Xander pulled Oz's van up to the curb near Giles' apartment building and hit the brakes. The tires shrilled in protest as they came into conflict with the curb and the vehicle rocked. Leaving the motor running, he threw the door open and jumped out, circling the van at a run.
He walked around into direct sight of the Watcher's apartment and noted with relief that the apartment lights were on. And then the lights went out. Giles moved into view from the steps leading down to his unit. He was carrying his weapons bag. Xander faltered to a stop at the look of cold determination on the man's face.
"Willow?" Xander murmured to himself. He hurried forward. Giles finally saw him and stopped mid-sidewalk, waiting.
"What?" Xander demanded as soon as he was close enough to speak to Giles without shouting.
"It's Willow," Giles said. "Drusilla has her."
Xander closed his eyes. "Oh god. I left her for a minute. I should have stayed with her --"
"Yes." Giles moved past him towards the van. He opened the passenger side door and placed the bag inside. "Are you going to drive me, or do I have to drive myself?"
Xander broke out of his frozen horror and hurried back around to the driver's seat. "Where?" he said as he slammed the door shut behind him.
"The mansion on Crawford street." Giles reached down to unzip the bag at his feet.
The teen pulled out onto the street with another tire- eroding squeal. He drove in silence for several minutes, trying to track what Giles was doing out of the corner of his eye. "You got a call?" he finally ventured. "Is Willow --?"
"Drusilla called. Willow is -- still alive at the moment. As far as I could tell."
"As far --" Xander swallowed.
"How long has it been since Willow was last with you?" Giles might have been quizzing him on some history exam.
"Not long. Maybe thirty minutes." He glanced down at the dashboard clock and swallowed again. "I thought maybe she'd headed over to your place again. She was trying to call you. Oh shit. Did Drusilla say anything about Cordelia?"
Giles stilled a moment in his preparations. "Cordelia's missing?"
Xander nodded. "She was late to the Bronze. Willow and I went to the school to look for her. Willow found her purse. Drusilla didn't say anything about her?"
"No." Giles resumed whatever he was doing.
Xander turned onto Crawford street and slowed down. "Maybe we shouldn't park right in front of the house. You are going to do something other than just walk right into whatever she's got waiting for you?"
"Yes," Giles said. "You can park here, if you like."
Xander pulled the van up to the curbside, more carefully this time, and turned off the ignition and then the headlights. "Okay, now what?" He turned to face the other man.
"Here," Giles handed him the crossbow. "As best I could tell, she and Willow are alone right now. Drusilla did say that Spike was invited to the 'party' she had planned."
"Party," Xander echoed.
"If he does show, I need you to keep him busy," Giles opened the door on his side. "Don't endanger yourself more than absolutely necessary. Keep a sane distance. Under no circumstances come in after us."
"Wait!" Xander grabbed at his jacket sleeve. "What are you going to use as a defense?"
Giles smiled -- a Ripper sort of smile. "I have this." He held up Drusilla's doll.
Drusilla wrapped a long red silk scarf around Acathla's neck and tied it into a neat bow. "There," she said and stepped back to examine her handiwork. "What do you think, dear? Did you like the black one better?"
"Um. . ." Willow blinked blearily at the petrified demon from her pile of cushions on the floor. "I don't know. Maybe purple?" Her head ached and she felt like that time when she was seven at the Fourth of July picnic when she and Xander had a hot dog eating competition. At least her vision had cleared. Though given what she had to look at right now, she thought maybe she'd would've rather had her nausea go away instead.
"Purple?" Drusilla cocked her head to regard the demon.
"Or polka dots." Willow tried. "Purple with red polka dots." She'd been attempting to wrest her hands loose from the rope that Drusilla had looped around them, but it was hard to put much effort into it with her captor standing so close by. If she could get the vampiress to leave for just a few minutes --
"Maybe red and black together?" Drusilla pulled a black scarf from her shoulders and reached up to fasten it.
Vampires seemed to be incapable of dressing in any colors but red or black. Willow wondered dismally, if Drusilla were to turn her into a vampire if she could somehow avert destiny and wear purple. She scooched up, while Drusilla's back was turned, and tried to push her hands under her. If she could get them up front, maybe she could loosen the knot with her teeth.
"There," Drusilla said in satisfaction. "He's quite the gentleman, isn't he?" She turned back towards Willow. "But what are you wearing?"
Willow sat hastily back down. "Me?" she squeaked.
"You want to look nice for you lover, don't you?" Drusilla glided up and knelt in front of her. Willow cringed back as Drusilla reached out to run her fingers through her hair. The vampiress kept doing that; it made the girl want to scream.
"Black, I think," Drusilla mused. "We'd better hurry. He'll be here soon."
"What do you want from him?" Willow said fearfully.
"I want a dance," Drusilla said with a smile, and leaned towards Willow's ear to whisper. "It makes Spike jealous, you know." She sat back on her heels. "You talk to the moon. You know magic," she said solemnly. "May I ask you a question?"
Willow nodded, then found her voice. "Ye-s. But maybe I don't know the answer?"
Drusilla's brow furrowed as some tormenting thought bounced around inside her head. "What is a FAT32 partition?" she finally ventured, "and why should I want to do it to my hard drive?"
Willow stared.
Drusilla ran her fingers through Willow's hair again, then yanked. Willow bit off a yelp. "You know," Dru pouted. "You took over my-her computer class. Just like you stole my-her man." She stood and wandered back to Acathla. "And this bad boy stole my daddy." She stroked the demon's frozen face. "All my men are gone away."
"What happened to Spike?" Willow whispered.
"Oh Spike." Drusilla returned to sit cross-legged by Willow. "Can I tell you a secret?" She leaned her head on Willow's shoulder.
