Previously on The Vampire/Slayer Archives: Our heroes have been fighting an archdemon named Belial and his minions. While fighting Belial's siege on Slayer Central, Willow almost lost herself to the magic and had to flee to an alternate dimension before she became a danger to anyone else. Buffy tried to call all the slayers back to headquarters, but fell victim to a trap foreseen by Spike in a vision and set by the slayer-eater Carnivora, who may be working for Belial. Spike and Xander set off to save her from certain torture and death, but could not reach Buffy on their own, because Carnivora controlled a cult of powerful sorcerers. Angel stayed behind, keeper of Micheal's Aegis, the only artifact protecting Slayer Central and all its inhabitants from Belial's evil influence. Out of concern for his lover, Spike, Angel left the Aegis behind as he went to help with Buffy's rescue mission, bearing incredible pain as the Aegis tore at his soul to feed its protective power. The two vampires, along with Xander, managed to free Buffy and many of the other slayers Carnivora had captured, helping Buffy attack the demon that caught her. The head slayer managed to injure Carnivora, but he teleported away before any of our heroes could finish him off. The demon's whereabouts remain a mystery.

Summary: Angel, Spike and Buffy's people deal with the aftermath of recent attacks, breakdowns, and conundrums. Features our three heroes as well as Willow, Xander, and Fred. Features Angel/Spike/Buffy, Willow confused, Fred doing physics, and Xander trying to hold it all together. Hopefully not too dark.

Sanctuary

Chapter 1 - Paradox

You are here for a simple reason. Pride. The original mortal sin. Downfall of many a king and deity. You've always had a preponderance of this simple and yet complex idea.

When you were small, you didn't understand the others. Why couldn't they learn? You would ask yourself. Why did they refuse to understand the teachers' lessons? Why couldn't they understand when you spoke? Why were they so stubborn?

The pride, the contempt, began when you realized that they truly didn't understand, when you realized that they were actually that much stupider than you. Their brains worked normally, and yours was the odd one out. You had a hard time, and it took years upon years, learning how to deal with the simple fact that others did not think the same way you did. And that was your thing. You were the smart one. You had the answers, which would jump into your brain like magic, and all the other kids hated you for it. But, you were smart enough to realize that they were actually jealous. And you were better than them. On every test, standardized or otherwise, you got the highest score. You were the intellectual big fish in the little pond.

And it made you proud.

Your parents were never happy with your progress, were they? Demanding more and more from you? You see, they were just as smart as you, which meant you could still disappoint them by getting bored, slacking off, and missing just one question on a test. You should have known those answers. You could have known them, but you'd never had to work hard for anything in your entire life. You were spoiled by the very mind you were so proud of.

It taught you that all the answers could be easy, and magic was just another tool you could use to get these answers, the same as a ruler, or a calculator, or a book. Using magic was easy. Giving it up was hard. And you were proud of yourself, thought yourself stalwart and brave. You thought you could handle it.

You've never done anything difficult, have you, Willow? Not like this. No, I know what you're going to say and yes you fought, but you didn't have the same fire of spirit and heart like Buffy or Xander. You had your brain and your rationalizations, your uncanny luck. And pride.

You were so proud, you never noticed it in yourself. You knew the other kids hated a know-it-all unless you helped them succeed, so you learned quickly how to appear meek. You learned how to be insulted, and you learned how to cry. You learned when to shut your mouth and you learned to want to help others. You learned how to be less despised by your peers. You taught yourself you weren't proud.

But you are.

And that's why you're here, seeking out my help, little one. You need to be reeducated. You need to shed your pride like a snake sheds its old skin, so you can grow into what you need to become. The metaphysical pathways through your mind are too vast to be dammed or stoppered. Either you will learn how to be humble, or the magic will destroy you, witch.

Do you understand?

Can I just say I hate alternate dimensions? I've been to a few, and while some are fun, or scary, or just plain lacking shrimp, I just can't stand the ones that I can't wrap my brain around. Like this one. Verigard's home dimension shone like glitter in my mind's eye, and yet was dark to my physical eyes. It was loud and silent, chaotic and still, warm and cold, soft and hard, filled with oxygen and suffocating. Fred and Illyria loved it.

