Two days later, At Spike and Willow’s apartment

Spike looked over at his redheaded lover. “Are you gonna be okay pet? I can cover if you’re still too sore to go to the watcher’s.”

“I’ll get there. I’m just stiff after the whipping. And sore, don’t forget sore. But I’m not too sore.”

Spike sighed. “If that’s what you want pet.”

“Pet does.” Willow smiled shyly at Spike as she said it. Since the incredibly intense session two days before, their relationship had undergone another paradigm shift. She realised, during that session, she had moved from being a ‘submissive’ to being a ‘slave’. What amazed her most of all was that she didn’t feel wigged. In fact she felt calm, as if it was what she was always meant to do. Her knowledge had effected her profoundly. Things that had terrified and repelled her beforehand, she now knew she would accept, if not enjoy, if Spike needed or desired them.

She scooted over to the couch and sat at Spike’s feet. She just automatically went there now. It was part of the change she was going through. She felt more comfortable when she voluntarily placed herself in a submissive position whenever she was with him. She lay her head on Spike’s thigh and looked up at him, smiling, as she said, “I’d just love to stay here forever. Sitting like this.”

Spike chuckled. “That’d work pet, it’d be real nice, ‘til dinner time anyway.” He grinned down at Willow, and leant forward to gently kiss the crown of her head. “Anyway pet, are y’ready to see the watcher and ‘is pals?”

The little redhead looked up, amused. “What’s with the East Enders accent Spike?”

“Er … listen ducks, I have to get me tricks and current slang from somewhere, now don’t I? After all, ” he continued, shifting back to his birth accent, “if I talked like this all the time, no-one would even consider me The Big Not-Very-Nice, let alone The Big Bad now would they?”

Willow looked for a moment at him, and then began to giggle. The giggling grew into a laugh and she turned in towards her lover, stretched up and kissed his lips softly, for, as much as anything, to stop herself from laughing. “I dunno about that, but that accent, your ‘proper’ one, makes me The Very Horny.”

Spike sighed once again. “Baby, we don’t have time. We have to be at Giles in an hour. And it’s a ten minute drive.” He looked at her a moment and grinned as he added a single word. “Brat.”

“I know,” chirped Willow happily, “but I’m your brat.”

*                       *                       *                       *

For a change, Willow noted, they were the first people to arrive. She was happy about that because she could sit slowly and gingerly, and not worry about anyone--except possibly Giles--noticing her slowness of movement. {I have to remember not to move if I can avoid it}, she thought to herself. Leaning cautiously over the side of the chair, she started to drag out her laptop from her carry bag.

Spike noticed her difficulties, and murmured “Let me get that for you pet.” As he made the offer, he acted, bending down to draw the laptop out and also running the power cable to the nearest socket. “D’ya need anything else luv?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Willow smiled a little as she spoke. Spike nodded and went into the kitchen, and she could hear him clattering around as he began to prepare himself some blood, and, she hoped, coffee for her. Aware of her inability to turn easily she waited patiently. Spike returned with two mugs, sat on the arm of her chair and handed one of the mugs to her.

Willow smiled her thanks as she tugged at the roll of the turtleneck sweater she wore. Since becoming involved with Spike, her clothing choices had altered somewhat, and the sweater was a reversion to what she already thought of as ‘fuzzy Willow’. {Still,} she thought, {until Spike and I can talk them about the bite, they’ll be better off not knowing.}

Spike grinned down as he settled comfortably on the chair arm. He looked over as Giles returned into the lounge, books in each hand. He paused a moment, then licked his lips and asked “So Ripper, d’ya catch anything of the Test?”

Willow’s eyes rolled. She adored Spike, but could simply not understand the addiction both he and Giles had for British sports, and cricket in particular. As the two Englishmen began to talk earnestly about the current game, she recalled a rambling discussion that Giles and Spike had one night and began to smile as she recalled how heated it became at times. She was brought from her reverie with something of a jolt as the door slammed and Xander’s voice cut through her thoughts like a laser.

“Hi peoples, we’re here!” Xander’s loud greeting shook all three. Willow was jolted from her thoughts while Spike and Giles conversation also came to a screaming halt. “What?” Xander asked defensively as he saw the looks he was receiving. Anya was beside him, as usual, and looked as confused as Xander.

Willow responded quickest. “ Nothing, Xander. You just surprised us, Spike and Giles were talking, and I was thinking. Don’t worry about it,” she smiled encouragingly at him.

“Ah, er, okay then Wills. How come you weren’t talking with them?”

“Because I don’t speak that language. I don’t think you do either, and you’re a man.”

“Men have a secret language? How come I never discovered that when I was a vengeance demon?” Anya had become confused by Willow’s comment, and suddenly began to worry. “You don’t talk to other men in a secret language do you, Xander?”

Willow and Xander both looked at Anya, utterly confused by her meandering commentary. “What hon?” Xander managed to get in first.

“Why do men have a secret language? Willow just said they did.”

Willow’s laughter pealed through the room, startling Spike and Giles from their intense discussion. “What pet?” Spike asked.

“Oh, nothing special. Just some confusion here.” She smiled back at him.

Turning back to Anya, she looked at her drew a breath and attempted to explain. “I’m sorry Anya, it was my fault. I guess I should try and remember that you don’t understand all the … attitudes of our culture. What I meant was that, in general, men seem far more interested in sports than women.” As she paused to draw breath, Anya interrupted.

“I’ve noticed that. Why is it?”

“Who can say, culture, society, genetics? All I was doing when I mentioned a ‘secret language’ was drawing an allusion. I was saying that Spike and Giles were talking about sports, and I wasn’t interested.”

“Oh. So men don’t have a real secret language?” Anya brightened up at that thought.

The door suddenly shot open and Cordelia ran in, breathless. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she gasped. “But I got caught up in a book.” She blushed at the highly unusual admission. “I brought it with me, because … well because there’s something in it you should read.”

Giles looked over at the breathless brunette. “What? What book?”

“This one!” Cordelia answered brightly as she dragged a battered and dog-eared paperback with a hideously garish cover out and waved it at them.

“Cordelia, calm down. Why don’t you show me the book?” Giles voice of reason penetrated Cordelia’s excitement and she reluctantly handed over the book.

Giles glanced at the cover and flipped the book open. His eyes still locked on the book he asked, “Why are you reading this Cordelia? The Brahan Seer is quite well known. At least back in England.”

“Well,” Cordelia began, and then she looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, I really don’t know much about visions and prophecies, except that they give me migraines of course, so I went hunting for some books to get me started.”

“Very commendable of you Cordelia. I’m pleased to see that you aren’t allowing your brain to go to waste now you’ve finished school. But why didn’t you just come to me?”

Cordelia blushed. “Well, it’s that …” she hesitated, obviously re-ordering her thoughts before continuing. “I didn’t want to try and read old musty books written in really old language. I wanted something I could understand easily.”

Giles looked up, confused by her comment. “This is fascinating. I know it says ‘The Complete Prophecies of the Brahan Seer’ but I really didn’t expect to see any prophecies I hadn’t seen before.”

“Look at page seventy-four Giles.” Cordelia’s excitement began to be contagious.

Giles quickly read the page, remarking “I hadn’t heard this before. Listen to this:

There shall, in the far distant future, be a time when demons and men will war, one upon the other. And man shall war with man; demon with demon. In this, there will be many attempts to end all that is and ever shall be. I know not the outcome of these wars, and glad am I shall be safely dead ‘ere they start.
 

