Title: When The Morning Star Sings
Author: Lady Bold
Posted: 04-10-2003
Email: ladybold@yahoo.com
Rating: NC17
Category: Crossover BtVS/AU
Content: A/C W/S A/C/W/S
Summary:
Spoilers: Post The Gift on Buffy
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: NF and my site, The Addiction
Notes: :Okay, so I’ve never written any Angel or Buffy fan fic, but this idea came to me after reading a whole bunch (I mean loads and loads) of Angel/Cordelia/Willow/Spike fic. Mainly Inell and Kylia’s. This takes place after Season 5 of Buffy and Season 2 of Angel.
Buffy is dead, sorry she’s not coming back. Spike stayed in Sunnyhell, and he and Willow (who broke up with Tara due to using magic too much same as the series) are kinda in charge of the Scoobies, and are taking care of Dawn. Giles is in England, he and Anya are dating. Xander and Faith have been exchanging letters frequently, and are talking about seeing each other when Faith is released later this year.
On the Angel front, Darla died having Connor, but Wesley didn’t take him. Cordelia didn’t ascend, but she did find out about being a Higher Power, and Angel and she are still dancing around the fact that they love one another. Fred and Gunn are together but she’s finding that she may have feelings for a certain former watcher, as well. Gunn has a very big secret. Lorne is around, but he’s working on rebuilding Carita’s in the ballroom of the Hyperion.
Now enough build up, and on to the story.
Feedback: Yes,please, see above email addy.Part 1
“ANGEL! ANNNNGGGELLL!” A voice could be heard echoing through the hotel.
Angel came running, his footsteps thudding heavily through the hallways as he searched desperately for the source of the voice. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew if he didn’t hurry the voice would leave him behind.
“Where are you? Angel? Hurry!! Please Angel?” The voice was closer, Angel could tell. Suddenly he felt himself whipped around, a hand restraining him. Growling low in his throat he turned to see who stopped him.
He jerked away from the face in front of him. Spike stood there looking cocky as ever.
“Oi! Mate, wot’s the friggin’ hurry, then?!” Spike said, smirking heavily.
“Jay-zus, Spike! I don’t have time for this shit! Can’t you hear it? I have to go!” Angel panted unnecessarily. He could still hear the voice calling for him.
“Don’t you know? You’re too late. Can’t you tell? She’s gone.” Spike said, the heavy North London accent gone from his voice, leaving behind the proper Victorian accent he had dropped shortly after being turned.
“NO! I have to find her. . .Spike help me find her!”
“I can’t mate, I have to find my own, besides, I hate you now.” Spike said softly.
Angel looked defeated, his eyes catching those of his Grand-childe. Pleading with him silently, Angel put his hand on the other vampire’s arm. “Why? Spike, I can’t go back and make it right, if I could I would, and you know that. But you can help me find her, please don’t make her suffer for what I’ve done to you!”
Spike looked to his Grand-sire pityingly. “Don’t you understand? It’s not up to me to forgive you any more, I accept you, she accepts you. They both do. Now you have to forgive yourself. Then maybe you can find her. Them.”
“What? Spike I don’t understand.”
“I know, but you have to soon, or you really will lose us all. Hurry. . .they haven’t much time. I will save the witch, can you save the seer?” Angel stared deeply into Spike’s eyes, when suddenly they flickered, and he was staring into the eyes of Cordelia, who’s eyes begged him silently for help, as they flickered again he was staring into the face of Willow, her green eye’s terrified.
Without warning, Angel sat straight up in bed, panting heavily, as the sound of Cordelia and Willow’s screams for help echoed in his ears and mind.
Part 2
Angel trudged downstairs, it was the fifth night in a row his sleep had been disturbed, no, ended, by the same dream. A voice calling out to him, obviously female, his urgent desire to find the woman, yet being stopped by a cryptic Spike. Then the screams. He was really, REALLY beginning to hate sleep. (To top it all off, Connor was teething!)
His sleep blurry eyes were greeted by the now familiar scene of demon carpenters and electricians, all of which were being directed by Lorne, clad in a stunning lime green satin ensemble. Sitting off to the side, Wesley was reading through a monster-sized book, looking for clues on the latest vision Cordy had had. Fred was tinkering with some gadget, probably having disassembled the dishwasher for parts. Gunn was once again polishing his ax, while listening to some incomprehensible rap tune. Cordy was seated on the round, red couch, playing quietly with Connor, who seemed to be entranced with the way she was making faces.
“Angel, cupcake! You’re up, and looking. . .” Lorne trailed off, slightly, frowning up at the ensouled vamp. “Not so chipper. What’s wrong my strudel?”
Angel sighed heavily. “Lorne! Enough with the pastries! And it’s nothing, I just had a hard time sleeping.”
Cordy didn’t look up from Connor, who had a tight hold on her mahogany locks, “Well considering the last time you had a hard time sleeping, you fed D-A-R-L-A and Dru some lawyers, maybe it’s a bigger deal than you think?”
