Willow returned to London the next day. She arrived while Buffy was at the Council, and was immediately spirited away into Giles’ study. The door was firmly closed, and Dawn was not invited. The longer the discussion went on in there, the more unsettled Dawn felt. She paced the kitchen impatiently, seething quietly, while Andrew watched nervously.
“I could make you some tea,” he offered.
“No tea.” Dawn looked at the clock and frowned. “I should be in there! She’s my sister!”
“Coffee? I could use the glass thing.” He peered suspiciously at the cafetière “I think.”
“No.” Dawn looked up at the clock. “They’ve been in there ages.”
“Umm… hot chocolate?”
“No.”
“We have tiny marshmallows.”
“Andrew!”
“I’m sorry! I’m just trying to help!” Andrew looked hurt.
“Oh, this is so stupid!” Dawn growled and stormed out of the kitchen. Andrew heard Giles’ study door open and the sound of Dawn’s angry voice. The study door slammed closed, and there was silence again. Andrew sighed and looked at the clock. He didn’t give them long.
Less than two minutes later the study door slammed back on its hinges. Dawn rushed past him, through the kitchen and down the stairs to the cellar. Andrew looked at the door nervously, then followed her.
She was sitting on Spike’s bed, staring at the floor, white-faced and shaken. She looked up as Andrew came to sit next to her.
“It… umm… it didn’t go so well, then,” he offered.
She shook her head. “Willow won’t try. She won’t do it without Buffy’s say-so, and Buffy can’t say because she doesn’t know, and no-one will tell her because… because they're afraid that it'll be bad for her, and they don’t even know if Willow can do something and…” She gave a despairing sigh. “But you know what it is really? They don’t want her to remember! They don’t!” Dawn felt the prick of tears of frustration. “They want Spike out of her life for good.”
“It’s not that.” Willow’s voice came from the stairs. She came down slowly and stood in front of Dawn and Andrew. “Dawnie, it’s not that. I mean,” she hesitated “yeah, OK, that’s how Giles feels but you know Giles where Buffy’s concerned, all watchery and not big with the Vampire Slayer dating vampires thing… or the dating… anybody thing, really…” She frowned then shook her head. “It’s just… it’s not so easy.”
“I don’t see the problem,” Dawn said stubbornly.
Willow sighed and sat next to her. “I’m still not convinced I could do it, and even if I could…” She paused. “Thing is, mending Buffy’s memories means I have to sort of get inside her mind. I’ve been working with the coven to try and find a way around it, but there doesn’t seem to be one. And then, when I’m in there, all her memories, all her innermost thoughts and feelings - I get to see them. Open book. Everything.” She bit her lip. “Doing that… you know, just going in there… it’s worse than… than reading somebody’s secret diary without permission. Much worse. It feels like a sort of… of rape, almost. I can’t do that. Not again,” she added quietly.
“But, Willow, if you were Buffy, wouldn’t you want to know?” Dawn looked at her pleadingly.
“Yes… no…” Willow wrung her hands. “Maybe. But… what if we tell her? Even assuming what the Immortal said about the risks wasn't true - which we honestly don't know - you don’t think it might be a bit confusing? She’s all big with the slayer thing and… and Spike’s the evil undead, so we go tell her that actually… he kinda saved the world and she was in love with him until her immortal ex-boyfriend wiped her memory. And… and we’ll have to tell her she might never get the memories back and… oh, by the way, if… if we do try the spell, then I’ll get to see all the private stuff in your head and besides there’s no guarantee that it’s safe and if it isn’t and something goes wrong… whoa… major madness badness.” She shrugged unhappily. “Kinda not sure, here.”
The three of them sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts.
“You should have seen them in Rome, Will.” Dawn said softly.
Andrew nodded. “They were like Anthony and Cleopatra. Romeo and Juliet. Bogart and Bacall. Burton and...” Andrew’s voice tailed away as Dawn raised her eyebrows at him. “It was so romantic.” He gazed off into the distance. “Star-crossed lovers…”
“Oh, here we go…” Dawn mumbled.
“…torn from each other’s arms at the gates of death, finally reunited, rekindling their deep and torrid passions in the heat of a Roman night.” He sighed.
Dawn gave him a long look. “Are you done?”
Andrew gave an abashed smile. “It was neat.”
“Look. How about this,” Willow said thoughtfully. “I’ll go in when Buffy’s asleep – not too deep, just a look-see. Maybe I can get a better feel for how this was done, maybe even how best to undo it. And if… if it’s all easy-peasy and there’s gonna be no risk, then we’ve got something to take to Giles.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“Well, at least we’ll know what we’re up against,” Willow said unhappily.
******
“I made you some tea.” Willow carried two steaming cups into the bedroom. “And I stole a couple of Giles’ favourite cookies. He thought he’d hidden them, but no cookie is safe from witchy-type chocolate craving.”
“Oh, cookie goodness!” Buffy was sitting up in bed, blankets tucked around her legs. “Although strictly speaking these are biscuits. See? I’m learning Englishese!” She took a cup and sniffed it suspiciously. “What sort of tea is this?”
“Oh, you know,” Willow smiled innocently. “Camomile, that sort of thing. Helps with the good sleeping and the happy dreams.” And a few other herbs just to help keep her asleep and open her mind for later. Willow suppressed a twinge of guilt as she slipped under the covers of the other bed. “So – how’s it been going over at the Council?”