Of course, they didn't have an all-powerful being playing a round of "This is Your Life" with all their least-attractive qualities and decisions. Here they were united and separate at the same time, speaking to each other face to face from the same body, and having a grand old time of it. Fred showed Illyria what emotions looked like, and Illyria taught Fred how to listen to the currents of magic flowing quickly and without motion through Verigard's home. She taught Fred how to speak to the being in his own language of silence and sound. Fred taught Illyria how to solve complex mathematical formulas, and then how to apply those formulas to everything and nothing there. They delighted in the paradoxical nature of that dimension over and over again.

I spent an eternity in hell.

"You must not … fight … the paradox, Willow," Verigard told me in its halting, loud-and-mute(?) voice, approximating English as best it could. I could tell there were so many other lessons it wanted to teach me, but it didn't have the words. Or I didn't have them. Something was missing.

"The … magic is not yours, little one," it said at some point, I couldn't tell when. I was hungry and sated all the time, exhausted and brimming with energy. I couldn't tell the days apart, if there were even days to count. Time stretched on forever and I was always confused, which made me frustrated and then made me angry.

Emotions escaped Verigard like odors on the air and like disconcerting vacuums of space. Hope, fear, comfort, anger, happiness, and pain. I thought it might be trying to teach me using them, but everything there was so alien, I couldn't understand.

Until I dreamed. In my dream, Verigard had solid form, and he was male. He was beautiful and horrible, but he had one voice and one face and one body. There were no spaces of nothing that were also him. There were no disembodied words and silences. There were no emotions, no smells. Only a visual presence, which resembled somebody I thought I should be able to recognize with his dark hair and his bright eyes and his wrinkles and his pot belly. And a dark voice, telling me that I had to let go of my pride. You, you, you. Always saying, "you," as if to distinguish me from him. "This is your problem, Willow," he would whisper as I dreamed and forgot for a moment that I was also awake. "Without pride, you will not be angry, you will not be frustrated, and you will not be confused. You have to let go, Willow. Let go."

I couldn't let go, because I still couldn't understand how. How do you let go, how do you rid yourself of pride, when you can't find it in yourself? How could I even be sure Verigard was trying to help, when everything he told me outside the dream felt like everlasting truth and a slimy lie?

Humans weren't supposed to exist here. Our eyes didn't work, our senses couldn't function, our brains broke and shuddered under the strain. And yet Fred was happy. But she had Illyria, who remembered what it was like existing this way, who knew how to deal with it.

Unfair. It felt unfair and completely upside-down, even though Fred said, "There's a delightful lack of gravity in this dimension!" and yet stood solidly next to me as I waited for Verigard to return so it could leave and conduct its other business.

It wanted me to learn humility and how to be humble. Well, throwing me into this dimension was a good start. Verigard said that I'd been able to understand anything I came across my whole life, and it had been right. Until now. I didn't understand. I couldn't understand. And yet I couldn't escape until I learned how to understand. Verigard didn't even give me the option to quit and leave, saying, "Your pride … Willow … cannot be unleashed … again. Outside this non-place … you will continue … to destroy without creation. You will create without destruction. Your world will become unstable."

"Has this ever happened before?" I tried to ask it, but Verigard didn't seem to understand me until we were dreaming.

"The human soul has always been prideful, and yet self-destructive. Most have destroyed themselves before being able to host as much energy as you are able. Though, this has occurred a few times since the beginning. I brought all of them here."

"Did any of them get to go back home?"

"One," he said, "and several. I'm no good with linear time, Willow. I don't know which one you are in the history."

"Wait!" I cried, catching his arm in my hand (both blissfully solid) and asking Verigard, "Does that mean I am going to be able to go home?"

"That," he smirked, an expression oddly similar to Xander's, and yet perfectly natural on his face, "would be telling, young lady."

"What about Fred? Can she go back, even if I fail?"

"She can go whenever she would like," he insisted. "Her demon's memory will not allow the magics she controls to overtake her. Illyria knows, better than anyone, where pride gets you."