Willow tried not to flinch away at the soft touch of Dru's hair against her face. "If you tell me -- would you have to kill me?"
Drusilla laughed. "Spike wants me all to himself."
"Oh well," Willow said. "How selfish of him."
"No," Drusilla declared, "but where is he now, hmmm?" She spread her skirt around her and smoothed it out. "How has he been? Does he miss me?"
"Spike?" Willow tried to edge away, but Drusilla looped an arm around her waist.
"Rupert," Drusilla said patiently. "Why are you trying to confuse the issue?" Her fingers curled slightly, the sharp nails drawing blood from Willow's arm. "But then you've always wanted him."
"No!" Willow said, afraid that the vampiress would notice the blood trickling down her arm.
Drusilla drew back and slapped her hard. Willow tumbled to the floor, her head ringing. "You shouldn't lie," Dru said, not sounding in the least bit aggrieved. "It isn't lady-like." She lay down on her stomach next to Willow. "I must tell you: You shouldn't get him talking to the moon. He might find his future there. And the future maddens."
"What do you mean?" Her nose felt wet; Willow was afraid that it was bleeding but she couldn't reach up to wipe it away. She averted her face from Drusilla's searching eyes.
"Nothing of any use to you," Drusilla mused. She sat up and threaded her fingers again through the girl's red hair, pulling Willow's head back to look intently into her face -- then she looked up. "Oh, he's come. And we haven't gotten you dressed yet." She pulled another black scarf from her shoulders, shoved it into the girl's mouth and knotted it at the back of her head. "That's a start." She landed a delicate kiss atop Willow's head and stood. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
"Listen," Xander was whispering to Giles as he followed the Watcher out the van's passenger door. "Nobody respects your Watcherly skills more than I do. Okay probably Willow does, but only because she worships the dust you walk on. And maybe Buffy does -- well I would have put her first except that she ran out on you. What kind of respect is that? Uh, scratch that. What I mean to say is that, uh, I'm kind of confused about your choice in weaponry here? I mean, wouldn't a stake --" he pulled a sharpened stake from his jacket pocket "-- be more to the -- uh -- point?"
"Drusilla killed Kendra," Giles said as he placed his weapons bag on the trunk of a nearby parked car and pulled the doll from it. "I'm not going to succeed where a Slayer failed."
"Okay then, crossbow bolt through the old heart," Xander insisted. "We can sneak around to the back of the mansion and take her by surprise."
"She's an elder vampire, Xander. She may be insane, but she's not going to be an easy target."
"So what, you're going to use the doll as a hostage for Willow's return?" Xander said in exasperation.
"Shut up and hand me the pocket mirror and the roll of tape from the bag." Giles loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt. Xander stared at him as he fished Jenny's rose quartz necklace out from under his shirt and pulled it off over his head. "Mirror?" Giles prompted again.
Xander pulled the items out of the bag and passed them over.
"Our problem is that the doll can be used in only one active spell at a time," Giles told Xander as he looped the rose quartz necklace around the doll's neck and dropped the stone under the doll's dress. "If Cordelia is relying on her illusion spell for protection right now, it's going to be broken."
Xander shivered. "Okay, but you said it would only be good for a few seconds anyway, right?"
Giles opened the doll's dress, taped the pocket mirror to its body, and refastened the garment. "The spell will last for as long as the target doesn't doubt the illusion. I may be endangering Cordelia by breaking the spell prematurely. If she's under its protection now." He looked at Xander.
"If she needed to use the spell, she probably used it right when she --"
"Probably."
"B-but this spell . . . Are you going in for the confusion factor here? Drusilla's not going to be fooled for long if you go in disguised as her, is she?"
"Willow mentioned something about recursion last night. It gave me an idea." Giles looked at Xander expressionlessly. "I need to cast a spell now. It's highly experimental. You're still my Watcher for spell castings. If you tell me to stop, I will."
"Can we get Willow out without it?" Xander said, chilled by the look in the older man's eyes.
"We can try," Giles said.
"Damn, I hate this," Xander said. "Remind me when we're out of this never to dis your Watcherly skills again."
Giles smiled with only a small spark of humor, but Xander still felt closer to him for it. The teenager wrapped his arms around himself to steady the shakes. "Okay," he said. "Go for it."
Giles set the doll down on the trunk lid, spoke a few phrases of Latin and waved his hand over it. "Done," he said, and carefully picked the doll up using his handkerchief.
"Done?" Xander blinked.
"Half done, then." Giles eased the doll into his left coat pocket. He picked up the weapons bag and handed it to Xander. "The rest will have to wait until I'm with Drusilla."
"Pet," Spike said as he tried to look at his companion around an armload of boxes and bags. "You seem to be in a good mood tonight."
"I am?" Drusilla drifted up to the counter display of a jewelry store at the mall. She was regarding the rows and rows of gold bracelets, necklaces, rings, and other baubles with softly gleaming eyes. Spike was used to his paramour's attraction to glitter, but she usually saved this kind of predatory intentness for the objects of her dinner.
"Let me see that one," Drusilla said to the salesgirl. She leaned over the glass counter and tapped the glass with one exquisitely honed fingernail.
"That's really pretty," the salesgirl -- a tasty young thing in a tight burgundy dress -- smiled perkily at Dru and bent to unlock the case. "It'll look so cool with that outfit too."
"Oh please," said Dru, "this dress is so not gold accessorizable. I know what will go with it though."
Spike eased the packages onto the glass top of the counter and leaned an elbow onto the counter, his chin propped up against his fist.
"Is this supposed to be fourteen karat?" Drusilla said as the salesgirl fastened the necklace about her neck. "I don't think so."