Angel withheld the sigh that was threatening to break free. Choosing instead to roll his eyes at the lovely seer. Was she ever going to forgive him for his ‘beige period’?
“It’s nothing like that, Cordy! It’s just some strange dreams is all.”
“So were the ones featuring D-A-R-L-A.”
“I’m not having sex with DARLA in my dreams! It’s Spike. Okay!” Angel shouted.
Everyone stopped to stare at the vampire, as what he had just implied registered in his own head. “OH, for heaven’s sake! You guys have the dirtiest minds!”
“Notice how he didn’t deny anything?” Cordy said to Lorne.
Lorne smothered a grin at the slightly jealous tone in Cordy’s voice, but nodded.
Angel just sighed again, sitting down beside Cordy and gathering Connor in his arms. Looking down into his infant son’s arms, he sighed again as he began vamping out to the delight of his son. “You know Cordy, if you wanna get technical you were in my dream as well.”
Cordy’s impression of a fish left everyone smothering chuckles. “Hmph!”
“Anyway, I need to talk with Wes in the office, can you feed Connor?”
Cordy just glared at Angel. “OF COURSE! C’mere baby,” as she reached for Connor, “We’re gonna go make ourselves some pureed spinach followed with some apple juice! Yes I know it sounds disgusto, but it’s good for you. . .” Her voice trailed off as she took the baby into the kitchen.
Angel signaled for Wes to follow him into the office. Once they were both inside, Angel closed the door, sighing as the heavy door muted the ever-present sounds of construction.
Wes looked into Angel’s tired face, noting the dark smudges under his eyes, but remained silent, waiting for Angel to start.
“Uhm. . .Wes. I think, well, I think Cordy’s right. We should research my dreams.” Angel said in a rush.
Wes cocked his head slightly, his eyebrow raised. “Really? Why?”
Angel proceeded to describe the dreams in detail to Wes, including the way that Spike had changed into Cordy, who’d changed into Willow. Wes said nothing, merely watched as Angel paced back and forth.
“Angel, I think you’re right. I’m glad you told me about this. It sounds vaguely like a Slayer’s prophetic dreams, and those almost always come true. I will begin researching it right away. You may want to tell Cordy about this, though.”
“Tell Cordy what?” Angel and Wes looked to the door, noticing for the first time that Cordy stood propped in the doorway, Connor fast asleep in her arms.
*Oh shit! How much did she hear?* Angel wondered, panic plain to see.
“Oh, uhm, well, I’ll leave that for Angel to tell you.” Wes beat a hasty retreat, glad for the chance to be out of Cordy’s way. No telling how she would react to an apparently prophetic dream featuring both herself and Spike, as well as Willow.
“What’s going on, Angel?” Cordy asked softly, her hand rubbing gently up and down Connor’s back.
“You know that dream, I mentioned?” At Cordy’s nod Angel continued. “Wes and I both agree that it’s very similar to a Slayer dream. A prophetic dream.”
Cordy looked vaguely uneasy at the idea, but still a bit confused. “Oh-kay? And?”
Angel broke down the dream for her. As he described it to her, her face grew more and more pensive. She stood abruptly away from the doorjamb, handing the baby to Angel in a swift motion.
“I have to go.” And she twirled in an about face that would do any military person proud, and practically ran out the doors of the hotel.
Angel looked down at his son as he gurgled questioningly up at him. “Well that was unexpected.”
Part 3
Cordy ran. Not even stopping to gather her things, she bolted from the hotel. Her mind whirling fiercely - caught up in the maelstrom of feelings Angel had caused when he told her of his dreams. *What the hell can this mean, he and I are sharing dreams now? But, wait, my dream featured Willow speaking, and Spike and Angel in trouble. And Wes thinks Angel’s dreams are prophetic? Oh GOD! This is too freakin’ weird! *
Stopping at the local coffee shop she sat down at one of the outdoor café tables, catching her breath. He mind continued its internal dialogue. *And if it’s prophecy, what the Fuck does it mean? Why would Willow even be in my dream, let alone the fact that in it, I’m hella worried about Angel AND Spike?! Angel I can understand, I mean I always worry about him. He’s my best friend. But SPIKE? And Willow. . .she and I may have forgiven each other, her for my bitchiness during high school, me for the whole Xander-kissage-hole-through-my-freakin’-stomach thing, but in my dreams she looks at me so. . .weirdly! What the FUCK is going on!!*
Suddenly a shadow passes over her table stopping by the chair across from her. Looking up she’s sees the familiar form of Wesley standing before her. He indicates the seat, asking permission to sit, which she grants with a shaky nod.
“Cordelia, what’s wrong? Angel said you flew outta his office like a bat outta hell, did you have a vision?” Wes’ tone was worried, and anxious.
