~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 41~
"Willow, please," Angel murmured as he stepped closer to the shaking redhead.
She shook her head, and wouldn't look at either of them. He could smell the scent of her tears, and felt his heart breaking. Buffy stepped between them. "Back off, Angel," she whispered.
"Buffy, you don't understand. . ." he began.
"No, you don't understand. I don't know what's been going on around here. . .Well, actually I have a pretty good idea," the Slayer glared at him and placed a hand on his chest to stay him. Her other hand shot out and grabbed Spike as well. "Back off. I know Willow, and what she needs right now is time to think everything over."
The dark vampire looked sadly at the redhead, who had walked over to stand next to Cordy. His seer had placed an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, and was whispering in her ear. "Buffy, I can't let her just think that it was all because of our reaction to her blood."
The Slayer stared at her ex-boyfriend's face and saw the truth there. "You love her," she whispered, eyes wide in shock.
Soulful brown eyes meet hers. "We both do," he murmured. "We've both told her, but with this happening..."
Buffy felt her heart break a little for her best friend. She looked between the two vampires, staring again with rapt attention at Willow. Apparently there had been a *lot* happening in LA that her friend hadn't shared with her. Two master vampires were claiming to love her, and had obviously been expressing their feelings quite physically. Then only to find out that the entire attraction may have been caused by some stupid demon bite? Buffy had watched her seem to shrink after taking in Wesley's words. She knew how insecure the redhead had always been in the love department.
The Slayer shook her head, and held them back again when they made another move to get to Willow. "No. Not now. She won't believe you. You have to give her time, Angel."
The vampire sighed his resignation, knowing Buffy was right. He wanted so badly to walk over and claim her with a kiss, to show her his love had nothing to do with the blood pounding through her veins. Willow needed to work through everything, and after a period of time, he would convince her that what they had was real. Time was the only thing that would let her believe they meant it when he and Spike told her they loved her.
~~~*~~~
Willow stood in Cordelia's embrace. Her whispered words of comfort barely penetrated. The redhead's eyes were filled with tears as she relived each moment with Spike and Angel. Goddess, what had she been thinking? They were beautiful, gorgeous vampires. What would they want with her? She knew it was too good to be true. Everything would go back to the way it had been once Wesley did the spell. She would once again be good, old reliable Willow, great for a friend, but, ugh, a girlfriend? A mate? After the way she had acted with them, how could she ever look at either Spike or Angel again? There would be all kinds of awkwardness. Awkwardness would abound.
The redhead's mind spewed thoughts left and right in a maelstrom of panicked babbling. 'A convent. I can enter a convent, and never see either of them again. Wait, Jewish/Wiccan here. Okay, so a convent's out. A mountain in Nepal sounds good. Far, far away and secluded is what I need. Oh, sure I'll eventually make friends with the wild yaks. I'll name them Larry, Moe, Curly, and Shemp, and tell them stories about life on the Hellmouth. Then I'd be known in the little village at the bottom of the mountain as the crazy yak lady.' A semi-hysterical giggle/sob escaped her; Cordy cast a concerned look down at her trembling friend.
Wesley had slipped out of the room to gather the ingredients for the spell. She assumed he ended the party as well, since the music stopped suddenly. Her perfect party had gone to pot. Cordelia caught movement from the corner of her eye, and braced for the impact. Spike had finally broken away from Buffy.
He was at Willow's side, trying to make her look at him. "Red, this is bloody ridiculous. I don't give a fuck what that ponce says. What I feel has nothin' to do with any soddin' saliva."
Xander stepped in and pushed Spike away from Willow. "Back off, Captain Peroxide." He moved to stand between the vampire and his best friend. "I don't know what little mind games you played to seduce her, but if you think I'm letting you near her again, you're crazy."
A small hand rested on Xander's arm, silencing his tirade. He looked into defeated green eyes. "Please, just stop, Xand," she whispered. "I can't do this tonight."
Willow turned her attention to the two vampires in the room. "I'm going back to Sunnydale after the ritual." She held up a hand to forestall their protests. "I can't deal with this right now, and I can't deal with it being around the two of you, while I...deal with it. I...I just need..." She waved her hands helplessly, at a loss for words.
"Time," Buffy supplied softly.
Willow shot a weak, but grateful smile at her friend. "Yeah. That."
"Red," Spike began to protest. Angel's hand gripped his arm. The blond glanced over his shoulder. His gaze held a hint of panic when he saw the resignation in his grand-sire's eyes. "We can't just let her..."
"We have to let her go, Spike," he whispered. "It's just for a little while."
The blond's shoulders slumped. Their witch wore her resolve face, marred though it was by her quivering lower lip. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, and beat the living shit out of Wussy the Watcher for giving her those doubts he could see dancing behind her eyes. His Red was a little thought machine, though, and he knew she would process everything a thousand times over before she came to terms with it all. His head swiveled back toward her.
"Willow, I lo..."
"Don't!" Her eyes glimmered with tears, and she choked out the words. "Please don't say it Spike. Not now...please."
The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, which was broken when the door opened. In walked Anya, smiling and chipper.
"Wow. It was great to catch up with Ginlong. We haven't seen each other since Louis XIV's reign. We ran into each other in, well gee, I guess around 1700. It was right after the Spanish king died, and Spain dropped into the lap of Louis' grandson. Let me tell you, people were *so* not happy about that..."
Anya paused to look around at the subdued group. "Did I miss something?"
~~~*~~~
Half an hour later, the group gathered in the empty lobby around a large circle. Wesley anointed Willow's forehead with a mixture of herbs and oils. A copper bowl sat between them with a foul-smelling assortment of ingredients. Willow watched numbly as Wesley read aloud from his notebook. The words and language were not familiar to her as he chanted in a low, but steady voice. He held aloft a pitcher, and let its amber fluid fall into the bowl to mix with the crushed items.
His chanting stopped and Wesley raised the bowl to Willow, which she grasped in both hands. Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she held her breath and downed the vile concoction. Wesley again chanted briefly, and smeared more of the anointing solution on her temples and forehead. He leaned forward and snuffed the candles surrounding them.
"We're done," he said softly, breaking the circle of sand surrounding them with his hand.
Willow's face puckered and a shudder ran through her body. "Uggghhhh! That was horrible."
"What was in that stuff, anyway, Wes," Buffy asked as she waved a hand before her face. "I can smell it all the way over here."
"Well, there was a bit of sage, crushed ginger root, dried eye of newt, crushed into powder form, of course..."
"Please," Willow interrupted. "I'd like to keep it down, but if you list the rest of the ingredients, I may have to throw it back up." She laid a hand on her churning stomach, and swallowed loudly.
"Of course. I'm quite sorry, Willow."
She looked at the former Watcher, and realized he was talking about more than just the nasty cure she just drank. "It's okay, Wes. It's not your fault."
"Soooooo," Xander clapped his hands together and rocked on the balls of his feet.
"I need to pack," Willow shrugged, "then we can leave. There's not much."
"I'll help you," Buffy offered.
She took her friend's hand and the two walked upstairs to gather Willow's belongings.
Anya looked at those still gathered around. "Well, this is one of those quiet and uncomfortable silences I've read about, isn't it?"
"Not in the mood, Demon Girl," Spike muttered. He rested his arm on the window frame, and stared out into the dark night.
Anya crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at the two brooding vampires. "Not in the mood? Well, excuse me if your little fling is ending before you were ready."
A low growl escaped Spike as he turned to face her. "It. Is. Not. A. Fling."
Xander stepped in front of his girlfriend, seeing the violence in Spike's eyes. "Listen here, Blondie. I don't believe a word you say. After the whole Adam incident, why should I? You hurt Wills, so in my book, that puts you back into the enemy category."
Cordelia watched Spike's face fall into an emotionless mask. "Xander, shutting up would be a good idea right about now."
He looked at his ex-girlfriend. "No way, Cordy. I'm not done yet." He turned his attention back to Spike. "Don't come back to Sunnydale. If I so much as see you sniffing around her garbage, I'll stake you on site."
A roar filled the room, and Xander found himself pinned against the wall by a very angry Angel. "Harris, you don't come into *my* home, and threaten *my* childe. On top of that, you shouldn't talk about things you don't understand."
Anya was behind Angel, beating his back with her fists. "Stupid ineffectual human strength! Get off of my boyfriend, you big, glowery vampire!"
