Title: Another Day - Chapter 10 of How Many Days
Disclaimer: Joss doesn't play with his toys anymore. Someone has to, dammit!
Rating: R
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Other, Willow/Giles, Willow/Other
Summary: Post-Season 7. This is a sequel to 'Don't Stop the Dance'
Distribution: Anywhere you like, just let me know.
Feedback: is welcome. ~Xionin (xionin@beautiful-freak.com)
Thank you: Maribel and Pam: the most amazing betas in any universe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's hard to tell the poison from the cure
Harder still to know the reason why
The only thing I really know for sure
Is that another day's gone by -Sting
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d always wondered what it would be like when he finally got to hold her fragile and sleeping form in his arms for the first time. What he’d imagined was certainly nothing like this. He’d never pictured the mind-numbing fear that could accompany something so...sublime as cradling his beautiful Dawn as she slept.

Colin runs his fingers through the length of her hair spilling over his arm. So silky, shiny and perfect – just like she is to him. He watches the rise and fall of her chest with her even breathing. She looks as if she is in a simple and peaceful repose, but he knows better. Willow had hinted at the war raging inside her. Of the other being that could be inhabiting part of her. This ‘Spike’ person...no, not a person. A vampire.

A vampire with a soul.

Willow had been briefly unconscious after the convulsions ceased, and when she came to she spoke frantically; first to Giles, then on the phone with the women of the Coven, and finally to Colin.

Giles had replaced his couch-side vigil as Dawn’s guardian while he stepped away to speak with the powerful witch. The Goddess. Although he’s spent a lot of time around her, she still unnerves him greatly. Something about having that much power at her fingertips...it seems unnatural, to him.

And then she’d told him. Everything. Not in words, because there wasn’t time, worse yet she’d showed him and oh god. Oh. God. He’d begun to tremble. With anger. With fear. With a paralyzing sense of uselessness, as there was nothing he could do but ‘be there for her.’

But it all made some sort of sick sense. The eyes, the strange lapses into British colloquialisms, all of it fit together in his mind to form a grotesque tapestry of the horror that must be her life. His lovely girl.

He despises this ‘Spike’, no matter how noble he’d become. It’s an irrational feeling towards someone that saved the world, but it’s there nonetheless. Colin could never feel otherwise towards someone that’s caused Dawn so much pain; however inadvertently.

He leans forward and places a feathery kiss on her forehead, whispering in soothing tones even as she grimaces in a fitful sleep.

“Sweet, sweet girl. I’ll not let anyone harm you. We’ll get through this, you and me. I promise.” He leans against the back of the couch, cradling her in his arms, and waits. For something...anything...to bring her back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richard sits perfectly still as Giles recounts the events of the past eighteen hours. The younger man’s pacing back and forth around the small study in the telling of the, rather startling, tale has lulled him into stupor. He simply cannot fathom it.

“I just...I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Richard. We were all here to witness it.” Giles removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. Having been on his feet for nearly two days, the exhaustion is taking its toll. Couple that with the emotional strain of the day, and it is all he can do not to collapse in a heap on the floor. “The candelabra was a conduit...a-a vessel in which the thing lived and through which it traveled, when the candles were lit.”

“But a liderc. Here. Now, in these times. It’s...”

“I know.” Giles’ voice cracks from fatigue. He slumps into a leather armchair, fortuitously close to a decanter of scotch. He absentmindedly chooses a glass and fills it; his limbs moving on auto-pilot. He takes three full swallows before English manners get the better of him and he offers some to Ostriak.

“No...Thank you.” Richard still cannot wrap his mind around this unfortunate turn of events.

He’d procured the silver candelabra, as a gift for the Slayer, in order to demonstrate his goodwill towards her. Not that he thought he’d be able to buy into her good graces, but having his present turn into such an instrument of horror - well, it isn’t going to help him get any closer to her. If anything, she and hers will be ever more cautious of his motives, and he really doesn’t want that.