There shall be manifold signs of the onset of these wars, the first shall be that one becomes two, and of the two, the one shall be blonde and virtuous, the other dark and wanton. Next, good shall lie with evil, red with white. And the good, to avoid absolute terror, will appear to bend to that evil, but from it only good shall come. The intent of the good will turn upon itself, as will the intent of evil.
 

The final sign that you shall receive will be when that which is dead will die once more, and then return to join these great battles as a force of darkness like no other. As above, so is it below. That which the darkness created for evil shall work to balance the forces of both man and demon, both dark and light. And thus the world may be preserved.”
 

They all looked at one another for a moment, stunned. Most of the prophecy was quite clear and unambiguous. “Well,” Giles began, “it’s obvious that the first ‘sign’ is the calling of Kendra, and then Faith, I think the reference to the ‘dark and wanton’ indicates Faith. After all, Kendra was a quite charming and reticent young lady.”

Cordelia looked up, “Kendra? Reticent? Who stole your memory Giles?”

“Well, the next sentence obviously relates to Willow and Spike. Red and White … their hair. Good and Evil, their personalities. What I don’t understand however, is the reference to absolute terror. Willow?”

“Giles, you know what I’m phobic about. I can’t really see frogs threatening me that badly can you?”

“Er, well, no, not really.” He grinned at Willow, smiling as he took his glasses off to clean them. “But is there anything else which you truly fear?”

“No, just the basic phobias. Frogs and spiders mainly, oh, and stage fright.” Willow grinned as she answered him.

“Hmmmmmm. Well, lets look at the next part. If there wasn’t all the additional … returning from the dead, then I’d say they were talking about a vampire. But a vampire only ‘dies’ twice. When the soul leaves, and when the demon is dusted. Any ideas Spike?” Giles was in full research mode by now.

“Er … No. Although …” Spike drifted off in thought.

Giles was about to ask Spike what he meant when Willow interrupted. “No Giles, he’s trying to remember something. Let him try to get there.”

Giles nodded in response to Willow’s advice. “The tenor of the whole text,” he continued, “is fascinating. It seems to imply …” Giles also lapsed into silence as he thought.

“Implies what G-man?” Xander spoke with a frustration that almost everyone felt.

Giles looked up, his eyes still slightly unfocused. “Pardon?”

“The prophecy. What does it mean?” Xander pursued the question.

“Oh. It seems to suggest that there will be both people and demons on both sides of any final conflict. I wonder why the Watcher’s Council have never examined this prophecy?”

“How about because the Council is a collection of living fossils who never believe anything they don’t want to believe?” Cordelia asked acerbically.

“May I look, Giles?” Willow asked politely.

The watcher smiled and passed her the book. “Feel free.”

Willow concentrated, reading slowly. Surprisingly, her lips moved as she went through the passage. She then looked up. “Giles, I think you may have … mistaken how complex this is. I think there are at least three groups in this war.”

Giles looked at her, confused. “Three?”

Willow nodded. “If you think about it, you’ll see that man wars upon man, demon upon demon and upon each other. One thing I’ve learned while we’ve been reading prophecies is that not only the words, but the structure have meaning. To me it suggests a group of humans, a group of demons and a mixed group. Sorta like we are. Look at us, a Vampire, a Witch, a Seer, and ex-demon and two ‘normal’ humans. You don’t get much more mixed than that.”

Giles chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. The Council would never under …” He trailed off, as he realised something. “Anya, get the phone, quick! Xander, have you spoken to Buffy at all?” His voice took on the tones of command, Anya immediately got him the cordless phone, as Xander shook his head blankly.

“No G-man. I sort of assumed she’d ring when she was ready.”

Giles took the phone, with a curt nod. The unnatural lack of courtesy, combined with his lack of comment to Xander about the G-man reference scared Willow. She could see that Giles was very worried indeed. As he dialled, she began to ask him why he was so worried. “Giles, what’s …” Willow stopped as he held a hand up.

“Hello, Quentin Travers please. It’s urgent … Pardon? … I don’t understand. He’s retired? When did this happen? Who’s the new co-adjutor of the Council? … Dr Peter Maugham! Never mind. No, it was urgent but personal. Good-bye.”

“Bloody Hell!” Giles curse matched the looks of horror on the faces of all the others.

“Maugham! That psycho? How did that happen Giles?” Willow’s questions fired off in quick succession.

“I don’t know, Willow. I can only guess that there has been some kind of internal power play. I’m quite aware that you all considered the Council to be callous in the past, but without Quentin in the chair, as it were, the Council will really become ruthless. For example, once his people are firmly established as the power in the council, I strongly suspect that a team will be sent to … deal with Spike and possibly the rest of us too. I also wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Faith is either broken out of prison or quietly killed.”

Anya looked shocked. “But … but that would unbalance everything. The Demon realms would respond in kind. Oh My God! That’s what part of the prophecy means, and it’s too late, it’s happened! All of it has!”

Giles looked over at Anya. “You’re right,” he said, and the sadness carried on his voice. “I wonder if Maugham’s group or its predecessors suppressed that prophecy?”

“I don’t mean to upset anyone, but shouldn’t we be looking at checking our plans for Holly?” Willow asked. “We’re going to have to catch her in the next few days. If we don’t the Order may make the new council’s job even easier,”

“Well,” interrupted Spike, “I used the time we had during the flap over the Mutant to approach some human contacts. They’re bad boys but don’t know about my, errrr … you know.”

“Very tiny penis?” Anya put in, sounding helpful but with a huge grin on her face as she said it.

“Charming.” Spike’s dry tone spoke volumes as it cut through the laughter rocking the others. “I meant,” he drew breath to continue, “that I have a supply of Sodium Pentothal on hand.” Somehow, Spike managed a sense of dignity, as if he was rising above the innuendo.

“Oh!” Willow brightened. “Spike and I have the perfect place to keep her while the drug does its job, a windowless cellar. We’ll need two or three days to clear it up, but other than that, it’s available.”

Spike looked over at her, and relaxed at her minute nod. “So, Friday then?” He asked.

“Let me see,” Cordelia said, “I’ll need to check my social calendar. Oh! Sorry, I don’t have one any more, it’s so full of holes it’s a social colander. Friday’s good for me!”  She finished brightly.

Spike grinned as howls of protest at the pun echoed around the room. “It’s the price you pay for being a fearless demon killer, Huntress. Trust the fearless demon here.”

Cordelia smiled, openly and happily. She felt, for the first time, a truly integral part of the group. Joining in fully with the wordplay and the little games they all played.

“Spike,” Willow’s hand reached out to touch his thigh as she spoke, “I think we’re going to need to know dosages and such for the Pentothal.” As she spoke, her hand wrapped possessively around his leg, not expressing jealousy, but rather her own innate insecurities.

“You’re right pet. You want your laptop?”

Spike took her laptop from her bag, and laid it on her lap, then connected it to Giles’ phone line without missing a beat. “See, pet, that one lesson you gave me did help!”

Willow smiled as she began her search. “I’m going to try and find the data on open pages if I possibly can. It’ll leave a lot less in terms of an electronic trail if I can. Now, the rest of you go make drinks or get munchies, I want to concentrate.” Willow was quite unaware of the assertiveness that her voice took on. She was already thinking about and hunting the data.

As the rest of the Scoobyless gang went into Giles’ rather small galley kitchen, squeezing past one another as they sought their own refreshments, Willow squealed. “Got it! Got it!”

As one, they rushed out to see. “Look,” Willow almost shouted. “Everything we need, dosage by weight, duration, everything!”

“Excellent. So, Friday it is,” Giles said calmly.
 

Part 32  It Takes a Thief

Three days later, Friday night, outside the Bronze

Giles pressed the broadcast button on his handheld radio and asked in a breathy whisper, “Is everyone ready?”

