Switcheroony
by alicorn
chapter 36
[reviews]
Buffy could hear movement and sighing. Someone was outside, no - behind her. She was disappointed to realize that it was only her guard and not the person she so longed to see. This forced solitude was really beginning to get on her nerves. It had her totally on edge, mainly because she knew she wasn't truly alone. There was a group of heavily armed men out there determined to keep her company, if at a distance. But she couldn't see or hear them, she didn't know what they were doing, she couldn't do anything help herself or her would-be rescuers. She hadn't felt this powerless since her parents had decided to divorce.
She was somewhat surprised at how much she missed having others around her, especially since she'd spent so much of her life feeling as if she was alone even in a crowd. If it hadn't been for Willow and Xander, she was pretty sure she would have ended up with Cordelia's crowd which would surely have left her on her own once they realized she was different and not quite normal - by their standards. What did she ever do to deserve two such loyal friends? She'd have turned into a real loner, more of a weirdo than she probably seemed to most of the outside world. 'Oh yeah, and my life's so normal now.'
But who was she kidding? She would have been dead long ago if it hadn't been for Willow and Xander. They kept her steady, sane, informed, okay Xander wasn't big with the research she needed, but he'd fought by her side. They both had, they'd been on the front lines with her and helped her to remember that she was a human being, a person, as well as the Slayer. Giles may have simply been her watcher at one time but he now mattered more to her than she'd ever really thought her watcher could or would; although a simple look, would always tell her exactly what he was thinking or expecting from her, it was the absolute faith he had in her intentions that she treasured. And Willow, her dear sweet Willow always gave her a reason to survive, to come back, and to believe in herself.
She had long ago given up worrying about what other people thought of her. At least she thought she had. For years now the only opinions that had mattered to her were those of her small self-made family. And it was their feelings, opinions and safety that now occupied her thoughts as she sat awaiting her rescuers, that very same family with, apparently, a few unexpected additions.
Buffy was more than a little upset that everything that had recently happened between her and Willow had effectively taken place under their eagle eyes. Was she to have nothing that was purely her own? No privacy at all? Plus they seemed to have had their own ideas, for quite some time, about how things were or should be between them. She wasn't sure if the easy acceptance of Xander and Giles pleased or annoyed her. Anya's opinion was pretty much a given; as far as the ex-demon was concerned it was about sex, and nothing about sex was anything but good.
Just as she was starting to focus on her thoughts, she heard the noise of a radio as it burst into life.
"Zero one. Contact on my two," the radio crackled.
"Zero four, affirmative. Contact on my four. Back up requested."
Something was happening. 'Was this it?' Buffy wondered as she shifted her attention to the reports blaring from her guard's radio.
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Faith could feel the laughter building inside her at the sight of Xander towing the wrecking ball. That in itself wasn't as funny as the sight of the stoic Englishman sitting ... how could she describe it? Yeah, yeah ... sitting regally in the cab with his arms crossed in lordly expectation as if he was a king anticipating a crowd of worshipping subjects.
Meanwhile, Anya followed with the kind of lack of patience that the Dark Slayer had come to expect from the ex-demon. It was obvious that she was trying to gun the earth digger, to get some speed going. 'What was it with ex-immortals and the need for speed?' Faith wondered, recalling a discharged Sretka Demon she'd once met at a drag race. She turned her head to share her amusement with Willow, only to be confronted by a look of complete shock.
Hoping that the humorous scene before them might offer some light relief that would help remove the distressed expression from Willow's Buffy-face, she voiced her own amusement. "The Saturday morning Wacky Races 'toons have nothing on this," she blurted out. 'Maybe Will just needs help to see the funny.'
But Willow seemed to simply stare at her as if she was missing something.
Faith turned back to examine the scene before her more closely. Okay, three major boy-toys under the control of a man-child, a grown man with far too much reserve and an ex-demon with far too little. "What?" she exclaimed because she just didn't get what the hell it was that Willow was seeing.
Willow stared at Faith. 'Couldn't she see how ridiculously dangerous this was going to be?'
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"Zero one, I have some building machinery heading towards the fence at two o'clock," Slim stated, his trigger finger itching as he awaited instructions. Then he saw the Englishman raise his arm and throw something, which landed on the other side of the fence creating a ripple in the air as it landed.
"Zero six and eight move to back up Zero one," he heard Dorgan instruct but his relief was short-lived as he saw the air ripple expand. It was coming towards him!
