Rogue Watcher: Chapter 3
When Giles awoke, he could feel the monster burning within him, but it was momentarily quiescent. It happened on occasion, these brief moments when he felt his sanity return. Brief moments that allowed the horror of his life and what he'd become to overwhelm him with sorrow. He both welcomed and loathed these times.
His level of awareness varied. At times he was aware of what the monster was doing, helpless to intervene. At other times his consciousness would fade away only to return at a later time. When that happened he'd wake up at first disoriented, not knowing where he was, or what he'd been doing. He'd prowl his room looking for clues as to his whereabouts, his activities.
He'd been on the move constantly. That much he knew. The team that was tracking him was good, they always were. He'd already traveled half way around the world. His magic left a signature as clear as if he'd used a credit card. That meant moving on after performing any strong magic. He'd stay long enough to see the misery he'd caused. He had to see that; that was the point. The monster fed on fear, on suffering. He lived for it. He created it by his very presence. His touch was enough to send innocent bystanders to anger and to violence. He'd walk through a crowd purposefully brushing up against people, smiling as he watched them turn to their companions in anger.
Giles was able to fight for control on occasion. He'd only been successful a few times. More often than not he'd be snuffed back into oblivion back into the madness that possessed him. He'd prevented a rape once. He hadn't been able to wrest complete control but he'd created enough of a distraction for the girl to run away. He'd awoken the next day to see the backlash of the monster's fury. He'd leveled an entire street. They were still pulling bodies out from the rubble when he'd gone outside.
He'd gone back for his bag and just walked away. He walked, not knowing where he was going, knowing that choosing was pointless, that soon he would lose control again and the choice of destination taken out of his hands. He would just walk away from populated areas; trying to protect what people he could for the brief period of time he had until he was lost again.
He had attempted to call the Council a couple of times, wanting to end this, knowing he had to be stopped. He never completed a call. The monster had always awakened. If sufficient contact had been made the monster just ran. Then he'd exact retribution. Giles stopped trying to call, the cost in lives too dear. After fighting with the monster Giles would find that he'd lose longer tracks of time. That frightened him. Giles refused to relinquish the right to exist. He couldn't step aside and allow the monster dominion. So, he learned to fight quietly, trying to avoid angering the monster, waiting for those brief moments of control to do what he could to protect those around him.
He would look at himself in the mirror sometimes, surprised at his appearance. Somehow he thought that the evil would be stamped on his face and that he would be fearful to look at. Instead, his face looked younger, more innocent, the lines on his face erasing themselves. It was as if the evil was stripping away the face he'd earned through wisdom and sacrifice and leaving one in its place untouched by humanity.
Giles lay there, again feeling the disorientation. He was sore. He looked at his knuckles and saw that they were cut. He healed quickly these days because of the magic but still not as quickly as a slayer. He'd obviously been fighting again. He hoped he hadn't hurt anyone badly. He hoped he hadn't killed anyone. He knew it was a vain hope. He knew he probably had.
He sat up on the edge of the bed, resting his sore hands on either side of him. He was still fully dressed down to his shoes. He looked out the window. He was grateful it was a large city. It was too easy to see what the monster had done in a small one. It was too painful to see the look of fear on peoples' faces as he walked by. Big cities offered him some anonymity, and the pain the monster caused was swallowed up by the everyday madness.
He left his room and began to move about the city. He had always loved to travel to new places but it brought him no pleasure today. There was no pleasure for him anymore in anything. He was suddenly seized by such loneliness and homesickness that it almost brought him to his knees. He longed for Sunnydale and his quiet apartment. He longed for his friends, for his slayer. He longed for his books, and his tea, and his store. He longed to hear Xander annoy him, to listen to Buffy's awful music, and to see Willow's cheerful smile. He leaned back against a wall, needing support for his body as he was overcome with his yearning. He almost would have welcomed the monster back; the feelings were so strong, and too painful.
