Somewhere I Have Never Travelled; Book Two
by Kirayoshi
BAttlelines Being Drawn
[reviews]
Chapter 3
Battlelines Being Drawn
There's battlelines being drawn,
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong.
Young people speaking their minds,
Getting so much resistance from behind,
I think it's time we
STOP!
Children, what's that sound,
Everybody look what's going down."
--Buffalo Springfield
"For What It's Worth"
Willow found herself facing a sense of deja-vu as she headed up the steps to Giles'
townhouse. A few weeks ago, she and the rest of the Slayerettes gathered here to question
the new slayer, Sandra Ogawa. Later that evening, Angel had arrived to inform them that
Buffy was still alive, and trapped in the bowels of Hell.
Before that, the last time that the Scooby Gang met was under unpleasant circumstances.
They had gathered to deal with Adam, but the cyber-zombie's ally Spike had started
spreading wild rumors, innuendo and outright lies, in an effort to turn the Scoobies against
each other. He almost succeeded, nearly convincing Buffy that Willow was having an affair with Tara, while convincing Xander that Buffy and Willow had no room in their lives for him anymore. The shouting match between Buffy and Willow over Tara might have ended their newborn love for each other if Buffy hadn't mentioned that Spike was her source of 'information' regarding Tara. Once they realized that Spike was behind their argument, they had made up, in time for their final battle with Adam.
Where Oz had dealt the final betrayal, the one that had taken Buffy away from Willow for
over a year.
Pausing long enough to curse Oz's soul to Hell for eternity, Willow had cast those thoughts from her mind. She had Buffy again, and wore a ring on her finger to remind her of Buffy's love, and she had the love of her friends.
And her friends needed her now.
She felt a pang of guilt at lying to Buffy about the afternoon meeting. Buffy's memory still
hadn't returned, and Willow was getting concerned. She still didn't discuss any of the more esoteric facts of their life together, like Buffy being the Slayer, and Willow being a practicing wiccan, and a rather powerful one at that. After all, it was her faith in Buffy, her love for her slayer, that freed her from suspended animation while in Hell. A far cry from her pencil floating days.
But she still didn't know how to free Buffy's memories. And what she did remember didn't
make sense. Buffy told her about a sensual experience she had with Angel, recalling that it
happened less than a month before Buffy and Willow confessed their love for each other.
But Willow knew that Buffy and Angel consummated their star-crossed love only once,
during Buffy's junior year of high school. That terrible night when one moment of joy,
unmarred by guilt for his past sins, robbed Angel of his soul.
And the dreams that she and Buffy were apparently sharing, they made even less sense.
Why would Buffy remember living in the 16-hundreds? Why would Willow? If the dream
weren't so clear in Willow's mind, even after waking, she wouldn't be worried. But she could still recall the sour-faced priest condemning her soul for blasphemy, she could still feel the coarse rope binding her hands, the noose around her neck, the sickening sensation of the noose being pulled, of her body being wrenched off the ground, of her breath being strangled out of her.
That's why she decided to meet Giles a few minutes before the rest of the Scoobs arrived.
She needed answers, for her sake and for the sake of the woman whom she planned to
marry.
She swallowed hard, as she knocked on the front door. A few seconds later, Giles opened
the door. "Willow," he greeted her with a warm smile. "I wasn't expecting you here for a
few minutes yet."
"Yeah, sorry Giles," Willow answered hastily, as Giles ushered her in. "But there's some
developments on the Buffy front I thought you should know. Privately."
"I understand," Giles nodded. "And please, no need to apologize. Is her memory returning?"
"Uh, I'm not sure," Willow hedged. "She's remembering stuff that she shouldn't. And so am I."
Giles pursed his lips in thought and said, "Perhaps you had better sit down and collect
yourself. I had just put the kettle on. Would you care for some tea?"
"You have any chamomile?" Willow asked. Giles left for the kitchen, and Willow took what
had become her usual seat on the sofa when the Scooby Gang met at Giles' house. A minute later, Willow heard a brief whistle, and shortly after that, Giles entered the living room with two cups of tea. He handed one to Willow, who accepted with thanks. As he sat in his favorite chair with his Earl Gray, he said, "Now then, Willow. Perhaps you can explain what you and Buffy are remembering."
