Quentin had his new minions obtain what he considered to be more decent bedding for him. He didn’t really care where they‘d found it. It was clean and was comfortable and that was his main concern. That they’d brought back clean items for themselves as well was of no concern to him.

Before going to sleep for the day, he’d killed another of them to make his point about being obeyed. True, it thinned the ranks a bit, but he wasn’t concerned. He could always make more.

So ensconced in a smaller more secure room, Travers slept, feeling secure with two of the minions to guard his door.

Step one of his plans to destroy Buffy Summers was in effect and if all went as planned; he’d be recovering some of his more valued volumes from his room at the Council house that very evening. With those, he could do a great deal more damage.

It was something he looked forward to.

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

“Mornin’, Dawnie! How you feeling?”

Dawn jumped into a fighting stance as quickly as she could crawl back into her skin.

She’d been startled by the unexpected voice, even though she’d been warned, but after all… It was broad daylight!

“Faith, it’s daytime. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you mean you believed all that rot about ghosts only being around at night? Jeeze, Dawnie. I can be here anytime. Gotta get used to that. If I’d been a demon or something, you be hurtin’ about now. It’ll keep you on your toes if I show up anytime or place.”

Faith grinned at the teen as she relaxed against the counter, balancing carefully so she didn’t ‘fall’ through the wood.

Dawn reached for the coffee pot. Oh, she knew Buffy would fuss, but right about now, she could use a good shot of caffeine!

“Well, can’t you go bother Wesley instead? Keep him on HIS toes? Or at least get him on them, since I think he’s still asleep.”

“Now that’s a thought. Wonder what ol’ Wes sleeps in….”

“Eeeeewwww, isn’t a strong enough word for that! Thank you so much for that image first thing this morning, Faith. I’m gonna have a cup of coffee and drown myself now, thanks.”

“Hey, any time, kiddo. I’m here to help!”

The brunette ghost just grinned as Dawn rolled her eyes and headed for the back steps.

She enjoyed a few quiet minutes alone in the early morning, just watching the sky brighten; the birds emerge for the day.

Spike stepped out on the back landing, cup in hand and sat down next to Dawn.

“That Faith in the kitchen, poking around?”

“You can see her?!”

“Well, yeah. Not like it’s a problem, ‘Bit.”

“She said only Wesley and I would be able to see her, is all.”

“Guess she was mistaken. Saw her plain as day in there, snoopin’ through the cabinets and such.”

“Great. Not only a ghost, but one that can show up at all hours and now she’s nosy on top of all that. I can see that slaying is gonna be such fun… NOT!”

“Is it okay if I join you two?”, Buffy asked her lover and her sister hesitantly, unsure of her welcome right now.

“Sure, Buffy. Let’s get a table out here as well, so we all have room. Think Wesley will be out soon too?”

Dawn’s irritation at having, what she considered her private time, preempted, was plain in her words.

“Maybe. He was having a conversation with Faith when I got my coffee.”

“Don’t tell me you saw her too?”

“Well, yeah… D’you mean Spike saw her as well?”

She looked at him for confirmation of her question.

“Sittin’ right here, Slayer. And yeah, I saw her. Slender, brunette, foxy lookin’ little chit?”

“I guess I deserved that, Spike. I was coming to apologize.”

Dawn stood abruptly between the two blondes.

“Hey, you guys don’t mind me. I’ll just go sit on the front porch before you wade into your morning fight.”

“Sorry, Dawn. We already had that. That’s why I wanted to apologize.”

Buffy even sounded chagrined for once.

“I give up. I quit. I’ll be out front. Maybe there will be only a couple of demons or vamps braving the morning light instead of ghosts and sisters and vampire day-walkers, so I can have a little peace and quiet!”

Dawn stalked down the steps and around the corner of the house as Buffy and Spike watched.

“What got into her this morning?”

“Probably same thing that gets her sister every morning.”

“Spike! I know you’re not doing that with Dawn!”

She smiled at him to let him know she was trying to tease him. His expression remained solemn.

“I, ah… I owe you an apology, Spike. You were right and I was wrong. I had no right to yell at you about what you did. I even think I understand why. Can we talk about this? I DO love you, you irritating vampire.”

Spike stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he rested his head on top of hers.

“Yeah, we probably should talk about it. I love you too, Buffy. You know I do.”

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

Giles had set out two cups and was preparing to pour the tea, when Willow finally emerged from her room, stepping past the small table in the windowed alcove to look out at the trees, her back toward Giles, running her fingertip along the window edge.

“This is a really nice view, Giles. Probably don’t see many trees and stuff this close to the city.”

“Willow….”

“It’s really pretty out there, but kinda looks like it might rain.”

“Yes, it does that often here and yes, it’s difficult to get a place with such a view. Much like trying to apologize to you right now.”

The slender redhead stopped tracing the wood of the window frame, standing perfectly still as she tilted her head to look down.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Giles. It was my fault. I – Tara and I used to tease each other... I’d lick the tip of her nose when she tickled me.”

Willow gave a small, half-hearted shrug before she continued. “It just seemed the natural thing to do, but then you moved and my aim was off… I led you to think something other than what I had intended.”

Giles sat the teapot on the table and took two steps to stand behind her, placing his hands on top of her shoulders.

“Willow, you did nothing wrong. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, or make you feel that you can’t come to me if you need something, even a safe place to sleep in the middle of the night. I- I overstepped what was proper. I know you’re grieving and I have no excuse for what I did. I can only ask your forgiveness.”

Energy flared suddenly around Willow in a greenish haze, she turned to face Giles, her eyes filled with the blackness of night. She pushed slightly with the power at her command, moving him several feet away from her, then swallowed the energy back down, the glow disappearing.

“You have NOTHING to apologize for! The only way you can ruin our friendship IS to have no excuse for what you did! Don’t you understand that? Do you even know why I’m angry, Giles? Why I’m upset?”

While the Watcher appreciated the control she’d shown over the ability she wielded, he’d not expected such an action from her and certainly not the statement or questions she’d thrown at him. He wanted to tell her the truth, without angering or upsetting her further, but the energy still just under her skin worried him. He quickly opted to make the choice her decision.

“I don’t quite know what you wish me to say, Willow. I can tell you the whole truth and risk your anger and wrath, or I can be ‘proper’ as I should do. The choice is yours.”

“The truth, Rupert. If we’re to be student and teacher or even just friends, the truth. I have at least enough control to not hurt you or tear the place up. If I feel out of control, I’ll use the exercises you taught me already or else just leave the room for a while.

So what IS the truth?”

“Alright, I’m going to take you at your word here and treat you as the adult you are.

The truth is that I’ve not been with anyone for quite some time. The situations here, what with going back and forth to Sunnydale, and all the work I’ve been doing, dangerous work, I might add; I didn’t feel it was right to get involved with anyone. You’re a very attractive woman, Willow. The moment you, ah, missed your aim… I wanted to do exactly what I did. However, considering our previous and current relationship, your situation and basically everything, I didn’t feel that such an action was appropriate, thus the apology.

And if you’re going to ‘blast’ me, please do so as quickly as possible.”

Willow was slightly surprised at his admission, even though she was still angry with him.

She tried to use the techniques he’d taught her so far and kept her voice down, a firm hold on her will, “Did you every consider asking me what I might think was appropriate? I’m not a little girl anymore, Rupert, as you pointed out. I’m not a virgin, or a sheltered innocent either. Did it ever occur to you that while it started out as ‘bad aim’, that I might have liked it? I DID kiss you back, if you’ll remember? And I’m not gonna ‘blast’ you.”

She saw the surprise fill his face as he grasped the significance of her words. Willow could see him almost reach backwards to go over the memory of what had actually happened, to find the truth of her words.

“So you did. I know I noticed at the time, however, I then became so agitated at what I felt I’d done, that I seemed to have misplaced that portion of it. I’m sorry about that.

Ah… did you?”

Willow couldn’t figure out for a moment what he meant, then as she realized he’d had an almost hopeful sound to the last question, she understood.

“Yes. I did enjoy it. Now, for the rest of the truth from me. Fair is fair. I did enjoy it. I also enjoyed sleeping with you. It was comfortable and I felt safe. Having someone as familiar to me as you are helps me feel safe. I’m not ready for a relationship right now, Rupert, but I will be eventually. I might even want it to be with you. It’s not out of the question. So can we make up now and you not make any more decisions for me about my love-life without checking with me first?”

