Oil & Blood

By Medea

Chapter Eight

Willow stalked through the cemetery.

She was so frustrated it left her fuming. Needing to vent her anger, she hoped that a local vamp or demon would be considerate enough to stumble across her path.

It wasn't supposed to turn out like this! After everything she and Spike had done...

"Willow!"

Under normal circumstances, she would have stopped for that voice. But her foul mood led Willow to quicken her pace. She wasn't ready to have this argument yet. She refused to listen to reason.

"Willow, don't walk away from me!"

Clenching her fists, she stopped. She remained absolutely still, refusing to turn around and look at him. Soon enough, he caught up to her and moved to stand before her. Willow focused her eyes on a nearby grave.

"Look at me, Willow."

God, she hated it when he did that, when he used that voice that made it impossible to refuse him anything. Reluctantly, she lifted her head and stared into the stern, sable eyes of her mentor.

"Angel, I don't want to go another round right now. You're not going to convince me that this is for the best. For crying out loud, *you* were ready to kill every last one of them not so long ago."

"Giles has been persuaded that they're sincere. I trust his judgment. It's not like you won't have the chance to see her," Angel noted calmly.

"Some consolation!" Willow spat indignantly. "Spike and I did all the work, and now this...this Cecil Smith--"

"Smythe," Angel corrected.

"--wants to waltz in and take over!" Willow finished, having ignored the interruption.

Her shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes tightly, as if she could shut out the impending changes that the Council had proposed, and to which Giles and Angel seemed resigned.

Cecil Smythe, Megan's Watcher, had arrived a day after the Council had called Giles and attempted to take the first steps toward restoring good relations with their estranged former colleague. Giles had been pleasantly surprised by the conciliatory tone of the conversation, and the straightforward admission that the failure to assign the Slayer a Watcher sooner had been a consequence of internal struggles in the Council. After the deaths of the seven conspirators, the truth had come out about Buffy's assassination. It set off a fierce battle for control between various factions, some who staunchly opposed any collaboration with "the enemy", others who believed that that very doctrinaire stance was responsible for the Council's dilemma.

Smythe's character was a concrete indication that the more liberal faction in the Council had won out. In his mid-thirties, sprightly, and sincere, he was a far cry from the stuffy, tight-lipped old men that dominated Willow's mental image of the Watchers Council. True, his elevated pulse and rapid breathing had testified to his anxiety that first day, when he'd arrived and met not only Megan, but her two vampire guardians. Willow would hardly have expected less, since she didn't doubt that she and Spike were known to anyone associated with the Watchers' organization as two of the vampires who had tortured the former head of the Council to death.

But his patience and willingness to work closely with Willow and Spike, despite their obvious mistrust, had surprised her.

It angered her that she had gradually allowed herself to approve of him. Not long after she had realized that she might eventually accept his stewardship of the Slayer, he had expressed concerns that left Willow feeling betrayed.

He had suggested that Megan needed to have room to grow into her role as the Slayer without the constant -- and potentially distracting -- presence of her vampire companions.

Spike had nearly killed him.

For Willow, it had been a greater shock when Giles had agreed it would be better for Megan if Willow and Spike returned to Los Angeles.

"The Council has agreed to leave the final decision to you. They recognize everything that you've done to help her, and realize that they are in no position to give orders. But they also feel that if Megan is to be truly effective as a Slayer, she needs to be able to develop the same trust with her Watcher that Buffy and I shared. And that will be difficult if there are others who are the primary objects of her trust," Giles had explained as gently as he could.

Willow's response to his patient entreaty still echoed in her head, even two nights later. "Trust?! This *is* the organization that betrayed and murdered their own Slayer we're talking about, isn't it? Who do they think they are, talking about the need to build trust?!"

After two nights of heated discussion, when he had been unable to sway Willow or Spike, Giles had turned to Angel.

And so Willow found herself in a cemetery, adamantly opposing someone she desperately did not want to fight. She would not, could not, accept the Council's proposal; yet she could deny Angel nothing. She was balanced on the razor's edge, and wasn't certain which way she'd fall.

"You'll be able to visit any time you like," Angel pointed out. "Megan's Watcher would actually encourage it. He thinks it would be good for her to train with you. Just not all the time."

"Great!" Willow sneered sarcastically. "It'll be just like joint custody. We'll have visiting rights."

"Willow, this isn't a custody battle," came Angel's mild rebuke. "She isn't yours to lose. She *has* parents, and you're not her mother."

Willow was almost as stunned as Angel when her hand struck out, delivering a sharp blow across his cheek. Her palm stung from the impact, but not nearly as much as she smarted inwardly at his comment, which had cut too close.

