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PAST (TWO DAYS EARLIER)

“Buffy? Pass the mozeralla, por favore ?”


Andrew waited as Buffy gazed into space. The quiet kitchen area was light by the after burn of the setting sun, turning the glass dining table into shattered mirrors. The light refracted onto the blondes face played over worried eyes, but most of the bags that had formed underneath from carrying the weight of the world had gone.

“Buffy?”

No response.

“Heeey, Buffy...I accidentally ruined one of your blouses by getting Cheeto cheese on it and I think that stuff is like pure chemical goodness created by the government to control our minds and it was an accident I swear I wasn’t wearing it.” Andrew held his breath, then let it out in a slow sigh as Buffy nodded vaguely.
“Cheetos. Good.”
Finally, Andrew leaned over and snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“Earth to Buffy! Prepare for crash landing! Delta gamma beta code 01652 as stated in the Enterprise Manual page--”
“OK!” Buffy’s eyes refocused suddenly. “You don’t have to resort to the dark arts of mental torture, Andrew. Just...thinking.”
Andrew watched her sadly. She’d spent a lot of time “just thinking” in the past few months. Especially lately.
“Bout what?”
The blond slayer sighed and poked at her cold spaghetti on the plate. “I just...you know I get these feelings right? Slayer sense, or whatever? And it seems like its gotten stronger cuz now there’s like, hundreds more times the slayer power in the world. I got this bad feeling bout Angel. Over in LA.” She looked up with wide, worried eyes and put down her fork. “Andrew...when Dawn gets back...could you take care of her? Just for a few days? I think I might head over.”
“Oh right, sure. Ooh! I forgot to mention: Angel and Sp-...Angel came over a couple weeks ago looking for you. When you were out with his un-dying-ness.”

Buffy’s eyes bugged out of her head. “WHAT?! When??”
Andrew gulped guiltily. “Right before I left for the Bond convention d’italiano .”
Buffy sat, memorizing her plate of spaghetti. Suddenly she jumped up. “I’m going. And I’m bringing Willow.” Garbbing the suitcase she kept packed in the hall closet just in case of emergencies, she started for the door. “Tell Dawn I have errands, don’t break the microwave again, don’t take candy from strangers, and for God’s sake Andrew, you touch my clothes again and I claim your ring finger.” She paused, staring nervously at the door handle. “Angel doesn’t just pop by for a weather report. I smell apocalypse...Again.” And with that, she was gone, leaving Andrew gaping at the door.
“Can I use the emergency grocery stash for a few dozen DVDs, at least??”

PRESENT

“Buffy!” The redhead cried in wide-mouthed surprise. “You were right! Evil’s afoot! It must be squashed!”
“Willow...” Buffy breathed, unable to take her eyes off the dead man standing across the lobby.
“It’s the first!” Hefting her small battle axe, Willow rushed over and began beating Spike with the blunt edge of it. “Crawl back to hell, satan spawn! I know what you are! Be gone! Poof!”
“Bloody hell, woman!” Spike finally flinched, breaking the eye contact he had been holding with the woman he loved for the past minute. “Ey! I’m not the...EY! Watch the leg! Red! Back off-- OW!”
“Willow!” Buffy finally snapped. “He’s not the first. Hello? You’re beating him to a bloody pulp. Well,” Buffy studied her once lover. “Bloodier.”
“Spike?” The witch asked anxiously
.
“Spike.” Buffy whispered, approaching him. She held out her hand slowly, almost touching his ivory cheek. She pulled away, as if afraid he would be gone if she tried to reach out to him.
“You died.” She stated softly.
“Well....yeah.”
“You came back.” He came back, he came back, he came back....
“I’m stubborn like that.”
“You’re right here...” It was the vampire’s turn to reach out to a blonde lock lying across the slayer’s face.
“Willow.” Angel’s voice startled all three from their reverie. Buffy quickly stepped back. “Thank God. We need your help, your healing. Our friend is gonna die.”
Willow’s eyes went wide, then she nodded. “I brought my stuff, just in case. I’ll be right there.”

PAST

“So...we’re going to LA, to a place that’s probably evil, to visit your ex, who may or may not be in trouble because you have a ‘feeling’, and I came because...?”
Buffy held up the little plastic packet o the tray table in front of her. “Free peanuts.”
“You do know how to sweet talk.” Willow grinned, popping a handful of salty roasted goodness into her mouth. “How we gonna find him?”
“Wolfram and Hart, remember?” Buffy growled, her mouth set in a grim line.
“Right...” Willow shifted uncomfortably. “Look I’m sure...he had his reasons, Buff.” She saw Buffy’s hands clench the seat handles until her knuckles turned white. Willow sighed “Fine. But, if you guys start to hit each other, just remember not to um..” She searched for a delicate way of putting it. “Slip into the horizontal monkey tango?”
Buffy’s jaw dropped in thrilled shock. “Willow Rosenburg!”
The girl giggled devilishly as the airplane soared across the atlantic.

