Emily fidgeted with the cameo on her shoulder and lowered her hands to
smooth out the long, billowing skirt that flowed from the tight-fitting
bodice of her gown. Darnell’s eyes shimmered with pride as he snuck an
arm around her waist and kissed her temple.

"You look wonderful," he spoke softly, and she beamed happily up at
him.

From his place near the entryway into the living room, Spike tugged at
the high stiff shirt collar encircling his throat and glowered at
Darnell, "How the bloody hell did I get roped into this?"

"I believe you let Willow talk you into it, Master," Joseph responded.
"Again."

The glare the blonde vampire bestowed on his male childe was tempered
by the slight smirk that curved his lips, "Bloody stupid clothes.
Bloody stupid *idea*. Only the residents of Sunnyhell would dream up a
Victorian-themed party to celebrate five years of the town’s
resurrection. Talk about taking a flying leap backward to celebrate
moving forward! I lived through the damned nineteenth century. It ain’t
all it’s cracked up to be; I can tell you."

"It could be fun," Emily suggested. "Anyway, it’s worth it just to be
able to wear something this beautiful."

Spike settled disbelieving eyes on her and tugged at the sleeves of his
long dinner jacket, "Nothing could possibly be worth this torture."

Joseph’s gaze shifted beyond the blonde vampire’s shoulder to the
stairway behind him, and he murmured, "*That* just might be."

Spike turned to see Willow coming down the stairs, and an unconscious
gasp of air caught in his throat. Her gleaming auburn tresses spilled
over her shoulders, past the high, lacy collar of her gown that plunged
in a sharp V to her slim, corseted waist. The rich, emerald green
fabric flowed from the bodice to the floor in elegant, straight lines,
and the mutton sleeves billowed every so slightly from her shoulders
and tapered at the wrists and covered the tops of her hands.

"Actually, this party was Christina’s idea," Willow, having overheard
the tail-end of their conversation, spoke as she stepped off the bottom
riser and went to her mate. "And if it makes you feel any better, Giles
wasn’t any happier about it than you are."

Spike, who had not taken his eyes off of her, drew her close to him and
placed a firm kiss on her lips, "Sweetheart, you just pushed the
happiness meter right off the scale."

She smiled up at him, placed her hands on his lapels, and gave him a
soft, quick kiss, "Oh, gods, you’re handsome."

"Joseph?" Emily’s voice spoke in desperate worry as she witnessed Spike
wrapping his mate closer in his arms and returning the kiss with
passionate fervor.

Darnell nodded in understanding and squeezed her waist, "Um...we are
still going, aren’t we?"

Spike grinned down at Willow as he considered the question, "Well...."

"Oh, please!" Emily begged softly.

The redhead shared an amused smile with her lover, "It’ll break her
still heart if we back out now. But you can help me take this off,
later."

"Deal," he nodded, and Emily sighed in relief as Spike and Willow
headed toward the terrace doors.
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
"This is wonderful, Christina!" Ceara proclaimed as she and Angel came
from the ballroom dance floor to join the rest of the gang.

"Thank you," she smiled in delight. "I wish I could take all of the
credit, but I did have a lot of help."

"Well, it’s named appropriately enough, anyway," Spike commented with a
wry smirk. "Resurrection Party."

"Spike," Angel’s tone of warning was offset by a wicked grin.

"I don’t get it," Ceara admitted.

"Neither do I," Willow said.

"You’ve never heard of resurrectionists, pet?" Spike questioned.

"No, who are they?"

"Some sort of cult?" Will guessed.

William snorted and slid an arm around her waist, "Not exactly.
Resurrectionists were grave robbers, luv, back about a century ago.
They’d steal corpses and sell them for medical purposes--for
dissection, to study anatomy, that sort of thing."

Ceara’s eyes widened in revulsion, "Ick!"

"Oh, I don’t know," Willow grinned at the slayer. "Present company
considered, I guess it is rather appropriate."

"And a refined, tastefully elegant celebration takes a direct plunge
straight into the Hellmouth," Giles grimaced.

Christina laughed softly and placed a hand on his arm, "Never mind,
Rupert. We’re celebrating more than Sunnydale’s rebirth, tonight."

"We are?" Will asked curiously.

"Well, *we* think so," Giles nodded with a dazzling smile that lit up
his eyes.

"What else are we celebrating?" the redheaded human’s twin wanted to
know.

"Another birth, in about seven month’s time," Christina answered
happily.

Ceara’s eyebrows disappeared behind her dark bangs, "Another birth?
You...you’re..."

"Going to have a baby," Christina breathed the announcement as though
she could hardly believe it. "We didn’t want to say anything until we
were certain, which we are, now. Ceara, how would you feel about being
a maid of honor?"

A squeal broke from the slayer’s mouth as she flung her arms around the
woman, "I’d love to! You know I would! Oh, Giles, this is--incredible!"

"I rather thought so, myself," he grinned, clutching the hand she
extended to him.

Ceara hugged Giles, and Willow turned slightly away as Darnell and
Emily approached them from the dance floor. At the same moment, a faint
tinkling sound came from overhead, and her gaze traveled upward to a
chandelier that was swaying ever so slightly. Spike sensed her sudden
unease, and his eyes followed hers upward.

"What the h--" her remark was cut off as the other chandeliers in the
vast ballroom began to tremble, and the floor beneath their feet
shifted unnervingly.

A sudden jolt sent her stumbling back against Spike, and he reached out
to steady her as the entire room began to shake. Several pictures
crashed down from their moorings on the wall, a chair overturned,
glasses were rattled from their tables and smashed upon the floor.
Several large candlesticks were overturned, setting napkins,
tablecloths, upholstered chairs alight.

"Bloody hell," William growled, grabbing for Will’s hand as the room
was thrown into chaos.

The orchestra in the far corner was first drowned out, then fell
silent, as loud shrieks of terror and shouts of alarm from the guests
filled the room. Almost as one, the occupants bolted in fear,
scattering in all directions, searching out doors and windows through
which to make an escape.

"That way!" Angel shouted over the din, gesturing toward a set of glass
doors behind him.

Emily latched onto Darnell’s hand as bits of molding and plaster fell
from the ceiling. A chandelier overheard suddenly broke free from its
wiring and crashed to the floor. Three more from across the room
plummeted to the ground, and a huge, ornate grandfather clock near the
main entryway toppled over with an ear-shattering thud. Giles grabbed
Christina’s arm and pushed her quickly along behind Angel and Ceara,
and Spike scooped a solid arm around Willow’s waist and all but carried
her as he followed after them.

The gang raced outside, stopping several feet away from the building as
flames, glowing bright orange behind the shattered windows, began to
lap at the curtains, and the ground continued to rumble underneath
them. William pulled Will close to him as a young couple ran past them,
nearly trampling the young redhead in their haste to get away.

"Make it stop. Make it stop," Willow was chanting the words so quietly,
Spike would not have heard them had it not been for his unnaturally
keen sense of hearing.

He tucked her trembling body flush against his, wrapping both arms
around her, and she clung to him, burying her face in his chest and
squeezing her eyes shut. The earthquake subsided as quickly as it had
begun, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake which was broken only by the
crackling fire from within the ballroom.

"It can’t happen again. It can’t--"

"Shhh," Spike whispered close to her ear, his lips brushing tenderly
across her skin. "It hasn’t, luv. It’s all right. It’s all over."

From a few paces away, Will swallowed hard and looked up at William,
tears glimmering in her eyes, "What is it?"

"Before--" was all Giles’ strained voice could utter.

Angel had moved over to Spike and Willow and placed a comforting hand
on the little vampire’s back, rubbing soothingly as he whispered, "It’s
all right, Willow. Everyone’s out. We’re all safe."

With a visible effort, she calmed herself and, still holding tightly
onto Spike, looked up at him, "I’m sorry. I--"

"Don’t be," he said softly and kissed her forehead. "It’s okay,
sweetheart. Everyone is okay."

She pulled back just a bit and glanced around at the others as if to
reassure herself that they were all really there. Her eyes lingered on
Christina, and the woman smiled softly.

"I’m all right," she promised and found herself swallowing tears as she
felt Giles’ protective arm clasp her a little more tightly.

Willow nodded and turned at Spike’s side, leaning against him when he
didn’t release her.

"What was it?" Ceara asked Giles. "Just an earthquake, or--"

"I don’t know," he admitted. "But perhaps we’d better check for an
‘or,’ just in case."

"You feel up to patrol?" the slayer asked Willow.

"Absolutely," she answered firmly as the sound of fire engines, their
sirens blaring, approached from around the street corner.

She flinched at the noise, and Spike cupped her chin and turned her
face to his, "You sure, pet?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I’m sorry I lost it like that."

"You’re entitled to the occasional flashback, luv," he smiled down at
her. "Hell knows, it’s emblazoned across more than one mind."

"I can attest to that," Giles nodded sympathetically before looking
over at the slayer. "I should get Christina home. I think you had
better do a thorough sweep of the town, and meet us back at the house."

"Right," Ceara nodded.
 
 
 

"Not exactly the best attire for patrolling a Hellmouth," Ceara
grimaced as her sodden gown twisted awkwardly around her ankles.

"Obviously not," Christina agreed from her place beside Giles on the
sofa. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing," Willow answered. "The strange thing is, none of the rest of
the town seems to have been involved in the earthquake."

Giles nodded, "I made a few phone calls while you were out. No other
buildings were hit. It seems that the residents who weren’t at the
party didn’t even realize anything had happened. They didn’t experience
so much as a tremor."

"Even the site where the old high school used to stand didn’t look like
it had been hit," Angel told him. "As strong as those jolts were, I
would have expected that at least some of the memorials erected in the
park where the school used to be would have been toppled."

"I don’t think we’re dealing with the Hellmouth opening," Giles
reasoned.

"But an ordinary earthquake wouldn’t have centered solely on that one
building," Willow stated.

He nodded, "I agree. I don’t think that was a simple earthquake,
either. It’s been an exhausting night, and it’ll be dawn in a couple of
hours. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? Christina and I will
do some research and check out the building and the grounds around the
ballroom tomorrow."
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
The gang, having just completed one more quick sweep of the town, now
stood several feet away from the ballroom. The building was still
standing, but only just. Dark smoke swirled out from the gaping, broken
windows, further discoloring the already blackened outer walls. A trio
of firemen who had stayed on the scene in the event that the smoldering
remains burst into fire once again were now, apparently, satisfied, and
they climbed into a fire engine and slowly pulled away from the curb.

