As they were nearly fleeing from the place where the body was, it clicked in Willow's mind. London, WhiteChapel, the year eighteen eighty-eight, the mutilated and disemboweled woman on her bed. Jack the Ripper, one of the most notorious serial killers in history. The realization emerged in a harsh and nervous whisper. "That... the Ripper. I landed right in the time of the Ripper. Oh, God, what did I do to deserve this... the Ripper... that poor woman."
"He's getting more creative, luv. That wasn't the first tart he's taken out, and she probably won't be the last. Police are finally starting to look or him, he's getting more... creative about his work." William's voice was tight, as if he was attempting to reign in his own feelings about the body, to remind himself that as a vampire, he reveled in violence and bloodshed.
"I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be in England, let alone in London. This isn't even the right century! And right into the spree of a homicidal maniac... I guess this was to keep me from missing home too much. Wait, you said not the first, and he's getting more creative? Has there been a pattern? Anything that the victims all had in common?" Willow was trying to make herself think, hoping that if she forced herself to think logically, it would help lessen the panic. She was homeless in London during the panic of Jack the Ripper! With no resources, no allies, no friends, oh, she was certain that she was in trouble.
"You cast a spell and tossed your little backside across the channel and out of the proper century? Are you... What in the bloody hell sort of witch are you? Are you even capable of finding Dru?" William's voice was shocked, appalled, and a little bit dismayed.
"I think I mistranslated the Greek. Or maybe it was just being over the Hellmouth. I can cast a locating spell for someone, that's easy. I can do binding spells and fireballs. I even brought someone back from Hell! I can cast a spell to find your crazy girlfriend! The last thing I need right now is for someone to question my capability at magic! I already know I have the figure of a child, and the appeal of a dusty old book, but at least give me the courtesy of assuming that I can do something right!" Willow was nearly shouting at the end, hot angry tears, tears of pain and grief at Oz's betrayal and abandonment, of years of being passed over, of rejection and grief streaming down her face and dripping onto the front of the borrowed coat. The inherent danger in yelling at an unchipped soulless vampire who's only reason for not killing her was the thought that she might be more useful alive didn't quite register at the moment.
William turned to look at her, his blue eyes softening slightly as he looked at her, standing there in the chilly fog, looking small and lost inside his coat, tears of built up pain and frustration and grief running down her face. "What happened? Nobody ends up this far from home just entirely by accident."
Willow brushed the tears from her cheeks, aware that they would just be replaced by more in moments. "I had a boyfriend. Yeah, he was a werewolf, but he was still a pretty nice guy. I thought that everything was good, until he saw HER. She was a singer for this other band, and it turned out that she was also a werewolf, and they got loose while they were all wolfy, and then there they were all naked and together and he... he had sex with her. Then she tried to kill me, and he changed, and he killed her instead, only then he almost ate me, except that Buffy got him with the sedative, and then he just... left town. He couldn't even bother to say goodbye, he just... ran away. I wasn't even worth a goodbye from him. And I'm supposed to just be over it, because it happened a few weeks ago, and nobody's wanted to hear about how much it hurts for almost two weeks. He was the only guy that ever seemed to want me, and he's gone, and nobody else will ever want me except as a study buddy, and I can't live like this anymore. I can't deal with this pain, and it isn't going away. So, since everyone wanted me to find a way to stop dragging everyone else into a miserable mood, I was going to do a little spell. I wanted it to help me move past my time of pain. Now, I'm in London, in the wrong damn century!"
She found herself sobbing onto William's shoulder, hot tears scalding her cheeks, her eyes burning from the pain and frustration, and the misery of it all. Oz had vanished, and everyone just wanted her to magically get over it, because her pain was ruining their days. It had helped just to have someone willing to listen, but the only person willing to do that back in Sunnydale... was actually the same person that she was sobbing on now. The only glimmerings of comfort that she'd received had come from a soulless killer, a vampire that had killed hundreds of mortals, had even contemplated having her for dinner. Not her friends, not her parents, but someone that was supposed to be her mortal, or would that be immortal enemy.
He just held her, his arm around her back, and listened as she told the sad story, let her tears soak into his shirt. His hand rubbed small circles over her back, just as he would have done for his ripe wicked plum. He listened, and offered the support of a shoulder, the release of tears.
"Sounds like you really need a better class of friends, luv. The ones you have apparently haven't figured out that friendship goes both ways. They lean on you, but a real friend will let you lean on them." He managed to produce a handkerchief from one of the jacket pockets, and wiped the tears from her face before tucking it back into the pocket that it had emerged from. "Do you feel any better now?"
Willow looked at him, sniffling slightly as her tears faded, her eyes feeling hot and scratchy from crying. She felt almost empty inside now, instead of filled with pain and bitter despair. "Actually, I think I do feel better. Not good, but better than I was."
He flashed a cocky grin at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, something intense and primal and undecipherable. "Now, just remember a few things, luv. First, the damn wolf was an idiot if he left you behind. Second, you're passionate and when you landed on me I could tell that you have a decent figure on you. You can find someone else that will want you, hopefully someone that will cherish you and take care of you the way you deserve, someone that won't expect you to always be the strong one."
Willow gave him a shaky smile, one as fragile as blown glass. "Don't we have a vampire to locate? And you are going to tell me about the previous... the Ripper's earlier efforts. I think... if I'm here, there has to be a reason."
Amazingly, her green locator spell had remained through her tears and shouting, and was hovering, almost conveying an impression of impatience. They resumed moving, following the globe through the streets, trying to avoid stepping on anything to nasty. They were going deeper into the bad section of town, into the area where a scream in the darkness was so common that nobody would bother to check, where nobody cared if you died unless you owed them money. All in search of an insane vampire that had tried to kill Willow, although that had been more of a minor detail than anything personal.
William gave her a small smile of his own, and offered her his arm as they walked. "Well, the first person that this Ripper fellow claimed credit for was a chit called Polly Nichols. I also heard a rumor that she was having an affair with this one vampire I know, not sure about that one though. Anyhow, her body was found in an alley, throat slashed, so was her stomach. Not much blood though."
"Not much blood? And her throat was slashed? Maybe right over the artery? umm... William? Was there much blood found on the other victims? I mean... other than that woman in..." Willow's voice trailed off and she shuddered, not from the cool air, but from the impressions of the mayhem that she had of the little room, both from movies and William's reaction.
"I didn't see the bodies, luv. But, the papers said it was over the artery. There hasn't been a lot of blood found with the other bodies either. All cheap tarts, the sort that nobody really misses, on account of there's always more. Come to think of it, they all had dark hair."
"Okay, so we have a tentative victim profile, dark haired women, people that nobody would miss, and easy, umm... meaning that they would just go off with some random guy. As for the lack of blood, living over the Hellmouth makes me think that this guy might be some sort of vampire or demon. ohh... you don't think... he's not... eating the insides?" Willow's face had paled at the thought, and her expression was almost pleading as she looked at William.
"I really don't know. Some of the letters said he was. But yeah, all dark haired chits going off with strange blokes in the middle of the night." His voice was low, as if he didn't want to draw attention to them.
Willow shuddered again. "Ew. That's just... icky. Sounds like either some sort of night stalking baddie to me, or else a guy with really, really severe mental problems."
William chuckled, an almost friendly sound. "Red, you have quite the way of describing things."
end part 7.
While William and Willow were discussing the gruesome details of the Ripper killings, Arthur Giles of the Watcher's Council was making some preparations of his own. He was quite firmly of the belief that witches were evil, just as vampires and demons were. That they were a menace and plague upon the populace, and should be eliminated for the protection of all people. In his mind, they were not that much different from demons, and often just as tricky. He had searched the Watcher's archives, finding many examples of witches and sorcerers causing trouble, summoning vile demons, casting curses, unleashing terrible forces. Really, wouldn't it be best to kill them as soon as possible, before they unleashed some terrible evil?
He was careful in his preparations though. He alerted a few of the other Watchers, informing them that he had spotted a witch, one that had been working in conjunction with a vampire, and that he was attempting to eliminate them both. His idea was that this way, if he failed, there would be others that would follow, possibly to avenge him, but at least to kill the dangers that he had discovered. The fact that he had been able to give a good description should make it easier, although that section of London was a nightmare warren of buildings and tunnels and unsafe buildings. God alone knew how many dangers could be dwelling in there, or how many of them were working with the red haired witch and her brown haired vampire.
He found a crossbow, something lethal to witch and vampire alike, and set out into the night. With a bit of luck, he would be able to find them, to kill at least one of them tonight. He had very carefully carved crosses onto the bolts for his crossbow, uncertain if they would actually make them more lethal to vampires or not, but it had made him feel better.
With some caution and a warm coat, he set off, hoping to be able to make London that much safer tonight. Toe rid the city of one more dreadful parasite, something existing on the suffering and death of the common people. Watchers were supposed to do more than observe, they were sometimes the only defense an area had. If he remembered correctly, the current Slayer was in Japan, extremely far from London and any of the dangers to the people here. So, the Watchers would have to stand in, to kill the demons and vampires. Part of him was terrified, but if not him, then who would go after them?
He had no way of knowing just how dangerous some of the things that stalked the streets this night actually were. He had considered the idea of vampires, of several sorts of demons, and even from common muggers. But he hadn't considered the idea of a mind twisted into feral insanity, a mind that had sunk below even the level of predatory excess considered acceptable among demons and vampires. There was no way that he could have prepared himself.
In WhiteChapel, William had finished detailing the bodies that the police had found, and mentioned a few others that had been found by some of the demon community, similarly mutilated, always dark haired women, the sort he called tarts, and all of them had dark hair. They had also all been killed during the night, many around three or four in the morning.
A sudden thought occurred to Willow, one that she worried would upset William. "umm... William? How does Dru normally hunt? I mean, what are her tactics?"
He smiled fondly, clearly thinking about all the times he had gone hunting with his lover. "She smiles all soft and helpless like at a bloke, makes him think she's this sweet and helpless little bird, and then when she gets him alone, there he is, and nobody can help him. The sudden change always makes them afraid, tastes sweet. Nothing like the combination of fear, denial, and some bloke who thought he was going to get... well, it's a very effective plan."
"Ummm.... she's going into Whitechapel to do this? Dru, with her dark hair, is going to be luring men off for what they think is a quickie, in the area where someone has been killing dark haired tarts?"
William suddenly turned, his eyes golden and furious, in full vampire visage. His hand was around Willow's throat, and he had her shoved against a wall, her feet dangling a few inches from the ground. "DON'T INSULT HER!!! She's my dark goddess, my world, and I'm not going to let some little mortal chit insult her!"
Fear surged through her, and Willow gasped for breath. "Not... trying to insult her. Just... she could be in... danger from the... Ripper."
His eyes grew wide, and he suddenly released her, causing Willow to fall to the cobblestones in a heap. "Oh bloody hell... you're right. She's a pretty dark haired thing, and all the others had dark hair. We have to find her!"
Slowly, Willow picked herself up from the cobblestones, trying to brush off any dirt or... whatever that might have stuck itself to her clothing when she had landed. She winced as she felt new bruises, and made a mental note to herself not to insult Dru, even if she was a crazy, skanky... no, best not to go there. "If the Ripper is some sort of vamp or demon, she might not be able to fight him off, although he's probably... not hungry or whatever anymore, not considering..."