Giles finally relaxed, chuckled and stepped carefully back toward her.

“A most reasonable request, Willow. I’m glad you feel safe with me, and though it may try my own will-power, especially after your admission, if you need to sleep next to me occasionally to feel safe, I’m certain we can manage that.”

“Good. Now give me a hug and let’s have something to eat. I’m starving. What do you guys have for breakfast here anyway?”

Suited word to deed, Willow stepped closer, quickly hugging Giles. He wrapped his arms around her for only a moment before releasing her.

It had seemed the thing to do after having just ‘made up’ from their earlier argument.

“Contrary to Xander’s comment regarding ‘bangers and mash’, we have eggs, toast and tea.”

He handed her into the chair opposite the window, letting her have the view of the woods.

“That’ll do it. So can I pick up supplies while you’re off to the Council house, for us to ward my room tonight?”

“I’ll make you a list and directions to the shop I frequent.”

The conversation turned casual, discussing the warding, his plans for the day with the Council and mundane trivia about the local area for the remainder of the meal.

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

Setting his cup down as he quickly walked around the desk, Lindsey gently turned Cordelia to face him, kneeling to hold her to him, letting her cry into his shoulder as her silent tears turned into racking sobs.

“Cordy, honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. I’m your friend, Cordy. You know you can tell me anything.”

Cordelia clung to Lindsey, body shaking as she wept. She tried to deny everything, but the word came out in a trembling wail.

“N-n-noth-ing…!”

“Cordy, you don’t cry like this for nothing. It’s Angel, isn’t it?”

“H-he was… w-with her!”

“I know.. “

Angel stepped inside the doorway, but stopped as Lindsey flicked a glance at him.

“Cordy, why are you so upset because he was with her? You know they’ve been together before..”

Lindsey’s voice was soft, reassuring to Cordelia, but his gaze; hard, dark, cold, was turned on Angel as the vampire stood silently, watching, listening.

“H-he co-ould have l-l-lost his s-soul, Lindsey. W-we’d have to k-kill him.”

“You know we might have been able to put his soul back.”

“W-Willow did that be-before. You said she’s i-in England.”

“Cordelia, listen to me now. There are enough of us to be able to get the ritual from Willow and do it here if we had to, but he didn’t lose his soul, so why are you so upset? You know the past between Angel and Buffy.”

Cordelia sniffled as she struggled to stop crying, raising her head from Lindsey’s shoulder. He kept a firm grip on her arms to help support her and keep her looking at him.. and to prevent her seeing Angel still standing just inside the doorway.

“T-that’s the problem. I know their past. And it’s s-suppose to be that.. past! So why was he with her now?”

“Honey, there are a lot of reasons and it can all be explained in a little bit, but you gotta look inside, Cordy. Why are YOU so upset about it? You know we could’ve taken care of his soul if we had to… So what’s really wrong, hon?”

“Oh, Lindsey.. I never thought it would happen. I know better. I know all the bad reasons.. Like I said, I know their past. I know what Angel can become… But…”

Her voice fell to a bare whisper of sound. Lindsey knew that Angel would still be able to hear her too.

“Suddenly, I wanted to be in her place. I wanted him to be with me, to want to be with me… I can’t love him, Lindsey! I know the million-and-one reasons that I can’t love him…”

Lindsey looked finally from Angel into Cordelia’s stricken, tear-streaked face, his own full of compassion for how she felt. He felt his own chest constrict deep inside, as he knew what he had to ask her.

“You know all the reasons why you shouldn’t, but you love him anyway. Right?”

“Yeah. I’m in love with Angel. What am I going to do, Lindsey?”

“Talk to him about it, Cordy.”

“I can’t! I can’t tell him at all.”

“Cordy, he already knows. He walked in while we were talking.”

Shock, surprise, anger filled her face.

“No!”

Angel had quietly walked behind her during Lindsey’s confession about his presence.

The dark-haired vampire took one more step, then scooped the tearful brunette up in his arms, leaving Lindsey to quietly exit the room, his own heart heavy.

“Cordy, I’m sorry I upset you. Can let me try to explain? There really are a lot of complicated reasons for what happened. Then we can ask Lindsey to come back and help fill in any gaps in what I know or remember? But first I want to talk to you alone.”

“Okay, I’ll listen to what you have to say, but don’t expect me to not be upset with you afterwards.”

“‘Fair enough. Just other thing before we talk ….”

Before she could ask what it was, Angel dipped his head slightly to kiss her, his mouth taking possession of hers as he held her like a child in his arms; her own arms wrapped now around his neck.

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

Giles entered the Council house, heading up the stairs to the assistant’s office. Melford answered with a deep-voiced request to enter, at the sound of Giles’ knock on the office door.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Giles. I’m glad you could make it back so quickly. Have a seat please. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Thank you and yes, that would be pleasant. So tell me exactly what happened. How did Travers get turned? Why didn’t someone handle that problem before he rose?”

Melford had rung down to the kitchen for a pot of tea with accoutrements as Giles had settled in the chair across Melford. It was an older chair, like so many things in the Council house, but was well made, deeply cushioned, covered with buttery soft, dark burgundy leather. Giles waited for Melford to settle and start explaining what had been happening here.

Melford didn’t settle, but instead, paced back and forth behind his desk as he waited for the tea to arrive.

“If we might, Mr. Giles, let’s wait for the tea so we’re not interrupted. There are certain things we’d prefer to not have bantered about in the servants quarters; I’m sure you understand.”

“Quite. It’s fine to wait a few moments, and make it Rupert, please.”

“Thank you. Mine’s Paul, in case you’d forgotten.”

With his words, Paul Melford crossed his office to open the door in response to the knock and clink of crockery. He stood back, allowing the man to bring in a small folding table and a large tea tray. Once the tray was set up, the man left the room. Paul closed the door behind him and turned to the task of serving the tea.

Finally, as both men sat with cup of tea at hand and a small plate of sandwiches, the assistant head of the Council began his tale.

“Some of the others, the older Watchers, were aware of the, ah, shall we say, ‘dislike’, that Quentin held for Miss Summers.”

Giles took a sip of tea before setting the cup back into the saucer.

“I suspect the word you’re looking for is hatred. And which Ms. Summers?”

“Both of them, unfortunately. The first trip to the States for Buffy’s testing at her eighteenth birthday was the beginning of it, but the last trip over, what with Glory and all… Well, that pretty much iced the cake, as it were. Some of the younger Watchers spoke up in favor of Ms. Summers, but after the first couple of occasions, her supporters disappeared and no one dared again. We now suspect that those unfortunates became some of the vampires Quentin housed in the dungeon.”

Giles leaved forward to give emphasis to his words.

“What exactly was he doing with vampires in the dungeon? Buffy has been past eighteen for quite some time. Faith’s been older than eighteen for a couple of years as well and was never tested. So why the vampires?”

“We… we don’t know. Quentin had his own agenda that he’d not shared with anyone. I was sorry to hear about Faith. The girl had a rather checkered past, it’s true, yet she hardly deserved that.”

“The ‘girl’ as you put it, had never received any sort of kindness or sympathy from this Council, so why start now? I also assume you have the reports of how she was killed; I should like to see those a bit later. Do go on.”

“Ah.. Yes. Well, it seems that Quentin disappeared for several hours that last evening. He’d had quite a few calls on his private line and we were all instructed that if anyone called for him at all, no one was to question who they were, but to simply get the call to him without fail. He had a call immediately before he walked out of the house, a bottle of port in hand.

One man thought he’d seen Quentin walk around the back of the house, but he disappeared, and the man didn’t pursue it.

Actually I don’t blame him… If you’d known what Quentin’s temper was like…”

“Oh, rest assured, I’m familiar with his temper. I felt the brunt of it often enough when I was training and then once I’d been assigned to Ms. Summers. I was discovering that everything we’d been taught wasn’t necessarily true. Black and white weren’t the only colors in the demon or even the vampire world and while ‘happily ever after’ is rare, it can happen, at least for a while. Quentin had a great many problems with those concepts and I’m sure there were several blistered telephone lines between here and Sunnydale on the few occasions we had to call him.”