"Let me see." The salesgirl twisted the tag around to read it. "Oh, you're right. It's gold plate."
"Well duh then. What's the point?"
"Look at these ones." The girl pulled a tray out from under the counter. "We just got this shipment in."
Spike had seen Drusilla in some strange moods, but tonight's expedition of consumer greed was a first. He took the opportunity to light up a cigarette, as he pondered how to jolly her out of it. The salesgirl had a long and lovely neck, a warm blush along her cheeks hinted at the blood pulsing just beneath the surface of her delicate skin. But oddly enough, tonight Drusilla seemed more interested in the gold chain necklace that looped about the girl's neck.
"Yeah, my chain is from here," the salesgirl was saying proudly as she fingered her necklace. "I'll only buy the good stuff. Now --" she leaned close to Drusilla to fasten one of the new necklaces. Spike stared at the area of the girl's neck below the ear. The pulse of her carotid was touched by a single mahogany curl of hair. His mouth watered.
But Drusilla only drew back and fluffed her hair.
"You can tell the quality by the way it feels against your skin, can't you?" the salesgirl said. "Would you like to see how you look?" She pulled a small mirror out from behind the counter.
"Um, no thanks." Drusilla looked at Spike and tipped the mirror face down. "I'll take it. Spike?"
Spike straightened and pulled his Visa card from his coat pocket. He flipped it to the counter for the tenth -- or was it the twentieth? -- time that night. "Dru, aren't you getting peckish yet?"
"Peckish? Oh. Gee Spike, I ate just before -- I mean just after dark. Besides we haven't hit the leather store yet. Can't we go there first? Please?"
Spike could never resist her when she said 'please' and fluttered those dark eyelashes at him.
"Eight hundred sixty-three dollars and seventy two cents," the salesgirl said, handing Spike charge slip and pen and smiling at him pertly.
Spike growled low down in his throat, aching to get his fangs into that smile. But the mall was swarming with people. He hated shopping malls -- they were always too crowded. Maybe he could get Dru to go into the bookstore with him. There wouldn't be nearly as many people there; he could catch a quick bite in the poetry aisle. He picked up the pen and signed the slip. "Can we go now, pet?"
"Yes, Spike." Drusilla was pondering a case of designer watches now.
"Dru, I bought you a watch at the other jewelry store. A bloody expensive one." Spike looped an arm around her waist and nibbled at the back of her neck.
His Dark Queen shivered and turned away from the display. "All right. Get the packages?"
Spike frowned at her. Something was bothering him -- beyond Drusilla's admittedly bizarre behavior. Bouts of atypical behavior were typical for her from time to time. But she seemed almost alien to him now, as if she'd changed in some fundamental way since she'd left him.
That's it, Spike thought. We've been a pair for so long, I'd forgotten what it was like to be with her for the first time.
Dru took his elbow and leaned against him as they walked back out into the mall. "It's been a nice evening," she said hesitantly.
"Yeah," said Spike, "any night I can spend with you, pet. The surroundings are a bit much though. What's say you and I go out on the town for a bit of a tear now?"
She let go of his arm. "What about the Slayer?"
"Slayer's scarpered." Spike looked at her again. "You know that. Unless --"
Drusilla glanced over at him with something like panic in her eyes. "Yes but --!"
Spike dropped the packages on a convenient bench. "What have you seen, Dru?"
"Seen?" Drusilla squeaked. "Oh! I see . . ." She shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "She's come back, Spike! I see her now! She's -- she's got a really bad haircut."
"Fuck," growled Spike.
"But she won't look for us here." Dru sidled up to him again and toyed with the lapels of his duster. "We can have all night together here -- or at least until the mall closes."
Spike grabbed her by the hips and kissed her violently. She made a sound low down in her throat and threw her arms around his neck to return the kiss.
Something abruptly shifted. At first Spike thought an earth tremor had passed under their feet -- bloody fine with him, he could do with a bit of panic and mayhem. Then he realized that Drusilla's body had flushed with an inexplicable heat.
"Baby?" he said in alarm, and thrust her at arm's length so he could examine her. "What the fuck?!"
"Oh shit," the girl in his grasp exclaimed. She jumped back out of his grip. "I knew I shouldn't have let you get all touchy-feely."
"Now hold on," Spike snarled. He grabbed onto her with a no longer loving passion. "You're one of the Slayer's toadies."
"Ow!" she yelped. "I'm not a toady. I just hang out with them sometimes. You're stretching my sweater. You'd better let go right now, or I'm going to scream."
"Right," Spike said in disgust. "Bring one of the mall coppers to your rescue. I'll have him for dessert. Right after I've made a snack out of you." He grabbed her hair and forced her back against the bench.
"Spike, we're being stared at."
"Where's Dru?" he growled at her, giving her a teeth- rattling shake for good measure.
"I don't know! Gods, you think I asked for you to kidnap me from the front of the high school? Let go of me!"
Spike grinned suddenly, wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her again. "I've got a better idea, luv," he said when he pulled back. "Let's you and I go out and have a look round for Drusilla. She's taken a fancy to that tweedy Watcher of yours and given what I've seen of him when he drops the nice guy act, you don't want to have to deal with what Dru's likely to make of him."
The girl shoved him away, but not terribly hard. "Giles is at home tonight. She's out of luck."
"Let's go have a talk with him then, luv." He pulled her close to his side. "I'll collect Dru and you lot can go back to living whatever's left of your pathetic lives."
"Hey," she said, "at least I can get a decent tan. Stop! Get my packages."
Spike laughed. "You're not in any position to give me orders, pet."