Cordy placed her fingers between her lips and let out a high-pitched whistle, causing both vampires to cover their sensitive ears. "Sorry," she apologized to them. "Enough! Xander, Anya, back off. Maybe it would be best if you waited in the car for Willow and Buffy. Angel, no killing Xander, tempting though the thought may be. Spike, just go back to brooding. I'm going to check on Willow, and see how goes the packing. Wesley, don't let anyone kill each other while I'm gone. Got it? Good!" She spun away and stomped up the stairs to find the redhead.
Wesley nervously walked toward where Angel still stood threateningly over Xander. "Angel, I believe it would be for the best if you released him. Willow doesn't need to be upset any further tonight, wouldn't you agree?"
The vampire snarled and pushed away from the wall. Anya ran to Xander, checking him over for injuries. Xander's eyes were wide as he stared at Angel. "Angelus?" He whispered.
"Permanent Soulage party, you twit," Spike sneered.
"Then why is he defending you? Huh? Explain that to me, because the last time I checked Angel wasn't your biggest fan." Xander rubbed his throat where the vampire had been holding him.
"Things change," Angel murmured. "We've made our peace."
"Apparently enough to share my best friend," he grumbled.
"Mr. Harris, I do suggest you quite shut up before I forego Cordelia's instructions and allow Angel to kill you," Wesley snapped.
Anya grabbed her boyfriend's hand and tugged him toward the front door. "Xander, let's wait in the car. I think that sounds like a great idea. Uh, great party. Sorry it had to end so soon, and your little sexfest had to come to a sudden grinding stop. Tell Buffy and Willow we'll be waiting in the car, far away from the violent tendencies of those two," she nodded toward Spike and Angel. She tugged a reluctant Xander out the front door.
The three men stood in silence for another ten minutes before the women made their way down the staircase. The vampires focused on the redhead between the Slayer and the seer. Her eyes were red and puffy, obviously from crying. Spike wanted to kill something, and then hold her forever and comfort her. Angel just wanted to skip right to the holding and comforting.
"Well," Buffy began. "Ummm, I guess we'll be going now. Where are..."
"Waiting in the car," Wesley supplied.
"Smart move," Cordy muttered.
"Red," Spike said softly. He moved closer, but when she shook her head 'no', he stopped.
"Not now, Spike," she whispered.
Wesley stepped forward and grabbed one of her bags. "Let me help you with that," he offered.
He and the women walked out of the hotel and into the night. Spike and Angel watched from the door as they made their way through the courtyard.
"We're losing her, Sire," said Spike softly.
"We'll get her back. We just have to wait a while," Angel murmured.
"I was never good at waiting. You know that."
"Restraint of a three year old, yeah, I remember. Think of it this way, Spike. Was there ever anything this important worth waiting for?"
A small smirk caused the blonde's lips to twitch. "No, I don't suppose there was. So, we're waiting, then?"
Angel nodded as the figures disappeared into the darkness. "We're waiting."
~Part: 42~
The ride back to Sunnydale was the longest form of living hell Willow had ever experienced.
"If they come near you again, Wills, I'll...I'll..."
"You'll what, Xander? Take on Angel?" Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Well, at least I know I can take Spike. One chip plus vampire equals a stakeable vamp. He'll be one liiiiitle tiny dust pile when I get through with him. There won't even be enough left to vacuum up." Xander held his index finger and thumb close together to indicate how much of his least favorite bleached blond vampire would remain.
Anya looked in the rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of Willow with her forehead pressed against the window, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Who's up for a road trip song?" She cheerily offered.
Buffy glared at the former demon. "One more rollicking chorus of 99 Bottles of Beer, Anya, and I won't be held responsible for my actions."
Xander was not to be distracted. "I still don't understand how you, of all people, could fall for their lines of crap, Wills. You're smarter than that. I'm just glad we got there when we did. I can just see it now. One day the bleached blunder or Deadboy loses control and sucks you dry. What the hell were you thinking?"
Buffy glanced out of the corner of her eye at her silent best friend. She saw Willow's face reflected in the window. Two silvery tear tracks stained her cheeks as her eyes remained tightly closed. Her shoulders rose and fell with quietly controlled deep breaths. It was taking everything for her to hold her sobs in, Buffy realized. She met Anya's worried gaze in the mirror.
"That's enough, Xander," the Slayer quietly whispered. She reached out a tentative hand and placed it on Willow's trembling shoulder.
"What? I'm just saying..."
"Twenty Questions? Now that's a fun game, and you were so good at it Buffy," Anya enthused while trying to shut up her boyfriend.
"Why don't you guys want to talk about this? I think this needs to be talked about." Xander glared at his girlfriend, then finally glanced over his shoulder. He stumbled to a halt, seeing the pain and sadness clearly etched on the redhead's face. "Wills, I'm sorry," he continued in a softer voice, "but honestly, how could you even think about..."
"Xander, enough!" Buffy glared at him, and pulled the girl into her arms. "That's enough. No more right now," she finished quietly. She felt arms circle her waist, and felt her friend's tears dampen her shoulder. She stroked Willow's hair gently, and tried to lend comfort to the heartbroken girl.
Xander faced front again and thankfully held his tongue for the remainder of the trip home.
~~~*~~~
It was a somber group that entered the outskirts of Sunnydale. Willow stared blankly at the sign welcoming all weary travelers to their happy little Hellmouth. She would be home soon, and she could crawl into her bed, pull the covers over her head and never, ever, ever come out. She was tired, her eyes were scratchy and swollen from crying, and she could really use a tissue. More than any of that, though, she felt stupid, alone and empty.
Xander had been right. What had she been thinking? That two gorgeous men would fall all over themselves for little ol' Willow Anne Rosenberg? Didn't high school teach her anything? Didn't Oz's desertion serve up a perfect lesson on a silver platter? No man wanted her. Yep, crawling into her bed and remaining there indefinitely was sounding better and better.
When they arrived at the dorm Xander got out to help unload the trunk. Willow took two small bags while Buffy hefted the larger suitcase. The redhead turned to walk into her dorm and found herself face to chest with her oldest friend. She didn't look up at him, and wasn't ready to meet his eyes. She felt a soft kiss on the top of her head, and his arms encircled her for a quick, but heartfelt hug.
"I'm glad you're home Willow. I missed you," he whispered.
She felt her eyes tear up, and after briefly returning the embrace, she spun and hurried into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the entry hall. Buffy followed at a more sedate pace, calling her thanks over her shoulder to Anya and Xander.
By the time she reached their shared dorm room, Willow was already in her comfy gown, an oversized nightshirt that once reached mid-calf, but after excessive washing and drying, had been shrunk to just above the knee. It was fluffy, orange, and just what the redhead needed to comfort her. She grabbed her shower caddy and towel.
"I'm going to grab a quick shower before bed," she murmured.
As she walked toward the door, the Slayer's hand reached out and grabbed her arm. "Wills?"
Willow squeezed her eyes against another wave of tears. "Please, Buffy. I just...I just want a shower."
"Yeah, I get that. But if you need anything...anything at all. To talk, or not to talk. Chocolate or a shoulder to cry on, well, I'm here for you. You know that, right?" Buffy looked at her best friend, worry evident on her face.
"Yeah, I know. Right now though, all I want is to take a shower, and then to crawl in bed for a couple semesters."
"Whatever you need, Will. I'll be here when you're ready to talk."
Willow sighed softly. "Thanks, Buffy. Ummm, shower now." She wiggled her way out of the Slayer's grasp and exited their room. She shuffled down the hall to the bathrooms and climbed into an empty shower stall.
Hanging her nightgown on a hook outside the curtain, she turned on the water, and gasped when the first cold droplets fell on her body. The shock seemed to jar something within her. Willow thanked the Goddess that the bathroom was so empty on a Friday night as she leaned her head against the tiled wall.
The water grew warmer and eventually hot enough for her to adjust by adding a bit of cold. As it sluiced down her back, she felt the emotions churning within her mind, within her heart, body and soul. The pain lanced through her, and she inhaled sharply on a sob.
Goddess, she could still smell them on her. She could feel them touching her, in her, loving her. No, not really loving. It was never about love, she reminded herself. They'd been fooled just as she had. Her fingers grazed the latest bite marks from her former lovers. This is what it had been about. Her blood, and only her blood. Never about Willow. Never about love.
