Disclaimers – Buffy, Willow and any other
characters from the series belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I’m just
borrowing them for a little while.
Other Disclaimers – This story has a relationship
between two women in it, if that or the thought of the Slayer and a Witch
getting it on bothers you leave now. If it is illegal where you live, I suggest
you move, soon!
Summary – This is the third and last
sequel after "A Higher Power" and takes place just after "The
Next Illogical Step", enjoy.
Thanks - Special thanks go to Diana Renee, for all her help and
patience Beta reading this story, pointing out problems and solutions, and all
in all making this a better story.
Feedback – Please send any comments or
suggestions to Alex at keeper444@webtv.net.
Flames will be summarily deleted.
< > Thoughts
Chapter 1
Willow
sat staring out the window at the huge black raven perched in the big old oak tree
behind their townhouse.
<>Yes,
she said yes! <> Willow remembered the look on Buffy’s face as her love
and soulmate had joyfully agreed to the Joining Ceremony. If Willow lived to be a hundred she would
always remember the joy etched on her Slayer’s face.
She
marveled at how much a simple three-letter word could affect her life. Just one
syllable and her entire life up to now had been validated. The raven stared Willow in the eye and
nodded in agreement, then flew off as if on important business.
Willow
stood and did a happy little jig around the empty room. It was strange how that simple little word
wiped away all the heartache and pain of the past few years.
She
stopped her little dance to better remember the moment again: the way Buffy had
slid off her chair and onto her knees so she was face to face with Willow. The
tears of joy streaking down the blonde’s face as she repeated yes over and over
again punctuating each word with a kiss.
Willow
had no idea how long they’d remained on the floor of the private dining room in
each other’s arms as Buffy’s playful kisses changed in nature. As relief, joy, and comfort were replaced by
the craving to become one with each other.
In
fact she didn’t remember leaving the restaurant at all. She knew Mr. Lipase had found them cuddled
together and had called them a cab.
But, after that it was a blur until they finally reached their bed.
Willow
couldn't help the smug smile as she thought of Buffy’s first release-the blonde
was always so careful never to lose control for fear that she would hurt her
lover-that first time: she’d lost control.
The young Witch thought of how wild and free the slayer looked as the
climax claimed her-though, Willow thought blushing, her own release was just as
intense.
After
that initial wild time they had settled down and made an almost lethargic kind
of love. The kind that only two lovers
with the promise of tomorrow could make-a slow burn that afterwards left them
both peacefully asleep.
No,
Willow couldn’t remember much of the night-but what did that matter?
<>Buffy
said YES! <>
*****
In
a drab, unimpressive little office deep in the bowels of the Vatican library a
very agitated Priest was frantically punching keys on the computer facing him.
He
was trying to call up the files he’d been in charge of for over five years.
Panic
gripped him when every code he put in failed to produce the information he
requested. The strong grip of fear continued to squeeze him in a tighter and
tighter hold, because he was the one who had claimed that all the old fragile
records needed to be scanned into computer files for their safety.
He
had graduated from MIT with honors after answering God’s calling at just twelve
years old, taking his vows at 15; the church had sponsored his education. The
Vatican needed a computer expert and he was it. Years of rising in status only as successive computer
advancements had increased his value to the church, struggling to learn the
complex politics that governed life in the Vatican, and now his career was
over.
As
a last resort he put in his private code that gave him “backdoor” access to the
library’s main-frame but even accessing the hard drive failed to produce
results.
He
just sat in his chair staring at a picture of an intricate Celtic knot with two
interlocking rings superimposed on his computer screen.
The
Black Files were missing, no, not missing: gone. The only copies known to exist in the world! The original files were destroyed during the
process of scanning them and because of their content there were just two
computer-generated copies made. One was placed in the mainframe and one on tape
backup-the back-up copy had triggered the virus, which wiped everything out.
Under other circumstances he would have loved to meet the hacker that had
thought up the program and compare notes.
Even in his panicked state of mind he had to admire the skill and
cunning of the faceless hacker.
Frustrated,
he finally had to admit failure and shut down his computer before the virus
could damage things further. It would
be weeks before he would be able to write a “seek and destroy program” to
eliminate the virus.
He
took an official memo pad out of his desk and wrote his first and possibly his
last note to the Arch-Bishop, <> I’ll probably be exiled to some small
parish in the wilds of North Carolina, <> he thought.
It
was short note but it carried far-reaching consequences, all it said was:
The
Black Files are gone.
Q
With
a resigned sigh, and wondering just how hot it got in the American South, he
put the memo into a plastic carrier and put that into the old fashioned
pneumatic tube that went directly to the Arch-Bishop’s private quarters.
“This
does not bode well.” he muttered to himself and got up to go pack.
After
he left, a tiny light, no bigger than a fly, detached from the wall and slipped
out door to take this news to his master.
*****
It
was late on a moonless night when the private Lear jet landed at the small
airstrip deep inside an undeveloped country in a Central American rain forest.
A
black four-wheel drive vehicle, with dark tinted windows, met the heavily
cloaked passenger. The cloaked
passenger watched the dark countryside seemingly lost in his own thoughts. The
vehicle pulled up in front of well-maintained but long forgotten stone mansion.
The
dark stranger stepped out of the car and went quickly into the house without
waiting for an invitation. The human house servant didn't speak just signaled
that he follow him.
The
servant led him too directly to the dimly lit study.