"Zero one, they've thrown ... something. We're under attack. Permission to respond?" he requested, raising his rifle into his preferred firing position.
"Denied. They have --n't b —r-o-k-e-n o-u-r b-o-u-n-d-a-r-y . c-o-n-t-i---n---u----e t---o r-e-------p-o-r--------t ."
'What the hell was that?' Slim wondered as Dorgan suddenly sounded like someone playing a recording at half speed.
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Willow watched as the ripple moved towards them. It was too late to worry now. The clock was ticking.
"We're on," Faith stated, moving towards the edge of the loading bay. "You ready?"
"Yeah," Willow responded shaking aside her reservations. Stepping forward she locked eyes with Faith and nodded.
"Okay, then. We're heading for that storage trailer, hanging a right to that gas pump, up and over, across the gas pipe and in through the skylight," Faith said, repeating the instructions she knew she had already given but feeling that she needed to push Willow back into the game. "Keep it tight, okay? We have to move fast."
Willow nodded, not sure what lay ahead but certain that everything she had ever wanted in life was waiting for her inside that building.
The Slayers headed off at breakneck speed, launching themselves from the loading bay and shooting from the deep shadows that had hidden them from the eyes of their enemy.
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Cordelia sat in the car tapping her hands on the steering wheel. She'd been volunteered by Xander, of all people, to be the get-away driver; much to the very vocal annoyance of Anya, who had been calmed down only after Xander told her how much he needed her to operate one of the construction vehicles.
Giles had helpfully agreed with Xander and pointed out that Cordelia didn't have nearly as many hours battle experience, nor the knowledge of the area. After all, Anya had been the one to discover the site of Buffy's imprisonment.
It had taken all her willpower to hold her tongue but the pleading looks from both Giles and Xander had told her all she'd needed to know. They trusted her. She couldn't quite figure out why they didn't trust Anya with the job but apparently they didn't, and that was enough for her.
So here she sat, listening to the beginnings of the battle. She wondered how far along Faith and Willow had gotten, and if the Barder time ball thingy had worked.
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Giles kept himself low as Xander cut through the fence like a sharp knife slicing through butter. Releasing Giles and the wrecking ball, the young man quickly headed to the right as Giles slowly rolled to a halt and Anya came up on his left.
Xander had been very insistent in reminding them that the cabs of these construction vehicles might look impregnable but they were definitely not bulletproof. Anya had, therefore, raised the forked shovel of the earthmover, lifting it level with her cab. However, what concerned Giles was the very real possibility that she'd been driving all the way here with it up.
Throwing aside his momentary musings, he peeked above the rim of the window to take a quick look at his position before ducking back down and reaching for the controls. 'Oh Colin, I wish you were here,' he thought, recalling the childhood chum with whom he'd shared so many construction site misadventures.
He heard a crunch to his right and realized that Xander was already putting his bulldozer to effective use against the walls of the warehouse. Then he heard it. Something whizzed past the door of his vehicle, like a fly on speed. 'They've started shooting.' Revving his controls into gear, he let the already pre-suspended wrecking ball fly. The moment of release was filled with all of his pent-up frustrations at events and his apparent inability to see further than the end of his nose where the love life of his charge, his slayer, his surrogate daughter was concerned.
The long pause followed by a resounding crash made him giddy and he smiled childishly. 'Wanton destruction is greatly underrated,' Giles mused, as he drew the ball back for another swing. 'This is better than conkers.'
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"Z—er—o O—n—e R—p—o—r—t," Slim's radio crackled, as another part of the warehouse wall was pushed inwards.
"Oh great, we're being smashed in and Dorgan's gone all slow mo. Figures." He yanked his earpiece from his ear before glaring at it and throwing it to the ground.
"H —e -y, T —e -x. Y-o-u g-o-t a-n e-y-e-b-a-l-l y-e-t?" he yelled across the warehouse. Suddenly aware of the fact that his voice sounded an octave lower, he clutched at this throat. "W-h-a-t t-h-e h-e-l-l....?"
The rippling waves of the Barder ball were causing time to slow and then quicken each time they passed through the walls of the Warehouse. Each slow wave becoming longer than the fast ones, as the Barder ball began to settle. Very soon time would slow completely.
