All of Buffy and her universe aren't mine, they belong to Joss and co. I'm just borrowing, so please don't sue me..
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Part One
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Sunnydale High School’s library was completely empty as soon as the final bell rang. This was a fairly common occurrence, thanks to the warm California weather. The sun was shining bright and warm, inviting even the most dedicated student to enjoy the great outdoors. The few who ventured into the dimly-lit home for books despite the temptation didn’t stay long, unconsciously trying to stay away from the evil vibe coming from within. They assumed the vibe was school-related.
Of course, they didn’t know that it was coming from the gate to Hell that resided just below the numerous research tables formed in the center of the room. As a result of both factors, the library had become sort of a safe haven for one Slayer and her Slayerettes.
“Okay, we’re just going to jump right in. When I say go, I want you to try to punch or kick me as hard as you can.” Buffy Summers wiped the sweat from her brow and assumed her fighting stance. She was clad in typical fighting gear--track pants and a tank top--used normally to fight the Hellmouth’s worst. But this time it wasn’t demons or vampires that she faced. It was her best friend, Willow Rosenberg.
“I’m not going to hurt you, am I Buffy?” Willow’s eyebrows knitted together in concern for her friend as she assumed a similar position.
“Go!” replied the energetic blond, as if her friend’s comment needed no response. Willow began the assault, concentration masking her expression. Despite her petite stature and distaste for attacking her friends, she was getting in some high quality hits. They were probably a result of her summer as the Slayer’s replacement, but it was still a rather impressive demonstration of physical prowess. Buffy smiled proudly and glanced at the librarian standing in the doorway of his office.
“Hey Giles,” she began, dodging and blocking the numerous kicks and punches that flew towards her, “what do you think? Maybe I can finally take a vacation. I’m thinking Disneyland.” She paused to look for his response, and left herself open for a kick that sent her sprawling on the ground.
Willow stood above her, looking down at her friend. “Buffy?” she asked meekly, “are you okay?” She reached down her hand, offering to help her up. Buffy took the proffered hand and quickly jumped to her feet.
“I’m fine, Will, really.” She paused to catch her breath and pulled her blond hair back into a ponytail. Rupert Giles set down the heavy book that had him pondering. He took off his glasses and began wiping them off-a nervous habit-and then walked over to where the two girls stood. Buffy turned her attention to him and sighed. “I know the drill. In every generation there is a Chosen ONE, that being me and no one else. She ALONE will stand against the vampires, demons and forces of darkness. She is the Slayer,” Buffy recited, mimicking the words spoken to her hundreds of times. She paused thoughtfully and gave him her trademark smirk, “Sort of like a one-man band.”
Giles was about to scold her for her misuse of the prophecy when Willow interrupted him. “But you’re not a one-man band, Buffy. You have us,” she said. Buffy smiled sadly and gestured for them to continue training.
Concern filled the eyes of the librarian as he watched them prepare for another round. As the Watcher, it was his job to make sure Buffy was doing hers correctly. At first, her friends were not a welcome addition to the mix. But over time, he had grown rather fond of his charge and her ‘Scooby Gang’. The many nights of research as well as their assistance against numerous enemies has proven them all to be capable allies and loyal friends.
Willow herself had proven to be an invaluable asset to the Slayer’s cause. Her skills at hacking into that dreaded computer had him impressed, and her recent discovery of practicing the Wiccan arts had him amazed, but her newfound talents as the Slayer’s apprentice had him utterly dumbfounded. He had been researching the reason for this newfound physical competence, but had yet to find answers. “Willow, I do not want you to use this as an excuse to put yourself in danger. You are not ready for the challenges that Buffy must face. Until I can find the reason for this-“ he stopped when he saw her emerald green eyes twinkle with anticipation. She was, perhaps, the only girl in California who actually looked forward to a night of research.
“Time to go into deep-research mode,” she presumed out loud.
Buffy inhaled the soft scents of spring that drafted through the dark cemetery. A faint yet sweet scent of lilacs was interwoven within the cool breeze, accompanied by that of grass cut only hours ago and flowers strewn carefully over freshly dug graves. Various other scents danced around her, but there was one in particular that caught her attention. It was the stench of death.
A shrill scream broke the silence. The Slayer immediately froze, then reached for the stake she had waiting in her bag of tricks. That bag was then discarded as she raced towards the screaming. It was right past the large tombs on the northwest corner. It seemed like years before she reached it, but she did. She froze.
There stood her best friend, clad in a white tank top and black leather pants reminiscent of her vampire twin of the other dimension. Her fiery red hair danced around her face, shadowing over the mask of rage that was her expression. Buffy could only stand and stare as she watched her quiet, meek little friend let out a second shrill of rage and finished pounding into two vampires at once. Again. She kicked the first one in the stomach, sending him flying into the open door of a tomb. Without hesitation, she then spun to the other, dusting him with a stake that appeared from nowhere. With a smug confidence similar to the Slayer’s, Willow smiled faintly, then turned back to do the same to the first one. He was gone.
“Willow?” Buffy found her voice, but could not contain the amazement in its tone. Willow spun to face the Slayer, stake poised for attack. She dropped it immediately when she saw who spoke. Her face reddened as green eyes met hazel, then dropped to the ground.
“Uh, hey Buffy. What brings you here?” Willow asked, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.
She failed. “Nice attempt at casual,” Buffy replied. Then she remembered the question and answered cheerfully, “I was supposed to do the patrol thing tonight. You know--go to the graveyard, stake a few Vamps, go home--but it looks like my job here is finished.” Willow smiled weakly at her friend’s sarcasm. Buffy continued, “Seriously, Will, what’s going on here?”
The two girls began walking through the musty night, dodging tombstones as they continued their conversation. Willow seemed lost in thought, so the normally impatient Buffy waited in silence for her to begin an explanation. Finally, she started. “Do you remember when the Vampire Willow was here?”
Buffy made a face, remembering the chaos brought out by that little ‘episode’.
Willow continued, “Do you remember the conversation we had when she was locked in the book cage? I was freaking out, ‘cause she was all violent and stuff, and you said that a vampire’s personality has nothing to do with the person that once was.”
She nodded, recollecting the events clearly. “Yeah, I remember. Then Angel agreed,” she recalled.
“Did he?” Willow asked rhetorically. Then she paused as if to change the subject. “I never believed in fate until I met you, Buffy. But then all of a sudden, I’m reading these books that predict your every move. I’m seeing other dimensions, places where all our lives are STILL intertwined. And I realized something. You moving here, Angel’s return from hell, my evil twin… It’s happening for a reason. I think it’s changing all of us.”
Buffy gestured to her friend’s outfit, hoping a joke would ease some of the emotional tension. “Well it certainly brought out your passion for leather,” she teased. Then her face returned to its previous seriousness as she watched her friend try to laugh. “I understand. I do. All those powers and all that responsibility, they make you feel invincible and powerless all at once. You question everything. I went through the same thing when I was called.”
Willow’s eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “I think it’s more complicated than that. But I don’t know what it is, or how to explain it the right way,” she said. Buffy watched her friend’s face change with the many emotions she felt. For once in her life, the Chosen One was speechless. She could think of no response to her friend’s confession, no addition to their conversation. Instead, the Slayer and her counterpart walked in comfortable silence back to the library. They were so wrapped up in their thoughts, neither bothered to notice the man in the shadows who watched the whole thing.
Alexander Harris looked at the massive book laid out in front of him and sighed. It had to have about a million pages. He was so sick of reading he seriously considered gouging his eyes out. Of course, one of them was already black and blue from the previous night, but he contemplated giving it a twin. It was nearly four in the afternoon when they began researching, and now it was a little after midnight. They had been reading for about eight hours in books on every imaginable topic. They were stacked everywhere--on the floor, tables, and chairs, even under Cordelia Chase’s sleeping head.
He glanced lovingly at her peaceful expression and grinned. Not too long ago, Cordelia was trapped in a superficial world of credit cards and shopping malls, caring only about her popularity. Eventually, she became aware of the monsters that resided in Sunnydale. It was because of these dangers that “Queen Cordelia” slowly befriended the Slayerettes and surprisingly became a valuable member of their group.