"Goddess, it’s quiet out here tonight," Will spoke softly as she and
the others walked closer to the building.

Angel nodded, "Sunnydale’s residents aren’t nearly as willfully
ignorant as they used to be. I suppose that’s a fortunate thing. I’m
sure most of them won’t be poking their heads out of doors until
sunlight."

"But we didn’t even catch sight of any vampires--not even Spike’s
minions," Will pointed out.

"I sent Darnell to spread the word. Feed and get off the streets,"
Spike explained. "Something’s going on, and whatever it is, it can’t be
good."

"It never is," Ceara nodded soberly. "I just--"

Spike suddenly moved a step ahead of the others as a shadowy form
caught his sight in the darkness.

"What is it?" William asked him.

"Don’t know," he answered. "Something just slithered around that wall,
over there."

He pointed toward the back wall of the building, and their eyes
followed his movement. Willow leaned down and flicked up the hem of her
gown and slid a dagger with a sharp, curved, heavy blade out of its
sheath in her ankle-high boot.

Spike arched a quizzical eyebrow at her, and she shrugged casually,
"Always be prepared."

"Yeah, luv," he grinned. "You’re a regular girl scout."

Ceara turned slightly as Darnell’s lean form, followed closely by
Emily’s slightly shorter one, emerged from the shadows across the
street and moved swiftly to join them.

"Good timing," Angel nodded at the couple. "We’ll split up. Spike, you
and Willow take those two and start around the front of the building.
William and Will can go with us around the back."

"What for?" Emily asked as she and Darnell moved off with Spike and
Willow. "What are we looking for?"

"We don’t know," Willow answered. "But I bet we’ll know it when we find
it."

They made their way around the front of the building and toward the far
wall. A thick tall privacy hedge ran the entire length of the side of
the building and continued on around the back. As they slid around the
front corner of the building, Spike pushed Willow gently behind him and
peered cautiously around. Apart from shattered glass and bits of wood
littering the ground beneath the windows, there was nothing to see, and
the only sounds the vampires could hear were the soft, careful
footsteps of Angel and the others as they made their way around the
back of the ballroom, heading in their direction. Spike reached for
Willow’s hand, and she moved up beside him, with Darnell and Emily only
a few steps behind.

"There’s nothing here," the redhead spoke quietly.

Spike shook his head, "I know I saw some--"

Emily squealed as a blue-white light suddenly exploded in front of
them. The light seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same
time. At the same moment, Willow felt an icy blast of air. It swept
past her with ferocious intensity, tearing her hand free from Spike’s,
and she grunted as she was thrown backwards, colliding with both Emily
and Joseph and landing on top of them. Unconsciously, her human face
slid away as she furiously untangled herself from the small heap of
bodies.

Spike growled and, too late, raised his arm in an attempt to shield his
eyes from the agonizingly bright light. The blonde vampire’s body was
lifted off of the grown and tossed, like a rag doll, against the
building. He crumpled in a heap, the weakened walls raining debris down
upon him. The blinding light suddenly fizzled, like bubbles in soda,
before completely dissipating; the chilling wind ceased, and the air
resumed its former warm stillness.

"Spike!" Willow cried out and crawled desperately across the wet
ground, toward him.

Darnell raced to her as she knelt beside her lover, and the two of them
frantically pulled at the charred and soaked wood that all but covered
Spike’s body, completely ignoring the sound of pounding footsteps as
Angel and the others came around the building on a dead run.

"Spike. Spike," Willow murmured despairingly as she cradled his head in
her hands. "He’s not moving. Angel--"

"I’m here," he spoke, kneeling down beside her. "What happened?"

She shook her head as red tears fell from her eyes, "Oh, gods, he’s so
hot. He’s so hot. Open your eyes, baby. Please--"

"Willow," Angel spoke softly, gently pulling her hands away from her
mate and laying his own hand across his childe’s brow, gasping at the
heat that radiated from his usually cool flesh.

The dark vampire scooped Spike up in his arms, and Darnell placed his
hands on Willow’s shoulders and drew her up onto her feet. Her slight
body was trembling, and she was crying in earnest as her eyes remained
riveted on the unmoving vampire.

Joseph hugged her close to him and looked over at Angel, "The
mansion--"

He shook his head, "Giles’ is closer."

"He needs blood," Darnell argued. "We've lots of it there."

Angel nodded and headed off at a pace that forced the others to all but
run to keep up with him.
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
Mindless of the torn and dirty gown she was still wearing, Willow
perched on the side of the bed, her eyes fastened on Spike. Without
looking away, she reached for the icy-cold cloth Emily handed her in
exchange for the now warm one the redhead had been pressing to her
mate’s brow. Angel moved close beside her and cupped his childe’s cheek
in his hand.

"Much better," he murmured as he touched the cool skin.

"Why doesn’t he wake up?" Willow asked, her voice strained with worry.

"I don’t know," he admitted sadly. "Ceara’s calling Giles. Maybe
he’ll--"

"Spike?" Willow spoke suddenly as his eyelids fluttered. "Spike, wake
up, baby. Please. Look at me."

A frown of pain or confusion, she couldn’t tell which, flitted across
his face as his eyes opened to her.

"Willow?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re okay," she smiled softly and
sniffled as fresh tears filled her eyes.

"What--what hap--"

"I don’t know," she answered. "I don’t know what it was. A bright
light...back at the ballroom...freezing wind...and then
everything...went to hell. But it’s all right, now. You’re all right."

William, who was standing at the foot of the bed, noted the stab of
apprehension behind his double’s eyes and stepped around to Willow’s
side. She lifted Spike’s hand and squeezed it lightly as she raised it
to her mouth. He traced a finger over her lips and pressed his palm to
her cheek.

"Willow?"

Her expression grew worried once again, "What is it? What’s wrong? Are
you hurting?"

He shook his head slightly, closed his eyes, opened them again, "I
can’t see you, baby."

Her eyes flew from Angel, to William, back to Spike, "We’re all right
here, love--"

"I can’t see you," he repeated, his tone tense and grim. "Willow, I
can’t see."
 
 

"Angel," Willow hissed. "I don’t *want* to go downstairs."

From the bed across the room, Spike couldn’t help the flicker of
amusement that curled his lips at the sound of his childe’s fiery
protest.

Angel placed his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes,
"Just give me some time with him. He needs to feed. He needs *my*
blood. And he needs to get some sleep."

"But he can do all that with me right--"

"Let me be with him," he insisted. "Willow, he’s my childe. Give me
time alone with him."

"Come along, Willow," Darnell urged, gently taking her arm as Angel
spun her toward the door. "You need to eat, too."

"I’m not hungry--"

"Yes, you are. You just think you’re not because you’re upset," Angel
told her. "Go on. I’ll come get you as soon as we’re finished. Or if he
needs you."

"But he--"

"Go on," he ordered, opening the door and helping Darnell to guide her
outside before closing it and locking it behind him.

Joseph gave the redhead a sad smile and took her hand, "He’ll be fine.
Come on. I’ll warm up some blood for you."

Glancing forlornly over her shoulder the whole way, she allowed him to
pull her along toward the stairway.
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
Giles had come to the mansion immediately after Will had phoned him,
leaving Christina behind to continue researching. Willow’s eyes went to
him the moment she entered the living room, and Trouble lifted his
solid body from the floor in front of the terrace doors and sat down
very close to her left leg as if to offer support.

"What’s happened to him, Giles?" she asked. "What caused this?"

"I don’t know," he told her. "We haven’t found anything, but we’re
still looking."

"Maybe it’s something physical--in the normal sort of way, I mean,"
Ceara suggested.

"It’s possible," the watcher nodded. "In which case, I’m afraid I’ll be
of little help. I mean, obviously, a vampire’s body functions
differently than a human’s. I wouldn’t even be able to ascertain what
the injury is, let alone whether it’s only temporary or permanent."

"And Sunnydale General probably doesn’t have a vampire specialist,"
Will quipped, although her voice was void of humor.

"Specialist," Willow echoed as she whirled around to Darnell, "Find
Richard. Bring him here."

Joseph nodded and took off out of the room.

"Richard?" Angel asked.

"He’s a doctor."

Ceara looked puzzled, "But Giles just said--"

"He’s a vampire. One of Spike’s boys."

Giles’ body stiffened, "Spike turned a doctor."

"Spike--or somebody--I don’t really know," she shrugged, unconcerned.
"He’s helped out before, soon after we moved in here, when I broke my
wrist, or rather, Silver broke it for me."

"Ah, yes. I remember," Giles nodded, not really caring to stroll down
that particular memory lane. "How do you intend to fetch him here in
broad daylight?"

"He lives on the grounds. In one of the out buildings."

"Even so--"

"The tunnels," she explained.

"Tunnels?" Angel echoed.

"Oh, right. After that business with Cordelia? All of those vampires
roaming about on the estate. Spike thought we’d better have a way to
get around this place during the day. Anyway, Richard’s very good. I’ll
bet he can--"

Giles rose from his chair and walked over to take her hands gently in
his, "I’m sure he is, Willow. But--don’t get your hopes up. We have no
idea what’s happened."

Her shoulders slumped slightly, "I know. But even if he can’t find
anything physically wrong with Spike, that should help us, shouldn’t
it?"

"I suppose so. In some small way," he agreed uncertainly.
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
"Spike!" Will breathed as the blonde vampire entered the room behind
Angel and Willow. "Are you...can you..."

"No," he answered as Willow clutched his hand and led him to the sofa
to sit down beside him.

"Richard couldn’t see that any damage had been done to the optic
nerve," Angel told them as he sat down on the other side of his childe.
"And his pupils are responsive. He couldn’t explain why Spike can’t
see. Spike says he feels fine, and Richard said there’s no reason he
can't move about as he wishes."

"So, it doesn’t seem that we’re dealing with a physical injury," Giles
spoke more to himself than to the others. "There must be another
explanation that Christina and I haven’t found, yet. Spike...what is
this going to do to your...position...the minions, I mean. Will they--"

The watcher abruptly ceased speaking as a low growl rumbled in the
blonde vampire’s chest, and his sightless eyes flashed angrily.

