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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok guys, here it is chapter 7.
Please review and let me know what you think.
Thanks to cordykitten, Lacey Marsters, anon462, dark amia, and PhotographyNut for liking this enough to keep reviewing.
Bitchee:
Willow was worried, and the fact that she was worried again so soon after the last time… Well that in it’s self was a worry.

She had just finished putting the ingredients together for the spell to locate Tara’s book, when her mobile trilled urgently.
The strains of home on the range letting her know that it was Kennedy calling.
She answered the phone with some small amount of trepidation, knowing in advance that it was time for the first of many lies, if she was to keep her word to Spike.


Kennedy of course had been sweet and totally clueless.
All with the I miss you and I love you and the when are you coming home.
Even mentioning casually that Buffy had called, asking her to get Will to call her back as soon as possible

No, Kennedy didn’t know what she wanted, but she figured from the urgency in Buffy’s voice that it must be something important… and did Willow want to call her, or should she give Buffy Will’s new cell number if she called again.

Willow told her not to worry, she’d give Buffy a call as soon as she was free, and not to bother with the new number because she would probably be out of range for the next few days.

“Yes in Devon, working on some really heavy healing magic” offered Willow, crossing her fingers against the lie.
Well half lie, she consoled herself, the healing part was true.
With relief, she said her goodbyes to her girlfriend, after reassuring her that she would see her in a couple of days.

“Well I think I’ve brought us some time,” she murmured to the unconscious vampire.
It’s a good thing I just got a new cell and number, or Buffy would have contacted me by now, she thought with relief.
Now all she had to worry about was Buffy contacting the coven, because if she did that then both her and Spike were screwed.

Ok, not gonna think about that, she told herself sternly.
First, concentrate on the spell to get the book, fix Spike, and then worry about Buffy later.

Just as she was getting the last of the ingredients ready for the finders keepers spell, Illyria entered the room carrying a small portable refrigerator, like the kind used in classrooms or labs.

“I have brought the blood as you requested Witch.
I will go now… the stabilization of this shells former image has depleted me.
Do not disturb me again tonight, Willow Rosenberg” Illyria ordered, her voice full of threat.
“Or” she added “you will come to rue the day you were born.”

Without another word, the former God King placed the refrigerator on the floor by the side table, turning and leaving the room without even a backward glance.

“O… Kaaay! Well that was interesting,” muttered Willow.
“And let’s not forget disturbing and kinda rude.” moving forward she kneeled to check the contents of Illyria’s burden.

Wow, she thought, checking the various labels on the bags of blood in the storage unit.
After checking twice, she determined that she had at least 23 human, 14 demon, 10 bovine, 12 swine, and strangely enough 2 that were labeled otter?
Huh? Oh well each to there own. She gave a mental shrug before double-checking the blood supplies.
Sorting through the human, she worked out that most of it must have come from employees at Wolfram and Hart, each bag was marked with a persons name and the date of collection, as well as the actual blood type.

I must remember to ask Illyria why they had employee blood in the lab, she wondered vaguely. Mentally comparing and cataloging the demon blood to see if any was vamp compatible, she was on her fifth bag of something called a horexion demon, and trying desperately to banish the mental picture that she kept getting with the name, when she hit the jackpot.


She reached to pick up the sixth bag and nearly dropped it in surprise upon seeing the carefully labeled name.
Angel… Vampire.

Ok now we’re cookin with gas, she thought gleefully.
God that was lame, Ok girl note to self, too much late night cable screws with the quipping.
Giving herself a mental eye roll she returned to the sorting.

Right… so she had Angels blood? Sire’s blood, to be more precise.
And didn’t she remember Spike telling her that the next best thing to Slayers blood, was sire’s?
Now the only problem was should she give it to him now, in the hope that it would help him more than the human… or should she conserve it until she was sure that it would help.

Hmm… what to do?
Putting the blood aside for the moment, she inspected the remaining contents of the refrigerator, hoping to find something else that might stave off the immediacy of her decision.