“For God’s sake watcher, stop bloody fiddling with that thing!” Spike hissed. “We’re as ready as we’re ever going to be. We have a good plan and the ability to do it right. Now stop making the kids nervous.”

“No nervousness here.” Willow said sotto voce.

Giles looked at the blond vampire, his face showed a combination of embarrassment and hurt at the comments. “True, I suppose,” he said quietly. “I just can’t help worrying though. This is a little out of the ordinary for me.”

Spike nodded. “I hate the bloody waiting mate. The tension just builds up further and further. ‘Course, the release is good, when it … arrives.”

Giles smiled tiredly. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate unpunctuality?” He asked Spike and Willow.

“Frequently Giles,” Willow’s voice carried the hint of a chuckle as she continued. “How rude of her to be late for her own abduction. We’ll just have to whip some manners into her after we finish, won’t we?”

Giles looked at the redhead, her pert comment surprising him. Then, just for a moment, he paused, and then looked directly at Spike. “What’s she saying?” The Ripper accent came out in all of its North London glory as he asked.

Spike looked up, and breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the purr of the limousine’s engine. “We’re on people, it’s showtime.”

*                       *                       *                       *

They were all in position and fully aware of what was needed. Willow had cast the glamour over Anya and Xander before they arrived outside the Bronze, and they were inconspicuously waiting close to where the limousine would stop. Spike, Willow and Giles were positioned nearby, close enough to engage the bodyguards as soon as the empath demon had started to search for Anya and Xander. Cordelia was on the other side of Xander and Anya, ready to lure Holly away from the centre of events and into a discreet alley where she could hold her at crossbow point until the others arrived.

The limousine pulled in quietly and the Empath demon left the driver’s seat, coming around to open the kerbside rear door for Holly and the rest of the entourage. As he did so, he looked up, sensing someone’s desire to see Holly. He scanned the crowd, but failed to spot the person.{Probably a contract in the offing, or maybe just one of her ditzy ex-school friends,} he thought.

Two of the bodyguards, one human, the other a vampire got out and moved to either side of the car, with Holly following immediately behind them. The empath detected a surge as she appeared. {Okay, someone definitely wants to talk,} went through his mind. The remaining two bodyguards followed Holly out of the car and took positions either side and behind her, so Holly was in the centre of a stationary square.

“Madam,” the chauffeur said in a low voice, “there’s someone in the crowd seeking an interview. Shall I investigate?”

Holly nodded and the empath moved off, weaving through the members of the crowd easily. She looked left and right, “Inside boys?” she said. As the group began to move, Willow threw a crystal. The word of activation murmured from her lips almost as the tiny faceted gem left her hand. The barrier worked, unfortunately however, the planning had not taken account of a possibility where the humans and vampires were intermixed, and so only a single human was trapped by it. The two vampires and the human who avoided the magical snare surged towards the perceived point of danger.

“Awwwww shit!” Spike swore as he closed toward the closest vampire, making sure that in doing so he wasn’t leaving Willow vulnerable. Giles snarled as he headed toward the human, closing the range as quickly as possible.

Willow began to chant another barrier spell, then changed her mind, and used a transmogrification crystal on the human. Suddenly a large dark brown cockroach replaced the enraged man who was running towards her and her friends with mayhem in his eyes. Fully aware of the necessities, Spike reached out a foot and crushed the cockroach, and immediately doubled over, shrieking in agony, discovering the hard way that transmogrified humans were still considered human and demon-free by the chip.

As Spike went down, searing agony coursing through his brain, Giles raised his crossbow and fired. The bolt flew straight into the vampire’s heart and it spasmed briefly before dissolving into dust, showering the surrounding area with its remains.

Spike was beginning to become aware of his surroundings again, but was still incapacitated. He rolled, attempting to trip the other vampire. The attacking vampire hurdled the blond with ease and headed straight for Giles, who was frantically trying to reload.

Willow saw the problem and threw another crystal, activating it on the fly once again. The vampire looked momentarily confused after the small detonation, and then continued to charge. “Oh bugger!” Willow swore as she realised she had used a will-weakening crystal in her haste to dispose of the vampire. She drew a stake and hoped that she would get one good lunge in.

The flash had given Spike just enough time to struggle to his feet, however, and he staggered towards the vampire from behind.

As this was happening, Cordelia sneaked up and hissed into Holly’s ear. “Holly, this way. You’ll be safe.”

Holly looked up and gasped. “Cordelia? I thought you’d moved to LA!”

“Long story. Hide now.” Cordelia responded, taking Holly by the hand. Cordelia began to move, leading Holly toward the alley with the DeSoto hidden in it.

“What’s happening? What’s going on? Why are those people attacking me?” Holly would not stay silent.

“For God’s sake Holly, shut up and let’s hide before you get us both killed!” She pushed Holly into the alley as she spoke and then directed her towards the far end.

As she did so, Willow received the vampire’s charge and went down under it. However, before the vampire could really hurt her, Spike staked him from behind. He reached an arm down to lift Willow up. “C’mon pet, let’s get out of here,” he said, dusting her off.

Giles got the radio out again and spoke into it. “Anya, Xander. Come back now.”

*                       *                       *                       *

As the group concentrated in the area of the car, Holy began to look nervous. “Cordelia, why are all these people here … Oh my God!” She looked at Cordelia, a sense of betrayal painted on her face.

“You helped?”

Cordelia simply nodded. “Get in the car. We’ll chat more when we’re all safe.”

Willow pushed Holly’s head forward and wrapped a long sheet of cloth around her eyes several times before tying it off. “If you take it off, my boyfriend gets an early lunch.” Spike growled menacingly to help convince the confused woman.

“But I can’t see!” Holly complained as soon as the blindfold was in place.

“That’s the point,” Willow said coldly. “We’re going to go and have a little chat. We’re going to start with what I should do to you for the hell you put me through in high school, and then just keep going.” Willow then lapsed into the silence that had already claimed the others.

        *                       *                       *                       *

The DeSoto pulled into the garage, the automated door shutting behind it. As Cordelia turned the engine off, people began to exit the crowded car. Spike led Holly out, one hand tightly gripping her upper arm. “This way, folks,” he said, leading them into the short passage that led to an internal door which provided direct access to the apartment.

“Home sweet home. Oh, and no-one take the bint’s blindfold off yet,” Spike said very distinctly. “I just have to open up the cellar.” A minute or so later, he called out. “Okay, we’re ready. Pet, bring the bint along and we’ll lead her down. The rest of you can follow.”

“Sure,” was Willow’s single word answer. She led Holly towards the trapdoor in the hallway floor, and positioned her carefully. Spike took hold of her feet and led the blindfolded girl carefully down the steep steps into the cellar.

Having manoeuvered Holly into the cellar they sat her down and locked her wrists behind her in a kitchen chair. The handcuffs were looped through the wooden arches at the back of the chair, guaranteeing that she would be unable to move.

Willow called out from the cellar “Okay, you can come down now. Be careful it’s very steep.”

Once the others had all negotiated the steep and slightly rickety steps, they gathered together. “What’s with all the curtains Wills?” Xander asked, curiously.

“Oh, nothing really. It just looks nicer than bare brick. And it’ll be useful now, because she won’t see anything that could identify where she was, if she ever remembers.” Willow answered easily.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?” Spike’s natural impatience asserted itself in the tone of his voice. “Ripper, would you do the honours? Y’know, link her up to the drug and stuff.”

Giles nodded and went to the small collection of medical equipment adjacent to one wall. As he did so, Spike began to speak. “All right, Holly. I want you to listen carefully. We know who employs you, who it is who provides you with bodyguards. It’s the Order of Taraka.”

