"Oz, please, don't go."

"Willow..."

The young witch raised pleading, moist eyes towards her lover, holding onto his hand like she was drowning - shaking.

"There must be another way. I could try a locating spell, I'm sure..."

"Willow."

This time she quieted and Oz wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hair softly.

They had retreated to Angel's bedroom to say their good-byes, but they didn't have much time. And Oz didn't want to spend it arguing with Willow.

"We don't have time to devise such a spell. Morghane needs us now."

"You just came back to me..."

"I'll come back again. Angel won't let me do more than lead them to Lisandra's lair. But I'm the only one who can track her down."

Willow's embrace became crushing.

"I'm scared."

"I know, baby. It's gonna be okay."

A tear hiked down Willow's pale cheek and Oz' heart tightened in his chest. He couldn't bear to see Willow so afraid.

But he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Morghane alone in Lisandra's clutches either. He had abandoned her once already.

Never again.

 

 

 

"Nice contraptions you have here," murmured Buffy.

She was sitting on Angel's desk in the study. The vampire was busy strapping some weird-looking sheaths to the inside of his forearms - from what she could see, some kind of automatic stake-throwing devices. He had hidden more stakes in the folds of his coat and in his leather boots.

Spike sat in a corner of the room, wrapped in darkness - only the amber glow of his cigarette betrayed his presence. He was uncharacteristically quiet.

She wondered about the blonde vampire's constant shadowing of Angel. Whatever the consequences of the gais, it had strengthened - or was it revived? - the bond between Sire and Childe. Was it because Spike was now able to empathize with Angel in a way he had never been able to since his Sire had been cursed? Or had Morghane's binding spell merely revealed some deeper relationship that had always been there?

By now, Buffy was well acquainted with the inner workings of the vampire underworld. She knew the difference between Childe and fledgling and she understood that the status of Childe wasn't granted lightly.

Spike and Angel had a history. All kinds of histories. Dru's presence had torn them apart after Angelus' restoration but she had the feeling that Spike had been as wounded by his Sire's degrading treatment of him than by Drusilla's infidelity.

In the last few days, Buffy had had many opportunities to observe Spike's increasing possessiveness of Angel.

And the reverse was, to a certain extent, true. The older vampire treated his Childe with care and concern. Despite the dreadful circumstances, Angel even seemed lighter for Spike's presence. Spike was someone who understood. Who Angel could relate to and who could relate to him. The dark-haired vampire needed that, and he certainly deserved a companion - someone who would alleviate his immutable, constant loneliness.

Buffy's presence granted him a reprieve. Contentment, if not happiness. But the curse was still there - like a starving, slavering beast between them. Rearing its ugly head each time they got too close. Snarling at them.

There was none of that with Spike. The curse wasn't an issue between them, and Angel acted so much more confidently around his Childe.

Buffy wondered if what she felt were the first stirrings of jealousy.

Angel and Spike had been lovers - before the curse. You had to be blind not to realize that after observing their interactions for five minutes in a row.

She didn't think Angel would ever invite Spike in his bed again.

He loved her. He was nothing if not loyal - and certainly, for all his vampiric status, he was one of the most decent persons she had ever met. But Spike touched something in Angel that she could never hope to reach. At least not yet. The weight of a century of shared experience. An acknowledgment and acceptance of his nature that could only come from one of his own.

She couldn't fight that.

And maybe she shouldn't. Maybe she was going about this all wrong.

Look at herself. She cherished Angel beyond all reason. Yet she had Giles, Willow and Xander. Each of them had access to parts of her that she did not necessarily share with her lover. If only because they never interacted in the light of day. It didn't mean that, if they ever found a way to live together, they wouldn't share everything.

It was just a question of time.

Except that, in the last few days, time had become a real luxury item.

Right now she was trying not to drown in her own fear - and not quite succeeding.

"I'm going with you."

Angel stopped working on his little gadgets and fixed darkened eyes on her.

He enunciated each word carefully.

"Out of the question."

Buffy jumped on her feet, full of nervous energy.

Spike kept on smoking - having wisely chosen to keep out of that particular conversation.

"Look," said the Slayer, as if she was talking to a slow child, "I won't go with you inside the lair. I'll just escort you through the sewers."

"Buffy..."

"And someone has to make sure that Oz makes it back here unscathed to give us the location of the lair." She smiled thinly, resting her case. "What good will this little expedition do if he gets trapped with you guys and we can't find you once we discover the counterspell? We'll be back to square one." She paused. "In fact, we'll be back to whatever comes before square one because Lisandra will have four hostages rather than one."

She refused to linger on the frightening mental pictures that thought brought up. She could just imagine the kind of torments Lisandra had in store for Angel if she ever got her little psychopathic hands on him.

"You guys try to get Morghane out of there. We'll wait for you. If we don't see you coming back..." Her throat closed up but she fought the feeling down. "If it looks like you're trapped in the lair, we'll go back to Giles and gather reinforcements."

Angel sighed. He opened his mouth to formulate an objection but nothing came to him.

Buffy grinned. She could read on his face that he had already given in. He wasn't the only one who could play stubborn - and there was no swaying a Slayer away from her course of action when her mind was made.

"Okay. But whatever happens, you stay back, Buffy. Promise me. Or Spike and I will take you down, tie you up and stuff you in a closet, okay?"

"Kinky..." came an amused voice from the dark corner. "I'm all for it."

Angel sent a warning glare to his Childe.

Spike made the gesture to seal his own lips.

"Okay. I promise."

Angel nodded slowly. Unhappy, but resigned.

"Let's go then. No need to waste any-more time. You're armed?"

Buffy whipped out Mister Pointy. Spike had returned her lucky stake with an amused smirk after getting back from Sunnydale.

"Ready and willing."

Angel and Buffy turned simultaneously towards a leering Spike.

"Not a word, blondie."