Angel put a hand on his childe’s shoulder, "Spike, he means no offense.
You know that. But your boys are going to find out, eventually, that
their Master can’t see. How do you think they’ll react to that?"

"It won’t be a problem," Willow offered.

"How can you be so certain?" Ceara asked.

Spike reigned in his temper with no small amount of effort and
answered, "Because they know the--arrangement--we have here has worked.
Besides that, they follow Willow with as much loyalty as they follow
me. Even if they considered questioning my ability, I don’t think
they’d be willing to tangle with her over it."

Giles opened his mouth as if to question that judgment and quickly
closed it again when Willow glared over at him as if daring him to put
words to his thoughts.

"I sincerely hope so," the watcher responded, instead. "I’m going back
to the house and help Christina. I’ll let you know if we find
anything."

"Thank you, Giles," Willow replied in a tone that was
uncharacteristically cool.

He rose from his chair, clasped her hand gently for a moment, and her
steely stare softened as she gripped his hand. Giles turned and let
himself out the terrace doors, mindful of the heavy curtain that
shielded the room from the sun shining brightly outside.
 

Ceara looked from William to Angel, "You guys are going to have to stay
here, for now. Maybe Will and I can go back to the ballroom and see if
we can find anything there."

"It’s worth a look," Angel nodded and stood up, pulling her toward him
and gazing down into her eyes. "Just be careful."

"We will," she answered softly, reaching up to kiss him tenderly.

"Willow, are you going to be okay?" her twin asked her.

"Yeah," she nodded, though the strain of the ordeal was clearly etched
on her face. "Go on. We’ll be fine."

The room settled into a morose silence after they had gone, and Angel
glanced over at William, who nodded imperceptibly, and the two vampires
left the room to allow Spike and Willow some time alone together. The
redhead shifted to face her sire and reached up to caress his cheek
with her fingers.

"Spike--" she began, her voice trembling slightly.

"Don’t pity me, ducks," he spoke gruffly, his brow furrowed. "I
couldn’t stand that."

She snatched her hand away as though she’d been burned, "I’m not. I
don’t. Everything is going to work out; I know it."

"Do you?" he questioned. "How can you? In spite of what I told the
watcher, the boys, no matter how loyal, are not going to follow a blind
Master indefinitely. And how the bloody hell am I supposed to help you
when I can’t even *see* you?"

"Don’t," she pleaded, reaching for his hands. "Please don’t."

"Why not?" he snapped. "It’s the truth, isn’t it? You’d better get used
to it, pet, because I’m not hearing any guarantees that I’m not going
to be this way forever, or at least until I step into a nice, bright
ray of sunlight. I mean, I won’t even know it until I’m ashes, will I?"

"I wouldn’t let that happen, Spike!"

He shoved her away from him and rose unsteadily to his feet, "I don’t
want a damned seeing eye dog, Willow!"

"Don’t talk like that," she begged, reaching out to him.

He swatted her hands away and turned suddenly, crashing into the coffee
table and sending it toppling over. With a growl of anger and
frustration, he kicked at it, sending it colliding into an armchair.
Darnell instantly appeared in the entryway, and Spike’s head snapped up
as he sensed the vampire’s presence.

"Master--"

"Take me upstairs," Spike barked.

Willow sat stone-still, her eyes following them until they disappeared
around the corner, then sank back into the cushions of the sofa and
buried her face in her hands as she wept. Lost in her own misery, she
didn’t notice William when he stepped into the room and crossed over to
her. She started when he knelt in front of her and put a hand on her
knee.

"Shhh...it's all right, luv," he pulled her forward and into his arms,
cradling her head against his shoulder.

Bitter tears coursed from her eyes, staining her pale cheeks and his
shirt as he rubbed his hand over her back. After a moment, her felt her
hands on his arms, gripping them as she fought to control her emotions.
She pulled away slightly and smiled miserably.

"I can’t do this, can I?" she whispered. "It won’t help him."

"It might help you," he responded, brushing away her tears with gentle
fingers. "Anyway, you know I won’t tell him."

"Thanks," she nodded, taking in a gulp of unneeded air.

He placed his hands on her cheeks and kissed her forehead, "Listen,
pet, you need to get out of those clothes. You’re filthy and tired, and
you haven’t eaten, have you? Darnell told me you didn’t touch that mug
he heated up for you, and that was hours ago."

"I couldn’t--"

"Nonsense," he shook his head. "Go on upstairs, and draw a bath. I’ll
come up in a minute and bring you some blood."

He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her up onto her feet, and
her body shook slightly as she began to cry once again.

"I’m sorry," she muttered as he held her close to him. "I knew if I
started this, I wouldn’t be able to stop."

He smiled against her hair, "You will, when you have to."

She clung to him for a moment, and he rocked her gently until her tears
ebbed, and the trembling eased. William placed a kiss on her head and
drew her way from him.

"Go start your bath. I’ll be right up," he spoke softly.

She nodded and stepped away from him, and he stared sullenly after her
as she slowly made her way out of the room.
 
 
 

Darnell stood just outside the threshold and watched Willow for a
moment as she sat at the dressing table in the guestroom, staring at
her non-reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair. Thankful that
Spike had finally fallen asleep, she had insisted on bathing and
dressing in this room so as not to wake him. William had spent several
minutes talking quietly with her before leaving a warm mug of blood and
going downstairs to wait for Will and Ceara to return. Joseph’s eyes
moved from the redhead to the full mug sitting in front of her, the
third that had been brought to her during the day which, like the
others, had gone untouched and had grown cold.

"Still not hungry?" he asked softly as he moved up behind her.

"How is he?" she asked, ignoring the question and closing her eyes when
he took the brush from her and began to glide it, in slow relaxing
strokes, through the richly gleaming tresses that fell all the way to
her waist.

"He just woke up. He seems in better spirits," Joseph answered.

She shook her head sadly, "I love him so much, and I don’t know how to
help him."

"You will," he assured her. "You always do. He asked me to come find
you."

"Okay, thanks," she replied, shifting around to stand.

He reached out and gripped her arm as she moved around him, "I won’t be
far, Willow. If you need anything--"

She smiled weakly and placed her hand over his for a moment, then
turned wordlessly and exited the room.
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
Spike was propped up against the headboard, the black silk sheets
covering the lower half of his naked body, and his head turned toward
her as his childe entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hello," she responded. "It’s nearly sunset."

"I can feel it," he nodded.

Spike noted the brief hesitation before she spoke uneasily, almost
timidly, "Did you sleep okay? Do you need any--"

"Willow, come here, pet," he asked, extending an arm toward her.

She went to the bed and took his hand as she crawled across the
mattress to sit down beside him. Spike’s arm moved around her waist,
and he pulled her down to rest her head against his chest.

"I woke up alone. I missed you," he told her.

"I thought you might need--some space," she replied.

His fingers found their way to her hair, drifting gently through the
silky strands, "I’m sorry about earlier, luv."

"It’s okay."

"No, not really," he contended.

He felt her shaking her head against him, "You have to be able to tell
me, Spike. I have to know if I’m crowding you or--"

He groaned and rested his cheek against her hair, "You never crowd me,
sweetheart. I’ve always needed you."

"Just not this much," she added sadly.

He placed a kiss on her head, "Maybe not quite this way, but always
this much."

Finally, he felt her relax more against him as she snuggled deeper into
his arms.

"Anyway," he continued. "It’s not so different."

She looked up at him, confused, "What do you mean?"

He smiled and brought his hand slowly toward her face until his fingers
made contact with her soft, cool skin, "I’m acquainted with blindness,
luv. You’ve been dazzling me for years."

He tasted the grin on her lips as they brushed over his, and he drew
her tongue into his mouth and kissed her deeply. Willow turned in his
arms and pressed her body against his. His hands found the buttons on
her shirt, and he fumbled with them for a moment before finally just
tearing the garment open and shoving it off of her shoulders. She
raised herself up and unzipped her jeans, wriggling out of them and
tossing them to the floor. Spike’s arms wound around her waist as she
flicked back the sheets to draw his naked body close to hers. Her small
hand snaked between them, and he hissed as she took his hardening cock
into her hands, stroking it with practiced fingers.

Spike rolled her under him, and she parted her legs and arched up into
him as he plunged deep within her. He kissed his way from her lips to
her breasts, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth and running his
tongue over the puckered flesh. Willow moaned and slammed her hips back
into his as he rode her, placing pressure against her swelling clit
with each long, hard thrust. Her slender fingers wound through his hair
as he bit into her the swell of her breast and suckled her blood. Their
movements increased in frantic intensity as her walls began to clench
around him, milking him into his own orgasm as she came hard, screaming
his name.

He lapped clean the drops of blood that oozed from her skin and placed
cool kisses on her shoulders, her throat, her cheeks, her lips. He
shifted off of her, still sheathed inside her, and wound his legs
through hers. Willow purred softly as she rested against him, her body
relaxing as he stroked her hair. Their mouths sought out one another’s
for another long, tender kiss before she settled back down into the
circle of his strong arms.

"I love you," she whispered in soft contentment.

He squeezed her to him and kissed her head, "Darnell tells me you
haven’t been eating, luv."

"Darnell talks to much," she grumbled.

He chuckled softly, "Want some of mine?"

"No," she answered softly.

"No?" he echoed, clearly surprised.

"You need it, Spike," she insisted. "There’s lots in the kitchen."

"Then there’s lots for me, too."

She tilted her head to look up at him, "You hate bagged blood."

He shrugged, "Angel is going to feed me regularly, for the time being.
I can make do with bagged in between."

"You won’t have to unless I’m drinking from you. You need your sire’s
blood, baby. I’m not taking that from you."

The blonde vampire arched an eyebrow, "You’re bloody stubborn. You know
that?"

"I’d parade through the sunlight, if you needed me to," she declared.

"I know you would," he whispered, secretly wishing he could see the
look of conviction on her beautiful face that must surely match the
tone in her voice. "Gods, you have to be exhausted, sweetheart. Sleep
with me, and then promise me you’ll eat."

"I promise," she answered before burrowing down closer to him to find
the first hours of sleep she had had since the earthquake.
 
 
 

Willow crossed through the open bedroom doorway and glanced over at
Spike. With a little smile, she walked to him and began to fix the
shirt he had buttoned incorrectly, starting at the bottom-most button
and working her way up. When she finished, she slid her arms up the
collar and around his neck.