He reached out and brushed a piece of silky brown hair off of her face. Xander’s grin widened as he remembered their first kiss. The two were declared mortal enemies, constantly insulting and belittling each other. Both were so ashamed of their budding relationship, they literally kept it in the closet. It was Willow who discovered them, forcing them both to face reality. He was glad they did. For as long as he could remember, Willow was doing something to set him straight.
The thought of his childhood friend brought him crashing back to Earth. Xander wished she could be there with him. She left, saying she couldn’t just sit still and read, but he assumed it had to do with sitting in the same room as Cordelia and him. Then again, Willow wasn’t herself lately. In the sense of being someone completely different. He couldn’t figure out what was going on with her. One minute, she was the quiet, thoughtful girl he’d grown to love, and the next she was outspoken, wild, and spontaneous. The old Willow could sit and research for hours and love every minute of it. Now… he had to know what was happening. Inspired, he returned to his book just in time to be interrupted.
“Yes!" the exuberant shout came from Giles’ office. Xander jumped to his feet.
Cordelia’s head popped up. “It’s morning already?” she asked, confused. She took in her surroundings, remembering where she was. Realization flickered on her face. “Oh.” Irritated, she looked over to her boyfriend, awaiting a reason for disturbing her beauty sleep.
He knew the unanswered question. “Not me. That was the G-man.” He reached down his hand and helped her to her feet. They walked into the office and their jaws dropped. The room was normally a little cluttered, but it turned into a disaster area. Not one spot on the floor or desk was cleared, and the librarian’s condition was worse. Dark circles were formed under his eyes, although they now glowed with renewed exuberance and relief.
The Watcher smiled up at them; “I found the answer. The Book of Prophesies predicts that the Slayer will fall and another shall take her place. At the beginning, I thought that meant a new Slayer becoming Kendra’s replacement. But a translation of the text shows the replacement of the Slayer is not one herself.” The normally reserved librarian was so jazzed by information he forgot to breathe between sentences.
Cordelia’s eyebrow shot up. She needed clarification. “In English?”
Normally, Xander would break in with some kind of witty comment to disguise his confusion. He was too tired for that, now. And he wasn’t confused. “Willow’s the new Slayer,” he ventured.
“No, not exactly,” Giles said. “Her-um-powers are only temporary. They last only as long as she is needed.”
“How long is that?” Willow’s quiet voice interrupted the conversation and they all turned their attention to her. They observed her appearance, beyond surprised that the girl they all knew would voluntarily wear such an outfit. Usually, fuzzy sweaters and schoolgirl skirts were her style.
“Willow?” The shocked statement came from Xander. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Your new look’s kinda recycled now, isn’t it? He then turned his gaze to the other members of the group for their responses. Cordelia’s other eyebrow joined the first as a look of astonishment crossed her face. Giles was frozen, mouth dropped.
Buffy smiled from behind the petite redhead, then chimed into the conversation, “Fashion tip, Giles. Mouth looks better closed.” The librarian’s mouth immediately snapped shut, and still no words came out of anyone else’s. The group stood silently for what seemed like years before Cordelia broke it with one observation. She never was good at tact. “Guess you got past that ‘Sears’ phase, huh.” The rest of the group turned to look at the brunette. “What?”
* * *
It was nearing 2 a.m. and they were seated at one of the numerous research tables waiting for Giles to finish reading his prophecy book. Cordelia and Xander sat at the end of the table, talking quietly to Willow. Buffy occasionally joined the conversation, but spent most of the time watching Giles. Eventually, he sat back in his chair.
“So what’s the what?” asked Buffy. She spent enough time around Giles to recognize his ‘uh-oh’ face. The Watcher pushed his glasses farther on his nose and looked up at her with worried eyes.
“The end of the world,” he said softly. The room suddenly got quiet as the rest of the group turned to them.
“Didn’t we do that last week?” Xander asked. Cordelia pinched his arm. “Ow!”
“Xander, this is terribly serious,” said Giles. He then turned back to Buffy. “The translations are a bit musty, but the message is clear. Someone is trying to open the breach to the Hellmouth. You must find out who it is, and stop them immediately. There’s no telling what could come through if they succeed. Time is of the essence.”
Buffy nodded gravely and grabbed her coat. She was used to messages like this, and knew how important it was to act quickly. “Okay, I’m going to hit the streets, see what I can find out.” She then turned to Willow and said, “Go get Angel. If they know he’s back from Hell, they’ll want to know how. They might go there.” Then she turned and walked out the door.
Willow walked through the moonlight to Angel’s home, thinking about the past. Twice in her life, the Wicca-in-training opened portals into different dimensions. The first time was when she secretly performed the spell that retrieved Angel from Hell. The second was when she helped Anya, a girl from school, perform a spell to retrieve her necklace from another dimension. She accidentally opened the portal and brought back a vampire version of herself instead. Most people couldn’t do it once. The thought of her accomplishments in the black and not-so-black arts made her both proud and scared at the same time.
Willow was so lost in such thoughts she didn’t even pay attention to her surroundings. Strangely, her newfound ‘spider sense’ did not go off once while she was out. In fact, she did not see one vampire during her moonlit walk. As she entered the corridor the led to the old mansion, she prayed it was because the night was almost over. The cold air made her shiver as she reached her destination. She knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer. She tested the doorknob. It opened.
“Angel? Are you here?” Willow asked cautiously as she entered. There was no answer. The Slayerette sat on the couch, stifling a yawn. Her elbow was rested on the arm of the couch, head rested in her hand. She closed her eyes.
“Willow?” The softly spoken word revived her from a dreamless sleep. The redhead’s eyes fluttered, then opened to see who it was that spoke her name. She paled as she registered his appearance. His every day uniform of black jeans and a dark shirt were now destroyed, covered in a mix of blood and ashes. A huge tear was ripped into his shirt, revealing the still bleeding wound beneath it. Another cut, above his right eye, continued to bleed as well. They were healing slowly. The combination of Angel’s vampire ‘game face’ and the other injuries he suffered made recognizing him difficult, but as he watched her, his human face returned. The injured man shook unsteadily as he sat down next to her. “What are you doing here? Is it Buffy?”
Willow shook her head. “Buffy’s okay,” she assured him. The Slayerettes never usually approached their vampire friend unless it had to do with life or death situations, or Buffy. Although the two decided to ‘just be friends’, she knew Angel would always love the Slayer, and vice versa. That theory was evident through Angel’s tone of voice. “What happened to you?” she asked softly. His head fell back against the cushion.
“Where do I begin?” he said, not really to Willow, but more to himself. He closed his eyes.
“Just tell me,” she urged. He could hear the concern in her words, but he couldn’t tell her. He inhaled deeply, his eyes and mouth still closed. “Angel…” She didn’t know what to say. He turned to her, his eyes begging her not to ask questions. “No. I want to-I have to know what happened.” Still he said nothing. It was getting frustrating, but she waited for him to speak.
“Drusilla’s dead,” he said in his typical ‘Cryptic Guy’ way, as if that explained everything. Then he stood up and ran his hand over his dark, disheveled hair. “Willow, it’s late. I’ll walk you home.”
She stared at him, determined to get answers. “Resolve face,” she said as she pointed to her expression of persistence. It meant that she was not going to be taking no for an answer. Unfortunately, Angel was not around her enough to appreciate the value of that expression. Because of this, he merely stared back at her. Willow punched the arm of the couch in frustration. “Angel! When are you going to get it through your head that we’re your friends? You don’t have to play ‘Cryptic Guy’ every time something bad happens!”
At the mention of the word ‘friends’, he turned away and walked to the fireplace. Her anger faded as she watched his action. His eyes danced as he watched the flames burning within. Then he began, “I was attacked when I was walking through the cemetery, a bunch of Spike’s boys. They took me to the old warehouse. She was there. She was crazy-she was Dru. She kept telling me she wanted her Angelus back, and I couldn’t be that person again, Willow. I fought them all until it was only us.”
Black eyes closed painfully as Angel recalled the night’s events. As he spoke, he could feel her eyes burning into him. He had never spoken so much to a person he barely knew. But somehow this young girl had him talking. Her very being almost demanded it. He turned his gaze to settle on the eyes of his confidante. They were open wide, her mouth set in a thin line of apprehension. Still, she said nothing, only waited for him to continue. His vision clouded with blood-tears, and he was forced to turn away from her. His next statement was barely audible, “I killed her. I made her who she was, and then I killed her for it.”