“I assure you, Rupert, I had no idea at all that this...that the...” He spreads his hands at his loss of words.

“No, no of course not, Richard. We know that, old friend. It was...an unfortunate accident. No one thinks anything ill of you.” Giles offers a thin and weary smile. Richard exhales a breath of silent relief.

“Is...is there anything I can do? To assist?” Giles takes another sip of the calming liquid.

“Er, no. We have the more pressing matter of Dawn at hand, but we’ll do some...some research...” He yawns.

“Dear fellow, you’re done in. You need to rest.”

“Yes, I am rather...but I cannot. Not while Dawn is...” He groans in frustration. Turning to face Richard, the anguish in his slate blue eyes is unmistakable. “Whatever am I to do, Richard? That girl...those girls...Buffy...Dawn...I couldn’t bear to lose either of them. Why wasn’t I paying attention to what was happening? Why didn’t I see the downward spiral?”

He runs his hand roughly through his hair.

“She’s become so thin, so removed – Buffy has – and I said nothing. Nothing. And Dawn’s...spells...they haven’t disappeared, only lessened in their frequency. Why did I think that was enough?” He stands, slamming the tumbler down on the table in his anger. “What have I been bloody doing all this bloody time, while my children disintegrate right before me?”

Richard is stunned. His ‘children’? He’d had no idea Rupert felt so strongly about the Summers’ girls; no inkling of the paternal bond he seems to have with them. Observing him with Buffy, he’d noted a particularly strained relationship. He had seen nothing that would suggest this level of emotional involvement; had observed nothing more than genuine Watcher-pride in her accomplishments and the typical student/teacher tension whenever they worked together. Nothing ever suggested he’d harbored deeper feelings for his charge and her sister.

The sister. Now there is an interesting puzzle-piece indeed. No slayer in recorded history has ever had siblings, so why this one? The more he’s thought about it, the more he’s wanted to ask Rupert about that little tidbit. Something about the whole scenario isn’t quite right. But short of reading Giles’ journals, which are kept in his personal rooms, the only other way to get the information he seeks is by asking the source.

“I lost her once.” His voice is so soft, that Richard has to lean forward to hear him. Giles slides back down into the chair defeated.

Now doesn’t seem an opportune time for his queries.

“I didn’t know.”

Giles looks up at Richard as if seeing him for the first time. He’d forgotten he was there, but he continues, almost grateful for an audience to his pain and regret.

“A few years ago...she-” He winces with the ache of the memory of watching her broken body lying on a pile of rubble. Waiting...hoping for any sign of life, his stunned grief flashed to a burning hatred the moment he’d laid his eyes on Dawn emerging from the scaffolding; alive while his girl was dead. That hatred dissipated into remorse as he watched her eyes land on her sister’s form. In that moment he knew that her loss was the greater one and he understood why Buffy had chosen to make the sacrifice.

Richard waits patiently for Giles to come back to himself. He does know all about Buffy’s...death; as well as her resurrection. Of course, when he’d finally met Willow, he understood that the power that it took to bring the Slayer back had been in the witch’s tiny hands.

Such tiny, insignificant girls with all the power in the world between them.

“I know...that every Watcher feels it is inevitable, but...Buffy had thwarted death so many, many times, that I thought – in my arrogance –”

“You thought she’d live forever?”

Giles smiles sadly, rubbing his temples before wiping his hands across his face. “Yes.” He looks at his old friend. “Silly, I know. Pointless...but then she was back.” His thoughts wander again.

“Oh hello, Willow. It’s nice to hear from you. Everything alright?”

“Giles, I have some...s-some news...”

“She was back and God, Richard; I tell you when I first saw her. I realized that I would do anything to keep her from harm. Anything.”

“I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do. I was willing to...I let so much transpire. I was blind to her pain when she returned and only when it was almost too late did I act...and then, what did I do? I left. Retreated here like a fool and left her to ‘stand on her own two feet’.” He lets out a breath that’s somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

“I’m sure it was for the best, Rupert. I’m sure the girl needed to come to terms with her life as it was.”

