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13. Seeing Red.

“Drink this, it’s barley coffee - perfect for intestinal regularity.”
Faith looked at the cup with suspicion, then sipped at it, and its pleasant taste surprised her. In the suburbs, where she had lived until she met the Mayor, there was nothing so delicious… a second-rate bourbon at the beginning of the day was probably more common.
“So, Buffy the Vampire Slayer has welcomed into her…ahem, boudoir…two dangerous vampires: Angelus, the Scourge of Europe and William the Bloody. Did they…force her?”
Faith’s expression was incredibly significant.
“Well. Really, Faith, you’ve done a very good job. Now we only have to decide what to do next. We’ll attack them with an original strategy…they will be surprised, you’ll see. We just have to wait for the right occasion…and we need Buffy far away.”
“And Darla?” Faith asked.
The Mayor smiled. “That’s the best part…Darla can’t do anything at all. And she can’t blame us: she said it herself, her goal is the same as ours. She wouldn’t dare to complain.” Wilkins bent to look deeply into Faith’s eyes. “I just want to get rid of those two vampires. Is that asking too much?”
“What is your plan, boss?” the girl asked, wringing her hands instinctively. “Stake? Crossbow? Shall we set their decadent, pretty mansion on fire?”
“The books I’ve given you are so good for you, Faith, really! Your vocabulary is clearly improving.” The Mayor smiled, pleased. “But I was thinking about something more artistic than that…I’m sure that your obstinate friend, Angelus, will enjoy the poetry of it.” Wilkins pushed the intercom button. “Finch, come into my office immediately.”
Faith stared imperturbably, eating a pastry, at the mayor’s assistant - a good-looking young man – as he entered the office.
“Open the dimensional line…you know which one.”
Finch nodded, though his forehead was covered in sweat, due to stress.
From a little square box that looked like a remote control came a stream of static current which became a portal. Amazed, Faith saw a tall man stepping out from the portal: he was dressed in a dark cowl that covered his face.
“You called, master?” His voice, deep and raucous, disturbed Faith’s tranquillity. Finch was clearly completely terrified.
“Have you got that little thing I’ve asked you about?” the mayor asked in his sweet and reassuring voice.
The mysterious man nodded, then he placed on the mayor’s desk a little bottle filled with a dark fluid.
He bowed and entered back into the portal, which disappeared with a “pouf”.
“It’s more convenient than UPS …and cheaper, too,” Wilkins stated with a smile. “Now, my dear, let me explain my plan…”


Anxious not to meet, Willow and Xander ran into each other between the maths and the history rooms.
“This is getting more and more ridiculous,” the guy protested. “You’re avoiding me since that night at the Bronze…and you’re my best friend, Willow!”
“Shh, keep your voice down -” terrified, Willow glanced around, looking for Oz. They still hadn’t met that morning.
“Why? People would be surprised by the fact that we’re talking?”
“People would be surprised by the fact that you’re holding my hand Xan” she replied, without freeing it.
“You’re doing the same” he added in a low voice.
“Please, stop…” she begged him.
“Let’s go somewhere else for a minute. I know where…the first few times with Cordelia we always hid in a closet.”
Willow looked at him, surprised. As far as she remembered, two seconds after he had dismissed Buffy, Xander became Cordelia’s official boyfriend. Then, she understood…
“No…”
“C’mon”
Despite herself, Willow followed him into a nearby closet. There was an awful smell of dust in there. Xander pushed her against the yellow wall more rudely than he wanted, and put his hands under her blouse. Willow held her breath…but she didn’t protest. When he bent over her lips she opened them…but her mind was full of questions. What would happen if Oz and Cordelia had seen them? And if Buffy…if, if, if, if…
“We must stop” she whispered, with swollen lips, tousled hair and her bra undone. Xander looked at her, and, with a resolution she had never known, he put his hands under her skirt.
“No!” Willow cried out, then she bit her lip. Confused, she picked up her books and stepped out of the closet.
“Hey!” Oz greeted her, just around the corner.
“Don’t touch me, I’ve got the flu!” she tried to justify.
“Ah…now I understand why you look so…flushed?”
Willow tidied up her sweater as she came into the IT lab. That was the so scary…and so longed for day…she had to replace the IT teacher.


