Birth, Death, Love and Hate

by Connor Kubrick

Copyright © 2003

deaf_jazzman@hotmail.com

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters that have appeared in the series Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel, together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of Joss Whedon, Fox and Mutant Enemy. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. Neither the author nor any sites this story may appear on receive any compensation for the story.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse    http://mysticmuse.net
Spoilers: All of season 7 of Buffy and season 4 of Angel.
Feedback: Yes, but I can't guarantee a reply. And it's my first fic, so be lenient!
Author's Notes: Few things you should know. At the time of writing, Buffy has finished, Cordelia is in a coma, Angel is the only one with a memory of Connor and Spike will somehow be resurrected in LA. This story is set one and a half years after 'Chosen', and everything that has happened in both shows are regarded. However, since then (in my wacko fanfic world) Cordelia has woken up and is back to her not evil, yet not wanting to date Angel ways, Connor is still gone with only Angel's memories as proof of his former life, Spike is still a vampire with a soul (and dislike for Angel), Giles has gone back to England and the new slayers have disbanded, fighting evil around the world. Despite everything in the story that may seem confusing, ALL will be cleared up, I swear! One last thing, I'm English, so you'll encounter my English spellings for some things, but I'll really make an effort when American characters are speaking/thinking, I swear! Okay, really the last thing now, as I am human I don't like all characters equally, and hence subconsciously may put these characters in negative or threatening (by which I mean dead) positions. Of course it's all subconsciously. I have no control over it.
PS: There really is a drink in England called Sunny-D (Sunny Delight). Dunno if they make anywhere else. Just thought it was funny. Which it isn't.

CHAPTER ONE REBORN

Frankfurt, 1129

"And there will be a time of crisis. Of worlds hanging in the balance. And in this time shall come the Anointed. The Master's great warrior. And the Slayer will not know him, will not stop him, and he shall lead her into Hell."

He pinched his temple, focusing what was left of his energies on completing the text. He could feel the spirit of the prophets leaving his weary shell, but it was this very spirit that was telling him how pivotal completing it was.

"When the stars shall rise to the count of one thousand, following the Septus advent. Five will die, and from their ashes the Anointed shall rise. The Brethren of Aurelius shall greet him and usher him to his immortal destiny."

"As it is written, so shall it be."

And with that, his link to what would come to be centuries from now diminished, he pushed the pages aside to wait for the ink to dry. His stomach alone told him that above the night had risen, and with it the overwhelming temptation to feed and relinquish energies. However it is this very reason that prevented him from doing so. Above him the aristocrats were out for the night, and the events of earlier had drained him of most of his magic, forcing him out of the mask he made and wore in a crowd, and back into face he wore before his mortal death; dark and attention grabbing. The last thing he wanted was to be confused with a slave.

Despite this, he was very happy. Shifting his gaze toward the bed, he let his eyes rest on the figure that lies there. When he had found him, this young man had earned stature among the lords that rule this city, but was far from someone special. Or so they thought.

He knew different. He saw the role this boy would play in the centuries to come, and knew somehow it would fit together and usher in his own revival. Drawing in all his power, every piece of strength he had in his soul, he had offered him his purest blood, and in that moment he was spoken to by the prophets, and instantly came down to record what they were telling. He now knew what this new childe, this Heinrich Joseph Nest, would become.

"You will start it all." He crooned to the pale corpse, brushing his large hand over the Heinrich's short, brown hair affectionately. "With your power, the lesser ones will bow at your feet, and replenish our Brethren. With the power I have infused in you, your face will soon shrug off this disgusting you wear now and the demon will show itself. You shall be stronger than any other. In time they shall call you Master. I shall train you, allow you to become what I have dreamed you to be, and then you shall leave me, betray me." He grinned, and leaned further in to whisper to body. "But there in lies the joke. You'll think you are leaving me for dead, betraying me while you set off to open the Hellmouth. But I've heard it all. You will find these words I've written, the Anointed shall rise, shall lead her. And then you shall split the line. You yourself shall fail yourself, but will appease me. The split you create will start it all. The second slayer shall die, the Goddess shall be born, the Goddess will die, and I shall be revived."

He smiled at this thought. He had endured several millennia without his powers, stuck with little more magic than the other blood suckers of the world. This magic alone had allowed him to alter his own appearance, keep looking human and change the color of his skin to avoid certain prejudices, but it was nothing to the glory he had known.

Turning back to the corpse, waiting patiently for him to arise, he grew hopeful. He had less than one more millennia to endure, and there was much to do. Soon everyone will know the name he chose so many years ago, they will tremble at the mere mention of Lucius Aurelius.

"Soon."

New York, 2004

"Buffy, behind you!"

Buffy turned just in time to see the sole of one of the vamps' shoe flying into her face, but not in time to duck. The vamp instantly straddled Buffy once her back hit the floor, pinning her arms to the ground.

"Tell us where the Goddess is and I swear your death will be quick"

"While I fully trust a soulless creature of the night to keep his promises, 'friad to say I haven't been hanging out in the heavens in years. Me and the Gods don't keep in touch"

"Then I guess it's a slow death." He snarled, bearing his teeth as he lent. Before Buffy knew it she was covered in dust and looking up at Xander baring the broken end of a broom and holding his hand out to Buffy.

"Thanks for that." She exclaimed as she took his hand and pulled herself up, coughing out the remains of her attacker while brushing off the dust from her clothes.

"No probs. Though I've got to say the amount of wooden things people leave in alleys is mighty helpful." He replied, tossing the broken broom on the floor.

Buffy looked up at the gray sky and sighed. "You know, I'm beginning to understand why New York has so many unsolved murders."

Following her gaze, Xander nodded his head in agreement. "It does make you appreciate good old Sunny D. Before it was crater that is. At least there daytime meant sun pretty much everyday. Thanks to these damn clouds vamps here are walking about middle of the day half the time. Maybe we need to call a couple more slayers down here, now that Vi's going. What do you think?" Unbeknownst to Xander, Buffy had long since stopped listening and was far more interested in the ring that hadn't dusted with the rest of the vamp.

"Huh?"

"I mean it makes you wonder how Giles is doing in the land of the rain. Must be like vamp central, huh Buff?" Xander noticed Buffy was more interested in something else. "Buff?"

Buffy kept inspecting the ring, not being able to shake off the feeling she'd seen it somewhere before. When she looked at the inside her eyes widened in fear as she instantly recognized the sun and three stars symbol engraved there. It was the ring the Master's Brethren wore, and if there's one vampire she did not ever want to see again, it's him. However, despite her having killed him seven years ago, things didn't always have a tendency to stay dead. She knew that better than anyone.

Gaining the strength to stand, Buffy never lifted her gaze from the ring. "Oh God."

"What? What is it?" Xander didn't know exactly what was so terrible about a ring, but he'd learned long ago if Buffy was this freaked out, things weren't good.

"I've got to call Giles."

"Buffy what is it?" Xander asked, his concern becoming too much to bare.

"Hopefully a coincidence, but I think the boy scouts had a point when they said to be prepared."

"You want me to fetch Willow and Kennedy? They should still be at Grand Central now." Xander asked looking at his watch.

"Grand Central?" Buffy asked in confusion, finally looking away from the ring.

"Remember, they drove Vi." Xander replied. He wasn't too thrilled that the slayer had moved to Seattle, mostly because she was a good slayer and New York needed all it could get.

"Oh yeah. Thanks. Meet me at my place in an hour?" Buffy asked, finally breaking away from the ring.

"Sure. I'll bring donuts. Just like old times."

As the two friends parted, neither noticed the vampire listening nearby, whom had just pulled out his mobile phone. "Grand Central Station…make sure you have as many as possible, she's powerful, has at least one slayer with her and a boy coming to her aid…the redhead is your target…complete destruction of the body…I don't know but I should imagine they'll let themselves be known once their friend is attacked…the one coming has a patch over his left eye…remember, kill, divert them or simply avoid them, but do not fail to kill the Goddess."

"So what do you want to do now?" Willow asked as she walked hand in hand with Kennedy back through the station.

"Anything. We're both young virile women with the whole day to spare." Kennedy answered, glancing sideways at Willow as she did.

"Well, we could go shopping. I want some flip flops for when we visit LA in January." Willow suggested somewhat hopefully, knowing perfectly well what her girlfriend wanted. "I know there's a whole earliness factor, but you know, it's good to make sure…" She trailed, thinking hard to make her suggestion better than it was.

Kennedy smirked at her lover's answer. "Okay Willow, we've been going out for one and a half years now; when have I ever used the words young and virile and not been talking about sex?"

Willow forced a smile to her lips and swung her head around in desperation, resting on the door to the toilets. "I'm just going to the bathroom." Willow said as she extricated her hand from Kennedy's, walking away as she said it.

"Oh, I see you can't wait to get home." Kennedy smirked some more, following Willow until she abruptly spun back around to face her.

"No!" Willow exclaimed. "I really just need to go to the bathroom. Just wait out here."

"Okay. But don't blame me if I get bored and come after you."

Willow found a forced uncomfortable laugh reach her lips as she went into the toilets. In reality she really didn't want the same as Kennedy, but knew the slayer really didn't take this into account when she got in the mood. Since Kennedy had been activated she'd realized the effects of the famous 'hungry and horny' theory first hand, except with Kennedy she didn't seem to need the slaying to set it off. It's not as if she didn't enjoy the sex, and sure they did things over than this, but Willow could never feel fulfilled.

She felt like she was back with Oz; she cared for Kennedy but, it just felt wrong, something was missing. Of course, Willow knew what was missing, and it wasn't something, it was everything. Her everything. When Oz came back, being with him, just talking with him wasn't anything like what she thought it should be, because she'd been with someone who made her feel like she was in Heaven no matter what she did with her, and no matter how great it was to talk to Oz, it just paled in comparison after experiencing spending her time with her. Kennedy felt exactly the same. She thought she might as well be back with Oz! 'Except for the whole penis thing' she thought. However, she realized it she couldn't judge every relationship she has from now on with what she felt with Tara, after all she would never get that feeling back. And if Kennedy was the closest thing, she'd just have to try hard to make the relationship work.

While she waited for Willow's return, Kennedy scanned the crowd. Partly because of her natural slayer instincts to look for nasties, mostly because she was bored. Her gaze was almost instantaneously drawn to a young couple-or what appeared to be a young couple-moving out of the station. The man had an unmistakable predatory glance in his eye you see only in insurance salesmen or vampires. 'Either way, the world will be a better place with him dead' Kennedy reasoned.

She soon found out which he was; in the alley nearby lay the girl with a broken neck. 'Damn' thought Kennedy, 'vampires have no class these days. Just a quick bite and run off before anyone has the chance to slay…wait!' Kennedy realized something; since when the vampires break necks instead of feeding? 'Either he's had a large lunch…or this is a…'

"Trap."

At that moment, 4 vamps came charging at her, two from behind her and one ahead. She spun around to face the two behind first, ducking under the fist of the first to reach her and plunging her stake through his chest. She spun round to give his friend a kick in the back of the head, launching him into one of the others. As they hit the ground, Kennedy fought the other, soon realizing they were far from skilled warriors as she soon had her stake firmly imbedded in his chest. Before she could celebrate, another vamp wrapped his arm around her throat and pinned her against himself as his friend advanced on them. Once he was within range, Kennedy pushed herself against her captor, launching her legs up into the face of her attacker. As she did so, she brought her right hand down behind herself in between the vamp's legs, and twisted. With an indignant yelp the vamp loosened his hold and Kennedy forced him back into the wall, with one hand still on his genitalia and the other reaching for her stake. Tightening her grip, she let the vampire's privates give out a large crunch before she put him out of his misery and turned him to dust. She launched herself into a spinning kick as she heard movement behind her and seconds later the last vamp was on his back and Kennedy had her stake through his chest.

As she dusted herself off, Kennedy heard a lone, echoed clapping from behind her. "Bravo."

She instantly recognized him as the vampire that led her out here in the first place. "I could say the same to you but I'd be lying. You really need to get yourself some female lackeys. Guys just can't seem to get the job done. Or so I find, anyway" She added as an afterthought.

"Each of us played our part perfectly. Everything is where it should be."

"Just to clarify, these piles of dust here used to be your vampy friends. To be honest if you're going to go through the trouble of leading me out here to kill me you should've got your best men on the job, assuming these aren't your best men." Kennedy smirked. This vamp didn't look tough, and it was always fun to engage them in a little friendly banter.

The vampire laughed. "Typical slayers. No matter how many of you there are you all think you're unique, that we dedicate ourselves to your destruction. Why do you think such things?"

"You tell me. You're the one leading me on to your trap."

"Oh, but a slayer was never the target." The vampire smirked. "I've never been one for brunettes. I've always been much more of a redhead guy myself." The vampire's grin widened as he watched Kennedy's eyes do likewise as she finally understood what was going on. Glancing down at his watch, his grin cracked into a quiet laugh. "And look at that. The transportation has just left. In minutes your friend will be as dead as…"

He never finished his sentence before he descended into dust, allowing Kennedy to spot Xander standing behind him holding a stake. "As dead as you." Xander quipped. When he spotted Kennedy he frowned. "Kennedy? What is it?"

