Title: Judgment
Author: Medea
Email: medealives@hotmail.com
Pairing: Willow/Angel friendship, Buffy/Spike
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Willow's joyride in 'Wrecked' was only the beginning of her downward spiral.
Spoilers: Through BtVS "Smashed" and "Wrecked"; and AtS "Lullaby"
Archive: Please do.
Disclaimer: Joss created. I am not Joss. Therefore, not mine, never will be. Pity, that.
Note: A response to Kendra A's challenge to "fix" Wrecked, although I don't really feel that the ep needed fixing. There's nothing wrong with taking a character through the moral gray zone. I kinda thought it gave Willow some interesting nuances.
Note 2: This is not part of the Masters and Minions universe -- Willow is human. For Willow/Angel fans -- it comes later in the story, but it *will* come.
Feedback: Much appreciated: medealives@hotmail.com

~Part: 5~


Xander felt horrible.

He couldn't listen to this conversation. He couldn't be part of this conversation. Tuning out the others, he simply stared at Willow as she shrank against the wall of Spike's crypt.

Once, when they were seven, he and Willow had been playing at a pond. As Willow crouched down, entranced by bugs skittering along the water's surface, a bullfrog had leaped at her face. Startled, she'd fled shrieking from the pond. Where other boys might have teased her for being such a "scaredy cat", Xander had considered it his own, very important task to comfort her. It had been the first time in his life that he'd felt like he had a special status: Xander Harris, Willow's Best Bud.

Later, he, Willow and Jesse had been a team. They'd never made the in-crowd, but that hadn't mattered. Xander hadn't needed anyone else's opinion to tell him he was okay, because he could make Willow smile. And that was enough.

He looked at her now. She shivered and twitched nervously, breathing in shallow pants, more like a caged animal than his childhood friend. Occasionally, their eyes met. That hurt the worst, for in Willow's haunted gaze there wasn't the faintest glimmer of recognition. Xander saw himself reflected back as no more than one of several captors.

A lump swelled in his throat.

Anya's voice filtered through his self-imposed wall of stoicism.

"We can't keep her at our place. Xander and Willow have a past. That's bad luck for a marriage -- I should know, I've seen it happen. The only thing worse than inviting a fiancé's past loves into your home before the wedding is including tulips in the bridal bouquet -- disaster just waiting to happen."

"I want to help, but...I don't think I'm ready to keep her at my apartment...and there's still the fact that my place is stocked with magic supplies," Tara murmured apologetically. "I just...hate to see her like this."

"There's a good reason we have to keep her under guard," Buffy countered firmly. "If you need a reminder, take a good look at Dawn sometime. I hate seeing Willow this way, too, but we don't know if it's safe to trust her yet. Until we do, she has to be confined."

"Xander and I don't have any chains... that we can spare," Anya protested.

"Look, just leave her here," Spike interrupted, rolling his eyes at the anguished exchange. "Leave her some food and water, she'll be fine. No trouble for me to keep an eye on her. Kind of nice to have a cowering human in the crypt."

"Spike!" Buffy snapped angrily.

Xander felt like he was going to be sick. He finally turned away from Willow and stared at the others, visibly pained.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when the only one who'd be willing to take Willow in was a vampire who'd tried to kill her before -- and then only because she's lost, alone, and frightened enough to make him forget he's neutered," Xander choked bitterly.

"Watch it, AB-neg," Spike growled, glaring at him. Buffy, Tara and Anya merely gaped awkwardly.

When Buffy recovered her voice, she said gently, "Xander, Willow is my friend, too. But we've seen how dangerous she can be. With her power intact, she poses a threat. She may look harmless now, but anything could trigger the darkness again -- and I don't want to take any chances on what she could unleash."

"And we certainly can't let ourselves show compassion for anyone whose dark side is hanging by a thread," Xander retorted angrily. "Willow was able to forgive Angel for everything he did when he went Psycho Boy on us. If we can't offer Willow the same compassion she had for a bloodthirsty killer...that's pretty sad. Where do I sign up to be officially ashamed of us?"

Buffy's eyes widened at the mention of Angel, but she clenched her jaw and answered coolly, "I want to help Willow, but Dawn comes first."

"So, what? We leave Wills chained up here with Spike, like a dog in a kennel?" Xander demanded.

The gang looked at each other uncomfortably.

Meanwhile, Willow continued rocking herself, furtively glancing at Tara.

Wesley pored over the weathered manuscript on his desk, frowning at the ambiguous passage. Reaching for his Akkadian dictionary and cursing himself for having gotten so rusty with ancient languages since leaving the Watchers Council, he was nonetheless grateful that Cordelia and the others had yet to arrive for work. When a translation was particularly difficult, he needed a distraction-free environment.

A shrill ringing jolted him from his intense concentration and caused him to bang his knee on the desk. He winced.

Blasted phone.

He picked up. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless." After a pause, he continued in a less-disgruntled tone, "Oh, hello Buffy. I was just researching your situation. I must say, I've learned some fascinating things about Ptersian spheres and trans-dimensional-- what?"

As Wesley listened, his eyebrows rose above the rims of his spectacles and his expression grew apprehensive. He glanced uncomfortably toward the lobby at the sound of Angel's approach. Nodding curtly and muttering affirmations at the appropriate intervals, he mouthed "Buffy" at Angel's questioning look.