After the first five minutes of fear, Willow relaxed; she tried to forget her undone bra, helped in that by her loose sweater. The subject was easy, Miss Calendar’s instructions were even easier, and everything went even better than she had hoped. Nobody was nasty to her and everyone respected her authority. Everything was going extremely well, until Miss Calendar came back.
Willow became sad: her moment of glory had been spoiled.
Jenny looked at her impassively, and started the lesson from the point Willow had stopped. She left the teacher’s desk sadly, and all the things she had done wrong in the last few days came into her mind: her secret affair with Xander, the lies she had told Oz, the secret file she had copied, her reticence to speak with Buffy.
And she couldn’t even end her stand-in in peace.
Jenny Calendar relaxed only when she was alone again, in her lab, in front of her pc. Her journey to L.A had been very useful, but the things she had learned from her people had filled her heart with restlessness.
The action she was planning was not only doubtful and maybe useless…but it was also dreadfully dangerous. Jenny was a beautiful, intelligent and extremely modern woman…but when her people’s blood was shed, instinctively she turned back to her people, their traditions, and their stories. She knew they were proud of her…but she also knew they hadn’t forgiven her reticence or fear. Only the mission was important. And she didn’t feel so different from that bold blonde girl, the Slayer. She was just more conscious.
Rubbing her eyes, tired due to the long night trip, she went on with her translation, without knowing that someone else was doing the same thing in the next classroom, with a little English- Romanian dictionary and a lot of cheek…



“Buffy? Would you concentrate please?”
“What?” the girl answered, raising her head from her researches. Giles was looking at her with worried - and unaware - eyes.
“You look tired today,” her watcher noticed. “Did you get home late last night?”
“Ah-ah.” Buffy nodded, feeling so tired and aching…in the most private and secret parts of her body; and empty, with no more energy and emotion left. She had fought a long battle with herself during those days…and she was brilliantly losing it.
“What about your researches on Angelus? Have you found his hiding place?”
“What? Angelus…no. Nothing to do with that.”
“Go back to Willy’s tonight…if you’re feeling better. Maybe he could have some news for you.”
“Maybe” Buffy admitted flatly. “Mr. Giles” she said then raising her eyes, proved by the previous night’s events. “Have you ever heard about…bad slayers?”
“What do you mean?” Giles enquired. “Ah, I see. You’re talking about Faith. A slayer devoted to evil forces”
“Yeah…but not just that” Buffy explained. “I mean…in general…in the Slayers’ history. Have you ever heard about slayers…attracted by vampires?”
Giles took off his glasses and began to clean them actively.
“You have been reading the Watcher Diaries once again, have you?”
“I shouldn’t have to do that, right?”
“Maybe…and maybe not. Buffy, everyone - at the end of the story - is responsible for their own actions…and only for that.”
“I agree” the girl admitted passionately. “But I’m just curious to know if that’s a typical slayer feature…or if it’s common only for some among them…being in l…attracted by the same creatures they’ve sworn to defeat. Like…models and skinniness, dancers…and homosexuality.”
Giles sighed. “To be honest, yes, sometimes that has happened.”
“And…how did it end up?”
Giles looked at her. “Always in a bad way. Usually the vamp has killed, or turned the slayer. And vampire-slayers have never been good…most of the times they went crazy like…crazy horses”
“Ah” Buffy stated, shaken. “Has this happened…often?”
“Twice during this Century”
“Oh God”
“Buffy…why are you asking me all these questions?” Giles asked. “Has a vampire tried to seduce you?”
“Who? Me? No…I was merely curious Mr. Giles. You know…if you know your enemy…”
“Well” Giles admitted. He felt dreadfully like Joyce in that respect, but sometimes he preferred not to know. And, plus, he was sure he didn’t have anything to fear with Buffy. Since the first moment she had demonstrated herself to be an unusual slayer, but she was also a top quality one. No, he had nothing to fear.
She knew her mission very well.
“Remember to go to Willy’s” he told her, as she went home.
“Ok” she nodded lazily. Giles’ words had really depressed her. She began to believe she was being condemned to an unavoidable destiny…whose future could be only death, or vampirism, or insanity…or all these three things together.
She thought about Spike’s warning words.
And then she thought about the previous night.
And then she told herself that - if only the prospect hadn’t excited her so much, she could have tried to find someone to punish her, and soon, to free her from her unbearable feeling of guilt.