“Not nearly as dull as it sounds – but don’t tell Giles I said that. I don’t want to spend every day there. You know, I’ve been here days now and still I haven’t gotten to shop? Oh! Did you hear I went on a date?” Buffy sipped at her tea and grimaced. “Yewww! Are you sure this is good for me?” She took a bite of her biscuit.
“The best! Drink up! Witch’s orders.” Willow sipped at her own concoction. “A date? So – tell.”
“You remember Fairfax? He asked me out. He was kind of…” She paused in thought, then grinned. “British! Very polite and restrained. Not that I know many British men; I mean there’s Giles, but he’s… you know… old.”
“And Spike,” Willow said casually, watching Buffy carefully over the rim of her cup.
“Spike.” Buffy gave a tight smile. “You heard, huh?”
“About the thesis? I heard.”
Buffy shook her head. “What was I supposed to think, Will? I mean, turns out everybody knew about his past, and no-one seemed to think it was worth telling me about it.” Buffy finished her tea and put the cup down on the table.
“You knew he was a vampire, Buffy. Hardly a surprise about the less than vegetarian past, eating people kinda being part of the job description and all.” Willow shrugged.
“I know, I know,” Buffy sighed. “But he killed slayers. Not big with the comfort factor here. He’d got close… I’d let him get close.” She closed her eyes. “Too close.”
“Sounds like the two of you were pretty… friendly. And it seems like he’d changed. I mean, from what Dawn tells me.”
“Dawn is biased,” Buffy snorted. “I think she’s fallen for the whole bad boy charm.”
“And you didn’t, naturally. No falling for the baby blues and the cheekbones and the sexy smile and the cool leather coat...”
“Me? He’s so not my type. But I’m beginning to think he might be yours.”
“He is kind of cute.”
“Cute? No way!”
“I could go for him. If it wasn’t for the whole gay thing, naturally.” Willow shrugged.
“What about the whole big, bad, vampire thing?” Buffy raised an eyebrow at her. There was a brief silence. Willow finished her tea and put down her cup, as Buffy settled back in her bed, stretching luxuriously. “Hot,” Buffy yawned.
“Hot?” Willow gave her a puzzled look. “Who’s hot?”
“Oh!” Buffy blushed. “Did I say that aloud? Umm… me! I’m… hot. Must be the tea.” She fanned her reddened cheeks with her hand. “Phew! Hot tea!”
Willow grinned. “You were talking hot as in Spike!”
“No I wasn’t!” Buffy gave an abashed smile. “OK. Maybe I was. It’s just… I mean, looking at it purely objectively, of course… he’s not cute so much… not really… more kinda… hot.” She rolled her eyes. “What did you put in that tea?”
“Hey, nothing wrong with admiring a pretty face and a tight butt, even on the terminally vampiric,” Willow said reasonably.
“Willow Rosenberg!” Buffy gave a snort of surprise.
“What? It’s OK to look! Not like I’d ever say anything to anyone’s face. I mean, I couldn’t anyways, if I was watching their butt…”
Buffy shook her head and lay back, resting her head on her pillow. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if that was all it was. But there was something else. He… he’s arrogant and annoying and rude and opinionated and… and he never knows when to shut up.”
“But still…?” Willow prompted.
“I felt…” she gazed off into space, then gave a self-deprecating shrug. “It was kind of nice having him around,” she conceded sleepily. “But the risks. It’s probably best he’s gone. It was getting too complicated.”
“Complicated is never to the good. Complicated leads to too much thinking and much uncertainty and the arguing in circles and the unscheduled visits to Rio de Janeiro and… and carnival-based recriminations.” She caught Buffy’s confused look. “Oops. Sorry.” She shook her head and refocused. “So complicated has gone and now you’re all big with the uncomplicated?”
“Turns out not so much.” Buffy’s voice was heavy with sleep. “I miss him.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “How strange is that?”
“Not so strange…” Willow listened as Buffy’s breathing deepened and she settled into sleep. “Buffy…?” she said quietly. There was no reply. She turned to sit of the edge of the bed facing Buffy and reached into the pocket of her robe. She took out two well worn crystals, smoothing her fingers over the cool, shiny surface of the haematite thoughtfully as she watched Buffy sleep. No time like the present… She placed the grey metallic stone on her lap and rested her hands on top of it, cradling the amethyst. The haematite was her grounding stone, to keep her focussed and bring her home, the amethyst would help channel her psychic energy. She looked over at Buffy. “OK, here goes.” She closed her eyes and concentrated, reaching her consciousness through the focusing lattice of the crystal and slowly toward that of her friend, following the lines of their connection carefully. The herbs helped – Buffy slept soundly and Willow eased herself gently into Buffy’s mind, soothing as she went, taking Buffy deeper into sleep. She paused, drew on the power focussed in the crystal and opened herself to Buffy. The tendrils of her consciousness spread slowly, carefully feeling their way, staying at the superficial levels of Buffy’s mind, gently probing for something, for a feeling of wrongness… and there it was. Willow drew back suddenly, snapped her mind away, pulling hard on her connection to the grounding stone. Her eyes flew open with a gasp. She looked over at Buffy quickly. Her breathing was deep and regular – she was OK.
Willow turned out the lights and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d put a ward on it. The bastard had booby-trapped the spell! She was pretty sure she’d got away with it, that she’d been careful enough to avoid him feeling her presence. But if she’d just barged in there… Willow shivered and closed her eyes. So, it wasn’t going to be straightforward after all. Whoever did this was a powerful warlock – very powerful. In the darkness, Willow smiled. But she’d tasted that power. She’d had a glimpse of him, for all he hadn’t seen her. And now she could begin to know him, while he - he had no idea what he was up against.
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