Chapter 16

“New York!” Buffy whispered. “How?”

“Rack,” Anya answered bluntly. “He must have brokered a deal with a demon. The broken amulet he left was a token. We haven’t identified it yet, but we will,” Anya promised. Tara huddled into herself. She wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach, trying to stop herself from puking.

Spike frowned. He shifted Buffy away from him and sank to his knees in front of Tara, hesitantly reaching out a hand. Tara released her tight grip from her waist and grabbed hold of his hand with both of hers. “Columba?” Spike titled his head to one side and watched her, concern colouring his eyes.

Tara shook her head. “I just realised that the Willow I loved is gone…” She trailed off as tears filled her eyes.

Anya flung her arm around the grieving girl’s shoulders and hugged her hard. “I am sorry, Tara,” she whispered, showing a surprising amount of concern for the grieving Wicca.

“Tara, we’ll get her back,” Buffy promised.

“I…I don’t know if we can,” Tara mumbled, dropping her head, her fair hair obscuring her face.

Wesley glanced over at Groo and sighed worriedly. “We may have no choice.”

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked.

“Well, from the small amount I have managed to research and translate, we will need Willow if we are indeed going to attempt to restore Dawn. She…well, she has some of Dawn’s essence.” Wesley shuffled through his notes and re-read them to confirm his suspicions. He nodded and then handed his notes to Spike.

Spike shifted and stood as he read Wesley’s small and crabbed handwriting, nodding and muttering under his breath. Buffy had stood as well and watched the blond vampire anxiously. He looked up and nodded at his concerned lover.

“Yeah, looks like we’re gonna have to go get the witch.” He handed the notes back to Wesley. Running his long fingers through his hair, Spike began to pace as he thought. Eventually, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of crumpled cigarettes. “I need a fag. Back in a sec…” He disappeared out of the front door.

“Spike?” Buffy’s concerned voice made the silent vampire jump. He flicked away his half-smoked cigarette and turned to face his love.

“S’alright, luv. Just pondering.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his side. Buffy sighed and snuggled her head into the curve of his neck.

“The others are brainstorming inside. I didn’t want to interrupt. Wesley wanted to contact the Council and get them to pick up Willow…” She trailed off and frowned. “But Anya talked him outta that dumb idea.”

“How’s Glinda?” Spike asked quietly.

“Not of the good. She’s real quiet. I think that maybe she’s realised that she and Willow are really over now. Before, I guess she was hoping that they might have sorted something out.”

“Luv. Maybe if we can get to Red, the turtledoves can try again…” Spike shook his head. “Christ, what am I sayin’?”

“Spike, don’t get pissed, but you really are a softie!” Buffy giggled at the expression of shock on Spike’s face. She tucked her head back under his chin and pressed a soft kiss to his Adam’s apple. “What I mean is, you are the eternal romantic.”

“Love’s Bitch more like,” Spike interjected. He hugged his Slayer even closer.

“No…well, yes. What I mean is, you are always hoping that love will win out,” Buffy tried to explain.

Spike pressed his lips to the top of her head, his lips lingering in the softness of her hair. “I get it pet.”

Buffy pulled back slightly and gazed solemnly. “You know, we are going to have to go get her, don’t you?”

Spike sighed. He had dreamt of taking Buffy away for a break, but not on a chase after a fallen Wiccan and a sick fuck. “Yeah, I know. We’d better sort ourselves out, book flights and pack. Think that lot’ll manage the Hellmouth alright?”

“I think the four of them will manage okay.”

“Three. I’m coming with you.” Tara’s stepped out of the house and stood framed in the doorway.

Spike looked over at the determined girl. “Not happening, Columba. You don’t need the grief.” Buffy nodded in agreement.

“I am coming. There is nothing either of you can say to change my mind.” Tara turned and walked back into the dining room, joining the others. “You’ll need me…” Her voice faded away as she disappeared.

Spike grimaced. “She’s right. I don’t like it, but she’s right. We’ll need someone who can pack a bitta mojo. If were going up against those two…”

Buffy sighed. “I know…but I don’t want Tara to be hurt anymore than she has been.”

“We’ll protect her.” Spike tenderly cradled Buffy’s face in his strong hands. “I’ll protect you both. I promise.”

Buffy’s eyes filled with tears at the tenderness and devotion in his bright blue eyes. She wrapped her small hands around his wrists and leant into his hands, drawing comfort from his strength. They stood there for a long moment before breaking apart and re-joining the others in the house.

Xander lay in his ward and counted the cracks on the ceiling. He was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. His mind was whirling. All Xander could see when he closed his eyes was Willow and her dark eyes. She turned towards him and smiled mockingly, daring him to save the day, but he knew that whatever he did would still result in her complete corruption and Dawnie’s destruction. He had failed all of them.

“Mr Harris? You need anything?” A dark-skinned nurse leant over his bed and peered at Xander.

“Water,” he rasped. His mouth was dry from all the meds that had been pumped into him.

A straw appeared in front of his mouth. “Sip slowly.”

Carefully, Xander sipped the lukewarm water. It was like fine champagne to the parched invalid. Coughing slightly, he nodded his thanks.

“You need something to help you sleep?” the nurse asked.

“No, thanks,” Xander tried to smile, but it hurt. He had managed to control the pain during Buffy and Anya’s visit earlier, but now he was too tried to erect a façade of good cheer.

“Okay. I’m just going to check on Miss Madison across the hall.”

“Madison? Amy? Brunette girl my age?” Xander blinked his eyes and tried to sit up, only to fall back groaning in pain. His broken legs throbbed from his attempt to sit up.

“Hey, keep still!” The nurse gently pushed him back. “You know her?”

“Yeah, we are school friends. She okay?” Xander asked worriedly.

“Well, I can’t really divulge too much. Patient confidentiality,” the nurse offered.

“But, is she going to be okay?”

The nurse glanced over his shoulder and then leaned forward. “She’s not good. Coma, the doctors can’t work it out.”

“Can I see her?” Xander asked.

“Well.” The nurse eyed Xander’s legs and then the door. “I guess we could wheel your bed into her room. It might help if there was someone there, talking to her. Let me go check and see if that’s alright.” The nurse’s shoes squeaked as he disappeared out of the ward.

Xander tried to relax his aching muscles whilst he waited for the man to return. ‘I may not be able to help with the Slayage, but, maybe I can do something for Amy. Little steps.’ He grimaced at the stupidity of his final thought. He really doubted he would be walking anytime soon.

“Hi, Xander.”

Xander froze. The familiar voice, which usually brought him pleasure, now chilled him to the core.

He turned to face his visitor. “Willow. What you doing here?”

His dark-haired friend stepped forward into the pool of light around his hospital bed. Xander shuddered at the sight of the black veins that pulsated across her pale cheeks. Her cupid bow lips were dark and chapped, his eyes wandered to them as Willow licked them.

“I slipped back to see you. Didn’t you miss me?” Willow asked in a mock cheerful tone.

Xander swallowed nervously, his hand wrapped around the nurse’s alarm. But then he let it go; knowing that if he called for help, Willow would probably hurt them. “Slipped back from where, Willow?” he asked nervously.

Willow rolled her eyes at his nervousness. She trailed her hand up the cast on his left leg. “Not telling. But I can’t stay long. Someone’s waiting for me.”

“Well. What do you want?” Xander asked cautiously. He shifted slightly and then gasped in pain.

Willow watched Xander’s pale face as he rode out the pain. Pain she had caused.

“To help you,” she answered quietly.

“How? You gonna fix me like you did Dawnie. Remember her?” Xander muttered, wishing Buffy was here to save him. ‘Hell, I’d be happy to see Spike right now!’

Willow frowned angrily. “Don’t mention that name!”

“What, Dawn?” Xander could resist asking. He hoped that Willow’s conscience would return with a reminder of the teen.

Willow stepped closer and glared at him. She pushed the tiny residue of guilt over Dawn to the furthest reaches of her mind. ‘I was not going to feel bad. What’s done is done.’ Nothing she could do would change the events of the last few days. ‘Well, there is one thing I can do.’  Willow put her hands on Xander’s plaster encased legs.

“Hey! Don’t touch me, Willow. You’ve done enough!” Xander shifted as best he could. He nearly passed out from the pain of the bones in his legs grinding together. Beads of sweat broke out along his hairline. “Willow. Don’t try and fix me! Please…” he begged, terrified that he would disappear in a flash of light, too. “I don’t wanna end up like Dawnie!”

Willow’s black eyes snapped to his face. “Well, you whine like she did!” Willow snarled angrily.

“Wills, don’t. You loved her too…” Xander’s voice trailed off at the look of complete indifference on her face. “What? You’ve forgotten how much you cared about her? Come on, Willow, remember how you looked after her when Buffy was…”

“Dead?” Willow interrupted. “So I was doing the Jewish guilt thing for a while. But come on, little Dawn must gotten on your last nerve, too. With the whining, sulking and yelling. ‘Waaaa… waaa… waaa… I’m the Key! No one understands my angst!’ Combined with all the fake teen hormones, little Dawnie’s voice could hit supersonic pitches!!” She shuddered dramatically.

Xander lay there and stared in astonishment at the complete transformation of Willow from a sweet, nice girl to, well, a mega bitch. “You don’t mean that!”

Willow laughed cruelly. “Oh, come on, it’s not like you didn’t think the same stuff!”

“No, I loved her like a little sis!” Xander shouted back.

“Don’t you mean like the monks made you love her? Cos maybe the false memories and shit really did a number on us! How do you know that things might not have been better without that cuckoo in our lives?”

