AN: Sorry for the wait! I've had study blinkers on all week. But assignments are all submitted, exams are all over, and so I'm back in action.

As always thoughts are in italics. Originally I was going to try and make this huge narrative leap with this chapter, but I think you really need some explanations first, so here some are. And I promise alot will happen next chapter! Please let me know what you think :-) Enjoy!

Chapter 14: Scary thoughts

Giles was rubbing the wrinkles that had taken up permanent residence on his forehead as he hunched over a cold cup of tea, . He then let out an exaggerated yawn, shifted the stiffened muscles of his shoulders, re-positioned his glasses and continued reading The Tale of the Strawberry Flower.

He really didn't need to re-read the text anymore, he'd memorized every word of the parable hours ago.

It wasn't even a particularly cryptic passage.

It's symbolism was obvious, crude almost.

Scarlet was a being of unspoken potential. And her path was either one of great destruction or one of healing.

Great darkness, great light, in a moment decided.

In a moment decided. That troubled Giles.

Because if that moment had come and gone, then there was nothing to be done. Well one thing...Giles cringed.

They're really not going to like that.

And why would they? It wasn't their way of doing things. It never had been.

The slayer doesn't stop things that could end the world. The slayer stops the world from ending.

But she's a source. A human source. Even if, and that's if, she somehow overcomes the black magicks Rack is undoubtedly pouring into her every second he holds her captive, she'll still be a conduct. A beacon. A channel for all things un-holy and holy alike.

And they'll come for her, every demonic beast, ever living God, every witch, every warlock, every human who craves power, they'll come. And they'll never stop until there's nothing left but an enchanted vessel of skin and bones. Because even if she may choose the way of light, others will seek her out and use her for darkness.

Giles shook his head in defeat.

There is simply no saving her. Only preventing the destruction she shall inevitably cause, by her will or another. He took a deep breath. They're really not going to like that.

And he didn't either. Scarlet was, no Willow, if your going to kill her then at least show the courtesy to use her real name! She was...the best of all of us.

He swallowed, he'd never meant to grow attached to the ghost who hovered about his library all day while the others took class. Who'd talked him through how to operate that wretched computer, and even guided him through firewall after firewall of governmental databases to get information they required. Who'd distracted countless vampires, demons, hell even principle Snyder, when ever they'd needed a distraction most. Who told them where the initiative was after the commandos tried to capture her. Who'd burst into the Magic Box last year screaming "GLORY'S GOT DAWN AT THE HOSPITAL!" and who was the only one who could keep Tara calm after she'd lost her mind.

Giles covered his mouth and shook his head slightly. This wasn't right. This wasn't what being a Watcher was about.

If found but what an innocent plant, whose fate is not determined. For you, dear friend, what must occur for justice to remain on course? The age-long quest, un-ending doubt, what shall she be, what is to come. So ask yourself, what can you see, is it cobwebs or is it silk?

It was as if the tattered pages addressed him directly. Mocking him with the truth. The only chance they had to stop Willow was before she became something that needed to be stopped. She was just that...an innocent plant.

There has to be another way. Giles thought. But if there was, he couldn't see it.

Ring Ring

He shot his head up. That can't be the phone. It's...he glanced at the antique clock on his lounge room wall, three fifteen in the morning!

Ring Ring.

He was stumbling towards it on weary legs.

"What kind of inconsiderate, socially-inept cretin, dares call a man at this un-godly hour!?" He mumbled as he reached the handset.

"Giles?" Xander's voice.

"That kind." Giles mumbled rolling his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing Xander, what in God's name is it?" Giles snapped impatiently.

"Scarlet...Willow...the formally formless...she's back. Buffy and Tara they found her on patrol tonight."

"She escaped Rack?" Giles asked doubtfully.

"No. Well I don't know. We didn't get to the explanations, they wanted to clean her up a bit first. She was covered in this black stuff, like all over. Head to toe. She looked really bad Giles." She can't stay there.

"I need to see her immediately, she isn't safe to be around. And if she's un-well I may be able to..."

"That's a no go." Xander interrupted. Which is just so typical.

"I beg you pardon?"

"Tara says we can do the Scooby thing tomorrow. Tonight they're just trying to become less gooey. And she's not sick anymore...Tara she um did some magic mojo, fixed her up real fast...it was a little weird Giles. It wasn't like the normal, chant chant, sprinkle some rainbow powder kinda spell. It was different. She just...made it happen. And she kept saying sorry to Scarlet like she was...I mean Willow! She kept saying sorry to Willow!" Xander groaned.