She elbowed him hard in the ribs -- she packed a wallop for a mortal. "Those are my compensation for being scared to death tonight. Get them, Spike. You owe me. Besides, we already paid for them."
"You listen here --" he growled
"You want to stand and scream at me, go ahead. If you want to get out of here and look for your girlfriend before Giles dusts her, then get my packages."
"Huh," Spike said derisively. "Dru can take that Slayerless Watcher any day of the week."
"Oh yeah? Who do you think gave me this spell to look like her? Giles is a Master of the Black Arts. All he has to do is conjure a spell to make himself look like you and get within smooching distance of her with a pointed stick."
He glared at her. "You're lying, girl. If he had that kind of power, he would have done a number on Angelus long before that final blow-out."
"Believe what you want," she said airily. "I had you fooled."
Spike scowled, then gathered up the packages. "You're pushing it, girl," he muttered. "You've lucked out that I need your help. Otherwise --"
"Yadda yadda," she said, grabbing a bag as it toppled off the top. "Be careful! That's the perfume. And my name's Cordelia."
Giles walked towards the front door to the mansion. He tried to focus on an image of Xander watching his back from just down the street, rather than on the looming medieval planes of the mansion ahead of him. But his sense of aloneness was growing. He stopped before he reached the door to take several deep centering breaths. He had to get his hammering heartbeat under control. He was going into a vampire's den. Any palpable fear on his part would only trigger her blood lust.
He shut his eyes and attempted to find some reassuring sense of Willow inside, but their emotional bond had died again. Probably it was gone for good now -- unless they ever had reason to spell cast together again.
"Let there at least be that potential," he thought with sadness and an incipient desperation.
He slipped his right hand into his pocket and ran his fingers over the cross -- the one weapon, besides the doll, that he'd brought with him. He'd taken it more for Xander's peace of mind than his own.
Giles moved to the entrance and tried the doorknob. The door opened silently. He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. This was a calculated risk. He might have done better in knocking and forcing Drusilla to come up front where he could confront her face on. But he was still uncertain as to who she might have with her. This interval of potentially unsupervised passage might offer him some small element of surprise.
Standing in the front passageway, he was momentarily trapped in his memories, first of the mansion in Buffy's nightmare and then back to his own all too real eternal night imprisoned here.
This isn't then, Giles tried to convince himself. I have some control now. He focused again on the image of Xander not far behind him, and moved on in. Drusilla would be in the courtyard with Acathla, or somewhere nearby. He hoped Willow would be with her. He needed to know where she was before he could do anything else; he wasn't certain exactly how the spell, once triggered, would play itself out.
He became aware of a low murmur in the background.
The sound froze in his bloodstream, stilling his breath and bringing him to a halt. In the night quiet he could make out the strains of the song. "Bloodletting" by Concrete Blonde. The CD had been in Jenny's personal collection, part of her legacy to him after she died. Giles smiled, in spite of himself. Unlike Jenny Calendar, vampires tended to be very predictable in their aesthetic tastes. Jenny would, no doubt, have been highly amused.
He reached the doors to the courtyard, hesitated, then pushed them open. They swung silently inwards.
A fire had been lit, but it only enhanced the feeling of coldness inside. Acathla still stood at the center of the cavernous room, his grimace seeming to shift in the dim wavering firelight. The Watcher stared at the demon, transfixed for a moment. He shook himself out of it. Any moment of distraction now was dangerous. He stepped inside, again leaving the door open. He'd instructed Xander to stay outside, but he knew the boy well enough to know that he'd be following him in at some point.
Giles carefully examined the numerous shadowed spaces and corners, alert for any sense of movement within. A small noise to one side attracted his attention, and he shifted, taking care to keep half an eye on the open doorway behind him.
"Willow," he said softly, and quelled a strong urge to rush to her. She sat on a heap of cushions piled on the floor near Acathla. She'd been bound and gagged, her cheek was bruised, and she watched him with immense and frightened eyes, but otherwise she seemed unharmed.
Giles stepped to one side and examined the room again. It appeared to hold just the two of them. Finally, he allowed himself to go to Willow. He knelt before her and pulled the gag from her mouth.
"Giles, you shouldn't have come," she gasped. Her face was tear-streaked, but she seemed calm now.
"Shh," he said and checked on her bound hands. He pulled a pen-knife from his pocket, hesitated, then slipped the cross out and pushed it up into her face.
"What are you doing?" Willow whispered, shrinking back at the motion. She looked at the cross and relaxed. "Oh. Right. But I'm Jewish. Would it even work on me?"
"Yes." Giles hesitated again, then moved a hand up the side of her neck along the pulseline. He pulled her towards him and kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping inside her mouth to touch her tongue.
"Whoa," said Willow, gasping for breath when they finally pulled apart.
Giles bent to saw at her bonds. "Where's Drusilla?"
"I don't know," she said desperately. "She knew you you'd arrived. She went somewhere. She said she'd be back."
The ropes were tough. Giles gave up on her wrists and checked her feet. They were tied with the same thick rope with similarly tight knots. "Damn this," he said, and picked her up in his arms and stood. He staggered a moment as her weight stressed his injured ribs, then bit his lip against the pain and settled her against his chest. "Is anybody else here in the house?" he gasped.
"I don't think so. She was complaining about not knowing where Spike is. Giles, she -- she's sort of not quite right."
Giles rolled his eyes and shifted her weight so he could keep the cross in front of them. "Maybe she's forgotten about us." He turned and faltered to a stop.
"That is so romantic," Drusilla said, watching them from the doorway, her head cocked. "Except you look like you're about to drop her."
"You're right," Giles said, and let Willow slip from his arms onto the floor, easing her fall with a hand under her arm. He used his other hand to bring the cross up.