Xander blinked at Willow, aghast at the vitriol pouring out of her.

“Nothing to say? Well think about this. If Dawn hadn’t been shoehorned into our lives, Buffy would never have died. She would have been happier and healthier.” Going for the jugular, Willow smiled evilly. “Hell, she may never have hooked up with Spike.” Willow smirked savagely at the expression of horror on her oldest friend’s face. She had planted a seed, and maybe with a little nurturing, it would flower. “Xander, you know you hate Spike! Maybe if Buffy had not had to kill herself cos of that brat, she wouldn’t have hooked up with another animated corpse. I mean, she’s now into the whole ‘poor me I had to crawl outta my grave. Like a vamp! So maybe Spike will understand my pain’.”

Willow watched the myriad emotions cross Xander’s face. “Stop it!” Xander begged, hating that Willow was voicing his own angry thoughts. They sounded petty and cruel to him when said aloud. Shame crawled in his gut.

“Stop what?” Willow asked innocently. “Stop with the whole maybe Buffy only turned to Spike cos he was offering a bit of cold comfort? Don’t you think that maybe she is only with him cos of her rebirth? She probably thinks she’s the living dead now! And why would she think that?” Willow tapped a finger to her chapped lips, pretending to think. “Oh, I know! She’s the way she is cos of dying for Dawn! Maybe Dawn was the one who shoulda jumped. It could have been her destiny!”

Xander lay there in shock. He shook his head. Before he could say anything, he felt Willow push into his mind and scan his memories. He fought as best he could from the mental rape, but she was too strong.

Willow started to laugh. “Oh, my goddess! You thought she would notice you?” She giggled. “This is too much! Man you must hate her for picking a vampire over you. Twice!”

Tears began to pour down Xander’s face, he felt violated. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. “Go away.”

Willow pouted. “Why? I’m having sooo much fun!” She eyed the sobbing man on the narrow hospital bed. ‘And planting some nice ideas in your weak little brain. Should keep them all off our backs for a while.’ She yawned. “Okay, bored now…”

“Well get gone then!” Xander growled. 

“Yeah, in a minute, just need to do this.” With that, Willow grabbed hold of Xander’s plaster clad legs. He yelped in anguish, her jostling had started the throbbing in his legs. Crackles of black lightening shot out of Willow fingers, soaking into the Plaster of Paris and then into his legs.

Xander panted, the pain was lessening and he could feel the shattered bones shifting and healing under Willow’s none too gentle ministration.

“There you go, all better now.” Willow dusted her hands together.

“Why? Why help me, Wills?” Xander whispered.

For a few seconds her hair lightened to the bright red he remembered and the black veins on her face receded. She looked up with clear green eyes. “Because I had to. It was my fault you were hurt.” Gradually the darkness seeped back into her hair and eyes. “Now I have to go. Rack and his buddy are waiting for me!”

“What? How? Why?” Xander’s mind recoiled from the images of Willow and two guys. “Wills, are they making you do something you don’t wanna do?”

Willow grinned and ran her hands over her breasts, knowing exactly what he was intimating. “Oooh, Xander, the things they do to my body and mind are amazing! It’s just such a blast! Okay gotta go.” She pulled out a token and snapped it in half, vanishing in the blink of an eye and leaving her grieving friend huddled in his bed, his mind filled with horror. The broken halves of the token lay on his blanket, shimmering dully.

“So what’s the plan?” Buffy leant over and began to look at the piles of paper and books on the dining table. Spike vanished into the kitchen to grab drinks and food.

“Well, we’re still working on this.” Wesley pointed at the small leather book that Whistler had given Tara. “It’s slow work, but I think that I am getting there.” Tara looked up from a sheaf of photocopied papers and nodded in agreement.

“Unfortunately there is not much I can assist you at the moment,” Groo commented from the other room, where he sat sharpening some of Buffy’s weapons. “So I am occupying myself with these.”

Buffy walked over and picked up a dagger that Groo had set aside. She eyed the blade with a professional eye. “It looks good, thanks. I haven’t had much time to sort through these.” She tentatively patted Groo on the shoulder. “Just being here is more than enough. Also, when you are ready, there’s always patrolling.”

“I would be honoured to assist.” Groo smiled broadly, then turned back to the quiver of arrows that he had been checking the fletching on.

Spike reappeared with more sandwiches, a pot of cocoa and mugs. He silently set the tray on the table. The vampire grabbed a mug and sipped it carefully. Groo set aside the quiver and, with Buffy, rejoined the others at the table as they drank and ate.

Anya flipped through some paperwork from the bank that Buffy had dumped on the dining table earlier. She looked over at the others as they researched and ate. "Buffy, have you mentioned this to everyone yet?" Anya waved the sheaf of papers in her hand and the blonde girl.

"What's that Anya?" Wesley took the papers and began reading. He glanced over at Buffy in surprise.

Buffy flushed, slightly uncomfortable at all the attention being directed towards her. Spike nudged her in the arm. "Luv, what you been up to?"  He nodded over at Wesley.

Buffy nibbled her lip. "Well, it was both of us." She pointed at Anya. "It's just when I saw the full balance, I realised that I could pay us all wages and have an emergency fund just from the interest!"

Spike snagged the bank account details and skimmed over to the new balance. He drew in an un-needed breath. "Bloody hell, you're loaded! The old skinflint had all this dosh and never shared? Bloody Irish git!" Spike flicked through the rest of the paperwork, he paused for a second and scanned the separate account that Buffy had opened with a large sum from her own. Spike nodded in approval. "Sound idea, pet. A Scooby account. So what needs doing, a few John Hancock's and bob's your uncle?"

"Yes." Anya reached over and began distributing the relevant forms. "Sign these and I can get everything sorted." Spike stared in surprise at the form she pushed in front of him. He hadn't thought that Buffy would have considered him one of the Scoobies, despite everything that had happened in the past few days. He gazed at the piece of paper as if it were soaked in Holy Water, his mind working overtime. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; unsettled at the direction his overactive imagination was taking him. He glanced over at Buffy, his eyes narrowed.

Anya looked over at Buffy for a moment and tilted her head in question. Buffy smiled and nodded. "Right," Anya placed her hands flat on the table, her manicured nails tapping a gentle rhythm. "Buffy and I were going to discuss this all with you tomorrow. She has asked me to be in charge of the accounts, all of you will be given an $8000.00 wage, paid first day of the month. I will arrange transfers into you respective accounts. Groo," Anya turned to the silent Pylean, "we weren’t sure if you had the correct paperwork or even a bank account. So if you haven't, we need to get you sorted."

"I have nothing but what I brought with me, Anyanka," Groo answered.

Anya made a few notes. "It's okay. I know a good demon forger, he can have everything done in a week or so."

Before Anya could continue, Wesley interrupted her with an apologetic glance, "Cordelia didn't get anything organised for you?" he asked, surprised.

"Well, no. I never realised such things were necessary. Where I came from, well, you were there..." Groo trailed off at Wes's nod of understanding.

"Okay, Groo? Can you come with me to the shop in the morning? We can get started on making a paper trail for you. Until then, I'll pay you cash." Anya made a few more notes.

"Good call, pet," Spike whispered into Buffy's ear. His cool breath tickled and made her squirm with budding desire. "Demon girl is right smart with money! I bet by the time we get Dawn back, she'll have made you richer than Bill Gates!" He suppressed the niggling irritation that he felt; the vampire knew deep down he was making mountains out of molehills.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "She wants your bank stuff as well." She grinned at the worried look on the vampire's face. "What William, worried that everyone'll find out what your surname is?"

"Why my details?" he hissed, ignoring the bit about his surname.

"Well, to transfer funds of course." Buffy blinked innocently over at her lover.

"No need, the Grandpops gave me my allowance, " Spike snapped at her as he pushed the paperwork away from his hand, eyeing it distastefully. "I don't need to be a kept by my woman!" He glared at Buffy. Standing abruptly, the chair he sat in clattered to the floor as he stalked out of the room, into the kitchen. Buffy winced as she heard his muttered words. "Not a bloody gigolo that needs a tip for services rendered!"

Buffy sighed and then smiled apologetically at the frozen figures of her four friends and associates. She hadn't even considered that Spike might take it the wrong way. 'I was only trying to help. Crap! Mr. Moodypants.’ Buffy stood. "Umm, I'll just go talk with Spike. You guys keep going." Buffy grinned apologetically and scurried off after Spike.

"Well, were was I?" Anya tried not to roll her eyes at the fine display of the male ego at work. She sighed and put down the papers she was holding. "Really, he is really quite sensitive! All we were trying to do was make life easier for all of us. It's not like the Powers or the Council are reaching into their pockets to help out their first line of defence!"

"Anya, I think Spike is just tried, worried and grieving." Tara leant over and smiled tentatively at the frustrated ex-demon. "He probably just needs to go hit something. You know how he gets." Tara and Anya exchanged a knowing look.

"What?" Wesley asked, his curiosity overwhelming him.

"Spike was miserable when they first put that chip in him." Anya paused for a moment. "It really was quite funny, a bit like Pavlov's dog! If he even got an evil fangy related thought, the chip would twinge." Tara nodded in agreement. "I sometimes think Xander just says stuff to get Spike mad." 

Wesley stared in shock at Anya. "Xander would deliberately provoke a Master Vampire to hurt him? Is the boy dim or something? Isn't he worried that Spike won't find a way to remove the chip?"

"Umm. Well, Xander isn't one for forward planning." Anya shrugged. "Now, I want these all signed now." She tapped her hand impatiently on the dining table.

The phone rang.