“Angel, you can’t blame yourself for what Angelus did to her,” she said softly. He sat on the stoop in front of the fireplace and hid his face in his hands.
“Angelus and I are the same-” he was cut off by her harsh reply.
“No.” She said, standing up. She stalked over to him and took his chin in her hand, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “What if I won’t let you take the blame, huh? What if I say you aren’t responsible?” she asked, her voice raising in volume and strength as she continued, “I can’t let you feel guilty because the world is short one less creature like Drusilla. Do you know all the horrible things she did? You should give yourself a pat on the back!” Willow stopped and searched his face. She frowned when she saw she made no effect on him. Then she dropped to her knees so she was eye-level with him. His eyes were empty as he stared past her shoulder. “So I’m not the worlds’ best motivational speaker,” she mumbled, her voice softening, “but Angel, you did what you had to do.”
Angel looked over at her harshly. He wanted to say something to make her leave, but stopped when he saw her. Willow never said so much to him before. The redhead was different, yet the same person; he noticed that now. He could see the pain behind her eyes, pain that he caused; yet he couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know how to feel,” he whispered.
Slowly, cautiously, Willow took his hands in hers. Her eyes never left his face. “I’m your friend, Angel. What are you afraid of?”
Angel stared at the hands he held in his with a bit of surprise. When the gypsy curse giving Angel his soul was revoked, he devoted his time to destroying Buffy and her friends. He used their friendship against them, and Buffy’s inability to kill him against her. Despite this, Willow would not give up on him, trying to find a way to restore the curse. In the end, the soulless Angelus invoked a demon to suck the world into Hell. Buffy used his blood to stop it and sent him and the demon to Hell instead. Willow still did not give up. She studied and researched to find a way to bring him back, eventually succeeding. Still, in all the time he had known Willow, she had never shown any kind of physical affection towards him. But now she tried to prove how much she did care with this little gesture that meant so much to him. Her hands were so fragile and small in his. He glanced up into her unmoving gaze and saw the concern that still lurked beneath the surface.
“Willow, I-“ His confession was cut short as the mansions’ double doors burst open. They both let go of each other’s hands and stood facing their enemy.
“Don’t let me interrupt.” Sarcasm and a British accent dripped from the intruder’s lips. He slipped out of his leather duster, revealing a red button-up shirt and black pants, and casually walked over to them. He ran his hand through peroxided-blond hair and smiled, revealing sharp fangs. “No, I take that back. Let me.”
At his final words, a cadre of vampires entered the room and began to attack Angel and the seemingly innocent Willow. Angel’s hands were full as he fought them off, and even if Willow wasn’t too frightened to fight, she knew they were no competition for the group.
Spikes turned his cold blue eyes to her and winked. “Hello, cutie,” he said
Willow ignored her desire to rip the smirk from his face as she remembered her mission. “Angel! Get out of here! Find Buffy!” She saw his chin jut out in understanding before she received a sharp blow on the back of her head. The pain hit immediately and she succumbed to the peaceful unconsciousness.
* * *
Buffy sat down on a headstone in the Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery and started whistling. She listened to the radio before she left her house and now the last song she heard was stuck in her head. Still whistling, she glanced down at her nails and frowned.
The Slayer glanced around herself and sighed. She couldn’t stop thinking about her conversation with Willow. No matter how many times she tried to forget it, she couldn’t. Even that damned song didn’t help. Buffy knew what it was like to be ‘The Chosen One’. She knew how stressful it was to try and sleep at night when the weight of the world rested firmly on her shoulders, or to go to school when she was up the previous night saving the world from total destruction. Most of all, she knew it was a burden she didn’t want to share with her best friend.
Buffy suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, startling her enough to knock her off balance. She landed hard on her back and groaned.
“What, do I need to tie a bell to your collar?” She rubbed the back of her head and glanced up at her visitor. The Slayer was about to scold him, but froze when she saw the look on his face. His eyes were wide with panic, his clothes rumpled as if he ran to find her. She gave him a questioning look.
“He got her, Buffy,” Angel said. “Spike got Willow.”
Buffy closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the dirt. It was going to be a long night.
The phone shrilled loudly throughout the Harris household. Xander pulled the pillow off his head and growled at the ceiling. He had tried everything to stop it from waking him, including telling it to go away. Nothing worked, except maybe answering, which he really didn’t want to do. His parents had left for the weekend on a second honeymoon, leaving him to play answering machine. It didn’t occur to Xander that someone might have a good reason for calling him so late.
He shuddered at the thought of doing more research. To avoid such a horrible experience, Xander did the only thing that seemed logical to him at the moment. He reached over, turned the ringer off, and went back to sleep.
Cordelia’s bedroom was blanketed in darkness, but she could still see the black outline of her cell phone clearly. It was an empty threat, but Cordy hoped it would work. She tried willing the phone to ring. It sat on her nightstand and refused to comply, mocking her with its silence. He obviously didn’t hear her. For about the millionth time that night, she moaned in frustration.
“Why can’t we just be happy, already?” she asked the ceiling in despair.
They got in another fight. It seemed like that’s all they were doing. This time, Cordelia accused Xander of flirting with Willow in the library. He, of course, denied it and accused her of being jealous. Tears of frustration threatened to spill, and she buried her face in the pillow. “Call, Xander, please. Tell me it’s going to be all right. Tell me you understand,” she begged through the pillow.
Cordy hated moments like these. She especially hated the crying, which she happened to do really well. A huge chunk of her life was spent trying to prevent both the moments and the crying. Suddenly the phone shrilled obnoxiously, jerking the brunette from her thoughts. She answered in record time.
“Xander?” she asked hopefully.
“Buffy,” responded the voice on the other end. Cordy felt a wave of disappointment. It was a selfish thought, and she immediately pushed it from her mind. It was unfair to think that she had anything to do with their fight, but it stemmed from a history of bad Slayer-related experiences.
First there was Buffy, whom Xander still had fuzzy feeling for, no matter how much he denied it. Then there was Kendra. That girl just oozed with bad luck. Finally, there was Faith. After her and Xander’s break up, he and Faith did a whole lot more than make with the smoochies. It took Cordy a long time to get over that. She tried to move on with Wesley, Faith’s Watcher. That just made her realize that she actually loved Xander. Then Buffy ended her ‘alliance’ with the Watcher’s Council and Wesley left for home. Fortunately, Xander came to her in her time of woe and all was forgotten.
Buffy’s voice pulled her back to reality. “Cordelia, I need your help.”
Cordy was about to protest when she caught the urgency in Buffy’s voice. To be sure it was, she asked, “What’s going on?”
“Willow’s been kidnapped by Spike. We’re meeting at the library. Can you come in?”
“Kidnapped?” she repeated softly.
Once again, Buffy interrupted her thoughts. “By the way, I couldn’t get a hold of Xander. Can you stop by his house on the way here?”
She cringed. “We’re kind of not talking right now, but I guess if it’s an emergency…”
“It is!” Buffy interrupted.
Cordy sighed, “Well. I guess I can, then.”
“Great, bye!” The phone clicked in her ear as Buffy hung up.
Ten minutes later found Cordelia on Xander’s doorstep. She knew Xander’s parents were gone for the weekend, but she felt uncomfortable knocking on his door so late. Especially after the night they had. With that, she swallowed what was left of her pride and knocked on the door.
Willow’s heightened senses awoke long before she herself did. Her eyes remained closed as she slowly regained consciousness. The first thing she noticed was the faint smell of smoke. There was a particular odor within the smoke that she could not place. She assumed that meant her mother was burning breakfast and shrugged it off. Her mother never was a good cook. The second thing she noticed was the cold, hard surface on which she lay. “Fell off the bed again,” she mumbled to herself. She didn’t stop to think that her bedroom floor was carpeted. As a result, it was the final thing she noticed that caused her to sit up straight and her eyes to snap open. She heard a man’s chuckle.
The redhead looked around, only to discover that her heightened senses were anything but. The hard surface on which she lay was that of a cell the size of a closet. Cordelia’s closet, but a closet, none the less. Bars were wrapped around the tiny space, coated with dust and grime. The scent of smoke was not that of her mother’s cooking, but of something completely different. It was coming from the cigarette dangling dangerously from between the lips of her enemy. He chuckled again when he saw the realization dawning on her face.
