T.D. WIDOW: Yep, continuity error. But in my own defence I say this: snow that only falls for one night in +30 degree heat and isn't cold, ain't snow. Where I come from...now THAT'S snow!

THE SEA OF WAKING DREAMS

Rupert Giles stood in front of the outdoor cargo bays in Heathrow Airport, watching the airline crews unloading his cumbersome trunk from the back of the Boeing plane. This was far too risky for his liking; he had fretted over this moment the entire flight over the Atlantic. Now he stood, fingering the coins in his pockets as he waited impatiently for his trunk to arrive at his feet. Two young men staggered with the trunk between them, glaring at him as they dropped it daringly close to his toes. He nodded his thanks, and in return they wiped the sweat off their brow before throwing another glare in his direction.

He managed to drag the trunk inside the airport, but was then forced to sit on it until sunset. He drummed his fingers on the top, hoping that the sound would be so annoying that the slumbering vampire inside would be forced to wake up. It was to no avail; Spike snored loudly inside the trunk and Giles had to check his watch every five minutes until the sun made its final descent.

Fed up with his duty, Giles dragged the trunk to a secluded corner in the overflowing airport and threw the lid up. Spike was curled into a fetal position and did not yet have his eyes open. In fact, he was still snoring.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" Giles whispered through clenched teeth. "Get up you lazy oaf!" He nudged Spike with a rough elbow in the vampire's ribs.

"Sod off, wanker," Spike murmured sleepily as he turned over to avoid future elbows.

Giles rolled his eyes and set his mouth in his trademarked frown. "That's it. I'm throwing you outside into the street. Hope you've got your SPF 2000 on, my boy, because you're about to get awfully tanned."

That got Spike's attention. He was sitting up in an instant, glancing back and forth with panicked eyes. Realization hit him a few moments later when he managed to get a glimpse of the darkening sky above them. "Not funny, mate," he admonished.

Rupert's eyes looked crazed with annoyance. "Nor was it meant to be. This is your one and final warning, Spike. If you get in my way, if you do anything to harm this mission whatsoever..." Giles shook his head and looked away.

Spike grasped the sides of the trunk and sighed. "Yeah, come on watcher. You were so close to gettin' a good threat in there somehwere."

Giles turned a sharp eye towards him. "Do you vampires think that the Slayers are all born with stakes in their hands? Did it never occur to you that they needed to be taught how to fight? And guess who taught them?"

Spike cocked his head. "Yeah, got it. An' where's your stake, big boy?"

Giles blinked. Then he stood and straightened his vest quickly. "Yes, well. I think you've learnt your lesson. Shall we go then?"

Spike smirked and hopped out of the trunk.

***

Legolas rode side-by-side to Buffy. She had been oddly silent since they ventured out of the campsite. Soft flakes of snow drifted lazily to the earth and settled lightly on her hair and shoulders, coating them in a thin layer that Buffy barely even noticed. She stared blearily in front of her, swaying in her saddle from the momentum of the horse's footsteps. He could stand her silence no longer.

"Buffy," he prompted softly.

She murmured something intelligible but didn't seem to absorb his voice.

"Buffy," he stated more forcefully.

"Dol Goldur," she muttered.

Legolas froze. He reached across the distance between their horses and squeezed her shoulder.

Startled, Buffy immediately sat up and took in her surroundings with surprise. Belatedly, she realized that it was Legolas who shook her out of her reverie. She gave him a half-hearted smile. "Sorry," she apologized. "I kind of zoned out there for a minute."

Legolas' eyes bore into her face sombrely. "You said something a moment ago. How did you know that name?"

Buffy blinked at him. "What are you talking about?" She asked with a vacant stare.

Legolas glanced around quickly to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "You said, 'Dol Goldur'," he whispered. "Where did you learn that name?"

Buffy shook her head and shrugged. "Sorry. No comprendes."

Legolas gave her a funny look but let the matter drop. He frowned; he knew that he had heard her correctly. Perhaps she was hiding something from him. He threw another glimpse in her direction and was shocked to see her shiver. It took a quick second for him to remember that he did not feel the chill as she did.

"You are cold," he stated matter-of-factly.

Buffy turned slowly to him, attempting to suppress another shiver. "And you're not?"

Legolas shook his head. "We do not feel the cold." He reached behind him and rummaged around in his satchel. A moment later a rich-brown cloak emerged. He passed it to her.

She held the cloak in her hands, absorbing the odd warmth emanating from the soft fabric. "Thank you." She flung it around her shoulders and was instantly gratified by the extra layer. She glanced down at herself; at her mud-drenched boots that at one time were black; at her dirt-laden, blood-splattered jeans; her borrowed, three-times too big tunic; and now her pristine Elvish cloak. "I'm getting more elfish all the time," she remarked with a laugh.

Legolas threw her a puzzled frown followed by a shake of his head. "No, it's Elvish. Not elf-" he stopped when he saw the smile forming at the corners of her mouth. "No matter," he finished quickly.

Buffy laughed. "I make you flustered, don't I?"