“Her life!?” He laughs bitterly. “Her life was in shambles, Richard. I walked out at the worst possible time. If I had been there, maybe she wouldn’t have...” Giles stops, knowing he is about to say too much. He slumps into the chair, the energy of his anger dissolving. “If I had stayed...perhaps she would have made...different choices.”

“Perhaps, Rupert. Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Either way, you cannot change the past. And from what you’re not saying, I gather that, had those ‘choices’ not been made, we may not be sitting here today.” He arches his eyebrow. “Hmmm?”

Giles is dumbstruck. Of course Richard isn’t an idiot; he knows what he’d left out of his mini-tirade.

Spike.

It always seems to come back to him. To him and Buffy, more specifically.

He sighs heavily.

“The only thing I am certain of is that my two girls are suffering; one from loss and the other...the other, I just don’t know how to help her.”

“I think I do.” Willow steps into the room and looks back and forth between the two men before landing her gaze in Giles’. Richard watches the transformation behind Rupert’s eyes. Something passes between Rupert and this extraordinary girl.

This could be very interesting development unto itself, he thinks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel stares at the box.

“Why you? Why did they have it brought to you? And why your place instead of here?” He swivels his gaze to the former Watcher.

“I believe I can answer that, s-sir.” The young man nervously straightens his tie.

“And...you are?”

“Fitzwater, sir. Brendan Fitzwater, Archival Recoveries? I was sent to retrieve the...the artifact and was instructed to deliver it to Mr. Wyndham-Pryce as soon as I’d returned.” He smiles apologetically, but Wesley knows it’s an act.

“Alright, Brendan, what are we supposed to do now?”

“What’d I miss?” Gunn enters Angel’s office followed quickly by Fred who threw a quick glance at Wesley’s curious look that says ‘no, we didn’t come together.’

“Well, Brenton here-“”

“Uh, Brendan. Sir.”

“Uh. Sorry. Brandon here brought us a little gift.” Angel gestures towards the box on his desk.

“What is it? And is it really important enough for us to be here at 6 in the morning?” Fred yawns.

“I...I believe so. Brendan?” Wesley nods and Brendan moves to the box. “Angel, eh, you might want to step away.” Angel raises his eyebrows at the suggestion, but complies. He joins the others on the other side just as the lid pops off.

The room fills with screams and howls. Gunn and Fred cover their ears, but the sound falls away as a column of light forms before them. Images begin to flash in rapid succession; an incredibly fierce battle taking place before their eyes.

“The Hellmouth?” Angel shouts over the din. “What is this?”

“I don’t know!” Wesley yells back. “We didn’t see this before!”

Suddenly, amidst the chaos, the figure of the blonde Slayer appears.

“There’s Buffy!” Angel cries out. Gunn and Fred move closer, absorbed in the spectacle before them.

“It’s...it’s like instant replay.”

The five of them stand immobilized, watching the episode play out before them. When Spike appears, Angel steps forward. He watches as the amulet takes affect, pinning his progeny against the cavern wall. When the beams take down the Uber-vamps, Wesley’s mouth drops open.

“Oh...oh wow! Angel!” Fred exclaims.

“Yeah, I see it.”

“Isn’t that Faith?” Gunn points to the dark-haired slayer.

They watch mesmerized as the scene unfolds. They gasp when Dawn appears out of nowhere and runs towards the blonde vampire, getting trapped in a shaft of light.

“That would explain the thing with her eyes.” Fred says. Wesley nods, unable to look away from the sight before him.

They all look on as Dawn collapses and Faith goes to her side while Buffy runs to help Spike. Angel is glad he cannot hear the conversation between his ex and his boy. Watching Spike in his role as champion is difficult enough, especially knowing the outcome, without listening, no doubt, to their last words of love to one another.

All five of them remain silently riveted until Buffy and Spike clasp hands and the flame erupts.

“Oh...wow. Oh...wow!” Fred’s eyes are rimmed with tears.