"Spike wait!" Buffy chased after his black clad form. Twisting and weaving around the crumbling tombstones, she tripped over a small cherub statue that sat guard over a child's grave. Before she could hit the ground, a pair of hands wrapped around her waist and threw her hard against a dilapidated Mausoleum. She grunted as her head made contact with the marble. "Spike," she whispered as the darkness claimed her. A large form stepped over her small slumped body, it's hands clenched into large fists.

Spike stormed through the oldest Sunnydale cemetery, ignoring Buffy's calls. Too caught up in his bad mood, he failed to sense the demon that attacked Buffy. It was only when he heard Buffy whisper his name that he froze in his tracks. Spinning abruptly, Spike gasped, all he could see was the back of a massive Chirago demon standing over Buffy's slumped form. He sniffed the air, 'Buffy's hurt!' Spike's eyes narrowed in pure fury and shifted from blue to gold as his game face slid into place. He gauged the distance between himself and the mountain of demon flesh.

The Chirago grunted as Spike impacted against his back. It turned slowly to face the irate vampire.

"You filthy son of a bitch! You touched my girl!" Spike snarled and launched himself at the behemoth. With a flurry of blows, he began to methodically rearrange its pig-like features. Spike's guilt spurred him on. He knew that Buffy was hurt because she had been distracted chasing after him. Trying to make un-needed amends to him, for his perceived insult to his manhood. 'She was excited and wanted to share her good fortune, you nit. And what do you do? Get pissy with her, act like the Whelp and run away! Now she's hurt and bleeding.' Spike rammed his fists into the Chirago's throat. He relished the exhaled yelp of pain. The beserker vampire's clawed nails tore into the small eyes of his opponents. 'Ooops! Big no no!' Spike thought as the Chirago heaved its arms upwards and tossed Spike off with the ease of swatting a fly. 'Okay, new plan, punching not working.' Spike flipped himself upright and bounced on the balls of his feet.

The Chirago had turned back to the unconscious girl, intent on it’s meal. It leant over and reached for Buffy's head. Before it could tear it off, Spike wrapped his arms around the demon's neck and began to squeeze. The demon grunted as it tried to pull the determined vampire of its back. Gradually, Spike's throttling began to work and the massive demon fell face forwards, unconscious. Growling, Spike flipped Buffy's attacker over, and, with great relish, twisted its head abruptly. With a resounding crack, the Chirago's neck snapped. Not even pausing to check the carcass, Spike threw himself over to the tiny slumped form of the slayer. Her fair hair was over her face.

"Buffy? Luv, wake up." Spike gently pulled her lax form into his arms and smoothed her hair away from her still features. "Come on, pet. Open those lovely eyes of yours," he begged. Carefully, he ran his fingers over a cut that ran along her hairline, it was rapidly closing. "Oh, my heart. I am a bad rude man! I am so sorry." Spike cradled her face to his throat.

"You are also very hormonal,  you sure you aren’t a girl?" Buffy muttered into his pale skin. She licked her lips and tilted her head to eye Spike balefully. "My head hurts cos of you and the sulkage!" She pouted.

"Oh, my heart, my love! I am so sorry." Spike carefully traced the wound with his lips, pressing small kisses along it. “And, oi! Not a girl here!” Spike laughed. “As you well know.”

"You feel better for the rough and tumble?" Buffy mumbled.

"Wot? Oh yeah, but not about my lady getting hurt cos I was a git." Spike kissed her soft lips, lingering over them and inhaling her breath.

"It's okay, I'll be fine. But can we go back? Cos there's a lot to do." Buffy asked.

Spike rose, cradling her in his arms. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, take me home," Buffy ordered imperiously.

"Right. I'm sorry, luv." Spike looked sheepishly at the dead lump of rapidly decomposing demon flesh. "It's good when they clear up after themselves isn't it?"

"Uh huh, let’s go, the others are waiting." Buffy snuggled her head into Spike's throat and closed her eyes.

"Good Lord, what happened?" Wesley exclaimed. All of them stood at the sight of a Buffy cradled protectively in Spike's arms.

"Chirago, blindsided her," Spike explained tersely as he gently laid Buffy on the couch. "Wake up, pet, we're home." He gently rubbed his fingers over her cheek.

"Hmmm." Buffy's eyes fluttered open and she nuzzled her cheek against Spike palm.

Tara and Anya pushed Spike aside, anxiously checking Buffy for other injuries. "How many fingers?" Anya waved her hand in front of Buffy's face.

"A lot!" she joked. "I'm fine, guys, really!" Buffy pushed herself up from the couch and swung her legs over the edge. "Spike, stop looking so worried. It was an accident." She smiled reassuringly at the agitated vampire, who now sat next to her.

"You sure?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes. So what's the plan, Scoobies?" she asked, turning to the four other who stood in a semi circle around her and Spike.

Tara stepped forward. "We need to find Willow. We also need to keep working on the translation of Whistler’s book as well as work out the spell for Dawnie."

Buffy sighed tiredly and rubbed her face. "Okay, so we need to get to New York and track Willow down." She squinted up at Tara. "Can you work on the book and spell on the plane?"

"Yes. Wesley is going to keep on the translations at this end, as well. Anya photocopied the text."

"You need a laptop," Anya interrupted.

"Umm, why?" Spike frowned in confusion.

"We can email anything to you and visa versa, it'll speed things up. You'll need to set up hotmail accounts and Wesley can use the shop PC," Anya suggested. She grinned at the Wesley’s nod of approval. "But before you guys go anywhere, we need to spring Xander from the hospital. He called and, well, he was a bit upset and said we'd understand when we got there."

“Spike, can you get a laptop?” Buffy asked.

“Won’t be legit, but yeah, can do.” He looked hesitantly at Buffy. “Um, now?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah, take Groo with you and show him around, hot spots and all that, ‘kay?” Buffy stood. “I’m gonna clean up a bit. Anya, we’ll got the hospital and get Xander.”

The ex-demon nodded. “Okay. I have all the paperwork. Spike,” She turned to the silent vampire who stood next to Buffy. “Stop being a baby, sign the papers and then I can get everything organised.”

Tara pulled on Wes’s arm. “Could you come with me to my dorm? I can show you the campus and then pack for the trip.” The ex-Watcher nodded his assent.

“Guys, be back here as soon as you can, okay?” Buffy called after the Tara and Wesley as they left. She then turned back to Groo, “So, you any good looking after cats and kittens?”

Groo frowned. “What are they? Demons of some sort?”

Buffy laughed. “Nope, come on, I’ll show you. Cos I guess you’ll be staying here while we are in New York.” She pulled the puzzled Pylean into the kitchen to introduce him to Miss Kitty and her charges.

“Here you go.” Spike handed over the bank paperwork to Anya.

She tucked them into a folder. “I am glad you decided not to be an idiot over this. Really, men are just big babies.” She flounced out, leaving the bemused vamp staring at her in surprise. “Tell Buffy I’ll be in the car.”

“It will be my honour to care for you pets.” Groo smiled reassuringly down at the small Slayer. “I will guard them with my life.”

Buffy patted the tall man on his elbow. “Just make sure they are fed, that they behave themselves and I’ll be happy.”

“Demon girl’s in the car waiting for you, pet.” Spike jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

She stood on her tiptoes and pecked Spike on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, honey.” With that, she trotted out of the house, making a mental note to finish cleaning up when she got back.

“Honey?” Groo asked.

“Not a word, Conan,” Spike snarled. “Come on, time for a bit of B & E.”

"Um, Xander, how come you're standing up?" Buffy eyed the brunette in surprise.

Anya fluttered around Xander. "I don't understand, did the doctors get it wrong?" She turned to Buffy. "Doctors are supposed to always be right! How could they get this so wrong? I don't understand!"

"Ahn, calm down." Xander shifted uncomfortably.

Buffy eyed him suspiciously. "Xander, what are you hiding?" she asked firmly.

"Well, I..." Xander avoided their concerned eyes.

"Spit it out, Xander," Anya ordered.

"Willow."

"Oh, she fixed you." Buffy ran her hands worriedly over his bulky frame. "You okay? No weird side effects?" she asked.

"No...Well..." Xander hesitated over mentioning the mental rape he had endured from his best friend.

"Xander, what did she do?" Anya caught his chin and forced him to look at her.

"She got into my head. It was awful, felt dirty. I feel violated," Xander whispered. He looked over at Buffy. "It’s so not Willow..."

Buffy shrugged, her fury over Willow's earlier actions hadn't dissipated. "Xander, I think that maybe the Willow we knew is gone." She turned her head away from Xander and fiddled with her purse strap, unwilling and unable to offer any trite comforting words. She was no where near ready to forgive Willow for hurting all of them and also for vaporising Dawn.

"No, don't say that! We have to get her back," Xander argued weakly.

"And then what? Send her to rehab?" Buffy asked impassively. Anya wrung her hands anxiously, watching the heated exchange between the two.

"We have to help her, I can't let Willow go..." Xander trailed off.

"Oh, hunny." Anya hugged him close, her anger over Willow's behaviour suppressing her negative feelings for Xander briefly. She tried to comfort him.

Xander shook her off of him, unwilling to be touched by anyone after his experiences over the last hour. Ignoring both girls’ surprised gasps, he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a token. "She used this to get away." He handed the two pieces over to Anya. He refrained from elaborating, he was disgusted with Willow for allowing herself to be used and didn't want any of the others knowing what was happening, particularly Tara.

"Hey, this is the same as the one Rack used in the store." Anya tucked the two halves into her pocket. "I'll put them with the others and research them tomorrow morning. I'll call you, Buffy, with any information I get on the pieces." Buffy nodded her thanks.