Evening time in Sunnydale: and the night seemed quiet. The small fry kept their distance when the big ones came out to play, Spike thought. Since the war that had opposed Darla and Faith and Angelus and the other vampires from the Aurelius Order, the young demons and vampires had moved out of Sunnydale to find food in the rural centres and in the towns nearby, far from the Hellmouth. It was a simple natural law, after all.
Drusilla whimpered all day long, and she even irritated the usually so-patient Spike. Angelus had locked himself in his bedroom and didn’t move from it: he was probably in a very bad mood. When darkness fell on the town, Drusilla insisted they should go out together. She didn’t want to stay alone another night. She had accepted Spike’s weak excuses, without investigating further, and she didn’t ask anything of Angelus: she was insane, but not stupid, and she could keep her distance from her sire when he was such in a bad mood. But now she had become intransigent.
Angelus came out from his room at night, all dressed in black, and appeared next to Dru. He held his hand out to her, like a devoted knight, and she went to him like a queen, his queen. Spike raised his eyes to the sky and put his stick away: the previous night, despite all its contradictions, had given him his strength back. He thought it was due to the amazing Slayer’s blood…and her sweet womanliness.
He avoided other considerations, in order to enjoy his physical well-being completely. He knew this was not the right time to think about anything else.
And so, without saying a word, they went out. And they smelled- just for their pleasure- the sweet spring air.
“Where are we going?” Spike asked, lighting up a cigarette.
“To the Bronze” Angelus said, taking Dru’s arm. Slowly they walked to the club, dressed in black, handsome and lethal. The few people still around moved away instinctively, letting them pass.
Spike didn’t want to object, but he knew that Buffy was probably in the club, and Angelus knew that too.
What would Buffy do if she saw them slay?
What she had to do. Both of them knew that.
Suddenly, the air around them became tense. Over the main street of that small town fell a deep silence…and some shutters were closed immediately.
The three vampires stopped in front of the cinema, on the alert.
“Buffy?” Spike asked in a low voice.
Angelus smiled. “Don’t be silly. Darla.”
“Love, I’m so bored” said a woman’s voice, sweet and rehearsed, on the other side of the road. Angelus didn’t move, with his fists closed, and an alert expression. Darla wore a pair of elegant black leather trousers and a lamé top. “Always together. For centuries. I couldn’t stand it anymore”
“Your tastes have become worse, Darla…as has your company” Angelus lamented.
“Where is your pathetic slayer? Giving blow jobs to the first vampire she meets?”
“What do you mean?” Darla asked, knitting her eyebrows.
“Your protégée tried to fuck me.”
Darla laughed. “And so? That means she has good taste…”
“Could we finish this?” Spike said. “It’s a bit late and I’m hungry. If you don’t mind, I’ll go on ahead with Dru while you rehearse the last scene from the Bergman film, all right?”
“Spike’s right, I have to admit,” Angelus stated. “You’re behaving like an old neglected wife. Move aside and let me through, darling, because I refuse to pay your maintenance”
“Shh…” Drusilla whispered, walking next to her. “Daddy is so angry today. And he smells of ash…you smell of ground and flowers…isn’t that wonderful?”
“Stop, Dru” Darla stopped her with an arm. “Nobody moves from here. Alive.”
A dozen vampires came out from behind Darla.
“Oh, oh, I’m so scared” Spike smiled, throwing the fag end over his shoulder.
“What the hell do you want, Darla?” Angelus asked her, furious. “How many of your frivolous vampires do I have to dust before you understand that it’s over?”
Darla raised a hand…and she made a little, so little gesture.
And the attack began.
Drusilla was surrounded by three vampires, but she defended herself well despite her skinniness. When she had to she could fight like a lioness, and she had proved that more that once. Sure about that, Spike joined the fray, grateful to the slayer for the gift she had given him: her amazing blood, which still ran impetuously in his veins. His leg was still hurting, but he wouldn’t surrender in front of four teenage vampires. Angelus had taken from his sleeve a little deadly stake, and he was killing all his enemies with it. Darla was just watching…and only when she realized that only three of her vampires had survived, did she decide to attack Angelus directly herself.
“Just like the good old days, darling” he laughed. “You and me…in an alley”
“Stop it Angelus” she replied, furious. “I’ve lived more than one hundred years without you…and I’ll go ahead alone if it’s necessary. You wanted it.”
“Yeah…you told me you would show me the world, love…as far as dives and filthiness go, there are no doubts, but…”
Angelus’ sarcastic smile disappeared suddenly, more in surprise than in pain.
On the roof of the cinema, above the square, Faith stood smiling, so beautiful with her angel face and a bow in her hand. A Diana from the suburbs.
The arrow she let loose had perfectly reached its target.