PRESENT

“Good to see you too, Angel.” Buffy grumbled. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike watching her covertly. She had so many questions, too many questions.
“I don’t know how you and Willow figured out we need you. I don’t have time to ask. Gunn’s upstairs.” He added as Willow hurried with her supplies towards the stairs.
“He suffered a lot of blood loss. He’s got a big wound across his torso, there might be organ damage. Also...” He trailed off swallowing hard. “His eyes. They got hurt, bad. He’s blind, Willow.” Willow stopped dead in her tracks just as she reached the door. Angel had sent Illyria to the basement to attack a shifty punching bag, so Willow wouldn’t demand an explanation for what she would think was Fred’s drastic makeover.
“I don’t think...there’s stuff I need for that. I mean, depending on how hurt his eye is...with Xander...I might not be able to fix that.” She watched Angel’s face fall. “But I can try.”
She swallowed a gasp of pain as she lay her eyes on Gunn’s bloodied and battered body. “What the hell...what happened to you guys?”
“And hey, here’s a question: how did you get back for things to happen to you?” Buffy finally asked Spike. He swallowed guiltily.
“Can we talk somewhere not near the patient?”
“I’ll get to work” said Willow.

“I’m gonna go check on Illy—Illyssa. My...cat.” Angel walked out muttering quickly. “Damn cat...always asking the wrong questions...” Buffy looked at him strangely as he left. Then she sighed and, tentatively taking a hold of Spike’s elbow, led him to a chair across the room from the bed where Willow started setting up the spell.
Buffy’s tiny fingers drilled heat through Spike’s duster straight into his blood stream, making him drunk on electricity. God, so long since he’d seen her, heard her, smelled her even...

“Voco deos saludos. Impero vobis, avudare hominis. Anima restorare. Voco deos saludos.” Willow began to chant, eyes closed lazily, hands hovering over his major wounds.

“How?” Buffy’s first question was the simplest, and the most complicated.
“Not exactly sure meself....something to do with the amulet. And lawyers. Lawyers always up tp something round here. Bloody suits...” He growled, getting distracted.
The low hum from Spike’s throat made Buffy’s heart pound just a little harder, and Spike could hear it, feel the warmth get just a little bit closer to him.

“I think I got most of the bad wounds.” Willow tried not to stare at Gunn’s mangled face. “I’m gonna work on the eyes now.” Taking a bowl of white milky liquid from the floor that she had brought, Willow placed it in the man’s hands, which were reaching a steady pulse again.

“How did the battle start? What happened? Was it because of you?”
“Hey, not taking all the blame for that one, luv.” The use of the nickname Buffy hadn’t heard in so long sent chills down her spine. Spike watched her closely. ‘God, I forgot how much I missed this...just being...just being and with her....’
“You’re hurt.” The slayer noticed, staring at the open wound on his leg.

“Oculos restorare. Deos, impero, pleo, sub cielo, oculos restorare cum aqua viva.” The pulse became stronger, and Gunn became aware that he was somehow, impossibly, mostly healed, except for the maddening pain on his face, but that was also fading, though he still could see only blackness. What was that voice?

“How long have you been here?” Buffy finally asked the question Spike had been dreading. He became intent on studying the pattern in the carpet. “Spike? When did you get brought back?”

Gunn had become almost fully concious, and increasingly alarmed, when suddenly—

“WHAT?!”

A shriek from a voice he didn’t recognize shocked Gunn out of his trance like state. With a jolt, his hands flew up to protect his suddenly wamr-feeling face, sending the bowl of white milky liquid flying. It dumped its contents on both Buffy and Spike, who stood facing each other, one ashamed, one reeling from shock. Both flinched, coming suddenly out of their trance, as the milky stuff soaked into their skin.

“No!” Willow cried, alarmed. The spell broken, Gunn felt only a dull stinging in place of his still dark sight.
Both blondes turned to the witch, confused. That’s when Buffy began to wonder vaguely who had lay the floor down crooked. Taking an uneasy step forward, she suddenly collapsed unconcious on the floor.
“Buffy!” Spike cried, terrified for her. Starting toward her, the rug seemed to suddenly pull out from under him, and he was down too.



“Buffy? Buffy, please. Please, this didn’t kill you. You’re too stubborn, I know that. C’mon. Wake up.” Willow shook her friend quietly on the floor.

Slowly, Buffy’s eyes fluttered open.

“Buffy!”

The petite blonde’s eyes opened wide in surprise, then confusion, then fear.

“What...wha...Who are you?”



Extra long chapter, this time. They keep gettin longer, you spoiled people. This chapter’s bribery: kittens! Fresh from the deli! Review, please.





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