Cordy shook her head slightly. “No, Wes, no vision. At least I don’t think so.”
Wes looked puzzled by her cryptic statement. Before he could question her, Cordy gave a mighty ‘Hrumph’ and began telling Wes what had happened, been happening.
“About a week ago, I began to have dreams. . .” Cordy started, and smirked slightly at Wes’ obvious start, his eyes widening dramatically at her words. “And after hearing Angel tell me about his, I gotta wonder if you and he aren’t right. I think they’re prophetic. At first all I heard in the dreams was screaming, and a man calling my name. Then it slowly evolved into me running through the halls of the hotel, trying to find the voice, knowing that if I didn’t. . .well something very bad would happen. Last night was the first time I saw Willow. She was playing Cryptic Girl, talking about how I couldn’t save Angel and Spike, unless I saved myself. I really didn’t understand her very well, and then suddenly her face shifted, to Angel’s then Spikes’ then back to hers, but her eyes went all black and her skin got all veiny and gross. I woke up with Spike and Angel’s screams in my ears. I was all sweaty and gross and totally freaked.” Cordy said it all very quickly, rushing to get all of it out, and in one breath.
Wes sat for a moment, his eyes thoughtful, staring at Cordelia with a strange expression on his face. Finally it wigged Cordy out enough that she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “WHAT?”
“Cordy, I told this to Angel as well. You have to tell him. He’s very worried about you, and with what you just told me, combined with Angel’s dream, I have a feeling. . .well let’s just say it isn’t a feeling that I’m comfortable with. We have to research this.”
“Oh great, I get dreams of icky gross looking Willow, and am treated to the idea that I might wanna save Spike for some weird reason, AND I woke up with Angel’s screams in my head and totally covered in sweat, and it wasn’t even in the Angel-Naked-In-My-Bed-Just-Made-Him-Scream-My-Name way, and I still have to freakin' research?!” Cordy stopped suddenly, realizing her faux pas. “Uhm, I mean, well - - dammit Wes!”
Wes merely cocked an eyebrow at her humorously, and motioned for her to walk with him.
Part 4
“DAAAAWWWWNNNN!” This was third time Willow had bellowed the teens name, only now was she hearing footsteps that corresponded with the whole “get-up-you’re-gonna-be-late-for the-third-time-in-a-week” mode, that Dawn always operated in.
“OKAY! Okay! I’m up, I’m up!” Dawn bellowed back.
Willow merely looked up the stairs in exasperation. *Yeah, now that I’ve gone hoarse from yelling your name!
Willow went into the kitchen, intent on claiming the last Everything Bagel and the last schmear of cream cheese outta the container, only to find a half-dressed, very mussed looking, vampire, calmly devouring said bagel and cream cheese, which for some unfathomable reason he was dipping in his blood. *ARGGHH!! I’m gonna hex him till his parts fall off! Uh-no wait, uhm can’t do that! Want said parts for myself! Damn it I’ll just have to put lemon juice in his blood supply!*
Willow looked sufficiently menacing to Spike, enough so that the normally unrepentant vampire held up the uneaten half in supplication. “Oi, Red! Quit with the death stare! It’s just a friggin’ bagel!”
Willow simply glared unhappily, her arms folded across her chest, saying in a lethal tone, “Did you not hear me say, LAST NIGHT, that the last bagel was mine? I know I said it several times, with you around, mind you. And now you’re eating my bagel.”
Spike hid his smile diplomatically, trying unsuccessfully to look innocent. “I heard no such thing, no clue whatsoever what you’re babbling on about, pet.”
Willow merely, ‘Hrumphed’ loudly. Their argument was cut short by the arrival of a whirlwind of energy and activity, also known as Dawn.
“Gotta run, gonna be late, see you at 3pm, love ya!” Dawn said in a rush, grabbing an orange and the money Willow held out for her lunch, and kissing Spike then Willow goodbye and hastily running for the door, as Xander’s car horn honked.
Spike and Willow shared a breathless laugh, for even the non-breathing vampire was taken aback each morning by the mini-tornado that was the ball of mystical energy, trapped within a human teenage body.
Spike stopped laughing, noticing for the first time how tired Willow looked, her green eye’s looking bruised, from lack of sleep.
“Luv, are you . . .okay?” He asked her hesitantly.
Willow, who had been passing an orange back and forth between her hands absentmindedly, looked confused by the question.
“It’s just that you look mighty tired, Red.”
“I am, but I’m sure most . . . OH shit! What the hell am I?” At Spike’s incredulous look, Willow clarified. “I’m not Dawn’s mom, surrogate or adoptive, or her sister, or even related to her in any way at all! I’m her sister’s lesbian/witch best friend!” *And for that matter I’m re-thinking the whole, lesbian aspect of that sentence!*
Spike burst into laughter at Willow’s bewildered look, even while he cringed internally over the cursed L-word. It wasn’t the witch’s fault he had begun looking at her as more than Buffy’s friend. In the nearly a year since the death of the Slayer, Spike had found his grief had waned, knowing that her fight was over and she was in a happier place, made grief seem inappropriate for the perennially up-beat woman she had been. So instead he had chosen to honor her memory, by keeping his promise to her, and protect the Nibblet, and in the past six months had extended that promise to include the Scoobies as well.