She was disappointed to find that the rest of the demon blood was mostly useless for her needs, and the one pack of Angels seemed to be all there was.

Ok, so at the end of the day I have 45 bags of usable animal and human and 5 usable demon types.
That leaves six I can’t categorize and if Spike is to be believed one bag of vampire heal all.

“Ok so I can’t afford to waste Angel’s blood,” she muttered to herself.
So maybe the best thing to do would be to mix a little of it with the human just to give the human a boost!
If I do that and include the herbs and other stuff Illyria found downstairs then at least I’ll have some Idea of whether I need to give him more the next time.
Relieved that she had at least decided on some sort of course of action she turned to the odd assortment of stuff provided by the blue demon.

Sorting through the contents that Illyria had brought up earlier she found the herbs she had requested along with a few others that she hadn’t thought of at the time but were defiantly an added bonus.

Whoa, she thought, someone round here was pretty proficient in the magic department. Some of the herbs in the pile were really obscure and a few of them shockingly expensive..

Oh well, who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth... And hey! came the irrelevant thought… there goes the ode to late night cable again.
I really have to socialize more when I get back home… my pop culture quips are now outdated and lame.

She giggled a little at her thoughts, the surreal ness of her situation hitting home.
Here she was holed up in a spooky old hotel, hiding out from her friends and lover, to heal a former evil vampire with only the help of a former God… and she was berating herself cos her mental quips were dated.

Wow! It’s been a long day, she marveled, shaking her head ruefully.
Ok here goes she thought, adding the last ingredient, Angel’s blood.

She used a syringe to draw off a very small amount of the potentially precious fluid and carefully dripped it into the bowl with the other ingredients.
Using her athame to mix the contents she recited a quick prayer to the goddess, asking for her blessing before turning to the still unconscious vampire.

“Wakey wakey Spike…. time to drink your medicine” she singsonged, more than a little groggy herself from the combination of fumes and magic coming from the potion she held.

Spike’s brow twitched briefly, before smoothing out again just as quickly.
Tipping the potion towards him so it was under his nose, she called his name again, urging him to drink.

Again, his brow rippled as though his game face was just below the surface, but he either didn’t have the energy to sustain it or couldn’t raise his head enough to be able to drink.
Not wanting to waste the potion Willow frowned for a moment before inspiration struck.

Putting the potion carefully to the side, she found her bag and started searching its contents.

“Ah ha” she crowed, triumphantly pulling a straw from her bag.
“Now who’s silly because she prefers bendy to straight.
Hmm Freudian much there Will?” she muttered to herself, once again rolling her metaphorical eyes.
She unwrapped the straw, stuck it in the potion and returned to the vampire’s bedside.
Reaching down she carefully placed her hand under the base of his neck.

“C’mon Spike, you have to wake up and drink this”, she urged, tilting the straw so it brushed his lips.

This time his demon must have caught the scent of the blood. To her relief he parted his ravaged lips and took the straw in his mouth.
He sipped for several minutes, and Willow couldn’t help be reminded of all the time’s they had fed him in a similar fashion when he was a “guest’’ in Giles bathtub.

Course, back then he had been just an evil vampire that they were keeping alive for information, where now he was a… a… Well?…. a not so evil vampire that had saved the world.

Ok, so she had to admit it, somewhere along the way Spike had become if not a friend then someone that was part of all their lives.
And now he was back when he should be dust and she found herself with the desperate need to keep him that way.
As he drank from the straw, Willow started thinking of exactly what his being back might mean to Buffy and Dawn.


Dawn certainly missed him more than anyone would have expected.
She had been overwhelmed with guilt in the months after Sunnydale’s collapse.
Guilt, that she had let him die without telling him she had forgiven him for the attack on Buffy, and his subsequent leaving of herself .
At first Dawns, sorrow was so overwhelming that Willow had failed to notice her sisters quieter grieving.

Then came the night she had gone to the rooftop.

It was in one of the apartment buildings they had been staying in, in some city whose name she couldn’t remember.
She had gone up for a little quiet time, to get away from the noise and confusion that was the currant gaggle of newbie slayers.