"Considering that woman earlier, right. So, we have a little time. I still want to find her, she..."
"She's your everything. Your eternal love, the person you want to be with forever. I know. It was... mentioned in my proper time, in the Nineteen Nineties, and then again in Two Thousand and One. Dru being your everything... that even came up before the whole Slayers thing." Willow was looking around for the little globe, and so she missed the surprised expression that crossed William's face.
"You're from the future? Over a hundred years in the future? And I'm still... what was that about Slayers?" The curiosity in his voice was almost tangible.
"Yeah. Two Thousand one, and I'm in college, over the Hellmouth. You and Dru showed up there, and Giles, umm... he's a Watcher, but he was freaking out because you'd killed two Slayers already..." Willow moved slightly, peering through the darkness. "Aha! There's the little seeking globe. She's that way."
"Two Slayers? I kill two Slayers between now and then? Sounds good. What about Dru?"
"umm.... she got Kendra. She did this... mind control thingy, and just slit her throat right open. Creepy. Well, probably a big accomplishment for a vampire, but it was really freaky to watch. I was stuck under a bookcase at the time, and you know, not even a single stupid minion tried to go after me? Further proof of my lack of appeal." Willow sighed, shaking her head slightly. "And now I know I have problems, because I'm complaining that nobody even wants to bite me. That's normally a good thing... I'm going to be one of those crazy old ladies that lives in a house with a horde of cats and talks to herself..."
Willow missed the amused expression that settled onto William's face. She was too busy following the globe to try to find his precious Dru.
end part 8.
* Sunnydale, 2001 (Season 4, original time) *
Spike had woke up, his day spent in impossible dreams of HER, to be reminded of the harsh reality. Reality where she wasn't his, where he was reminded that the nights of intense passion that they had existed only in his own mind. Reminded that she wouldn't think of him like that, would never lower herself to go to bed with a demon, a vampire. As had become normal, his body was in a state of frustrated longing, tormented by his desire for HER, his glorious new goddess, the one that filled his dreams with herself, driving away any thoughts or longings for Dru, the tormented vampiress that had been his whole world for well over a century. She had claimed his heart and passion for herself, burning her claim into him, and she didn't even know it, hadn't done anything to cause it. She had just been herself, her glorious, wonderful self. A passionate woman that he didn't think he'd ever met in his waking life, yet seemed so familiar that he should be able to reach out and find her next to him…
Something had been done that had left him unable to feed, and he was stuck in the Watcher's bathtub, chained up like... but he wasn't chained up. There was a faint hint of Willow's scent in the air, and his chains had been unlocked. A large cooler was sitting under the sink, and he suspected that it would be at least partly filled with blood for him. The bathroom was yet another reminder that his dreams were not reality, in his dreams, he dwelled with HER in a place of splendor and luxury, somewhere worthy of HER, his dream beloved. The woman that he could never have, and could hardly bring himself to think of when awake.
He climbed out of the tub, stretching his muscles. He combed out his hair, and opened the chest, discovering that it was nearly full of blood. He was able to feed well, and there was still a generous supply. It was almost too generous a supply. She was normally pretty good about bringing him enough to eat, but this was far more than she usually brought. He didn't recall her saying anything about going out of town for the weekend.
Now puzzled, Spike carefully emerged from the bathroom. The apartment was silent; the only sounds his own footsteps and the faint hum of the refrigerator. The television was turned off. No radio played, no humming of music or faint turning of pages. That didn't seem right. He listened, extending his senses as far as possible... listening for the faintest sound of life.
The neighbor in the next house over had a pair of small animals, perhaps cats, currently running through the upstairs. News played in the next apartment, and there was a single heartbeat over there, an adult male. Giles' apartment was empty, not a single living creature, only his own presence, and a lingering scent of candle-wax and herbs.
He collapsed into the chair, suddenly realizing what must have happened. Willow had been here, had cast a spell using candles and herbs, and now she wasn't here anymore. Had she simply left the apartment? Vanished as a result of her spell? Where was she? Who would he have to talk to? He would miss Willow if something had happened to her; she was the only one that would really talk to him. The pang of worried sorrow was joined by something else, and a bit more selfish. Without Willow, would anyone bother to remember to feed him?
The door rattled, and swung open, the rustling of paper and a low English voice cursing 'confounded packages and bundles' and cursing the deterioration of his body with the passing of time. Giles came through the door, placing an armload of bundles, boxes and books on the table. He glanced up and around before realizing that Spike was not supposed to be roaming loose in his house.
"What are you doing free? Where's Willow?" Giles' voice carried suspicion and concern.
"Unlike the rest of you, Red likes me. She lets me out of the chains. Normally, I'm awake when she gets here, and there's a little conversation where I ask her to let me loose and she tells me to behave. Tonight, I woke up, the cuffs were off, ankles loose, and there was a cooler of blood for me under the sink. I haven't seen Red anywhere, but I know she was here." Spike's voice was determinedly neutral. If the Watcher had the idea that Willow mattered to him in any way, it would probably hurt Spike's chances for... what? What exactly was he hoping that the Watcher wouldn't interfere with? He knew that there would be nothing happening between himself and Willow, she was still torn up inside from the Wolf leaving. He knew her pain, understood it down to his bones, and he hurt with her, bled inside along with her, and couldn't understand how her 'friends' could be blind enough to miss it.
"How do you know that Willow was here? Do you have any idea where she is now?" Giles was obviously worried about her.
"I could smell her scent in the bathroom, so I know that she was here. There's also a hint of candle wax in the air, and some herbs. I... there was something I said to her the other day. Something about maybe there was a spell to help her get over mutt-boy. I think she tried something. No idea if she cast and walked out, or if something went odd and she just vanished." His voice wasn't quite as neutral as Spike had hoped, betraying his concern for Willow.
Giles stood there, his expression thoughtful and worried. "She must have decided to cast it in the basement, I can't think of anywhere else big enough for a casting that I wouldn't have seen by now..." The Watcher turned, facing the bookshelves, and his gaze fell on the pair of books that Willow had placed on the table earlier that day, her pages of careful notes peeking slightly from the cover of the brown one.
"I didn't leave any books on that table." The words emerged slowly, as if Giles had a bad feeling about the books. Slowly, he walked closer to them, opening the one with her notes cautiously.
Giles looked over the pages, and a puzzled frown crossed his face. "This seems fairly straight forward... a petition to ask a request of certain benevolent and neutral beings. It shouldn't have harmed her..."
Spike felt dread seep into his body, and suspicion began to gnaw at him. "What was her petition?"
Flipping through the pages with careful documentation of the ritual, Giles looked for the relevant information. "Hmm... The petition is to be presented in Greek... I don't think Willow is terribly proficient in Greek. Ah, here is her phrasing, in English. She has 'help me move from this time of pain' which does sound as if she wanted assistance recovering from Oz. But that still doesn't explain where she is..."
"You said Greek wasn't her best language. How does the petition read in Greek? If she got the translation off, that could change the whole meaning." Spike spoke from the couch, mentally cursing the sunlight that fell over the table, the sunlight that prevented him from looking over the pages himself. He also began something that he hadn't done in almost two hundred years; he began to pray to any power that might listen to him that Willow would be safe.
"Oh dear."
Spike had learned to dread those words from Giles. "What? What do you mean 'oh dear'? What does it say? What happened to Willow?!?"
Giles looked at Spike, puzzlement for Spike's reaction warring on his features with concern for his findings. "The Greek, properly translated, reads 'help remove me from this time of pains.' I think... I think that Willow has accidentally removed herself from this time, most likely to a different point in time, perhaps the past, possibly the future."
"WHAT!!! She's accidentally moved herself out of this time?!? How do we bring her back? There has to be something that can be done about this. I... you people need Willow." Spike's features flickered from human to vampire from the intensity of his emotions.
Willow was gone from this time... not stuck grieving for her broken heart, not gone somewhere in the sunlight, but GONE. She was in some other time, probably a dangerous time. Some time where nobody would realize how special she was, how brave and resourceful. A time when her power would only lead to pain and danger to her, instead of respect and admiration. A time when she could be hurt, or even killed, and he wouldn't even know.
"Yes, there must be a way to bring her back. Something that can be done to retrieve her, to bring her back to us. I will have to start looking... perhaps you could be of some assistance?" Giles was worried, perhaps thinking of all the dangers that could befall Willow in some other time.
"Yeah, just pass me something. There's a lethal patch of sunshine between me and the books. If it's any help, I can read the Greek. Latin, Chinese, French and Russian as well, I tried to pick up the local language if we stayed anywhere very long." Spike was worried. Willow was gone, and they had no idea where or even when she was.
There were just some days that it would be more enjoyable to sleep through, and this was shaping up to be one of them.
end part 9.
Willow was trying to concentrate on searching for Drusilla, really she was. Unfortunately, her subconscious had other ideas. She was still following the green locator globe, and she was aware of William slightly to her left, but her mind wasn't focused on the streets and back allies of London. Nor was she even contemplating the gruesome work of the serial killer known as the Ripper. That would have been relevant. She wasn't contemplating how to get back to her proper time either.
No, Willow was contemplating Chaos demons, Fungus demons, and Angelus. Chaos demons came in two varieties, the 'lesser chaos demon', which resembled Lurch from the Addams family, crowned with an impressive rack of antlers that secreted a mildly acidic slime, and the 'greater chaos demon' which more closely resembled a centaur with the lower limbs of something like a deer, with taloned feet, and a slightly muzzle-like mouth of fangs below slime covered antlers, creating a result that was both fearsome and disgusting. There were very detailed illustrations in some of Giles' books. Fungus demons looked as if they were professional basketball players whose skin had been replaced with a pale tan leathery substance that had lumps and growths resembling mushrooms all over it, and some of them also had slime, while others released a powdery substance that caused choking and coughing from anyone near them. Again with the verdict of 'eeeuuuw'. Angelus... well, he had looked far more appealing than a chaos or fungus demon, so she could actually understand why Dru might have been attracted to Angelus. But what on earth could she have seen in a chaos demon? Or a fungus demon? Why would she want something all gross and slimy when she had William? Willow found herself concluding that it had to be because Dru was insane, that had to be the only reason why someone would ditch Spike... err, William for a chaos demon.
"Never in a million years... eternal chastity sounds better." Willow didn't even realize that the words had been spoken out loud.
"Better than what, Red?" William's query was proof that the words had been out loud.
"ummm...." Willow knew that she couldn't explain the whole reason behind her fractured statement. But he would insist on an answer, and she had to have one that wouldn't sound like an outright lie. "I was just... thinking about this rumor that I'd heard back... home. There was something about a vampire having an affair with a Chaos demon... and, eeuuwww, gross! All slime and antlers. Eternal chastity sounds far better. But, I mean, there had to have been some sort of reason, right?"
"You really heard a rumor about someone having an affair with a bloody chaos demon?!? You wouldn't lie about that, would you?"
"Really! With my own ears I heard him say it! This one vamp said another vamp that he knew had took up with a chaos demon, all slime and antlers! I really truly heard him say it, and he... I don't think he was lying. I just can't figure out the attraction. I mean... gross." Willow could feel herself getting a bit nervous again. William had been showing a tendency to half choke her against walls if she said the wrong thing, she didn't want a third occurrence.
