Willow made a pot of tea while Yanni put together a small plate of sandwiches and crackers, in proper English fashion, taking care to explain that while they received no nourishment from the food, they still enjoyed the taste and the simple ritual of tea.

Some time later, the tea had been reduced to sips remaining in three cups and a few crumbs on the small plate.

At times during the discussion, Willow had almost wished for a bit of something stronger than the tea, but she had calmed as she considered the ideas the two Kalderash vampires had presented to her.

“And you think he’ll go for this idea?”

“It is necessary, therefore it is up to you to make sure that he, ah… ‘goes for it’, as you phrase it.”

Yanose grinned at her.

“Had it not been for my own discretions, he would not be here and so much more would have been at risk.”

“Yeah, sometimes the Powers That Be seem to just take a hand and do that kinda thing to us.”

Willow looked thoughtful as she pondered the recent events in her life that could fall in that category. Events that had led to her being here in England, to having the previous conversation with the two vampires. Events that had placed her in a position to fulfill what the Powers saw as a need, if Yanni was right.

“Thus so. We have never been reluctant to offering a hand to help the Powers, so we came to speak with you to that end. If it will ease your mind, write your letter to your lost love and ask of her advice on the matter we have discussed. We have always found that such things are helpful and are answered. The answer may not come as you expect or in such a plain form as a letter, yet it will come. Of that we are sure.”

“It sounds like a good idea. Are you planning to talk to Giles about this too?”

“No, we may not do that. We shall have to depend on you to take care of the problem, Willow. We shall leave you now so that you may write your letter before you speak with him.”

Yanni stood, as did Yanose. The attractive vampire woman stepped closer to Willow, who had risen from her chair as they had, brushing Willow’s hair with one hand as she gently laid a cool kiss on the witch’s forehead.

“We can see ourselves out. We shall talk again later.”

The two vampires turned toward the door just as the telephone rang, shattering the quiet of the room, causing Willow to jump slightly.

She answered the telephone to find Giles on the other end, calling as he’d promised, to check on her.

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

As SHE had promised, Willow said nothing to Giles about her unusual visit of that evening.

She reassured him she was well, spoke for a moment of the new books borrowed from Angie and mentioned her plans to write some letters and perhaps read for a while.

Before they ended the call, the Watcher promised to be home within the next two hours.

Willow spent a great deal of time writing her letter to Tara, going into the same detail on paper that she would have with her lost lover, had she been there in person.

Finally satisfied that she’d covered everything, Willow said a small incantation over the letter, placed it in a small copper brazier, then with heavy electric torch in hand, took the items outside.

She stayed carefully inside the range of the exterior lights once she stepped out the rear door of the building and lit the letter in the brazier.

As it burned, she chanted, sending the ash spiraling higher and higher, propelling it toward Tara.

The last scraps of the papers were just glowing fragments as Willow looked up, seeing the ash where it appeared to trail across the face of the full pale moon above her.

“So mote it be.

I miss you, love.”

“You’d better hope someone misses you, LOVE!”

Willow turned at the sound of the harsh voice, gathering fire in her hand as she did, but the vampire moved too quickly for her. Darkness rapidly followed the heels of the heavy pain where the demon struck her head.

The brazier fell to the ground, forgotten and alone, a small fleck of glowing ash remaining somehow in its depths while two vampires gathered Willow up, carrying her away in the darkness.

Behind the shelter afforded by the trees, two sets of eyes watched as the young witch was kidnapped.

“I do not like this at all. I worry for her.”

“We knew this would be. It is necessary, although still disturbing. I will send one to follow and join them, seeing her safe.”

“If that is the best we may do now….”

“It is. I dislike it very much, but it is.”

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

Buffy grabbed the telephone on the second ring, surprised to hear Giles on the other end. He’d already let her know that he and Willow had arrived safely in England.

For some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, the sound of his voice caused Buffy’s stomach to knot, while at the same time, she felt the change start inside of her.

“Giles, what’s wrong? Something is, cause I’m having a really bad case of the wiggins right about now.”

The anxiety Giles felt for Willow, wrapped itself around his words like a drug, heavy, weighing them down, “ Willow has been kidnapped, Buffy. We think it was Travers. There are Watchers looking for where he may have taken her. Probably to his lair, where ever that may be.”

“I don’t know what I can do from here, Giles, but I’ll try everything I can. Willow has such strong magick now, Giles… she’ll be alright. I know she will.”

“Thank you, Buffy. I needed that reassurance. I wanted to let you know, but I have to go now, to… ah, assist with the search. I’ll contact you again as soon as we hear anything.”

Placing the receiver back on its base, Giles dragged his other hand across his face in a futile attempt to clear away the fear that held him so tightly in its grasp; fear for the redheaded witch who’d crept under his skin.

Never releasing the telephone receiver, he picked it up again as he dialed yet another number. This one closer, offering perhaps more help than reassurances.

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

“Spike! That was Giles on the phone! Travers has kidnapped Willow. We need to try and think of something, anything we can do, to find out more about where he might have her. Maybe one of the remaining vampires….”

Fear for her friend was thick in the room as Spike, Wesley and Dawn rushed to the older Slayer’s side.

“We’ve got to do something, we have to help.”

“Buffy, I simply don’t know what we can accomplish from here to assist Giles in finding Willow in England.”

Wesley tried to be the voice of reason, even if it was a worried voice.

“I can’t just sit here, Wes, while Willow is missing and Giles, is in danger!”

Looking at the air about her, Buffy shouted, “Faith! Faith, where are you? I need you here NOW, Faith!”

“B! Stop yelling! Jeeze, you’ll make my ears try to disappear to get some quiet! I’m here. And I already know Willow’s missing.”

Faith had simply appeared in their midst at Buffy’s frantic call.

“Then can you go help them find her? You can go places they can’t, guide them back.”

“Buffy, I can’t do that. Even if I knew where she was. I’m tied here with Dawn and Wesley. Completely, Buffy. I can’t go anywhere else. I’m sorry. I really am.”

Buffy reached for Spike’s arm, for comfort against the image of Willow’s danger that loomed large before her.

“Then what can we do if you can’t go, Faith? How do we help them?”

“B, go talk to the one person here that can go, that can help.”

Faith knew she was treading on dangerous ground. She couldn’t afford to reveal too much or she’d get herself in trouble with the Powers, but she could give hints…

“Who, Faith? Who is here except you that can cross those miles in an instant and possibly help Willow? None of us can do that. Anya might be able to, but not all vengeancy demon like she’s gotten. So who else is there?”

Anger was gaining, replacing the fear as Buffy pulled the more violent emotion around her like a sheltering bulwark.

Exasperated, Faith explained, “B, this afterlife thing is a whole lot more than you ever got to see of it. They got rules too, and I can’t get around them. Kinda still like being in prison. I can give you hints without getting in dutch with’em, but you gotta figure it out. I’d just do it quick like, you know?”

Buffy looked perplexed, as did Spike and Wesley. This time it was Dawn that made the connection.

“Tara! Tara can get to Willow if anybody can!”

“Dawn, Tara’s dead.”

“I KNOW that! It’s why she can get to her, don’t you see? We’ve got to go talk to Tara.”

Light suddenly filling Buffy’s face, she released Spike’s arm to grasp Dawn’s hand, pulling her sister out the door as they ran to the cemetery. Wesley and Spike followed, also at a run, while Faith stayed right with the two Slayers, saying, “Good work, Dawnie! I knew you could do it.”

Several feet behind, Spike muttered tersely to the lone Watcher.

“Yer falling behind. We gotta keep up with them.”

“This.. is.. the best.. I can.. do. And I can’t do…this well… and talk, Spike.”

“Fine.”

Spike grabbed Wesley’s arm, pulling the Watcher along with his own strength and power, as they inched closer to the three speeding Slayers.

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

Reaching Tara’s grave, Buffy and Dawn took only seconds to recover their breath. Realizing they had no idea what to do next, they simply gave voice to their pleas, hoping Faith had been right and that Tara would hear them wherever she was.

“Tara. Tara, if you can hear us, Willow is in danger! She’s in England with Giles and has been kidnapped by vampires. It’s a long story, Tara, but you have to help her!”

“Willow took all the magick from the books at the shop. Quentin Travers has become a vampire and is out for blood. Willow is in England to learn how to control her magick. Travers wants to use her to get to all of us, Tara.”

Dawn summed up quickly as Buffy just looked at her sister.

“Guess not that long a story after all.”

Buffy fell silent, letting Dawn talk to Tara, since the younger girl seemed to be doing a better job of explaining the situation.

Only seconds later, the air shimmered around the grave and Tara stood there before them.

Her name echoed through the cemetery as each one exclaimed at seeing the blonde Witch.

They’d buried her wearing one of her favorite pale green dresses, but she stood before them in a beautifully draped robe of midnight blue, intricate embroidery graced the hem of the shirt and sleeves, as well as added a sparkling touch across the neckline.

Her voice, when she spoke to them, was soft, ephemeral, a whisper of wind through the trees….

“I know. I had to be asked though, to save her.”