"Bloody hell, pet," he grumbled. "I can’t even *dress* myself, let
alone--"

"Hush," she whispered and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You’ve been
dealing with this since last night; that’s hardly enough time to
adjust. Besides, I’ve taken your clothes *off* often enough, so why
shouldn’t I help you put them on? Although, to be truthful, ‘off’ suits
you better. Or maybe I should say unsuits, since off means you’re
not--"

"Willow," Spike interrupted, wrapping his arms around her.

"I know," she nodded. "Babbling again. Anyway, we should head over to
Giles' place. Ceara and eveyone else left as soon as he called. They’ll
be waiting for us. If we’re lucky, maybe he’s come up with some
answers."

"You’re the only luck I’ve ever had, pet," he told her as she took his
hand to lead him out of the room and toward the stairs. "Wait right
here."

"Why?" she asked, puzzled.

"I have to learn to get around this place on my own, don’t I?" he
responded, moving slowly away from her and feeling the air with his
hand until it made contact with the stairway banister.

Willow waited a moment, then crept silently behind him to watch over
him nervously as he descended step by step. When he reached the bottom,
he turned around and looked up at her as though he could actually see
her standing above him.

"How’d I do?" he quirked an amused eyebrow.

Willow’s mouth dropped open, "How did you know I was here?"

"Because I know you, sweetheart," he grinned, and she rolled her eyes
and came down the stairs. "Find Darnell and tell him to come with us.
We might need him. I’ll wait for you on the terrace."

She hesitated for a split second, "Are you--"

"I’m sure," he insisted. "Living room is to the right. Five steps."

"Okay," she smiled and turned to head toward the kitchen. "Watch out--I
mean, be careful of the stand beside the door."

"Got it," he nodded as he turned through the entryway and into the
living room.

By the time Willow and Darnell made their way to the terrace, with
Emily tagging along behind, Spike was already outside. The redhead’s
concerned eyes flew to Joseph at the sound of Spike’s loud, angry
voice. He was standing just off the edge of the slate flooring, and
Trouble had planted himself in the vampire’s path, refusing to budge.
When the blonde vampire attempted to move beyond him, the dog lunged
for his pant leg, sunk his teeth into the fabric, and put all of his
weight into yanking Spike back.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with this--"

"Spike," Willow called out as she flew to his side and put her hand on
his arm. "You’re too far left; a few more steps and you’ll be in the
fountain."

His anger evaporated, and she squeezed his arm as a flicker of
irritation raced across his handsome features. His immediate reaction
was to shake her hand off, but he quickly reached out for her when she
backed away.

"I’m sorry, luv," he spoke softly and felt her arms go around him the
moment the words were out of his mouth.

She kissed him once, and he held her for a moment before drawing away,
"We'd better get going."

"Yeah," she agreed.

She dropped down to her knees and put her hands on either side of
Trouble’s face, gently scratching his fur as she plopped a smooch on
his head, "Thanks, Trouble."

His tail waggled from under his seated rear end, and he stuck his nose
in her ear. Willow giggled and rose to stand beside her mate once
again, and she slid her hand into his to head off toward Giles’.
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
The dog sat on the other side of Giles’ and Christina’s patio door, his
nose pressed against the glass, like a forlorn outcast. Willow turned
hopeful eyes on the watcher.

Giles shook his head, "No. Absolutely not."

The little redhead scowled, "You’re mean."

Christina couldn’t help snorting at this pronouncement from the vampire
and asked helpfully "Would he like some water?"

Willow nodded, "He likes milk better."

"Milk?" she repeated incredulously as she headed out of the room. "You
buy that mongrel milk?"

"Chocolate, if you have it," Willow requested as the woman disappeared.
"And he *isn’t* a mongrel!"

The others shared an amused glance and waited until Christina
reappeared with a plastic bowl of milk, and Willow took it from her and
opened the patio door just wide enough to slip the container outside.
Trouble sprawled out on the ground, the bowl between his front paws,
and happily lapped away.

Giles sighed, "Now that the guest of honor has been seen to, perhaps we
could--"

"Right," Will agreed. "Did you guys find something?"

He nodded, "I think we may have, but--and I hesitate to say this--we
need some help."

Angel glanced around at the others in the room as they waited
expectantly for the watcher to continue. Whatever sort of help it was
that Giles was about to request, he appeared to be almost afraid to
ask. Finally, after a too long and too uncomfortable silence, the dark
vampire could stand it no longer.

"What have you found out?" he asked. "What is it you need us to do?"

The watcher shifted uneasily and took Christina’s hand, "I’d rather not
go into the details until we have verification that our assumptions are
correct. It’s--well, it’s personal--although, if I’m right, it will
certainly involve the rest of you. Some more directly than others, I
suppose."

Ceara’s steady gaze met his as his eyes rested briefly on hers, "You’re
talking in riddles. Just tell us what sort of help you’re looking for."

"Mathala’s," Christina answered softly when Giles hesitated once more.

Willow’s eyes flew to the woman, "You want Mathala’s help?"

"I’m not sure that we want it, but we do need it," Giles responded. "In
fact, she’s probably the only safe resource we have at the moment. I
need to communicate directly with someone from the demon realm. If she
has knowledge of--that is, whatever she may know, I’m sure we can trust
her to keep it to herself. Please don’t ask me to explain any further."

"All right," the redhead nodded.

Her lips twitched with a grin as the rest of the gang grew tense, and
an uneasy silence enveloped the room as they waited for her to commence
what they thought would be a summoning ritual.

Willow raised her voice slightly and called out, "Hey! Mathala!"

From the armchair that she was sharing with William, Will burst into
giggles, "’Hey, Mathala?’"

"Whatever works," William shrugged, laughing along with her.

The gnarled form of the little demon appeared in her signature glow of
green light to stand before her Master. She looked up at Willow,
waiting wordlessly.

"Giles?" Willow spoke in invitation.

"Perhaps you should explain to her what’s happened so far," he
suggested.

"I am already aware of the present situation, Master," Mathala spoke
directly to Willow.

"All of it?" she asked. "You know about the ballroom, the attack? You
know what’s happened to Spike--his blindness?"

The demon nodded, casting a quick, sad glance at her Master’s mate,
"Most all of the demon realm is aware."

Willow’s face registered surprise at the statement. Although Mathala
was never more than a summons away, the small demon never asserted
herself into Willow’s life unless she was specifically asked to do so.

"Why is that?" the redhead wanted to know.

Giles was immediately on his feet, alarmed, "No!"

Heedless of the man’s plea, Mathala began to answer her Master,
"Because the--"

Willow held up her hand to stop her, "Be silent."

"Hey, that was good! You’re actually beginning to sound like a demon
owner," William laughed.

Spike chuckled, and Willow grinned and looked over Mathala’s head at
Giles, "I’m lost, here. What exactly is it that you want to know?"

"Do you know what happened at the ballroom?" the watcher asked the
demon.

She looked up at Willow, who nodded her consent, before answering the
question, "There was an earthquake. The building caught fire. Everyone
ran to safety. Later, my Master and her friends returned. She and her
mate were attacked by a cold blast of wind, blinding light, searing
heat, but no visible presence. My Master’s lover was left blinded."

Christina shook her head, "We already know all of that."

"Yes," Mathala nodded.

Giles groaned, realizing that this was going to be as convoluted a
conversation as he had feared, "Tell us something we don’t know."

The tiny demon appeared to be thinking about that for a moment before
she responded, "Well, when a demon needs to--"

"No!" Ceara exclaimed. "After the attack, Mathala. Tell us something we
don’t know about--"

"Oh, yes," the demon nodded. "I misunderstood. Well, my Master and her
mate had a--disagreement of sorts, but they--how do you say it,
Master?--they shagged, and--"

"Be quiet!" Willow shouted at Mathala overtop of William and Angel’s
amused laughter.

She appeared to tremble slightly, and her gaze fell to her twisted
hands, "I’m sorry, Master. I thought--"

"It’s all right," the redheaded vampire spoke more softly. "It isn’t
your fault. Giles, what the bloody hell *exactly* do you want to know?"

"Well, certainly not *that*," the watcher grinned as the blush on his
cheeks faded. "Mathala, that wasn’t an ordinary earthquake, was it?"

"No."

"A demon?"

"No."

Christina gasped in surprise, and Giles rose to his feet and looked
around at her, confused as to how to proceed.

Willow bent down so as to be at eye-level with the diminutive Mathala
and said, "Not a demon."

"That’s correct, Master."

"Then, that earthquake wasn’t the result of demon activity?" Christina
questioned.

"Yes."

Giles’ expression changed from confusion to anger, "What the hell is
*that* supposed to mean?"

"Don’t answer him. Don’t answer any of their questions, Mathala,"
Willow ordered. "Answer just me. Was that earthquake the result of
demon activity?"

"Yes."

"But it wasn’t a demon?"

"No."

"Then what caused it?"

"Three demons," Mathala answered.

Satisfied, Willow nodded and stood back up, looking over at Giles,
"See? It’s easy."

Nonplused, he merely stared back at her, took a deep breath, and
collected himself.

"I say we’re done here in--oh--about an hour," Ceara whispered rather
loudly to Angel.

He smiled and shook his head, "Two."

"You’re on," she nodded. "Winner gets to be on top."

Giles blushed to his roots and laughed out loud, "Yes, well. Dare I
venture to ask yet another question?"

"Go for it, big guy," Christina grinned and reached up from her place
on the sofa to take his hand.

He cleared his throat, thought for a moment, and asked, "Why did the
demons target the ballroom? I assume there was someone there they
wished to harm?"

Mathala stood silently in front of Willow, looking for all the world as
if she hadn’t heard the man.

From beside her, Spike’s arm moved from Willow’s back to encircle her
waist, and he squeezed her and suggested, "Uh, sweetheart, I think you
have to put her in drive."

"Huh?" Willow looked up at him. "Oh! Yeah. Mathala, you may answer
Giles."

"Yes."

Christina groaned as Giles smacked a hand against his forehead and
shook his head, "Yes--what??"

The demon’s already wrinkled brow furrowed even more, "Yes--sir?"

Will leaned back against William, shaking with laughter, and spoke
breathlessly, "Willow! Do something!"