“Yeah.” Gunn responds. “Wow, man...Angel, I-.”

“I know.”

The love that passes between the blonde couple blinds them all. Watching Buffy and then Dawn say their goodbyes to Spike, Angel understands, with perfect lucidity, all that he could never have been to her or to them. All that Spike was, in the end.

Up until this moment, he’d often wondered if he had been meant to fill that role: her Champion. He now knows the answer. It’s an unequivocal and resounding ‘no’.

Dawn leads Buffy out of the cavern and the five witnesses watch in horror as Spike burns away. As the last vestiges of his unlife flicker and die, so does the spectacle before them.

They all exhale in relief and amazement.

“Um...whoa.” Gunn takes the nearest chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, it’s one thing to hear them talk about it when they were here, but to see it. I mean...”

“Yeah, it’s...wow. And Buffy, god, to lose him like that. But boy did he go out like a hero.” Fred offers Angel a sympathetic smile. She’s well aware of his conflicting feelings about Spike.

“The senior partners gave the amulet to you though, Angel, I don’t understand for what purpose, but...” Wesley quirks an eyebrow.

“Neither do I, but I’m convinced they got exactly what they wanted out of the deal as far as I am concerned. But I wonder if they meant for Buffy to wear it, not knowing there was another...well, another me out there.”

“Another you?” Fred asks, confused. Angel grumbles.

“Another vampire. With a...with a...”

“Soul. Spike had a soul.” Wesley confirms, rather than asks. Angel offers him a half-nod.

“Wait, Spike had a soul?” Gunn’s voice rises in surprise.

“How?” Fred asks.

“Seems he found...a way to get one.” Angel mumbles.

“Huh?” Gunn looks to Wesley for answers.

“I’m as in the dark as you are, Charles.” He speaks to him without taking his eyes off of Angel, who retreats to the corner of the room. “But we’ll deal with that later, though it certainly explains why he was so instrumental in Buffy’s...army. I do wish she’d been more able to tell us what occurred in the year leading up to...” he gestures towards the dormant amulet. “This.”

“Well, what I want to know is why this thing is here and what we’re supposed to learn from the floorshow.” Gunn is straight-to-the-point as always.

“Indeed.” Wesley turns to Brendan, who has been strangely silent. “What was the significance of bringing this to us now?”

“Sir, all I know is...things are not as they were meant to be. The...the girl, the young one.”

“Dawn?” Angel steps forward.

“Yes, she somehow interfered with...the nature of things and now what was meant to be two is now three.”

“Could you be a bit less vague?” Wesley eyes the man suspiciously.

“Actually, no.” Just as Angel is about to protest, another sound emanates from the amulet causing everyone to jump back.

“Oh, now what.” Gunn grumbles, but his eyes are filled with trepidation.

A figure appears in the air over the box, exactly as it had appeared before in Wesley’s apartment.

“Spike.” Angel whispers.

His face is distorted in a silent scream, his fists clenched at his side. His figure is dazzlingly bright and it looks damned painful. Everyone looks on in horror.

“Oh, what can we do? We’ve got to do something!” Fred turns to Angel, then Wesley, then to the dubious messenger.

The image flickers before winking out, leaving the room with a ‘pop’. Everyone turns and stares at Brendan.

“I wish I had more information for you.” He tilts his head as if listening to something. “But I think what you need is on its way.” With that he smiles and disappears into nothingness.

“What the-”

“Whoa, that was several different shades of freaky.” Gunn steps around the space formally occupied by the messenger. “Angel, what the hell is going on around here?”

“I wish I knew.” Angel moves over to his desk, peering down at the amulet. Fred extends her hands around the space where the man had been.

“It’s really warm. Feel.” Wesley complies.

“Yes. I have a hunch, call me silly, that he isn’t merely an employee at Wolfram and Hart.”

“Gee, y’ think?” Gunn smirks, annoyed at the parlor tricks.