"And she seemed...nomal?" Giles hesitated.

"Well a little shaken up. But yea. Same old cute little redhead. Except you know...without the ghostlyness."

"And she's staying at Buffy's? She's there right now?" Giles asked, he supposed that they're wouldn't be much harm in waiting one night. Especially if Scarlet wasn't dark yet. Willow. He reminded himself, but for some reason it was harder to stomach the thought of hurting Willow the lost girl then Scarlet the mystery ghost.

"She was there when I left." Xander answered.

Willow thrashed and metal cuffs tore into her wrists with the force of the movement. She threw her weight forwards in an effort to break free, her arms jarring awkwardly against invisible bonds.

"Welcome back." A horse eerie voice slithered through the air.

Willow recognized it immediately. Rack.

She focused her eyes and realized she was looking down on him from above, and for the briefest moment Willow wondered if she was in the sky.

But then she sore exotic throw pillows scattered over carpeted floors, a round table shaped like a cog, and pictures hanging from the walls that were torn and ripped as if clawed by an animal. The place looked uncared for, as if uninhabited. Even the wall paper was shredded and peeling away.

But it was all bellow her, as if she were...

"On the ceiling sweetness. You're on the ceiling. " Rack purred.

"You're in my head?" Willow whispered with a tinge of horror. She didn't like the idea of someone reading her mind.

"Wouldn't matter much if I was, now would it? Little ghost little ghost no memories to hide." Rack clicked his tongue and chucked to himself.

"My friends..."

"You banished them. Good thing to, I was starting to forget what I'd come for. Getting caught up in the thrill of the chase and all that. " His silver eye flared dangerously as he spoke.

There was a silence and Willow wanted to ask if they were safe. But something told her that even if Rack knew he wouldn't tell her. So she decided on a different approach.

"What did you come for?" She asked after a moment.

"Waste not want not, I told you through the rat." He spat impatiently.

Willow thought for a moment, it had been a long day.

"...a message for an old friend. You came to give me a message?" Willow proceeded cautiously.

"Clever girl. Clever flower. Will she prosper, or devour." He sang through a merciless grin. It was an unsettling tune.

Rack had something in his hands, but Willow couldn't make it out from this angle. She took a deep breath and puffed her chest out as if to look intimidating. Need to be brave.

"I want you to put me down. Put me down and I'll hear your message." She said clearly. But her whole being quivered as she spoke.

"Very well." He purred.

"Cado." Racks voice was casual as he cast the spell dropping Willow heavily onto the floor. She staggered to her feet.

"Laqeuem." He commanded and she was slammed to a wall, arms and legs splayed out and pulled straight.

She gasped, suffocating, the air sucked from her lungs. Then panted heavily as she regained her breath. And Rack shot across the room to push himself into her helpless form. He sniffed at her mouth as if to greedily inhale the air that escaped her lips. Willow lent her head as far away as possible and held her breath for as long as she was able. Rack threaded his tongue through crooked teeth, his eyes dancing over Willows face, and he took one last deep breath through his nose as if to smell her scent his eyes closing in perverse pleasure.

"Hmmm." He sighed.

His eyes shot open as silver disks. An a erratic fizzle of energy buzzed under his finger tips as they traced the outline of Willows figure. Willow just held still against the wall.

"The message?" She whispered tightly. Praying that it might keep him away. There were no words to express how much Willow disliked the way Rack was looking at her. She felt utterly exposed, violated, powerless.

"Oh sweetness. Old friends like us have to get reacquainted before we start making our place known. Have to get a feel for each other again." He hissed stroking finger down Willows neck then pressing sharply into her pulse point. His nail sinking through skin. She squirmed a little.

"I'd like to hear what you came to say...please." She croaked through a semi occluded voice box.

Rack smiled, jabbed his fingers into her carotid artery one last time for good measure, then drew away slowly. Willow could feel her pulse bounding where his fingers had bruised her neck. She was trying not to stare at the scars that adorned his battered face, a lifetime of battle wounds etched into his features.

"I'll have you soon enough. I'll have you when I'm thirsty." Rack hissed.