Drusilla frowned and looked away from it, but otherwise didn't seem unduly intimidated. "That wasn't very gallant of you." She looked down at the disheveled Willow. "Are you all right, dear?"
"Yes, fine," Willow said in a small voice.
"I brought something for you to wear," Drusilla declared. She held up a long silky black garment. "It's a party gown. But you aren't dressed at all." She pondered Giles for a moment. "Maybe there's something in Angel's wardrobe. Black leather . . ."
He shuddered. "I'm quite comfortable in what I'm wearing, thank you."
"We all need to be properly dressed to celebrate," Drusilla continued. "Do you like my hat?"
Giles glanced at the flowery, wide-brimmed sun hat. "It's very becoming. What are we celebrating?"
"Lots of things," Dru said coyly.
"Could you cut me loose?" Willow prompted from the floor. "So I can get dressed?"
Drusilla smiled at Giles. "Later, dearie," she said. "Rupert and I want a dance first."
He looked into her eyes, saw his death there, and abruptly tore his gaze away again. "Very well," he said, and slipped the cross into his pocket.
Drusilla smiled and slinked forward, dropping the black dress next to Willow. She pulled the hat from her head to drop on top of the dress, then offered her hands to Giles.
He stepped towards her, sliding his left hand into his jacket pocket while he reached out to her with his right.
Dru's hand closed around his throat while she latched onto his left wrist. "You wouldn't spoil my party, lovely?" She smiled at him dangerously.
"Not at all," he managed to choke out. "You left something in my office. I thought you might want it back."
Her grip on his wrist and throat loosened marginally. She leaned forward, staring into his eyes. Giles tried to tear his gaze from hers, but she held him in a hazy thrall.
Drusilla caught his lips in a soft kiss, then she pulled slightly back. "You've been talking to the moonlight again tonight," she whispered. "I can taste it on you. You're all glittery with it. What did it tell you?"
Giles pulled himself raggedly out of an incapacitating sense of her. "We had tea," he told her. "We talked of daylight."
Drusilla frowned and he eased his hand from his pocket. He held the doll up and offered it to her. "Here. This is yours, I believe."
"Miss Edith has been drinking tea with the moon too," Drusilla said as she stared at the doll. "She's all shimmery, like you."
Giles smiled at her and reached over to tilt her face towards him. "Shall I tell you a secret that I shouldn't tell you, my dear?"
"Oh yes." Drusilla grinned at him.
"Miss Edith and I kissed. Like this." He pulled her face towards his and kissed her even as he pressed the doll into her hand. He pulled back. "Would you like me to do that again?"
"Yes?" she said with an almost shy smile. He kissed her again, hard, then stepped back from her. Drusilla clutched the doll to her chest with one hand.
"Shall we dance then?" Giles said.
She looked up at him and nodded.
"Say 'yes'," he prompted her gently.
"Let's dance. Yes," Drusilla said. Her eyes widened in terror. She staggered back, then fell.
"How can you drive like this?" Cordelia complained. She rubbed at the painted over-windshield, as Spike steered his car through the Sunnydale streets. "Your insurance premiums must be murder."
"Yeah, insurance, right," Spike growled. He pulled his car up to the curb by the Watcher's apartment building.
"Not that this car would be worth fixing," she continued. "Ouch -- Let go of me! If you'd just ask!"
"If you'd just shut the bloody fuck up." Spike shoved his door open and dragged her out of the car after him. "Com'on, ducks. I need you along in case I need an invite."
"For such a nasty person you sure worry a lot about the social niceties," she said. Spike gave up on trying to hurry her along by force, and picked her up to carry her bodily up the sidewalk.
"Okay see?" she said, twisting back at an awkward angle to see where they were going. "The light's off. Nobody is at home. Now put me down!"
Spike dropped her to her feet, morphed, and shoved her up against the wall of the building. "Where the fuck are they?"
"How should I know? Do I keep Giles' social calendar? -- not that that wouldn't be a brain-dead job." She clawed at his hands on her throat. "You're bruising. Boy you've got the Jekyll and Hyde routine down flat. Have you ever thought about moving to Toronto and becoming a cop? You can be Good Cop and Bad Cop at the same time."
Spike glared at her, then started to laugh. "Right little spitfire you are, pet. Bet one of your grandmums had a backseat rumble with a demon somewhere along the line."
"Take that back!" Cordelia tried to knee him.
Spike shoved her flat against the building so she couldn't get her leg up and bent to nip gently at her neck. "How would you fancy keeping these good looks for an eternity?" he growled in her ear.
"You really want a pissed-off Me-Demon out to kick your butt?" she answered breathlessly.
"Temptress." Spike grinned. "And wouldn't you and Dru just mix?"
She shoved ineffectually at him. "Do you want your girlfriend back or not?"
Spike grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her back up the sidewalk.
"What now?" she said in exasperation. There was only the finest edge of fear in her voice -- but Spike was very good at discerning fear beneath bravado. Bloody shame -- he liked her actually. A waste, if he had to kill her. However he didn't fancy having her in tow for eternity -- not that Drusilla would tolerate it in any case.
"They're not at the school, not at his apartment," Spike declared, and tossed her back into his car. "Third time's the charm, luv. Back to the mansion. And she'd better be in one piece when we get there."
"What happened?" Drusilla sat on the floor of the mansion, looking around her frantically. Her eyes fixed on Giles and widened. "Rupert?"
"It's all right." He reached down to help her to her feet. "Willow and I are here."
She looked over at the girl. "Willow? What's happening? I can't remember."
"Don't try." He tilted her face up and kissed her gently on the lips. "We need to get out of here. Let me do what I need to do."