"Willow"

Willow looked around the small van. Her fear, which was already pretty high up, increased tenfold when she noticed that the inside was laced with C4! 'C4?! What the Hell are vampires doing with C4? And why are they driving so fast? We'll be blown to smithereens!' Thought Willow.

Up until now she thought she was still pretty safe. The vampires obviously had some plan with her that doesn't entail killing, or at least right away, or they would've just killed her outright instead of kidnapping her, right? And even so, despite the fact that she was gagged, her hands and feet were tied up and in the corner the chanting vampire seemed to be doing a pretty good job of binding her powers, she was pretty sure her protection ward should keep her safe from most things. Most things excluding being the center of a C4 explosion.

There were five vampires in the back with her, including the chanter and a psychotic looking one holding the detonator. 'Not the sort of vamp I want holding my life in his hands' Willow thought. To her knowledge there were two up front, including one doing some very risky driving. All the windows were blacked out, and there was no way for Willow to escape without her magic, and that was before she noticed the high explosives. Now she knew even if she had her magics, using them here would be a death wish.

"We're being followed. Silver car. I think it's the slayer." Someone called from the front.

"Lose them!" Psycho boy snapped back.

"I can't. At the speed we're going if I go any faster we're all gonna blow!"

'Xander, stop following. Please stop following.' Thought Willow. She wished her telepathy could function.

The psycho boy thought for a moment then locked his eyes on Willow's as he spoke. "Fine. Then we all blow." He lifted the detonator up and moved his thumb over the button.

"What?" The driver called in disbelief.

Willow was panicking. Really panicking. It sounded as though her 'they don't want to kill me' theory was wrong. She was going to die. 'I am going to die' Willow thought, confused. 'Why doesn't that bother me?'

The psycho called back to the driver. "For Aurelius we live, for Aurelius we die!" He looked back at Willow squarely in the eyes. "She must die, and her body obliterated. From our ashes, he will rise again." Every eye in the back of the van was on him as he took a deep breath. "Goodbye, witch." And with that, he forced his thumb down.

'Finally!' Was all Willow could think.

"Something's wrong."

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong here."

"It is. We're being pulled. You're being pulled. Away."

"Away? But I just got here."

"I can't help it. This is wrong. I feel…separate. We're being separated!"

"No! We can't! Not here! No!"

"Willoooooooow…"

"Taraaaaaaaaaaaa…"

As his vampire brother fumbled with the keys to the chamber, Veron was getting increasingly impatient.

"Hurry up, Edgar!"

"I can't find the right key."

When he heard his master give out another wail in pain from the room beyond, Veron finally had enough and lifted Edgar up by the back of his neck. "I'll show you the right key." He hissed as he flung Edgar through the wooden door. Jumping through the now demolished door and past Edgar, Veron immediately rushed to his master's side.

Lucius was kneeling in the center of the room, his long dark hair hiding his now pale face and his dark robe draped around him haphazardly. He had stopped wailing but was still shaking violently.

"What is it, my Lord?"

"It is done…the Goddesses…destroyed. The power…finally…" Lucius smiled, though no one could see through his veil of black hair.

Veron, confused, hesitantly reached down to his master. "My Lord?"

Just as his hand was inches from his master's shoulder, Lucius surprised Veron by snatching his wrist and gripping it tight, not caring as Veron gasped from the pain of his cracking wrists. When Lucius raised his head up to fix his eyes to Veron's, Veron found all words escape him as he saw Lucius' eyes replaced by blackish-purplish orbs with small tentacles extended out of them whipping around them like spider legs. His maser's whole face, nay body, was covered in these purple veins that moved around like worms as he clearly saw the power pulsating slowly around his master's body. His face was looking distinctly inhumane, even worse than his game face; it was bursting with demonic presence. As was his hands, which were now much larger with claws accompanying each stick like, but surprisingly powerful, finger. Veron could only imagine that, under his clothes, the rest of Lucius' body had the same look of a demon pushing its way out. However, it was what was happening to his own body that demanded attention in Veron's mind

Edgar, who was watching from the floor, had his mindscape changed from wonderment, as he realized what had finally happened to his master, to horror as he saw Veron's veins turn purple, much like Lucius', yet much larger and much more painful looking. When Veron turned to face him, silently begging for help, Edgar could see why he was silent; his lips were swollen and looked like they were about to burst, as was his tongue. Both were purple. At thinking this, Edgar realized his blood was boiling, and in fact within seconds they did indeed burst, spilling purplish red blood on the floor surrounding him. He dropped to his knees as Lucius kept his grip on him and his skin started melting or burning away while more veins burst within him. His hair had long since fallen from his scalp, and Edgar was sure he sure his eyeballs bubbling. Soon enough, Veron was a pile of bones and burning skin, blood and organs. Edgar had often wondered if it were possible to kill a vampire in a way that didn't involve dust. Now he knew there were, he prayed his end would be a dusty one.

Lucius stood up, admiring his work, before looking down at himself and what he has become. "Finally." He crooned. "It has begun."

CHAPTER TWO NOSTALGIA

Marcus Williams took quick, bold strides down the sterile corridors. He was unnerved by the pure white, ultra-clean decor, and the overwhelming lack of smell. It wasn't that he had anything against science, it's just a stark difference from what he is used to in the old establishment. Plus of course it reminded him all too much of the US government's infamous botched project, the Initiative. He prayed to God this new generation of the watchers' council does not go the same way.

However none of this fazed him as less than a minute ago he got the call he had been prepared for all his life, and knew would come eventually for over year. Every one of his predecessors studied so that they may do what he will. He will observe the 'Benevolent half'.

While he was thrilled at the prospect of finally studying the subject, he also knew what its arrival meant. Lucius Aurelius has returned to full power, and he will undoubtedly rain chaos down upon the Earth. However, Marcus reminded himself, this is why he is doing this. Once he has studied the Benevolent half, he was certain they could find a way to bind Lucius once again.

When he opened the door, followed by his two associates, his eyes immediate fell on the figure in the room behind the two way mirror. The room it was in was decorated in the exact same way as the corridors, and to one side laid a single bed. Other than that, the room was bare. The Benevolent half was huddled in the corner.

"The Benevolent half returned to this plane exactly two minutes, eighteen seconds ago, sir." One of the men already in the room addressed Marcus, simultaneously checking his watch and handing him a report at the same time.

"Excellent." Replied Marcus, flicking through the thick report quickly. "Is the room secure?"

"Absolutely. We have security on high alert and the shamans have enforced a fool proof shield surrounding the area. It will take an advanced user to break this kind of protection and of course this entire wing is under constant surveillance 24/7." He reported back.

"The mark?"

"A perfect star surrounded by three smaller ones was on the palm of the subject's right hand the moment of return."

"Just as I hypothesized." Marcus smirked, pleased at his own accomplishments. "Any complaints?"

"The subject seems to be experiencing back pains but not overwhelming, at least not enough to brave the rest of the room and the bed." He laughed quietly and nervously as he pointed between the figure and bed in question. "It's to be expected at this stage."

"Have you tested her magic efficiency?"

"Y-you told us not to proceed with any testing until we've consulted you." The man answered nervously.

Marcus glanced at the worker and flashed him a grin. It pleased him to know he was frightening this young man. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder and leaned in. When the boy gulped nervously, Marcus decided to put him out of his misery. "Good lad." The boy sighed in relief and Marcus brought his attention back down to the report. "I shouldn't imagine her efficiency has changed much since before the death but it's best to be sure. I doubt she could do any real damage even if she had contact with the Power half. Speaking of which, have you contacted Mr. Richmond?"

"Yes sir." Answered the worker. He thought to add the sir, just to make sure he was still in his boss's good books. "He has dispatched his team and they should be leaving for New York within the hour. To my knowledge the death happened in an explosion, most likely conceived by Aurelius' Brethren."

"Tell me as soon as the Power half is caught. With any luck we may be able to use their collective power to once again bind Lucius."

"Of course, sir."

Marcus lifted his gaze back to the figure in the room. "Start the routine tests immediately, blood samples, DNA and the like. Be prepared to start advanced testing as soon as I deliver the word from Travers, is that understood?"

"Loud and clear sir." And with that the young man discussed the procedures with the rest of the men and women who were already in the room when Marcus had arrived. With one final look at the Benevolent half, Marcus turned and left the room, followed by his associates.

"I doubt it is nothing more than a coincidence, Buffy"

"And if it isn't?"

Giles sighed. He knew the topic of the master hit a particularly sore spot with Buffy but she had a tendency to overreact. "Buffy, vampires are noble creatures and will belong to a sect throughout their eternal lives; just because the Master is dead it doesn't mean that the order of Aurelius has disbanded. I imagine they just have different agendas nowadays."

"Well he did say something about a goddess." Buffy replied.

"Can you narrow it down?"

"He didn't give a name, just said he's after her."

"Well, I'll look at my books, see what goddesses the order may have interest in but from what you tell me I don't see any reason to suspect that the master will be or is resurrected." Giles reasoned.

"Okay. Good." Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. It was short lived however when she spied the news broadcast on the television.

"Is there anything else?" Giles asked. When he got no reply he asked again, speaking louder into the phone. "Buffy? Hello? Are you still there?"

After several more seconds Buffy delivered her monotone reply. "Giles, I have to go." She immediately hung up.

"Buffy? Buffy?" Giles tried eager to find out what had unnerved her to such a degree. He hung up and immediately picked it up again, dialing frantically.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you; the slayer's got her own problems over the pond." Giles was startled away from his phone duties by the voice behind him. It held a New York accent and was owned by a weasely little man with a poor dress sense standing at the doorway to his kitchen. Giles immediately forgot about Buffy, placing the phone back in it's cradle to fully focus on this new arrival. "By the way," The man started, holding up an empty bottle of Sunny Delight, "You're out of Sunny D. Though I s'pose the big crater in California is evidence for that." He gave a small laugh before tossing the bottle in the bin.

"Who are you?" Giles asked as he rose from his chair, ready to move to attack should it come down to it.

"Name's Whistler."

"I don't know any Whistler."

"No, but your buddies do." Whistler explained, pointing to the phone behind Giles. "And while a slayer or a vampire with a soul may be better experienced for this type of job, you happen to be here."

"What job?" Giles asked, cautiously.

"The watchers' council. They got themselves a highly valuable new intake. I'm not talking bling-bling value either, I'm talking full blown difference between us all dying or all living, know what I mean? Least the PTB seem to think so anyway." Whistler shrugged as he lit himself a cigarette.

"Ah," Giles smirked, and readied himself for attack, "you see now I know you're lying. The watchers' council was destroyed two years ago."

"You really think they didn't go deeper than one building?" Whistler asked, truly amazed that someone formerly working for the council would think them so ill-prepared. "Here's the drill, the new president is a real bad ass, he's gonna be wanting to use their new intake to increase the council's power, rather than focusing on the problem at hand. Now the powers brought me here about five minutes ago, right by your house, filled me with this knowledge. I've worked for them for a while now but they're being real urgent about this one. Something big is going on and it has something to do with the Benevolent half."

"Benevolent half?" Giles asked curiously

"Name of the intake. Don't know what it is exactly-demon, human, new McDonald's hamburger-but it's powerful. And you and your buds need it."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to storm the council, escape with some entity which from all I know could be a demon that wants to eat my head, avoid security both physical and magical and take it to America to fight something?" Giles surmised, quite amused at it's absurdity.

"It might tricky but the powers wouldn't send me if they didn't think you could do it." Whistler shrugged. "Besides, there's a couple of slayers here in England, ask them to help out."

"This is asking an awful lot, considering you've yet to give to give me any reason why I shouldn't kill you, let alone believe you."

"Yeah, I thought as much." Whistler reached carefully into his coat pocket and passed Giles something quite large wrapped in a handkerchief. "PTB also dropped me off with that. Open it, and then decide what you're gonna do." Giles glanced down at what had been given to him. "I'll let myself out." When Giles looked back up at him, Whistler was gone.

Fixing his gaze back to what lay in his hand, Giles thought about what had just transpired. If in fact Whistler had been telling the truth, the new president of the council would be Benjamin Travers; Quentin's son, whom he or any of the ex-council members he keeps in touch with hadn't heard from since his father's death. However, Giles did not see this as a negative thing, quite the opposite. Benjamin is power thirsty and more psychotic than his father, despite them hating each other. While Quentin followed his predecessors in following tradition, it was no secret that Benjamin favors a more advanced protocol, while being ruthless and sadistic. Many feared that the council under Quentin's rule would be the last generation of the council before it moved into a dangerous new territory, not unlike the Initiative, without the ignorance of the occult, but with all the power to be doing…exactly what Whistler said. If it is true, which Giles had to admit was very likely, he wouldn't be surprised that he or certain other ex-council members wouldn't be informed. Many would think they would frown upon such things. 'Too bloody right we would' thought Giles.

