It helped that everybody in the house was asleep. Though she pulled on what little reserves she had to mask her presence, Esme was mildly relieved that she could relax her guard a tad as she moved silently around the Slayer's kitchen, gathering what essentials she needed for her task. She was weary, and the less magic she expended, the longer she was going to last. It had taken a lot out of her when she'd killed the Council team, much more than she would've wanted, but it needed to be done if she didn't want to end up under Quentin's thumb. She didn't plan on ever being under his control again.

Not a sound came from the rest of the house. The Watcher and the Slayer's mother slept in the living room, while there were three answering heartbeats upstairs. Four, if she counted the baby, but since it wasn't currently a threat to her, Esme didn't take it into consideration. She just needed to be aware of where the Slayer's friends were while she and Buffy had a small visit. Her window of opportunity was limited; she knew that it was only a matter of time before the Council team was found and her disappearance discovered.

She took the kettle off the burner before it could whistle and wake anybody up. Though she had made certain alterations to the spell to accommodate the circumstances, it was still essentially the same. It would serve its purpose to keep the Slayer out of the picture until the time came that Esme had the information she wanted. As soon as she had the location of the artifacts, the Slayer would become useful again. In the meantime, she had to be kept from messing everything up. Esme smiled. There was even a remote possibility Buffy would thank her for this little vacation. Stranger things had been known to happen.

Silently, she carried the tray up the stairs, affecting the glamour she would need in order to make this work. A very brief visit, she decided. She was too exhausted to do much more and still have the strength to leave afterward. She needed to rest if she wanted to be able to perform properly, and she needed it to be undisturbed by the Slayer and her friends. This was the only way she could think how.

*************

The brief knock roused Buffy from her sleep. Blinking bleary-eyed at the door, she stifled a heavy yawn before calling out, "Come in."

The door cracked open, and through the thick cloud of her half-awake state, Buffy watched Willow slip inside, shutting the light out from the hallway as quickly as she could. In her hands, she balanced a tray, and the warm scent that suddenly filled the room made Buffy's mouth water.

"Did I wake you?" Willow asked.

Buffy heard rather than saw her approach the bed. Only outlines were visible in the dark room, and her grogginess did nothing to help in making things sharper. "What's wrong?" she said instead of answering the question.

"Nothing, nothing." Willow set the tray down on her nightstand. "I couldn't sleep so I went downstairs and made myself some tea. Your mom thought it would be a good idea if I brought you some, too."

"Tea?" As delicious as it smelled, Buffy shook her head. "I can't. The caffeine---."

"It's herbal. Caffeine-free, so no danger to the baby." Willow yawned widely. "It's already working wonders on me."

Buffy struggled to a sitting position as Willow picked up the mug and handed it to her. "Has anybody called?" she asked, taking the cup. The heat seeped into her palms, and she cradled it closer, leaning to breathe the tangy scent in more deeply. God, it smelled good. It was impossible not to take just a little sip, which slid so luxuriously down her throat that she immediately sipped some more.

"Nope. No news. Which is good news, right?"

The levity struck her as odd, but as Buffy finished the rest of the tea, she realized she didn't have the strength to argue with Willow about the lack of reports. "Will you wake me up as soon as something happens?" she said, passing back the mug.

Willow's smile gleamed white in the darkness. "Of course."

Buffy was only barely aware of thin hands tucking the blanket back around her. Obviously, she'd been more tired than she'd thought, and as she rolled onto her side, curling her arm protectively around her stomach, she could've sworn she heard Willow whisper, "Sleep well, Slayer."

*************

The ringing of the telephone woke Joyce from her doze, and she opened her eyes to find her cheek resting on Rupert's shoulder. Moving as carefully as she could not to wake him, she stood up and rushed to the kitchen, grabbing the receiver on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Summers? It's Wesley. Are you all right?"

His voice was panicked and too loud, as if he was speaking up in order to be heard. In the background, she heard the sounds of traffic and realized he must be calling from Spike's car.

"We're all fine," she replied. "Sleeping mostly. What's wrong? Did you find Esme?"

There was a pause, with Spike's baritone unintelligible in the background.

"Yes and no," Wesley said. "We found where they'd been keeping her, but she was already gone." Another pause. "She killed the Council. We fear she's after Buffy and Willow next."

Joyce was suddenly awake. "Oh, god," she murmured. When Rupert appeared in the doorway, a frown on his face as he slipped his glasses back on, she waved him closer. "What can we do?"

"Frankly, not a lot---."

A muttered curse came through the line, followed by a brief scuffle. Then...

"Joyce?" It was Spike. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard him sound so scared. "Where's Buffy?"

"In her room. Sleeping, I think."

"Do me a favor. Go check on her. Make sure."

"Hang on." Covering the mouthpiece, she turned to Rupert. "Can you go upstairs and see if Willow and Buffy are all right?" she asked. He immediately turned on his heel, and she brought the phone back up to speak. "Rupert's going. He'll be right back. Where are you?"

"On our way back to the house. Oz and the soldier boy are right behind us. Has Studs checked back yet?"

"She called and spoke with Buffy earlier. From what I understood, she and Lydia were going to be following that Mr. Wood."

"Get her on the horn and tell her to get her ass back to the house. Wood can wait. Right now, we need all the muscle we can get to make sure that bitch of a witch doesn't get to Buffy or Red."

Rupert came back into the kitchen, drawing Joyce's focus once again. "They're both sound asleep," he said. "No signs of anything amiss."

She relayed the information to Spike as quickly as she could. There was no denying the sigh of relief that came over the line.

"Once you've talked to Studs," he said, "you and Rupes sit in with the girls. Make sure nobody else gets to them before we get back to the house. We should be another ten minutes unless the Watcher here starts complaining about me runnin' the reds again."

She agreed, but when she hung up the phone, anxiety was making her heart pound in her chest. It took all her control to find Havi's cell number and make the call Spike had requested.

Rupert's hand was warm where it came to rest on her shoulder. "Everything will be all right," he soothed.

Nodding, Joyce followed him back up the stairs, parting at the appropriate bedroom doors. She left the door open, the light from the hall spilling into Buffy's room to reveal her daughter curled up on her side, lashes dark against her pinked cheeks. Her eyes strayed to the swell of Buffy's stomach, the way Buffy instinctively protected it with her body. It wouldn't be that much longer before she fully understood the anxiety Joyce went through each and every time there was a threat to Buffy. Even now, knowing Spike and the others were on their way, it was difficult to suppress the fear that gripped her insides.

Joyce had no doubt that Buffy was going to be an excellent mother. She just prayed that she survived this ordeal in order to prove that.

*************

"I think you're making a mistake," Lydia said. Her knuckles were white around the door handle as Havi careened through traffic, and she was fairly certain that if the other woman kept up this breakneck speed, Lydia was going to be sick all over her shoes. "We're going to lose Robin if we go back."