"How dare you!" Willow choked with rage.

"Stop it, Willow," Angel growled at her, rapidly losing patience. "Don't you see? This is exactly why you need to distance yourself from Megan. This isn't concern, it's possessiveness. Pure demon possessiveness. Let it go, for her sake."

"Don't tell me about distance!" Willow countered hotly. "Distance is exactly what got Buffy killed. Don't tell me you never wonder if you might have been able to save her if you hadn't been all the way over in L.A."

It was a deliberately cruel remark and Willow knew it. She didn't need the angry face of Angel's demon to let her know that she'd pushed him too far, and wasn't surprised when his arm shot out, lifted her in the air and hurled her against a crypt twenty paces away. As she pushed herself up, she saw him storming toward her, more Angelus than Angel.

"I've had enough of this temper tantrum, little one," the dark vampire warned in a low, deadly voice.

Willow awaited him, poised to fight, her demon to the fore. "So the Council will leave the choice up to me, but you won't."

"I won't let your demon choose for you," Angel snapped.

Willow struck first, with a precision kick aimed directly at his chest. Too quick for her, Angel caught her foot and shoved her off balance, but before he could tackle her, Willow rolled aside and leaped back to her feet. They alternated between a furious blur of punches and kicks, and deceptively calm interludes in which they circled each other, looking for signs of fatigue. Finally, Angel's superior strength and experience won out and he pinned her to the ground.

Nose to nose, their bodies pressed together more intimately than they had been in months, Willow and Angel glared at each other. Although Angel had subdued her physically, Willow stubbornly refused to give in.

"Do it," she insisted through clenched teeth, baring her neck to him.

Angel flinched and pulled back slightly, but didn't restore his human face.

"Do it," Willow repeated, but in a soft, despairing voice that revealed how close she was to the breaking point. "Drink me, Angel. I defied you; restore your authority." When the dark vampire remained silent and motionless, Willow closed her eyes and a tear leaked from beneath her lashes. "If I were Spike...if I were your childe...you would have already done it."

Seeing her in such pain caused Angel's anger to evaporate. His more handsome, human face returned and he sat up. Suddenly, Angel understood that their fight had been far more complicated than he'd realized.

Willow lay sobbing on the ground for a few moments, her hands pressed over her eyes. Eventually, she sat up and turned her back to him, too filled with shame and self-loathing to look at him. From her huddled position, she murmured, "You invoked your authority as sire to get Spike to let Megan alone, didn't you?"

"Yes," Angel confessed, knowing where this was leading and hating the fact that Willow was hurting inside.

"But you can't do that with me, and so we went through our little dance...and you can't even imprint your seal on my vein..." she whispered forlornly.

"I'm sorry. Willow, please don't," Angel murmured. But Willow continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"I can't have you...I can't be with Megan...Only Spike..." Abruptly, Willow pushed herself up. She stood with her back still turned to Angel, straightening her shoulders with resignation. "I'll leave tomorrow night. I want the chance to say good-bye to her."

She started to walk away.

"Willow--" Angel called after her. She broke into a run and left him in the cemetery.

After a few moments, Angel stood up and began a slow, heartsick walk back to the magic shop.

*****

"Do you have to go?" Megan whimpered as her eyes stared pleadingly into Willow's.

Willow flicked a brief, cold glance at Giles, Angel and Smythe, who stood near the bookshelves along one wall of Giles's store. At least they had the decency to look sorry.

Looking back down at Megan, Willow smiled sadly and laid her hands on the girl's shoulders. "It's best for you right now, Meg. You need to work with your Watcher; it's not good for you to get too comfortable with the enemy."

"You're not the enemy!" Megan protested vehemently.

Spike, who had been standing sullenly a few feet away from Angel -- the twin points of his sire's mark visible on his neck -- laughed bitterly and approached her. "Shows how much you know, little thing. I've taken down two Slayers in my time, both of 'em tougher than you. What makes you think I won't come after you? Just 'cos you're too small to be worth my while right now, don't get any ideas that I'm not your worst nightmare."

Suddenly, he swooped down on her. Caught off-guard, Megan was unable to react before Spike gripped her firmly and pierced her neck with his fangs. She let out a startled cry and Cecil Smythe moved to intercede. However, he found himself face-to-face with Willow in gameface. Her vicious snarl held him in check, and just as suddenly as Spike had latched onto Megan, he released her and stormed out of the magic shop.

Megan stared after him in shock, clutching absently at her throbbing neck, and then fled to the solace of her training room.