Sobs choked her, and she found herself gasping for breath between each. Willow braced her hands on the cold tile, slippery with condensation as hot steam filled the closed-in space. Shoulders hunched, she cried brokenly, letting loose all of the pain that she'd held in before her friends. Yes, she had cried in Buffy's arms, but this uncontrolled release is what she truly needed.
Willow let the memories rush over her. That morning with Angel when he claimed her, and his puppy dog eyes as he apologized. Spike's violent reaction to it all, which lead to the heated exchange in her own room that ended with the blond collapsed on top of her, his mark obscuring the other. Spike feeding her in a way so that she knew she'd never look at a strawberry the same ever again. Waking up with Angel wrapped around her body. Their touches, their kisses, their hugs and snuggles. None of it was real. The words weren't real, and neither were the emotions...at least not on their end.
The redhead slid down to the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around herself as she cried out her grief for two loves lost that she'd never been meant to have.
~~~*~~~
It was late when Spike returned to the Hyperion. Make that early. Sunrise was minutes away. The lobby was dark as he entered, brushing off the last of the dust from the group of vampire's he'd used to vent his frustrations.
"You had me worried, William," Angel's voice rumbled from the shadows.
"Shouldn'ta been. As ya can see, I'm in one piece." The vampire descended the lobby steps and wandered toward the sounds of his grand-sire's voice. He leaned against the front desk and peered across it at his fellow brooder.
"It's quiet without her," Angel sighed.
"Too quiet. I already miss her." He withdrew a new cigarette and flicked open his lighter. The flame flared, highlighting his cheekbones as his eyes squinted against the brightness.
Angel nodded his agreement, and both men stood in silence for a while.
"So how many did you take out?"
"Seven. Don't make fledges like they used to. No bloody challenge at all."
"Yeah."
The vampires let the silence descend upon them again.
"When can we go get her, Peaches?" Spike softly asked.
"When it's time, William. When she's ready to believe. It's late, and it's been a long night. I'm going to bed."
Spike dropped his cigarette to the floor and ground it out with the heel of his boot. "Yeah." He watched Angel begin to ascend the stairs. "Good night's sleep. Makes everythin' seem better, right?" He followed the dark vampire up the steps. When they reached the hallway with the doors on opposite sides, Spike looked around awkwardly.
"Guess this is my stop, then. Night, Poof." He turned to enter the room he had shared with Willow before they all moved into Angel's suite. Spike felt a firm hand on his shoulder turn him back to face his grand-sire.
"You don't have to sleep in there, Spike. There's plenty of room in here," Angel offered, nodding his head in the direction of his own rooms.
"Yeah, well..." Spike looked at everything in the hallway but Angel. "Guess it wouldn't hurt...your bed bein' more comfortable than mine and all."
Both men entered the suite and walked into the bedroom. The scent of their earlier interlude with Willow filled sensitive nostrils. Spike closed his eyes against the feeling of loss, and instead concentrated on remembering her breathy moans as she called his name. Angel stared at the rumpled sheet and comforter, and pictured their redhead sprawled across them, flushed with passion.
Spike and Angel stripped silently, and crawled under the covers once they had been rearranged. They each lay on their backs staring at the ceiling.
"Think Red's okay?" Spike asked.
"I hope so. I know she was hurt when she left. What she must be thinking..."
"I know."
They stared at the ceiling for a few minutes longer. Spike's throat began to work, swallowed, and tried to get rid of the burning behind his eyes. "I love her, Sire," he whispered brokenly.
"So do I William." Angel turned his head to stare at the smaller man who was trying so valiantly to control his emotions.
"I can't lose her. I won't." Spike slammed his fist against the mattress. "I just won't! I'm bloody tired of bein' love's bitch. I won't let her go."
Angel reached over and pulled the blond into his embrace. Spike struggled at first, then buried his face in the older vamp's neck, his arms moving to circle his waist, clutching him for comfort.
"We won't. We'll get her back. I swear it."
Angel and Spike shifted into a more comfortable position, with the dark vampire spooning the blond from behind. Both fell asleep with visions of fiery hair and dewy green eyes flashing behind their lids.
~Part: 43~
The next few weeks passed slowly for Willow. She ate, slept, studied and researched. Beyond those times she never left her dorm room. She knew her friends were becoming concerned about her new antisocial behavior, but she couldn’t take the pitying looks from Anya and Giles, or the lectures from Xander that he never intended to sound like lectures. Buffy alternated between looking sympathetic and disgusted in the beginning, but both of those had faded recently into motherly concern that was simply smothering after all the years she had basically been motherless. Riley and Dawn were the only two who made any attempt to treat her like ‘Willow’. Just ‘Willow’. She missed that.
She was aware she was no longer just ‘Willow", however. Her time in LA had changed her drastically. Regardless of the reversal spell, she came to realize that she truly was in love with both Angel and Spike. Her heart and body ached for them more and more each day. Neither vampire had tried to contact her since her sudden departure from the Hyperion. It was a sad realization for Willow that while time allowed her to process and sort her feelings enough to conclude she was in love, it also showed that apparently Spike and Angel were not.
Every day they were apart made her want them more. Every day without any contact from them shattered her heart just a bit further. Her hope was fading that they would start to miss her. Not just her blood, mind you, or the sex...although that was nice too. Willow hoped they would miss their quiet late night talks cuddled under Angel’s comforter. Or maybe they would be on the roof staring at the stars, and remember the night all three stayed out until almost dawn while she and Angel pointed out different constellations. Did they miss curling up to her warm body the way she craved feeling their coolness against her? Didn’t they miss their snuggles? Their quiet times?
Willow peered around the room. Everyone was gathered at the Magic Box researching. Even Xander had his head buried in some musty old book Giles placed in front of him after removing the box of Ho-Ho’s from her friend’s reach. It was obviously a *very* old and musty book for Giles to risk doing so.
She glanced down at her laptop. Her organizer was open; she counted the blocks marked in red and sighed. Thirty-six days. Thirty-six days without Angel and Spike. She wondered if the sense of loss would ever fade, or would this leave a big, old black hole in her heart forever?
*********************************************
"Thirty-six days! Thirty-six freakin’ days! What is wrong with you two?"
Cordelia halted her combined pacing and ranting to glare at the two subdued vampires sitting on separate sides of the desk in Angel’s office.
"She needs time, Delia," Angel murmured for what seemed like the thousandth time.
"Time my right foot...and my left one too! She’s been gone over a month and neither of you can take the time to pick up a phone to call and see how she’s doing?" The seer tapped her foot impatiently as she lectured centuries old vampires like she would a kindergarten class.
"Red didn’t want us to call. She said she couldn’t deal with it." Spike squinted up at the cloud of smoke leaving his mouth.
"You know, I used to think the whole brooding thing was because of the soul." Cordy glared between the two men. "I didn’t realize it was genetic. Must be in the blood, because you two are the biggest and broodiest vampires I have *ever* laid eyes on. If you don’t get your undead butts in gear and go get her, you *will* lose her."
"Cordelia, perhaps it isn’t our place to interfere..." Wesley began.
"It’s not our place?" She turned the former watcher with fire in her eyes. "I have watched these two sit here and whine, pout and sulk for the last month. If they want her, they should at least let her know, and not let her rot in Sunnydale thinking they don’t care!"
"Said she wanted time," Spike mumbled. He flicked the ashes from his cigarette into a nearby empty bottle of whiskey.
Cordy rounded on the blond. "Yes, time. Time to get her thoughts and her heart straight, not more time than in between my credit card bills. You know, just because you’re vampires and have all the time in the world to get your lives straightened out doesn’t mean that we mortals do. This month may seem like a blip on the radar to you morons, but to Willow I’ll bet it seems like an eternity."
Spike and Angel exchanged glances. Could she be right? Did they let too much time pass? Doubt clouded each of their gazes. What if they still hadn’t let enough time pass?
"We’ll think about what you said, Cordy," Angel said slowly. He glanced at his grand-childe again. How could he tell her that what they both feared the most was contacting Willow and finding out she didn’t want them anymore? What if she was so embarrassed by what happened she never wanted to even see them again?
She stared at the vampires in disbelief. "You’ll *think* about it? That’s *it*? That’s your answer?"