“So, you know just how dead you’re going to be then, right?” Holly spat back.

“I doubt it. Y’see we’re beginning to set up some truth drugs and some spells luv. You’ll tell us more than we ever wanted to know, and you won’t be able to help yourself.”

“The Order will crush you!”

“I really doubt it ducks. Y’see when we’ve finished, we’ll wipe your memory completely of this little incident, and leave a rather curious and quite unbelievable story about you being abducted by aliens.”

Her gasp at Spike’s suggestion was enough. She was beginning to become very scared now. He could smell her fear as it flooded her system, the pheromones filling the air. “Now ducks, are you going to answer our questions nicely, or are we going to have to get nasty?”

“Do your worst, you walking corpse.”

Willow laughed coldly. “Holly, dear,” she said, making ‘dear’ sound like the vilest insult, “he may be a walking corpse, but he’s got more life in him now than you’ve ever had. Now listen to me, you bitch. You’re going to tell us everything we want to know, one way or another. Now, personally I’m hoping that the spells and drugs don’t work, because then I’ll get a chance to get my own back on you for high school, so think very carefully Holly. Because you could end up rather … unattractive if I get my way.”

Everyone else in the room looked at the petite redhead in open shock. They had never heard Willow speak so coldly or bluntly, not even in the recent past. Spike’s eyebrow raised questioningly at the redhead as Giles asked, “Willow, what on earth’s wrong?”

“This bitch not only made my life hell during high school, Giles, but now she’s trying to have both Spike and I killed. Well, no more!” She spun and delivered a savage slap across Holly’s face. “No more you cow! I won’t let you hurt me again.”

Spike pulled the enraged redhead into his arms, “Calm down pet, calm down. As far as I’m concerned, after we’re done you can cut her into inch size cubes and feed her to the pigs, but don’t damage her before we know what we need to.” He began to stroke her hair gently, soothingly and encouraging her to regain her composure.

Willow began to relax into Spike’s arms once more. “I just want to know who’s trying to kill us Spike. Please. Let’s get it over with,” she said, once more under control.

“Ripper, I think you’d better start the Pent. I don’t think Red here’s ready to work her mojo just yet.”

“Are you sure Spike? We had planned to use this as an addition to the magic, not alone. We’ve prepared it that way.”

Spike nodded. “Bloody hell, Ripper, you’re right.”

“I-I can still d-do the spells,” Willow said, stuttering slightly as she regained control of her temper. “I’ve got both locked into crystals.”

“Pet, you’re a bloody marvel!”

“Spells! What are you people gonna do to me?”

Xander chuckled evilly. He understood how Willow felt, even though he had not suffered anywhere nearly as much as she. The desire for payback, however, became overwhelming. “Well, what I’m going to do it to try and convince W-Red not to turn you into a cockroach when we’ve finished.”

“A what!” Shrieked Holly.

“A ‘roach,” Willow confirmed coldly. “Now, last chance before I use the spells, bitch. Who contracted you to kill Spike and I.”

Holly shuddered, I can’t tell you. The Order’ll kill me if I do. Don’t you people care?”

“Honestly, no, I don’t,” Willow said brutally. “It looks like you’re in trouble Holly. Either you tell us and hope the Order understands, or we will do far worse than kill you. Unless, of course, you like the idea of living your days out as a cockroach.”

Holly remained silent.

“Oh well,” Willow murmured, and activated both the truth-detection and will-weakening spells.

Spike took over, once again. “Now Holly, listen carefully. There are two spells operating on you now. One lets us know when you’re lying, and the other suppresses your own will, it makes it too difficult for you to do anything other than just make us happy. If it turns out that they aren’t enough, then we’ve also got some truth serum on hand; so, ducks, you’re fucked. Now, I know I’m a vampire, but, believe it or not, I don’t really want to hurt you. Oh, not because I don’t like it, but because it’s counter productive. If I go too far, you’ll tell me what I want to hear, just to make all the pain stop. But what I really want is the truth. Understand that ducks?”

Holly nodded, trembling.

“Now Holly, why don’t you tell me a little about the contract on Willow and I?”

She drew a breath and began, haltingly. “There … isn’t a contract … on you both. I-It’s … just on you. Willow is-isn’t meant to-to be harmed. Nor … was anyone else. The-The client was … very clear … about that.” Every word was dragged from her. The audience could sense the internal struggle she was undergoing, trying with what remnants of willpower she could summon to hold back, and the spells stopping her from doing so.

Spike nodded and said “Very good Holly,” in an encouraging tone. Now ducks, why did you approve an attack that could have killed dozens, in contravention of the client’s requirements?”

“I didn’t” Holly bristled at the suggestion. “That was that pair of idiots operating alone. They didn’t tell me what they planned. If I ever catch them, they’re toast.”

Willow laughed coldly. “You won’t. They decided to visit Fort Knox. The bullion vault to be precise.”

“What? How?”

Willow just laughed, but said only, “Just answer the questions Holly. I may even let you stay human”

Spike intervened again. “Okay Holly, as I understand it, if a client dies, so does the contract, correct?” She nodded in response and Spike continued, speaking softly. “So, who want’s me dead?”

Holly laughed bitterly. “Just about the whole demon community. You’re their Benedict Arnold.” This time there was no hesitation in her speech. She enjoyed twisting the knife like that.

“Ducks, where I come from, he’s a hero, so thanks. So, let me ask the question distinctly. Who contracted the Order to kill me?”

Holly struggled, seconds mounted as she tried to keep silent; but the spells worked too well, and eventually she gasped out a name. “Angel.”
 

Part 33  And the World Turned Upside Down

“What!”

“I find that …”

“Deadboy? Why doesn’t that …”

“The bloody …”

“Oh God! He couldn’t …”

“She’s not lying!”

Anya realised that unless someone took control, the discussion would degenerate into a shouting match. She opened her shoulder bag and took out a small whistle. She blew hard and the piercing shriek of her rape whistle cut through the cellar. “So, people. We’ll do this in an orderly manner, for a change. One person speaks at a time.” Anya found retaining the control she had wrested so blatantly was surprisingly easy. “Giles, you first.” Anya had already decided on a speaking order.

“Er, yes … well, I have to wonder if we’re dealing with Angel, or Angelus. I can easily imagine Angelus hiring the Order for something like this. Unlike Angel, he’s a bully; a fundamentally cowardly creature ...” Giles removed his glasses and began to think.

Spike interrupted Anya’s planned list of speakers. “Holly! Do you know if it’s true? Has … Angel lost his bloody soul. Again?”

The girl looked up, jolted for a moment from the depression that her betrayal of the Order, and the will-weakening spell, had plunged her. “I’ve got no idea. And I don’t care either. He wants you dead, so the Order’ll kill you. Eventually.”

“Cordy? Do you think he could? Really?” Willow asked, scared and disturbed by what Holly had said. She was still unsure whether she believed the former Prom Queen, but thought if anyone could shed some light on things, it would be Cordelia. After all, Willow reasoned, she had known Angel far more recently than any of the others.

“I don’t know Wills. Twelve months ago, I’d have said no. But … you know he sacked Wes and Gunn and I, right? Then re-hired us all. No explanations, no nothing. Well, what you don’t know is why he sacked us.” Cordelia drew a deep breath and calmed herself before she could continue. “He let Darla and Drusilla slaughter over a dozen evil lawyers.”

She looked around at the laughter. “What? Oh puh-lease. I mean really evil lawyers. Ones who represent demons and stuff like that. But they’re human, and Angel just left them all to die. Then,” she continued, warming to her task, “when Wesley and Gunn and I all complained, he sacked us. So we went into business for ourselves.” She looked around, “God I need something to drink.”