The misty apparition reached out a hand toward the group, yet tried to touch no one.

“I’ve missed all of you. But I’ll never be far from the ones I love. Believe that. I have to go now, Willow is in danger and needs me.”

Tara vanished from sight, only a lingering scent of wildflowers in the silent, dark cemetery to indicate her previous presence.

“Okay, now I need a drink.” Dawn announced to the world at large.

She heard no dissenting voices as they turned toward home.

At the last second, Spike turned back to the grave to leave a handful of stones atop the headstone, letting everyone know their lost witch might be gone, yet never forgotten. He’d almost forgotten the old custom.

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

Angie arrived quickly at Giles’ flat, then spent several minutes trying to calm the frantic man.

“Now, let’s go outside to where the wee bairn was taken. There might well be something we can use there.”

Angel headed toward the door even as Giles attempted to dissuade her.

“We’ve been over that entire area, Angie. There are signs of a scuffle and nothing more.”

The older witch continued to walk down the hallway toward the back stairs.

“When was the last time ye won an argument with me, Rupert? D’ye think ye’ll be startin’ now? Ye have to know what to see, lovie.”

“How do you know she was at the back of the building, Angie?

I never told you that.”

Suspicion edged his words as he struggled to deny it a foothold. This was his friend. She was a good person. Willow trusted her, and he’d trusted her with Willow.

“She worked a spell. I felt it. She’d not ha’ done so in front for all tha’ pryin’ eyes, Rupert. Dinnae be daft now.”

Concentrating on Willow’s essence, Angie gazed over the area inside the lights, then moved outward toward the shadows. Spying a stray gleam as the light caught a thin edge of the copper brazier, she stooped and quickly snatched it up, righting it to see the still glowing ember in the depths.

“Aye, and I was right! She’s worked a spell and somethin’ waits for us still. But we must know what she worked.”

A voice from the darkness offered assistance even before the two figures stepped into the light from the floods.

“I think I may help here. The Watchers thought the small bowl of no consequence, however, we spoke with the young witch earlier. She told me of the need to talk to her departed lover. She’d sent the ashes of a letter to the other witch.”

“Yanni, love! Good to see ye. So ye’ll be helpin’ us with this then?”

Giles looked one to the other as the witch and vampire exchanged greetings. That is, until his eye fell on the man standing quietly beside Yanni and it was as if he’d looked into a mirror of his youth.

“Oh, my Lord! Y-you’re Yanose, I mean… Brendan! My ancestor.”

“Yes, I am. You see why we delayed the meeting, delayed you actually seeing me. We feared you might be shocked as the resemblance is striking, but we shall discuss that at length once this crisis is passed, Rupert. Yanni and I are old friends of Angie but now time is important in locating your missing Willow. Come.”

The two men stepped closer to the women as Yanni and Angie quickly devised a way to both help, as well as find, Willow.

Moving into a tight circle, each held an edge of the brazier.

“Spark o’ life, we cast ye to the heavens, a shining beacon to invoke and guide the spirit and love of the departed, Tara, to aid in the safety of she who wrote the words of love on this paper. Go to Willow, aid her in her darkness, that she may safely join us once more.

So mote it be!”

With the final word of the invocation, the tiny ember lifted from the brazier, floating away on the breeze, its fire never fading as it went.

“If we trace the spark, we’ll locate where Willow is being held. It will be guarded, so all must be silent. Then plans to rescue her may be laid.”

Yanni quietly told them all before turning to do as she had bid them, her eyes cast to the air, keeping the glowing dot in sight.

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

Through twists and turns of the night and the various alleyways, the silent foursome crept. Yanose lead beside Yanni, who watched the drifting firefly of light, looking for danger, obstacles and other pitfalls.

Giles did the same at the rear, assisting Angie who also watched the unusual messenger.

The tiny spark finally hovered beside an old ramshackle warehouse, then the faint suggestion of a hand plucked the fire from the air, extinguishing it, but leaving a strong sense of accomplishment and security.

“The girl has the guide. All shall be well. Wait but a moment while we check.”

With no additional explanation, Yanni and Yanose vanished into the shadows, only a thickening of the darkness. Yet before Giles had time to form one of the many questions that plagued him, they were back, motioning away from the building.

“This is the place. She is safe and Tara stays beside her to protect her, yet still we must make rescue plans quickly.”

***********

It took almost two days later before the various parts of the rescue mission were co-coordinated and ready.

Angie and Yanni handled the work of organizing the rescue efforts, once Giles convinced the Watcher’s Council that attempting to rush the warehouse would only result in Willow’s death.

After persuading the Watchers to allow ‘secondary forces’ to handle the situation, Giles remained in a more subdued state of panic; existing on strong tea, hot coffee, a ‘cat-nap’ when he could no longer stay awake and the devout hope that Tara’s spirit would never allow Willow to be hurt by Travers and his minions. Although what the departed witch could actually DO, he was unsure.

During the interminable waiting, he was convinced of two things. Willow had become more important to him than he’d thought possible and the realization that he’d lose something infinitely precious, should anything befall her.

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

Willow woke to the sight of darkness wrapped around her. Her hands and feet were tied, a dirty, foul-tasting gag cut cruelly across her mouth. A matching one seemed to be part of what blocked her vision.

Trying to summon up at least a light in the small room and failing, she realized Travers had effectively prevented her from saving herself. Without the ability to speak or see or use her hands, she could summon the energy for her magick, yet had no outlet with which to work.

The feeling of panic crept up her spine as she lay in the darkness, the floor hard, cold and gritty beneath her cheek. The panic increased its grip as a slight sound fell upon her ears and she strained harder to hear.

She hoped it wasn’t rats. Not that she minded them exactly, but she knew none of them would be anything like Amy-rat.

*Of course, * she told herself, *I’d rather it be rats than vampires…almost. *

A cool hand touched her face gently. She started, trying to pull away, but the voice was soft, young and surprisingly…reassuring. She assumed from the temperature of his hands, that he was one of the vampires she’d just been dreading.

“Calm. I’ve water and food for you. I’m a friend, but I cannot allow anyone to know except you. Help will come.”

The cool hands untied the gag, yet left the blindfold in place. A damp cup was placed against her lips and she drank the water it contained. It wasn’t fresh, but it was cold and wet.

“I…”

“No! Do not speak!”

Understanding that they feared a spell, Willow decided to try the one word approach.

“Bathroom.”

“Alright. I shall have to call others and you will have no privacy, you understand this?”

She simply nodded her head, her mind racing, struggling to find an idea, an out.

“No spells.”

There were soft shuffling sounds as someone else entered the room behind them.

“Yes”, the soft voice continued. “No spells shall be allowed. Do you wish something else? I shall strike you if you begin a spell.”

“Can you loosen or move the blindfold? It’s really tight and hurts my head. It’s on top of where they hit me. I promise to keep my eyes closed.”

“Yes, this I can do.”

Willow felt a second person move behind her to grasp her arms with even colder hands, as the nicer vampire loosened the blindfold and retied it slightly at an angle before gently touching the throbbing swelling on the side of her head for several moments.

“You have kept your word. I will guide you to the bathroom, but I must remain there.”

Willow simply nodded, her bladder screaming at her after all the tea she’d drunk earlier.

Led through a myriad of passages, some she suspected, traveling through more than once, she finally arrived at a bathroom. She could tell by the noxious odor.

Hands still tied, blindfold in place, with the nasty gag removed and circulation returning to her feet, she wasn’t sure how she was suppose to manage this.

“How?”

“I am sorry. I must assist you, but I will promise not to look, then I shall turn my back while you…”

“I understand. It’s okay.”

Willow steeled herself not to react in any way as the vampire gently raised her dress and fumbling slightly, slid her undergarments down before holding the skirt out of her way.

The material was awkwardly pulled, so she hoped he’d turned around as promised and gingerly sat on what she was sure was a disgusting toilet and attended to business.

As the sounds ceased, she hesitated once more, until the unseen vampire came to her assistance again.

“Raise slightly, I will have to do this for you. Will it help to know I was once a physician before I was changed? “

Her breath expelled in a sigh, “Yes, actually it does. Thank you.”

Once all was rearranged, she was led by a more direct route back to her ‘cell’. She was given more water and the man held a portion of stale bread and hard cheese for her to eat. She was still uncomfortable, but under the circumstances, the food was ambrosial.

Between bites once, she’d simply asked him, “Why?”

“Why are you here? Why am I helping?”

Seeing her answering nod, he very quietly told her both answers.

“He has taken you to lure both Slayers as well as the Watcher. He hates them all, but the older Slayer and her Watcher most of all. You embarrassed him too, so I am told, when he was in the States. He wishes to lure them here with you as the bait, taunting them with hope, but turning you once he feels them closing in. Then presented with your demonic visage, he will stake you himself before their eyes, ending all hope.

I am here at the request of a friend, as a friend, to try to prevent all but the first. I cannot stop what must be. But I must not be detected. Do you understand?”

Trembling, Willow nodded, then waited for whatever would happen next.

