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Title: Only in My Dreams
Author: Karen U
E-mail: ksu2@juno.com
Rating: PG-13
Distribution: W/Gr list archive, Charity, Witch Fan Fic
Disclaimer: all BtVS and Angel characters belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, and
Fox
Summary: Faith's thirst for revenge has some dire consequences
Spoilers: Halfway through "This Year's Girl"
Notes: The spoilers go up to the point where Riley asks "Who's Faith?" while
Faith is listening and watching at the window. It's about a day after that,
and no one has seen her yet. Faith, however, has beem spying on them
Feedback: Yes

Prologue

"I won’t do it!"

"And you think you have a choice?" the brunette asked.

"I won’t do anything to hurt Willow! What did she ever do to you?"

"She exists," Faith hissed, thinking about the time Willow had insulted her
in the mayor’s office. It was time for payback. Besides that, it would
really hurt Buffy.

"That’s not enough reason," the blonde told her plaintively, and Faith
grabbed her by the throat.

"And I why do I even need a reason?" she asked, squeezing the girl’s throat,
causing her to gasp for breath. "All you need to know is this: if you don’t
help me, I’ll kill you. Now, what do you say?"

The girl gulped, her eyes wide as saucers. She had no doubt that the girl
would live up to her threats. "Fine. What do you want?"

Faith shoved her towards the bed, and Tara was finally able to see the
supplies that were on her bed. She’d come back from a class only to be
grabbed by the unknown brunette, and she had no idea what was going on.

"How did you know I’m a witch?" she asked as she saw the witchcraft supplies
on her bed.

"I saw you with Red earlier today. Played off a hunch, raided your room.
You had everything you need for the spell right here. You’re going to do
this." Faith told her, shoving a book in her hands. The blonde read over
the spell, her eyes widening in disbelief. She shoved the book back into
Faith’s arms.

"You can’t be serious."

"I want her to suffer," Faith snarled, edging closer to the other girl.
Tara instinctively took a step back. This girl had to be nuts.

"No. I won’t do it," she protested vehemently.

Faith looked at her curiously, then smiled widely as she stepped closer to
the blonde. "Well, well, well. It looks like somebody has a crush. Sorry,
my dear witch, but Willow doesn’t swing that way. If I thought she did, I’d
have gone after her myself. She is a cute little thing. So innocent. I
would’ve loved to corrupt her. But she had wolfboy. So, no go. Besides,
now I hate her. So she gets to suffer. I want her to feel pain," Faith
hissed, taking Tara’s hand and bending it backwards. Not hard enough to
break it, but hard enough to hurt like hell. The blonde’s eyes filled with
tears, and she whimpered. "Now remember," Faith told her, her face less
than an inch away. "Either Willow hurts, or you hurt. And if you make me
hurt you, I will eventually kill you. What’ll it be, bitch?"

Tears dripped down the blonde girl’s face. "I’ll do it," she whispered.
Faith released her quickly, shoving the girl to the floor. She pulled a
picture out of her pocket; she’d gotten it from a back issue of the college
paper. She smiled at her choice. She had seen the way the guy had winced
earlier in the day, as well as the stiff way he had moved. She just hoped
he had nightmares about whatever had caused the pain he was in.

"The one in the center," Faith told Tara as she handed her the black and
white picture. She also pulled out a picture of Willow; she knew it would
be needed. "He’s the one you connect her with."

Tara nodded slowly, her movements jerky as she gathered the ingredients for
the spell. She quickly cast the circle, eager to get it over with. She
hoped the other girl would leave as soon as the spell was done. Within
minutes, Tara had the candles burning and the potion complete. Chanting the
words of the spell, she poured the mixture over the picture of Willow, then
onto the image of the young man. As she poured, she finished the spell, and
the candles glowed brighter for a moment, then burnt out.

"It’s done," she said dully.

"Good," Faith replied with a wicked smile. "I’ll leave now. But don’t even
think about reversing the spell, because if you do, you’re dead," she
reminded Tara as she walked out the door.

Tears running down her cheeks, Tara tossed all the remains of the spell in
the trash, including the pictures she had used.

She didn’t even notice that the potion had spread over the picture of the
men, covering all three guys.


Part One

He tossed and turned in bed, a low moan escaping his lips. His eyelids
fluttered, signaling REM, and he was lost in a dream. Actually, it was a
nightmare.

And it wasn’t even his own.

< He was at the zoo. Only… he wasn't really himself. In fact, he thought
he might be a girl. A man had grabbed him, and a strap had been wrapped
around his wrists, effectively immobilizing him. He flailed slightly, and
he felt wispy material brushing against his legs. He was wearing a skirt.

Oh, yeah. Definitely female.

The man held a knife up to his throat, and he could feel his heart pounding.
He said something to the man - he couldn’t remember the words, he was too
stunned to hear the female voice come out of his mouth.

Just then, a group of teenagers ran in, led by a familiar female figure.

"Buffy, it’s a trap!" the person whose body he was currently occupying cried
out in warning.

The Slayer - who was a few years younger and less blonde than he remembered
- stumbled to a halt, then was jumped by four teenager who seemed as if they
had gone feral. He knew instinctively that they were possessed by
something. Then the man who was holding him said a few words in some
unknown language.

He looked into he man’s eyes, and saw the same feral quality that had been
in the teens’. He felt the man’s grip tighten on his head, and he squeezed
his eyes shut, waiting for the worst.

Then... it was over.

Well, not exactly over, just different.

He was in a house now. He had a phone held up to his ear, and he could hear
a British voice - definitely male - on the other end.

"Jenny’s dead," the Englishman said in a voice almost devoid of emotion.
The man sounded like he was in shock.

He dropped the phone from his ear. He had no idea who this Jenny person
was, but he could feel the grief that was pouring through the body he was
inhabiting. He burst into ragged sobs, and he could hear the feminine voice
- his voice - practically wailing the word ‘no’ over and over again.

Suddenly a blonde woman gripped his shoulders, and he caught a glimpse of
his reflection - a slightly familiar female reflection - before the woman
pulled him close. As he looked over the woman’s shoulder, he once again saw
the Slayer, this time a slightly older, much blonder version. Buffy was
slumped against the wall, looking dazed and devastated. He closed his eyes
against the sight, not wanting to feel sorry for the girl.

When he opened his eyes again, the scene was once again different. He was
still in the same body, but it was harder to follow what was happening now.
He was in a library, of that he was certain. He was in the stacks, running
from something.

Vampires.

He saw their faces, the deformity that marked them as demon. He also saw
several others in the room, people he instinctively knew were friends. He
saw a dark-haired boy he had met before - Xander - and three other humans.
He ran further into the stacks, the long red hair of the girl he was
inhabiting swinging into his face, blocking his vision. He jerked back and
forth, trying to figure if a vampire was on the other side of the bookcase.

Then, it happened. The bookcase came tumbling down on top of him, too
quickly for him to get out of the way. He could feel the weight of the
books and the wooden bookcase hit him, and he fell to the floor.

Then... darkness. >

Forrest Gates sat up in bed, gasping for breath and holding his head,
fighting off the nausea that threatened him. Moaning, he turned the light
on and went to the mirror. His mouth dropped open as he registered what he
saw.

His eyes were puffy and red from crying, and he had raw spots on his wrists
from where his hands had apparently been bound. But that was nothing
compared to the bruised and bloody bump on his left temple.

What the hell was going on?

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

He tossed and turned, groaning as he rolled over onto his stomach, ending up
with his face buried in his pillow. He unconsciously beat his pillow into a
more appealing shape, then burrowed into it, caught in a dream he
desperately wanted to escape.

< He was in the hall of a school. A large hand was around his throat; the
other was locked tightly on his upper arm. He took a gasping breath, and he
could feel tears of pain and fear welling in his eyes. His eyes widened as
his vision cleared and two figures came into view. He’d never seen the
woman before, but the boy looked vaguely familiar.

"Don’t do that!" the boy cried.

"Oh, I think I do that," a male voice said in his ear. The person holding
him changed his grip slightly, and he cried out, stunned to discover that
the voice that came from his mouth was definitely feminine.

"Angel!"

Dear God, who was he? And who the hell was Angel? As he tried to figure
out what the hell was going on, the next few moments went by in a blur. He
was aware of people speaking, including the woman. He was also aware of
something else. The person that held him had no heartbeat.

It was a vampire.

And the vampire had just said something about someone named Buffy.

He gasped as the vampire squeezed harder, and his brain began to try to
comprehend what was going on around him. What had the vampire said?
Something about a having a message for Buffy?

"Then why don’t you give it to me yourself?" The voice - definitely the
Slayer’s - came from the other direction, and he gasped as the vampire spun
around, dragging him with it.

Buffy, obviously a year or two younger than she was currently, stood at the
door. He tried to concentrate on what was being said, but things were
fuzzy. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the fear that raced through him
or the lack of oxygen. Then, just as things threatened to go black, he felt
himself get thrown at the young man, and he hit the floor hard, tumbling on
top of the boy, who was apparently holding a cross.

He and the young man turned to look at Buffy and the vampire...

...And the scene changed.

He was carefully making his way down a ladder , and he assumed that he was
the same girl he had been in the last segment of the dream. He was wearing
a long dress, and he could feel the relief of the girl he was currently
inhabiting as he made it to the ground. He spun around, a smile on his
face... only to discover that he wasn’t alone.

"Hello, Red," a brunette said with a nasty smile.

He tried to run, but the girl grabbed him, twisting his arm behind his back.
He cringed as he felt her put a knife to his throat.

"Scream, and I’ll kill you," the girl whispered dangerously...

... "I’ll scream," he heard himself warn in a frightened female voice. He
was shocked to discover that he was staring directly into the demonic face
of Hostile 17. Realization of whose body he was in - Buffy’s little
redheaded friend Willow - hit him in a flash as Hostile 17 grinned wickedly
at him.

"Bonus," the vampire said.

He opened his mouth and screamed, but the vampire simply covered his mouth
and turned the CD player up before tossing him onto the bed. He struggled
wildly as the vampire straddled him, grinning cruelly as it caught his hands
and leaned closer, going for the kill... >

Graham Miller jerked awake, gasping into his pillow. Shaking, he forced
himself into a sitting position. Knowing it was childish but needing the
reassurance, he turned his lamp on, looking around the room for any sign of
a creature of the night. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized there
wasn’t any. And that was when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He
was sweating, gasping for breath, and he looked terrified.

And there was a hand-shaped bruise circling his throat.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

He tossed and turned in bed, unable to get comfortable. He had slept
restlessly ever since his injury, and tonight was no exception. However,
tonight his sleep was marred by something entirely different.

< It had him by the leg. Dear Lord, it had him by the leg. And he was
apparently wearing tights to conceal that leg. Something very strange was
going on. He could feel someone holding onto him, locked in a tug-of-war
with the demon that had sprouted out of the center of the library and
latched onto him. He could hear people screaming, and he was surprised to
discover that one of the voices appeared to be coming from him.

And he was a she.

"Giles!!!" The voice came from his throat, and he knew it was familiar,
though he couldn’t place who it belonged to. He saw Giles with an ax,
attempting to free him from the demon. The demon, however, wasn’t about to
give up. It tugged harder, dragging him ever closer to the hole in the
floor...

And then it happened.

The ugliest, most disgusting vampire he had ever seen came crashing through
the ceiling, impaling itself on a jagged piece of wood...

...He was in a mansion. A woman stood just a few feet away, a odd looking
glove covering her head. He watched, frightened and fascinated as she cried
out in another language, then pointed her hand and... shot a FLAME out of
her glove. He watched, horrified as the bolt headed towards Buffy and
another girl, then began to tremble as she turned to him. Dear God, he was
going to die.

Just as she said the words and took aim, a figure - a vampire in full demon
face - came rushing at him, shoving him to the ground as the bolt whizzed
past. He landed hard, his hands taking the brunt of the fall, and he could
feel the ridges of the vampire’s deformed face against his neck...

...He was in a chemistry lab, and his cheek was stinging from a blow of some
sort. Two creatures were with him, and they appeared to be only half human.
Fascinated and terrified, he realized that one of them was that Oz guy,
Willow’s ex-boyfriend. And that was when he realized who he was.

He was Willow Rosenberg.

"Animals kill," the half-human female was saying.

"You’re right. Animals kill," half-human Oz said before lunging at the
female. The two went at each other with a vengeance, and he watched,
stunned, as they turned completely into animals. They were werewolves.

Willow had dated a werewolf.

The two tore into each other, growling and snarling as they bit and clawed.
It was easy to tell the two apart, the light and the dark. Suddenly, Oz had
the female pinned, and she whimpered. The whimper trailed off quickly,
though, and Oz raised his head, his mouth covered with the dead werewolf’s
blood.

He had killed her.

The thought cause his stomach to turn, even as he felt himself open his
mouth and say in Willow’s trembling voice, "Oz?"

The werewolf lunged for him just as Buffy came into the room. Without
hesitation, she aimed and fired a tranquilizer dart into Oz. He couldn’t
tell whether or not Buffy said anything, all he could feel was the sobs that
shook his - no, Willow’s - body. Buffy came over to him, dropping the gun.
She knelt beside him and pulled him close, but he didn’t really feel any of
it.

All he felt was Willow’s pain... >

Riley Finn awoke, not at all surprised to discover that he was in tears.
His hands were skinned rather badly, but he didn’t notice it as he sat up
and pressed his hands to his eyes.

He remained that way for the rest of the night, crying for Willow.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

She rolled onto her back, moaning in her sleep...

< The headlights shone brightly, and she blinked against the sudden light.
The car in the other lane suddenly swerved, crossing over the center lane.
The driver - a man she had never seen before - turned the wheel as hard as
he could, trying to avoid the oncoming car, but it was no use. Tires
squealed and glass shattered loudly, and she cringed against the noise. She
flinched as she felt glass spray across her face and arms, and she cried out
- in a decidedly male voice - as the seatbelt caught her suddenly, causing
her ribs to crack. The sounds of screaming hit her ears, but it soon faded,
and all she heard was silence. And that was the worst sound of all...

...Fists. Fists pounded into her, raining down on her back brutally. She
gritted her teeth to keep from crying out, somehow knowing it would just be
worse if she did. Tears came to her eyes as an especially harsh blow caught
the side of her head. Her vision blurred, and she winced as she was jerked
up off the floor. Her eyes encountered an incredibly angry male face, and
she wondered desperately what she had done to deserve this beating. Then,
then man threw her to the ground, and she hit her head of the corner of the
table, falling into blissful unconsciousness...

...She was sick. She could feel the trembling was ran through her body, and
she was staring at a monster that had obviously been pieced together by some
kind of Dr. Frankenstein wannabe. She realized with a jolt that this
creature was Adam, and, given the condition that she was in, she had to
be... Riley.

Oh, God.

She tried to force herself awake, not wanting to see what happened next, but
it was useless. One second, she was standing in front of Adam, the next he
had impaled her, and she was flying through the air, crying out at she hit
the wall... >

Buffy jolted awake at Willow’s strangled cry. "Will? Are you awake? Did
you have a nightmare or something?" she asked urgently, her heart pounding.
Something was wrong, she was sure of it. The room felt... eerie. The
Slayer waited for Willow to answer, her uneasiness increasing with every
passing second. "Will? Willow? Are you okay?" she asked as she flipped on
her lamp.

She screamed when she saw the blood.

Part Two

Riley stood at the sink scrubbing his hands, and he winced as the soap stung
the torn flesh of his palms. Little rivers of water tinged with blood
trailed down from the small wounds. Tears of pain sprang to his already red
and puffy eyes as he picked the grit out of the numerous scrapes. He had no
idea how the bits of dirt and rock had gotten there, or even how the scrapes
themselves had gotten there. It wasn’t that he didn’t remember the dream;
he did. He had photographic memories featuring surround sound of the
nightmare he’d had the night before. He just didn’t understand how he’d
managed to wake up maintaining the injuries he’d sustained while he was
asleep.

While he was dreaming he was in Willow’s body.

He wondered if what had occurred was some sort of Hellmouthy experience.
Buffy had tried to explain to him about the Hellmouth, but he hadn’t
completely understood everything. He had, however, gotten enough out of it
to know that it was a very bad and dangerous thing, and that it was why
there was evil always seemed to congregate in Sunnydale. He was also fairly
certain that he had seen the creature that had come out of the Hellmouth
during his dream the night before. His dream... Willow’s dream. Buffy had
mentioned her prophetic dreams to him, and she had also mentioned a time
during her sophomore year when everyone’s nightmares started coming true.
He wondered if this was some variation of that, if somehow he and Willow had
become connected, and her nightmares had been transferred to him.

The exhausted TA studied his now scrubbed clean hands, making sure he had
gotten all the grit and soap off of them before raising them to his eyes to
his eyes, rubbing them lightly. His head hurt like hell from his earlier
crying jag on Willow’s behalf, and his eyes ached. He wondered if Willow
was having much the same experience this morning. He figured that, if her
dream had indeed somehow invaded his unconscious as well as her own, she
must be. He heaved a sigh. The poor thing. She had been through so much,
and she was only nineteen. He had no doubt that what he’d seen in the dream
had actually happened. Everything had been too sharp, too clear and
detailed, to be the random workings of her unconscious.

He had been experiencing her memories.

Riley was knocked out of his musings as the door to the bathroom swung open,
and he was surprised to see both Graham and Forrest standing there.

"What happened to you?" Forrest asked as he took in the disheveled
appearance of his friend. The man looked as if he had been up all night, it
was obvious he had spent quite a bit of time crying, and his hands were a
mess.

"I could ask you the same question. Both of you, as a matter of fact,"
Riley said, his eyes widening at the sight of his friends. They both looked
rather the worse for wear. Forrest had a rather nasty bump on the side of
his head that definitely hadn’t been there the last time Riley had seen him,
and Graham had a nasty bruise encircling his throat. "Did you two get in a
fight with a Hostile or something? I didn’t think you were on duty last
night."

"We weren’t," Graham stated in his usual concise manner. He rarely said
more than necessary, and Riley appreciated that, for the most part. It was
a big help when they were on patrol; he never had to tell Graham to get to
the point. Now, the man’s silence just frustrated him. Riley turned his
eyes to Forrest, who was often more than willing to speak enough for both
himself and their quiet friend.

"It wasn’t a Hostile that did this to us, either," Forrest said in an
uncharacteristically soft voice as he raised his hand to gently touch the
bump on his head, wincing as he did so. It still hurt something awful, and
his head felt as if it was about two sizes larger than normal. He and
Graham had briefly discussed their experiences the night before - they both
knew that they’d had dreams about the slayer’s redheaded friend but that was
it - and they had no idea how to explain what had happened. The two of them
had decided to go to Riley and ask him to help them get answers and to help
them stop whatever it was that was going on. The only other option they had
was to go directly to Willow herself, and they had a feeling that the Slayer
had warned her friend away from them. Besides that, they didn’t want to
just appear and thrust this all on her. They were virtual strangers, and
they didn’t want to frighten or overwhelm her. Although they hadn’t
discussed what had happened in the dreams just yet, it was painfully obvious
to them both that the redhead had been through a lot. The wounds they had
sustained during the dreams was proof enough of that. Forrest snuck another
look at his silent friend. The bruise on the man’s throat looked painful,
and he wondered just exactly what had been in the nightmare Graham had
gotten. Whatever it was, it had to have been bad.

"What did this to you?" Riley asked, an awful sense of foreboding hitting
him. He glanced down at his own ravaged hands, then looked back at his
battered friends. The marks that they wore were vicious, and he hated to
think that they may had been from an experience similar to his own. He
hated to even entertain the notion that Willow had been through whatever had
caused their injuries. Perhaps they were connected to another of Buffy’s
friends instead...

"It’s kind of a long story," Forrest began, only to be interrupted by the
appearance of Jeff Simlin, another member of the Initiative.

"Hey, Finn, your phone was ringing off the hook, so I grabbed it for you,"
he announced as he entered the room.

"Who was it?" Riley asked irritably, annoyed at being interrupted. He was
also surprised by the fact that Jeff hadn’t seemed to notice the appearance
of the three men he was talking to. He obviously wasn’t the Initiative’s
most observant agent.

"It’s some guy named Xander. He’s still on the line, and he says he needs
to talk to you now. Claims it’s urgent, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was
about."

Riley’s head spun at that realization. Something had happened; he was sure
of it. But why was it Xander that was calling him? Oh, God... "Buffy," he
uttered softly before pushing his way past his friends. Fear pricked his
skin as he headed down the hall toward his room. He had just found Buffy;
he couldn’t handle it if something happened to her now. Taking a shaky
breath, Riley entered his room and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Xander breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Riley’s voice over the line.
He hated laying this on the guy, but he knew that Riley’s presence would
probably help the Slayer’s state of mind. He also knew that Riley would
want to know what was going on. Xander glanced around the glaringly white
room he was in, hating the starkness of the hospital.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end of the line repeated, this time a little
more worried, and Xander tried to find the words to explain what had
occurred.

"Riley, hi. It’s Xander. Listen, uh, something’s happened..."

"Is it Buffy?" Riley asked in a slightly shaky as Xander’s first attempt
trailed off.

"What? No, no, Buffy’s fine. Well, she’s okay physically," he amended as he
looked over that the Slayer, who was being held by Giles. "Emotionally, I’m
not so sure."

"What does that mean, she’s not okay emotionally? Can I speak to her?"

Xander’s eyes trailed once more to the trembling blonde. Giles was doing
his best to calm her, but the former Watcher was pretty shaky himself. He
glanced around the room, where Anya sat with her chin resting on her knees
as she stared off into space, and Spike paced back and forth looking worried
and almost scared, a sight Xander had never thought he’d witness. The
vampire was worried enough that he had chosen to stay with the others, even
though he’d had the chance to leave before the sun rose and trapped him
there for the day. Xander sighed as he dragged his gaze from the others to
look down at the coffee cup in his own hand. Tears filled his eyes as he
realized that he was shaking. This was getting to all of them. "I don’t
think talking to Buffy would be a really good idea right now. She’s not
exactly together right now," he managed to say over the lump in his throat.

A chill of fear ran through Riley at the thick sound of Xander’s voice.
Dear God, the guy was near tears. "What is going on?" he asked.

"It’s Willow," Xander forced out, his voice breaking slightly.

Icy fingers of dread spread throughout Riley as flashes of his nightmare
came to him. He turned slightly, not at all surprised to find Forrest and
Graham standing just inside his room. They had shut the door behind them,
and they both had looks of concern on their faces. It was quite apparent
that they had heard Riley’s side of the conversation. He eyed the marks on
Forrest’s head and Graham’s throat, and an involuntary shiver wracked his
body. "What happened to her?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Graham and Forrest watched and listened in silence, wondering what the hell
was going on. Both knew instinctively that the ‘her’ Riley was referring to
was not Buffy. Graham tentatively rubbed his hand over his throat, wishing
he could hear Xander’s end of the conversation.

"Xander, what happened to her? What happened to Willow?" Riley asked when
the younger man didn’t answer. He was so intent on finding out the answer
to his question that he didn’t notice the way Forrest and Graham stiffened
and glanced at each other when they heard the redhead’s name.

"She’s... she’s in the hospital. Sunnydale General," Xander clarified.
"She’s... hurt. It’s bad. Really bad, I’m not even sure what all’s wrong
with her, and... she’s not awake yet, Riley. Buffy found her early this
morning. Like, around three or four. One of the girls in the next room
over heard Buffy scream and called 911. We... we don’t know what happened.
All we’ve gotten out of Buffy was that she woke up and turned on the
light... and there was Willow in the next bed, hurt. She says she never
heard Willow leave or anything. Of course, Buffy’s pretty incoherent right
now, so we’re not entirely sure how reliable she is right this minute. The
only reason we even know about Willow being here is because Giles is listed
as her emergency contact."

"She’s still unconscious?" Riley asked quietly, unaware that a tear was
making its way down his cheek. It was nearly ten in the morning. If Willow
had been found at three or four, it meant she had been unconscious for at
least six hours.

"Yeah," Xander managed as tears once again threatened. This time, he didn’t
think he could hold them back. Everything that had happened lately, and
now, sweet, wonderful, brilliant, amazing Willow, his best friend in the
entire world, the one person who knew everything about him and still loved
him anyway...

Xander took a shuddering breath, making a vallient effort to keep the tears
from falling. He knew that if Buffy saw him crying, it would just make
everything worse. "Do you think you could come here?" he finally asked.

"I’m on my way."

Part Three

Riley burst through the doors of the hospital, Forrest and Graham following
at his heels. When he had told his friends where he was headed, they had
both insisted on coming with him, and Riley hadn’t felt like wasting the
time or the energy it would have taken to discourage them. He quickly
scanned the corridors as they walked, his eyes snapping from side to side as
he searched for a sign of Buffy and her friends.