“Some of us had heard the stories being circulated about Ms. Summers and her vampire ‘lover’.”

Melford’s opinion was plain, as the man almost spit the words out of his mouth as though they had a bad taste.

“Contrary to what you may have heard or were taught or believe, that same vampire ‘lover’ was an enormous help to us on more occasions than one and has been instrumental in keeping Ms. Summers alive numerous times.”

“Even though disgraceful actions on her part released Angelus on the face of the earth again…”

Had Melford actually known Giles well, the man would have ceased his comments much sooner and would never have uttered any more. The softened, mild quality of Rupert Giles’ voice was warning enough to everyone who knew him.

“Yes, it did. Buffy paid dearly for the outcome of what at been an innocent action on her part, and ultimately his soul was restored.”

“Not before he killed your girlfriend, I believe. Tucked her up nice and cozy in your bed to find?”

Melford actually allowed the smirk to show on his face.

It quickly vanished as Giles lunged across the desk to grab the man by his lapels with both hands, as he pulled Melford partially back across the desk. Giles spoke very softly and very calmly.

“Yes, he did, and you’ll never speak of it or of her again or I shall strangle you where you sit. Ms. Calendar lost her life trying to make up for the incredible damage her clan had set into motion with the curse on Angel’s soul. Buffy didn’t know about it, Angel didn’t know about it, even Ms. Calendar, who was a member of the Kalderash, didn’t know of the ‘catch’ the gypsies had included with the curse.

It was a terrible action that took the innocence of my Slayer, yes, but it wasn’t the act of making love to Angel that took it. You see, Jenny had already translated the ritual to restore his soul when Angelus killed her. However, one of Buffy’s young friends, a witch of no small power, completed that ritual successfully. Still, the portal had opened and Buffy had to close it. In doing so, she deliberately sent her lover into Hell… with his soul restored.”

Giles finally released the man, allowing him to drop back into his chair before resuming his own to casually pick up his cup for another sip of tea.

“It’d be best if you’d not disparage people I care about or discuss things you have no true knowledge of.

Now let us get on with remainder of the necessary information before I officially take over as Acting Head of the Watcher’s Council.”

The statement was full of warning, and the reminder that Rupert Giles would be Paul Melford’s superior.

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

Dawn, Wesley and Faith had trained in the workroom of the Crawford mansion for several hours that afternoon after Dawn had gotten in from school.

Actually, it was Dawn and Wesley that trained while Faith simply wandered around tossing out tips, suggestions or simply kibitzing.

“Faith, can’t you at least be quiet if you can’t be useful?”

Wesley was tired, his ribs bruised and Dawn had gotten him once across the jaw, splitting the edge of his lip. He had called a break and was holding an ice pack on the swollen area.

“Wes, your face always did bruise so easy. It’s such a shame too, cause it’s a nice face, ya know?”

Faith was thoughtful as she gazed at the younger Watcher.

“I’m rather fond of it, being the only one I have.”

“Tell ya what. Take a break Wes and let me try something with Dawnie here.”

The brunette ghost wandered over toward where Dawn stood, drinking a protein shake that Wesley had insisted on.

“Dawnie, you’ve seen B do that tai chi stuff right? She used to do that with Angel all the time.”

Unsure of where the ghost was leading the conversation, Dawn answered hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’ve seen her do that. She and Spike train that way too sometimes.”

“Okay, here’s what I want to do…”

Faith spent the next several minutes outlining her idea.

“That sounds pretty cool. Can we use some music too?”

“Sure. Good idea, Dawnie. It’ll help us stay in rhythm the first few times.”

Faith watched as Dawn picked a CD from the stack Wesley had brought with him from L.A. She found something that she thought would be appropriate for the slow graceful moves she’d seen Buffy do sometimes.

Putting the CD in the player, she hit the ‘play’ button then moved to stand in front of Faith.

The previous Slayer started working through an excruciatingly slow series of moves, Dawn mirroring her every motion.

The young Slayer found it was much harder than it had looked to keep the movements slow, even, smooth and before too many minutes, her now trembling muscles were ready to scream at her.

“Burning yet?”

Dawn answered in the affirmative, keeping part of her mind completely on her motions.

Faith took the next set a bit faster. They were still slow and graceful, but no longer as slow as frozen syrup trying to run from a bottle.

They were halfway through the second set for the second time, when Buffy and Spike came in.

Buffy saw what the two Slayers were doing, squeezed Spike’s hand before releasing it, then moved into position beside Faith, opposite Dawn. Spike moved to the place next to Dawn and opposite Buffy as the two blondes entered into the slow, deadly dance.

Wesley watched the four of them in amazement as they glided in unison, working together as a smoothly oiled machine, each one fitting the other three pieces.

When the three corporeal ones finally took a break, Wesley moved to exclaim about what he’d seen.

“That was actually beautiful. A wonderful idea, Faith. Thank you for joining them, Buffy, Spike. I could see Dawn improve with each new kata she worked through.

It was quite beautiful… Each of you looked like something who’d kill someone as soon as kiss them, or more likely kill them instead of kissing them.”

Wesley turned his attention directly to Faith for a few moments.

“Faith, I’m sorry that I never got to actually work with you back then… Oh, I know I was supposed to be your Watcher as well, but I was untrained; you were always angry, and I realize now, scared. Your movements were beautiful.”

“Thanks, Wes. Can’t take credit for all of it though. Angel worked with me some in L.A. before I went to jail. Then he’d come on visiting days sometimes and we’d manage to get permission to use the gym… You know, keeping him out of the sun and all. And he’d work out with me like that. It was fun, gave me something to do. He said it’d keep me limber.”

“Easy to see that he worked with you as well as Buffy. Always did have a distinct style. Now you and Buffy have that same edge to your movements that he has.”

Spike remarked, giving his own observations as he lit a cigarette.

“So you guys wanna come patrollin’ with me and Wes and Dawnie tonight?

Be kinda cool, ya know? Kinda like old times, B, but without the fightin’ between us.”

Faith grinned impudently at the blonde Slayer.

“Sure. Be fun.” Buffy turned to look at Spike, “Wanna go with us?”

Arrangements were soon settled for later that evening, then Spike and Buffy headed home to handle some household chores, make dinner, get in a quick shag….

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

Willow found the small, quaint shop as easily as Giles said it would be to locate. The bell over the door tinkled lightly as she entered, reminding her a bit of the Magick Box.

Gazing around the small store at the well-stocked shelves, Willow thought how Tara would have liked to see it and felt a pang of loss tighten her chest. Taking a few deep breaths and deliberately trying to center herself, she felt the muscles of her chest relax as the tension flowed out of her, back into the earth beneath the well-waxed boards of the floor.

“That was well done, lovie. I see ye’re not an amateur to the Path. How can I be helpin’ ye today?”

The woman was older than Giles seemed to be, yet very spry and quick. Her lined face was animated, in constant motion, which made her appear younger than Willow thought she might be. The woman was short, shorter than Willow, with reddish blonde hair that could only be called amber. The thick tumbled mane was liberally streaked through with a pure, crisp white. She wore a loose flowing robe of leaf green, and the twinkling eyes that gazed out of that wise-looking face were the shade of lilacs in bloom.

“Oh, my! I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare, but your looks are so startling. I mean they’re beautiful, but unusual.”

Willow realized how her words might have sounded and tried to correct herself.

“I mean, it’s not that I’m trying to be rude or make a pass or anything…. Ah, can we try this again? I’m making a mess of things. I’m Willow Rosenberg.”

The woman laughed, a full-throated sound that swept through the small space, wrapping around Willow like a cat stropping himself against her ankles.

“Ay, and who else would ye be bein’ with that hair and yankee accent. Ye must be the new lassie come from the States with Mr. Giles. ‘Tis welcome ye are.”

“Ah, yeah. You know Giles? He said this was the shop he used to purchase supplies, and we kinda needed to ward my room when he gets in tonight. I had some pretty nasty dreams last night.”

“Well, let me see tha’ list he sent with you. I know Mr. Giles and his lists… Tell me about tha’ dream what troubled you whilst I look this over.”

Willow felt as comfortable with this woman as she did with Giles for some reason and found herself telling the shopkeeper about the horrible dream.