Realizing the danger would be far too great if true to merely ignore the information, but it would be deadly to both him and anyone who aids him to attack the council, and the added risk of the information being false, Giles resolved to research the matter before taking action.

However, the moment he unwrapped the item concealed within the handkerchief and gazed upon it, he felt his resolve go out the window. Inside was an ornate dagger. The edges were worn, but there was no mistaking what it was. On the blade a symbol was engraved, a sun and three smaller suns surrounding it, much like the symbol of…

"Aurelius!" Giles gasped.

Without thinking Giles scrambled upstairs to his bedroom and into his wardrobe. Reaching up to the back, he found what he was looking for-a key. He returned back downstairs and into the wine cellar underneath the cottage, immediately pushing aside a couple of wine barrels on the far wall and pulling up the small, camouflaged door behind them. Having revealed a safe behind the door, he put in the combination, opened it and pulled out a large, heavy box with six locks. He hastily began unlocking each of the locks in a specific combination before opening the lid and reaching in to take out the leather-bound, blood splattered book within.

As he gazed upon the book he now held, he recalled the events that lead him to locking it up in the first place. He knew if he were a wiser man he would destroy it, but he'd been unable to. Despite his hopes, some part of him knew he would he would need it again.

Somewhat hesitantly, Giles rested his hands on the book's cover and began to chant.

"Pado, Pseudamani! Kadamando, Pseudamani! Bashicondimni, Pseudamani!"

He wretched his hands away as the book opened itself and the pages of thick volume fluttered across each other, blowing a fierce wind in Giles' face and filling the air with agonizing howls of pain and terror. Just as soon as it started, the cellar dropped once again into an eerie silence and the book left itself wide open on the page it knew Giles wanted.

The first-and most important-thing Giles noted when he gazed upon the page was the symbol dominating the page; a sun accompanied by three others, identical to that of the dagger's. However, it was the inscription that accompanied the picture that unnerved him the most.

"Goddess of the Slayer."

As Giles read over the passage in earnest his eyes widened further, and his face drained of its color. Finally, he could take no more and slammed the book shut, resulting in a shuddering echo throughout the cellar.

"Dear God." He breathed out. No matter what he did, he'd have to do it fast.

The first thing Willow became aware of was her distinct lack of senses. At this moment, nothing had taste; there was no light, no sound, no smell and no feeling. All she knew was she was in pain.

'Okay, so I guess that is feeling.' Willow corrected herself. 'Not a pleasant feeling, but a feeling.' Her spine felt like it'd been taken out, used as a skipping rope and tap danced on and then put back in by a drunken mechanic. Blindfolded. With no hands. 'At least I'm not dead.' Willow frowned at the thought, not just because her last thought was how inviting that would be, but also the fact is she really should be dead. 'Pain, no clouds, no angels, no Tara…not Heaven. Bearable pain, no sulphur, no flaming lake, no Harmony…not Hell. So where am I?'

"Willow?"

'Huh, my senses are clearing up.' Thought Willow as she carefully opened her eyes, only to blink several times to regain her focus. She noticed Kennedy right by her bedside next to Buffy, Xander and Dawn. She was unmistakably in a hospital. 'Guess I survived then. How did I survive?'

"Willow!" Kennedy flung herself onto Willow's lips momentarily before moving her show of affection into a tight hug. "Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?"

"I'll try not to…if I survived this hug that is." Gasped Willow as she fought for air.

Realizing herself, Kennedy withdrew herself, only to be replaced by a fast moving Dawn, then Buffy, and finally Xander.

"Christ Will. I appreciate it but sometimes you can take a gag too far." Xander whispered into her ear before extricating himself from her.

"Hey, sometimes you've got to go to great lengths to beat the local funny man." Willow nodded to Xander, who rewarded her back with a grin.

"I've gotta say that must've been some major mojo you worked up in there Will." Buffy probed. Despite the fact that Willow had been clear of dark magic for two and a half years, Buffy could always feel a small piece of doubt in her mind; the event was far too traumatic to allow even a chance of reprisal.

"I don't even know how I did it." Willow admitted. "Shamans were blocking me."

"Well something sure as hell wants your ass just the way it is because you haven't got a scratch. Something other than me, that is." Kennedy added as an afterthought with a smirk.

"You serious?" Willow asked, genuinely shocked.

"How do you feel?" Dawn asked. It seemed like the first thing anyone should ask, yet no one had.

"Bit of a back ache but that's it. Guess C4 isn't what it used to be." Willow shrugged. She searched her brain for anything useful, coming up with only recollections of her short lived kidnapping. "The vamps in the van said something about wanting my body obliterated?" Her words came out more as a question as she started to doubt whether or not it is really what she heard. "And they said that they'd give their lives for Aurelius."

Buffy felt herself pale at Willow's words. "We should call Giles."

Willow frowned at her friend. "You sure he wont just overreact?"

A shotgun in the hip holster, two pistols, one in each inside trench coat pocket, a samurai sword slung in its holster across his back underneath his coat, and a dagger in each wrist holster.

Giles leaned against the wall of his living room and took a deep breath, barely believing he was about to do what he was. He was pretty sure he would die. He was certain someone would.

Gathering all his courage he walked toward his desk, where the dagger and book lie. 'This is it' He thought, as he took the dagger and, with some force behind it, pierced the skin of his palm, drawing blood onto the blade. He then held the blade over the book, as if he were about to stab its black heart, and let the blood drip onto cover, already marred by other's blood. 'Time to let Ripper come out and play.'

"Pado, Pseudamani! Kadamando, Pseudamani! Bashicondimni, Pseudamani!"

Buffy was shocked. Beyond shocked. And today was a big day for shocks. But this…wow. She must've heard wrong.

"I'm sorry, for a minute there it sounded like you said you're going to ask Willow to marry you."

"What's wrong with that?" Kennedy asked. "Is it 'cause I'm a woman?"

"No," Buffy replied quickly. "it's because you're a Kennedy. And Kennedys don't seem like the type of women to marry."

"I love her." Kennedy explained. "I didn't think I'd get married either, but when I thought Willow might be dead it scared me like hell. Like I've never been scared before. And I realized then that I wouldn't be feeling this way unless it was true love. We're meant to be together forever, I can feel it. And this is what this is about." Kennedy surmised with a smile.

Buffy forced a genuine looking smile to her face and gave Kennedy a hug. "Then I'm happy you, really." She told her. "I hope you'll make it work." But she was far from happy. Kennedy hadn't seen Willow before. Anyone who had would have seen instantly who Willow was going to be with forever. And it wasn't Kennedy. Buffy knew Willow better than anyone, anyone living at least, and she knew the only thing keeping Willow together was the thought that at the end of it all she'll be with Tara forever. Kennedy doesn't get that, Buffy realized, and her fear was that unless Tara herself walked into Willow's room, she'd never get married.

As Buffy hugged her, Kennedy gave a sigh of relief. 'It isn't that she doesn't like me', she thought to herself, 'she's just a little shocked.' Kennedy was glad. She knew they all liked Willow's ex, that Tara chick, but from the pictures she'd seen of Tara she wasn't anything special, she certainly thought herself better looking, plus she was a real slayer. She could protect Willow. Throughout the relationship Kennedy knew her biggest job was getting Willow over the blonde, but as Willow didn't talk about her much, Kennedy figured she must not have loved her as much as her friends seem to thing. Not as much as Willow's now in love with her. Kennedy figured her friends must've seen a better part of the relationship, and thought that Willow loved Tara more than she really did. It must've been pretty bad, after all Tara left Willow. 'Stupid bitch' thought Kennedy, 'Willow deserved more than that anyway. That's where I come in.' She thought happily. When she heard Buffy, she sighed contently. "We will."

Willow was already bored. She'd only been it hospital for a couple of hours but she was bored beyond reproach. The frustrating thing was she knew she was fine; she didn't even have a back ache anymore. But the hospital refused to let her go yet. 'Seems being in the center of an explosion is a pretty big thing' She thought.

"I'm going to the bathroom." Dawn announced as she left Willow alone to go into the bathroom connected to the room.

'Boredy, bored, bored, bored.' Thought Willow. She hated hospitals. Just simply because they were boring. She'd hate to work in one. 'And it all seemed like such go fun when me and Xander played doctors.' Willow rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. 'Maybe I'll have some exciting dreams' She thought hopefully.

"Miss. Willow Rosenberg?"

"Yeah?" Willow asked as she rolled over to face the English accent. The next thing she knew her vision was filled with a cloth descending over her mouth and nose, held on by the speaker. 'Chloroform!' Thought Willow as she descended into unconsciousness.

"By the order of the watchers' council of Britain…" That was all she heard, yet it was enough.

Marcus gave a wide grin as he watched the tests through the glass of the room and sipped on his coffee. The subject, whom fell unconscious about a minute ago, was restrained to an operating table while several shamans attempted to remove an essence of her power. They had tried a number of different techniques, though none of them had been successful. However, most of them were excruciating, at least for the subject, and that is what Marcus was taking his pleasure from. If he were honest, it was quite a turn on to be watching this beautiful specimen put through this torture. 'The longer it takes', he thought with a smirk, 'the better'.

All of a sudden the lights came down for a moment, before returning, dimmer than before.

"What the hell is that?" Marcus barked to the boy in the room with him, while motioning the shaman in the room on the other side to continue.

"Something has taken out the power, backup's online…but…" The man explained nervously

"But?" Marcus snapped angrily.

"Something has taken out all security." He gulped

"The shield?"

"Still operational. No unwarranted entity can get to the subject without incredible power." He reassured.

Marcus leaned into the boy and asked slowly. "How much power?"

He was lost for words; fortunately he didn't need any. The door flung upon and there, with his trench coat twisting around him in a magical wind, stood Giles. He strode into the room as Marcus jumped for his gun on the table. Before he could reach it, however, Giles raised his hand and called. "Scoodo!" A powerful blast of red energy ripped through the air and smashed into Marcus, blasting him through the glass and into the room where the shamans looked on, unable to think what to do. The young man, without thinking, charged at Giles, but before reaching him Giles flung one of his throwing knives into his stomach, incapacitating but not killing him. As long as someone gets him to the hospital quick enough.

He reached into his pocket, taking out the Goddess of the Slayer dagger, and walked up to the now broken window. Giles plunged the dagger through the window, penetrating the shield which had now become a visible blue force field surrounding the walls of the room Marcus, the shamans and the unconscious subject were in.

"El commonderro, entrati" Giles called. The blue force field was absorbed into the dagger in a manner of seconds.

Free of any security, Giles ducked through the shattered window just as Marcus got up in front of the table where the subject lie, shouting at the four shamans in the room. "Stop him!"

The four shamans chanted as one as Giles held out the dagger he still held from the shield in front of him. As the shamans finished their chants, a black energy shot at Giles. In the same moment, Giles called out to the dagger. "Reveruscari". The black energy was absorbed through the dagger, which then shot the energy back at the shamans, each of whom failed to get back up from the blasts.

Turning his focus on the now very scared Marcus in front of him, Giles put the dagger away and pulled out the samurai sword from behind his back.

"Who are you?" Marcus breathed in a shaky voice.

"I'm Ripper." With that, Giles sliced the blade across Marcus' chest, killing him in an instant. "And I'm ba…" Giles' quip trailed off when he noticed for the first time the Benevolent half restrained on the table.

"Good Lord." He breathed out, before cupping the cheek of the unconscious subject with his hand. "Tara…"

Giles allowed a couple of tears roll from his eyes as he gazed down upon the beautiful young woman that he once knew. Closing his eyes for a moment, composing himself and gulping down a sob that threatened to emerge, Giles kept his hand where it lay and spoke out the final incantation. "Discade." And with that, they both vanished from the room.

CHAPTER THREE INTO THE FIRE

Buffy slammed the payphone down, nearly breaking it in her frustration.

"No answer again, huh?" Xander guessed.

"Where the hell is he?" Buffy asked through clenched teeth. "Just when we need him he goes and gets himself a life!" Buffy kicked the wall, careful not to exert any real strength. While this saved the wall it did nothing to exhilarate Buffy's stress, so she contented herself with sitting in the chair and digging her nails into her scalp beside the sleeping Kennedy.

Seeing the state she was in, Xander squatted in front of Buffy, meeting her eyes with his own. "Buffy, level with me here. What's going on?" He asked with genuine curiosity and more than a bit of fear.

"Xander…" Buffy began to answer but, seeing Xander's own version of Willow's resolve face, she dropped her head. "That ring we found. I recognized it. It was the same the Master's minions wore. They were the…something of Aurelius." Buffy frowned.

"Aurelius!" Xander asked, recognizing it from what Willow said. "As in the same Aurelius guy the vamps that took Will were talking about?" At Buffy's nod, he probed further. "You think this has something to do with the…" He stopped, looking around briefly before leaning closer into his friend and whispering, "The Master?"

Buffy sighed her response. "I'm not sure. Giles seems to think even though it's the same cult they're probably not working for The Master anymore, what with him being dead and all."

"That'd make more sense." Xander nodded in agreement.