"We're needed at the house." Havi's jaw was bone-white from how tightly she was clenching it. "And he already agreed to come see Buffy in the morning as it is. We have no choice but to trust that he's a man of his word."

Lydia didn't bother replying. Ever since Mrs. Summers' call, Havi had become increasingly frightening in her intensity. It would appear that any threat to Willow Rosenberg was enough to turn the woman into a machine.

"I don't know what they expect us to do," she said a few blocks later. "If Esme has her powers back, we're going to be helpless in front of her. Going back is ensuring our deaths."

"Going back is increasing our odds of success," Havi shot back. The look she gave Lydia was withering. "You are the biggest coward I have ever known. I find it very hard to believe that you've come so far within the Council, even knowing how corrupt they can be."

"I'm not a coward!"

"Really? Why then do you choose your side based on who you think will win?" Her flinty gaze returned to the road. "That is the mark of a coward, whether you choose to believe me or not."

Stiffening in her seat, Lydia held her chin high. "I'll have you know---."

"I am done listening to you," Havi interrupted. "If you speak again before we reach the Summers house, I'm going to push you out at the next stop and tell Buffy that you changed sides yet again. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to add you to the list of those she considers enemies."

She held her tongue. There was no doubt in Lydia's mind that Havi would do exactly as she promised. In fact, she was surprised the woman had volunteered to do it at a stop. With her violent tendencies, it seemed more appropriate to be pushed from a moving vehicle.

Frankly, Lydia would be surprised if she managed to get through this whole debacle alive. When it was over, she was going to retire from the Council and return to her studies. Books didn't hold grudges.

*************

For a while, Robin thought he was being followed. He'd blown off Lydia and the other girl to go meet with Maggie, but neither woman had looked pleased with his decision. Frankly, he'd believed it was them in the far distance as he navigated through the streets of Sunnydale toward the all-night diner out of town. But then the car had turned left when he'd gone straight and after a few more miles of not seeing it, Robin had dismissed it as paranoia. He was on edge because of everything. It made sense that he was seeing ghosts when there weren't any.

Though he had no idea why Maggie chose such a remote location for them to meet, he didn't question it. He'd been too eager to have an excuse not to see Buffy. What was he going to say to her? She wouldn't listen to anything he had to say Spike, regardless of whether or not it was the truth, and if she was looking for a testimonial on how Slayers made the best moms, she was barking up the wrong Wood. He thought her child was a mistake any way she spun it, and he wasn't about to pretend otherwise if she confronted him on the issue.

At least, he'd bought some time thanks to Maggie's phone call. He might even consider asking her advice on what she thought he should say.

The diner's lot was nearly deserted, and Wood pulled up to park next to Maggie's car. Through the large windows, he could see her sitting in a corner booth, looking at something on the table in front of her. He glanced at his watch. He wasn't late. How long had she been waiting for him?

She looked up as he approached the table, a warm smile creasing her features. The item that had been holding her attention was a plain manila folder. They were her favorite, she claimed, because they offered the gift of surprise. You never knew what it might contain. His stomach wrenched as he slid into the seat opposite her. So far, he did not like the way this was looking.

"I'm sorry about calling you so late," she said, the smile never leaving her face.

He tried not to frown. "You said it was important."

"It is." She slid the folder closer to him. "We've found the artifacts."

Robin stilled. He'd known about Maggie's interest in Slayers when she had asked him to be her assistant, and she'd been forthcoming about why she needed Buffy on her team. These mysterious artifacts she'd talked about could only be wielded by a Slayer, and the power they promised was too much not to have on the Initiative's side. But she'd never gone into specific detail, and after he'd backed off on trying to recruit Buffy, he'd thought the matter was over and done with. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"That's unexpected," he said, his tone cautious. "The last I remember, you didn't anticipate finding them until the spring."

"I was being conservative. I didn't want to get my hopes up in case we were wrong." She tapped the folder. "If you ever had a question, there'll be an answer in there. What we're looking for, what they're supposed to do. I thought it was about time I stopped being so stingy with the information."

She smiled, but Robin wasn't impressed with her attempt at levity. Neither did he take the offered folder.

"What's this have to do with me?" he asked. "I'm not on your Slayer project any more."

"Technically, there isn't a Slayer project any more," Maggie corrected. She sat back when the waitress approached, only leaning forward again when they'd both ordered coffee. "Aren't you in the slightest bit curious? You worked all semester trying to get to know Buffy Summers better, just for this. Don't tell me you don't want to know it was all for."

He hated that she knew him so well. Holding her gaze for a long moment, Robin finally sighed and picked up the folder. "Where did you end up finding them?" he asked as he began to scan the report.

"Outside the city limits. There's a whole catacomb of underground caverns around here. The artifacts are located near some sort of well."

"Wait. Don't you have the artifacts already?"

For the first time since his arrival, Maggie's smile faltered. "Well, no, not exactly. That was part of what we needed Buffy Summers for." She paused, her gaze calculating. "That's actually why I asked you here tonight."

Closing the folder again, he pushed it back toward her. "I already told you. I'm not helping you get Buffy. She's---."

"I don't want Buffy. I want you."

To say he was surprised was an understatement. "For what? You told me you needed a Slayer."

Maggie had the good grace to look mildly abashed. "A Slayer would be ideal, yes. But, technically, the artifacts can be retrieved by someone of Slayer blood. I never even considered the possibility of a relative of a Slayer attempting to get them out, let alone use them."

"Maybe because the possibility is ridiculous. I'm not some superhero, Chosen to save the world."

"No, your mother was." She leaned forward, suddenly intense again. "But just think about it, Robin. All that power at your fingertips? Think of all the good you could accomplish. How many HST's you could destroy. Can you seriously tell me that that doesn't excite you even a little bit?"

He wanted to say no. He wanted to be able to stand up, tell Maggie that she was crazy, and walk away from Sunnydale, once and for all. He'd come with such high expectations, but finding Spike and being confronted with Buffy's pregnancy on a near daily basis had tarnished them. That didn't even take into consideration the complications added with Esme and Mr. Travers. If he had any sense at all, he'd pack his things and head back to New York.

The only thing was...Maggie was right. The possibility of having even a fraction of the power his mother had was tempting.

Slowly, he stretched his fingers until they touched the edge of the folder, drawing it back toward him. "You never told me what the artifacts are supposed to do," he said, keeping his tone neutral.

She seemed pleased with his response, even if it didn't definitively confirm her assertions. "Well, one of them is most definitely a weapon. A scythe. Presumed to be about five feet long and capable of incredible destruction. Our sources suggest that it contains the essence of Slayer power."

Robin frowned. Thumbing through the pages of the report, he stopped at the sketch done of the scythe. "How is that possible?"

