Coming Of Age

By Medea

Chapter Eleven

A Tuesday night in mid-summer, not long after Willow's return, found Angel, Willow and Spike in Caritas. The crowd in the bar was fairly small. As they had nearly every night, in many locales, the two males grilled Willow about her travels.

"So how did you manage to get out of Tikal?" Angel asked, leaning forward in his seat in anticipation of her answer. Once he had gotten over his initial horror at Willow's brush with the infamous demons, Angel had been fascinated by her adventure. "Those demons are known for not letting anyone who's seen the inside of the temple leave. You either go in as a sacrifice, or you become a member of the community -- and members don't travel very far from the clutch."

"Actually, they did sacrifice me. Or they think they did," Willow explained.

Never had two vampires gawked in a more undignified fashion.

Angel gaped in shock, and Spike's hand froze in the middle of lifting his pint glass to his mouth. First to recover his voice, the blond vampire blurted, "You'd bloody well better not tell me you're a ghost, 'cos you damned well don't feel like one in bed."

Willow chuckled at them, but then her expression darkened as she recalled the experience.

"They didn't know what to make of me. The Tikal demons are soul harvesters. They dissect the soul the way a butcher dismembers a steer." Willow shuddered. "Not a pretty sight. They were convinced I had a soul, and they held me prisoner while they tried to figure out how to extract it."

"Hold on there, luv. Why the hell'd they think you have a soul?" Spike demanded warily.

"Umm...it's kind of complicated. Can I finish the rest of the story first?"

Spike shrugged in assent and swallowed another mouthful of ale.

Willow proceeded to tell them both about the Harvesters' attempt to sacrifice her, the ruse she had enacted by 'hiding' her essence in Spike, and her subsequent escape through the jungle. Once more, Angel and Spike gaped at her in very un-demonly fashion.

"Willow, do you know how close you came...?" Angel exclaimed, aghast.

"I know," Willow admitted, tenderly caressing his hand. "I'm sorry to have worried you. At the time, though, the danger didn't matter to me. Nothing mattered except finding something that would let me be with you again. Both of you. What I learned, though, was that you don't find a way to strengthen your connection to others by cutting all ties and running away."

"That was two years ago, wasn't it?" Spike guessed, finally making the connection. "That's what made the tattoo fade."

Willow nodded. "I'm still not sure exactly why. Although I *can* say it taxed my reserves pretty severely. I barely had the strength to get as far as Uaxactún before I collapsed and had to lay low for a few days."

"But you still haven't explained why they thought you had a soul," Angel prodded, his fascination winning out.

"You go snackin' on a gypsy girl while you were gone?" Spike added, equally curious.

"No, I have something, but it's not exactly a soul. I have both of you. And Tara, Cyrene, Hannah, Giles, Xander..." Willow revealed with a grin. When Angel and Spike merely frowned in puzzlement, she continued. "I'd always thought of my connection to all of you as a restraint on my demon. I never saw it as creating something. But your constant influence *did* create something, just as the steady pressure of the ocean's waves makes sand out of boulders."

"So we've warped you -- that was my plan all along, Red," Spike smirked. "Still don't see what that's got to do with you havin' a soul."

"You can call it warped, or you can call it shaped, Spike. Over the years, my demon has adapted to Angel's guidance, to the feelings that remained from my human self, to the steady compassion of my coven -- and to the love I felt for both of you. As a result, I've developed certain behavioral patterns, and a certain amount of empathy, that have become part of my core essence. I have many of the trappings of a soul, to the point that I even give off the same kind of energy that is associated with souls. The only difference is that I haven't got the soul. The Harvesters didn't know what to make of me. So, they assumed that I was the legendary Vampire With A Soul."

Angel's face fell when he heard her final remark. His shoulders slumped and a familiar cloud of guilt descended upon him. With profound remorse, he murmured, "Willow, I am so sorry...even my reputation has hurt you."

Smiling gently, Willow shook her head and reassured him, "No, Angel -- quite the opposite. The only reason they tolerated me in their community for as long as they did was because they were intrigued by the mere possibility of a souled vampire. If they hadn't heard about you and your soul, they would have staked me on sight as an unwelcome intruder. So, in a way, you saved me. Both of you did, at one point or another."

"So, this whatever-you've-got, it's permanent?" Spike demanded incredulously. "Your demon has been trained into some sort of fluffy little lap dog?"

Willow regarded him with a wry grin for a moment. Then she flashed her demon visage and revealed something she had not yet shown either Angel or Spike: the inky black eyes she had developed after years of exposure to dark magic, and had learned to show or conceal at will.

"I wouldn't quite say that," Willow growled.

Her growl softened into a chuckle at the alarmed looks on her companions' faces.

Resuming her human appearance, she added, "My demon is a part of me, so it's been getting stronger, too. It may have been tamed somewhat, but even a trained circus lion is never truly tame. My demon is just comfortable with how far I've come without slashing and mayhem and plots for world domination."

"Your demon's bloody spongin' off your good side!" Spike blurted indignantly.

Willow shrugged and smiled. "That's one way of putting it. I had some incredible conversations with vampires who are older than you can imagine. Believe it or not, Spike, but the survivors among us mellow with age. It's pragmatism. The ones who are too high-profile get taken down sooner or later. One couple I met, Anubis and Sahu, put it really well. They were turned in Thebes sometime around 1900 B.C., and stopped killing other than to feed before Rome was even an empire. Not necessarily out of compassion; they said they didn't need souls when they had eternity."

Spike scowled petulantly. "What, you're sayin' I oughta trade in the smokes and leather for a pink lambswool sweater?"