“I must re-gag you, so drink to rinse your mouth and moisten it. This cloth is much cleaner than the last.”

Willow did as she was bid, carefully consuming all of the cool, stale water.

Before he could do more than touch her lips with the obviously softer cloth, she murmured quickly, “Your name, please?”

“You know that names have power. I am Leon.” He had decided, nonetheless, to give her his name.

He tied the gag across her mouth rather than through it, tying it firmly but not so cruelly as before.

Finally falling into an uneasy sleep, Willow dreamed of Tara. At least she thought it was a dream until Tara began to speak to her in a most un-dream like way.

+ Will, I thought you were never going to go to sleep! I need to talk to you. This is important. +

Tara took great pains to explain to Willow what was happening, what she was there to do, and how she could help. Once past all the important initial conversation, Tara stunned the sleeping Willow with another revelation.

+I got your letter, earlier, Will. I miss you too, sweetie. I also understand what’s happening, about Giles, you know, and I couldn’t be happier for you. I think it’s a good idea. He’ll be very good to you, protect you and will love you. +

+Tara, are you sure? I mean, I know how I used to feel, years ago, but then there was you and… So how do I go back? +

+Honey, you don’t go back. You go forward. Like Faith told Buffy earlier tonight, this afterlife stuff is a lot more than she ever got to see. We get to know things. Not that we always get to tell them, but we get to know stuff. Things happened as they had to, Will. It was painful for everyone and I’m sorry anyone had to go through it, but the end will be worth it, you’ll see. Go back to sleep, love. I’ll be here. They won’t hurt you while I’m here and I’ll always be here. At least while you still need me. +

Tara stretched out a hand in the dream to smooth Willow’s hair, before laying a gentle kiss over the painful swelling on her head.

Willow slept.

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

“She is safe, Rupert. The planning goes on and is well. She will be out of there soon. Have you read the book?”

Confused by the sudden change of subject, Giles almost didn’t understand Yanni’s question as she and Yanose sat opposite he and Angie in his living room.

“Ah.. y-yes. I have. It – it was confusing. I mean, I understand why Travers would hide that information, but I don’t understand what it all means.”

Angie took no part in the discussion and simply listened, taking in the possible ‘between the lines’ information for later use.

“It is very simple once you understand that when I was human, my name was Alanna.”

Yanni explained, pausing as Giles grasped the connection of her human name.

“Ahhhh, I see now that you grasp more of my meanings.

It is an old story.

I was the servant girl at a great castle. I had been born there, my mother also a servant, so I was raised to that life. The lord of the manor was a man… a sorcerer you might say, who dealt too long in the dark magicks.

His name was Heinrich Nest.

As I grew and took on the form of a woman, he felt I was his property in truth and my time was spent avoiding him as much as possible.

Then I was called as a Slayer. This was not unheard of in my family and we knew the meaning of it.

I served well. My Watcher was a very good man.

The vampires were many and I was hard pressed to keep their numbers down. Finally I failed and was killed; yet through his sorceries, Heinrich brought me back with his magicks. Several times he did this. Each time, I was stronger, different. I started to change, much as I am sure our favorite Slayer has done.

After the fourth time, the local Master vampire decided to eliminate me by first stopping he who revived me. His method was simple and effective, for he turned Heinrich, thus the evil sorcerer became in truth the monster he had always been under the skin.

Heinrich again tried to make me his, for as cruel as he had been as a human, the evil in him was unmatched once the demon filled him. He killed and turned my Watcher, Pierre Dupree.

His first night risen, Pierre encountered the Kalderash. They had come to aid him at my mother’s request. She had befriended them in the past, so now the gypsies returned his soul.

My Watcher, from then on, was a vampire as well as my lover. We were later married very quietly and after a while, I became with child and the younger Dupree, of which you know, was born.

One night while out hunting, for that is what it was now, we encountered Heinrich. He’d become vastly powerful.

Jealous still of our love, Heinrich managed to have others overpower Pierre while he himself drained me, tossing me aside to laugh at Pierre before leaving us with our agonies.

But I was much harder to kill than he thought and clung to the last shreds of life. Pierre discovered this and to save me, turning me himself then carrying me to the Kalderash, who restored my soul before my first rising.

Pierre and I stayed with them, allowing my mother to raise my small son in an effort to protect him from our enemies.

But years later, as my son was becoming a man, Heinrich returned again, knew the young Dupree for mine and turned him. I was unable to save him or have a soul restored to him, yet he was still unusually kind in many things despite the demon within him.

Pierre was taken from me some time later. Killed before my eyes, as I watched. Killed protecting a new Slayer, and I, unable to go to he whom I had loved for so many years.

Many years later, our son met the lovely Yaszette, who you know as Brendan’s Slayer, and fell in love with her. They produced Elisabet, of whom you know from Brendan’s Watcher diary. You are aware now that Brendan changed his name to Yanose once he became a vampire.

I made some of these events known to Yaszette before she died, but not all. She gave Elisabet to us to raise and even though not Yanose’s own child, it help much for the loss of Yaszette, for him to raise her child.

No further Slayers were called from this line until the one destined to be the greatest Slayer thus far. Your Slayer, Rupert Giles, who is a direct descendant of Elisabet.

After some time, we no longer needed to protect this line so closely and they moved back into society, though we have always kept watch.”

“Thank you, Yanni. This explains a great deal. Buffy is actually not just the descendant of Elisabet, but of Yaszette and yourself, through your son, Dupree. But what of Julius and his book? He said Elisabet was descended from Slayers and vampires for the previous three generations. You’ve only explained two; Yaszette and Dupree, and yourself.”

Giles was puzzled about that small discrepancy even as he was profoundly astonished by the truth, which did seem stranger than fiction.

“It is of no concern. Julius did not know I was Alanna and he was very ill when he finally accepted that he was dying and set hand to page. It was the coughing sickness.”

“Excuse me for interruptin’ but who did the wee lassie Elisabet marry?”

Angie felt there was something not said here, something important.

“Does it matter, old friend?”

Yanose answered her, sounding strangely saddened.

“Aye, I’m thinkin’ it be important.”

“Very well. No, Yanni, it is well. It is time.” Yanose had stilled her hand, as she would touch his arm to stop him.

“My son married Elisabet. He was a youth before I knew of his existence. It had been that time of rebellion I know you understand, Rupert. When told I was to be a Watcher as the men of our family have been for many generations, I too rebelled. The girl was young, as they all are when we as young men, fall in love for the first time. We lay together once before my father returned me to school. I did love her. Until Yaszette, she was the only woman I ever loved. Then.

Yanni helped me find young Stewart, as his mother had called him. Over time, he grew close to me, for all that I am what I am, and we changed his name to the family one before I too told him he was to be a Watcher. He thought he should make a difference in the Council, but it was in other places where his difference is felt.

Through the blood of Yanni and myself, we brought forth the Slayer who has been the world’s greatest hope thus far.

Now we must hope for a miracle to pass along our bloodlines we have so carefully nurtured. The Kalderash Elders have seen for generations in the stars the importance of this bloodline and have done much to continue it as well as nourish it in the direction it has gone. But there is more to be accomplished and no further offspring from either side now. This is why the continuance of the line now lies in your hands. Yours and Buffy’s.”

“I… see. So your Elders feel that Buffy must also have a child? She is with Spike, as I’m sure you know. Do you think that Spike will be able to father a child with her?”

“That we hope for. A Slayer seems more able to reproduce once they have been revived. A vampire more able to produce with a soul, but it is not a necessity, as you have read in the past. This seems to be connected in some way to their demonic origins. You are aware now that this connection has been kept strong in the current Slayer’s line.”

“And what of me? You say the bloodline rests in my hands as well. What exactly do you have planned for me along that line, or do I not have any say in the matter?”

Giles’ voice was tight. He didn’t wish to offend his benefactors, yet he’d made up his heart over the last few hours and knew who he wanted in his life.

Both vampires smiled at him as did Angie, who was the one to answer the question.

“I’m thinkin’ yer well on yer way to solvin’ that small problem, once we save the wee witch from durance vile.”

Giles visibly relaxed for a moment until the realities of the rescue returned in a breath-stealing rush.

“Yes, you’re quite right. Provided we can save her and then provided she’ll have me. Her last relationship….”

“ T’was different. But she told me of the one before that as well. He, nae ‘she’, sounded like a charmin’ werewolf of a lad. Dinnae be makin’ that of which it is’t, Rupert. Tis right and proper. She’ll likely get the blessin’s of her lost one.”

“B-but Tara.. Tara is dead.”

Giles protested almost entirely on form alone.

“Och! And ye be knowing death is only another doorway, Rupert. Only a doorway. Doors swing both ways.”

It was the end of the subject per Angie!

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

Angel walked back through the front doorway of the Hyperion; both anxious and nervous about seeing Cordelia, knowing as he did that the barrier of his once precarious soul was no longer between them.

He heard voices from the back of the hotel, toward the downstairs training room.

He wanted a bath, something to eat, to hug Cordelia, share with her what he’d discovered and then see where that revelation led them… not necessarily in that order.