"Gross... if that means vile, slime covered and disgusting, then I suppose that would be a good word for them. Some of them are supposed to have powerful psychic abilities. Others are supposed to be able to enhance someone's power. I still don't think it's enough to climb into bed with one, but there are probably some ambitious types out there who think it would be worth it." William's voice was thoughtful, and clearly conveyed his distaste for the idea of someone being intimate with a chaos demon.
"Umm... William? Do you have any idea why some vampires look really ugly with their vampire faces on, and others don't look bad at all? I mean..." Willow could feel herself blushing. "You don't look bad with your fangs, although I've mostly seen you angry. Angelus didn't look unattractive; he was just threatening death and destruction. Darla and Dru didn't look bad either, although they're really not my type. I mean, yeah, bad as in scary dangerous vampires, but not bad as in ugly. That would be the Master, or even worse, Kakistos, who looked really horrible. The Master's guy Luke looked pretty bad with his vampire face on, although I didn't see him looking human, so maybe he was just ugly to begin with... and I'm babbling again, aren't I?"
William chuckled. "You've been keeping a list of cute vampires, have you? The Master is powerful, don't ever forget that Red. But no, he isn't going to get too much done with his good looks. Sometimes it just age, sometimes people just look bad no matter what. Had someone tell me once that it was a reflection of the insides of you; the worse you are inside, the scarier you look outside when you vamp out. Said it was a sign of power and potential."
"That can't be right. Darla and Angelus were both in the Watcher's journals as big scary threats, and they both looked good as vamps. You've taken... or will take... or something... two Slayers, and you don't look bad. Luke, as far as the books could say, he got one Slayer, was the Master's trusted lieutenant, and was not at all attractive. But a lot of minions are not only slightly smarter than dirt, but also fairly ugly. So it can't be that capable vampires are ugly, and pretty vampires are decorative fluff."
"I suppose that's a good point, about the minions. Who knows? Maybe it has nothing to do with capabilities. Maybe it's just chance. Anyone ever tell you that you think about the strangest things?"
Willow sighed. "All the time. That and everyone telling me I have to many thoughts."
He was still laughing about the idea of someone having to many thoughts when the crossbow bolt caught him in the shoulder. The bolt burned, causing his flesh to smoke where it touched, and he roared with pain, staggering slightly from the impact. The laughter was gone, and he was entirely vampire, and furious.
Willow's eyes were wide and worried, as she scanned the rooftops along the opposite side of the street for the sniper. She spoke a few words, and a crackling globe of green fog began to gather in her hand, clearly preparation for something. Finally, Willow thought that she saw movement on the rooftop. "There, I think I see something..."
Growling, William headed for the building that the motion had been on, scaling the uneven side easily, his movements reminding Willow just how much vampires really were predatory, that no matter how human he might look, he wasn't. That Spike wasn't human, no matter how human-like he might seem at times. No matter how much he listened.
A second crossbow bolt came from the rooftop, this one hitting Willow in her leg, the pain radiating through her in hot waves. She gasped, nearly falling to the ground from the pain, and whispered a quick spell to numb the pain, the energies from her gathered fog wavering. Crying out, she hurled the fog towards the roof, hoping that it would hit whoever had shot her, hoping that there would be some sort of answer as to who, what, why she had been shot. She didn't have enemies in this time... she hadn't even met anyone besides William!
Meanwhile, William had reached the roof, and charged at the man holding the crossbow, fangs bared and growling. The man with the crossbow seemed human, and was dressed a bit better than normal for this area. Seeing William, he turned, attempting to flee, but a green swirl enveloped him, slowing his movements, making him clumsy. William grabbed at the man, intending to rip him into shreds. The man ducked, leaving William holding a fistful of coat sleeve, a few drops of blood on his claws from shallow slashes over the man's arm. William lunged after the sniper again, and the mortal dodged, slipping on the sloping roof, sliding down a bit before hitting a weak point, the roof collapsing under him, dropping him into a cluttered attic filled with an odd assortment of boxes and crates and strangely shaped things. William tried to leap after him, and encountered a barrier, an indication that he had not been invited into the building, that someone lived inside. He glared at the mortal, memorizing his face so that he would be able to find and kill him later. Concluding that the mortal was not about to emerge from the attic, William left the hole, climbing down the side of the building more carefully.
"Red? You're bleeding..." His voice had the slightly deeper tone that told her that he was still vamped out.
"Yeah." Her words were barely more than a whisper, and her head was spinning from pain, possibly from the blood loss or shock, although her jeans weren't too bloody. "He fired a second shot."
"oh, hell... let me pull that out..." William reached forward, the motion causing the bolt still in his shoulder to pull, the new pain making him growl.
"You first. My wound, the bolt might be all that's keeping it from bleeding more. Besides, your's is umm… smoking. Hang on, this is going to hurt." She reached out, one hand wrapping over the bloody bolt in his shoulder, the other pressing on his chest just under the wound, apparently heedless of the fact that she was putting her hands on his blood. She gave a sharp pull with one hand, and pushed him back with the other, and as William roared in pain again, the bolt pulled loose with a slight sucking noise. Willow staggered a bit, her face growing a bit paler as a line of intense pain shot up her leg from the motion..
"Bloody... that hurt. Your turn. I'll pull it out, you be ready to put pressure on if it bleeds more." His voice was almost even, his features still vampiric.
He waited for Willow's nod before gripping the bolt, growling as his hands touched the wood, feeling the crosses carved into it burning his hand. He pulled the bolt harshly, ignoring Willow's gasp as it left her leg. She pressed her hands, still covered with his blood onto the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.
"Let me help you with that..." William lowered his head to the wound, licking at the blood that flowed.
Willow twitched slightly, years of living on the Hellmouth protesting this, telling her that the last thing to permit near a bleeding wound was a vampire. But it felt almost... good. The feeling of his lips on her flesh, his tongue sliding over her skin... it sent shivers through her body, dark naughty shivers. "I'm hoping that I don't go into shock... to much blood loss could do that."
Willow decided not to worry about it. If he was actually intending to help tend her wound, why should she object? Besides, as far as the Watcher journals went, vampire bites rarely got infected, maybe there was some sort of anti-bacterial agent? It felt so nice, pleasant and sending those delightful shivers through her. Besides, what did she have to live for right now? Her friends didn't have time for her, her boyfriend... Oz was gone. The only person that even cared a little was Spike. Spike would recover, assuming that he even missed her. She wouldn't have cared if Spike had killed her in the dorm room. She didn't have any more to live for now. At least, if she was going to die, it would be at the hands... teeth? tongue? of an attractive vampire.
She felt a small smile on her face. Shivering slightly, she wondered why she felt so cold, and then everything spun slowly into darkness.
end part 10.
Willow woke up, her leg throbbing with dull pain, the tension of bandages around it. She could feel bruises on her back, undoubtedly from William pushing her into those walls last night. He had some anger issues that he should really talk to someone about, preferably someone that didn't bruise. It then occurred to Willow what all this actually meant. She was still alive.
She was alive, which meant that William hadn't killed her, hadn't drank her blood down to the last drop. Maybe it was just because she could still help him find Drusilla? Or maybe... maybe he just wasn't hungry, or she had tasted bad or something. She really didn't know, but she was fairly certain that most people would just be glad about surviving, instead of trying to figure out why.
Carefully, Willow sat up, her head feeling as if the world was spinning around her as she moved. She stopped, trying to make everything feel better, trying to think through the dizziness. It had to be from the blood loss, because the wound didn't feel as if there had been any sort of poison. So, she felt bad because she had a hole in her leg, and had lost a fair amount of blood through it, and had traipsed on foot through the cold air. Blood loss and exertion, and she hadn't really been eating very well before her little trip, so that might have contributed.
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the healing spell that she had learned to try to help Buffy with her patrols. Buffy hadn't wanted it cast on her very often, claiming that Slayer healing would take care of things, but... maybe Buffy just hadn't trusted Willow's magic. She had used it on herself, as well as Xander and Giles on numerous occasions when they had been bruised or cut by some nasty creature. She placed her hand over the injury, the slight pressure making the wound throb painfully, and spoke the words, a short phrase in Latin. She felt warmth flow into the wound, and the throbbing faded away. It still hurt, and there would still be bruising, but no more gaping open wound. It occurred to her that maybe she should use it on William, after all, he had been injured as well.
The first problem with that idea was that she had no idea where he was, for that matter, she wasn't entirely certain where she was. She had been laying on a brown couch in what appeared to be some sort of sitting room, with heavy curtains, presumably over a window. There was a single door, closed. There was a dome covered tray on the small table, and when she opened it, there was a loaf of dark bread, a chunk of cheese, and a pair of small apples, and a note with a familiar scrawl 'eat up Red, you must be starving - W' letting her know that William had been responsible for the food. Obviously, he had brought her here last night, after they had been shot.
Willow ate some of the bread and cheese, as well as one of the apples. Carefully, she put the other apple and the rest of the bread into the pocket of her borrowed coat for later. Last night had reminded her that all night food places were a recent invention, and they didn't really have them in the late eighteen hundreds. Yet another reason to return to her own time if she could.
Moving slowly due to the stiffness that was still in her leg, she moved to the door, discovering that it was unlocked. There was a hallway, and no sign of any people, human or otherwise. Shaking her head slightly, she cast the locator spell, set to lead her to William, and began following it down the hall, up a staircase, and down another hall to a door. Listening, there was only silence from the other side, so if she opened the door, at least she wouldn't be interrupting anything. Carefully, Willow turned the handle, and the door opened, showing a dark room with a narrow bed and a small table. William was in the bed, his clothing dropped on the floor near the foot of the bed. He had apparently tossed in his sleep, and she could see his bare chest and arms, and almost all of one pale, naked leg revealed by the rumpled covers. He looked so still, the wound raw and angry on his shoulder.
She found herself moving closer, almost as if she was being drawn to him. Carefully, she brushed one soft lock of brown hair from his face. William didn't move, didn't twitch or even breathe. She put her fingers very lightly on the wound, barely touching at all, and whispered the incantation, concentrating on helping him to heal, speeding the closing of the wound and the repair of the torn muscles. A greenish gold glow spread over the wound, sinking into the flesh as it closed. His eyes opened, flickering from blue to gold, and he grabbed her wrist with a growl, looking around the room in an effort to figure out what had woke him.
"What... why are you in here? What were you... my shoulder?" He let go of her wrist, looking at his shoulder with a puzzled expression. There was still an angry red mark, but the wound was closed, no more than a dimple to show that there had been a hole through his shoulder. He ran his fingers over the scar, as if not quite believing his eyes.
"Since I was awake, I thought I could do a minor healing spell. I already got my leg, and I thought maybe you'd like your shoulder to heal a bit faster... I didn't mean to wake you up. Sorry?" Willow wasn't quite certain what to do. She was fairly certain that he was naked under those covers. He hadn't really seemed happy to see her, and probably didn't like her anyhow, judging from the bruises over her back. But she had wanted to help him. For no explicable reason, against all logic and sense, she wanted to help him.
"umm... I think I'll just... umm... let you go back to resting now. Really didn't mean to wake you." She could feel herself blushing. She turned, and practically bolted from the room, her face hot, and the image of William in the bed, the covers only barely covering him burned into her mind.
