Author's note: Sorry this took me so long to get out-
hope I didn't lose everybody's interest... Um, I'm just writing this as
I go, which I'm not used to (I usually write the entire thing before posting)
so be patient... I'll try to be better about getting chapters out faster
*grin*... please review! I'll love you forever!!! Read and (hopefully)
enjoy...
"They sent you to get me out?"
Faith looked sceptically at the dark-haired boy through the visitor's
screen. "I mean, seriously. They've got witches, vamps and ex-demons and
they send you?"
"I'm touched by your trust in me," Xander replied sarcastically.
"Really. But no, as much as I know you'd like me to be your knight in shining
armor, I'm just a messenger."
Sighing with relief, Faith nodded. "Ok. What's the message, messenger?"
"Well," Xander began. "We don't know if the Watcher's council
is here yet, or how they're gonna do it, so we're going as soon as possible.
Not sure of the exact time yet, tonight if possible. Willow and Angel will
get in- don't ask me how, Angel's good at this stuff- and Willow's got
a whole nice string of spells worked out and ready, although I have no
idea what the hell any of them are. Anyway, she says you won't recognize
them. Someone who seems to be a guard will come and tell you you've
got a call, then take you into one of the booths. From there, Willow and
Angel say they've got it covered."
"Okay," Faith nodded. "I'll be ready."
"Have I mentioned sewers are disgusting yet?" Willow wrinkled
her nose as Angel helped her out of the small opening she had just pulled
herself through, looking at the dark, dank room around her. "So, where
are we now?"
"In the prison, " Angel replied, surveying the area with his
eyes.
"This is the prison? It's just like the sewer!"
"It's part of the old wing," explained Angel. "But it connects
into the new section in quite a few places- this section is set to be destroyed
in just a few days."
Willow nodded understanding, following Angel through the door
and into the decaying hall beyond. They proceeded down the hallway, and
into a small, cluttered room that smelled heavily of cleaning agents.
"Janitor's closet," Angel whispered. "Through there's one of
the survellience rooms. You ready?"
Willow nodded consent. "I'm going to go ahead with the glamour
spell," she whispered back.
She closed her eyes. Mumbling softly in Latin, she reached into
one of several pouches hanging off of her belt loops began to sprinkle
a greenish powder over both of them. The printed pictures she held tightly
in her hand of two regular prison guards, at this time supposedly off-duty,
were tossed into the air as she mumbled the last word. Willow's eyes flew
open, pupils dilated to cover the majority of the white, and suddenly,
with a jolt, she collapsed.
"Willow!" Angel fell to his knees next to her, automatically checking her vitals. "Willow, are you all right?"
She appeared to be breathing, and her pulse was fine, Angel noted mentally.
But she wasn't waking up. "Willow!"
The red-haired witch didn't move.