What he found, however as he reached the bottom of the stairs was Cordelia stretched out on a floor mat on her back, Lindsey laying on top of her as he looked down into her face, the weight of his upper body supported only by his elbows braced on the floor. They were laughing.

Angel’s vision misted over with a red haze as he lunged for the ex-lawyer, soon to be ex-living….

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

Dawn wished Wesley a good night as she hurried to her room. She was tired and worried about Willow but had confidence in Tara. The young Slayer knew if she went to sleep, she couldn’t worry quite so much about a situation in which she was completely helpless, so sleep it was…

Wesley turned toward his room, hearing the quiet murmur of voices in Buffy’s room and knew she and Spike would probably talk the problem to death, still unable to help.

With a sigh, he readied for bed, sliding under the covers to stare at the patterns of reflected light through his window.

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

“…I know there is nothing more we can do, Spike, but she’s my best friend and I’m scared for her. You don’t know Quentin. You only got to meet that gaggle-toothed female Watcher that practically drooled all over you.”

“She was not and did not! Jealous, Slayer?”

The blonde vampire/daywalker leered in what he hoped was an enticing manner at his worried lover.

Buffy took the bait, knowing full well what he was doing, and wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him.

“Absolutely. I’m jealous of every woman who has ever had your heart, Spike”

“Like you haven’t known all of them, Slayer.”

He pulled her closer, nuzzling the side of her neck, breathing over the throbbing pulse just beneath the skin, “But my heart only beats for you, Buffy.”

Words quickly because a thing of the past for the next several hours as Spike gave every ounce of himself to distract Buffy.

His plan was even more successful than he’d hoped.

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

Willow tried to huddle closer into the ragged blanket that was her only buffer from the cold of the stone floor beneath her. The grit had scored her cheeks, hands, knees, in fact almost every inch of exposed skin that bore any of her weight, as she lay trussed in the isolated room.

Leon visited her several times a day and did all that he could, yet never once had he removed her blindfold and often she heard a shuffling in the room that was not him, so she could only assume he was often watched as he attended her.

Her head still ached with a ferocity that made her nauseous at times, yet it did seem to ease slightly after Leon or Tara touched it. Leon made a point to very gently hold his hand on the swelling each time he came to her. Tara would lay a soft ephemeral kiss on the swollen, throbbing lump each time Willow managed to sleep.

During the nightmarish times she woke, Willow often heard Quentin Travers. At times his voice boomed like waves pounding on the rocks, while at other times, it was the quiet whisper of the tide draining from the sand.

On two occasions he came to her chamber, telling her of his plans for her, her friends, and anyone else he even thought might be connected to Buffy.

The images his words conjured were horrible and left her sobbing, causing her head to pound all the more.

She knew Giles and others were planning her escape. Tara told her every time she came and Leon often reassured her when he was alone with her in the foul bathroom.

Willow simply wished they would hurry, not knowing how much more of this she could actually endure.

In the hours before dawn, a bit more than two days since the vampires had kidnapped her, Leon came as usual to offer her food and water and escort her to the bathroom yet again.

“Listen carefully, I must be quick! The rescue will take place any minute now. Quentin set a meeting with them for today at sunset, planning it to be your death. I shall try every way possible to stay with you until I hear the beginning. Then I’ll release your hands and the blindfold. If I can, I’ll try to help you out to them, but if I cannot….”

He gave her quick, yet detailed directions to the nearest exit or hiding place before they headed back to her prison. Leon knew that if she couldn’t escape, she could hide long enough for her rescuers to find her before Quentin did.

If Travers was planning her death so soon, they dared not seem to take overly long in the ‘necessary’, for fear of rousing suspicions.

The warning came just as Leon led her back into her cell. She felt him move behind her and then the press of cold metal against her wrist as he tried to cut the bindings without nicking her, leaving a blood scent for the others.

Her arms unbound finally, Willow found she could move them only with excruciating agony that shot from her fingertips to her shoulders. Despair filled her as she realized she’d not be able to use her arms to help herself at all.

On the heels of that despair came the light of the small dank room as her blindfold was removed. After days of utter darkness, what small light filtered into the space, was almost blinding, yet it gave her a first glimpse of Leon.

He was barely taller than her, slender, with a thick fall of shoulder length hair the colour of ripened wheat. His face was just saved from being thin, the curve of lip and cheek, soft. Had he been a woman, he’d have been startling pretty, yet as a man, he was completely masculine, still managing to retain that same beauty.

A hand at her back, Leon tried to guide her as rapidly as possible while still having a care for her arms.

She recognized the turns from his description and knew they had made their way to an exit, just as Quentin Travers appeared between them and freedom.

“So, what have we here? I’d have thought you’d learned by now how I handle traitors, Leon. It’s most ungentlemanly of you to try and remove my playing piece before I’ve finished the game. We’ll just have to do that here then, but don’t worry. You’ll die almost as soon as she does.”

Travers allowed his demonic face to the fore, preparing to reach for the frightened redhead. Before he could do more than lift his arm toward her, a brilliant light stood between the twisted vampire and Willow and Leon.

Tara raised both arms above her as she spat out a word, lightening crackling between her fingers.

“You will not touch her!”

Willow understood that most of Tara’s energy was going to maintain a semblance of physical form and the energy of her threat. Tara’s voice was the sepulcher echo of the grave that raised the hair on Willow’s neck and sent a chill down her spine.

“You have a good show, bitch, but you’re still a ghost and can’t touch me.”

Quentin took a step toward Willow only to put himself in contact with Tara.

Energy crackled and snapped, light strobed across the room. Quentin Travers groaned and slid to the grime of the floor, unconscious as Tara’s form wavered and disappeared.

“Tara!”

“There is not time! We must hurry before he wakes! She used her energy to render him unconscious and could no longer retain physical form. She is unharmed. She is spirit!”

Leon rushed Willow to the closest exit, both of them yelling at the top of their lungs.

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

“I think we’re ready on this end, Angie.”

Giles stood in the darkness of the alleyway, impatient to finally take action and rescue Willow.

“Good. Tha’ Coven will be lendin’ a hand with tha’ younger Watchers. Ye know tha’ older ones are just daft at tha’ thought o’facin’ a vampire. Yer’self excluded, o’course.

Ta’ ask’em to actually work with vampires… Och! Well, Yanni’s group would be in e’vn more danger from tha’ folks what are supposed to be helpin’em!”

Angie had arranged to have most of her Coven members as well as many of the solitary Wiccans assist in the rescue, offering whatever service at which they were best.

Some would lend magickal aid, some healing, while others fought. A contingency of younger Watchers had agreed to come to the aid of their newly acting Head Watcher. Giles had emphatically stressed that the third group would consist of vampires, all of whom had souls, and that none of the Watchers would be allowed to kill any of their allies. There were a few grumbles, but eventually the Watchers agreed to a truce.

So with as many of the obstacles as possible cleared from their path, the three unlikely groups gathered to wait for the signal to attack.

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

Only moments after the contingency attacked the decrepit warehouse, Giles, Yanni, Yanose and Angie set out in search of the room where Willow was being held.

All around them, the Kalderash fought side by side with the Watchers and Angie’s coven members. Some fell from each side, but the vast majority was the dusty falling of Quentin’s minions.

Giles didn’t see Quentin among the mêlée and knew the ex-Watcher would try for Willow, even to spite them at the last moment. Giles could only hope they found her first, even as he prayed that Yanni’s ‘plant’ kept the young witch safe.

The small troupe had just left the main room, the fighting behind them, when they heard yelling outside the building.

Knowing time of was of the essence, Yanni and Yanose turned and leapt in one of those breath-taking jumps that only the truly old, truly Master vampires can manage, finding a toe-hold on the upper catwalk moments before they jumped through the windows that encircled the roof of the building, landing outside.

Not to be outdone in this emergency, Angie grabbed Giles hand as she muttered a word, transporting them twistingly, dizzily, to the walkway outside.

Giles swayed, struggling to regain his balance while Angie had no such trouble and broke into a ground-eating run. Moments later, Giles lurched after her.

Cowering in the dubious shelter of a sagging dock door, Leon held an unconscious Willow in his arms while Yanni pulled three tightly folded, thin mylar blankets from the pouch at her waist, throwing one over Leon before handing a second to Yanose, then covering herself as well, for protection from the dim pink light of the rising sun.

“Is she alright?”

Giles was frightened, seeing Willow so limp and not knowing if she had simply passed out or something much worse.

“She passed out. She must go to a hospital. Travers is down the hall about 15 feet. He may still be unconscious. Hurry!”

Giles barreled back through the door, stake ready, Angie right behind him.

Right where Leon had indicated, a very groggy Quentin Travers attempted to struggle to an upright position.

“It’s over, Quentin. It’s all over, finally.”

Travers had only a moment to look surprised as Giles shoved the sharpened stake through the ex-Watcher’s heart, seeing him crumble to dust.

Wiping the dust from his hands, Giles turned back to Angie, “Do you still have that cellular telephone? I believe we could use an ambulance.”