What he hadn’t counted on was falling for another one of the do-gooder bunch. But as Fate had proven on several (hundred) occasions, he was Love’s Bitch. And it didn’t help seeing the redheaded, witchy vixen, day-in and day-out, either. If she was still with the blonde bint, Glinda, he might have been able to at least mute his desire somewhat, but with Tara outta the picture, he was finding it difficult, if not downright impossible to ignore the growing attraction he felt for the girl he affectionately nicknamed, Red.
If that wasn’t enough, the last week had left him pulling a ‘Sleepless in Sunnydale’ routine that was driving him bonkers. Hearing her and the dark-haired cheerleader scream in terror, while talking to a particularly daft version of his broody Grand-sire, was seriously . . .well, it was wigging him out!
Willow watched the play of emotion across Spike’s face, the concealed humor glinting in his ice-blue eyes. If she were honest with herself, she would admit to lusting after the platinum blonde vampire since the incident in the factory. But never in her wildest imaginings, (and she admitted to quite a few really out there ones) did she think she would be living with the object of those fantasies, for the past year.
Now with last night’s dream still hovering around the edges of her mind, Willow wasn’t sure what to think anymore. The image of Cordelia speaking in enigmatic circles, all while hearing Angel and Spike screaming in horror and pain, had very near driven Willow out of bed altogether. *And Okay, so not completely 'not-gay', if those sexy feelings for Cordelia (YIKES!) were any indication* And while she was no expert, she had a feeling that the dream was more than just that.
“Well, Red, what does it matter what you are. You love ‘er, don’t ya? Dawn, she means somethin’ to ya, right?” Spike asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
“OF COURSE! She’s the little sister I never had. More than that really. I’m not sure I would have made it through this past year without her.” *Or you.* “And I promised her, and myself, that I would do whatever it took to keep her. I fought the Watcher’s Council, her father, and Social Services, but she’s mine now. And I won’t give her up.”
Spike’s eyes clouded with tears for but a brief second, as he remembered the horrific struggle that Willow had gone through to keep the teenager, but it was long enough for Willow to discern. It made her breath catch in her chest, and her heart skip a beat, the anguish in his gaze was so clear.
“Yeah, and I’ll make sure that you won’t have to.” Spike said, his tone filled with tears, yet his eyes clear.
“Good.” Willow said, pushing back her own tearful reaction. “Now if you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna take a nap before class.”
Spike frowned at that. “I seem to remember asking you why you looked so tired, before, but you didn’t really answer . . . “
Willow sighed, hesitant to answer, or at least to tell the whole truth. “Uhm, well, I’ve, uh, been having . . . nightmares.” The last bit was said in a whisper.
Spike jolted with her words. And in an instant knew that his dreams and hers had to be connected. *AW Bollocks, bugger and SHITE! I really don’t want to see the freakin’ poof! *
Part 5
It took Spike explaining it at least seven times, before Willow’s tired and astonished mind could catch on. He too, had been experiencing the dreams. Though his featured a rather cryptic version of Angel, with her own and Cordy’s screams for background noise. Comparing the two dreams, Willow became increasingly alarmed.
“What does it mean? Why are we both dreaming of Cordy and Angel, and each other? Why all the cryptic warnings?” Willow asked, panic in her voice.
Spike shook his head, his eyes somber. “Red, Willow . . . I just don’t know. I think we should call Ripper. See what he knows about shared dreams and such. And I – I think we maybe, uhm, should, call, uhm. We should call Angel.” The last sentence was said in a rush, as Spike forced the words out quickly.
Willow nodded her head, “Okay, I’ll call Giles, after 8pm, though cause of the time difference.” She paused for a moment. “Do, do you want me to call Angel and Cordelia?”
Spike looked grateful for the suggestion. “If you don’t mind? I just . . . I don’t like talking with Angel. It’s too hard.” Though Willow noticed he didn’t mention why it was hard, she just nodded.
“You know, I haven’t seen my grand-sire, since I had the Gem of Amara? I mean I saw him at Buffy’s . . .funeral, but we didn’t speak, I was too broken up, physically and mentally, and I know he had to be feeling close to the same.” Spike paused, not looking up from his clasped hands, so he didn’t notice the surprised expression cross Willow’s face. “I used to taunt him and Buffy, about their love, and how pathetic it was. How they could never be friends. At least I got that much from Buffy, in the end. All he has are sad memories and nightmares of what Angelus did to all of you.”
Willow didn’t say a word, letting Spike’s voice wash over her, noticing how the familiar North London accent faded, to be replaced by one not too dissimilar to Giles’.