"That’s what the man said, Cheerleader. Now, if you don’t mind, Peaches and I were in the middle of a conversation before the two of you barged in. Don’t let the door hit you in the arse on the way out."
Delia threw her hands up in the air, with an aggravated ‘Aaaarrggggg!’ She stomped out of the room with an apologetic Wesley closing the door after them.
After the footsteps faded, Spike turned to Angel. "Is she right? Have we waited too long?"
Angel shook his head cautiously. "Nooooo, I don’t think so. Willow’s complex. I think it will take her a while to figure out what she wants."
Spike nodded his agreement. There were times the Poof made sense. "You’re right. We’re not waiting too much longer though, are we Sire?" Plaintive blue eyes pleaded with the brunette. "It’s too bloody quiet without her. I miss her."
Angel offered a small smile. "Not too much longer, Spike. I promise. Maybe we’ll give her another month or so. That should be plenty of time."
At the receptionist desk, Cordelia resisted growling at the recently installed intercom that let her listen in on her boss’ conversation. Stupid men. How difficult was it for them to understand someone as insecure as Willow? If they want her, they have to go get her. Thank God they had her around to kick their undead butts into gear. Now all she needed was a plan.
~Part: 44~
Four days later Angel was sorting through his monthly bills when he heard a shriek of pain from the lobby. He ran out to find Wesley cradling a shaken Cordelia in his arms on the floor. Spike sauntered downstairs, taking in the scene.
"Got somethin’ for me to go kill, luv?" Spike asked as he made his way to her side.
Angel grabbed a glass of water and some aspirin from her desk along with a pen and tablet. Cordy took the medication and water with a grateful look at her boss. Downing all three tablets in one swallow, she placed the glass on the floor with a shaking hand. She held her head and rocked slowly in Wesley’s arms, moaning in apparent pain.
"Cordy, what did you see?" Angel asked softly. "Do you know the location? The demon?"
"Willow," she rasped while rubbing her temples.
Spike immediately perked up at her name. "Red? What about her? Is...is she coming to LA?"
From beneath her lashes Cordelia could see the hope etched on both vampires’ faces and hated to burst their bubble. "No. Sunnydale. Main Street, just off of Elm. There’s a vampire attack. You have to hurry."
"A vampire attack?" Angel’s eyes widened as her words sunk in. "A vampire is going to attack Willow?"
"Yes," Cordy nodded, then winced as if the pain in her skull reminded her to remain still. "Two of them. They felt old and powerful. Hurry."
Angel rose to his feet. "I’ll call Buffy and warn her. She can keep an eye on Willow until we get there."
His seer weakly slapped him in his calf from her position on the floor. "You! Go now! Wesley can call Buffy, but you both need to hurry. I don’t know if even Buffy can fight two vampires that felt so powerful."
"Right!" Spike was halfway to the door. "I’ll drive."
"I want to get there in one piece, thank you very much," Angel argued. "I’ll drive."
"And I’d like to get there in time to save Red from being some bloke’s dinner. Get your arse into gear, Peaches. We’ve got our witch to save, and just suck it up, because I’ll get us there faster than you in your great Poof-mobile."
Spike was already out of the door as his last words faded in the room. Angel hurried after him, then turned around and walked backwards to the door while pointing at Wesley. "Call Sunnydale. Give them fair warning, and tell Buffy and Giles to find Willow and keep her safe until we can get there."
Wesley nodded his agreement. "Right. I’m on it."
He struggled to help a weakened Cordelia to the couch as the door slammed shut behind their boss. He fluffed pillows behind her, then turned to head toward the phone in Angel’s office.
"Wesley, where are you going?" Cordy called.
"You heard Angel, Cordelia. I’m calling Mr. Giles to warn him of the danger to Miss Rosenberg."
He looked shocked as she began laughing. "I don’t see the humor in the matter at all. Willow is in grave danger."
"Wesley, the only danger Willow is going to face is that of two overprotective master vampires when they get to town." Her eyes shone with a wicked glint of amusement.
Wesley paused and stared at her, an idea slowly forming in his head. "What did you do, Cordelia?"
"Who, moi?" She asked innocently. "Oh, not much. Just faked a vision to get the Brood Brothers off their collective asses, and point them in the right direction to get Willow back." She stood easily, all traces of the pain she previously exuded gone.
"You...you...you *faked* a vision?" Wesley looked shocked and appalled.
"Well, yeah. I think The Powers will forgive me for this little misuse of power. After all," she smiled, "it’s all in the name of love. And that stupid agent said I couldn’t act."
~~~*~~~
On the fortieth day after her return to Sunnydale, Willow opened her organizer and wiped out the red blocks. There was no sense in counting when it was obvious they were never coming for her. Why depress herself by tallying the number of days since she’d been with the vampires she loved? How weird was her life?
It was time to put the past behind her and move on. Willow straightened her shoulders and closed her laptop. She was a strong modern-day girl. She didn’t need men to make her complete. She had school...and her friends...and her Scooby duties. Her shoulders slumped. What she wouldn’t give for a vampire snuggle right about then.
No, no, no! She sat up straight again. She could do this. She would move on, and be happy Willow again. She would be self-confident Wicca Willow, sidekick to the slayer and all-around best pal and research girl...even if it meant she would be a little lonely.
Sighing, she stood and grabbed her book bag. After checking to make sure her stash of stakes, holy water and crosses were all present and accounted for, she headed out into the night for an evening of research and caloric goodies provided courtesy of Xander.
~Part: 45~
The drive to Sunnydale was dizzying for Angel. Between his spinning thoughts and Spike’s reckless driving, he was amazed they made it far enough to see the ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign. He let out a yell as Spike determinedly drove right over the somehow offensive post.
"What the hell did you do that for?" He snarled at his companion.
"Tradition," the blond mumbled offhandedly. His mind was a few miles away yet. ‘Gotta get to Red. Gotta get there in time. I can’t lose her now. *We* can’t lose her. She’s *ours*, and I don’t care how old and powerful these gits are, they’re not gettin’ my Red. I’ll rip their fuckin’ heads off and shove them down their throats if they lay one hand on her.’
"Spike, calm down," Angel coaxed.
The blond turned his head and stared at his grand-sire in confusion. If he’d had a reflection, he would have noticed his fangs and ridges in full effect. His eyes glowed amber, and his demon howled inside him at the thought of someone hurting the woman it viewed as its mate.
"What the bloody hell are you talking about, Peaches?" He snarled.
"Put your face away, and save it for later. If these vampires are really as old as Cordelia said they are, we might want to have Giles check out the diaries to find out who we’re dealing with. We left in such a hurry we forgot to get a description."
Spike reined in his anger and shifted back to his human face. "Right. Wussy probably got details to Rupert when he called. Bet he’s got the whole crew researchin’ their Scooby arses off."
Angel nodded as Spike slowed his speed through the heart of Sunnydale. He watched the familiar sites pass by as they drove toward The Magic Box. Hopefully the Sunnydale gang got their message in time. So far he hadn’t experienced any anxiety through the slight bond he had with the redhead, and he didn’t think Spike did either, or else his grand-childe wouldn’t be so calm...well, calm for Spike.
They pulled up to a small store that Angel recognized as once being ‘Merlin’s Cauldron’ when he had resided in Sunnydale. They quickly exited the DeSoto and ran into the shop. The bell jangled noisily overhead at the force of their entrance, and the sight that greeted them confused the vampires.
Xander stood behind the counter running a feather duster over the cases as Anya restocked some crystals. Dawn sat at the table doing her homework, if the paperback version of Gulliver’s Travels was any indication. Everything seemed exceedingly normal, which worried Angel more than anything.
Xander waved his hot pink feather duster around to everyone in general as he glared at the new entrants. "Did anyone else get the whole Caped Crusader entrance vibe, or was it just me? What’s the matter, Batman? Did the Commissioner send up the Bat-Signal for you and the Boy Wonder there?"
Dawn looked up and squealed. She ran forward, throwing her arms around Spike. "It’s so good to have you back. You are back, aren’t you? You’re not going away again, right?"
Spike lightly patted her on the head, cringing at the amusement in his grand-sire’s eyes. "Here on a vision, Niblet. Why aren’t the lot of you hauling out the dusty books and researching?"