"Oh, dear. Do you two need help? a young and rather frazzled-looking young
nurse asked as she stepped out from behind the nurse’s station, her eyes on
Forrest and Graham’s injuries. Upon getting a better look at the men’s
faces, she batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, causing Riley to roll his
eyes.

"No, we don’t," Forrest said, shaking his head, then wincing at the sharp
pain that the quick movement caused. "We’re just looking for-"

"Riley!" Buffy’s voice interrupted Forrest’s words, and all the men looked
up to see the Slayer coming towards them. She was dressed in jeans and
T-shirt, and she had no make-up on; her hair wasn’t even done. She looked
extremely young and fragile as she made her way over too them, and Forrest
felt a slight twinge of guilt at the way he had treated her and what he had
said about her.

Upon reaching them, the tiny blonde burrowed into her boyfriend’s arms,
causing him to wince as she bumped into his injured ribcage. It hadn’t
been all that long since he’d been skewered by Adam, and the wound was still
tender. Buffy, sensing his sudden tension and realizing what had caused it,
began to pull away, muttering an apology, but Riley would have none of it.
He tightened his arms around Buffy, preferring the opportunity to hold her
and console her to his own comfort.

"How is she?" he asked, hating to bring of the subject of Willow, but
desperately needing to know the redhead’s condition.

"She’s... better," Buffy said quietly, then pulled back enough to look at
Riley’s face instead of his chest. "She woke up. Only for a minute... but
she was awake. She’s... she’s asleep now. They say she’ll probably sleep
for awhile."

"Well, waking up is good," Riley said over the lump that had formed in his
throat. The relief that Willow had regained consciousness - however briefly
- and was now sleeping - as opposed to unconscious from her injuries - had
caused tears of relief to sting his eyes. He blinked them back, then
squeezed Buffy slightly. "Do we know what happened to her? Do you remember
anything?"

"No clue," Buffy told him sadly.

"What about Faith?" Riley ventured cautiously. He knew very little about
the other Slayer, but Buffy had told him enough about the girl for him to
realize that she was very dangerous. "Could she have done this?"

Buffy shook her head. She and the others had already considered that
possibility - the mere thought had made her burst into tears when Xander had
suggested it two hours before - and it had been summarily dismissed. "There
was no sign of any type of break-in, or even a struggle. Faith isn’t
exactly inconspicuous; she would have done serious damage to the room if it
had been her. I would have never been able to sleep through that. Plus, if
it had been her, she would have made it obvious. She’s the type who likes
to take credit for her work."

Riley nodded slowly, accepting that explanation. Given what he had been
told about the girl, it made sense. Plus, he knew that Buffy’s enhanced
senses would have alerted her to an attack of some sort, which meant that
whatever had happened to Willow had to have been done in near silence.
Sighing, Riley went on to the next order of business. "Where are the
others?"

"The waiting room," Buffy told him. "When Xander said you were coming, I
decided to come find you. I needed something to do besides sit around and
wait," she admitted, a tiny bit of guilt entering her voice. She hated
knowing that she would rather be doing anything, absolutely anything, to
keep her mind busy and avoid thinking of Willow.

Without a word, Riley wrapped his arm around Buffy’s shoulders and led her
toward the waiting room. It wasn’t until they were headed in that direction
that Buffy noticed that they weren’t alone. She had been so distracted by
all that was going on, and so relieved to see Riley, that she hadn’t even
processed the fact that he had come with Forrest and Graham.

"What are they doing here?" she asked, her voice curious, but not
condemning. She didn’t think that either of them was heartless enough to go
after her - verbally or otherwise - when they were at the hospital. Come to
think of it, Graham had never actually come after her at all; he had simply
avoided her since Professor Walsh’s death, and, when he hadn’t been able to
accomplish that, he had remained silent. Forrest, on the other hand...

"They insisted on coming," Riley told her with a shrug. "They didn’t say
why."

Buffy looked over at the other men, studying them carefully. There was no
hint of malice coming from either one of them, although Forrest didn’t meet
her eyes. Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the injuries that marred
both of them. Had they been attacked while on patrol? Had they run into
Adam or... Faith? Buffy knew that the newly awakened Slayer wouldn’t
hesitate to hurt someone she viewed as a danger, human or not. Buffy opened
her mouth to ask what had happened, only to be interrupted by Xander.

"Good, you found him," he said as he spotted Buffy and Riley. His eyes
widened considerably, and his gaze went to Spike, who was sitting on one of
the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, as he took in the sight of the rather
unexpected company. What the hell were those two doing here?

Spike’s eyes widened as he saw the two men with the Slayer’s new lapdog, and
he knew instinctively that they were commandos. He also knew that he didn’t
really give a damn. He was sick and tired of hiding out - from commandos
and demons alike - and he was not going to spend the whole day trying to
avoid Riley’s friends. That just wasn’t the way he did things.

Xander stood and walked over to Graham and Forrest, eyeing them warily. He
didn’t trust them, and he wasn’t exactly happy to see the men. His angry
looked faltered, however, when he saw the bumps and bruises they had. "What
happened to you?" he asked as his gaze fell on Riley’s injured hands. "And
that goes for all three of you."

"We aren’t exactly sure," Graham answered quietly, trying to figure out he
best way to announce what had happened. Before he could come up with an
answer, his gaze landed on the bleached blonde vampire in the corner. "What
the hell is he doing here?"

Buffy glanced over at Spike, paling slightly. It had been hard enough to
convince Riley that it was okay to leave Spike alone; she didn’t even want
to consider how difficult it would be to persuade Graham and Forrest to
leave him alone. "Well, I... you see, that is... he..." Buffy stammered.
Graham wasn’t exactly placated by the answer.

"He shouldn’t be here! He tried to kill Willow!"

Forrest and Riley turned too look at their friend, a bit confused. They had
always assumed that Hostile 17 had been after Willow when he had been in her
dorm room, although Riley was less adamant about that fact now that he knew
Buffy and her friends were harboring the escaped Hostile.

"We don’t know that," Riley said, but Forrest’s eyes narrowed, and he
glanced at Graham’s throat, wondering just what Graham had dreamed about the
night before. He thought the implant would have prevented Hostile 17 from
doing any damage to Willow while he was in her dorm room, but he could have
attacked her some other time. Before the implant.

"Yes, I do!" Graham protested, glaring at Spike with hatred. "He covered
her mouth with his hand so she couldn’t scream, then he tossed her on the
bed and attacked her," he seethed.

"How did you know about that?" Buffy asked, stunned, as she stepped closer
to Graham. "You shouldn’t know about that. I never even told Riley..."

"Look... I-"

"How?" Buffy stressed the word, tears filling her eyes as a sense of dread
hit her. She looked at the bruise on Graham’s throat, then gazed at Forrest
and Riley’s injuries. What the hell had happened to them? She wasn’t sure
she wanted to know, but she felt a desperate need to. "How did you know
what happened to Willow?"

Graham sighed. "I dreamed it," he admitted quietly. He pointed to Forrest.
"We both dreamed about her last night."

"We all did," Riley said softly, causing the others to look at him sharply.
He held up his skinned hands. "I woke up with these."

"And you two woke up with those," Buffy reasoned, gesturing to the wounds
that the other men were sporting. They both nodded, and the others, even
Spike, approached them curiously. Graham eyed the vampire with hatred, but
he decided there were more important things to do right now. Finding out
what was causing this link he, Forrest, and apparently even Riley had to
Willow came first. Then he could stake the bastard for terrifying the
redhead. Sighing, he turned his attention back to Buffy and the others.

"But we don’t know why," Graham told the Slayer.

"Or how," Forrest added.

"What the bloody hell did you wankers even dream about?" Spike asked, his
eyes fastened on the bruise on Graham’s neck. "I know I didn’t cause those
marks. I’ve never bruised Willow. Not that I didn’t want to. But I’ve
never actually hurt her."

"Nah, you’ve just hurt the rest of us," Xander said with a snort.

"Hey now. Remember, I once help the Slayer here save the world," Spike said
a bit self-righteously. "And, I kept Angelus from killing the Watcher a
couple years back."

"And you kidnapped me and Willow in order to force her to do a love spell,"
Xander reminded him before returning his gaze to the Initiative members. He
took in their injuries, knowing immediately at least part of what they had
experienced in their dreams. Because of Graham’s knowledge of what had
occurred in Buffy and Willow’s dorm room, he wasn’t sure exactly how much
they had actually seen. Sighing, Xander ran through a mental count of
Willow’s injuries - cuts and bruises (some of them rather severe), a
concussion, three broken ribs, and... dear Lord, her ribcage. The doctor
had said it looked like she had been impaled by something sharp - very sharp
- on the left side of her ribcage. She had basically been skewered by
something... He glanced at Riley, noticing the way he was favoring his left
side. Willow had been impaled by something very sharp... Just like Riley.
"Oh, God," he managed as everything fell into place. He wished he was
wrong, but he had the sinking feeling that he was right.

"What is it?" Buffy asked, alarmed.

Xander faced Riley, Forrest, and Graham, his face bleak. "You’ve been
experiencing Willow’s nightmares."

"And they’ve manifested themselves physically," Giles reasoned, speaking for
the first time.

"But that’s not all," Xander continued. "She’s been experiencing your
nightmares, too."


Part Four

Graham sat quietly in the hard hospital chair shifting in a vain attempt to
get more comfortable. Sighing softly, he settled back, resigning himself to
hours of discomfort. He glanced over at Xander Harris, who was curled up in
the second chair, sound asleep. Graham envied the other man’s ability to
sleep. He, on the other hand, was wide awake. Shifting his gaze, Graham
studied the small, pale, fragile woman in the hospital bed. Willow
Rosenberg. He hardly knew more than her name. He knew that she was small
and thin and had red hair, but there wasn’t much else he could claim to have
learned about her. He didn’t even have a clue what color her eyes were. He
wished she would open them. He wanted to know. He wanted to learn as much
about her as he could. He already knew what some of her worst nightmares
were; he had been through them. Yet she was still such a mystery to him,
this woman he was attached to.

This woman he was magickally attached to.

Magick. Not really something Graham Miller had ever put much stock in. But
what other explanation was there? He, Forrest, and Riley had experienced
her dreams, her nightmares. And it appeared that she was experiencing their
nightmares as well. And none of them knew why. But they were going to find
out.

After Xander’s stunning announcement, Buffy and her friends had immediately
gone into what Xander had referred to as research mode. They knew something
was attacking their friend with magick, now they just had to find out how to
reverse it. Then they would find out who did it, and, as Buffy said, kick
their ass. So Buffy, Giles, and Anya had gone off to research this strange
turn of events, taking Forrest and Riley with them. Because of his
knowledge of some of the blacker arts, Spike had gone as well. In order to
ensure that the vampire wouldn’t became a big pile of dust, Giles had pulled
his car as close to an exit as possible, and the vampire had pulled his
duster over his head in order to avoid the sun while he got in. It had also
been decided that a couple of people should stay with Willow, just in case
whoever had done this showed up to examine their work. Xander had
immediately volunteered to stay by his friend’s side, and Graham’s distinct
aversion to Spike had helped him get elected as the second person. In
truth, Graham preferred the duty of staying with Willow to research. He
knew nothing about magick, so he didn’t think he’d have been much help
there. Plus, he felt the urge to protect the girl, especially now that he
knew what she had to have gone through.

Graham ran his hands over his face before looking at Willow again. He knew
exactly what nightmare she had gotten from him, and his heart ached for her.
She shouldn’t have had to go through that. No one should.

But he had.

Graham studied the bruises that were visible on her pale skin. He knew
there were many more bruises than just the ones he could see, but they were
the ones that were the easiest to focus on. The bruise by her temple was
dark and angry-looking, and the spot where shoulder becomes neck held the
mark of a well-placed and painful punch. A punch that would take a person’s
breath away. He remembered what being hit like that felt like. Graham took
a gulping breath as the memories assaulted him, and he had to look away.
The sick feeling that had so often plagued him when he was younger came
back, and he put his head between his knees for a moment, praying that the
nausea would go away. The fear knotted in his stomach and his heart began
to pound from the terror, but he pushed it away, forcing himself to remain
calm. It had been years since it had happened, and he was a grown man now.
The one who hurt him couldn’t get to him anymore.

His breathing slowing somewhat, and he jerked him head up. Tears were in
his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Slowly, he forced his tense
muscles to relax, and he closed his eyes as he began to breath deeply, a
simple relaxation technique that had always worked for him. The time passed
without him noticing as he pushed the memories away.

Xander was asleep, curling up in the chair in a position that was sure to
leave a crick in his neck. That was the first thing Willow noticed when she
slowly came awake, wincing at the aches and pains that rolled through her
battered and abused body. Good Lord, she hurt. And she hadn’t even done
anything that merited it. Slowly, cautiously, Willow’s eyes traveled from
one side of the room to the other, looking around as if searching for a
monster to jump out of the shadows.

Her gaze finally settled on the man beside her bed. He wasn’t looking at
her, and she was glad of that. It gave her the chance to study him. He had
a strong, sharp profile, and he was rather handsome. He was also vaguely
familiar to her. Her tired and muddled mind search for that kernel of
recognition, that little piece of memory that would tell her who he was.

Riley’s friend.

She had briefly - very briefly - met him at the Bronze back when Buffy was
all for the Initiative. He was one of the guys that the Slayer had shown up
with on what was supposed to be a Scooby Gang night out. His name was...
Graham? Yes, that seemed right. Forrest was the loud, rude one, and Graham
was the quiet one. Buffy had said she thought he was gorgeous, then forced
Willow to swear that the redhead would never reveal that little piece of
information.

Now that she got the chance to look at him, Willow had to agree that he was
definitely good-looking. However, she couldn’t really tell just how
gorgeous he was. She couldn’t see his eyes, and Willow was one of the women
who was a sucker for a guy with beautiful eyes. So, because Graham had his
eyes shut, she’d have to withhold final judgment on just how attractive he
was.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as her study of Graham went from his face to
his throat. A nasty bruise - that looked disturbingly like a it came from a
hand - circled her throat, and it caused a memory to prick at the back of
her mind. As she tried to catching the elusive thought, she carefully
lifted her hand to the bruise, trailing her fingers over it lightly.

He barely felt it at first. The touch was so light; it felt like butterfly
wings brushing against his skin. But it wasn’t. Cautiously, Graham opened
his eyes and looked down at Willow. She was awake, thank God. And her eyes
were green.

Now he knew.

Willow started to pull her hand back, but Graham caught it with one of his
own, making sure to keep his grip gentle. Her hands didn’t seem to be
injured, but one could never be too careful. He didn’t want to hurt her,
however inadvertently.

He had blue eyes, perhaps the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen.
The light color contrasted nicely with his tanned skin and dark hair. Buffy
was right; Graham was definitely gorgeous.

"You’re awake," Graham said softly, wincing inwardly at the inane comment.

Willow smiled slightly, allowing her hand to stay in his. It was nice to be
able to hold onto something real. "So it would seem," she replied.

"You probably don’t remember me..."

"Graham. It is Graham, isn’t it? You’re one of Riley’s friends."

"Right," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. He’d been worried she’d have
no idea who he was and freak out. "How do you feel?" he asked, concern on
his face.

"I hurt," she admitted. "And... I don’t remember what happened. Do you
know?"

The sorrow and pain in his eyes lanced through her, and memories suddenly
flashed through her, leaving her breathless. A car accident, a man with
huge, unforgiving fists, and Adam. Her eyes flashed back to the bruise on
Graham’s throat as realization struck her. Junior year in the hallway,
right after Angel had become Angelus. "Oh, God," she whispered as tears
filled her eyes.

Graham knew the instant Willow recalled what had happened, and he also saw
the realization in her eyes when she looked at his bruise.

"We were... we were sharing dreams?" she asked, meeting his eyes again. And
in her eyes he saw the knowledge of exactly what dream had come from him.

"I’m sorry," he whispered.

"Why? Did you cause it? No, I don’t think so," Willow replied, before
shooting up in bed. "Oh, God. Riley. I had a dream about him. And some
other guy, too... Does that mean... are they hurt, too?"

"It's Riley and Forrest. And they’re okay; I swear it. They’re helping the
others do research. They have a few new bumps and scratches, but they’re
perfectly fine," he assured her as he carefully eased her back down. He
didn't want her moving too much and injuring herself further.

"Research?"

"To find out how to fix this... how to fix what’s happening to us. Xander
and I stayed to watch over you... to make sure whoever did this doesn’t come
back."

Willow’s eyes traveled over to where Xander slept, then went back to Graham,
and she smiled. "I feel very safe knowing that Xander’s snoring less than
ten feet away."

Graham couldn’t help back smile back. "I thought you would." His smile
faded, however, as his eyes settled once more on the bruise on her forehead.
"I really am sorry, you know."

"It’s not your fault."

"But the dream you got from me... the bruises... my father beat you..."

"I got skewered by Adam in the dream from Riley and was in a car accident
caused by some crazy driver in the one from Forrest... but it’s not their
fault. Whoever formed this connection between us... it’s his fault. Or her
fault. Whatever. The point is, none of us had any way of knowing that this
was going to happen, so we have no reason to blame ourselves."

"Are you going to tell the others about the dream you got from me?" he
asked, meeting Willow’s eyes yet again. He wasn’t sure he liked the emotion
he saw in them. "I don’t need your pity," he snapped.

"There’s a difference between pity and compassion," Willow returned. "I
don’t think it’s wrong to feel compassion or sympathy towards the little boy
you used to be. But pity? No, I don’t feel that," she continued as tears
filled Graham’s eyes. She knew he was remembering his childhood. Sighing
softly, she reached up wiped away the tear that was making its way down his
cheek. "You got away, you grew up, and you became a man that cares about
others to enough to sit around and watch over a girl you hardly know... and
you seem to be doing pretty okay. You’re in college, getting an
education... no, I don’t pity you. I know I only saw part of what you went
through... I don’t know what is was really like. But I do know you survived
it. That’s obvious. And I admire you for that, for your strength. It’s a
little hard to pity someone you admire."

"Strong, huh? I don’t feel so strong right now. Do you want to know how I
make it through? After it was over... after my father died... I pushed it
all away. I went to the stupid counselor my aunts forced on me, but after
that was over, I wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t speak about. Pretend it
never happened, and it would go away."

"And now this..." Willow said softly as she reached out to him. He was
crying for real now, and Willow was beginning to cry herself. As Graham
leaned forward and rested his head against her chest, she gently stroked his
hair, cursing the person who had done this to him, who had forced him to
remember.

She never noticed the two sets of eyes that were watching them.

Part Five

Xander silently watched the tableau in front of him through slitted eyes,
wishing he could get up and leave. Graham’s shoulders were shaking with
quiet sobs, and tears were rolling down Willow’s face as she spoke softly to
the man and tried to comfort him. Xander couldn’t hear the words the
redhead was speaking, and for that he was glad. The moment was too intimate
for spectators, the emotions within it were far too raw for that, and Xander
wished desperately that he hadn’t woken up to bear witness to it. But he
had, and there was nothing he could do about it. And now he had to deal
with the realization that Riley’s obnoxious friends were real people with
real problems, too. Damn it. He had wanted to hate them. Plus, Xander
could clearly remember Graham’s rage at what Spike had done and the man’s
protectiveness of Willow when he had first arrived at the hospital with
Riley. He had clearly been affected by the dreams he had been forced to go
through, and he had seemingly come to care for Willow... for a girl he
didn’t even know. The guy was quite obviously not the monster Xander had
wished him to be, and the fact both relieved him and bothered him. It would
have made it so much easier to destroy the Initiative if the members were
truly evil and not just misguided (or brainwashed, as the case may be.)
Even so, it was nice to know that Willow wasn’t magickally connected to a
complete butthead.

As the scene before him continued, Xander found himself once again wishing
that he could just get up and leave. He knew, however, that doing so
without being seen would be virtually impossible, and he didn’t want Willow
and Graham to know that he had been witness to their exchange. There was
something between the two... an understanding... a connection... he wasn’t
sure of the word for it. He wasn’t even sure that the pair of people crying
out their grief were aware of it, but it was there. And he didn’t think the
dreams were the only reason for it. There was something else between them,
something far deeper than that. He couldn’t explain it, but he could sense
it. He could also sense that they needed time alone.

Closing his eyes once again, Xander tried to go to sleep once more.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Angel watched from the shadows of the doorway, sadness evident on his face.
He had heard most of the exchange between Willow and Graham, and he felt
relatively certain that Willow was safe with the young man. He also knew
that Xander was, indeed, awake; he had heard the change in the young man’s
breathing a few minutes before. That small detail made him feel a bit
better; he knew that Xander would protect Willow with his life if the need
arose.

He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Sighing softly, Angel stepped away from the door, careful not to draw any
attention to himself. The vampire wanted desperately to go in and see for
himself how Willow was doing, but he didn’t feel that he had the right to
interrupt what was going on inside the room. Plus, he had no idea how
Xander would react to his being there, and he didn’t want to find out.
Unbeknownst to the others, Giles had called him earlier, asking the vampire
for his help in finding out what was happening. The former Watcher had
described the redhead’s numerous injuries, and the thought that she had been
through so much made the vampire feel ill. He had explained the situation
to Cordelia and Wesley, and he had been surprised - albeit pleasantly so -
by their immediate offer of help. He knew that Wesley had left Sunnydale in
relative disgrace, and he also knew that Cordelia and Willow hadn’t been on
the best of terms when Cordy had left. Even so, they had both insisted on
coming with him to Sunnydale. Angel smiled slightly at the memory. His
coworkers seemed to continually surprise him. The pair was currently on
their way to Giles’s apartment after having dropped him off to see Willow.
They were both eager to get started with the research, determined to
discover what had happened to the tiny redhead. Now, it seemed that they
knew what had happened, they just didn’t know how it was done, or even who
did it.

As he leaned against the wall, Angel contemplated what would be the best way
to help the others. He could stay here and keep watch over Willow, but
Graham and Xander were already here, and Graham, though human, was quite
obviously in good shape. Plus, whatever had happened was apparently
supernatural, which meant that his presence may not have any effect at all
on whether or not Willow was protected. Angel knew how to fight, and he
could do so quite viciously. But he didn’t have enough knowledge - at least
not off the top of his head - to protect her if the damage was done to her
magickally, and there was no doubt in his mind that what was going on had
been caused by a spell of some kind.

Plus, he didn’t particularly want to face Graham.

A cowardly reaction, yes. He knew it was. But he had heard the
conversation between the young man and the redhead, and he knew that the two
of them were sharing dreams - and receiving the injuries suffered in the
dreams - and that the connection included two guys named Forrest and Riley
(Buffy’s new boyfriend... wasn’t his name Riley?) as well. And, when Graham
had been trying to pull himself together just moments before Willow awoke,
Angel had seen the young man in profile, and he had noticed the bruise on
his throat. He had also seen Willow’s reaction to the bruise, understanding
her tears immediately. The vampire hadn’t needed further proof that the
injury had happened during one of the dreams Graham received from Willow; he
had known it instinctively the moment he saw it, anyway. Willow’s reaction
had just confirmed it. Angel knew that if he wrapped his hand around the
young man’s throat, it would match the bruise, because it was his hand that
had done the damage, however indirectly. He knew that, and it hurt him
terribly to know it. He wondered, if he were to walk into that room, if
Graham would recognize him, if Graham had seen his face in the dream, the
twisted, demonic face he knew he must have been wearing. He wondered if
Graham had felt Willow’s terror as she had been held at the mercy of a
violent, half-crazy vampire bent on some sick form of revenge on the people
who had made him feel human, made him feel loved. He wondered if Graham
would look at him and see the face of Angelus.

Angel bent his head and covered his face, slightly surprised when his hands
came away wet. He was crying. He hadn’t allowed himself the release of
tears in quite a while, yet, here he was, crying over the memories of what
he had done to Willow. Of what he had now done to Graham.

Couldn’t Angelus just leave them all alone?

With a shake of his head, the vampire forced himself out of his melancholy,
knowing that it would do Willow and the others no good. They needed to
figure out what was causing the dreams and put a stop to them. Then, and
alone them, would he allow himself to rage over the way his demon, now
trapped and forced to remain quiet within him, still managed to do harm.
Pushing himself away from the wall, he headed towards Giles’s apartment.

He didn’t even notice the platinum blonde that passed by him.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

The blonde tensed as the vampire passed by her, certain he would somehow
recognize her or, at the very least, sense her. She stopped by the door she
was looking for and turned, watching in stunned silence as the vampire
disappeared down the hallway. She lifted her sunglasses - an obvious sign
that she was in disguise, but no one seemed to notice - and blinked in
disbelief. Had she woken up in some alternate reality instead of the
Sunnydale she had lived in? She had poisoned him... shot him with an arrow.
She had seen him fall, and she had made sure that Buffy wouldn’t be able
to take her back to him to save him. He should be a big pile of dust by
now. Unless Buffy...

