[A/N: Apologies for the delayed updates the last few weeks. Having major league (and as yet unresolved) technical issues, resulting in upload failure and also lost work. Needless to say, we at Capt40 publishing are rather upset. Hopefully, this will be resolved soon, but until it is, we're probly looking at one update a week. – 40]
Willow twirled in a slow circle, letting the long black skirt parachute out around her.
"So, what do you think? Appropriate for a session with prospective in-laws?" Hermione, Ginny and Tara nodded.
"You look beautiful, Willow," Tara said. Willow had on a fuzzy white form-fitting sweater with the skirt, and a pair of silver hoop earrings borrowed from Tara. The sweater set off her eyes and hair perfectly, and the skirt had a print of a white flower that began at the bottom and ended at her knee.
"Where are you having dinner?" Hermione asked.
"The Whistling Swan. Do you know it?"
"Oh, the one in Diagon Alley?"
"Yeah, Gin."
"My parents went there for their twentieth anniversary. My mother talked about it for weeks. You'll love it," Ginny said wistfully, thinking of being somewhere like that with Harry.
"Should I wear regular robes? Or is this better? Grey said it was sort of mildly formal." Willow had no formal robes, so she had decided to switch to a muggle outfit.
"I think you'll be fine," Hermione said, scrunching her face in thought. "What's he wearing?"
"Blue," Ginny said. They laughed heartily. Grey's monochromatic wardrobe was still a source of great amusement to the ladies.
"I told him I had zero in the way of wizard finery, so he agreed to wear muggle clothing, too."
"There's your answer, hon," Tara said.
They heard a soft tapping at the door.
"Come in," Willow called. Grey stepped through the door and came over to kiss her on the cheek.
"You look lovely," he said simply. "Hey, everyone." They returned the greeting. Tara gave him an especially warm smile; though the initial awkwardness had not faded, each of them worked hard to make the other feel welcome.
"You don't look so bad yourself." Willow grasped his wrists in her hands and spread his arms to give him a once-over. He wore black dress slacks with a black blazer, and a light blue button-down shirt open at the neck. The lightsaber hung from his belt.
"Ready to go?" He lifted both of their arms above his head, twisted, and ended up with his arms around her.
She waited a moment to answer, reveling in feeling all of the tension disappear while he held her.
"Yup. Let's go dine with the 'rents."
Dinner passed quickly. Both of his parents complemented her on her appearance, despite the odd looks many of the other patrons gave her, and the conversation stayed light and pleasant. Afterwards, Willow and Grey bid them good night and decided to stop for a quick ice cream before returning to Hogwarts. They strolled down Diagon Alley hand in hand, enjoying the evening. Willow, her confidence waxing mightily, leaned over and kissed his cheek as they walked.
"What's that for?"
"Oh, you know. Just 'cuz." Her sweet smile melted him. "I'm kinda glad I met you, y'know."
"Well, I'm kinda glad I met you, too," he replied, mimicking her.
She smacked his arm playfully.
"You know I hate it when you do that."
"What?"
"Mock me, like a big dope."
"Oh, I'm a big dope?" He grabbed her around the waist and spun them both around. She squealed as her feet left the ground, and by the time he brought her back down, they were kissing.
"Will?"
"Uh huh?" She said dreamily.
"What's wrong with you lately?"
The airy expression vanished from her face as she took a step back.
"What do you mean?"
"You seem really nervous all the time. Is it about me?"
The silence lasted a little longer than it should have.
"What about me?"
"No, Grey, it's not. Well, it sorta is, but it's no big deal, I mean…"
He cut her off. He had a pretty good idea of what the problem was, since he had it to.
"It's Jess, isn't it? That she's not evil, just … trapped?"
Willow nodded, looking away. He pulled her close to him and stroked her hair. He had his own serious doubts about that topic, but now was not the time for them. Better to reassure her now and figure things out later.
"Will," he said, holding her at arm's length, "I know how you feel. I do. Even though I don't want to, I feel it sometimes when I see you with Tara. It's uncomfortable, and it sucks."
"I would never…"
"I know. I know. I don't think for a moment that you would." He pulled her in, putting them almost nose to nose, and stared into her luminous eyes from six inches away. "I'm with you. I'd rather die than hurt you, and I wouldn't be with you if I thought I might go back to her. It's okay to tell me if you're worried – nothing I say will make it permanently right until you see it come true, but I'll tell you as much as you like. It might help a little."
He slipped his arms further around her, enveloping her in his warmth. The hug became a hold, then turned into a tender kiss. She was about to go for broke when he pulled away, a look of shock and horror on his face.
"Willow, look out!" Grey screamed.
He saw the movement before it happened, just a flash of arm and a black blade. He shoved her away; his lightsaber igniting of its own accord in the path of a powerful strike. The alien blade struck again and then a third time, but Grey parried them both. His eyes, unable to follow the whirling colors, instead focused on the visions that rippled one after another through his brain. Each time his assailant launched an attack, Grey saw it first and the lightsaber responded. The meeting of the two blades filled the night with explosive concussions.
Behind Willow, a second attacker erupted with an ear-splitting roar and charged. Spinning at the noise, she flicked her wrist and muttered a short incantation. A shield of air appeared between them, momentarily halting his furious assault.
The enforced pause granted her time for a swift appraisal. He was larger than a normal man, nearly seven feet tall, and muscular under the black pants and shirt that coated him like a second skin. Wind from the shield billowed his black cape out, a dark ribbon slicing the air behind him.