Stepping out on to the roof top she had sighed in relief at the quiet of the early evening, the distant sound of traffic below in the street a soothing rhythm that made her feel as if she was miles from people, rather than meters.

It was not until she had moved closer to the railing at the edge of the roof that she had realized she wasn’t alone.

As she was about to retreat and leave the unknown person to there solitary pursuits, her ears heard what she had missed over the lambent sound of the traffic.
Sobbing… quiet desperate heart breaking sobbing… very familiar sobbing.

“Buffy?” she had inquired her voice hesitant but concerned.
“What’s wrong Buffy? Is there anything I can do?”
Moving forward she placed her hand on the slayers back moving it in small soothing circles as the blond continued to sob in a way that Willow had never heard from her, not in seven years on the Hellmouth… not even after Angel.

“Please Buffy” Willow entreated, growing concerned when her friend didn’t or couldn’t answer her. She stiffened with a sudden terrible thought.
“Oh Goddess Buffy what’s happened?… is something wrong with Dawn?” gasping fearfully she wracked her brains for a reason that could possibly cause the depth of sorrow her friend was exhibiting.

Instead of the answer she was dreading her friend managed to blurt out one word through her choked sob’s.
And admittedly it was the last one that Willow had expected.

“Spike!”

Willows brow furrowed in confusion before suddenly clearing.

Buffy was grieving for the vampire that had loved her… grieving for the man that had saved the world.
And it only just now dawned on her that her friend had probably been doing this ever since they left Sunnydale.

Anger at her self, and the others overwhelmed her, as she realized that Buffy had been hiding her grief for the vampire, just as she had once hid their damaged relationship.
And probably for the same reasons.

“It’s Ok Buffy” Willow offered, shame coating her tone and demeanor.
“It’s ok to miss him… he was… was a good friend and he loved you and Dawn.
He saved us all Buffy… he proved that he was better than any of us could have ever believed.
“But then” she said wryly “he always was different” remembering all the times over the years that Spike had done the unexpected.

“You know I never really told anyone” she confessed, “but when he first got the chip and came to the dorm to kill you…
“Yes well… off topic” she said flushing, as Buffy if possible sobbed even harder.
“The point is… even though he was in pain and angry as hell... and let’s not forget evil” she said with a grimace, “he still took a moment to comfort me over the fact that Oz had left.
You wanna know something funny, Buffy?
Whenever I think of Spike, I hardly ever remember the big bad vamp that wanted to kill us all.
I just remember all the times he was there when we needed him, like the way he punched Tara that time her dad tried to take her away… and the way he was tortured when he refused to tell Glory the key’s identity.
But the thing that I remember the most vividly” admitted Willow closing her eyes as she pictured it all again.
“The thing that I remember….That made me realize… made me see that he was more than just a vamp….Well it was cos of you actually… cos of the way he cried when you jumped from the tower.
Goddess… I’ve never seen anyone cry like that.” her voice trailed off lost in remembered awe.

“It was like there was nothing else in the world but that moment of pain, and that it would be all he ever felt until he died.
You know,” she said thoughtfully her eyes lost in memory. “If it wasn’t for Dawn I really don’t think he would have lasted the day.”

Her eyes filled with regret and wonder, she turned to look at her best friend whose tears still streamed down her face.
“I miss him too Buffy “I su-suppose I never realized how much till tonight.”

Buffy turned her gaze to her best friend; her sobbing beginning to slow, tears on her cheeks glimmering wetly in the light from the street below.




“Oh Willow,” she rasped out. “I just miss him so much.
I told him Willow…. I told him and he didn’t believe me…
I don’t know what to do Will, I can’t believe he’s gone and I just don’t know what I’m gonna do”
Her question, ending with a hiccuping sob, was that of a small child that has been punished and does not know the reason why.

Willow found herself at a loss. What could she say, or do to help Buffy feel in any way better. There was nothing she could say that could take away the pain her friend was feeling.


Instead, to delay answering a question she had no answers for she asked a question herself.

