Oil & Blood

By Medea

Chapter Three

The next few days were difficult for both Angel and Willow. However, simply having confronted the truth alleviated some of the awkwardness that had been festering between them. Angel worked to include Willow more frequently in the business of Angel Investigations, since it was clear that she needed a challenge. Spike had explained that restless boredom was often the root of soured relations between sire and childe. In Spike's view, boredom was the bane of a vampire existence, considering that if nobody staked them, they could be around for a long time.

Willow was plying Spike for more of his insights about vampire relations over drinks at Caritas one evening when Andrew Murdoch strolled in. He was in better spirits than when they'd last seen him, and the reason was easy to see. At his right hand stood Nadia Drakulic -- minus her heartbeat.

Spike shrugged, lit himself a cigarette, and remarked, "Told you so."

Willow narrowed her eyes at him and chided, "Smart-ass."

"Thought you liked my ass, luv."

Their banter was interrupted as Murdoch and his new childe approached the table.

"May we join you?" Murdoch inquired smoothly, gesturing to the empty chairs.

"Please," Willow inclined her head in welcome.

"I assume you remember Nadia," Murdoch added as he guided his companion into her seat. "Nadia, these are Willow and Spike."

Nadia cocked her head to the side and said, "From before."

Spike took a long drag on his cigarette but didn't bother to extend his hand. He knew how territorial masters were around newly-made childer. With a bemused smirk, he muttered, "Welcome to the club."

Willow nodded and smiled, before turning to Murdoch and asking, "What brings you to Caritas? I don't think I've seen you here before."

"This is known as one of your haunts. I wanted to speak to you about another business proposition."

"Not more embezzling?" Willow demanded warily.

"No, and I've been meaning to thank you for your help with that," Murdoch answered evenly, his face pleasantly neutral. "However, the events of that evening have left a vacancy in my organization. I was wondering if you would consider accepting the position formerly held by my childe. You're good."

Willow's eyes widened in surprise, and a low, displeased growl rumbled in Spike's throat. Diplomatically, Murdoch amended, "That is, if you don't have other ambitions. I must admit, it's difficult to come by information about the Trinity. You're among the most powerful vampires in the city, yet you seem to have your designs on nothing. Unless, of course, you've been devoting yourself to the hunt for the child -- which is the current assumption in some circles."

"Hunt for the child?" Willow echoed as she exchanged a puzzled look with Spike.

Murdoch stared at her as if it were obvious. "The Slayer. Her human keepers haven't found her yet. The rumor is that she's barely eleven years old -- practically defenseless. Vampires everywhere are looking for her. An easy prize."

Spike snorted disdainfully. "Right. They think they'll have bragging rights for taking down a baby girl. If they want a real notch in their belts, let 'em try taking one out in her prime."

Murdoch acquiesced with a light shrug of his shoulders. "Not all of them can be William the Bloody." Turning to Willow, he restated his offer. "I take it that you aren't pursuing the hunt. In that case, the position at my company is yours. I can make the arrangement very attractive. Do consider it."

"I'll think about it, but I won't promise anything," Willow stated flatly. Turning to Spike, she said, "I'm going to the bar for a re-fill. Want anything?"

Spike eyed her half-full glass with an arched brow and declined. He knew exactly why she was going to the bar, and it wasn't to get another drink.

At the bar, Willow perched herself on one of the stools and motioned to the scaly, speckled bartender. He approached and asked in a voice that warbled two-part harmony, "What can I get you?"

"Lorne," Willow answered. "Tell the Host I need to see him."

"Well...he's kind of entertaining a private party right now..." the bartender apologized.

Willow sized up the demon across from her, and surmised what would be the most effective reply. Taking a chance, she asked sweetly, "How would you like your lower register to be permanently flat, and your upper register to be permanently sharp?"

The bartender grimaced. Willow's reputation as an adept witch carried far and wide. He lowered his eyes in defeat and withdrew to fetch his employer. As he left, he motioned to one of the busboys to fill in for him.

Willow waited a few moments. She fiddled with the glass she'd brought to the bar with her, took a few sips of her drink, then noticed that someone had moved to stand beside her. Willow turned her head to see the fledgling Nadia wave the stand-in bartender over and order two glasses of red wine. Willow could see in her eyes that the newly-made vampire was curious about her, but was studiously trying to hide it. Since Willow was equally interested to know how Nadia had come to join the community of the undead, and knew that the younger vampire wouldn't speak first, she broached the subject directly.

"So, he found you?" Willow remarked casually.