He was toying with her. She knew it, he knew it. It was just a matter of time before the toying was over and the rules of the game were abandoned. Play along. She kept thinking. She could smell the dark magicks on him: sooty, bitter, dry.

"But you're not thirsty now?" Willow half-asked half-stated.

"I'm always thirsty for strawberry juice." He purred.

Willow stilled.

"But that's not why you came." She said quietly.

"No." Rack admitted.

A distorted grin covered Rack's scared mouth and Willow tried to hide how much that smile unsettled her.

"It tastes purest when it fresh, and it's freshest when it's willingly. And I have what will make you willing." He purred.

"What do you have?" She asked in a little voice.

"All in good time sweetness. All in good time." He replied with a slithering twist.

The dingy room fell quite. I have to get back. Have to get back to Tara.

"Please, tell me why I'm here." Willow requested in a little voice.

"You and I have a little arrangement in the real world, an understanding." Rack hummed as he spoke.

Willow couldn't suppress a shutter.

"What are you going to make me do?" Willow didn't really want to know the answer to that. But she had to know. It was the only way to keep the others safe.

"Curiosity killed the cat." Rack spat bluntly.

There was a silence and Rack was fiddling with the object in his hands when the silver blade shimmered in the light...a knife. He has a knife. Willow realized.

And I'm very knifeable now.

All flesh and blood.

And his going to kill me.

And I only got to be alive for a second.

And there were so many things I wanted to do once I found my body.

I didn't even get to hug someone I cared about,

or try spaghetti and meat balls with the secret ingredient,

or feel the sun on my skin,

or the wind in my hair,

or ask Dawnie to show me how to draw those little roses she's always doodling in her notebooks,

or dust my first vampire,

or wear a pretty dress that makes someone go all none-verbal,

or feel snug as a bug all tucked up in bed, and what does that even mean? Are bugs somehow innately snug?! And how come they get to know how it feels to be snug and warm and real and I never do!

AND I didn't even get the chance to kiss her! Willow slammed her head against the wall she was pinned too in frustration.

She'd had a rough life. Well what she could remember of it anyway. But this. Knowing she was so close to it all, and that she'd never make it. It was rock bottom. Well...rock bottom until he starts making me kill off the people I love one by one or forces me to summon some apocalyptic beastie that swallows the world up in one big gulp.

Willow sighed internally.

I just. I really really really wanted to kiss her. Just once. I just wanted to kiss her once. And then I'd be done. Then they could drag me off to whatever hell dimension I came from and never look back. I just wanted to kiss her once.

"I dont' get that saying...I mean presumably the cat died because it acted on curiosity without observing the danger of a situation. I just asked you a question, what's the danger in that?" Willow asked. Nerves wobbling her voice.

"Oh my naive little delicate wallflower." Rack purred. And as he stalked towards her as if cornering his prey, Willow suddenly wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

Rack leaned closer and sniffed Willow neck, nudging at her like a dog. Then he brought his lips to her ears and whispered.

"You're not ready, not sweet enough yet. But no matter, I'm a very patient man, l can wait till you're ripe, I've been waiting a long time for this." His voices lingered as he slowly sliced the blade into his own palm, digging it into his skin, and black ink split from the wound and trickled along the blade. His eyes never leaving Willow as smiled an whispered.

"Your turn."

Willow whimpered softly in fear.

"Scarlet?"She heard a sleepy question, but it was out of place, she hadn't heard that then had she? No, now he melts me into black ink. Wait, how did she know what was supposed to happen?

"Willow?" It didn't fit. That voice, that soothing voice didn't belong here.

No. He didn't melt me then, first he drags the dagger down my arm, bleeds me into a vile...why does he need the blood?

"Willow, wake up" A more urgent version of the soothing voice pleaded. No, it was just us, Rack and I, no kind voices, soon he pushes his palm into my arm and squeezes, makes the blood mix. It hurt, burned, blistered. I felt him leave a mark. She moaned painfully.

"It's not real. Sweetie, you have to wake up." And her shoulders were being shaken as images of Rack, blood and pools of black ink faded into a dark room as her blurred vision returned.

"You're asleep. Whatever you're seeing it's just a dream. You're safe in bed." The soothing voice was saying. And Willow believed it even though she wasn't sure where it was coming from. Everything was the same shade of deep shadow and dark blue.

"Where..." She stared, her own voice thick and drowsy.

