Unwelcome Visitors

Series: Making a Princess Part 23

Author: Sylver

E-mail: vedmababayaga@yahoo.com

Rating: PG

Pairing: None this part

Summary: Willow, Drusilla, and Angelus have made it back to LA and get a little surprise visit. Meanwhile the Scoobies get a little visit of their own.

Spoilers: Series begins just after ‘Lover’s Walk’, now a couple of years have passed, and we’re part way through season six.

Disclaimer: I did not build the Buffyverse that would be Joss, it is merely my playground.

Distribution: If you want it, fine by me, just drop me a line first.

Special Thanks: Kat for checking over my ramblings, Aden for always being happy to see me, and all the super cool people who send me feedback!

Feedback: Pretty please with sugar on top!

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          The trio had been back in Los Angelus for about three weeks, laying low at Angelus’ insistence until they knew if the police were after Willow. So far, she had found no indication that the crime had been connected to her in the police database, but she was so close to being home, that she didn’t want to be hasty and blow things now. They mostly spent their time in seclusion, Willow and Angelus spending a great deal of time reading, Drusilla playing with her dollies and having tea parties. Of course every night Angelus and Dru would go out to hunt, leaving Willow behind, but she didn’t mind. The redhead loved this time best of all.
 
 

          She loved the old hotel and all the little noises it made when no one else was there. She had even secretly fixed up one of the rooms on the top floor as a place for doing magic. The redheaded hacker had acquired a multitude of spell books while she was overseas. A few of the more valuable ones she brought back with her, but the majority she had to wait for, while they were shipped to her. In fact, a large trunk of books arrived just that day, and she was busy unpacking them, when she heard a noise coming from downstairs. Willow sighed in frustration, wanting to finish her task, but knowing it would be easier to go down now than to listen to Dru and Angelus calling all over the hotel for her. However, as she came down the stairs in no particular rush, she was stopped short by the sight before her.
 
 

          “Cordelia,” Willow breathed in surprise.
 
 

          “Oh my god, Willow!” Cordelia cried out with her own shock, “What are you doing here!?”
 
 

          “I live here,” the redhead replied a bit defensively.
 
 

          “Does that mean Angel is back from wherever the hell he went?”
 
 

          “Yeah, he’s around. What are ‘you’ doing here?”
 
 

          “Oh, well…” Cordelia looked at the ground sheepishly for a moment, “…after Angel sort of freaked out with the whole Darla thing and fired us, Wesley, Gunn and I started our own business. But then Gunn died fighting a Gachblas demon, and Wes moved back to take care of his father, don’t even get me started on the freaky issues between those two, and so that just left little ol’ me, visions girl, with no job, and no way to pay the rent. So I figured since Angel had been gone for months, and this place was just sitting empty…”
 
 

          “You thought you’d just move right in,” Willow finished for her.
 
 

          “Umm, yeah?”
 
 

          “Well, I’m sure ‘Angel’ will be happy to see you. He should be back any time now,” Willow said with a smile, motioning Cordelia over to the couch.
 
 

          “Great! So, have you been here long? I mean, I thought your parents had you locked away somewhere, what with the whole crazy thing, and all.”
 
 

          Yep, that was Cordelia, as subtle as a train wreck.
 
 

          “Cordy, I wasn’t crazy. Vampires and stuff are real, remember? I wasn’t making it up,” Willow replied tersely, trying to stay calm until Angelus got home and could kill the stupid bitch.
 
 

          “Well, yeah, I know that. But you of all people should know better than to go spouting off about all that to the normals. Plus, there was that whole thing between you and Spike, and can I just take a moment to say, ewww. What was that all about? I mean if that’s not crazy, then I don’t know what is.”
 
 

          Willow flinched at the mention of her old lover. It had never gotten easier hearing his name; each time was like a fresh stab of pain in her heart. It had taken months to get Drusilla to not mention him in her presence, and now here her childhood nemesis was rambling on about him. ‘Screw it,’ she thought, ‘I’ll kill her myself.’ Just then the front door swung open and in strolled Angelus, with Drusilla following close at his heels.
 
 

          Cordelia gasped at the pair of them, immediately realizing the implications of the two of them being together. She was in big trouble.
 
 

          “Angelus?” the seer asked weakly.
 
 

          “Cordelia!” Angelus boomed with a cheerful voice, “Look, Dru baby, we have company over for dinner!”
 