Buffy and Giles entered from the training room. "Researching what?" The Slayer asked. She looked suspiciously at the two vampires who had done more to break her best friend’s heart than Oz ever did.
Angel looked surprised at her question. "Researching the vampires Cordy saw in her vision. Did you find out who they were already?"
Giles removed his glasses and rubbed a clean white handkerchief over the already sparkling surface. "Angel, I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific. Which vampires are we looking for exactly?"
Spike growled his outrage at their cavalier attitude. "The vampires the Cheerleader saw attackin’ Red. And where is she anyway? You were supposed to be protectin’ her ‘til we got here, Slayer."
Chaos erupted. Xander, Buffy, Giles and Dawn all chimed in questioning the vampires about the danger to Willow. Over the shouted demands for answers, Spike and Angel’s eyes met. Taking a breath he normally wouldn’t have used, Spike let loose an earsplitting whistle to silence the group.
"Watcher, did Wussy call you with the Cheerleader’s vision, or didn’t he?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he saw the confusion on Giles’ face.
"Well, no. I haven’t spoken with *Wesley*," he stressed the former watcher’s true name. "What is this about vampires attacking Willow?"
Once again the vampires exchanged glances. "Cordelia," Angel growled.
~~~*~~~
Willow walked quickly down the street, glancing over her shoulder now and then. She had a bad feeling. One of those, dark, foreboding, oogie feelings, and she could almost swear someone was watching her. That kind of paranoia could possibly get you locked up elsewhere, but in Sunnydale, it might just keep you alive.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid, Willow," she mumbled to herself. She glanced at the dark shadows around her. She knew better than to walk the streets of the Hellmouth at night without Buffy or Riley, with one of his nifty leftover weapons from the Initiative.
She was about halfway down Second Avenue when she thought she heard a twig snap somewhere behind her. Willow gulped, then hurried her pace a bit more. She reached into her bag. The feel of the smooth stake grasped in her hand was only minutely comforting. At the corner of the next block, she veered left. Normally she wouldn’t go to The Magic Box this way, but with the possibility of someone or something tailing her, she wanted to get into the bright lights of Main Street as soon as possible. Walking as quickly as she was, she never even bothered to look up at the corner’s street post. Elm Street, the scene of Cordelia’s concocted vision.
~Part: 46~
Angel slammed the phone down angrily. He didn’t like to be manipulated, and Angelus liked it even less. He and Spike had been taken for a ride by Cordelia. He wanted to kick himself for letting her reel him in so easily. She wasn’t even a good actress. Angel turned to Spike, glowering at the blond.
He snarled between gritted teeth, "She lied. There was no vision. It was all just a ruse to get us here, to Sunnydale...to Willow."
Spike felt the fool. "That bloody bint. Wait until I get my hands around her neck. I’ll squeeze her throat until her eyeballs pop out, and...aaaarrrggggg!" He gripped his head as the chip fired warning shots into his brain center.
Buffy glared at the vampires and stepped forward to roughly poke a finger against Angel’s chest. "The only reason you’re here is because Cordy had a vision? That’s it? Now you listen to me, Angel. If you’re not here to get down on your knees and beg Willow’s forgiveness for being the biggest idiots on the planet, then take your undead asses back to LA before she sees you. I won’t have you getting her hopes up, only to have you shoot them down again. It’s bad enough she’s moped around here for over a month over the two of you..."
"She moped? Over us?" Angel asked hopefully.
Dawn rolled her eyes at complete ignorance of men, both living and...well, not living. "Duh! She loves you goobers. Anyone can see that. She’s been all sighs and sad smiles since she got back."
A glimmer of hope entered Spike’s eyes. "She does? She has?"
"For being such old vampires, you both seem very stupid," Anya stated astutely.
"And blind," Xander added under his breath.
"Yes! Very blind as well," Anya cheerfully agreed. "It was men like you that kept me busy with vengeance wishes for over a millennia."
Spike felt an odd sensation wash over him. It was as if someone ran an icy finger down the back of his spine. He frowned his unease. "Peaches?"
All parties ignored him, instead concentrating on analyzing the vampires’ intentions toward Willow.
"Do you love her?" Giles asked calmly as he stepped closer to Angel. He peered into his face, ready to dig out the truth.
The dark vampire met his searching gaze. "We both do, Rupert."
Xander’s agitation with Angel and Spike couldn’t be contained any longer. He waved the feather duster angrily; dust flew everywhere and caused Anya to cough. "Then why haven’t you called her? Not one call, not one letter, not even one e-mail. Listen up, Deadboy. Will deserves a helluva lot better than the two of you."
The sense of unease grew in Spike as Xander berated them. They obviously hadn’t handled the situation to the boy’s liking. He cracked his neck from side to side, trying to dislodge the cold sense of dread creeping over him, but he didn’t succeed. "Peaches," Spike tried to interrupt again.
Xander continued his rant, the hot pink duster held before him like a weapon. "You hurt her...so much." As he recalled the pain and loneliness he observed in his best friend’s eyes over the last month, his voice became choked. It then slowly rose in volume as his anger increased. "Wills doesn’t deserve that. I’m trying really hard right now to control myself, when all I want to do is stake your asses for treating her like some sort of used candy wrapper."
Giles’ lips quirked as he observed the angry young man. "Need I remind you, Xander, that you are holding a plastic feather duster and not a wooden stake."
Spike’s body tensed as the feelings of anxiety increased. "Angel," he tried again.
Xander was not to be interrupted. "I don’t care. I don’t know how...or why, but she really seems to care about you both. What is it with the women in my life and vampires? She loves you, and you both just *abandon* her!"
Angel considered the boy’s words. "We were trying to give her time," he said softly, uncertainty creeping into his tone.
Buffy gaped at both men. "She doesn’t *need* time. She already knows how she feels about you. She thought that after the effects of her blood wore off you didn’t want anything to do with her."
"Are you sure?" Angel asked, doubt clouding his eyes. "We didn’t want to rush her, or pressure her."
The Slayer snorted her disbelief, and Anya wrapped things up nicely in a neat little package. "You’re both idiots."
Spike gave up all pretenses of polite conversation as he roared, "Sire!"
All eyes in turned to the blond in surprise.
"Can’t you feel it?" He asked, intently staring at Angel.
Angel took in Spike’s appearance, noting his rigid stance. He stretched out his senses, and suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks. Through his bond with Willow he sensed her anxiety, her fear. His stomach clenched, and he raised his eyes to Spike’s. "Willow," he whispered.
~~~*~~~
0Willow let out a soft gasp of alarm when a tall man stepped into her path. She gazed upward, taking in his expensive-looking black pants, and neatly pressed charcoal shirt. Craning her neck as the man towered over her, she observed his eyes and hair seemed as dark as the night itself. His features were sharp and aquiline, giving him a classic Grecian appearance. It was his eyes that caught her attention. They were bottomless pits of glimmering evil.
"It’s not safe for such a pretty little thing as yourself to be walking these streets at night," he advised, stepping closer.
Willow took a step back for every one the stranger took closer. She didn’t know who or what he was, but the way he looked at her was making her nervous. "You know what? You’re absolutely right. It’s a dangerous town. Lots of gangs, lots of gangs on PCP. I think I’ll just hurry along to where I was heading...if that’s okay with you?" Her sentenced ended on a squeak as she felt herself run into something solid behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, Willow found that the object she collided with was another man. He had light brown hair and cold gray eyes. His dress was similar to the man stalking her.
"Hello, sweetheart," the new stranger greeted just before his face transformed into his vampire visage. "I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere."
~Part: 47~
Willow stared wide-eyed at the vampire before her as the other gripped her tightly from behind. She struggled to get her arms free from his ironclad grip, but was unsuccessful. In her battle to break lose, the only thing she accomplished was losing her grip on her bag. She cringed when she heard the bottle of holy water break as it hit the sidewalk.
The vampire before her stalked even closer, his body pinning her tightly between the two demons. ‘You radiate power, sweetheart. I wonder if you’ll taste as good as your aura promises."
He buried his face in her neck and inhaled. Confusion crossed his face. He tore the neckline of her shirt to one side, and roughly tilted her neck. In the dim light of the moon he saw what he was searching for.
"Who do you belong to?" He snarled.
Willow’s eyes widened as her panic-frozen mind processed his question. She trembled in their grasp, wondering if it was a good or bad thing the vampire found her healed bite marks.