"Well," Willow started, "we've had these weird dreams. At first I thought it was just me, but from what Buffy said last night, we've both had them." She gazed in rapt attention at her teacup as she recalled what happened. "Actually, first it was Buffy. When she got back from the hospital, we were having ice cream, and, well, she remembered a night she had with Angel. Only she didn't have it."
"Let me guess," a dark, quiet voice issued from the stairwell. "Crunchy peanut butter and
cookie-dough chocolate mint chip ice cream."
Willow snapped her head toward the voice, and gawked. "Angel! What are you doing
here?"
"I came here last night when Giles had received a call from Wesley. I stayed overnight in the spare room." Angel walked down the stairs with his usual coiled grace. In response to
Willow's concerned look, Angel added, "Don't worry, I'm fine as long as I keep out of direct sunlight." He took a place near the couch, crouching lightly. "Oh, before I forget,
congratulations. I saw the ring from over here."
"Ring?" Giles asked suddenly, looking at Willow, as she self-consciously displayed her
engagement ring. "Did Buffy--" Giles started, only to see Willow nod vigorously, grinning
broadly. "Well, congratulations indeed." He raised his tea cup, saying, "To Buffy and
Willow."
Angel nodded in agreement, adding, "Keep her happy, Willow."
"Thanks, Angel, Giles," Willow blushed. "But getting back on topic, how did you know
about the peanut butter and ice cream?"
"That night did happen, after a fashion," Angel said. "When Buffy confronted me in L. A.
over my stalking her over Thanksgiving, we found ourselves fighting a demon. He cut me
with his sword, then his blood got into my wound. His blood made me mortal, and Buffy and I--" he stalled as Willow turned her head. "I'm sorry, Willow."
"Don't be," Willow said simply. "That was before we got together. But why didn't she talk
about this before? And if you were mortal, how come you're still a vamp?"
"The Oracles told me that if I remained mortal, Buffy would die. So I gave up my humanity to save her. The only way for me to do that was for the Oracles to turn back time so that the day I was mortal would never happen. I would remember it, but no one else would. Buffy tried to remember that time, but once the day was repeated, it was lost to her." Angel sighed. "Until now, I guess."
"Whoa," Willow muttered. "I guess. Must have been the ice cream. But she still doesn't
remember you being a vampire, or anything Slayer-ish. But she had a weird-ass dream last
night. And I think I had the same dream, or at least a matching dream from my perspective. Y'see, it was 1665, and I was a woman named Charity Weber, and Buffy said that in her dream she was Patience Jones--"
"And she was being hauled back to England to be judged, and ultimately hung, by the
Watcher's Council," Giles intoned solemnly.
Angel and Willow looked at Giles in shock. Willow had to ask, "You didn't have the same
dream, did you?"
"No, Willow," he answered darkly, "but I am aware of the details." He pulled off his glasses and wiped them with a tissue, before launching into full Watcher mode; "Patience Jones was the Slayer of her generation. And by all accounts she was an effective Slayer, having defended her colony in Salem, Massachusetts from vampires. But she was a rebel, as Slayers often are. Unconventional, outspoken. And at that time, Slayers were made into
indentured servants of their Watchers, to explain their relationship away from prying eyes.
When Patience became involved with a young girl named Charity Weber, the townspeople
saw their 'unnatural closeness' as a sign of the Devil in their midst.
"The town leaders leveled trumped-up charges of witchcraft, lead by Patience's Watcher.
He arraigned for her to be taken to England, where she would answer to the Council for her 'unholy' acts and was ultimately hung on Council's orders, while Charity herself was hung for witchcraft. A charge that has never been proven, I might add."
"I think she was," Willow said suddenly. "At least in my dream, I knew that I was a witch. I think I, I mean Charity, got off a couple of good curses before she was hung."
Giles nodded understandingly. "That seems to confirm what Denise had shown me regarding Watcher's history. She showed me a forgotten text that was once of great importance to the Council, a text that indicates that the Slayer must join with a mage if she is to be powerful enough to take on the evils she is destined to face. Buffy has clearly done so with you, however the Council had long ago suppressed this knowledge. Later tonight when Denise is here, we can go over the details."
"I look forward to that," Willow agreed, just as a knock was heard at the door.