“Not exactly home sweet home, is it pet?” Spike stood within the cage, as if daring the young girl to attack him. She did nothing, trying to analyze the situation instead.
Finally, she spoke. Her throat was dry, her voice cracking, “What am I doing here?”
“I got bored,” he began casually, “so I went to kill Angel. But then I saw you, and decided torture would be much more rewarding.”
Willow stared up at him from her position on the floor with blatant hatred. Spike grin faded as he took in her gaze. She knew she sent out those ‘I’m a Slayer so come and get it’ vibes. They came with the job. Spike, on the other hand, was probably not expecting them. He most likely assumed she would be afraid of him. Nervously, she watched him light another cigarette and walk around her as he spoke. “It seems you’ve already figured me out. I’d like to say that I have some big plan that involves the end of the world, but it’s plain old-fashioned revenge. Angelus killed my love. And I can’t seem to get a hold of the Slayer, so I guess I’m going to have to settle for second best.”
“Second best? Yeah, I guess you’d know a lot about that,” she retorted, shocking herself with the comeback. Suddenly, Willow remembered what happened when Faith and the mayor kidnapped her. She had some good retorts against Faith, and they almost got her killed. Immediately she snapped her mouth shut and they stared at each other in silence. “Did that just come out of my mouth?” she mumbled. Willow knew she shouldn’t have taken such a cheap shot, especially knowing what it was like to be in competition for a loved one’s affections. Spike’s eyes lost their humorous spark and turned cold.
Spike shook it off angrily, “Aren’t we feisty, Red? You should really learn when to shut up.” He continued to circle her and watched as she raised an eyebrow.
“Hasn’t helped me so far. Why stop now?” she mumbled. Surprised, she clamped a hand over her own mouth.
He stopped circling and crouched at her side. His eyes sparkled and the grin returned. “Feisty redheads make good vampires,” he taunted. But instead of rousing sparks from within her green eyes, Spike managed to alleviate it. They went flat as she considered his statement.
“I’d kill myself first.”
“Pity you feel that way, love. You’d ruin my fun,” he said, sounding a little disappointed. Then he brightened and said, “Don’t worry, you dying would foil my plans. We need her for now, don’t we Princess?” Willow was about to ask what she was needed for when she realized he was talking to someone else. His cold blue eyes were focused on the doorway. She followed his adoring gaze.
Then she blanched. Drusilla stood there, wearing a dress of white satin and lace that fell to the floor. She had a cascade of dark curls, and eyes that were even darker. A cruel smile played on her lips as she spoke.
“Miss Edith wants to play.”
Buffy sighed impatiently and glared at the clock. It was nearly 4 a.m., her best friend was missing, and all she could do was sit in the damned library and wait for the cavalry to arrive. She went to Willow’s house after patrol only to find it was empty. She was hoping that her friend was out somewhere. In fact, the blond was on her way home to call around when she ran into Angel. He told her what happened, and they raced to the library, where they planned to meet the other Slayerettes before crashing Spike’s hideout. Cordelia and Xander were on their way, as well as Oz. Giles was fast asleep at his home on the outskirts of town. It would take him a little longer to arrive.
“Buffy, we’ll get her back,” Angel said calmly, interrupting her thoughts. Buffy nodded at his statement, anger flashing within her eyes. He sat and silently watched the fury build up inside her as they waited for her friends. She knew her head was supposed to be clear. Giles constantly told the Slayer that she shouldn't let her emotions affect her judgement, and more importantly, Buffy told herself the same thing numerous times. She appreciated that Angel didn’t.
“I know we will,” she said, both confident and furious, “and if we don’t, Spike will wish I killed him.”
At that very moment, Xander burst into the library, followed closely by Cordelia and Oz. They all looked to be in terrible shape. Oz normally showed indifference towards everything, but he was visibly shaken up at the disappearance of his girlfriend. Cordelia, despite herself, looked worried for the girl she once called a loser. At the moment, she eyed the actions of her boyfriend wearily. Xander stood before them with rumpled clothes and a really bad attitude. He also looked ready to snap. “Where is he? I’m gonna kill him. Just give me a stake and show me the way to go,” said Xander, determined.
Angel responded before the rest of them had a chance, “Now is not the time to act irrationally.”
"Irrational? Dead boy wants to talk to me about irrational?" Xander's eyes flashed dangerously as he turned his fury towards the vampire before him. "Willow’s locked up somewhere with two psychotic vampires who also happen to be your ex-best friends. You want to talk rational, you need to be somewhere that's not the Hellmouth.”
“Xander, listen to me very closely. You don’t know what you’re doing. Your judgement is a little wigged right now. You go in there, and you’ll get yourself killed,” Buffy said calmly and slowly, hoping it would make him relax. No such luck.
“She’s right, Xand,” Cordelia piped in softly. He turned to her angrily.
“After everything that’s happened today, you still wanna pick a fight with me? Forget it, I don’t care if you’re a girl. Throw down!” he retorted.
“I’ve seen you fight, Harris. You think I can’t take you?” Cordy replied huffily. Before he could respond, she continued, “I’ve been kicking your ass all day long and I’m not gonna stop until you stop being such a whiny baby and start acting like you care about something other than your damned ego.”
“Something other than my ego? My best friend is kidnapped and you think I’m worried about my ego?” Xander appeared hurt by his girlfriend’s comments. To hide it, he lashed out at her, “I'm sorry, great Ice Queen, I forgot that the world revolves around you!”
Cordelia glared at him angrily, but Buffy could tell it was just a mask. She didn’t like saying those things to Xander any more than he wanted to hear them, but they had to be said. Xander needed to calm down. She decided to do Cordy a favor and end the conversation. “That’s enough,” she cut in roughly. All eyes turned to her as she continued. "We need to start focusing on the problem and stop attacking each other. It’s getting us nowhere. Giles should be here shortly, but until he is, I’m in charge. Xander, get into the weapons closet and grab a couple of stakes. Make sure they’re sharp--I plan on using them. Cordelia, Angel, go into Giles’ office and find his file on Spike and the Watcher Diaries that have him in them. We need to be prepared. ” Xander saluted Buffy and Angel followed Cordelia into Giles’ office.
Oz looked at her expectantly. “What do you want me to do?”
“Help me figure out a plan.” “But you died!” Willow accused, her eyes widening in shock. “You- you’re a GHOST?”
Once again, Spike chuckled at her reaction. Despite her fear, Willow glared up at him.
“You’re right, Pet. I’m having too much fun. It’s time to fulfill Dru’s dying wish,” Spike said in mock sincerity, then smiled wickedly. He looked up at Dru. “Would you like to tell her what that is, love?”
Drusilla began dancing, spinning in graceful circles until she was almost in front of Willow. She crouched next to her and clucked her tongue. “Miss Edith talked to me. She says you’ve been a very bad little girl, playing with the powers of light and darkness. You’re going to help us get Daddy and the Slayer," she sang. Then her eyes narrowed as she looked deep into Willow's eyes. "You're going to send them to Hell."
Willow stared back at her in horror. “No. I won’t help you. You can’t make me help you.”
“Yes we can. And we will.” Spike said. Then his expression shifted into one of mock concern. “By the way, how is your mate, Xander, doing right now? I hear he got the bloody hell beat out of him.”
“What are you saying?” Willow asked carefully, her gaze still pinned on the psycho-vamp before her. She misunderstood the reason for the change in conversation.
“What I’m saying, my pet, is that some people find pain… very inspirational. Especially when it happens to the people they love.”
Willow immediately understood. The world started spinning as she imagined every possible scenario in her head. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears she felt coming. They flowed freely down her cheeks as she pictured Xander being attacked. Once again, Spike found her weakness. “Don’t,” she whispered. She opened her eyes, silently pleading with the vampire.
Spike’s smile became cruel as he inched his face closer to her, and she could almost feel his cold breath on her cheek. “Yeah, that’ll work. Now say ‘pretty please’ and I might consider it.” He stood up and walked out of the room. Moments later Spike returned carrying an ancient looking book. He opened it up and set it down next to the now-sobbing Willow, pointing at one of the pages. “Read. That’s all you have to do. Cast the spell, and your little friends get to live... for a while.”