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          The Scoobies were assembled at the Summer’s residence for the latest creature feature. Normally the gang would be over at the Magic Box, but there had been an unfortunate incident there earlier in the week while Dawn was helping with the inventory. She had accidentally knocked over a small rack of spell ingredients, breaking several of the vials. The somewhat volatile substances within combined to create a blue fog that turned the hair and skin of all those who came in contact with it blue as well. Luckily the color faded after a few days, but it was taking a bit longer to air out the shop. And so, here they were in Buffy’s living room, the whole group gathered around pretending to listen to Giles go on about some leprechaun type creature.
 
 

          “I thought leprechauns were supposed to be good. You know, like making rainbows and giving you gold and stuff,” Dawn said in confusion, interrupting the frustrated watcher.
 
 

          “Oh well, that just goes to show how little most humans know about anything supernatural,” Anya said matter of factly, “See real leprechauns use bursts of color to stun their victims. Then, they eat them. I’m not sure where the whole gold thing got started, but they are native to Ireland.”
 
 

          “The point is,” Giles interjected, “if we do indeed have leprechauns here in Sunnydale, then we should step up patrols, not to mention research. As Anya already pointed out, these creatures can be extremely dangerous, and tend to live in packs, which means there could be quite a lot of them around. So, Buffy, I want you and Spike to check all the cemeteries, Oz and Xander, take the north side of town, Amy and I will take the south side. Anya, Dawn and Tara, I want you to go over the books again and see if you can learn anything more about these creatures.”
 
 

          As Giles finished delegating tasks, everyone gave little mumbled groans at their assignments, and readied themselves to get started when they heard a knock at the door.
 
 

          “Huh, that’s weird. Everyone I know is already here,” Buffy said as she moved to answer it.
 
 

But before she had the chance, Dawn bounded across the room with a loud, “I’ll get it!” The bouncy teen lost some of her enthusiasm though when she opened the door to reveal two uniformed officers and a tall man in a trench coat. “Um, Buffy, it’s the cops.”
 
 

Suddenly everyone went very still. The police being at your door was never a good thing. Buffy and Giles both went to the door, standing guard somewhat, reluctant to let them in.
 
 

“Miss Summers? Buffy Summers?”
 
 

“That’s right,” Buffy replied, her tension obvious.
 
 

“Hi, my name is Detective Mike Addison, and I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about a Miss Willow Rosenberg?”
 
 

If the room had been silent before, you could have heard a pin drop in there now. Everyone’s tension had multiplied tenfold, especially Spike who had been waiting for some kind of news about his redheaded witch literally for years.
 
 

Buffy showed the men in, the detective casually looked around the living room in a manner that seemed nonchalant, but if you asked him days later he would still be able to describe all the occupants and their surroundings with surprising detail. The two uniformed officers stood with their hands clasped behind their backs, standing guard in case things got out of hand.
 
 

“I hope I’m not interrupting a study session,” he said, noticing several large texts lying around.
 
 

“Oh, yeah, you know us college students; it’s all about the studying. Right guys?” the slayer prompted and was answered by several less than enthusiastic voices agreeing with her.
 
 

“So, you said you were here about Willow?” Spike asked, wanting to cut to the chase and find out what was happening with his lost love.
 
 

“And you are?” the detective asked, eyeing the dangerous looking man, suspiciously.
 
 

“Name’s Spike. Now what’s the word on Willow?” he was losing all patience with Mr. Trench Coat. He had been trying for what seemed like an eternity to learn the truth about what happened to the girl, but despite all his efforts, he could never turn up any answers. Spike came back to Sunnydale, convinced that the Scoobies had to know where she was, but after all this time he’d come to the conclusion that they were just as clueless as he was. However, that opinion was about to change.
 
 

“Spike, huh? Interesting name. Would I be right in assuming that you all are acquainted with Miss Rosenberg?” He asked and glanced around to see a room full of bobbing heads, “Well then, you all might just be able to make my job a little easier. To start with, let me ask, when was the last time any of you spoke with Miss Rosenberg?”
 
 

Several eyes turned to look at Xander, who stared down at the ground rather than at the expression of hurt in Dawn’s eyes over him keeping such a major secret from her.
 
 

“I spoke to her, but it was months ago. Almost a year.”
 
 

Spike jumped to his feet, not even trying to control his rage, “You spoke to her, and you didn’t tell me! How could you! After all I’ve done to help you stupid gits!” Xander sprung to his feet as well, his own rage just as hot.
 