The redheaded vampire giggled and addressed Mathala, "Who was at the
ballroom that night--the night of the earthquake--that the demons
wanted to harm?"

"Christina," the demon answered, waving a small gesture toward the
woman on the sofa.

Ceara tensed at the grave expression on Giles' face, "Is that the
answer you were expecting?"

"Yes," he nodded somberly.

All traces of humor immediately fled the room.
 
 

Giles waited until Willow had released Mathala, a suggestion with which
the rest of the gang heartily agreed, before he waved the redheaded
vampire and her sire to an armchair in invitation to sit. Just as the
others readied their minds to hear the watcher’s explanation, Christina
rose from the sofa and insisted on making a pot of tea.

Giles thought a stiff shot of whiskey would be more appropriate,
considering the circumstances, and said as much as he went to the
liquor cabinet across the room to pour a glass for himself, as well as
one for Angel, Spike, and William. The watcher downed his own in a
single gulp, and Angel set his aside to await Christina’s return.

"I notice he didn’t pour *us* one," Will commented dryly, plucking the
glass out of William’s hand and taking a swallow.

Her eyes teared up, and she spluttered and coughed as the whiskey
burned a path down her throat. William chuckled and retrieved the glass
from her fingers as she gasped out a quiet, "Never mind."

Darnell, who had snatched Emily’s hand and had hastily decided to step
outside to check on Trouble while the others spoke with Mathala, had
returned with his childe by the time Christina reappeared in the living
room with a tray bearing cups of steaming hot tea. She passed them
around to the other ladies before settling back down on the sofa beside
Giles.

"Are you ready, love?" Giles asked her softly.

"No," she smiled weakly. "But I don’t think I’ll ever be. So--just go
ahead. Tell them."

He nodded and reached for her hand, twining his fingers through hers
and holding it with calm reassurance as he looked around at the others.

"Let me begin by just stating that, before all this happened, I had no
personal knowledge of what I’m about to tell you. Christina, of course,
did, but she chose to keep it to herself. As far as I’m concerned,
that’s completely understandable. If we weren’t facing what we now are,
there would have been no reason for us to have ever known. It’s really
her business--part of a very personal past--and nothing that would have
ever impacted any of us. I suspect that part of it would have come out
anyway, over the course of time. At any rate, she hasn’t kept anything
from us that she thought might have hurt us or compromised any of our
positions here in Sunnydale."

"Giles, whatever this is about, no one here believes Christina would
ever do anything to hurt us or to jeopardize the Hellmouth," Ceara
interrupted. "We know her well enough to know she has our best
interests--and the town’s--at heart. We trust her; we’ll understand."

Christina cast a grateful look at the slayer and set down her tea cup,
"Ceara, this has to do with your predecessor. Oddly enough, Rupert told
me you were discussing her only a short while ago."

"Silver?" Willow asked. "She’s been dead for years. What does all of
this have to do with her?"

"I don’t want you to think I hold her death against you," Christina
replied. "I know, as does the rest of the council, what happened while
she was here. And I understand that you really had no other choice."

"Why would you hold it against us, anyway?" Angel asked her. "Silver
had nothing to do with you. That was before you arrived in Sunnydale."

"Only a little before," the woman reminded him with a slight smile.
"Silver was my niece."

"What?" Willow squeaked, her eyes growing wide.

"I have to admit that I was surprised none of you ever made the
connection," Christina told her. "She always bore a rather remarkable
resemblance to me. Same build, same dark hair, same grey eyes. I
suppose the trauma she left in her wake was reason enough to push her
from your minds as quickly as possible, though."

Willow looked from her to Spike, "I--I killed her niece?"

"Willow, I don’t blame you for what happened back then," Christina
repeated her earlier declaration. "I understand that you were defending
yourself. I regret that I never spent much time with Silver. I never
knew her well. She was my older sister’s child. Her husband was also a
member of the council, though we never worked closely together. He may
not have realized what Silver would become while he was raising her,
but he had no doubts after the slayer who preceded her was killed. I’m
reasonably certain that the leaders of the council knew, though they
took great steps to keep it from the rest of us. I think Silver must
have sensed there was something different about herself. According to
her father, she was always rebellious.

"Her mother died in childbirth, and Silver always gave Geoffrey--that’s
my brother-in-law--grief. He often said she was the most difficult
child he’d ever known. I was already a member of the faction that was
campaigning for the council to step out of the dark ages and start
acting more reasonably. When Silver was sent to Sunnydale and she began
her reign of terror, I pushed even harder to unseat the group that was
heading the council. Even Geoffrey came over to our side. Anyway,
that’s all in the past, except for the bearing it has on our
current--problem."

"These demons are after you because Silver was your niece?" Ceara
asked.

"In a way," Giles nodded and looked over at Willow. "When you described
the cold blast of wind, the blinding light, and the scorching heat that
hit Spike, I surmised that there may have been more than one demon.
Christina and I researched until we felt we had the right answer, but I
needed someone who would know for sure and who could verify what we
believed."

"Mathala," Will spoke.

"Exactly," he nodded. "We know Mathala can't help Spike's situation.
Mathala and these three demons are from different realms. She’s
benevolent; they’re not. Aside from that, she doesn’t have the ability
to undo what another demon has done. What I really needed was
confirmation that we're dealing with more than one demon and who it is
that they're after."

Ceara looked puzzled, "Okay, I get that. But I still don’t understand
why Christina is the one they--"

He held up a hand to silence her and continued, "Now, we all know that
the slayer’s abilities aren’t inherited. They aren’t passed along a
bloodline, so to speak. We also know that Silver was completely
irresponsible in her actions. She didn’t have a passion to kill only
demons and the like; she was more than willing to destroy
anything--anyone--including humans."

Christina squeezed his hand and added, "Geoffrey was always disturbed
by what Silver had become. I suppose he felt responsible, in some way,
having raised her himself. But he couldn’t have known. Even the council
didn’t recognize what was wrong with her, though I’m thinking more and
more that, if we had really been doing our jobs, we would have realized
that we should have looked into it then."

"You’ve lost me," Angel admitted. "You’re saying Silver’s problems went
beyond some sort of mental instability?"

"I’m sorry," she smiled. "I guess we’re telling this backwards. You
see, after Rupert and I finished researching the demons, I got onto my
brother-in-law back in England and asked him to dig up my sister's old
medical records, just to confirm that my memories were accurate. My
sister died during delivery. Though the doctors were never able to put
a name to it, they all felt she had contracted some sort of virus that
weakened her. She’d complain of freezing cold drafts, of bright flashes
of lights behind her eyes that were nearly blinding in
intensity--though she never actually lost her sight. Then she would
become dangerously feverish. Willow, when you described what happened
outside the ballroom when you were attacked, it all came back. And I
knew. I just--knew."

"She was attacked by the same demons," Ceara spoke grimly.

Giles' face was ashen, "If they had attacked her early enough in her
pregnancy, they would have destroyed the fetus, along with the mother.
However, they must not have recognized soon enough what sort of child
she was carrying. The attacks didn’t occur until the eighth month of
pregnancy. She delivered early. As it was, the damage they’d inflicted
was just as deadly, perhaps even moreso. They caused her mother’s death
and left enough of themselves behind to influence what Silver would
become."

"She was possessed?" William asked.

"Perhaps not possessed, but driven. She was, for all intents and
purposes, their tool, not the council's. These demons knew that the
Hellmouth would never reach any sort of balance as long as she was free
to kill whoever she felt was in her way. And as long as she remained
alive, no other slayer would be called to right such a damning wrong,"
Christina answered. "As I said, given Silver’s background and her
actions soon after arriving in Sunnydale, the council--myself
included--should have recognized that something was seriously off. I’ll
regret that forever."

Angel looked at her compassionately, "I’m not sure it would have made
any difference. Not by that point in time."

"Maybe not," she conceded. "I suppose it’s all academic now, anyway."

"And now these demons are after you? After your child?" Willow asked.
"Why? Retribution for destroying Silver?"

"No," Giles answered. "Not retribution. A second chance. Because of
what happened to Silver, the powers that be--or whoever decides these
things--has apparently given Christina the opportunity to right the
legacy that should have been born to Silver but which was stolen from
that defenseless infant."

The arm which Angel had curled around Ceara now tightened about her
waist, and he pulled her closer to him as a shiver of comprehension
shook her slender body. Her eyes traveled from Giles to Christina.

"Your baby," she spoke softly. "You’re going to give birth to the--the
future slayer."

"Yes," Christina nodded soberly.

"And these demons--" Will broke off, unable to finish the thought.

"Want to make sure that doesn’t happen. They want Christina
dead--before our baby is born," Giles finished it for her as Christina
focused her eyes on their intertwined hands, and a tear slid down her
cheek.
 
 
 
 

The grim reality of what Christina and Giles were facing settled
heavily over the room as the gathering of humans and vampires sat in
silence, letting the information they had just learned seep into their
unwilling minds.

"I want to send her away," Giles finally spoke. "For her own safety and
the baby’s. To England or--"

"Rupert, we’ve discussed this," Christina’s eyes snapped to his. "I
don’t want to leave."

"It isn’t practical, anyway, is it?" Willow asked. "I mean, where could
she possibly go that would be safer than where she is now?"

"Anywhere!" Giles barked. "Anywhere on earth has got to be safer
than--"

"That isn’t true," Angel saw where Willow was heading and took up her
point. "Giles, these demons have pegged Christina. They know who she is
and what your baby will become. There’s nowhere she can go where they
won’t find her. As ironic as this sounds, the Hellmouth is the safest
place for her. We can protect her. We can track down these demons and
destroy them."

Over the course of the past fifty minutes, Spike’s grip on Willow’s
waist had grown increasingly strong, and the little redhead knew what
her sire was thinking. She pushed herself up out of the chair and
reached for him, drawing him up to stand beside her.

"Excuse us for a minute," she asked and led him outside to the patio.

The others’ eyes followed them in silence, and Willow waited until she
could hear their voices resume talking quietly from the other side of
the door. In a moment, Darnell and his childe followed after them,
keeping a discreet distance between themselves and Willow and Spike,
who had moved to the far end of the patio.

"Spike--" she began.