"How long have we been here? How long will she wait for me?"

"I told you I was no good with linear time," Verigard sighed, rubbing his rheumy eyes. "I think you've been here either three days, or three years. Some multiple of three."

"I've only been here three days?" I asked in surprise. "Or three years? It's felt like eons!"

"Fred should be able to calculate it for you," he shrugged, disappearing from my dream and speaking to my awake-self. "Her math … astounds."

When I found Fred, floating and walking towards her and Illyria, who were really one person, I asked her about it and she replied, "Not quite four days!" with a bright, nose-scrunching smile that I could feel but not see. "Isn't it cool how it feels like longer?"

"Yeah," I muttered and screamed. "Cool."

"You love me," I told Spike when I found him flossing his teeth in our bathroom. He'd showered twice and brushed his teeth three times, and now he was flossing, all to get the feel of that dungeon off his skin. Buffy was no better, wanting me to wait outside her bathroom and keep talking to her as she did something similar – washing everything away under a stream of water I could swear was too warm. Scalding, if the feel of her afterward was any indication. I left her in Dawn's capable hands and went back to my boyfriend, telling him as soon as I saw him, "You love me."

Quirking an eyebrow at me, Spike grunted, "Eeyah," with his mouth open. I took it for a yes.

Stepping closer carefully, I continued, "No, I mean … you really, really love me. All those things you said…"

After looking away and taking the floss from his mouth, Spike said, "Sort of wish I hadn't, luv."

"I'm glad you did," I insisted, taking another step so I could touch him, because not touching him seemed so wrong. "I'm just awed and I'm…"

"What?" he asked, returning my small touch with a light brush to my hip.

I avoided his eyes for a moment, because when they caught mine, the word I'd been holding back tumbled out, "Scared."

"Scared of what?" Spike murmured, drawing closer so he had both hands on my hips. "Of what a sorry sop I am?"

"No," I shook my head, pulling him closer and burying my face in his shoulder. "Of what a sorry sop I'm not. I don't know how to love you that much. I'm afraid I can't, and then you'll resent me for it."

"Always knew I was better than you, pet," he whispered, making me chuckle voicelessly. "And, I've loved you for a hundred and thirty years, Angel. You've loved me for less than one. You'll catch up."

"I won't," I shook my head, rubbing my face against his skin and breathing him in. "I don't deserve you."

"Well that's too bad, Ange," Spike whispered in my ear, hugging me tightly. "Because I've chosen you, as flawed and loveless as you are. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Do you …" I sighed. "Do you think I can't love you as well as I should because of Buffy?"

"Perhaps," he shrugged, without stiffening in my arms as I'd expected him to.

"But what if we live out her life with her and I still can't love you well enough?"

Spike pulled back, his eyes dancing back and forth over mine before he nodded once, sharply. "Already love me well enough for a thousand lifetimes, Angel. You just can't see it from in there."

Sighing again, I muttered, "You're selling yourself short again."

"Kiss me and I'll tell you if I'm selling myself short," Spike whispered, his chin high and defiant, like he was daring me to do it.

So I did. I brought my lips to his and sank into him slowly. I gave him love and fed him desire as I kissed Will gently. I wanted to be worthy of him and to show him how every bone in my body wanted him, slowly burning for him. This was all I had, all I could give Spike and I knew, whatever I said, it wouldn't be enough.

Because there was one sticking point – if I ever became capable of loving William as completely as he loved me, I would be perfectly happy. And I would end up leaving him.

I could give him Buffy, though. Or, consent to bringing her into our relationship in any case. I could give Spike what he wanted, even if what he wanted seemed like a bad idea. I could stop fighting and let go, let her in. And she would keep me safe from losing myself in him and he would keep me safe from losing myself in her.

As I drew back from him, Spike murmured, "Ya make me weak, Angel."

"You make me strong," I countered.

Nodding his head, Spike got his hands under my shirt, running them up the skin on my back, and said, "Could never be sold short by you, Ange. You came for me."

"You found her for me," I replied, shivering under his touch and brushing my hands up and down his arms.

"I did," he whispered, kissing me again.