Willow resumed her human appearance and remarked coolly, "Spike and I will find our own way back to the lair, Angel." She pivoted on her heel and strode out in search of her companion.

When she had left, the dark vampire moved away from Giles and Smythe, the emotional strain of the past twenty-four hours showing in his weary movements. Giles, too, bore a haunted look which revealed how deeply the arguments with Willow had taken their toll.

Mr. Smythe, shaken but attempting to muster a sufficiently diplomatic response, observed, "In a way, he's spared her...Although it was brutal, he...he made a clean break of it. Someday, she'll understand that it was a kindness of sorts..."

"He didn't do that to make it easier for her to let go," Angel muttered.

Megan's Watcher blinked in confusion. Giles, who had far more experience with vampires, explained to his younger colleague, "Spike marked her. The scar will be a warning to other vampires that he considers her one of his own."

"Protection..." Mr. Smythe breathed as comprehension finally dawned on him.

Angel turned and crossed toward him. "Protection from our kind, yes -- but not against you and your organization. I'll say this just once." The dark vampire fixed Mr. Smythe with a deadly gaze. "Tell the Council they'd better forget about their usual tricks. No poisonings, no tests. Not this time. You'll answer to me for it."

With that, Angel walked out of the store.

"He means it," Mr. Smythe stated in a trembling voice.

"He'd have my help," Giles warned soberly. He stared unflinchingly at his successor for a moment, not out of hostility toward the man, but simply wanting him to understand that he and the Council still had far to go toward restoring the trust that had been shattered by Buffy's assassination. With a final, stern appraisal of Mr. Smythe, Giles turned and headed for the work-out room, hoping to console Megan as best he could.

Megan's Watcher was left standing in the center of the shop, painfully aware of how little his training had done to equip him to deal with situations like this.

*****

Angel watched as Willow paced restlessly in the courtyard. Her frustration had permeated the Hyperion ever since her return, and she seemed more like a caged animal than someone who had come home.

She didn't seem to be holding a grudge against him. He was thankful that she hadn't stopped speaking to him, but there was still something so closed off about her. When she looked at him, there was a sadness and distance that troubled him.

When his mind snapped out of these reflections and he was again aware of his surroundings, Angel realized that Willow saw him. He'd been caught.

Silently, they regarded each other for a few moments. Then, without a word, Willow turned and slipped out into the night.

*****

Tara, Hannah and Cyrene sat quietly in the Wiccan couple's living room, their expressions a mixture of loss, compassion, regret and hope.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Cyrene asked.

"It's what I need to do," Willow affirmed. "I can't take this anymore. I may never find what I'm looking for, but I can't sit by and do nothing. I'm past the stage where I can be content with things as they are."

"But that doesn't mean you have to leave the coven," Tara reminded her. "Wherever it is you're going, the bond will remain. It could sustain you through some of what you might face."

Willow smiled but shook her head. "No, Tara. It will be safer for all of you if you release me. I've been reading everything recorded by humans that I could find, and nothing has given me the answer. When I leave, I'll be going into demon territory. I don't want the dark power to travel through me back to you." Turning to look at Hannah, Willow's smile broadened even further. "Especially now that Hannah is pregnant."

Hannah and Cyrene grinned sheepishly, and Cyrene explained, "We've been talking about it for a while. We didn't want to say anything until it took. Hannah's doctor only confirmed it two weeks ago, while you were in Sunnydale. I guess we should have known you'd figure it out."

"Two heartbeats," Willow grinned, nodding toward Hannah. "So, artificial insemination?"

"No...Loïc," Hannah clarified. "We talked about it with him, and he agreed. He flew here a few months ago, and...uh..."

"Lent a helping...*hand*?" Willow teased, as the four of them chuckled. "Well, don't I feel out-of-the-loop. So, what happened to no secrets in the circle?"

"We knew you had your mind on other things -- important things," Cyrene apologized. "And we didn't want to get anyone's hopes up until we were successful."

"I was *kidding*, Cyrene," Willow assured her. "It's a very private decision. But in a similar spirit, I'd like to ask you to do the same for me. You're the only ones I've discussed this with. I'd rather you didn't say anything about this to anyone -- especially not Angel. If I can't find what I'm looking for, it will be better if he doesn't have any false hopes."

"We understand," the dark-haired woman agreed.

Hesitantly, the four friends looked at each other, none wanting to be the one to move forward with the dissolution of their coven.

At last, however, Cyrene stretched out her hands and said, "Our sister has a journey ahead of her. Let's not add to her burden..."

At the end of the ritual, when they released hands, the last of Willow's ties to those she cared for was broken

~Fin~

Continue to 'Coming Of Age'