"Call? Why? Aren't you gonna be helping with the books? Or are you going to be too busy with Spike to do your Slayer duties?" Xander grumbled, he noticed both the girls glaring at him. "What?"

"For your information, Xander, Spike, Tara and I are going after Willow. I need her back, she has taken part of Dawnie with her," Buffy informed him coolly. "Anya, I'll be in car waiting, okay?" With that, Buffy turned and left the waiting room, anger suffusing every slender line of her body.

"Oh..." Xander shifted uncomfortably/ "Hey! Why is Spike going?"

Anya rolled her eyes at his stupidity. "Because he needs to," she answered cryptically.

"Needs to? So they are gonna be bringing Willow back?" The image of his raven-haired schoolmate flickered into his mind and he tried to repress a shudder of horror.

"I don't know. I guess it'll depend on whether or not she wants to be brought back, doesn't it?" Anya pulled Xander from the room and headed over to the nurse’s station.

"I guess." Xander doubted that Willow would be happy to see Buffy and Spike. Let alone  Tara. He glnced over at Any’s room, promising himself that he would visit her later.

"Alright, mate?" Spike sauntered into the demon bar, his thumbs hooked into his jeans pockets. Scanning to room for troublemakers, the vampire was a study of power and grace. Groo stood slightly behind and was openly scanning the entire bar, his face a cross between curiosity and wariness. Spike had explained to him on their various stops in the demon bars and meeting points that he couldn't go in mace a-swinging, but had to exercise a bit of patience. Groo was unaware that Spike’s comments about patience in connection with himself, would have caused the Scoobies to fall about with laughter. They would never have believed that the vampire could be anything but impulsive!   Groo had solemnly taken Spike's advice on board and was now learning the finer points of having a network of contacts in Sunnydale. The vampire had introduced him to a couple of demons and had, in essence, provided some invaluable contacts for the newbie.

"Hey Spike," The floppy skinned demon that the vampire had addressed waved enthusiastically at the duo. His loose skin flopping rather energetically as gestured for them to join him. "Beer? Nachos?" Clem pushed over some glasses and a half-filled pitcher of beer. "Hey Spike, who's the big guy?"

"Clem, this Groo. He's a mate." Spike leant over and snagged a couple of cheese covered corn chips and ate them with relish.

"Hi!" Clem reached over and grabbed Groo's large hand and pumped it up and down. "Nice to meet another friend of Spike's. So you know the Slayer, too?" The disingenuous demon grinned happily at the Pylean Champion.

Groo glanced over at Spike, who shrugged nonchalantly at him as he sipped his beer. "Um, I do know her?" Spike nodded, silently indicating to Groo that Clem could be trusted.

"She's a peach, that one." Clem turned to Spike. "So did she and Dawn like the kittens? How did Buffy cook them up?" Clem grinned at Spike, showing a row of surprisingly sharp teeth. Spike repressed a shudder at the thought of those teeth tearing into a cat.

Spike blinked at Clem, surprised at how openly the loose-skinned demon praised the slayer and secondly revolted at the idea of roasting the two hairballs that Buffy and his Nibblet have fallen in love with. His eyes briefly filled with guilt over his two girls. 'Oh, Christ! I let Mini Slayer down.' Spike tried to also suppress the scent memory of his Golden girl’s blood from earlier this evening. Buffy had told him to not worry, but she had been hurt because of him. Spike made a mental note to make amends to his Slayer.  Shaking himself out of his revere, he answered, "Oh no, mate, she's kept them as pets." Spike left it at that, unwilling to have to try and explain again that humans didn't eat felines.

Groo shifted slightly in his seat, he leant forward. "Do you eat small cats?" he queried.

Clem's face lit up. "Oh yeah! They are so tasty, bit of garlic and some nice shallots..." he trailed off at the expression on the Pylean's face. The amiable demon realised that he was treading on thin ice and swiftly changed the subject. "Well, I guess we better get down to business." Reaching behind him, he pulled a large box over to the table. "I think I have everything that you wanted."

Spike stood and hefted the box and quickly checked through the contents. There were three brand new top of the line laptops. "So they're the best?"

"Oh yeah, my brother-in-law totally flipped when I went over and asked for top of the line laptops and not to worry about how much they cost!" Clem dug through his pockets and pulled out a receipt. "Here you go." He handed it over to Spike.

Spike's eye widened at the amount scribbled on the receipt, it was into six digits. Muttering under his breath, he pulled out a roll of notes and handed them to Clem with a nod of thanks. The vampire carefully sat the box under the table and resumed his seat, downing the last of his beer, he sighed. "Needed that! Thanks mate for coming through for me so quickly."

Clem shrugged, sending a rippling motion through his folds. "Hey, no problem buddy. If there are any problems, my brother-in-law put his number on the receipt; call him and he can pretty much talk you through anything that could happen with the PCs."

Spike nodded his thanks. He leant forward. "Look, mate, can you do me a favour?"

"Sure thing, Spike." Clem grinned. "What?"

"I'm heading outta town for a bit, and, well, Groo here is gonna be minding the store." Spike jerked a thumb and the slightly inebriated Pylean, who had been quietly sipping at his beer and was light-headed from consuming alcohol for the first time in his life. Groo widened his eyes, trying to focus on the two Spikes who were now frowning at him.

Clem looked over at the slightly swaying Pylean. "Um, sure? I'll keep an eye on him." He patted Groo's hand. "You okay there, pal?"

"I think I have been poisoned," Groo slurred. He pushed the empty glass away. "My head feels funny and for some reason you appear to have a twin! What manner of poison is this?"

Spike chuckled at him. "No, Conan, not poisoned just pissed. You never had alcohol before?" The vampire tilted his head at the Pylean.

"Alcohol? What is that?" Groo shook his head, trying to clear his senses.

"Hey, Spike, is that a normal colour for him to be?" Clem eyed the grey-faced Champion worriedly.

"Crap, better get the lightweight home before he pukes on us!" Spike stood tucking his new purchases under one arm and helped up the now groaning Groosalaug. "You alright?" Groo shook his head, his lips a fine slash as he tried to stop himself from vomiting.

"Hey Spike, I don't think he's too well. You better get him home. Give him my mobile and pager numbers." Clem patted Groo comfortingly on the shoulder. "Hey, get better! Also, call me if you feel like hanging out."

Spike crept into Buffy's room. He could hear her soft, even breathing. "Bollocks!" The normally agile vampire tripped and fell, knocking his head against the bedside table.

"Hey, Mr. Stealthypants!" Buffy leaned over the side of the bed and eyed her rumpled lover. "What yah doing?" she chirped at him.

"Nothin’, just checking under the bed for dust bunnies." Spike pushed himself up and flopped onto the mattress. "So now you're laying traps to catch me?" Spike eyed the two large rucksacks that he had tripped over. "Them for us?"

"Yeah, Anya helped me pack. I think I've got everything." Buffy frowned anxiously. "Only thing I'm worried about is getting blood for you." She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Don't worry, pet, there's butchers in New York." Spike ran a tentative finger down the pink scar that followed her hairline. "Sorry, pet..."

Before he could say anything else, Buffy pressed her fingers to his lips. "No need, it was my bad too. No, get some rest, we have to get to LA tomorrow."

Spike kicked off his boots and then curled himself around his love's warm body.

Chapter 17

“If you don’t soddin’ well hurry up, Slayer, Glinda and I will leave without you!” Spike paced impatiently up and down in the hallway. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“Okay, I’m coming,” Buffy yelled as she trotted down the stairs. “Mr. Gordo needs to be packed.” She tossed her precious pig over to the impatient vampire, who caught the stuffed animal. He crammed the toy into the top of Buffy’s rucksack.

“Ready?” he asked impatiently. Buffy nodded and then disappeared into the sitting room to join Wesley, Groo and Tara who were busy going over last minute details. Spike sighed, ‘At this rate, we’ll never leave,’ rolling his eyes, and joined the others.

“Are you alright?” Buffy touched Groo tentatively on his muscled arm, she eyed the hung-over Pylean. “Spike! What did you make him drink last night?” Buffy crossed her arms and glared up at the blond vampire.

“Nothin’ much. Think he had half a pint, that’s all.” Spike propped himself in the doorway and smirked at her.

“You drank?” Wes turned to the suffering Pylean. “I thought you weren’t supposed to? Something about Champions in your dimension keeping your body pure?”

“Indeed. I was not aware that I was drinking anything alcoholic!” Groo rubbed his head tiredly.

“Lightweight,” Spike muttered under his breath.

“Spike!” Buffy glared at the unrepentant vampire who grinned at her wickedly. She turned back to Wesley. “So you have the email addresses for us and the mobile numbers?” Spike had found six enhanced mobile phones in the box Clem had given to him, a gift from the loose-skinned demon.

“ Yes, I think we have everything. I’ll make sure Anya gets her phone as well as the hotmail addresses we set up.” Wesley shuffled through his notes. He gazed longingly at the Clavian book, which Tara held in her hands. “I have copies of the book and will keep working on it. Anything I translate I will email to all of you.”

Tara nodded. “I’ll do the same.”

The front door banged open. Anya rushed in followed closely by Xander. “Are we too late to say goodbye?” Spotting Spike and the others, she relaxed. “Good! I really didn’t want to miss you guys.” She rushed over and patted Tara on the shoulder.

“Hey.” Xander waved awkwardly at the gathered group.

“I must say you look extremely well,” Wesley commented as he returned Xander’s wave. “Anya this is for you.” He handed over the mobile and a card with all their details on it. “Keep it safe.”