"We don't know. That's something we'll have to determine after you retrieve it."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet, Maggie."

"Operative word...yet."

The waitress arrived with their coffee, and the pair lapsed into silence as he continued to peruse the report. It wasn't just a scythe they wanted. Supposedly, there were two other artifacts, a staff and some sort of box. The information they had on those was even sketchier than what they had for the scythe, though, which meant they had damn little. If he didn't know Maggie so well, he'd almost be amused at how obsessed she'd gotten over so little.

"Don't make up your mind now," she said, breaking the silence. "Take the report home. Read it. Think it over. I don't want you to do anything that's going to make you uncomfortable."

He almost laughed. He was surprised Maggie could say the last with a straight face.

It didn't mean, however, that he wasn't going to do exactly as she said.

*************

Not even hearing Joyce's smooth assurances that Buffy was fine could temper Spike's anxiety as he pulled the Thunderbird into Revello Drive. The only good thing that came from the trip back to the house was the fact that the Watcher had kept his gob shut for most of the ride. Spike was fairly sure that if Wesley had said even one wrong thing, he'd've tossed him out on his ear.

He'd barely killed the motor before leaping from the car and dashing inside. The door slammed open from the force of his shove, and he was taking the stairs two at a time before it had even hit the wall. All around him was silence, but the soft heartbeats of his Slayer and little one called him just as assuredly as if they'd screamed.

Spike skidded to a halt at the open door of the bedroom. Joyce sat in a chair by the bed, but it was the sight of Buffy curled up on her side, her cheeks faintly pink from sleep, that finally began to quell some of the fear coursing through his veins. She was alive, breathing strong, dreaming as well, if the flickering behind her eyelids was anything to go by. The baby's heartbeat was still steady as ever, too.

He sagged against the jamb. "Thank you," he murmured to nobody in particular. Behind him, another door opened, and he glanced back to see Giles and a sleepy Willow standing at the mouth of Joyce's room.

"What's going on?" Willow asked.

"We gotta get you and Buffy out of here," Spike said. "Esme's awake and scarpered off."

Her eyes widened. "Well...maybe she doesn't care about me and Buffy any more. Maybe---."

"And maybe she's offed the entire Council team without blinking an eyelash," Spike finished. "Pack it up. We're going."

"Perhaps running isn't our best course of action," Giles suggested.

"It's not runnin'. It's hidin'. Big difference, Rupes."

"But Esme will still find us, won't she?" Willow's voice was still tight with fear. "She's got the mojo back now. What's going to stop her from finding us someplace else?"

He hated that she had a point, but everything in Spike was screaming to get out of the house. It wasn't safe, not with Esme out there and unaccounted for.

"Willow and I can put up some sort of magical defense," Giles was saying. "It might not be enough to keep Esme out, but it could slow her down so that we have advance warning of her attack."

Looking at Red told Spike that she didn't seem to think she could, but she held her tongue anyway. Truth be told, he had no clue where he could take Buffy to keep her out of Esme's way. If nothing else, this might buy them a little time to figure out a plan.

"All right," he conceded. "We'll stay put. For now. But we should wake up Buffy so that she knows what's goin' on. If we need to leave at a moment's notice, she's goin' to need to be alert enough to do it."

"I'll wake her," Joyce offered. "The rest of you can start...doing whatever it is you need to do."

Spike nodded. It was the best they could presently hope for.

*************

The trio was halfway down the stairs when Joyce called out to them. Not surprisingly, Spike was the first to reach her side.

"Something's wrong," she said. Her eyes were wide, jumping from him to Giles to Willow. "Buffy won't wake up."

Willow hung back as Spike darted to the bed, bending over Buffy to start murmuring soft words she was sure weren't meant for anybody else's ears. When Buffy didn't react, he scooped her up in his arms, slapping her cheeks lightly.

Still, there was no response.

"Call the hospital," he barked at Joyce. "I'm takin' her in."

Willow took Joyce's place in the doorway when the older woman rushed downstairs. As she watched Spike carefully pick Buffy up, her gaze strayed to the empty cup on the nightstand. That's when she noticed the familiar scent in the air.

"Oh, god," she breathed.

Spike immediately perked up. "What? What is it?"

Willow didn't answer. Hurrying to the nightstand, she picked up the cup and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the smell that lingered inside. There was something about it that was slightly different, but the similarity was too close just to ignore.

She turned nervously toward Spike. "I don't think we have to worry too much about Esme showing up any time soon," she said.

"What? Why?"

"Because I think she's already been here." She glanced at Buffy's face, so peaceful in her sleep. "And I think there's a chance...Buffy's not."

*************

It was the sky dreams were made of, brilliant and blue with no variations in shade, not a speck of cirrus to mar its crystalline perfection. She was in the middle of a park, rolling greens broken by trees that were all too familiar, their oddly shaped leaves flowering in irregular clusters against the sky. The path on which she stood wound like a silver ribbon through the grass, the finely crushed stone almost like sand beneath her shoes, and the bed of daisies and deep-purple clematis that snaked alongside leant the air a perfume that felt surprisingly like home. A stone bench several yards ahead beckoned to her, asking her to come, but she didn't move, couldn't move, frozen in place as she gazed at the world around her.

This time, she didn't wear a sundress and sandals. This time, a long, tiered skirt flowed around her legs, the elasticated waistband yielding to her swollen stomach, and her arms were bare in a tunic that draped easily over her hips. She wasn't entirely sure what was on her feet, mainly because she couldn't see them, but in the long run, she knew it didn't matter anyway. What mattered was that she was now standing in a place she'd thought she would never see again, shouldn't have seen again. Even worse, she was alone.

Every other time she'd been here, William had been here, too. The fact that she couldn't see him anywhere, no matter which direction she turned, could not be good.

"Oh, crap," Buffy muttered.

To be continued in Chapter 54: Our Brains Beguiled...

They were congregated in the kitchen, too many bodies taut with worry and fear pressed into a space that was supposed to be about warmth and family. Individual rhythms pounded against Spike's eardrums, blocking out the hearts he would much rather have listened to, but all he could do was stare at the various items scattered across the counter.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" he exclaimed. "It's not so bad that the bitch got in here without a one of you even noticing, but she was here long enough to make a pot of bloody tea? What the hell were you people doin'?"

The women had the good grace to look embarrassed, but Xander and Giles bristled at the attack.

"Have you forgotten about blind man walking here?" Xander said. "And I was asleep. No way is any of this my fault."

Spike glared at him. "You've got a nose, don't you? And ears? Ever thought of puttin' those to use, Harris?"

"Esme's very powerful," Wesley intervened. "She could've used any number of tricks to mask her presence."

"How they can bloody sleep---."

"Enough." The edge in Giles' voice only tightened the wrought nerves. "Suffice it to say, we're very well aware that we've failed Buffy in this regard. What we must do now is rectify it."