Giles, putting the matter of Willow's dreams behind him for now, greeted Xander and
Cordelia as they entered his house, with Tara, Sandra Ogawa and Denise Parkinson right
behind them. Xander nodded to Angel, who acknowledged his presence and said no more.
Cordy hugged her former boss, who smiled at her. "So, you two are making it legal?" Angel asked Cordy.
"Yeah," she answered smiling, as Xander placed a protective arm on her shoulder. "We're
talking about having a night ceremony. That way, you can give me away."
"I'd be honored," Angel smiled. Xander said nothing, knowing that it was the bride-to-be's
place to make the arrangements for the ceremony, and finally accepting that Angel was not
the enemy. Now that he wasn't in danger of ever losing his soul again, it was easier for the
rest of the Scoobs to distinguish between their friend Angel and the demon Angelus.
The others had taken their seats, and Willow noted with amused interest that Tara and
Sandra sat together on the couch next to her, holding hands. Another Slayer/Wiccan match, Willow thought, smiling. They'll need to look at Denise's book later also.
Giles, always the proper host, emerged from the kitchen with a tray containing several
teacups, a teapot, and a stash of teabags. He placed the tray on the coffee table and
permitted his guests to help themselves. Before anyone could pour themselves any tea, the
teapot lifted itself off the tray, and started to pour its contents into each cup. Teabags
emerged from their box and dropped, one into each cup. The cups then levitated one at a
time to each guest, Cordelia's first.
As the others watched this phenomenon with slack jaws, Angel and Cordy took it in stride. "Looks like your friend came along for the ride," Angel offered.
"Thanks, Dennis," Cordy said as she accepted her teacup. To the others, she announced,
"Guys, this is Phantom Dennis, he's a ghost. I met him in L. A., he was haunting my
apartment. He's a nice guy once you get to know him."
Xander looked at the teacup in Cordy's hand. "Ooh-kay, as long as he knows that we're
getting married."
Another cup floated in front of him, and Cordy said, "Don't worry, Xander, he likes you.
And he won't play voyeur, will you, Dennis?"
Xander took the cup and said, "He'd better, I know Peter Venkman's home phone number." Cordy just snickered at the reference.
"Now then," Giles said as the last of the tea was distributed by Cordy's ghostly friend, "we
have some matters to discuss. First item of business, the sighting of this Mister Beltaine.
Xander, Cordelia, the two of you were the only people to have any contact with him, what
can you tell me?"
"Only what he told us," Xander said. "He said he was a vampire, that he had a soul, and that he needed to talk to you, G-Man. He said that he'd contact you when he needed to."
"Yeah, he knew your name, Giles," Cordy added. "He said something about a great power
afoot. Hmph, pretentious much?"
"Hmm, Denise," Giles asked his fellow Watcher. "Do you know of any vampires named
Beltaine?"
"Nothing that rings a bell," Denise admitted. "If he really is a vampire and not a pretender, it sounds like he's an older vampire, in full control of his nature."
"Interesting name though," Tara added. "Beltaine is the feast of Spring, the vernal equinox, in most pagan traditions. The maypole comes from that tradition."
"You want me to play Research Girl later?" Willow offered.
"If you wish," Giles answered. "I suspect that we won't find much about him. He said he
would contact me. I will wait until then." The others nodded in agreement.
"Now then," Giles added, "Item two. A new band of vampires have come to Sunnydale.
What did they call themselves, Hell's Ladies?"
"Hell's Belles," Sandra corrected. "They looked like extras from 'Grease'. And they have the advantage of speed. They ride Harleys. Tara and I ran into them last night, but before I
could dust their leader, Rizzo, another vamp threatened Tara. She then left with the bikers. Her name was Darla, I think."
"Darla?" Xander groaned, a sentiment that was shared by the veteran Slayerettes. "I could
have happily lived my life without ever hearing that name again."
"Yeah," Willow added. "I could've sworn she was an affirmative in the 'Slain' column."
"You can thank Lindsay and the senior execs at Wolfram and Hart for resurrecting her,"
Cordy groaned. "They brought her back in an effort to take down Angel over a year ago.
She then struck out on her own. But why would she hook up with these Happy Days
fugitives?"
"Perhaps she's building an army," Tara suggested. "Kinda like what Adam was doing with
the demons captured by the Initiative."
"Possibly," Denise commented. "I would suggest extra caution in future patrols. Giles, I
would appreciate any information you have on this Darla. I take it you faced her before."