Leading the way back to the fallen witch, Angie telephoned for an ambulance, then handed the phone to Giles as she lent a hand to what Leon and Yanni were attempting to do.

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

“Angel, NO!”

In a matter of seconds, Cordelia saw Angel, took in the ferocity of expression, saw his muscles tense as he started his lunge for Lindsey. She shoved the ex-lawyer on the floor, her body between him and Angel.

“Angel, it’s not what you think, not what it looks like! NO!”

She grabbed his sleeve as his arm streaked past her, allowing Lindsey a few seconds to roll into an upright position.

His gaze never leaving the quarry, the demonic-visaged man growled as his arm jerked, throwing Cordelia toward the wall, while he continued his grab for Lindsey.

Cordelia quickly pulled herself up, lunging across the room to land on Angel’s back where he stood holding Lindsey against the wall by the throat.

“Angel, dammit! I SAID listen to me!”

Taking a page from Spike’s book, the brunette bit the vampire’s ear…hard.

“Ooowww!”

Angel put one hand to his now bleeding ear, relaxing his hold slightly on Lindsey’s neck, allowing the man to pull a ragged breath through his abused throat.

Cordelia slid off the vampire’s back, stepping around him so she could see his face.

He looked from Lindsey, pinned against the wall, to Cordelia, anger written across her features as he allowed his own features to drop back into his normal human countenance.

“If you’re ready to listen to reason, then turn Lindsey loose and stop acting like a testosterone maddened bull.”

She stood, hands on her hips until Angel had done as she’s ordered.

“Good. Now stop being so stupid!”

Balling her hand into a tight fist, Cordelia hit the vampire solidly in the chest. It hurt, but she wasn’t about to let him know that and she had the satisfaction of hearing the ‘oomph’ escape his lips as her fist landed.

“We’d been working out….”

“Yeah, I could tell THAT part..”

“Angel, shut up! We’d been working out and finally took a break. I lay down on the floor mat like you’ve seen me do a hundred times, while Lindsey and I talked. He said that because I was a woman, I wouldn’t have the strength to move him if he was an attacker and managed to pin me full length to the ground. I said let’s try, he objected. I won the argument, but then he proved his point, cause I couldn’t budge him no matter how much I struggled. So I called a halt and he raised up, gloating at me about being right and we both laughed. Then you come in doing your macho-routine and… where do you get off trying to throw me across the room, Mister?”

Anger was apparent in every word, every line of her body as she stood glaring at the taller brunette.

“Oh! Ah…I’m sorry? I made a mistake?”

Angel released Lindsey, trying to straighten the other man’s shirt collar, before Lindsey moved away, rubbing his throat.

Cordelia straight-armed Angel, pushing him away from Lindsey, further back into the room.

“I’ll say you did! First you go off to Sunnydale, boink Buffy, risking your soul again, then come back, refusing to tell me anything that happened until I figure it out. I get upset and you tell me how much you care about ME, only to turn around and run off into the night again for several more days, then have the nerve to barge back in and attack Lindsey like…like you think you own ME! Well, you just better think again!”

She turned, stomping from the room, heading for the stairs.

“Cordy… Cordy, stop! I’m sorry, Cordelia.”

Angel took a step toward her, then stopped as she halted at the foot of the stairs, her back still toward him, hand on the stair rail.

“I am. I’m sorry. About what happened in Sunnydale, about not talking to you, attacking Lindsey…” Angel glanced at the shorter man before looking again at Cordy’s back.

“I acted like an idiot and no, I don’t think I own you. I DO care about you and that’s why I had to leave for a day or so. I was getting some information about that problem we know I have.”

“Did they fix it or tell you a way to fix it?”

“Can we discuss it in a little bit? I’ll show both of you the trick you were trying to work out… I mean, since everybody’s already, ah, dressed for it and, ah… kinda mussed up?”

Turning away from the stairs, Cordelia stepped back toward the two men.

“Alright. Show me. I think I have enough ‘mad’ going to throw you off.”

“Okay. Lay back down like you were, Cordy.”

As she did so, Angel looked at Lindsey.

“Lin, I’m sorry, man. I- I’ll try not to ever let it happen again.

Now, first, if you’re trying to pin someone so they can’t get up, you need to do it a bit differently. Bend your knees slightly so you can hook your feet over their legs, your toes kinda between their legs. It makes it a lot harder for them to do what I’m gonna show her.”

Angel had knelt down over Cordelia, moving into a modified position from the one he’d first seen Lindsey in, thankful that vampires didn’t blush and keeping an almost teeth-grinding grip on his own body. After he explained the modified position, Angel shifted to mirror the original one he’d discovered them in, continuing his instruction.

“Now, like Lindsey, most men make this same mistake. So hook your heel over my leg, Cordelia. Good, wrap your arm around my neck, pulling me closer. Then use your other leg for leverage, pushing off with the heel of that foot, trying to roll me over, instead of throwing me off.”

Cordelia did as instructed and found that although an effort, she could roll the much heavier vampire over, leaving her sitting astride him as he lay on the floor.

“Okay, I see how that works. It’s kinda hard to do, but yeah…”

Angel knew that now was the moment to tell her. Looking up into her face, he slid his hands up her arms, feeling his own body react to the close proximity of her.

“Cordelia, that problem with my soul is gone.”

“Gone?”

Stunned, she relaxed where she sat, on top of Angel, instantly aware of his reaction to her.

“Gone. Completely gone.”

The slender brunette had been resting her hands on her own thighs, but a certain darkness filled her eyes and she slid her hands slowly up Angel’s sides toward his chest, while leaning just as slowly down toward him.

With never a glance behind her, she said only three words before covering Angel’s lips with her own.

“Lindsey, OUT! Now!”

The ex-lawyer beat a hasty retreat up the stairs closing the door firmly behind him when he reached the top, before heading to his own room for a very cold shower.

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

Buffy woke slowly, feeling the weight of Spike’s body curled along her back, his arm wrapped around her waist, the tickle of his breath along the back of her neck.

It was comforting and so incredible to even think about, Spike actually breathing; his heart beating against her back.

Buffy snuggled slightly against him even more, feeling content for a few moments until the reality of Willow’s danger thrust itself into the forefront of her mind again.

Knowing she could only wait for Giles to call her back, even with the assurances Faith gave them several times a day, Buffy lay against Spike’s nude body and worried.

Within minutes of waking, the petite blonde felt the growing rise of something uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach.

The sensation grew until she could no longer remain still and she slid away from the warmth of her lover, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for a robe.

It hit full force with no further warning.

Buffy bolted from the bed to the bathroom, flinging herself to her knees on the floor in front of the toilet barely in time as she retched, one hand holding her hair back while the other tried to cling to the wall.

“Buffy, what’s wrong? Are you ok, love?”

Spike woke when she jumped from the bed, following her to the bathroom when he heard the sound of her being ill.

“Yeah… Fine… Dandy… as in, NOT!”

Buffy’s words came between spasms of nausea and throwing up.

“I’ll go get some help, Buffy. I’ll be right back.”

“Spike… Naked!”

“Oh, yeah.”

The blonde daywalker grabbed Buffy’s robe, wrapping it securely around her naked form, then slipped into his jeans and headed downstairs.

He smelled the coffee and knew someone was already up for the day.

Wesley, Dawn and Faith sat in the kitchen around the table, two of them held cups, the steam gently rising from the contents. Faith looked wistful at Dawn’s cup, which was the closer of the two.

“ ‘Bit, Wes… Buffy’s sick. Something’s really wrong. She’s throwing up.”

The problem relayed, Spike headed up the stairs almost at a run, hearing the chairs scrap against the flooring as Dawn and Wesley, probably along with Faith, followed him.

***********

Buffy sat on the floor, her robe now on and belted, her head resting against the cool porcelain of the edge of the bowl. Her normally golden tan complexion looked pale, even against the startling white of the ceramic.

Entering the bathroom, everyone tried to talk at once, all with queries as to how Buffy was feeling, what was wrong…

Overwhelmed with the sound, her head splitting and her stomach decidedly not her friend, Buffy weakly help up a hand for silence.

“No, I have no idea what’s wrong other than I’ve been trying to throw up my insides. Maybe it’s just that I’m so worried about Willow.”

“Buffy, when we were attacked the other night at the cemetery, weren’t you feeling a bit off?”

Wesley was concerned and suspicious as to the cause of Buffy’s sudden illness.

“Yeah, but it went away. I was ok, just not enough sleep. This is just from worry. If I can get a cup of tea, I’ll be fine. You guys just let me get dressed. Spike’ll help me.”

Alright. I’ll make you some tea. Do you want sugar in it?”

The thought of sugar in her tea made Buffy’s stomach do a threatening flip, “No. no sugar, Wes. I think I’ll have it straight this morning.”

After everyone exited the room, Spike helped Buffy up from the floor, coaxed her to wash her face, helped her dress and in general suggested she try to relax and take things easy for a while.

She was more than happy to oblige.