She adjusted the wig on top of her head and made a face. Yes, of course.
Buffy the Great. Not only had the bitch managed to save Angel; the blonde
bimbo had managed to stay alive as well. She knew Buffy was alive; she’d
seen her. It had never occurred to her that Angel would still be alive as
well.

Damn stupid luck.

Faith sighed and wrinkled her nose in disgust as she turned to grab Willow’s
chart, glancing into the room at the same time. The redhead was getting
pretty cuddly with what appeared to be a very attractive guy, which was so
not fair. Of course, they both seemed to be pretty damn upset, which made
it a little less of a cuddly situation, but it still wasn’t fair that Willow
got to be so up close and personal with such a hottie.

Shaking her head slightly, Faith looked at Willow’s chart, eager to see what
damage had been done to the redhead. She had assumed that she had merely
given the redhead some rather painful broken ribs, but she had also seen the
ambulance at Stevenson Hall that morning. The Slayer had stayed far enough
in the background to avoid detection, but close enough to see that there had
been blood, which made her wonder if the blonde guy she’d had Tara connect
Willow to had been stabbed or something. The thought had made her smile.
Buffy couldn’t have all the luck; she had to have some, too.

As the disguised brunette looked over the chart she held in her hands, her
brow furrowed in confusion, and her teeth began to worry her lower lip. So
many injuries... three cracked ribs, dozens of contusions, an apparent
impalement of some kind, a concussion... A concussion? There was no way
the guy she had seen had suffered all of these injuries. She’d asked
around, and she’d learned that the injury was recent, and that his ribs
seemed to be the only thing affected. What in the name of God was going on
here? This wasn’t supposed to have happened. She meant for Willow to
suffer, sure, but...

Faith turned to look into Willow’s hospital room once again as the guy
slowly lifted his head away from the redhead’s chest. He sat back in his
chair for a moment before settling himself so that he could easily look into
her face, and the brunette Slayer could barely hold back a gasp as she saw
his face more clearly and spotted the bruise on his throat.

The picture.

He had been in the picture she had given to Tara to use in the spell, the
picture of the guy Willow was supposed to be connected to. Her mind raced
back to the time when she had been friends with Buffy and the others, and
she remembered Xander telling her about the time Angel had held Willow by
the throat in the hallway of the school.

Oh, God.

Faith had seen Angel’s reaction to whatever he had seen in Willow’s room...
the tears, the obvious despair. She had seen it as she had made her way to
look in on her work. And now she understood his reaction. He had spotted
the bruise on the man’s throat, and he had known, as she now knew. The
spell had connected Willow to more than just the blonde man; at least one
other man was involved as well. And not only that, but the connection
seemed to go both ways, which was not supposed to happen.

Faith placed the chart back where it belonged, her hand shaking in anger and
another emotion she refused to name. The spell had been screwed up, Tara
had screwed it up, and there was far more damage done then the brunette
Slayer had intended.

And the only question was, what the hell could she going to do about it now?

Part Six

Graham lifted his head off of Willow’s chest, utterly exhausted and feeling
a bit embarrassed at having wept on the girl, but feeling strangely at peace
as well. The crying jag had had a cathartic effect on the man.

"Better now?" Willow asked softly, a gentle smile playing across her lips as
she stroked his soft hair one last time, then let her hand fall back to the
bed. She didn’t want to stop stroking his hair, but she saw no excuse to
continue now that he had calmed down.

"Yeah, actually, I am," Graham told her a bit sheepishly. Crying all over
someone he hardly knew wasn’t exactly something he did very often. In fact,
it fell into the category of things he was least likely to do in his life.
Of course, he reasoned, he certainly didn’t feel as if he hardly knew the
tiny redhead. In fact, Graham felt some sort of odd kinship with the young
woman. He wondered if it was because of the dreams they shared. He
considered that for a moment, then pushed away the slightly annoying
realization that, if that was the reason for this feeling of closeness, then
Riley and Forrest were probably experiencing the feeling as well. He didn’t
think he liked that possibility. Maybe the feeling had come about because
there was some part of himself that he recognized in her... His musings
didn’t have time to continue on into fruition, however, as his eyes landed
on the angry bruise on her temple. It was a deep purple color, and it stood
out in sharp contrast to her pale skin. And her face... she had been
crying. Graham took a deep breath as worry and concern for the redhead
threatened to overtake him. Oh, God. Her injuries. In his need to be
comforted, he had completely disregarded the fact that she was hurt. What
kind of a bastard did that make him? His eyes quickly scanned her small
body, and he cringed, knowing that she had to have dozens of bruises
concealed by her hospital gown. And her side. Dear Lord, he had forgotten
about her side, where she had been impaled in much the same way as Riley
had. How much pain had his need for comfort caused her?

"Graham? What is it?" Willow asked, growing alarmed because of the slightly
frantic look that was now on his handsome face. Just what the hell was
going on in his mind now?

"Oh, man. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. You’re hurt... and I... oh,
man." His eyes went back to Willow’s face, and she could see the worry in
them. "Did... did I hurt you? I mean, I know..."

Willow reached out and took Graham’s hand, smiling slightly when his eyes
flew down to their place of contact. He seemed almost awed by the fact that
she would reach out and touch him voluntarily, which was strange,
considering the fact that she had just spent the past half hour or so
holding him. "You had your head up here," she reminded him, patting her
chest with her free hand. "Most of the bruises are on my back or my
stomach."

"But your side..."

"Is fine. You were leaning up against my right side, Graham. It’s the left
side that was damaged." She gripped his hand a bit more tightly, and she
couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure that went through her when he shifted his
hand to entwine his fingers with her own.

"You were crying," he said softly as he used his free hand to gently touch
her cheek, which was still wet with tears.

"So were you," she reminded him with a soft smile.

"I really didn’t hurt you?" he asked, much like a small child needing
reassurance.

"No, you didn’t. I promise."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Are we interrupting something, or is this research party open to the
public?"

Buffy and the others jumped as the unexpected - and for four of them, very
familiar - voice cut through the room. They turned almost as one towards
the front door, surprise evident on every face.

"Cordelia, how good to see you," Giles managed as the brunette strolled into
the room, a second unexpected guest behind her. He’d had no idea that the
brunette and the former Watcher were coming. He’d only expected Angel.
"And look, you brought Wesley with you." The older of the two former
Watchers glanced at the door once more, then turned to Cordelia with a
questioning look as Wesley shut the door behind him.

"Angel had us drop him off at the hospital," the young woman informed him
with a shrug. "He wanted to check on Willow. He’s probably being all macho
and standing guard at her door and being rude to all the nurses or something
by now."

"Well, he’ll have some company," Anya piped up. "Xander and Graham are
there, too."

"What are you doing here?" Buffy finally blurted before catching herself and
hastily backtracking. "Not that we’re not happy to see you; we are. We’re
extremely happy. We could use all the help we can get..."

"It’s okay, Buffy. There’s no need to explain your comment," Wesley assured
the girl before turning to look at Giles. "You didn’t tell them you called
us?"

"I meant to," Giles admitted with a sigh. "But things got a little
complicated."

"You called them and asked them to come?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowed in
confusion. "When?"

"Probably when you were hysterically crying all over Xander," Anya said
bluntly, causing the Slayer to blush. Riley reached over and squeezed his
girlfriend’s hand, silently telling her not to be embarrassed over her
reaction to Willow’s injuries. In his opinion, her reaction was only
natural.

"I called Angel earlier this morning, before Xander called Riley. He agreed
to try and find out what was going on. I really wasn’t expecting him to
come until tonight, and I had planned to tell you he was coming. In fact, I
had expected it to be only Angel who came. I am, however, grateful that the
two of you were able to come as well," Giles quickly added as he looked at
Cordelia and Wesley. "I wasn’t certain that you would all be able to get
away. Anyway, I had planned to inform you that Angel would be coming, but
then everything happened, and I got a bit distracted."

"Speaking of distraction... I really don’t think I’m going to be able to
help you until someone answers my question: what’s he doing here?" Cordelia
asked as she cocked her head and pointed to Spike, who was currently trying
to hide behind the rather large volume of spells that he had been looking
through. The vampire groaned as he lowered the book back to the table and
continued to flip through the pages, looking for a spell that could have
done the damage that had put Willow in that hospital bed. He had really
hoped that Cordelia wouldn’t notice him. He hadn’t really wanted the fact
that he was helping the Scooby Gang to be brought up yet again. Forrest and
Riley had insisted on hearing the story several times before they accepted
it. And he knew that Graham still didn’t buy it. Of course, the boy had
had that dream where Spike had attacked Willow... Who could really blame him
for hating the vamp?

"Spike’s helping us now," Buffy admitted reluctantly. "He’s basically
neutered... no fighty, no bitey. He can still hunt other demons, though."

"Oh. Well, that’s good," the brunette replied, taking Buffy’s explanation
at face value. She didn’t notice the look of relief that crossed the
vampire’s face when she let the subject drop. After a moment, Cordelia took
a seat on the couch, careful to stay as far away from Spike as possible.
Neutered or not, she still didn’t trust the bleached blonde vampire. "So,
uh, why are you looking up magick spells and uh, curses?" she asked as she
took a look at the title of the book Anya was going through. "And not to be
rude, but who are these guys?" she continued as she gestured to Forrest and
Riley.

"This is Riley Finn... he’s my boyfriend," Buffy said after a moment. "And
this is Forrest Gates. He’s a friend of Riley’s and... they’re kind of
involved, too. So is Graham Miller, the guy who is at the hospital with
Willow."

"How are they involved? I mean... what exactly is going on here?"

"They’re sharing dreams," a deep voice said from the doorway.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Faith entered her old apartment - the one the mayor had gotten for her -
ignoring the broken glass and other debris that had gathered during her
absence. She paced back and forth across the grimy floor, her movements
quick and jerky.

What the hell had gone wrong? First, she had searched through the room of
that girl she had seen Willow with, pleased beyond belief when she had
discovered that the redhead’s new friend just happened to be a witch. Then
she had gone to the damn magick shop, looked for a suitable spell, and
headed back to the witch’s room to wait for her. The girl had turned out to
be more than enough of a wimp to suit Faith’s tastes, and she had done the
spell without actually having to be tortured.

Yet the spell had gone wrong, and horribly so.

That was what Faith didn’t understand. Sighing, the brunette Slayer jerked
off her platinum blonde wig with enough force to almost be considered
violent and shook her hair out as she yanked off her sunglasses and kicked
off her excruciatingly high heels. How had things gone so wrong? Willow
was just supposed to get a few broken ribs - or whatever it was that had
been ailing that blonde guy - and that was it. Just a bit of revenge to
start things off, a bit of pain to get even with Red for the things she had
said in the mayor’s office. Willow wasn’t even the one she wanted to get to
the most. No, that honor was saved for the other Slayer, good ol’ Buffy the
Great. Bitch.

Maybe that Tara girl had purposely...

No, Faith decided with a shake of her head as she yanked off the annoying
vinyl mini-skirt she’d been wearing as part of her cheesy bimbo disguise.
There was no way Tara had botched the spell purposely. The girl obviously
had some sort of crush on the redhead - did Willow know? Probably not; the
idea would most likely freak the girl out - and there was no way she would
intentionally do something that would cause the redhead more pain than Faith
had intended.

Unless...

She had been scared, Faith reasoned as she pulled off the stockings she had
been wearing. Damn fishnets... they itched too damn much for them to have
been a woman’s invention. Tara had been scared. Terrified, actually. All
that whimpering and crying... it had been pitiful, really. She could have
easily been scared enough to make a mistake or something.

Of course, there were still other possibilities...

What if Willow really had known about Tara’s little crush, and she rejected
the other girl? Scorned would-be lover and all that. Or, the stupid blonde
could have thought she had a chance with the little redhead until Faith had
so callously informed her that Willow didn’t ‘swing that way.’ No. Tara
wasn’t likely to have taken Faith’s word on the subject as fact. The Willow
rejecting her thing was a more likely scenario. Faith jerked her shirt off
over her head as she considered that option, then walked naked to where a
few sets of her own clothing still remained stashed in a drawer. It was
obvious no one been in the apartment for awhile. Probably no one had cared
after the mayor had died.

Poor Dick...

No, Faith told herself as she jerked a tank top over her head, then began to
pull on a pair of leather pants. She would not think of the mayor. She
didn’t have time for things like that right now. There were more important
things to do. She could think about him later, after she had fixed things.
And she really would fix things this time. She wouldn’t let them get out of
control and just completely snowball and totally destroy her...

No. That wouldn’t happen again, she promised herself as she pulled on a
pair of boots and headed for the door.

She had a witch to see.

Part Seven

In the movies and on television, things often go in slow motion as everyone
turns in shock at the sound of someone’s voice at the door, and the person
in question is usually standing regally at the door, the sunlight streaming
in from behind the person so that only his shape, and not his face, could be
seen. That was not what happened in this particular case.

While it is true that all of the occupants of the room turned at the sound
of the voice, it was at normal speed, and nobody looked altogether shocked,
mainly because they had expected this person to show up eventually. The
person in question’s face was not showing, but that was not because of the
backlighting. No, if the intruder had tried to use the backlighting to
create mystique, he would have just turned into a big flaming pile of ashes,
thus turning his mystique into a mistake. Instead, Angel’s face was covered
by his jacket, which he had pulled over his head while he hurriedly shut the
door and made it safely in out of the deadly sun.

"Angel, you made it. I thought it would take you longer to get here,"
Cordelia commented.

"Well, he sure knows how to make an entrance," Anya said wryly as Angel
removed his jacket, revealing his face for the first time.

The vampire regarded the two men he had never met for a moment, instantly
recognizing the blonde as the man that he had seen Buffy with over
Thanksgiving. He had to be Riley, which meant the other man was most likely
Forrest. He silently surveyed the rest of the room, his expression showing
confusion when he noticed his most wayward childe, before schooling his
features to show nothing as he took in the sight of Giles, Anya, and Buffy.
Angel then quickly flicked his gaze back to Riley - Buffy’s new boyfriend -
and he was surprised to see recognition in his eyes.

"You’re a vampire," Riley stated calmly, without malice or accusation. It
was simply announced as a fact.

"Yes, I am," Angel replied. There was no point in lying about it.

"You saved Willow’s life."

"What?" Buffy spoke up, confused. What was Riley talking about? And how
did he know Angel was a vampire anyway? Well, there was his obvious
aversion to the sun...

"One of the dreams I got... this woman was wearing this glove, and she could
shoot fire out of it. She aimed at Willow... and you knocked Willow out of
the way and saved her life."

"Gwendolyn Post and the Glove of Myhnegon," Buffy said softly, immediately
recognizing the scene Riley was describing.

"I guess so. That’s how I got these," Riley replied as he held up his
hands.

"You know, not that I’m complaining, because it saves us a lot of
explaining, but how did you know about the sharing dreams thing?" Forrest
asked. He didn’t necessarily trust the vampire in front of him - although
he trusted Spike even less - but he was willing to accept that the creature
was there to help, especially since he had saved Willow in Riley’s dream.
Plus, he was apparently the Angel guy that Cordelia and the others had been
talking about earlier.

"I overheard Willow and Graham - that is his name, isn’t it? - discussing
it. They didn’t seem to need any help from me, so I thought I’d head over
here to offer my help. I didn’t even go in to say hello to them. They were
pretty deep in conversation."

Buffy nodded, knowing part of the reason Angel hadn’t wanted to enter the
room had to have been the wound on Graham’s throat. If Angel had heard
enough to know about the dream sharing, he had probably put two and two
together and come up with Angelus causing the bruise. After a moment,
however, the rest of Angel’s statement trickled into the blonde Slayer’s
brain.

"Wait a minute. Willow’s awake?"

"Yes, she is. She wasn’t awake when you left?"

"She had been for a few minutes, but that was it," the Slayer replied.

"And she was talking to Graham?" Riley questioned, a slightly odd expression
on his face. Graham wasn’t exactly one to start up a conversation with
someone he hardly knew. Of course, he had been acting strangely protective
of the little redhead. He wondered if the dreams had formed some sort of
bond between the two that neither he nor Forrest felt. Or maybe it was
something else entirely.

"Yes, she was," Angel stated with a nod. He purposely left it at that,
reluctant to tell the others about what he had seen happen between Willow
and Graham. It wasn’t any of his business. After a moment of silence,
Angel finally gave into his curiosity and turned to Spike. "What’s he doing
here?"

"Wasting space," Buffy replied, causing the vampire in question to growl
softly.

"He’s un-bitey, and he’s helping us now," Anya told Angel.

"Oh-kay," he said slowly, a slightly confused look on his face. Oh, well,
he could ask Giles for the particulars later.

"So, uh, Angel," Anya continued when it appeared the vampire wasn’t going to
ask any further questions regarding Spike. "Where was Xander during this
little bonding session between Willow and Graham?" she asked, a bit
concerned about her boyfriend’s whereabouts.

"Asleep in a chair."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"And let there be coffee!" Xander exclaimed as he entered Willow’s hospital
room, somehow managing to carry three cups of the bitter liquid. He handed
one of them to Graham, then turned and gave the second cup to Willow with a
flourish. "For my lady," he said with a smile, thrilled to see his friend
conscious and coherent. He knew that the redhead wasn’t the best at holding
her caffeine - it often made her hyper - but she had requested it, and her
wish was his command.

"Thanks, Xan," she said softly, smiling at her friend. As much as she loved
Graham’s company, she still truly appreciated that her best friend was there
with her as well. She also knew that Buffy and the others were off
researching what had happened to her.

"Anytime, Will," he replied. "Except right before bed. That would be far
too dangerous," he continued with a smile as he sat down in one of the
visitors’ chairs. He had pretended to wake up a few minutes after things
had become slightly less emotionally charged between Willow and Graham, and
he was pretty sure that neither one was aware of the fact that he had heard
their exchange. Thank goodness. That would have been just too
embarrassing. "So. What do we do now?" he asked as he settled in. He knew
Willow was safe here in the hospital (as long as she was with Graham, at
least), and he was eager to do something to help get the guy who had
attacked Willow and the others.

"We see what we can do to figure things out. You know... maybe discuss who
could be behind this?" Willow suggested in a tone that made it clear that
that was what she and Graham had decided to do.

Xander nodded briefly. "Okay... let me think. Evil... magickal powers...
grudge against the Willster... ooh, ooh, I know! Ethan."

"Ethan Rayne does not have a grudge against me!" Willow exclaimed
indignantly. "He’d be much more likely to go after Giles or Buffy. They’re
the ones who keep spoiling his fun."

"Ethan Rayne?" Graham repeated softly. "Why does that name sound familiar
to me?"

"He turned Giles into a demon, and Riley took him-"

"Into custody," Graham said, finishing Xander’s sentence. "That’s why I
know the name. Some paperwork on him passed through the Initiative a few
days ago. We’ve still got him."

"And finally, the Initiative does something helpful for once!" Xander
exclaimed, then quickly amended, "Except for that whole de-fanging Spike
thing. That was helpful, too."

"Thanks," Graham replied wryly. "So we’re back to square one."

"What about Faith?" Willow asked softly.

"She doesn’t know magick."

"Who’s Faith?"

"The other Slayer. She’s also your basic, run-of-the-mill, homicidal
maniac," Xander informed the other man. "She’s tried to kill most of the
Scooby Gang at one time or another."

"Why haven’t I heard of her before?"

"She’s been in a coma. She was for about eight months or so... and now
she’s awake. Xander, how long has she been awake?"

"A couple days at the most."

"Long enough to find us?"

"Probably," Xander admitted softly.

"She could have found a witch... Hell, she could have already known a witch.
We have no idea what she was doing those last few months before
graduation. She has a grudge, Xan."

"Are you sure you’re not just paranoid?" Xander asked his oldest and best
friend. "Are you sure you’re not just thinking that every monster in the
corner is Faith?"

"I’d actually rather think it was Faith than think that there’s an evil
besides her and Adam out there that we have to take care of."

"True," Xander agreed. Two evils instead of three would be a definite plus.

"And hurting me would be a way for her to get to Buffy, too."

"And so would hurting Riley," Graham spoke up. "Think about it. If she has
been awake for a couple days, and she was watching you guys... she could
have very easily seen Riley. And noticed his injuries. And Forrest and
I... we could have just gotten in the way, or she could have seen us with
Riley."

"Hurt me, and hurt Buffy," Willow mused quietly with a nod. What Graham
said made sense. Faith wouldn’t care that Riley had done nothing to her;
she would just see attacking Buffy’s boyfriend as a way to get back at the
blonde Slayer. And Riley certainly had been around them a lot in the past
couple of days. Faith could have easily seen him if she was watching Buffy.
Sighing, the redhead took the pad of paper off the table beside her bed
and quickly wrote something down, then handed it to Xander.

"What’s this?"

"It’s where Tara lives. She’s a witch I know. She may be able to help...
you know, find a reversal spell, or even tell us if there are any witches in
the area who may have done this. So, just try it, okay?"

Xander nodded, then leaned down to kiss Willow on the cheek. "Take care of
yourself," he told her seriously before turning to Graham. "Take care of
her."

"I will. Be careful," Graham replied. Xander nodded in response, then
headed out the door.

It wasn’t until Xander was gone that Willow realized that if Faith had seen
Riley, she might have seen Tara as well.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Tara screamed and jumped up from her bed as her door burst open, smacking
back hard against the wall and rebounding about halfway. Faith jerked it
the rest of the way closed with a resounding slam.

"You screwed up!" she accused the frightened witch that was now shrinking
back in a corner near her closet.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Tara told her shakily, hating the
trembling in her voice. The trembling that was all over her body. Even her
knees were knocking.

"I told you to connect Willow to that blonde guy. One way, only Red gets
the dreams, only Red gets the pain. That isn’t what happened. Do you want
to tell me why?"

"What do you mean? What are you talking about? Didn’t the spell work?"

"Oh, it worked all right. It worked a little too well."

"What exactly does that mean? TOO well?" Tara blurted out, terrified of
both Faith and what she had done.

"Well," Faith replied silkily as she stepped closer to the frightened girl -
the fear was coming off of her in waves - stopping only when they were nose
to nose. "I’ll tell you. It means that Red got... not one, not two, but
three dreaming buddies. And they got her as well. A two way connection to
three guys, versus the one way connection to blondie that I wanted. I’d say
you screwed up, witch."

"What? No, that can’t be possible," Tara cried out as she dove for her
trash can where the remnants of the spell still remained. She dug through
the papers and herbs that had been trashed, until she reached the pictures.
She tossed the first one - the picture of Willow - aside, then pulled out
the picture of the men to study it. The potion had dried into a sticky mess
that covered virtually the entire picture, and she wrinkled her nose as she
went to rub it off.

Then she froze.

It covered the entire photograph.

It was a picture of three guys.

And suddenly she knew.

"Oh, no," she whispered.

Suddenly, Faith was on the floor beside, looking at the picture as well. "I
take it you know what happened?" the Slayer asked, her dark eyes boring into
Tara’s blue eyes.

"Yes, I think I do."

"Can you fix it?"

"I... I can try. I’ll have to look through my spellbooks, and it may take
awhile."

"You have until tomorrow," Faith stated decisively as she rose to her feet.
"I’ll be back then. Now get to work; the clock’s ticking," she told the
blonde witch, making tick-tick-tick noises as she left the room, once again
slamming the door.

Tara glared at the door hatefully for a moment, then placed the
potion-covered picture of Forrest, Riley, and Graham on her bed as she
headed to her desk and reached for one of her spellbooks, immediately
getting to work at finding the spell that she wanted.

Of course, the that spell she wanted wasn’t the spell that Faith wanted.


Part Eight

Riley turned the page of the book he was looking through, his eyes scanning
for any pertinent information. Unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely sure what
did and didn’t qualify as ‘pertinent information’. "What exactly is it that
we’re looking for?" he asked, beginning to feel more than a little bit
hopeless. They had been looking through various spellbooks for what seemed
like hours, and they had come up with absolutely nothing.

"Any type of spell that seems like it could be responsible for what’s
happening," Angel replied as he turned the page in his own book. The
vampire shook his head slightly, realizing that his answer hadn’t exactly
been helpful. "Any spell that mentions dream sharing of any kind could be
helpful, even if you don’t think it’s the one that was used. What was done
to you could have been an altered version of another spell," he clarified.

"Who do you think could be responsible for this?" Forrest asked softly as he
studied the book he was holding. Nothing seemed to make any sense to him.
He knew absolutely nothing about magick, and he felt useless just sitting
there, going through the pages of books that he didn’t understand. He was
used to evil that was tangible, evil that could be hunted and taken down.
Magick didn’t exactly fall under that category.

Buffy shrugged, never taking her eyes off of the text in front of her. The
tiny Slayer looked absolutely exhausted, and Forrest knew that she probably
hadn’t slept since she had awoken to find Willow in the middle of the night.
The endless worry the blonde had to have felt, along with the fault she
clearly laid on her own shoulders and the crying jag she had most likely
surrendered to, had obviously taken its toll on the young woman, yet she had
never once complained. Forrest hated to admit it, but he was beginning to
admire the girl.