"I can’t help them," he cut her off. "As crazy as it sounds, I would if
I could. If these demons succeed, it isn’t going to make any difference
in the long run. Regardless of what they might do to that child,
another slayer will be called, when it’s time. But that
one--Christina’s--could be raised by people who actually have a grasp
on what living on a Hellmouth is all about. A slayer raised by parents
like that, taught by humans who understand the need for what we do--for
maintaining the balance here--"

"I know," she nodded. "It would be almost ideal, wouldn’t it?"

"The closest that we’re ever likely to get," he agreed. "But I can’t
stop this, can I? The bastards that want to take out Christina could be
standing right in front of me, and I couldn’t even take a swing at them
and have any hope of connecting."

"That’s what this is all about, though--"

"Is it?" Darnell asked softly, and Willow turned to look at him. "The
focus of this little meeting seems to have shifted dramatically."

Willow turned back to Spike and put her hands on his arms, gripping
them tightly, "It doesn’t matter what they’re focusing on right now.
I’m going to find a way to fix this, Spike. You aren’t going to be
blind forever. I swear it."

"Sweetheart, you don’t know that. You can’t possibly know. Even if the
boys stand behind me--which they won’t do forever--I’m eventually going
to make a mistake. A fatal mistake. It’s inevitable."

"I don’t accept that!" she hissed angrily. "Damn it, Spike! I am not
going to lose you!"

He shook his head, "Pet, you need to be concentrating on the minions.
If we work this right, they’ll shift the power to you, and you can--"

"Shut up!" she shouted, causing Emily to jump and quickly step closer
to Joseph’s side. "I refuse to listen to this! We’re in this
together--forever. There is no way in hell I’m going to do this without
you."

"Willow. Luv, be reasonable--"

"I don’t want to be bloody reasonable!" she snapped. "I love you, you
idiot! Nothing else matters to me besides that. If the boys respect
me--"

"They do," he assured her.

"--it’s because of what we’ve accomplished here--together--the both of
us. We’re mates, Spike. Sire and childe, lovers, partners. So you’d
better hang on until we find out how to fix this because if you don’t,
you really are going to make a stupid mistake that will get you killed.
And when you do, I swear on my soul, I’m following right after you."

Emily’s hand found Darnell’s and she squeezed it and whispered, "She
doesn’t mean that. Does she?"

"She does," he nodded, his eyes glued to the couple across from them.

Taking no notice of the other two vampires, Willow continued, "If
Sunnydale is going to continue to survive the way it has, it needs more
than watchers and slayers who understand the delicate equilibrium here.
It needs a Master vampire who knows what the bloody hell is what!"

Spike arched an eyebrow, "That’s you, pet."

She growled in frustration, "That’s *us*, you jackass! Us! This town
needs you! *I* need you! I love you, Spike. You can’t resign yourself
to getting killed and expect me to stay here and carry on without you.
Would you want to do that?"

He shuddered slightly and put his arms around her, "Never."

"Neither do I. So stop talking this way! You're sightless, not
brainless. We’ll find an answer. We’ll find the way to fix this."

"What if we don’t, luv?" he asked. "What if I either have to learn how
to exist like this or admit that it ultimately means my demise?"

"Then we learn how to exist like this together, or we go together.
There are no other options. There is no alone. It’s us, or nothing."

Angel, who had been drawn to the door by their loud exchange, opened
the door, "Spike. Willow. We need you."

The redhead nodded and raised her hand to Spike’s cheek, "Are we clear
on this?"

"Yeah, luv," he nodded and lowered his head to meet her lips.

She held him tightly for a moment before sliding her hand into his and
stepping around Emily and Darnell to go into the living room.

Emily looked up at her sire, her face clouded with confusion, "Why
would she say those things? Why would she throw away the chance to
become Sunnydale’s only Master? Why would she kill herself if--"

"She loves him," he shrugged tugging her toward the door.

"Vampires don’t love," she argued.

He grinned down at her, "Those vampires do."

"Giles took Christina upstairs," Ceara said as Darnell and Emily
stepped inside to join the others. "I think all of this has done a job
on her. He’s going to stay with her until she falls asleep."

"So, what’s next?" Willow questioned. "Do we track down these demons
and kill them, or what?"

Angel’s eyes were fixed on his childe and Willow, "Giles doesn’t think
we’ll have to track them down. They’ll come to us--or to Christina,
anyway. But, yeah, we have to destroy them, and quickly. Giles feels
they targeted Spike at the ballroom because he’s the Master here. They
want him incapacitated for the same reason they want to kill
Christina--to tear the power base right out from under the Hellmouth."

"Does that mean that they don’t realize the power that Willow wields
with the minions?" Will asked.

"I can’t imagine that they don’t," Ceara answered. "I don’t know why
they didn’t hit her. Maybe we all came storming around the building and
dragged Spike off before they had a chance to regroup and go after
her."

"Then Willow is in danger, as well," the chill in William’s angry voice
sent a shiver down the slayer’s spine.

"This whole town is in danger if we don’t take them down," Willow spoke
from Spike’s side. "What about Spike? I mean his--his blindness."

"Richard said there’s no physical damage to Spike’s eyes. Giles is sure
that if we destroy the demons, Spike’s sight will be restored," Angel
said.

"So, let’s find them and kill them," Willow suggested.

Ceara shook her head, "It isn’t that easy--"

"It never is," she shrugged. "Let’s go--"

"Willow, how are we supposed to do that? None of us saw them back at
that ballroom," Angel reminded her.

"The four of us did!" she argued, waving a hand to include Joseph and
Emily.

"No, we didn’t," Darnell spoke up from his place by the patio door. "We
felt the cold; we saw the light; and Spike was the only one who felt
the heat. They didn’t take on any sort of corporeal form."

"But Spike saw something slither around the building before that," the
redhead contended.

"That was a lure, baby," her mate responded. "And we bit."

"All right," she conceded. "But that means they *can* take on physical
form."

"Yes, but it isn’t prerequisite to attacking," Giles, explained as he
returned to the living room. "Christina’s sister never saw anything. We
can’t track them down. We’re going to have to wait for them to come to
us."

"But Christina!" Will gasped. "Giles, we can’t let them--"

"I know," he sighed, plucking his glasses from his face to rub the
bridge of his nose. "I don’t like it anymore than the rest of
you--less, even. But we don’t have much choice. They’ve found
Christina. They won’t wait long to make another attempt on her life."

"Do you need us to stay here?" Ceara offered immediately.

He smiled fondly at her, "Yes. And we’re going to need reinforcements.
We’re dealing with three demons that we can’t even see. Christina and I
assumed we’d found out their purpose before we had Willow summon
Mathala to confirm our research, so we also researched a way to force
them to take on corporeal form, but we can’t do that until they’re
here. Some of us are going to have to stay near Christina. She’s
sleeping now, and I’m going straight up to her."

"Where are we going to get reinforcements?" Angel asked him, then
looked over at Spike and Willow. "Will your minions--"

"They will if they’re told," the blonde vampire answered.

"Right," Giles nodded. "It would be best if you’d go now. We need you
back here as quickly as possible. And bring that doctor of yours.
What’s his name? Richard? I assume he has medical supplies. Tell him to
bring them along."

Ceara’s brow furrowed, "What sort of medical supplies? What for?"

"I’ve made up a list," he answered, pulling a small sheet of paper from
his shirt pocket and handing it to Willow. "If there’s anything there
that he doesn’t have, tell him to find it. I’ll explain everything when
you return. I’m going back up to Christina now."

"Come with us," Willow said to Darnell as she and Spike rose from the
sofa. "Emily, stay here, and do what they tell you to--"

She bristled and shot a glare at Ceara, "You must be joking!"

Willow was on top of her in two swift strides, fangs flashing, eyes
burning, as she latched onto the younger vampire’s throat, "Do I look
like I’m joking? You’ll do whatever the bloody hell you’re told to do."

Emily swallowed and nodded quickly, "Yes, Mistress. Sorry."

Darnell’s quick hand steadied his childe as Willow released her and
took a step back, and he lowered his mouth to her ear and spoke firmly,
"Em, we won’t be long. Just follow orders while we’re gone, or she’ll
finish that when we get back here. Got it?"

"I’ll behave. I promise," she answered. "I’m sorry."

He placed a quick kiss on her head and turned to follow Willow and
Spike out the patio door.
 
 
 

Willow slipped an arm around Spike as he gave his orders to the group
of minions who had been summoned to the mansion.

"Let me get this straight," one of the vampires spat. "You’re expecting
us to help out the slayer, the watcher. We’re supposed to give a damn
about any of them? You’re *ordering* us to go to his home to defend him
and his pregnant bitch?"

From his place beside Richard, Darnell closed his eyes, shook his head
slowly, and mumbled, "This ought to be good."

Richard snorted, his lips curled into a smile of amusement, "He *has*
to be a fledgling."

"You’re blind, all right. In more ways than one," the minion continued
with a contemptuous sneer.

Spike snarled low in his throat, his unseeing eyes flashing an angry
amber, but the younger vampire was obviously unimpressed.

"Right, and now you’ll order me to stand still so you can feel my face
before you take a swing at me."

The other minions beside him took a quick step back as Willow’s human
face slid away, and she took a step forward.

"The vampire who turned you instead of dropping your drained carcass
was obviously as big a bloody fool as you are," she growled as she
hooked her hand around the fledgling’s throat. "Would you prefer to beg
for your miserable existence, or should we forgo the formalities and
just fetch the dust pan?"

The vampire snarled and wrapped his hand around the wrist at his
throat. Willow’s free hand whipped around, connecting solidly against
the minion’s jaw, and he staggered backward. She reached out and
grabbed hold of his arm before he landed on the floor. He cried out and
sank to his knees as the redhead twisted his arm in a vice-like grip,
and Spike chuckled as he heard the unmistakable sound of snapping bone.

"Joseph," she spoke, her voice dangerously even, as the minion
continued to writhe in her grasp.

Darnell pulled a stake from his pocket and tossed it to her.

"I’m sorry!" the minion wailed as she deftly caught the stake and
positioned it over his heart.

"I couldn’t agree more," she remarked caustically, her lips curled into
a heartless sneer, before she shoved the stake into his chest. Tossing
the weapon back to Darnell, she looked around at the remaining minions,
"Any other objections?"