“Och! ‘Tis no wonder ye’r frightened of it. Any sensible body would’a been. Let’s see.. we'll strike off this mugwort and add a bit o’ hyssop and rose geranium instead. Ye’ll be a’wanting a few candles as well. I think a blue, green, yellow, pink, two white and a black. Oh, and my name’s Angie.”

“Nice to meet you, Angie. Why so many candles?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, m’girl. Did ye no think I could see the grief hanging around ye like a worn dress? Ye lost someone special recently… “ Angie squinted slightly, looking to one side of Willow. The redhead was tempted to turn to see who was standing next to her, when the woman continued, “…But ye’ll get past it as time will do. There’s someone special who’ll be there for ye when the time comes, lovie.

Let’s gather ye’r items here then sit a moment to have a cuppa with me, if’n ye would.”

“I’d love to, Angie. It’d be kinda nice to talk to another woman about some things.”

With a knowing look at Willow, Angie helped her fill a small wicker basket with her items. The woman bundled them up, added them to Giles’ shop tab and bustled Willow off to the back corner of the shop where they had a pot of strawberry-vanilla tea and chatted like old friends for the next hour.

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

“..so that’s what happened, Cordelia. I hope you understand a bit better now. It wasn’t just our past. What you don’t know is that when I think about someone by my side, someone I can count on, someone I share things with; you’re always that person now. You’ve become a part of my life that I’m not willing to give up.”

“Angel… Even if you loved me, especially if you loved me, we’d still have the same problems you had with Buffy. You’re just lucky that you were feeling so guilty you kept your soul. If we were together, you’d have no reason to feel that guilt and you know what we’d run the risk of…. I love you, Angel, but I’m not gonna be a midnight snack for you when you get a bit too much ‘happy’.”

“I know, Cordy, I know.”

Angel stared morosely at the floor for a long minute before he made a quick decision.

Looking back at the brunette sitting across from him, he took her hand between his.

“I’m going to have to go away for a few days, Cordy. I’m not gonna be in Sunnydale or anywhere close to Buffy, so you don’t need to worry. I don’t know if I have an answer for this problem or not, but I’m going to find out. Can you and Lindsey handle things while I’m gone?”

“Yes, but where…”

“Please don’t ask me. I’ll be okay. Just trust me Cordy.”

“Alright. But this had better be worth it, Mister.”

“I certainly hope it will be.”

Angel stood up, still holding her hand as he drew her toward him around the desk.

Stepping into the tall brunette, he wrapped his arms around her as he tilted his head, covering her lips with his own, tongue exploring her mouth, drinking in the taste of her like a fine wine, or rare nectar.

When the dark-haired vampire finally released her, Cordelia was breathless and he felt almost a bit giddy himself.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, arms still wrapped around his waist.

“Let’s go find Lindsey and tell him I’m going to try and handle this problem and he needs to take good care of you while I’m gone.”

“Let Lindsey wait just a minute longer.”

Cordelia pulled his head back down to hers, pressing her lips against Angel’s once more as she pressed her body close enough to his to tell that he was very happy to be kissing her.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, Cordelia knew she had to get away before she pushed him onto the desktop and begged him to simply take her.

“Go. Go now, Angel. Go fix this before I get both of us in trouble.”

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

The sun had set only moments earlier when the group finally finished dinner, cleaned up then set out to patrol for the evening.

It was a fairly uneventful evening with Faith, Buffy and Spike offering suggestions and tips to Wesley and Dawn. The young Slayer glaring at the three ‘helpers’ and Wesley muttering terse comments under his breath about various tortures he’d like to inflict on the ‘helpers’ for their annoying ‘help’.

On the one occasion when Dawn was clearly out-matched, Buffy and Spike did jump into the fray; quickly dispatching the obstinate demon in question then resumed their suggestions from the sidelines.

The assortment of Slayers, Watcher, Ghost and Vampire had been on patrol for better than an hour when the attack came.

Walking past a previously surveyed crypt, the Slayer team, as Faith had dubbed them, saw a couple of vampires. The two vamps turned in seconds to a dozen and moments later into even more vampires.

Unable to assist in the actual fighting, Faith kept lookout and called warnings constantly to the remaining four as they fought the horde of vampires.

Buffy and Spike made reasonably quick dust of the vampires they fought, trying to whittle the numbers down and protect Dawn as well as Wesley, who were making an awful lot of dust themselves.

“Hey B! Save one to question. They don’t usually act like this, ya know.”

Faith called to the blonde as the vampire numbers were down again to just a couple.

“Good idea!”

Buffy pulled up short on the deadly strike of the stake she held, skewering the vampire in the shoulder instead of the heart.

He went down in a heap, still attempting to pull her with him.

Spike caught him by the arm and slung him into the nearest headstone, knocking the unknown vamp unconscious.

“That will hold him for a moment while we tie him up. Everybody alright?”

Hearing affirmatives behind them, Spike tugged his belt from the top of his pants, handing it to Buffy as she looped it, then tugged it tightly around the unconscious vamps wrists before pulling his ankles upward behind his back to securely ‘hog-tie’ him.

Buffy glanced at Spike as they both took a seat on the ground. Wesley was leaning on a tree next to Dawn as the Watcher dabbed at a shallow cut over one eye and caught his breath. Dawn stood, arms crossed as she too waited for the lone vampire to regain consciousness so they could question him.

Fortunately it wasn’t a long wait.

“Hey! What’ve you done to me? You’re cutting’ off my circulation here.”

“Great, just what we needed to top off the night, a whining vampire. Shut up, you. You don’t have circulation to cut off. We’ve got questions and want answers.”

Dawn told the vampire as he tried to look pitiful, tied up as he was on the ground.

“Why should I tell you anything? If he finds out, he’ll kill me.”

“And you think we’re gonna do what, exactly? Throw you a party?”

“If you kill me you’ll never find out anything, so as long as I refuse to talk, I get to live.”

Buffy stood during the exchange between Dawn and the vampire. Spike did the same and walked behind her to the other side of the vamp.

Reaching down to gather his shirt front in her hands, Buffy picked the demon-faced man up, dangling him in the air in front of her as she deliberately let the new change transfigure her face and teeth.

Feeling the sharpened edges with her tongue, then the quick slight coppery taste as she nicked her own tongue, Buffy turned her head slightly to whisper over her shoulder to Spike.

“You have a set sharper than this, how do you manage to not slice your tongue to ribbons all the time?”

“Practice, love.”

“Hhmmmm.” Buffy turned back to the dangling vampire, grinning slowly to draw his attention to her newly sharpened set of pearly whites.

“We won’t throw you a party, but we might have a party with you as the ‘favor’ if you don’t tell us what we want to know. I can promise you that you won’t enjoy a minute of it either. You’d be surprised what I’ve learned over the years as a Slayer about what will hurt but not kill a vampire. Spike and Angel… you DO know Angel, don’t you?”

The vampire tried frantically to nod, unable to take his eyes from the set of sharp-edged teeth showing between the blonde Slayer’s pink tinted lips.

“Good. Then I know you’ll understand when I tell you that Spike and Angel taught me even more ‘goodies’ to do to vampires that won’t kill them. Do you know the one about the red-hot pokers? No? I can teach you…”

Buffy drew the last sentence out seductively as her prey twitched more frantically in her grasp.

“N-n-no! I’ll talk. Just promise me a quick death afterwards!”

Seeing a fine trembling cross the muscles in Buffy’s back, Spike took the burden of the vampire, dropping him back to the ground before he could realize the strain of holding him at arms length was finally telling on the Slayer’s body.

“Right, mate. So start singing. Who sent you and your dusty group of friends after the Slayer?”

“Travers. Quentin Travers. He’s the new power over in England. A few new guys showed up a few nights ago. They were gathering up everyone they could find to help them.”

“Exactly how did they convince you to help and what did they need help doing?”

Buffy crouched in front of him, twisting the now torn front of the vampire’s shirt in her hand, as if she were doing so absent-mindedly.

“They-they promised us the same kinda ‘fun’ you just did. What’s wrong with your face, Slayer? I mean, you’re not a vampire, but you’ve changed!”

“You mean this?” Buffy waved her free hand beside her face.