He looked around him and saw the sign in the window. His body responded before his mind even realized what he was doing. He walked in the store, looking at all the computers. He went to the front counter signaling to get the attention of the clerk.
"How do I use one of these? How do I send an e-mail?"
The clerk handed him a brochure. Giles didn't have the time or the patience. He pulled some money out of his wallet.
"Just show me. Quickly." Giles knew he shouldn't do this but his need overran his caution and common sense. He was desperate for some connection, some proof that he was still valued, still cared for, still missed. He had thrown away the paper with Willow's e-mail address on it months ago, but he had looked at it, and the address was in his memory.
The clerk had finished setting him up. He gave him some simple instructions and Giles nodded. He typed in Willow's e-mail address and then stared at the blank screen having no idea what to write. What could he say of his life, of the horror he'd become? He shook his head. Nothing. He almost got up to leave, but then the longing shook him again. It felt as if he would be walking away from them again and he couldn't do it. He started to type letting his heart lead his fingers as they moved slowly across the keyboard.
Willow had been in England for a week and she was homesick. She missed Xander. She was still angry at Spike. She couldn't believe he had just disappeared. Everything here was still too new. She had never made friends easily and she had yet to make any here. She could feel people looking at her, talking about her. Too many people knew who she was and it made her uncomfortable. Even her classes were odd. She knew more and had experienced more than most of her instructors. She sensed that they knew it and held it against her. She felt lonely and the years ahead seemed unwelcoming and forbidding.
She lay on her bed and reached for her laptop. Tara and Xander e-mailed her regularly and she had come to depend on their chatty messages from home to cheer her up. She powered up and logged in. She saw his name and her breath caught in her throat. She felt a thrill of fear shoot through her and even though she was alone she looked over her shoulder as if she would find an angry Council standing behind her. She was momentarily afraid to open it. She got up and walked around her small room. She carried the laptop to her desk, needing a firmer surface beneath her, to lean on, both physically and emotionally.
She finally moved the cursor and clicked on his message. Her eyes filled with tears as she read his words, her heart aching for him.
**Willow, I miss you. I miss you all. It has been so lonely without you, without a friendly face, without your smile. I hope you think of me sometimes, that I am still occasionally missed. I like to think that somewhere in the world there are still people who think well of me. I do not know how long I have so I will keep this short. But know that you are in my thoughts and in my heart. Give my love to everyone. -Giles**
She leaned back in her chair, a hard lump in her throat. She rubbed her eyes to wipe away the moisture, and then rubbed her hands on her jeans. Her eye caught the time of his e-mail. He had just sent it. She took a chance and started to write back right away, in hopes he'd still be there.
**Giles, we love you and we miss you all the time. You were and are still one of the most important people in my life. Don't ever think you are not loved, not for a moment, I won't allow it. You are the best man I have ever known. I love you.**
She hit the send button and sat back again, waiting to see if he was still there, if he would respond.
Giles had sat there after he'd sent off the message. He still didn't want to leave. It was as if Willow was inside the computer and he couldn't bear to part from her. The computer chirped at him and he looked up at the screen. It indicated that he had received a message. His hand shook as he clicked on the icon. He read the message from Willow not even believing it possible. His eyes filled with emotion, Willow's brief words filling him with a sense of belonging he had thought forever lost to him. He hit the reply button and started to type again.
**Thank you Willow. You do not know how much those words mean to me. You have saved a part of me that was lost. I do not know if I will be able to be in touch again. I am still not sure that I should. I am concerned for your safety. But I will treasure your words, and tuck them away so I can take them out and hold them in my heart when I am in need of comfort.**
He hit the send button. And then he felt the monster stirring. He looked at the card the clerk had left him with his new e-mail address on it. He committed it to memory and then he got up and left quickly, throwing the card away on his way out. He didn't want the monster to awaken and have access to Willow. He got halfway down the block and he could feel his awareness fading.