She didn't stop until she was back in the little sitting room, the door closed firmly behind her. She could still feel her breathing, and her heart was racing from the view, however accidental it had been. "Wow... all that underneath his clothing. He is just so... gorgeous. Handsome... and entirely, hopelessly, obsessively in love with Dru. Dru, the vampire girlfriend. Meaning that he's taken, and still taken in a hundred and twenty years. I should just... forget the whole thing."
Willow was beginning to think that this century was hazardous to more than just her physical health. Physically, she had fallen on a vampire, been shoved into walls twice, and shot in the leg with a crossbow. Emotionally... she was afraid that she was falling for William. She knew that it was hopeless. He was completely in love with Drusilla, and she was mortal. Vampires didn't get involved with mortals. If he even noticed her as a female, it was unlikely that he would care. It would be far worse than the hopeless crush that she'd had on Xander. William was actually likely to notice. If anything, he'd probably laugh at the mortal chit silly enough to fall for a vampire. Yeah, she really had to get home.
She had finally managed to get her pulse and breathing back under control when a small tap at the door nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she voiced a very undignified squeak of startlement. Carefully, her pulse once again rapid, she turned, moving back from the door, and softly spoke. " Who's there?"
" Miss? Master William said that you had some questions about the recent... killings?" The voice was low, a pleasant tenor. Actually, it almost reminded Willow of Wesley Wyndham-Price, although it was clearly the wrong century for that individual.
She turned around, opening the door while smoothing her hair back into something approximating order. "Yes, I had… sort of an awful idea that I wanted to get a bit more information towards. Either to discover that it's right or hopefully to prove it wrong."
On the other side of the door was a man, possibly in his mid thirties. He was dressed in a slightly shabby brown suit, and seemed fairly proper in some ways. His dark brown hair was pulled back, and he had a slightly red complexion, and was most obviously alive. "I'm Harold Sutton, an associate of the Rashe family. Master William sought a small measure of assistance from them last night after your... attack."
"Oh. umm... I'm Willow Rosenberg. Please, sit down." Willow felt a bit nervous; she had never been particularly good at the social graces.
"Miss Rosenberg, may I ask what this particular unpleasant theory of yours was?"
"You know about the Ripper killings? It occurred to me that... William said that all the reported victims had dark hair. Have there been... other killings of dark haired women? Similarly... mutilated? Please, it's not that I find this interesting, but... I want to figure out how to stop him. If we ... or actually, maybe me, know what he looks for, then maybe we can find him. Get rid of him. It also occurred to me that he might not actually be... umm, human."
"Your reasoning seems quite sound. I have heard of several other mortal women, all dark haired and similarly... mutilated, yes, that's a very suitable word for it. They have been getting progressively... more elaborate. There have also been a number of dark haired female minions gone missing, most likely destroyed over the past few months. If the Ripper isn't human, he could have had something to do with it. Naturally, there were no bodies found..." He shifted, fidgeting awkwardly with his shirt cuff.
"Then most likely, the Ripper has a body count significantly higher than the police are aware of, and possibly has extended that into the vampire population. Is it safe to assume that the female minions in question were... not particularly skilled at fighting?" Willow was almost thinking out loud.
"Most likely, yes. Which also increases the likelihood that the Ripper is not human. Most likely, he is either a vampire or some other species of demon that can pass for human in the dark, anything too different would be noticed, even in the most dreadful sections of town." Mr. Sutton was watching Willow, clearly interested in her reasoning.
Willow sighed, her mind reviewing the possible types of demon that might be able to accomplish all of the things that the Ripper had done. "He's most likely a vampire. Stakes, beheading, or possibly putting him out into the sunshine, although this is London, there's an occasional shortage of sunshine..."
"I think that between you and Master William, you should be quite capable of finding a solution."
end part 11.
Willow had been left alone in the room to ponder the Ripper, and what to do about him. Her options were complicated by several factors. She wasn't positive what the Ripper was, although she was leaning towards vampire or demon. She didn't know where he laired, only that he hunted in and around Whitechapel. Someone seemed to be trying to kill her, for an unknown reason. Lastly, she had no weapons but her magic, and her only ally was William.
She was getting frustrated. Her mind kept running in circles, repeating the problems over and over, occasionally alternating with descriptions of the victims, and the pressing question of 'Where was Dru, and what would happen if she wasn't alright?' Willow was almost ready to just scream out of pure frustration. Just to change things, even if only for a few moments. She had resisted the temptation so far, but...
Instead, she continued her pacing, almost growling with frustration. She wasn't used to having so little to work with attempting to defeat evil. There had always been books, and weapons, even if she wasn't the one to use the weapons against the bad things. Here, the only resources available were William's knowledge of the area and vampire abilities, and her own magic, limited to what she could do with no materials or whatever scraps of materials she could find. It wasn't a lot, and she was far from certain what to do. "I need a plan... think, think... got to find him, kill him, and then..."
"Then I get my Dru back and we try to help you get home. That's how it's going to be, Red. We find Dru, kill this sorry pillock, and find a way to get you home." William's voice carried from the doorway, his accent making his words seem more powerful to Willow.
Willow jumped, a sharp gasp for air betraying her startlement. "Oh!! I um... didn't realize that you were up yet. I've sort of been... trying to come up with a plan. I haven't had much luck, I'm used to having some books for research, and weapons available. Not to mention being able to go buy anything I need for a spell right down the corner."
"Sounds a lot more convenient. What about the nightlife? Are there very many people to eat where you come from?" William's voice sounded almost wistful, but Willow didn't think he realized it.
"Oh, that depends on what time it is. Until about midnight, there are a lot of people outside, mostly teenagers and twenty somethings, or tourists. Make that stupid tourists. There are a pretty high number of vampires, and lots of... how did this one vampire put it? Oh, yeah, 'lots of happy meals on legs'. Basically, yeah, lots of people to eat. Options. And a lot of abandoned buildings that get used as lairs." Willow's voice was balanced between a wistful urge to get back home and an awareness of the dangers of Sunnydale.
"Sounds like a great place to be a vampire. Maybe I'll have to go there someday." William sounded thoughtful, as if he was already planning his arrival, and what sort of people to kill as a welcome to town feast.
"Yeah. I'm sure you will. Just remember - California gets a lot of sunshine. You, being a vampire, should stay out of sunlight so you don't get all flamey and scorched, which really isn't an attractive look, although I bet you could pull it off, especially with those cheekbones. Oh, I'm sure you already know this and I'm babbling again, I was really hoping that I'd grown out of this, but no, drop me into another century with the cute vampire and I get all babbly Willow and find him in his bed all naked..." She continued to pace the whole time, not even pausing for breath once.
"I have no idea how someone that actually needs to breath can manage to say so much at once. Although, warning me about the sunshine... someone might get the idea that you actually care about me." William's voice carried amusement and surprise.
Willow could feel herself blushing. Someone getting the idea that she cared... that would be very awkward. Because she did care, somewhere along the last few weeks in Sunnydale, she had developed a huge crush on Spike. He had managed to slip into her battered heart without her noticing, until one morning, she had woke up realizing that she had developed feelings for Spike, that she would miss him when he was gone, and that she had fallen victim to yet another hopeless crush.
What made it worse was the nature of those feelings. Sure, she loved to listen to him talk, his voice was all smooth and he had that sexy accent, and he had so many interesting experiences that he could remember, even if a lot of them involved blood or violence. Nor was it entirely lust for his incredibly sexy body, although if she had to pick one person that she had met in her entire life for a night of pure, passionate sex... It would never happen. She admired his persistence and resourcefulness, was fascinated by his mind, lusted over his body... and he was not only hopelessly devoted to Dru, but no man ever really noticed her anyhow.
She didn't want anyone to find out about it. Especially not William, who would eventually become the Spike that she had fallen for. He was pretty appealing in his own right, although he was even more off limits. Spike's Dru had left him, William's Dru had just gotten lost... or at least, that's all they thought had happened to her. He had his ripe wicked plum, his dark goddess. What interest could he have in a temporally displaced red head?
Spike wouldn't want her, neither would his earlier version, William. Especially not if he had his Dru, his curvaceous, dark eyed temptress of a lover. His wicked obsession who would probably chain him up and torture him until he begged... although from what she had read in the Watcher journals, he would probably like that. It was far better if she hide her hopeless crush forever.
"You... aren't such a bad guy, even considering that you're a blood drinking occasionally ruthless vampire who has probably killed thousands of people. And besides, there... there really aren't very many people who even pretend to listen to me if I'm upset. I kind of want to keep one around, you know?" Willow was still blushing, and she could hear herself stumbling over her words.
William looked at her, his blue eyes filled with unreadable emotions. "You are really something else red. So, there's something I'm a bit curious about. When you were passing out last night, you muttered a few things. Something about not warning the tadpoles, and let's see, the phrase 'skanky bitch slut' and something about a Spike sundae, with chocolate sauce."
Willow sank onto the couch, her hands over her face, which had first gone crimson with embarrassment before moving beyond crimson to a sickly pale color. She had really said... oh god, the mortification, the embarrassment. Could she possibly just sink into the floor now? She made a little whimpering noise from behind her hands.
"I've always been too curious, care to enlighten be a bit?" He was grinning, apparently enjoying her discomfort.
When Willow finally spoke, her voice was slightly muffled by her hands. "I have frog fear. And umm... remember I said my boyfriend cheated on me? He cheated with this skanky... the skanky werewolf slut."
"Frog fear? You have no big problem with vampires, seem pretty calm about getting shot, and you're afraid of FROGS?!?" William's voice was incredulous, and he stared at her, as if seeking the truth in her eyes.
"Yeah. They're all slimy, and they have these big voices and they jump, and eeeuww. I know it's a bit strange, but... yeah, I'm afraid of frogs. I'd rather deal with scary vampires and would be apocalypses." Willow was feeling slightly better, but still horribly embarrassed.
"So what was this about a Spike sundae? And the chocolate sauce?" William's voice dashed Willow's fragile hope of a reprieve.
"umm... you know about ice cream? Well... umm... oh, this is embarrassing. If you sort of... umm... put the ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate sauce on... not a bowl... umm... I'm sure you... ahh... I'm sure you can figure it out." Willow was certain that if this didn't kill her, it was a positive discovery: you really couldn't die of embarrassment.
"hmmm... ahhhh." William's eyes lit up, flickering from blue to gold as the sundae concept clicked into place for this reference. "And then you eat the sundae... oh, I definitely have the idea now. Spike... he must be your ex-boyfriend. The one that cheated on you and run away. Sounds like a lucky bloke, having someone like you lick chocolate off of his... well, never mind. Must have lost a few of his marbles changing if he cheated on you and ran off."
Willow heard his words, and got so caught up in the idea of licking chocolate off of Spike that she didn't bother to correct his impression that Spike was the name of her boyfriend. She simply kept blushing.
While William was embarrassing Willow with mentions of Spike sundaes, the object of their search was no more than a few miles away. Drusilla reclined on a medium sized bed, the covers becoming stiff and slightly crusted, and numerous stains of blood and other things drying on the once clean sheets. She reclined, unabashedly naked, with harsh lines across her stomach and breasts as she watched her new lover playing with his toy. She smiled as the mortal woman screamed and pleaded, begging for mercy, or death. Her new lover had no mercy, and death would come later.