“Well, the senior partners seem pretty happy to keep playing their games but we need answers. This can't wait another day.”

Just as the words leave his mouth, Angel’s intercom buzzes to life.

“Yes?”

“Um, boss? It’s a call from England. It’s Willow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Title: Inside, Part 1- Chapter 11 of How Many Days
Disclaimer: Joss doesn't play with his toys anymore. Someone has to, dammit!
Rating: R
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Other, Willow/Giles, Willow/Other
Summary: Post-Season 7. This is a sequel to 'Don't Stop the Dance'
Distribution: Anywhere you like, just let me know.
Feedback: is welcome. ~Xionin (xionin@beautiful-freak.com)
Thank you: Maribel and Pam: the most amazing betas in any universe.
A/N: I needed to break this chapter up into two parts. I could have made them two separate chapters, but they really are parts of a whole.
The lyrics I've used are from a song called 'Inside' by Sting.
 

Enjoy!
~Xio
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside the doors are sealed to love,
Inside my heart is sleeping...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You got a sec?"

"O-of course."

Giles takes the pen out of his mouth and straightens his glasses as Willow enters the darkened study; the only light provided by the small lamp on the desk. His heart speeds up a bit as she takes the chair across from his; moving as quietly as a moon-kissed cloud.

"Is there...any change?"

"No." Her voice is soft; even softer than normal, when she's consciously controlling it. It's laced with something that Giles can't place. Sorrow, perhaps. "Colin is still with Dawn. We moved her to one of the guest rooms. Buffy is still resting upstairs." She stops mid-thought, but he is loath to interrupt her. "I, uh, just got off the phone with Wesley and Angel; the whole gang, practically, in L.A."

"Oh?" He responds after an embarrassed silence, catching himself staring at her. He's waiting for her to make some eye contact. Until now, she hasn't even looked at him.

Willow is exhausted and not looking forward to the journey that's coming. She can feel, with raw intensity, the pain of her friends; her family. She just wants it to end. She wants it to stop.

She wants to stop it.

It doesn't seem fair, having all of this power and not being able to use it to help the people that she loves.

She sighs. He covers her hand lightly, which she doesn't seem to notice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside the fingers of my glove,
Inside the bones of my right hand...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Willow?"

The tenderness in his voice rouses her from her thoughts. She turns careful, ice blue eyes into his attentive gaze. The way he looks at her now is so unlike before. Since Sunnydale, since her...change...he treats her differently. He's more respectful, more caring. More...like a man and less like a guardian.

Maybe that is the catalyst: her transformation. Giles seems somewhat enthralled with it. She'd thought that it would pass; this latent adoration of her. But it hasn't.

He's hidden it well, of course, and she doubts that anyone else even has a clue. But she does. And it makes her heart ache for what can never, ever be.

And yet...

She smiles and he squints his eyes in curiosity; leaning forward onto the desk. His thumb mindlessly caresses the soft skin on the back of her hand; the effect of it rippling down to her toes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside it's colder than the stars.
Inside the dogs are weeping.
Inside the circus of the winds,
Inside the clocks are filled with sand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn swims just beneath the surface of oblivion. The heavy weight of nothingness feeds the lethargy she feels in her spectral body. Aware of seeming solid, yet without substance, she tries to get her bearings in this plane that is naught but seamless light.

It's a blinding and terrifying thing, the light. She blinks in an attempt to clear her vision; clear her head. But somewhere deep inside she knows that this isn't her reality.

Dawn doesn't understand how, or why, but the knowledge is there. She is adrift in a dream state and something is calling to her; pulling at her spirit. She should want to fight it, but she doesn't. It feels like home is beckoning her: Baked apples and hot cocoa.

Sweet warmth and unconditional love.

But the thought of giving in and following that urge to walk towards 'it' sends a paralyzing fear throughout her being. And still...she feels herself reaching out to touch...something.

It's acceptance that is calling to her. She feels it now. Whoever you are, whatever you are, you are loved and will be cared for. It's somewhere to belong. It feels so right to finally belong; to be wanted.