“What was it that he didn’t believe Buffy?” She asked gently.

Tear beaded lashes rose, and hazel eyes made green like the sea after a storm met the witches.


And all of a sudden Willow didn’t need to hear Buffy’s answer; she could read it in her friend’s stricken gaze.

“OH” said Willow “OH”… Are you sure Buff? cos maybe you miss understood him.
You know Spike… he was all about the mixed signals” she volunteered, desperate to make things better for her best friend.

Buffy’s eyes closed briefly, as though shutting out the sight of the world helped her cope with her memories in some way.
When she opened them again Willow felt her heart lurch in sympathy at the pain and grief that the Slayer could no longer hide.

“It was in the Hellmouth Will... we were there and the light it... the light was just pouring out of him.
It was so… so beautiful Willow… so very beautiful.
I saw his soul Will” she breathed out in awe.
“I saw his soul and it burned him to ash… But… but before…Before it happened, I held his hand… and the light from him…. The love in him…
Oh God Will’s… our souls they touched, and our hands they… they were on fire.”
She sobbed then, the tears welling in her eyes spilling over as she remembered that last day in the Hellmouth.

“A-and…and then I told him Willow… I told him I loved him… he was going to die and I told him I loved him.”
She laughed harshly, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“You wanna know something Will?” she asked, staring at her friend, her eyes bleak in their loss.
“Instead of it giving him comfort and peace, or even better… him being Spike and fighting it so he could be with me.
He just looked at me and smiled and then… then he said… he said... No you don’t but thanks for saying it. He told me to leave Will…. that he had to finish it”…
“Why Willow. Why?”
Buffy’s voice was so broken and lost that Willow felt her own heart crack at the loss in her friends’ voice.
“He could have left Willow?” she choked out, the question in her voice pleading for answers that Willow couldn’t give.
“We had won… he could have just taken the dam amulet off and just ran.
But instead he stayed to be a stupid hero and… and he didn’t believe me Will... he didn’t believe me…”
She broke down again then, crying like her heart was gonna break, arms wrapped around herself, she rocked against the pain of her words.


“God Willow why couldn’t I make him believe me? I could feel what he felt for me... he must have felt it too.
If I had just made him believe… just stayed one more moment or argued like I always did with him…
Maybe he would have believed me enough to come… enough to save himself.
“OH GOD…. OH GOD she cried, the pain like something physical trying to claw its way out of her chest.
“I can’t do this… I just cannot do this… He’s gone… he said he wouldn’t leave... not ever… and he’s gone Will… he’s gone…”

Willow spent the next half an hour cradling her distraught friend trying to reassure her that Spike did know that she’d loved him. That he wouldn’t have wanted Buffy to feel this way. He would have wanted her to live, to go on, to remember him proudly as a hero.

But all the words that Willow used to placate her friend, to try and ease her grief, still didn’t change the fact that Buffy’s pain was something she had to face by herself.
Something she would have to come to terms with before she could move on with any sort of life.
And as much as Willow would like to think that what Buffy was feeling was due to her guilt as much as it was her feelings for the absent vampire… she was nowhere as good at denial as Xander.
Sure guilt was part of it, but no way was it the main part.

Simply put, Buffy was grieving because she had lost the man she was in love with, and his being gone was something that she just could not seem to accept.


Willow was abruptly brought back from her memories of the past by the sound of the last of the potion being sucked through the straw.

Shaking her self from her introspection, and lets face it right on the verge of a big old fashioned cry fest. She tried to distract herself from thoughts of Buffy’s reaction to Spike’s…..Well Spike’s everything to be honest.
She had to make Spike believe that Buffy would want to see him.

Ok, so maybe she was dating The Immortal now, and they did seem to be getting awfully snugly, but she knew her friend well enough to know when she was in love.
Ok, so Yeah, maybe she’d missed the whole Spike and Buffy show, but that was different. Buffy and she were closer now… and there was no way Buff was in love with what Kennedy referred to as her Italian Stallion.
In like maybe… but none of the love.
So it would only be of the good if she somehow managed to get Spike to agree to see the slayer.

