Chapter 2

Vaguely I hear three voices; two are female while the third is a high pitched male voice. "Her aura is brightening," I hear the male voice state almost matter-of-factly, though how he would know escapes me.

"About time," a silky feminine voice whispers.

"Are you sure she is secure," the second female voice asks sounding unsure.

"Of course she is Rache," the male says, whoever he is, and he sounds very sure of himself. I guess he is the one who tied me up, since I can now make out the feel of restraints around my wrists and ankles - it appears that I am tied into a chair. Great.

"So, is she a witch or not?" It's the second female voice, the one that guy called "Rache."

"I'm not sure," he sounds frustrated. "She has a redwood smell to her, but it is not very strong and there is a human quality to her scent too." What is he talking about? You can't smell witch and witches are human? Ok, this is getting weirder the longer I sit here.

Beginning to get control of my eye lids, though my head still feels foggy, I crack my eyes open. It must be day time because I can see blue tinted light filling the room, I can tell it is sun light so it must be coming in from a window located somewhere close by. The voices continue talking. The male is still talking about my scent, "If she is a witch she doesn't spell very much. May be she is a warlock." Hello, I am obviously not a warlock! What is it with these people? My eyes are almost adjusted to the bright light in the room as I look up in search of the people the voices belong to. I'm in a kitchen? I stare surprised. It is a beautiful kitchen. I can tell I am not in a restaurant, though if it wasn't for the personal touches everywhere I might think I was in the kitchen of a small restaurant.

There are two stoves, a stainless steel island with books and pots stacked underneath, and a hanging rack above the island with a few utensils and herbs drying. Behind me is a big wooden table, not the polished kind we have in Buffy's dining room but still nice. It is obviously serves as more than a table, I note as I see the stacks of papers and the computer that clutter a majority of the table. The three people still have not looked to me, so I take the opportunity to look at my captors. At the island there is a tall, thin red head. She is pretty even with her frizzy hair. I don't know how she can be that fair skinned and not have freckles though. I should ask her, I think then criticize myself for having such common thoughts about people who have me tied to a chair in their kitchen. I do not see the source of the masculine voice, but the second female . . . damn. She is tall and breathtaking. She has shiny black hair that goes past her shoulders and pale skin that brings out her dark eyes, I note as she turns to me with a shocked look on her face and pupils dilating. If I wasn't a taken woman, I think then remember Tara left me. My heart breaks again and I begin to fight back tears. Her face turns to one of sorrow before it becomes unreadable.

"Why don't you just ask her," comes the male voice again, but I still cannot see the man. Suddenly, everything seems clearer and I remember a small man with wings talking to me. Pixy, he had said he was a pixy. I look to the section of counter between the two women and see him. My foggy head doubles and I feel dizzier than I imagine is humanly possible. "She is gonna go out again," he shouts.

The red head rushes over, "Oh, no you don't." She slaps me, it is strong and stings my cheek but it is nothing compared to being hit by Buffy or a vampire. "Stay with me strawberry shortcake." That makes me a little more alert. Did she just call me strawberry shortcake? The ivory skinned woman in all black rolls her eyes from the counter. I look between the two women, trying my best to ignore the four inch man flying in front of my face. Something feels familiar about them . . . and the kitchen . . . and the pixy! Oh my God. I must be dreaming, because I could swear these are characters out of one of my books. My face scrunches up as I puzzle through this.

"Come on ask her . . . before the sun goes nova," the pixy says irritated. If I am right, then the pixy is Jenks and squatting before me is Rachel, a demon/witch, and the woman leaning against the counter is not only a vampire but one tall glass of stunning, screwed up danger named Ivy. My imagination is making her even prettier than the author described her, not good for me.

Rachel snaps her fingers in front of my face to get my gaze to turn to her. "Who are you and what where you doing our church?"

"I really need to wake up," I mutter just slightly under my breath.

"You are awake," Jenks laughs. "Now answer the question."

I sigh as I look at them. "Look I know this is just a dream, and I don't know why I would dream about-" I stop short as Jenks flies up to me with his sword drawn. "Ow," I exclaimed as he pokes me with his sword.

"Real enough for you?"

"Jenks," Rachel says exasperation heavy in her voice. "Who are you? And what where you doing in our church," her voice is threatening so I decide that I should just play along with the game till I wake up.

"I am Willow," I do not try to hide my frustration as I look into Rachel's green eyes. "I was completing a spell to help me sleep and next thing I know I am in your church." I make sure that my point is understood by raising my eyebrows and looking pointedly at her. "The spell must have worked faster than I expected, and now I am dreaming all this," I say completing my story and half musing to myself how this could have happened. I know I did it right because here I am dreaming. Maybe I should have done it in bed; I am going to have a major crick in my neck when I wake up.

Jenks laughs at my explanation, "Sure and you expect us to believe that."

"A sleep spell wouldn't have transported you here," Rachel explains.

"I am dreaming," I counter. Again, Jenks pokes me with his sword, "Ow, would you stop that!"

"Stupid lunker, If you were dreaming would that hurt," he asks pointedly as he flies to sit on Ivy's shoulder, happy his point is made.

Rachel looks at him purposely, "Would you stop that?" Would it, I ask myself. I have never had a dream hurt before, and I don't think a sleep aid would cause them to start hurting. My eyes widen as I think this over some more. But they are fictional characters . . . in a book. "Look, despite what you think you are not dreaming."

"How," I breathe, meaning how could this not be a dream.

"Misaligned spell I guess," she responds obviously thinking I was asking how a spell got me here. "Though I don't see how a spell for sleep would transport you here." She has both of her eyebrows raised making her startling green eyes look even bigger, "What were you really doing?"

"I'm not lieing," I protest.

"So you are a witch," Jenks spouts from Ivy's shoulder.

"Yes. Well, no . . . It's hard to explain," I struggle to find a way to describe that I am a human and a witch because there is no differenc. "Not like you are use to. I am human and a witch." At this Jenks burst out laughing like I have just told the joke of the century.

Rachel just sighs at his outburst as she turns back to me, "It is common knowledge that witches and humans are not the same species." If I am not mistaken she thinks I am trying to trick her.

How do you explain something like this? "Look I know that's how it works here but not-"

"For the love of Tink, it is the same everywhere!" Jenks was no longer sitting on Ivy's shoulder but flying a little too close to my nose. "You are a warlock, a human who performs magic but cannot invoke spells."

"Do I look like a warlock to you," I shout without thinking. These people are really starting to upset me.

"You look like stupid demon bait, can't even use a sleepy time charm properly."

"It wasn't a 'sleepy time charm' and I do all my own spells, no blood needed." I let my red head temper flare. Yes, normally I am a quiet girl, but these three, two actually seeing as Ivy is just watching, are infuriating me. This is a dream, I know it. Despite what they keep telling me and the fact that they can hurt me, this is a dream. I repeat it in my head several times. Like any dream, I just need to make my brain remember that I have control over the situation.

"I thought all spells needed blood," I heard Ivy ask Rachel.

"Well yea, but not ley line," she mused out loud. "Though I don't know of any ley line sleep spells that you can or would want to perform on yourself."

Their conversation continues as I close my eyes tight repeating "It is just a dream. You can wake up now" over and over in my head, letting it become a soft hum of meditation. I can feel the stress caused by everything going on in my life weigh heavy on my shoulders as my meditation continues.