Everything slowed down.
Angelus touched his chest, putting his fingers around the wooden arrow. Drusilla cried out…a long, modulated banshee cry that froze the blood in the dead vampires’ veins. Spike stopped his own fight and ran to help his grandsire, dusting another servant of Darla in his way though the square.
Darla stopped short; her eyes were full of dread.
Angelus was falling.
His three old companions were waiting for him to turn to dust in a moment.
But it didn’t happen.
He fell to the ground, without saying a word: his eyes were lost in the dark of that spring night.
“Damn, she missed him!” cried one of the vampires. Faith smiled, then she disappeared.
Darla stood there, looking at him…then she looked across at Drusilla. They had lived together too many seasons not to understand. Faith had hit her target perfectly.
Simply, she had never intended to kill him with the stake. Probably she had something worse in mind.
“Quick, we must get him away from here!” Spike shouted, trying to support the vampire in his arms. It was difficult, but he could pick him up at last.
Darla came closer, looking at them with a shocked expression. “I…I didn’t want…”
“What didn’t you want?” Spike replied. “To dust him? Yeah, you couldn’t do that, despite the continuous attempts of your followers. Not yet.”
Darla called her men back. “Let me stay with him, Spike! Damn it, he’s my childe!”
“Leave, Darla, or I’ll kill you” Spike threatened her, struggling to hold Angelus, who was a dead weight.
“Shh” Drusilla said, her eyes full of tears. “You’ve been so nasty, grandma, really too much…and daddy will not forgive you. There’s no time left for you…don’t you understand? There’s no more time for anybody!”
“Dru, stop it and…help me!” Spike broke the rear window of a car with a violent gesture. The alarm started to ring, but nobody came. Spike opened the car door, slid Angelus into the back seat, and swiftly went to hot-wire the engine. When Drusilla was next to him, her hands like nervous little birds on Angelus’ sweaty forehead, the car started.
Darla stood in the square, surrounded by the few vampires that had survived, her eyes full of tears.
Not like that…damn, not like that!
She told herself that the Mayor and Faith would have to pay for that, but first she had to discover what had caused Angelus to lose consciousness. The arrow itself was not enough, even if it had been close to the heart.
Faith had probably used a poison.



After a boring evening in the seven cemeteries of the town, Buffy went unenthusiastically to Willie’s, the worst dive of that lousy town. Doing the same things over and over - patrolling … killing…asking for information - relaxed her mind, too tired to ask herself “why” without finding an answer. As she entered the little, smoky room, something, maybe her instinct, told her immediately that there was something extremely wrong in the air. First of all, the bar was empty.
Willy turned pale when she saw her.
“Be quiet Slayer, it’s not a good evening. Big things are happening in town”
“Tell me or I…”
“Don’t waste your breath in threats. There is not one demon or a vampire left in town. And the ones who are left are helping Darla, the protégée of the Master”
“Why?” Buffy’s eyes glowed as she heard that so hated name.
“Tonight Darla attacked the Scourge…Angelus. And his companions, William the Bloody and Drusilla”
Buffy turned pale immediately. “Where? When?”
“Downtown, near the cinema. And, before you run…it’s better if you know that your friend, the other slayer, has brilliantly done half of the job”
“What?…” Buffy felt sick. It couldn’t be…
“She hit Angelus…well. We can say he deserved that. Coming to this town, putting on so many airs, trying to rule Sunnydale as the Master did…”
“Angelus…is dead?”
“Well, he’s surely not alive” Willy laughed, while Buffy fell on to a chair, careless of the filthiness of the place. “I mean…he’s a vampire…”
In a minute, Buffy stood up and she took him by the scruff of the neck.
“Speak, or I knock your head off. What happened to Angelus?”
“Relax Slayer, relax…I didn’t know you’d be so angry because your colleague arrived before you. She hit Angelus with a poisoned arrow…”
“What kind of poison? What are the consequences?”
“What do you think? He’ll die”
“Poison doesn’t kill vampires” Buffy replied, fighting to hold back the tears and to catch her breath again. Her heart was beating furiously and fast.
“This one, yes. It’s called ‘The killer of the Dead’ and it’s lethal for vampires. It will last for a couple of hours…maybe five or six. At dawn he will be dead. And he’ll become ash”
“There must be a cure…” she whispered, incapable of hiding her emotions.
“No cure at all. Hey, why are you so worried? You should be happy!”
Buffy hit the filthy barman right on the nose, and ran away. She couldn’t think….there was a single thought in her mind. She couldn’t let him die. She wasn’t ready to live in that world without him. And if that was turning her into a dreadful person…well she didn’t give a damn. She would find a cure, immediately, and then she would help him…even if she had to die.
When she arrived in the residential neighbourhood, she could hardly prevent herself from going straight to the mansion in Crawford Street to be with him. The cure…Giles. No, impossible. Giles would never help her to save the Scourge of Europe, even if she told him Angelus was her lov...lover.
Buffy gasped. There was only one person left: Willow.
Oh, Willow must help her. She would beg her…if necessary, she would threaten to tell everybody what she had done at Miss Calendar’s pc. Buffy ran to her friend’s house and desperately knocked at the door. Willow opened it with a sleepy face, probably already ready to go to bed.
Buffy closed the door behind her, and turned on the light.
“Willow…get dressed. We have to go to the Library”