Legolas shook his head. "You do not make me...what does 'flustered' mean?"

"This," she pointed at him. "This is exactly what it means. I'm turning your whole world upside down, aren't I?"

Legolas was about to retort but closed his mouth. He thought about it for a moment. "It is true," he said softly. She still smiled, but Legolas saw the way the smile seemed distant, almost sad. He looked down at his horse's head. "There is no one like you in Mirkwood," he continued. "In all of Middle Earth, for that matter." Buffy stared silently ahead of her. Legolas reached over and touched her cheek lightly. "It is good that you came. You breathe life into our woods once again."

Buffy looked up into his face with a grin. "Watch yourself Leggo. That was almost downright sentimentality."

Legolas smiled but turned away quickly. What was with his blushing lately?

***

Giles had barely taken his finger off the door buzzer when it was opened hastily and blocked by a stout woman. Her frizzy red hair appeared to be pulled back, but unruly bits in the front framed her make-up free face. She eyed the two suspiciously and frowned.

"What d'you want?" She asked quickly.

Rupert's forehead creased as he studied her. He was about to respond but instead took a step back to check the number above the brick townhouse. "Is, ah, Mr. Woodson in?"

"What d'you care?" She asked accusingly.

He heard Spike start to laugh behind him and he turned to throw a quick, silencing glare in the vampire's direction before collecting his own patience. Giles took off his glasses, cleaned them, replaced them, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Speaking very slowly and feigning calmness, he replied "Because I wish to speak with him, naturally."

The woman harrumphed and held the door open for them. "An' who should ah tell 'im is wanting t'speak wi' 'im?"

Giles stepped inside the hall; hands still jammed inside his pockets. "You may tell him Rupert is here to see him."

She didn't move. Giles blinked at her. She nodded in Spike's direction. "An' your friend?"

Giles stammered for a moment. "Oh, him, well he's not imp-" Spike nudged him sharply in the side. "Billy," Giles spat out. "His name is Billy." Spike threw him a quizzical look. Giles shrugged.

The woman eyed them for a moment before turning to leave. "Stay here," she ordered. "Ah'll collect 'im directly."

The two watched the short woman leave before sighing in tandem. "Wonderful maid, she is," Spike commented.

"She's a model of professionalism," Giles agreed.

They heard her stomping down the hall towards them minutes later. Giles frowned; the woman was pudgy, there could be no doubt of that, but her footsteps sounded like they belonged to a stampeding rhinoceros. She stood in front of them with her hands on her hips in military-style rigidity. "He'll see you in th' parlour, Mr. Rupert."

Giles and Spike both moved forward, but the housekeeper slapped a hand on Spike's chest. "An' where d'you think you're goin'? Ah don't recall sendin' you off."

It was Spike's turn to blink at her. He looked to Giles who grinned maliciously before making off towards the parlour. The woman removed her hand and replaced it on her hip. She turned her head slightly and scrutinized the vampire. "Do ah know you from somewheres?"

Spike looked panicked for a second. "Ah, no. No, I don't think so."

She wagged her finger at him. "Ah know ah know you from somewheres." She stroked her chin as she stared at the floor in deep thought. "Billy, Billy, Billy," she repeated to herself.

Spike shifted nervously on his feet. Of all the people in the world to have to keep company with...

Suddenly, she looked back up at him with a bright face. "Ah know!" She exclaimed. "You're that singer, aren't you?"

Spike's mouth dropped. "Singer?"

***

Gandalf wrinkled his eyebrows and nose at the sight of the thick clumps of snow coming down in swift volume. The Elves around him seemed not to notice. He looked back at Aragorn. Aragorn's eyebrows raised in silent question. Gandalf made a dramatic show of looking up into the sky. Aragorn nodded slowly and lead his horse up beside Gandalf's.

"This weather is unnatural," Gandalf muttered.

Aragorn leaned in towards Gandalf. "They seem not to care," he said with a nudge of his chin in Linnethuil's direction.

Gandalf shook his head. "I suspect that even the unnatural does not raise any alarm with them; they are so used to all their days being filled with such."

Aragorn nodded. "What should do we do?" He asked quietly.

Gandalf grumbled before answering. "There is nothing we can do but hope that we make it back to the kingdom alive."

Aragorn studied him with agitation. "What do you suspect?"

Gandalf shook his head, fingering the deep grooves on his walking stick that was laid out in front of him on the saddle. "An old evil awakens," he whispered. "Let us hope that we pass under it without notice."

Aragorn shivered, although it was not from the cold.

***

William Woodson sat with his back turned to Rupert Giles. The Council member stared ahead at the volumes of books lining the oak shelves, drumming his finger on the small table beside him. Giles watched him serenely and said nothing.

Finally, William turned his face slightly, giving Rupert a glimpse of his cheek. "The palantir, I suppose? That's what this impromptu visit is about?"

Giles retained his silence.

William carried on. "And I suppose that you are not here to return it."

"No," Giles said softly.

William chuckled cynically. "It never ceases to amaze me how the Watchers manage to justify their actions, no matter how selfish they may be."