Willow sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. Choking back sobs, she scanned the page. It was written in Latin, a language she knew well after years of studying it in school. Realization struck. Instantly, her emotions switched from desperately woeful to pissed off. She closed her eyes and hoped to them, it would look like she was preparing to chant.
She slowly opened her eyes and began to chant the words laid out before her; “Gods and Goddesses, hear my plea. Open thy gate to the world of magic...” As she continued to read the pages, cold wind whipped around her. A bright light enveloped her, growing brighter until she couldn’t see. She stood. The mixture of dust and wind swirled like a funnel around her, red hair lashing her face like a whip. Still, she continued, speaking louder and louder until at last she was shouting. Her arms were held high, her feet planted firmly on the ground. Suddenly, it stopped, and everything was calm. Willow could feel her knees giving out on her and she cried out. Strong arms caught her as she collapsed in exhaustion.
The spell was finished.
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Cordelia walked into the office grumbling. She glanced back at Angel. “Can you believe that just happened?” she asked.
“Yes,” he responded. Not as much conversation as she would have liked, but it was a start. He walked over to the cabinet filled with Watcher Diaries. She began her search of the filing cabinet, talking as she looked.
“I mean, Xander thinks he can get away with everything ‘cause he’s a guy. So what? Does he have to walk around wearing short skirts and heels? No. And it’s not like he has P.M.S. to deal with, is it? That’s another no. Well, let me tell you something, I don’t care who he thinks he is, he can just…” She broke off uncomfortably. Angel was staring at her. “What?”
He shrugged and held up the tattered and torn Watcher Diaries, his part of the search. “Oh,” she said. Then she reached down and pulled out the file labeled ‘William the Bloody, a.k.a. Spike’.
She straightened and looked at the door. From her position in the room, she could see Xander walking towards the table where Buffy and Oz were seated. They all appeared deep in conversation, the previous outburst forgotten. A feeling of dread washed over her. She really didn’t want to face Xander at that moment. “Just breathe,” she said under her breath, hoping Angel didn’t hear her. He did. His eyes filled with understanding and he nodded encouragingly. She glared at him in return.
Cordelia was about to enter the library when out of nowhere, a bright light filled the room. “What-?” she began. Wind followed, so strong it almost knocked them over. Cordelia grabbed Angel’s arm to steady herself. She looked over to him only to see that his expression of confusion matched her own. He said something, but the light got brighter and the wind blew harder, so she couldn’t see nor hear him. It was hard enough just to stand. The file was forgotten and she clutched his arm with both hands, as if it were her lifeline to safety. She screamed, but the sound was lost in the surrounding chaos. Suddenly the world went black.
Buffy pressed on her temples and frowned. “Oz, we really don’t have the element of surprise. If we just bust in there, Spike’ll be all, ‘Gee, about time you guys showed up’. Then he’ll have us right where he wants us.”
“We’re kinda running out of options here.” Oz said. He had run a lot of ideas past Buffy, but she turned down every one he came up with.
“I know. What if we do something wrong and he kills Willow? Then what?” Buffy asked rhetorically. Then she rubbed her temples in frustration. “Great, now I have a migraine,” she mumbled. Normally, Buffy would be gung ho about busting in on Spike, but the addition of Willow into the equation really threw her off. As he walked towards them, Xander could see she was exhausted. Bags formed under her eyes, and she was more cranky and worried than she usually would be.
“If that was his plan, then she’d be dead already. I think he has an ulterior motive,” said Oz.
“A what?” Xander asked as he dropped the stakes onto the table. He pulled up a chair next to Buffy and sat down at the long table. It was obvious to him that neither of them had any ideas on how to get Willow back in one piece. The Slayerette felt his hope begin to fade. He would do anything to protect Willow, even if it meant risking his life to save her. But that would be a problem if he couldn’t get to her.
“An ulterior motive,” Oz repeated, then continued. “I think he has a reason for picking Willow, but I don’t think it’s the Slayer thing. That wasn’t really planned. Maybe it has to do with magic. He kidnapped her for that before.” Oz frowned at the memories of that adventure. Xander shifted uncomfortably in his seat. That night was the same night Cordy and Oz caught him and Willow smooching.
“What could he possibly want Willow to do?” Xander asked quickly, trying to change the subject. Suddenly, a bright white light appeared before them and a chilling wind entered the room. Xander frowned. Then he watched in awe as the winds grew stronger. Books were being caught by the gusts, their pages flying around. “I’m just gonna go ahead and pretend I didn’t say that,” he muttered. Strangely, the trio seemed to be in some kind of a protective circle. The chaos gained force around them, but none of them were affected. Still, Buffy’s hand rested protectively on his shoulder as they watched a funnel form around them. Suddenly, the light flashed brighter than ever, then darkness surrounded them.
“C’mon, wake up,” Spike urged.
The voice echoed painfully in Willow’s head and she groaned. “Noise bad,” she mumbled. “Go ‘way.” It didn’t work. The noise repeated, this time sounding angrier. She tried to ignore it, but the speaker was growling menacingly. She opened her eyes slowly. A very pissed off Spike stomped towards her, complete with game face. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the image would go away.
No such luck.
“Bloody hell, girl. What have you done?” he snarled. She remained silent, afraid anything she said would result in death. She repeated the mantra in her head, hoping he would catch the ‘leave me alone’ vibes she sent his way. “I’m not going to kill you… yet. You got me in this mess, you better believe you’re going to get me out of it,” Spike continued irritably. “I’m not going anywhere,” he contradicted.
“Argh!” she cried out in frustration. Her eyes popped open and she glared at the vampire before her. “Can’t I keep any thoughts to myself?” The look he gave her in response was amused, to say the least. Willow wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he was thinking.
Her frustration faded and she watched him nervously as his expression firmed. “What did you do?” Spike asked her sternly.
This time, Willow could not avoid the question. She sat up slowly, her head still spinning from the spell casting. Her heart raced within her chest as she contemplated the idea of telling a lie. < I can’t do that. I’m a horrible liar. He would totally see right through that. > She decided to tell him the truth. “I didn’t send them to Hell,” she said quietly. Spike scowled at her, insisting that she continue. “I sent them to the Land of Magick,” she added, then continued sheepishly, “and I sorta brought us with.”
“And why did you do that?” he asked slowly. His hands shook and she could see he was trying not to go ballistic on her.
She hesitated, then said, “Well, I read the spell and saw that it would send them to Hell. I can’t do that to Buffy and Angel, especially for a psychotic vampire and his ghostly girlfriend. So, instead, I sent them to the Land of Magick, where they would be much safer and easier to retrieve. I sent myself as well, ‘cause it’s impossible for me to get them to Sunnydale unless I’m here, too. I don’t know why you’re here. Only the three of us were…” Willow stopped when she realized she was babbling. Her gaze traveled from the floor up into the cold blue eyes of the vampire before her. She couldn’t read the emotion in those eyes, but it didn’t look good.
His next words came out slow and controlled, “You fainted. I caught you. Is that why I’m here?”
Willow considered his question, then nodded. “Yes. If one person physically contacts the person on which the spell was cast, he or she will also travel the dimension.”
“Translation?” Spike asked impatiently.
“I cast, you touch, then poof--Welcome to another dimension.”
When Xander opened his eyes, he was alone. Groggy, he sat up and looked around him. “Woah, Dorothy,” he whispered in shock, “where’s Kansas?”
He sat on a path in the middle of a field. Flowers of all colors surrounded him, and they appeared to sway in a breeze he couldn’t feel. One end of the path led into a forest. Only it wasn’t your average bunch of trees. They towered over the field into heights unknown, the full extent hidden by the cluster of bright fluffy clouds that surrounded them. Xander stared into the forest, sure he heard singing from that direction. Then his eyes followed the path the other direction. At the other end of the path was a fork. Literally. Buffy was bent over the piece of silverware, trying to pull it from the ground.
“Buffy!” he called out. The Slayer stopped her struggle with the fork and turned to him. She gave him a nod in recognition, and walked over to the Slayerette. When she reached him, he said, “Hey, Buff, I don’t know where we are, but something’s bugging me. See these flowers?” he asked, and gestured to the field around them. “They’re dancing. See those trees?” His hand waved vaguely toward the clump of trees as he continued, his voice rising with hysteria, “they’re singing. We are definitely not in the library. And this,” he said, waving his hands frantically at both sides, “is not Sunnydale! I’m going to go ahead and say this isn’t good. I’ll even go out on a limb and say it’s really, really bad!”