“I loved her, you know. And I prolly always will at least a part of me. Same as I’ll always love Dru, my dark goddess. Cause they both made me feel. But now I look back, and I know that Buffy’d want me to move on. Not leave the Bit or you Scoobies, but to honor her memory and find something else. Someone else.” As Spike spoke, tears rolled down his face. But a smile still remained upon his wide mouth.
“I think, well I think I can do that.” Spike whispered, almost to low for Willow to catch, though once it reached her ears, she wasn’t sure if she could handle the thought of Spike with someone else, someone who wasn’t . . .her.
***
As Wes and Cordy entered the cool lobby of the Hyperion they were greeted by the ear-piercing yells of an unhappy baby. Cordy ran to the distressed toddler, gathering his chunky frame to her slight body, cooing soothingly at him, while searching frantically for his absent father. When she spied him, he was running dead out, a bottle of formula in hand. Without a word she grabbed it from Angel and began feeding the deprived child, immediately, and ignored Angel’s frantic looking face.
“Oh thank the powers! I wasn’t sure where you had gone, and as soon as you ran out, Connor started fussing, and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong . . .” Angel’s agitated babbling died down at the sight of his beautiful half-demon seer holding his son in her arms. Like the famed portraits of Mary, the mother of Jesus, her dark head bent to comfort the weepy toddler, the sun shone down, resting on the crown of her head, and giving her an ethereal glow. In that instant he knew that whatever else was to come, his dreams of a Shanshu had come true. For this tiny slip of a woman, and a child borne of two of the vilest vampires in history, had made him come alive, if not in the breathing sense than in every other way.
Cordy looked up hearing Angel’s breath catch, and noticed for the first time how she sat in the sunlight. Moving to a darker corner without a thought, she smiled up at her Champion. “Sorry ‘bout that, Broody-boy, I didn’t notice.”
Angel’s eyes nearly filled with tears at her selfless and natural reaction, but instead of saying anything, he just sat beside the two on the couch, reveling in their nearness.
Wes’ eyes narrowed at the blatant desire and tenderness in Angel’s actions, as well as Cordy’s obtuseness. Choosing to avoid the anger at a confrontation at this juncture, Wes headed to the office, intent on finding the root of the dreams plaguing his friends. Pulling down a book nearly his own weight, he opened it to the section labeled in ancient Latin, Somnus Aspectus, or Sleeping Visions. Paging through, he observed a passage, simply called Il Compago, The Joining, and read further.
** In times of great turmoil within the world
There comes a time for The Joining
When four souls find their hearts
And together they can fight the evil
From within and without
But in the third age of man,
When none of creation remembers
The Powers but for vague promises
And magic is forgotten
Two beings reborn without souls
Will be gifted them by the woman with
Magic of Earth
Two beings reborn without true hearts
Will be gifted them by the woman with
Magic of Heaven
Together the four shall become one
And the Joining shall protect the world
And the Host will ring forth
As the morning star sings
Shall the Dawn of a new age be ushered in
Heralded by dreams,
Waking and sleeping
The un-joined shall ache for
The three who shall be their
Whole
But should the four remain un-Joined
The fallen star will tear the world asunder
And the end shall come with
Much haste and suffering
Many shall stand in the way of the Joining
Demons and those of hell
Lead by the star's most shining child
But if the Joined find solace in each other
And in their allies both of heaven and on earth
The armies of hell and the fallen star himself
Shall not be able to destroy what has been wrought **
Wes gasped loudly, his heart racing at the implications of the prophecy. He ran his hands over the page, before standing quickly and grabbing his cell phone. Dialing a number he knew by heart, he began pacing frantically.
“Answer! Goddamit! Hello? Giles?”
“Yes? Wesley?” Came Rupert Giles’ tinny voice.
“Yes, it’s me. I think we have a problem.”
“What is it? It’s not, A-A-Angelus?”
“No, but Giles, it could be worse. Do you have a copy of the Portentum Maleficus?”
“Yes of course!”
“Turn to the section, Somnus Aspectus, and a page titled Il Compago.” Wes waited as the older man did so, without question.
“Oh dear . . .”
“Precisely. And in the past week or so, Angel and Cordelia have both begun experiencing dreams, and if you’re reading what I am, I think this is the beginning. And it seems the dreams are featuring Willow, and . . . Spike.”
“Oh dear . . .”
“Giles now is not the time to get stuck in your role as a Watcher, snap out of it MAN!”
“Right, right. Well I guess I should head back to Sunnydale. If what you suspect is true, then I should be the one to tell Willow.”
“No, Giles, I just needed to talk this through with someone, get a second opinion of sorts. What I really need for you to do is run interference with the Council; we can’t have them getting involved. They have proven time and again that they are not as pure as they would like to project; I have a feeling if they came across this prophecy, we might find them trying to destroy one or both vampires. And as the prophecy implies, if the Joining doesn’t happen . . .it could prove disastrous.”