"We have," Angel nodded grimly. "She was my sire. I can give you more details later."
After Sandra and Denise agreed to meet with Angel later, Giles continued. "Next, item three; I have some distressing news to report. Last night, I was informed by Wesley Whyndam-Price of the apparent death of Faith in a prison attack."
"Uh, wait," Willow asked, "what do you mean 'apparent'?"
"I was in touch with Wesley this morning, just before sunrise," Angel answered. "Her body was never found. And word on the street is that a gang of vampires has become quite powerful among the inmates." He left his statement hanging intentionally, as the implications became clear.
After a few seconds of startled silence, Xander was the first to speak; "So what you're
saying, Angel, is that La Slayer Loca is a vamp, and out of stir?" Angel nodded. "I gotta tell ya, D.B., I've gone to bed with nicer thoughts."
"Don't worry, Xander," Cordy cuddled up to her fiancee. "I'll give you something nice to go to bed with."
"You're loaning me your teddy bear?" Xander quipped, only to be playfully slapped by
Cordy.
"Please, if we could control our hormones until we get home," Giles admonished the young lovers. "Sandra, Tara, if Faith is indeed a vampire, and if she is on her way to Sunnydale, I would advise you to be especially cautious. She was dangerous as a Slayer, there's no telling how powerful she is now that she's a vampire. Especially without a soul to hinder her."
"Yeah," Willow groaned. "Like having a soul made any difference to her." She still harbored memories of the last time she was alone with Faith. At the time, Faith had used a spell to forcibly swap bodies with Buffy. Faith, in Buffy's body, then visited Willow and proceeded to take her to bed. Willow, sensing nothing amiss at first, returned 'Buffy's' affections, only to have her lover take her roughly, savagely. Willow had tried to control the direction of their lovemaking, but 'Buffy' was not to be denied. It was only after the fact, when Willow lay sprawled and bruised on her bed, with the real Buffy gently rubbing salve onto her aches, when Willow realized how she had been used by Faith.
Buffy assured her that she didn't blame Willow for what had happened. But Willow still
blamed herself. She felt guilty for not seeing how Buffy's soul had been fragmented, ripped
out of her body. And with Oz's return, followed by Spike's efforts to drive the gang against each other, it was a miracle that their love survived. And now, despite Oz's betrayal, Willow had her beloved back. And she vowed never to lose her again.
"What this all boils down to, guys," Xander suggested, "is that we need Buffy back. Stat."
His words were met by general agreement from the others.
"You are quite right, Xander," Giles reluctantly admitted. "Willow, I want you to watch over her the next day or so. If her memory shows no sign of recovering, I want you to bring her to me. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this. I hate to rob the two of you of a hard-earned peace, but we need her."
"I understand," Willow said solemnly. "I think those dreams we've been having are a sign of her trying to remember."
"Possibly. We'll know soon enough. Oh, and finally, for those who haven't heard,
congratulations are in order for Willow and Buffy, as well as Xander and Cordelia. Both
couples, it seems, are to be married." Denise, Sandra and Tara cheered the happy couples,
while Angel smiled quietly from his perch.
"Congratulations, Willow," Tara embraced her friend. "I hope you both are very happy
together."
"Thanks," Willow smiled at Tara. She knew that Tara was once attracted to her, but had
accepted that Buffy alone held the key to Willow's happiness. And now, Willow observed,
Tara seemed to find some happiness with the new Slayer, Sandra. "Same for the two of
you."
The meeting died down from there, as Xander left for the precinct house to start his beat,
Sandra prepared to begin her patrol, and the others left for their various errands. All knew
the same secret.
There was a darkness on the horizon. And there was no certainty of how it would end.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Three vampires waited in an abandoned garage for their leader. Rizzo was replacing some
worn parts on her Harley-Davison, while Frenchie snapped her gum and Leather simply laid back on a tattered sofa. "So, when's our new leader going to show?" Frenchie asked Rizzo.
"When she shows, all right?" Rizzo went back to her repair work. "So far, she's done right
by us. And she's got something big planned for this burg. I say we tag along and see what's
happening."
"A wise decision, my dear," a honeyed voice echoed through the warehouse. A tall blond
vampire emerged from the shadows, as Rizzo put down her wrench and sat up, paying
attention to the older vampire's words.