Nadia nodded. "Two nights after..."

"After you killed his childe," Willow finished, understanding that it might be an awkward subject for one who, as a childe herself now, could understand the full gravity of what had happened. "And he turned you then."

"No. It wasn't until a week later," Nadia explained. When she saw Willow's startled face, she elaborated, "I remember that I hadn't even planned to be around...I meant to leave town the next day. But my bank account was frozen -- and I knew. I knew it was him. I didn't know what to do. I called a friend and stayed with her the first night, then went back to my place to pack whatever I could sell for cash into my car and hit the road. I figured starting over from scratch was my only choice. That's when he showed up. He asked me out to dinner...and I realized that if he'd wanted me dead, it would have happened already. So I went. And that's all we did, up until the night he turned me. We had dinner and we talked."

"He seduced you," Willow concluded, understanding.

Nadia fidgeted, and Willow knew even before she opened her mouth what she would say next. "I've heard...about you. I know it didn't happen the same way..."

Willow had been through this more times than she could count. It was long past the "getting old" stage, too familiar to be annoying any more, and had simply become part of her own, personal litany.

"A minion stumbled across me at a bus stop. My illustrious sire got himself staked the following night," Willow drawled indifferently. Taking a sip of her drink, she added, "Not all of us are wined and dined before we're dined on."

Nadia blinked in surprise and released a flustered cross between a laugh and a snort. As a newly-made childe, she felt the bond with her sire deeply, and Willow's complete lack of feeling for her own sire perplexed her. Something about Willow's relaxed demeanor must have given Nadia the courage to press further. Succumbing to her overwhelming curiosity, she asked, "Doesn't it bother you, not having a sire?"

Willow regarded her thoughtfully before admitting, "Sometimes. Mostly it's something I wonder about, like a hypothetical question. But there's no point in spending too much time on something I can't really change."

Nadia frowned, still unable to fathom Willow's calm disinterest about her lack of blood ties. The busboy slid the requested glasses of wine in front of her. The younger vampire stared, befuddled, at her enigmatic elder for a few moments more, and then simply retreated wordlessly to the table where her sire chatted with Spike.

Amused by the exchange, Willow cracked a half-smile. She was just raising her own glass to her lips when The Host finally arrived, looking very put-out.

"Do you have any idea who you dragged me away from?" he huffed irritably. "Barbra Streisand's agent. The woman may be past her prime, but she can still belt them out better than most of the prancing teenagers you hear these days. And I *almost* had her persuaded to book Barbra for two shows here -- this had *better* be good, toots."

"I need you to tell me what you've heard about a hunt for the Slayer," Willow demanded with urgency.

The green-skinned demon rolled his eyes disdainfully. "You dragged me out here for *that*? You've been hanging around tall, dark and angst-ridden too long -- his bad habits are rubbing off on you."

"Lorne, enough with the drama queen routine. This is serious," Willow insisted sternly.

The Host sighed, and reminded her stubbornly, "You know the rules."

Her patience wearing thin, Willow narrowed her eyes wickedly and brayed in a flat, monotone voice, "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beeeeeeeer--"

"Stop, already!" Lorne raised his hands in disgust. "You *are* taking after His Broodness. Okay, I don't know much, but here's what I can tell you..."

*****

Giles was aghast.

When Willow had called him, he'd assumed she was checking up on him, as had been her habit ever since their return from Europe. When he heard her recount what she had learned about the Slayer, it chilled him to the core.

"By killing Buffy before her time -- at least five years too soon, if the rumors about the next Slayer's age are correct -- they left this girl completely vulnerable," Giles fumed indignantly. "How could they not have considered that?!"

"I seem to have lost any remorse I felt," Willow agreed through the telephone receiver. "Giles, is there any way you could make some inquiries about this?"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I can make inquiries, but I doubt I'll get much of a response. As you predicted, my former associates aren't speaking to me."

"Anything you can learn will be helpful," Willow assured him. "We have to find this girl before someone else does."

"We certainly agree on that," Giles replied fervently.

"Angel and the others just came in, so I have to go. Call me if you uncover anything."

"I will," he promised before disconnecting.

Giles sat on the edge of his bed and felt very old as he absorbed this latest turn of events. He had just begun to move on with his life after Buffy, and was slowly adjusting to no longer being a central player in the fight against evil. True, he had missed the gratification of making a difference in the world, but he'd learned to find satisfaction in the modest contribution he and Xander made toward keeping their small corner of the world safe. Day by day, he managed to give meaning to his existence, and learned to cope with the pain that memories of Buffy could still evoke.