"Buffy's house. We brought you back here and fell asleep after your shower. Remember?" Tara said helpfully. Willow still couldn't see but she knew it was Tara. Of course it was Tara.

And Tara was gently squeezing her arm as if to pull Willow back to reality, to lightly wake her from the nightmare.

We're in bed. Mrs Summer's old room.

Willow nodded that she remembered, and her head rustle the fabric of the pillowcase.

"Bad dream?" Tara asked while letting her long fingers brush red hair out of Willow's face.

So close Willow realized as she breathed in deep. She could see little shimmers of light looking down on her, light reflecting off blue eyes.

So close. Tara's hand came to linger in her hair and it sent tingles through Willow's scalp as fingers softly shifted underneath. She lent into Tara's palm.

So close. It was the most comforting sensation. Everything was calm and warm. And Willow felt as if the world stilled as her breathing slowed and her heart relaxed.

Safe.

"Yea. Well l um...I think so." Willow replied, a little confused.

"Don't know so?" The soothing voice pressed.

"Maybe...is it a dream if your just remembering something that happened, and it feels like it's happening again? Or is it just a memory that your brains replaying when your asleep? Like reliving it or something? Would you call that a dream?" Willow trailed off.

Most people might have laughed at her irrelevant fixation with definitions or jumpy train of thought, but Tara wasn't most people. And she seemed to understand that this was serious, despite Willow quirkiness.

"I think it's still a dream...was it about Rack?" Tara asked gently.

Willow nodded. Her head was still all jumbled up between the nightmare and the warm bed.

"Are you okay?" Tara asked quietly.

"Yea." I'm always okay when I'm with you. Willow's brain suddenly processed that she was curled tightly into Tara's side, hands clutching the material of her seat shirt and one of her legs had bent itself over Tara's thigh pulling it into the twisted ball of limbs that made up Willow's sleeping position.

She had essentially trapped Tara tightly beside her in a way that seemed far to interment for two friends. Especially when one of you is secretly harboring three years of unrequited love for the other who is currently not single...

"Sorry" Willow muttered embarrassed as she tried to unwrap herself without inappropriately rubbing against Tara. It would be easier to do, if every basic instinct in her body wasn't screaming at her to do just that. To feel any sort of physical contact. To hold on tightly and never let go for anything.

"Don't be silly. I'll take whatever I can get from the cuddles department." Tara joked as she gave the redheads arm a little squeeze sending a little spark buzzing down her arm to the very tips of her fingers. Tara could always do that. She always knew exactly what to say to make anyone feel at ease. It was one of the reasons Willow loved her so much. One out of like a bizzillion cadrillion flobadagillion million trillion...

"Are you still cold? Your shaking a little." Tara's voice was thick with concern.

"No." Willow shook her head then continued.

"Just a bit wired, I think the dream kinda got me all adrenalin-boosted." She offered a weak-heated smile.

"Scary thoughts?" Tara asked gently, and Willow felt the blonde tug her closer.

"Not any more." She said quietly into Tara neck as she snuggle into the embrace.

Willow inhaled the deepest, freshest breath of coconut soap and sandalwood shampoo. She could smell Tara's skin, the faint natural sweetness of it's milky surface. She exhaled a little shakily and hoped it didn't give her away.

She shouldn't be doing his. Tara didn't want her that way.

But it was instinct.

It was right.

It was where she was meant to be, always and forever.

Tara was absentmindedly stroking her hair and tracing little circles on her back.

Willow closed her eyes and tried to absorb every pleasant sensation all at once.

Three years was a long time to wait to be real.

But she'd wait another sixty if she knew that Tara would hold her like this again. She'd wait an eternity if she had to. Because this was worth it all. That moment was , without a second of hesitation, without a hint of regret, without a doubt in Willow's mind worth all the time in the world

And deep down she knew that Tara must feel it too.

A connection like they had, it couldn't just be one-sided, it couldn't just be the lonely ghost girl pinning over the kindhearted witch. Willow couldn't just be imaging it. It was beyond her imagination.

It was too strong.

It held them tightly, washed over them, submerged them completely.

They were tied to each other, anchored in place.

I really really really want to kiss her. Willow thought as she let her self drift back to sleep in Tara's arms.

Tomorrow, I don't care what else happen's. I don't care if the sky starts falling and the earth implodes into tiny little pieces. I'm kissing her tomorrow.

TBC