"What are you talking about, Thomas?" The other demon questioned.
"The little witch has already been claimed. I want to know by whom." His voice lowered to a silky purr, which terrified Willow even more. The claim smelled strong even though the wound had healed. Only a master’s claim would linger for that long. He ran cold fingers over her cheek. "Who is your master, my little witch?"
His fingers tightened painfully around her jaw when she didn’t immediately respond. "Who?"
She whimpered in pain, knowing his fingers would leave bruises...providing lived long enough for bruises to form. "Sp...Spike...William the Bloody...and his Sire, Angelus," her voice quavered. She straightened her shoulders, attempting to put on a brave front. "They both claimed me," she stated boldly.
‘Oh, Goddess,’ she thought. ‘Please, please, please, let them recognize the names. If ever there was a time for Spike and Angel’s reputations to come in handy, let this be it.’
"Angelus, eh?" Thomas looked thoughtful. "Its been over a century since I’ve run into him. There were rumors that he’d been domesticated, turned into a lap dog for the Slayer."
"Pfffft!" Willow tried to look disgusted, but figured it turned out looking more like she had gas. "Angelus help the Slayer? That would be the day. He *hates* Buffy...Oops!" She bit her lower lip as she caught her slip.
"Steadman, it appears the pet of Angelus and William is on a first name basis with the Slayer. Isn’t that interesting?"
Steadman, the vampire still tightly grasping Willow, flashed a cold smile. "Interesting indeed. Now how is it that Angelus and William’s pet is so friendly with the enemy? Care to explain yourself my fiery little witch?" One hand slid up to finger a soft strand of her hair, while his other arm tightened even further around her.
Willow twitched nervously as she felt his fingers playing with her hair. "Friendly? Oh, yeah right," she stated sarcastically while rolling her eyes. Her voice rose to a higher pitch. "We just so happened to...uh, well, we went to high school together. The principle made me tutor her in French. Yeah, French...and chemistry 0too...cause, you know all brawn and no brain. Ptooey! I spit on the Slayer. Yeah. Me, the pet of Angelus and William the Bloody. I spit on the Slayer and...and...and all of her little do-gooders that follow her around like lost puppies. Saving the innocent, good deeds, and the side of right and light is just...well, ick! My masters and I laugh in the face of right," she declared self-righteously. "Ha! See, this is me laughing in the face of goodness. Ha! Ha!" Willow looked between the two vampires who didn’t appear to be buying into her whole spiel. "Ha-ha?"
Thomas grinned at her. "You amuse me, sweetness. I can see why Angelus and William are so taken with you. Perhaps you will lead us to their lair. I wouldn’t mind catching up with them. They always had such imaginations when they were in the mood for humans to amuse them," he whispered. His fingers finally released her chin and floated down to brush over the bite marks on her neck. "Maybe if I ask nicely enough they’d share with an old acquaintance, yes?"
Willow shivered in fear and disgust. She couldn’t even imagine any vampires other than Spike and Angel tasting her blood. How weird was her life when that was one of her thoughts during a life and death crisis?
"I don’t know, Thomas," Steadman murmured. His finger traced over the skin roughened by her scars. "They haven’t renewed their claim in some time from the looks of this bite. Maybe they’ve grown bored with her, left her up for grabs." He leaned into the other side of her neck and inhaled. "Mmmmm, ambrosia." His tongue ran over her soft skin.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Willow was finally able to wrench herself from the vampire’s grasp. She stood facing the two, cheeks flushed with anger, and her finger pointing between both Thomas and Steadman. "No touching the merchandise. My masters are very possessive...and I am *so* still keeping their attention. It just so happens that my blood tastes horrible. Oh boy, does it ever. It comes from eating too many grapefruits and granny smith apples. Yeah, sour. Sour blood. Yucky! It’s like drinking spoiled milk, well, except for no clumps. But, hey! Angelus and Spike would be really ticked off if they found out you were treating me like this, so just mind your manners...or, or, or I’ll sic my vampires on you."
"Quite the little fireball, aren’t you?" Steadman said softly while stalking Willow.
Her eyes darted around; they alit upon her bag sitting on the ground behind the vampires. Concentrating hard, she levitated two stakes. Her control with one was pretty good, but trying to handle both required a good bit of concentration on her part. Thomas just grabbed her as one of the stakes struck him in the back, and the other impaled Steadman. Unfortunately her aim was off, and neither vampire turned into a satisfying cloud of dust. Thomas’ lung had been pierced, not that he needed it anyway, but it was painful nonetheless. Steadman’s stake protruded from the back of his collarbone.
While both vampires were snarling and distracted with pain, Willow decided to put into action her sudden plan. She ran. Her feet pounded the sidewalk, and she didn’t bother looking back. She knew Thomas and Steadman wouldn’t give up now that she’d royally made them cranky. Her only chance was to get to the Magic Box, or run into Buffy just as she was starting her patrol. The store was several blocks up on Main Street. Willow only hoped she had distracted both demons enough to give herself a good head start.
Her hopes came crashing down just as she turned onto Main Street. She was grabbed from behind and slammed into the stone wall of the bank. Willow’s head spun as the hard surface both cracked against the back of her skull, and the air was forced from her lungs. She put her arms up, and weakly tried to push away the shadowy figures that swam before her eyes. Her head began to pound; in some distant corner of her mind, Willow wondered if they’d given her a concussion. She’d have to compare notes with Giles if she ever got out of this mess.
Thomas peered closely at the dazed witch. "You have been a very bad girl. I’m afraid you’ll have to be punished."
A voice growled from behind Thomas and Steadman, much to Willow’s relief. "Over my undead body, you soddin’ gits."
~Part: 48~
Thomas spun to face the two vampires standing several feet away. "Angelus! William! I haven’t seen you since Paris in, when was it, 1897? Interesting what you’ve done with your hair, William." He sounded almost jovial as he greeted them. "I was beginning to think the little witch was lying. So it’s true then? Is this little spitfire your pet?"
Angel recognized the vampires from their time in France over a century ago. Darla always loved to be fawned over, and the two idiots before him had been more than happy to bow down, scrape and grovel at her feet. Thomas and Steadman were their names, if he recalled correctly. When they found out she was The Master’s favorite child they couldn’t do enough to please her. They were young and power hungry at the time, no more than fifty years old back then, and looking to gain favor with the Aurelius line.
Now they had Willow pinned to the side of a building. She looked dazed and a little disheveled. Only Angel’s hand on Spike’s shoulder prevented him from lunging at their old acquaintances. "Our pet? Of course. Have you lost your sense of smell in your old age, Thomas, or did you just decide to ignore our claim," his silky voice purred.
There was a hint of steel underlying his polite tone that made Steadman gulp. He sensed Angelus’s displeasure at their trespass. "The bite is healed over. We thought her master had abandoned her."
Spike snarled at them both. "Not bloody likely, you ponce. Angelus and I had a bit of business out of town. We only just got back tonight. Now tell me, mate, are you going to release our girl there, or do we have to rip you open, then decorate your outsides with your entrails?"
Thomas’s eyes glinted at the not-so-subtle threat. His grip on Willow’s throat tightened a bit, leaving her clawing at his wrist. Her panicked eyes pleaded with Spike and Angel for help. "William, you always were the brash youngster, weren’t you? I see time hasn’t changed that. Hasn’t your Sire taught you that it’s not polite to threaten your elders?"
Angel surged forward with preternatural speed to crush the bones in Thomas’s wrist. "Then maybe you’ll accept a threat from me, my boy, considering I’m *your* elder. You don’t touch what’s mine."
Willow slid down the wall; her hand reached up to rub her bruised throat as her head pounded a rapid staccato beat upon her brain. Steadman backed away as Spike approached. He sensed the anger radiating off of the always unpredictable vampire, and wanted to steer clear of him. Spike crouched before Willow, seeming to completely ignore the other demon.
"Pet, are you okay?" He frowned when her eyes didn’t immediately focus.
Her hand slid from her throat to the back of her head. She winced as she ran fingers gingerly over the bump forming there. "My head," she rasped. Her fingers came away with traces of blood.
Spike focused on the girl before him. She had red marks along her jaw line and neck from one of the demons roughly handling her. He could smell the small amount of blood that spilled from her head. Spike raised her bloody fingers, and kissed them gently. "No one hurts my Red and gets away with it," he vowed softly.