"N-a-h," his colleague replied, apparently ignoring their vocal difficulties "t-h-e-y-'r-e k-e-e-p-i-n-g t-h-o-s-e d-a-m-n b-u-c-k-e-t t-h-i-n-g-s s-o h-i-g-h, I c-a-n'-t g-e-t a c-l-e-a-r s-h-o-t. W-h-a-t'-s w-i-t-h D-o-r-g-a-n----?"
"D-u-n-n-o, h-e-'s o-u-t-t-a i-t," Slim replied, deciding some communication was better than none. "W-h-a-t a-b-o-u-t t-h-e t-i-r-e-s?" he asked, just as his window and surrounding wall began to rapidly move towards him. "W-h-a-t t-h-e....?"
"Zero eight, we have a breach," reported Tex, watching the wall crumble and fall on top of Slim, as a large wrecking ball blasted its way through the wall.
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Buffy could hear orders being shouted as if underwater, but the final order came through to her so fast and high-pitched that she couldn't make it out.
She could the sound hear metal against metal, heavy machinery and arms fire coming from the far side of the building. 'Oh, no! What's the gang thinking? These guys have guns!' Straining against her bonds, she only managed to cut off the circulation to her wrists. But she barely noticed. All she could think was -- 'Have to help.'
Then she heard her guard move. He was coming closer. 'Why is he ...' But her unfinished question was answered when she heard him cock his weapon. 'He's going to kill me.'
"Willow!!" she screamed, unable to help herself.
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The satisfying noise of metal falling to the ground and glass shattering fueled Xander's adrenalin as with every impact they began to move the walls inwards. As Anya was hugging the side of the building, feelings of pride welled within him as he realized that his little sex kitten had used her brain. Anya had obviously figured out that she would be harder to hit if she reduced their angle of fire.
Meanwhile, Giles appeared to have turned into a whirling dervish. Somehow he was able to cause more destruction than Xander. He was managing to get the ball back and re-strung faster than many a professional. But what really caught his attention was the twinkle he could see in the watcher's eyes every time he chose to peep over the edge of his cab. "Watch it, G-man — Snipers!"
And just as he said that, he saw a bullet puncture and shatter the glass of Giles' cab. "G-i-l-e-s?!!"
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"Flipping hell," muttered Giles, as glass showered down on him. Hitting the release he fired the ball back, having aimed just to the left of his previous contact point. His brief glance at the warehouse had given him the impression that the wall was beginning to look like a depressurized canister.
He pondered the early medieval origins of the wrecking ball. The largest one he had ever seen had been some 30 tons, with an arch of 75 feet and the ability to impact with a momentum of 300 tons. Although the one he was operating now was probably half its size, he drew a childish pleasure from the sheer destruction he was able to inflict.
This time, in recognition of the bullet that had just shattered his cab window, he attempted a quick glance out of his door. He saw Anya and her earthmover, wheels spinning against the ground as she tried to wedge her shovel into and push against the frame of a locked door. The ex-demon was crouched low in her seat peering just over her cab rim and underneath her shovel. Her leg was fully extended and Giles realized she was probably at full throttle. However, the doorframe seemed to be successfully resisting.
He wondered where Willow and Faith were at this moment. He had no way of knowing if the Barder ball had done its job. If it had worked, there should be multiple time interruption ripples moving throughout the warehouse causing communication and reaction problems for Buffy's kidnappers. Whether the ripples caused slowing down or speeding up, the time disruption should help Willow and Faith get to Buffy. Eventually time would slow everywhere for about half an hour, which would further aid their escape.
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Buffy could feel the beads of sweat slowly building up on her forehead as she continued to strain against her restraints. Ignoring the noise of the radio crackle and garbled messages, she could hear the footsteps of her guard approaching.
She found herself clenching and unclenching her fists in anticipation of a fight. But just how was she supposed to fight - bound and tied as she was. She was not accustomed to being so helpless. She didn't know how to deal with it. 'Oh Willow, where are you my darling? Please come now before it's too late,' she pleaded. She was not just worried about her own well-being — her real fear was of what would happen if her beloved was to come across her dead body. She knew that Willow would blame herself for not reaching her in time.
She was astounded as the footsteps passed behind her and then stopped again. 'What is he doing?' she wondered, cursing him for the torrent of fear that he had just caused. She hated being afraid; fear was another thing she was not accustomed to and really couldn't tolerate in herself. She wanted to know what was happening; she needed to know ... Maybe if she tried to turn around.