Buffy, wanting to underline her own fears, shook her head. "No. I'm getting some major wiggins here. I don't know what exactly but there's definitely something not good about all this."

"I'd say that's pretty much a given." Xander replied back as he glanced around the near empty waiting room, steering the conversation back to what was unnerving him most of all. "But what would anyone want with Willow?"

"BUFFY!" Dawn shrieked as she thundered into the waiting room, waking Kennedy doing so. "They've taken Willow!"

"Willow?" Kennedy asked

"Vampires?" Buffy inquired urgently.

"Watchers' council." Dawn shook her head as she struggled to get the words out. "They just took her…taking a plane to London…I heard through the door." Before Dawn was even finished Buffy and Kennedy were down the corridor.

"Buffy!" Xander called after her. When she stopped briefly he tossed her his keys before she ran off again.

"Keep calling Giles." She called over her shoulder as her and Kennedy passed the corner and out of sight.

"Hurry up." Mr. Richmond barked at his fellow councilmen. "Just fling the bitch in the plane." He instructed them as he gripped his pistol tightly and tried to reassure himself of his own safety by looking at the armed men surrounding the plane. The phone call he'd received informing him of the death of Mr. Williams and the subsequent theft of the Benevolent half had unnerved him. And pissed him off of course.

He turned back to the small plane to see two of his associates fling the still unconscious Power half into the plane before his attention was brought back around to the sound of a car thundering toward the plane he stood in front of at 90 mph.

Looking at the men around him, who were looking at each other for some clue as to how to act, Mr. Richmond roared at them "Don't just stand there, shoot the bastards!"

At his word they started shooting at the car, which once under heavy fire skidded to a halt, allowing Buffy and Kennedy to escape it, and come charging toward the plane, not caring about the men who were still shooting at them. Mr. Richmond instantly recognized Buffy from the council profiles, and could only assume, with the way she was dodging bullets, that the other was one of the so-called 'new generation' slayers.

As they got increasingly close without so much as a scratch, Mr. Richmond backed up into the plane, screaming out angrily to his inferiors, "Why can't any of you pricks shoot properly?" In all his panic, he forgot that he himself was holding a gun, which he was now gripping so tightly his fists were white.

Once they were close enough, Buffy and Kennedy were able to incapacitate the men in a manner of a few seconds. Mr. Richmond was in deep fear, knowing he had no chance against two slayers, when he noticed the girl lying beside him, and acted out of survival instinct alone.

"SLAYERS!" He shrieked out, grabbing the attention of Buffy and Kennedy and bringing them to a halt on their rampage. When they turned to him, they quickly realized they haven't much chance; Mr. Richmond had a gun held to Willow's head. "Now that I have your attention let us negotiate."

"I don't negotiate with bastards" Kennedy spat out.

"Kennedy…" Buffy warned as she held Kennedy back by the arm.

"Well maybe it's time you should." Mr. Richmond snapped back. "You and I would both rather have the Power half here alive." He said, nodding his head to Willow. "But if you are unable to let her come with us without any hassle I am more than prepared to put a bullet through the cow's face and run our tests on her corpse!"

"Power half?" Buffy asked to herself, barely audibly.

"He's bluffing." Growled Kennedy.

"He might not be." Warned Buffy. She knew from experience how ruthless the watchers' council could be.

Darting her eyes across the floor, Kennedy reached for one of the men she had just knocked to the ground and pulled him to his feet while simultaneously pulling the knife from her boot. "How about we start negotiating now, huh? You let her go and we don't kill every man here?" She challenged, ignoring the man's struggles.

Mr. Richmond kept his face in the same uninterested expression as he turned his gun away from Willow's head and shot the man Kennedy was holding three times in the chest in quick succession. Kennedy dropped the man when he went limp. Kennedy and Buffy watched in shock as the corpse hit the ground with a thud, and slowly turned their expressions back to Mr. Richmond. "I'll tell you what. If I can take her, I'll let you kill everyone here, everyone in this city, my wife and my kids. Cause nothing stops me from doing my job at one hundred and ten percent. And if my job is to cut up little girls," He spat, glaring at Willow's still sleeping face in his hand. "I'll make sure to keep the instruments sharp and the subject screaming."

Kennedy was once again held back by Buffy when she tried to make a run up at Mr. Richmond. "Ah, ah, ah." Mr. Richmond teased, directing the gun back at Willow's head and turned to face the pilot in the front of the plane. "Harry, get going." He turned back to the slayers as the propellers on the wings started spinning. "Don't worry girls." He called over the sound of the propellers. "I'll send you a Polaroid of what's left of her." He smirked as he slid the slide door closed.

Buffy and Kennedy watched silently and stationary as the plane maneuvered to the start of the runway before going at full speed and taking off into the night sky. Each were having one lone, raw emotion bubble up inside them, waiting to burst out; Kennedy was angry, Buffy was afraid. Kennedy was the first to explode, waving her arms about and stomping in anger. "Damn it!" She exclaimed. "Damn it!"

"Kennedy…" Buffy tried to choke out to calm the girl.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Kennedy roared, ignoring Buffy. "I'm gonna find the little bastard and rip his ugly head off! I'm gonna…" Kennedy stopped, lost for words and gasping as the anger took over her body. Unable to now express herself with words, Kennedy merely gave out a loud screech, an expression of undiluted rage and frustration.

Buffy however, failed to notice as a single tear spilled from her left eye and down her cheek.

"Willow…"

"RING, RING."

"Come on, come on…" Giles muttered into the mouthpiece.

"RING…hello?" Through the phone came a distinctively feminine, young voice, though understandably sleepy.

"Ah, Karen, there you are."

"Mr. Giles? It's 3 am." She stated obviously.

"Ah, yes, well I apologize for the time but we're in a spot of bother. I'm in town and quite…well quite out of raw power to be honest with you and we're in need of some protecting. I fear anything less than a slayer may fall short." Giles explained

"What are you doing Colchester?" Karen asked.

"It's the furthest I could teleport away from the watchers' council. Hopefully it will be enough. I'm er, I'm staying at the Swan Hotel. You should see it on your way to the Harvester."

"Wait, why can't you stay at my place?" Karen asked. "And I thought the watchers' council was gone?"

"Uh, evidently not. And with the resources they have they'll be able to find out where you live in no time at all. Add the range of my teleportation and the fact that I still keep in touch with the slayers and you're the first place they'll look." Giles explained, having thought it all through.

"Good point. I'll be there in about ten minutes." Karen reassured.

"Thank you Karen. And sorry ever so much for all this."

"Don't mention it."

When Giles heard the phone on the other end of the line hang up, he held the button on the phone for a couple of seconds before letting go. Hearing the dial tone, he began dialing again. While he listened to the ringing, praying that someone would answer, he leaned into the bedroom of the hotel room, and made out the outline of Tara sleeping soundly on the edge of the double bed, curled up in the fetal position beneath the covers. As he watched her shiver and frown in her sleep, he guessed it was a nightmare from the tests she endured at the hands of the council. Although he freed her before the worse ones could start, it sickened him to think of such vulnerable, loving woman being subjected to such things, especially after all she had been through, and everything that still can't be avoided. He made a vow to himself right there to do everything in his power to spare her anymore pain.

"Right, we check our messages first, try again for Giles then check the flight times to England." Buffy explained to Xander, Kennedy and Dawn as Dawn opened the door to their house. "We're getting the first plane over there and rescuing Willow from those…"

"PHONE!" Dawn interrupted with a yell when she heard the ringing as she opened the door, already running toward the object itself. "Hello?"

"Dawn?" Giles' voice came over like a beacon of light to Dawn.

"GILES!!!" Dawn screeched. Before she could get another word in, the phone was wrestled out of her hand by Buffy. "Hey!" She protested, going unnoticed by her sister.

"Giles? Where the hell have you been? We've been calling you for hours." Buffy snapped angrily.

"I'm not at home, Buffy." Giles explained, suddenly finding fear quell up in his stomach at the urgency of Buffy's voice. "Things have taken a dramatic turn."

"Not more dramatic than over here I'll bet." Buffy scoffed.

After taking a glance to the door to the bedroom, Giles turned his attention back to the phone. "How much are you willing to wager on that?"

Buffy ignored his comment and got straight to the crux of her concerns. "Giles, your ex-employers have taken Willow and have her on a plane to London."

"The council have Willow?" Giles wanted to double check; if it were true the situation had turned even worse.

"The same council that the First supposedly got rid of." Buffy confirmed. "They took her, a few hours after Willow was in the center of an explosion that should've left her in pieces." Buffy instantly regretted her choice of words when she felt her stomach churn and her memory take her back to what the man from the watchers' council said.

"Good Lord, is she alright?" Giles gasped.

"Not a scratch." Buffy told him. "But she said someone was blocking her powers and she had no where near enough to survive, let alone be in mint condition."

"I shouldn't imagine she'd have enough even if she weren't blocked."

"Giles, this isn't the worst thing. The council called her the Power half or something like that, and the explosion was courtesy of those harmless Aurelius vamps I mentioned earlier." Buffy informed.

Giles felt his heart sink with every word Buffy said. His instincts soon took over and he formulated a plan. "Buffy, I want you all to get to the travel agents."

"I'm on it," Buffy assured him. "but it could be days before I get to England."

"You're not going to England," Giles stressed, predicting the response he was likely to get. "You're going to Los Angeles."

"Wha-?" Buffy began to question, but was interrupted by Giles.

"Stay with Angel and contact every and any slayer you can and tell them to get there, I'll do the same. Watch your back until Willow and I get there." He avoided mentioning Tara, figuring it wasn't the time, and she had to be seen to believed. Heck, he'd seen her and he still didn't quite believe it. "I'll get her back Buffy, I swear to you. I'll call you as soon as she's safe and get on the next flight over there."

Buffy, having listened to Giles' words and sensing the fear, urgency and dread behind them realized that this is probably bigger than even she feared. "Giles, what's going on?" She asked, her voice quiet and shaking.

"Buffy, there's something I could tell you, but you need to see it." Giles breathed out. "This is bigger than one slayer, even you. We need everyone in one place. Can I trust you to do that?"

"You can." Buffy resolved, pushing her chin up proudly and promising herself to beat whatever's coming. "But as soon as you get here, no matter how ugly, you tell me everything, understood? Whatever the bad guy is, it's coming after Willow and I don't know who it'll come after next."

"Just watch them, all of them, yourself included. I'll tell you everything I know." Giles told her genuinely. Now wasn't the time to have divisions in the ranks.

"You better. Good luck." Buffy breathed out. There were very few she would trust to do such a thing. Despite having no supernatural powers, other than a bit of magic, and going behind her back over Spike and the First, Giles was still one of them.

"You too." Giles returned, before hanging up the phone.

Edgar shifted nervously, watching his master as he stared into the night sky through the windows that covered the far wall of the large chamber.

"What is it?" Lucius asked, not bothering to turn.

"Everything is in place, my Lord." Edgar gulped nervously.

"He completed the task already?" Lucius asked, a surprised smile creeping onto his face,

"Single handed." Edgar confirmed.

Lucius chuckled maniacally to himself, shaking his head as an expression of his surprise. "I have to admit I underestimated him."

"Also sir," Edgar continued cautiously. "we really should be moving if we hope to have the goddess as one again."

Lucius frowned at this, turning to face his subject for the first time. "We?" He asked. "Since when is it 'we'?"

Edgar shifted nervously. "I-I-I only meant…" he trailed off, not sure what he meant.

Lucius smiled as he began his slow walk toward the minion. "I know what you meant, my friend. You are concerned for me and my cause." Lucius stood mere inches from Edgar, piercing him with his stare. He then lifted his hand and caressed Edgar's cheek. "You are a great rarity, Edgar." Lucius complimented, using his minion's name for the first time. "Such determination for our noble cause. It comes only in a great while."

Edgar sighed, feeling honored by having been given such compliments and intimacy from Aurelius himself. And best yet, the Lord had used his name. Such was a feat not to be taken lightly.

Lucius sighed before continuing onto what he was getting at, "I'm going to have to find someone with such qualities in the true breeds. It will be difficult to replace you."

It took a second for it to sink in, and when it did, Edgar felt it needed confirming. "My Lo-" He suddenly felt his words cut off when Lucius' caresses turned into a vice grip on his jaw, eliciting crackling sounds around his fingers and sparks of intense pain throughout Edgar's face.

Taking a look around the walls of his chamber, Lucius began again. "I've noticed you've taken a fancy to my collection of blades." With this, every axe, knife, dagger, throwing star and sword floated from their place on the walls, each one individually spinning, doing a dance of its own accord in mid air. "Why don't I leave you two alone and you can get better acquainted."

He started walking toward the double doors in front of him, casually tossing Edgar over his shoulder and into the middle of the room as he went. Once he had reached the doors he pulled them open and stepped out, turning to face the room once more and leaning one arm on each door.