"In this town, we are now the hunted," Darla explained. "The Slayer and those who follow
her, they will not rest until we are impaled on their stakes. That is not right. We are the
predators, they are the prey. That is why I have come here. To restore the natural order.
Soon, we will bring forth an ally, a being of such power that none can withstand her. Soon, Lady Bathory will lead us to our final victory against the Slayer, and this world will be ours. Can I count on your support, my friends?"
"Hey," Leather grunted from her seat, "if it means more blood for us, you got it." Frenchie
and Rizzo nodded in agreement. Darla smiled at her new lieutenants. This army would soon be joined by others, and soon the Slayer would be eliminated.
She didn't notice a dark haired woman in the rafters high above her. The dark woman sat
quietly, and heard and saw all. She made her way to the skylight overhead, and scooted up
without being noticed by the vampire gang.
The interloper jumped from the roof of the warehouse, and swiftly headed toward Wetherly Park. As she headed for the park, she pulled out a cell phone, and dialed a private number. She heard a ring, then a rich baritone voice. "Report, Faith."
"Mr. B." Faith answered. "Darla's taken over the Hell's Belles. She said something about
Bathory, whoever she is. Some kind of summoning."
"Damn," Mr. Beltaine muttered. "They're on the move. Tomorrow night, we must contact
Giles. And pray that Buffy Summers can help us."
"Yeah, like B will be falling over herself to help the chick who screwed her girlfriend," Faith said ruefully. "She and Red will be playing 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' to decide who stakes me."
"You will be safe, I assure you. I will be with you, and they will understand the truth. Meet Spike and me at the residence. You can brief us more fully there. Beltaine out." The
connection was cut. Faith puffed a sigh, and headed out for Mr. Beltaine's place.
She would have to confront Buffy Summers soon. She hoped that Buffy would listen to her first. She wasn't the same person she was before.
Not since she was turned. And certainly not since Mr. Beltaine's magicks bonded her soul to her. She had a second chance, to undue the damage she had done in life.
Yeah, like B would believe that, she thought as she disappeared into the night.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
London, England; 1889
"Mina, my beloved," Elisabeth Somerset demanded of her companion "Is there one man in
Scotland Yard who is not a complete fool?"
"I do not know, dearest Betsy," the young redhead next to her answered. Wilhemina Rose
seemed an incongruous match with the outspoken suffragette, especially in her dresses and
petticoats, where Elisabeth dressed like a man. Her dress, coupled with her political opinions and her assertive manner, ultimately led to her parents disinheriting her and casting her out of their house forever, but she didn't mind. Not so long as she had her mission as the Slayer to occupy her, the support of her Watcher and the love and companionship of her love, Mina.
"They are all idiots!" Betsy continued her tirade against the London constabulary. "They
think this 'Jack the Ripper' is some kind of common killer, but we both know better. He's an inhuman monster, a nosferatu. A vampire."
"And do you really believe the officers of Scotland Yard to accept such a supernatural
explanation? Dr. Doyle had tried to explain this reality to them, but they refused to hear."
"Indeed," Betsy fumed. "Or they simply decided that the prostitutes of Whitechapel weren't worth the effort to defend."
"If he is such a beast as you say," Mina assured her lover, "then we will end his evil together. It is your calling, isn't it? Just as it is my place to fight beside you."
"You are a tonic to me, Mina," Betsy smiled at the young mage. "Tonight, at Whitechapel, he will strike. We will patrol there, and then, we will put him down like the rabid dog he is."
The patrol went by silently, as the two young women sought any sign of the vile monster who had preyed on the unfortunate women of Whitechapel. Mina Rose nervously stayed close to her love's side, at one point asking, "Are you certain it is a vampire? Why would he use a blade instead of his fangs?"
"Because the blade would be explained away as the actions of a deranged mind," Betsy
explained patiently, "while two puncture marks on the neck would lead to more suspicions. It is like our Watcher said; 'When you have eliminated the obvious...',"
"'Whatever remains, however improbable'," Mina finished the oft-quoted words, "'Must be
the truth'. Very well, Betsy. But I do hope we can get away from this god-awful night air
soon. I could murder for someone to draw a nice hot bath."
"I will gladly volunteer for that pleasant duty," Betsy announced, "provided you will let me join you."