The bars at the base of her suspended steel cage had made any movement almost impossible and her legs had long ago grown numb at the insistent pressure from the unyielding and inflexible steel bars as they dug into her shins and sides whenever she had tried to move. So she had resigned herself to the view across the warehouse. Below her the skeleton of the suspended ceiling prevented her from seeing what was occurring directly underneath. Occasionally she had heard running feet and raised voices.
But swallowing deeply, she drew what little strength she had left as she tried to turn herself. Each movement seemed to drag one of the steel bars across her various already blackening bruises. "Oh great, wonderful ... just look at what I'm doing to Will's body. Ughhh ... well, whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger. Right?" she announced to no one in particular, as she jarred her shoulder in between two bars.
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Faith pulled herself up and onto the skylight. Sitting backwards on its rim she reached down to give Willow a hand up. The journey across the gas pipe had been a bit hairy. She could put up with heights, but that didn't mean she liked them.
As Willow's head appeared by her knees, the Slayer took a look at the interior of the warehouse. There was nothing below the skylight but a good 10-foot drop to the suspended ceiling. 'Damn it.' She shouldn't have listened to Xander. She should have taken a closer look herself. How the hell were they going to get down there without falling through that rickety looking ceiling?
Willow pulled her waist up to the rim of the skylight and allowed her body weight to pull her upper torso forward, rocking into the building to take a look for herself. It felt good to have Buffy's strong and fit body to work with. But she would much rather be admiring it on Buffy and the sooner the better. After a moment, Willow raised an eyebrow then she turned to look at Faith before glancing back towards the drop. "Do you trust me?" she asked quietly.
"Every time someone asks me that question I end up wishing I'd been somewhere else," Faith commented, following Willow's gaze, before letting their eyes meet in mutual determination. Each recognizing the Slayer within and the need they both had to see this through to its natural end, whatever that might be. "But right now I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be ... or anyone I'd rather be doing this with. So the answer's a great big — Yeah," she winked.
Willow nodded in recognition of the compliment. "I need you to link with me and we're going to have to jump together. Once we have momentum, I'm going to alter our relative density in relation to the air surrounding us so that when we land on that ceiling we won't weigh enough to break through it. The dimensional ratio is a bit tricky but as long as I make allowances for the temperature differential inside the building and natural drag ... Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand until I tell you. Okay?"
"Sounds wicked cool," the brunette responded, dismissing the somewhat disconcerting babbling and stuff she didn't understand before offering the Wiccan her hand. "Thelma & Louise it is," Faith quipped.
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Xander was growing increasingly concerned as he glanced at his watch. 'Jeeze how long have they been ... oh, wait ... the time thingy. That means that they're going at normal speed and we're going at what ... half speed. So if it's been ten minutes for us, it's been half as ... five minutes ... no twice as ... twenty minutes. Damn it, Willow! You should have left me a cheat sheet.'
Glancing to his right, he watched as Anya reversed her earthmover with most of a door frame attached to her shovel. The remaining door simply fell forward as if in slow motion sending a plume of dust from its sides as it landed on the dry dusty ground.
The spotlights surrounding the warehouse were throwing weird shadows. He thought for a moment that he saw red hair through the now open door and he was suddenly filled with fear. Faith and he had assumed that Buffy would be held somewhere near the rear of the building where a large concrete wall jutted onto the dockside. They'd figured that would be the easiest area to defend against an attack. But what if they were wrong? What if she was on the other side of this wall?
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Once again Willow allowed herself to forget the history of the woman whose hand she was now gripping tightly. Who would have ever imagined that she and the "Dark Slayer" would be willing partners in such an important mission? Who would have believed that she would ever trust her life ... and Buffy's ... to Faith?
She needed to focus and find the calm. Aware that calm seemed to be an impossibility amid all the noise and tension; she nevertheless knew it was there ... within her.
Faith stared towards the far end of the warehouse thinking that she'd caught a glimpse of something metallic in the dark shadows that covered the rear of the roof space.
There it was! Willow could almost touch it -- its calm blue essence beckoning her, calling to her. Willingly she mentally stepped forward into that calm.
Faith's chest became tight and her head light as she felt it wash through her as well. If only she could live with this feeling of calm forever. It was so true, so real, so balanced. It almost filled her with the need to cry and laugh all at the same time. Boy, she was really going to miss this.