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

“Dawn, while I make Buffy some toast to go along with her tea, please run pick up an item for me. Do NOT stray! Go there and right back. Faith, please accompany her.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

The ghost leaned close enough to the Watcher to almost slide inside him, “You think B’s preggers, don’t’cha?”

Without waiting for an answer, Faith popped outside to wait for Dawn.

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

Rupert Giles sat slumped in bedside chair of the hospital room.

Willow lay flat in the hospital issue bed, two bottles hanging from the shining metal IV pole. Each bottle had its own bit of plastic tubing that ran first into a ‘Y’ connector, then into a single plastic IV line and finally into the colorful hub of the plastic catheter that had been inserted into a vein in the back of the young witch’s hand.

She lay motionless, after having roused long enough to see Giles and Angie beside her bed, and lapsing into unconsciousness again.

Angie had finally gone home, but Giles couldn’t leave, couldn’t leave her there alone.

Stark white bandages swathed her head, making it appear larger than he knew it was. Red, black and white wires trailed out of the top of her gown, plugged into a machine on a side table. The steady green jagged line and constant, soft blip of the heart monitor reassured Giles as he waited.

The doctors said she had a concussion and questioned them about a half-healed fracture of her skull directly under the swollen discolored lump on the side of her head.

Angie and Giles had both denied knowing anything about it other than that she’d been attacked and hit in the head during the scuffle. The Watcher knew he was telling the truth, but Angie… His old friend wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

In addition to the head trauma, Willow had one shoulder that had been dislocated and the other severely strained, according to the doctors. They assured him there was no permanent damage and that she should heal fine.

They were giving her one fluid for mild dehydration and the other was full of an exotic cocktail of antibiotics, vitamins and an anti-inflammatory to reduce the swelling of her wounds.

Arriving at the hospital, they’d been swarmed by a small horde of uniformed people who’d whisked the redhead away, checking, prodding, filming, connecting and hooking her to various things, such as the monitor and IV.

Once the doctor had spoken with them, they’d finally been allowed into Willow’s room.

Giles checked on Willow to reassure himself, then asked Angie to stay with her while he called Buffy.

He told the young blonde everything the doctors had told him, including the events of Willow’s rescue. Buffy had thanked him before suddenly handing the telephone to Spike.

“Where did Buffy go? Is she alright?”

“She’s been a bit under the weather all day. Said she was just worried about ‘Red. Don’t know though…”

“She IS alright, isn’t she Spike?”

Giles didn’t know how he could handle both women being ill or injured on opposite sides of the Atlantic at the same time.

“Yeah. I think she is, ‘cept for a bit of tossin’ her cookies. Wes sent Dawn and Faith to the pharmacy for something for her. They ought to be back in a bit. Pro'lly is just upset about her friend there. Want me to have her call you back later?”

“I-I’ll call her, Spike. I want to wait until Willow wakes up so I can give Buffy a progress report.”

“Good idea. She’ll start feeling better now that she knows Willow is okay.”

Giles had spoken with Wesley for a minute or so, the younger Watcher assuring him that he felt there was nothing seriously wrong with Buffy, before they rang off.

Giles returned to Willow’s room, where he’d taken up residence in the chair he still occupied.

Finally Willow stirred slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips as her unfettered hand slowly groped across the covers toward him.

Sliding his chair closer, Giles caught the small, slender hand between his own, raising it gently to his lips to press a soft kiss on her fingertips.

“Willow…I’m here, dear. The doctors said you’re going to be fine. Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

There was no reply from the young woman in the bed.

Giles pressed his cheek to the back of her hand, almost wanting to sob, knowing he dare not.

“Willow, you have to get better. You have to be alright. I-I find that I need you. Rather a good deal more than I thought possible.”

Her hand twitched slightly where it lay in his, pressed against his face.

He had to lean closer, hating to ask her to repeat what she had tried to say, pulling her hand away from his face as thought he’d been caught doing something he should feel guilty for.

“I couldn’t hear you, Willow. I’m sorry. Can you try again to tell me what you need?”

Her voice was raspy, a bare whisper, “N-not me. You. Need a shave.”

Unsure whether to laugh or cry, Giles found he had to swallow in order to speak past a lump in his throat.

“Yes. Yes, I do. I’ve neglected that while you were gone, I fear. I-we, were worried about you. Shaving didn’t seem too important just then. Are you alright?”

“Ummm. Head hurts. Tha’ bad guys gotta stop hittin’ me inna head. Gonna make me crazy that way.”

Chuckling in spite of himself, Giles tried surreptitiously to wipe the trace of moisture from his eye before it spilled over.

“Yes, we can’t allow any more ‘bad guys’ to hit you in the head, or anywhere else for that matter. But no, you’re not going to go crazy.”

“Good. Head hurts too bad to be crazy. Leon ok? W-what happened?”

“Leon is fine. It seems he was a plant by Yanni to help protect you. You should have told me you met Yanni and Yanose.”

“Sure. First time I see you, Giles. Leon…took care of me. Him and Tara.”

“Buffy told me that they had gone to talk to Tara, asked her to find you and help you. Faith suggested it to them. I-I’m glad she was with you…to help you, give you comfort.

Travers is gone, Willow. I staked him myself. He’ll never threaten you again, nor anyone else for that matter. Now you need to rest. That’s a nasty bump on your head, the doctor said. I’ll just step out to get a bite to eat while you sleep, now that I know you’re better.”

“D-don’t go! Stay with me, Giles. Better if I know you’re here.”

“Alright. I’ll stay here, Willow. Angie will be back soon and I can get her to find a sandwich and…” He noticed Willow had fallen asleep again, her breathing slow and regular, the steady blip of the heart monitor keeping them both company.

“…coffee for me. I’ll be right here, Willow, for as long as you will let me.”

Leaning back in his chair, Giles continued to hold her hand, as he closed his eyes, attempting to relax somewhat. So, he completely missed the small up curving of one corner of her mouth as she smiled slightly before real sleep claimed her.

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

“Buffy, I think you need to, ah, make use of this. If it’s as I suspect… Well, we need to know as soon as possible, I should think.”

Wesley felt awkward as he handed her the small package containing the pregnancy test he’d had Dawn pick up the previous morning.

Glancing inside the bag, Buffy read the label on the box, then looked back at Wesley, her eyes filled with surprise.

“You’ve got to be kidding, Wes. I mean…Willow said that I wasn’t. It can’t be that.”

“Yes, Willow said that you weren’t. Then. However, since that time, Spike has come home and… Well, shall we just say that the two of you are rather vocal at times?”

The faint pink colour crept out from the neck of her shirt, climbing her face to the roots of her hair.

“Oh… I… I’m not sure what to say other than sorry? I didn’t know we were that loud. I, uh, I’ll go check things out now.”

Almost running up the stairs, Buffy closed the door of her room behind her with an audible thump.

She stood there, just inside the doorway, staring at the small bag with unseeing eyes, afraid to find out the truth, afraid not to know.

She withdrew the box, tossing the bag in the trashcan beside the bed and headed into the bathroom.

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

A pale, shaken Buffy walked into the kitchen where Spike sat quietly with Wesley.

“Spike, can I speak to you for a minute?”

The blonde daywalker glanced at the brunette Watcher before rising to follow Buffy from the kitchen.

As soon as they were alone in the living room, Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm, unsure whether to panic or not.

“Spike… the line turned colours!”

“Buffy, love, I have no idea what that means. Wanna un-vague that for me, please?”

Wesley had quietly followed Spike from the kitchen and now stood to one side of the couple.

“It means, Spike, that the two of you are pregnant.”

“Pregnant? You mean as in Buffy’s gonna have a baby?”

“That’s pretty much the only ‘pregnant’ I’m aware of in that particular context, so yes.”

“Is…”

“Spike, Willow scanned her quite well. This has occurred since you arrived back home.”

“W-would you hate me… if…”

Buffy was near tears.

Pulling her into his arms, Spike gently kissed her before looking down into her tear-blurred eyes.

“Buffy, I thought you understood by now that I love you. I’m glad Wesley thinks it’s mine, but no matter who… I’d still love you. We’re pregnant, Buffy!”

Spike picked her up, spinning around in his exuberance as the news finally registered completely.

“We’re gonna have a baby, Buffy!”

“Spike…stop! If you don’t put me down, you’re gonna have me throw up on you.”

Buffy did sound somewhat strangled and had developed a pale greenish tinge to her complexion.

Spike lowered her until her feet touched the floor again; then stepped back as she clapped one hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom.

“Well, this certainly should be interesting to see how she slays while throwing up at the same time.”

Wesley leaned a shoulder against the wall, an amused chuckle in his eye.

Spike shot a look at the Watcher that should peel paint from the wall before taking the stairs two at a time to check on Buffy.

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

Cordelia swept her sweaty hair from her face with one hand before reaching to cup Angel’s cheek in the same hand.

“Angel… That was… You’re… Oh, hell… I love you, Angel.”

He pressing his face into her hand, he pulled the fallen sheet over her nude back.

“Tell me again, Cordy. Without the swearing, love.”

Cordelia pushed upward onto one elbow so she could look down into his face.