"Willow doesn’t really have any enemies. At least, none that I know of,"
Buffy said softly. "And whoever did this... well, they’re probably after
her more than they are you guys. She did get the worst of it, you know."

"What about..." Riley began, then trailed off. After a moment, he tried
again. "Look. I know earlier you said Faith couldn’t have been the one who
did this, but... is it possible that she knows enough about magick to have
done this?"

"Faith?" Cordelia squeaked out, his dark eyes growing wide. "What’s this
about Faith?"

"She woke up," Anya informed the brunette, her eyes never leaving the tome
that she held in her lap.

"What? When? How?"

"She came to a couple days ago. She’s laid low for the most part, but she
did beat someone up," Buffy told the other girl tiredly. "She doesn’t know
enough about magick to do anything like this."

"But she could have some contacts," Angel murmured, his mind on the time
Faith, under the mayor’s orders, had attempted to steal his soul. It was
possible that, even though Mayor Richard Wilkins III was now nothing more
than a heap of monster meat, there were still people around to help the
brunette Slayer. People with a knowledge of the darker magicks.

"Look, I really don’t think-"

"We have to examine all the possibilities, Buffy," Angel interrupted calmly.
"It’s not like Faith to sit back and do nothing. We can’t just write off
the possibility that it could be her. She’s not afraid to use whatever
means necessary to get what she wants," he reminded the blonde Slayer.
"We’ve seen enough to know that."

Buffy nodded reluctantly. "Okay, I’m with you there. Faith’s the type who
would try anything once. I’m just not sure-"

"Hold up. I think I’ve found something," Spike said suddenly, sitting up a
bit straighter in his chair. The blonde vampire had been quiet most of the
day, choosing to fade into the background rather than draw attention to
himself. He didn’t particularly want the commandos to get any ideas about
him, and he figured ‘out of sight, out of mind’ was the best way to go about
it. That plan was quickly scratched, however, considering the fact that he
may have found something useful.

"What is it?" Giles asked, adjusting his glasses as he walked over to the
vampire, leaning over Spike’s shoulder in order to see what he was pointing
at.

"I know it’s not quite what we’re looking for," Spike admitted as he handed
the volume over to the former Watcher. "But it’s the best we’ve got right
now."

"What’s the spell, Giles?" Cordelia asked.

"It’s to connect nightmares... but it’s only supposed to be one way," Giles
muttered as he glanced over the spell.

"But it’s a lead, right?" Wesley inquired, trying to be optimistic.

"Yes, yes it is, I suppose. It requires pictures of both people... the one
getting the dreams, and the one projecting them," the older of the two
former Watchers continued.

"And if a picture were to, say... have three people in it?" Angel asked, his
brow furrowed in thought.

"What do you mean?" Forrest asked.

"The number three... there’s something about it," Angel said as he moved
over to where Giles was standing, eager to get his own look at the spell.

"Yeah," Cordelia put in. "I mean, look at the show Charmed. They got their
powers when all three of them were together."

"That wasn’t exactly what I was going for," Angel said, a slightly confused
look on his face. He had no clue what his secretary was talking about.
"What I meant was... the number three can strengthen the bond in a spell
like this."

"Maybe even make it go both ways," Spike murmured, nodding his head. He’d
heard of things like that happening. "Is it likely that someone could have
gotten hold of a picture of the three of you together?"

"Definitely," Riley confirmed.

"Then this could very well be the spell that was used," Giles said softly.
"Now we just have to figure out how to reverse it."

"What does it say about it, anyway?" Forrest asked, curious. "I mean... is
this dream sharing permanent without a reversal spell? And what conditions
have to be met in order for it to work?"

"It is permanent," Giles replied. "And both people experiencing the
connection have to be asleep in order for it to work."

"This alteration of the original spell... does that mean all four of us have
to be asleep for it to work, or just Willow and any one of us?" Riley asked.

"I have no idea," Giles admitted, removing his glasses and cleaning them
before putting them back on again. They still had a lot to do.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Tara yelped as her door swung open once again, and she looked up fearfully,
terrified that she would once again see the cruel brunette.

"Hey. Sorry I scared you," Xander said with a smile as he stopped just
inside the door. "I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me. I’m Xander
Harris. I’m a friend of Willow Rosenberg. I was wondering-"

"What about Willow?" Tara immediately asked, her tone defensive.

Xander stepped back, surprised by the girl’s reaction. She seemed so closed
off... so nervous. "She’s... she’s hurt," he managed. "She’s at Sunnydale
General. She asked me to come and talk to you."

"Why?" Tara asked, her eyes wide. Did Willow suspect that she had been the
one to cast the spell?

"Because she said you’re a witch. And I mean that in the nicest way
possible," he said with a slight smile, trying to put the jumpy girl at
ease. "Whatever was done to Willow... it was done magickally. She thought
you might be able.. to .... help," Xander finished softly, his voice
trailing off and his face growing blank as he spotted a photograph on Tara’s
bed.

Tara blanched when she saw what Xander was looking at. The picture. After
Faith had left, she had completely forgotten about it. And now there it
was, on her bed, in plain sight. She quickly made a grab for the
incriminating photograph, but Xander was too fast for her, reaching it just
before she did. The blonde witch bit her lip, hoping that the young man
would have no clue what it meant.

"Where did you get this?" Xander asked. He studied the picture, his heart
in his throat. Even with the goop marring it, he could clearly see the
faces of Forrest, Riley, and Graham. He looked up at Tara, taking in her
wide-eyed, fearful expression. "What did you do?" he ground out.

"I... I... Nothing. I have no idea what you’re talking about," she managed,
but she could tell he wasn’t buying it.

Xander glared at the girl for a moment, then pushed past her, reaching down
to grab something off of the floor. He unfolded the picture that had been
lying beside the trash can, and his heart sank as he saw the familiar face
smiling back at him through the same goop that covered the other picture.
Willow.

"What did you do?" Xander said again as he whirled on the girl. He stepped
closer to her, anger on his face. "Why did you do this to her?" he yelled.
"She sent me here to ask for your help because she thought you were her
friend, and it turns out that you were the one who did this to her in the
first place!"

"I h-had to-oo," Tara forced out, tears rolling down her cheeks. "S-she
ma-made me do i-it!"

"Who?" Xander hissed out, not backing down as he shoved both pictures into
her face. "Who made you do this to them?"

"F-Faith. She... she t-told me h-her name is Faith," Tara forced out
between gasping sobs.

"So she is the one," Xander muttered as he stepped back, putting several
feet between himself and the witch. Tara breathed a sigh of relief, then
tensed up again when Xander kicked her trash can, sending it flying across
the room. "Why did you do it?" he asked again, and Tara could see that he
was seething.

"She threatened to kill me if I didn’t," Tara told him, hoping desperately
that he’d see her side in this.

"Oh, she did, did she?" Xander muttered before meeting Tara’s eyes. "And
that’s why you did it," he continued, and Tara nodded emphatically. "Well,
I guess that’s the difference between you and me," he told her as he
approached her once again. "You see, if I were in your shoes, I would have
just let Faith kill me. I love Willow far too much to ever hurt her the way
you did."

That said, he turned to go, stopping by the desk. He looked down at the
open book that Tara had abandoned, and his face hardened even more. "A
vengeance spell. For Faith, I presume? What, she pissed you off, so you’re
going after her now? What about Willow?" he asked as he looked at her once
more. "What about her? She’s lying in a hospital bed because of you, and
instead of trying to help her, you go after your petty revenge on Faith.
That’s just great. Willow would be so proud," Xander muttered as he left.

Tara stood in shocked silence for a moment, then fell to her knees in tears.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Willow yawned as she settled further under the covers, and she glanced at
Graham. He was sleeping in the chair beside her bed, folded into what had
to be a terribly uncomfortable position. The redhead smiled fondly at the
young man, then returned her gaze to the television that was in the room.

A daytime talk show was on, and Willow had to admit that it was beyond
boring. Of course, there was nothing better on, which probably explained
why Graham had fallen asleep. Smiling slightly, Willow turned onto her
uninjured side, curling her arm underneath her cheek as she listened to the
couple on television arguing about the affair that was tearing them apart.

She was asleep within minutes.

Part Nine

"Faith did it. Or, rather, she had someone do it."

The entire group jerked in response to Xander’s sudden entrance and whirled
around to face the pissed off young man.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, confused. "How did you find this out? I
thought you were with Willow."

"I was, but she asked to me to check something out for her, and... what are
Deadboy, Cordy, and Wesley doing here?"

"Giles called them," Forrest answered impatiently, more concerned about what
Xander had managed to find out than he was about the young man’s reaction to
the unexpected guests. "Now, what’s this about Faith getting someone to do
the spell?"

"Oh, well-"

"What did you find out, Xan? I need to find out who cast this spell so that
I can go slay them. Painfully," Buffy interrupted, a bit of sparkle coming
back into her eyes at the prospect of being useful. She had felt so
superfluous over the past few hours, and she was getting sick of it.
Someone had hurt her best friend, and she wanted them to pay.

"Sorry, Buffs, but I’m pretty sure that slayage is out of the question with
this one. She’s human... or at least I’m pretty sure she’s human. Remember
Willow’s new friend Tara?"

"The witch?" Buffy asked, confusion in her eyes. As she realized exactly
what is was that Xander was getting at, the confusion turned to rage. "That
bitch," she spat out, before another thought came to her. "Does Willow
know?" she asked, concerned for the redhead.

"Yeah, I just ran right back to her and said ‘hey Wills, you know that witch
you asked me to go to for help? Well, she’s the one who cast the spell in
the first place. So sorry.’ Yeah, hurting Willow was definitely first on
my list of things to do today," Xander replied sarcastically before running
his hands through his dark hair and sighing. When he spoke again, he was
much calmer. "No, I haven’t told her. I really don’t want to, to tell you
the truth. I mean, okay, Faith threatened Tara in order to get her to do
the spell, but that still doesn’t change the fact that she cast it. When
Wills finds out, it’s going to destroy her. I mean, to have a friend be the
one that did this..."

"But she does need to know," Cordelia said after a moment. "She needs to
know that she can’t trust this girl, no matter how much it hurts Willow to
find it out. "We’ve got to tell her."

Xander nodded sadly, knowing it was necessary, but slightly surprised at the
fact that Cordelia had actually made an intelligent comment without any
sarcasm in it. Maybe her time in LA had been good for her. "I know she
does," Xander agreed with a sigh. "But I just can’t be the one to do it.
I’m sorry, but I can’t."

"Okay, then I’ll do it," Cordelia said decisively, shrugging when she saw
the disbelieving looks the others were sending her. "Look, Willow and I
have never exactly been friends, so if she decides to get all pissy at the
messenger, then no harm done, you know? Plus, I can fill her in on
everything we’ve found so far," the brunette finished as she stood. Angel
immediately stood as well. With Faith on the loose, he didn’t particularly
want anyone running around alone, especially after what had happened to
Doyle. He wasn’t about to lose anyone else.

"I’ll go with you," the vampire told her as he accepted his car keys from
Wesley. The former Watcher had been the one to drive the entire way from LA
to Sunnydale what with it being daylight and all, and Angel sighed softly as
he looked to the window of the apartment where sunlight still filtered in.
It was only early afternoon. With a slight grimace, he tossed his car keys
to Cordelia. "You’re going to have to drive while I hide in the backseat
under that army blanket," he told her.

"I get to drive your car?" Cordelia asked in surprise as she caught the
keys. "Really? Cool." Smiling, she headed for the door, a reluctant Angel
following behind.

"It’s a good thing I’m already dead," he muttered, thinking of the
brunette’s driving skills.

"I heard that."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

{ "I’m... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it," she heard herself say in a
young, male voice. It was obvious she was once more in Graham’s body,
experiencing his nightmares, and Willow fought against the knowledge,
struggling to wake up, but it was no use. She had no choice but to
experience the dream.

She didn’t think Graham could have been more than ten years old in this
particular nightmare, judging by her apparent size and the way the bedroom
was decorated. A lamp lay broken by the dresser, an obvious victim of a
short game of indoor baseball. She looked at the lamp for a moment, then
lifted her eyes back to the enraged man towering over her. "It was an
accident. I’ll never do it again, I promise."

"You’re damn right, you’ll never do it again," the man virtually roared,
causing her to cringe back. The man’s eyes flashed even more dangerously at
that, and she bit back a scream as the man grabbed her by the front of the
shirt and nearly jerked her off her feet. He glared at her menacingly.
"And I’m going to make sure of it." Willow tried to shrink away, but the
man - Graham’s father - just yanked her back, then shoved her hard against
the wall. "You stupid, worthless kid. We’ve just can’t have anything
without you ruining it, can we?" he bellowed, gesturing to the broken lamp
before reaching for her again. "You just had to play baseball in the house,
didn’t you?" he growled as he dragged her over to the dresser, which had one
drawer wide open. It was the top drawer, and several T-shirts were spilling
out of it. The man cleared them out, then jerked her hand - Graham’s hand -
so that it hung out over it. "Well, I’ll just have to fix that," the man
said in a quiet, calm voice that was far more frightening than the yelling
from just seconds before. "I’ll just have to fix that," he repeated in that
same soft, creepy voice. "No, you won’t be playing baseball for a good long
time," Graham’s father said as he looked down at the open drawer. "A good
long time," he whispered. And then he slammed the drawer shut... }

Graham didn’t hear the strangled cry that came from Willow’s lips as her
hand was crushed by the slamming drawer. No, he was caught in a nightmare
of his own. Or, more accurately, a nightmare of Willow’s...

{ He was in the middle of a room, tied to a huge wooden stake. Books
surrounded him, and he winced inwardly at some of the titles. ‘Eviscerating
Demons,’ ‘Guide to Paganism,’ and ‘Hendrix’s Demon Index’ certainly didn’t
seem like a typical reading list. Of course, being tied to a stake while
people stood around with burning torches wasn’t exactly a typical situation.

"Hold still. Be a good girl." The voice came from behind him, where people
were securing what seemed like way too much rope around him. There was
absolutely no way anyone could free themselves from this amount of rope.

"No!" he cried out in Willow’s voice. "Why are you doing this to me? Mom?"
Mom? Good Lord, the crazy woman with the dead-sounding voice was Willow’s
mother?

"There’s no cure but the fire," the woman replied, and it was obvious to
Graham that she believed it, even though he had no clue what she was talking
about. The cure for what?

"Buffy! Wake up!" This cry came from the other side of the room, and as
Willow turned her head, Graham was able to see an unconscious Slayer tied up
next to him, as well as another girl he didn’t recognize on Buffy’s other
side. Willow turned her head back to look at her mom and continued her
pleading.

"This is crazy, Mom."

"Buffy! Buffy!" the other girl cried again, and Graham could hear the panic
in her voice. He turned his head, this time to see the Slayer waking up,
groaning softly. Her eyes widened as she realized her surroundings.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," a blonde woman with the same curiously dead
voice as Willow’s mother said to the Slayer.

Buffy immediately focused on the woman, and Graham could see the pleading
look on her face. "Mom, you don’t want this," the Slayer said, and Graham’s
thoughts reeled. Both Buffy and Willow’s moms were involved in this?

"Since when does it matter what I want? I wanted a normal, happy daughter.
Instead I got a Slayer," the woman returned without any outward emotion.
Graham’s heart ached for the young Slayer as the girl turned her head to
look at him - well, Willow, really - with tears in her eyes.

"Torch." The single word came from Willow’s mother as she handed Buffy’s
mom a flaming torch.

"Thanks," the other woman responded pleasantly. "This has been so trying.
You’ve been such a champ."

"Oh, you, too, Joyce."

"We should stay close, have lunch," Joyce continued.

"Oh, I’d like that. How nice," Willow’s mom replied. Graham’s stomach
turned at how casually theses woman talked of getting together while they
went about the business of preparing to barbecue their daughters.

"Oh, you can’t be serious," the girl of Buffy’s other side sputtered.

Apparently they were.

"Mom, don’t!" Buffy cried desperately as Joyce leaned forward and lit the
stack of books surrounding the three bound girls on fire.

"All right!" the other girl said as the flames began to spread. "You want
to fry a witch? I’ll give you a witch," she told them before saying,
"Goddess Hecate, work thy will."

"Uh-oh," Buffy said in a small voice as the other girl continued, oblivious.

"Before thee let the unclean thing crawl," the girl finished, and Graham
could actually see the magick as it swirled through the air. He watched,
stunned, as the girl’s clothes collapsed in on themselves and a large rat
went running out of the room, leaving screaming woman in its wake.

"She couldn’t do us first?" Buffy managed in a slightly panicked voice.

Graham could feel Willow’s desperation as the flames continued to spread,
and he struggled against the ropes that held him. "You’ve seen what we can
do," Willow said in a voice that was far from threatening, even though he
could tell she was trying to hide her fear. "Another step and you will all
feel my power."

"What are you going to do, float a pencil at them?" Buffy asked in a half
whisper.

"It’s a really big power," Willow plunged on, ignoring her friend.

"Yes!" Buffy cried, apparently deciding to take Willow’s cue. "You will all
be turned into vermin. And some of you will be fish. Yeah, you in the back
will be fish."

"Maybe we should go," the balding man Buffy had singled out said nervously.

"But you promised," a young voice said, and Willow jerked her head in the
direction of the voice, allowing Graham to see two children standing in
front of Buffy. Two children who had most assuredly not been there before.
He could feel Willow’s rising horror at the sight, and he wondered just what
was going on.

"You have to kill the bad girls," the second child, a girl, said.

"Oh, no! Oh, God, help!" Willow cried, and Graham couldn’t tell what she
was more afraid of - the fire that was blazing around her or the children.

"They hurt us," the little girl continued.

"Burn them," the boy instructed in a condemning voice.

"Mom, dead people are talking to you. Do the math," Buffy exclaimed as she
continued to struggle against her ropes.

"I’m sorry, Buffy," Joyce replied.

"Mom, look at me," Buffy pleaded. "You love me. You’re not going to be
able to live with yourself if you do this."

"You earned this," Joyce replied. "You toyed with unnatural forces. What
kind of mother would I be if I didn’t punish you?"

Buffy stared in shocked sadness, and after a second, Willow finally spoke,
he voice desperate and sorry. "Buffy, I can’t take it. It’s too hot," she
said tears in her voice, and Graham could feel the trembling that was going
through the body he was in.

"I’m sorry, Will. If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened,"
the Slayer said sadly. "You wouldn’t be..." Buffy trailed off and her eyes
grew wide as two people burst into the room. A brunette girl smashed the
case holding the firehose and immediately pulled it out, aiming it at the
others.

"Stop them!" Joyce cried as the second person, who Graham recognized as
Giles, began chanting in another language.

"You like that, huh? How about some more?" the brunette taunted as she
turned the hose on the people full force. However, Graham’s attention was
on something else.

"Buffy, I’m on fire!" Willow cried, panicked.

"Cordelia, put out the fire!" Buffy demanded, catching the other girl’s
attention.

"Oh, right." The brunette put out the fire in seconds, and the small group
that was left in the room watched as the children approached Giles, who
threw a potion at them as he finished his incantation. The children looked
at each other, then embraced. Graham watched in horror as they began to
shift and grow, eventually becoming a horrific demon... }

"Oh, God," Cordelia whispered as she turned the corner and headed into
Willow’s hospital room, where both Willow and Graham were tossing and
turning in their sleep.

"Wake them up. Now," Angel ordered as he headed over to Willow. He wasn’t
about to be the one to wake the guy up, not with the possibility that he
would recognize him as Angelus. Graham had already been through enough
without him doing that. He shook the redhead, trying to force her awake
without injuring her further. She gasped once, then opened her eyes,
immediately focusing on the vampire above her.

"Angel?" she managed, relaxing only when he nodded.

Meanwhile, Cordelia was busy shaking Graham, and she sighed in relief when
his eyes popped open. "Cordelia..." he said softly before going into a
coughing fit, leaving the brunette to wonder how he knew her name. Quickly,
she grabbed the bottle of water she always kept in her bag and handed it to
him, hoping that drinking something would help his cough.

"Why are you here?" Willow asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between
Cordy and Angel.

"Giles called. He told us what was going on," Cordelia replied as Graham’s
coughing died down. "I take it this was another round of Nightmare
Masterpiece Theatre?"

"Something like that," Graham muttered as he looked over at Willow, an
incredulous look on his face. "Your mother tried to burn you at the
stake?!?"

"Yeah, I guess she did," Willow replied in a small voice as Angel reached
down to help her sit up. His hand accidentally brushed her own, and she
flinched back, causing Angel to wince in return.

"Willow?" Angel asked softly, taking a glance at the bruise on Graham’s
throat. Was Willow going to ask him to leave because of it? Did she hate
him now? "Is something wrong?" he forced himself to ask.

The tiny redhead looked up at Angel with tears in her eyes as she cradled
her hand to her chest. "I... I think my hand’s broken," she whispered.

Part Ten

Angel paced back and forth in the small waiting area while Willow’s hand -
which was indeed broken - was examined and set by a doctor. The group had
offered the doctor no explanation for the redhead’s new injury, and they
didn’t intend to, mainly because they weren’t feeling up to creating a
feasible lie, and they didn’t think ‘she dreamed it’ would cut it, not even
here at Sunnydale General, where they were used to the bizarre. The staff
may accept that countless people had fallen on barbecue forks, leaving
perfect twin holes in their throats and causing them to lose a great deal of
blood, but dreaming oneself into an injury was just a little too weird, even
for the Hellmouth. In any case, Willow was in competent hands now, having
her new injury tended to. Cordelia had brow-beaten Graham into being
examined as well, and, besides a mild case of inexplicable smoke inhalation,
the man was perfectly fine, and he had been allowed to head back to the
waiting area to wait with Angel and Cordelia.

"You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you don’t stop that," Cordelia
warned the worried vampire as she watched him wearily. He was beginning to
make her dizzy. When it became apparent that Angel was going to ignore her,
she turned to look at Graham, who was absently rubbing his throat. "You
okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice as she studied him. Damn, this
guy was hot. Unfortunately, given the looks he had sent Willow’s way, he
wasn’t available. Oh, well. There was always that Forrest guy. He was
pretty darn attractive, too.

"What?" Graham asked as his head shot up. After a moment, the brunette’s
question registered. "Oh, yeah, I’m fine." In truth, he wasn’t fine, not
really. He had broken his hand twice in his life, but the look in Willow’s
eyes had told him that she hadn’t gotten a dream about the time he’d fallen
out of a tree. Which only left one other possibility - the time his father
had purposely slammed his hand in a drawer. Damn, he wished Willow hadn’t
been forced to go through that. Sighing, Graham repeated himself, trying to
sound convincing. "I’m fine."

"Completely preoccupied, but fine," the brunette concluded, a slight smile
on her face. She knew there had to be a lot on Graham’s mind right now, and
she thought she was pretty sure what the foremost question was. As the
young man’s gaze wandered, Cordelia followed it, not at all surprised when
the path led to Angel. "Go ahead and ask."

"What?" Graham asked, finally turning to look at her. Cordelia smiled at
him.

"I said, ‘go ahead and ask.’ I know you want to."

"I don’t understand. I mean, in my dream, I’m pretty sure Angel was the guy
who hand his hand around my throat, ready to kill me. But Willow... just
now she wasn’t afraid of him. And he doesn’t seem evil..."

"He’s not. At least, not usually. He’s even saved my life on several
occasions. Willow’s, too. In fact, that was one of the dreams Riley got.
Angel saving her from Mrs. Post."

"But he is a vampire, right?" Graham asked, unaware that Angel had stopped
his pacing and was now listening to the conversation between his secretary
and the young man.

"Yes, I am," Angel replied before Cordelia could speak. Graham met his eyes
for a moment, and Angel was once again struck by the haunted look in them.
The look had been there from the moment Willow had announced that her hand
was broken, and he was pretty sure he knew the basic circumstances under
which Graham had broken his hand. Angel had seen enough people victimized
to understand the look, and he could tell that Graham realized that he knew
by the way the young man’s face closed off slightly before he lowered his
head.

"Then how... why?" Graham questioned as he stared at the floor. He couldn’t
stand the look Angel was giving him. It wasn’t pity... pity would have just
made him angry. It was understanding. And Graham didn’t think a vampire
could really have an understanding of what it was like to be abused by
someone that was supposed to protect you. "I don’t understand. I thought
vampires were evil."

"They are, for the most part. Angel’s kind of the exception," Cordelia
piped up.

"That’s the part I’m not getting," Graham said as he looked up at Angel.
"What makes you the exception? And if you’re the exception, why did I have
a dream about you trying to kill Willow?"

"It’s complicated," the vampire began, only to be interrupted by Cordelia.

