8.
Buffy moved downstairs, face blank, eyes dark and empty. She moved almost on automatic pilot towards the lounge, sitting on the edge of the sofa, picking up the book her mother had discarded, laying it gently down on her lap and staring blindly at the pages. She saw nothing, heard nothing; for a time, her world was darkness.
When she roused, she had no idea how long she had been there. The lamp still burned behind her and the TV displayed yet another boring info-mercial as she finally saw it.
"Mom."
The word was a whisper of pain wrenched from her. Awkwardly she laid the book to one side and rose to her feet, checking for the time; she'd lost almost two hours in the shock of seeing Ripper - (she couldn't, now, think of him as Giles, not now she'd seen him – take her mother into the night. Face set, hard, ignoring the time, she picked up the phone.
"Hello?" Willow answered on the fifth ring, voice foggy with sleep.
Buffy hesitated. "Willow? Did I, uh, wake you?"
"Buffy? Oh, hi, no, I was – uh, well, yeah." Willow answered. "Are you OK? I mean, it's ah, late. Did something happen?"
Buffy's voice was grim when she replied. "We have a situation, Will. I need you and Xander and I need you both here, now. He, he was here," her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, struggling to find the words she needed, "was here. He, he, he's gone. He took her." Her voice was piteous.
"Angel was there? When? Took who?" Willow asked, baffled.
"No, Will! Not Angel – him. Giles. Ripper, now," Buffy snapped. "He's not Giles anymore. Giles is gone. We can't – can't think of him like that anymore. He's just another vamp, now. But – he took her. My Mom."
"God, no, Buffy. I'll be right there. Don't move!" Willow assured her. "I'm coming over right now!" She put down the phone and stood quietly in the middle of her room for a moment before moving.
She hurriedly threw on her coat, packed up her laptop – just in case – and as quietly as possible slid open her window, hesitating at the brink of climbing out, glancing fearfully at the door. Sneaking out of the house at night was not something that Willow did and even now, knowing that Joyce was at the mercy of two vampires, she paused, waiting for her mother to open the door and demand to know what she was doing.
"Buffy needs you. Now come on!" she whispered to herself; and climbed out onto the ledge, the case containing her laptop gripped for dear life. Turning, she eased the window closed and jumped down carefully to the ground, hurrying away towards Buffy with one last glance at the house, slinging the case over her shoulder as she ran.
* * *
When Spike stepped out in front of her, she screamed, hands flying to her chest. He threw up both hands, palms forwards, then saw a light flick on in a house to their left. He lunged forwards and grabbed her, lifting her easily off the ground as he hustled into the shadows and away from anyone who might come to see what was happening.
"Bloody shut up!" He hissed in her ear, exasperation clear in his tone as he gripped her arms and shook her slightly. "I'm not going to bloody hurt you, but I will if you don't stop that noise! I told the Slayer I'd help you so here I am. Well, it's actually more that she can help me. Now bloody well shut up!" He locked his hand firmly over her mouth to muffle the noise, waiting until she decided that she needed to breathe. "Are you going to be quiet now?" he said. When she nodded he grudgingly took his hand away and stepped back, eyeing her with interest. Willow blushed as she became aware that she was wearing fluffy bunny slippers and pyjamas with a sweatshirt and a coat thrown on over the top. Defiantly she tilted her chin up and stared at him.
"Where are you running off to then, Red? Bit late for you to be out alone, specially dressed like that. Toothsome little thing, you are. Might run into some – people - who are less friendly than me." He paused and grinned at her, idly taking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting up. He blew a plume of blue smoke up into the air. "Wouldn't be to help the Slayer, would it?"
"What do you mean?" Willow said carefully, playing dumb.
"Well." He eyed her, squinting speculatively through the smoke at her. "I mean, are you rushing off to help her get her mother – Joyce, you know? – back? From the ex-Watcher. Sodding ponce."
"What do you know about that?" Willow demanded breathlessly.
He shrugged idly and took another drag on the cigarette. "Oh, you know. This and that. Happens I saw him, sort of thing. Being all evil and vampirey. All grrrrr and fang. Fireman's lift and all that."
Unthinking Willow stepped forwards and took hold of his arm, trying to pull him after her. "Well, come on! We have to help Buffy!"
The blond vampire didn't move, simply arching a brow and staring pointedly down at her hand on his black coat. Willow let her hand drop and stared at him defiantly. "And what makes you think that I want to help the Slayer just yet? There're more important things going on than that bloody ex-Watcher and his demon lover pinching her mother, you know," he said.
Willow shook her head and began to walk away, guessing that he would let her go – or follow her. "Not to Buffy," she spat over her shoulder. "If you're coming, fine. If not – well, I wouldn't want to be you when she finds out you could have helped – and didn't."
The blond vampire watched her move away for a moment, flicked his still lit cigarette into the shadows, then hastened after her.
"Now, don't be hasty, Red!" he called. "Didn't say I wouldn't help, did I? Just said there were – other things going on. Like Angelus wanting to kill the whole world and everything in it by making it a BIG hell on earth…. I don't like that idea and I want to stop him. And I can help the Slayer do it – but I need her help for something."
Willow stopped walking for a moment and swung round. "You – YOU? – need Buffy's help? she said incredulously.
"Well, yeah," Spike said. He looked at her for a moment then dropped his gaze back to the floor. "I'll help her stop Angelus – if she lets us go. You know, no dusting or setting on fire. Or killing in any other inventive sodding way she might be able to think of."
Willow looked at him blankly, face questioning. "Us?"
"Me and Dru, stupid!" he snapped. "I help her stop the end of the world, she lets us go. Know it's against the whole Slayer thing and all that, but – well. I'm sure she'll see my point of view." He smiled suddenly, revealing two sharp fangs that were far too pointed for Willow's comfort. "And now I have an extra bargaining chip. I know where the teacher and the Watcher are hiding – I know where they'll have Joyce. And I bet I know what they want in exchange for her life."
"What?" Willow asked, starting to walk away again.
"Same as what me and Dru want. You know - to leave Sunnydale – in one piece."