“Too right. Wes, please keep me informed . . . if there is anything you need me for, I can be there in moments.”
Wes looked at the phone incredulously. “Moments?”
“Having a vengeance demon as a lover has its benefits, and that’s merely the mundane sort.” Giles laughed.
Wes snorted, then said his good-byes. He had to take this to Cordy and Angel.
Part 6
London:
As Wes worked up the nerve to tell Angel and Cordy about the newest prophecy, Giles lay back in his bed, his arms returning to wrap around Anyas’ slender waist, feeling the gentle brush of her blonde hair against his chest. The past year had been one of remarkable discoveries for himself and his former charges, he reflected, but none so quietly remarkable as the way he and Anya had found one another.
Anya and Xander had parted ways, amicably, six months ago, when she had chosen to return to being a vengeance demon, D’hoffryn’s offer had been too good to refuse. Xander hadn’t been able to understand her wish to return to demonhood, so they had agreed to call off their engagement. Anya, who still ran the Magick Box, was in constant contact with the former watcher, and soon they found they had much more in common than they had ever thought. Soon Anya was visiting him on the weekends, and from there . . . well he now couldn’t imagine a life without the brash, beautiful blonde.
She had made him see demons in a different light, saying that what humans called demons were truly just a different species, as alien to earth as humans were to Mars. Most demons came from dimensions where humans did not exist, and if they did, they were in the minority. Here on earth, with humans dominating society, most demons had no hope of ever integrating.
As a demon Anya was subject to a list of laws as complex as any human society, in many cases more complex, and most lawbreakers weren’t known to live long in the demon realms. She acknowledged the fact that a great deal of demons were much more aggressive and deadly to humankind, but said that to demons humans represented oppressors or even simple cattle. But that had more to do with the ways they were treated on earth or the strictures of their home dimensions, it wasn’t any thing personal.
Vampires and other ‘tainted’ demons were actually the bane of most demon societies as well, and were viewed in much the same ways, as destroyers. And while it went against everything he had been taught as a Watcher, Giles found himself believing her explanations. Though the theories she had on demon souls versus human souls took some convincing, in the end he had to admit that it was likely true that only the un-pure demons, such as Vampires, lacked a soul. Demons such as Clem and Anya clearly demonstrated soul-like tendencies, such as displaying a conscience and dismay at the hurt of others.
Now as he lay beside her, he found himself re-examining his choices. Leaving Sunnydale had been for the best, he couldn’t deal with staying there after Buffy’s death, and knew that if he had stayed he would have only regretted it. Yet now, one of ‘his’ children, two really, faced a new and potentially explosive destiny, with two of the most feared Vampires in recorded history. Wesley had told him not to come, but he couldn’t help wondering if going back was the better choice.
Untangling himself gently from the warm body of his lover, he stood from the bed, quickly dressing in a pair of light cotton pajama bottoms, leaving his chest bare, and strode from the room. Taking up the phone in the small study, he dialed a familiar number.
***
Sunnydale:
Willow and Spike had spent the last half-hour avoiding conversation, as each processed their thoughts. So both were extremely startled by the shrill ring of the telephone as it pierced the air.
“I got it.” Willow dashed to grab the cordless. “Hello?”
“Willow?”
“Giles?”
“Yes, hello Willow.”
“Giles, I was going to call you tonight. We’ve got a hellmouth-y sitch.”
“You and Spike are dreaming of each other and of Angel and Cordelia.”
Willow pulled the phone away from her ear, gapping at it in confusion; Spike almost chuckled at the befuddled look upon her face, but was concerned by the awestruck look as well.
“HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT?!” Spike couldn’t help wincing at the shriek, from the redheaded witch.
“Jesus WILLOW! My ears! And to answer your question. . . Well I can’t really. You need to get in touch with Wesley and the rest, down in L.A.”
“Giles? What’s going on?”
“Willow, there’s a prophecy, so I need you to listen to me, and go down to LA, take Spike and Dawn.”
“A prophecy? About me? And Spike?” Spike looked mutinous at the very idea.
“Yes, but also about Angel, and Cordelia.”
“But Giles? What about the Hellmouth? I can’t leave it without some form of a guard. And if Spike and I go, that leaves Xander here alone. He’s gotten really good at patrolling, but I don’t think he can handle it on his own.”
“And the newest Slayer is in Thailand, handling a Boxjer demon uprising. *SIGH* Okay, I have to work on this a moment.”
“Giles, what about . . . Faith? Can’t you pull some strings, get her released early, for good behavior? Xander can be her Watcher of sorts, he would do a great job.”
There was a long silence on the opposite end of the phone, leaving Willow to wonder if the phone hadn’t gone dead. Finally Giles sighed loudly again and spoke. “That’s actually a sound idea, Willow. I’ll take care of that now. Faith will be there by the end of the day, tomorrow. You and Spike should leave immediately however.”