Anya nodded as she tucked it away. “Don’t worry.”

“Don’t I get a shiny new phone?” Xander grumbled.

“Sorry, Clem didn’t think about you,” Spike needled the recovering Scooby. Xander glared at the peroxide vampire.

“Spike…” Buffy warned.

Spike sighed. “Okay! Clem figured you wouldn’t need one cos of the one your bosses gave you.”

“Better.” Buffy patted her vampire on the arm.

“Right, I’ll just get this stuff into the motor.” Spike disappeared out into the sunlight, ignoring Xander’s exclamation of surprise.

“What? How?” The confused brunette asked.

“I told you he was immune to the sunlight, Xander. I guess the concussion made you forget.” Anya turned to face her fiancé and rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh yeah…” Xander sat down on the floor and rested his aching head on the arm of the sofa.

“So listen guys, I don’t want any of you taking any unnecessary risks while Spike, Tara and I are in New York.” Buffy stood and put her hands on her hips as she continued to lecture those remaining in Sunnydale. “There is a nest of vamps by the docks that I have cleared out a couple of times, but others keep moving into the empty lair. I’ve made a note on the map.” She tapped her finger on the map she’d tacked onto the wall by her mother’s writing desk. “Wesley, the older cemeteries seem to be in fashion at the moment for burying fledges, so keep an eye out on them if you can.”

“Yeah, have an idea about that.” Spike re-entered the house.

“What’s that, bleach boy?” Xander snarked half-heartedly at Spike, his head throbbed too badly to really have a real go at his rival.

Spike eyed Xander’s slumped figure briefly before turning to Groo and Wes. “I think it’s one older vamp turning a bunch of kids every now and then and burying them there. Sorta making a ritual of it. I asked Clem to keep an ear open. If he hears anything, he’ll call you lot.” Spike turned and picked up Tara’s rucksack and disappeared again.   

“Right, thanks…” Wesley called after his disappearing back.

“Since when did Spike get the ideas and the contacts?” Xander grumbled. He glared out into the hallway, jealously suffusing his entire being.

“Since he began patrolling every night with me,” Buffy replied mildly.

Xander flinched, guilt flooded through him. He tried to remember the last time he or any of the others had helped Buffy on patrol. ‘How about never?” He conscience whispered to him. He looked over at Buffy and recoiled from the even stare she gave him. ‘Oh man, she’s thinking the same as me!’ Xander glanced away, unable to keep eye contact. He vowed to himself to do more to help.

“I will endeavour to clear both areas when I patrol, Slayer,” Groo promised.

“Thanks.” Buffy smiled over at Groo in gratitude.

‘Okaaay, suck up!’ Xander thought resentfully. “Don’t worry, Buffster, we’ll all patrol for you.”

“For her?” Spike asked incredulously. Everyone jumped. They had not heard the light-footed vamp return. “How’s about doing it for the safety of Sunnydale? Puppies and Christmas?”

“Yes indeed,” Wesley interjected. “We will all ensure that the excellent level of patrolling that the two of you have maintained continues,” he promised.

Anya watched the myriad emotions cross Xander’s face. She held her tongue, aware that Xander was treading a fine line. She turned to Wesley. “So what about Amy?” The three had visited the unconscious Wiccan before they had left the hospital with Xander.

“I have contacted the Eistied’s leader and he has agreed to come and see if there is anything he can do to help her. Don’t worry, Buffy, we will keep you informed about her progress.”

Buffy nodded her thanks. She turned back to the map, running her fingers over the deserted High School. “We also swing past the Hellmouth every night on patrol to check no idiots are trying to open it.”

Wesley smiled briefly at her and made a quick notation.

“Time to go, luv.” Spike wrapped his arm around her slim shoulders.

“But there’s so much more to tell them…” Buffy worriedly whispered.

“We’ll muddle through, Buffy, don’t worry.” Wesley stood.

Xander snorted.

“What’s wrong, floppy boy?” Spike glanced over at Xander and sneered.

“Isn’t anyone gonna say her name?” Xander asked as he rubbed his recently healed legs.

“Xander, don’t…” Tara mumbled as she huddled into herself. The shock of hearing that Willow had returned and healed Xander’s injuries, in spite of her fumbled attempt at healing Dawn tore at the blonde. ‘She really never learns! Magic is not something she can use to right her wrongs.’ Tara closed her eyes, she was exhausted. She had tried to sleep for a couple of hours, but images of Willow’s dark eyes had stared back at her.  

“Sorry, Tara, but everyone seems to be avoiding talking about Willow.” Xander levered himself up and stood, glaring around the room in self-righteous indignation. 

Buffy shook off Spike’s arm and stalked over to Xander, prodding him in the chest. “What do you want me to say about Willow? She unmade Dawn? Well we all know that! Willow came back and used the same spell on her so-called best friend, not caring that she could do the same to you? We all know that, too! I’m angry about her actions? Well guess what? We all are! So, anything to add, Xander?”

“How about what are you’re going to do to her when you find her?” Xander retorted.

“Nothing.”

“What?” he yelped.

“Nothing, we are going to get Dawn back and that’s it.” Buffy folded her arms across her chest. “If you’ve got any suggestions?”

“Um, well… are you bringing her back?” Xander asked.

“If we can. But Xander, she may not want to come back.” Tara interjected.

Xander looked over at Tara, he struggled not to tell her about Rack and the other guy Willow had hooked up with. He was revolted by the images that had flooded his mind all night. But before he could say anything, Spike stepped up behind Buffy.

“So whelp, if we manage to drag the Queen of the Damned back to Sunnyhell, what are you gonna say to Red about the mental mind fuck she gave you?” Spike raised his scarred brow in question.

“Buffy! You told him?” Xander demanded, aghast that she’d broken his confidence. “What, a little pillow talk for you guys to indulge in?”

Buffy’s eyes widened at the angry tone. “No, Xander, nothing like that! I was worried. Spike wanted to know why, that’s all…” She reached over and took Xander’s hand. “I was scared that she had hurt my best friend. That’s all.”

Xander squeezed her slim hand. “Sorry, Buff, it’s just all too much to take in. I mean, this is Willow! Now she’s one of the bad guys, it just doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this does, Xander,” Anya whispered sadly. “But we have to just try and make it all better.”

“Thanks, Ahn,” he mumbled tiredly. “So you will try to help her? Cos she’s still Willow under the Blair Witch makeover.”

“We will,” Buffy promised. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Cool.” Xander grinned half-heartedly. “So, time for you guys to hit the road?”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed.

Buffy turned and hugged Anya goodbye. “Keep them safe, please, and call me whenever you need to talk, okay?”

The ex-demon nodded and squeezed Buffy hard. “I will, be safe and bring Dawnie back, please!”

“I will,” Buffy promised. She turned to Wesley and Groo. “What can I say to you guys?”

“Nothing, it is our honour to help the Slayer. Please return to us soon.” Groo took her hand and placed a kiss on it, ignoring Spike’s possessive growl.

Wesley reached over and shook Spike’s hand. “Keep them safe, please.”

“Will do, ready pet?” Spike sauntered over to Buffy and tapped her on the shoulder. “Come on, let the whelp go!”

Buffy reluctantly released Xander from a big bear hug. “If I can, I’ll bring both of them back, I swear!”

“I know you will, cos if anyone can do it the Buffster can. Be safe, okay?” Xander gazed worriedly at the small blonde girl. Without taking his eyes of her, he spoke to Spike. “Keep them both safe, fangless. Okay?”

“I will, whelp,” Spike vowed. He turned to Tara who was hugging Anya goodbye. “Come on, Columba, it’s time to go, luv.”

Tara slipped over and stood by the black-clad vampire, Buffy joined them.

“Okay. This is it, be careful okay?” she ordered.

Spike opened the car door and ushered Tara in. Before Buffy got into the car, she turned to Wesley and Groo. “Keep our kittens safe.”

“We will,” Wesley promised.

Spike slid over the hood of the car and got in. Gunning the engine, he peeled away from the curb. Buffy and Tara waved goodbye to the four figures on the curb until the car turned the corner and headed for the freeway.

“So, did you call the Poof?” Spike pulled the car onto the freeway. He reached out and flipped off a trucker who was honking angrily at him for cutting him off.

Buffy bit her lips and gazed out of the window. She watched the landscape flash past at an amazing speed. The small blonde ran her fingers over the clean glass. It had taken them a few minutes and a lot of elbow grease to get the paint off. She wasn’t used to being able to see what a kamikaze driver Spike was. Behind her, Tara gasped at another near miss and grabbed hold of the back of the seat to anchor herself.

“Luv?” Spike glanced over at her.

“Eyes on the road, lover!” Buffy yelped.

“What? Oh sorry…” Spike pulled the car of the grass verge and floored it.

“I called but the machine picked up. I left a message.” She reached into her purse and pulled out her new phone and began to dial. Flipping it shut, she groaned. “I hate answering machines!”

“Not there?” Tara leant over the seat.

“Weird that? Seeing as Peaches lives in…” Spike frowned at the road ahead wondering what the hell would be waiting for them in LA.

“Spike, I really need to pee!” Buffy whined.

“Me too,” Tara added shyly.

“Women!” Spike moaned as he span the car off the next exit. He headed for the Dairy Queen and pulled the Desoto to a stop. “There you go, my ladies! Would madam like any ice cream?” he asked sarcastically.

Buffy shot out of the car followed closely by Tara. They vanished into the Dairy Queen, Spike following at a leisurely pace. “Vanilla frozen yoghurt, please! Tara?”

