Title: In The Company Of Wolves
Author: Jonquil
Email: serpyllum@yahoo.com
Distribution: Just ask.
Rating: R (strong language, violence, sexual references)
Spoilers: Fourth season, post-Oz, pre-Tara
Summary: Willow has re-fanged Spike, and must deal with the consequences. Sequel to "Blinded By Science".
Feedback: reinforces the desired behavior.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to large corporations, and were created by the brilliant writers for Buffy and Angel.

Epilogue


Cordelia picked Willow up at LAX. She scanned Willow from disheveled hair to bare feet, then raised one exquisite eyebrow. "Unusual ensemble, girl. And where the hell have you been?"

Willow sighed. "It's a very, very long story. Let me save it till I'm conscious?" She climbed into the front seat of the convertible and promptly fell asleep. Cordelia rolled her eyes and turned the Angelmobile toward home.

"Angel? It's Cordelia. Make with the vampire muscles. I can't get Princess Diana out of the car by myself." Angel put down his cellphone and headed the garage. Willow was slumped against the car door in a cloud of crumpled taffeta.

Angel slipped an arm behind Willow's shoulders, then froze as her head lolled sideways, exposing the necklace. "Oh, my God."

"Yes, I know, that's no way to treat a de la Renta."

Angel shot Cordelia a grim look but said nothing. He slid his free hand under Willow's knees, picked her up, carried her into his room, and settled her into his bed. That girl has some explaining to do.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We're fresh out of princes."

Willow threw an arm over her eyes. Which motel is this? Something seemed out of place. That's not Spike's voice! She scrambled to the far side of the bed and stood up.

Cordelia stared at her in disbelief, half a mug of coffee in one hand. The remainder of the mug had been deposited all over a box of doughnuts and the bedclothes. Willow looked around; she was in some sort of rehabilitated warehouse, decorated in what Willow had come to think of as Vampire Moderne. Angel's place, I guess. As the silence dragged on, Cordelia's stare grew more pointed.

"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I haven't been sleeping well, and I was startled."

"So I see." Cordelia gave her an up-and-down look, reminding Willow of her disheveled finery. Willow raised one hand to her hair; the gardenia was gone. "Cordelia -- can I borrow some sweats or -- something? Because I've had it with thee Oscar look."

Cordelia shot her a Look. "Come on, Willow, dish. Where have you been? We've all been worried sick."

"Cordy... I was away. I'm home now. I really don't want to talk about it."

"Got tired of being kept?" She nodded toward the foot of the bed. "There's a FedEx package for you, by the way. Who knows you're here?"

Willow sprang back, colliding with a brick wall. "God only knows what's in it... has it been checked?"

Cordelia gave her another odd look. "Who've you been hanging out with, the PLO? No, it hasn't been checked, but it was opened at Customs, and I'm sure they'd have mentioned sudden explosions."

Well, that rules out Girl Scout hearts, I'm pretty sure. Willow picked up the package and opened it. It contained her laptop ... and her stack of 'Perl scripts'. There was no note.

She sat down on the bed and stared at the package, oblivious to Cordelia's demands for an explanation.

A voice interrupted her reverie. "Willow, we need to talk. Cordelia, out." Willow looked at Angel's face -- Stoic Vampire Mask 101. I guess I know where Spike learned it. -- and waited for Cordelia to argue with Angel. To Willow's great surprise, Cordelia left without a word. Angel locked the door behind her, then turned to Willow.

"Willow. What does that necklace mean?"

Willow met his eyes defiantly. "I think you know that better than I do."

"Almost certainly. Did you put yourself into a vampire's hands voluntarily? How could you be so stupid?"

"How can you even think that? Do you really believe that after four years helping Buffy I'd run off--"

"I don't know what to think. You left with Spike--"

"I didn't even mention Spike! And I didn't leave with Spike! He kidnapped...." Her voice trailed off. "That was mean, Angel."

He gave her a half-smile. "It worked. Did he hurt you?"

That was a hard question to answer. "Noooo. Not really."

Angel looked grimmer. "Is that the same as 'Yes'? He can't hurt you here. He's under my authority --"

Willow flinched violently. Angel misread her. "I'll hunt him down. I promise, Willow. He's dust."

"No. He didn't hurt me, Angel. We had a deal. He didn't hurt me, I didn't hurt him. It's over now."

"Then you can take off that necklace."

Willow's hands flew up. The necklace weighed heavy, in years if not in kilos. But.... "No, Angel. We had a deal. It's not over yet."

"Then I need to ask you again, do you know what that means?"

Willow gulped. "I used to think I did. But I think I was wrong. To know what it meant. I think I thought it meant something completely different. Which would have been better that what it did mean, really. But I'm babbling again. I thought I'd outgrown that, but I guess I was wrong." She looked hopefully at Angel.

Stone-faced, he repeated, "What does it mean, Willow?"

She sighed. "It means he's planning on turning me into a vampire. And, no, that isn't my plan. And I wouldn't have put it on if I'd known what it meant, but a deal's a deal."

"Don't do it, Willow. Eternal life isn't--"

Much to her own surprise, Willow exploded. "Don't be an idiot, Angel! I spent the last few months living in vampire society. I probably know more about what it's like today than you do, what with the whole lone brooding thing. I have no desire to become vampire-me, and I'm making my own plans to make sure it doesn't happen. But don't treat me like some stupid child, because I wouldn't be alive today if I were stupid or a child."

Angel made that weird noise that passed for a vampire sigh. "True enough. But come to me if you need help. I'll do anything in my power."

"Thank you, Angel."

Willow returned to Sunnydale with a partial explanation of her adventures. Spike had kidnapped her, she'd escaped, she was fine now, and yes, she wanted to get back into college life. The story satisfied nobody, but she repeated it often enough to persuade even Giles and Buffy that it was the only explanation she intended to offer.

The remainder of the year passed peacefully enough. Willow joined a Wicca group, assisted in world-saveage as needed, and made the Dean's List. She still woke at night sometimes, reaching for a cold body that was never there.

On the appointed day she met her lawyer in the park at noon. Joanie, face grave, said "Everything okay now?" Willow forced a smile and said, "Yes, he's long gone." Joanie smiled and handed over the tape. Willow offered the lawyer a coffee, which she declined, then took the parcel back to her dorm room.

Willow sat on her bed and looked at the tape. It seemed so small to have guarded her life for months. If it had; Spike's comment had reinforced her own suspicion that the tape was more of a pretext than a real threat. If he'd ever truly wanted her dead, the tape wouldn't have stopped him. He was a man of the moment, not much concerned with long-term consequences.

She tossed the tape from hand to hand. She had no way to contact Spike. The FedEx package had carried a false return address. God only knew where he was unliving now. It didn't seem right to destroy the thing, forcing him to trust her word. Until she could return it, she needed to put it in a safe place. She opened her laptop case, slipped the tape into it, and closed the top.

That was two, he said. Which means, one of these days, there'll be a three...