Sitting
behind an expansive ironwood desk in a large leather chair was a huge black
skinned demon with glowing red eyes and sharp white teeth.
“It
has been a long time my brother,” the demon said in a raspy nails on a chalk
board voice.
“Yes,
fortunately. I was told you have a job for me?” the dark figure answered. His voice deep and menacing clearly showing
his impatience. “I do not have the time for polite amenities.”
“Remember
your place, Count Kresis!” The demon snapped. “I come directly from our Master
and as his messenger I have the power to have you destroyed.” The demon
gloated.
The
dark figure threw off his black leather duster revealing the tall dark haired
dark skinned man-like creature. It was
the first time in two days that he dared remove his coat.
Count
Kresis could have passed as human if not for his glowing red eyes, razor sharp
teeth with long needle like fangs, and long extra jointed fingers that ended in
talons.
“Do
not threaten me!” he roared grabbing the edge of the desk his talons sinking
into the hardwood. “I am still a Count of the first circle even if I am exiled
in this backward land.”
The
black skinned demon cringed back from the count's outburst fear clearly written
on his features. Seeing that he had gotten his point across Kresis calmed
himself.
“Now
what does our Master wish me to do?” he asked impatiently. “Or more importantly
what’s in it for me?”
“The
rewards will be quite substantial,” the demon said relieved to be back on
familiar ground. “That plus the Master’s support in the council on your
petition to return.” He slid a document across the desk.
“Impressive,”
Kresis quipped as he read the sheep skin scroll. “Now, for all this ‘generosity’
what is expected of me?”
“The
Slayer and the Sorceress have become aware of their special bond.” The demon
said. “If they complete the joining they will be able to close the Hellmouth
thus thwarting the master’s plans to assimilate this world into his Kingdom. That will also strand us all on this
dreadful world.”
“Where
are they?” He asked, “and what is required of me? Do I just kill them?”
“Yes,
you must stop them before the Joining,” the demon said. Then with an evil grin he added, “they
reside directly over the portal or what the humans call the Hellmouth.”
“This
is ridiculous you know I am not allowed enter the area of the ‘Hellmouth.’ ”
The count protested, “I’ll have to use troops and without me there in the
battle with them it will be difficult.
At least give me some of the Royal Guard!”
“No,
the Royal Guard is busy putting down the uprising on Tarsus. You will only have the regular troop. I will not bother the Master again over this
matter." The demon answered, firmly and finally.
Resigned
the count collapsed into an overstuffed easy chair, his heavily muscled
Seven-foot frame sprawled out casually.
“A
troop of second rate demons and vampires against the Chosen One and her Sorceress
who also just happen to Sisters of the Soul.” He sighed, “I hope our master
realizes the impossible task he has set for me. I will do my best but to be
honest I can only work with what I’m given.”
*****
He
rose and put on his leather duster then bowed slightly to the demon behind the
desk.
“I
will strive to follow the commands of our master.” Count Kresis said then spun
and stalked out of the room.
“What
do you think?” said a disembodied female voice from the shadows. “Will he
succeed?”
“I
truly do not know your grace,” the demon said to the provocatively dressed
darkly beautiful female disengaging herself from the shadows. “There is much
aligned against him, he was once considered the greatest general in the
Master’s army. But, without being able
to directly lead his troop into battle-well lets just say fortune favors the
brave.”
“So,
in other words he will mount a brilliant campaign and fail.” She laughed, “I
guess the only question is will he live? Oh, well, it won’t take much effort to
open another portal and our dear Count Kresis is expendable. Come my pet, I
hear the inhabitants of this world are quite a delicacy, lets try some.”
“In
a moment my dear. What do you have
going on in that pretty little head of yours?” The demon asked, smiling.
The
beautiful demoness laughed again, “Oh, nothing really, except wouldn’t it just
be delicious if the Slayer and her Witch were persuaded to see things from our
point of view?”
The
demon opened his mouth to speak, only nothing would come-the nerve of her to
think she could enslave the Chosen One and the Great Sorceress!
“Darling,
close your mouth.” The demoness stated. "They might be The Sisters of the
Soul, but they are still human-I have found that after a millennia of living in
this Hell that all humans have weaknesses.”
“So,
ss-so, what do you plan, my darling?”
The
demoness walked over the desk and peered down, “I don’t know yet. Rest assured though, I will conquer their
will and present them as a gift to our Master.”
“As
you wish your grace,” the demon said standing. Smiling wickedly knowing he
would be allowed to feed well tonight, and if his Mistress succeeded in her
plans she would take him back to the Master’s court with her.
She
stepped to his side and let her taloned finger traced the line of his jaw over
his dry scaly skin.
“Lets
go find a human female to play with,” she purred and smiled revealing two rows
of razor sharp teeth and fangs, “before we use her for a late snack.”
“Gods
I love my job!” The demon sighed, his long forked tongue flicked out then back.
She
laughed maniacally in reply as she led the way out followed closely by her
pet. She was pleased with her pet he
had performed his part well, Kresis hadn’t suspected a thing,
Willow
woke to the familiar darkness of their bedroom. Being the Slayer meant that Buffy’s eyesight was so sensitive to
light that she liked to have the room as dark as possible at night. Willow
didn't mind the darkness if it helped her Slayer get a good night’s rest.
The
Witch wondered what had woken her up?
Was it a sound from outside the window?