“Um, chocolate ice cream in a cone,” The Wiccan yelled as she disappeared into the restrooms.

“As you wish,” Spike grumbled, as he headed for the counter.

By the time the girls scrambled into the car, Spike was halfway through his coffee and juggling two rapidly melting cones.

“Eat up, girls, and no more water. We’re not making anymore stops!” Spike propped his half empty cup on the dashboard and rejoined the traffic. “What is it with birds and butterfly bladders?” he complained.

“Spike, you also forgot to complain about girls going in twos to the bathroom!” Tara teased, as she licked her way around the cone.

“Naaa, worked that one out a few years back.” Spike grinned at Tara and then flicked his eyes back to the road.

Buffy sat forward. “So spill. What’s your theory?”

“Nope, not telling, gorgeous,” Spike drawled.

“Fine, next time you’ve got bed head I won’t tell either.” Buffy pouted.

“Finally!” Buffy groaned as Spike pulled up outside the Hyperion.

Tara looked out of the window and gasped. “Angel lives here?”

Spike looked over at the imposing edifice. “Yeah, he’s always been one for a big show. All hat and no… well you know.” He shot out of the car and ran around to the other side to open their doors. He pulled Buffy out and then held a hand out for Tara to take.

“William!” Buffy teased as she trotted to the trunk to pull out her slaying bag.

“Oi, none of that, Anne!” Spike retorted. He cupped Tara under the elbow and led her into the courtyard.

Tara paused by the fountain and ran her fingers over the water. “It’s very beautiful here.”

“Yeah, come pet.” Spike squinted up at the sky, his skin was tightening. ‘Wonder if I’ll freckle?’

“Hello?” Buffy stepped into the hotel. “Anyone here?”

Spike and Tara stood behind her. The Wiccan looked around the foyer in awe. “It’s really lovely here. But there is something, I can’t pinpoint…” she trailed off at the sight of a green faced demon sauntering down the stairs, humming. “What’s that?”

“That’s Lorne,” Spike explained. “Oi, where’s your boss, gorgeous?”

“Hey, cream cake, you’re back and you brought another pretty girl with you.” Lorne came over and pecked Buffy on the cheek. He reached over and took Tara’s hands in his. “Aren’t you a peach?” Lorne paused and then peered closely at all of them. “Hey what’s with the green eyes, kids?”

Spike flopped down onto a sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table. “Long story, mate. How’s about you get the Slayer to hum you a tune?”

Lorne glanced over at the blond vampire, startled. “Hey! How did you know?”

“Been to your club a few years back. Must say, the sight of a bunch of Fyarls singing ‘What’s Love Got to do With It’ was hysterical!” Spike lit a cigarette and puffed away happily. He hadn’t smoked in the car out of deference to Tara.

“You went to Caritas?” Lorne asked.

“Yeah, on my way back from Mexico,” Spike explained. He flicked ash onto the marble floor and gestured to the centre of the foyer. “See you got rid of the finger painting.”

“Uh, yeah, we did. Well, Connor and Angel did, because manual labour is not really my bag.” Lorne laughed. He looked over at Buffy who was pacing anxiously by the reception desk. “Hey, sweet cheeks, what’s wrong?” Concern coloured his kind eyes.

Buffy looked up at the green-skinned demon. “Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…” she trailed off at the sad expression on Lorne’s face.

“Oh, cotton candy…” He reached over and pulled her into a hug.

“Well, did you see anything?” Spike demanded.

Lorne looked over his shoulder at Spike and Tara, who was now sitting on the couch with her legs, folded Indian style. He nodded. “Yeah, but the end was a bit weird, water and opium…” he trailed off.

“Water and opium?” Spike frowned. “Tell that’s a boatload of nothin.”

“Sorry.” Lorne smiled sheepishly then turned back to Buffy. “Oh honey, I’m sorry about the key lime pie.”

Buffy frowned at Lorne. “Huh?”

“Nibblet,” Spike explained.

“Oh…” Buffy’s eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, none of that, my petite choux.” Lorne wiped her tears with a purple, silk handkerchief. “It’ll be an epic journey, but you have your friends here to help.”

Spike stood abruptly and pulled Buffy into his arms. He pressed his lips to her forehead and kissed her gently. “Anymore info, mate?”

Lorne paused for a moment. “Nope, sorry…” He grinned sheepishly.

Spike nodded his thanks. “So, where’s Peaches?”

“Not too sure, he went to, uh…” Lorne glanced at Buffy. “Well, to meet with Cordelia last night for some private time and, well…” the green horned demon trailed off, he was unsure how much Angel would want revealed about his budding relationship with the seer.

Spike frowned. “Wot? He and the cheerleader found a way round the curse?”

“Weeeell…” Lorne hesitated.

Buffy pulled out of Spike’s embrace. “What!” She began to pace. “Jesus, what if they got pelvic?” She stopped in her tracks, confused at her lack of worry over her ex and Cordelia together. Her only worry was the possible consequences of Angel making love. Buffy looked over at Spike and smiled. “Wow, how weird it is that I’m not upset over the idea of him and Cordy?”

Spike relaxed at her words and soft smile. He had tensed immediately, worried about how the Slayer would react. Then he frowned. ‘Christ Peaches’ elastic soul!’ Before he could say anything, Tara rejoined them. She placed a tentative hand on his elbow. “Shouldn’t we be worried about Angel losing his soul?” Voicing the blond vampire’s own thoughts.

She had heard the stories of how Angel’s moment of pure happiness with Buffy had resulted in disaster. ‘If Buffy’s right, Angel and Cordelia could’ve made love. That could only lead to one thing!’ Tara worriedly looked over at Buffy. From the expression on Buffy’s face, she had jumped to the same terrifying conclusion.

Lorne, twitched. “Jeepers, the thought never crossed my mind.” He shot around the desk and hit speed dial. The anagogic demon tapped a well-manicured hand impatiently as he waited. Eventually, Lorne hung up. “Angel’s not answering. Okay, now I am worried!”

“Where’s Connor?” Buffy hesitantly asked.

“In his room?” Lorne suggested.

“Have you even checked on the lad?” Spike snarled angrily. Turning on his heel, he shot up the stairs, followed closely by the others.

“Hey, how did you know where Connor’s room was?” Lorne panted, once he finally caught up with the Sunnydale visitors.

“Vampire, mate.” Spike tapped his nose with one black tipped finger. Scanning the sparsely furnished room, he frowned. “Bed’s not been slept in.” He whirled to face Lorne. “Also, Peaches too tight to buy the kid anything?”

Lorne shuffled his feet. “We haven’t really had much time, though…” The demon scanned the room, noting the complete lack of possessions. “… well Cordelia did take him shopping a few times.”

Tara pulled open the closet and scanned the sparse amount of clothes. “What for?”

Lorne shrugged.

Buffy stepped in front of Lorne. “Not the point right now. Lorne, think, when did you see Connor last?”

“Why?” the Pylean asked.

“Cos you nit, Angelus always goes after his family first!” Spike bellowed.

“And those who connected him to the human world,” Buffy added. “Uh, where’re the other two?”

“Gunn and Fred?” Lorne supplied. He frowned. “Aren’t you all jumping to the worst conclusion? We don’t have any solid proof that Angelus is back.”

Spike rolled his eyes at the naivety of the green demon. “Come on, mate, use your noggin. He and the cheerleader, what did you call it? Private time. I’m sure they were only playing checkers!”

“Angel and Cordy both know that it would be foolish to do anything,” Lorne replied angrily.

“Yeah, I’m sure hormones and the whole ‘I’m in lurve’ thing would be the brakes on!” Spike snarked at the demon. “Christ, Peaches has hadn’t had any… well, since Darla.” He turned to Buffy. “Sorry, luv…”

 Buffy shrugged. “s’okay. It’s why I love you, Spike, you cut straight to the heart of the matter.”

Tara hesitantly stepped forward. “Lorne, we’ve got to consider the possibility.”

Lorne sighed loudly. “So, what do we do?”

“Find him, you git!” Spike yelled in frustration. “Where the bloody hell is your crack team of detectives, or should I say defectives?”

Buffy whistled loudly. “Hey! Stop with the yelling, you guys, it’s not helping!” She turned to Lorne. “Maybe you should go get Fred and Gunn?”

Before Lorne could turn to leave, Spike bellowed for the two missing AI members.

“Right here, what’s with the yelling?” Gunn and Fred stepped into the room. Both had obviously just leapt out of bed. Fred was tying her dressing gown shut. “Hey, back already? Man, you guys just left.” Gunn waved hello to Spike and Buffy. “And someone new…”

“I’m Tara, friend of Buffy and Spike’s.” the Wiccan stepped forward and shook Gunn’s hand and waved shyly at Fred.

“Hey, you guys seen Angel, Cordy or Connor recently?”

Fred and Gunn shook their heads. Before they could say anything, there was a crash of doors from the foyer.

“Help…”

Spike vaulted from the balcony and landed with a flourish in the reception area. Buffy and the others clattered down the stairs. All of them screeched to a halt at the sight of Connor collapsed in Spike’s arms.  

“Oh my,” Fred gasped.

Connor was unconscious. He was beaten black and blue, and there was blood pouring from a deep wound on his shoulder.

“Jesus.” Gunn squatted down next to Spike and hesitantly reached out a hand. He pressed it hard against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.

“Here.” Lorne pushed a first aid kit into Gunn’s free hand. “We need to get him to his room.”