Willow nodded, murmured something under her breath and a large bottle of Coke appeared. “What?” She asked in response to the somewhat disapproving looks she received. “It’s just the teleport spell, but backwards.”

“Thanks,” Cordelia said to Willow, hoping to forestall any incipient unpleasantness. “To get back to what I was saying,” she broke off to swig directly from the bottle, then continued. “About two months later he came into our new offices, and told us we could return to our jobs if we wanted. He never said anything else about the lawyers, and there was something about him that seemed to say ‘Don’t ask’. So, thinking it all through, the Angel I saw then, and since, could very easily hire the Order.”

“Bloody Hell!” Spike cursed. “What’s got into the poof? I know he didn’t get a, as you youngsters so quaintly put it, ‘A Happy’ because I would’ve seen the differences immediately.” He looked around. “What?”

“ ‘As you youngsters so quaintly put it?’ Okay, who are you and what did you do with Will’s Deadboy?” Xander asked.

Spike lapsed into game face and snarled. He moved lightening fast towards Xander and lifted him by the shirtfront, elevating him as far as he could reach. “Listen, Moron. It’s either joke about it or cry. My fuckin’ Grandsire’s trying to kill me and, as an added bonus, is too bloody gutless to do it ‘imself. The prick’s also putting Willow in danger, as well as the rest of you. Remind me to use your useless friggin’ carcass next time a grenade needs to be bloody smothered, you … you … Christ I don’t know why I bother.” He discarded the by now terrified Xander like an old toy, letting the young man crash to the ground like a disjointed doll. As Spike did so, he staggered and sank to his knees in pain as he finally felt the impulses from the chip penetrate the adrenaline-induced rage.

Xander bounced up, ready to assert himself. “Xander, stay!” Anya’s voice was commanding. “You deserved that, now don’t complain!” Xander looked at his fiancée; his face a confusing mixture of betrayal and the love he held for her.

“Bloody Hell! Why does he want to … Oh shit! Do you remember what he said when he was leaving luv? You know, when you chucked him out.”

“Oh Goddess! He said ‘This isn’t over.’ I knew he was angry, but trying to kill you, because he doesn’t approve of us?” Willow went pale from the shock of it. One of the fundamental pillars of her world had crumbled to dust under her and she wasn’t certain of anything anymore. She staggered towards the blond vampire and held him close. “First Buffy, now Angel? What did we do to deserve this?”

“Nothing pet. Nothing.” He chuckled mirthlessly and continued, “Y’know luv, this sort of reminds me of a more lethal version of that old Sidney Poitier film. What was it called?”

“You’re getting two mixed up in your head, dear heart. Mississippi Burning and Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”

“Oh,” Spike sounded slightly put out. “So, it seems that he’s capable of doing it. What the hell do we do now?”

“I’ll call Wes and Gunn,” said Cordelia. “We can at least try and find out if they know anything about it.”

Willow looked up. “Good. If he is behind this, I’ll kill him. You all know that, don’t you.” Her delivery was flat and emotionless. “At least Buffy had excuses for what she did. He doesn’t. He’s not having a breakdown, he’s not blinded by his slayer abilities either because he’s not one. It’s either hate or jealousy, nothing more. And,” she said, drawing breath, “he’s trying to determine my life for me, as if I’m a child. It’s patronising and insulting.”

The rest of the group looked at her in stunned silence. Spike was dumbstruck. {She’d kill for me?}

“Well, someone say something. Please.” Willow asked in a much more normal voice.

“I don’t have a problem with it pet, as long as you remain safe while you’re doing it.” Spike was the first to voice his support for the redhead’s avowed intention of killing Angel.

“While I don’t really have a difficulty in killing Angel per se,” said Giles. “You should be aware that you would be, in a sense, making the Council’s job easier. If there’s no vampire with a soul, the issue of Good versus Evil won’t arise. And the new Council will exploit that point, Willow.”

Willow looked up, obviously thinking. Before she could speak, however, Xander chimed in. “You realise, don’t you, that if Buffy ever finds out you’ve killed Angel she’ll try and kill both Spike and you.” The concern and worry for his friend was self-evident.

Willow nodded. “Buffy isn’t well. Goddess, Xander, she’s just got out of a hospital. It’s obvious she’s still sick. If there’s evidence of Angel also being … unwell, then I won’t do anything rash. But if he’s in his right mind, he’s dust. That simple.”

“How do we know that she’s telling the truth anyway?” Cordelia asked. “I know you’ve got that spell going Wills, but what if she was just told it was Angel?”

Anya looked up. “There is a way,” she said quietly, “but it’s pretty difficult, even if Giles has access to the relevant spell in one of his books.”

Willow looked at Anya while Giles also looked up, intrigued. “What way Anya?” He asked.

“There’s a spell which allows a skilled Magician, or Witch, to … psychically enter the mind of another and examine their memories. It can be a bit dangerous though.”

“Dangerous in what way Anya?” Willow asked, already intrigued.

“Well, I don’t remember a lot about it, but I seem to recall that someone could get … stuck, I suppose in the mind of the other person. I really don’t remember the why’s and wherefore’s of it all, but I know the spell works. Sometimes.”

“Pet, it’s too dangerous. Your own spell told you it was Peaches. What more do you need?”

“I need to be certain. Really certain.” Willow said, looking directly at Spike, resolve face firmly in place. “I know Angel well enough that if I could see her memories, I could tell I if it was him, someone wearing a Glamour, or simply someone telling her that he was Angel. And, to be fair, you’re always ready to believe the worst of Angel. Of course, the time you spent with Angelus would help there. He was an arse-hole.” Willow stretched the first syllable out, lengthening the A in the English manner.

“Willow!” Giles gasped, shocked. He’d never heard her use a pungent English curse before and he was shocked.

Spike looked levelly at Willow. “I didn’t find him any different, pet. With soul or without.” He paused, drew breath and asked her, resignedly, “I’m not going to be able to convince you not to do this, am I?”

“No.” Willow smiled as she answered, trying to take the sting out of her decision, fully aware that Spike’s protective instincts were screaming at him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “I have to, y’know. It just wouldn’t be … right otherwise. I’d hate myself.”

Spike nodded. He knew when he was beaten, and a tactical withdrawal was, he felt, in order. “All right luv. Go on. I won’t whine about it.”

The redhead smiled in response, then turned to Giles. “Do you know anything about this spell Anya’s talking about?”

“No, but I can get all the logical reference sources here in a few minutes.”

“Good, do that please Giles.” Willow was in full organisational mode now.

Nodding, Giles left the cellar, climbing the stairs gingerly. Willow continued to issue instructions allowing enough room to be cleared to allow her to cast an impromptu circle to work from. In the process, Anya caught one of the drapes with a chair and noticed the bottom corner of the Saint Andrew’s Cross. She giggled to herself, and thought of the fun she would have teasing Willow later.

*                       *                       *                       *
When Giles returned, he called for help, and ended up passing the books down to Xander before he could descend the steps himself. When all the books had been lowered, Giles followed, constantly reminding Xander not to damage them.

“Well,” Giles said as he surveyed the altered room he had re-entered, “You certainly haven’t let the grass grow under your feet, have you?”

Spike chuckled. “Hardly possible in here Ripper. We’re on bedrock.”

Willow looked at Giles and Xander, both overloaded with books. “Why don’t you bring those books over here and we’ll have a look at them, shall we?” She turned to Anya, and asked, “is there anything that you can remember about this spell that may help us locate it more quickly?”