"No! I love the leather!" Willow laughed, running her hand seductively up his duster. "If I have my way, I'll be able to enjoy you just as you are for at least a couple more centuries."

"Hmm...I dunno..." Spike mused, draping an arm casually across Angel's shoulders. "It could be hard to tear me away from my sire. We kinda rediscovered each other while you were away."

Willow rolled her eyes at Spike's obvious attempt to make her jealous.

"We did come to a new understanding when Spike realized that needing me didn't make him weak," Angel observed, gazing at his childe with pure desire.

"The hell I did, you wanker," Spike protested, but not as vehemently as Willow might have expected. She watched as Spike's expression grew tender and he leaned in for an intense, heated kiss with his sire.

Willow's grin faltered slightly. Spike was just teasing her, wasn't he?

When Angel and Spike finally ended their kiss, they exchanged a hungry look, so fervent that Willow felt her smile slip even further.

However, in the next instant, both her companions turned toward her with mischievous eyes and chimed, "Gotcha!"

Angel burst out laughing, with wholehearted yelps of glee such as Willow had never heard from him before.

Meanwhile, Spike crowed smugly, "That's what you get for tryin' to scare us with your new look, Red. When it comes down to it, we know how to make you *shake*."

At first, Willow glared at them both, but Angel's laughter was infectious. Soon, she too was laughing uproariously as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"That was just mean!" Willow's pout lost its impact as her lips refused to cooperate, and twisted into a grin. "And *you*, Angel -- I never would have guessed you could pull off a prank so well."

"It's all your fault, Willow," Angel teased. "The ability to enjoy a really good laugh is just one of the things you've given me, now that I don't have to worry about losing my soul."

"Is it too late for me to take it back?" she retorted with a rueful grimace.

"Aww, Red really thought we didn't want her," Spike fussed with Willow's hair as though she were a neglected puppy. Arching her eyebrow, she batted his hand away. Treating her gesture as a challenge, he suggested coyly, "Maybe we should remind 'er that the team just isn't complete without 'er."

Spike rose up, reached for Willow, lifted her from her seat and pushed her down on their table, knocking glasses and bottles to the floor.

Willow shrieked anew with laughter. "Spike, cut it out! Angel, make him stop!"

"Why? When I could join him..." the dark vampire purred as he grasped Willow's hand and sucked one of her fingers into his mouth. Willow half-moaned, half-chuckled, wondering if they were still kidding or if the three of them were about to have a public orgy. Suddenly, a splash of ice-water drenched all of them and startled them into drawing apart.

The Host stared reprovingly at them with an empty, dripping bucket in his hand. "Oops, clumsy me. It slipped."

Willow and Angel glanced at each other somewhat sheepishly. Spike, on the other hand, glared unrepentantly at the green-skinned demon.

"Guys, maybe we should take this home," Willow suggested.

"Always knew you were the smart one, sweetie," Lorne smirked. "But if you *must* do that in public, just don't do it in my club. Try The Devil's Playmate over in West Hollywood; bet you'd pack the house."

At Spike's arched brow, Willow warned sternly, "Don't you dare, Spike. Don't even think of it--"

As they headed for the exit, Angel grinned broadly and reveled in the knowledge that Willow was indeed back.

*****

The air was crisp and still as only that hour just before night fades to dawn can be. Willow called it the Hollow Hour.

She strolled down a street not far from the Hyperion, deep in thought. Many a night since her return had found her reflecting upon her journey, on all the twists and turns that had brought her to this point and made her who she was. Without regrets, she nonetheless pondered what might have been.

As Willow reached an intersection, she glanced to her right and saw a young woman waiting alone at a bus stop. The woman wore what looked like a standard-issue blazer for a hotel, and Willow surmised that she had just gotten off the night shift at the hotel further down the street.

In a shadowy alley across the street, Willow recognized one of her own kind. He watched the woman at the bus stop intently.

Willow released a low growl and flashed her jet-black demon eyes. Startled, the other vampire looked at her. When he saw her chillingly dark orbs, he fled in terror.

The young woman, too, had heard the strange growl and looked uneasily around her. By then, Willow had returned to her human appearance. The woman watched her guardedly, then looked at her watch.

Memories superimposed themselves on the scene.

<Once upon a time, Willow Rosenberg went to a computer programmers conference in Los Angeles and never made it home. She had been on her way to a 4.0 that semester; she had been weighing her choices between a career in computer technology, or possibly opening her own magic shop. She liked cookies.>

A few minutes later, the bus arrived, and pulled away from the curb with the woman safely on board.

Willow watched it leave, then continued back to the Hyperion. She smiled as she thought of lives altered by chance encounters and divergent paths, and wondered if that woman liked cookies.

Then, Willow let herself reach out to a familiar presence.

<Eternity, Willow...eternity...> She heard Sahu's voice echo in her mind.

~Fin~

Continue to 'Triptych'

Look, it cannot be seen -- it is beyond form.
Listen, it cannot be heard -- it is beyond sound.
Grasp, it cannot be held -- it is intangible.
These three are indefinable;
Therefore they are joined in one.

--Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching

NOTES: Tantalus, in Greek mythology, was punished by being forever chained in a pool of water in Hades, which receded whenever he attempted to drink and quench his thirst.

'Allahu Akbar' (Allah is the Greatest) is the beginning of the Al-Athan, or Muslim call to prayer.

The lyrics for my first (ack!) foray into songfic (shudder!) are from 'Since I Don't Have You', originally recorded in 1958 by The Skyliners, but it's Brian Setzer who has been ringing in my ears far too much of late. What can I say? I'm a sap. Sap sap sap sap sap...