Spike glanced over his shoulder to meet Angel’s eyes. Both had flecks of amber swirling amongst their human eye colors; their demons raged at the infraction of the two other vampires. Angel nodded, a silent signal that sent both of them into action. They attacked Thomas and Steadman, dragging the two demons into the shadows of Elm Street. Willow could hear the sounds of a battle raging as she stood on wobbly legs. She eased her way around the corner. In the dark she saw fists and feet flying, but her blurred vision and the rapid movements of the opponents prevented her from distinguishing between the good vamps and the bad vamps.
Spike and Angel fought Thomas and Steadman tooth and nail. It was a difficult fight, even with Thomas’s broken wrist. The bad guys weren’t your typical fledges. They both had a century and a half of experience beneath their belts. All four vampires were bruised and bloody, but the tide slowly began to turn in Spike and Angel’s favor as the battle continued.
Spike was in his element. He sneered as he attacked Steadman, slowly backing the older vampire against a fence. A spot of violence was just what he needed to work out the frustration and anger he felt at seeing Willow hurt. The demon before him was bleeding and staggering on his feet. It would have been a simple matter at that point to stake Steadman, but Spike felt he didn’t deserve an easy end. Pain and suffering were definitely called for in his estimation.
Angel was finally able to advance on a weakened Thomas. He pinned the younger vampire against a tree. Angel gripped the demon’s throat tightly. His amber eyes glowed with anger. "You’re old enough to know better, Thomas. You never touch what belongs to another master," he snarled.
Thomas’s eyes widened, and he clawed at the fingers squeezing his neck with his good hand. "I...I...I’m sorry, Angelus," he gasped. "We didn’t believe she belonged to you, and her power...it called to us."
"Do you swear not to touch what’s mine ever again?" Angel demanded.
Thomas nodded frantically. "I swear. Never again."
Angel thrust a stake into the vampire’s heart, and Angelus crowed in delight at the look of surprise on Thomas’s face. "Too little, too late, my boy," he stated grimly just before Thomas exploded in a cloud of dust.
Angel turned to find Spike repeatedly kicking a downed Steadman in the ribs. "You. Don’t. Touch. My. Red." Each word was punctuated with a bone-crunching kick.
Angel watched with satisfaction briefly, then turned his attention to an injured Willow who watched from the sidewalk. He hurried to her side, and held her tenderly while quickly checking for additional injuries. "Willow, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?"
She shook her head no, and peered over Angel’s shoulder. He could still hear Spike cursing Steadman behind him. He turned to look and saw the demon cowering on the ground in a fetal position. "Spike, enough! End it now," he ordered.
Rage radiated from the blond as he hovered over the broken body of Steadman. "They hurt her, Peaches," he hissed.
Angel pulled Willow gently to his body. "We have more important things to deal with than your need for revenge, Childe."
Spike growled and kicked the downed vampire again.
"Spike," Willow softly called to the incensed vampire.
He turned to see her staring at him. Their eyes locked, and Spike felt the overwhelming rage suddenly drain from his body. He bent over the downed vampire. "You’ll never have a chance to touch her again," he promised before slamming a stake through Steadman’s heart. The demon whimpered in relief that his torment was ending before he exploded into a cloud of dust. Spike pocketed his stake, and turned to walk back to Willow and Angel. He knelt next to his Sire and gently combed a stray strand of hair from the redhead’s face.
"Pet, are you all right?" His demon visage slipped away to reveal his human features.
Willow’s eyes looked hopeful, yet cautious at the same time. "You came? Why?" She was guarding her heart closely. It was tentatively pieced together at that moment, and if they broke it again there wouldn’t be enough Super Glue in the world to put it back together.
"Cheerleader had a vision," Spike whispered. "Said you were getting attacked."
"Oh," Willow whispered, disappointment clouding her features. "Well, uh, thanks for the rescue and all. I guess you’ll be heading back to LA now." She knew her heart was ready to shatter into a million pieces again. The redhead lowered her eyes so they couldn’t see the pain Spike’s words created.
Angel quickly tried to reassure her. "Well, Cordy had a vision, but she didn’t. You see, she knew we were being idiots." He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. His heart broke a little as he saw the sadness and loneliness glimmering in her eyes. "She understood more than we did. Willow, we’re so sorry."
Spike stroked a finger over her cheek tenderly, reveling in the silkiness of her warm skin. "We never didn’t want you, pet. We were just tryin’ to stay away, give you the time you needed to figure out if you wanted us or not. Apparently the Cheerleader decided we needed a nudge in the right direction."
Willow looked between the two, confusion wrinkling her brow. "Huh?"
Angel leaned closer and brushed a soft kiss over her forehead. "She faked a vision to get us to come to Sunnydale. She said that two strong vampires would attack you just off of Elm. We panicked, and headed here as soon as she told us. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt. I love you, Willow."
"Me too, Red. I don’t care a lick about your blood." Spike lightly nuzzled her cheek as his breath whispered over her skin. "It’s you I want, pet. Forever."
A tear trickled down Willow’s face. "You mean it? You love me? Really, the both of you, like Angel and Spike love me, Willow? You’re not just saying that because I’m sitting here ready to blubber like a big baby, are you?"
"Never, Little One," Angel whispered. He stroked the back of his finger over her cheek, wiping away her tears.
Willow smiled uncertainly at them, still guarding her heart a bit. She shifted in Angel’s arms, and the movement brought the pounding in her head back to the forefront of her consciousness. She moaned softly, then reached up to gingerly place her hand on the side of her head. Willow winced; it felt like even the roots of her hair hurt.
Spike’s brow furrowed as he noticed her pain. "Let’s get you out of here, Red. Get the Watcher to take a look at your noggin, eh? Not safe to be sittin’ out in the open and bleedin’ in this bloody town."
Angel agreed, and readily cradled Willow close. He lifted her into his arms as he stood. "You’re right...and I can’t believe I actually said that."
Willow giggled softly at the smirk on Spike’s face and the disbelief in Angel’s voice as they walked a short distance down the street and turned onto Main. Willow looked up and saw the sign post.
"Uh, guys, did you say Cordy *faked* a vision about me being attacked on Elm Street?"
Spike and Angel followed her gaze. Spike scowled at the street sign. "Peaches, you need to have a little chat with the Cheerleader."
Angel nodded slowly. "Check. No more ‘fake’ visions. Apparently the Powers don’t appreciate being used to further our love lives."
"Least she could do is fake a vision involving the three of us, a king-sized bed, silk scarves and a nice warmed bottle of massage oil." Spike waggled his eyebrows at them suggestively.
"Spike!" Willow protested while blushing up a storm.
A devilish smile spread over Angel’s face. "I’ll definitely have a talk with her, ASAP."
~Part: 48~
The bell over the door jangled as Angel carried Willow into the Magic Box. Spike closed the door behind them just as Anya looked up from her inventory clipboard.
"Gi-iles," she called out. "Spike and the big bully are back with Willow, and I think her legs might be broken. She’s not walking." She glared at Angel, remembering the way he had mistreated her Xander the last time they were in LA.
Willow rolled her eyes as Spike pulled out a chair for her to sit in. Angel was just lowering her into the seat when Giles and a girl the elder vampire didn’t recognize hurried from the back room, weapons in hand.
"Willow, thank God!" Giles exclaimed. "We were just going out to look for you." The Watcher laid his sword down on the table and crouched before her. "What happened?"
"Cheerleader’s fake vision turned out to be not so fake," Spike explained. "Two old acquaintances of me and Peaches were roughin’ her up when we found them. Took a nasty bump to her melon, she did. Have a look at it, would ya, Rupes?"
Angel took in the relatively empty shop. "Where is everyone?"
"After the way the two of you tore out of here, Buffy and Xander grabbed some weapons and went out looking for Willow, too," said Anya who had come over to stand next to the others.
"Didn’t look very hard," Spike grumbled.
"They just missed us, that’s all. Buffy and Xan know the way I normally come to the shop. Tonight I kinda zigged when I normally zag because I knew I was being followed. They’re probably still backtracking my normal route to the dorms..." Willow stopped her explanation, and hissed softly as Giles fingers made gentle contact with the cut and goose egg on the back of her head.