Or was it something else? She
tried to think but she was wrapped around the warm body of her lover and
Buffy's breathing began to lull her back into sleep.
Willow
had almost drifted off again when she felt the pace of her love’s breathing
change-her Slayer's breath was beginning to come in gasps. Under Willow's hand
she felt Buffy’s heart rate pick-up and she knew that the blonde was in the
grip of another nightmare.
The
redhead knew better than to try and shake the slayer awake. She instead started to project soothing
thoughts and emotions while slowly tracing small circles where her hand lay on
Buffy’s stomach.
It
had been nearly a month since Buffy’s last nightmare-the longest the Slayer
could remember going without having her sleep disturbed. Ever since becoming lovers, Willow had
helped her soulmate through the terrors being a Slayer brought to her sleep.
Willow
slipped easily into Buffy’s sleeping mind to see what monsters were haunting
her tonight. A tiny strand of seeking
green light winding its way from the young Witch into her love’s heart. If the room hadn’t been so dark the light
would have been nearly invisible.
After
that first night, when Willow saw all of Buffy’s pain, and had been driven to
edge of insanity by it, she had put up shields. Since then she had never accidentally “spied” on her lover’s
dreams-instead opting for the “legal way” by asking Buffy for her permission to
view only her nightmares, so she could help ease her Slayer’s internal demons.
Remembering
that first night, Buffy had been resistant to the idea until Willow quietly
explained that having a Slayer dreaming dark and violent images next to a person
wasn’t particularly safe for that person.
And since there was no way Willow was going to let Buffy sleep alone she
really had no choice in the matter-so her slayer gave her permission-and from
then on Buffy’s nightmares had slowly gotten better.
The
redhead watched as a familiar dreamscape unfolded before her. It was funny how she felt she was a
spectator in the dream but not a part of it. Buffy was fighting Angelus,
again. One part of Willow’s mind
detached and she was thinking on two levels: the dream level-waiting for the
fight to end because dream or not she did not want to get between those two
wielding swords. And on the level that she remembered the argument that Giles
and Buffy had that day about asking Angel to try and translate something from
the Book of Souls.
The
dream fight was coming to an end but before Buffy could plunge the sword
through Angel, Willow stepped in front of him.
“Buffy,
you are having a nightmare. Angel is
safe in LA.” The dream slayer at first looked
confused, then hopeful, then the dreamscape dissolved and Willow was physically
pulled into a huge hug as Buffy woke.
*****
The
tiny light floated just outside of the Slayer and Witches’ home unable to
enter. The wards and protections
surrounding the dwelling were too strong and advanced for him to go through
undetected. He had been testing for a
weakness when the Witch woke and nearly caught him. He fluttered around outside the window; he could just see the
Slayer and her mate through a tiny crack in the drapes.
It
was a really heart-warming scene how the Witch was holding her friend while she
sobbed. Human’s and their emotions-he
would never be able to understand them-emotion seemed like such a weakness to
him. Just as dawn was breaking on the
horizon the two girls finally settled back into sleep.
He
knew he would just have to wait and watch for an opportunity to be carried into
the house through the protections. He
was a mundane creature, with little or no magical qualities, so once inside he
could go unnoticed.
No,
he wasn't magical in and of himself, but small magic’s could be transmitted
through him. Thus, his people were the
perfect spies for the Master or in his case, his Countess.
He
flew off in search of a place to watch the house from during the day. The Oak
Tree would have been the perfect place, with a view inside the main rooms of
both the Witches and the Watcher’s houses-except for that stupid Raven. The dumb bird had taken up residence in the
old oak and the little entity had no delusions that it wouldn’t think of him as
lunch.
“Oh,
well, the things I put up with for my Mistress.” It sighed as it flew away.
*****
Kresis
sat sprawled comfortably in the custom made seat of his private jet as it flew
steadily northward.
He
was contemplating the latest twist in his ill-fated existence.
Somehow
his name had been brought up to the Darklord and Master of his kind and he did
not know why. The only thing he was certain of was that somehow Hela was behind
it. She had once been his mate and had hated him ever since the council had
exiled him instead of having him destroyed.
He was a loose end and she hated loose ends.
At
one time she'd been his coconspirator in a bid for power but politics on Tarsus
were competitive and often deadly. In
the finest tradition of the first circle Hela had betrayed him and turned him
over to his rivals on the council.
She
had counted on them destroying him but instead they had exiled him to this
backward world. He thought, darkly,
that he would have preferred the execution squad.
Now
he was on his way back to a gods forsaken place he hadn’t seen since his first
unpleasant day on this world.
<>I’ve
come full circle, <> he thought, <>and still I’m not in control of
my own life. <>
His
plane streaked through the black velvet night sky carrying him to his ultimate
fate, he sat cursing his mortal enemy, Hela, and trying to figure out where she
fit in the Darklord’s plans.
Kresis
had sent one of the spies to gather first hand information on the Witch and the
Slayer but she had disappeared-no doubt Hela’s work. His request for another one had gone unanswered. He imagined the insurrection on Tarsus must
be worse than originally reported to the outlying worlds.
His
thoughts were interrupted by the voice of his human pilot coming over the
intercom.
“We
are getting ready to land Lord Kresis,” the voice said. “Are there any further instructions?”
“Just
land this blasted thing,” Kresis said irritably. “We should be expected, those
fools on the ground are to be ready.”