Ok back to the whole I’ll worry about it later. She sighed as her thoughts came full circle.

“Right Spike let’s see if the potion helped any” she said cheerfully.

Peeking under the bandages at a couple of his wounds soon had her attempt at chirpy fading.
She was no doctor but it didn’t look like the potion had helped at all, if anything the bite wounds looked even worse.

Though?… hold on a second, examining the non bitey wounds… the smaller wounds, that she had assumed were claw and weapon marks, she noticed they at least seemed to be healing.
Ok… she mused biting her lip. The non dragon wounds are healing but the dragon one’s are getting worse.
Which means? Illyria was right, and that I really need to get my hands on that book right now.

Ok first things first, I need to get some blood into him before he wastes away to nothing.
Hmm… at least I think he’ll waste before he dust’s but… oh who am I kidding….
I don’t have clue what I’m doing she thought, as panic of the Willow variety threatened to rear its ugly head.

“Ok... ok, blood” she muttered “I can do blood… just feed him, then do the spell Will, then you can find the answer and go home and snuggle with your honey.”

Pep talk complete and feeling in no way calmer Willow went to the refrigerator and selected a bag of each type of blood.
Using a large plastic jug provided earlier by Illyria, Willow mixed demon, human and animal blood together and sprinkled a few more healing herbs into it.
Then after doing a quick spell, warming it to body temperature she moved back to Spike’s bedside and again cradled his head in her hand as she urged him to drink.

At first, she was afraid he wouldn’t respond, that he was too far under the influence of his pain and the potion she had given him.
But with a little patience and some really loud yelling of his name she eventually got him to open his mouth to drink the blood.
It took her much longer than it should have to get the blood into him, and Willow was disturbed to notice that the whole time he had been drinking he hadn’t even looked like vamping out.

She was pretty sure, from what Spike had said in the past, after Glory’s beating, that if a vamp didn’t go into game face when he needed to feed, then it meant that he either had really great control, or he was so far gone that he was dust buster bound.



Looking at Spike, she somehow doubted he was refraining from vamping out just to spare her sensibilities, so that meant if she didn’t find a way to help him real soon she wouldn’t have to worry about telling Buffy anything.

Willow went to the window and peeked past curtains that had been drawn against the night.
The sun was coming up and traffic was starting to build up in the street below the hotel.
Los Angeles was coming to life while she felt like death warmed over.

She had expended a great deal of magic in the past several hours and it would take even more to bring Tara’s book here, then there was the whole conceal spell that she would have to do to keep anyone from finding them.
It would be better if she could just take Spike somewhere else; somewhere they would be able hide without worrying about needing magic to conceal them.

She rested her head against the glass of the window and sighed wearily.
She was far too tired and drained to attempt the finder’s keeper spell now, and moving Spike was out of the question.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Buffy’s presence… not until tonight.
It would take that long for her to get a flight from Rome, assuming she had even heard about Angel’s crew.

Willow sighed again before pulling the curtains closed and turning back to face the vampire.
She couldn’t help Spike without her magic and her magic had a tendency to be a little wonky when she was tired, so the best thing she could do right now, would be to get some rest.

Looking around the room Willow decided that the old armchair leaning drunkenly in one corner would have to do.
Spike was too damaged to be left alone, and even if she could find Illyria within the maze that was the Hyperion, she doubted after the former God’s warning that she’d be welcomed.

Lowering herself gingerly into the rickety old chair Willow pulled out a blanket she had dragged out of the bundle of stuff that Illyria had provided.
Pulling it around herself she wriggled and squirmed trying to make herself comfortable.
After about ten minutes of such she concluded that, it just wasn’t happening and gave up.
Closing her eyes she did her best to ignore said discomfort and attempted to relax, hoping that the sheer exhaustion of her body would do the rest.
Fortunately, for Willow, years of late night research in hard wooden chairs benefited her in this instance.
Within minutes of closing her eyes, the witch was fast asleep.





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