"He had a soul, he lost it, Willow gave it back to him. He only tried to
murder us during his soulless phase... which means you don’t have to be
afraid of him or anything."

"Okay, maybe it’s not so complicated," Angel muttered.

"Excuse me? Mr. Miller?" The entire group looked up at the sound of the
nurse’s voice, and Graham stood.

"Yes?"

"We’re done setting Miss Rosenberg’s hand. You’re welcome to go back and
keep her company now."

The trio was halfway down the hall before the nurse finished speaking.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Tara was angry.

And she had quite the temper. It wasn’t something many people knew about.
She hid it well, and only a select few could tell when she was on slow burn
underneath her childlike exterior.

And she was definitely on slow burn - and moving to a boil - right now.

Tara didn’t like to be a afraid. Sure, sometimes it was fun. Why else
would she go to scary movies? But this thing with Faith was different.
From the moment she had seen the other girl, she had known something was off
about her, and that had terrified Tara. And Faith had known it, and she had
played off it. And, now that Faith was safely gone... well, wherever it was
that she went, Tara was free to lose the fear and go with the anger.

So Tara was pissed.

Then came Xander. What kind of name was Xander? Not that it mattered.
What mattered was that he had yelled at her, telling her that he would have
never allowed Faith to bully him into doing what she had done.
Self-righteous bastard. How did he know what he would have done? Had he
faced Faith and had her threaten him? No, he had not. No, he had just
yelled at her, then left in a holier-than-thou huff. It wasn’t like she had
wanted to do the spell. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Willow. But she had to,
and Xander just couldn’t understand that.

So Tara was pissed at Xander, too.

Of course, it never occurred to her that the person she was the angriest
with was herself.

Carefully, Tara set out the herbs she needed for the spell. It wasn’t the
spell Faith had wanted - it was nowhere close to that - but it was
definitely a spell that Tara wanted. She giggled softly. After she was
done with this, she would find a way to reverse the spell she had used on
Willow... Then she would be a hero. Well, she would be as long as Xander
hadn’t blabbed about what she had done. She wrinkled her nose up with a
sigh. She should have blocked his memories before he left. Too late for
that now.

Humming softly, Tara finished the preparations for the spell, then looked
around with a discerning eye, making sure everything was in its proper
place. She wasn’t about to take the chance that this spell would go wrong,
not after what had happened last time.

Poor Willow.

She really did feel terrible about that. She’d hated doing the spell in the
first place, and then to have it go wrong like that...

Of course, what she was doing now would make up for it. She’d take care of
Faith for Willow. And Xander... Well, she was sorry about Xander. But he
had pissed her off. Besides, it wasn’t like what she was doing to him was
permanent or anything. It would wear off... eventually. And he’d learn his
lesson. He’d have to, because she didn’t want to hurt him any worse. That
would probably upset Willow, and she didn’t want to do that.

Sighing, Tara moved to the middle of the circle and closed it, preparing
herself to do the spell. She prayed to the Goddess before invoking her name
and beginning the spell. Tara tried to ignore the shaking of her hands as
she mixed the herbs. Her voice trembled as she began to chant, and she
frowned, upset with herself for being so timid.
She hated being so timid.

It made her angry.

Her voice steadier, she continued to chant as she mixed the various herbs,
unaware that a slightly malicious smirk was curling her lips as she spoke.
Her voice rose as she went on, even steadier and more forceful as she felt
the power begin to build. The air was practically crackling with the magick
that flowed through it, and the thought made Tara just a bit giddy. The
power, the energy... she loved it. She loved the feel of magick flowing
through her, of knowing that it was hers to wield. She loved it, and she
usually used it well. She’d been taught to respect the gift of magick that
had been bestowed upon her, and to be thankful for it. And she was.

But she was also angry.

Respect and love for magick wasn’t what was on her mind now. Revenge on
those that had hurt her controlled her senses, and the angry energy mingled
with the magick in the air until it was nearly electric. The combination
caused the fine hairs on her arms to rise, and a tingle went through her
body as her chanting reached an even higher volume. She could feel the
magick zinging through the air around her, almost as if it was alive, and
she smiled at the thought. She had never wielded so much power before. And
what a perfect time for it, too. She was going to get her revenge, and she
was going to get it good.

Revenge.

The word echoed through her mind, causing her to pause in her chanting. Oh,
Goddess, what was she doing? Whatever had happened to ‘and it harm none?’
This spell would do more than harm, it would... oh, Goddess. How could she
have let her anger control her in such away? How could she have let her
thirst for vengeance pull her so far of the course she had chosen for
herself. She wasn’t supposed to hurt people... As her mind whirled
frantically in a futile attempt to figure out just what the hell she had
been thinking, she stopped chanting completely.

And she lost control.

The air crackled with unharnessed energy, and tears ran down Tara’s cheeks
as she felt it continued to build around her. There was so much, too much,
and there was nowhere for it to go. Nowhere for it to go... except directly
at the one who had called it.

Frantic prayers to the Goddess tumbled of Tara’s lips as the power in the
air became more concentrated, and panicked thoughts about instant karma and
getting back what you give threefold, mixed with a few old sayings about
reaping what you sow and what goes around coming around flew through her
head as the the energy in the air hit the breaking point and the full impact
of the backlash of the magick she had called came hurtling back towards her.

She was dead before she hit the floor.

Part Eleven

Even though all three of them had rushed down the hall at the nurse’s
proclamation that they could go and see Willow, eager to see the small
redhead, Angel paused in the doorway when he arrived. He somehow felt that,
if he entered, he would be interrupting something. Cordelia came to a halt
beside him, and he turned to her, wondering if she felt the same thing...
wondering if she could sense the... connection between Willow and Graham.

The brunette was watched the pair, her brow furrowed slightly. She knew
from Buffy that Willow and Graham had only just met, but they didn’t really
act like it. Cordelia slanted a quick look at her boss, trying to gage what
he was thinking, but Angel was as impassive as always. Cordelia sighed
softly, wondering just what had made her volunteer to be the one to give
Willow the news that her friend had been the one to do the spell. That
revelation would probably destroy the little redhead, and Cordelia thought
she looked like she had been through more than enough over the past
twenty-four hours. Willow certainly didn’t need more bad news... But that
was what Cordy was here to give her.

Graham cupped Willow face between his hands as he sat on the edge of her
bed. "Are you okay?" he asked her softly, his face less than three inches
from hers. His eyes bore down into hers, sorrow and worry evident in their
blue depths.

Willow smiled sadly at him. Her hand ached dully, and she was pretty much
sore all over, but, in her mind, the worst part about everything was seeing
what Graham had been forced to go through during his childhood. It was
difficult to believe that the scared, abused little boy had somehow evolved
into this strong, self-contained man. "I’m okay, Graham. I promise," she
told him, reaching up to cover his hand with her good one. "It’s not so
bad. I’m sure I’ll get plenty of sympathy back on campus. I probably won’t
have to carry my own books to class for the rest of the semester," she said
with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"I’ll be the one carrying your books for the rest of the semester," Graham
informed her with a smile of his own before leaning down and pressing his
lips to hers in a soft kiss, completely forgetting that Angel and Cordelia
were there. After a moment, he pulled back, suddenly unsure. His eyes bore
into hers as if looking for the answer to some incredibly important
question. "Was that... was that okay?" he asked quietly.

"Okay? It’s beyond okay; I’d say it’s downright good," Willow said with a
grin as she leaned in to kiss Graham briefly. When she pulled back, her
gaze moved over to the door where Angel stood pretending he wasn’t watching
them and Cordelia watched with unabashed interest, grinning like a fool, the
fact that she was there to deliver bad news momentarily forgotten.

"Hi, guys," Willow said softly as Graham shifted his position, dropping his
hands from Willow’s face and turning to look at the pair in the doorway.
"Not that it isn’t good to see you, but why are you here?"

"Giles called us. He asked us to come down to help. Wesley’s here, too...
He’s back at Giles’s apartment with the others," Angel said as he entered
the room. He was pretty sure that, even though Cordelia had offered to be
the bearer of bad news, the job of actually delivering it would fall to him.
He wanted desperately to sit next to her and hold her hand while he told
her about Tara being the one to perform the spell, but Graham was currently
in that position, and Angel had to admit the young man looked as if he
belonged there. The vampire hoped that Graham wouldn’t do anything to hurt
Willow. He’d hate to have to kill him.

"Oh... Well, um, thanks for coming. Have... have you found anything out
yet?" the redhead asked. Although Angel was known for his ability to keep
his features impassive, Willow could sense something just below the surface;
she could tell that Angel had news, and the vampire wasn’t looking forward
to sharing it.

"We have," Angel confirmed. "We know who ordered the spell... It was
Faith."

Willow simply nodded at that revelation, and Angel knew she had expected as
much. He also knew that she was waiting for more.

"Look, Willow, I’m not sure how to tell you this..."

"Oh, God, no," Willow said, suddenly stricken by a terrifying thought.
"She’s gone after someone else, hasn’t she? It’s Xander, isn’t it? I asked
him to go find Tara, and he was out there all alone, and Faith found him-"

"No!" Angel cried, effectively stopping the redhead’s scenario from spilling
from her lips. He was pretty sure he didn't want to hear the rest.
"Nothing even close to that happened," he assured her as he walked around to
the other side of the bed, wanting to be closer to her. "Xander’s fine. He
came back to Giles’s apartment after talking to Tara..."

"Then what’s wrong?" Willow asked her gaze moving from Angel to Cordelia.
The pretty brunette gulped as she walked into the room.

"Well," Cordelia said as she twisted her hands, wishing she were anywhere
but this hospital room in Sunnydale General. "Um, you see... It seems that
Faith’s been spying on you guys for a few days... and she found out that
Tara’s a witch. Tara’s... she’s the one who did the spell. Faith
threatened her, and, well..."

"She did it," Willow finished dully, her eyes filled with tears. She
dropped Graham’s hand and covered her face. "She cast the spell. She’s the
one who..." The small redhead took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
She had been so glad when she and Tara had become friends, thrilled that she
had found a fellow witch to talk to and work with. Now... well, she no
longer felt thrilled. She just felt betrayed. "I guess that means you know
what spell was used now. I mean, since you found the person who cast it and
everything."

"Willow, I’m so-"

"Don’t say it," she told Angel, lifting a hand as if to stop the words from
falling from his lips. "I know you feel bad about this, and you shouldn’t.
It’s not your fault. I mean, you didn’t cast the spell. That was Tara.
And you sure as hell weren’t the one who wanted her to cast the spell in the
first place. That honor goes to Faith."

"Willow..." Cordelia began, only to trail off when she realized that she had
no idea what to say.

"Don’t say anything, okay? It doesn’t change anything, and Graham and
Forrest and Riley and I still have this spell cast on us." With a shaky
sigh, Willow wiped her face and glanced up. "I’d... I’d just like to be
alone for awhile, okay?"

"I don’t know if that’s-"

"Please?" Willow asked, interrupting Graham’s objection. She looked around
the room, her eyes imploring the others to understand. "I... I just need to
be alone for awhile. That’s all. I just need some time to take this all
in. Please, just let me be alone for a little bit."

Graham sighed, knowing he was helpless against the look in Willow’s eyes.
With a resigned look on his face, he leaned over and kissed the redhead
gently before standing and looking at the others. Angel nodded his
acquiesce to Willow’s request, and Cordelia simply turned and walked out in
silence. The men made their way out more slowly, both turning to look at
Willow for a moment before leaving and shutting the door behind them. Once
they were a safe distance away from the room, however, Angel spoke.

"We’ve got to find Faith," the vampire told the others quietly. "If she’s
got some kind of hold over this Tara girl, then maybe if we’ve got Faith, we
can convince Tara it’s safe to reverse the spell." Sighing, Angel looked
out of one of the windows, glad to see that the light was finally fading.
This had to have been the longest day of his unlife. "It’s almost sunset.
As soon as it’s dark, I’ll go out and look for Faith."

"And while you’re doing that, I’m staying here," Graham decided.

"But Willow said-"

"I don’t care what she said," Graham said, cutting Cordelia off. "She can
be alone all she wants, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to stay here and
watch over her. I’ll give her the space she needs, but I’m not leaving the
hospital."

"And while you two are playing hero for Wills, what am I supposed to do?"
the brunette asked.

"Well, just in case Tara still refuses to do a reversal spell... or if I
can’t find Faith, for that matter, we should probably be looking for a
reversal spell ourselves. I think it would be best if you went back to the
apartment and helped with that. I’ll drop you off," Angel told her.

"Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can take a cab, or walk..."

"No," Angel said forcefully, effectively crushing that idea. "Faith is out
there, and we have no idea what she’s up to. None of us are going anywhere
alone."

"Oh, yeah, this coming from Mr. I’m Going Out to Look For the Crazy Slayer
All By Myself," Cordy retorted, drawing a reluctant smile from her boss,
which he quickly covered.

"Yes, well, I’m a vampire. If I didn’t know how to handle Slayers, I would
have ended up on the wrong end of a stake a long time ago. I can deal with
Faith."

"If you find her."

"When I find her."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

It was dark now, so Faith, bringing the bright if somewhat imbalanced Slayer
that she, was carrying both a stake and a knife as she wandered the streets
of Sunnydale. It had been several hours since she had left a very
frightened Tara with orders to find a way to reverse the spell on Willow,
and the brunette Slayer was getting antsy. She knew she had told the witch
that she had until the next day, but it was so difficult to wait.

With a sigh, Faith turned down another alley, keeping her eyes open for cop
cars. She knew that with Mayor Wilkins gone, her crimes had come to light,
and she figured she was probably even on one of those little wanted posters
in the post office.

She hoped the picture was blurry.

Faith tensed suddenly as she sensed someone behind her, following her, and
her Slayer senses told her that whoever it was definitely wasn’t human.
With a nervous jerk of her shoulders, Faith quickened her pace, not really
caring if the vampire or whatever it was thought she was a coward for
dodging a fight. She was too preoccupied with her numerous problems to do
much of anything right now. She was carrying weapons to use only if a fight
became inevitable and she was forced to defend
herself.

Shaking her head, Faith laughed softly at herself as she turned yet another
corner, winding her way aimlessly through the streets. A year ago, she
would have been raring for a fight, for any fight, and now... now she was
just too tired.

But apparently whoever was following her wasn’t going to take no for an
answer.

The footsteps quickened, and Faith’s did so in turn as she ducked into the
nearest alley, cursing when she realized it was a dead. "Oh, this is just
perfect," she muttered in disgust. "This is just my luck." Sighing in
defeat, the brunette reached inside her jacket and pulled out her stake.

"Now, now, now. Is that any way to greet an old friend? Oh, wait, I
forgot. We’re not friends. Hello, Faith," a very familiar voice stated as
a dark figure made its way into the alley.

"Hello, Angel."

Part Twelve

"How is she? How did she take it?" Xander asked, practically pouncing on
Cordelia as soon as she walked through the door. The brunette ignored him
as she walked into Giles’s kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, then
looked up to glare at her former boyfriend as he followed her.

"How would you feel if I came to tell you that... say... Giles had put some
terrible hex on you, huh? God, how do you think she feels? She’s sharing
nightmares with three guys, courtesy of Faith and Tara, she’s been totally
betrayed by someone she trusted, she’s all beat up... I mean, God... all
those cuts and bruises, a broken hand-"

"Broken hand?" Buffy’s shocked voice broke into Cordy’s tirade as the tiny
blonde jumped up from her spot on the couch. "Her hand wasn’t broken
earlier."

"I know," Cordelia replied as she walked back into the living room. She
glanced at Forrest and Riley, taking in their surprised looks. "I’m
guessing you guys weren’t napping, oh say, about an hour ago?" she said,
then continued when they muttered that they hadn’t been asleep. "Didn’t
think so. Anyway, apparently, the connection works whenever Will and one of
the guys is asleep. Angel and I walked in to find Wills and Graham in the
middle of a nightmare. Definitely not of the fun. Graham nearly got burned
at the stake this time, and well, Willow ended up with a broken hand. Not
sure what the dream was actually about, though," she said with a shrug.

"Good God," Forrest muttered. His sentiments were matched by Spike, who
could be heard uttering a soft ‘bloody hell’ from across the room.

"My thoughts exactly," Cordelia said quietly as she sipped her water. "Do
you guys have anything? Anything that may help reverse the spell? ‘Cause,
you know, I really don’t think you guys want to be sleeping in shifts for
the rest of your lives."

"We’re working on it, but none of us are overly skilled when it comes to
magick," Riley informed her. "Anya and Giles are the only ones with much
experience, and they haven’t figured anything out yet."

Cordelia looked at Anya, who shrugged apologetically. "I’m trying. I
really, really am. It’s just I haven’t had much use for actual spells for a
long time. I didn’t need them when I had my powers."

"You have a point there," the brunette conceded. "Well, we’ve got to keep
looking, anyhow," Cordelia continued with a shrug as she sat down next to
the former demon. "I mean, Willow and the guys can’t live like this
forever. Angel’s out looking for Faith right now. With any luck, Tara will
help us once she finds out we can protect her from Faith. If she was enough
of a witch to cast the spell, hopefully she’ll be enough of a witch to
reverse it."

"Even if she did manage to muck it up in the first place," Spike muttered.

"She was scared," Xander reminded them.

"What?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Tara. She was scared. Faith terrified her. It could have made her screw
up the spell... or maybe that’s what Faith wanted... a variation of the real
spell. Either way, Tara should be able to fix it. I mean, if Angel catches
Faith, then the person Tara was afraid of is under control. If this is what
Faith really wanted, then Tara may already know how to reverse the spell."

"Let’s hope you’re right," Cordelia murmured quietly. "And let’s hope Angel
finds Faith." The group nodded their general consensus and went back to
their work, only to be interrupted again a few moments later.

"How’s Willow holding up, though?" Xander asked.

Cordelia sighed as she looked up from the book she and Buffy were currently
looking through. "She’s upset; she feels betrayed. I mean, who wouldn’t?
She thought Tara was her fried, and now... Well, it just sucks. But
Graham’s with her. He’ll take are of her." She met Buffy’s speculative
gaze and shrugged. "There’s something there... There’s something between
those two. I can’t explain it, but I can see it. Angel could, too. And
that was before Graham kissed her."

"I saw it, too... What?" Xander exclaimed as Cordelia’s final statement
registered. "He kissed her?"

"Yup. Not a major kiss or anything, but it was definitely a kiss. And he
seems like a good guy. Better than dogboy, anyway."

Buffy smiled slightly at the thought of her friend getting together with
Graham. "Well, at least something good seems to be coming from this mess."

"Yeah, Buffs. It completely wipes out the whole thing where Wills is in the
hospital," Cordy replied sarcastically.

"Hey, we have to take the good stuff where we can find it."

"Whatever."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Long time, no see, Faith." The vampire stayed in the shadows at the head
of the alley, completely bathed in darkness. The brunette Slayer wouldn’t
have had a clue who he was if not for the voice. "Last I heard, you were in
a coma courtesy of Buffy." His voice grew hard as he continued. "You
should have stayed that way."

"What do you want?" Faith ground out as she changed the grip on her stake,
her hand shaking slightly. She hated to admit it, but Angel was giving her
the creeps.

"Oh, there are lots of things that I want. A house on the beach, the
ability to watch a sunrise without spontaneously combusting... for Willow to
get better. Yeah, I think that’s number one on my list right now. Willow
getting better."

"That wasn’t my fault."

"I’m sure it wasn’t, Faith. It never is, is it? Nothing’s ever your fault.
Crappy childhood and all that. You’re just lashing out at the society
that treated you so badly. Right." Angel moved so quickly she actually
missed it, and suddenly he was in front of her, and the stake she had been
holding was in his hand. With a ghost of a smile, he studied the piece of
wood for a moment, then he tossed it over his shoulder. "Out of practice,
aren’t you, Faith? Guess it’s just your good luck that I don’t actually
want you dead. At least not yet. Of course, I could change my mind about
that, you know."

"What do you want?" Faith asked again as she took a step back. Angel
followed her progress, forcing her backwards until she hit the wall. The
vampire smiled as he stopped just inches away from her.

"I thought I already answered that question."

"What do you want from me?" she clarified, hating the fact that her heart
was pounding wildly in her chest. This was Angel... brooding Angel, who had
a soul and never hurt anybody. Only... it wasn’t. "Who are you?" she
blurted suddenly.

The vampire’s face went blank for a moment, then he laughed, stepping back
as he did so. The sound of his laughter was harsh and without any real
humor. "Oh, trust me, Slayer. I still have my soul, which is fortunate for
you, I guess. If I didn’t I’d have killed you before you even realized I
was attacking you."

"Confident of your abilities, aren’t you?"

"You could say that. I also know you’ve lost a step. Is that why you chose
to go after Willow this way? Because you knew if you attacked her directly,
Buffy would simply find you and kick your ass?"

"I can handle Buffy."

"Sure you can," Angel said, his voice more than a little mocking. He
studied the ground for a moment before lifting his head once more pinning
her with a look that was more than a little feral. "Why her, Faith? Why
Willow? What did she ever do to you? And don’t try to claim that a few
insults are enough of a reason for this kind of vengeance. Is it because
you’re jealous of her?"

"Why would I be jealous?"

"Because everyone loves Willow. They’ve always loved Willow. We can’t help
but love her. But when has anyone ever loved you? Never?"

"Don’t say that!" the Slayer burst out, trying to control the shaking of her
voice. She bit her lip in a vain attempt to keep it from trembling.

Angel recognized the emotions that the girl in front of him was trying to
hold in, and he plunged on, determined to make the most of the edge he had
gained. "Why shouldn’t I say it? I’m sure it’s what you tell yourself
every day. And who knows? Maybe it’s true. But it didn’t have to be that
way. We did care about you... before. You’re the one who chose to give up
on us, Faith. You turned on us. We dealt with that. But now you’ve gone
too far."

"This isn’t what was supposed to happen. The spell... it wasn’t supposed to
go this way."

"Then what was supposed to happen?" Angel asked, stepping forward once more,
closing the distance between himself and the Slayer to mere inches. Faith’s
eyes had gone from belligerent and hateful to pleading, which the vampire
thought was a step in the right direction. He was more likely to get
information from her this way.

"I wanted her to hurt," Faith admitted. "But not like this... It wasn’t
supposed to be this bad. Just one guy... and just one way. The guy wasn’t
supposed to get it. But she screwed up."

"Tara."

"Yeah... Wait. How did..."

"Let’s just say we figured it out. So what happened next Faith? Did you
say ‘oops’ and move on? Just write it off as one of those minor mistakes
you seem to be so good at making?"

"I told her to fix it!" Faith protested, her voice forceful. "It wasn’t
supposed to be like this! I told her to fix it! I promise you... I told
her to fix it. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Angel stepped back, saw the truth shining in her eyes. Saw the fear.
"Wasn’t supposed to be like what, Faith? So real?"

"I... I don’t know. All I know is that I didn’t mean for things to go this
way. It’s... it’s just so out of hand. I told her to fix it, Angel. I
told her to be back tomorrow, and she’d better be ready to fix it. I didn’t
mean for those guys to get so involved. I don’t even know them. Why would
I want to hurt them?"

"I don’t know, Faith. But you did want to hurt Willow, didn’t you?"

"Not this badly."

"But-"

"Yes! I wanted to hurt her! Are you happy now?"

"No, I’m not. But I will be," Angel ground out as he grabbed the Slayer by
the arm and began dragging her out of the alley.

"What are you doing?" Faith cried, struggling. She yelped when Angel only
tightened his grip. "Where are we going? Where are you taking me?"

"You made a mess of it again, Faith, and, this time, I'm not just going to
sit back while you let someone else make it all go away. It’s about time
you learned how to fix what you break."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" the brunette Slayer asked as
she managed to pull away from the furious vampire.

"It means," Angel hissed out as he grabbed her once more, this time hard
enough to leave a few bruises, "that I’m sick of you letting other people
clean up your messes. I’m sick of you not owning up to what you’ve done.
Now," he said as he once again began jerking her along, "it’s time to change
that. You’re the one who ordered the spell, Faith. So you’re going to help
find the remedy."

"What?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Slayer? We’re going to pay Tara a
little visit, and you’re going to help her make things right."

Part Thirteen

"How are you doing?" Graham spoke the words softly as he stood in the
doorway of Willow’s hospital room, and the redhead glanced quickly at him,
then looked away.

"You came back," she stated quietly.

"I never left, actually. Cordelia went back to the apartment to help the
others, and Angel went out to look for Faith, but... I never left."

"I thought I said I wanted to be alone. In fact, I’m sure I said it."

