His voice had the sligtly deeper tone that told her that he was still vamped out.
"Yeah." Her words were barely more than a whisper, and her head was spinning from pain, possibly from the bloodloss or shock, although her jeans weren't too bloody. "He fired a second shot."
"oh, hell... let me pull that out..." William reached forward, the motion causing the bolt still in his shoulder to pull, the new pain making him growl.
"Yours first. My wound, the bolt might be all that's keeping it from bleeding more. Besides, your's is umm.. smoking. Hang on, this is going to hurt." She reached out, one hand wrapping over the bloody bolt in his shoulder, the other pressing on his chest just under the wound, apparently heedless of the fact that she was putting her hands on his blood. She gave a shapr pull with one hand, and pushed him back with the other, and as William roared in pain again, the bolt pulled loose with a slight sucking noise. Willow staggered a bit, her face growing a bi more pale.
"Bloody... that hurt. Your turn. I'll pull it out, you be ready to put pressure on if it bleeds more." His voice was almost even, his features still vampiric.
He waited for Willow's nod before gripping the bolt, growling as his hands tougched the wood, feeling the crosses carved into it burning his hand. He pulled the bolt harshly, ignoring Willow's gasp as it left her leg. She pressed her hands, still covered with his blood onto the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.
"Let me help you with that..." William lowered his head to the wound, licking at the blood that flowed.
Willow twitched slightly, years of living on the Hellmouth protesting this, telling her that the last thing to permit near a bleeding wound was a vampire. But it felt almost... good. The feeling of his lips on her flesh, his tounge sliding over her skin... it sent shivers through her body, dark naughty shivers. "I'm hoping that I don't go into shock... to much blood loss could do that."
Willow decided not to worry about it. If he was actually intending to help tend her wound, why should she object? Besides, as far as the Watcher journals went, vampire bites rarely got infected, maybe there was some sort of anti-bacterial agent? It felt so nice, pleasant and sending those delightful shivers through her. Besides, what did she have to live for right now? Her friends didn't have time for her, her boyfriend... Oz was gone. The only person that even cared a little was Spike. Spike would recover, assuming that he even missed her. She wouldn't have cared if Spike had killed her in the dorm room. She didn't have any more to live for now. At least, if she was going to die, it would be at the hands... teeth? tounge? of an attractive vampire.
She felt a small smile on her face. Shivering slightly, she wondered why she felt so cold, and then everything spun slowly into darkness.