The vampires shook their heads emphatically, and she nodded and
returned to stand by her sire’s side. Spike’s arm snaked around her,
and he bent to place a kiss on her hair. Willow turned her head and
took it on the lips.

"I think the boys are ready now, Master," the grin on her face crept
into her voice.

"I’ll bet they are," he chuckled and slid his arm down to find her
hand. "Darnell, there are things on that list that Richard doesn’t
have. Go with him to the hospital, and pick up whatever it is that he
needs. Lie, steal, drain someone if you have to. Just get it. We’ll
take
the boys to the watcher’s place. Meet us there."
*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*
Willow and Spike and three other minions stepped through the front door
of the watcher’s house, leaving a dozen more of Spike’s boys out in the
yard to await further orders. Upon hearing them enter, Giles descended
the staircase and exchanged wary glances with the unfamiliar vampires.

"I invited them in," Ceara spoke from the living room entryway. "Was I
wrong?"

"No," he shook his head and smiled wearily over at her before turning
his gaze to the tallest of the three vampires standing just behind
Willow. "I did say we may need reinforcements. Best to have some of
them in here with us. We can trust them?"

The minion's dark eyes met the watcher’s unwavering stare as he spoke
with the faintest hint of amusement, "I think you’ll find you’ll have
no arguments from any of us."

Spike laughed softly, and Giles looked curiously down at the vampires.
Deciding not to press the issue, the watcher simply turned and gestured
for all of them to follow him up to the second story.

"Wait here," Willow spoke over her shoulder to the minions as she
gripped Spike's hand to lead him up the stairs. "I'll call you when we
need you."

Giles stopped several feet away from a closed bedroom door and spoke
softly to Willow, "Darnell and Richard--

She nodded, "They went to the hospital to get what you need. They
should be here any--"

"I’ll get it," Will grinned as someone pounded on the front door.

In a moment, she returned, trailed closely by Joseph and Richard. Giles
took the black satchel from Richard and quickly checked its contents.

"How many people did you have to kill to get that stuff?" Ceara
wondered.

"None," Darnell answered. "As it happened, the nurse working reception
is a--friend of mine. Gorgeous little thing, she is. She asked me to
turn her once."

Giles’ mouth dropped open, and Emily snarled jealously, "Stupid bitch.
You’re mine!"

"Vampires don’t love," Joseph grinned pointedly down at her before
placing a hard smack on her lips that left the young vampire in a
bewildered daze.

"Yes, well," Giles spoke over Willow’s amused giggle. "Perhaps we
should--get to this."

"What exactly do we have to do?" Angel asked.

"It’s all rather unpleasant, I’m afraid," Giles answered. "Even after
these demons come for Christina, we can’t fight them if we can’t see
them. If we’re going to defeat them, we have to force them to take on
their physical forms. Their target is, ultimately, the future slayer.
Using that knowledge and the information from their previous attack on
Silver’s mother, we’ve altered a spell which will force them to show
themselves. The ingredients are--unordinary--to say the least."

"Unordinary, but you have them?" Will inquired.

"We will," the watcher nodded as he handed the satchel back to Richard.
"We need the blood of the present slayer--"

"I can do that," Ceara offered without hesitation.

"And amniotic fluid from the future slayer’s mother," he continued.

The gang stared at him, stunned into silence, until Angel finally found
his voice, "Is Christina aware of this?"

"She is," Giles nodded and looked over at Richard. "Can you do this?"

"It wasn’t my area of practice when I was human," the tall, dark-haired
vampire responded. "But I’ll manage."

"Right then," Giles turned and took a steadying breath as he moved
toward the bedroom and reached for the doorknob.

The slayer stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, "Giles, are you
sure you want to be there when--"

"I promised Christina I’d be right beside her, and I meant it. I
wouldn’t be anywhere else," he answered decisively. "I think it might
be best to have one of Richard’s--Masters--present, as well."

Willow swallowed hard and peered up at her mate, whose pale complexion
suddenly looked almost gray.

She squeezed his hand and gave him a peck on the cheek, "I’ll go."

Angel waited until Willow, Ceara, and Richard had followed Giles into
the bedroom and closed the door before he turned to Spike, chiding him
with good-natured humor, "Some fearless leader you turned out to be.
You can’t even see!"

"So bloody what? I can hear perfectly well! And--and--oh, shut up," he
snapped, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the rest of the gang.
 
 
 

Giles opened the door, his face drained of color, and motioned for the
group in the hallway to come into the bedroom. Christina turned her
head and gave them a small, uncertain smile, and Giles moved back over
to her and squeezed her hand. A pair of furry grey ears appeared from
around the doorway, and Trouble surveyed the gathering with curious
interest before padding across the plush carpet. Christina let out a
soft squeal of surprise as the dog leapt off of the floor, sailed over
her body, and landed beside her with fluid ease. He sprawled out and
rested his muzzle on the woman’s tummy.

"How did that mutt get in here?" Giles growled in exasperation.

"He followed me from the mansion," Darnell explained. "But I left him
outside with the boys."

"And I left the patio door open," Ceara confessed sheepishly.

"Well, get him out of here!" Giles ordered angrily. "Now!"

Christina, whose fingers had found their way into the thick fur around
the dog’s neck, spoke quietly, "No, I don’t mind. Let him stay,
Rupert."

Giles’ eyes softened as they shifted to her. The animal’s presence,
the absent-minded motion of her fingers combing through his luxurious
fur, seemed to have a calming effect, and he smiled as the tension that
had plagued his lover began to ease from her body. A little smile
tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he bent down and placed a kiss
on her forehead.

"So, now we wait?" Ceara asked the watcher, bringing their focus back
to the matter at hand.

"Now we wait," he nodded.

"For how long?" Will wondered as she studied the few ingredients which
Giles had laid out on the dresser in preparation for the spell. "I
mean, do we just get this stuff ready and hope those demons show up
before everything goes moldy?"

Giles grimaced slightly and looked over at Willow, "Actually, I was
hoping Mathala could help us with that. What do you think?"

The vampire shrugged, "She won’t know exactly what they’re planning,
but she might be able to track their movements, tell us where they are.
She’s done that sort of thing before."

"Well, give her a shout, then," Christina suggested with a crooked
smile.

An unprepared Richard jumped as Willow called out for the demon, who
dutifully appeared at the foot of the bed. He cocked his head with open
interest as Willow spoke to the odd-looking creature.

"Mathala, can you tell us--"

"Yes," the little demon nodded. "Not far away. They’re--"

The redhead looked first startled, then disgruntled, and she folded her
arms over her chest and glared down her, "Mathala, have you been
listening in?"

"I’m sorry, Master," the demon whispered and averted her eyes. "I was
worried for you, and I--"

"Never mind," Willow smiled reassuringly. "Just don’t make a habit of
it."

"No, Master," she promptly agreed.

"All right. What are these three demons up to?"

Mathala gave her a good once-over then answered, "Not much taller than
you."

"Here we go," William groaned softly and shook his head.

"No, no. Where are they?" Willow tried again.

"In Sunnydale, Master," Mathala’s voice registered surprise at the
obvious question.

"Yeah, I knew that," the redhead grinned. "Where in Sunnydale?"

Mathala managed a little shrug, "They’re moving. In this direction."

"They’re on their way here? Now?" she asked.

"Yes, Master."

"Mathala, is there anything we need to know about how to destroy them?"
Giles asked. "I didn’t find anything in my research that indicated any
special method."

The little demon looked to her Master, who nodded for her to answer the
man, "You must make them show themselves."

The redhead cocked an eyebrow and waved a hand toward the supplies laid
out on the dresser, "That’s what we’re doing. I thought you were
listening in."

"I was. I just didn’t like to say so," Mathala lowered her eyes once
again.

"And once they’ve shown themselves. Then what?" Christina asked her.

"After that's accomplished, destroying them should be relatively
simple. Any weapon will do," the demon responded. "The demons have
allied themselves to one another. They’ve merged their powers. This is
not unprecedented, but it is unusual. By combining their powers,
they’ve greatly weakened themselves on an individual basis. It may not
even be possible for them to show themselves as three separate
demons."

"The three demons may appear as one entity?" Giles inquired.

"That’s correct," she answered. "But this need not alarm you. Because
of the power required for them to remain in a merged union, their
physical strength has been greatly reduced. The greater difficulty will
be in forcing them to show themselves to you at all. They will fight it
because they understand how vulnerable they will be to you. Just the
effort of taking on corporeal form will be tantamount to their
destruction. They are well aware of this."

"When did she become so lucid?" Will whispered to Ceara after listening
to the demon’s clear explanation.

Mathala’s voice sounded touchingly sad, and she kept her eyes on Willow
as she answered the vampire's twin, "Since they threatened my Master.
She would die for the loss of her mate. I would not desire to be
without her."

An unneeded breath caught in Willow's throat, and she placed a gentle
hand on the demon’s shoulder, "We won’t die. Thank you, Mathala."

The room breathed a collective sigh of relief as Willow released
Mathala. Giles carried the dry ingredients and a small white bowl to
the night stand beside the bed. Willow scooped up two vials, one
containing the blood that Richard had drawn from a vein in the slayer’s
arm, the other containing amniotic fluid, and set them down next to the
other ingredients. Giles arranged them carefully while Willow crossed
the room to open wide the window.

"What are you doing?" the watcher frowned.

"Just a precaution. The last time I was involved in a fight in a
bedroom, the window was one of the casualties," she reminded him. "I
figured you’d prefer this one intact."

"Ah, yes," he nodded. "Good thinking."

"Better tell the boys to come up, too," she decided and left the room
to fetch them from where they had been waiting at the bottom of the
stairs.

"You’ve brought some of Spike’s minions into the house? Is that wise?"
Christina asked uneasily.

"Weakened or not, we’re still dealing with three demons. We may need
them," Giles told her. "We can uninvite them when this is over."

A prickling sensation ran along Spike’s skin, and he called out,
"Ducks? You coming?"

"Yup," she answered as she lead the minions through the open door. The
temperature in the room had dropped noticeably, and the curtains
ruffled at the open window. "I feel them, too, baby."

The last vampire to enter stopped in his footsteps and growled
threateningly as his eyes caught sight of Ceara. Willow whirled around
and clamped her hand around his throat and curled her lips back enough
to show the tips of two pearly-white fangs as she slammed the vampire’s
back into the doorpost.