"I --"
"Please, Jenny."
She blinked rapidly, then nodded. "Yes."
"Good girl." He turned to Willow.
She was staring at Drusilla. "Ms. Calendar?" she said hesitantly, then turned her gaze to Giles. "How --?"
"Later," Giles said. He pulled his penknife from his pocket again and bent to saw at the ropes around Willow's ankles. "When we're someplace safe."
Drusilla hastened to his side. "Where are we? Willow, are you okay?"
"Fine," Willow said shakily.
After a painfully quiet minute of work, he managed to get through the rope. He broke through the last few strands with a harsh pull that drew a yelp from Willow. He ran a soothing hand down the rope burns on her skin, then grabbed her under one arm and pulled her to her feet.
Drusilla reached for her other arm, but Willow shrank back. They stared at each other for a moment, Dru looking hurt and bewildered. Willow swallowed audibly then and leaned in to accept the other woman's help.
Together Giles and Drusilla half-carried her to the door. Dru held her doll clutched to her chest in her free arm, as if it had become a forgotten but tangible part of her. Not that it mattered now -- its work had already been done.
They moved through the hall of the mansion towards the front door. None of them spoke, keeping a conspiracy between them of silence of the awful questions that would have to eventually be asked and answered.
Giles felt cold and distanced from what was happening, aloof from Willow and from Drusilla. As if everything that had passed, was to come, was simply part and parcel of still another prophecy, and he that prophecy's tool of becoming. He'd had to steel himself to ignore the horrors of his past experiences here to enter the mansion. In order to leave now he had to quash his fears of the future stemming from his actions.
He'd been heading toward this point of immediacy most of his adult life. As a Watcher to an active Slayer he knew that he might eventually reach it. He no longer had a future or a past, no self beyond what present necessity required, only the awful moment of now. The best Watchers, he'd been told, came to this point sooner or later. He'd hoped to never reach this level of competency. The personal price had always seemed too terrible, even to somebody who'd already dedicated his life to the Sacred Duty.
Giles halted at the threshold to the mansion's front door. Several figures stood outside.
"Well, it's a real party, isn't it?" Spike said from the doorway. He held Cordelia loosely by the throat against his chest. Xander stood uneasily a short distance back, the crossbow ready but pointed at the ground. "Guess you got your crowd, Dru."
She edged closer to Giles. "Rupert --"
"Let me handle this," Giles said expressionlessly. He turned to Spike. "You've found what you came for. Let the girl go, and we'll all be on our way."
Spike shifted his grip on Cordelia's throat to pull a cigarette from his pocket. He put it in his mouth and lit it with one hand. "Dunno, mate. I've taken a fancy to this little tart here. Maybe we'll take her along for the ride."
Giles smiled. "Not likely. She's all you have to bargain with at the moment."
Spike blew out a cloud of smoke. "Right. She's a bit on the expensive side anyway. Truce then? Get this wanker to put the pointy down and we'll deal." He looked expectantly at Drusilla, then frowned. "Baby, are you okay?"
She backed away and looked at Giles. "Rupert, what's he talking about?"
"Truce," said Giles.
Spike was still staring at Drusilla, his frown deepening. "Dru, are you okay?"
She looked at him with immense, frightened eyes.
Spike stared at her with a preternatural stillness, then abruptly morphed into snarling game face. Cordelia gave a small scream as his fingers bit into her throat.
"Xander!" Giles called out.
Xander aimed the crossbow at Spike, realized that a bolt would get both vampire and his girlfriend, and swung it to point at Drusilla.
"No!" Willow shrieked, and tried to run towards Xander.
Giles threw his arm out and grabbed her, pulling her against his side. "Keep it pointed there, Xander."
Drusilla turned to look at him with a stunned expression. "Rupert?"
"Even trade, Spike," Giles said, refusing to look at her. "Each woman, as is."
Spike shifted his yellowed eyes between his lover and the mortal man. "All right, Watcher," he said lowly. "Even trade. But when I find out what you've done to her, I'm coming back to pull your ribs out your throat."
Giles turned to Drusilla and spoke to her quietly. "You've got to go with him. It's the only way we can save Cordelia. He won't harm you. Trust me on that."
She blinked and wavered, panic and confusion warring with other deeper emotions in her eyes.
"Tell her, Spike," Giles said. "Tell her that she'll be safe with you."
Spike gave a low growl, and Drusilla shrank back. That seemed to bring him back to his senses, and with a look of fierce concentration he morphed back to human face. "Baby," he said to her. "You know I wouldn't hurt you. Not unless you asked me to."
Willow stood like a statue in Giles' embrace. He eased her off to one side, moved to Dru and took her hands. "I'm sorry," he said to her in a low voice that none of the others could hear. "Jenny, you're under a spell. Spike thinks that you're Drusilla. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"He loves her. He won't hurt you. Go with him, humor him. You can walk away from him later."
She nodded again slowly, entranced.
Giles bent to kiss her. "Stay here until I call you." He turned and walked to Spike and Cordelia.
"She hasn't been injured," Giles told Spike. "I cast a spell on her to keep her from harming Willow and myself. It can be broken, but I won't tell you how until the others have walked clear from here."
Spike glared at him, shifting his grip on Cordelia's throat as he ran possibilities through his head. "The redhead and the wanker walk," he finally said. "This girly stays until Dru's herself again."
"And then you both take the two of us apart?" Giles said. "I think not."
Spike laughed harshly. "Tell the crossbow to sod off."
Giles walked to Xander and pushed the readied crossbow down. "Get Willow clear, Xander."
Xander looked at him anxiously. "But --"
"It's an armistice," Giles said. "We have to withdraw some of our troops."
