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Chapter 48

**

Previously:

As her mind wandered over the possibilities, she failed to notice the familiar figure that moved to intercept her. By the time the electricity from the tazer hit her, it was too late to do anything at all.

**
Joyce shot up in bed, her hand reaching for dressing gown as her feet found her slippers. A look of steely determination crossed her features. She was fighting this one. This was one vision that she would be arguing strenuously against following the way the Powers wanted it to go.

Making her way downstairs, she picked up the phone and dialled the familiar number. She spoke as soon as Giles’ sleepy voice answered.

“Buffy’s been kidnapped.”

~*~*~

Drusilla collapsed into Xander’s arms. Anya sidled up next to her, and with gentle insistence she urged the weakened vampire to drink a cup of blood from the thermos they had brought with them. It didn’t take long for the effect of the blood to become obvious, open wounds slowly closed and Dru smiled weakly at the two humans aiding her.

The voices where still there, but now she understood them. Facing her childe, she gave him what knowledge she could. “Ask for nothing, tell him to follow your heart’s desire, dearie. You need to trust me on this, William.”

Tilting his head to the side, Spike considered the brunette vampires thoughtfully. “What did you ask for, Dru?”

“I asked to be made what I needed to be to fulfil my destiny,” she replied in a calm, sweet voice.

Her three companions widened their eyes in shock. Not surprisingly, it was Anya who spoke first, cutting through society’s niceties to ask the question they all wanted the answer to. “Why aren’t you insane anymore?”

Drusilla smiled brightly. “Apparently as well as the soul I needed to be sane,” she giggled. Her expression changed from playful to serious in an instant. She swayed as if listening to music that only she could hear. Abruptly she stopped, jerking her head around, she met Spike’s eyes. “Go now, and remember what I told you. Fight well, champion.”

He spent a moment trying to decipher her behaviour, before nodding to each of them. Spinning on his heel and striding away from his small group of friends, he disappeared into the cave, his duster billowing behind him.

“Will he be alright?” Xander asked in a small voice, his concern for his friend palpable.

“We will need to gather more supplies. Spike will need us when he returns, victorious. We must also keep the news of your friend from him at all costs,” Drusilla replied as she gingerly lifted herself to her feet and moved to help herself to more of the blood supplies. For the first time ever, she was responsible for someone else. She knew she needed to be strong to care for them properly. This duty seemed small in the face of all that Spike had done for her in the past. She would protect his family until it was time for her to join her own.

“News of what friend?” Xander asked apprehensively.

Drusilla looked over to the frightened boy and smiled enigmatically. “She will be fine as soon as she gets angry enough. Your slayer just needs to take a leap of faith.”

~*~*~

“I don’t care!” Joyce snarled, furious. “Who ever he is, that bastard has my baby.”

“It has to be Buffy’s choice, Joyce. We will find her and we will help her, but she has to be the one to pronounce sentence on him. I don’t believe for a moment that both you and Cordelia receiving visions at the same time is a coincidence. We must acknowledge that.” Giles tried to calm the distraught mother with his calm tone. “We can only hope that Drusilla was not similarly affected. Or that she at least had enough sense not to tell Spike.”

A thoughtful silence followed his comment, each person silently envisaging the blond vampire’s reaction to the situation they now found themselves facing. Joyce vowed that if the brunette vampiress hadn’t told him, then she sure as hell would be telling him the moment he returned.

Not one of them noticed when the front door opened and closed.

“The seers told me you might need me?”

“WILLOW!”

~*~*~

Willow glanced around the room, revelling in the feeling of home that this group of people seemed to generate. It was good to be home.

After their enthusiastic greetings, the redhead asked for Cordelia and Mrs Summers to repeat their visions.

Cordelia went first.

“I didn’t see who or where it was. All I saw was Buffy chained to a wall and her head was down. When she lifted her eyes she was pissed. And I’m talkin’ more pissed than I was when that moron at the beauty shop screwed up my perm in the seventh grade. Seriously mega pissed.”

Joyce sighed deeply. Like her daughter, she hated inaction. Her child was out there, maybe hurt, and she was forced to repeat the same hateful vision over and over again. She didn’t regret her decision, but that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it all the time.

“I saw the same thing, but before that, I saw Buffy walking through Restfield and a shadow coming up behind her. I felt it when he tazered her. I felt her slip into unconsciousness. I don’t know how to explain it, but he felt familiar and definitely male.” Joyce shook her head in confusion, it was difficult to express the feelings that she had experienced in the vision, and she had no frame of reference to relate to. “After the part where Buffy got angry, I saw something strange. The only way I can explain it is that it felt like some sort of court case, but more intense and serious. There were words, too. They didn’t seem to come from anyone in particular, just seemed to float around the room. I’m sorry; I know I’m not doing this very well, but I can’t think of how else to explain it.”

Giles tentatively wrapped an arm around the frustrated woman in an attempt to console her. “You’re doing wonderfully, my dear,” he assured her. “Do you remember what the words were?”