Willow read his return e-mail and sent him another one quickly in return. She waited for a long time but he didn't respond again. She took her time then and started writing him a longer one. She opened all her journal entries she had made and edited them, culling them down. She picked out the cheeriest ones, the silliest ones, and started pasting them on the e-mail screen. She sent him pages of stories. She sent him updates on Xander and Anya, about Tara. She worried that he would notice the absence of news about Buffy but she couldn't tell yet. She didn't know if she would ever tell him. She also didn't tell him she was in England. She wasn't sure how'd he'd feel about that now and she wanted to only send him happy mail. Finally finished with her composition she hit the send button.
As much as she hated to do it she deleted all traces of his e-mail and her responses from her laptop. She wrote down his e-mail address and hid it. She knew she would be in so much trouble if anyone found out she had actually talked with Giles and didn't report it. She didn't even want to think about how much trouble she'd be in. She felt lonely again, wishing there was someone she could share this with. She thought about calling Xander but decided it was too risky. She didn't know who might overhear on his end and she wouldn't be surprised if the Council monitored phone calls.
It was still early. She decided to take a walk. She needed to walk off some energy. Her body was thrumming with excitement that he'd actually written, that he was still alive, that the part of him she loved so much still existed. She grabbed her raincoat and walked outside.
She wasn't paying attention and she knew better than that. It hadn't taken her long upon her arrival to England to realize that there were plenty of vampires around the area. She usually took a stake with her but in her excitement she had forgotten. He was on her before she knew it. She felt the cold hands on her, felt him start to turn her head to expose her neck. She pushed futilely at him. She screamed and then the scream got caught in her throat as she watched the vampire turn to dust.
"Hello luv. Miss me?"
Her eyes widened as she looked at Spike, grinning from ear to ear, stake still in his hand. Without thought she launched herself at him, hugging him hard. He hugged her back. She pulled out of the hug and stepped away just staring at him. He had pursed his lips and was nodding his head, a satisfied look in his face. "Guess so."
Then she got angry. She whacked him on his chest, and then kept whacking him. "Where did you go? How could you just leave me without saying goodbye? What kind of jerk are you?"
"Hey, hey, that's enough of that." He held her arms so she couldn't whack him anymore. He smiled at her. "I wanted to surprise you." He grinned at her.
She couldn't keep the smile off her face, although she tried, hard. She finally gave in and hugged him again. "I really am glad to see you. Not to mention the saving my life part."
"Ah, don't mention it. It gave me the opportunity to make a bloody good entrance." He couldn't stop grinning. He was so glad to see her. He could sense the rapid beating of her heart, the excitement radiating off of her. He gave her a wicked grin. "What's got you all wound up? Maybe you've been missing me more than I thought, hmm?" He swaggered in her direction.
She whacked him again. "Spike, Giles e-mailed me tonight."
His jaw dropped. That was not what he had expected to hear, ever. "What?"
"Giles, he e-mailed me. Just out of the blue. He sounded so sad and lonely." Her eyes got misty thinking about it. Spike had no response. He just looked at her. She spoke again. "I e-mailed him back and he wrote again. He's alive, and at least part of him is sort of okay."
He rocked back and forth on his feet, his lips pursed again. "Are you gonna tell any of these wankers?"
She shook her head.
"They'll boot you out on your ear if they ever find out, that's if they don't just lock you up."
She nodded. "I know. But Spike, it's Giles." She shrugged, holding her hands out in a helpless gesture.
He nodded. Then he grinned. "Send him my love. That'll make his day."
She grinned back and the two of them set off together chatting, getting caught up, the student watcher and the vampire.
End of Chapter 3
Rogue Watcher: Chapter 4
He had awakened to find himself in bed with a woman. He had ascertained that she was sleeping after a heart stopping moment when he thought that perhaps she was dead, that he had killed her. He had eased out of the bed, not wanting to wake her and had gotten dressed. It was clearly her home, feminine clothing and belongings strewn about. His bag was nowhere in sight so he figured he wasn't staying here. Which meant he had no idea where he was currently staying. It didn't really matter.