Edgar knelt in the center of the room, nursing his jaw in one hand and holding his other out as plea to Lucius while glancing around at the blades around him which continued dancing in their place, anxious to strike. He was shaking violently in fear, which was a large rarity in vampires. "Please…my Lord…"

"Goodbye, Edgar." Lucius pushed the doors closed, relishing Edgar's wide eyed fear. Once the doors were closed he leaned his head against them, and grinned wider as heard shrieking and shouting, followed by the unmistakable sound (to him, anyway) of a blade tearing through flesh, and blood gushing from wounds, followed by more shrieks-only now they were ten times louder. He thanked the beings in Hell for his hearing, which was far superior even for than a fellow vampire. 'However,' he reminded himself, 'you're not just a vampire; not anymore. You are what you should be. You are once again what you were.'

With a smile at the continuing sounds of horror behind him, Lucius strolled/skipped down the hallway, spotting the pale faced (even more than usual) vampire who guarded the chamber on his way. "Send a cleaner in there in about ten minutes, would you?" He told more than asked with a wide grin. The vampire could only nod in response.

Karen stared at the sleeping figure in the bed for a few seconds, before turning to the sound of the bathroom door opening and Giles rushing out busily. "Mr. Giles, hey." She alerted him.

Giles jumped slightly before glancing back at the front door while he slipped on his jacket. "I've really got to get into the habit of locking doors."

"So," Karen begun, glancing back at the sleeping blonde. "She's cute. A little young for you though, isn't she?"

"Hmm?" Giles regarded the petite brunette before catching her drift. "Oh, no. Believe me, I'm most definitely not her type." Giles explained "I also plan to keep my skin." He muttered as an afterthought.

"What?" Karen asked, not quite understanding what he was talking about or why they were here. 'And did I hear something about skin?' she asked herself. "Who-or what-is she?" She asked him seriously.

Glancing over her shoulder, Giles suddenly realized how much he wished he knew. "I don't know." He muttered, before staring into her eyes a seeing utter confusion there. "But I'm almost certain she's not a danger."

"Almost certain?" Karen asked, not liking the first half of that phrase.

"Karen, I don't have time to get into this now," Giles explained. "But she is vulnerable, and people are out to hurt her. Now you must promise me that while I'm gone you will not let any harm come to her. If anyone comes by run, fight if you have to but get away. Don't let them take her." Giles underlined.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Karen breathed out, holding her hands out and trying to figure what on earth the girl could be to worry Mr. Giles so much. "Where will you be?"

"I shan't be long." Giles assured her as he moved toward the front door. "Hopefully little more than a few hours." With a glance back at the bedroom door, Giles added, "If she wakes up, she'll probably be wondering where she is. Get her anything she needs, and tell her Mr. Giles will explain everything when he returns. That's all." Giles underlined, affectionately remembering Tara's mannerism of being the only Scooby member to call him 'Mr. Giles'

Somewhat hesitantly, Karen agreed. "Okay; no questions, right?" She guessed.

With a small smile, Giles nodded to his guest. "Precisely." He picked up two pistols, pocketing them and then lifted a bag onto the table, checking its contents. 'I'm getting a strange sense of kamikaze-like deja-vu.' Giles thought.

Not being able to resist, Karen tiptoed closer to Giles to peer into the bag, shocked to find it housed an array of knives, a sword and even a double edged axe. 'Whatever this is, it's big' Karen realized. "Mr. Giles?" She begun, shifting her gaze up to look him in the eye. "Are you sure you don't want me to do this while you look after the girl?"

Zipping and lifting up the bag onto his shoulder, Giles answered her. "I'm afraid I must be the one to do this, I made a promise." Giles opened the door.

"Who to?"

Stopping to look back at her, Giles thought about his answer for a second before settling. "My daughter."

Karen frowned slightly, finding it hard to believe that she hadn't known Mr. Giles had a daughter. Deciding now was not the time to quiz him on the matter, she broke that frown into a soft smile, which was returned by Giles. "Good luck." She whispered softly before turning away, finding the eye contact to intense.

"You too." Giles whispered by, repeating his earlier wording from his conversation with Buffy.

When Karen turned back to face Giles, he was already gone, the door closed behind him.

"We're what?!" Kennedy asked, not quite believing her ears.

"We're going to LA." Buffy explained to the group. Dawn sat on the sofa while Kennedy and Xander stood side by side beside it, with Buffy opposite them. "I've booked all of us a flight for tomorrow. Rona too."

"Buffy, they took Willow to London." Dawn reminded her sister, thinking she may have momentarily forgotten.

"And besides, why the hell would we leave New York slayer-less?" Kennedy asked, once again questioning Buffy's decision making skills.

"I'm following Giles' orders. He told us to head to LA and he'll save Willow and join us ASAP." Buffy explained

"He's gonna rescue Will?" Kennedy scoffed. "Alone?"

Xander decided it was time to speak up, worried about the welfare of his two friends. "Buff, I have to agree it'll be dangerous for Giles. If two slayers cant get Will back how well can a middle aged, stuffy ex-librarian do?"

"Well, he fought black-magic Willow." Buffy countered. "Besides, we can't get there before they do and by then it'll be too late anyway. Giles told us to just head to LA and round up all the slayers."

The rest of the group were stunned by this final sentence, the same question running through everyone's minds; 'What would they need all the slayers for?'

Xander felt the sentence needed confirming. "All the slayers?"

"What for?" Kennedy asked, her brow furrowed.

"I…" Buffy began, but lost the words quickly as she realized she didn't know herself.

"Buffy?" Dawn asked, trying to offer support to her sister, while begging for the same in return.

Grabbing eye contact with her sister, trying to give her a reassured glance, Buffy started again. "I'm not sure. But Gilles is freaked and he's not the only one. There are major players here."

"Order of Aurelius," Xander began the list, receiving a gaze from Buffy.

"The watchers' council," Dawn continued, staring into space.

"Willow." Kennedy added pointedly, scowling as she did so.

Buffy noticed Kennedy's stare and faced her head on. "You're right." She admitted, before breaking off contact and glancing between all three of them. "And they're just the ones we know of. Add the fact that the vamps said something about a Goddess…"

"And we're talking something biblical." Xander finished off.

"Something biblically bad." Buffy corrected. "But Giles seems to be the plan guy, which is miles ahead of us, plus I'm not exactly hating the idea of backup."

The other three looked at each other. Xander and Dawn had already made up their minds, and Kennedy finally caved. "Fine." She threw her arms in the air. "But tell your watcher, I want that bastard on the plane to suffer."

"Oh, sweet Jesus…"

Giles had been witness to many stomach churning in his time, but had seldom seen a sight of such horror in all his years on this earth.

The abandoned runway-which Giles correctly guessed the new council were also using-had been the scene of a massacre. The plane was now an unrecognizable pile of flaming wreckage lighting the night sky, surrounded by smaller but no less fierce fires, which Giles could only guess were from the plane's fuel. At the time when the plane landed, there must've been around ten councilmen-or women, he couldn't tell-on the runway, and probably no civilians, as per usual for council business. The runway was covered in blood, and each…corpse (for lack of a better word) had been killed in a different way. One was still attached to his intestines, which lead about ten meters away into the burning wreckage. Another had a propeller blade through his face, and was hanging from it, while the flames lapped at his skin. Many were just burnt. Most had some kind of limb, organ or a large section of skin removed. For a moment he thought he saw one in the flames move. His hopeful brain told him he was being paranoid. His rational brain said otherwise.

He held a handkerchief to his mouth in an attempt to stop his gagging. The worse fact, however, was that he would have to inspect each of them to ensure that none of them were Willow.

"WILLOW." Giles screamed at the top of his lungs, praying she answered. He didn't know which thought unsettled him more; the idea that whatever had did this (which was more than likely after Willow) had found her and killed her, or that it found her and took her. But he knew if he were to find Willow's body in the same state as the ones around him, he wouldn't be able to keep the vomit from escaping his stomach. While the sight before him was disgusting, to Giles they were still just faceless corpses (in some cases literally), but seeing a loved one like that makes it all the more real. Especially Willow, who, like Buffy and the others, he thinks of much like a child of his.

"WILLOW." He tired again, desperate for results. When all he got back was silence, he began moving through the carnage, scanning the bodies but not dwelling on them to avoid further nausea. With each step he took things seemed to get worse, until he stumbled upon a note on the floor written in blood and…parts.

'THE TOWER'

Giles directed his attention to the runway tower in front of him and sprinted up towards it. Once he reached the door, he pulled the axe from his bag and dropped the rest just in case whatever did this was up there. He favored it over the pistols, thinking this to be a monster of such carnage that bullets would prove ineffective. Though he still kept them on him, should he be mistaken.

As Giles ascended the stairs of the tower in almost complete darkness he found himself almost stumbling twice over bodies left on the staircase, and thanked God he couldn't see the corpses themselves, especially when the step over the second one gave out a squishing noise. Upon reaching the door he gripped the axe tighter, kicked the door open, and gasped at what he saw before him…

CHAPTER FOUR HEAVEN AND HELL

Upon reaching the door he gripped the axe tighter, kicked the door open, and gasped at what he saw before him…

He had prepared himself for anything; mutated corpses filling the room, a hideous creature from the pits of Hell bearing down on him, even Willow's corpse-and for a second that's what he thought he had-but what he did see shocked him.

Willow. In the center of the room. With the unmistakable rise and fall of her chest that came only with the living.

"Willow…" He breathed out, letting his defenses drop as he rushed over to her and checked she was okay. He became fearful upon noticing her unconsciousness, but once he found no marks, resolved that it must've been a result of the watchers' councils' kidnapping technique; they'd need her under heavy inoculations to prevent her magic use.

With reassurance that she was fine, he picked her up in both arms, her light frame making her easy to carry, only to almost drop her again when he turned around.

Nailed to the right of the door was the corpse of slim man, with a scalp of gray, thinning hair. 'Compared to the mutilations everywhere else, this man, this…Mr. Richmond, has been given an extremely merciful death' thought Giles, as he glanced at the man's name tag. As a matter of fact, once you look at the corpse more closely you cannot even notice his cause of death-despite being nailed to the wall with his arms spread, an homage to Jesus Christ's crucifixion-the fact that very little blood poured from where the nails pierced his skin suggested that when the body was put up, it was already dead, and drained of blood. This point struck a particular cord with Giles, being used to such deaths. Setting Willow gently to the ground once again, he peered closer to the body, more specifically his neck, and what he saw he both expected and least expected. Two deep, punctury scratches, as his unconscious companion would put it. A vampire. What's more, a single vampire. These were the only bites on the body. While the lack of blood meant this made sense, what about the carnage outside? That was almost certainly not brought on by vampires, let alone a single vampire. These were not ordinary victims, after all, this was the watchers' council, and almost anything would have no chance. But outside, that was brought on by something with relevant ease, and there was no evidence of a vamp attack. So why this one? Only one idea sprung to Giles' mind as to why this victim was so 'lucky', yet this too made little sense. However, Giles did not like to risk chances, and so, gripping his axe harder, gave a powerful, horizontal swing right into-and through-Mr. Richmond's neck, and consequently into the wall behind, allowing the head to bounce about the floor, coming to a stop inches away from Willow's own face. Much like a kid would kick a coke can in the street, Giles kicked the head away from his friend's face and lifted her back into his arms, carrying her out of the room and out of the building, being cautious of the bodies still littering the stairs.

As he carried Willow back across the runway, Giles decided to take extra care for Willow's well being, fearful that whatever did this would still be about, and decided to go around the carnage rather than opting for the shorter route through it like he had earlier. After all, he now had no reason to inspect the destruction; he had Willow, and the identity of the beast that did this was definitely inconclusive. Also, it was possible for Willow to wake up at any moment, and he didn't want this to be the first thing she saw. She had been through more than her fair share in just 24 hours. From what Buffy had told him of her resurrection, the scene she was confronted with was not entirely different than this one, and she had thought she was in Hell. He didn't wish that on anyone, certainly not Buffy nor Willow.

It took twice as long as it could've, but Giles was still satisfied when he reached his car. After carefully lying Willow across the backseat, Giles glanced back at the sickening Hell before him. 'Hell. That's precisely the word for it.' Thought Giles. He glanced at the night sky, which in a couple of hours would finally become sunrise, and was amazed at it's beauty. Far away from any artificial light, he was given an clear view of the stars, and it looked well and truly magnificent. It gave Giles hope after what he'd just witnessed, reminding him that such sights still existed in this world. Giles saw a certain grotesque twist to this sickening sight being beneath such beauty, much like Heaven and Hell, two great opposites, each tainting the other, and between them lying the Earth; a world controlled by a species of equal parts good and evil. But as he thought back to Tara, he realized how wrong this was; she had absolutely no evil in her. However, the world is made up of balances; for every plus there is a minus, and he shuddered to think where all the evil that abandoned Tara went. 'No doubt, this is the result of it' Thought Giles. Deciding he'd had enough of the runway, Giles got into the car and drove away.

