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[A/N: Something I never understood or agreed with was the correlation between Willow’s magic problems with addiction. Truth is, Willow’s issues weren’t about being addicted, it was more about a witch realizing her powers, and basically expanding them without wanting to admit or realize that there are consequences. Another thing was that Willow lacked a moral center – she had a real problem with what she believes is “best” counterbalanced against what others do. Don’t believe me? Go back and watch some more of those episodes when Willow does what Willow wants, without worrying about whether or not she’s about to hurt someone. Trust me, its not pretty. Titles and quotes as attributed, disclaimers in full force and effect.]

Previously: Buffy finally gave Spike his crumbs, and Willow’s out and about. Dawn is wondering just how she got here and who the monks took stuff from to create her. . . .

23. A harlot’s prerogative

Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate’er it touches.
Percy Bysshe Shelley, Queen Mab, pt. 3

A power I have, but of what strength and nature
i am not yet instructed.
Measure for Measure, act 1, sc 1

Power without responsibility –
The prerogative of the harlot throughout the ages.
Rudyard Kipling

Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Great men are almost always bad men.
John Emerich Edward Dalberg, 1st Baron Acton



Grinning to herself, Willow nearly brushed her hands together in satisfaction of a job well done. She’d gone into the psychic’s shop, hoping for an interesting half hour or so. lt had been interesting, just not for me. The woman hadn’t had one smidgeon of the power that Willow herself had, and so she’d played with the woman.

One minute the woman was reading her tarot cards and the next the cards were flying about the room, dancing around her head. Willow had gotten exasperated with her, losing patience when the woman told her ‘a dark man will come into your life and sweep you off your feet’ . Her only thought had been ‘duh, um, gay now. No man is gonna come into my life and sweep me anywhere’.

Having taken that as her cue that the gypsy-wanna be was a fake, Willow had let her have it. At first she’d just shifted the cards around, but then, when the woman didn’t notice, she’d made them fly around. Getting caught up in her play, Willow set the crystals rotating and made the crystal ball spin in the air. When that didn’t phase the other, she’d gotten slightly peeved and set all the bells and gongs clanging. That’s when the woman got frightened. Stupid woman.

So Willow had finished teaching the woman a lesson.

She’d played with her, pulling on her hair and lifting her skirts, poking and tickling her. The cards, bells, gongs and crystals had all been whirling about the air, adding to the confusion. Willow had only relented when the woman began crying, pleading with her to stop. Growing bored and a little disappointed that it hadn’t been much fun in the first place, Willow clapped her hands together and stopped everything in place.

The cards and crystals dropped to the floor, ripped and shattered.

Turning her back on the woman’s disheveled form and destroyed shop, Willow resumed her earlier plans and headed off toward UC Sunnydale’s campus.

******************************* ***************************************

Rupert had been listening to his recording of Willow’s version of the events surrounding Buffy’s resurrection for the last two days. He was afraid he kept missing something integral, something that would strike him and give him the answers he was seeking.

Every night since Buffy’s return, Spike had encountered the aftermath of whatever-it-was’ nightly feasting. Thankfully, the numbers had gone down, leading both men to believe that the fear and change in location were what lead to the initial bloodbath. Other than that, they had absolutely nothing to go on. Spike hadn’t even been able to get a glimpse of whatever-it-was, merely what it ate. Giles had a theory that whatever-it-was had followed Buffy from whatever dimension Willow had released her from. But without knowing what dimension Buffy had been in, he had no way to identify whatever-it-was. Giles sighed, thinking, we really have to come up with a better name for this than whatever-it-was.

Too many variables. Too many unknowns. And, without grilling both of the girls, he wasn’t going to get many answers at all.

He was going to have to talk to Buffy about it. He’d like to avoid talking to Willow for the time being, until he had more to go on, this way his questioning would be a bit more specific. Either that or get Spike and the Buffybot and everyone else out on patrol tonight, hoping for a glimpse of whatever it was.

Pocketing the recorder, Giles said goodbye to Anya and headed for the door.

******************************* ***************************************

Neither one of them breathed, frozen in stillness, locked together in an embrace. Spike was almost afraid to move, afraid to break the spell they were under. Buffy didn’t want to move because she didn’t want to give up the safety and comfort. Their heads were tucked against the other’s neck, and both of them were just breathing in the scent of each other.

For once in his life, Spike was stunned speechless. He had no words to say to explain, to contain the emotions he was feeling at this moment. ‘Crumbs’. He laughed because it was the only sound he could make at that moment. He laughed because this was so bloody perfect. Spike said it out loud, just because he wanted to hear it from her once more. “Crumbs?”

She giggled, catching onto his laughter. “Yeah crumbs.”

Their laughter stopped, though, when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly. It stilled so abruptly that his ears rang with it.

Shifting them so that they lay face to face on her bed, Spike traced her features with a gentle hand. “Christ woman, you are beautiful.”

Buffy’s blush crept across her features, but her words stopped his movements. “No I’m not, not really.”