Giles quietly shut the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. He saw a newspaper box and walked over, bending down to read the paper. That's when he saw the date and realized how long it had been since he'd last been aware. It was November 3rd and he had written Willow in early September. He saw that he was back in the United States. The last time, back in September, he'd been in Europe.
He rested his head on the box, pulling himself together, trying to suppress the fear he felt. Fear made the monster rise, made him feel threatened. Giles took a couple of deep breaths. He was so close, too close. He was too close to the people he loved. Being in Europe had given him some small consolation that he was far from his loved ones, that they were safe from him. Now he was too close.
He saw a sign for a café and he headed that way, wanting some tea to help calm his nerves. He laughed when he got there when he saw what kind of café it was. He was amazed that he had never noticed how ubiquitous these things were. He slid into a booth, ordering his tea and then proceeded to log on. It was easier this time, both practically and emotionally. He logged on to his site and saw that there was a message. He clicked on it and read the pages that Willow had sent him, chuckling as he drank his tea. He felt normal for a moment, felt like any other man might feel reading a letter from a loved one. He cherished it, and knew that despite the risk he would never stop contacting her. Willow had given him something too essential to him to throw away and he didn't have the strength to deny himself.
He kept waiting to hear news about Buffy but there was nothing. The absence of news was too conspicuous to miss. He knew then that she was gone, either dead, or that she had run away again. He understood why Willow wouldn't have wanted to tell him, that she was trying to protect him, but he had to know.
**Willow, thank you so much for your news. I have laughed with a light heart for the first time since I left. I apologize for the long delay in getting back to you but I have been unavailable. I must ask, and I'm sorry if this causes you pain, but what has become of Buffy? I pray that she simply left, perhaps to join Angel again now that they both share a similar fate. I fear though, that she is dead. Please, I have to know.**
He sent off the e-mail and he finished his tea, rereading her e-mail, the stories warming him as much as his fears for Buffy chilled him. Tea finished he left the café. As the day waned he realized that he'd need to find a place to sleep. He'd never had this much time without interruption and it was odd to have to assume the responsibility for his meals and a roof over his head. He booked a room and had some dinner. Then he strolled back over to the Café and signed in again. She had written. He had known that she would. He knew she probably checked her laptop a dozen times a day on his account and the thought touched him.
**Giles, I am so sorry. Buffy died not long after you left. Spike found her. She never really recovered from you leaving and her finding out what she did to you and to the rest of them, and knowing that she couldn't ever…well you know. The whole thing seems so cruel, the life of slayers I mean. They really can't have a life, can they? They really are just a tool. I guess I never really believed that because you didn't, and it seemed as if Buffy could maybe have a life. She was so lucky to have you as her watcher. She had so many things in her life that she wouldn't have had otherwise. We were all lucky to have you.
As long as I'm telling you things you probably don't want to hear I need to tell you something else. I am in England, at the Council. I started my watcher training this fall. I thought I could make a difference but as I read this e-mail I wonder what the cost will be. How can I take on a slayer now? How can I not just look at her and feel pity for her, and anger at the injustice of it all? I wish you were here with me now. How I would welcome your wisdom and comfort as I make my way in the world. I miss you every day, so much. Ooh, guess what? Spike is here, and he said to send his love!**
Giles wanted to respond while he still could, so he put his grieving on hold for a moment.
**Willow. Thank you for telling me. She didn't deserve this, and you are right, it is cruel. Too much is asked of them, these extraordinary young women. I do not think I could ever be a watcher again if the choice were mine to make. I respect your choice though and will support you regardless of your decision.