 

“Why on earth would I tell you anything about her after what you did!? It was your fault they put her in that place to begin with!”
 
 

“What place!? What are you talking about!?”
 
 

Spike moved up to scream directly in Xander’s face, but only for a moment. The uniformed policemen, sensing that duty was calling, stepped in and each taking hold of Spike dragged him back to the other side of the room.
 
 

“So, I take it not everyone here has a full history on where Miss Rosenberg has been the last few years. No matter, what I need to know is if any of you have spoken to her recently?” the detective asked, and glanced around to see nothing but empty faces. “I see. Well, so much for making my job easier.”
 
 

“What is this all about?” Giles asked the picture of self control.
 
 

“And you are?”
 
 

“Rupert Giles.”
 
 

“Well, Mr. Giles, I am conducting a murder investigation, and Miss Rosenberg is wanted for questioning.”
 
 

“You can’t seriously be implying that Willow is a suspect? She couldn’t harm a fly!” So much for self control.
 
 

“At this time we just want to speak with her, but don’t fool yourselves about this girl being harmless. I have spoken to several former employees of the psychiatric hospital where she was being held, and they all informed me that she was prone to fits of violence.”
 
 

“That’s where’s she’s been!? Locked away in some nuthouse!? How could you!? All of you! She was your friend, and you just left her in there to rot!?” Spike redoubled his efforts to get away, but his struggles against the police only succeeded in setting off his chip. He collapsed to the floor, howling in pain. The officers glanced at one another, silently deciding not to risk it, and put handcuffs on the obviously dangerous man.
 
 

“We didn’t just leave her there, dead boy! We tried to get her out, but there was nothing we could do.” Xander yelled in their defense, the whole time not even believing his own words. He still couldn’t forgive himself for not finding a way to get Willow out of that place.
 
 

“Look everyone just calm down. Xander, sit down and be quiet until we can get to the bottom of this. And Spike if you want to vent your anger at someone for not telling you the truth of Willow’s whereabouts, that someone should be me. I instructed the others not to say anything to you, for obvious reasons. Now, if everyone can just control themselves, I’m interested in hearing exactly who the good detective thinks Willow has killed.” Giles stated, taking back control of the room.
 
 

“The victim’s name was John Lemkee. He used to work at Marion when Miss Rosenberg was there. We found his body a few weeks ago in an alley in Council Bluffs, Iowa.”
 
 

“And why do you think Willow was responsible?”
 
 

“Let’s just say they have a history,” the detective replied, unwilling to give out any more information unless it would benefit his investigation in some way.
 
 

“John?” Xander asked softly, “Not the bastard that raped her?”
 
 

The detective started to answer, but was interrupted by a howl of rage and pain, from the general direction of the floor where Spike was being pinned down in handcuffs by one of the officers. He had failed Willow in so many ways, but he had never imagined anything like this happening to her. He simply assumed that she didn’t love him anymore and had left to start her life over. Now, hearing the truth, he knew that no amount of penance on his part would ever make up for him not finding her, not trying harder to get her back. He felt cool tears stinging his eyes. Normally the blonde vamp would be too ashamed to let these people see him cry, but at that moment, he was too overwhelmed by all he had just learned to even care who saw. He wept openly.
 
 

All eyes had turned to Spike as they watched him bawling, face down on the rug. Of the group, only Xander, Buffy, and Giles had known all the details of where Willow was and what had been happening to her. They did try to convince her parents to have her released on several occasions, but at the time when Willow was admitted she had been so deranged from the bloodlust brought on by drinking from vampire, that it was impossible to convince Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg that their daughter wasn’t insane.
 
 

Xander suggested several times that the group of them try to break her out, but Giles would hear none of it. For them to ‘rescue’ her, would be seen as kidnapping in the eyes of the law. Willow was a minor at the time, and her parents were well within their rights to get her the help they thought she needed. Besides, Giles had assured them once the bloodlust subsided; Willow would again be in control of her mind and would surely be released. No one imagined she would be kept so long or that such horrible things could happen to her in a health facility. Xander had written to her every week, trying to keep Willow’s hopes up, but his friend rarely responded to his letters.
 
