Fates Uncertain: Part 2
by Arymede
He was living his worst nightmares. He was attacking Buffy, he couldn't help it, here in Hell, Angelus had control. She came to him, offering to help him, soothing his wounds, and he attacked her. And the worst part was, he could feel Angelus's pleasure, could hear the laughter coming from his own lips, as Buffy fell dead in his arms, her throat torn out, her blood in him. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
But Buffy moved. Hope sprang into him. Maybe - She looked up at him with yellow eyes that destroyed all hope. Vampire eyes. He'd changed his beloved.
He heard words of love coming from her. She pulled his face down to hers, kissed him. And that hurt worst of all. Because it wasn't him she was kissing. It was Angelus.
His mind screamed within him as she proceeded to declare her love for the demon, most...physically...
* * *
The Slayerettes met in the library two hours later. Willow was still on the 'Net, hacking into anything she could think of. Oz was beside her.
"Okay, so what've we got?" she asked
"Not a lot on my part," answered Giles. "The only flights out of Sunnydale have been to either Los Angeles or San Francisco. At least, since Buffy disappeared. No one seems to remember seeing her, however. Don't rule it out, though."
"Xander?"
"Okay, we've had buses leave to just about everywhere in the U.S, so that doesn't help. We did get a couple of Buffy sightings, though, between 7:30 and 8:30 yesterday morning. Which means that our choices are down to L.A, San Fran, Seattle, New Orleans, and Miami."
"Great! I've hacked into the police department, and sent out a warrant that says, more or less, she's dangerous, don't try and approach her, just call Detective Rupert Giles in Sunnydale, CA if she's seen." Willow was rather proud of that idea.
"Go, Will!" exclaimed Xander.
"Detective...?" mused Giles. Willow interrupted him.
"Don't worry, I gave them your home phone number, and the number here in the library."
The librarian shrugged. "Willow, can that...*machine* look for any Slayer-related phenomena?"
"I've sent out a request to notify me if the vampire population seems to drop anywhere, or if rumours start about people turning to dust." Seeing Giles's horrified expression, she amended herself. "Oh, no! Only to my e-mail contacts who know about things like that. But don't hold your breath. It could take months or - or even years before anyone notices anything."
"In any case, it's something," Giles said wearily, as he sat back in his chair. "And that's more than we had before."
"So what do we do now?" Xander seemed rather anxious.
"We wait," replied the Watcher.
* * *
After Whistler left, Buffy had sat down again on the river bank. But this time, she wasn't thinking of drowning herself. But the only people willing to use that sort of spell were people who Buffy would not normally associate with.
She realized she was in a good enough place to start. New Orleans. Voodoo capital of the U.S. Surely someone around here would know how it could be done.
She got up and walked away, looking for a place to spend the night.
* * *
The next morning, Buffy woke up in bed in a cheap motel in a slummy looking area of the city. She dressed quickly, not wanting to take a shower after watching cockroaches scuttle down the drain. She wore simple, functional clothing, unadorned, but for the silver cross at her throat, and the Claddagh ring Angel had given her. She picked up her bag, unwilling to leave it here to be stolen while she was away. As she left the room, she slipped on the comforting warmth of Angel's leather jacket.
Downstairs, she paid for her room, asking the man at the counter where she should go to find someone experienced in magic. He gave her an odd look, but directed her to the French Quarter.
She spent most of the morning wandering, looking around in magic shops and such places, before deciding that they were phony tourist traps. She felt helpless, she didn't know a thing about magic. That was Giles's department, and Willow's. Buffy was just the muscle.
A little after noon, she realized that she'd had it good in Sunnydale. She wished she could have Giles here right now, telling her what to do, Willow looking stuff up, and Xander just...being Xander. But she couldn't go back. Everything she loved got killed, and she refused to let herself curse her friends like that. And Sunnydale held too many memories. But, God, she wished they were here with her.
Then she slapped herself for being such an idiot. She'd call Willow. She'd call her from a payphone, and make sure Will didn't know where she was, but she'd enlist Willow's help.
* * *
Willow and Giles had both fallen asleep in the library, slumped over computer and books, respectively. Xander and Cordelia had left, knowing there was nothing they could do. Oz sat, playing his guitar softly.
All three of them jumped when the phone rang.
"Y-yes. Hello?" answered Giles, pushing his glasses up, flustered.
"Is it the police? Has someone seen her?" Willow was excited, and would have jumped up and run to the phone if she hadn't been in her wheelchair.
Giles looked confused momentarily. "Yes, yes, of course," he said into thephone. He held the receiver out to Willow. "It's for you."
She took it. "Hello?"
"Willow Rosenburg?" The voice was female, and there was something familiar about it that she couldn't quite place.
"Yes, that's me." What was it about that voice?
"I'm Constable Stratford of the Sunnydale Police. I'd like to talk to you." It was hoarse and somehow false, as if...
"Yeah, sure," she replied absently.
...As if someone were trying to disguise their voice! "Buffy!?" she exclaimed, and Giles jumped.
Buffy's voice returned to normal. "Yeah, Will, it's me. Look, I need your help, and I need to know you're not going to try and come after me. Can you promise that? If you don't, I'll be gone faster than...well, really fast."
"No, no, don't go. I promise. What do you need?"
Giles was impatiently crouching by Willow's chair, just barely restraining himself from grabbing the phone out of her hand. "Buffy?! Where is she? Is she in trouble? We must tell her mother."
"NO!" came Buffy's voice over the receiver. "Will, you might as well include Giles in this, but only if he makes the same promise you just did. I trust you two to realize that I can take care of myself, but mom, well, she'll think she has to come after her baby."
Willow related the terms of the agreement to Giles, who reluctantly agreed.
"Okay, Will, I need you to give me the names and addresses of any and all of your magic people friends. You know, people who can help me find spells. And I guess Giles could look for it, too."
"Okay, Buff. I'll have to ask my contacts if they'll give me their real names. Can I give you to Giles now?"
"Yeah, fine." Willow handed the receiver to the eager Watcher.
"Buffy!" cried Giles into the phone. "Where are you? What do you think you're doing there? Don't you remember your duty -"
"You know Giles? If you keep at this, I'll hang up and never call back. I've been through all this enough for one lifetime, and it's not even over yet. I'm not going to tell you where I am. If you and Willow find out, good for you, but I am *not* going back to Sunnydale. Not until I can deal with it, with the memories, with what I've done. Now, are you going to help me or not?" Giles, much chastened, gave his assent. "Good. Now, what I need is some sort of spell to retrieve something from Hell. I don't care how, or who does it, but I *have* to get that spell. I'll be calling back in a day or two, so you can give me whatever you've got then."
And then the line went dead. Giles was left staring at the receiver in his hand.
"Giles?" Willow's concerned voice broke through his stunned expression.
"Yes? Oh! She wants us to find a spell to bring something out of Hell." He put the phone back on the hook, and walked over to Willow at the computer.
"Can we do that?" she asked. "I mean, is there even such a thing?"
"We're going to ind out."
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