Willow began picking through the ingredients. "What I don't get is how she got Buffy to drink it," she said. "Buffy's been careful ever since last summer. And she knew Esme was out there as a potential threat."

"There's no evidence of a struggle, so I'd assume Esme utilized some sort of glamour to fool Buffy. Impersonating one of us, most likely." Giles frowned as he picked up a bottle and reads its label. "Are we certain that it wasn't some other potion she gave Buffy? I don't remember seeing this at the flat last summer, Willow."

"That's because you didn't. I'm not sure what she was trying to do with that."

"All right, I'm confused." A small line appeared between Joyce's brows, and she took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking again. "I thought both Buffy and Spike drank the tea. That that was how they were able to meet in the first place. In those dreams."

Spike came up short where he'd been pacing. "That's right," he said carefully. He cocked his head as he searched his memory. "And other than what happened to us last summer, I don't remember ever seein' Buffy again when I was human. Or any more dreams since, for that matter."

"Maybe this is something else then," Oz suggested.

Willow shook her head. "This smells almost exactly like the tea I made for Buffy. There's only that one ingredient that looks to be different."

"That is something to consider, though," Giles said. "Without Spike consuming the tea, there's no way Buffy could be transported back in time. There's nothing to call her there."

"There's still the park," Spike offered. At Joyce's frown, he added, "Where we went during the dreams. Before Buffy came back in the flesh. But even then, there were two of us drinking. And she woke up from those all right."

"Eventually," Willow muttered.

"If it's a tea for two, we don't have anything to worry about," Xander said. "There's nobody else to drink it to make the magic work."

"Yes, there is," Oz offered. All eyes turned to him. "The baby."

Understanding almost visibly rippled through the group.

"Of course," Giles murmured. "What's consumed by the mother is passed along to the fetus."

"So instead of a crack baby, you got a tea baby. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it."

"Shut it, Harris."

Willow was growing excited with this new revelation. "And since Schmoo is just as much a part of Spike as it is of Buffy, it provides the closure the spell needs."

"But the baby is still here," Joyce argued. "Buffy's still pregnant."

"Which means that we're fortunate in that Buffy hasn't time traveled again," Giles said.

Spike nodded. "She's dreaming of the park. And I'll give you odds that that new ingredient is the reason we can't wake her up."

"But why would this Esme just put Buffy to sleep?"

"It's very likely a stalling tactic," Giles explained to Joyce. "She had to expend a great deal of energy to kill the Council's team."

"And when I first got the magical booster," Willow chimed in, "I was wonky for days. Esme's old. Her turnaround time isn't going to be great. She probably did this to keep Buffy out of the picture until she's back to full strength."

"How long could that take, Red?"

She shrugged. "She woke up after only a few hours. There's no way for us to tell."

"That means you have to wake Buffy up now." When Giles and Willow exchanged a worried look, Spike stiffened. "Don't tell me you can't do it," he said. "You brought her back last summer. You can do it again."

"It might not be that simple---."

He whirled and started heading for the stairs, not wanting to listen to any more of the Watcher's excuses. "Then you make it simple," Spike snapped.

He drew up short when Havi appeared in the doorway, blocking his path. Lydia hovering just behind her made him clench his hands into fists, shoving them into his pockets before he did something Buffy would regret.

Havi's gaze jumped around, taking in the pale faces and worried expressions. "What happened?" she demanded.

With a careful glance at Spike, Willow explained the situation. He only heard half of it, lost in memories of his own time in the mystical park. While he was worried about their inability to snap Buffy out of this tea-induced sleep, part of Spike was jealous that she had the opportunity to go back. Those hours had been some of the best of both his human and vampire lives. Peaceful. Joyous. He would give almost anything to get even a few more stolen minutes with her there.

"If Esme could breach your security here," Havi said when she was done, "then Willow and Buffy must not stay."

"Thank you!" Spike exclaimed. It was about time someone saw a bit of reason, even if it was Havi. "Good to know not everybody's so thick to see what needs to be done."

"We considered that," Giles said, ignoring Spike's outburst. "But, really, where would we take them? Esme can just as easily walk into a hotel as she can here. There's no point in weakening our position unnecessarily."

Havi grew silent for a moment, her eyes dark with contemplation. "There is one place she could not go," she said. "The Well."

The suggestion made Willow's eyes light up. "Oh! That could work! It's hallowed ground. No Esmes allowed."

"Who would be allowed?" Joyce asked.

"Myself, Willow, and Buffy," Havi explained. "If Buffy is asleep, I will need help transporting her, but once she's there, there is no way Esme can come into close proximity to her again. Not until she leaves."

Spike's gaze was calculating. "Didn't you say this Well was underground? You have to climb down in order to get to it, yeah?"

"Yes."

"So tell me how you manage to get a pregnant, unconscious Slayer down the rabbit hole without dropping her on her head." He was shaking his head before she could answer. "Can't be done."

"Hold on," Xander said. "Maybe it's not that bad." He turned in Havi's direction. "How far down would you have to carry her? Five feet? Ten?"

"Twenty." She paused. "Meters."

The room exploded with noise, arguments being tossed back and forth about the few choices they had. Someone's suggestion that Willow teleport Buffy had the young witch spluttering in protest and turning bright red, while others began bandying about alternatives to the Well as a potential hideaway. Only Graham and Lydia remained silent during the discussions.

"There's only one way to get Buffy to the Well in one piece," Spike cut in. "I take her."

"Unacceptable." Though there had been moments when it had seemed that he and Havi might be coming to an understanding about this situation, she was now cold and stiff at his suggestion. "Your presence will defile what the Well embodies. Vampires are---."

"Good enough for Buffy," he finished. "But look around you, Studs. Do you see anybody else in this room who can do the deed? No. There's just me."

"I can do it."

It took all of Spike's control not to growl at the soldier, and his eyes were like ice when he swung them in Graham's direction. "Nobody asked you, mate."

"It doesn't matter," Havi said. "Neither of you may come. It is prohibited."

"Perhaps the Guardians would be willing to make an exception," Wesley said. "These are extenuating circumstances, and they're more than aware that Esme is a tangible threat. After all, they've dealt with her before. Wouldn't it be possible to strike some sort of negotiation with them? Because, really, I believe the Well is our best means to keep Buffy and Willow safe until Esme is neutralized."

Everybody waited expectantly as Havi contemplated the proposal. She finally gave them a brief nod.

"I will try," she said. "But I make no promises about what they might say."

"That's settled, then," Giles said. "Willow, Wesley, and I will attempt to recreate the tea Buffy drank so that we can determine how to break its effect, while the rest of you stand guard against any other attacks."

"No rest for the wicked," Spike muttered.

"I thought we'd already decided Esme was out sleeping all this off," Xander joked.