<>These
humans have no imagination, they’re only good for servants or food, <> he
thought disgustedly. <>One way or another it ends here! <>
*****
Willow
was beside herself with frustration, her mother was slowly turning a supposedly
simple wedding into a major social event. Every time she turned around her
mother was there making changes of some kind or another to the wedding or the
reception afterwards.
Oh,
and Buffy’s mother was of little or no help when came to dealing with “Mom
Rosenberg.” It was Giles’ theory that
both women were trying to make up for whatever past mistakes they’d made by
overcompensating with the wedding arrangements.
One
of their first major skirmishes had been over Willow and Buffy’s choices for
their wedding party. Willow’s mother had wanted them to have Willow’s cousins
as bridesmaids. But, on this one thing
they able to stand firm mostly because neither Willow nor Buffy knew the
cousins all that well. Willow was going to have Xander as her best man (or man
of honor, or whatever.) and Buffy was going to ask Cordelia to be her maid of
honor. Giles, of course, would give the ‘bride’ away.
They
decided that since Willow had ‘popped the question’ Buffy was the one to be
given away.
Joyce
had tried for several days to reach Buffy’s father and when she finally did
reach him; he refused to even attend the ceremony. As he put it “he didn’t want to participate in another of his
daughter’s mistakes.”
It
tore her mother’s heart out to tell her daughter, but Buffy had already figured
out what his reaction would be after the way he’d taken the news of her ‘coming
out.’ Giles had been more like a father to her over the years since she'd moved
to Sunnydale. She felt it was about
time that her mother acknowledged the place Giles held in her life-he was her
father in every sense of the word-except for biology. But, Willow knew that Joyce still silently cursed her former
husband for his insensitivity.
Willow
and Buffy invited Xander and Cordelia over for dinner to ask them to join the
wedding party.
Xander
had been easy; he just stared for a minute then sputtered out a “yes of
course.”
Cordelia’s
reaction had them puzzled however.
When
Buffy asked her to be her maid of honor, Cordelia had burst into tears and
collapsed to the living room floor.
Willow
sat down on the floor next to her while Buffy forcefully ushered a confused
Xander out of the front door.
“What’s
wrong Cordy?” Willow asked softly, putting her arm around the weeping girl’s
shoulders. “Was it something we did? Or Xander? What?”
Cordy
couldn’t seem to stop crying but she held her hand up and shook her head. Buffy
returned carrying three glasses and two bottles of wine.
“I
gave Xander a tray full of cocktail wieners and a cold six pack and told him to
go bother Giles for a few hours.” Buffy said as she sat down on the other side
of Cordelia, “I told him we had some girl type issues to work out, he couldn’t
get out of here fast enough. Is it me or does Xander seem to be getting smarter
every day?”
They
all laughed and that seemed to calm Cordelia's tears for a moment.
"Now,"
Buffy said, focusing her attention on the girl between them. “What’s the matter
with Queen C?”
With
Buffy's question Cordelia burst out with a fresh bout of tears.
“Don’t
know,” Willow replied with a shrug. “All she’s done is cry.”
Buffy
poured three glasses of red wine and handed Willow one holding the other one
until Cordy had calmed down again.
Cordelia
took a sip and after a second began to explain her reaction
“I-I’m
s-sorry," she began. “It’s just...well...I know you guys didn’t really
like me before, even when I was dating Xander in high school.” She paused to
take another sip of wine. Willow thought
she could the Cordelia mentally bracing herself.
“I
knew you only accepted me because of him. So when I left for LA with all my big
plans and then came back a failure I was sure you’d treat me like I treated
you.” Cordy looked out the French doors
into the darkness beyond. “I knew I deserved it, especially from you, Willow.”
Cordelia
stood up and walked over the doors hugging herself tightly. The young Witch thought she looked exactly
like Buffy did when she facing down her own demons.
“Then
Xander took me back, and he never talks about LA or asks me what happened. He just sits there and listens when I need
to talk and after he just says he’s glad I’m back and that he feels lucky I
still wanted him.”
She
spoke still facing the doors or Willow thought the night beyond the doors. Angel would never tell them why Cordy quit
and moved back to Sunnydale-only that she would need to have friends-friends
she could count on.
“Then
you guys have been so nice,” Cordelia continued turning and looking Willow in
the eyes for the first time since she broke down. “You’ve been so nice about everything; even when I run my stupid
mouth without thinking....” Another pause and far off look, “now you want me to
be a part of the most important day of your lives and I’m just so overwhelmed!”
She
walked back over to the two girls on the floor and pulled them up into a hug.
“I
don’t know how to thank you.”
*****
The
three girls stayed in each other’s arms for a long time as Cordy overcame what
ever was haunting her. When she started
to pull away Buffy felt it was time to offer more wine to break some of the
tension. She was slightly uncomfortable
at the turn the night’s events had taken--she had never known the depths of
emotions the former beauty queen was feeling.
As
Willow led Cordy over the couch Buffy picked up the wine and poured them
another glass, then after handing Cordy hers and placing Willow’s on the coffee
table she sat down in the over stuffed chair.
“If
you want to thank me, okay. But first
hear what we want you to do.” Buffy told Cordy with a small smile.
Cordelia
finished off the glass of wine in one gulp and looked up at Buffy with the
beginnings of that old Cordelia spark that had been missing for the past few
months.
“No,
let me guess?” Cordy smiled back at Buffy.
“You want me to step in and do my famous Cordy party planner--maid of
honor from hell thing.”