Xander swallowed and moved to take Willow's arm. She looked at him as if she might refuse, then looked at Giles. Wordlessly, she moved with Xander back towards the street.
Giles walked back to where Spike stood with Cordelia still in a strangle-hold.
"The girl now," he told Spike.
Spike looked at Dru, then back at Giles.
"If you kill Cordelia, I'll bloody well tell you nothing," Giles said.
"And you think I couldn't get it out of you?" the vampire said.
"Perhaps. On the other hand, Angelus already had a good go at that game. How much time do you want to take? One way or another, you still have me to deal with. You have my word if you release her."
"I could start in on her." Spike eased his grip and stroked Cordelia's cheek with two fingers. She shut her eyes and bit at her lip.
Giles stared stonily back.
"Angelus said that you're a bloody laughable man of your word," Spike said finally. "All right, mate. This bitch walks." He released Cordelia and stepped back.
She stumbled away and rubbed at her throat. "Giles, he's just going to kill you after you tell him what he wants," she said defiantly.
"Spike's a man of his word too," Giles said. "Go on, Cordelia. Tell Xander and Willow that I'll join you momentarily."
"You're taking a lot on faith there, Watcher," Spike said as she walked away.
Giles shrugged. "I do have your word?"
"You and your pubescent Mod Squad will get the usual head start from me. If I catch any of you later in a dark alley --"
"Fair enough." Giles looked over at Drusilla, who was standing by herself looking very alone. "I cast an illusions spell on her doll and gave it to her. She's triggered the spell. It will break when she stops believing in it."
"What bloody illusions spell?" Spike said, looking at her again. "If you're trying to put another ringer over on me --"
"The spell put a veil over her own mind," Giles said patiently. "To us she is who she appears to be. In her mind, she is someone else. All you need to do is create some small doubt in her mind as to that sense of identity."
Spike gazed at his paramour. "Drusilla, luv. Don't let this wanker play games with your head. Remember Rio -- you bloody well do remember Rio, don't you pet?"
"Of course I do -- Spike," she said, still looking to Giles.
Spike grabbed Giles hard by the arm and shoved the Watcher at her. "Then finish this pouftah off!"
"No!" She threw herself between them. "Leave him alone! I-I'll go with you, but don't hurt him."
From behind her, Giles smiled coldly at Spike.
Spike stood in silence for a moment, his expression shifting between murderous rage and dismay. "Oh, you're quite the clever one, aren't you Watcher?" he finally said. "I did humanity a big favor by not letting Dru put the bite on you -- you're a right enough bastard without having benefit of a demon."
"Just take her and leave," Giles said.
Spike gave him a look of pure murder, but took Drusilla's arm. She shrank away from his touch, but didn't resist as he pulled her away.
"Spike," Giles said, just low enough for the vampire's ears only. "Fair warning. I'd watch her during the day if I were you. She might take it in her head to go for a walk."
"If she does," Spike said lowly. "You'll be bloody well sorry you ever saw the insides of your mum's womb."
Giles turned his back on them and walked towards the van.
Xander was sitting behind the wheel. He leaned across the seat to open the passenger side door, and Giles got in. Cordelia and Willow were in the back, working at the ropes on Willow's wrists. Giles took the penknife from his pocket and crawled back to help them. "Willow, are you all right?"
"Fine," Willow said tersely, refusing to meet his eyes. "Just fine."
Cordelia sat back to regard them both. "So you went and left her with him," she finally said.
"We're going back to get her," Willow insisted.
"No," he said. He felt Willow's astonished gaze on him then, and it was his turn to refuse to look up. "She's still Drusilla. Not Jenny." He finally managed to wedge the knife blade into the knot and sawed at it.
"Oh." Cordelia considered this. "But she thought she was Jenny. How did you do that?"
"She was already obsessing about Jenny -- a side effect of her reading my mind." The rope broke and Giles tugged at the freed ends of the knot. "I had her doll and Jenny's quartz amulet. I put together a recursive version of the same illusions spell I cast for you."
"Is that why my spell broke all of a sudden? You used the doll for a second spell -- Hey, I was with Spike. You could have gotten me killed!" Cordelia said.
Giles pushed the ropes from Willow's hands and took her wrists to rub some circulation into them.
"Don't." Willow pulled her hands from his. "I can do it myself," she said, and turned towards the door. Away from him.
Giles studied her for a moment, then turned around to climb back to the front seat. "Let's get out of here, Xander," he said with a weary detachment.
Willow sat on the front steps to Sunnydale High. It was afternoon and it was hot. She was well on her way to a bad sunburn, but she didn't move. Not to go in search of shade, or sun screen lotion, or a cold soda. She wanted to suffer.
A shadow fell across her face, cheating her of even that bit of penance. "You're going to look like a boiled lobster if you stay there. You already look kind of pink. Like a wad of chewed up bubble gum."
"You were going shopping today. To look for sun hats," Willow said petulantly. Trust Cordelia not to ever give her a break, even in self-pity.
"Well, yeah, but I decided I ought to save something to shop for down in Mexico," the other girl said. "There's not going to be much else to do down there from the sounds of things." After closely scrutinizing the steps, she sat down next to Willow.
Willow said nothing, just beat her heels sullenly against the lower steps.
"Well, gee," Cordelia finally said, "for someone soaking up the rays, Little Miss Sunshine you're not. Not so easy having guys interested in you, is it?"
"How could he?" Willow blurted out. "Giles loved Ms. Calendar. How could he use her like that?"
Cordelia looked at her as if she were crazy -- not a first-time thing. "What are you talking about? Ms. Calendar's dead. If Drusilla gets an identity crisis, well it's no hair off Jenny's head. Bet she wouldn't be having this hissy fit about it anyway."