Buffy watched him rant with incredible patience, waiting for him to finish. He could see her eyes didn’t’ have that ‘I’m gonna solve the problem and kick some butt’ look that gave him hope. “Lie to me, Xander,” she commanded softly. “Please, because I don’t know what’s going on right now.”
He paused, trying to think of a response. Then he looked her straight in the eyes and said, “This is all a dream. In reality, you’re passed out on some musty old book, trying to find the latest prophecy. Can’t you just smell the mold? Hey, get up. Giles is talking to you.”
“Liar,” she accused. She smiled faintly, looking a little better, then spoke again. “While you were asleep, I took a look around. This place is really weird. I’m not sure we’re even on Earth anymore.”
“So how do we make it go away?” he asked as he pulled his foot away from a pink, dancing flower. He frowned when he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. She said nothing, so he made an assumption. “We’re stuck here?”
The determination returned to Buffy’s eyes. “I don’t know, Xander. But I’m not about to wait around until we find out. First, we have to find out where the hell we are. Then maybe we can figure out the rest.” She looked around herself until she saw a road made of golden bricks. She pointed it out to Xander.
“Why feel like I’m in Oz?” he asked to no one in particular. Buffy smiled at the reference to her favorite movie and began walking down the yellow brick road.
“C’mon, Toto,” she called behind her. Xander followed, trying to catch up when he suddenly grabbed her arm. She halted to a stop and turned to Xander’s panicked face.
“Buffy? Where IS Oz?”
Oz stood up and looked at the spot next to the table where Xander and Buffy had been previously sitting. “Wow,” he murmured softly as he looked around the room. The place looked like a tornado ripped through it. Technically, one had. The part-time werewolf ran a hand through his temporarily red hair and surveyed the damage. Some of the bookcases fell over due to the harsh winds, their contents spilled unceremoniously onto the floor. Books and pages were scattered around the room, blanketing the floor with thousands of ripped-out pages. Oz bent over to retrieve a book titled, “Cults and Mysticism of the 17th Century” when he heard the doors to the library open. He straightened and glanced back to see a startled Giles standing in the doorway. “Hey,” he greeted calmly.
“Oz, What happened here? Where is everyone?”
“They’re gone,” Oz replied simply.
Quoting Buffy, Giles said, “Can you vague that up for me, please?”
The part-time werewolf smiled, slightly amused after hearing Giles use such ‘slayer speak’. Then he explained, “There was a bright light. Buffy and Xander disappeared with it.” He bent over and picked up another book and continued, “Cordelia and Angel are in your office.”
“Out of nowhere, the Slayer and her friend just up and vanished?”
Still confused, the librarian walked quickly towards his office and looked in. Muttering some Latin profanity under his breath, he turned back to Oz and shook his head. “I’m afraid they are missing as well.” Oz stared blankly at Giles, waiting for his guidance.
“Well, this wasn’t in the Codex,” he stated. Oz said nothing. “I’ll have to consult my books,” the librarian mumbled, more to himself than to the boy before him. “There has to be some explanation to this.” He scratched his head, then walked into his office and began to pick up folders and loose papers that were lying on the floor.
Oz shook his head and pulled himself to his feet. “Doubt it,” he responded softly. It wasn’t often that Giles was confused. Whenever they were stuck in some new predicament or facing some monster, Giles would jump on it with some aforementioned prophecy. This time, the Watcher didn’t even know what happened after the fact. That terrified Oz, which to him was the equivalent of slightly nervous. He shrugged it off and followed Giles into the office.
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Cordelia opened her eyes slowly, only to find herself blinded by a very bright light. “Ugh.” She threw her arm over her head and tried to block it out. “Where am I?” she muttered to herself.
“The Land of Magick.” The voice answered back. Cordelia frowned. “Xander?” she asked, confused.
“Cordelia, open your eyes,” the voice commanded. Not one to argue with voices from above, Cordelia complied. She looked up, squinting past the bright light, to see Angel staring down at her. His appearance was different to her, but she couldn’t figure out why. She sat up, propping herself onto her elbows, and inspected him.
Superficially, Angel was the same as always. He was adorned in the black clothing that was his signature, and his dark eyes still contained that unmistakable gleam of sadness and guilt that only a soul-filled vampire such as him could possess. Yet the rest of his expression was not so hauntingly sinister--for the first time since she met him, he was smiling. It made his whole face light up. She was about to comment on the difference the smile made, when she realized what it really was that made him look so different. It was the light above him that shone warmly upon the two. It was sunlight.
Cordelia found herself incredibly confused. “What happened? I thought you guys turned to dust when sunlight hit you.”
Angel’s smile faded as his expression became more serious. “Vampires do. But evil is not allowed access here. My demon was not allowed to enter. For now, I’m as human as you.” When he said the last sentence, he reached a hand down to help her up.
“That’s great, Angel,” Cordy responded in exaggerated cheerfulness. She didn’t understand how he was still alive without his demon, but chalked it up to good old-fashioned magic. She took his hand and pulled herself to her feet. Her smile disappeared to be replaced with her usual look of annoyance. “Only one problem,” she said as she began dusting herself off.
“What’s that?”
The Slayerette’s eyes turned from her crumpled clothes to the vampire before her. “We’re still in another dimension. We have no idea where everyone else is. We don’t know how we got here. We don’t know how to get out of here. And on top of that, my clothes are wrinkled and my hair is never going to recover from this climate change!” Finished, she crossed her arms and proceeded to pout.
Angel shook his head and sighed. “That’s more than one problem,” he pointed out, then looked around
* * *
them. Realizing that his attention was focused elsewhere, Cordelia did the same. They seemed to be standing on an oasis of sorts. The circular patch of land was a mile-wide, flat and sandy, then sank into a vast body of crystal clear water. It stretched for what seemed like an eternity then appeared to melt into the sky. It was like that all around, except for one side that collided with a towering mountain range. A castle sat on top of its highest peak.
“So is that our destination?” Cordelia asked, her eyes still pinned to the castle. In the corner of her eye, she could see a gold path begin to form from the edge of the sand, curling its way up the mountain, heading towards the castle.
“My instincts tell me yes,” he replied sardonically.
Cordelia didn’t catch his sarcasm and couldn’t see where he looked. Therefore, his statement confused her immediately. “I thought you lost your instincts with the vampire thingy,” she said with a puzzled expression.
Angel shook his head again and grinned at her baffled observation. “Let’s go.”
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Rupert Giles rubbed his eyes tiredly and glanced out the window. The golden rays of the sun began to peek from behind the horizon. It seemed like days since he began his search for information about their disappearance, but it was in fact only hours. He had looked through every book he owned that pertained to Magick, and could not find anything relating to what happened the previous night. Oz, too, helped with the search. He was no Willow, but he searched the Internet the best he could and found no clues. According to all research, there were no magical occurrences that involved the sudden disappearance of people into thin air, or any with bright lights and gusty winds.
Giles was at the end of a very short rope. He had run out of options, and desperation became a factor. As much as he hated to admit it, he had absolutely no idea what to do. The fatigued Watcher let his forehead fall against his desktop as he silently prayed for a miracle.
It was that precise moment that he heard the female voice coming from the other room reply, “Someone called for me?”
Giles quickly jumped to his feet and raced into the main room of the library. His eyes darted around frantically in search of the voice’s owner. They rested on the face of a blond girl standing before him. He remembered seeing her previously, and wondered why she was there. Suddenly, he remembered his other job. “Yes?” he inquired politely, “Can I help you?”
She smiled uncertainly at the librarian’s actions and waved a small square of yellow paper in the air. “Seems I have overdue books,” she said. As Giles racked his brain to remember her, she handed him the answer to his problems. In her hands she held two books, entitled ‘Magical Spells and Hexes’ and ‘Inter-dimensional Travel for Beginners’. The knowledge flashed off in his head like a light bulb.
“You are Amy Madison, correct?” he asked. She nodded slowly in response and glanced around cautiously. “I need your help.”