"That you did. And I did listen to you," Graham replied as he stepped into
her room and walked over to one of the visitor’s chairs. He settled himself
in the uncomfortable plastic and vinyl seat, then continued speaking. "I’ll
have you know that I listened to and heeded your request for a full
thirty-seven minutes. And during that time, I drank two cups of coffee, ate
one of those disgusting vending machine sandwiches, warded off advances from
no fewer than three nurses, one of which was old enough to be my mother, and
people-watched, which, considering the fact that this is a hospital, was
incredibly depressing. However, I did also manage to overhear a few
interesting conversations, one of which led me to believe Doctor MacGregor
is having an affair with Doctor Morrison. Either that, or they’re just
really, really close friends."

"Quite the interesting thirty-seven minutes you had," Willow told him,
smiling despite herself. "You know, if you were bored, you didn’t have to
stay. You could have gone with Angel or Cordelia."

"I wanted to stay. I didn’t want you to be here alone. Not for long,
anyway," Graham told the redhead as he stood up, reaching across the space
between them to brush a few strands of hair from her face. "You feel better
now?" he asked as he settled himself on the edge of her bed.

"Well, I didn’t exactly get to have the screaming fit that I’d like to
indulge in-"

"Good. I would’ve hated to miss a good temper tantrum."

Willow smiled, then quickly sobered. "Stop it," she chastised him.

"Stop what? Making you smile? Don’t think I can do that. I’ve discovered
I rather like making you smile. It’s rather addictive. I mean, you have a
beautiful smile, and I love seeing it. I haven’t seen it nearly enough.
And considering the circumstances," he continued as he gestured to the
sterile white walls that surrounded them, "it’s understandable. However,
that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying for one."

"But... I should-"

"Feel hurt and betrayed?" Graham asked, sobering slightly. "You have every
right to feel that way, and I’m sure you do. What Tara did was wrong. And
she’s going to have to face what she did, and she’ll have to fix it. I
think Angel has something along those lines planned for Faith, too." Graham
paused then, small smile gracing his lips when he continued. "I imagine
that right now, with everything that has happened over the past twenty-four
hours, you probably want to rant and scream and cry, and I don’t blame you
for that. However, I’d just like to say that I’d really appreciate a front
row seat when you do so. I think it would be quite entertaining. I’ve
always been told that redheads throw great temper tantrums."

"You’re strange."

"Well, I have been friends with Forrest and Riley for the past three years.
Being strange goes with the territory," he told her, mentally congratulating
himself when the redhead laughed. The sweet sound was music to his ears.
It seemed that, for the moment at least, he had pulled her mind from her
troubles, which had been his goal in the first place.

"I know what you’re doing," she said after a moment, her voice holding a
slightly mischievous note.

"Is that so?" he asked.

"You’re just trying to distract me so I’ll forget about the whole Tara
thing."

"And how am I doing so far?"

"Not bad," Willow allowed. "But you could do better."

"And how is that?" Graham asked, swallowing hard as he realized that as the
teasing conversation had gone on, their faces had been getting closer and
closer. Their lips were less than an inch apart, and he suddenly found
himself remembering the chaste kiss they had shared less than an hour
before. It had lasted barely a moment, but it had been long enough for him
to notice just how soft and inviting her lips were. He wanted to kiss her
again, and this time he wanted to linger.

"Well," Willow said with a small smile curling her lips, well aware that his
eyes were focused directly on her mouth. She licked her lips just so she
could watch his eyes darken. "Remember how you kissed me before?" she asked
innocently.

"Yeah," he managed. He glanced into her eyes, noting the knowledge and
laughter in them. She knew what he wanted, and she was playing with him.
He wondered what she’d do if he called her on her game and just kissed her.

"Well, I was thinking... we really weren’t into it then. I mean, I’d just
found out about the whole Tara thing. But now... well, I really need
distracted, you know. And I think that would be the perfect way to do it."

"Miss Rosenberg, are you coming on to me?"

"Is it working?"

"Definitely," Graham said as he pulled Willow into his arms, being careful
of her injuries, and pressed his lips to hers.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Which way to her dorm room?" Angel asked as he continued to drag Faith
across campus. The odd couple got more than a few looks, but no one dared
to question the angry vampire, even though it was obvious that the young
woman with him did not particularly want to be pulled along the pathway by
her arm.

"This is stupid," the brunette Slayer practically growled, still trying to
pull free from Angel’s grip. The vampire merely snarled softly and
tightened his grip, causing her to wince. She was going to have bruises on
top of bruises because of this.

"You’ve done a lot of stupid things, Faith. If it makes you more
cooperative, you can just chalk this up to one more, okay? Now," Angel
continued as he stopped and jerked Faith around to face him, "which way?"

"Excuse me. Is everything okay here?"

The young male voice broke the tense silence between the two, and Angel
could sense the Slayer’s feeling of triumph. She obviously thought she was
going to get away.

"Don’t even think it, Slayer," Angel growled at her, his voice so soft she
could barely hear him. "You’re wanted for at least two murders that I know
of, and if you even think about dragging that guy into this, I’ll knock him
unconscious, then drag your sorry ass into the nearest police station and
leave you there to rot."

"What about Willow?" she asked him with a smirk.

"With you in jail, Tara would have nothing to be afraid of, now would she?
Your choice, Faith. Go see Tara, or go see the police."

"Is everything okay here?" the guy asked again, stepping closer.

"I’m fine," Faith finally said, glancing at the guy. "Everything’s okay
here."

"Are you sure, because-"

"Just go!" Faith snarled.

"Things don’t look-"

"The lady said go!" Angel snarled as he turned on the guy, his demonic
visage prevalent.

The guy stepped back, fear blossoming on his features at the unexpected
sight of the vampire’s true face. With a startled yelp, he turned and
stumbled away, fleeing from the pair.

"Oh, yeah, that was a brave guy. Like he’d really be able to help anyone,"
Faith muttered, once more trying to yank her arm out of Angel’s grasp.

"Stop that, damn it. It’s annoying. I’m not letting you go. I trust you
about as far as-"

"As what? As far as you can throw me? ‘Cause with you being a vampire and
all, I bet that’s pretty far."

"About as far as Tara can throw you," Angel finally said, shooting a glare
at the Slayer. His human face was back in place once more, though he looked
no less dangerous than he had just moments before. Sighing, he continued on
his way, walking so quickly that Faith practically had to jog to keep from
getting dragged. "Speaking of Tara... where to, Faith? Where is the little
witch?"

"Probably asleep in bed, which is why this is pointless."

"Is she afraid of you?"

"What?"

"Simple question, Slayer. Is the witch afraid of you?"

"Of course she is."

"No need to sound so proud about it. There are better ways to get things
done than through fear."

"Maybe you should take your own advice," Faith countered, stopping suddenly.
Angel whirled around to face her.

"You’re not afraid of me, Faith. We both know that. And even if I was
using fear against you... Well, I tried reason and a few other things last
year, and quite frankly, it blew up in my face. Now, I’ll use anything in
my power to get you to do what I want. And that’s not the point here,
anyway."

"What is?"

"The point is, Tara’s afraid of you. You told her to have the spell ready
by tomorrow; I really don’t think she’s going to rest easy until she’s found
it for you. Now. One more time, then I get nasty. Where the hell is she?"

"That way," Faith replied sullenly, pointing in the direction of the nearest
dorm.

"See? You can actually answer questions, and it won’t kill you. Next time,
it might be easier to just answer them right off. A lot less yelling and
bruising that way. Which room?" Angel asked as he pulled her into the lobby
of the dorm.

"This way," Faith grumbled, leading him into one of the hallways, glad to
finally be the one who was doing the leading. It meant he wasn’t dragging
her anywhere, which improved things a bit, even though he didn’t reduce the
pressure he was placing on her arm. After a few more turns, she came to a
stop outside of the room she was seeking. "This is it."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Faith shrugged, then lifted her hand to knock on the blonde witch’s door.
After a moment, she knocked again, then turned her head to glare at the
vampire. "See? I told you she was probably asleep."

"Then I guess we’ll have to wake her up."

"If she was going to wake up, don’t you think the knocking..." she trailed
off as Angel just glared at her. "You want me to just barge in there?" she
asked as understanding dawned.

"It’s what you did before, isn’t it? Does she have a roommate you might
terrify?"

"No. It’s a single room," Faith muttered. "She’ll scream when she sees
you, though."

"I’m not going in just yet. I need an invitation. The room technically
belongs to her. I can only enter public buildings or the homes of dead
people without an invitation. And if you think you can escape me by going
out her window or something, think again. Because if you do that, I will
hunt you down and turn you in to the cops."

"Fine," Faith grumbled as she twisted the doorknob. She’d broken the lock
on it earlier, so the door opened easily. She entered the room slowly, then
gasped at the sight before her.

Tara lay on her back, her legs curled under her, half in and half out of a
circle that had literally been scorched into the carpet. Her arms were
flung out at her sides. With a quiet curse, Faith crossed the room and
dropped to her knees frantically feeling for a pulse. She didn’t even
notice when Angel entered the room, crossing the threshold that was no
longer a barrier to him. Quietly, he closed the door, then walked over to
Faith and Tara, kneeling beside them.

"She’s dead," Faith whispered softly, disbelief in her voice.

"I know."

Part Fourteen

"You know? We’re sitting in a dorm room with a dead body, and all you can
say is ‘I know’? That’s great. That’s just great. Thank you, Mr.
Vampire." Faith’s voice, though still not all that loud, was filled with an
edge of hysteria. This so could not be happening to her. Not here. Not
now. She had told the witch to find a way to reverse the spell she’d
ordered her to do, and now, here she was, gazing down at the dead body of
her best chance to fix things. Well, her best chance to fix this particular
thing... her latest disaster. What was she going to do now? What was
Willow going to do now? And the others... the guys... Oh, no, what had she
done?

"Stop it," Angel commanded, sensing the quiet desperation that was rising in
the Slayer. He couldn’t allow her to lose it, not now. Not here, when
there were so many people around to hear her freak out. Being caught alone
with Tara’s body would just make an already terrible situation even worse.
"Calm down. Now. It’s not like you’ve never seen a dead body before. If I
remember correctly, you’ve already left a few in your wake."

"What? You can’t think that I... I had nothing to do with this," Faith
managed, her voice rising as her level of desperation did the same. She
turned fearful eyes on the vampire as she gripped his arms, knowing she had
to somehow make him believe her. "I... I didn’t, Angel. I swear it. I
told her to get the spell, then I left. I didn’t hurt her. I didn’t touch
her, I swear. I don’t know what did this to her. After I left her, I just
wandered around... then you came, and you made me come with you. And now
I’m here. I didn’t do this. You have to believe me. Please."

"I do believe you," Angel told her in a hard but convincing voice as he
disengaged her grip on his arms with enough force to knock the Slayer on her
butt. He hadn’t meant to push her away quite so hard, but his emotions were
running high, boiling near the surface. He was about to lose it himself,
the rage over what had been done to Willow and his concern for the small
redhead nearly overwhelming him. The only thing holding him back was the
fact that there was still much to be done. They still had to find the spell
and perform it. They still had to help Willow. Taking a few unnecessary
breaths that he knew would help him calm down, the ensouled vampire buried
his face in his hands for a moment, then lifted his gaze back to the stunned
Slayer. "I believe you," he repeated, a bit more calmly but with no less
force. "And I suggest that you keep your voice down. We don’t want anyone
to come in here and find us with Tara’s body."

"Then shouldn’t we get out of here?" Faith countered before she really
registered the first part of Angel’s statement. She’d been so shocked when
the vampire knocked her on her butt that she’d just about missed it. "Wait
a minute. Did you say that you believe me?"

"Yes, I did. And I do believe you."

"But why would you..." the Slayer trailed off, obviously confused.

"You know, it would be a lot easier to believe you if you acted a little
less shocked when people did," Angel told her before returning his gaze to
the fallen witch. "I could see it on your face. You were stunned when we
found her, Faith. You’re not a good enough actress to have faked that level
of shock. Plus, I could smell your fear when you figured out she was dead."

"I wasn’t afraid," the brunette retorted.

"I’ve been a vampire for over two centuries, Faith. I think I know what
fear smells like," Angel replied mildly. He studied Tara’s body for a
moment longer, then stepped inside the circle the witch had constructed. It
had been broken when she’d slumped over in death, and Angel knelt down
beside the body, looking at the spell she had apparently been casting.

"What are you doing?" Faith hissed at him. "We need to get out of here
before whoever did this comes back."

"Look at her, Slayer. There aren’t any marks on her. No one did this to
her; she did this to herself. Too much magick," Angel muttered as he picked
up the spellbook Tara had been using. He couldn’t believe someone had
allowed such a young witch to get her hands on such potent spells.

"Too much magick," Faith parroted, her voice holding an edge of panic once
more. "Did... was... was she trying to do the spell? Had she found the
spell I wanted? Was she trying to help Willow when this happened."

"I’m going with no on that one. This spell wasn’t for Willow. Or, at
least, I don’t think it was."

"Why not?"

"She wouldn’t have done a spell like this on Willow unless she hated her,"
Angel replied.

"Then that’s kind of a big no there. I’m pretty sure Tara had a crush on
Willow," Faith said with a sigh, wondering how Angel would take that little
bit of information.

"Then this must have been for you," Angel responded calmly as he stood up,
taking the book with him. "It’s a vengeance spell. It would have killed
you."

"What?" the brunette Slayer said dumbly, suddenly not so sorry that Tara had
died.

"You have Slayer hearing; I don’t think you really need me to repeat myself.
Either it was too much power, or she tried to back out, and it was too
late. Whatever it was, it killed her."

"So what now? I mean, I came here, ready to help. It’s not my fault she
tried to kill me," Faith said as she stood up.

"That’s debatable," Angel returned. The Slayer glared at him for that, but
he just held her gaze, sending out a rather nasty glare of his own. It was
Faith who broke the eye contact, blinking and turning her head.

"My point is... I tried to help..."

"You were forced to help."

"Hey, you didn’t force me to tell her to find a reversal spell."

"I also didn’t force you to get her to do the damn spell in the first place.
Willow’s in the hospital, Faith. And Graham and Riley and Forrest? Well,
they’re hurt, too. And the blame for that falls on you and Tara. Now, did
you have a point, or were you simply trying to make yourself feel better by
reminding us both that you came here earlier today to threaten Tara into
fixing the botched spell?"

"My point is... I’ve done what I can... So can I go now?"

"On the contrary, Slayer. You haven’t done a damn thing to fix your mess,
and no, you can’t go." He nodded towards Tara’s bookcase. "Get all of her
spellbooks, specifically the one that has the spell she used on Willow and
the guys. Well take those with us, and once we get far enough away, we’ll
call from a pay phone to report a dead body."

"And just where are we taking these spellbooks?"

"Back to Giles’s apartment. The others are there."

"What? No! I can’t-"

"You will. And don’t even think about running, Slayer, because I can catch
you. And right this second, I don’t think I have it in me to feel guilty
about killing you."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Well, you’re heart rate’s a little high, but I think we all know the cause
of that," the nurse said mildly, causing Willow to blush. The redhead sent
a glare in Graham’s direction, and he tried to hold back the laughed that
was threatening. The nurse noticed the exchange and glanced over at the
handsome young man, a small smile on her face. "Of course, I could take his
pulse, too, just so you’d be even," she told Willow.

Willow smiled back at the nurse, although the redhead was still mortified to
have been caught making out with Graham in her hospital bed just moments
before. The nurse had taken it rather well, simply clearing her throat and
announcing that it was time to take Willow’s vital signs. Graham, of
course, had responded that he had just finished doing so, and Willow seemed
to be doing just fine.

Hence the seemingly permanent blush that now graced the redhead’s features.

"Well, that’s everything," the nurse said as she finished taking Willow’s
blood pressure. She looked at the young couple, unable to resist grinning
at them. The girl seemed so embarrassed, and the guy still had a
mischievous smile on his face. "Now, I’d tell you two to behave yourselves,
but I really don’t think she’ll be letting you get near her again tonight,"
she told Graham. "But just in case, let me remind you: this is a public
building, and you never know when a doctor’s going to come in." The
redhead’s blush deepened at that comment, and the young man laughed.

"I’ll keep that in mind," he promised.

Graham watched as the nurse left the room, then turned his attention back to
Willow. "Well, that was... interesting."

"I can’t believe that just happened. I am so embarrassed," Willow muttered,
covering her face with her hands.

"It wasn’t that bad, Willow."

"And you! You made it worse with your ‘just checking her vital signs’
comment! I can’t believe you said that."

"I take it you’re not real big on PDA’s then. I’ll have to remember that."

"There’s a difference between a PDA and being caught making out with some
guy in your hospital bed," Willow stated witheringly.

"Yes, of course there is," Graham conceded as he walked back over to Willow,
retaking his earlier spot sitting on the edge of her bed. Reaching out, he
carefully took her hand.

"Graham..." Willow said warningly, even though she was suddenly hit with the
urge to smile. Who would have ever guessed that someone who looked so
strong and serious could have such a teasing, playful side.

"What? All I’m doing is holding your hand, right? Is doesn’t really even
qualify as a PDA, not really. You’ve probably held Xander’s hand... or even
Buffy’s, and never thought twice about it, right?" When Willow sighed in
defeat, Graham raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then
turned it over and kissed her palm. "And this... this is okay, too, right?
I mean... I’m not even kissing your lips. Yet."

Willow watched as Graham studied her hand, and her breath caught when he
raised her hand to his lips once more, kissing each of her knuckles in turn.
His eyes met hers over her hand, and they simply stared at each other for
a moment.

Willow really couldn’t believe what she was feeling. In the months since Oz
had left, she hadn’t dated anybody; she hadn’t even found herself being
attracted to anyone. And now... well, here she was with a guy she’d hardly
spent any time with, and she could already tell that she was falling for
him. Hard. It was strange. She knew, rationally, that they didn’t know
each other very well, but she felt differently. Maybe it was the dreams,
maybe she recognized something in him; she didn’t know what it was. All she
knew was that being with him felt very, very right.

Graham watched Willow carefully, and he knew that she was feeling much the
same way he was. He didn’t know what was happening between them - not the
spell, but the other things, the feelings that were coming out of nowhere -
but he knew he wanted it to keep happening. He wanted to explore what was
going on between them...

Slowly, without ever dropping her hand, Graham leaned in and pressed his
lips to Willow’s, catching her gasp in his mouth. He swept his tongue
between her parted lips, allowing it to dance with her own. He felt
Willow’s free hand gripping his shirt, trying to pull him closer, and he
obliged her, using his body to press her back against the pillows. After a
moment, however, the redhead changed her grip on his shirt and pushed him
back. Graham pulled away, taking gasping breaths as he gazed down in her
eyes, searching for a sign that he had somehow hurt her. Her eyes, though a
bit glazed, were free of pain.

Willow took a few breaths to steady herself, then spoke. "We shouldn’t
start anything we can’t finish. And we can’t finish this, at least not
right now. Not here," she told him, sending a pointedly glance at the open
door. "But... later...."

Graham nodded as she trailed off, knowing that she was right. As much as
they may want each other at the moment, this was not the time or the place.
It was, after all, much too soon, and they were in the hospital. With a
final kiss, he pulled away from her and got up off the bed, sitting in one
of the visitors’ chairs.

He never let go of her hand.

Part Fifteen

"I want to go home."

Graham turned his gaze from the television at Willow’s unexpected
declaration, and he raised his eyebrows at the redhead. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Willow told him.

"But, Willow, you’re hurt," Graham reminded her, gently squeezing the hand
that he hadn’t let go of in nearly an hour.

"I’m not even hooked up to any machines. I’ve got some stitches, some
bruises, and a broken hand," she reminded him. "Not exactly
life-threatening. And it’s so boring here."

"There are things we can do."

"Ooh, what? Watch the late, late movie? I mean, we can’t sleep because of
the dreams, and we can’t do anything else, because well, this is a hospital,
and I don’t particularly want to get caught in a compromising position with
you-"

"But it was so fun the first time."

"Graham," Willow said warningly, and he tried to look contrite. "I hate
this, okay? I hate feeling so damn useless. I want to help, whether it’s
research or whatever. I don’t want to sit here and feel helpless," she told
him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. And, because he did
understand, he relented, knowing he could watch over her whether she was in
the hospital or not. Plus, getting her out of this place would mean that
Faith wouldn’t know where the redhead was. That thought certainly appealed
to him.

"Okay."

"Of course, I could just sign myself out of here, and no one could stop
me... and did you just say okay?"

"Yeah. I guess you could say I understand how you feel. I’ll help get you
out. I’ll go see what I can do about getting you sprung from this place,
and you call and see if someone will come pick us up."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"What the hell is she doing here?" Buffy’s voice cracked like a whip
through the silence that had descended over the room upon Angel and Faith’s
appearance. Murder was clear in the blonde Slayer’s eyes, and Angel had to
drop the books he was carrying in order to grab Faith before she could head
out the door. The Slayer's load of books fell to the floor as well as Angel
spun her around to face him.

"You are not going anywhere!" the vampire hissed at the brunette before
turning to the blonde. "She’s here at... let’s just say my request, shall
we?"

"Some request. You threatened to hunt me down if I didn’t help."

"Just taking a wild guess here, but I’m assuming this is Faith," Forrest
said after a moment, studying the girl who had put him, Willow, Riley, and
Graham through hell.

"And you’re right about that. Give the man a prize," Xander replied, his
own gaze never leaving Faith’s form.

Once, he had liked Faith. He had considered her a friend. And not just any
friend, either. She was, of course, the ‘friend’ he had lost his virginity
to. But that didn’t mean he carried around fond memories of the girl. In
fact, he hated her. The brunette Slayer standing near the door had killed a
man, tried to blame it on Buffy, nearly strangled him, joined Mayor McDemon,
tried to steal Angel’s soul, tried to kill Buffy, held Willow at knife
point, and poisoned Angel. The Angel stuff wouldn’t have bothered Xander,
except for the small fact that Angel without his soul was a far worse thing
than Angel with his soul. Plus, Xander knew that Buffy had been torn apart
over the thought of watching Angel slowly succumbing to the poison in his
body. And now Faith had come after Willow... again. And not just Willow,
either. She’d included three guys she didn’t even know in her game this
time. So no, Xander didn’t like Faith anymore. The only feeling he had
left for his former lover was contempt.

"Why is it exactly that we need her help, Angel?" Xander asked, his hatred
for the brunette clear in his voice.

"Because Tara’s dead," the vampire replied quietly as he pulled Faith
farther into the room. She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp, them gave
up, seemingly resigning herself to being dragged around by Angel
indefinitely. As the vampire pulled her towards the couch, he looked back
over his shoulder at the books he and Faith had dropped, and Wesley got the
message and immediately began picking up the scattered spellbooks.

"What do you mean, she’s dead?" Xander sputtered in shock.

"I meant exactly what it sounded like. Tara is dead. As in, no longer
among the living," Angel snapped out, clearly not in the mood to get into a
long drawn out conversation. Of course, when was he ever in the mood for
one of those?

"Let me guess. Your work," Spike said contemptuously as he rose from his
seat to glare at the Slayer. He’d never met the chit, but he hated her on
sight. Actually, he’d hated her long before he’d ever seen her, simply on
the principle of the matter. She was, after all, a Slayer, and he was a
vampire. Plus, it was because of her actions that he had ended up spending
the day cooped up with, among others, two commandos
who probably still wanted him dead.

Faith turned her gaze to the bleached blonde glaring at her hatefully, and
she knew instantly that he was a vampire. Just who he was, she didn’t know.
Nor did she particularly care at the moment. She just wanted to get out
of the apartment without getting killed. Even so, that didn’t stop her from
trying to defend herself verbally. "I didn’t do it," she protested. "It
wasn’t my fault."

"Tara was trying a vengeance spell... probably on Faith. That’s what killed
her," Angel explained as he shoved the Slayer down on the couch. Buffy’s
blonde boyfriend, who was already seated on the couch, immediately got up
and went over to where Buffy was standing, clearly not wanting to get too
close to the brunette. Angel couldn’t say that he blamed him for it.
"However," he continued as Faith tried to get back up and he pushed her back
down, sending her a warning growl, "Faith’s little scheme is what triggered
these events, so I’m not going to agree with the ‘it wasn’t my fault’
statement."

"Why did you bring her here?" Cordelia asked, frowning at her boss.

"Because," Angel replied in a slightly mocking voice as he knelt down in
front of the Slayer, actually speaking to her rather than to the room at
large, "Faith here has always been so damn good at making messes, I figured
it was time she learned out to clean them up." He turned to Wesley, who had
gathered all of the books and stacked them on Giles’s desk. Both former
Watchers were currently going through the books, and the vampire had to
clear his throat in order to get their attention. When they shifted their
gazes to look at him, he spoke again. "Faith can show you the spell that
was used. I’m not sure, but it may have been the same spell that you found
earlier today."

"But that was only-"

"One way and to one person. I know. So was the spell that Faith wanted
Tara to do."