Willow scowled. "He shouldn't have done it. You don't use people's memories like that, even if they are dead. Not people you love anyway."
"All right then," Cordelia said disgustedly. "If you want to crawl back into your pathetic little shell of a pre- Buffy existence, fine. But all I can say is that you'd better put your magic books away, because somebody who's still thinking about love in a Barbi-and-Ken way shouldn't be messing around with that stuff. Giles loved Jenny, but he loves you. He did what he had to do to get you out of there. If you can't cope with that, tell him and let him move on."
Willow snuffled and wiped at her nose with her still- chafed wrist.
"Euwww. If you're going to blubber, here." Cordelia shoved a tissue at her.
"I don't know what to think," Willow finally said. "I love Oz. He's funny, he's cute. He -- he likes me a lot. And he hasn't ever done anything -- he's never wigged me out. Not in non-wolfy mode anyway. How can I love Giles too? Even after he -- And -- and I can't. I shouldn't. It's messy, and I'll hurt Oz, and there's no reason to love more than one guy. Why would I do that? Nothing good's gonna come of it."
"Oh well," said Cordelia. "Of course, you're going to fall for guys according to some logical plan. If it were that easy to control, do you honestly think I'd be with Xander? Might as well fall in love with a rich guy."
"What should I do, Cordelia?
"You're honestly asking me for an opinion? Despite your being wigged by that black magic Giles did and all?"
Willow nodded.
"Well --" Cordelia mused. "Let's see. You've got Oz: Musician -- that's a major plus. He's got a reputation as cool. He's only a year older than you, which is good because you can go out to the movies and smooch without worrying about who's watching. Matter of fact, you want to be seen with him because it ups your cool quotient. On the other hand he's short, he's follicly indecisive, if his band flops he's going to go nowhere because he doesn't want to do anything else, and there's that whole werewolf thing which is fine as long as you're satisfied with vanilla sex but could be a real hassle otherwise."
Willow blinked.
"Then there's Giles: British -- that's always a plus. He's tall and dresses okay -- better than Oz anyway. Older men know more -- plus he can get you into the over-21 clubs, if you can convince him to get his ass out of that library once in a while that is. He's weird, but not in a three times a month I-Was-A-Teenage-Werewolf way, so that's 36 hours a month more that you'd have with him. And you can enjoy your hickeys without fear of turning into a dog."
Willow rubbed at her neck.
"On the other hand, you cannot be seen at the Bronze with him, and everyone will think you have no boyfriend and therefore are a dork. He's a major workaholic. And he's always gonna put Buffy -- yuck -- ahead of you on his priority list. Then there's this whole issue of him wigging you out. I'll bet he gets even better at that with time."
"Oh," Willow said. "Good score list. But how do they add up?"
Cordelia considered. "You know, Ricky Shruggs is still asking me about you."
Willow moaned and hid her face on her knees.
"That's the wonderful world of guys," Cordelia said. "Great fun, huh? Do them both a favor, Willow. Make up your mind and stick with it. More than one serious guy at a time -- that's more than I'd want to take on. Disaster City for you."
"Thanks a lot," Willow said, not moving her head from her knees.
"You're welcome." Cordelia stood. "Okay. I'll see you at the end of the summer. Assuming that you guys don't seriously screw everything up and get yourselves killed between now and then. Keep an extra eye on Xander for me, will you? One of these days he's gonna try to do a Clint Eastwood at the wrong time and discover that he's PeeWee Herman instead."
"We'll be careful," Willow said with a sigh.
"Okay then." Cordelia shouldered her purse. "Hello, Oz. Nice hair color. Why don't you leave it at that for awhile?" She looked at Willow. "You can add early baldness to his scorecard."
Oz eyed Cordelia as she walked off. "She's keeping a scorecard on me?"
Willow laughed nervously. "She's keeping a scorecard on everyone."
He sat next to her. "So I've got the full moon out of the way for the month. You want to do a movie tonight?"
"Sure." Willow listlessly picked at a crack in the concrete.
"The movie line-up isn't that bad," Oz said. "But if you like, we can go to the video store and rent the 'Blues Brothers' again instead."
"Ok," she sighed.
A shadow fell across them, and Willow looked up into Giles' hazel eyes. She opened her mouth and shut it again, looking away.
"A lead?" Oz asked, nodding at the overnight case in the Watcher's hand.
"Yes," Giles said. "An acquaintance called this morning. There was a mention in a local newspaper about a teenage girl rescuing a couple from a gang attack. In San Diego. Willow . . .?"
She looked up at him again.
"How are you?" Giles said quietly.
"Okay," she said, trying to sound carefree -- but it only ended up sounding shrill to her own ears. She tried to smile at him, to meet his eyes, but found she could do neither. "Oz -- Oz and I are going to the movies tonight."
Nobody said anything for a long moment. Oz looked between the two of them. "We can do the video thing," he ventured.
"Well. Enjoy then," Giles said, with a weak smile. He turned to move down the steps.
Willow grasped Oz's hand as she watched the Watcher walk away. "Giles?"
He turned to look up at her.
"I -- I never thanked you. For getting me away from Drusilla last night, I mean."
Giles nodded. "You're welcome."
"When will you be back from San Diego?"
"I don't know," he said. "Until I either find Buffy, or exhaust all the leads."
"Okay then. Good luck."
Giles nodded again and turned to walk down the rest of the stairs and towards the staff parking lot.
"Do you need anything?" Oz said, pressing her hand between his.
Willow shook her head and rested one cheek on his shoulder. "I'm okay," she said, using Cordelia's balled-up tissue to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I'm set."
END