“Nothing much. It just seems that if we Slayers do this long enough, then we start to get a bit different when we get angry. I notice you didn’t answer the rest of the question.” She leaned toward him, catching an earlobe between her lips very gently, sucking it into her mouth just before she sank her teeth into it, piercing his ear for him.

The vampire let out a squalling yowl of pain as Buffy turned to spit on the ground.

“Eeeeewwww! Don’t you guys ever think of bathing? I’m waiting for an answer….”

“Yeah, we think of it, but can’t always find a shower we can use.”

The bound, bitten vampire tried frantically to explain.

Buffy dropped back down to a seat on the ground, looking up at Spike.

“He’s about as bright as a box of rocks. Maybe you can get the right answer out of him.”

Spike stooped to rest on his haunches opposite Buffy, effectively sandwiching the vampire.

Reaching out with a single fingertip, he drew it down the side of the vampire’s face, leaving a thin red line of blood as the sharp nail sliced the skin.

“We want to know what Quentin Travers wanted you to do for him, idiot.”

“O-okay! Stop! It hurts! I’ll tell you! Just don’t cut or bite me any more, please!”

“Lord, what a poof the soddin’ git is!”

Even Wesley was amazed at the squeamishness of the captured vampire.

“Hey, that was good Wes! And yeah, what a wimp!”

Faith had wandered over to stand next to Wesley and Dawn as she watched this new Buffy and Spike in action.

“He.. Travers.. wanted us to all attack you. All of you. He wanted us to capture that new Slayer. They said she was gonna be shipped back to England to Travers. He just wanted us to kill whatever vampire you was with and you. We was suppose to Turn the Watcher and send him back too.”

“How were they going to get them back to England?”

Buffy’s tone was sharp-edged with anger.

“I don’t know. They didn’t tell us that. The English guys.. they was gonna handle that part once we’d done the rest. But they’re dead now too. You killed them so nobody knows. I did hear them say something about a dock in L.A. That’s all I know! Honest!”

Buffy thought for a moment, then looked toward Spike as she softly told him, “Untie him and let him go.”

“Are you sure, Buffy?”

“Yeah. I’ll explain later.”

Spike did as she had requested and untied the whimpering demon, pulling him to his feet, as he got almost nose-to-nose with the smelly, bleeding excuse of vampire.

“You’d better run and run fast. If I see you again, you’ll be fittin’ in the first ashtray I can find. Got it? Don’t come near the Slayers or Watcher or any of their friends or me. You know who my sire is. You know what I’ll do.”

“Y-yes, Master Spike. I promise”

The vampire turned as quickly as Spike released him and ran. He was still running when he finally disappeared from sight.

The Slayer gang looked one to the other, as they weakly started to laugh.

“That was great!” “Where did you get such an idea?” “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a vampire so scared!” “How could you bite him?!”

But Spike had the serious question.

“Why did you let him go, Buffy?”

“I wanted him to go back and tell the others how I’m different now, cause I’m sure there are still more in this plot. I want him to let them know what we’ll do to them if they try to hurt Dawn or Wesley again. I want them to know to stay away from you too.”

Sighing as weariness suddenly swept across her like a clammy blanket, Buffy looked at Faith. “I want to get word to the gang in LA so they can try and find the ship or boat or whatever. I’m betting one of the ones here heads that way. Can you let them know, Faith?”

“I wish I could, B. But I’ve got to stay with Dawn and Wes here. Besides, there’s no guarantee that anyone there could see me, ya know?”

“Buffy, I’ll call Cordelia as soon as we return to your house, if that’s alright with you?”

“Sure, Wes. Probably faster anyway. It’s okay, Faith. I just thought maybe Angel would like to talk with you.”

Buffy turned to take Spike’s hand.

“Let’s go home. I’m really tired all of the sudden.”

“Right you are, love. Want me to carry you?”

“Only if you want to limp for the rest of your unlife, fang-boy.”

“Limpin’ it is then.”

Spike grinned as he scooped her up in his arms and headed toward home, her head nestled into the curve of his neck.

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

Giles finally met with the remainder of the Council officials and had been sworn in as the Acting Head of the Watcher’s Council. His first act was assigning a task force to track Travers down. He cautioned the men not to try and take Travers or try to kill him, just report back with the vampire’s location.

His second act was to slip quietly upstairs to Quentin Travers private quarters, locking the door behind him as he started a search of the room.

After an hour and a half, Giles was edgy, frustrated and almost at his wits end. He was no closer to finding the cache of books he knew were somewhere in the room than he’d been when he first locked the door behind him.

Taking a seat in the over-stuffed chair at the desk in the corner of the room, Giles searched the room with his eyes, while his mind twisted, seeking out every scrap of information he could remember about anything that might give him a clue as to where the books were hidden.

Seeing nothing that seemed out of place, Giles stood, and began to examine the desk itself, hoping desperately for a clue of some kind.

On the left hand side of the expanse of softly gleaming wood, a tarnished silver pen set rested. Giles lifted one of the pens from its holder, making sure it actually wrote.

It did.

Replacing the pen, he lifted the second one, only to find that it too was fully functional.

Placing it back in its holder, the small, swiveled holder did what it was designed to do and swiveled out of place, further frustrating the searching Watcher.

Reaching to reposition the small hollow bit of silver for the sake or orderliness, Giles heard a faint grating sound as the bit of metal shifted.

Breath quickening, Giles slowly twisted the penholder back toward the wall. As it moved, so did a section of the wall, directly above the desk. Tucked inside the hidden bookcase were about a dozen old, dusty, tattered books of assorted size and thickness.

Glancing about for something to hold the books, the new Head Watcher swiftly pulled the pillow from beneath the neatly made covers of the bed and stripped the case from the feather-stuffed plush-ness. Dropping the case on the floor, he tucked the naked pillow back under the covers, folding them under the mattress, erasing all sign of disturbance.

Catching up the case from the floor, Giles stepped back to the hidden bookcase and gently began placing the old and fragile books inside the cloth carrier.

Working swiftly, he only glanced at the titles while transferring the items to the waiting pillowcase. A small red book, with a name impressed in faded gold, caught his attention. Even thought it was faded, Giles could clearly make out the name Julius Bryce. Feeling a moment of excitement, he tucked the small book into the inner coat pocket of his jacket, instead of placing this one in the pillowcase with the rest.

With it safely hidden for the moment, he claimed the remaining two books, adding them to the small pile in the cloth case.

Moments later, he shifted the pen holder back to its original position, watching the retracted cover slide out of the wall, hiding the opening again as if it had never existed.

Giles picked up his cloth bag of ‘loot’ and unlocking the door; he flicked off the light switch. He exited the room and pulled the door tightly shut behind him before he walked down the hallway to the stairs, to his car and then to his flat.

He wanted to get there as quickly as possible with what he carried.

Settling into the seat of the car and turning the ignition, Giles ferverently hoped Willow had found the shop and picked up supplies.

Before he could read the book currently nestled in his jacket, he knew he had to ward not only her room, but also the entire flat, reinforcing every bit of magickal security on the place.

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

Angel stepped into the small room of the old house. It was in one of the oldest sections of Los Angles; boarded up, over grown and had the look of a building years deserted.

Angel knew otherwise.

From below his feet, he heard the sounds of movement as the Kalderash vampires in LA climbed the hidden stairs to meet him; the meeting he’d requested of them.

The door opened on well-oiled hinges to reveal a tall, thin man with the curving hook of nose Angel remembered on many of the Romany men of a hundred years ago.

“You are Angel, yes?”

“I am.”

“Good, good. The Elders wait for you below. Follow me please.”

He turned back into the stygian darkness of the staircase, following it into the depths under the old house.

Angel followed the man, bumping into him as he stopped.

Vampiric senses not withstanding, Angel couldn’t see a thing in the thick velvet darkness that wrapped around him. Finally standing still, he could sense the wall in front of his guide, but then was momentarily blinded as the man opened a door, flooding the landing with light from an inner room.

The corridor ahead of him appeared to have been carved from the living rock beneath the city, as it stretched ahead several yards before curving around a corner. The walls were studded with old, rusted brackets that held gently sizzling torches.

The light didn’t seem nearly as bright after a few moments and Angel’s guide nodded slightly then turned away, heading down the corridor.