But a small voice in the back of her mind tells that it's not right. It's a lie.

Dawn tries to think of the reasons why she should turn her back on the light. There are...people. Family. Yes, people that love her and...

Oh but it's so warm here...Ah. Ah. Ohhhh, so warm.

No, no no. She has to fight, needs to...

Colin. Colin, Buffy, Willow and...and...Giles. Her family. Her friends, they need...

No, they love her. Want her back. She...

Oh, but it smells so sweet. Feels like sunshine. Like the California sun on my face and mmmmmmm...

No. No, it's wrong. All wrong. Oh...help.

Help me. Please. Please...someone help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside my head's a box of stars
I never dared to open.
Inside the wounded hide their scars.
Inside this lonesome sparrow's fall...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What did Wesley, er, say?" The question is perfectly legitimate, but his expression belies what his eyes are saying.

Willow...I am drawn to you like no other. Is it so wrong?

"I need to go there. I might be able to get some answers if I'm there." She neglects to tell him about the amulet's discovery, unsure how he would react to such a revelation.

"Does he have any idea what's going on with Dawn?" He removes his glasses and the light dances over his face in a way that makes her momentarily forget her reasoning.

This is wrong, isn't it? I-I don't know why, but it has to be. We...we can't, but...oh...why do I feel this way? What is wrong with me?

Despite everything, she appears to him as an angel. He knows it's a foolish notion and he feels terribly silly pining after such a young woman; a girl that he'd been almost a father-figure to for a number of years.

But then, this isn't the same person. Is it?

I fight everyday to keep my eyes off you. I don't think I want to fight anymore. I need you; your strength, your guidance. You are divine, Willow. Were you always so? If I take you in my arms, would you pull away my charming girl?

"Uh-uh. But I think I do." Willow breaks the spell forming between them. Giles clears his throat, replacing his glasses.

"So, you'll go right away?" He pretends to ignore her rapid breathing and her flushed cheeks. This is the most inopportune time for...for...any of this. There may never be a 'time'. Period. Best to let it go, he tells himself; though his body is telling him otherwise.

"Yes. I'll leave tonight." She gently extricates her hand from his and stands. He rises to meet her.

"T-tonight? Er...alright, let me- I'll drive you to the airport. Have you purchased a flight?"

"Um...no, I should call-"

"I'll call for you, Willow. You go get your things together and I'll take care of everything." She smiles warmly.

"You always do." There is a hint of playfulness in her eyes that he finds hard to misinterpret. He smiles a small smile and rounds the desk to where she stands.

"Not always. You've done quite a bit yourself." He towers over her but ducks his head, fixing her with a gaze so...intimate...that she cannot help but blush. Still, she doesn't look away.

Giles wonders at the way her wintry eyes glaze over at his manner. He reaches a tentative hand towards her shining, snow-white hair and dances over it with a shadow of a caress.

"Willow." He breathes more into that one word than ever before. Staring into her eyes for brief seconds, he lets his hand drop to his side. "This is wrong on so many levels, I dare not say, but my god...what you've done to me."

She shivers, momentarily closing her eyes. "Ru..."

"I know." He sighs dejectedly. "I know it's wrong, I-I know, it's just..." He laughs mirthlessly. "It's just wrong."

"Is it?" She opens her gaze to his.

Her question surprises them both. He holds his breath, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Isn't it?"

She doesn't answer, only studies him and allows her emotions to surface for an instant. Giles sees his own passion reflected back from her and is startled. He closes the short distance between them and asks a silent permission to which she acquiesces.

And then his lips are on hers. Briefly. Softly. Oh-so-fleeting, and then it passes.

He pulls back, having not touched her in any other way, and waits. Her bright eyes flicker open and they smolder. He moans her name.

"I'm leaving." She says softly. "There is so much that needs to be done to set everything right, and I have to go now." He nods. "When I return, you and I are going to do quality time, Ru. Cause this?" She indicates the two of them. "This is happening whether we want it to or not. And to be honest, I don't know what's right or wrong here, because...because..."