Dru smiled at the gift he had given her last night. Holding it up into the light, she admired the way the light caressed the subtle curves of the small object floating in the jar. The crimson of the blood had sank to the bottom, and when she shook it, the blood made bright swirls of color in the white wine, and she could watch the kidney spin in the jar. Such a pretty prezzie...
end part 12.
"He's getting more creative, luv. That wasn't the first tart he's taken out, and she probably won't be the last. Police are finally starting to look or him, he's getting more... creative about his work." William's voice was tight, as if he was attempting to reign in his own feelings about the body, to remind himself that as a vampire, he reveled in violence and bloodshed.
"I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be in England, let alone in London. This isn't even the right century! And right into the spree of a homicidal maniac... I guess this was to keep me from missing home too much. Wait, you said not the first, and he's getting more creative? Has there been a pattern? Anything that the victims all had in common?" Willow was trying to make herself think, hoping that if she forced herself to think logically, it would help lessen the panic. She was homeless in London during the panic of Jack the Ripper! With no resources, no allies, no friends, oh, she was certain that she was in trouble.
"You cast a spell and tossed your little backside across the channel and out of the proper century? Are you... What in the bloody hell sort of witch are you? Are you even capable of finding Dru?" William's voice was shocked, appalled, and a little bit dismayed.
"I think I mistranslated the Greek. Or maybe it was just being over the Hellmouth. I can cast a locating spell for someone, that's easy. I can do binding spells and fireballs. I even brought someone back from Hell! I can cast a spell to find your crazy girlfriend! The last thing I need right now is for someone to question my capability at magic! I already know I have the figure of a child, and the appeal of a dusty old book, but at least give me the courtesy of assuming that I can do something right!" Willow was nearly shouting at the end, hot angry tears, tears of pain and grief at Oz's betrayal and abandonment, of years of being passed over, of rejection and grief streaming down her face and dripping onto the front of the borrowed coat. The inherent danger in yelling at an unchipped soulless vampire who's only reason for not killing her was the thought that she might be more useful alive didn't quite register at the moment.
William turned to look at her, his blue eyes softening slightly as he looked at her, standing there in the chilly fog, looking small and lost inside his coat, tears of built up pain and frustration and grief running down her face. "What happened? Nobody ends up this far from home just entirely by accident."
Willow brushed the tears from her cheeks, aware that they would just be replaced by more in moments. "I had a boyfriend. Yeah, he was a werewolf, but he was still a pretty nice guy. I thought that everything was good, until he saw HER. She was a singer for this other band, and it turned out that she was also a werewolf, and they got loose while they were all wolfy, and then there they were all naked and together and he... he had sex with her. Then she tried to kill me, and he changed, and he killed her instead, only then he almost ate me, except that Buffy got him with the sedative, and then he just... left town. He couldn't even bother to say goodbye, he just... ran away. I wasn't even worth a goodbye from him. And I'm supposed to just be over it, because it happened a few weeks ago, and nobody's wanted to hear about how much it hurts for almost two weeks. He was the only guy that ever seemed to want me, and he's gone, and nobody else will ever want me except as a study buddy, and I can't live like this anymore. I can't deal with this pain, and it isn't going away. So, since everyone wanted me to find a way to stop dragging everyone else into a miserable mood, I was going to do a little spell. I wanted it to help me move past my time of pain. Now, I'm in London, in the wrong damn century!"
She found herself sobbing onto William's shoulder, hot tears scalding her cheeks, her eyes burning from the pain and frustration, and the misery of it all. Oz had vanished, and everyone just wanted her to magically get over it, because her pain was ruining their days. It had helped just to have someone willing to listen, but the only person willing to do that back in Sunnydale... was actually the same person that she was sobbing on now. The only glimmerings of comfort that she'd received had come from a soulless killer, a vampire that had killed hundreds of mortals, had even contemplated having her for dinner. Not her friends, not her parents, but someone that was supposed to be her mortal, or would that be immortal enemy.
He just held her, his arm around her back, and listened as she told the sad story, let her tears soak into his shirt. His hand rubbed small circles over her back, just as he would have done for his ripe wicked plum. He listened, and offered the support of a shoulder, the release of tears.
"Sounds like you really need a better class of friends, luv. The ones you have apparently haven't figured out that friendship goes both ways. They lean on you, but a real friend will let you lean on them." He managed to produce a handkerchief from one of the jacket pockets, and wiped the tears from her face before tucking it back into the pocket that it had emerged from. "Do you feel any better now?"
Willow looked at him, sniffling slightly as her tears faded, her eyes feeling hot and scratchy from crying. She felt almost empty inside now, instead of filled with pain and bitter despair. "Actually, I think I do feel better. Not good, but better than I was."
He flashed a cocky grin at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, something intense and primal and undecipherable. "Now, just remember a few things, luv. First, the damn wolf was an idiot if he left you behind. Second, you're passionate and when you landed on me I could tell that you have a decent figure on you. You can find someone else that will want you, hopefully someone that will cherish you and take care of you the way you deserve, someone that won't expect you to always be the strong one."
Willow gave him a shaky smile, one as fragile as blown glass. "Don't we have a vampire to locate? And you are going to tell me about the previous... the Ripper's earlier efforts. I think... if I'm here, there has to be a reason."
Amazingly, her green locator spell had remained through her tears and shouting, and was hovering, almost conveying an impression of impatience. They resumed moving, following the globe through the streets, trying to avoid stepping on anything to nasty. They were going deeper into the bad section of town, into the area where a scream in the darkness was so common that nobody would bother to check, where nobody cared if you died unless you owed them money. All in search of an insane vampire that had tried to kill Willow, although that had been more of a minor detail than anything personal.
William gave her a small smile of his own, and offered her his arm as they walked. "Well, the first person that this Ripper fellow claimed credit for was a chit called Polly Nichols. I also heard a rumor that she was having an affair with this one vampire I know, not sure about that one though. Anyhow, her body was found in an alley, throat slashed, so was her stomach. Not much blood though."
"Not much blood? And her throat was slashed? Maybe right over the artery? umm... William? Was there much blood found on the other victims? I mean... other than that woman in..." Willow's voice trailed off and she shuddered, not from the cool air, but from the impressions of the mayhem that she had of the little room, both from movies and William's reaction.
"I didn't see the bodies, luv. But, the papers said it was over the artery. There hasn't been a lot of blood found with the other bodies either. All cheap tarts, the sort that nobody really misses, on account of there's always more. Come to think of it, they all had dark hair."
"Okay, so we have a tentative victim profile, dark haired women, people that nobody would miss, and easy, umm... meaning that they would just go off with some random guy. As for the lack of blood, living over the Hellmouth makes me think that this guy might be some sort of vampire or demon. ohh... you don't think... he's not... eating the insides?" Willow's face had paled at the thought, and her expression was almost pleading as she looked at William.
"I really don't know. Some of the letters said he was. But yeah, all dark haired chits going off with strange blokes in the middle of the night." His voice was low, as if he didn't want to draw attention to them.
Willow shuddered again. "Ew. That's just... icky. Sounds like either some sort of night stalking baddie to me, or else a guy with really, really severe mental problems."
William chuckled, an almost friendly sound. "Red, you have quite the way of describing things."
end part 7.
While William and Willow were discussing the gruesome details of the Ripper killings, Arthur Giles of the Watcher's Council was making some preparations of his own. He was quite firmly of the belief that witches were evil, just as vampires and demons were. That they were a menace and plague upon the populace, and should be eliminated for the protection of all people. In his mind, they were not that much different from demons, and often just as tricky. He had searched the Watcher's archives, finding many examples of witches and sorcerers causing trouble, summoning vile demons, casting curses, unleashing terrible forces. Really, wouldn't it be best to kill them as soon as possible, before they unleashed some terrible evil?
He was careful in his preparations though. He alerted a few of the other Watchers, informing them that he had spotted a witch, one that had been working in conjunction with a vampire, and that he was attempting to eliminate them both. His idea was that this way, if he failed, there would be others that would follow, possibly to avenge him, but at least to kill the dangers that he had discovered. The fact that he had been able to give a good description should make it easier, although that section of London was a nightmare warren of buildings and tunnels and unsafe buildings. God alone knew how many dangers could be dwelling in there, or how many of them were working with the red haired witch and her brown haired vampire.
He found a crossbow, something lethal to witch and vampire alike, and set out into the night. With a bit of luck, he would be able to find them, to kill at least one of them tonight. He had very carefully carved crosses onto the bolts for his crossbow, uncertain if they would actually make them more lethal to vampires or not, but it had made him feel better.
With some caution and a warm coat, he set off, hoping to be able to make London that much safer tonight. Toe rid the city of one more dreadful parasite, something existing on the suffering and death of the common people. Watchers were supposed to do more than observe, they were sometimes the only defense an area had. If he remembered correctly, the current Slayer was in Japan, extremely far from London and any of the dangers to the people here. So, the Watchers would have to stand in, to kill the demons and vampires. Part of him was terrified, but if not him, then who would go after them?
He had no way of knowing just how dangerous some of the things that stalked the streets this night actually were. He had considered the idea of vampires, of several sorts of demons, and even from common muggers. But he hadn't considered the idea of a mind twisted into feral insanity, a mind that had sunk below even the level of predatory excess considered acceptable among demons and vampires. There was no way that he could have prepared himself.
In WhiteChapel, William had finished detailing the bodies that the police had found, and mentioned a few others that had been found by some of the demon community, similarly mutilated, always dark haired women, the sort he called tarts, and all of them had dark hair. They had also all been killed during the night, many around three or four in the morning.
A sudden thought occurred to Willow, one that she worried would upset William. "umm... William? How does Dru normally hunt? I mean, what are her tactics?"
He smiled fondly, clearly thinking about all the times he had gone hunting with his lover. "She smiles all soft and helpless like at a bloke, makes him think she's this sweet and helpless little bird, and then when she gets him alone, there he is, and nobody can help him. The sudden change always makes them afraid, tastes sweet. Nothing like the combination of fear, denial, and some bloke who thought he was going to get... well, it's a very effective plan."
"Ummm.... she's going into Whitechapel to do this? Dru, with her dark hair, is going to be luring men off for what they think is a quickie, in the area where someone has been killing dark haired tarts?"
William suddenly turned, his eyes golden and furious, in full vampire visage. His hand was around Willow's throat, and he had her shoved against a wall, her feet dangling a few inches from the ground. "DON'T INSULT HER!!! She's my dark goddess, my world, and I'm not going to let some little mortal chit insult her!"
Fear surged through her, and Willow gasped for breath. "Not... trying to insult her. Just... she could be in... danger from the... Ripper."
His eyes grew wide, and he suddenly released her, causing Willow to fall to the cobblestones in a heap. "Oh bloody hell... you're right. She's a pretty dark haired thing, and all the others had dark hair. We have to find her!"
Slowly, Willow picked herself up from the cobblestones, trying to brush off any dirt or... whatever that might have stuck itself to her clothing when she had landed. She winced as she felt new bruises, and made a mental note to herself not to insult Dru, even if she was a crazy, skanky... no, best not to go there. "If the Ripper is some sort of vamp or demon, she might not be able to fight him off, although he's probably... not hungry or whatever anymore, not considering..."
"Considering that woman earlier, right. So, we have a little time. I still want to find her, she..."