“A rhyme,” she said as she closed her eyes and searched her memories. “Fifteen in all, five groups of three. Eternally gifted to protect the key.” Joyce blinked a few times, then looked directly at Giles. “And then some strange man asked me if I wanted cheese.”

“The last bit seems strangely similar to a slayer dream, but the rhyme is a part of a prophecy that’s not begun yet,” Penny informed them all. “As to the rest of it, I say that the message is clear. Buffy has been taken, she’s about to get pissed, and we need to get her back.”

“Agreed,” Giles replied, unconcerned that he was still holding Joyce to him. The way she curled into his embrace brought forth pleasant memories of candy and police cars.

“Locator spell?” Willow asked automatically. She had yet to tell them of her limitations. It would be a while before she would trust herself to work alone where magic was concerned. That was the one thing about magic she could control and she needed that more than anything at this point.

“Er, would you pick up the ingredients, Willow?” Giles asked nervously, unsure as yet as to her stability.

Willow waved her hand in dismissal. “Wes’ll help me, don’t panic, no solo spells for the red witch, ‘cause that way can lead to much of the badness.”

~*~*~

When the first locator spell fizzled, Willow was able to tell that the person who had taken Buffy had put up wards to prevent being located by mystical means. She assured them all that she could get through wards with Wes’s help, but that it would take time. Time that none of them wanted to waste.

Cordelia wandered around the house in a listless daze, the migraine from her last vision only just downgrading to that of a mean headache. She mused about her life. She would never have dreamed that she would continue on the fight after she left Sunnydale. Never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed that she would become a seer for the Powers-That-Be because some whiskey drinking half-demon fell in love with her and decided to pass on his ability before sacrificing himself for the greater good – stupid demon.

“Are you okay?”

Tara’s soft voice interrupted Cordelia’s inner rant. The brunette beauty smiled apologetically at the gentle Wiccan. “Aside from the mind numbing headache? Just peachy.”

“As soon as you decide to fight for you and not for Angel, the headaches will stop, Cordelia.”

Cordelia froze. As if in slow motion she turned to the concerned blond. “What are you talking about?” she whispered, shocked.

“Mrs Summers doesn’t get the headaches because she consciously chose to join her daughter’s fight. She wanted to help. She did it out of love. You were given the gift in love, but rejected it. These are not the visions of a person who has been born to the human world, these are visions that were given as a gift, if you don’t want them – return them. If you do want them, then accept them for the right reason, but don’t take to long making up your mind, because as things now stand those visions are killing you, you will die.” There was no sign of the shy Wicca. This was pure guardian.

“There’s dying now? Can I just say how unhappy I am with that little revelation and how very seriously I am going to kick Doyle’s butt when I catch him,” she fumed. “Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me about the fine print?”

Tara grinned in appreciation. She had rarely seen such fire in a person. Cordelia Chase was truly a force to be reckoned with.

~*~*~

Spike stumbled out of the cave and into the waiting arms of his friend. Weakened to the point of collapse, the vampire lifted tear-filled eyes and spoke the words he needed to say before the darkness enveloped him. “He gave me it all, Harris. He gave me it all.”

Xander carefully placed his friend over his shoulder and made his way back to the clearing where he had left the two female members of their little group. They needed to get Spike strong enough to travel before they told him about Buffy. He’d never forgive them if they took too long.

~*~*~

Buffy danced in slow motion around the room. Mirrors followed her movements and white gauze curtains billowed where wind had no place. Images changed, five mirrors circled her, positioning themselves in the points of a perfectly formed pentagram.

She faced each mirror in turn. The first had a frame made from a tree. Branches intertwined and leaves fluttered in the non-existent breeze. Images of Tara, Xander, and Fred faded in and out.

The next frame seemed to be made from the sky itself, clouds drifted from one side to the other, shadows that could be birds flittered around the edges. This one held images of her mother, watcher, and Penny.

The third frame was made from fire. She could feel its heat warming her face. Willow, Cordelia, and Drusilla danced in pagan worship around a bonfire to music that Buffy could hear faintly. As one, they turned to Buffy and smiled and the words ‘trust me’ floated around the room.

The next mirror seemed to be framed with water; she could see waves as they danced against rocks, dolphin’s leaping and playing in the gentle current. Wesley, Anya, and Gunn ebbed and flowed within the swirling mists that lived in the mirror.

The last mirror sat in a seamless frame that looked and felt like it had neither beginning nor end. Smooth and strong it screamed of protection and safety. Within the frame she saw Spike. Spike holding a baby. A third image appeared in the mirror like a shadow, and every now and again the image would become slightly clearer. Each time it did, Buffy heard the voice of the first slayer. Whispering sibilantly, ‘Trust me.’

The images faded away and Buffy found herself swimming gradually towards consciousness.

“It’s about time you woke up. Looks like you’ve gotten lazy as well as skinny.”





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