Spike didn't stick around after that. He just wanted to try one last time to wake Buffy.

*************

Everything looked exactly as she remembered it.

The stone path that wound its way through the closely shorn grass beckoned her to follow, tempted her to explore even though she knew already what she would find.

There was the bench upon which William had written his poetry.

And there was the small hill where they'd first kissed.

And over its crest was the small pond she'd dipped her feet in while he read her some of his poetry.

If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the warm caress of his fingertips along her arm. How he'd trembled the first time they'd made love. Hear his whispered confessions, desperate and lonely and oh so earnest.

But she didn't. Because back in Sunnydale, she had Spike. Who was harder, cooler to the touch, more cynical than the poet who'd first stolen her heart. He was just as devoted, though. Just as passionate. And beneath the mask he wore was the spirit of the same lonely young man. Everything he did sprang from that. He was a creature hungry for acceptance but wary of the pain that it evoked. She liked to think that being in Sunnydale with her was starting to break through that, but Buffy wasn't so foolish not to realize that he still had a long ways to go.

And she would be there every step of the way. Because she loved him.

And right now, she was missing him like hell.

With a heavy sigh, Buffy returned to the stone bench and sat down. The park was just as beautiful as it had been the first time, but without company, boredom was already starting to creep in and threaten her with its deceptive calm. She really hoped she woke up soon. Maybe something would attack the house and force Spike or Willow or her mom to come and get her. She could only be so lucky.

Her hand fell to her stomach, caressing the firm swell. "Looks like it's just you and me, Schmoo," she said. The baby kicked back in response, drawing a smile to Buffy's face. "You just better not get any stupid ideas about showing up before I get the hell out of here. That would be too weird, even for Sunnydale."

Carefully, she stretched out on the bench, letting the heat prickle along her exposed skin. "Oh, look, I'm wearing flats," she observed when she spied her feet for the first time since arriving. She lifted her leg in order to inspect them closer. "Cute."

But the fashion commentary only served to distract her for a few minutes. All too soon, the boredom had returned and Buffy was left staring at the blue along the horizon, her fingers absently stroking along her tummy.

"Remind me never to drink tea again," she said to nobody in particular.

She had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.

*************

Maggie got the call as she was driving home.

"I know it's late," the soldier said. "But you asked to be kept updated on the dig, especially if something unusual happened."

Her left hand tightened around the wheel. "Unusual?"

"We've got two men in the infirmary. Unconscious. Docs don't know why or how or even if they're going to wake up."

"What happened?"

"We don't know. We'd just broken through to the tunnels we told you about. Holt started climbing through, screamed, and then Rodriguez stuck his head through to see what the matter was. The next thing we knew, they were both out cold. We had to drag them back through the hole to get them out of there."

Maggie's stomach knotted. "Did anybody else try entering the tunnels?" she asked.

"No. Your orders specifically said to retreat if anything unusual happened." There was noise in the background, and Maggie listened as the soldier spoke with someone who'd obviously just entered. When he returned to the line, his voice was grim. "I've just been informed that Holt is dead, ma'am. He flat-lined without waking up."

It was just as Maggie had feared, but she kept her voice markedly neutral as she spoke. "Send a team to temporarily block the entrance to the tunnels," she said. "I want it possible for a single man to be able to move it out of the way, but I don't want it obvious should somebody accidentally stumble across our dig." She was about to disconnect when she thought of something else. "And make sure nobody else tries to enter the tunnels. I don't want to lose any more men on this."

Tossing the phone to the passenger seat, Maggie eased her foot off the gas as she considered the ramifications of this latest development. She'd suspected there would be some sort of protection set up around the artifacts, and this was now proof. The only person who was going to be able to get into the tunnels to retrieve them was going to be Robin.

She just had to keep her fingers crossed that he would agree to help her.

*************

Spike had taken sentry point on the upper story of the house. "Unless you want to give jumping from a second floor window a go," he'd taunted Harris. "Might be funny."

Nobody had questioned the wisdom of that choice. Graham and Oz split the front and back porches, while Xander tried not to get in anybody's way. Spike didn't expect a lot to happen, but at least his post gave him the opportunity to keep a close eye on Buffy. The second anything changed with her, he wanted to be the first one at her side.

He turned his head when he heard Red's light step on the stairs. Though still pale and fatigued, she was looking better than she had earlier. Having purpose seemed to be doing the trick.

"Any change?" she whispered, though the tone of her voice told him she had little hope he'd answer in the affirmative.

Spike shook his head. "How's it goin' with the gallopin' gourmets? Any luck makin' up the tea?"

"We think so." She waved the piece of paper in her hand. "I thought I'd try the incantation I used on you last summer with Buffy before we start messing with other spells. We might get lucky and wake her up on the first shot."

He was blocking the doorway to the bedroom before she could move. "Is this that same spell that made me feel like I was about ready to burst into flame?" he quizzed, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, yeah, but---."

"Do you have any idea what this is goin' to do to the little one? Or are you lot just keepin' your fingers crossed you don't muck it up?" Just as he'd jumped on Havi earlier, Spike kept on talking, refusing to give Willow the chance to answer. "If you think I'm goin' to let you use Buffy as some sort of guinea pig while you try to get this hocus pocus right, you don't know me at all, Red."

She clearly wanted to argue, but Joyce's sudden presence on the stairs behind her kept her from doing so.

"Is Spike right?" Joyce asked. "Could this be harmful to Buffy?"

Willow's gaze jumped between the pair, her shoulders slumping. "We don't know," she admitted. "I really want to say it won't hurt her at all, but with the pregnancy, I can't be sure of that."

"So you need to test it to make sure," Spike said. "Which means I'm the vamp for the job."

"What?" The suggestion shocked Red. "No! What about all that 'nobody's as strong as me' stuff you were spouting downstairs? We need you here, Spike."

"All the more incentive to do this quick, then." With a firm step, he pushed past her and started heading downstairs. There was no way he was going to take no for an answer on this, not with her concession that it could hurt Buffy or the little one. Red had said there was tea already made up; if they weren't going to give it to him willingly, he'd just have to nick it and drink it down before they could stop him.

*************

When she fell the last few feet and landed hard on her hip at the bottom of the chasm, Havi began to think that just maybe Spike had a point. She was exhausted, pushed nearly to her breaking limits, and if she couldn't make the climb down to the well on her own, she didn't know how she was going to do with it the dead weight of the Slayer over her shoulder. She was going to need help. There was no question of that now.

She took a moment for the pain in her hip to ebb. Sweat stung her eyes, and when she wiped it away, her hand came back with a streak of red along its heel. Reaching tentatively, she found the scratch that was still bleeding on her forehead and held her fingers there until the flow had stopped. Yet more proof she would need aid, Havi thought as she wiped her hand on her trousers. The Guardians couldn't ignore the extent of her injuries just on a simple climb.