Willow drew and gathered the magics around herself like a warm cloak, her normal nervousness and fear of failure, for once, completely absent. She could do this. She knew it. She believed it. This wasn't the borrowed slayer part ... no ... this was her. "Now," she said, leaning forward and allowing her rear to leave the skylight's rim.
Faith followed her, not with conscious will but just because. It was as if she herself had moved forward. Then she felt it ... something dragging her back. No, something holding her! "What the hell?" she yelped as she came to a sudden halt, her neck shooting forward and air being forced out of her lungs by the jolt.
"Sorry," Willow muttered. "Too soon," she offered apologetically.
No sooner had Faith commented, "Ya think?" and they were off again ... downwards.
At first, the ceiling seemed to shoot towards them but then, imperceptibly, they seemed to slow. 'That's more like it,' Faith thought just as her eyesight and brain were beginning to question the sudden change in acceleration. It was like staring at one of those optical illusions, in which you couldn't tell if you were falling or rising. Her stomach seemed to rise into her chest in complaint. But damn ... it was working!
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Dorgan made his way towards the back of the warehouse with three of his men in tow. He knew what was going on and he was damned if he was going to let it work. Sunrise would be in about two hour's time. All he had to do was to hold them off.
He wasn't sure what he feared more --- Hyatt Ramu's anger or the Slayer and her wannabes. Both were unpredictable. But at least he understood Ramu's motives. These damn do-gooders just plain baffled him.
He thought he heard something above him as they attempted to sprint down the corridor. Every two or three paces he could feel himself going into slow motion. He was fairly certain that any security tape would make him look like the two-million dollar man. They must have cast a spell, some weird kind of slow-mo thing that was messing with time, but he had no way of countering that. For some reason, better known to the senior partners, black ops didn't contain a shaman or wizard.
He'd never questioned the wisdom of that decision before; he didn't have much use for the pebble casters. But right now he'd be happy to see one of those mumbling freaks. This wasn't what he did best -- running from someone, no matter how strategically sound.
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Willow had never felt so in control and yet at peace. This was her calling, her true talent and skill. She just knew it. It felt so right. She wondered if the magics had always been around her, inside her, just waiting for her to call on them.
The ceiling was approaching, and mentally she ordered their molecules just that fraction more, lowering their mass, just as their feet touched down.
She felt Faith begin to loosen her hand. "Not yet. Let's make our way to the edge," she suggested, nodding towards the far wall and the slightly wider supporting rim of the ceiling skeleton.
Faith nodded and reaffirmed her hold on Willow's hand. "You're the boss."
As they moved across the ceiling, a sudden shaft of light broke across their path as a portion of the far wall peeled away. Glancing towards the dockside end of the warehouse, they both froze, waiting for a movement, a noise but none came and glancing at each other, they moved forward again.
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The wrecking ball ripped into the side of the wall, this time separating the two sheets of steel that had recently been joined by rivets. As it continued its arc, it caught part of the interior wall and ceiling.
However, Giles had no idea of the damage his new best friend was causing. He was still sitting hunched like a naughty school boy with a huge grin of satisfaction and enjoyment plastered across his face.
Glancing to his left, he could see the top of Xander's machine as it once again accelerated towards the warehouse. He had little doubt that they were doing serious damage but he couldn't help a small moment of doubt. Were they truly causing the distraction Willow and Faith would need?
As if to answer his question, a hail of bullets winged their way over his head.
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As they made their way down the wall of the warehouse, the deafening thud of the wrecking ball and metal against metal echoed throughout the cavernous loft. Faith thought that she heard gun fire and, glancing behind her, she hoped that the guys outside were okay.
Yet again she thought she saw a glint of metal. 'What is that?'
The Wiccan hadn't released her hand yet and she was, therefore, leading her along the edge of the suspended ceiling like two children playing follow-the-leader, as they skipped over the intermittent joists of the suspended ceiling.
Willow suddenly slowed and crouched. Faith came to a halt behind her. "There," she gestured.
Faith followed her out stretched hand and forefinger ... it was a box, no a cage and there was something in it — Buffy! Glancing at Willow, she saw the look of concern and an eagerness that worried her.
"Buffy, I'm coming. Hold on," Willow whispered under her breath, forgetting that Faith was behind her.
"There's gotta to be a guard," Faith commented, unusual caution coming over her as she realized that this was it. Then she saw him. He was partially hidden by the cage but she could just about make him out ... and the large gun barrel was plain to see. "There ... to her right. And he has a gun."