Buffy
nearly choked on the wine she was sipping and Willow laughed at Cordy’s
bluntness. As the slayer refilled
Cordy’s and her glass for the fourth time she tried to explain her what was
happening.
“We
love our mothers but they are driving us nuts! So, yes, we need you to get
between us and our moms.”
“Look
Cordy,” Willow picked up where Buffy left off. “I want you to understand, we love
you and we know how hard you’ve worked to create the new user friendly
Cordelia.” She smiled at Cordy to reassure her. “And we really don’t want you to change if you don't want to....”
“But
what you guys need right now is the good old take charge Queen C. like in high
school.” The Slayer noticed that very familiar glint return to Cordelia’s eyes
in full force.
“To
be ‘The Bitch.’ ” Cordelia finished sitting up straighter on the couch and
smiling her beauty Queen smile.
Buffy
and Willow looked at each other and then drained their glasses each hoping they
weren’t recreating the monster.
“Yeah
Cordy, you know,” Buffy took over again. “We want you to use your powers for
good and not for evil.”
They
spent the rest evening finishing off the wine, or at least Buffy and Cordy
finished off the wine and making plans not only for the wedding but for the
future as well. By the time Giles had had enough of Xander and sent him back to
Willow and Buffy’s, the slayer and “Queen C” were more than a little tipsy.
Cordelia
and Xander ended up spending the night in the girl’s spare bedroom and in the
morning the dreaded and widely feared Queen C. appeared and took over control
of the wedding plans.
*****
The
black skinned demon entered his mistress’ private quarters and found her still
sleeping. Next to her on the bed was the nude form of what was once very pretty
young girl. The girl's flawless skin was now covered with cuts and bite
marks. Her eyes were open and starring
blankly at the ceiling, as line of drool seeped from the corner of her swollen
battered and bleeding lips.
The
demon tore his eyes away from his Mistress’ victim and watched the scene that
the spy was showing. It was a small
magic for the spy to project what it was viewing to the Mistress. But, he wondered what his owner found so
interesting about a pair of non-descript apartment buildings.
<>
It is not my place to think, <> the demon reminded himself. He reached down to stroke the Countesses
face to wake her.
“It
is time to leave your grace,” the demon whispered. “The vehicle is here to take
us to the plane.”
He
watched as her beautiful eyes opened and she stretched in a cat like
fashion. His beautiful master smiled at
him and he was so happy he thought he would die.
He
helped her sit-up-she was always tired after playing as hard as she did last
night. He couldn’t help the hunger that
shown in his face as he followed her gaze down to the catatonic girl next to
her. The Countess had let him watch most of the events, and at one point, let
him briefly join the fun.
He
licked his lips as she ran her fingers down the girl’s abused and tortured body
her razor sharp talons leaving thin trails of blood to mark their passage.
“So,
so, pretty, but oh, so fragile.” She mused wishfully. “I wonder if the Slayer will have more stamina?”
She
then looked up to make sure she had her audience and plunged her hand into the
girl’s chest pulling out holding her still beating heart.
The
demon didn't stop the drool that leaked out of his mouth as his Goddess took a
large bite of the warm quivering organ.
“This
one was delicious though,” she laughed as she chewed slowly as if relishing the
flavor of the organ. She pointed to the body with her free hand; “the rest is
yours.”
“You
are too kind your grace,” he proclaimed bowing and then pulling the rapidly
cooling corpse from the bed. He knelt
and began tearing the flesh from the girl’s body, and loudly enjoying his feast
as only his kind could. All the while staying aware of what was happening in
the room around.
Being
one of the slaves to Countess Hela of the Inner Circle meant being alert at all
times. He watched his Master as she
slowly walked over to view what the spy was projecting. It reminded him of one of this world’s
televisions sets, except for it floated in mid-air and was bordered by the red
tinge of magic.
“So,
he still hasn’t been able to gain entrance into the they’re home.” The Countess
stated and then at the wave of her bloody hand the view dissolved.
She
pulled a bell cord and licked the blood from her fingers while she waited for
one of the human servants.
A
huge muscular Latino man, who the Black demon hated, entered the room. And he
was pleased to see the human pale visibly at the sight of him tearing and
consuming what was left of the girl.
“Yes
Countess Hela,” the man asked softly.
“We
are leaving, Max,” she answered. “Close the house and join us in Sunnydale.”
She
reached out and ran a bloody talon down his cheek looking deep into his big
brown eyes with her glowing red ones, causing him to shiver in terror.
“Don’t
take so long that I have to come back here and fetch you, I promise that
wouldn’t be pleasant.”
“As
you wish Countess.”
“Hurry
up pet,” she called over her shoulder after the human left. “I’m sure none of
us will go hungry in Sunnydale.”
The
sickening sounds of the demon feasting served as a counter balance to the
Countess Hela’s shrill maniacal laughter.
It
was a cold damp night, with a light mist falling as the two girls made their
way out of Restfield Cemetery.
“And
next week after Spike’s and my love baby....”
“What!”
The Witch demanded as the unusual conversation finally registered in her
preoccupied mind. And Willow was lost
when she looked into her lover’s laughing face.
“Well,
you’ve hardly said two words to me all patrol,” Buffy explained with a
mischievous smile forming. “So I
thought you needed a little teasing.”
Willow
blushed; Buffy was right, she was so caught up in what Angel had said about the
Book of Souls she couldn’t think about anything else.