Anya pondered the question, while Willow and the others each opened books. Suddenly the blonde girl looked up. “It was called ‘The Mindwalker’!”

Giles looked over at Anya, eyes suddenly ablaze. “Are you sure that’s what it’s called?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because I know it. I hadn’t even thought of it in these circumstances.” He looked at Willow apologetically. “I’m sorry Willow, it just hadn’t occurred to me to use the spell … constructively. Perhaps I should explain. When I was younger, the Mindwalker was used during the use of certain … recreational pharmaceuticals.”

“During recre-whats, G-man?” Xander blurted out.

“During drug use Xander,” Giles replied, sighing. “Specifically Mescaline trips.”

Xander gawped helplessly as the conversation continued around him.

“Giles, do you know which book the Mindwalker spell is in?” Willow asked anxiously.

“It’s in one of these,” he said gesturing vaguely at the lopsided mound of books he and Xander had returned with. “I feel I really must caution you, however. It’s a very … intense spell. The casting is reasonably easy, but the experiences are anything but. Would you listen while I explain?”

The nervous little witch nodded and Giles immediately continued to talk, seemingly oblivious to the rapt faces of the other Scoobies. “What happens during the spell is very dramatic. Essentially, the spell puts both you and the intended … victim into an enforced trance. The caster is then able to experience the thoughts, emotions, feeling, desire, fantasies of the other party. Even when both the caster and target were effected by drugs the experience is highly addictive. Almost God-like.” As he finished, Giles face took on a look of indescribable awe, mixed with a sense of the most dreadful loss.

Willow nodded. “Okay,” she said, thinking. “Giles, do I have to read the incantation? Or can someone perform it for me?”

“I’m unsure Willow. I’d need to refresh my memory somewhat. It was nearly thirty years ago, after all. Let me look, though. I know the book’s here somewhere.” After rummaging for a few minutes amongst the books untidily stacked on the one small table available, Giles found the volume he had been seeking. He began quickly flicking the pages, and even as he did so, his fundamental reverence for books remained obvious. “Ah, it’s here. It appears anyone can cast the actual spell, as long as the Mindwalker and the target are clearly delineated.”

The redhead nodded. “Good. In that case Giles, can you cast it. Also, don’t tell me which book it’s in. After my mistake with Buffy, the last thing I need is a spell that could become addictive. Oh Goddess! Does that mean using magic could become addictive too?”

“Willow,” Giles said sternly, “focus. Now, let me know when you’re ready.”

Willow nodded briefly.
 

Part 34  Barefoot Through the Head

 The echoes of the last of Giles’ chants had scarcely ceased when Willow began to feel herself sliding down into a mind-place she had never entered before. As she looked around, some of her reading helped to orient her. She knew she would pass a test before she could enter Holly’s mind, and that the test would be drawn from her own fears and self-perceptions. As she remembered her reading, the test began to appear. A giant frog began forming from clouds of dense black smoke that appeared from nowhere.

“What do you seek woman of the two-legs? Do ye not know that what you do is forbidden?” As the creature spoke, Willow found her fear welling up violently. {Why frogs? I hate them!} Willow shuddered. {Of course, it’s the test, stupid, that’s why the frog.}

Taking her courage in her hands, she tried to answer. “I seek something known only in the memories of this mind. I have no other choice.”

“Why is that, child? Why is there no other way?” The voice was probing, teasing and testing; for all the softness of the speech.

“Holly spoke to the … man, and I must be sure that it’s really him. Otherwise I could harm the wrong person.” Willow could not control the trembling of her limbs as her phobia began to express itself.

“And you cannot take her word? You cannot find another who saw? You cannot accept? Are you always so callous?”

Willow drew a deep breath. {I have to remember, this is imagery. It’s an aspect of my own mind challenging me. I have to.} “I’m determined to,” she answered. “I place too much importance on this to do anything less than get complete verification.” As she spoke, she saw the frog begin to … flicker, shading in and out of her perception. {The question is,} she asked herself, {whether or not it can harm me when it’s not there. Damn it, Willow, think!}

Gathering herself together, she sprinted for the tunnel opening, visible when it wasn’t blocked by the frog. She rushed through the space occupied by the insubstantial frog and reached safety. {No Willow, this is just the appearance of safety. You’ve passed the first hurdle, that’s all.}

She began to walk through the tunnel, which appeared to slope gradually downwards, examining the walls, floor and roof with great curiosity. She could see, although she was unaware of precisely how. As she looked at the walls, she ran her fingers along them lightly, feeling the curious texture. As she did so, she became aware, at a very basic level, of some of Holly’s memories. They were trivial things, images from her childhood, a meal she had eaten years before, how she got the hem of her prom dress wet in the gutter when her date didn’t escort her out of the car properly.

As she perceived these images, without becoming disoriented by them (which Willow found to be a great relief), she realised that to get to the important memories, she still had a long way to travel.

She continued down the tunnel until she reached a branch. {Great, which way do I go? I don’t even have paper to make a map with!} Randomly, she decided to turn right, and after that always alternate so she could find her way back.

As she turned, she saw a figure in the distance. She walked curiously towards it. As she got closer, she shrieked, and immediately turned to run back the way she came. It was Principal Snyder. The late Principal Snyder. But he seemed seven feet tall and had both large fangs and vicious looking claws. He snarled as he began to pursue her. For some reason, he seemed to be carrying a large pad of hall detention slips, grasped between two of its claws. As she turned the corner, the Snyder creature let out a plaintive cry of “It’s not fair!” and dissipated into a cloud of steam.

The little redhead peered around the corner again. The coast seemed clear and she walked, a lot more cautiously, down the tunnel once more.

Once more she tentatively reached out and touched the wall. Most of the images she received this time were of Holly’s high school days. The memories were also slightly more intrusive than before. {I hope this is a good sign,} she thought. {If the memories are more intense, I’m probably on the right path.}

As Willow moved cautiously down the tunnel, she eventually noticed that the gradient of the slope had increased slightly, that she was walking down a slightly steeper slope. Looking ahead, she saw another junction. Remembering her decision, she decided to turn left on this occasion. Ahead, the view appeared to be somewhat obscured by threads of drifting smoke. A rather nauseating green, as she watched the smoke began to thicken and coalesce into an image of a horse. No, it was a Unicorn. A winged unicorn. In fact it was a jet black winged unicorn with frighteningly long razor sharp teeth while each hoof terminated in a savage claw. On each wing, at the junction point there was another long and savage claw, these ones being serrated.

“Oh My God!” Willow immediately turned and fled back up the tunnel towards safety. As she ran, she noticed that the slope seemed far steeper than it had as she walked down, while ahead she could see more smoke concentrating into something.

The smoke ahead of her formed into a shape. It was Spike! “How did you get here?” Willow immediately asked.

“I’m not, kitten. You created me. I’m just a mental image of yours, projected into this consensual hallucination.”

“Well, that proves I created you. I couldn’t imagine Spike saying consensual hallucination if his unlife depended on it. How about we keep on running?”

“Works for me pet.” The artificial Spike began to run up the slope towards safety.

As Willow followed him, she could hear the unicorn thing getting closer. “Spike, faster! It’s gaining on us!”

They turned around the corner of the tunnel, Willow gasping for breath while Spike seemed completely calm and collected. Behind them, they could hear the creature whinnying with rage. It seemed unable to turn the corner for some reason that Willow did not understand.

“What the hell do I do now?”

“Well, pet, you could try and kill it. Or you could try and dodge it. Or you could go the other way. Or … if you can create me, surely you can create a weapon?”