Amy’s eyes widened in surprise. She backed up a few steps and shook her head. “Nuh-uh. No way. The last few times I got mixed up with you people, I hexed myself into falling in love with Xander, almost got burned at the stake and was stuck as a rat for months. There’s no way I’m going to risk any of that again, no matter what you say to me.”
The librarian’s voice was strained by the weariness of his all-nighter as he said, “Willow cast a spell that made all of her friends disappear. I don’t know what it is or where they may be, and I have no idea how to retrieve them once I do. The only thing I’m sure of is the whole lot of them could be in grave danger.”
When he finished talking, he looked to Amy for her reaction. Her eyes were closed and she sighed. “What do I have to do?” she asked, resigned. Despite his terrible night and the disappearance of Buffy and his friends, Giles felt hopeful.
Upon examination of her surroundings, Willow found herself to be in a very small but quaint one-room cottage. It was sparsely furnished with a bed on one wall and two wooden chairs against another. When she awoke, she was lying on the bed. She remained seated there, trying to talk sense into a raging vampire. Unfortunately, talking logic to Spike was like telling Cordelia that spandex would always be in style. Frustrated beyond her endless supply of patience, she crossed her arms and sighed. “I can’t just send us back because you want me to.”
Spike’s voice rose in anger as he retorted, “You can’t! Why not?” He paused dramatically to take an unneeded breath, then said, “I’m not really the patient sort of bloke. And when I lose my patience, I get very angry. Then I start ripping heads off.” The inner Willow, the one that wasn’t a Slayer, cringed at his threat and tried to avoid his angry gaze. She couldn’t help it, she spent her entire life being both mentally and physically too weak to fight. Now that she could, she didn’t know how. Even her thoughts betrayed her newfound strength. Instead of responding to his threat, she focused her attention on a ladybug that worked its way across the floor. Spike grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her quickly to her feet. “Well, say something!”
“Ow!” she cried out, easily jerking her arm free from his grasp. This time, the pain awoke her Slayer instincts. Incensed, she stood face to face with the furious vampire and glared into his eyes. She almost smiled at that thought, but she was too angry. They lingered in that position until she spit out slowly, “I can’t fix it that easily. It’s complicated.” Spike growled in exasperation and walked away to look at the scenery through the window. Her eyes were still pinned to him, trying to gauge his rapidly changing moods as well as her own. From the moment they came in contact, Willow found herself on emotional overdrive. She wondered if maybe she was having the same effect on him. This time, he looked nauseated.
“Everything’s so damned pretty,” he said with disgust. Then he looked over to Willow. She had stopped what she was doing and examined him with a puzzled look on her face. Then she began to giggle. “What?” he asked testily. Willow tried to respond, but her giggles advanced to hysterical laughter and she couldn’t stop long enough to answer. She pointed at him, but he still didn’t notice. She finally caught her breath and grinned up at him. “It just hit me. I didn’t see it before, but it just hit me.”
“What?” he asked again, frustration clearly shown on his face.
“You’re in sunlight! That’s why everything looks so different to you!” She grinned when she saw the realization dawn on his face. Spike looked around in shock for a moment, then down at his own living body. He was breathing again. It felt so natural to his now-human body that he didn’t even notice. The ex-vampire frowned as he took in Willow’s scrutinizing gaze.
“I need a cigarette,” he grumbled.
Willow was confused. “Aren’t you happy? You get to be human again.”
Spike seemed to know exactly where she was coming from. “Forget what those damned Anne Rice novels tell you. We like our gig, vampires do. I’ve been like this for over a hundred years and I loved every minute of it. Me and my demon are old chums! So stop trying to make me feel good about having it gone.” He patted his pockets, searching for his nicotine fix, but stopped when he caught Willow’s expression. She tilted her head to the side. Her sharp eyes were slightly closed yet she dissected his every move. “What?” he asked self-consciously.
“I…” Willow paused in her statement, trying to think of the right way to approach a response. She took a breath, then said, “I don’t believe you.” He furrowed his brows and looked away.
“So maybe I missed the sun a little. What of it?” he mumbled. Willow just laughed and shook her head.
“You can admit it. I won’t tell anyone.” The redhead didn’t wait for his response. Strangely, his newfound humanity made her feel a more comfortable around him. It meant that he was less likely to hurt her. Feeling more upbeat, she looked out the window in search for any sign of Buffy or Angel. From the window, she could tell the cottage sat alone on a mountainside. That was about it. Willow closed her eyes, mumbled a few Latin phrases, and mentally searched the area.
“So how do be get out of this hellhole?” Spike said, interrupting the silence. He eyed her uneasily when he saw her casting. “What are you doing?”
“Well, for one, I’m looking for Buffy and Angel. Second, I’m looking for the breach between both worlds.”
“A breach? Can’t you just say the words and send us back to Sunnyhell?”
Willow opened her eyes and turned to him. “I told you it was complicated. All that’s required to get into this world is a spell. To get back, we have to face whatever this world throws at us. I’m assuming there’s going to be a portal of some kind that will open the door to our world. But…” She cut herself off and looked off into the distance.
“But what?” he drawled.
“I’ve been wrong before,” she responded softly. He watched her in silence as she closed her eyes and proceeded to chant.
Hours later, Cordelia and Angel were still walking down the gold path. The sun was slowly descending behind the horizon. Nightfall would arrive soon, and Cordelia was not excited about discovering the beasties that resided in ‘Magick Land’. Even so, she needed to rest. They came to a narrow bridge and the brunette grabbed Angel’s arm, stopping him from walking. “Slow down, already. I can’t walk that fast in these shoes.” She gestured to the chunky heels she wore in anticipation of a research-filled evening. They weren’t exactly hiking material, and her painfully throbbing feet could vouch for that.
Angel looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I just want to find a way out of here before dark,” he said. Cordelia nodded in agreement, trying to massage the pain from her feet. Out of nowhere, she felt something grab her arm and she shrieked. The Slayerette immediately jumped away from the edge of the bridge, running into Angel.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Something touched me!” she cried out frantically and pointed to where she previously sat. He followed her finger and walked to the edge of the bridge. Below, he saw a figure standing. It was a short pudgy creature with the ugliest face he had ever seen. Cordelia crept up behind Angel and peered over his shoulder. “Well aren’t you Miss America,” she said disgustedly.
The creature snorted, “Not too bad yourself. I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re trespassing.” He pointed to a sign at his left that marked private property.
Angel raised his arms defensively; “We didn’t mean any harm. We just want to get across and find our friends.”
“Ha. Well you need to find another way. This bridge is off limits,” the troll informed them snidely. Cordy raised an eyebrow. She didn’t like anyone, especially nasty little trolls, telling her what she could and could not do. ‘Queen Cordelia’ stepped in front of Angel and haughtily flipped her hair over her shoulder.
“Off limits?” she scoffed. “What is this, one of those ‘Billy Goat Gruff’ thingies? Look here, Mister Ugly Troll person. I’ve been walking around all day long…in these shoes!” The brunette made a face as the troll grimaced in mock sympathy. It was a hideous sight. She proceeded, “We’re just trying to find a way around these stupid lakes. This is it, so why don’t you just crawl back under that dark hole you came from and let us pass.” She glared at him, one hand on her hip with a practiced look of impatience.
Angel grimaced at her tirade and grabbed her arm. “Making fun of him isn’t going to help us,” he hissed quietly to her. She rolled her eyes in response. Gently, Angel pulled her away from the troll’s line of vision. He gave the fuming troll his most charming smile and said, “Okay, so you don’t want to help us out of the goodness of your heart. Well, maybe we can come up with some sort of deal.” The troll’s eyes lit up with interest and he scratched his chin, trying to look nonchalant.
“Be specific,” Ugly replied. The wheeling and dealing on Angel’s part made Cordelia a little nervous, but she remained silent.
Angel walked over to the edge of the bridge and sat on its concrete guardrail. “We’ll do you a favor, then you can do us the favor of letting us cross.”
“And why would I do that?” came the troll’s response.
Cordelia crossed her arms and bit her lower lip to hold back a retort. She tilted her head questioning at Angel, who returned the look with a wink. Then he turned back to the troll and gave it the charming smile again. “Because we won’t leave you alone until you do,” he said, his words dripping with sugary sweetness. Cordy smirked. She didn’t spend too much time around Angel due to his famed talent for brooding and disappearing, so she never really got a chance to see him in action. The Slayerette immediately decided that Angel was a good guy to have around.