Carefully, Havi stepped through the carved-out cavern that led to the Well's inner chamber. More than once, she stumbled, catching herself on the smooth walls before she could fall. By the time she reached the circular room, she was so battered and bruised that she felt like she was going to collapse.

Her chant at the water's side was barely loud enough to be heard. It took only moments for the Well to come to life, the surface rippling, lapping against the side to spill out the occasional drop.

"This is unexpected, Child of Life," came the chiming voice. As every other time, it emanated from the water's surface, reaching out into the chamber to hold and caress Havi with its power. "You are unwell?"

"I am tired," she confessed. "My strength is not as it should be."

"This is the effect of Willow's resurrection."

"This, and more." As briefly as she could manage, Havi detailed the events of the day, chronicling just what Willow's death meant for their nemesis. The air grew heavier with each detail she gave them, until by the time she was done, it felt as worn as she did.

"This is...regrettable," the Guardian's voice said. "We were not aware that Rose's work could be undone by such a simple stroke."

"Neither did we," Havi said. "And now Esme has turned her attention back to the Slayer. It's only a matter of time before she returns to finish what she has started."

"She is gathering strength. She will not wish to fail at her task again."

She paused. Rose had spoken to her a little about what Esme's intent had been, but other than generalities, Havi knew no more than the others. "I do not understand what Esme can hope to gain from the artifacts," she said cautiously. "Buffy would never willingly help her, so how can she hope to use them for any personal gain?"

The water grew more agitated, and Havi began to fear that she'd overstepped her bounds in asking the question. It wasn't her place, but so much time spent with Xander and the others had her reconsidering the utility of following so blindly. She had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not.

"Esme wishes to thwart death," the Guardians finally said. "She believes the artifacts will help her with that."

"And will they?"

The voice sighed. "You are not here to seek answers to Esme's motivations, are you, Child of Life? If you come with this purpose, you will be disappointed."

"I come to ask for your help in protecting Willow and the Slayer." There was no more time to be wasted on finding answers the Guardians weren't going to give. She had to focus on what she'd promised the others. "Since she sleeps, the Slayer is unable to protect herself. I wish to bring her and Willow here until she awakens or Esme is defeated."

The air grew hesitant. "You do not need our help in such a matter, Child. We would welcome both. You know this."

"I do." Havi took a deep breath. "But in Buffy's current state, I would be unable to bring her directly to you without help. I could not come myself without getting hurt. I would be unwilling to risk hurting the Slayer unnecessarily."

"A simple teleportation spell will work. Willow knows this."

"Yes, but without the magic she used to have at her disposal, Willow is unwilling to take the risk."

"What is it you ask of us, then?"

Here goes nothing, Havi thought.

"To allow someone else to come to the Well. Someone who could help me with Buffy."

"No." No hesitation in the response, though at least, they didn't sound angry with her for making the request in the first place. "You know the rules, Child. Only those of Slayer blood or within the Guardians circle may come to the Well uninvited."

"I know, but---."

"There will be no argument. On this, we are firm."

She'd promised the others that she would ask, and when she'd made the promise, Havi had thought she was just going through the motions. Now, however, she knew she had to fight for this.

"Esme will return for the Slayer," she said, rising to her feet. "Without your intercession, Willow and Buffy will be unable to stop her. You cannot allow that to happen. Why else would you bring Willow back from the dead? I know you must still wish her to join the Guardians' ranks, even if she doesn't have the full force of Esme's powers. But she can't do that if Esme is allowed to exact whatever revenge she has in mind for them. For that, they must be safe."

"We agree. The Well is the ideal place for the Slayer and Willow to recuperate. But you will not bring anyone else here for that to happen."

"Then how---?"

The words were choked in her throat as the light from the water grew blinding, and Havi took a step away, lifting her arm to shield her eyes from the brilliance. It bled around her flesh, forcing her to squint in order to see, and when it disappeared almost as quickly as it had come on, she was left with spots dancing in her vision.

It took a few moments of steady blinking to get them to stop. When they did, she was fairly certain her sight was still impaired.

Willow stood on the far side of the well, looking around the chamber in confusion. At her feet, Buffy was curled onto her side, fast asleep, just as she'd been when Havi had last seen her at the Summers home. But it was the other body, the one not breathing with the fading injuries from his fights earlier that day, that gave her pause.

Willow brightened when she spotted Havi, but when her gaze followed Havi's to Spike on the packed floor, her eyes went wide. "Oh..." she breathed, her head snapping back to Havi. "That's not good, is it?"

To be continued in Chapter 55: Minion of Her Pleasure...

She felt like she was going to throw up, but Willow knew that was just as much a part of the surprise teleportation as it was from everything else. However, seeing the fear suddenly spring into Havi's face at the sight of the unconscious Spike at her feet was nothing compared to the roar of the water in the Well behind her.

"Abomination!" the voice of the Guardians hissed. It seemed to come from both the water and all around her, everywhere and nowhere all at once. No more nice guy like they'd been during her first visit, Willow realized. As the water in the Well began to bubble and surge, she knew nice was the last thing on their mind.

"You're the one who brought him here!" she called out, stepping up to stand in front of his prone form. She didn't really think it would do any good in the way of protecting him, but it made her feel like she was at least doing something.

"No," the voice replied. "We complied with the Child of Life's wishes and brought you and the Slayer. Having the demon in our presence is blasphemy to everything we represent."

"They are right." Havi was pale and rigid, dark eyes darting from the Well to Spike as if she was unsure about what she might have to do. "I made the request for leniency as I said I would, and I was denied. They were very firm on this."

"Obviously, not firm enough." Willow crossed her arms over her chest, displaying more bravado than she actually felt. "What? You think I had something to do with this? All my juice has been poured into fixing this tea thing. You know I'm not up to any teleportation spells."

"It was not our desire to bring the vampire," the voice said.

"Well, maybe you should've taken a sec and asked before picking us all up. Because if you had, you would've found out that Spike had already drunk some of the tea."

"Oh." Havi's eyes went wide with understanding. "He dreams, then. With Buffy."

Willow sighed in relief. "Exactly. He wasn't going to let us test our rise and shine spells on Buffy, so he drank some of the tea before any of us could stop him. Their psyches are linked now."

"You must separate them," the Guardians ordered. "His presence---."

"Blasphemy, yeah, I got it the first couple of times you gurgled it at me." Taking a step closer to the Well, Willow gazed through the roiling surface, trying to find something, or someone, to address directly. "It's not as easy as it sounds. Without knowing Esme's spell, we're flying blind here. The original incantation I used last summer on Spike didn't work. Giles, Wes, and I were working on variations to start testing before you zapped me out of there." She glanced back to Havi. "You do know they're probably freaking out, don't you? They're going to think that Esme got us."

Havi shook her head. "That is not good."

