Giles set his book down.  He was trying to concentrate, but his thought’s kept returning to Willow, and her concern for Spike.  The girl had unwavering compassion and limitless love, however she wasn’t one to overreact.  If she was concerned, there was probably good reason to be.  The problem was, he couldn’t seem to find out any information.  Gile’s knew that Riley had the answers they sought, however, he was also fairly certain the boy had no intention of providing them.

     Willow walked briskly to Spike’s house.  There were still a few hours before sunset, so she knew he was probably sleeping.  But she wanted to make sure he was okay.  She couldn’t really explain it, but an overwhelming sense of trepidation had come over her.

   When she arrived at his house, she walked in after a moment’s hesitation.  It was completely silent.  Which was to be expected, but there was something off. It just didn’t feel right.
   She walked into his bedroom carefully, and nearly gasped at the sight.  Spike was lying on the bed, apparently sleeping.  But what shocked her was the way he looked.  His body looked stiff, and he was sweating.  *Could vampires even sweat? *

   Willow sat on the bed and took a closer look.  She was almost afraid to touch him. She gently laid a hand against his skin, and was shocked to find it feeling warm.  A clammy, icky kind of warmth, but warm nonetheless.  She had been accustomed to the coldness of his skin, and the warmth she felt now, gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Something was wrong, very wrong.

    Willow was frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity.  Something was wrong with Spike.  He was unnaturally warm.  He was sweating blood, and he wouldn’t wake up.  She was scared.  Beyond anything she could even come close to expressing.  Frantic was the closest thing to what she was feeling.
   She bent over him on his bed with a cool washcloth and wiped his bloody brow.  It had been over an hour since she had returned to his house and found him like this.  She hadn’t hesitated in calling Giles.  It had taken her almost fifteen minutes for her to calm down enough to tell Giles what had happened, in a language that would resemble English.
   She ached.  Her mind, her body, her soul.  They all ached.  It was then she realized that her feelings for Spike were much more than she had ever acknowledged.  She felt a cold rage come over her with the knowledge that this wasn’t natural.  Something, someone had done this to him.  She wanted to find them, and hurt them.  The feeling was new. Something that she never would have believed she was capable of.  But here she was, entertaining thoughts of deadly violence against those who had hurt him.  She smiled to herself as she thought of how proud he would be of her dark thoughts.  The smile didn’t last. She feared she would never get the chance to share her violent thoughts with the vampire.
 

    “Willow?”  Gile’s soft voice came from the doorway.  She turned to look at her mentor, and friend. He was smiling sadly at her.
“I’m afraid.  I’m afraid I haven’t been able to find anything out.”  Giles walked towards the young girl.  He felt her pain.  He had grown to like the vampire.  He had a way about him, which amused the watcher, though he would never admit it.
   He had seen the friendship develop between the vampire and the witch, and unlike the rest of their little group, was not surprised, nor perturbed by their closeness.  He realized that their feelings for one another ran deep, deeper than they even realized.
Giles took the cloth away from Willow, and was surprised by the heat that was radiating from the vampire's normally cold body.
  “I don’t know what’s causing this.  I don’t… I don’t know what to tell you.  I don’t know what to do.”

   Willow nodded slightly and stood up from the bed. “I do.”  She walked towards the doorway, and just before she reached it, she stopped and turned to her friend.  “Giles?  Can you… Can you stay here and keep an eye on him?”  She asked, looking the man in the eye, pleading with him.  Giles nodded.
“Of course.  Where are you going?”
“To find the people who did this.”  She turned back towards the doorway, not giving Gile’s a chance to protest.

    Willow left Spike’s house with one thought on her mind.  Help Spike. She didn’t know exactly how she was going to do it, but she had to.  She couldn’t just sit back and watch him die.  She wasn’t that strong.  However, she was unsure of where exactly to begin.  She knew that whatever was wrong with Spike was related to The Initiative and the implant they had embedded in Spike’s cranium.  She knew that it would have to be removed, but she didn’t know enough about it, to do it safely.

   She needed help, she knew.  And there was only once person she could think of who could help her, would help her.  That is if she could persuade them.

   Willow had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she did not notice the man following her.  Mark had gone to the house he had followed her to the previous night.  He wanted to know what was going on.  Whose house was it?  And how were they related to Willow?  Was it her boyfriend?  He realized that he was bordering on obsessive, but he needed to know.  He told himself that she could be in danger, so that he was just protecting her.

   He followed her to the older man’s house.  He had been told he was a watcher.  But he had been outside of the strange house long enough to see the Watcher come, and he had not left.  So, if the watcher was at the mysterious house, why was Willow going to his?  What was she doing there?
   He hid behind a tree and waited for her to come out.  He was going to confront her.

      Willow entered Giles house, and sat on the couch, holding his phone.  She was trying to decide whether or not she should make the phone call.  She didn’t want to involve him.  Spike wouldn’t be pleased, but she needed help.  She couldn’t get the information she needed alone.  And he did have a responsibility to Spike, didn’t he?  He would want to know what had happened.
   She took a deep breath and dialed the number.  After five rings, Willow glanced at the clock.  She noticed it was still afternoon, and wondered where he could be.
On the seventh ring, the telephone was answered by a very groggy voice.
“Hello?”  He sounded irritated. * I probably woke him up! * Willow thought.
“Angel?  I need your help.”  She didn’t have time to play the polite conversation game. "I need you to come to Sunnydale. It’s urgent.”  She realized she was on the verge of crying, but she didn’t care.
“Willow?” Angel’s voice rang through the line.  “What is it?  Is it Buffy?”
Willow groaned under her breath.  “No.  It’s not.  She’s fine, but… But Spike isn’t.”
Willow paused waiting for Angel’s reaction to his childe’s name.  She didn’t have to wait long.
“Spike?  What’s he done?”  Willow could hear the annoyance in the older vampire’s voice and fought down the urge to snap.
“He hasn’t done anything.  He’s sick.  Really sick.  I think he may die… permanently.”
  For a long moment Angel didn’t say anything and Willow feared he may have hung up.
“Angel? Are you there?”  She asked timidly.
“Yes.  I’m on my way.”  He hung up the phone and Willow breathed a sigh of relief.