Spike huffed his disbelief. “Eye of the beholder, pet. If I say you are, you are.”

She wasn’t going to argue with him. Not at this moment anyway. This was too nice to give up. Her eyes drifted closed, as she felt his fingers resume their trek across her face.

His voice reached through her, warming her from the inside out, “missed you pet. So much. Wasn’t right without you, Niblet cried all the time. Rupert was at loose ends.”

Curling into his embrace, Buffy settled against his chest, letting his deep voice rumble against her ear. “Patrolled for you every night, did what I could to make up for it . . . “ his voice trailed off, unwilling to finish that train of thought.

He was quiet for too long. Buffy traced idle patterns on his arms, matching the ones he was tracing on her back. Her voice, when she spoke sounded content and languid. “Make up for what?”

Spike hesitated, unsure whether he wanted to bring this up, possibly spoiling the moment. “Make up for not saving you or Little Bit that night. Make up for failing you.”

“No . . . no Spike you didn’t. You did the best you could. You didn’t fail me.” Buffy hugged him close, tightening her grip almost painfully. She felt rather than saw his head shake in disagreement.

“I did. Didn’t move fast enough, or somethin’. Doc got the drop on me – underestimated the bleeding bastard – couldn’t save Dawn from gettin’ hurt, nor stop you from jumping. Kept going over it and over it in m’head, after. Always worked then. Every time – managed to save you both.”

There was nothing she could say. What he just admitted was hard enough. Seemed like today was the day for giving up secrets between them. Not that they’d ever really had any, they had an eerie way of being able to read each other, naturally able to intuit what the other was feeling. Instead of answering, Buffy just shifted a bit, so their faces were even and kissed him softly.

He hadn’t expected that, but didn’t object. Their mouths met, lips parted naturally and tongues entwined about each other. The kiss deepened, their bodies shifting, closing the already small gap between them. Spike moved, half tucking her beneath him, wedging his hips between hers, letting her feel the hard length of him rubbing against her. Buffy clutched at him, her fingers wrapped around the nape of his neck. Almost of their own accord, his hips undulated against her and she unconsciously wrapped one of her legs around the outside of his, opening herself up so he could get closer. His hand snaked up under her night shirt, cupping her breast. Soft mewls and heavy breathing filled the room, both of them gasping for air.

His thumb flicked over her nipple and she arched up against him.

Neither one of them heard the doorbell, but they both heard the door slam, then the sound of their names being called by Rupert.

“Piss poor timing your watcher has pet.” He nipped in for another kiss before pulling away. “I’ll go see what he wants. Come down when you’re ready.”

She looked . . . . like an angel on the road to debauchery, so tempting as she lay there flustered from his kisses, that before he left the room, Spike had to kiss her once more. Letting his lips settle on hers, then drift down to lay another kiss between her breasts, Spike grinned at her expression, adjusted himself and was gone, all before Buffy could even react.

******************************* ***************************************

She got to campus, but nearly everything was closed. Only a few of the buildings were open, mostly the offices, and that was okay, because she was looking for the registrar’s office anyway. While she was there waiting for the woman behind the counter to get the course catalog she wanted, Willow looked at the flyers announcing all the groups meeting on campus. Three in particular caught her eye. The first was for the upcoming meeting of the witches group where she and Tara had met. The second was for ROTC training, which immediately brought to mind The Initiative. She wondered if any of them were still left, and if so, whether or not they would be a visible presence or if they had gone completely covert. Willow didn’t think the government would leave the hellmouth completely unwatched, even if the Slayer was in residence.

The last one took her breath away. It was a flyer for a fraternity party, the first weekend of classes, which wasn’t anything unusual. What was unusual was the band playing. Dingoes Ate my Baby were scheduled to appear for the first time in 2 years. And the flyer said ‘original line-up’. Which meant Oz. Oz was back.

Completely flustered, Willow whirled out of the office, not waiting for the woman who had been helping her. Oh great goddess. Oz was back. Where the heck had he been? The last time she’d seen him, they’d agreed that he couldn’t be around her, that she made him feel too much. She didn’t even think he was playing anymore. Oh darn oh darn. Wait . . . she had Tara. Taking a deep breath, Willow settled herself, then walked quickly toward the main quad, where the outdoor café was. She needed caffeine to calm herself.

Oz was back in Sunnydale, but that didn’t mean she had to see him, had to go out of her way to find him. Maybe they wouldn’t even see each other. If she didn’t go to the party and didn’t go looking for him, she’d be okay. Willow sat at a table, her mind whizzing from one subject to another, unaware that in her agitation, she’d set all the machines whirring and buzzing, starting the soda dispensers spewing sticky liquid all over the place.

It wasn’t until she heard a voice calling her name, that she snapped out of her confused musings. “Hey Willow? It is you, right?”

A dark haired girl perched on the seat in front of her, looking at her intently, like she expected Willow to remember her. “Oh hey, how are you?”