 

He only learned of the rape when he had gone once again to plead with her parents for her release. Willow had stopped writing to him altogether, and Xander feared she finally just gave up all hopes of freedom. Ira and Sheila tried to pacify the boy by explaining that they were professionals, and their daughter was not well enough to leave Marion. They told him Willow was so desperate for attention that she had even gone so far as to accuse one of the staff of molesting her. Whether or not her parents believed her, he had.
 
 

Xander tried again to convince Giles and Buffy to help him get Willow out, but the ex-librarian still refused, insisting that if her allegations were true, they would be dealt with through the proper channels, and that it wasn’t their place to get involved. This decision, and Buffy’s agreement with her watcher, had essentially driven a wedge between the three, until only the slaying still tied them together. Xander decided to go on his own to help Willow, but before he had the chance, the police paid him a visit, informing him that his oldest friend was missing, and possibly dead. They wanted to know if he had seen her, but of course his answer was no. He failed her, but if given the chance to help her now, he wouldn’t fail her again.
 
 

Looking at Spike and hearing the desperate, anguished sobbing that was coming from him; Xander wondered briefly if he previously misjudged the blonde vampire. He still hated him, and blamed him for putting Willow in this mess in the first place, but deep down he had to admit that Spike truly did care about the redheaded hacker.
 
 

They were all looking at Spike with guilty expressions, especially Giles. If he followed Xander’s suggestions from the beginning, perhaps none of this would have happened. He had been a fool to trust that her family and her doctors would do the right thing and release her. This was all his fault. He should have done something to save her, but he didn’t and now he would never forgive himself.
 
 

Buffy was feeling the guilt too as she looked at Spike. Willow was her best friend once, she should have done something. At the time though, she was feeling hurt over the attention Angel had been giving the little redhead. Then Spike came back into their lives, and quickly became infatuated with Buffy. He claimed it was love, and when the slayer first returned from the grave, she allowed herself to believe it. But looking at him now and hearing the pain of his cries, she knew he never truly loved her. There was only room for one woman in his undead heart, and that was Willow. Despite how adamantly she had insisted that they stop seeing each other, just knowing how fiercely he loved someone else, made jealousy well up inside her.
 
 

The attention of the group was brought back to the detective when he cleared his throat loudly.
 
 

“Perhaps this would be easier if I questioned you all individually down at the station. However, since you seem to be cooperating, I’d prefer to keep this simple, without all the headache and paperwork of an official interrogation. So, I’ll try to be brief and say that I cannot confirm or deny whether the victim is the same man Miss Rosenberg accused of raping her. But let’s just say that the amount of disfigurement of the body indicates a crime of passion.”
 
 

“And do you have any proof that it was Willow?” Giles asked, taking off his glasses and cleaning them furiously.
 
 

“We did have two very good pieces of evidence, but before they could be analyzed, someone broke into the lab, stole them, and killed one of our officers,” Detective Addison replied coldly.
 
 

“I see. So you have ‘no’ actual proof it was Willow,” Giles stated calmly.
 
 

“Not yet, but I will. I know it was her. Just as I know she was somehow responsible for the death of four guards when she disappeared from the psychiatric hospital in Sioux City, as well as a string of other mysterious deaths throughout the area shortly after that.”
 
 

“Well, Detective, as you can plainly see, we have no idea of her whereabouts. So, unless you have anymore questions, we really should be getting back to our…um…studying,” Giles said dismissively.
 
 

“I may have no more questions at this time, but I’ll leave my card so you can contact me in case any of you do hear from her,” he said, setting the small piece of paper on the banister, “I urge all of you to call me immediately if you have any news. Believe me, after all I’ve seen, there’s no doubt in my mind that this girl is a cold blooded killer.”
 
 

At this, Detective Addison motioned for the uniformed officers to uncuff Spike. They looked disappointed, but did as they were instructed, heading for the door, leaving the vampire still sobbing softly on the floor.
 
 

“Remember what I said, she’s dangerous,” the detective stated half over his shoulder, and then they were gone, unconcerned with the aftermath they left behind them.
 
 

Almost immediately after they had left, Spike jumped to his feet, causing all of them to lurch back somewhat in alarm. Spike however, simply headed for the door, without a single word, and without looking at any of them. He knew full well at that moment that if he didn’t get out of there he would beat the lot of them so severely that the chip would finally liquefy his brain. He needed air, he needed to think. Unfortunately the more thoughts rattled around his brain, the angrier he became. He was wrong, he didn’t need to think, he needed to kill something, and he veered off toward the nearest cemetery to do just that.

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