His metal faceplate resembled a full version of the Phantom of the Opera mask, this one forged from silver. Behind it, clouds of dark energy swirled in place of flesh and bone. His black blade grew from a lightsaber similar to Grey's, this one carved from obsidian.
Calling easily on her power, Willow lifted off into the sky. The magic surged through her; for the first time in more than a year, the accompanying rush of anger remained a soft thrum instead of the usual clanging din. Her thoughts came clearly and she instinctively knew she could wield her power without fear of surrendering to it.
Below her, the visions of his opponent's attacks hit Grey like a sledgehammer. His body moved in response to them without conscious input. Trapped by the enchantment of his weapon, he parried the demon's skillful attacks with ease, but the magic prevented a thrust or a slash to break the rhythm. Noticing Grey's struggle, the dark warrior pressed harder and drove him back towards the buildings. Ten more feet, Grey realized, and he wouldn't be maneuvering anymore. He'd be shish kabob. Oblivious to the additional danger, the visions coaxed his body to retreat further.
Willow tossed a fireball; the second demon caught it on the blade easily and boomed a mocking laugh. Two bolts of pure energy brought the same result. She needed something he couldn't block; as a distraction, she froze some of the moisture in the air into a dozen jagged spikes of ice. He nimbly swiped the blade through the center of each, his mocking laughter still echoing inside her head.
Time to change tactics, she thought.
Lifting her arms over her head, she channeled her power and called for what she wanted.
"Listen up," she said to the monster, wishing Buffy could hear her quip. A strange whistling sound filled the air, gathering strength and focus at her fingertips. When she turned it loose, a solid sphere of pure sound blasted into the creature. Some of it caught on the lightsaber; the remainder impacted the evil beast directly, ripping it asunder with the whisper of tearing paper.
"Grey!" Her voice rolled along the same sound waves that mutilated her attacker. "Clear out!"
He heard her, and tried to obey. The visions kept coming, though, and he couldn't bring himself to resist them. The creature had him nearly against the wall; several quick slashes would provide some wiggle room, but Grey couldn't make them happen.
From above, Willow saw him nearly cornered and realized he couldn't escape. Reaching out with her magic, she grasped Grey and flung him across the street with a silent prayer for his safety. Then she landed between the other demon and her lover.
"What are you?"
"I am a Hunter, witch." The voice had the same booming tone of the dead one. "My lord wishes you dead, and I am happy to hunt you."
"So cliché," Willow said. "I am happy to hunt you? What is that?" Thank God for years of fighting with Buffy. "And what's with the mask? Shouldn't you be in a sewer somewhere?"
He didn't answer. Instead, the massive form rushed her with his blade extended. She pulled the earth from under him like a rug, tossing him into the air. Her mind held him aloft. She gradually increased the pressure, crushing him in a giant fist of magical power. From across the street, Grey marveled at the display and wondered silently if his next opponent would be Willow.
After ten agonizing seconds, the force squeezed the life from the creature, its time ending in an explosion of dark energy that Willow sloughed off into the atmosphere. Grey grabbed the lightsaber and went running over to her.
The first thing he saw was the eyes.
"Willow, your eyes…"
"Grey, it's okay, I'm…"
"They're green." He threw his arms around and clutched her to him. "It worked." He touched the necklace briefly with his index finger. "Didn't it?"
She nodded.
"I could feel the power, but I could do whatever I wanted. I didn't feel the urge to try and blast him apart."
"That's so great, Will." His smile lit up the night. "I hoped it might do that. I think if you draw on a ton of power, you might still have problems, though."
"We'll deal with that later," she said pensively. "What happened to you?"
"I could …" he paused, trying to translate the odd visions into words. "I could see the attacks before they happened. Right before they jumped us, I saw the slashing blade. The lightsaber responded to the visions, but it was beyond my control. I couldn't even attack, because every time I tried I saw his next move and countered it automatically."
"Why? Do you think that Hunter was causing it?"
"Don't know." He thought about it. "Maybe it's your power boost."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, before, it would guide my actions and anticipate threats, right?" She nodded. "Now, you and Tara made it more powerful. Instead of feeling the attacks, I can see them before they happen."
"Oh my god, Grey, I had no idea…"
He put a reassuring hand on her arm.
"Not your fault, Willow. Besides, I was perfectly safe. The blade moved so fast … I doubt he could have hit me. The spell definitely made me more skilled.
"We might need to tweak that a little, huh?"
"Maybe. If I could get control of it, it would be an almost unbeatable advantage."
"Not if some beastie gets all claw happy on you before you do, though."
"Good point. For the time being, we should probably remove it," he said, hoping not to offend her.
She nodded her agreement and grasped his lightsaber. The disc came loose with a small flash, and she tucked it away in her purse.
"What were those things?" She asked. "What's a Hunter?"
He sighed. "Until now? A myth. They've been in hiding since Voldemort fell, and people eventually convinced themselves that they didn't exist."
"Were they the aurors that went over to the Dark Side?"
"Originally, yes," Grey answered with a nod, "but Voldemort improved them, beefed them up and infused them with dark energy. Who knows whether they're the real ones, or just new ones he made? My father once told me that they would always fight to the death, that they worshipped Voldemort like a God."
"That's a little scary."
"Tell me about it. They're also fierce fighters. If not for the Viagra you gave to the enchantment, I doubt I could have stayed alive as long as I did. As it was he nearly beat me, and I've never moved so fast with any weapon in my life."
"We should get back," she said anxiously. "Giles and Dumbledore need to know about this. If one of those things comes to the school …" She let the rest go unsaid, and so did Grey.