She reconsidered that thought upon seeing the troll’s eyes narrow dangerously. Still, Ugly said, “Okay, fine. You do me a favor, and I’ll let you cross.”
Buffy and Xander continued down the path for hours before they finally stopped to rest. The sun still shone brightly overhead, causing them to feel more exhausted. Buffy frowned as she looked at the castle. It seemed no matter how far they walked, they weren’t getting any closer.
“Are you okay, Xand?” She asked, glancing at her friend who sat against a tree. He looked drained, but shrugged indifferently and leaned back against the tree.
“I guess it would help if I had an idea where we were,” he replied.
“I know. But there’s got to be a good explanation. It has to do with Willow, I know that. I just wish I knew how.” She plopped down on the tree beside him and stretched out her legs. “And why us? Why didn’t Oz come with us? Why aren’t Angel and Cordelia here?” She rubbed her eyes and looked at Xander. He was looking at the flowers with fascination. The expression on his face made her forget her line of questioning. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously.
“Seeing how it feels to be crazy,” he said with a slight nod. Buffy laughed. As her friend, Xander always managed to cheer her up at the hardest times of her life. Of all the people she could have been stuck with, she was glad it was he. To most people Xander Harris was merely the class clown who thought more with his hormones than with his brain. The Slayer knew underneath that protective layer of sarcasm was a strong, intelligent, and loyal ally that had continuously proven he could hold his own and adjust to any given situation. She jumped to her feet and smiled encouragingly.
“So are you ready to continue? I know you’re tired, but the sooner we get there the better.” She reached down and pulled him to his feet. Xander wiped the dirt off his pants and looked up at Buffy. He froze and Buffy waved a hand in front of his face. “Xander. You still with me? What’s your problem?” It took her only seconds to realize that he was looking behind her. She turned slowly and saw what he was looking at.
Then she screamed.
Willow and Spike sat in the tiny cottage trying to look busy, only glancing at each other now and then. Spike felt somewhat lost. He had spent centuries being the evil creature that he was. He prided himself on his strength and reputation as a dangerous fiend. Now that it was all stripped away, he didn’t know who he was. The blond glanced at Willow, but turned away quickly when he caught her gaze. She frowned.
“Look, Spike, If we’re going to get out of here, we need to help each other. We obviously don’t have any trust. You’ve done too many bad things for me to do that. And you don’t trust me because right now I’m a lot stronger than you are. But in order to get anything accomplished, we need to make a truce.” When she finished talking, Spike stopped what he was doing and watched her, amused. She halted as well, and looked back at him to see the smirk on his face. “I really hate you,” she mumbled. Even without his extended vampire senses, Spike could hear her statement. It surprised him that even as a human he could get under her skin, but above that it was comical. He fought to keep from laughing, settling on a patronizing grin instead. Willow grimaced and said, “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay?”
She waited patiently as he thought over her proposal. Spike knew that she had the skills of a Slayer, which was why he chose her to do the spell. The girl could have killed him long ago, and he realized that as well. He couldn’t hurt her, especially as a human, and if he did he would never get home. It occurred to him that he needed her a lot more than she needed him. There really was no decision to make.
“Deal,” he said eventually. She held out her hand to him, prepared to shake on it. He stared at it blankly for a minute, then said, “Don’t trust my word, pet?”
“I don’t trust anything about you,” she said with complete honesty. “Hence the deal?” She looked into his eyes, then glanced down at her hand, waiting for him to take it.
“What makes you think that a little handshake is going to stop me from killing you?” he asked with a smirk. She grinned and raised an eyebrow. Her mysterious attitude was making the handshake all the more appealing.
“You’ll see,” she said and she gestured back down to her hand. He stared at it again, apprehensive. Spike didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him. Unfortunately, his curiosity won out. He reached for her hand, and Willow’s smile widened as she began to chant in Latin. Their hands touched and she grasped his tightly. Confused as to her sudden reaction, he tried to pull away and failed. Electricity ran from his palm to his heart, and for a moment he was frozen. Gold light radiated from their hands and surrounded them both. Then, as quickly as it had come, it faded away. He was finally able to pull his hand away.
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve sold my soul?” he asked rhetorically as he examined his hand. Spike’s living heart was beating frantically within his chest, and his head spun in reaction to the intensity of the moment.
“I’m no devil and you have no soul. All I did was guarantee you wouldn’t break our deal,” Willow responded. Then she shrugged and turned away from him to look out the window. She could see a beautiful view of the region below. She could also see that the sun was beginning to set. Darkness would bring out the creatures of the night, and they would not be safe on the path. “We’d be better off staying here for the night. We can find Buffy, Angel, and the breach tomorrow.”
“What the hell makes you think I’m going to take orders from you?” Spike asked defiantly. She turned slowly and looked at him with child-like twinkling eyes. Then she smiled.
“You kinda have to now, don’t ya? I threw in a couple extras on our deal. Guess I forgot to fill you in on that.” Her face turned innocent, and she batted her eyelashes at him mockingly. His emotions switched from confusion to anger. Spike realized he was angrier about being caught off guard than he was at the act itself. He thought Willow seemed to be the meek and innocent type, so he assumed she would accept his authority. He was wrong, and now he was the one accepting her lead and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
The fiery redhead turned and stood in front of him, laughing. “You didn’t really think you could win, did you?” He stared at her in shock. This was not the girl he kidnapped those many months ago. He didn’t know what happened to her in that short time, but she was different. The shy little girl from a while back would never stand before him like she did, her eyes glittering with a mixture of spirit and mischief. Yet underneath that was still some of vulnerability and innocence from before. It was a strange combination, but on her it seemed to fit. Spike immediately decided he liked the improved Willow. Once again, he was explaining himself to her.
Spike cleared his throat and said, “It was never about winning, luv.” He meant to keep it at that, but he found himself continuing, “All I wanted was to make Drusilla happy. Kidnapping you was a means to an end. I just want her back. I love her so much and I just… I don’t know who I am without her.”
Willow’s expression of triumph changed as he spoke. Green eyes filled with an emotion he could not place. She appeared thoughtful for a moment, then said honestly, “You didn’t love Drusilla and she didn’t love you. Even I could see that.” Spike was about to protest when she cut him off. “I know it hurts to say it, but it’s the truth. She cheated on you first with Angelus, and then with a Chaos Demon. There were probably others. And you… the only reason you were with her was because you felt you needed to protect her. And you’re wrong about something else, too. She didn’t make you who you are. You are the exact same person you’ve always been, except now that she’s gone, you’re not afraid to be him. ” This time, Spike was so surprised by her rationale that he could say nothing. He didn’t find his tongue until after she spun on her heels and began walking towards the door.
“Well, I didn’t ask you!” The man shouted after her. “What would you know of love? You’ve spent all your life pining away for a boy who doesn’t even know who you really are. And don’t even consider that little romance you had going with that werewolf to be love. Face it, Red. You haven’t had one relationship that held a candle to what Dru and I had.” She stopped walking but kept her back to him as she listened to his words. She turned slowly and he saw the tears begin to form in her eyes. Her voice was calm and velvety as she spoke; yet it rose with her words. It gave him the chills.
“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Spike. You see, and you presume, and you understand nothing. Maybe Xander and I aren’t meant for each other. Maybe what Oz and I had not been true love, but at least I’m brave enough to admit it. At least I was strong enough to let go. When will you?”
He turned away from her questioning eyes and stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing. Spike felt his fists clenching and unclenching, but he didn’t realize he was causing it. He felt anger, but he didn’t know why. He looked back at her and saw that she was staring at him. She had stopped herself from showing him that she was hurt. Now she was looking at him with that thoughtful expression he had seen earlier, head tilted slightly. She didn’t seem to be waiting for a response from him, just waiting. “You’re right. I don’t know what love is. I’m in no place to question your affections. But, I just can’t accept that obsession and love are the same thing.” With that, she turned and walked out the door, slamming it violently behind her.
“It wasn’t an obsession. It was more,” he explained to the door in desperation. Then he whispered to himself, “It had to be.”
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