“Now I begin to see why I created you. It’s a lot easier to interact with someone, even if that person’s not real, than to think things through alone. Interesting. Anyway, create a weapon, you said? What kind?”

“Well kitten,” the hallucinatory Spike said, “I’d want something that had some range. That brute looks vicious.”

“Okay, so a crossbow?”

“That’d work luv.”

“All right then.” Willow sank to her haunches, trying to block the ongoing whinnying shrieks from her perception as she focused on creating a lethal crossbow. {This is harder than I imagined,} she thought as she wrestled with the concept of creating an item from nothing. {Perhaps if I …} her thoughts trailed off as she suddenly realised that to create something here, she had to want it. Desperately. And she became aware of the fact that she did want a crossbow desperately.

As the realisation came to her, she felt the weapon beginning to form in her hands. The texture of the stock slowly became harder, and eventually woody. The weight of the bow and the tension of the string all slowly became apparent. She looked down and saw it, sitting in her hands. She smiled up at Spike and grinned wickedly. Then she focused back into her thoughts. Only moments later something else appeareda six-foot long pole with a mirror on the end. Using this, she was able to tell that the unicorn-thing was some distance away from the corner. “Good,” she muttered to herself, “I’ll have time to get a shot in.”

Willow drew a breath and then released it. {I’m missing something. What is it?} She mentally asked herself. {‘It’s something about unicorns. I know that much, at least. Goddess, who’d have ever thought Harmony might actually prove to be useful? Oh! Of course. Unicorn horns can sense poison. Unicorns are threatened by the taint of the impure. This however, is not a unicorn. It’s the opposite. So what do I have that’s pure?  I wonder if my heart is pure? I think so.} As her thought processes brought her to the necessary conclusion, she removed the quarrel from the crossbow gingerly and pricked the end of her finger, making sure that she got a drop of blood onto the head of the bolt. Having done so, she reloaded, and once more used the mirror to spot her opponent. It was in much the same place, and still enraged.

Again, Willow drew breath and prepared to fire. She turned the corner, and aimed carefully. As she released the breath she gently caressed the trigger. The bolt flew from the crossbow, slamming into the unicorn-creature’s chest. As it buried itself, the animal let out a long, piercing, almost human scream and began to dissolve back into the green smoke it had formed from.

Willow let out a long sigh of relief. She looked over at Spike and said, “Let’s go. It can’t take much longer.” As she spoke she began to walk down the previously guarded tunnel. This time, as she walked, she immediately noticed the slope appeared steeper than previously. She once again placed her hand on the wall of the tunnel. This time the memories were far more intense, and far more recent than those Willow had previously experienced. She had to stop for a moment to re-orient herself before continuing down the tunnel.

Once more, Willow and Spike reached a junction. In keeping with her previous decisions, she confidently turned right. The slope of this passage increased immediately and significantly. Willow was walking cautiously now, and holding herself back as if she were walking down a steep hill. She stopped and reached out. As she touched the wall of the tunnel, she was overwhelmed by Holly’s most recent experiences. She had not realised, until then, the extremity of terror to which Holly had been subjected during the abduction.

Shaking, she removed her hand from the tunnel wall and forced herself onwards, wondering what she would encounter next. When she saw what appeared a dead end ahead, she was somewhat surprised, and as she reached the blank wall reached out a hand. To her shock, her hand passed through the wall, and she immediately decided to walk through the illusory blockage.

Taking Spike by the hand, both walked through to the far side of the wall. As she emerged, Willow was surprised to see Spike had vanished.

A voice from behind her startled her even more. “You don’t need him. I know I’m the one you really want.”

Willow jumped from the unexpected shock of hearing Angel’s voice. She turned to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a small smile playing across his lips. “The question you have to ask yourself, acushla, is whether I’m a projection of your mind, or the mind we’re in.” Angel smiled evilly as he spoke. It was not an Angelus smile, and somehow Willow found that even more frightening than if it had been.

“Let’s face it, witch. You aren’t up to this. You just don’t have the balls for it.”

“Well, that’s answered that. You’re a creation of my mind. Angel didn’t talk so crudely, even as Angelus. Go away, sprite.”

Angel snarled and vanished. Not even a puff of smoke marked his disappearance.

Willow moved to the far wall and reached out. As she did so, she saw the images for which she had been searching. She watched, horrified, as Angel--and there was no longer any doubt in her mind that it was he--spoke to Holly at length. He made it all very clear. “She deserves better than that bastard. She deserves me. No-one else.” It was jealousy that had motivated Angel to try and kill Spike, and also put the rest of the Scoobies in terrible danger.

As the realization hit her that she had completed her quest, her vision blurred for a moment and suddenly she was back in the basement with the rest of the Scoobies.

        *                       *                       *                       *

“So, Dead-boy sicced the order of Taraka on us because he’s jealous?” Xander could not believe it.

“To be scrupulously fair, Xander,” Giles intervened, “from Willow’s account, the sole target was supposed to be Spike. That both of the attacks occurred while other people were close by isn’t, strictly speaking, his fault. As Willow has said though, it all comes down to jealousy. It’s really a very ordinary evil that we’re dealing with.”

Anya shrugged. “If I had my powers, Willow would be justified in invoking me. I say get rid of him now.”

“Um, thanks, I think. However, the point is,” Willow began forcefully. “I’m not going to passively sit back and accept what he’s doing. He’s tried to hurt my lover, my mate. He’s placed the rest of you in danger. He’s got to be dealt with. Permanently.”

“Isn’t dusting him a bit like overkill though?” Cordelia asked.

“Cordy,” Willow responded. “He’s stalking me. He’s getting Spike out of the way first. Then I can bet he’s planning to come and help me ‘get over it.’ That’s stalking just as much as peeking through my windows is. He’s dangerous, Cordy. Think for a moment. If he gets bored with me, what’s to stop him obsessing over you next? And will he kill me like he’s tried to do with Spike if he succeeds this time?”

“He hasn't been the same since ... he went all dark. He's sane, don't get me wrong, but he's ... different.” Cordelia said. “He's like Angelus, only somehow he's worse, because he still has his soul, but doesn't seem to care. He’s been deciding what’s right and what’s not. And no-one else gets a say in it.”

“He’s a bloody menace. You saw what he did to the slayer? Well, that kind of obsession doesn’t go away easily. I ought to know, having had one for a century and now I’ve found a new obsession. One I won’t give up. Ever.” Spike smiled fatuously at Willow as he spoke.

“I’m going to leave at dawn and drive to LA. And don’t anyone try and stop me.” Willow’s resolve face was firmly in place.
 

Part 35  End Game

One hour before dawn. About three hours after the previous part.

Willow began packing as soon as everyone else had left. Not that she needed a lot, just a set of street clothes that would not encumber her and a sports bag.

Spike watched, highly concerned as Willow made her preparations. “I’d really rather you waited pet. I could come as well if we went after dark.”

“No, Spike. This is about me. To Angel you just were an inconvenience; I was the real target. He needs to find out that not everyone is available at his beck and call. And it’ll be the last thing he ever learns,” Willow promised. “Oh, has Cordy rung Wesley and Gunn, warning them to get out of the line of fire?”

“I dunno luv. D’you want me to check?”

“Please.” Willow was looking for something to include in her bag. Finding them, still in their plastic, she opened the bag and dumped the contents inside.”

Spike looked into the bag and winced. “Pet, that’s a just a bit nasty!”

Willow grinned mirthlessly back. “Good. I want to be very sure. Now, go call Cordy for me.”

Spike smiled, dropped into a very bad impersonation of a hunchback, poked out his tongue and responded lispingly, “Yeth Mithtreth. Immediately Mithtreth.”