After several minutes of travel and various twisting corridors, all of which looked alike, the man stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, studded with rusted metal points that matched the heavy wrought hinges.

“The Elders await you here. I shall return when you are ready to depart.”

The man seemed to just simply vanish several feet from the dark-haired vampire.

* Hmmmm, must have stepped into a side tunnel…*

Angel gently knocked at the heavy door before grasping the handle, twisted in intricate designs beneath its patina of rust.

Inside the room, several older appearing men and women sat behind a rough table.

More torches illuminated the room, showing the vampire a small chair between himself and the table.

“Come in, Angelus. Tell us why you have requested this meeting with us after these many years. Sit, child.”

Angel tried not to stare as he settled carefully into the chair, putting him directly opposite the older woman.

“Ah, I’m don’t really go by ‘Angelus’ any longer. I’m known as Angel now. Thank you for seeing me.”

“And were you also known as ‘Angel’ when you killed our Janna?”

The question was asked by a heavily mustached man, dressed in the fashion the Romany had favored over a hundred years previous.

“Ah… No. And I don’t know how to apologize enough for what I did then. I wasn’t… I wasn’t the person I’ve been for the last hundred years.”

He sat quietly, unsure of what to expect, unsure if he should even voice his request, having been reminded of Jenny Calendar almost immediately by these Elders.

“Hush, Enois. We know the circumstances. That you disagree is of no matter.”

The woman chided the man before she turned back to Angel.

“What would you of us, Angel?”

“I, ah… I’m not sure what to say now. I had a request but perhaps I should apologize for taking your time and leave instead.”

“No! Do not pay attention to Enois. We know of your actions, the circumstances, the results. There is much we know of you, vampire; and little that we do not know, however there is much that YOU do not know. Make your request and perhaps we shall share our information with you.”

“Ah… Okay. I’d really like to apologize for what happened with Jenny and her uncle, as well as what I did so long ago. I’m really sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much, considering my actions, but I’ve tried to atone for it. I know you may feel that the request I want to make is very selfish of me, but I’d still like to…”

The elderly woman simply nodded, acknowledging his words as well as letting him know he should continue.

“What I wanted to ask was is there a way to remove the clause from my soul. I-I feel like I’ve been doing all I can to try and help make a difference in the world and I’d like to simply have a normal relationship with someone without endangering those around me.”

The old woman smiled at him through darkly stained teeth. The man she’d named Enois frowned, yet said nothing. The remaining three people at the table simply watched as they had been, still saying not a word.

“Ahhhh! We wondered how long it would take for you to ask this of us once you knew of the curse. It speaks well of you to have knowingly borne it for this long.

Before I give you an answer to your request, let me tell you some of what we have held so closely to our bosom.

Elani, who cursed you so many years ago, took it upon herself to change the ritual that brings the soul to the undead. There has been much disagreement among the Kalderash these many years as to her right to do so, but it was accepted as the blood-debt. For Yonda, the girl you killed, was her favorite niece. Many thought you should at least know of the danger to your soul that lurked within you, yet none spoke.

We know of the night shared between you and the Slayer. Yet it was not she that caused the spell to rip your soul from you. It was simply a moment of true happiness you experienced with her. You could have had the same moment with the taste of one of your ice cream sundaes, had that moment happened.

This is why many of us felt it too dangerous to alter the ritual in such a way. We have members of our clan, as you discovered, who are also vampires. Just as Yanni and Yanose are, just as the one you met in Sunnydale, just as we are.”

She waited while the import of what she had uttered, sank into Angel’s mind before she continued. The vampire’s look of shock had been the reaction she had sought.

“When Janna recovered the ritual and translated it, she used the original. The one without the curse in it. So when the little witch did the ritual, she gave you back a soul but it has no curse included with it. You are free to seek happiness if you desire. We know of the things you do, the things foretold of you in the prophecies. We saw in the stars when your path changed from what had been to what is now, after you again became Angelus.

So I would say to you, continue to walk the path of the light. Allow your Seer to walk that path with you, for the path of the Slayer now marches with another… Another vampire with a soul. You know of who we speak. He is your childe no matter who had the siring of him.”

The woman stood up from her chair, bracing both hands against the table as she leaned toward Angel.

“Your son will be restored in the days to come as well, yet that path shall not be smooth. All children are worthwhile though, are they not? You shall learn. All shall be well.

Do not seek us out again, Angel. We shall contact you if there be need, but you will not find us again.”

“T-thank you. I don’t know what to say to all you’ve told me…”

“Say nothing, except to those who matter. Your guide awaits you.”

Angel whirled in his seat to find the thin man standing behind him, although the vampire had heard no sound at all. Turning back toward the table to rise from the chair, he was amazed to see no one across the expanse of wood. Again, there had been no sound.

Shaking himself slightly, Angel stood and stepped away from the chair to face the waiting guide.

“I’m ready. Thank you. How do they DO that?”

The man’s only answer was a slight enigmatic smile before he turned to lead Angel through the twisting mass of corridors.

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

The bedraggled vampire rushed into the building, hurrying across the rooms and through doors until he reached the innermost one.

Seated at a rickety table was a man impeccably dressed, reading the daily news by lamplight. Hearing the clatter of the entering vampire, the man looked up, a sneer of distain on his face.

“What exactly is the reason you present yourself to me like the uncouth menial you are?”

Travers’ gaze rested unerringly on the begrimed cap that only partially covered the vampire’s greasy hair.

Snatching the offending cap from his head and trying to get himself under control and knowing how unwelcome his news was going to be, the vampire took a deep and un-needed breath.

“Sor’.. We got word from the States…. T-they failed, sor’.”

The vampire ducked his head, cowering in the dirt on the floor at the man’s feet.

“Please don’t punish me, sor’! I’s just the messeng’r!”

“I understand that you’re the messenger. Get up and at least act like a man. What happened? How did they fail?”

The miserable vampire stood twisting his cap in both hands as he faced Quentin, explaining the information that had been sent earlier that day to a distant safe house.

“… and he said she bit him! But then let him go…”

“Hmmmm. It’s obvious she wanted him to get the message back to me, just as he’s done.”

Travers stood suddenly, dropping his newspaper on the table.

“I’ve heard of this happening once before, I think.

We have to get into the Watcher’s keep tonight. There are things from my room that I need. Go get the rest of your scruffy companions together. I’ll need to give them instructions on the diversion I need so I can get inside.”

Thankful to possess his unlife for at least a few moments longer, the anxious vampire hurried to do as he’d been told.

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

Giles entered his flat, closing the door carefully behind him as he glanced around, checking whether or not Willow had returned from the magick shop.

He heard muted noise from the kitchen and hoped it was her.

To be on the safe side, he hurried through the flat to his room, stowing the cache of books in the floor of his wardrobe before heading to the small kitchen.

“Oh, hi Giles. I thought I heard you come in. Have a good day?”

Willow had a linen towel tucked into her belt as she stirred something on the stove in a large pot.

“I made you a pot of tea. I just hope I did it right. I’ll have dinner ready in a few minutes.”

“Willow... You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I know, Giles. But after I got back from the shop, I was in a really good mood and just felt like making dinner. It’s not anything special, just spaghetti and a salad.”

“Well, that sounds quite good. I’ve not stopped for anything since an early tea at the Council. I take it you found the shop without difficulty then?”

“Oh yeah! Angie was just the greatest person! I love her accent! She helped me get the stuff together, although she did change one or two things… But she also made a pot of tea and insisted that I sit and talk with her a while. She was just so interesting!”

“It sounds as if you certainly had a day of it then. Yes, she is quite nice and I know she gets somewhat bored at the shop all day… Accent? She has a very slight one, but nothing of comment, Willow.”

Giles looked perplexed.

Willow adored his accent as well and knew that was why he’d never noticed Angie’s. She simply smiled at him as she remarked, “I know it’s just my ‘yankee’ ears, Giles. I put the basket of stuff on the coffee table if you wanna look over it while I finish dinner.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll do that. I have some papers to go over tonight so we need to do the warding as soon as possible.”

“Ummm! Let me get this finished, then I can cover everything while we start the work. You know we don’t want to eat until afterwards.”

Willow lifted the large pot from the burner, draining it in the sink before running cold water over the noodles, draining them again and covering them.