"We’re on the same side, and I don’t give a bloody damn whether you
like it or not," she snarled at the minion. "You focus on what you’re
here to do, or I’ll your tear your throat out here and now.
Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," he rasped around his constricted larynx.

"Right," she nodded, releasing him, and turned toward Emily. "You help
Will and Giles with the spell. Do whatever it takes to keep those
demons away from them. Richard, by Christina. Don’t take your eyes off
of her."

The little vampire moved over to her sire, "Spike, I love you--"

"But I’m pretty much helpless," he finished for her, the words grating
in his throat.

She leaned closer to him and brushed her lips over his cheek as she
repeated softly, "I love you."

He wrapped an arm around her and hugged her tight to him, "You’re right
on the mark, baby. Do what you have to."

She kissed him once and flashed a quick look at William as an icy gust
of wind blasted through the room, and a shimmer of light appeared near
the side of the bed where Angel and Ceara were waiting. Willow drew
away from Spike and went quickly to join them.

"William," Spike said, unsure of where his double was standing.

"Right here," he answered from behind Spike’s shoulder.

He lowered his voice, "Watch out for her, since I can’t?"

"You’ve got it," he answered immediately.
 
 
 
 

The icy wind all but blew the curtains off of the window as it blasted
its way across the room. Christina’s hand dropped away from the dog as
Trouble rose on all fours on the bed, the hair on his neck standing on
end and a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat. Giles snatched
a sheet of paper from his pocket and laid it on the night stand,
tucking one corner under the telephone to prevent the list from blowing
away.

"Will, add the ingredients, in that order," he said to the redhead
standing beside him. "Christina and I know the words."

"Right," she nodded.

Christina grasped at Giles’ arm as he sat down on the edge of the bed,
and he held her tight as the room suddenly exploded in a dazzlingly
bright light. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head in his
shoulder and forced her mind to concentrate only on the words of the
spell while Will emptied the ingredients in rapid succession into the
bowl. Their voices were obliterated by the sound of the wind that
whipped through the spacious bedroom.

Willow’s head tilted upward as the light began to coalesce near the
ceiling above the bed, and she shouted, "Richard! On her. Now."

The tall vampire scrambled across the bed, and he straddled Christina’s
legs. His eyes met Giles’ briefly before he shoved the watcher closer
to Christina, jarring their bodies together and shielding them as best
he could with his own. The light spiraled above them like a crazed,
horizontal version of a tornado. Trouble, still standing on top of the
bed, tried to lunge upward, his jaws snapping angrily. A deafening
crack, not unlike thunder, resounded through the room. Simultaneously,
Richard felt a piercing hot stab through the center of his back. He
growled in anguish but managed to maintain his position, covering
the two humans who had not ceased their chanting. At the same instant,
Trouble was lifted off of the bed and flung to the floor. The minion
beside Will was hurled backwards through the open doorway, where he
collided with the corridor wall, and Will was blasted off of her feet
and flung against the dresser across the room.

"Bloody hell!" Willow shouted and moved quickly toward the bed, toward
the murderous light that was now descending to the floor.

Ceara’s arm snapped out and hauled her backward, "We can’t do anything
until we can see them, Willow!"

William was on his knees beside Will as she struggled to shake the
buzzing from her brain. He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her
back to the night stand, and she knelt in front of it and quickly
dumped in first the blood, then the fluid. Another jarring boom shook
the walls of the bedroom, and Willow grabbed for the dagger that was
hanging at her hip as the glaring white light began to transform itself
into a miasmic shape that seemed to curl in around itself like vapor
rising up off a body of water. As the single form that housed the three
demons began to solidify, the wind in the room suddenly lessened, then
died altogether. Richard moaned in relief as the heat that was searing
his back vanished.

Ceara leapt at the demons a split-second too soon, just before their
unified form became truly physical, and found herself being flung back,
hard, against Angel, who stumbled to keep himself on his feet. Willow
gripped the dagger in her hand and lunged at the now tangible form. The
demon whirled around, and the redhead yelped as its razor-sharp claws
tore into her right arm, shredding the fabric of her shirt and leaving
long, bloody gashes in her flesh. The wounds burned unbearably, the
unnatural heat racing from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers, and
she groaned in pain as the dagger slipped from her hand to the floor.
With a cruel smile of satisfaction, the demon kicked the knife far
under the bed and took a step toward Willow as she backed away.

"Willow!" Spike shouted, unable to see her but sensing the pain that
wracked his childe’s body.

Angel was immediately on the blonde vampire, wrapping an arm around his
shoulders and forcefully hauling him backwards as Spike struggled to
break free and run to his mate.

"Spike, you can’t!" the darker vampire shouted.

The slayer latched onto the demon's arm and yanked it around. A massive
arm blocked her fist, and she pivoted and kicked, landing a solid boot
in the demon’s chest. His hand latched around her ankle, and he lifted
her and threw her backward. She slammed into the wall beside the bed
and angrily swiped at a trickle of blood oozing from an open gash on
her temple as she struggled to get back onto her feet. The demon
chuckled and fixed blood-red eyes on the woman huddled against Giles on
the bed.

"Trouble!" Willow shouted. "The knife. Joseph."

The dog shot under the bed, wrapped his teeth around the curved handle
of the dagger, and nearly knocked Darnell off of his feet as he
clambered back out from under and barreled into the vampire. The demon
snarled as Darnell grabbed the knife away from the dog and flung it,
end over end, through the air.

"Willow! No!" William shouted as the demon suddenly ducked, and the
dagger flew beyond him on a direct path to the redhead.

The little vampire, who had had more than enough, shifted into game
face, her amber eyes glowing in enraged concentration. Her hand shot
out and plucked the knife out of the air, and she threw herself at the
demon, crooked an arm around the base of its thick neck, and sliced
open its throat. A gurgling sound rose from its lungs, and it struggled
violently in her grasp. With one final burst of strength, it heaved
backward, propelling Willow along with itself, toward the open bedroom
window. From William’s side, Will shrieked in horror as her twin
desperately reached out for the sill, the casing, anything with which
to keep herself from being sent tumbling out onto the hard ground
below.

Trouble let out a deafening bark and raced around the foot of the bed.
He sank his teeth into the side of her pant leg and pulled with every
ounce of strength he possessed in his substantial body. Willow heard
fabric tearing and felt herself being jerked violently sideways, and
she latched onto the demon’s arm and hurled it through the window even
as she was being hauled out of the way. Richard scramble off of the
bed, and Giles and Christina leapt up and followed Will and William to
the open window, where Willow was leaning out, gazing down at the sight
below them. The demon’s still form was lying on the ground, its limbs
twisted into the awkward contortions of death.

"Poetic, in a way," Willow murmured softly as her mind flashed back to
a similar scene, several years ago, of a dark-haired young slayer who
had met a similar, though unhappier and more tragic, death.

"Silver?" Christina guessed, looking up at Giles.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Does it help? Knowing that it wasn’t really her fault, after all?"

He smiled a sad smile, "It does. It helps even more to know it won’t
happen this time."

He laid a gentle hand on her stomach, and she swallowed and placed her
smaller hand over his. He put an arm around her shoulder and coaxed her
back toward the bed as, below them, the physical form of the dead
creature began to glow blue-white before transforming completely into a
spiral of light that spun faster and faster until it vanished in a
final burst. Willow turned toward Spike as he joined her at the window.

Her voice quivered slightly as she looked up at him, "Spike? Can you--"

He grinned and brushed his fingers through her long red hair, "You’re
beautiful, baby."

Her lips parted in a wide smile, and she flung her arms around him and
crushed her lips to his. He chuckled and indulged in the sweetness of
her mouth for a long moment before drawing away. Trouble, who was more
than a little put out at being ignored, attempted to insert himself
between the two vampires’ legs. Willow giggled and knelt down to hug
the
dog, cooing words of praise against his fur.

"You’re a hero," she told him.

"You didn’t do so badly yourself," Darnell grinned at her.

She stood up and slipped her hand into Spike’s, "Well, he made me mad.
Screwing with people I care about."

"Shall I round up the boys and send them off, Master?" Richard
suggested.

Willow looked up at Spike, and he grinned and shook his head, "He was
talking to you, pet."

"Oh," she responded. "Oh! Yeah. Please do, Richard. And, thanks."

"My privilege," he smiled and herded the other minions out of the room.

"How are you feeling?" Ceara asked Christina.

"I’m fine," she answered. "But you--"

"It’s nothing," the slayer assured her, brushing her fingers over the
wound on her head.

"Still," Angel interrupted, taking her hand and pulling it away from
the gash. "We should get you home and cleaned up."

"That’ll be fun," she grinned.

"I believe Willow could use a bit of looking after, as well," Joseph
spoke as he eyed her bleeding arm.

"Before you all go, could you just--do that uninvite spell?" Christina
requested wearily as the gang began to move toward the door. "Forgive
me, but the only vampires I want in my house are you lot."

"Forgiven," Angel grinned and held open the door for the others. "We’ll
take care of it before we leave."

"Thank you. Oh, and Willow--" she called out just as the redhead
disappeared into the hallway.

The rest of the gang waited in the corridor as she peeked back around
the door, ignoring the furry muzzle that was also peeking right
alongside her, "Yes?"

"Trouble is welcome here, anytime," Christina smiled, and Willow’s face
lit up in delight.

Giles’ jaw clenched in dismay, and he slapped a hand to his forehead,
"Christina! Think what you're saying, love! That--that--"

"Dog," she emphasized the word, "helped save our baby."

"Well, yes," he admitted reluctantly. "But--"

She turned appealing eyes on him, "But nothing, Rupert. We could have
lost more tonight than either one of us could have endured. He’s
welcome here, isn’t he? Please?"

Her eyes held his, and he groaned softly and nodded, "All right."

"Thanks!" Willow grinned as she and the dog popped out of sight once
again.

Giles grimaced as Ceara’s astonished voice drifted along the corridor,
"He agreed? He actually said yes?"

"He’s whipped," Will pronounced with a giggle.

"I am NOT whipped!" the watcher shouted out, causing Christina to jump
in surprise. "Oh, love. I’m sorry! Are you all right? I didn’t mean
to--"

"Oh, yeah," William squeezed Will’s hand and smirked as he followed the
others down the stairs. "He’s definitely whipped."

End 10/10

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