Willow covered up her confusion by playing along. “I haven’t seen you since you and that Tara girl hooked up after our meetings. I wasn’t even sure you were still here at Sunnydale.”

“Um, yeah, I grew up here. So, how you been?” Willow tried, but couldn’t remember her name at all, it was just a complete blank.

Shifting her attention from the girl in front of her, Willow noticed the mess that was still being cleaned up the counter and in a moment of pity for the kids working there, concentrated, took a deep breath, opened her eyes as they flashed black for an instant, then flicked her fingers in the general direction of the kiosk. The chaos stopped and everything was clean. And in typical Sunnydale fashion, the workers shrugged, then went about what they were doing before the chaos ensued. It all happened inside a couple of minutes, but when Willow looked back at the girl, she was still talking, unaware of what Willow had just done. Thinking to herself, Willow stared hard at the girl, her eyes flickering dark, then clearing again.

“So, Jess that sounds interesting. Are you going to be running the wiccan group again?” Willow had just probed into the other girl’s mind, getting her name and all sorts of other information. Jessica, the other girl, shifted, feeling something different but unable to pinpoint what it was. A bit flustered, the girl talked to Willow for a little bit longer, then made her excuses to leave. Willow breathed deeply, realizing she was able to walk through the other girl’s mind without any expenditure of real effort.

Smiling to herself, Willow got up from the table, intent on finding out what else she could do with this sudden surge of power.

******************************* ****************************************

Rupert had been waiting in the kitchen, looking about for something to drink, when Spike finally made his way downstairs. Spike had stopped momentarily in the hallway, in an almost futile effort to will his erection away. Wouldn’t do for her watcher, well, the man she considered a father to notice something. Not that he expected Rupert to be eyeing his crotch, but you never knew what that man paid attention too. He didn’t want anything to cause a problem with what was happening between him and Buffy.

“Watcher” he called from the kitchen doorway. “What brings you here?”

“Spike. We need more information on this whatever-it-was that you’ve been cleaning up after for the last few nights. I was thinking perhaps I’d ask Buffy a few more questions, to narrow down my research.” Giles settled on grabbing a soda from the refrigerator, gesturing with his free hand to the other man.

Thinking quickly, Spike wasn’t sure if Buffy was going to be any help in the research, especially if she stuck to her guns and kept quiet about where she’d been. “Dunno what else I can tell you. Never seen the bastard only smelled it.” He wrinkled his forehead, adding “smells rank though, nasty.”

“Yes, I believe you have mentioned that once or twice.” In fact, the vampire had complained long and loudly the other night after finding the second kill, about the stench the whatever-it-was emitted.

Before he could respond, Buffy appeared, looking flushed and smiling a little. Shooting Spike a heated glance, she asked “hey Giles, what’s the what?”

Heading right for the refrigerator, Buffy listened while Giles outlined his ideas for the whatever-it-was and shrugged while she searched for a yogurt. “I don’t remember being around anything like that. It wasn’t like that. It was. . . “ she hesitated, trying to think of something to tell him that wouldn’t set off his internal alarms, “it was different. I don’t remember much.”

Spike raised an eyebrow at her, knowing full well she was lying to the older man, but Buffy just stared back. She wasn’t going to tell anyone. While it warmed him to know that she trusted him with the information of where she was, it bothered him more than a little that she wasn’t even going to tell Rupert.

Leaning against the island, standing next to Spike, Buffy avoided Giles’ eye. Didn’t help
that Spike had pushed his leg against hers, unable to resist touching her now that she was within touching distance.

Giles blinked once, then continued, “I had thought as much. Its understandable that you haven’t remembered everything yet. It has just been a week since you’ve returned. I shall have to ask Willow.” Grimacing unintentionally at the thought, he went on to say, “have you given any thought about resuming patrol?”

Sharing a look with Spike, Buffy shook her head in denial. “Not really sure I’m ready. Still feeling out of sorts.”

“You do know you are going to have to, sooner or later. Can’t leave it all up to Spike or the Buffybot. You might want to think about training again.” He was afraid she’d lost her nerve, gotten skittish in her time away, and Giles knew that while having Spike around was a godsend (and the irony of that never ceased to amaze him) but it was Buffy’s responsibility, not Spike’s to patrol the hellmouth.

“Might help, pet, if you did start. Give you something to focus on.” Spike was all for it, getting her out of the house and doing anything that gave her the motivation to do something other than dwell on her situation. “Need to do it myself.”

He knew if he pushed hard enough, Buffy would balk, so Giles let it go, leaving the options open for her to resume training when she was ready. This current mood was so unlike her that it was beginning to concern him. Buffy wasn’t the sort to sit still and brood, preferring action over introspection. Maybe Spike could get her motivated.

“I think perhaps its time for a full out patrol.” Giles let the suggestion sit in the air, knowing the ultimate decision was ironically, up to the vampire.

“Yeah, what the hell. Get the whelp out of his easy chair and out chasing nasties.”

Grinning at each other in expectation of some violence, Giles and Spike agreed, setting the time to meet at seven that night.





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