“I’m
sorry, it’s just that....” Willow started.
“That
Angel came up with something concerning the Book?” Buffy finished her smile
disappearing. All the earlier amusement gone from her face as the calm mask she
wore when trying to hide her pain slammed down across her expressive features.
Willow
could feel the Slayer pulling into herself- “Stop that Buffy, right now!” The
witch told her. “Don’t even try to hide
what you are feeling from me!”
The
Slayer blinked.
“You
know I can feel you when we’re this close, so don't pull that ‘I’m so tough
nothing bothers me’ routine.” Willow answered the Slayer’s unspoken question.
Buffy
touched and then took Willow’s hand stopping and turning to face the young
witch.
Willow
plowed on, “you know, Buffy, sometimes talking things out helps put them into
the proper perspective.”
“It’s
not that Will,” she started. “It’s just my feelings are still so jumbled over
the argument I had with Angel, and now’s not the time or place to sort them
out.”
Willow
had to admit that Buffy was right, but not to be defeated so easily she
bargained: “Okay, I see your point,
standing in the middle of the street, at night during patrol is not the place
for a heart to heart.” The redhead
smiled, “how about we swing by the Bronze and then pack it in?”
She
knew she had won when Buffy smiled and nodded.
They
resumed walking towards the Bronze each seemingly lost in their own
thoughts. After a few blocks of silence
the Slayer glanced at the redhead as if she wanted to ask something....
“What?”
Willow gently questioned.
Buffy
looked down and then away. “Well, ah,
was Angel any help? I mean with the
Book? I know you have been awfully
involved with it.”
The
witch sighed, “Yes and no.” She was at a loss to explain why he was a help and
yet he wasn’t. Or even why she was so
incredibly obsessed with one indecipherable passage when there were so many
parts she could translate.
“Um,
could you vague that up a little?” Buffy's joked, breaking into Willow’s
frustrated thoughts. “You know
sometimes talking things out helps put them into the proper perspective.” The Slayer added with a tiny chuckle.
The
witch groaned. “Yes, and those wise
words are very true.”
They
walked a few more steps as Willow formed the ideas into words-“he was able to
confirm that the passage was written in ancient High Gaelic.” She paused, and
realized that she had instinctively reached out for Buffy’s hand. Pulling it up to kiss it, finding comfort in
the blonde’s touch.
She
traced the delicate bones of Buffy’s hand--marveling at the power that lay
dormant within. Power that used and
directed in one way could in less than a moment crush bones and take lives.
Yet, used in another way could create unimaginable pleasure for the person the
Slayer loved. Somehow, when Willow discovered that small passage buried within
the Book, she knew it held the same power.
“The
power to create or destroy.” Willow mumbled.
“How
so Wills?” Buffy asked clearly confused by the witch’s sudden withdrawal.
“He
said that he thinks it is either from the same time period or might even
pre-date Arthur of Thirteen Battles.”
Willow said shaking her head to clear it.
She
felt a slight tingle of confusion from her lover so she explained further. “King Arthur, you know the knight’s of the
round table and all that?”
“Oh,
yeah, Camelot?” The slayer questioned as they began to walk again.
“Yeah,
sort of, except most of the legend has gone pretty much Hollywood....”
“No!”
The blonde sighed, dramatically. “You
mean all those movies were wrong?”
The
young redhead couldn’t stop the laugh that her lover’s playful joking invoked.
“Oh,
yes, every one of those plays and movies were the Gods honest truth-from
Bernard Shaw to Excaliber--they were completely based on fact!” Willow said,
trying to keep a serious face, pretending along with Buffy-breaking the tension
she felt building between them since the mention of Angel.
They
were quiet for another block or two; both lost again in their own thoughts,
only this time they still held each other’s hands maintaining contact.
“So,
did he help?” Buffy repeated her earlier question-no need to say who ‘he’ was.
“Yeah,
I think so. ‘He’ was able to at least
spell the passage phonetically.” Willow answered. “But, he had no clue what the words meant.”
“So
it could have been King Arthur’s grocery list for all we know?” Buffy stated.
“Yes,
no, it has power, Buffy, it....” Suddenly the Slayer stopped and tensed. Willow knew that something was had alerted
the blonde to danger.
Willow
released the Slayer’s hand and watched her do a slow pivot, her head canting to
one side as if listening for something that only she could hear.
After
a second to get her bearings the blonde took off in the direction of the Bronze
expecting her lover to follow her-which Willow did as fast as she could.
When
they turned the corner into an alley near the Bronze they found a vampire with his
back turned to the street holding a young teenage girl. He appeared as if he was getting ready to
sink his fangs into her neck.
“Shouldn’t
snack this close to bed time?” the Slayer quipped, as she skidded to a stop in
the middle of the alley. “Didn’t your
sire teach you anything?”
Willow
watched in horror as the vampire turned to face them-he didn’t have his “game
face” on so that could only mean one thing....
“My,
my, Slayer,” came a hissing demonic voice from behind them. “I was beginning to
think that you and your little red-headed bitch were going to miss our little
party.”
It
was a trap; Willow belatedly finished her thought.
The
girls turned as one and found they were facing a group of six vampires and
three minor demons who were rapidly spreading out in a lose circle around them.
Sensing
a magical threat Willow faced the demon that was obviously the leader of the
merry band. The Witch felt Buffy take
up the position directly behind her, placing them back to back.