Quickly, Forrest moved over to where they had put the book that held their
one lead and opened it to the spell. Moving over to where the Slayer sat
silently, he thrust the book at her, and she looked up at him in surprise.
"Is this it?" he asked in a gruff voice. "Is this the spell you wanted
cast?"

Her brow furrowed, the young woman looked down at the spell, reading it
silently. After a moment, she sat back, staring at her feet.

"Well?" Forrest prompted.

"It’s the one," Faith said quietly.

"And does anyone have a clue as to how we go about reversing this little
spell?" Forrest asked. He glanced around the room.

"Even though that is the spell Faith wanted, the spell that ended up getting
cast was actually a bastardized form of it. It wasn’t really that spell,"
Anya said, taking the book from Forrest in order to get a better look at the
spell.

"But even so, wouldn’t the elements have been at least similar?" Buffy
asked.

"The pictures," Xander said suddenly. "Oh, man, the pictures."

"What are you talking about?" Riley questioned, confused.

"The pictures I saw in Tara’s room. It’s how I knew she was involved.
They... they had this gunk on them."

"The potion used in the spell," Faith said. "She had to have a picture of
the people I wanted to connect. I couldn’t find a picture of only the guy I
wanted, so I had to use one of all three of them."

"Why us, though? And which one of us did you really want anyway?" Forrest
asked.

"Him," she replied, pointing at Riley.

"Why me?" Riley asked, his stomach turning at the confirmation that it had
been him - and only him - that this woman had picked in a deliberate attempt
to hurt Willow.

"I knew you were hurt. So I picked you. Couldn’t find a picture of just
you, though, so..." she trailed off with a shrug, looking down because she
knew that all eyes were currently on her, filled with contempt.

"Where are they?"

"What do you mean?" the Slayer asked, her head coming up so that she met
Angel’s eyes. His gaze burned into hers, and she nearly flinched at the
intensity.

"Where are the damn pictures? What did Tara do with them?"

"I... She threw them away, I think. When I went back to tell her things had
gone wrong, I think she pulled them out of the trash."

"When I saw them, one of them was on her bed, and the other one was near the
trash can. I don’t know what she did with them after I left, though,"
Xander said quietly. "We need them, don’t we?"

"Most likely."

"More like definitely," Anya corrected the vampire. She had been studying
the spell while the conversation went on around her, and her brow was
furrowed in concentration. Sighing, she set the book down and looked at the
others. "I... I think I might be able to reverse this. I mean, I’m pretty
sure I’ve figured out where Tara went wrong. The spell’s in Latin, but I
can actually read that..."

"And?" Buffy prompted.

"I think she may have changed some verb tenses. That, and getting the
potion of all of the guys’ picture instead of just Riley’s could’ve done
this. I mean, I think it could have."

"You think it could have, or you know it?" Buffy asked, her voice slightly
desperate. She knew Anya was only trying to help, but the thought of a game
of hit and miss with trying to reverse the spell didn’t appeal to her.

"Look, Buffy, I’m sorry, but I can’t be certain. It’s been a long time
since I’ve actually gone around casting spells. All I had to do for a
millennium was say ‘granted,’ and my work was done. I’m trying the best I
can."

"A millennium?" Riley repeated. "I’m lost here."

"It’s a long story," Xander replied, not really wanting to get into an
explanation about his girlfriend’s ex-demon status.

"I’d assume so," Forrest said quietly. "And I’m all for hearing it. Later.
Right now, I just want to know if Anya’s spell idea could work." He
turned to Giles, who had crossed over to the young woman’s side and was now
listening to her quiet explanation of what she wanted to do. "Well?"

"I, um, well, I think it’s worth trying. There are things we have to get,
though."

"Meaning the pictures," Angel said.

"Among other things," the former Watcher replied, removing his glasses and
cleaning them. "There are ingredients that we will need, including more
pictures."

"Okay then," Cordelia said. "Give me a list of what we need, and I’ll go
get it while the rest of you go hunt up some pictures."

"You’re not going out there alone," Angel told her. "And I can’t go with
you. Someone needs to stay here with Faith."

"I’ll go with the cheerleader," Spike said. "I can still fight demons."

"Cordy, is that okay with you?" Angel asked.

"I’ll deal with it."

"And I’ll go to Tara’s for the original pictures," Buffy announced.

"The cops," Angel said suddenly.

"What?"

"We called the cops to report a body. Odds are, they’ll still be there."

"Then I’ll just have to wait for them to leave. Besides, if there isn’t a
gaping wound of some sort on Tara, they’ll probably figure she OD’d or
something, which means they won’t stay there forever. I’ll get the
pictures. Xander can go get some of Wills, and Riley and Forrest can go get
some of themselves and Graham while Anya, Giles and Wesley translate the
spell or whatever."

"The ingredients we need... some of them are kind of rare, and not all
stores will have them," Anya said as she scribbled a two lists. "It would
save time to send two groups out to get the ingredients. We can each take a
few stores. Once we have the ingredients, them we can worry about the
actual spell."

"Fine," the blonde Slayer said. She opened her mouth to say something else,
but she was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

"Bloody hell," Giles muttered as he went to answer it. "What now?"

Part Sixteen

Willow sat ensconced on Giles’s couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she
leaned against Angel, her head resting on his shoulder. The vampire’s arm
was wrapped loosely around her, carefully holding her against his side as
the pair looked over the spell Anya was planning to do. The spell wasn’t
translated, but both Willow and Angel had pretty fair Latin skills, so they
were doing a nice job of figuring out just what Anya had planned, although
one part of the spell was still a bit vague. Faith, on the other hand, sat
on the floor a few feet away from the couch. The brunette’s arms and legs
were wrapped in the chains that Giles had had lying around from when Spike
had been a semi-permanent occupant of the former Watcher’s bathtub. It had
been decided that chaining Faith up would be the easiest way to keep the
Slayer in one place, especially since Angel didn’t want to leave Willow
alone in the apartment if the Slayer tried to make a break for it.

The others were all gone, off on a mission of one kind or another, each
mission having something to do with the spell they were planning to do.
Even though Graham had spent some time with Angel that day, and he knew all
about the soul thing, it had still taken a little while to convince Graham
to leave Willow under the watchful eye of the ensouled vampire - mostly
because Faith, the instigator in all of these events, was in the apartment
as well - but he had conceded in the end, mainly because it was obvious that
the redhead trusted Angel to protect her. So, even though he hated leaving
her - even for a minute - Graham had gone with the others. Well, actually,
he had gone with Xander.

They had chosen to go for the ‘safety in numbers’ theory, not wanting anyone
to go off alone this late at night. Not even Buffy was by herself. There
were demons and vampires out and about, as well as the occasional human
creep, and Giles, who was admittedly the unchallenged father figure of the
group, hadn’t liked the idea of someone coming up against one of the things
that go bump in the night all by themselves. So, no matter how simple the
mission, two people were on it.

Xander and Graham had gone to Xander’s house in search of pictures of Willow
that could be used for the spell, then they were going to swing by a magick
shop on the way back to Giles’s apartment. Willow and Anya were both fairly
certain that one of the more rare ingredients for the spell could be found
at this particular shop, and the guys weren’t about to question their
judgment. Therefore, they were going.

Forrest and Wesley were assigned the duty of retrieving pictures of Riley,
Forrest, and Graham. In order to prevent a repeat of what had happened
before - the spell getting screwed up - each picture had to be of the guy
alone, so Forrest had basically resigned himself to taking a pair of
scissors to a few of his photographs. He figured it was definitely for a
good cause.

Cordelia and Spike made up the third group, a fact that made the former
cheerleader a little nervous. She knew that Spike had been de-fanged, and
she believed what the others had told her, but still... this was Spike. He
was the same vampire who had tried to kill Buffy on numerous occasions,
kidnapped Willow and Xander, and paid some vampire to torture Angel for the
better part of a day. And the really scary part was, he could still pay
someone to do his crimes. He just hadn’t yet. And now, she had to rely on
the blonde vampire to keep her safe on their trip to three different magick
shops. Oh, yeah. This was fun. Right up there with getting teeth pulled
on the list of things she loved doing.

The fourth group was made up of Anya and Giles, an odd combination, but it
worked. Like Spike and Cordy, they were going to various magick shops,
though their list contained only two stores rather than three. Their third
destination was Willow’s house - the redhead had given Giles her key - where
they were going to pick up an ingredients that Willow knew she had. Then,
it was back to the apartment to prepare for the spell.

The final group was perhaps the one with the most dangerous mission. It
wasn’t physically dangerous or anything, but there was always the chance
that the cops would catch Buffy or Riley in Tara’s room rifling through the
dead witch’s things. They were going in search of the pictures Tara had
used in the original spell, then they were going to hightail it back to
where Willow, Faith, and Angel waited.

"You know, you really didn’t have to do this," Faith muttered, lifting her
chained hands.

Willow, still a bit unnerved by the presence of the brunette Slayer but
trying not to show it, shifted slightly in Angel’s arms, looking over at the
other girl and glaring. "You’re right. We could have just held a knife to
your throat like you did mine last year. I bet that would have kept you
here just as well as the chains have."

Returning the redhead’s glare, Faith dropped her hands. "This isn’t fair."

"Well, at the risk of sounding like my parents, life isn’t fair," Willow
replied as she moved away from Angel. The vampire watched her with concern,
but he allowed her to move off the couch so that she was sitting just a few
feet away from the bound Slayer, a fact that unsettled the vampire. He knew
the chains that had been used on Faith would good and strong, but that
didn’t mean that the Slayer wasn’t going to try anything, so Angel edged
closer, prepared get Willow out of the way if Faith tried to strike.

"At least you have parents," the brunette said to the redhead.

"Oh, that’s your retort? Good one. I’m feeling so much more forgiving
about what you did to me now. Maybe I’ll even unchain you, then we can run
off and become the bestest of friends," Willow stated, sarcasm dripping from
her usually sweet and sunny voice.

"This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!"

"Meaning what, Faith?" Willow asked, edging ever-closer to the brunette
woman. "You weren’t supposed to get caught? Is that it? Or is it that you
weren’t supposed to end up in chains? Well, at least, not without proper
compensation," the redhead added with a smirk.

"Why you... I don’t... I would never..." Faith sputtered, too angry to
actually complete a thought.

"Oh, right. You’re not a whore in the real sense of the word. I mean, you
don’t get paid for your... services. You just give it away."

Faith lunged at the redhead then, but Willow simply sat back on her heels
out of the other girl’s reach. Angel growled slightly, wanting to pull the
redhead back up onto the couch and make her stay there until the others got
back, but Willow simply turned to him and shook her head, smiling gently.
That’s when he realized that Willow was trying to get a reaction out of
Faith, that there was something the redhead wanted to do. He just wasn’t
sure what it was. Settling back slightly, he decided to wait and see.

"Why are you attacking me this way?" Faith cried, and the redheaded witch
that sat just a few feet away merely shrugged. "Damn it, why are you doing
this?"

"Just my way, I guess. You attack with violence. I use words. As you can
see, my way can be pretty effective."

"I hate you."

"And I hate you. So I guess, in that way at least, we’re equal."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"This one should work."

Graham eyed the picture that Xander held out to him. It was at a dance of
some sort, and Willow looked beautiful. "When’s that from?"

"The prom."

Figured. "Are you sure you want to use that one? I mean, it’s going to get
destroyed. Don’t you have a picture-"

"Where Wills looks less gorgeous? Probably. Somewhere. But Buffy has a
picture that’s almost an exact copy of this. I’ll just have her make a
reprint of it for me."

"Oh. Good idea."

"What is it between you and Willow anyway?"

"Excuse me?"

"I think you heard me. Look, I know something is up between you two. I’ve
seen the way you look at her," Xander said as he tucked to photograph of
Willow into his pocket and put away his photo album.

"Well, I-"

"Hey, get that ‘deer in the headlights’ look of your face. I don’t blame
you or anything, okay? Willow is extremely lovable. I know you care about
her. It’s a pretty easy thing to do. A lot of people love Willow, myself
included."

"I do care about her... but love? I’ve only known her for about a day."

"I’ve seen you, man," Xander reminded him as he began to head up the stairs
that led from the basement to the main part of the house. "I mean, this
morning, even before you’d met her, you were all protecto guy when to came
to Wills. Maybe it started because of the dreams. Maybe something you saw
in those dreams triggered whatever is going on between you two."

"But Riley and Forrest-"

"Aren’t acting any differently? That’s true. Which means it’s more than
that. Look, Graham, whatever is going on between you and Wills... it’s not
a side effect of the dreams, I know that. But maybe... maybe you saw
something in those dreams, and it really made you look and see... well,
Willow. The real Willow, before you even met her." Xander paused in his
speaking as he opened the front door, then turned back to Graham. "Not
everyone looks hard enough to see the real Willow. They just see a quiet
redhead. They don’t see how amazing she really is."

"I see it," Graham told him as he followed him outside.

"I know you do. It would take most people months to learn as much as you
already know about Willow. That could be why things are moving so fast
between the two of you."

"What are you trying to say, Xander? There’s got to be more to it than just
an explanation of why Willow and I seemed to have had an instant
connection."

Xander shrugged. "I guess I’m just trying to say... I recognize that
there’s something... special happening here. With you and Willow. And I’m
not going to try to stop it. But, I need you to realize that I love Willow,
and I don’t want to see her get hurt. I’m seen it before... She used to
date a guy named Oz. A few months ago, he cheated on her, then left without
even attempting to work it out."

"That bastard."

"My sentiments exactly. Anyway, I’m not sure which hurt Willow worse, the
cheating, or the leaving, but it just about destroyed her. I’ve never seen
her hurting so bad, so torn up inside, and I never want to see her like that
again."

Graham was quiet for a moment, taking in what Xander said. When he did
speak a few moments later, his voice was soft, but his words carried force
and a conviction that Xander couldn’t question. "I don’t cheat. I have
never cheated on a woman before, and I won’t start now. And I don’t want to
hurt her. I can’t promise that I will never make her cry, but I would never
just walk out on her. I’m not this Oz guy, Xander."

"Good to know. Because, if you treated her like Oz did, I’d have to kill
you. And since I actually like you, I’d really hate to have to do that."

"I’ll keep that in mind."

Part Seventeen

"Okay. We’ve established that we hate each other. Now what?" the brunette
Slayer inquired snidely.

"Now I ask why. You got a reason for hating me so damn much?"

"And what about you? You hate me, too. What’s your reason?"

"You really want to know? You got a few hours? Oh, wait, that’s right, you
do," the redhead said, answering her own question as she eyed the chains
that kept Faith fairly immobile. Willow could sense Angel’s presence
directly behind her, and she knew the vampire was prepared to take control
if things got out of hand. "It’s a good thing your schedule’s so flexible,
too. I mean, otherwise, you wouldn’t have the time to hear my list of
grievances. I have a whole buttload of them."

"Well good for you," Faith replied.

"But, you see, I imagine you can figure out my reasons. They're pretty
straightforward, and I bet they're fairly obvious," Willow said, leaning in
closer to the woman in front of her. "But I’m not too clear on your
reasons. And you know me, Faith, always searching for answers. It’s a
curse. Why do you hate me?"

Faith glared at her for a moment, then shrugged as best she could with her
restraints. "You hurt me."

"When?" Willow’s voice cracked like a whip, and the Slayer avoided her eyes
for a moment, then finally looked at her, saying nothing. After a moment,
it dawned on the redhead what Faith was getting at, and she replayed the
short conversation in her mind.

The redhead could clearly remember the confrontation between herself and the
Slayer in the mayor’s office a year before, and Faith’s assumption that
Willow was going to ask her to leave to mayor and come back to the Scooby
Gang. She’d obviously thought that Willow was going to tell her that it
wasn’t too late to come back - she’d actually said as much - and the redhead
remembered quite distinctly the stunned look on the Slayer’s face when she
had told the other girl it was definitely too late, then laid into Faith,
telling her just what she thought of her. If Willow remembered it
correctly, there was something to do with a ‘waste of space’ somewhere in
her personal tirade, then Faith had punched her, knocking her to the ground
and saying ‘you hurt me, I hurt you.’

"That’s it, isn't it? That’s your excuse for all of this. That little
scene in the mayor’s office. Well guess what. You deserved everything I
said that night and more. You’d already blown it, Faith. You’d had friends
that actually gave a damn about you, and you betrayed us. We were there for
you - all of us were, but Buffy was especially - and you completely screwed
us over! Correct me if I’m wrong, but by the time that little scene
happened between us, you’d already killed a man, tried to strangle Xander,
chained Buffy up, and tried to steal Angel’s soul. Not to mention the fact
that I was being held hostage at the mayor’s office at the time of our
fight." Willow paused then, her breath coming more quickly due to her
anger. Shifting slightly, she winced at the pain the movement caused in her
side, which reminded her of exactly what the wayward Slayer in front of her
had done this time. "Then you tried to kill Angel, and had a huge fight
with Buffy. You were pretty quiet after that, but hey, a coma will do that
do a person. But then you woke up... and now this," Willow said, gesturing
to her various wounds before continuing. "I have bruises, and a broken
hand, and I’m probably scarred for life because of this hole in my side.
And for what? Payback for a few words I said a year ago? I don't buy that.
Come on, Faith, what did I do to deserve this?"

"It wasn’t supposed to be like this!"

"We weren’t supposed to catch you? I was supposed to die? Look, Slayer,
you’ve got to help me here, because ‘it wasn’t supposed to be like this’
really isn’t helping."

"The spell got screwed up."

"So I’ve been told," the redhead conceded, glancing back at Angel, who was
watching what was going on intently. He and Cordelia had told her earlier
that Faith had ordered the spell, and when Giles had come to pick her and
Graham up from the hospital earlier, he had explained the mistake that had
been committed in casting the spell. But, in reality, the fact that the
spell had been screwed up didn’t change the fact that
someone had wanted the spell cast in the first place. "But you still told
Tara to do the spell, Faith. You wanted me hurt. And for what? A few
words spoken during an argument? I don’t think so. Why, Faith? Why did
you do this to me? Why do you hate me so damn much?"

"Why the hell should I tell you?" the Slayer yelled back. "Why should I
tell you anything? It’s not like it matters; they’re going to fix it
anyway. They’d do anything for you. They always have; they always will.
It’s like Angel said. They all love you. Everyone just loves Willow."

Willow sat back in shock, her eyes widening. This was not what she had
expected, but here it was. The truth. And it was all so simple.

"You’re jealous."

"Yeah, so?" the Slayer snarled, clearly annoyed with herself.

"You’re jealous. Of me."

"You don’t have to sound so damn surprised, you know."

"But I am. Because, you see, I still don’t get it," Willow said, her voice
much quieter and a great deal calmer than it had been. "I’ve nothing for
you to be jealous of. I’m just me. Sure, I have great friends, I’ll give
you that. But you could have had them, too. You just chose to betray us.
So that was your fault. But the rest? I just don’t see it."

"You have everything."

"Oh, I do? Let’s see... my best friend Jesse? Nope, sorry, he was killed
by vamps nearly four years ago. And Jenny? She’s dead, too. My parents?
Well, I’m not sure they even know I’m out of high school yet, and let’s not
forget that my mother once tried to burn me at the stake. Then there’s
Tara. She betrayed me, and now she’s dead because of a backlash of magick
energies. Yeah, my life is perfect. And what about my other friends,
you’re wondering? Well, we already covered that. Everyone that's trying to
help fix this mess I'm in... yhey could have been your friends, too, but you
lost them through your own actions. And that leaves Oz... and well, Oz has
left. Of course, he didn’t leave until after he had cheated on me with
another werewolf and the bitch had tried to kill me, but hey, he’s still
gone. So what does that leave, Faith? My academic prowess? I actually
work for that. My witchcraft. Well, the way I see it is this: you’ve got
Slayer skills, and I can float a pencil. I’m really not seeing where the
jealousy gene should kick in. Do you?"

She looked at Faith then, almost daring the other girl to say something,
then looked down at her hands, one of which was in a cast thanks to the
antics of the woman in front of her. Willow felt Angel’s hand come to rest
on her shoulder, and she leaned back against the vampire before continuing.

"So, as you can see, things aren’t perfect for me. Nothing to be jealous of
here. You look at me, and you think ‘damn, her life’s perfect. She seems
so happy,’ but you don’t really see anything. You don’t get it. Looking
happy, seeming happy... it isn’t being happy. I hurt, I have pain in my
life. There are times that I wish I could be anyone but me. There are
times when I get jealous of the people around me, people who seem so happy.
But I don’t go around trying to ruin it for them, and I do my damnedest not
to self-destruct. And when I make mistakes, I try to own up to them. I try
to fix things. I guess that’s the difference between you and me, huh,
Faith? I don’t attack the people I’m jealous of, and I answer for what I
do. Who knows," she should as she lifted her good hand to wipe at the tears
in her eyes, "maybe that is something to be jealous of. Of course, you
could choose to do that, too. You just never have. But that doesn’t mean
you can’t start to. What’ll it be this time, Faith?"

With that, the redhead stood painfully, then left the room, tired of talking
and wondering if Faith truly was beyond saving. After a moment, Angel stood
and followed Willow, knowing she was tired and sore and wanting to do
whatever he could to make her comfortable.

And once she was sure they had left the room, Faith hung her head and began
to cry.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"How about this one?" Wesley asked, holding a picture out to Forrest. "It
doesn’t look like something anyone would miss."

"And that, my friend, is completely not true," the other man said as he
glanced at the picture Wesley held in his hand. "I would most definitely
miss this picture, seeing as I have held onto it to use as blackmail since
freshman year. Anytime Riley starts to tell an embarrassing story about me,
I threaten to pull this pic out, and boom... he shuts up. Anyway, I’ve
already found some to use," he continued, holding up some hastily trimmed
photographs. He’d made sure to cut out any and all people in the background
so that each picture was of only one of the guys. Hopefully, this
precaution would keep anything weird from happening with this spell.

"Oh. Very well, then. Are we ready?"

"Yeah. This is it, right? Now we go back to the apartment and wait for the
others?"

"Yes."

"Good. Mission accomplished then. Let’s just hope the others have it as
easy as we did."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"You okay, pet?" Spike asked as he reached down a hand to help Cordelia up.
The shaken secretary accepted the vampire’s help, then looked down at the
two piles of dust that were now on the sidewalk.

"You saved my life," she said, her voice more than a bit stunned.

"Yeah, well, Peaches would have staked me in a heartbeat if I’d just let
those wankers kill you. Besides that, you’re a lot more fun to have around
then that blasted Slayer is," Spike replied, shrugging off his actions. The
vampires had been easy kills for him - they had only been fledglings - and
they hadn’t even had the sense to realize that Spike was a vampire, let
alone the master vampire William the Bloody. "Can I really use that
statement - ‘staked me in a heartbeat’ - if neither of us have heartbeats?"

"Well, since you just kept me from becoming dinner for the undead, you can
say whatever you want."

"I’ll have to keep that in mind. Come on, now, love. We’ve still got
another store to go to before we can head back to the Watcher’s and help the
little witch," he said as he started off down the sidewalk.

Cordelia followed.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Wow. Willow has some really great stuff. And this is just her home stash.
I’d love to see what she keeps at the dorm," Anya said as she went through
the redhead’s witchcraft supplies. Giles stood behind her, a bit frustrated
with the young woman in front of him. She seemed more interested in
checking out what Willow had then getting what they needed and going back to
help the redhead.

"Well, I’m sure if you asked, Willow would let you look through everything
la-"

"Ooh, look at this," the former demon interrupted, holding up an herb that
Giles couldn’t readily identify. "If mixed with a few other ingredients,
this is supposed to really enhance sexual pleasure."

"But do we need it for the spell we'll be casting?" the former Watcher
asked, seriously doubting that the answer would be of the affirmative.

"What spell? Oh, that spell. Uh, no."

"Then why don’t you get the ingredients that we will be needing?"

"Okay, okay," the girl replied a bit sulkily as she rummaged through the
chest and pulled out a few items. "Got them."

"Good. Then let’s go," Giles replied as he shut the heavy lid of the chest
and gestured for Anya to stand. The former Watcher started towards the
doorway, but stopped when he realized that the young woman wasn’t following
him, instead standing and looking at the trunk wistfully.

"Do you think Willow would mind if I took some of the-"

"Anya! We are leaving. Now."

"Fine..."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Just out of curiosity... do you search the rooms of dead people often?"
Riley asked his girlfriend as she knelt on the floor and began going through
Tara’s trash.

"Only when necessary," Buffy replied as she discarded several wadded up
pieces of paper that looked to be the start of research papers of some kind.
In order to avoid leaving fingerprints - just in case someone spotted them
entering or leaving the place and reported a burglary - she and Riley were
both wearing gloves, so the Slayer wasn’t exactly being careful about what
she touched. "And face it, this falls into the category 'necessary'."

