Chapter Nine

          Willow had been on the phone all morning and most of the afternoon. The list of individuals whom she'd spoken with was staggering and, since she had yet to receive the answers she was looking for, was still growing. The others, the Scooby's as well as Spike, Dru and the Guard squad, had found their entertainment that day in watching the frustrated redhead pace back and forth. Occasionally Willow would pause in her steps and roll her eyes or take a deep breath. At other times those around her ducked down, fearful they may be hit by one of the numerous objects being thrown by the Commander. A couple of times Willow even screamed and came close to slamming her phone against the wall – Spike or Drusilla always managed to pry the small device from her fingers, though.

          Buffy and the Sunnydale gang found it amusing, at times, and felt pity for whoever was on the receiving end of Willow's rage. Giles found it fascinating that Willow slipped into a number of demon dialects throughout the course of the day and, understanding fractions of the languages she used, the Watcher blushed a few times in hearing some of the colorful wording Willow used.

          "Do I sound like I'm bloody well joking?" Willow's tone was dangerously low and the others, unbeknownst to each other, were all thinking the same thing: whoever Willow was talking to was skating extremely thin ice. "I've already spoken to them. Yes, and them as well. Oh, I know, apparently I've spoken with every goddamn Watcher in the Council as well as every little twit they employ and I still haven't gotten an answer. No, no, no, I don't want to hear this Council bullshit. All I want to hear from you is a yes or a no. Can you handle that, or is it too complicated for you?" There was a long pause then Willow groaned, slamming her phone shut and throwing it across the room – Spike managed to catch it, though, before it shattered against the floor.

          "Bad news, ducks?"

          Willow glared at Spike, who abruptly stopped his approach towards her and stepped back a few feet. "How the hell does one completely loose track of an extremely powerful shaman for an entire bloody week?"

          "Because they're pricks?"

          Willow smiled at Dru's response. "You're telling me," she sighed taking Spike's hand and sliding down between him and Dru on the couch – the other's still silent throughout the room.

          It was the first time since they'd arrived that Spike and Dru had spent any length of time in the same room as the Scooby's and, though Willow hadn't noticed, her old friends were obviously, and understandably, confused and baffled by their presence. Opening her eyes Willow saw the hesitant glances they were tossing towards her two companions and sat up.

          "What's going on?"

          The Scooby's started, their heads snapping forward. "What do you mean?" Xander responded.

          Willow raised a questioning eyebrow. "Don't play stupid, Xander."

          The Scooby's exchanged glances but it was Oz that spoke, "Why isn't she, you know – "

          "Raving like a lunatic?" Dru offered, smiling. They all nodded and Dru answered, "Because I'm not a lunatic."

          "Dru's been sane for a good five years and working for the CI for, oh about four."

          "How?"

          "The Council," Drusilla explained. "I was captured not long after Spike and I got the Brazil."

          "After Buffy sent her precious Angel spiraling into hell," Spike clarified solely to get a rise out of the Slayer.

          "They did a quick little procedure," Dru continued, "and less then a month later I was certifiably sane."

          Removing his glasses Giles leaned forward in his chair. "A, a procedure?"

          Dru nodded. "Yeah, but I haven't the slightest idea what it was. Intel's not especially forthcoming when it comes to that sort of information, which is understandable since if the procedure could make me sane it could also very easily make me, or anyone for that matter, insane."

          Feeling around in his pockets Spike pulled out a box of cigarettes but, knowing Willow hated the smell of them, stood and walked over to the terrace doors, into the afternoon sunlight. Lighting and taking a long drag he turned back to the others, the Sunnydale gang gawking openmouthed.

          "Does anyone else see Spike standing in the sun not exploding into flames and ash?"

          "Oh, that," Dru laughed, moving to stand at Spike's side. "We've been here for a here for a week and you guys are just now noticing this? Gee, don't I feel safe knowing you're guarding a Hellmouth."

          "Feel like explaining?" Cordelia demanded.

          Spike shrugged. "One of the perks of humanity."

          Giles nearly fell out of his chair. "Humanity?" he coked out. "Spike and Drusilla are human?"

          "Part human," Willow answered. "Still part demon, too."

          "And, and you…?"

          Willow smiled. "Are part demon as well, though it's not like any of us had a choice in the matter."

          Oz shook his head slightly. "What do you mean, you didn't have a choice?"

          Sighing, Willow said, "It's really not such an interesting story."

          "Why don't you let us be the judge of that," Buffy's tone was sharp and Willow relented, sighing again.

          "Just after Dru was given back her sanity," the redhead began, "the Council picked up Spike somewhere in Italy, he was raving almost as madly as Dru used to."

          "Had a bit of an encounter with a demon," Spike explained. "Pissed him off and he turned me loony."

          "So," Willow continued, "the Council performed the same procedure they did with Dru which, I should probably explain, the Intel med's tweaked for both cases to restore at bit of their, well, conscience."

          "Are you telling me they have their souls?" Buffy snapped.

          "Not exactly," Willow said. "It's hard to explain but in effect they have a part of their soul. The part that determines moral right and wrong."

          "I don't understand, how can they have only part of a soul?"

          Willow turned to Giles. "Okay. We all that when a vampire is turned its soul is forced out of the body so that the demon can take control, right?" There were nods of understanding. "We also know that a vampire's demon is, by our standards and our standards alone, solely evil, incapable of judging any sort of moral right and wrong and that's not to say they don't know the difference between the two, quite the contrary actually, but what they perceive as right and just is, by our standards, cruel and inhuman. Follow me so far?" Again, they nodded. "Now this you may not know but a soul is made up of parts, sections, all fitting together in a sort of puzzle to make up a specific arrangement befitting only one individual and after that individual dies their soul breaks apart, each section going in search of different ones to fit together and create a completely new and unique soul designed for only one specific individual."

          "But what about Angel?" Cordelia questioned.

          Willow smiled. "Angel was a unique case. He's a Champion, chosen by the Powers That Be and offered a chance at redemption. Angel's original soul was returned to him intact," directing her gaze to Buffy she added, "both times. But don't even ask how it was pulled off because the answer is so incredibly complicated it'd take about a week to explain it all, plus, well, none of you have the clearance to be told anyway."

          "Anyway," Dru interrupted."

          "Oh, right. Back to the point," Willow answered. "About four years ago Spike and Drusilla were placed under my command, thus creating Team Songbird, and our first assignment was a basic, by-the-book retrieval."

          "What were you retrieving?" Giles asked.

          "Oh, um, some Orb of something-or-other, I don't really remember. But, like I was saying we were sent on assignment – "

          "In Berlin – " Dru added.

          "Ran in to the Orb's owner – "

          "A bloody ugly demon," Spike put it.

          "We killed the demon which, apparently, had the last laugh and before he died managed a little spell, thus our part-human, part-demon situation which, really isn't so bad I mean, we're practically impossible to kill and the demon strength has come in handy in the past."

          The Scooby's starred at Willow as though she'd suddenly sprouted another head.

          "What?"