“Let
her go,” Buffy said twirling a stake in one hand and one of the dirks in the
other. “It’s us you want or don’t you think you’ve brought enough help.”
“I’m hurt Slayer,” the demon hissed. “Here
our Lord went to such lengths to provide you with the proper entertainment to
make sure we kept your interest, and you worry about the expendable
extras. Tsk, tsk.”
“They
always gotta talk,” the Slayer said and without warning threw her stake in the
heart of the closest vampire. As if that was the invisible signal the battle
was on-the demon in front of Willow attacking her magically while the remaining
vampires and demons attacked Buffy physically.
The
redhead knew that their position was not the best in the world. Buffy’s natural
fighting style used her speed as a weapon-protecting Willow’s back meant that
she had to stand and pound it out-rather than hit and evade. While the young Witch was holding her own
against the lead demon’s magic, she couldn’t break away from his attack to give
the Slayer aid. Plus, these minions
from hell seemed to have some kind of training-every time Buffy tried to
maneuver them into a more defensible position they were cut off.
Then
all other thoughts flew from Willow’s mind as some kind of strong dark magic
began reinforcing the lead demon’s own magic taking nearly all her strength to
hold him back.
Finally,
the lead demon made a mistake that gave Willow an opening-without consciously
thinking about it she threw a huge ball of explosive blue flame that blew the
lead demon back into the street. She kept
an eye on him making sure he didn’t get up as she turned around to help Buffy.
The
Slayer was winning but just barely: the air was filled with the dust of
destroyed vampires. One of the lesser demons tried to attack the Witch and she
managed to completely dispel it.
After
that the two remaining vampires grabbed their leader and ran off.
Seeing
the vampires flee Buffy collapsed to one knee and for the first time since the
battle began Willow was able to look at her lover and the sight horrified
her. Her beloved had dual gashes down
the entire length of her forearm from the claws of the demon she’d killed and
something had laid open her cheek to the bone.
The
blonde’s blood was flowing from those and several smaller wounds soaking her
coat and dripping onto the wet pavement. By the way Buffy was panting Willow
could tell that the blonde was very nearly at the end of her reserves.
The
Witch had forgotten about the lone remaining vampire until he spoke.
“A
little something to help you remember me,” he hissed angrily and sank his fangs
into the forgotten the girl's neck at the pulse point and began feeding as
quickly as he could.
Buffy
looked up with dazed and glassy eyes and saw what was happening. It still took
a few seconds for what the vampire was doing to register but when it did she
was a blur of action.
“NO!”
she screamed and dove at the feeding beast ramming the stake through it's
heart, only before it burst into a cloud of dust it bit down hard on the
young’s neck severing her jugular.
With
all the speed given to her by her Slayer genetics Buffy was able to catch the
girl’s limp body before it hit the ground but she was too late. The beautiful
young girl’s life pumped out of her body, as the Slayer helplessly watched her
blood mixing with Buffy’s as her life faded away.
The
girl's last words were “I didn’t know.”
Willow
watched her lover hug the girl’s limp body to her chest and began to gently
rock her with growing dread.
“This
is going to be bad,” she mumbled to herself as she began setting up wards and
barriers to protect them from further attack.
Thanking the Gods for the first time tonight for the light mist because
it would help wash away the smell of Buffy’s blood.
She
turned back to her lover to find the blonde holding and rocking the girl
moaning softly--tears flowing unchecked down her face.
Guilt
was eating at Willow's resolve--because she too, had forgotten about the girl
during the heat of the fight-maybe she could have done something, anything that
could have saved her. What good were
all her powers if through negligence she still let a life slip between her
fingers?
Another
soft moan pulled the redhead’s attention away from the dead girl and to her
lover. She could tell that Buffy was
fading fast and they needed to get out of there and home as quickly as
possible.
She
knelt down by the slayer and gently stroked the side of her face that wasn’t
cut. The Slayer’s skin felt hot and dry
to Willow, which meant that she had a high fever.
“Love,
Buffy, honey, we have to leave, now.” She said to the unresponsive girl. Buffy didn’t seem to realize Willow was
there, next to her, touching her.
“Please
Buffy, we have to get home, please....” Willow pleaded and at last the Slayer
came back to herself. She blinked, then
quietly placed the girl on the wet pavement.
The
witch helped the blonde stand and supported her as they slowly made their way
home.
****
Once
home, Willow helped her lover to their couch and put Buffy into a deep healing
sleep and then washed out the worst of her wounds. But the blonde had a raging fever-Willow thought from some kind
of venom the demon used on his claws.
When the witch used her ‘sight’ though, she saw that the Slayer’s
natural defenses were defeating the poison, it just meant she had to wait
before treating the gashes.
By
that time the little witch was almost asleep on her feet and not wanting to
wake her lover, Willow laid down next to her on the couch. As they slept Willow’s subconscious put up
wards around them and reached out to her soulmate’s mind. When Willow felt the new indelible darkness
the night’s events had placed on Buffy’s soul she began weeping in her
sleep. Somehow knowing that her lover
would go through the rest of her life carrying the memory of the innocent
girl's death and blaming herself for it.
*****
The
tiny entity watched the Slayer’s friend get out of the car in front of the
Townhouse. He had witnessed the bloody
battle the night before and had tried, unsuccessfully, to attach to some of the
Slayer’s clothing. Thinking that since
she was barely conscious she wouldn’t notice him--but the protections the Witch
had placed around the pair, once again, kept him at a distance.