"Selfish?" Giles repeated.

William turned, or rather, his entire chair turned. Rupert's mouth opened slightly. "Paralysed? What happened?" He asked.

William shrugged. "A somewhat minor consequence. You should have seen what happened to some of the others."

Giles shook his head. "I don't understand."

William smirked. "No, of course not. Those who are proclaimed guardians have certain duties. If we fail in those duties, well," he shrugged and pointed to his legs. "Let's just say that there are punishments in line."

The comprehension drained Rupert's face of its colour. "The Council did this?"

William shrugged again. "It could have been worse." He sipped his tea and cupped it in his hands as he contemplated another fate. "I could have accepted the severance package."

Giles grimaced. He took a tentative step towards William. "I didn't come here to mock you," he started. "But I need your help."

William grunted. "I guess I don't need to inquire whether or not this has to do with your Slayer, hmm?"

Giles set his jaw rigidly. "She's trapped," he affirmed.

"Trapped?" William took another sip of his tea. "Where?"

"In another realm."

William leaned forward, intrigued. "In the palantir's realm, correct?"

Giles nodded.

William sat back and stroked his black moustache. "We've never been able to fully control a portal between the two worlds. There's too much...interference. But I might be able to help you."

A look of relief settled on Giles' face until William started his next sentence. "For a price." The look vanished. William smiled, noting the dread flash across Rupert's eyes. "The palantir must be returned."

Giles' forehead creased. "To the Council?"

William laughed. "Heavens, no! To me."

Giles studied the floor for a moment. "William, do you think that wise?"

William glared at Giles. "If you want my help, old friend, it doesn't matter." There was a metallic creaking as the automated wheelchair pivoted away from Giles. "The choice is yours."

***

It was not warm enough to melt the snow but it was not cool enough to keep the flakes light. Instead, the snow clumped together, falling in large masses and sticking to the boughs of trees. The horses' footsteps faltered as they slipped in the mush of wet snow mixed with mud and shook their manes to rid themselves of it. The Elves brushed away the swiftly gathering clumps of snow on their shoulders impatiently. Legolas' head turned sharply as he heard the loud cracking of a bough giving way to the weight of the snow amassed on top of it. He eyed the forest with a frown.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.

Legolas continued to survey the scene taking place all around him. "This snow comes too quickly. The forest is not yet ready for it."

Buffy nodded. "Me neither. If I had known that I'd be stepping into winter-land then I'd have grabbed my parka on the way out." She thought for a moment. "Not that I even have one." She cocked her head. "Or even know anyone who has one."

The line of horses and Elves stopped abruptly. Buffy threw a questioning glance in Legolas' direction. Legolas frowned even deeper in response. Buffy looked behind her to where Gandalf and Aragorn rode. They, too, wore the same expression. "What's going on?" She whispered across to Legolas.

"I know not."

Buffy pushed herself up to peer over the heads of the Elves in front of her. The two Elves in the lead were leaning in close to each other, gesturing with their hands to the path in front of them, and obviously arguing. Eliathas' black horse thundered from the rear and past her own horse to confront the two in front. The two Elves stopped and sat up with erect backs, staring in front of them. Even from this distance, Buffy could see the infuriated glare of Eliathas streaking a path through the two Elves. Linnethuil's horse stopped beside Legolas'.

Legolas leaned across his horse while still watching Eliathas rip into the two Elves. "What is it, brother?"

"I believe we have been led astray."

Legolas turned his head to stare at Linnethuil with an open mouth. "How so?"

Linnethuil glanced at the whitened sky and shrugged. "It would seem that nature has a different path in store for us this fine day." He looked back at Legolas with a wry grin.

Legolas' eyes narrowed. "On any other day I would appreciate your humour."

"Have it your way then, Legolas." He nudged his horse to go forward. "Plainly, we are lost."

Buffy was staring at Legolas. "Is that possible? I thought Elves had a built-in GPS system or something."

"Whatever GPS is, I can assure you we do not possess it. But we cannot be lost. The guides are merely confused by the snow covering the path. It is highly unlikely-"

He was intent on continuing his pep-talk when Eliathas' voice boomed out. "Turn back! This is not the right path."

Buffy shrugged. "Apparently it is highly likely."

Legolas wore a face of pure confusion. This was the second time he had been lost in his own homeland in a three-day span. It was beginning to get embarrassing. "What could cause this?" He muttered furiously to himself.

"Angmar." Buffy replied.

Legolas felt his blood chill at the sound of her voice. Gandalf and Aragorn halted their horses. The Elves behind Legolas and Buffy rode around them, throwing curt glances as they passed. The line moved on, but the four stayed.

"How is it you know that name, Buffy?" Gandalf asked gently. Aragorn and Legolas stared at her.

Buffy shrugged as she stared at the ground. She lifted a hand up to rub her eyes. "My head hurts," she mumbled.

"When did you head first start to hurt?" Gandalf continued.

Buffy shrugged again. "Since I looked into that stupid ball."