“On it,” Spike muttered as he carefully stood, cradling the limp form to his chest. He caught Buffy’s worried eyes and tried to smile. “It’ll be okay, luv,” he promised, aware that Buffy was terrified that Angelus had returned. Connor’s battered body presented irrefutable proof that there was something wrong.

She tried to smile, but failed. Turning to Tara he asked, “Can you do a dis-invite spell?”

“I don’t have the text…” Tara trailed off. She shrugged helplessly.

“Oh hey, I can help with that.” Lorne ran over to Cordelia’s desk and began to type. He clicked through the saved documents. “Here.” The printer hummed to life and spewed out a page.

Tara took the printout and scanned the spell carefully. “I can do this.”

Buffy frowned. “How come…” Before she could complete her sentence, Lorne interrupted.

“Cordy, said it was better to be prepared.”

“Good. Columba, get on it with the Bonanza boy here.” Spike took the stairs two at a time, followed by Buffy and Fred.

Gunn stood helplessly watching Tara and Lorne preparing the dis-invite spell. “Can I help?”

Tara glanced up at the tall man and smiled gently. She was aware that Angel’s friends were probably in shock at the sight of Connor’s wounds. “Sure, can you start nailing crosses to the door lintels and maybe find some sage for me to use to cleanse the hotel?”

Gunn nodded and disappeared into the office.

“So do you think we need to go through every room?” Lorne asked. “Cos if we do, it’s gonna take a dogs age!”

Tara frowned at the text. “No, I think if I change it here and here.” She made some notations on the paper. “Yes, that’ll work.”

“What about Spike?” Gunn asked, when he reappeared with a handful of crosses, he pushed some sage bundles onto the counter.

“Spike?” Lorne frowned.

“Yeah, won’t he be dis-invited?” Gunn asked.

“No, it’s a specific spell to keep out a particular vampire, we just need to name Angelus and presto, barrier!” Lorne explained.

“Fred, Right?” Spike looked up at the distraught girl.

“Uh huh.” The Texan nodded.

“Can you get us some water and clean towels?” the vampire asked gently.

“Sure, anything else?” Fred disappeared into the bathroom.

“Needle and thread, as well, pet.” Spike turned back to Connor’s limp form.

The teen lay on his bed. Buffy was carefully pulling his boots off. “I think the clothes are a write off.” She frowned down at Connor’s bloodied form. “I can’t believe he would do this to his own son…”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Course Angelus would do this and worse, if he could.” He walked over to Buffy and gently patted her on the shoulder. “Now love, come on, let’s get the lad sorted.”

Buffy tore Connor’s shirt up the front to reveal a bruised torso, she tried not to gasp, aware that Spike was watching her closely. The blonde ran her thin hands gently over Connor’s ribs. “I think there are three broken and one cracked.” She slid her hand under Connor’s neck and gently pulled him against her. Spike quickly pulled the tattered remains of the shirt off the boy. He growled angrily at the sight of the massive bruise covering Connor’s lower back.

“Luv, I think we may need Glinda’s mojo here,” he suggested. Spike gently took Connor’s shoulders and tried to ease him from Buffy’s embrace. “Pet, let go, please,” he begged.

Buffy grudgingly loosened her firm grasp and dashed the tears from her face. “Poor boy.”

“Poor Angelus, if Peaches gets in here.” Spike retorted. “I will gut him and then stuff his entrails down his throat. Sick bastard.”

Fred gagged at the colourful visual, she handed the bowl and towels to Buffy. “I’ll go find a needle and thread.” Her hand fluttered over Connor’s hair for a second before she ran out sobbing. “I can’t believe Angel could do this..,” her voice faded away as the thin girl ran down the corridor. The sound of her sobs echoed back into the room.

Spike and Buffy carefully cleaned the wound on Connor’s shoulder. Buffy steadied Connor awkwardly whilst Spike wrapped his torso in strips of torn sheet. “That’ll do until Glinda gets here.”

Fred reappeared with Gunn. “Here…” She thrust a sewing kit at Spike before stepping back into Gunn’s arms.

“Poor damn kid,” Gunn muttered into Fred’s hair. Neither could take their eyes off the three figures on the bed.

Buffy dipped the thread into some disinfectant, while Spike sterilized a needle with his Zippo. He handed it to Buffy and she began to efficiently stitch the shoulder wound shut, while Spike pressed the edges together.

“Oh my…” Fred ran to the bathroom and began to throw up. Gunn followed after her.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Lightweights…”

Before Buffy could retort, there was a surge of magic through the room.

“Guess Glinda’s done.” Spike asked. “Oi, you two, go get Tara and bring her here.”

“I’m here, Spike. Oh, goddess…” Tara clapped a hand over her mouth at the sight of Connor’s beaten form.

“Can you do anything, Columba?” Spike asked hopefully.

“Let me try,” Tara whispered. She came over and knelt on the floor next to the bed.

Lorne appeared in the doorway carrying a smouldering bundle of sage. “Connor? My God…” He shot over to sit on the floor next to the bed.

Tara took both of the unconscious boy’s hands in hers and began to supplicate her goddess. Gradually, the room began to fill with a warm golden light. Her eyes shifted to pale silver as she chanted. Connor’s bruises began to disappear gradually. Tara slumped forward, her head rested on the blood stained cover. Buffy and Spike pulled her into their arms and checked her ashen face.

“I, o…okay,” Tara stuttered. Her eyes fell closed. “Just tired.”

“You rest, pet, Spike’s got you.” He smoothed her fair hair off her face and tucked her head under his chin. Buffy patted him on the shoulder before standing and heading to Connor.

He opened his eyes briefly and caught her worried gaze. “Angel…” he whispered before passing out.

Everyone gasped. His single word had confirmed their worst suspicions.

Xander sat on the porch and stared at his hands. He squinted into the sun and then looked down at his feet.

“Can I join you?” Wes sat down next to the troubled Scoobie.

Xander shrugged. “It’s a free country.”

Wesley eyed the pensive man next to him. “Are you okay?”

Xander glanced over at the former watcher. “No,” he answered tersely.

Wesley sat quietly waiting for him to continue.

“I made a mess of everything.” Xander rubbed his face with his hands.

“A mess?” Wesley asked.

“Yeah, I shoulda stopped Willow. I shoulda seen that she was in trouble. And Buffy...” Xander sighed angrily. “I was too worried about the wedding and decorations to see that my best friends were self - destructing in front of me.

Wesley sighed. “Xander, while I believe you are right about Willow’s predicament, I feel that Buffy is more than okay. She’s a far happier young lady than the one I met when I was assigned as her Watcher.” He hesitantly put a hand on Xander’s shoulder. He gripped it firmly, not allowing the Scoobie to shrug his touch away.

Xander shook his head. “No, there is something wrong, there is no way she would let that freak touch her, unless she was…” he trailed off when Wes’s words registered with him.

“She was what?” Wesley asked.

“Buffy’s happy?” Xander ignored Wesley’s last question. He turned to look at the scarred man who sat next to him. “Really happy?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, she is.” Wesley replied. “Look, I know he isn’t probably your first choice of a partner for Buffy, but…”

Xander snorted. “Not even my last choice.”

“Yes, well…” Wesley patted Xander’s shoulder clumsily and then folded his arms. “I would hate to see the two of you drifting apart over your issues with Spike. Maybe while they are travelling to New York, it will give you an opportunity to get used to the idea. Because I don’t see Spike going anywhere.”

“Yeah, he’s like the cat, he always comes back.” Xander leant his forearms on his knees. “He really loves her?”

“Yes, and she does love him.”

“That’s good.” Xander sighed.

Wesley blinked at Xander’s sudden about face. “Pardon?” 

“Well, one thing you have to say about Spike is, when he loves someone, he really does,” Xander explained.

“How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Wesley asked curiously.

“Look at how he adored Drusilla.”

“I never observed the two of them together. I only met Spike a few days ago. However, from the texts I researched and a friend of mine’s thesis, I would have to agree with you.” Wesley glanced hesitantly over at Xander. “So, do you think that maybe…”

“Maybe. But it’ll take some getting used to.” Xander stood. “You want a beer? I think Buffy kept some in the fridge for me.”

“Sure.” Wesley stood and followed Xander back into the house.   

Xander took a pull on his bottle. “So about Willow?”

“Yes?” Wesley sat at the breakfast bar. He waited patiently for the troubled boy to talk, aware that whatever Willow had done to him at the hospital was on his mind.

Xander hesitated for a second. “She…she…” He looked away and took a deep breath. “She got into my head, and it felt…”

“Like rape?” Wesley suggested.

 Xander nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t understand why Wills would do that to me.”

“I imagine that right and wrong are concepts beyond her comprehension at the moment. She is too lost in her power.”

“I can’t figure out why.” Xander sipped his warming beer.

“Neither can I.” Wesley sighed. “There is the possibility that she has been influenced,” he hypothesised.

“I mean, we really haven’t investigated this Rack person.”

Xander nodded. “Maybe it’s something he did?” he asked hopefully. “I know there is much straw grasping by me, but she’s my oldest friend, I can’t believe Willow would do all this… let them touch her.”

“Them?” Wesley interrupted.

Xander flinched. “Yeah, in the hospital she said something about how they made her feel something.”

“Interesting. But extremely disturbing.” Wesley tapped a finger to the bridge of his nose.

“Disturbing is the polite way of putting it. I was going for ‘time to change my pants’ and not in a good way!” Xander took a long pull of his beer, trying to get rid of the taste of bile in his mouth. Inspiration struck him. “Hey, maybe the coins that we found belong to Willow’s new playmate?”

Wesley nodded. “A sound idea. We really have to find out more about them.” He looked over at Xander. “I have to commend you on your discretion.”