She moves her hands in the air between them, as if caressing his aura and her own.

"This is something."

"You're right, of course." Giles steps back a bit. "This really is not the time." Willow stops him by advancing and placing her hand on his cheek.

"I know what you're thinking." He squints at her. "No, I'm not reading your mind. Do you guys really think I would do that?" They both laugh softly. She brushes her fingertips across his lips and then places her hand on his shoulder. He softens at her touch.

"You're thinking that you've been like a father to me for a number of years and now it just seems wrong that we have this...this attraction or whatever, right?"

He nods imperceptibly.

"Only I never thought of you like a dad, Ru. Not really. And things have changed so drastically over the last year or two."

She pauses to think.

"All of that seems like a lifetime ago." He smiles, tentatively. "We're different people."

"We certainly are." He covers her hand with his own.

"And we can't let our past rob us of the special things."

He smiles. "And this is special, do you think?"

"Yes." She answers without hesitation. "Don't you?"

"I think I could love you." He whispers urgently, as if saying it in full voice would cause some great disturbance. She lightly traces the lines in his forehead.

"Does that bother you?" Giles hears the genuine fear in her voice and takes her into his arms, cradling her head in his large palm.

"It should, but it doesn't." He chuckles. "It bothers me that it doesn't."

"Yeah." She agrees, returning his embrace and placing her head on his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Love is a shameless banner unfurled
Love's an explosion,
Love is the fire of the world
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We can't do this now." She sighs as he kisses the top of her crown.

"No. We cannot." He raises his head and looks into her eyes. "Sweet Willow."

Their lips meet again and this time the kiss is real. He hugs her to him as if his very life depends on it, wrapping her small frame in his arms. Willow takes a long moment to recognize the comfort of his embrace and the fire in his kiss and then she slowly pulls away.

"I...um..." She motions towards the door.

"Yes, of course." Giles quickly steps back and allows her to pass. Her voice calling from the door turns him around to face her.

"Thank you, Rupert." He tilts his head, confused.

"For?"

"For being you." She smiles and leaves quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Love's an explosion.
Love is the fire of the world.
Love is a violent star,
A tide of destruction.
Love is an angry scar,
A violation, a mutilation, capitulation,
Love is annihilation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn fights to rise to the surface, but something won't let her.
The urge to stay grows stronger, and her resolve is weakening.
She turns to the light and feels it commanding her to submit.

And she lets go.

Warm hands pull her and she goes willingly, but then the atmosphere changes.
There is a struggle and she is suddenly in the middle of a war.

Darkness strobes through the light and with it she hears intermittent screams.

Oh god...what...what is that?

She is struck with a bolt of fear and fury and grief that takes her breath. A throbbing agony manifests itself in her stomach and she doubles over. She looks up with watery eyes and sees a great chasm opening before her.

No no, not real. Not. Real.

Very real, young one.

No. Why? Please!

You are an abomination.

What?

You were never meant to be. You are not to exist. We will set things right.

I am Dawn. I am Dawn Summers. I am not an abomination. I am a human being.

You are a mistake and we intend to correct it. You cannot hide behind the other one for long.

What? What other one?

He will be released to claim his prize, miscreant, and when he is free of you and you of him, we will come for you.

When he is...you mean...Spike?

When he is free, you will be ours to dispose of as you were meant to be.

Oh...god...no...

Go back to your falsehoods, blasphemer. We will come for you soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside the rain keeps falling.
Outside the drums are calling.
Outside the flood won't wait.
Outside they're hammering down the gate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn wakes with a scream into Colin's tightening arms. He is chanting her name over and over, stroking her hair and rocking her soothingly, trying to bring her into awareness. She screams until her consciousness is anchored and she feels him around her.

She looks into his deep, chestnut eyes - sees the love and concern for her in them- and clutches him to herself, crying for all that she's had, all that she has and all that she is about to lose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

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