“I still don’t know what we’re looking for. And, Buffy, if you haven’t realized …I still don’t know why we are looking for something”
“Listen to me” Buffy said, looking into her eyes. “It’s up to you now. I’ve broken into the school and into Mr. Giles’ office, plus, I’ve broken a window too. If they find us they’ll expel me…and I don’t give a damn. You must help me”
“I’m helping you” Willow yawned. “I’m here with you in the middle of the night. But I still don’t know why”
“Willow…do you remember the two guys I was dating? William and…the other one?”
“Sure, but..”
“Willow…they’re two vampires. Two powerful, ancient and famous vampires”
Her friend looked at her without saying a word: she was paying attention, at last.
“And…Willow…I fell in love” Buffy covered her face with her hands. “I’m a fool, I know that, but I can’t do anything to change it. Tonight Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, has been hit with a deadly poisoned arrow. The poison is called “the Killer of the Dead”. He’ll turn into ash in a couple of hours. And I can’t stand that…Willow, you must help me. If he dies…I don’t know what I will do”
Willow tried to speak …but she couldn’t.
“We’re not talking about Good and Evil. And not even about what’s right or wrong”, Buffy told her, crying. “It’s just about what I’m feeling now. I can’t let him die…and you’re my friend, you must help me. I died for mankind. Every night I slay against evil. But this time I have to think about me and my feelings. I…I must do everything I can to save his life. Willow, I would even threaten you. I…”
A glitter passed through Willow’s eyes. “Shhh…don’t threaten me Buffy” she whispered in a low voice. Then, she took the hand of her friend. “I’ll help you…you should know that. Do you think I could?”
Buffy nodded. “No one else could. Willow, only you know Mr. Giles’ books and all the things he hides from us. How could I convince him to help me? I couldn’t”
“No, you couldn’t, really” Willow admitted: she was already thinking about how to face this new challenge. Save a dangerous vampire…demonstrating once again that she wasn’t Miss Nobody but someone powerful. Someone unexpectedly powerful. Instinctively, she began thinking about what to do.
“You’ll have to break open that card-index holder, and also that wooden closet in the corner down there. Giles keeps his most dangerous books in it”
Buffy did it, without wasting any time. Now, she was only thinking about reaching Crawford Street. Willow would look for a cure in the books until she had found it…and she would take care of Angelus. Now that Willow was on her side Buffy felt hope again, stronger and more vital than before. Tomorrow she would have to justify the break-in to Mr. Giles: that wasn’t a problem.
The problem was to find a cure.
She turned back to thank Willow, but she was already deep in the books, frenetically engrossed in reading.
Cheered up, Buffy ran to Crawford Street.