The
Raven was at its post in the oak tree so it would be tricky to get to the
friend before it saw him-though with the Mistress’ growing impatience death
from the bird eating him would be a mercy-if he were to fail.
Luck
was shining on him because just as the Raven’s sweeping gaze turned away from
his hiding place--the tall brunette paused apparently seeing something of
interest on the sidewalk-it was his chance and he took it. He landed on the hem
of her dress and quickly crawled up under it out of sight.
*****
Cordelia
was walking up to the door of the townhouse shared by Buffy and Willow,
determined to get the two love birds out of the nest and downtown to the
seamstress. The two had been too busy
lately, saving the world or some such trivia, to schedule their final fitting. And unless they wanted to attend their wedding
naked this was going to be one of their last chances.
She’d
finally won the battle with Giles and Xander and had gotten them to the tailors
for their tuxedo fittings yesterday.
Willow had gone into her own funds and bought the two men their tuxes
saying that it was only fair, after all the brides maids always got their
outfits paid for so why not the guys?
Besides, she confided in Cordy, this way she knew Xander wouldn’t show
up in some powder blue monstrosity.
Cordelia
reached the door and paused before knocking--putting on her “wrath of Cordelia”
face so there would be no augments. After a few minutes with no answer she
tried again, after the third time Cordelia noticed a trail of dried blood
leading up the sidewalk to the door.
Worried
about her friends she got out the keys they'd given her and let herself in. She
slowly opened the door calling out their names as she entered the townhouse.
“Buffy...Willow?”
She called out. “Is anybody home? Come
on guys it’s me Cordy.”
She
saw an eerie green glow emanating from the oversized couch. Investigating--
Cordelia found them--lying on the couch Willow curled up next to Buffy her head
resting on lover’s stomach.
Cordelia
could see the source of the blood trail-Buffy.
“Must’ve
been a rough night of slaying.” She mumbled quietly.
When
she walked around to the front of the couch she noticed both girls were crying
in their sleep.
“Must’ve
been a really rough night,” she amended.
She
reached down to try and wake up Willow--but when her hand came in contact with
the green glow an electric like jolt ran up her arm forcing her to step back.
Immediately
the glow disappeared and Willows eyes flew open as she launched herself off the
couch. The little red head landed in a
defensive stance, with a ball of intense blue flame forming in her hand.
“Geese
Willow!” Cordelia shouted, taking another step back. “Paranoid much?” She asked throwing up her hands in a defense
gesture.
“Ah...Cordy?” Willow asked trying to blink her vision
clear. Then she plopped down on the
coffee table next to the couch.
Cordelia could see the lines of exhaustion and worry plainly in her
friend’s face. She watched as Willow
seemed shocked to find the flaming sphere still formed in her hand.
Saw
her friend flush in embarrassment as she apologized, “Sorry bout that.” And
willed the flames to dissipate.
She
followed Willow's gaze as the redhead looked down at her still sleeping lover
and gently ran a finger over the partially healed wounds.
“It’s
okay, Will.” Cordy hesitated just for a
second and then placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Willow
took a deep breath and slowly let it out never taking her eyes off of her
soulmate’s tear streaked face.
“Yes,
yes, it will be,” the young witch said with her resolve face slipping into
place. “What time is it?”
“It’s
around three,” Cordelia answered. “It’s
okay Willow.” Cordelia told Willow for a second time patting her shoulder to
reassure her that someone else cared about them.
“Tell
you what, you go take a shower and I’ll call and reschedule the fittings then
fix you guys some breakfast? How does that sound?” She asked as she walked over
to Buffy, examining the long gashes on her arms. “Then I’ll help you take care of her. From taking care of Angel all those times I became pretty good
with a needle and thread.”
“Sure
Cordy,” Willow agreed, still groggy and stunned by her friend’s cool efficiency
and obvious concern.
“What
did you use to knock her out?” Cordy asked, she needed to know how much longer
the slayer would be asleep.
“Ah,
um...” Willow stammered still not firing on all cylinders. “I used magic-she should be out for a little
while longer, why?”
Cordelia
straightened and headed towards the kitchen hoping Mrs. Summers had done some
grocery shopping for those two.
Sometimes they were just so helpless when it came to the every day
things of life.
“Because,”
the brunette started as she turned back to the confused Witch, “we can get some
food in her, then get her clean and in bed before you zap her again so we can
stitch up those cuts.”
If
Cordelia hadn't been so busy the silent “oh” that formed on Willow’s mouth
would have been comical.
“Then,
I’ll...ah...go shower.” And the Witch staggered up the stairs talking quietly
to herself, “Boy when you put Cordy in charge she really takes charge. Thank
the goddess.”
Cordelia
couldn’t help the smile as the last of her friend’s words drifted down to her.
*****
The
entity detached itself from the girl’s skirt and flew over to the nearest
picture hanging on the wall. It would
be able to watch the entire room from this spot and, at the same time, with
just a few steps it could hide behind it.
It
was still shaking off the effects of the stupid girl touching the witch’s
protections. No wonder humans were
doomed to become slaves-they needed someone to take care of them all the time.
They didn’t have enough intelligence to put in the head of a pin--when they did
things like sneaking up on powerful witches-they shouldn’t expect to live.
He
sat there watching with the smug knowledge that his Mistress was far stronger
than the little witch was-she would have fried the stupid brunette-instead of
taking orders from her.