On the way, he thought about the success of his mission. On the one hand, he had indeed been successful; he'd saved Willow, and he hadn't even had to kill (unless counting what may have been a yet to awakened vampire). On the other hand, he'd been too late, after all he'd have never done such damage, and by being late he'd allowed many to die in the worst way imaginable, and enemy or not they are still human. Worse than that though, whatever had done this obviously had an interest in Willow, but for whatever reason had left her alive for someone to find, and there was every reason to believe that Giles himself was that someone.

'Why do I suddenly feel like chicken being led to KFC?'

"Don't you wankers ever quit?!"

Spike's question was answered when yet another black van came skidding across in front of him. It was Spike's vampire reflexes that saved him, his instincts kicking in in a split second and making him steer his motorbike past the van. As it happened, one of his pursuers had less luck.

"Serves you right, git." Spike quipped, glancing back. However, he still had three motorbikes bearing down after him, and they were much faster than him. 'What do these bastards want?' thought Spike. Who they were was easy enough to guess. Wolfram and Hart. They'd pissed him off on more than one occasion since coming to LA, but they'd never gone through this much trouble to take care of him. They were after him. Now though was not the time to think of what made them decide to go after him in such force, and Spike was smart enough to realize that. He needed to lose them. He made a quick turn into an alleyway, and wasn't surprised when they followed. He was hoping there might be a few vamps there wanting a late night snack that the bikers could run into, but alas he found only rubbish. And a metal pole sticking out of a dumpster. 'Could be useful'. As he passed, he snatched it up and checked his mirror; the one on his left was right behind him. He left the alley, driving straight across the street into the alley opposite, and moved right in front of the bike behind him-literally inches apart. With all his strength, Spike slammed the pole into the wall on his left, embedding it into the wall and consequently pushing himself to the right. The bike behind him, however, hadn't time to move, and crashed straight into the pole, knocking the rider clean off his bike. Having moved to the right, Spike realized two things. First, that the next bike was little more than a few meters directly behind him. Secondly, he was nearing the end of the alley, which if he wasn't mistaken also meant he was nearing a brick wall. Something has to be done-QUICK! Noticing the raised fire escape ladder up ahead, Spike readied himself before making a well timed jump, resulting in him hanging off the bottom bar and his legs dangling down-right in front of the rider's face. The rider smacked into Spike's boots and, despite staying on his bike initially, soon skidded the bike on it's side and rolled off it. The force of the impact made Spike's entire body swing forward, and Spike himself pull on the bars he was holding. Spike was shocked to feel himself falling, and soon realized he was pulling the ladder down. When he reached the ground, Spike could hear the roar of the last bike behind him all too well. When he turned around, he saw the last bike less than a second away from smashing into himself and the ladder. With his vampire strength and reactions he jumped clean over the biker as he smashed into the ladder, leaving him and his bike in a crumpled heap on the floor and Spike the only one left on his feet.

Realizing that it had been about ten seconds since he incapacitated the first of the riders in the alley, and they could get up and cause him grief at any moment, Spike grudgingly came to the quick decision to ask for Angel's help. Him and his team had more experience with Wolfram and Hart than Spike did; as a matter of fact up until recently they even worked for the law firm, and hence may have insider knowledge. Besides, Angel investigations' estrangement from Wolfram and Hart led the firm back to it's trying to kill Angel ways, which meant any ways they could attack the law firm would be just as useful to them as him.

Resolved, Spike ran several feet to where his bike had fallen and turned it around, facing back the way he came. He thought about stealing one of the Wolfram and Hart bikes, but figured it was more than likely that they would have a tracer or something, and he did not like tracers. Besides, he liked his bike. Sure, it wasn't as fast as others, but it gave him a certain feeling, plus he'd been through a lot with it, despite it not being the bike he'd had in Sunnydale. That bike, the one he'd stolen from the hellions the night Buffy was resurrected, was later destroyed, along with Sunnydale and Spike himself. However, when Spike realized this following his own resurrection-the details of which were still as of yet unknown-he hunted down the hellion group, finding them not far from San Francisco, and stole yet another of their bikes. He just liked them.

Racing back across the near deserted night streets of LA, Spike's mind once again were brought back to his resurrection, and those first three months…

Los Angeles, 2003

The last three months were eerily similar to the few hours he'd spent in the Initiative. Although at least that'd been easy enough to escape from, and he weren't shackled to a wall. Plus they'd never gone so far as to actually do anything to him. He couldn't say the same for where he was now. They'd put him through hell, literally torturing him. They made what they wanted perfectly clear-the amulet. They said they expected him to have it on him when he came back, but clearly he hadn't. It was when they had said this that Spike became enraged. 'When I came back' he thought. 'They knew the person who wore the amulet would come back. Yet the bastards wont tell me why!' Spike made several attempts to find out, and soon struck up a deal: Spike tells them precisely what happened when the Hellmouth was destroyed, and they tell him why he's back.

Once Spike had told them what happened, which was the truth, they told him what he wanted to know. They told him that the amulet was prophesized to be the weapon pivotal to besting the First and closing the Hellmouth. However, once it had fulfilled this prophecy, it would have a far greater purpose; one of three ingredients in a ritual for harnessing the power of the First. So once the amulet was used, the wearer would reappear with it, so it may be used this way. However, as it would seem, it hadn't quite worked out that way, and they wanted to find out where the amulet was.

This was all after less than a month, and when they still couldn't find the amulet, they decided the vampire must still either be lying or have it somewhere on himself. So they'd tortured him, forced him to tell them again and again what happened and searched him everywhere. 'And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere' thought Spike with a shudder. They'd looked up every opening on his body, and where there wasn't one, they created one. And still they found nothing.

It had now been three months, and this was still all Spike knew. That, and that he was in a lot of pain. He still didn't know where he was, who had him, or how Buffy and Sunnydale was.

He raised his head at the sound of the door opening, and saw five suits make their way into the room, lined up in a row. The one in the middle was the one who actually spoke.

"Hello, Spike." He began. "I trust your well today?"

Spike smirked as best as he could. However much pain he may be in, it was impossible for him to ignore the chance to be sarcastic. "I'm just peachy. Brought some new curtains for me cell. Thinking of maybe having a window put in, you know?"

The man gave a small smile before proceeding. "I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, seeing as you are having a good day, maybe you'll be more cooperative today."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Spike returned, "But my cooperative nature tends to get shadowed but my ripping off your bollocks side."

This wiped the smile off the man's face. Unfortunately for Spike, he intended to do the same to him. Pulling out a long electrode he had hidden behind him, he then forced it into Spike, pushing it against the vampire for a full five seconds, watching him flail about in agony at the shock of the extremely high voltage before pulling away. With a nod to his associates, he watched as the now near unconscious Spike was carried out the door, and followed them out.

Spike watched with a hazy vision as he was dragged along the corridor. This corridor was also like the Initiative; it was mostly white, and by the lack of windows he would guess also underground. A dark figure was moving toward them, not caring for the stark contrast they were creating with their surroundings. As Spike focused more on the figure he felt something-power-magic power, to be precise. And what's more…it wasn't human…

The man who was leading Spike also noticed the figure moving toward them, but was not so perceptive as his vampire hostage. However, the fact that this figure had a black cloak on did more than enough to alert him of the figure's presence. "Excuse me," he began once he reached the figure, "but do you have the authorization to…"

The man's question was cut short when the figure lifted it's head to reveal scaly skin and pitch black eyes. Before he could reach for his electrode the man was flung back several feet by the demon's telekinesis, along with everyone holding Spike. Without the help, Spike wobbled, barely managing to keep himself upright.

"Bind!" The creature hissed, binding Spike into a crouching position. He leaned into the vampire, not noticing the guards behind him until he heard the gun shots. One of the bullets shot through the creature's torso, not killing him, but diverting his attention and breaking the binding on Spike.

Seeing his chance for escape, Spike got his second wind and darted away from the creature and the security guards. The pain was unbearable, his vision was still misty and everywhere he went there were more guards waiting to take him down, but he knew he was making progress by the number of stairs he was climbing. Once at the top of the fifth set of stairs, Spike realized that his surroundings no longer resembled a science lab, rather an office building!

Nonetheless, Spike was pleased with the change of scenery, as offices meant windows. Opening another door he was presented with a huge room, which was obviously the lobby. Alarms were sounding all around him, but the guards seemed to have their own worries-namely the battle going on in this room!

There were a few demons and magic users, but this was mostly a battle of guns, and Spike had know idea who to route for, or even who was on what team. As a matter of fact, he didn't know who the teams were! He read off the large sign over reception. 'Wolfram and Hart'. He'd heard of them from other demons-a law firm for the forces of darkness. Spike had no idea what they wanted him for, but when several of the fighters in the lobby, upon noticing Spike, tried to grab him, he concluded that they weren't the only ones.

Spike made a dash toward the entrance-it may be daytime, but there was still a hell of a lot more chance of surviving out there than in here. Dodging fists, feet, bullets and bolts of magic weren't easy, but eventually he came crashing through the doors into the outside world, and kept on going as fast as his legs would take him until he reached the shade of an alleyway. Relieved to see a sewer opening, Spike jumped in and kept running as far away as he could.

Colchester, 2004

Karen clutched the kitchen knife hard. She didn't know what all this is about, but she knew that since finding out she'd been activated as a slayer via some kind of spell, and that demons, vampires and gods are real two years ago, she'd been put through a roller coaster ride. But Mr. Giles was the man she could always rely on, and if he told her to protect this girl, she'd do it.

However, her virtue didn't help her better judgment, and she was still juggling whether or not to answer the banging at the door. On the one hand, if it were Giles, surely he'd tell her, and it could be the watchers or someone else. However, maybe it was Giles and he was hiding from the watchers. Deciding to go with her gut, she swung the door open and swung the knife up, ready to attack…

Giles.

"Karen." Giles breathed out. "Dear God, I thought the council had already found us." He said as he carried Willow into the hotel room and into the bedroom that Tara wasn't occupying.

Karen closed the door, talking as she followed him into the bedroom. "Well you could've told me, or used your own keys. I thought it was a demon or the council or something."

"I couldn't have opened the door while holding Willow and shouting through a door in a hotel is frowned upon at four-thirty in the morning." Giles explained as he set Willow down on the bed. "There we go." He spoke softly to the redhead. "Oh, and demons rarely knock. Nor the council, for that matter."

"Duly noted." Karen nodded, her attention on the sleeping redhead on the bed. "So who is this Willow?" Karen questioned, frowning. "And is she gonna be okay?"

"Yes. And I believe so."

"Is there a reason we're not putting her with the blonde girl?" Karen questioned, noticing as Giles walked in his avoidance of the room.

"Tara." He corrected, sighing. "Did she wake up?"

"No." Karen shook her head, figuring he was avoiding her question. "So is there a reason?" She pushed. "Are they both unconscious for the same reasons."

"Uh, no." Giles cleared his throat, his eyes still firmly on the rise and fall of Willow's breathing "Probably not, anyway. They were both kidnapped-in a sense-by the council, but I believe Tara fell unconscious due to a type of attempted magical extraction, while with Willow they were just keeping her from fighting back." Giles explained, trying to avoid the other question, realizing it will bring about more questions. "And yes, there is an extremely good reason why I'd rather they not see each other until I have an explanation."

Karen frowned again, her patience finally ending. "For what? Giles, what is going on here?"

Giles turned to face Karen, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You should get some sleep. I will stand guard."

Looking him straight in the eye, Karen shrugged off his hand, wanting an explanation. "No you don't, I'm not sleeping at all until I get an explanation. Besides, with all you've been through it sounds like you need to sleep more than me."

"Believe me, after what I've seen it'll be a long while before I can sleep soundly again." He explained, rubbing his eyes and realizing how right he was. When his sight was clear again, he saw Karen staring back at him and realized she both demanded and deserved an explanation. "Put on the kettle while I phone Buffy."

"Giles?"

"She's safe."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, which was followed by three more by the audience around her when she made an OK with her hand. "Thank God. How is she?"

"She's been unconscious since I found her but other than that I count ten fingers and toes, a head, four limbs, a torso and no marks. I presume her state was just precautions from the council against her attacking." Giles reassured.

"Makes sense." Buffy nodded, despite the action's futility. "How about you?"

Giles cleared his throat before going on. "I'm fine. I…I didn't even have to attack."

"What?" Buffy frowned. "Then what'd you do? Walk up to them with a convincing looking moustache and top hat and ask if you could borrow their redhead?"

"I arrived and…" Giles hesitated before continuing. "It was like Hell Buffy. Willow was the only one to survive. The rest…they were ripped apart."

"You said Willow wasn't even hurt." Buffy demanded, unable to keep an accusing tone from her voice, and bringing the audience back to close attention.

"She is, Buffy." Giles assured as quickly as his mouth would allow. "That's the thing, whatever attacked the council, they left Willow well alone. As a matter of fact, they left her safe from any danger while they finished up their…grotesque art."

"Why?" Buffy asked. "Giles, what did this?"

"I-I honestly don't know, Buffy."

"Giles, I should get down there." Buffy reasoned. "Protect you until you can get a plane to LA."