“I love you, Angel. I love you.”

Pulling her so that she spilled across his bare chest, the dark-haired vampire wrapped both arms around her, holding her close.

“I love you too, Cordelia. Being with you… you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Then why don’t you tell me? Lots of detail is good.”

Rolling over so that he covered her, Angel had other ideas.

“How about I show you first, then tell you?”

His mouth found the soft skin of her neck, just over the normally soft pulse that now beat like some wild, captive thing, as he stroked the throbbing warmth of it with the tip of his tongue.

She clutched at him, holding him to her, “Yes! Oh, yes!”

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

Finally back home, or rather, back at Giles’ flat that seemed like home now, Willow woke and was seized momentarily by panic until the glow from the small nightlight reassured her.

Lying still, she reflected on the conversation she’d just had with Tara.

+Willow, he loves you. It’s ok to go to him, Honey. I love you, you know that. I want you to be happy. I’ll never be far away, but I can’t be the one now. He can. And you care about him too. +

+Are you sure, Tara? I explained what they said I needed to do… You’re okay with that? I told you how I feel about him, but I love you too. I miss you. +

+I know, I miss you too. I know it feels awkward now, but it won’t be forever. It’ll just be different. Remember, you always did have a crush on him… And yes, I’m sure. I can’t push you there, Will. I mean it when I say I want you happy. Now go, love. +

Willow could almost feel Tara’s hands on her back, pushing her the way the lost witch denied was possible. A smile curving her mouth, Willow got out of bed, heading first to the bathroom.

Afterwards, instead of returning to her own room, she entered Giles’ room, stopping for a moment just to watch him sleep.

A tiny reserve of nervousness lingered, even through she was comfortable with what she was about to do.

Willow slid into the bed, under the covers and wiggled closer to the sleeping warmth of him. She’d had to tug the pillow from his arms, but understood why he’d held it close as he slept. For exactly the same reasons she did.

Winding her arm around him, Willow snuggled closer, laying a soft kiss on his lips.

Even in sleep, he responded, returning her kiss, his arm going around her.

The kiss lasted only a moment before Willow pulled back. This had to be his decision too, but she was going to do everything possible to help him make the right one.

“Willow, what are you doing here?”

“Giles, haven’t we already had this discussion before?”

“That was ages ago, or it seems as though it were. I meant now. You kissed me.”

“Nice of you to notice. I’m here because I want to be here, Giles. Unless, of course, you tell me you don’t want me here.”

He pulled back slightly, straining to see her in the near darkness.

Since her ordeal, they’d made a point to have a small night light in each room. The darkness still caused her momentary panic; even after the work he and Angie had done with her to cure the reaction.

“Do you understand what you’re asking me?”

The slender redhead raised her hand to stroke his cheek before she answered.

“Yes. I know exactly what I’m asking. You keep answering my questions with questions, Rupert. I know where I am and I want to be here. If you don’t want me here, then you have to say so.”

Giles trailed the tip of one finger across the edge of her lips, along her jaw line and down her neck, sending shivers down her spine that pulled a fine hot line to much lower parts of her body. Her skin felt swollen, hot, from the touch of his hand.

“I thought I’d lost you. I don’t ever want to feel that way again. That’s when I finally understood how much you mean to me, Willow. This… whatever this is we’re doing… This isn’t something we should take lightly. Once we start, we can’t go back.”

“No, Rupert, we can’t. But as Tara keeps telling me, we can go forward. It’s what I want to do… go forward. But I want to do that with you. I can’t promise you that you’ll never feel that way again, but if you do, it won’t be because of anything I would do deliberately. None of us know the future. I know the present though and I know I want this.”

Willow slid her hand along the back of his neck, feeling the prickle of the small hairs there, grown out since his last haircut. She pulled him to her while raising her face to cover his lips with hers.

The dam he’d created inside himself gave way, flooding him with pent-up emotions.

With a groan that Willow echoed back, he returned the kiss, nibbling at her mouth, drinking of her like a fine wine.

Hands fumbled at buttons, finally pulling the last recalcitrant one until it gave way; then slid across skin, caressing the sensitive spots they found.

Each of them seeking, seeking…

Her hand held the smooth, velvet hardness of him, urging him gently but relentlessly to where she wanted him.

She felt the tip of him graze the dampness from where she was melting inside. Felt him gently work his way into that hot wetness, her body expanding to take him in, take him deeper…

He filled her and she clung to him, wanting him closer still, to share his skin, to slip inside of him as he had done to her… Wanting to be a part of him.

He moved inside of her. She felt her skin grow larger, twitching across every nerve ending, threatening to pull her apart. He filled her up like a cup, until that rising warmth spread across her, through her, and overflowed in a spine-bowing rush, pulling a cry from both of them as they found what they had sought.

“Oh, God. Giles.. Rupert… Oh, Goddess!”

His wordless cry echoed hers.

They lay entangled, breath coming in gasps, hearts pounding against each other for long moments.

He held her to him, rolling carefully on his side, bringing her with him, remaining sheathed in warmth.

“Willow… Willow, I love you. I thought I’d lost you. I love you.”

“I love you, Rupert. I’m not lost, I’m here.”

“Marry me, please. Let me take care of you, love you.”

“I love you. Yes, I will.”

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

EPILOGUE

Giles and Willow flew back to Sunnydale for Spike and Buffy’s wedding.

It was a small, quiet affair held in the woods surrounding the lake, where there was a small pavilion to shelter Angel from the sunlight.

Although wary of asking him, Buffy had known it was something she had to do, something she owed Angel for all they had meant to each other.

Cordelia and Lindsey had come up from L.A. with Angel, for the occasion. When Buffy had opened the door the previous evening, Angel’s fingers were securely intertwined with Cordelia’s and for the first time in a long while, the dark-haired vampire wasn’t brooding.

Wesley had made a quiet visit to see Willie shortly while before the wedding. The small package of papers that came later, had been a wedding present from the younger Watcher and surprisingly enough, the little weasel-faced informant. It was identification for Spike.

Angie decided at the last minute to fly over with Giles and Willow, after hearing them speculate on how immune the blonde daywalker might be now to holy objects.

So, in her capacity as a Wiccan Priestess, Angie performed the marriage ceremony for Buffy and Spike.

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

“Buffy, you look positively radiant! The dress is gorgeous!”

“Thanks, Will. Anya and Dawn helped me find it.”

Buffy stood talking with her best friend while the redhead helped put her hair up.

The dress was the soft ivory of old silk. The neck was cut wide, barely clinging to the edge of Buffy’s shoulders. The waist was raised slightly but not a true empire line and the long lines of the silk creation clung to her curves, but not tightly. Buffy had not reached the stage that her pregnancy showed yet, but she was conscious of the fact that she was, and had wanted to avoid a tight dress.

Spike had managed to locate an old-fashioned, almost Victorian jacket, with Wesley’s help. The slender blonde had paired the jacket with equally slender slacks, a shade darker than the jacket and a silk shirt the dark blue of deep, still water that made the blue of his eyes more intense, a startling colour in the slight tan of his face.

He’d probably never really tan well, but the daywalker took every opportunity to turn his face to the sunlight.

It was finally time.

Willow and Giles stood with the pair as Angie’s richly accented voice spoke the words that united Spike and Buffy even closer, before finally signing the papers that made it legal.

A bit of questioning had helped Wesley determine the area of England in which Spike had lived so many years before, then the Watcher had used it for his last name on the identification Willy had procured.

Thus, Mr. and Mrs. William Suffolk had their reception at the Summers’ home.

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

Two months later, Buffy, Spike, Dawn and Wesley had flown to England.

Giles had worried about seeming hasty, but Willow assured him it was better for Buffy to fly before her pregnancy became too advanced.

Willow had chosen a robe instead of a more traditional wedding dress. The soft leaf green of the silky fabric contrasted with her hair, causing it to shine like molten copper.

She’d gotten a beautiful pale blue robe of similar cut for Buffy, but readily told Spike and Giles that she didn’t care what they wore, as long as they were there and on time.

The weather was cool, but sunny, as they walked out into the small stone circle. Candles were everywhere.

Angie had acquired beautiful bouquets of flowers for both women to wear around their hair.

Giles was more casual than Buffy thought she’d ever seen him, wearing a soft shirt of dark hunter green over a long sleeved, deep, dusty gold shirt. He’d paired them with heavy gabardine slacks in a rich brown.

“Giles, you look wonderful. You and Willow both. I’m really happy for you. Surprised, but happy.”

“Thank you, Buffy. I had no idea that… Is this how you feel?”

“You mean, happy? Yeah. Oh it’s not perfect, but then what is? Spike and I are not a normal couple; we live on the hellmouth and slay vampires and demons as our job.”

Buffy glanced down her body with a rueful expression.

“I’m turning into a little butterball, but yeah, this is what it’s like. We’re happy.”

“I’m glad. You, of course, do understand that no matter what else, you are still always MY Slayer?”

He smiled, letting her know he was teasing her beneath the serious tone.