“Okay, as soon as Dawn gets outta school, we’ll be off. I’ll call Xander as soon as I’m off with you.” Willow said, rapidly making plans in her head.
“Good, and Willow? Be very careful, I have good reason to suspect that outside forces are gonna be coming after you and Spike.”
Willow merely chuckled. “When aren’t they? Giles, I’ll call you from LA, alright?”
“Good. Talk to you then.”
“Yep. Bye.” Willow hung up, setting the phone down gingerly. Spike looked at her knowingly. He had heard most of the conversation loud and clear, something was definitely up!
“Go get packed, Red, I’ll take care of getting the car ready, and make sure to pack the Bit a bag, as well.” He went out to the old SUV Joyce had left Buffy, who’d left it, (according to a magically made will, care of Willow) to Dawn, who since she wasn’t old enough to drive, gave it to Willow.
“Okay, only an hour till Dawn is outta school, anyway, short days, what a blessing! I’ll call Xander too.” Willow said, talking to herself.
After a quick call to Xander, explaining the situation, very briefly, and assuring her best friend that Faith would be in town before sundown the next day, (Xander seemed very excited by the prospect), Willow ran to get her own and Dawn’s bags ready. Taking the time to fold everything neatly, she was done in a half-hour. Spike had returned, from the garage, having hung heavy-duty canvas in the windows of the back seat, making himself a small cave, to protect him from the late afternoon sun. He then made quick work of packing his own bag, as well as a small cooler filled with bloodpacks and sodas for the trip.
Less than fifteen minutes later and Dawn had arrived home, jubilant in the face of only having had a half-day of school. Spike had been nominated to tell the sixteen-year-old, that they were off on a hellmouth-y sitch, which not surprisingly, Dawn took well. She was afterall quite used to it, by now.
So, at barely half-past 1pm, with everyone safely in the car, Willow pulled from the driveway of 1630 Revello Drive, and headed to LA.
Part 7
Wes exited the office, but noticed that Angel and Cordy had left the lobby. He knew he couldn’t put this off, so he started toward the stairs, intending on finding them, and explaining everything. The sight of Gunn seated upon the couch playing another video game, halted his progress however. The darker man didn’t seem to notice Wes, which gave the older man a chance to look at him closely.
For the past two weeks, Gunn had been successfully avoiding him. He missed the companionship of Gunn; it had been hard losing Fred to the younger man, but in the end he had accepted it, and moved beyond it, now however, it looked as if he was losing his friend, and that hurt a lot.
However, instead of confronting Gunn, Wes merely walked on, knowing his friend would come to him when he was ready. For now, Wes had more important things to worry about. Namely an apocalypse, and a strange prophesy that may or may not stop it. He hustled up the stairs, not noticing the look Gunn shot at him. But Lorne did. And so did Fred.
***
Upstairs:
Cordy and Angel had left the lobby once Wes had gone into his office. Knowing he could take awhile, and seeing that Connor was fast becoming cranky, the two paranormal investigators decided to join the toddler in a short nap. Within minutes the two were fast asleep, laying atop Angel’s king sized bed, with Connor nestled between their bodies.
**Dream**
Cool hands, lips . . . kissing, caressing . . . grasping hands, wet mouths, clashing teeth. A flash of yellowed eyes . . . smooth chest, hard chest, soft touches, quick bites, soothed by a swift lick. Hips arched, mouths gasping, open in silent screams, pushed to the very edge . . . a sly grin, a flash of platinum locks . . .
**End Dream**
Angel shot upright, gasping for unneeded air, his body on fire. Glancing around he took stock of the lovely female body sleeping deeply in his bed, before taking in the time. 1:15pm. Only 15 minutes or so since they had come up and fallen asleep. Angel’s head fell hard against his pillow, his arm going over his eyes as he sighed heavily. *WHAT THE FUCK! SPIKE?*
Meanwhile, Cordy slept on.
**Dream**
Softness, like silk . . . smooth and warm, pillowed in the warmth of arms . . . breathless, soft kisses, whispery breaths against nipples, long elegant fingers, touching, delving into softness, silky wet softness. A flash of pale flesh, a winsome grin, and flashing green eyes, silky copper-colored hair . . .
**End Dream**
“Oh GOD!” Cordy whispered into the darkened room. Her body hummed with tension, her body reacting instantly to the erotic and highly sensual dream. “Jesus CHRIST!”
“Cordy?” Angel asked the young woman lying beside him in the large bed. He had sensed her tension instantly, and became concerned, fearing another vision. However the next instant disproved the theory of a vision, as the scent of Cordy’s desire and arousal floated into the room. He immediately guessed the cause.
“Dreaming?”
“Yeah, Angel . . .” Cordy sighed heavily. “We HAVE to figure out where these things are coming from! It’s too . . . hard!”