Please understand that I wouldn't change having been a watcher because without it I wouldn't have met all of you, and I wouldn't have had the opportunity to train and work with Buffy, who truly was the best. Being her watcher made me proud. Being your friend continues to make me proud. I would never choose to not have lived the life I lived if it meant losing that. Take care Willow and know that I miss you too. And please keep your guard up around Spike. I will write when next I can.**
He signed off and went back to his room. He curled up on the bed and wept.
Over the next few weeks whenever he came to he would immediately find an Internet location and check in with Willow. He laughed at the irony that after fighting them for so long that computers and the web had become the focal point of his life. Willow had become his reason for living. She gave him something to look forward to and he clung to it like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. He never told her where he was. He didn't want to put that burden on her. He wanted her to be able to honestly say she had no idea of his location if she was discovered.
Willow lived for his e-mails as well. She never knew when one would arrive. Sometimes in the middle of one he just stopped, right in the middle of the sentence, as if he'd hit the send button and then run away. He never told her why and she never asked. She was afraid she knew. She liked to pretend but she knew that despite the few minutes that they shared that nothing had changed. He was still possessed by his magic, evil, and lethal.
She could still remember how he had been, what she had felt inside of him those two awful days before he left. The memory still had the power to terrify her. She never spoke of it to him but she had continued looking for a spell to cure him. She had been determined before but now that he had gotten in touch with her she attacked the problem with single-minded diligence. She had found so many promising leads but she had been met with one discouraging dead end after another.
Spike was her only confidant. Without him, she would have gone crazy. She knew she'd have exploded by now if she hadn't been able to tell someone. She would have been so lonely without him, without him and Giles. She laughed silently at herself, at her companions, one a vampire, one a rogue watcher. The Council would have a heart attack if they only knew. No wonder she didn't feel like she was fitting in. She wanted to go home fiercely but she was determined to give it at least a year, stubbornly refusing to give up this easily.
Spike was the one who found it, found the spell. He hadn't even been looking for it. There were a couple of bars that he frequented. They were good bars, they left you alone, and they didn't ask questions. Most of the clientele were regulars and he returned the favor and left them alone. He wanted to be able to come back. That night there was someone new sitting slumped over at the bar. Some old man, three sheets to the wind. Spike snorted and looked away. Then Spike noticed the ring on his finger, the same ring Giles had always worn, his watcher ring.
Spike's eyebrows rose. No watchers ever came in here. It wasn't that kind of bar. Spike decided to try and chat him up. Maybe this joker knew something about Giles, some news he could pass on to Willow. Spike sort of missed Giles. Not much, but some. In between Giles trying to kill him, or insult him, he'd almost been good company. Besides Willow wanted him back.
Spike sashayed over to the old man. "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" The old man slowly looked up at Spike, his eyes trying hard to focus. He looked back down at his empty cup. He nodded, his need for oblivion making him careless. Spike grabbed the man by his arm and escorted him to a quiet booth in the back.
He got him situated and got them both drinks, returning to the booth. Spike bit his lip wondering how to best take advantage of this situation. He always had done blunt best. "So, any news on the rogue watcher?"
The man shook his head. "They lost him again." He was too drunk to guard his tongue, and too sick at heart to care. "They tracked him yesterday to Las Vegas, and then they lost him."
"He's still in the states?" Spike was surprised. He figured Giles would have gotten farther than Nevada.
The man snorted. His words were slurred but clear enough. "He's been leading them a merry chase across the globe. He just got back to the states a few weeks ago. He's too smart for them, he's always been too smart for them." The man smiled tightly, a look of satisfaction on his face. Then it coalesced to sadness. He took another sip of his drink, then another.
"You knew Rupert then?"
The man nodded.
"Good friends, were you?"
Only his vampire hearing allowed him to catch the reply. "Not any more."
Spike nodded. "Because he went rogue?"
The man shook his head. Spike waited but the man didn't say anything else.
"Well, I guess he got what he deserved, sleeping with his slayer and all." Spike watched the man carefully, watched him as he froze. Spike's eyes narrowed.