"Yes, I can see your predicament," Wesley offered diplomatically after a few more moments. "However, I think this is something you should discuss with Angel -- oh, here he is now."

Wesley thrust the phone at Angel and repressed a smile as the vampire who fearlessly battled demons shrank back slightly, as though the phone might bite him. Angel took the phone and said, "Buffy, hi...Has something happened since?...uh huh....uh huh...."

While Angel listened to Buffy, Wesley stared at him intently and whispered, "Tell. Her."

Angel's eyes widened in mild panic. He shook his head at Wesley and gestured to the phone, all the while maintaining his end of the conversation with occasional grunts.

Looking somewhat defeated, Angel finally offered, "Of course I want to help. And you're not abandoning Willow -- you have Dawn to think of... you have to make tough choices when someone's safety depends on you..."

Angel winced as he said this, and Wesley took the opportunity to whisper once again, "Tell. Her."

Angel waved him off and continued, "I'm not sure how we'll be able to help her any better than you could, but we'll do our best...all right...all right, we'll see you tonight."

Wesley folded his arms across his chest and watched patiently as Angel hung up the phone. The dark vampire leaned against the desk, head hung in defeat.

"So, they're bringing Ms. Rosenberg here," Wesley deduced quietly.

"I didn't know how I could refuse," Angel murmured weakly, his eyes closed.

Wesley's eyes narrowed and his voice grew stern. "Let's see, how about, 'Buffy, my infant son is the target of several groups who would like to sacrifice him or otherwise threaten his existence, so this isn't really a good time for me to watch over a rogue witch'?"

"Buffy is not going to learn about Connor over the phone," Angel snapped, fixing Wesley with a resolute gaze. "Besides, from what they can tell, Willow is incapacitated."

"For the time being," Wesley reminded him.

"We're still better equipped to restrain her than they are -- especially with Giles gone. Buffy is a warrior, not a student of the occult," Angel insisted.

"Well, if she'd--" Wesley slipped into Watcher mode, then shifted gears when he saw the scowl on Angel's face and acknowledged weakly. "--not been so busy preventing one Apocalypse after another, she might have had more time to study the basics of magic."

An awkward silence settled between them.

"Why don't you--" Angel began.

"I'll go prepare a room for Ms. Rosenberg," Wesley volunteered, resigned to the imminent arrival of the Sunnydale crew. He started toward the lobby, then paused. "I'll do what I can to establish a binding spell, should her abilities re-emerge."

Buffy steeled her nerves as she, Xander and Tara walked into the spacious hotel lobby. Spike followed, carrying Willow. Buffy came to an abrupt halt when she saw Angel seated on a lounge.

Spike wasn't the only vampire cradling someone in his arms.

Angel looked up from the babe he'd been cooing softly and his eyes locked with Buffy's. Hesitantly, Angel rose to his feet. For a moment, both of them were speechless.

"Bloody hell, the Poof really is running a day care service," Spike drawled. Ignoring Angel's irritated glare, Spike nodded down at Willow and said, "Right. Where do I drop your next babysitting project?"

Before Angel could bite out a retort, Cordelia emerged from the office, followed closely by Fred, Gunn and Wesley, and demanded indignantly, "What is *he* doing here?" Not waiting for a reply, she turned to Gunn and asked, "Want a little target practice with the cross-bow?"

Gunn raised his eyebrows eagerly. "This one of the vamps we get to stake?"

"Absolutely," Cordelia assured him vehemently.

"If we're through with the ill-tempered welcome?" Buffy interrupted impatiently.

"There is no way the bleached wonder is going any further beyond this point," Cordelia insisted stubbornly. Buffy's eyes narrowed as Cordelia stepped in front of Angel, as if to shield him and the child from the recent arrivals.

Now Buffy was even more curious about this baby.

"Fine," Spike answered coolly. He turned to Tara and made as if to hand Willow to her. "You take her. You're the only one she let near her on the ride over, anyway."

Tara fidgeted awkwardly, looking alarmed at the prospect of having to carry Willow. She was spared when Buffy intervened again.

"Spike is with us. Either you show him where we can put Willow, or we find our own way."

Buffy stared at Angel's co-workers with grim determination, and eventually they flinched. Wesley stepped back and gestured for Spike to follow him. "I've made up one of the guest rooms. Ms. Rosenberg should be quite comfortable there."

As Spike, Xander and Tara moved to follow him, Buffy said, "I'll be there in a minute."

The blond vampire paused and gazed searchingly at her. Buffy saw the storm of emotion in his eyes -- fear, uncertainty, jealousy. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then muttered, "Take your time."

Buffy placed a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. With a slight smile, she whispered, "Thanks."

Spike's eyes softened and Buffy detected a familiar gleam, one she'd not only grown accustomed to...she was actually starting to feel comfortable with it.

Tenderness.

Aware of their audience, Buffy nonetheless realized that the same tenderness was reflected in her own eyes. A hint of a smile tugged at Spike's lips.

She dropped her hand and Spike strode away, accompanied by Xander and Tara as Angel's colleagues escorted them to Willow's room. Buffy didn't fail to notice the tense glare Angel and Spike exchanged.

Finally, she and Angel were left alone.

The silence stretched on for a few minutes as they regarded each other.

"So...a really young client?" Buffy asked lightly, nodding at the child in Angel's arms.

"No," Angel replied slowly, looking more nervous than Buffy could ever remember having seen him. "He's my son."




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