All of that was now thrown into disarray. It was heart-wrenching to know that Buffy should have been with them for another five years. Moreover, there was a threat to the new Slayer, and Giles knew that he was needed. A seasoned veteran of more battles than most people -- most Watchers, even -- faced in a normal lifetime, Giles felt the stirring of familiar reflexes. He rose to set on some water for tea and begin making his inquiries.

*****

More than a month after Willow spoke with Giles about the threat to the new Slayer, Cordelia had a vision that gave them their first clue to her location. Wanting to claim the prize for themselves, most vampires were as tight-lipped as the Watchers. All they could discover was that the girl was most likely somewhere in the Western United States. However, Cordelia's vision narrowed the range considerably. She saw an alley next to The Cutthroat Saloon, a sign for hot springs, and...

"...horses," Cordelia announced as she massaged her temples. Per their usual routine, Angel handed her a glass of water and waited for her to recover. One of the small mercies of the excruciating pain she'd suffered from the vision of Buffy's assassination was that, in comparison, all others since then had been almost bearable. The Seer now recovered much more quickly and had an easier time sorting out the images.

"Horses?" Angel prompted.

Cordelia knit her brow as she worked to bring everything into focus. "Yes...ranches, actually...wait...Pagosa Trails..."

Wesley was already en route to the computer. "It shouldn't be too difficult to cross-reference ranches named Pagosa Trails with towns that have a Cutthroat Saloon."

"Wow, your visions are getting pretty good with the specifics," Willow noted wryly. "Think we could nudge the Powers a little and get them to flash you a post office with the zip code on front?"

"No nudging! Jeez, don't jinx me, vamp girl. I've gotten used to *not* needing mega-doses of ibuprofen after these," Cordelia retorted peevishly.

Willow stuck her tongue out at the brunette, then went to help Wesley. Within twenty minutes, they found three small towns that boasted a Pagosa Trails ranch and a Cutthroat Saloon, but only one that was also near natural hot springs.

Pagosa Springs, Colorado.

Unlike Cordelia's usual visions, this one had indicated no immediate threat; only a place, and an image of a young girl with dark braids and alert sable eyes. As it was already after the departure of most night flights from L.A., Angel instructed Cordelia to make arrangements for him to catch a flight to Albuquerque the next evening.

"Make that two tickets, Cordy," Willow piped up.

Angel shook his head. "No, Willow. If we both go, it will arouse suspicion. Other vampires may be watching us, and we could end up leading them straight to her."

Willow met his firm denial with her own, steady resolve. "Then let me go alone. I *need* to help with this, Angel. I haven't felt right since London. Besides, you know that there isn't anyone better-equipped to sense a Slayer than me."

"Willow, Cordelia's visions are my marching orders from the Powers, they always have been. Believe me, I understand why you want to help, but as much as I trust you, I can't send you to do my work. I won't take the risk that, for whatever reason, I was meant to be there," Angel insisted.

"So we both go, then. Even if we do lead some of the others to her, there will be two of us to protect her," Willow argued.

They debated at length. Finally, Angel pulled rank.

"Willow, as a member of my clan, you're still under my authority. Do you need a reminder?"

A shiver of desire ran through Willow. There was that damned voice again, compelling and seductive. Did she need a reminder? Did she *want* one? God...how she wanted it. The feel of his fangs in her neck once again, after they had refrained for so long. It would be more than a reminder of his authority. As with anything that involved blood, it would summon up the powerful feelings they shared -- not as powerful as a sire-childe bond, but very potent in their own right.

Too potent. Willow might want a reminder, but she knew neither of them could afford it.

"No reminder necessary," Willow deferred softly, lowering her eyes. When she raised them again, she saw her own frustrated desire mirrored in Angel's eyes. Although he looked like he wanted to pull her into his arms, he stepped away.

Discretion: the better part of valor, and the ultimate cold shower for passion.

However, the following afternoon, the Powers That Be decided the matter in favor of Willow. Cordelia had yet another vision, this time one that pictured Angel responding to a crisis in Los Angeles. Still uncomfortable with the idea of not handling such an important matter as the Slayer's safety himself, the dark vampire suggested that Willow take Spike along with her. Evidently, she had persuaded him that having two of them close enough to protect the young Slayer outweighed the risk that too many vampires would follow them.

Cordelia made some costly, last-minute changes to the flight reservations, and soon after dusk Willow and Spike left on their mission

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