"Naturally," the young witch dimpled. Their banter was interrupted by a crash of splintered
wood as an inhumanly strong figure broke through the door beside them.
"Oh, no, my little pretties," the monster exclaimed through wickedly pointed teeth. "I'll be
doing the bathing tonight, Slayer. In your blood!"
"So, Ripper," Betsy stood her ground, as the vampire stalked toward them. "Not a bad
scam you're running here. Slaughter young women, drain their blood, and then slash them
with your knife to hide evidence of vampire attack!"
"Those whores won't be missed, Slayer," the beast mocked her, as he lunged toward her.
"And neither will a pair of lesbians like yourselves!"
"Keep your disgusting hands off of Betsy!" Mina shouted as she tossed a small bag of herbs at the vampire. The twice-blessed herbs had been treated with Holy Water, and when they landed on the vampire's face, they burned like acid.
The beast screamed, the pain only making it madder. "You whore!" he shouted. He raked
her face, his fingers as claws, knocking her down hard against the cold cobblestones.
Betsy, enraged at how the Ripper had assaulted her Mina, launched herself at the vampire.
"You will not raise a hand against another helpless woman again!" she shouted, as her fists
struck the vampire in a rapid flurry of punches.
If her attack had harmed her opponent, he didn't show it. He grabbed her wrist and twisted
it hard, breaking her arm. "Sorry, peaches," he smiled ferally, "but I win this bout. You're
not the first Slayer I've taken out. And you won't be the last." As he lowered his mouth to
the helpless woman's neck, he added, "And when you and your little sapphic whore meet
Lucifer, tell him William the Bloody sent you!"
Those were the last words Betsy Somerset heard as her world plunged into a final blackness.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Buffy bolted up from her slumber, her hair matted against her head, her heart beating like a Ginger Baker drum solo. Her breath came in deep gasps, as the sensation of being murdered by that unholy creature replayed in her mind. She knew in her mind and heart that such a creature shouldn't, couldn't exist.
But at the same time, she knew that vampires were real. And that she had faced them.
"Buffy?" a worried voice whispered behind her. She felt Willow's arms around her shoulders, and sensed the tension in her lover's muscles. "Another nightmare?"
"Oh God, Willow," Buffy sobbed into tears in Willow's arms. "It was terrible, I saw you, you were being attacked by a vampire! He killed me! Oh, Willow, what's happening to me?"
"Shh, shh," Willow soothed, stroking Buffy's hair. "It's okay, sweetie. I'm here. Jack the
Ripper's not gonna get to you."
"It seemed so real, though, Wills," Buffy lamented. "I could smell the streets, I could feel his fangs on my neck, I--" she stopped and held Willow at arms length. A puzzled expression crossed her face. "You said 'Jack the Ripper'. But I never mentioned him. How did you know?"
Willow turned away from Buffy, but Buffy drew her face back to hers with a firm hand.
"What's happening, Wills?"
"Buffy," Willow choked on the words. "I've been having the same dreams as you. First, I
dreamed that I was a priestess in Egypt, then I was a puritan in Salem, and tonight, I
dreamed of Jack the Ripper."
Buffy looked at her fiancee, amazed. She swallowed hard, and asked the one question she
dreaded to ask; "What the hell am I?"
Willow stared intently into Buffy's smoky blue eyes, and answered. "You're the Slayer. I
don't know if I can say anything that will make any sense. I'm sorry."
"No, Wills," Buffy held her tightly. "Don't ever be sorry. I know. I know I'm a Slayer, I just don't understand what that means. I know I've lived a tough life. And I wish I could explain it any better, but I sense that I've lived all these lives I've been dreaming about before. And in each life, there was you."
"Yeah," Willow answered, wiping her eyes with the corner of their comforter. "I feel that too. Don't ask me how, but I know it's right."
Buffy looked back into the face she loved so much, and asked, "What are we gonna do?"
"Shush, Buffy," Willow said softly, encouraging her love to lie down in her arms. "We'll see Giles tomorrow. He'll help you find out what you are. What we are."
"Okay, Wills," Buffy tried to smile for Willow's benefit. "Love you."
"Love you too," Willow whispered, as she could feel her lover go back to sleep in her arms. She hoped that this would be the last night that she and Buffy would have these nightmares.
But between Faith and Darla, she sensed that the nightmares were just beginning.