As soon as she arrived in front of the big house, the slayer saw she was not alone. Darla was walking up and down nervously in front of the backyard door. Foolish with madness, Buffy attacked her, putting a stake on her heart.
“Give me just one reason why I shouldn’t kill you...here and now! You damn murderer! If Angelus dies, you’ll be the guilty one!”
Darla looked at her and Buffy was shocked to see her blue eyes filled with tears.
“It wasn’t my fault. It was Faith…that jealous, envious bitch!”
“But you put her against him!” Buffy pushed the stake deeper against her chest. A blood drop spoiled the lamé top Darla was wearing and she gasped.
“No…you don’t understand! I could dust him…but this…”
Buffy drew back: not because Darla was really telling the truth: she thought instead that only Angelus had the right to dust her.
But Angelus had to be cured first.
“Why don’t you look for a cure Darla, instead of standing here like a useless ghost? If you have some resources, God, use them!”
“They won’t let me in” the vampire whispered. “Spike…Dru…they won’t let me see him”
“Damn you!” furious, Buffy freed her with a push. Darla fell slowly to the ground, suddenly robbed of her usual poise and dignity. Ignoring her, Buffy entered the backyard. Spike noticed her and stopped her at the entrance. From there, Buffy could see - in the candlelight – Dru, who was bending over her sire, lying on a small bed, probably brought down from the upper floor.
“This is not the right time, Buffy. Angelus…”
“Let me pass” she growled. “I will take care of him. Don’t stand in my way and I’ll let you stay around…and alive. But tell your crazy girlfriend to leave now”
Spike sighed. “You can’t take Dru away from her sire. And I advise you to go back home to your own bed. This is not your world, Buffy…it’s not your family. It’s ours.”
“Spike, don’t force me to…”
“Buffy, I’ve told you twice: go away”
They looked into each other’s eyes. Buffy threw him across to the other side of the hall with a kick. Spike stood up, shaking his head. He realised he would get a stake right through his heart if he tried to keep Buffy away from Angelus that night. He rubbed at his stomach while Buffy came closer to Drusilla. The blonde slayer was shorter and skinnier than Dru…but she could be as lethal. Drusilla hissed at her like a cat.
“Watch out Slayer. I see only death around your head…death and ash and small fishes… “
Buffy took a stake out from her jeans. Drusilla started to shake. Suddenly Buffy understood she wasn’t scared…there were forces in the air that night that overcame knowledge and her consciousness…but Dru could feel them, in a certain way.
“Go now” Buffy said, kinder. “I’ll take care of him. Take Spike and go upstairs to your room”
Dru continued moaning. Spike came over and put his hand on her head: Dru immediately looked better. Spike and Buffy looked at each other with one of their usual complicit glances. Buffy almost smiled. Simply, he knew her. And she began to think that this could never change.
Alone with Angelus, Buffy sat down next to his bed and put her hand on his cold forehead, which was covered with beads of sweat. He was delirious. Once he regained consciousness momentarily…and he was surprised when he saw her sitting next to him.
“Buffy…what’s this? Why are you here?...why am I so…weak?”
“Shhh…” she whispered, holding his hands. “Someone hit you. We’re looking for a cure. Believe me, you’ll be better soon”
“Buffy…it’s so dark…”
“Yes, I know” she admitted, fighting to hold back her tears. It was really dark, despite Drusilla’s candles. And the hours of the night were endless.
In the deserted library, in the dark and silent school, Willow was fighting the boundaries of her mind and ambition.
And the dawn, the dawn of death which was waiting for Angelus was too close.



Willy had told her five or six hours…and seven had already passed. Angelus had been hit at eight o’clock in the evening…and he was still alive, due to his great inner strength. More and more weak, more and more absent…but alive. Minutes were passing slowly, and Buffy could feel them on her skin as if they were years.
When her cellphone rang it was ten to four in the morning.
Buffy found it hard to open it, due to her stress and fatigue.
“Willow” Buffy had to repeat herself: she was so emotional that she spoke too softly.
“Willow, talk to me”
Maybe there was no more hope. Maybe Willow had surrendered.
But Willow’s voice was full of an unfamiliar feeling…which had many characteristics in common with the hubris of the Greeks.
“Buffy, I’ve found the cure.”
Buffy’s heart stopped.
Angelus was immovable in front of her, and he was so pale…like a perfect corpse. Buffy held back a sigh.
“I found the cure!” Willow said again, openly exultant. Then, her voice sank to a whisper.
“I can’t hear you Willow!” Buffy cried, at last, upset. “Louder! Speak louder!”
Willow voice became finally sharp and distinct.
“I said I found the cure Buffy. But…I don’t think you’ll like it”





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