"You're going to have to go and tell them we're safe," Willow continued.

"And you must take the vampire with you," the voice added.

"I can't." Havi stepped up to Willow's side to address the Well. "I could barely climb down on my own. I would never be able to get out again with him on my back. He will have to stay until Willow is able to wake him."

The way the water continued to bubble and churn told Willow all she needed to know about how much the Guardians didn't like that idea. Leaning toward Havi, she whispered, "What happens to people who aren't supposed to be here?"

"They die."

That's what she'd been afraid of. "You're going to have to zap Buffy and Spike back then," she said, this time to the Guardians. "Nothing can happen to Spike---."

"Nothing will." If it was possible for water to sigh, it did, a sound weary and disgruntled that filled the cavern. "He is here of our power, our...invitation, as inadvertent as it was. No harm will befall him under those circumstances."

"Oh." Some of her fear dissipated. "Well, then, that's OK. Except for, you know, the not being OK part because of him being a vampire." She caught Havi by the arm before the other woman could leave. "What's going to happen to him?" she asked. "He's not messing up some karmic thing by being here, is he?"

"I don't know," Havi admitted.

"And Schmoo?"

"The baby is of Slayer blood. It is welcome, just as Buffy is."

"Good." Willow's eyes fell to the sleeping blonds. "After everything...I'd hate for anything to happen. Buffy and Spike are so in love with Schmoo already that I think it'd kill them if it got hurt at this point."

Havi only nodded in agreement. As she left the cavern, the waters stilled within the Well, leaving Willow to her now booming thoughts. Maybe it was a good thing Spike was here, she reasoned as she sat down and got comfortable. This way, he was safe as well. And he and Buffy could enjoy their few stolen moments of peace together.

*************

He knew the moment he opened his eyes that he should go look for Buffy. But the heat of the sun overhead and the flush of perspiration along his skin made Spike pause, throw his head back, squint up at the sun with wonder usually reserved for the little one. This was unexpected. He'd swallowed the tea not really thinking about what visiting the dream park as a vampire would mean. He could never have anticipated that he'd be allowed to walk around under the sun like a man, to breathe and sweat and everything else that came with the human package. It seemed wrong not to take a few seconds and enjoy it.

When he finally started walking down the stone path, he noticed his clothes. The white shirt and old-fashioned trousers were near duplicates of his costume the first time around, but when he reached a hand to his head, he could tell that it was his twentieth century hair, minus the gel to straighten the curls. How would Buffy take the new look? he mused. Would she see William or Spike?

He spotted her first, rounding the bend in the path to see her stretched out on the stone bench. With her hair flowing over the edge, trailing along the ground, she stared up into the cloudless sky, absently playing catch with one of her shoes. His mouth curled into a smile. She looked absolutely radiant.

The crunch of the pebbles beneath his boots drifted to Buffy, and she turned her head to see who was approaching. Her eyes immediately lit up as she called out, "Spike!"

He chuckled as she struggled to sit up, reaching her side in time to slide a hand beneath her elbow and assist her in standing. Her arms went around his neck in a powerful hug, and he lowered his nose to her hair as he held her in return.

"You have no idea how glad I am you're here," she said against his shirt. "I was going out of my mind---." She stopped, pulling away to look up at him with a frown. "Did Esme fool you, too? Is that why you're here?"

Spike shook his head. "Volunteered for this, pet. I didn't want Red mucking about with the mojo if she wasn't sure how it was goin' to affect you."

"Why would Willow be messing with magic? I'm just asleep."

"Not exactly." Her eyes grew ever wider as he told her was happening back at the house, and then saw the line of her lips thin as anger replaced her surprise.

"I'm starting to think killing is too good for Esme," she said when he was done. "Our lives would just be so much easier if she'd never shown up in the first place."

Though he knew she was just furious at their situation, it still stung that she'd be so quick to wish everything they had away. Hormones and frustration, he had to remind himself, but some of his ill temper must have shown on his face.

"I meant this last time in Sunnydale," she said with a small smile. "You really think I'd want to have a life without you or Schmoo in it?"

He kissed her before he could stop himself, hands splayed flat against her back as he got lost in the heat of their bodies. When they broke away, she pressed her palm against his chest, over his now-beating heart.

"I'd forgotten..." Buffy murmured.

Slowly, Spike covered her hand with his. "Do you miss it?"

Her eyes were bright with more than delight in seeing him. "The only thing I miss is having uninterrupted time with you," she said.

He kissed her again. There was no telling how long it was going to take Red and the Watchers to find the right spell. He might as well make this little reprieve worth every second.

*************

It was impossible to sleep. Every time he rolled over, Maggie's words came back into sharper clarity, so smooth, so promising, the answer to everything, it would almost seem. There had to be a catch---there was always a catch---but for the life of him, Robin couldn't find it. All he could see was the allure of finally being able to make a difference. It's all about the mission, his mother used to say. Maybe he could make her life mean a little bit more by taking up the mission more directly.

The phone was in his hand, the numbers punched from memory, before he could talk himself out of it. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Robin listened to the other end of the line ring, his head resting in his free hand. His skull felt ready to implode from the force of his arguments on why this was such a bad idea.

But still, he stayed on the line.

"Hello?"

She sounded tired. He'd woken her up.

"It's me. I'll do it."

There was the sound of fabric rustling, and he envisioned Maggie pushing back the blankets to get out of bed. The brief thought of what she wore to bed flickered across his mind, but he shoved it aside and blamed it on exhaustion.

"Are you certain? You don't have to make a decision so quickly, you know."

Everything in her voice told him that she was more than thrilled about him making such a hasty choice. He hated that she was going through the motions of mollycoddling him.

"We both know this is what I want," Robin said. "Unless you can give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

He thought she might've paused a little too long before replying. "No, of course not. I would never have made the suggestion if I didn't have complete faith in your ability to do it."

It was oddly worded, but he took it and ran. "Then there's your answer. I'm in."

A drawer opened and closed. "I'm going to have one of my men come by in the morning to pick you up," Maggie said. The scratching of a pen across paper told him that she was writing something down. "Is oh-eight-hundred all right for you?"

"Oh-eight-now is better."

The scratching stopped. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

"Enough to know I want this done as soon as possible," Robin replied.

"I need you at the top of your game---."

"And I will be. Is there a problem with this, Maggie?"

Another pause. He wished he'd done this face to face so he could see what she was thinking. "Of course not. As long as you're certain you can do this. It's not going to be easy."

"I'm certain."

"I'll have my men there in fifteen minutes then. And...Robin?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

*************

Graham and Oz were on the front walk when Lydia appeared in the doorway, waving them inside.

"They're gone," Wesley told them once the door was closed firmly behind them. "Buffy. Spike. Willow. All three of them." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that."