"Buffy," Giles sighed. "I have a plane booked for the day after tomorrow. I'd be gone before you get here. Plus, there are slayers here in England. One right here with me."

"You sure?" Buffy checked.

"Just stick to what I said. Get to LA and gather all slayers that you can." Giles instructed.

Sensing the undertone, Buffy probed hesitantly. "Giles, what's happened?" When Giles didn't answer, Buffy found her patience wane. "Giles, tell me."

Giles sighed, debating what to do. On the one hand, Buffy would almost certainly find out sooner or later. However, it wouldn't be fair to alert everyone without first consulting Willow and, of course, Tara herself. "I'm sorry Buffy, it wouldn't be fair to tell you. Not yet."

"Fair to who?" Buffy demanded.

"Buffy, please?" Giles pleaded. "I promise you, you're not being kept in the dark anymore than anyone else. I'm the only one who knows about it, and I believe it'd be best if it stay that way until we reach LA." Giles explained. "Please, just stay patient."

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

"Come in."

Wesley shuffled in nervously, pleased to see that Angel was engaged in his sketch of a demon he encountered earlier in the night.

"Er…how is that sketch coming along?" He asked, skirting around the real issue.

"I swear, some demons have faces that cannot be drawn." Angel frowned in frustration.

"Well, I haven't found anything based on your descriptions…are you sure he was just targeting you. No civilians?" Wesley asked.

"You didn't come in here to tell me that, did you Wes?" Angel asked, not looking up from his drawing.

"Sorry?" Wesley asked oh-so-innocently.

"What is it, Wes?" Angel asked, having had enough of playing Wesley's game.

"We just received a phone call." Wesley explained hesitantly. Deciding it was best to get it done with, he jumped in. "Buffy."

Finally Angel stopped to look up. "Is she okay?" He asked, a tint of fear creeping into his voice.

"She's coming to LA. I said she could stay here." Wesley explained.

Angel's eyes widened. Whatever it was, he was fairly certain the visit wouldn't just be social. "Why?"

Wesley opened his mouth to speak, but no words were given time to escape his throat before Cordelia burst into the room urgently. "You guys gotta come out here." With that she left, with Wesley and Angel eagerly behind her.

Angel knew what it was before he saw it. The second he was out of the office he could smell the cigarette smoke. Sure enough, leaned against the pillar on the staircase smoking stood Spike. Gunn, holding an axe in his hand, Fred, with a crossbow, and Lorne, behind the counter, were already there.

"Howdy, gel-head." Spike greeted him in his own way. "You may want to advise your employees on their people skills." Spike mentioned, nodding over to Fred and Gunn.

"Last I checked, you ain't people." Gunn challenged.

"What is it this time, Spike? We're busy?" Angel demanded.

"Well you can watch teletubbies later. I'm here for business." Spike explained. "Those lawyer buggers. Sent a bunch of assassins after me, and I just escaped. How do you explain that?"

"They were unlucky?" Cordelia quipped.

Ignoring Cordelia's comment, Spike went on. "They've never packed so much heat on me before. Plus the word is there are some very unpleasant nasties on their way. I'd say team Angel's got itself a spot of bother."

"Erm." Lorne spoke up, grabbing attention away from Spike. "I hate to side Mr. Idol, but he's not the only one who's been hearing things. Apparently something's coming that's gonna make Cher look like a beauty queen."

Spike frowned at the demon's analogy for a moment before continuing. "Greenie's hit it on the nail. Add to that the fact that Wolfram and Hart aside, the world seems to want to cut me up and see what they can find this week."

"Can't say I blame them." Fred mused, gaining a glare from Spike.

"Who?" Wesley inquired.

"Well," Spike thought, thinking of the one giving him the most grief. "among others, a tough old demon blighter with a fancy for sharp edges."

This peaked Angel's interest. "What'd it look like?"

Before Spike answered, a roar erupted from the balcony above them. Standing there was a seven foot, blue demon with large fangs going over it's mouth and long, dark hair going halfway down it's body. It wore brown fighting garb, covering the demon's strong body. In the last week it'd already attacked Spike and Angel.

"A lot like that." Spike answered.

The demon jumped from the balcony to the ground floor and pulled out two swords from behind him. Gunn was the first to respond, charging at the demon with his axe. The demon blocked Gunn's attack with one sword, knocking the blade to the side, and then kicking Gunn back towards Fred. Having just dodged Gunn's flying body, Fred shot the crossbow at the demon, but it the demon didn't even notice, it's attention resting firmly on Spike. Spike had pulled out a broad sword from his jacket and jumped into battle with the demon, faring much better than Gunn, but still not exactly besting the demon.

Gunn scrambled to the weapons cabinet and threw a sword to Angel. "Angel, here."

Angel caught the sword, giving it a quick spin before joining Spike. Despite being outnumbered, demon was holding it's own tremendously well, going for decapitating blows to Spike and Angel whenever it could. Wesley, having made his way to the weapons cabinet, picked up a few throwing knives and threw the first at the demon, embedding it in the demon's left eye, sending it stumbling backwards with a shriek.

Once the demon had recovered, the first thing it saw was Spike's sword going straight for his neck. The demon, sensing victory was out of reach for today, ducked under the blade and ran toward Fred, it's swords drawn. Just before it reached Fred, who had her eyes wide with fear, it jumped over her and onto the balcony above, running along it and out of sight.

"You poof!" Spike exclaimed in frustration.

Gunn rushed up to Fred's side, worried about his former girlfriend. "You alright."

"Yeah." Fred breathed out. If truth be told, she was completely shaken.

"It completely ignored her." Wesley observed. "It wasn't trying to kill."

"Wasn't trying to kill?" Spike scoffed. "I didn't see you going one on one with it."

"Spike's right, he was going for decapitating blows." Angel had to agree, having found the fight tougher than with your average demon.

"That was with you two. He could've killed Gunn but he just kicked him away." Lorne added, having found it strange the moment he saw it.

"So this guy's got a vendetta against these two?" Gunn asked. "Something they did back in their massacre days?"

"Hey!" Spike objected. "First time I saw that blighter was when he went after me a night or two ago."

"Maybe you lost some of your memory." Fred suggested. "Since your…you know." She ended smiling nervously.

"Well I don't recognize him either." Angel added.

"It's more likely we're dealing with a demon with something against vampires in general." Wesley suggested, having seen it before. Demons aren't known for liking vampires.

"Good for him." Gunn shrugged.

"Hey!" Angel and Spike objected simultaneously.

The demon continued down the dark alley way, nursing it's bloodied eye. As it got further, it heard the unmistakable sucking of vampires feeding. As it carried on it found the culprit; a vampire feeding on a young girl. Hearing the demon's footsteps, the young vamp expected another meal. However he's face paled (or would've months before) as he took in the large demon, who he wouldn't have a chance against. The demon leaned in closer to the vampire, frowning, and sniffed the trembling vampire. Uninterested in what it smelt, the demon carried on past the vampire. Having escaped a confrontation, the vampire abandoned the half dead girl and scrambled away in the opposite direction.

Upon waking up, Willow quickly realized that she didn't have a clue where she was. That, and that her head throbbed. 'I'm getting sick and tired of being kidnapped. I'm catching up with Dawn' Willow thought. She carefully pulled herself off the bed, careful to avoid adding to her headache. Noticing some light coming from the window, she shuffled to it and pulled the curtain away, wincing at the sunlight flooding through her dilated pupils. Squinting, she realized that the sun had just started rising in front of her window. What's more, the roads beneath the window didn't look normal. They were narrower. They looked like the ones she saw when in…

"England!" Willow gasped, her eyes wide. As she thought back to the hospital, she remembered what the man said; 'By the order of the watchers' council of Britain…WATCHERS' COUNCIL?! What do they want with me? And this doesn't look like a very secure prison' Willow thought.

Seeing the closed door, Willow wondered whether or not she should try her luck at it. On the one hand, she could be confronted by some very unfriendly watcher types who want Willow pie. But on the other hand, she was beyond hungry, and her accommodations didn't look too bad. Maybe they wouldn't mind her looking for some food…

Her mind made up, Willow crossed the room and, with shaky hands, opened the door…

Peeking through, she was shocked at what she saw. 'This is most definitely not a usual prison' thought Willow. It looked like a hotel room. A nice one too. Down to the TV and couches, 'one of which has a dark haired girl sleeping on it' thought Willow with a frown. She paned her view across the room, to the kitchen area, where she saw…

She would've gasped, if everything in her lungs hadn't escaped her. She could only see their back, but she recognized them instantly. So she should. After all, she'd dreamt of them every night since. 'Tara'. Willow felt nothing. She was holding onto the door to save herself from falling to the floor. Her mind wasn't functioning on a rational level. Her only thought was 'She's come back to me'. But after a moment of wonderment, Willow had to, but very reluctantly, question…

"How…"

Tara heard the squeak croak out quietly behind her. However, despite how it was delivered, she knew that voice anywhere. No matter what they may have been through, it would always be the voice she loved, the voice she cherished, and the voice that said everything was going to be okay. And she needed that right now. She'd woken up in a strange place earlier, where she'd been put through intense pain, and now she'd just woken up in what looks like a hotel room with an unfamiliar woman asleep on the couch. What's more, she'd just been through the strangest experience of her life. The last thing, before waking up in that horrible place, that she could technically remember, was being with Willow in their bedroom after over a day of love making. It had been a wonderful time, and they decided it was finally time to get of bed and do something else. At least for half an hour. 'But why do I feel like I haven't seen Willow in years?' Tara questioned herself. Although that was the last thing she could remember, she had a feeling. A feeling that she'd been somewhere, somewhere without Willow for a long time. Wherever it was, it wasn't bad, but likewise it wasn't blissful, she just felt…incomplete, like she was waiting for something…no someone to make her feel complete again, so she could move on.

Tara turned her head so slowly only one so uniquely focused on her movements-one such as Willow-would even notice the movement. Despite the pain that shot through her spine like molten magma flowing, Tara kept her movement beautifully elegant, slow but never jerky. With her dark blonde absorbing the golden light of the sunrise, and framing her perfect, pale face, she looked just like a…

'NO!' Willow demanded herself not to think of it. She had thought it every moment of every day since that night. That night they met, when, ironically, she couldn't speak of the beauty she saw before her. Now, she was in the same position, yet for different reasons. Then, she hadn't said it for fear of what it would make her, and of course she was literally unable to do so. Now, she forbids herself to say it, and for the first time think it, for fear of the truth. 'The being before me isn't a thing of beauty' She drilled in, forcing herself to believe it. 'This is a thing of pure evil. Using Tara…TARA to hurt me. Using a person of such beauty…such purity…and desecrating her wonderful spirit for it's own evil ends! It's not a being beauty…it's not my sweet Tara…it can't be…'

When Tara brought her eyes over Willow for the first time, she felt her breath catch in her throat. She looked so different from when Tara had last seen her, yet so much the same. She was slimmer than she had remembered, her hair longer, and her face paler with the unmistakable weariness that comes after pain no one should endure in their lifetime. However, underneath it all, Tara saw what she knew Willow always held in herself, the Willow she fell in love with. She saw a vulnerable and scared girl, unaware of her own beauty and encased in purity that begged to be soothed and kissed and held as she slept. Willow had told her stories of the vampire from an alternate dimension, and how she fooled everyone into believing she was the real deal. However, Tara always told herself in her heart that if she was to make a return, or the unthinkable should happen, she would always be able to tell her Willow from the vampire. Whenever Tara saw Willow, she always saw the sweet girl inside. Seeing this girl, after what seemed like both an eternity and a millisecond, made silent tears well up in her eyes, blurring their sky blue color and threatening to spill over at a simple touch.

Willow pulled the muscles in her face as well as she could to stop herself from crying. She knew that's what she…no it, the First, would want. But she didn't want to give it the satisfaction. However, her eyes…they were unmistakably Tara…so full of love, and sweetness. And were they tears she saw? Evil things don't cry…do they? Willow wanted to believe it was her, really her, and wished the rational part of her mind wasn't so demanding, that it would stop telling her there was no way. 'Why can't I just let her be real…just this once?' she asked herself, but her rational side wouldn't let up. 'Because it would be wrong' it argued. 'Tara died in your arms, you buried her, and the First spent the next year trying to trick us all. It'd make sense that it'd try again.' But Willow didn't want to listen. Tara was facing her straight on, staring her right in the eye, and she looked just like she had before…beautiful. And despite anything her rational mind may be saying it couldn't argue that away. She did, and always would look beautiful. That was one argument her heart had already won. However, she wanted to believe it was Tara. She wanted to believe she would close the gap between them, gather her in her arms and stroke her hair as she cried. The mere thought of this, while knowing it could never be brought tears into Willow's eyes, pushing against her eyelids, yet not quite spilling down her cheeks.

Peering further into her lover's soul, Tara saw the agonizing conflict inside, and winced at how much it was hurting the girl. She needed to put her at ease, she needed to hold her in her arms and let her rest, forever. Her whole body trembling, Tara took a small step, as if walking a tightrope. "Willow…" she spoke in her voice as soft as the clouds themselves.