“Yeah. I know.”
***
90 miles North of L.A. on I-17 South:
Less than 15 minutes into the drive, Willow had given up on driving, knowing that she was simply too tired to continue. Dawn had enthusiastically taken the wheel, and now Willow sat in the passenger seat, watching the cars pass them by. Slowly her mind calmed to an almost trance-like state, listening to the steady thump-thump sound of the tires over the highway, and the faint sound of Dawn and Spike’s music pouring from their respective headphones. Her body gave up the ghost and she slipped into dreamland.
**Dream**
Darkness enfolded her, save for a faint greenish light, coming from nowhere in particular. It’s eerie glow creeped her out, it never wavered, or grew brighter or dimmer, just cast a faint illumination over her body. Willow had tried to cast a spell to see further, but nothing seemed to work. Suddenly Willow had the uneasy feeling of being watched.
“Hello? Is anyone there? Uhm . . .Here?” Willow called out into the darkness. Not a thing could be heard. Yet Willow was positive that someone was out there, watching her.
A breath of sound - - Willow spun around, expecting to find someone there, but the space was empty. Again a whisper of a breath made Willow spin to see who stood behind her, but no one was there. Willow was becoming scared, and her voice shook as she called out to the unseen presence, “Who is there? What am I doing here? What’s happening?”
She flung her hands out, trying to feel for the source of her uneasiness. Her hands connected to a solid surface, and she jerked back in surprise. The person who now stood before her grasped her hands, refusing to let them go. Willow tried to see who held her hands, but all she could see were the hands that held hers. The greenish light obviously wasn’t going to extend itself to glow on this person.
Suddenly the hands released hers, and moved to hover over her back, and it was in that instant that Willow realized that she was unclothed, her body naked to the eye of this . . . presence. She moved her hands to cover herself, but the mysterious hands stopped her, and as if by magic, Willow was forced to lie down upon the floor, the force also keeping her immobile.
Those mysterious hands began a strange hovering dance over her flesh, never once touching her, yet she seemed to feel them over every inch of her flesh. Kneading, caressing, invading, never stopping their sensual dance inches above her flesh. Willow’s defenses melted, as this mysterious presence brought ecstasy to her body, all without ever touching her.
Her legs were spread wide, her hair a halo about her, her skin flushed nearly as deep a crimson as her hair, and she panted breathlessly. The hands never stopped, and for the first time they began dipping down and caressing her flesh, bringing even more of the glorious sensations Willow reveled in. A light touch on her mouth, as if in a kiss, a soft stroke of fingers upon her stomach, a fluttery touch on her upper thigh, and then those delightful digits were invading her most secret places. Plunging into her body deeply, before retreating, only to repeat the motions time and again, never relenting. Stroking her internally, seeking out her most fervent responses.
Willow cried out, her voice raised in joyous release . . . her eyes open yet nearly unseeing. Finally able to move she reached out to grasp the hands that brought her to such a climax, the hands did not resist, and she pulled them close to her, entwining her fingers with them, sighing happily.
“Who?” Willow didn’t elaborate, unable to make herself more coherent. There was no response, nothing to indicate who had brought her such pleasure. Willow pulled herself to a sitting position, never relinquishing her hold on the hands of her mysterious lover. Pulling them to her body, she tackled the body she knew to be attached to them. And found she was staring into the liquid brown depths of Cordelia Chase’s eyes.
**End Dream**
Willow rushed back to consciousness, her body jerking upright. Her sudden movements startled Dawn, the car swerving slightly in response. Dawn looked at Willow curiously, but Willow simply ignored the younger girl, staring out the window in disbelief.
*What the HELL? I mean - - I was questioning my own sexual orientation not two hours ago, cause I have feelings for Spike, and I mean I was having some weird thoughts about Cordelia in some of the other dreams . . . But still! * Willow babbled to herself. *How the HELL am I supposed to look at Cordelia in the face now? *
Meanwhile . . .
In the back-seat of the car, ensconced in the little tent of canvass he had set up for himself, Spike smelt the evidence of Red’s desire, and knew that whatever she had just dreamt was on par with his own erotic coupling with his Grand-sire. Whatever else these dreams were meant to do, they were making the old feelings he had repressed for Angelus reemerge, in a vicious way. And having worked so hard to repress them, he was more than a little disconcerted with how easily the dreams were working to destroy his carefully built walls. And more than a little frustrated.
*The hell of it is that I would give anything to have that closeness back, but the grand-poof has destroyed that. He left us, me, when he got his soul the first time, and when he had lost it before, he ignored me in favor of destroying my relationship with Dru. He thought nothing of me, he didn’t look my way in that special way at all, disregarded all our time together, all the years we spent killing, fucking, loving . . . Why the hell should I give a damn about him now? * But Spike didn’t have the answer for that, and he was seriously afraid of what the answer might end up being.
TBC