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Author's Chapter Notes:
CHAPTER 29: Different Stars

CHAPTER RATING: T

CHAPTER PAIRING: Spike & Tara, Giles & Drusilla

TIMELINE/SPOILERS: AU after AtS "Not Fade Away"

DISCLAIMERS: All BtVS characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. I'm just fixing their mistakes!

CHAPTER CREDITS: Drusilla's verses are from "Oh Coal Black Smith" by Current 93.

CHAPTER NOTES: We're getting towards the end now! I have the rest of the story mapped out, and it will take about 6-7 more chapters. I also have a few one-shots planned that take place during this particular story, so those should be out relatively soon as well. Thank you for your continued following of this story! I'm so excited that you've kept with me for so long!
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Oh, she got that message. There was no mistaking it this time; Rupert Giles was trying to contact her. And "Willow". Yes, that name was familiar.

The witch. That was who Giles had asked her and the rest of the coven to help stop those few years ago. Madame Polina remembered how risky the proposition was. She had tried to talk him out of it, even. But he was steadfast, that one. And certain. So sure that what he had proposed would work. When she finally heard back that the apocalypse was diverted, she had wept in relief. Occasionally, she would think about that young witch, hoping that the Great Goddess had been guiding her. It was so easy to fall.

With the bathwater cooling, Madame Polina pulled her achy body out of the tub and dried herself off. The sound of the water swirling down the drain reminded her of the spell the coven did. Their powers all whirled together to confront the maelstrom that was a vengeful little witch. Polina had seen a lot in her 367 years, but rarely had she experienced such grief. For such a young thing to have been consumed that way... It broke her heart all over again.

Madame Polina sighed softly as she scuffled over to her desk. She was nervous now. With everything that had been happening on the Hellmouth lately, she took this latest contact as proof that all was not right. Either something was coming, or something was already here, and the name "Willow" was seared across it in deep, glowing letters.

The address book was flipped through and Giles' phone number shakily dialed. She held her breath as the phone rang...and rang. No one picked up, not even an answering machine. Perhaps he's in trouble?

That thought set Madame Polina about working on another way to contact him. She rummaged through her pantry and began mixing herbs as quickly as her thin fingers could go.

.

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"I think I've got it."

Tara looked up from the notebook she'd been writing in. She still didn't know what it was about Spike that granted her corporealness, but while he'd allow her near, she took advantage of it. The past hour she had been scribbling down notes for a spell that she'd been contemplating. Spike was lounging next to her on the sofa, enjoying a Bloody Mary—made with real blood, pilfered from a blood bank (maybe even from some bint named Mary, he mused). Tara had frowned at that, but he just had to prove he was still the Big Bad. He was incorrigible.

"We'll get the fortune teller to help her," Spike continued.

The kind witch peered at him gently, her eyebrows crinkling in consideration. "But...would she? I mean, she barely knows us. Why would she..."

"I can be very convincing," Spike interrupted. His eyes flashed yellow for a moment, causing Tara to startle slightly...until she noticed how obscenely he was lapping at the end of the celery stalk he just pulled from his drink.

"Guys are so gross," Tara teased, rolling her eyes at him. It was nice to see Spike less broody (no, irritated; Angel was broody), but she sometimes forgot how much his twisted sexuality tended to control...err, influence...him. It had been so many years now since those days of him trying to seduce Buffy, and so much had happened to harden all of them—Scoobies included.

"Well, the way I see it, that old bat owes us." Spike stuck his fangs into the celery and sucked at the pooling liquid until the stalk's color faded.

Tara raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah, see... who was the one skewered that beastie for her, eh?" He gave her a proud smile.

"Didn't you say she paid in cash for that?"

Spike frowned for a quick second as he tried to recover. "She was grossly undercharged."

The good witch did her best to stifle a smirk.

"All right, what about the other day? Got her all un-voodoo-ed, didn't I?"

"For our benefit, yes."

Spike groaned. "You damn white hats." He moved his glass to the end table, dropping the wilted celery into it with a slick plop.

Tara couldn't keep that laugh inside. She squeezed his hand, that crooked smile settling on her soft face.

The vampire squeezed back and pulled her closer. He breathed in the sandalwood scent of her hair—still amazed that he could breathe in any scent from her—and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. If she had a heartbeat, he might have heard it speed up then.

"Why won't she tell me?" Tara whispered, breaking from the lightness of their banter as she slowly fell back into thought. "Doesn't she know I'd do anything to help her?"

"I'm sure she just doesn't want to worry you, luv. Been guilty of that myself at times."

.

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From the guest room, Willow tried hard to meditate on roots. But the fact that she had to try meant it wasn't working.

She could hear Spike and Tara in a conversation but couldn't make out their words through the walls. Tara's emotions seemed to be hidden from her when the good witch was near him, but Willow could definitely feel the concern rolling off of Spike. She had assumed it was all about Buffy, but now she wasn't so sure. The Hellmouth not only made her nervous, but it also made her paranoid, suspect. Maybe this root system stuff was pulling the power of the Hellmouth into her, too—connecting her to its demonic energies just like being in England with the coven had connected her to the earth's energies.

Oh, it was all too much! And how do you explain that to a vampire in love or a spectral witch no longer grounded in this world?

She had to leave. Somewhere out there had to be safe. If she started looking now, maybe she'd find it.

.

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Drusilla had been fidgety all day so far.

Giles tried his best to work on some spells for locating Willow and getting through to the coven, but it was harder and harder to concentrate when Dru was humming and touching everything he owned. She gravitated towards the rarest (and, thus, most expensive) items in his collection, and that forced him to keep one eye on her even though he really needed both eyes on his work. He tried asking her if she was getting visions, but she wouldn't answer. Instead, she just sang her gnarled little rhymes.

Right now, she was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with a pair of brass statuettes. She danced them around like they were dolls. Her voice twittered as she sang softly to herself: "And she became a corpse, a corpse all in the ground. And he became the cold grey clay and smothered her all around..." She stopped for a brief moment to stare up at the ceiling. Then the pitiful vampire began her song again.

He took a deep breath and swallowed his irritation. The poor girl really couldn't help it, could she? Damn Angelus. Giles needed to remind himself of the one at fault here. And like Ophelia, he knew her words meant more than just babble. So, he listened to her more closely, letting her go through the song once, twice, until she began a third time:

"You shall never change my maiden name, that I have kept so long. I'd rather die a maid, yes...and be buried in my grave, yes..."

"Drusilla?"

She looked up at him then, noticing the tone in his voice.

Even though he was still at his desk, Giles had turned slightly. His arms were open to her.

.

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It took the kind of magic she hadn't used since Tara died to get her out of there, but she did it. Willow felt her way around in the dark, hoping she landed somewhere safer than she was. She had shielded her mind from outside magic as best as she could. Her initial thought was to try to find Giles, but then she tugged that one back; she was still angry at him for keeping the knowledge of Spike's existence from Buffy. No, maybe she'd go looking for Buffy instead. Buffy had trusted her so much with that final spell in Sunnydale, even when she knew how far Willow had fallen just a year earlier. Perhaps that power of belief, coupled with the strength of the Slayer, would help her reign herself in again.

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