"Hey, now!" Spike stepped closer and frowned. "Careful there, Watcher."
"Hmmm," Giles parted Willow’s hair, and examined the injured area. "The cut isn’t that extensive, but there is a good sized knot forming."
"No! Really?" Spike mockingly held a hand to his chest, faking shock.
"Spike, can the sarcasm," Angel admonished. He held Willow’s hand as Giles finished his perusal of her injury.
"But Peaches, she’s hurt," Spike whined. He then turned to Giles. "Fix her. Make it stop hurtin’."
Giles rolled his eyes at the impatient vampire. "Of course. Anya, would you be so kind as to get the first aid kit from my office?"
The other girl had been silently standing by while watching the interaction between the group. She cleared her throat slightly, and before Anya could move she offered, "I could try a sm...sm...small healing sp...sp...spell," she offered.
Willow smiled weakly at her fellow wiccan. "Thanks, Tara. I’d really appreciate anything you could do. I think a marching band has taken up squatters’ rights in my head."
Tara hurried into the back supply room, then returned while grinding a mixture of oils and herbs with a mortar and pestle. "It’s a really simple spell," she said softly.
"Hey!" Anya protested. "You’re paying for that." She stepped closer to peer into the mortar and see what ingredients had been stolen from her inventory in order to start a mental tally.
"Anya, please," Giles admonished.
Tara stepped before Willow and coated her fingertips in the oil mixture. Gentle lines were drawn above her eyebrows, circles graced her temples, and seemingly random squiggles were traced over her cheeks. Tara then placed the mortar onto the table, and proceeded to touch her fingers to Willow’s temples. She closed her eyes and chanted softly. A glow formed where they touched as the blond witch continued the incantation. When she stepped back a few minutes later, Willow smiled at her, realizing the pressure inside her skull had faded considerably.
"Wow! Thanks, Tara. I feel better already. No more percussion section in my head." She reached back to find the swelling had decreased dramatically, and the cut was closed over completely. Although the area was still slightly tender, Willow was happy with the lack of throbbing echoing through her brain. "Way to de-squat the band."
Angel smiled at the shy witch, and held his hand out to her to introduce himself. "Thank you very much. I don’t think we’ve met yet."
Tara blushed and lowered her eyes. The blonde tentatively rested her small hand in his large one. She shook it quickly before withdrawing to hide both hands behind her back in the folds of her long skirt. She dipped her head again, allowing her hair to fall forward in a curtain to hide her face.
Spike sat on the table next to Willow’s chair, and withdrew a cigarette. "Glenda, Poof. Poof, Glenda. Proper introductions and all." He waved his hand between the two introductees, pointing to each with his cigarette before lighting it. He ignored Giles’ glare as the first puff of smoke escaped his lips.
Willow slapped his knee and admonished him. "Spike! That’s not very nice. Angel, this is Tara Maclay. She’s a good friend, a Scooby, and obviously a wiccan like me. Tara, this is Angel."
Tara raised her head slightly, and the hair she was using as a shield slid back a bit. She offered him a nervous smile as her head bobbed. "I kind of figured th...that. He’s tall, dark and glowery like Anya described. He’s also giving off a v...vampire aura, helping you, and he was with Sp...Spike. I kind of assumed...you know."
Angel smiled kindly at the blonde wiccan. She reminded him of Willow when he first met her. She had been so backward and unsure of herself. "Well, thank you again, Tara," he said softly, so as not to startle the girl. "It’s good to know Willow’s been around people who can take such good care of her."
Tara gathered her courage, and raised her gaze to meet the soft brown eyes of the vampire before her. "I can heal a b...b...bump on the head," she whispered for his ears only. "I can’t heal a b...b...broken heart."
Angel’s eyes widened slightly at her words. He leaned forward and whispered just as softly, "I hope that Spike and I can help in that department a little.
Tara shifted her gaze to Willow over Angel’s shoulder. She sat patiently as Spike gently examined the back of her head where her wound had mostly healed. Tara turned her attention back to Angel. "I hope you c...c...can, too. Willow’s a good p...person. She deserves to be loved."
Angel nodded his agreement. "Yes, she does."
The sound of a door slamming from the back of the shop caught everyone’s attention. Buffy’s voice called out before she appeared at the doorway from the training room. "Giles, we didn’t find her. Have you heard any..." She came to a halt upon viewing the occupants of the shop. Xander ran into her from behind, not expecting her to stop so suddenly. "...thing. Wills, thank God you’re okay."
Xander caught his balance, and then he was across the room embracing Willow in a group hug with the Slayer. "Willow, Willow, Willow. Don’t scare me like that."
"I didn’t do anything, Xan," the redhead gasped. She wondered if Buffy realized that her ribcage wasn’t configured to act as an accordion.
Xander stood up straight, and glared over her head at Angel and Spike. "You’re right. It was the Dunderhead Duo over there. If you two are done scaring the crap out of us for no reason, why don’t you drag your dead carcasses back to LA, huh?"
"There was a reason, Xander," Giles interrupted. He turned back to the vampires who were glancing longingly at Willow. She was still trying to pry Buffy’s hands from their death grip around her waist. "What happened to the two vampires that attacked her? Are they still out there?"
"Wait," Buffy glanced from Willow to Giles. "You mean Wills really was attacked? Point me in the right direction and they’re mine."
"Too late, Slayer," Spike drawled. "They’re dust."
"Was it anyone we should be aware of?" Giles questioned. Any information he could gather for his Watcher diaries, regardless of his disassociation with the Council, could prove useful in the future.
"Went by the names Thomas and Steadman," Angel offered. He noticed the way Giles’ eyes widened in recognition.
"Newbies?" Buffy asked.
"Quite the contrary." Giles had also paled a bit. "They were both older than Druscilla, if I’m correct." Angel confirmed his calculations with a nod. "They were quite well known in the early nineteen hundreds for suddenly developing an extremely sadistic and brutal side."
"Well, yeah," Spike interrupted, and blew a smoke ring. "Was right after they had a few months worth of tutorin’ from Angelus and Darla. Took to torture like ducks to water, they did. Still a couple of ponces, though. Bastards shoulda had enough sense not to lay a hand on Red."
Angel growled as a picture of Willow’s terrified face flashed through his mind. "No worries, me boy. They’ll never have another chance." His eyes flashed gold, and his hand snapped the back of the chair it had been resting upon. He shook himself out of his rage, and had the courtesy to look sheepishly at Giles. He held up the piece of broken wood, and shrugged. "Sorry. I’ll pay to have it fixed or replaced."
The Scoobies all stared at him cautiously after his display of anger and strength. Xander was still the first to step forward, eager to have the vampires on their way. "Well, hey, thanks for stoppin’ by and dealing with the unexpected slayage. Have a nice trip back to LA. Don’t let the Hellmouth hit you in the ass on the way out."
"Not leavin’ yet," Spike said softly. His eyes locked with Willow’s, never wavering. "Got some unfinished business to discuss. Pet? Can we talk somewhere?"
Xander opened his mouth to insert his foot once again, but Angel saved him by interrupting before he could get started. "Private. Talk somewhere privately? Please, Willow."
"Wills?" Buffy looked at her friend, questioning what she wanted.
"It’s okay, Buffy." Willow straightened her shoulders. "I want to talk to them."
"Wi-ills, " Xander whined.
"Leave her be, Xander," Giles admonished. "It’s her decision to make."
Willow shot him a grateful smile. She patted Buffy’s hand reassuringly before walking over to her vampires. Huh, forty days and she still considered them ‘her’ vampires. She hoped she was up to this talk. The way the two of them had been acting since they found her pinned to the wall by Thomas gave her a bit of hope. She was holding that hope down though. Sitting on top of it like it was a too-full suitcase. She wasn’t letting it spring up just yet.
"Where did you want to go talk? The dorm’s too loud."
"How about your parents’?" Spike asked.
She shook her head. "We can’t. They’re actually home for a change, in between lectures."
"What about the mansion on Crawford Street? It’s still mine," Angel suggested.
Willow nodded and Spike shrugged. It didn’t matter to him as long as they got Red alone to explain that they were bloody morons, and it took a fuckin’ cheerleader trickin’ them into seein’ the light. He pulled the keys from his duster pocket only to have them snatched out of his hand.
"This time, *I’m* driving," Angel informed the blond.
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