Willow simply nodded and reached into the small bag around her waist. "I came prepared," she stated, drawing out a dark blue crystal.
As Faith glanced at the odd collection of items, anxiety and concern suddenly reared their heads as she began to doubt that they were all going to make it out of this alive. She trusted Willow but the truth was that despite everything, the Slayer in her trusted a good sharp knife more than the mojo.
"Can you grab hold of that support? I'm gonna try and split my concentration and I need you to make sure that if our mass shifts we don't sink through this ceiling," Willow advised her, as she placed the crystal between her lips and settled herself. She removed the dispelling pouch from about her neck and placed it over Faith's head. "Oder w-ys she h--e wo--nd ear m--i pro—pe—rl--y," she explained, her lips still holding the crystal firmly, its tip pressing down on the tip of her tongue.
Faith nodded, grinning at the sudden change in Willow's voice. She drew their still joined hands over the Wicca's head, placing her forearm firmly around her waist, in anticipation of a sudden change in their weight. "Okay. Ready."
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Relief washed over Buffy as she began to hear the familiar and now very welcome buzzing ... 'Willow. Oh thank goodness.' She'd actually feared they wouldn't let her know what was about to happen.
'—fy I c-n se- yo-. Oh go-d--s, wh-t ha-e -hey done t- yo-? I'm cl-se by. —f —ou can he-r me....... fo-get tha-, I kno- you can he-r me..........' Buffy heard, as the words began to clear. The sound of her dearest darling babbling was the most wonderful and welcome sound she could have ever imagined. She could feel tears beginning to well in the corners of her eyes, as the thought that she would soon be with her beloved swelled within her heart. 'I'm coming, my dar-ing. Bu- I nee- you to distract y-ur g-ard. Okay? I need yo- to dis-ra-t the g-ard.'
Buffy glanced over her left shoulder and, for the first time, she was finally able to actually catch a glimpse of her guard. 'You so don't know the world of pain that's coming your way,' she thought with satisfaction.
'We're going to shut off the lights in a bit,' Willow advised her.
'We?' She wondered who was with Willow.
'But the moonlight from the skylight means he might see us, so I need you to distract the guard. I will get you out of there,' Willow promised, just as a warm feeling seemed to envelope her.
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One final wiggle had allowed Buffy to see that her guard was holding his semi-automatic rifle and pointing it at her! No, he was looking past her, over her, out into the warehouse.
'He's waiting for something. Oh great, just great. He knows they're coming to get me. Anyone that tries to approach us is going to be filled full of lead.' She wracked her brain for something to do, some way of distracting him. She needed his attention on her, she needed him to ... 'Aw hell, since when has distracting a man been that hard?'
"Hey handsome," she yelled, in her best coy little girl voice. "Give me a break will 'ya? These bars are doing some serious damage to my arms ... legs ... my whole body."
But he simply looked at her, smiled and then looked away.
"Oh come on. I'm not asking you to release me. What harm would a little friendly massage do?" she tried, almost gagging on the words as they slipped from her lips.
Her guard huffed and smirked "Do I look that stupid? Shut it already."
Buffy bit back her initial response and continued in the most pleading and sexy tone she could manage. "Oh come on, what do you expect me to do — tied up like this. I really could do with a rubdown."
He regarded her with suspicion but she could see that glint of 'what the hell' forming in the corner of his eyes, as he slid them over her body. She had him and she knew it. Now she just needed to keep his focus on her. They'd be here soon.
Then she heard the clatter and stomping of feet. 'Willow! Oh, god! The lights! What about the lights?' Her mind raced, sure that the commotion she could hear was coming from her would-be rescuers. As if in agreement, her guard changed his posture, stepping back from her.
Suddenly they were thrown into darkness and the stomping feet halted. Buffy couldn't make out anything. It was as if she'd gone deaf. She turned her head vainly as if doing so would help her regain her senses. Something clicked to her left and her guard fired. She was so close that she heard and saw the barrel explosions, just feet from her, and the screams and whistles of bullets, as they flew out into the darkness.
"Willow! Nooooooo!" she screamed, just as she heard a body drop to the ground. But the firing didn't stop. An awful image of her beloved filled her mind; Willow lying on the ground, her hand still out stretched towards Buffy, an expanding red stain on her favorite green top and a clear glaze of surprise in her tearful eyes. She felt sick. "W-i-l-l-o-w?!!!?"
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Much Thanks to Lilly the treasure