"She's your everything. Your eternal love, the person you want to be with forever. I know. It was... mentioned in my proper time, in the Nineteen Nineties, and then again in Two Thousand and One. Dru being your everything... that even came up before the whole Slayers thing." Willow was looking around for the little globe, and so she missed the surprised expression that crossed William's face.
"You're from the future? Over a hundred years in the future? And I'm still... what was that about Slayers?" The curiosity in his voice was almost tangible.
"Yeah. Two Thousand one, and I'm in college, over the Hellmouth. You and Dru showed up there, and Giles, umm... he's a Watcher, but he was freaking out because you'd killed two Slayers already..." Willow moved slightly, peering through the darkness. "Aha! There's the little seeking globe. She's that way."
"Two Slayers? I kill two Slayers between now and then? Sounds good. What about Dru?"
"umm.... she got Kendra. She did this... mind control thingy, and just slit her throat right open. Creepy. Well, probably a big accomplishment for a vampire, but it was really freaky to watch. I was stuck under a bookcase at the time, and you know, not even a single stupid minion tried to go after me? Further proof of my lack of appeal." Willow sighed, shaking her head slightly. "And now I know I have problems, because I'm complaining that nobody even wants to bite me. That's normally a good thing... I'm going to be one of those crazy old ladies that lives in a house with a horde of cats and talks to herself..."
Willow missed the amused expression that settled onto William's face. She was too busy following the globe to try to find his precious Dru.
end part 8.
* Sunnydale, 2001 (Season 4, original time) *
Spike had woke up, his day spent in impossible dreams of HER, to be reminded of the harsh reality. Reality where she wasn't his, where he was reminded that the nights of intense passion that they had existed only in his own mind. Reminded that she wouldn't think of him like that, would never lower herself to go to bed with a demon, a vampire. As had become normal, his body was in a state of frustrated longing, tormented by his desire for HER, his glorious new goddess, the one that filled his dreams with herself, driving away any thoughts or longings for Dru, the tormented vampiress that had been his whole world for well over a century. She had claimed his heart and passion for herself, burning her claim into him, and she didn't even know it, hadn't done anything to cause it. She had just been herself, her glorious, wonderful self. A passionate woman that he didn't think he'd ever met in his waking life, yet seemed so familiar that he should be able to reach out and find her next to him…
Something had been done that had left him unable to feed, and he was stuck in the Watcher's bathtub, chained up like... but he wasn't chained up. There was a faint hint of Willow's scent in the air, and his chains had been unlocked. A large cooler was sitting under the sink, and he suspected that it would be at least partly filled with blood for him. The bathroom was yet another reminder that his dreams were not reality, in his dreams, he dwelled with HER in a place of splendor and luxury, somewhere worthy of HER, his dream beloved. The woman that he could never have, and could hardly bring himself to think of when awake.
He climbed out of the tub, stretching his muscles. He combed out his hair, and opened the chest, discovering that it was nearly full of blood. He was able to feed well, and there was still a generous supply. It was almost too generous a supply. She was normally pretty good about bringing him enough to eat, but this was far more than she usually brought. He didn't recall her saying anything about going out of town for the weekend.
Now puzzled, Spike carefully emerged from the bathroom. The apartment was silent; the only sounds his own footsteps and the faint hum of the refrigerator. The television was turned off. No radio played, no humming of music or faint turning of pages. That didn't seem right. He listened, extending his senses as far as possible... listening for the faintest sound of life.
The neighbor in the next house over had a pair of small animals, perhaps cats, currently running through the upstairs. News played in the next apartment, and there was a single heartbeat over there, an adult male. Giles' apartment was empty, not a single living creature, only his own presence, and a lingering scent of candle-wax and herbs.
He collapsed into the chair, suddenly realizing what must have happened. Willow had been here, had cast a spell using candles and herbs, and now she wasn't here anymore. Had she simply left the apartment? Vanished as a result of her spell? Where was she? Who would he have to talk to? He would miss Willow if something had happened to her; she was the only one that would really talk to him. The pang of worried sorrow was joined by something else, and a bit more selfish. Without Willow, would anyone bother to remember to feed him?
The door rattled, and swung open, the rustling of paper and a low English voice cursing 'confounded packages and bundles' and cursing the deterioration of his body with the passing of time. Giles came through the door, placing an armload of bundles, boxes and books on the table. He glanced up and around before realizing that Spike was not supposed to be roaming loose in his house.
"What are you doing free? Where's Willow?" Giles' voice carried suspicion and concern.
"Unlike the rest of you, Red likes me. She lets me out of the chains. Normally, I'm awake when she gets here, and there's a little conversation where I ask her to let me loose and she tells me to behave. Tonight, I woke up, the cuffs were off, ankles loose, and there was a cooler of blood for me under the sink. I haven't seen Red anywhere, but I know she was here." Spike's voice was determinedly neutral. If the Watcher had the idea that Willow mattered to him in any way, it would probably hurt Spike's chances for... what? What exactly was he hoping that the Watcher wouldn't interfere with? He knew that there would be nothing happening between himself and Willow, she was still torn up inside from the Wolf leaving. He knew her pain, understood it down to his bones, and he hurt with her, bled inside along with her, and couldn't understand how her 'friends' could be blind enough to miss it.
"How do you know that Willow was here? Do you have any idea where she is now?" Giles was obviously worried about her.
"I could smell her scent in the bathroom, so I know that she was here. There's also a hint of candle wax in the air, and some herbs. I... there was something I said to her the other day. Something about maybe there was a spell to help her get over mutt-boy. I think she tried something. No idea if she cast and walked out, or if something went odd and she just vanished." His voice wasn't quite as neutral as Spike had hoped, betraying his concern for Willow.
Giles stood there, his expression thoughtful and worried. "She must have decided to cast it in the basement, I can't think of anywhere else big enough for a casting that I wouldn't have seen by now..." The Watcher turned, facing the bookshelves, and his gaze fell on the pair of books that Willow had placed on the table earlier that day, her pages of careful notes peeking slightly from the cover of the brown one.
"I didn't leave any books on that table." The words emerged slowly, as if Giles had a bad feeling about the books. Slowly, he walked closer to them, opening the one with her notes cautiously.
Giles looked over the pages, and a puzzled frown crossed his face. "This seems fairly straight forward... a petition to ask a request of certain benevolent and neutral beings. It shouldn't have harmed her..."
Spike felt dread seep into his body, and suspicion began to gnaw at him. "What was her petition?"
Flipping through the pages with careful documentation of the ritual, Giles looked for the relevant information. "Hmm... The petition is to be presented in Greek... I don't think Willow is terribly proficient in Greek. Ah, here is her phrasing, in English. She has 'help me move from this time of pain' which does sound as if she wanted assistance recovering from Oz. But that still doesn't explain where she is..."
"You said Greek wasn't her best language. How does the petition read in Greek? If she got the translation off, that could change the whole meaning." Spike spoke from the couch, mentally cursing the sunlight that fell over the table, the sunlight that prevented him from looking over the pages himself. He also began something that he hadn't done in almost two hundred years; he began to pray to any power that might listen to him that Willow would be safe.
"Oh dear."
Spike had learned to dread those words from Giles. "What? What do you mean 'oh dear'? What does it say? What happened to Willow?!?"
Giles looked at Spike, puzzlement for Spike's reaction warring on his features with concern for his findings. "The Greek, properly translated, reads 'help remove me from this time of pains.' I think... I think that Willow has accidentally removed herself from this time, most likely to a different point in time, perhaps the past, possibly the future."
"WHAT!!! She's accidentally moved herself out of this time?!? How do we bring her back? There has to be something that can be done about this. I... you people need Willow." Spike's features flickered from human to vampire from the intensity of his emotions.
Willow was gone from this time... not stuck grieving for her broken heart, not gone somewhere in the sunlight, but GONE. She was in some other time, probably a dangerous time. Some time where nobody would realize how special she was, how brave and resourceful. A time when her power would only lead to pain and danger to her, instead of respect and admiration. A time when she could be hurt, or even killed, and he wouldn't even know.
"Yes, there must be a way to bring her back. Something that can be done to retrieve her, to bring her back to us. I will have to start looking... perhaps you could be of some assistance?" Giles was worried, perhaps thinking of all the dangers that could befall Willow in some other time.
"Yeah, just pass me something. There's a lethal patch of sunshine between me and the books. If it's any help, I can read the Greek. Latin, Chinese, French and Russian as well, I tried to pick up the local language if we stayed anywhere very long." Spike was worried. Willow was gone, and they had no idea where or even when she was.
There were just some days that it would be more enjoyable to sleep through, and this was shaping up to be one of them.
end part 9.
Willow was trying to concentrate on searching for Drusilla, really she was. Unfortunately, her subconscious had other ideas. She was still following the green locator globe, and she was aware of William slightly to her left, but her mind wasn't focused on the streets and back allies of London. Nor was she even contemplating the gruesome work of the serial killer known as the Ripper. That would have been relevant. She wasn't contemplating how to get back to her proper time either.
No, Willow was contemplating Chaos demons, Fungus demons, and Angelus. Chaos demons came in two varieties, the 'lesser chaos demon', which resembled Lurch from the Addams family, crowned with an impressive rack of antlers that secreted a mildly acidic slime, and the 'greater chaos demon' which more closely resembled a centaur with the lower limbs of something like a deer, with taloned feet, and a slightly muzzle-like mouth of fangs below slime covered antlers, creating a result that was both fearsome and disgusting. There were very detailed illustrations in some of Giles' books. Fungus demons looked as if they were professional basketball players whose skin had been replaced with a pale tan leathery substance that had lumps and growths resembling mushrooms all over it, and some of them also had slime, while others released a powdery substance that caused choking and coughing from anyone near them. Again with the verdict of 'eeeuuuw'. Angelus... well, he had looked far more appealing than a chaos or fungus demon, so she could actually understand why Dru might have been attracted to Angelus. But what on earth could she have seen in a chaos demon? Or a fungus demon? Why would she want something all gross and slimy when she had William? Willow found herself concluding that it had to be because Dru was insane, that had to be the only reason why someone would ditch Spike... err, William for a chaos demon.
"Never in a million years... eternal chastity sounds better." Willow didn't even realize that the words had been spoken out loud.
"Better than what, Red?" William's query was proof that the words had been out loud.
"ummm...." Willow knew that she couldn't explain the whole reason behind her fractured statement. But he would insist on an answer, and she had to have one that wouldn't sound like an outright lie. "I was just... thinking about this rumor that I'd heard back... home. There was something about a vampire having an affair with a Chaos demon... and, eeuuwww, gross! All slime and antlers. Eternal chastity sounds far better. But, I mean, there had to have been some sort of reason, right?"
"You really heard a rumor about someone having an affair with a bloody chaos demon?!? You wouldn't lie about that, would you?"
"Really! With my own ears I heard him say it! This one vamp said another vamp that he knew had took up with a chaos demon, all slime and antlers! I really truly heard him say it, and he... I don't think he was lying. I just can't figure out the attraction. I mean... gross." Willow could feel herself getting a bit nervous again. William had been showing a tendency to half choke her against walls if she said the wrong thing, she didn't want a third occurrence.
"Gross... if that means vile, slime covered and disgusting, then I suppose that would be a good word for them. Some of them are supposed to have powerful psychic abilities. Others are supposed to be able to enhance someone's power. I still don't think it's enough to climb into bed with one, but there are probably some ambitious types out there who think it would be worth it." William's voice was thoughtful, and clearly conveyed his distaste for the idea of someone being intimate with a chaos demon.