As we parted, lips sticking together like even they didn't want to let go, I said, "Promise me there's always going to be an us, besides her. That we won't lose these moments for just the two of us."

"Aye, luv," he murmured with a nod. "If I'm your bleedin' soul-mate as you claim," he rolled his eyes, and yet I felt how happy he was at the idea, "there's to be time for you and me. Always."

"Thank you," I whispered, lips pressed against his again, drawing Spike into the bedroom. "And you won't ..."

"Won't what?"

Laying him back on the bed slowly, I asked, "You won't go to her without me?"

"No," Spike shook his head, reaching up to kiss me again. "And you?"

"Can't," I told him, kissing away from his mouth and down his neck as I tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "Don't even know how much longer I can handle being like this with you."

Chuckling, Spike let me take his shirt and then set his hands to unbuttoning mine. Once that was accomplished and I lay down beside him, Spike whispered, "Just let me know, Ange. If it's getting too good. Help me keep you here?"

"As best I can," I agreed, my hands drifting toward the button on his jeans, popping it open and feeling how he shivered in anticipation. "I love you, Will."

"Aye," he nodded, lifting his hips so I could tug at his jeans and remove them. He watched me with soft eyes as I threw them away and crawled back up the bed to him, setting my body on top of his carefully and taking another kiss. "Love you, Liam … you soddin' berk!" The whispered insult came with a wicked smile and I knew he was only doing it to steal a little bit of the moment away from me, to keep me sane.

I returned his smile before getting to my knees and letting him take my pants and boxers away. And then we were together, skin-on-skin and lips-on-lips. Oh, God! Tongues-on-tongues! But if I wanted to show Spike how much I loved him, I couldn't get distracted and lose myself in him. I had to be gentle and make love to him in a way I hardly ever did. I had to show him how much I wanted and needed him and how little of it was about the blood we shared.

Verigard's dimension was amazing. I couldn't really take it all in until Illyria taught me how to just let the experiences flow over me, rather than trying to capture and analyze them. It would never work. On earth, once you observe a quantum particle, it settles down into one of many possible states. Not so here. Observation didn't rule out alternative possibilities, but made one appreciate how many possibilities there were.

Willow would have said the possibilities were infinite, endless, unknowable and impossible to understand, but she was trying too hard. She'd only ever known observation and was having a difficult time changing gears.

Oh, if only I could have brought Einstein here. And Plank and Bose. To be able to share this new space with some of the greatest minds in history? That would have been incredible and impossible. But, with years to think in only days worth of Earth time, I could figure it out. I could write my equations on the air, without using placeholders for abstract thoughts. Without reality, abstract became real and the math flowed around me like butterflies and Chinese dragons and hope.

I could show earth a new way of thinking. Oh, I could solve the theorems that my colleagues had been trying to describe over and over again, getting nowhere because this vital non-experience was missing. Humans were not meant to solve these laws of the universe, but Illyria made me better than human, infecting my neural pathways and altering them. I felt like Prometheus stealing fire from the gods, powerful and with the best of intentions. Then I realized what had happened to Prometheus.

"He did not suffer long," Illyria said. "Prometheus died the first time the eagle ate his liver. His essence was destroyed, but that did not stop man from rising up against the demons and conquering your realm."

"So, you're saying I should bring these ideas back?"

"You should hoard the fire for yourself, human. You cannot unleash this knowledge on an unsuspecting ape who could not handle the consequences."

Something in my brain remembered the phrase "Prime Directive" and I nodded my head. Maybe if I doled out a little information at a time, I could garner the respect of my peers and be known all over the world as the woman who changed physics forever. Or, I could swallow my pride, like Willow was trying to do over there - I really hoped she wouldn't have an aneurism with the effort - and use my theories only for the greater good.

"How can we use this," I asked Illyria, trailing my fingers through non-existent equations and feeling them tickle my soul, "to help our friends?"

"I have no friends, and you shouldn't either. This knowledge could be used to restore ourselves to our proper place as rulers of Earth. Is not technology your new magic?"