“Huh? Discretion?”

“Yes, in not revealing the possibility that Willow is sexually involved with two men,” Wesley replied.

“Well, I didn’t want to hurt Tara anymore than she has been.” Xander smiled sheepishly.

The front door slammed shut. Both jumped.

“We found something,” Anya gasped. Groo followed her in, carrying a large book.

Wesley rose to his feet. “What?”

“Here.” Groo thrust the book into the Watcher’s eager hands.

Anya reached over and began to flick through the pages. “I never thought to look anything up in here, I mean it’s Giles’s old book on vampires.”

 “That the one he was always trying to get Buffy to read?” Xander shuffled over and peered at the ancient tome. “Well, what did you find?”

“Wasn’t me, it was Groo.” Anya patted the grinning Pylean on the shoulder.

“I was researching Vampiric practises. Spike suggested that an older vampire was burying his newly turned minions in that cemetery.” Groo took a breath. “Well, I wondered if this practise was common. So I began to read this excellent tome, and there it was!”

“What?” Xander asked impatiently. He bounced to the balls of his feet trying to look over Anya and Wesley’s heads. 

“This engraving.” Groo pointed to the now familiar coin.

“Oh! This is excellent.” Wesley grinned at the Pylean. “Progress finally.”

“Spill already,” Xander demanded impatiently.

“Sorry.” Wesley began to read. He glanced up at Groo. “This is fascinating. It appears that a vampire during the Crusades was cornered by a group of the Knights of St. John and vanished in a flash of light, leaving only a broken coin in his wake.”

Anya tugged the book from his arms. “Here, let me. One of the knights wrote down the invocation the vampire chanted. Here it is!” She pointed to the crabbed text.

I humbly beseech you to grant your follower a boon.

With my blood I make an offering.

With my soul I make the pledge.

With the blood of an innocent I bind myself to your whim.

“Soul? But vampires don’t have souls. Well, except for Angel. It wasn’t him was it? Cos if it was, then he’s been a very naughty vampire lying about his age.” Xander peered at the text.

“Vampires do have souls,” Anya muttered distractedly. She looked up at three shocked faces. “What?”

“Vampires have souls?” Xander gasped.

“That’s nonsense!” Wesley exclaimed.

Groo nodded in agreement with him.

Anya rolled her eyes at the three of them. “Not a soul as you Watchers know, a demonic soul. Honestly, what are you taught at Watcher’s school?”

“That vampires are evil and soulless?” Wesley offered. Xander and Groo nodded in agreement.

“Well, I agree most of them are evil. Except for Spike, he’s different.” Anya hesitated, a frown marring her forehead. “Wonder why?”

“Ahn, honey, not the time to try and work out Fangless’s psyche. What do you mean demonic soul?” Xander asked impatiently.

“Oh right, well, when the mortal is drained and then turned, their human soul is gone. But something inhabits the body…”

“The demon?” Groo interrupted.

“Yes, but it does have a soul, a corrupted one but there’s something there.” Anya stamped her foot. “It’s hard to explain, demons have something that could be called a soul.” She turned to Wesley. “Of all of you, I would have thought you would have read Einhart’s thesis, he covers all this more coherently than I am trying too.”

“Einhart?” Wesley frowned. “Doesn’t ring any bells.”

Anya sighed. “I bet it doesn’t…” She growled angrily. “I just bet that the Council destroyed all the copies they could get their hands on. Can’t have something so sensitive available. They really are corrupt. I mean, if a Slayer read his ideas she may not be so malleable. And we all know that the Council wants to control their girls as much as possible. I just bet that Buffy must drive them nuts…”

“Ahn, breath, honey.” Xander eyed her worriedly.

“Sorry, I just get so mad sometimes!” Anya looked up at Wesley and smiled hesitantly. “Not you, of course! You’re nice.”

Wesley cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Er, thank you. About this thesis, do you have a copy? I would be very interested in reading it.”

Anya shook her head. “No, sorry.” Wesley’s disappointment was palpable.  She smiled reassuringly. “Not in this dimension. I’ll get Hoffie to send his, he’ll delighted to hear that there is at least one open-minded Watcher!”

“He must be wrong, Angel wouldn’t have done this to his son!” Fred exclaimed anxiously. She refused to believe that her saviour would ever harm anyone he cared about.

Spike lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. He exhaled smoke through his nostrils. The vampire pulled Buffy close and rested his cheek against her fair hair. “Listen, luv, you’ve no idea what the poof is capable of.” Buffy nodded solemnly.

“There is no way that Angel-cakes would harm a hair on his kid’s head,” Lorne argued.

Gunn rolled his eyes at both of them. “Listen to me, if these guys are right, then the Angel we know is long gone.”

“Too right, mate.” Spike nodded in agreement with the tall dark man. “Listen to me, all of you. Angelus is a very different animal. He is ruthless, twisted and, above all, a thug. None of you is safe from him. There’ll be no confrontations unless me or the Slayer here are with you. She’s the only person I know who has survived his mind games, fought him and won.”

“So how come you think you can take him?” Lorne asked sceptically.

“Cos, mate, I hate Angelus, and I’ll do anything to keep her safe.” He squeezed Buffy tight against his body. Aware that the idea of Angelus returning was more than enough to send her into a spiral, let alone being presented with the sickening the reality of Angelus.

“Look, you guys, we have to get ready, he’ll come back here and once Angelus realises that the hotel is sealed against him, there will be trouble. We need weapons, crosses, Holy water and any good crossbows.” Buffy ticked off the list on one hand. “Tara, can you stay with Connor? I need to know he’s safe.”

The quiet witch nodded, shifted closer to Connor and gently wiped a cool cloth over his forehead. “One of us needs to call the airlines and postpone our flight to New York.”

“New York?” Lorne raised a questioning brow. “Why were you going there?”

“To pick up a friend. Guess that reading was a bit vague, huh?” Spike answered quickly, unwilling to share recent events with the AI team.

“What reading?” Lorne frowned, he felt a faint tickling at the edges of his memory and then it was gone.

Buffy frowned up at Spike. He shook his head quickly. “Um, yeah, Willow needs some help getting back here…” she trailed off. She realised that whatever Lorne had read was long gone, a symptom of Willow’s magicks and Dawn’s disappearance. The Pylean hadn’t been present when Dawn had disappeared so his memory was altered as soon as he finished his reading earlier.

“Willow, is she okay?” Fred asked worriedly. She remembered the redheaded Wiccan from her last visit to LA.

Tara bit her lip. “She…she’s…”

“Fine,” Spike interrupted. “Doing some research in the Big Apple, is all. I figured it’d be a treat for the Slayer to go out there.”

“Oh…” Fred nodded, realising it was the end of the conversation. “So Holy Water, I don’t think we have any here, should we go get some?”

Gunn squinted out the window. “I think we can get to a church and back before sunset.” He turned to Fred. “Come on, Texas.” The couple disappeared out of Connor’s room.

“I’ll go check through the weapons cupboard,” Lorne commented as he left.

Buffy turned in Spike’s arms. “Why didn’t you tell them why we’re going to New York?”

Spike caught her pouting bottom lip with his teeth, and then kissed her deeply. Pulling away reluctantly, he gently brushed her lips with his. “I don’t want any of them getting caught by Peaches and being tortured. If he hears that a powerful witch like Red is on the loose, he’d be on the next red-eye out of LAX. You know that Angelus would get a kick outta using Red against her friends and the state she’s in right now, there’s no way she would say no to the big git!” He looked over at Tara and frowned. “Sorry pet.”

“No, you’re right.” Tara took a deep breath to steady herself. “She…she’s capable of anything right now.” She turned back to Connor and busied herself straightening his covers.

“Oh, Tara, I’m so sorry…” Buffy whispered.

Lorne re-appeared in the doorway. “Um, guys I think we’ve got another problem.”

“What?” Spike groaned.

“There’s a message on the answering machine from the LAPD, they’ve found Cordy’s jeep abandoned on the freeway…” Lorne trailed off, his eyes filled with worry.

“Do what?” Spike began to pace. “That makes no sense at all, I figured that Angelus woulda done the cheerleader at her place.”

Buffy’s hand clutched his arm urgently. “Maybe she got away from him. Cos Cordy has all those powers. Maybe she was trying to get here to warn them?”

“Could’ve been.” Spike turned to the green demon. “They leave a number to call back?” Lorne nodded. “Good, call ‘em and get the low down.”

“I already have!” Lorne sniped.

“She might be alive!” Buffy breathed hopefully.

“Don’t get your hopes up, love, there’s no reason to think that. Just doesn’t make sense that she’d get out on the freeway. Something could’ve grabbed her…” he trailed off at the sudden pallor on Buffy’s face. He quickly backtracked. “We’ll have to see what the coppers say. Sorry, luv.”

“The cops said they saw no evidence of a struggle, the door was open, the keys still in the ignition and her purse untouched on the seat,” Lorne explained. “They have no idea what went on…”

Tara stood. “Look, we need to focus on one problem at a time, Angel, no Angelus is a big threat. Look what he did to his son.” She gestured to the sleeping Connor. “Cordelia, well, maybe he has her and maybe not, but we really need to ensure that Angelus doesn’t come after anyone here.”

“Tara, do you think you could try and restore his soul?” Buffy asked apprehensively. Spike stood next to her gazing worriedly at Tara.

“I…I really don’t know. I never studied the spell,” Tara stammered worriedly.

“Also, we don’t have the bloody text,” Spike snarled angrily.

“He has his soul. I just don’t know if they’ve killed him,” Connor’s weak voice interrupted.