"Umm... William? Do you have any idea why some vampires look really ugly with their vampire faces on, and others don't look bad at all? I mean..." Willow could feel herself blushing. "You don't look bad with your fangs, although I've mostly seen you angry. Angelus didn't look unattractive; he was just threatening death and destruction. Darla and Dru didn't look bad either, although they're really not my type. I mean, yeah, bad as in scary dangerous vampires, but not bad as in ugly. That would be the Master, or even worse, Kakistos, who looked really horrible. The Master's guy Luke looked pretty bad with his vampire face on, although I didn't see him looking human, so maybe he was just ugly to begin with... and I'm babbling again, aren't I?"
William chuckled. "You've been keeping a list of cute vampires, have you? The Master is powerful, don't ever forget that Red. But no, he isn't going to get too much done with his good looks. Sometimes it just age, sometimes people just look bad no matter what. Had someone tell me once that it was a reflection of the insides of you; the worse you are inside, the scarier you look outside when you vamp out. Said it was a sign of power and potential."
"That can't be right. Darla and Angelus were both in the Watcher's journals as big scary threats, and they both looked good as vamps. You've taken... or will take... or something... two Slayers, and you don't look bad. Luke, as far as the books could say, he got one Slayer, was the Master's trusted lieutenant, and was not at all attractive. But a lot of minions are not only slightly smarter than dirt, but also fairly ugly. So it can't be that capable vampires are ugly, and pretty vampires are decorative fluff."
"I suppose that's a good point, about the minions. Who knows? Maybe it has nothing to do with capabilities. Maybe it's just chance. Anyone ever tell you that you think about the strangest things?"
Willow sighed. "All the time. That and everyone telling me I have to many thoughts."
He was still laughing about the idea of someone having to many thoughts when the crossbow bolt caught him in the shoulder. The bolt burned, causing his flesh to smoke where it touched, and he roared with pain, staggering slightly from the impact. The laughter was gone, and he was entirely vampire, and furious.
Willow's eyes were wide and worried, as she scanned the rooftops along the opposite side of the street for the sniper. She spoke a few words, and a crackling globe of green fog began to gather in her hand, clearly preparation for something. Finally, Willow thought that she saw movement on the rooftop. "There, I think I see something..."
Growling, William headed for the building that the motion had been on, scaling the uneven side easily, his movements reminding Willow just how much vampires really were predatory, that no matter how human he might look, he wasn't. That Spike wasn't human, no matter how human-like he might seem at times. No matter how much he listened.
A second crossbow bolt came from the rooftop, this one hitting Willow in her leg, the pain radiating through her in hot waves. She gasped, nearly falling to the ground from the pain, and whispered a quick spell to numb the pain, the energies from her gathered fog wavering. Crying out, she hurled the fog towards the roof, hoping that it would hit whoever had shot her, hoping that there would be some sort of answer as to who, what, why she had been shot. She didn't have enemies in this time... she hadn't even met anyone besides William!
Meanwhile, William had reached the roof, and charged at the man holding the crossbow, fangs bared and growling. The man with the crossbow seemed human, and was dressed a bit better than normal for this area. Seeing William, he turned, attempting to flee, but a green swirl enveloped him, slowing his movements, making him clumsy. William grabbed at the man, intending to rip him into shreds. The man ducked, leaving William holding a fistful of coat sleeve, a few drops of blood on his claws from shallow slashes over the man's arm. William lunged after the sniper again, and the mortal dodged, slipping on the sloping roof, sliding down a bit before hitting a weak point, the roof collapsing under him, dropping him into a cluttered attic filled with an odd assortment of boxes and crates and strangely shaped things. William tried to leap after him, and encountered a barrier, an indication that he had not been invited into the building, that someone lived inside. He glared at the mortal, memorizing his face so that he would be able to find and kill him later. Concluding that the mortal was not about to emerge from the attic, William left the hole, climbing down the side of the building more carefully.
"Red? You're bleeding..." His voice had the slightly deeper tone that told her that he was still vamped out.
"Yeah." Her words were barely more than a whisper, and her head was spinning from pain, possibly from the blood loss or shock, although her jeans weren't too bloody. "He fired a second shot."
"oh, hell... let me pull that out..." William reached forward, the motion causing the bolt still in his shoulder to pull, the new pain making him growl.
"You first. My wound, the bolt might be all that's keeping it from bleeding more. Besides, your's is umm… smoking. Hang on, this is going to hurt." She reached out, one hand wrapping over the bloody bolt in his shoulder, the other pressing on his chest just under the wound, apparently heedless of the fact that she was putting her hands on his blood. She gave a sharp pull with one hand, and pushed him back with the other, and as William roared in pain again, the bolt pulled loose with a slight sucking noise. Willow staggered a bit, her face growing a bit paler as a line of intense pain shot up her leg from the motion..
"Bloody... that hurt. Your turn. I'll pull it out, you be ready to put pressure on if it bleeds more." His voice was almost even, his features still vampiric.
He waited for Willow's nod before gripping the bolt, growling as his hands touched the wood, feeling the crosses carved into it burning his hand. He pulled the bolt harshly, ignoring Willow's gasp as it left her leg. She pressed her hands, still covered with his blood onto the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.
"Let me help you with that..." William lowered his head to the wound, licking at the blood that flowed.
Willow twitched slightly, years of living on the Hellmouth protesting this, telling her that the last thing to permit near a bleeding wound was a vampire. But it felt almost... good. The feeling of his lips on her flesh, his tongue sliding over her skin... it sent shivers through her body, dark naughty shivers. "I'm hoping that I don't go into shock... to much blood loss could do that."
Willow decided not to worry about it. If he was actually intending to help tend her wound, why should she object? Besides, as far as the Watcher journals went, vampire bites rarely got infected, maybe there was some sort of anti-bacterial agent? It felt so nice, pleasant and sending those delightful shivers through her. Besides, what did she have to live for right now? Her friends didn't have time for her, her boyfriend... Oz was gone. The only person that even cared a little was Spike. Spike would recover, assuming that he even missed her. She wouldn't have cared if Spike had killed her in the dorm room. She didn't have any more to live for now. At least, if she was going to die, it would be at the hands... teeth? tongue? of an attractive vampire.
She felt a small smile on her face. Shivering slightly, she wondered why she felt so cold, and then everything spun slowly into darkness.
end part 10.
Willow woke up, her leg throbbing with dull pain, the tension of bandages around it. She could feel bruises on her back, undoubtedly from William pushing her into those walls last night. He had some anger issues that he should really talk to someone about, preferably someone that didn't bruise. It then occurred to Willow what all this actually meant. She was still alive.
She was alive, which meant that William hadn't killed her, hadn't drank her blood down to the last drop. Maybe it was just because she could still help him find Drusilla? Or maybe... maybe he just wasn't hungry, or she had tasted bad or something. She really didn't know, but she was fairly certain that most people would just be glad about surviving, instead of trying to figure out why.
Carefully, Willow sat up, her head feeling as if the world was spinning around her as she moved. She stopped, trying to make everything feel better, trying to think through the dizziness. It had to be from the blood loss, because the wound didn't feel as if there had been any sort of poison. So, she felt bad because she had a hole in her leg, and had lost a fair amount of blood through it, and had traipsed on foot through the cold air. Blood loss and exertion, and she hadn't really been eating very well before her little trip, so that might have contributed.
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the healing spell that she had learned to try to help Buffy with her patrols. Buffy hadn't wanted it cast on her very often, claiming that Slayer healing would take care of things, but... maybe Buffy just hadn't trusted Willow's magic. She had used it on herself, as well as Xander and Giles on numerous occasions when they had been bruised or cut by some nasty creature. She placed her hand over the injury, the slight pressure making the wound throb painfully, and spoke the words, a short phrase in Latin. She felt warmth flow into the wound, and the throbbing faded away. It still hurt, and there would still be bruising, but no more gaping open wound. It occurred to her that maybe she should use it on William, after all, he had been injured as well.
The first problem with that idea was that she had no idea where he was, for that matter, she wasn't entirely certain where she was. She had been laying on a brown couch in what appeared to be some sort of sitting room, with heavy curtains, presumably over a window. There was a single door, closed. There was a dome covered tray on the small table, and when she opened it, there was a loaf of dark bread, a chunk of cheese, and a pair of small apples, and a note with a familiar scrawl 'eat up Red, you must be starving - W' letting her know that William had been responsible for the food. Obviously, he had brought her here last night, after they had been shot.
Willow ate some of the bread and cheese, as well as one of the apples. Carefully, she put the other apple and the rest of the bread into the pocket of her borrowed coat for later. Last night had reminded her that all night food places were a recent invention, and they didn't really have them in the late eighteen hundreds. Yet another reason to return to her own time if she could.
Moving slowly due to the stiffness that was still in her leg, she moved to the door, discovering that it was unlocked. There was a hallway, and no sign of any people, human or otherwise. Shaking her head slightly, she cast the locator spell, set to lead her to William, and began following it down the hall, up a staircase, and down another hall to a door. Listening, there was only silence from the other side, so if she opened the door, at least she wouldn't be interrupting anything. Carefully, Willow turned the handle, and the door opened, showing a dark room with a narrow bed and a small table. William was in the bed, his clothing dropped on the floor near the foot of the bed. He had apparently tossed in his sleep, and she could see his bare chest and arms, and almost all of one pale, naked leg revealed by the rumpled covers. He looked so still, the wound raw and angry on his shoulder.
She found herself moving closer, almost as if she was being drawn to him. Carefully, she brushed one soft lock of brown hair from his face. William didn't move, didn't twitch or even breathe. She put her fingers very lightly on the wound, barely touching at all, and whispered the incantation, concentrating on helping him to heal, speeding the closing of the wound and the repair of the torn muscles. A greenish gold glow spread over the wound, sinking into the flesh as it closed. His eyes opened, flickering from blue to gold, and he grabbed her wrist with a growl, looking around the room in an effort to figure out what had woke him.
"What... why are you in here? What were you... my shoulder?" He let go of her wrist, looking at his shoulder with a puzzled expression. There was still an angry red mark, but the wound was closed, no more than a dimple to show that there had been a hole through his shoulder. He ran his fingers over the scar, as if not quite believing his eyes.
"Since I was awake, I thought I could do a minor healing spell. I already got my leg, and I thought maybe you'd like your shoulder to heal a bit faster... I didn't mean to wake you up. Sorry?" Willow wasn't quite certain what to do. She was fairly certain that he was naked under those covers. He hadn't really seemed happy to see her, and probably didn't like her anyhow, judging from the bruises over her back. But she had wanted to help him. For no explicable reason, against all logic and sense, she wanted to help him.
"umm... I think I'll just... umm... let you go back to resting now. Really didn't mean to wake you." She could feel herself blushing. She turned, and practically bolted from the room, her face hot, and the image of William in the bed, the covers only barely covering him burned into her mind.
She didn't stop until she was back in the little sitting room, the door closed firmly behind her. She could still feel her breathing, and her heart was racing from the view, however accidental it had been. "Wow... all that underneath his clothing. He is just so... gorgeous. Handsome... and entirely, hopelessly, obsessively in love with Dru. Dru, the vampire girlfriend. Meaning that he's taken, and still taken in a hundred and twenty years. I should just... forget the whole thing."