"Without the sound effects, of course," Giles said. The look he shot Wesley was withering. "It must be Esme. There's no other explanation."

"What do you want us to do?" Oz asked.

"Is there anything we can do?" Graham countered.

"Not really," Giles admitted.

Mrs. Summers was hovering in the background, looking very disgruntled about the proclamation. She didn't say a word, though, which told Graham that she'd already argued her case with the Brits and lost.

"We have no idea where Esme is," Giles went on. "Wesley and I are going to do a locator spell, but frankly, I have little hope that it will actually work. Esme has likely taken the necessary measures to protect herself from us."

Oz's brows were drawn into a thick line. "I don't get it," he said slowly. "Why would she take Willow and the others when she'd already stopped by to give Buffy the tea?"

"It does seem like overkill," Graham offered.

"Esme's the only person with the necessary magical skills who has a personal interest in all three of them," Wesley said.

An idea sparked in the back of Graham's mind. Though normally he wouldn't have been so quick to make the suggestion, these weren't normal circumstances. This was Oz's girlfriend, and the Slayer. He owed these people to at least voice it.

"There is one other possibility," he said carefully. He didn't flinch under their gazes when everybody looked to him. "The Initiative. According to what I understand with what happened, Spike and Willow were right in the middle of the fight getting Xander out. And Buffy's tutor was working for Dr. Walsh."

Obviously, the possibility had never occurred to the older men. "Do you really think they would do something like this?" Giles asked.

"Do I think they would? Yes. I'm not so sure they would've used magic to get it done, but since we can't really do anything about the witch right now, isn't it worth it to look into? Just in case."

"Could you do that?" Wesley asked warily.

Graham nodded. "I know some guys. If the Initiative has Willow and the others in custody, I can find out for you."

"I'm reluctant to send you on such a dangerous errand, though." Giles rubbed at the back of his neck, his weariness bowing his back and making him appear even older. "After what happened with Willow---."

"It's not the same risk," Graham interjected. "It's just gathering intelligence. And I wouldn't have volunteered if I didn't think I could handle it."

"Is this a one-man operation?"

Oz's question took him by surprise. "Doesn't really matter."

"Then I'll go with you. Safety in numbers."

Both young men looked to Giles for approval. After a long moment, he nodded. "All right," he conceded. "It's better to rule out Dr. Walsh now, rather than ignore the possibility." He raised a warning finger. "But no unnecessary risks. We're already short-handed enough in this. I don't wish to lose the two of you as well."

Their agreement had them out the front door in record time, bundled into Oz's van before anybody could change their minds. Neither man spoke until they reached the corner.

"Where to?" Oz asked.

It continued to surprise Graham that after everything that had happened between them, Oz so willingly gave him the lead. There was no deceit in the other man's face, no mistrust. Just expectation. Patience. Graham respected that.

"Lowell House," he said.

Honestly, he didn't expect anything to pan out. Magic wasn't Dr. Walsh's thing. But this would allow him the chance to grab his things before they disappeared. He still had no idea how he was going to handle the whole being AWOL matter, but Graham figured that in light of everything else that was going on at the moment, that was minor.

What was one more soldier when you were facing an army?

*************

Willow shivered in the cool air of the cavern. Ever since Havi's departure, the Well had been deathly silent, the water still and dark. It left her to her thoughts, which in the aftermath of her so-called resurrection, Willow had decided was not a good thing. When she started thinking, she started remembering, and the memories carried with them recriminations that made her bleed. If she'd never lost her powers, if she'd only been a little more careful in rescuing Xander, none of them would be in their current predicament. Esme wouldn't be an uber-witch, and Buffy and Spike wouldn't be locked into another one of their tea dreams, and she wouldn't currently be sitting in a big hole underground wondering how she was ever going to get out again. It was all a big mess and it all came back to her. Again.

In a vain attempt to distract herself, Willow tried the few variations of the incantation she and the Watchers had come up with prior to her departure from the Summers house. Not surprisingly, none of them worked. She couldn't even feel the familiar surge of the magic in her feeble attempts. It was almost like the cavern was sucking what power she had right out of her, though she knew that wasn't really the case. She just lacked the energy to focus.

As much as she hated the thought of disturbing them, Willow gradually edged closer and closer to Buffy, stealing what body heat she could. Spike was useless in that regard, and anyway, the notion of snuggling with him was so far off the wiggy scale that she shuddered to consider it. Just what she needed in case either one of them woke up on their own. There was no way she could explain that away.

Sleep eventually won, and she fell into a light doze, plagued with dreams of water monsters wielding tea as weapons. They chased her through endless corridors, trying to convince her to drink, so that when she suddenly jerked awake, Willow's heart was pounding inside her chest, desperate for escape. Wiping at the sweat that filmed her brow, she struggled to sit up, wondering why it was she'd been startled from her sleep.

Then she heard it.

A scratching. Against rock.

Her gaze jumped to Buffy and Spike. Both were still out for the count, and a glance at her watch told Willow that Havi had been gone for less than two hours. Dawn would be breaking in Sunnydale, the town rising to face its day, but down here at the Well of Guardians, it might as well be midnight. Time didn't exist. Except to stretch into forever while she debated what to do.

It had to be Havi. That was all there was to it. Nobody else could move safely within the cavern.

Slowly, she rose to her feet. The scratching was growing louder, but it was still muffled by the dense walls lining the cavern. "Havi?" she called out, her voice more tentative than she would've wanted. She walked a few feet closer to the tunnel that led to the main exit, every step creating hollow echoes. "Is that you?"

Willow stopped. Listened.

The scratching continued.

Nobody responded.

The quiet that had driven her so crazy after Havi's departure now was lost to the thunder of her blood in her veins. Looking around, Willow searched for something she could use as a weapon, but the smooth walls refused to yield anything helpful. She closed her eyes. Focused her attention inward. The only weapon she had was the remnants of her magic.

"Willow?"

Her eyes shot open at the male voice. From the narrow opening, Robin Wood emerged, slightly dusty but looking no worse for wear. Over his shoulder was slung a backpack, but it didn't look like it had anything in it.

"What...?" Her eyes jumped behind him but she could see nothing else in the dark that yawned in the corridor from which he'd come. "What're you doing here?"

His dark eyes were inscrutable, and there was no mistaking the way they settled on Buffy and Spike. "The same thing you are, I imagine," he replied.

When he stepped toward the sleeping couple, Willow automatically moved between them. "Did you see Giles?" she asked carefully. Memories of how worried Buffy had been about Robin made her wary.

His gaze swept back to her, and for a second, her fears felt foolish. Something sympathetic lurked within the brown depths, and the curve of his mouth was almost gentle. "No," he admitted. "I didn't."

She never saw his hand move. She just felt the electric shock of the taser before she crumpled to the floor.

To be continued in Chapter 56: Thy Scythe and Thee...

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