"We are so not going there!" I cried, loving how my voice was silent and yet echoed off the clouds around us. "But we should help. Keep things tipped toward our side of the scale. It's really this archdemon that's giving us the biggest trouble at the moment." And, the only thing protecting us from him and his people, was an archangel's shield that my friend had to bear. It needed to be in many places at once, I decided, in order to protect everyone outside the castle and to free Angel from his bound-in obligation to it.

That was possible here. Heck I was pretty sure when I stopped thinking about it that I was in about a thousand places at once. I just had to work out the equivalency to make that phenomenon relevant on Earth. Expand the possibilities, even under observation. What the heck? I had eternity, didn't I?

Unusually gentle, Angel brought me to bed, his hands light on my skin rather than the heavy, cracking pressure of lust that usually pervaded them. These touches were ghosting and shivering, pleasing and infuriating, like seeing heaven from outside the gates and needing to get in there, only to be turned away, toward something better in your lover's arms.

He made me forget, Angel did, his fingers and lips soothing away the horror of almost losing Buffy, the grating tension of trying to save her on my own and needing him to find me, save me too. He took his time, kissing me, tonguing my mouth gently as if to share himself rather than take what he needed. He pressed kisses lower and lower on my body, setting my skin alight and yet abandoning me to where I couldn't wrap my arms around his bulk and feel safe in his embrace.

Oh, but then! His careful, heavy kisses found my prick and, "Annngelll!" I breathed. Though I still missed him in my arms, his talented mouth and fingers set to work, driving sweet pleasure into my body one caress at a time, baring me naked to him, opening me up to him in a way that ached with perfection. "Bloody hell, luv."

Somehow he got me slicked up and panting for him, mewling with need and tugging on his hair, his head, wanting Angel in my arms again before everything came crashing down. Great bloody forehead to forehead, nose to nose, Angel waiting a brief moment before giving me what I wanted, he whispered, "This is how much I love you, sunshine." And then he was pushing into me like settling into a loved and worn easy chair when you got home, sighing and knowing that this was where you would stay forever if you could.

Yes, I know I just compared myself to a sodding piece of furniture, but fuck you. It was lovely and apt and, "Oh, Ange ... yes, that's the spot!"

I held him tightly as we moved together, slippery sliding with languid sweat, slow and perfect. I tried to ask myself what had gotten into him, but thinking meant not noticing how expertly he rocked his hips and held onto my legs, lifting for a more perfect angle, curling around me on his knees as I curled around him, pressing soft lips to lips and jaw and neck. "Always," he breathed, a promise and a fact. "Always yours, Will."

Those words made me realise that he'd never taken me this softly before. Usually, when it was gentle like this, it was me buggering him all slow and lovely like so he wouldn't flash back and get scared. I've only ever been the victim in heart, not in body. Not even when Dru killed me. But Angel? He'd been ripped apart too young and suffered for it much longer than any man should have to, taking it out on his own victims, taking it out on me because I would let him.

This was too close. Too close to happiness, too close to healing, too close to love and absolute bliss that sneaked up on you when you thought it would never get there and had you keening with joy and fear because if this was how you felt, would your lover feel any less? Would he leave you on a wave of perfect, endless, always-and-forever love like he left your girl?

Fear made me clamp dull teeth onto Angel's shoulder and bite down hard, bruising without breaking the skin. The pain made him come with an imperfect roar and I knew I had just saved us, payment for his bravery that day; and the gift I had to give him? Pain. It was always pain with Angel. Never far from it, that one. No wonder he was able to break away from the Aegis, endure the torture that came along with following me into the darkness to retrieve our girl.

"Thank you," he whispered, trying to pull away until I held him close, chasing Angel's sorry eyes with mine.

When I finally caught them, black with recent pleasure in the dim, soft light pouring in from the other room, I whispered to my Angel, "Too close to perfection, luv. Don't leave."

"Won't," he agreed, blinking back what might have been tears, even as his cock twitched a few last times inside me. Arms wrapped around shoulders and knees or thighs pressed to hips and we held each other close, locked together and breathing in the horrible, heavy disappointment of almost-perfect.

Please review! I haven't quite settled on where this episode is going from here, so any comments or suggestions would be helpful. Thanks!