Willow was beginning to think that this century was hazardous to more than just her physical health. Physically, she had fallen on a vampire, been shoved into walls twice, and shot in the leg with a crossbow. Emotionally... she was afraid that she was falling for William. She knew that it was hopeless. He was completely in love with Drusilla, and she was mortal. Vampires didn't get involved with mortals. If he even noticed her as a female, it was unlikely that he would care. It would be far worse than the hopeless crush that she'd had on Xander. William was actually likely to notice. If anything, he'd probably laugh at the mortal chit silly enough to fall for a vampire. Yeah, she really had to get home.
She had finally managed to get her pulse and breathing back under control when a small tap at the door nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she voiced a very undignified squeak of startlement. Carefully, her pulse once again rapid, she turned, moving back from the door, and softly spoke. " Who's there?"
" Miss? Master William said that you had some questions about the recent... killings?" The voice was low, a pleasant tenor. Actually, it almost reminded Willow of Wesley Wyndham-Price, although it was clearly the wrong century for that individual.
She turned around, opening the door while smoothing her hair back into something approximating order. "Yes, I had… sort of an awful idea that I wanted to get a bit more information towards. Either to discover that it's right or hopefully to prove it wrong."
On the other side of the door was a man, possibly in his mid thirties. He was dressed in a slightly shabby brown suit, and seemed fairly proper in some ways. His dark brown hair was pulled back, and he had a slightly red complexion, and was most obviously alive. "I'm Harold Sutton, an associate of the Rashe family. Master William sought a small measure of assistance from them last night after your... attack."
"Oh. umm... I'm Willow Rosenberg. Please, sit down." Willow felt a bit nervous; she had never been particularly good at the social graces.
"Miss Rosenberg, may I ask what this particular unpleasant theory of yours was?"
"You know about the Ripper killings? It occurred to me that... William said that all the reported victims had dark hair. Have there been... other killings of dark haired women? Similarly... mutilated? Please, it's not that I find this interesting, but... I want to figure out how to stop him. If we ... or actually, maybe me, know what he looks for, then maybe we can find him. Get rid of him. It also occurred to me that he might not actually be... umm, human."
"Your reasoning seems quite sound. I have heard of several other mortal women, all dark haired and similarly... mutilated, yes, that's a very suitable word for it. They have been getting progressively... more elaborate. There have also been a number of dark haired female minions gone missing, most likely destroyed over the past few months. If the Ripper isn't human, he could have had something to do with it. Naturally, there were no bodies found..." He shifted, fidgeting awkwardly with his shirt cuff.
"Then most likely, the Ripper has a body count significantly higher than the police are aware of, and possibly has extended that into the vampire population. Is it safe to assume that the female minions in question were... not particularly skilled at fighting?" Willow was almost thinking out loud.
"Most likely, yes. Which also increases the likelihood that the Ripper is not human. Most likely, he is either a vampire or some other species of demon that can pass for human in the dark, anything too different would be noticed, even in the most dreadful sections of town." Mr. Sutton was watching Willow, clearly interested in her reasoning.
Willow sighed, her mind reviewing the possible types of demon that might be able to accomplish all of the things that the Ripper had done. "He's most likely a vampire. Stakes, beheading, or possibly putting him out into the sunshine, although this is London, there's an occasional shortage of sunshine..."
"I think that between you and Master William, you should be quite capable of finding a solution."
end part 11.
Willow had been left alone in the room to ponder the Ripper, and what to do about him. Her options were complicated by several factors. She wasn't positive what the Ripper was, although she was leaning towards vampire or demon. She didn't know where he laired, only that he hunted in and around Whitechapel. Someone seemed to be trying to kill her, for an unknown reason. Lastly, she had no weapons but her magic, and her only ally was William.
She was getting frustrated. Her mind kept running in circles, repeating the problems over and over, occasionally alternating with descriptions of the victims, and the pressing question of 'Where was Dru, and what would happen if she wasn't alright?' Willow was almost ready to just scream out of pure frustration. Just to change things, even if only for a few moments. She had resisted the temptation so far, but...
Instead, she continued her pacing, almost growling with frustration. She wasn't used to having so little to work with attempting to defeat evil. There had always been books, and weapons, even if she wasn't the one to use the weapons against the bad things. Here, the only resources available were William's knowledge of the area and vampire abilities, and her own magic, limited to what she could do with no materials or whatever scraps of materials she could find. It wasn't a lot, and she was far from certain what to do. "I need a plan... think, think... got to find him, kill him, and then..."
"Then I get my Dru back and we try to help you get home. That's how it's going to be, Red. We find Dru, kill this sorry pillock, and find a way to get you home." William's voice carried from the doorway, his accent making his words seem more powerful to Willow.
Willow jumped, a sharp gasp for air betraying her startlement. "Oh!! I um... didn't realize that you were up yet. I've sort of been... trying to come up with a plan. I haven't had much luck, I'm used to having some books for research, and weapons available. Not to mention being able to go buy anything I need for a spell right down the corner."
"Sounds a lot more convenient. What about the nightlife? Are there very many people to eat where you come from?" William's voice sounded almost wistful, but Willow didn't think he realized it.
"Oh, that depends on what time it is. Until about midnight, there are a lot of people outside, mostly teenagers and twenty somethings, or tourists. Make that stupid tourists. There are a pretty high number of vampires, and lots of... how did this one vampire put it? Oh, yeah, 'lots of happy meals on legs'. Basically, yeah, lots of people to eat. Options. And a lot of abandoned buildings that get used as lairs." Willow's voice was balanced between a wistful urge to get back home and an awareness of the dangers of Sunnydale.
"Sounds like a great place to be a vampire. Maybe I'll have to go there someday." William sounded thoughtful, as if he was already planning his arrival, and what sort of people to kill as a welcome to town feast.
"Yeah. I'm sure you will. Just remember - California gets a lot of sunshine. You, being a vampire, should stay out of sunlight so you don't get all flamey and scorched, which really isn't an attractive look, although I bet you could pull it off, especially with those cheekbones. Oh, I'm sure you already know this and I'm babbling again, I was really hoping that I'd grown out of this, but no, drop me into another century with the cute vampire and I get all babbly Willow and find him in his bed all naked..." She continued to pace the whole time, not even pausing for breath once.
"I have no idea how someone that actually needs to breath can manage to say so much at once. Although, warning me about the sunshine... someone might get the idea that you actually care about me." William's voice carried amusement and surprise.
Willow could feel herself blushing. Someone getting the idea that she cared... that would be very awkward. Because she did care, somewhere along the last few weeks in Sunnydale, she had developed a huge crush on Spike. He had managed to slip into her battered heart without her noticing, until one morning, she had woke up realizing that she had developed feelings for Spike, that she would miss him when he was gone, and that she had fallen victim to yet another hopeless crush.
What made it worse was the nature of those feelings. Sure, she loved to listen to him talk, his voice was all smooth and he had that sexy accent, and he had so many interesting experiences that he could remember, even if a lot of them involved blood or violence. Nor was it entirely lust for his incredibly sexy body, although if she had to pick one person that she had met in her entire life for a night of pure, passionate sex... It would never happen. She admired his persistence and resourcefulness, was fascinated by his mind, lusted over his body... and he was not only hopelessly devoted to Dru, but no man ever really noticed her anyhow.
She didn't want anyone to find out about it. Especially not William, who would eventually become the Spike that she had fallen for. He was pretty appealing in his own right, although he was even more off limits. Spike's Dru had left him, William's Dru had just gotten lost... or at least, that's all they thought had happened to her. He had his ripe wicked plum, his dark goddess. What interest could he have in a temporally displaced red head?
Spike wouldn't want her, neither would his earlier version, William. Especially not if he had his Dru, his curvaceous, dark eyed temptress of a lover. His wicked obsession who would probably chain him up and torture him until he begged... although from what she had read in the Watcher journals, he would probably like that. It was far better if she hide her hopeless crush forever.
"You... aren't such a bad guy, even considering that you're a blood drinking occasionally ruthless vampire who has probably killed thousands of people. And besides, there... there really aren't very many people who even pretend to listen to me if I'm upset. I kind of want to keep one around, you know?" Willow was still blushing, and she could hear herself stumbling over her words.
William looked at her, his blue eyes filled with unreadable emotions. "You are really something else red. So, there's something I'm a bit curious about. When you were passing out last night, you muttered a few things. Something about not warning the tadpoles, and let's see, the phrase 'skanky bitch slut' and something about a Spike sundae, with chocolate sauce."
Willow sank onto the couch, her hands over her face, which had first gone crimson with embarrassment before moving beyond crimson to a sickly pale color. She had really said... oh god, the mortification, the embarrassment. Could she possibly just sink into the floor now? She made a little whimpering noise from behind her hands.
"I've always been too curious, care to enlighten be a bit?" He was grinning, apparently enjoying her discomfort.
When Willow finally spoke, her voice was slightly muffled by her hands. "I have frog fear. And umm... remember I said my boyfriend cheated on me? He cheated with this skanky... the skanky werewolf slut."
"Frog fear? You have no big problem with vampires, seem pretty calm about getting shot, and you're afraid of FROGS?!?" William's voice was incredulous, and he stared at her, as if seeking the truth in her eyes.
"Yeah. They're all slimy, and they have these big voices and they jump, and eeeuww. I know it's a bit strange, but... yeah, I'm afraid of frogs. I'd rather deal with scary vampires and would be apocalypses." Willow was feeling slightly better, but still horribly embarrassed.
"So what was this about a Spike sundae? And the chocolate sauce?" William's voice dashed Willow's fragile hope of a reprieve.
"umm... you know about ice cream? Well... umm... oh, this is embarrassing. If you sort of... umm... put the ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate sauce on... not a bowl... umm... I'm sure you... ahh... I'm sure you can figure it out." Willow was certain that if this didn't kill her, it was a positive discovery: you really couldn't die of embarrassment.
"hmmm... ahhhh." William's eyes lit up, flickering from blue to gold as the sundae concept clicked into place for this reference. "And then you eat the sundae... oh, I definitely have the idea now. Spike... he must be your ex-boyfriend. The one that cheated on you and run away. Sounds like a lucky bloke, having someone like you lick chocolate off of his... well, never mind. Must have lost a few of his marbles changing if he cheated on you and ran off."
Willow heard his words, and got so caught up in the idea of licking chocolate off of Spike that she didn't bother to correct his impression that Spike was the name of her boyfriend. She simply kept blushing.
While William was embarrassing Willow with mentions of Spike sundaes, the object of their search was no more than a few miles away. Drusilla reclined on a medium sized bed, the covers becoming stiff and slightly crusted, and numerous stains of blood and other things drying on the once clean sheets. She reclined, unabashedly naked, with harsh lines across her stomach and breasts as she watched her new lover playing with his toy. She smiled as the mortal woman screamed and pleaded, begging for mercy, or death. Her new lover had no mercy, and death would come later.
Dru smiled at the gift he had given her last night. Holding it up into the light, she admired the way the light caressed the subtle curves of the small object floating in the jar. The crimson of the blood had sank to the bottom, and when she shook it, the blood made bright swirls of color in the white wine, and she could watch the kidney spin in the jar. Such a pretty prezzie...
end part 12.