"Do you really feel that is a good idea, Willow? I mean, is it wise to worry them when they can't even help her?"
"We don't know that. Anya said herself she isn't familiar with the reversal spell. It certainly can't hurt to have everyone here who loves her." Willow's voice had a certain quality to it...an eminence that sounded as if she had lost hope, but was still grasping at straws.
"Yes, I suppose it wouldn't hurt." Upon hearing the positive response, she turned to leave. "You'll find them at Spike's hou...er...abode."
There was one voice sounded in unison, "What?!"
"Buffy brought them there for 'safe keeping' as it were. What with Glory and all."
"Well, while I get them, you better call Angel."
Just the sound of the name brought on varied feelings among the group – all of them strong. Xander's eyes narrowed. Anya looked at him with a question on her face. Tara's and Giles's faces brightened as if to say, "of course!"
"I'll call him and convince him to come. Should-should I have him bring Cordelia and Wesley?" The red head glared evilly at him. "I don't think that will be necessary. We want to save Buffy, not push her further into oblivion." With that, she left on her mission.
Giles quickly accepted the responsibility of talking Angel into dropping what he was doing and rushing out to old Sunnydale. The ensouled vampire seemed different to the Watcher...more distant and detached somehow. But he ignored the feeling, allowing himself to feel a bit relieved that the only soul likely to save the Slayer would soon be present. If anyone possessed the kind of love for the blonde that Anya had described, it was undoubtedly Angel.
Giles gently replaced the receiver into its cradle, breathing a sigh of respite. Now if only they could find that reversal spell before... A shiver coursed through him at the unfinished thought.
She awoke to find herself in...well, God, where the hell was she? There was nothing. No trees, no buildings, no sky, no ground. Buffy began to panic. Immediately she prepared to run but found herself unable to move. It wasn't as if she were restrained, being forced to remain. She just couldn't move. It was as if she were paralyzed. She tried over and over to take a step forward, move her arm, turn her head...anything. Her mouth tried to scream, but the air remained deadly silent. Hell! She didn't even know if there was air here, for she wasn't breathing. All she felt was coldness surrounding her like a blanket.
For once in her life, she would have to rely on her friends to help her. Oh how she hoped they had a handle on the situation. Buffy knew she didn't.
A red head stood on tiptoes, peering through the crypt window. What she saw caused her eyes to open wide and her jaw to drop. There was Spike and Joyce, sitting together on one chair, watching a television show. What was more amazing was that they were apparently having a great time bantering back and forth, discussing the characters and their actions. Her mind promptly flashed back to when the vampire first returned to Sunnydale from Brazil and kidnapped her. The cruel, desperate look that had previously resided in his eyes had disappeared. Replacing it now was a definite look of...well, what it was she wasn't sure, but it sure did smack of a soul.
Willow shook off her thoughts before she knocked on the door. Unexpectedly, Dawn answered. She could hear a Brit shouting from inside.
"You don't just open the sodding door you little twit! What if it's some big bad come to get you?!" Dawn just crossed her arms and sighed.
Willow decided to dispense with the pleasantries as she entered the dark, dank crypt and get right to the point. "Buffy's in trouble." All eyes were focused on her. "There's been some spell cast, by whom we don't know, and it's making her wither away to nothing. Right now she's curled up on the training room floor, staring at the wall. The last thing I heard her say was 'help me'."
Willow bravely fought back tears as now was not the time for emotion. Now was the time for action. Joyce sat at the edge of the chair, not fighting back her tears as well as the witch. Dawn didn't know what to do or think.
Spike suddenly and unpredictably stood, chest out, head high. "How do we fix her?" The three women, through their shock and grief of the news, looked at him, confused as to his intentions.
"Well, we aren't certain, but we need someone who loves her deeply. So, I thought maybe her family would be a good bet. We need to get you to her."
Spike cut off any more conversation. "Right! Well. She needs us. So, let's go." The soul-less vampire grabbed Joyce and Dawn, hurrying them out to the waiting car. Fortunately, he only burned a bit of his hand before stopping to grab a blanket for protection.
The four remaining people continued to scour through a pile of books. Spike's barging in caused a loud interruption that made everybody jump. A few vulgarities, uttered quietly, floated around the atmosphere.
"Joyce!" Giles stood and crossed the room to comfort the distraught woman, while Xander and Anya did the same for Dawn. Support and empathy circled the room, as did discussion of the situation and what they knew about the solution thus far. No one saw Spike slip away.
The small, blonde figure lay in the corner, looking so
helpless and vulnerable. Not even on that fated night when she defeated
Angelus had she looked this defenseless. Her face shined, the moonlight
reflecting off her cold skin. Spike gently sat next to her, holding
her limp, white hand in his. He brushed the hair way from her face,
then whispered in her ear, "Don't you bloody die before I can tell you
I love you, Slayer." One blonde held the other. His eyes squeezed
shut as he stroked her hair.