“As long as you know that you are permanently my Watcher…Just because you got elected as the Head dude now, don’t think you can pawn me off to someone else.”

“Never, Buffy. Can you imagine what they’d do to me if I were to inflict you and Spike on them? Should I live through it, they’d never allow me to hear the end of it.”

Giles struggled to keep his features serious, but the outraged look his petite blonde Slayer wore, ruined that plan and he laughed hardily before pulling her into a hug.

“Hey, Buffy, are you over here snugglin’ with my fellow?”

Willow walked over to tuck her hand through Giles arm, smiling at her best friend.

“Yep. You leave him alone for a minute, he’s mine, Will.”

“Go get yours Buffy, before he drives Angie crazy with questions. I think she’s ready to start.”

Buffy caught the look that said Willow wanted a moment alone with Giles. Kissing both of them on the cheek, Buffy headed over to rescue Angie from Spike.

Tucking her arms through his to encircle his waist, Willow looked up at the older man.

“Still want to do this? No regrets?”

“I regret many of the things I did in my sinful youth; that I have to work such long hours away from you, currently. I regret that you were injured in any way after arriving here, but I do not regret that I love you and am about to marry you, Willow Rosenberg.”

Giles shot her a sly look, “Unless you have some regrets?”

“Nope. Not a one. At least none that concern you, Giles. Just the usual ones that you already mentioned. Guess we all have regrets behind us, but that’s where they are, behind us and we’re going forward, right?”

Willow glanced toward the row of standing stones, seeing Angie and Buffy motioning frantically.

“But I’m bettin’ Angie will make us regret not getting’ over there if we make her come get us.”

Reluctantly releasing his embrace on the small redhead, Giles captured her hand as they walked toward the waiting group.

“I suspect you’re quite correct. After the fuss she made about being the only person she’d allow to do our wedding, I think we should certainly humor her and attend it.”

Laughing, they approached the onlookers

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

As simple and elegant as Angie had kept the ceremony for Spike and Buffy, the older witch had decided to go all out for this one. Of course, she ‘had all of her tools here’ as she’d explained to them.

Regardless of her reasons, she did exactly as she’d promised, but the extra flourishes only added to the beauty of the ceremony.

Buffy stood next to Willow with Spike standing as Giles’ best man, something that surprised everyone when the Watcher had asked.

Pulling her attention back to the proceedings, Buffy felt the dampness fill her eyes as she listened to the words that closed the ceremony. They were the same ones Angie had used for she and Spike. Glancing across to see him watching her, the love he felt for her was evident in every line of his expressive face.

“As these two hearts have combined like the flame of their candles, made strong by love;

May the light of their love become a beacon by which they may always find one another. These children of the Gods have lit a candle in the darkness of the world. May it always burn with a steady light and if it should flicker or threaten to go out, may both raise a hand to guard and shield it.

For the candle of their love may well assist other travelers on the road of life.

So Mote It Be.”

Angie looked at the couple, a secret smile curving her mouth.

“Ye can be kissin’ tha bride now, Rupert.”

“I think that is an excellent idea.”

He followed word with deed as he pulled Willow into his arms, kissing her with the same passion he’d felt that first night.

Finally breaking to kiss so both could catch their breath… and to end the foot-tapping and muttered comments of their guests, Giles saw a flash of light from something shiny among the trees.

“What was that? Buffy, did you see something at the edge of the woods?”

“Yeah, should Spike and I go check it out? Do you think it was a problem?”

“Tis no problem at'll. Just a bit of a surprise for ye back at yer flat, Rupert, Willow.

We might should be headin’ that way as soon as I clear way a few things. Och! Leave the incense to burn. ‘Tis safe. An' tha’ birds will be thankful for the bread. William, would ye be carryin’ this basket for an old woman?”

“The day you get old, Angie, is a long time from now.”

He took the basket she’d packed with her various implements, “What tha’ bloody h…, ah, sorry. What did you put in here? It weighs a ton!”

“A bit of this an’ a bit of that. Does she no let ye get enou’h sleep, William?”

The matching shocked expressions from the blonde couple were enough to satisfy her, as she walked with a firm, striding step toward Giles’ building.

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

Giles scooped Willow up into his arms to carry her across the threshold of the flat.

“Careful, don’t hit my head”, Willow cautioned her new husband.

“Of course, dear. We’d not want to make you crazy, after all.”

Her comments at the hospital had become a running joke between them since he’d told her about them.

Setting the redhead’s feet firmly on the floor, he noticed the noises drifting from the kitchen and looked back at Angie, knowing she’d had a hand in this too.

“Do we have company?”

“Aye, ye do. ‘Tis time the rest of the family met everyone.”

Yanni and Yanose walked from the kitchen holding platters of food and the small wedding cake Willow had wanted.

It was several hours before the newlywed couple could escape, and even then, Buffy and Spike were still asking questions of the two Kalderash vampires.

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

“Well, we have met them. Are you happy with what we’ve nurtured so carefully over these long years?”

“Yes. It has all been for the best. She is all we could have hoped for. The power and purpose fill her. Just to look into her eyes is to see the strength, to see all who have gone before to create her. In her, they rise from the flames like the phoenix.”

“We have wrought well, Yanose.”

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

Spike and Giles had finally gotten new ‘800’ numbers for both households so Buffy and Willow could talk without every phone bill amounting to a small fortune.

The two women had been on the telephone for about an hour, as they compared notes and caught up on the gossip.

“It’s just so hard to believe that you actually had a skull fracture, Will. So every time Leon or Tara touched your head, they were actually healing it a bit?”

“That’s what Yanni told me. Then, of course, she and Angie did the major healing after they got me out of that horrible place, so no wonder the doctors were confused.

Angie promises she and Yanni will teach me how to do that now that I’ve had little Tara.”

“Trust me. They couldn’t possibly be as bad as Spike and Wesley were that last month before I had Brendan!”

“Don’t count on it! So when are you gonna send us some more pictures of the little tyke?”

“Little? Jeeze, Will, I wonder sometimes how I ever manage to slay any demons at all when just holding him practically breaks my arm. He’s thirty pounds now!”

“I’m glad then that Tara is only fifteen so far. You do know that they’re all speculating as to whether or not she’ll grow up to be a Watcher or a Slayer, don’t you?”

“I’m not surprised. They already have the two of them married!”

“Oooo! Speaking of which, how is Cordelia doing?”

“Still throwing her toenails up every morning. Angel’s insufferable.”

“Well, now that Connor is back from that other dimension and all grown, how does he feel about having a little brother of sister?”

“They say he’s looking forward to it. Connor wants to spoil his sibling-to-be as much as Angel and Cordy do…”

“At least they don’t have to worry about the teeth.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think we’d ever get Brendan to stop teething on the furniture, especially when he gets upset.”

“Well, like mother, like son.”

“Will! I never chewed the furniture! But on the subject of chewing, I need to go make lunch for Brendan. Give Giles and my niece a kiss for me and my love to Yanni, Yanose and Angie when you see them. Gotta run, love you, Will.”

“Love you too, Buffy. Hug my nephew and Spike. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

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

Wesley and Dawn had finished their training session at the mansion and were ready to head out on patrol, when the slim, young Slayer stopped, turning to lay a hand on her Watcher’s arm. Something he’d said reminded her of a previous conversation with Buffy.

“Wes, I never did thank you for agreeing to come back here to be my Watcher. I know Buffy and Giles were matched up so well… and I think that we’re lucky to be just as well matched. So, what I’m trying to tell you, is thank you. For being here, for putting up with me and for being my friend, for everything, Wesley.”

“Why, thank you, Dawn. I’m glad to be here. You’ve helped me as much as I’ve tried to help you. Before they asked me to come back here, I was lost and certain that a bad end was in store for me. I’m glad I’m here.”

“You’re so cute, Wes. Let’s go kill some bad guys.”

Dawn stood on tiptoe, quickly placing a shy kiss on his cheek before grabbing her weapons bag and heading out the door.

“Wes… flies, dude. Close your mouth and go catch your Slayer.”

Faith stood just inside the doorway watching them for a long moment before joining the hunt.

“Of course, I think she’s plannin’ to catch you”, the ghostly Slayer remarked to no one in particular.

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

Lindsey looked up from the book he was studying as the front door of the hotel opened.

A slender, well-built brunette with a pixie-ish face and laughing eyes walked toward him, her hand extended.

Shaking the woman’s hand, Lindsey asked the normal question they all used for walk-ins.

“Hi, Welcome to Angel Investigations. Is there something we can do to help you? My name is Lindsey and you are…?”

The voice was sultry. It had a warm, purring quality that sent a shiver down the ex-lawyer’s spine.

“I received a phone call from a young woman named Cordelia. She told me to ask for you specifically. She said you could tell me about my sister. I’ve not seen her in years, not since she was Called as the Slayer. Oh, I know she’s dead now, but I’d still like to know about her. Her name was Faith. Mine is Hope.”

“I’ll be happy to tell you everything I can, Hope. Do you have a place to stay in town? This could take a while.”

Gillian Silverlight 11/2/2002