She pulled the towel away from her waist, folding it on the small counter.

“I know things are going to get cooled off while we do this, but why did you hurry the process with the cold water on the pasta?”

“Oh, it’s a trick Joyce.., Ms. Summers’ showed me once. It stops the cooking so your noodles don’t get all mushy. We ready?”

“Oh. Oh, well, that makes sense. Yes, let’s check what we have, especially since Angie felt free to substitute.”

Witch and Watcher moved into the living room and began pulling waxed paper twists of herbs from the basket. Willow had already removed the candles and set them into holders in the room she was using. She’d anointed and blessed each of them as Angie had suggested, so as soon as the warding was done, she could simply light the candles and allow them to do their work.

As Giles looked at the sales slip, she explained the candles to him and surprisingly, he thoroughly approved the idea.

Guiding Willow through the preparations for the coming ritual, they quickly had all ready.

As one, Giles and Willow moved through the steps of the warding, each lending energy and support to the other. Each adding their own energy to the shields they placed.

Half an hour or so later, they had finally finished. Each went to their separate room to change. While there, Willow also said the quick invocations over the various candles, lighting them with the small, pure white beeswax taper.

She quickly changed and washed her hands, heading back to the kitchen to warm up the dinner she’d prepared, while Giles laid out two places at the table in the wonderfully windowed nook.

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

Quentin slipped quickly into the door of his now deserted room, reaching for the switch of the small lamp on the table next to the doorway.

As the dim light cast enormous shadows across the expanse of the room, the vampire turned immediately to his desk, moving the specific pen into a new position in its holder.

The wall grated slightly as the hidden compartment opened.

Rage rose like a thick red mist behind his eyes, filling his throat with the sour, bitter taste of defeat when he saw the hidden bookcase was empty.

Clenching his hands into fists so tight he felt his nails cut semi-circular marks, Quentin struggled to not give into the anger filling him. He knew he had to keep quiet to make good his exit from the building housing the group of second most dangerous people to him, the Watchers.

They were all trained to kill vampires… He’d helped train most of them himself at some point. He was equally sure that by now, they knew what had happened to him and would be willing to kill him on sight.

A grim smile caressed his thin lips as he reflected that some of them would have been more than willing to kill him even before he’d become what they had all been trained to despise.

Finally calming, the previous head Watcher knew he had to get into Melford’s office before leaving the building. If the London address of Rupert Giles would be anywhere, it would be there, and not being a fool, Quentin knew as well as if he’d seen the deed done; Rupert Giles had those books!

***********

*Melford always has been careless about his office… Hmmm, what have we here? Well, this should make things much more interesting. Now to get those books back before he actually has time to read them all and find the information…. *

Quentin dropped the letter back on the assistant’s desk.

The office was never locked and had been simple to enter. The finding of the letter with the address and the information about Giles and his new ‘guest’ had been an even bigger stroke of luck than the vampire had hoped for.

Moving swiftly, he opened the window in the office, dropping lightly to the ground. He covered the landscaped acreage rapidly but carefully, as he clung to the shadows, his new plans growing with each step.

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

Cordelia punched Lindsey in the arm as they moved through the various exercises of her normal training.

Good in his own fashion, the ex-Wolfram and Hart attorney didn’t have the training the rest of Angel Investigations had received, usually from Angel, however, this particular blow had nothing to do with ‘normal training’ and Lindsey grimaced, stopping to look at Cordelia.

“What did you do that for? That wasn’t part of the routine and besides, it hurt!”

“It was part of my ‘routine’, as of right now. You KNEW what happened with Angel and Buffy and didn’t tell me! So what do you know about what he’s doing now that I don’t know?”

“I have no idea what he’s doing right now, Cordelia. I can take a guess but that’s all. I’d rather not say anything. Hell, you know how he can get!”

“Yeah, I know. So guess anyway!”

Lindsey took advantage of the lull to pick up a towel, wiping his face and gaining a few moments to consider his words before he replied.

“There was a vampire that showed up while we were in Sunnydale. He seemed more like Angel than the usual brutes, you know? I think someone said he was part of some gypsy clan even though he was a vampire. Maybe since it’s the same clan that gave Angel his soul in the first place, Angel’s probably gone to see them about getting that whole ‘losing his soul’ part of the thing removed. You know, after you two finally admitting you’re in love with each other…

Besides, Cordy… if the man had a ‘thing’ with his ex-girlfriend, how was I suppose to know you cared as long as he didn’t turn all evil again?”

“That’s no excuse. He’s my friend, of course I’d want to know!”

Lindsey dropped the hand rubbing his damp hair with the towel and gently took Cordelia’s arm instead.

“If I thought that telling you about what he’d done would have helped me out even a little bit, I would have in a minute. But I saw the way you looked at him.”

“Helped you out? What do you mean, Lindsey? Helped you out how, with what?”

Cordelia looked into the blue eyes of the man they all used to hate but saw only a sad and confused friend now.

“Not a thing, Cordy. I’m gonna catch a shower.”

Releasing her arm, he leaned just slightly to press a gentle kiss on her cheek at the corner of her mouth, knowing that was as close as he’d get to her, then turned away, heading toward the door.

“Lindsey?”

He stopped at the question in her voice as she called him, yet didn’t turn.

“Yeah, Cordy?”

“Thank you, Lindsey. And thank you for being my friend.”

He felt some of the tension slide away from his shoulders.

“You’re welcome, Cordelia. Thank you too.”

Lindsey walked through the door, heading upstairs, his thoughts heavy.

* You’d think I could manage to fall for someone that wasn’t in love with Angel sooner or later. How tha’hell did I manage to have the same exact taste in women as that irritating vampire of a boss? *

His mind had no answers for him as he stepped into the steaming spray of water.

**********

Cordelia watched as Lindsey walked out the door. She’d realized the meaning of his words, calling him as if to call him back. Yet if he’d walked back to her, she didn’t know what she would have done.

She suppressed the urge to run after him, hold him until the bruised look left his eyes. She knew it was there because she’d glimpsed it before but hadn’t understood it’s meaning until now.

The tall brunette could imagine quite well how he felt. First Darla, then, she imagined, he’d probably been attracted to Buffy while in Sunnydale and now herself.

Cordelia remembered when it seemed that every man she met and had actually liked, had been attracted to Buffy and how it had made her feel. She suspected Lindsey was having similar thoughts, with all the women he was attracted to caring about Angel.

A half remembered comment surfaced for her to mull over, creating a determined look on her face as she too headed up the stairs and her own shower.

* As much as I want Angel to hurry back, I hope I have enough time to do a bit of checking first… But brood-boy had better get his butt back soon!*

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

Giles settled back against the pile of pillows he’d thrown on his bed, adjusted the small lamp with one hand while he opened the small red book with the other.

A dusty smell rose from the page, that familiar odor of a very old book. He liked to think it was a combination of old paper, ink and the thoughts of the person that rested on the page, even though he knew that was a bit of romantic fantasy on his part.

The script was neat and even, surprisingly easy to read.

Yanni assures me that the more a Slayer defeats death in resurrection, the more like the demon she does become, yet always seeks out the beast to kill even as she will seek one who wears a semblance of kindliness, with which to have a child.

The line of ink trailed off the edge of the paper.

Giles looked carefully through the pages of the small book, finding no further information.

He understood why the information was dangerous and why Travers had kept it hidden; yet it raised more questions than the ones it had answered. The knowledge of the actual origins of Slayers and vampires, not to mention how the Council had bred and manipulated them in the past, as well as his own ancestor’s involvement, was just the type of sordid secret Travers enjoyed hording for his own personal use.

Glancing at the clock beside the bed, Giles saw it was after 2am. Despairing of any decent sleep at all, he carefully tucked the small book between the mattresses of his bed, turned out the lights and rolled over in preparation for sleep.

After several minutes of tossing, unable to find a comfortable position and feeling as though he was forgetting something important, Giles suddenly realized what it was he was unconsciously seeking.

The knowledge raised a line of chill down his spine as he clamped down on that corner of his mind before pulling a pillow to him and wrapping his arms tightly around it, he finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

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

Willow lay awake reading one of the books Angie loaned her. She was struggling to keep her eyes open before finally turning off the light.