The man lifted his head up looking at Spike, a guarded look finally appearing in his eyes. "Who are you?"
Spike just pointed at the man's drink. "Want another one?"
The man's eyes teared up, and then he nodded. Spike rolled his eyes as he got up. This guy was a loser.
He returned with his drink half expecting the man to be gone but he was still there, staring off. Spike slid his drink in front of him. "Here ya go mate."
The man grasped the drink tightly, taking a large swallow, finishing off half the drink. Spike raised his eyebrows. "What are you tryin' to drown in there?" He waited for a response but got none. "If it's not because he's gone rogue, why aren't you and Rupert still the best of friends?"
Again Spike had to strain to hear. "I've betrayed him." The man shakily put his drink down and covered his face with his hands.
"How's that? What do you mean, betrayed him?"
"I knew, I knew and I didn't say anything."
Spike sat up straighter. "What exactly did you know?"
"The spell, the spell that would help him. I knew it and I kept silent, and I've killed him. His death is on my hands." He picked up his drink and finished it.
Spike wanted to kill this man. He held still for a moment fighting the blood lust down. "You knew the spell." He didn't ask it as a question.
The man nodded.
"You knew the spell and you didn't say a bloody thing." Again spoken as statement.
The man nodded.
"Why?" He got no answer. He asked again, grabbing the man's wrist to get his attention. "Why?"
"They'd have wanted to know how I knew. I couldn't tell them, I'd have been fired. I'm too old to start over. I'm too old."
"How did you know?" Spike's grip got harder. "How did you know?"
"I slept with my slayer. I loved her. God, how I loved her." The man started to cry in earnest.
Spike fought hard to keep his human face on, he could feel the demon wanting to emerge. He struggled to be patient, needing more information. "Why didn't it affect you? How did you know what to do?"
"I had the chronicles that told of it. The journal had been in my family for generations. It's how I knew I could sleep with her, that I could love her. God, I miss her still."
"What is it?"
The man shook his head. Spike snapped his wrist. "What the bloody hell is it?"
The man let out a moan. He looked at Spike with a bewildered look in his eyes. Spike grabbed tighter. There was no mercy in him. "Tell me the spell." The man spit out four lines of verse. Spike let go. The man slumped back in the booth, holding his wrist. Spike looked at him.
"That's it? That's the spell? Four sodding lines? This is the mystery that has escaped every watcher other than you for centuries?"
The man wearily nodded his head. "They both need to say it. They need to say it together."
"His slayer's dead."
"Then someone with magic needs to say the spell with the watcher. It can still be broken."
"Write it down."
The man shook his head, holding up his broken wrist. Spike let out a frustrated noise. He reached over and going through the man's inside jacket pocket found a pen. He grabbed a napkin. "Say it again." He had the man repeat it several times. Spike folded the napkin and put it in his pocket. He looked at the man sitting across from him and couldn't remember hating anyone more. Buffy was dead because of him. For nothing, because of this weak, useless man. Spike stood. He walked over to the man, checked around and made sure no one was watching. He reached for him and snapped his neck. He let him drop back into the booth. He didn't want this man's blood. "Consider yourself fired."
Spike swept out of the bar, annoyed that he probably wouldn't be able to go back there. He had to find Willow. She was leaving tomorrow afternoon to go home to Sunnydale for the holidays. He knew it was a risk but he walked inside the Council doors, heading for her room. He had been there a couple of times, but always late at night, and always with her. He had to hide a couple of times to avoid being seen but made it to her room unscathed, rapping harshly on her door. "Willow, open up, it's me, Spike."
She opened it and looked at him, her eyes wide. "What's the matter? Why are you here?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the napkin. He handed it to her without a word. She read it, not understanding. He pointed at it. "That's the bloody spell. That's all someone had to do. Giles and Buffy just needed to say those four sodding lines and none of this would have happened."
Willow's knees gave out and she dropped to the floor. Spike paced up and down. Willow held the napkin tightly. "I don't understand, how did you find this?"