'Her voice!' Willow thought. 'Her, beautiful, sweet, melodic voice…making my name sound like the most beautiful sound in the world the way only she can…NO!' Willow shouted herself, forcing her first silent tear to spill over her eyelid and slide gently down her cheek. 'It can't be' Even the voice in her head wavered at the emotions flying in her, continually gripping her vocal cords and escaping her body as tears down her cheeks. Noticing how the girl had taken a step towards her, Willow forced herself into action, knowing if she got any closer, she'd completely break down. Lifting her palm in front of herself, not caring that it was shaking more than it did even during her withdrawals, and forced her throat open. "No…" She croaked, her own voice allowing more tears to spill.

At Willow's rejection, Tara stopped her movements forward, but couldn't stop her voice traveling with her breath, her overwhelming need to soothe Willow overcoming everything else. "Willow…what…?"

"STOP!" Willow screamed, now clutching onto herself to try to ease her uncontrollable shaking and her tears now flowing freely down her face, with sobs not far behind. "STOP DOING THIS" She screeched, dropping her head further and contorting her face further to stop the inevitable sobs that followed. "You're not her…"

Tara too was now at the stage of twisting her face to keep the sobs at bay. Unable to think of what was upsetting her lover so, she kept trying to probe. "Willow…"

Neither had noticed that Karen was now awake and watching and Giles was standing at the doorway to the bathroom, soaking wet and wearing a bathrobe. They both watched silently and motionlessly, their own tears pouring down their faces. Karen, despite having only heard the story just hours ago, found the whole thing heartbreaking, and witnessing it before her…it was the most heart wrenching thing she'd seen.

Willow kept her face down, watching as her tears dropped straight from her eyes onto the carpet below. "It's not you…" She sobbed, her lip quivering.

"Willow…" Tara realized this was the only thing she was saying, but didn't know what else could be said. Besides, even if she did, her own emotional state was keeping her from saying anything beyond this sweet word. 'Why would she think I'm not me?' Tara thought, her mind picking up on the meaning of Willow's words, barely.

Doing nothing to fight off the physical effects of her emotions, Willow made a movement which were equal parts shaking her head and sobbing. "It can't be…" She barely whispered through the lump in her throat. However, every part of her at that moment was praying to every God in every Heaven and Hell that she was wrong.

"Willow…" Tara began, before her voice broke, having long since stored her confusion away for a later time and presently concentrating on her Willow. Realizing she had to get this sentence out, she took a deep breath-or rather a series of short ones-and tried again. "Willow…look at me?" Her emotions twisted the plea into sounding more like a question. Her body, racked with sobs, gave into her emotions. "Please?" She whispered, her voice a breath of undiluted emotion.

Evil or not, Willow could not deny Tara's plea, not when delivered how it had been. Right then, her head was the heaviest thing she had ever lifted. However, remembering Tara's tears, Tara's voice, Willow forced herself to look upon Tara's face. The moment their eyes connected, the rationalization shut up. The tears in her blue eyes, the emotion piercing Willow's soul…

"We met…" Tara began, once again finding her progress stunted by her sobs. Chastising herself, she forced herself to go on, before Willow dropped her head again. "We met in Stevenson, running away from the gentlemen. Together, we kept them away, and I wanted to tell you then how I felt, how special I knew you were." Willow squeaked in response, having thought almost the same moments before. "But I couldn't…I waited…waited until later…I told you you were special." Tara whisper, sobs escaping her once more, complementing Willow's. "But you were silly and didn't believe me." Tara giggled through her sobs. Tara's heart soared when she saw Willow do the same.

Willow was sobbing uncontrollably, but held her gaze in Tara's eyes. Her rational argument was becoming less convincing with every moment, and at Tara's last point Willow remembered her saying much the same thing during their frequent revisits to their first meeting.

"One night you spent the whole night in my room." Tara went on. "We slept in each other's arms. And it was magical." Tara stopped to sob again and allow Willow to do the same. "And when I woke up I realized…I…I" She hesitated, before breathing back in again. "I love you." She sobbed out.

Willow's eyes were pleading Tara to hold her, as she took on board what she was saying. Once they were together, Tara had often confessed that the first night that slept together (literally sleeping, that is) was the night she realized she was in love with her. But Willow's ever increasing tears were added to by the last three words. She recognized the way Tara said them, making sure Willow picked up that they were still true, and that she meant it with all her soul.

"I gave you the Doll's eye crystal." Tara smiled. "To remember the event…even though then you didn't know…I didn't think you ever would." Tara wiped her eyes, wanting to look at Willow as clearly as she possibly could. "But then, one night I told you…I told you I was yours…and you kissed me." Tara cried out softly. "Do you remember?"

Willow could only nod, her own mouth sewn shut and twisted in sharp breaths trying to escape and come through her lungs.

Tara beamed at Willow's nod, feeling her Willow return to her. "And I thought that moment would be the best one of my life. But it wasn't." Tara confessed, shaking her head. She quickly moved on, to avoid giving Willow the wrong impression. "It was weeks later. I thought I lost you. But you came to me. It was blackout, but you came to me; you were my light." Tara moved forward one step cautiously, smiling as she went on to keep her love's attention on her face rather than her movement. "My extra flamey light."

Giggling through the tears, Willow couldn't help but notice Tara's movement, but didn't move to stop her. She was well beyond wanting Tara away from her.

Stepping forward again, Tara was now only one step away from Willow. However, she was focused on her story, having revisited the memory millions of times herself. "You told me you love me." Tara sobbed, careful to keep her face a mirror of her own happiness of the memory. "And we made love." She took the final step, and was now only inches in front of the girl.

She could feel Tara's aura, her purity, she could smell Tara's sweet hair and taste her skin in the air. 'This is Tara' She realized. "Tara?" She sobbed in her own hopeful way.

Tara was on the verge of breaking down at this point, and she could see that Willow was too. She was craving contact with her beloved. She reached forward with her trembling hands and rested them on Willow's. She felt her breath catch at the familiar warm spark that coursed her veins at the mere touch of the redhead's skin. She encased the smaller girl's hands, which were violently shaking, and eased them toward her chest, resting them on her own heartbeat and holding them there. "And I always loved you. I always will." Tara cried out.

Willow watched her hands pressed against Tara's heart with wide eyes. The feel of Tara's skin was what she'd been craving for years. The withdrawals from magic were not comparable to the withdrawals from this feeling. But the heartbeat. The slightly fast, but unmistakably human heartbeat. 'She's alive' Her heart screamed at her mind, basking in it's victory. 'She's real, and she's alive!' "Tara?" She sobbed out again in the exact same way.

Tara waited for a few seconds before plunging in. "Willow…?" She asked, fearing the answer more than she would fear her own death. She licked her lips, which were quivering beyond reproach, and bit back another sob. "Do you still love me?"

"Oh Tara!"

Finally giving in, Willow flung her arms around the blonde and broke down, allowing Tara to do likewise. In a manner of seconds, they had slid to the floor and were clinging on to each other, crying into the other's body. Tara stroked Willow's hair soothingly, despite herself being broken down, before Willow broke away and looked at her straight in the eyes.

"Tara…" Willow forced out, needing to answer Tara's question more than she needed oxygen. "I love you." With that she pushed her lips against the blonde's running her hands through her silky hair and feeling Tara do the same. If she hadn't already believed this was her Tara, she would've now. Kissing Tara made the whole world right again; to Willow it meant evil loses and good triumphs, it meant people are happy and more importantly it meant she was where she was meant to be. Tara's lips always made her feel every positive emotion in the world, and make the negative ones non existent. It made her wonderfully calm and intensely aroused. It made her feel beautiful and powerful. It was everything she'd prayed for everyday before and after Tara, and it was more. There were only two words to describe it; just simply 'kissing Tara.'

Willow pulled her lips away reluctantly to continue. "I will always love you." She breathed out, before succumbing to a force stronger than gravity and fell back onto Tara's lips, feeling everything she had before all over again, yet somehow unique, as was always the way. Pulling away again to conclude, she cried out, "Forever", before descending once again.

Tara was far past cloud 9 and was closer now to cloud 7,892,864. Every word and action Willow was performing made her heart grow, and warmth fill her body. Every kiss brought her to Heaven, and she had the unstoppable tears of joy as proof. When they separated again, Tara was once again reverted back to small, unstructured sentences. "Oh Willow…" She breathed out before claiming her lips, using the initiative rather than Willow this time. Everything Willow felt, Tara felt, although it had something that Tara could only describe as a 'Willow twist' to it. Nonetheless, it was perfect, and made everything right.

They separated their lips once again, but found they would not be able to fully separate for a long time. They clung to each other's bodies once again, sobbing and randomly kissing each other, be it their lips, arms, shoulders, cheeks or necks. Giles and Karen still had yet to move or talk. At this juncture, words and actions were meaningless. Heaven and Hell were meaningless. Everything was meaningless.

Except for the two girls crying in each other's arms.

CHAPTER FIVE BEING BACK

Eventually the two girls separated, although Tara kept her left hand entwined in Willow's right and the two kept caressing certain parts of their lover; a gesture of wonderment and love rather than anything sexual. For Willow, as far as she was concerned Tara was back, and she didn't care how. For Tara, for reasons she didn't know she felt like she'd been away from Willow for a lifetime, and being back with her made her feel alive again. What's more, for some reason or another, Willow's reaction to her had been quite surreal. Despite not knowing exactly what brought on her reaction, she was sure it had something to do with the separation she felt, and hence Willow's tears instigated her own.

About an hour since Willow had first set eyes on Tara, Giles felt they needed some kind of explanation, or at least the best one he could offer them. He and Karen, whom he had already given every piece of information he had in thanks to her guarding over Tara, sat on the sofa opposite the one where Tara and Willow sat. The girls, throughout the entire exchange, never let up their soft caresses and never allowed even a whisper of air come between them.

Clearing his throat to try to draw the girls' attention his way, Giles began. "I suppose I should offer you both something in the way of explanation."

Willow looked up at him briefly before returning her gaze upon Tara. "Where are we?" She asked, still watching her lover, but remembering how the streets outside suggest Britain and she was kidnapped by watchers.

Thankful that Willow wanted to get the easier questions out of the way first, Giles answered. "We're in England, Willow. A hotel in Colchester, to be precise. It's a town in Essex." Giles breathed in, hesitant to go on. "You and Tara were both kidnapped by the watchers' council." He shifted his gaze to Tara, so that he may address her. "That's the strange place you were in earlier. You were unconscious when I found you."

"Unconscious?" Willow blurted out, her heart beating at the idea of Tara in trouble. "Why?"

Giles looked into Tara's eyes for some indication of whether or not to tell Willow the truth, but the second he did Tara let her eyes drop down. "The council wished to extract her powers." Giles confessed, resolving to word it with a cushioning blow. "They no doubt used many methods, although none of them seemed to have worked. However, some of them can be quite…" Giles cleared his throat once again to get the next word out. "Painful. But with no lasting affects." He added quickly when he saw Willow's eyes widen. "But enough to allow unconsciousness befall her nonetheless." He added quietly.

Willow's lip was once again quivering, but Tara's caressing of the back of her hand and her looking into her eyes with a heart warming smile that told her she was alright relaxed Willow. At least enough to keep tears at bay, but not quite enough to ward off a touch of hysteria. "What? Why?" She asked, blindly. "How long?"

"Not long." Giles was quick to underline anything that eased Willow's state, pleased to see that Tara was doing likewise. "She was in the council's possession for less than five hours. I believe they think she has the ability to channel the power of a goddess, you too Willow." He told them. "This is why they took you from New York. I presume your unconscious state was just a precaution to keep you from fighting back."

"But, I thought the council went kaboom?" Willow asked, thinking they'd gotten rid of the council for good.

"It seems the First was not entirely successful." Giles told her, cryptically. "Unfortunately, the council has now re-emerged, although different than before. Whereas previously, while the council were indeed foolish, power hungry and brutal, their agenda was essentially the same as ours. No such comparison can be made for this new council." Giles went on, himself finding the information difficult to comprehend. "Under the reign of Benjamin Travers, Quentin's son, the council seems to have become more like the Initiative, with unseemly experiments, selfish agendas for power and complex weaponry. However, unfortunately, unlike the Initiative, they are not arrogant of the more mystical ways of this world, and so are much more powerful."

Having listened as well as she could, Tara found all this information confusing her more and more. First of all, this was the first she'd heard of anything happening to the watchers' council, or the First. She resolved to question Willow on these matters later, as well as the topic that was unnerving her most. Giles told them that the watchers incapacitated Willow to keep her from attacking them, but Tara knew that Willow couldn't fight physically, so that only left the magical. But Willow had promised her she had given up the magic. Tara hoped she was mistaken.

"You rescued us?" Willow asked, thinking that Giles wouldn't be up to rescuing them both from a seemingly all-powerful council, at least single-handed. "Alone?"

"More or less." Giles confirmed. Seeing Willow's questioning look, he went on. "Yesterday morning I received a visi