The room felt much safer than the previous night, but sleep did not readily come as Willow endlessly turned recent events, both here in England and in Sunnydale, over in her mind.

The young witch was very aware of the empty space beside her and even as she missed Tara’s presence, it was the memory of warmth beside her the previous evening that flashed across her mind’s eye.

Trying to squelch the image before it could become a thought, Willow firmly told herself to go to sleep, turning once more in an effort to do so.

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

“He has the book of Julius. He will have read it by now, that one.”

“Then it is time we spoke with him.”

“There are more reasons than just the book, Yanose.”

“Yes. I think perhaps the other first, though.”

“After the entry of evil into the House, he may stay late. It will give us time. We shall plan for it.”

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

Willow and Giles ate breakfast in relative quiet. Both felt somewhat irritable from a poor night’s sleep, but attempted to carry on a normal conversation; Giles expressing his wish for Willow to visit with Angie whenever possible.

“She’s the person I mentioned wishing you to work with on more of the ‘women’s mysteries’ as they seems to be called now days.”

“Cool. She’s a nice person. I felt really comfortable with her, kinda like we were old friends.”

“She does have that effect on people, I’ve noticed. Oh… excuse me.”

Giles rose from the table to answer the telephone just inside the door of the living room.

After listening more than talking, the older man replaced the receiver, returning to the table, a grim expression over his face.

“Giles, what’s wrong? It’s not Buffy or Dawn or…”

“No. No, nothing like that, Willow. It seems there was a break-in at the Council house last evening. They suspect it was Travers. I want you to be very careful. I may need to be there after dark this evening because of this and.. There is a very real possibility that he knows where I live now and that you’re here. He’d strike out at you to hurt Buffy and Dawn, not to mention getting back at me. Promise you’ll be careful?”

“Y-yeah. Why do they think it was Travers?”

“There was a letter in Melford’s office that mentioned our arrival date as well as my return address here. It was probably the note Travers left scrawled on the bottom of that letter, would be my best guess.”

The new Head Watcher’s tone was exceedingly dry with sarcasm that did not bode well for Melford once Giles reached the Council house.

“That would do it, I guess. Of course I’ll be careful. And we did do the warding on the place last night… So you’ll be careful too, right?”

“Yes. Go visit Angie and let her know of this new development. She may have additional safeguards we might wish to employ. But be certain to be back well before dark, Willow. Lock all the doors and windows. I have to go, but I’ll call you later to check on you.”

He set his dishes in the sink, running a bit of water in them before catching up his jacket from the peg and grabbing his briefcase sitting beside the door.

“Come lock the door behind me.”

“Oh, right. Be careful, Giles.”

Willow moved quickly to the open door as he stood near it, preparing to leave.

Giles had no further reply other than to quickly drop a kiss on the top of her head before pulling the door closed behind him, leaving Willow to stare at the painted wooden surface, surprised by the gesture.

Drawing her wits around her again, the redhead locked the door and walked back to the table.

The jellied toast no longer looked appetizing, so she dropped it in the garbage, washing both sets of dishes before she finished the remainder of her tea, then heading to her room to change clothes before going out.

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

Willow spent the day with Angie at her shop.

It seemed to be a relief for both women to talk together; Willow, about Tara, new feelings and the odd occurrences since she’d arrived, while Angie spoke of magick, ethics, paths and touched on the ‘women’s mysteries’ Giles had spoken of.

“I had no idea that Giles was talking about you working with me, Angie. This is so cool!”

“Och, child! Did ye think he’d be findin’ a witch just hangin’ ‘bout on every tree? When he told me of ye, I’d have no’ heard anyone’ other than meself helpin’ ye.”

Angie looked hard at Willow, but with concern and affection in her gaze, “An’ I was right! Ye need the help and so did he! ‘Tis late, Lil’one. Best ye be headin’ back to tha’ flat and lockin’ yer’self inside.”

“Yeah, I know. I just really enjoy the time we spend together, Angie. Do you think Giles will be alright?”

Willow spoke while she gathered her things, including more books on loan from Angie’s private collection.

“Life has its rough pits along the road, child. But he’ll be well and so will ye. Give us a hug and be on yer way. Tell yer comp’ny I send me regards.”

Giving Willow no chance to ask further questions, Angie clasped her in a quick hug and pushed her out the door, retreating to the rear of the shop after locking the door behind the young witch.

“Aye, an’ ‘t’will be tha’ healin of tha’ both of’em.”

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

Willow walked along, puzzled by Angie’s sudden odd behavior and even stranger statements. Deciding she’d visit again tomorrow, Willow was determined to ask her what the unusual comments about ‘company’ had meant.

The remainder of the way back to Giles’ flat, the young redhead gazed around her, taking in the sights, such as they were.

There were the usual small booth-type affairs for bus stops; several very charming cottage houses nestled back from the street, shielded by the tall spires of softly coloured flowers in their charming gardens.

Even stranger than the little shops tucked cheek-to-jowl with the cottages, were the oddly placed, several story buildings, much like the one where Giles had his own flat.

The deep grey drizzle of the morning had cleared, leaving a startling blue sky, draped with swags of puffy white clouds. In the distance, Willow occasionally caught a glimpse of the purple tops of distant hills.

She felt as though the deep depression that had dogged her steps and filled her heart was finally beginning to lift. The memory of Tara wasn’t the bone-aching grief it had been and the thoughts of how she’d love to show Tara everything here or just tell her about it brought a curve to Willow’s lips rather than a tear of sadness. As she wished she had a way to share things with Tara, a half remembered spell she’d seen in one of Angie’s books gave her the perfect way to ‘tell’ the recent events.

* That’s it! I can just write her a letter and tell her everything, burn it and let the wind lift the ash to her above. That’ll work great.*

Further cheered from her thoughts, Willow hurried ‘home’, intent on writing Tara.

She pushed open the foyer door of the building, ascending the stairs to the second-floor flat only to encounter a sudden sense of disturbance in the wards they’d placed.

Gathering her energies, Willow carefully unlocked and opened the door.

Peering inside, she saw two vague shapes sitting in the deep shadows of the living room, the curtains tightly closed, even though she knew she’d left the drapes open when she left hours earlier.

Filling her hand with a small ball of green fire to use as light or a weapon should she need it, Willow stepped squarely into the room.

“We mean you no harm, little one. I know you will know my name. I am Yanni. This is Yanose next to me. We have been waiting to speak with you.”

“I do know the name, but how do I know it’s really you?”

The closer, dimly seen figure, which was obviously female in the glowing green light, chuckled before she answered.

“Do you think that just any vampire could cross the barrier you placed, or that Mr. Giles has invited great numbers of vampires into his home? Come, child. Keep your fire, but put on the light so you may see us better.”

“You have a point. I know Giles would have let you in and other than that, I can think of only two other vampires he’s ever invited into his home. But just stand still and let me get the light…”

Willow sat the bag she carried on the floor and reached to flick on the switch.

Soft illumination filled the room from the small linen-shaded brass lamp on the table next to the door, as well as from the tall antique looking torchere in the far corner.

Looking at the two people standing before her, Willow saw a woman who had been in her thirties, she thought, when she’d been Turned. She was attractive in a handsome rather than beautiful way, yet still striking. Her hair was heavy, thick, a deep brown like well-polished expensive wood. She wore a simply cut, dusty red dress that set off her hair. Around her hips was tied a multi-coloured fringed scarf, the reds emphasized by the background of the dress.

Behind her stood a man about the same height as Giles, looking almost like a younger version of the Watcher. He was dressed in plain dark brown pants and a dark, dusty. burnt orange ‘peasant’ shirt, much like the ones Willow knew had been popular in the sixties and occasionally showed up in the second hand stores. She was willing to bet this one was an original.

Closing her hand, she extinguished the ball of flame, absorbing the energy back into herself as she stepped away from the door.

“I believe you. I know that Yanose was one of Giles’ ancestors before he was Turned, and the resemblance is startling! So I’m gonna go with you being who you say you are.

That said, how did you get past the wards and why are you here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Mr. Giles always leaves us a way in past any warding he does. As for why we are here, we have need to speak with you of an important matter, Willow. Why not get yourself something to drink and come sit with us. We have much to discuss.”

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

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