"Some drunken watcher having an attack of conscience. He needed to confess." Spike spoke sarcastically, wishing the man were here before him so he could beat the crap out of him. Willow looked at him, disbelief in her eyes. Spike spoke again. "This friggin' watcher shagged his slayer, he was in love." Spike spoke that word with derision. "It's a family spell apparently, not good enough for anyone else. He knew the whole time. He could have stopped it but he didn't. He was afraid he'd get fired." Spike kicked Willow's bed and the leg caved in and the bed crashed to the ground.
Willow got up and gingerly put the napkin on her desk. She picked a clean piece of paper and rewrote it. She wrote it several times on several pieces of paper. She was terrified she'd throw it away by accident. Once that task was done she hugged herself very tightly slowly sitting back on the floor, starting to cry. Spike scowled. He bent down to try and fix the leg of the bed.
Willow raised teary eyes to him. "Spike, what do I do? What do I do now?"
"What do you mean what do you do now? You do the spell. The bastard said someone with magic could do it in place of the slayer. So tell Giles. Tell him you found the spell. He'll come home, you hand him one of those pieces of paper, you say the spell with him and it's done."
Willow shook her head. "He told me not to tell him. He told me that whatever he was turning into wouldn't want to change back. He said he'd come and kill me, that he'd kill us all. I can't fight him, he's too strong, Buffy couldn't even fight him." If it was just her, Willow wouldn't have hesitated, but Giles knew she was heading back to Sunnydale. If she told him he'd go there. She couldn't risk everybody.
Spike needed to kill something badly. "What the hell are you talking about? You've been looking for the damn spell for months. What were you going to do with it, frame it? You have to tell him. It's not fair not to tell him."
Willow shook her head. "He'll kill Xander and Anya, and Tara. He'll kill the new slayer and her watcher. He'll kill us all. You didn't see him; you didn't see what he was like. I need to think. If I tell him I don't know if it will be Giles that shows up. I need to figure out a way to meet with him alone just in case, so I don't get everybody killed."
Spike shook his head. He knew he was taking a gamble. "I can fight him."
Willow looked at him. "Spike, he's still human. You can't hurt him."
Spike just looked at her. "I can." He watched her as his meaning sank in. She cowered away from him on the floor. He rolled his eyes. "Willow, the chip failed right after Buffy died. Have I hurt you?" She shook her head. "Have I hurt any of you?" She shook her head again. "That's right, and I won't, so get the hurt bunny look out of your eyes. I can help you here."
"He almost killed Buffy."
"Buffy didn't go against him knowing what to expect. He was her watcher; she let her guard down. He won't be expecting me to be able to hurt him."
"I don't want you to get hurt."
"Do you want him back or not?"
"Not if I exchange yours or their lives for his. Not if I let him hurt someone, hurt me, and then make him have to live with that. How can I do that to him?"
"Do you want him back or not?"
"Of course I do, how can you even ask that? But it's too soon and it's not that simple."
Spike thought it was. "I know where he was yesterday. I can go find him. I can knock him out and keep him unconscious and bring him to you. When he wakes up, you do the spell. Simple."
Willow shook his head. "Or he wakes up, kills me, kills you, and destroys Sunnydale. Spike, I need some time. I need to figure out the best way to do it."
Spike walked to the door. "Will you be at home, at your parent's house?"
She nodded. "Not that they'll be there. They're off on some research thing." He could see the hurt in her eyes.
"I'll see you there then. Get everything ready." He walked out the door. She was up in a flash.
"No, Spike!" She ran out the door but he was running and going around the corner at the end of the hall already. Her heart was pounding; she felt sick to her stomach. She would never catch him. She stood there immobilized with fear. Then she snapped out of it and started pulling books off her shelves. She started looking for spells, spells for protection, spells for binding, spells for repelling, and she began to read.
End Chapter 4