As he shuffled off, swinging his right arm and right leg together, Willow dissolved into a giggling puddle.

A little later, Spike returned. “Bad news pet. The Prom Queen did call, but …” As he trailed off he winced and looked exceptionally uncomfortable.

“What Spike?” Willow’s arms were folded and her foot tapped impatiently.

“But they didn’t believe her. They think Angel’s in no danger at all, and nor are they.”

“The idiots! Call Giles. Get him to call Wesley. I hope at least Giles can get it through their skulls. I’m taking that bastard apart, and Goddess help anyone who gets in my way.”

Spike nodded and left, thinking {I have to remember never to get her this pissed at me.}

By the time Spike returned, Willow was sitting and trying to read, however, images of what she was about to do filled her head. “Pet? The Watcher set up a conference call. Between us, we eventually convinced those two tossers to go out and stay out. With a bit of luck they’ll actually listen. I’ll be honest though, luv. I’m not sure how sincere they were.”

Willow nodded. “I won’t hurt them, but nothing will stop me doing this, Spike.”

“I know kitten. And to be truthful, it scares me. I also know that if I try and stop you, or go with you, I’d end up the only vampiric cockroach in Sunnydale. Which is something I want even less.”

Willow smiled and looked up at her lover. “At least you understand. I’m sure that Giles and the others don’t. Not properly. It’s about more than being angry. If I don’t do this I’ll never feel safe again.”

Spike nodded and wrapped his arms around her. “I understand that kitten. Angelus terrified me when the shit was around. I just … it’s hard, y’know, letting you head off when I can’t protect you. It’s the realities of the situation conflicting with the nature of our relationship. I should be the protector, not you.”

Willow nodded as she thought about what Spike was saying. “I understand that, but the real world doesn’t allow those … desires to always be fulfilled. Part of me wants to just hide and say ‘Do it for me,’ if I do that, though, I’ll never be able to stop hiding.”

Spike held Willow tight. “Just come back safe pet. That’s all I ask,”

Willow grinned up. “I will. Remember, I have an advantage. He wants me alive. Anyway, it’s time for me to go.”

Spike kissed her forehead and watched as she walked to the car, sports bag in hand.

        *                       *                       *                       *

Willow pulled up outside the Hyperion Hotel, and got out, locking the car as she did so. Carrying the bag, she walked inside, looking around curiously. She saw no-one in the foyer at all. {So what do I do? Ring the bell for service?} She thought, suppressing the giggles that threatened to overtake her.

At length she decided that it couldn’t hurt to try, so she walked boldly up and rang the bell. While she waited, she unzipped the sports bag and looked down, smiling. {If what’s in here doesn’t do the job,} she thought, {nothing will.}

She waited for a few minutes, but again nothing happened. She decided that the only way to find Angel would be to search the hotel. {But how do I do it? This place is a labyrinth. I could miss him and he’d just be here all the time, not even realising I had been in the building.}

As she thought, she remembered something Tara had taught her, a spell which unlocked doors. Tara had used it when she forgot her key. {It’s no different to do it the other way though, all the spell does is move the tumblers. So, if I was to move through the building methodically, I could lock each door and make sure he and I didn’t miss each other.}

First, Willow locked the front doors, and then checked the offices behind the counter. There was no-one inside. She made sure there was only one exit from the office and then locked it behind her. She decided to cover the ground floor and the basement first, thinking that they would be more likely places for Angel to be.

She moved back into the kitchens, and immediately noticed that recent renovations had been made. It seemed designed for a small group of people, rather than catering for large crowds. She moved cautiously into the kitchen and locked the door behind her. If Angel was in here, he couldn’t get past her now. She could only see one other exit from the kitchen, and it was shrouded in gloom. Murmuring another incantation, she created a magical version of low light goggles, and, now able to see into the gloom, she was able to see a passage stretching out ahead of her.

She very gingerly entered the passage and willed the door shut and locked behind her. As she moved forward into the gathering darkness, she could see doors to either side of her. She realised that she would have to open each one. She had never learned how to see through solid objects.

Willow very cautiously turned the handle of the first door, only to discover it locked. Focusing the spell she had been using once more, she mentally unlocked the door and opened it. The room, much to her disappointment, was empty. Closing and locking the door again, she moved to the door opposite. This one, she discovered, was unlocked. Opening it, she saw an unused bedroom. From the decoration, she was fairly sure it was Wesley’s.

Shutting and locking the door, she moved nervously forward, reaching the third door. This was also unlocked, and upon opening it, she found another unused bedroom--Gunn’s.

Once more moving on after locking the door securely behind her, Willow came to a set of steps going down. {Well, of course, idiot girl. He’s gonna be lurking in the sewers … again}

Willow moved down the steps and eventually reached a passage that led even further underground. She walked cautiously down it and saw a door ahead of her.  She slowly turned the door handle and opened it. Ahead of her was Angel … asleep.

“Dead boy! Wake up!” Willow bellowed as loud as she could. The response was gratifying. Angel shuddered and sat up, looking utterly confused. “On your feet! Now!” Willow pressed her advantage.

Angel clambered out, looking very confused. “What on earth’s wrong Willow?”

“You know, Angel, and don’t try and play dumb. The Order of Taraka is what’s wrong. I told you that you shouldn’t to interfere in my life. But you did! Why? Simple jealousy. You’re vile. A hypocrite.”

“I don’t know what …”

“ ‘She doesn’t deserve him, she deserves me.’ Does that ring any bells?”

“How …”

“I walked inside her mind Angel. After she told us, and I didn’t believe her. How dare you! Did you know that the first time the order attacked, both Spike and I were nearly killed? Or, that on the second attempt the whole of the Magic Box was blown apart by grenades? The only reason I’m here is that Spike deliberately took the full force of the blast! He saved everyone in there. Me, Giles, Anya, Xander and Cordy.”

“I was doing what was needed Willow. Spike’ll hurt you. Kill you.”

“Liar! You’re jealous. You’re a small-minded little toad. Can you give me a good reason not to kill you?”

Angel chuckled, and it wasn’t a sound Willow recognised. There was nothing of the Angel she knew in that laugh. “I chose you, when I wasn’t encumbered by my soul, Willow. After I had killed Buffy, I was going to make you mine. I’ve decided that was the right decision, and now nothing, and no-one, will stop me.”

Willow shook her head sadly. “I don’t know what’s happened to you Angel, but it’s made you into what you’ve always feared you’d be--a monster. But what you’ve said has made this decision a lot easier for me.” As she spoke, she unzipped her sports bag and dropped it to the floor.

Angel smiled nastily. “And what can a little thing like you do, other than accept that you’ll be mine?”

Willow looked him straight in the eye and answered. “This.” As she spoke, the bag’s contents rose. Some four hundred pencils hovered, the points all facing Angel. Willow focused her will and without another word, accelerated all of the pencils at fantastic speed towards Angel.

He was unaware of the danger he was in until the last second, and by that time he was too late to do anything. He shuddered in repeated agony as pencil after pencil hammered like nails into him. Eventually, one penetrated his heart, and he spasmed, muscles and bone locking up briefly before the inevitable disintegration overtook him. Seconds later, there was nothing more than a scattered pile of dust on the floor.

As she looked at all that remained of Angel, Willow was surprised by her lack of feelings. There was no vindication, no grief, nothing, other than a vague sense of tragic rightness. She imagined that dog owners whose pets became rabid felt much the same.

She turned and began to leave the Hyperion. She was not foolish enough to think herself safe--no-one is in Sunnydale. But she felt less threatened than she had in the past weeks, and more at ease.

END Volume 1

read the sequal 'Transitory Evils'

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