"I totally agree with that... And I think I just found what we came here
for," Riley said, as he straightened out two crumpled up pictures. One was
of him, Graham, and Forrest, and it was from a newspaper; the other was an
actual photograph of Willow. Both were covered with goop of some kind.
Smiling slightly, he held them up to show Buffy. "Bingo."

"Good. Now let’s get out of here."

Part Eighteen

"You okay?"

Willow glanced at the door as Graham entered the room she was in, which just
happened to be Giles’s bedroom. "I didn’t know you were back yet," she
said, knowing that it wasn’t the most intelligent comment in the world, but
not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, um, well, Xander and I just got back a few minutes ago. We’re the
first ones back. We got a picture of you, and we got the ingredient from
that one store," he told her, then paused to see if she would respond. When
it became apparent that she wasn’t going to, he crossed the room and came to
stand next to the redhead. She was standing silently in front of Giles’s
window, gazing out into the night, but Graham couldn’t tell if she was
actually looking at something specific, or if she was simply staring off
into space. After a moment, he cleared his throat discreetly and spoke once
again. "Anyway, Angel told us you were back here, so I thought I’d come
back and see how you’re doing." Again, Graham paused, waiting for a comment
or simply an acknowledgment of some kind, and when he realized that none
were forthcoming, he suddenly became unsure of himself. "Uh, you don’t mind
that I came in here, do you?"

"Mind? No, no I don’t mind at all," Willow finally replied, looking down at
her feet for a moment before returning her gaze to the street outside.

Graham, still not sure just what the hell was going on, stood quietly for a
moment, unsettled and more than a bit confused by the redhead’s distant
behavior. She certainly hadn’t been acting this way earlier. What had
happened while he and Xander were gone? Sighing, Graham looked down at his
feet for a second, nearly mirroring Willow’s action of just moments before,
then turned to gaze at the redheaded witch’s profile. And it was then that
he realized something he’d missed when he first walked in. "You’ve been
crying."

Willow released a hollow laugh at the comment, then turned her head to look
at him. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you have to remember, I did spend the better part of the day staring
at your face," Graham reminded her, getting a small laugh - a real one this
time - out of the slender young redhead beside him. "I was bound to notice
any changes."

"Staring at me all day," Willow mused quietly, once more looking out the
window, but now with a small smile on her face. "You poor guy. You’ve
probably seen enough of me to last you a lifetime."

"Not nearly enough," he told her seriously, all signs of teasing or laughter
gone from his voice. At the change in his tone, Willow turned to look at
him, her smile gone and surprise in its place. After a moment, however, the
surprise faded, and her smile returned, lighting up her lovely face.
Smiling slightly himself, Graham reached out to touch her face, gently
trailing his fingers down her cheek, but his smile faded as he once more
found himself focusing on the remnants of tear tracks that were still on her
pale face. "What happened while I was gone?" he asked gently. "Was it
Faith? Did she get to you in some way... Did she say something or do
something?"

"We kind of got to each other, actually," Willow replied as she used her
good hand to rub vigorously at her cheeks, trying to rid herself of all
signs of her crying jag once and for all.

"Meaning?" Graham prompted when it didn’t seem that Willow was going to
continue.

"Meaning we kind of bitched at each other for awhile. Or, more accurately,
I bitched at her for awhile. She didn’t get all that much in edgewise," the
redhead admitted.

"Well, I imagine that she deserved it."

"Oh, that she did," Willow concurred, nodding her head. "Anyway, after I’d
gotten everything off my chest so to speak, I left the living room and came
in here. I... I just really couldn’t stand even the thought of being in the
same room with her right then. I had to get away from there."

"So you came in here, alone," Graham said, not happy with the idea that she
had been left by herself when she had to have been extremely upset. He’d
probably be upset after a confrontation with Faith, and he didn’t have
anywhere near the history with the girl that Willow had.

"No, not alone," Willow corrected him. "Angel followed me in here," she
told him, thinking about the ensouled vampire.

Just moments after she had left the living room for the solace of Giles’s
bedroom, Angel had found her in the room, obviously not at all surprised to
discover that the redhead was in tears. Instead of trying to get her to
stop crying, the vampire had simply sat down on the bed, pulled Willow into
his lap, and then proceeded to hold her until she had stopped crying. He
never said a word the entire time; he had just rocked her back and forth,
rubbing her back in a soothing gesture until she was calm once more. Then,
after assuring himself that she was all right, or, at least, that she would
be all right, he had left her, somehow knowing without words that what she
needed most at that moment was to be left alone for awhile. It was odd,
really; during Angel’s time in Sunnydale, Willow had never exactly been what
could be considered close to the ensouled vampire, but now she discovered
that she felt incredibly comfortable in his company. She didn’t know why
she felt that way, but she was glad for it. She’d always felt a desire to
befriend the lonely vampire, and now she felt that it was actually a
possibility. Of course, he’d just be leaving again, heading back to Los
Angeles, as soon as this whole thing was over. Maybe she could teach him
the finer points of e-mail, though, so they could keep in touch. Cordelia
had already learned, so no one was a lost cause... except maybe Giles. He
still would have nothing to do with computers.

"But what about Faith?" Graham asked, bringing Willow’s thoughts back to the
present and causing her to focus once more on the man beside her. "I mean,
while Angel was in here with you... that left her completely alone in the
living. Couldn’t she have tried to escape or something?"

"She could have," the redhead conceded, nodding her head. "But I really
don’t think she would have gotten very far. I mean, you probably saw her
out there when you came in. She’s a little tied up at the moment."

"Chained up is actually the more accurate term," Graham said with a smile.

"True enough," Willow agreed, smiling slightly. "She wasn’t exactly happy
about it, either. I can’t imagine why. I always thought bondage would be
right up her alley, you know?"

"Willow..."

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence. Graham was thrilled to see that she
was getting some of her spunk back.

"Nothing," he replied, deciding to cut off his chastisement of her in lieu
of asking her something that had been bothering him. "But, um just out of
curiosity, those chains that were used on Faith... where exactly did they
come from?"

Willow smirked then as she pondered what Graham’s reaction could possibly be
if she made some comment about Giles having a kinky sex life, but thought
better of it at the last minute, deciding it would be simpler - and would
bring up far fewer questions - if she just went with the truth. "We used to
use them on Spike."

"Spike? As in, the neutered vampire."

"That would be the guy."

"Okay... um, can I just ask one question? Why?"

"Why what? Why did we use them on him?" At Graham’s nod, she shrugged,
then continued. "Well, I guess it was mostly the whole ‘we know he can’t
hurt us anymore, but we still don’t trust him’ thing. ‘Cause, you know,
when you think about it, Spike’s really done a lot of nasty stuff to me and
my friends."

"I know," Graham replied soberly. "I saw what he did to you in your dorm
room."

"That? Gosh, for Spike, that was really pretty minor. He’s done far worse
things than that in the past. He’s even hired people to do far worse things
than that in the past. So, as you can guess, we didn’t exactly trust him to
have free run of the place when he first came to us for help, which meant he
had to be tied to a chair, or chained to the bathtub, or whatever happened
to work at that particular time."

"And now you’ve basically set him free, which I don’t understand. Okay,
yeah, he’s harmless. I get that much. But he’s hired people to go after
you guys in the past, you said that yourself. What’s to stop him from doing
something like that now?"

"Nothing really. But he won’t do anything. You see, Spike’s really a very
intelligent demon. He knows that without the help of me and my friends he’s
completely screwed. Right now, other demons are pissed off at him because
he’s helped us, so, if he messes with us, he’s totally on his own, and he
knows it. There would be nowhere safe for him to go. He’d have absolutely
no protection whatsoever. Not from the demons who are mad at him; not from
the Initiative."

"So, because he needs you guys right now, you’re safe."

"Something like that," the redheaded witch conceded.

"And if for some reason the implant malfunctions, and he gets his bite
back?"

"Well, then we’d have to deal with it, I guess. And we’d be really ticked
off at the Initiative for sticking faulty equipment in the heads of the
creatures they capture. Besides, if the day does come when Spike no longer
has a chip in his head, I’m not really sure what would happen. We may not
have to do anything to him at all."

"Why not?"

"Well, don’t say this to Spike’s face, ‘cause he’ll just get pissed off and
deny it, but I think my friends and I have really grown on him. I won’t go
so far as to say he actually *likes* us - especially Buffy; I’m pretty sure
he still hates her - but I don’t know how homicidal he’d be around the rest
of us anymore."

"That’s certainly reassuring," Graham deadpanned, and Willow laughed in
response.

"I know. Maybe I put that badly. It’s just... I don’t entirely see Spike
as an enemy anymore. I know he’s a total bad ass soulless demon and all
that, but I’m not scared of him anymore, and I really don’t think he’s
interested in killing me and mine anymore. We’re not just food anymore, and
even enemies. We’re people, you know?"

"And your theory is that it’s harder to eat someone you know?"

"Not exactly. You can know someone, at least casually, and still not think
of them as a real person. Spike sees us as real people now."

"And maybe he’s starting to care."

"I wouldn’t go so far as to say that," Willow admitted.

"But maybe I would," Graham replied, causing Willow to turn to him, her
eyebrows raised in surprise. "It’s hard to believe, I know. But what
you’ve been saying... It just kind of made me think. Look at Spike.
Soulless demon? Oh, yeah, that’s for sure. But he’s still helping out with
this whole spell thing, remember. He could’ve just ditched us, or just sat
on his ass and done nothing, but instead he helped with the research and
went off with Cordelia to get ingredients for the spell."

"What exactly are you saying, Graham?"

"I guess what I’m saying is this... I don’t trust Spike, and I still pretty
much think he’s a bastard when all is said and done. But, if being around
you and yours, and if I’m lucky, actually being with you, means I have to
put up with him, then I’m willing to do so."

"Being with me, huh? I guess this means you’re thinking about a possible
future for us."

"I guess you could say that. If you want one."

Willow opened her mouth to answer, but shut it quickly when someone else
entered the room. Both Graham and the redhead turned then, surprised to
find a rather uncertain-looking Angel standing in the doorway. "Look, I
really hate to interrupt, but..."

"No interruption. Graham was just asking me a question," Willow replied
before turning back to Graham and saying, "The answer’s yes, by the way."
Then, Graham could say anything to that, she turned back to the vampire.
"So, um, what’s up?"

"The others are back. It’s time to do the spell."

Part Nineteen

Faith, still in chains, was very subdued when Willow, Graham, and Angel made
their way back into the living room of the apartment, and Willow paused for
a moment in order to study the brunette. Her head was down as she sat
silently on the floor, but Willow could still see what looked suspiciously
like tears on the other girl’s face.

As she grew aware that she was being watched - the others had all but
ignored her since returning - Faith lifted her head to find out who it was
and found herself looking right at Willow. Their eyes locked for a moment
before the redhead turned away, a considering look on her face.

One look at Faith’s face had convinced her that she was right; the brunette
Slayer, who she had never considered one to show any emotion beyond anger
and hostility, had been crying. Perhaps it was because of that, or maybe it
was simply because of how her conversation with Graham had ended, but Willow
found herself softening just a fraction towards the girl.

"We can unchain her now, you know," the redhead said to the room at large,
knowing that there was every possibility that she would come to regret
releasing Faith but pushing that thought to the back of her mind, at least
for the moment.

"And why would we want to do that?" Buffy asked without turning around.
She, like the others, was standing at the table where they had decided to
pile the ingredients of the spell until they were ready for them. "I mean,
she is a psychotic killer, Will."

"So is Spike," Willow countered, ignoring the half-hearted growl the blonde
vampire sent in her direction.

"Yeah, but he’s completely harmless now," Buffy replied, earning her own
growl from Spike.

"Yeah, whatever," Willow said with a sigh. "Come on, Buffy. Do you really
think Faith’s going to try for some massive mayhem if we unchain her? We do
have her totally outnumbered, you know. I think it’s okay if we lose the
bondage for now."

"But, Will..."

"Just give me the damn key!" the redhead snapped.

"I’ll do it," Xander offered, not really wanting his already injured best
friend to get too close to the potentially dangerous Slayer, and really
wanting to keep Willow and Buffy from getting into a fight over something
like this.

Giles nodded slightly and handed the key over to the young man, not wanting
Faith loose, but wanting to upset Willow even less. The poor girl had been
through enough already, and he was willing to indulge her. Besides, the
redhead was right. Faith was tremendously outnumbered, so if she did try
anything, she probably wouldn’t be too difficult to stop. Or, at least,
they should be able to stop her before she did any major damage.

Sighing, Xander knelt down next to the girl he had once called his friend,
surprised by the tears he saw on her face. He opened his mouth to speak,
but Faith was glaring at him defiantly, so he snapped his mouth shut,
deciding that bringing up her tears fell under the category of Very Bad
Idea. She’d probably pummel him if he did so. So, without saying a word,
Xander began the process of unlocking the chains that bound Faith.

Anya watched the process curiously as she stood by the table pretending to
survey the ingredients. She’d already made sure the others had brought back
everything she’d asked for, so the former demon figured it was okay if she
spent a moment studying her boyfriend and the brunette Slayer. She had
known that Xander had dated Cordelia Chase - their break-up was the reason
the vengeance demon had been called to Sunnydale in the first place, to
grant Cordy’s wish - but it was also clear to her that there was something
between Faith and Xander as well. She just didn’t know what. With a quick
shake of her head, she decided to put that issue out of her mind, at least
for the moment. They had more important things to do. Besides, once the
spell was completed and things were back to what passed for normal around
this place, she could question Xander all she wanted to about Faith.

Riley was also watching as Xander unchained Faith, and he turned to Willow,
a concerned look on his face. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked
the redhead.

"I second that question," Forrest muttered.

"No, I’m not," Willow replied in answer to her friend’s question. "But I
figure, what the hell? Live dangerously." The tone in her usually timid
voice brooked no room for argument, so both men, though more than a little
disgruntled, didn’t say anything further on the subject.

As Xander finished unlocking the chains that had bound her for the better
part of two hours, Faith allowed him to unwrap the chains from her wrists,
then reached down to help him unbind her ankles before handing him the
chains. She wondered if anyone realized she had just handed over a
potential weapon to the young man without trying anything, and, when she
looked up and found Willow watching her intently, she knew that at least one
of them did.

Faith didn’t know why the redhead had declared that she should no longer be
bound, but she wasn’t going to question it. She was grateful that she had
been released. Rubbing her arms in order to do away with the numbness that
had come into them, she continued to stare at Willow. Then she did
something she probably would’ve sworn she’d never do.

"Thanks."

The redhead blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the brunette to show
any gratitude, especially after what had happened between them earlier. She
recovered quickly, however, and nodded in acknowledgment of the other girl’s
statement. "You’re welcome."

"So, um, we should really set things up now," Anya said suddenly, gesturing
toward the center of the living room. "If you guys would move that coffee
table, we can do the spell there."

Forrest and Graham quickly went over to move the table in question,
carefully avoiding Faith, who hadn’t moved from her spot in front of Giles’s
recliner. They picked up the coffee table, which was more unwieldy than it
was heavy, and moved it off to the side.

As they did that, Cordelia and Anya moved to gather up the supplies, then
carried them over to the now cleared floor in the middle of the living room.
It was odd; Xander had expected that his former and current girlfriends
would not get along with each other, but things actually seemed to be going
fairly smoothly between the two girls. Of course, they hadn’t spent much
time together. That could be the explanation for why there hadn’t been any
fighting yet.

"Now what?" Buffy asked. She’d been glaring at Faith ever since Xander had
unlocked the brunette, but know she shifted her gaze to Anya.

"Well, now everyone needs to get there asses over here and sit down so I can
make a circle. All of us need to be inside of it. Oh, and someone bring a
knife. A sharp one."

"Why do we need to be inside the circle?" Wesley asked, uncertain. He could
understand why Anya, Willow, and the three Initiative members might need to
be in the circle - Anya was the one casting the spell, and the chances of
success could be helped by the presence of the people it was being cast on -
but he didn’t understand why he and everyone else were needed, too.

"Because it could help. As long as all of you really want this spell to
work, anyway. If you’re in the circle, I can draw on your powers, and it
may help make it successful."

"But what if we don’t have any powers?" Cordy asked, her brow furrowed in
confusion. If it would help Willow and the others, the brunette was all for
Anya’s suggestion; she just didn’t understand it.

"Everyone has at least a little untapped power," the former demon responded.

"And if we want to help Willow and everyone, then you should be able to use
us?" Cordelia asked, wanting clarification.

"That’s the way it works."

"Then maybe Faith should move so she won’t be in the circle," Buffy sneered.

"I want to fix this, too," the brunette countered in a low voice. "I’m
staying right here."

"Goody for you," Cordy said, her tone more brisk than mean as she focused on
the second part of Anya’s earlier command. "What’s with the knife?"

"We, uh... well, we’re going to need it," Anya replied. "So someone just go
get it, okay? I’ll explain it when we’re all in the circle. Oh, and the
people the original spell was cast on should probably be closest to me."

Grumbling slightly, the group did as she directed, and Xander grabbed a
knife from among Giles’s vast supply of weaponry. "Will this work?" he
asked his girlfriend, holding up the weapon in question. At his
girlfriend’s nod, he went over to join the others on the floor. The area
surrounded by the couch, recliner, and television set was almost overflowing
with people by now, and it took Anya a few minutes to secure the circle with
everyone inside.

"Okay, the gang’s all here. Now will you tell us why we need the bloody
knife?" Spike growled.

"Funny that you should mention blood..." Anya said quietly.

"We need blood for the spell," Angel guessed. He turned to Willow, who was
sitting in Graham’s lap. "It was probably in that part of the spell that we
couldn’t figure out."

"Okay, so we need blood," Buffy said, her voice annoyed. "Why didn’t you
tell us this before so we could grab some pig’s blood?"

"Because it wouldn’t work," Anya replied. "It has to be human blood.
Usually, it would be the blood of the person that cast the spell, but that
wouldn’t work now, what with Tara being dead and all. It simply can’t be
the blood of a dead person. So I altered the wording of the spell-"

"Then how do we know if this is going to work or not?" Forrest cut in.

"We don’t. With magick, you can never know for sure," Anya retorted.
"Look, I know it’s been awhile since I’ve done any real casting, but I’ve
been dealing with mystical things for well over a thousand years, and I’m
your best bet at figuring out a way to alter the spell without having it go
kaplooey."

"So, uh, human blood," Xander cut in, nervous. "Whose blood?"

"Well, the person has to be both human and alive, which knocks Angel and
Spike out of the running. It also can’t be the person casting the spell or
the people the spell is being cast on. Other than that, everyone’s fair
game, as long as they genuinely want the spell to be successful."

The others looked at each other, not sure who the blood donor should be.
The mental debate the others seemed to be having among themselves went on
for a few moments until someone reached out and grabbed the knife.

"Oh, just give me the damn thing!" Faith said, pulling the knife out of
Anya’s hand. Buffy, afraid the brunette was going to do something to ruin
the spell before it even started, lunged for the other girl, then drew back
in shock as Faith slashed her own arm with the sharp blade. "There. It’s
done. Now can we get on with this?" the brunette Slayer asked as she held
out her bleeding arm.

Anya quickly stuck the bowl she was going to use to mix the spells
ingredients under the other girl’s arm to catch the dripping blood. When
she had gotten enough, she drew it back, and Xander, stunned by what Faith
had done, quickly pulled the button-up shirt he had on over his T-shirt off
and wrapped it around Faith’s arm, which was still bleeding profusely.

"You always did go for the drama, didn’t you?" he muttered to her. "You’re
going to need stitches on this thing."

"Whatever," Faith replied with a shrug as she pressed the shirt to the gash
on her arm. "Thanks for makeshift bandage." She turned to the others.
"Can we get on with this now, ‘cause I really don’t want to bleed to death
over here."

Anya nodded, then quickly but carefully began going into the procedures of
casting the spell. The others sat quietly, not wanting to break the former
demon’s concentration, and also still in shock over Faith’s unexpected
actions.

Anya’s brow furrowed in concentration as she finished mixing the ingredients
and began the actual casting. She spoke the words softly of the spell
softly at first, then louder as she dripped the mixture over the pictures
Tara had originally used, then over the ones that had been gathered
specifically for this spell. Her voice grew both in power and intensity as
she began the final lines of the spell, and the others jumped as a flash of
bright light filled the room, the shock and force of it nearly knocking them
to the floor.

After a few moments during which the only sound heard was breathing, Anya
dismantled the circle, then looked up at the others, who were watching her
expectantly.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what?" Forrest asked, his voice incredulously. "Did the
spell work? I mean, is that what that big flash meant? That the spell was
successful?"

The former demon shrugged and shared a look with Willow. She knew the
redhead knew what she was about to say, but she wasn’t sure how the guys
would react. "Well, we don’t know, exactly. That’s the thing about magick
like this. You don’t know if it worked until you try it out."

"Until... we... try... it.. out..." Riley repeated slowly, not sounding
altogether thrilled with the prospect.

"That’s what I said," Anya said as she turned to look at Willow and the
three guys the spell had been cast over. Once she was facing them, she
added cheerfully, "So, anyone ready for a nap?"


Epilogue

~*~Three months later~*~

Faith was gone.

Not gone as in dead, gone as in she had gotten the hell out of Sunnydale the
minute their backs were turned. Not that it had surprised Willow; she’d
expected the brunette Slayer to do as much. What she hadn’t expected,
however, was the letters she occasionally got from the other girl.

The letters were long, rambling, and filled with poor spelling, but Willow
had come to look forward to them. She wasn’t sure why, exactly. She and
Faith were enemies, and they had been for a long time. But maybe things had
changed a little during that hellish day and night three months before when
they’d finally had their confrontation and Faith had actually ended up
helping out with the spell. Maybe, slowly but surely, she was forgiving
Faith for what the other girl had done.

Sighing softly, Willow looked at the half dozen or so letters that were
spread across her desk. Some were confessionals, Faith’s retellings of the
terrible things she had done in the past and how much she hated herself for
her actions, and one was an actual apology that took up the better part of
six pages. The most recent one, the one she had just gotten today, was the
most promising, however.

Faith was in Los Angeles.

And she wasn’t just in LA, either. She was actually staying with Angel.
Apparently, she had been doing so for the better part of a week, but she had
begged the vampire - who Willow now kept in touch with by e-mail - to let
her be the one to tell the redhead. It seemed that now Faith had finally
decided to do what she could towards her own redemption, and she had written
to Willow that her first step in doing so was to apologize to the people she
had hurt, so she had written everyone in the Scooby Gang, as well as Riley,
Graham, and Forrest. Willow wasn’t certain how the others - especially
Buffy, who still despised her fellow Slayer - would respond to the letters,
but she hoped they would go over well. Faith seemed to genuinely want to
change this time, and Willow wanted her to have the chance to do so. She
wasn’t certain how bad reactions from the others would be taken by the
brunette.

"Anybody home?"

Willow turned at the unexpected voice, smiling as her boyfriend entered the
room. Her sharp eyes immediately caught sight of the envelope in his hand,
and she looked up and met his eyes.

"Is that from Faith?"

"I guess that means you knew this was coming," Graham replied as he walked
over to his girlfriend, leaning down to kiss her gently. He then took hold
of her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her palm. She’d gotten her
cast taken off recently, and her hand still wasn’t back to full strength,
but it was improving daily. "So, how long have you known that Faith was
going to send these letters out?"

"Just found out, actually," Willow replied, picking up her most recent
letter from Faith. Only Graham knew about the letters the brunette had been
sending. so the others were sure to be shocked when they got their own
letters from her. "How do you think everyone’s going react?"

"Riley was pretty surprised," Graham answered as he sat down on Willow’s
bed, leaning against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of
him. "But he took it well. I mean, he’s glad she’s taking responsibility
for her actions and stuff. I don’t know if Forrest has seen his yet, but I
think he’ll be okay. Don’t know about the others."

"Me, neither. Look, I know that most of us have reason to hate Faith-"

"You more than anyone," Graham added.

"-But I think she really means it this time, you know? I think she’s really
trying, and I just hope the others realize that. I mean, Angel’s getting
his shot at redemption..."

"Why not Faith?" Graham finished for her. In the months that they had been
dating, he had gotten to know the way Willow thought and acted, but
sometimes her capacity for love and forgiveness still amazed him. However,
given the letter he had just received from Faith, he actually found himself
agreeing with her.

"Exactly," Willow responded, nodding her head decisively before opening her
mouth in a surprisingly large yawn.

"Tired?" Graham asked, laughing.

"You could say that."

"Then come here," he told her opening his arms and moving down in the bed so
that his head was on the pillow. Smiling, Willow moved over to him and
climbed on the bed, curling up against him and using his chest as a pillow.
Graham smiled as she snuggled up to him, and he wrapped his arms around her,
enjoying how nicely she seemed to fit with him. They lay quietly, their
arms around each other, both lost in their own thoughts. It wasn’t long
before the pair slipped quietly into the world of sleep and dreams.

They both slept peacefully.

The End