**

A/N- This chapter is yet again dedicated to Balloonphobia- for harassing me into updating.

**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Well?" Rupert Giles said expectantly.

Liam looked at him wearily. After his...fight, lord he hated to say it, with Buffy, he was tired and emotionally drained. He just wanted to curl up in his bed and sleep, preferably with Buffy in his arms, and not wake up for a very long time.

"'Well' what? She wouldn't come," Liam said frustratedly, moving to leave the room. His bed was very inviting at the moment. He needed to sleep. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning. Maybe this would be all better in the morning. Maybe he'd wake up and find himself back in his bedroom in Galway, still a thirteen-year-old child with a sister and mother and father who loved him.

Liam mentally shook himself. No, he didn't really wish for that. If that were the case, he never would have met Buffy. She was part of him, and had been ever since she had said those few words to her father. She was still a child, but wise beyond her years.

"Then I set him free."

He could still feel the coarse ropes rubbing on his wrists, ripping his skin raw. He could still feel the sharp pains in his side where William the Bloody had kicked him, over and over, without mercy.

He was eternally grateful to the small little girl who had freed him. He hadn't known what a beautiful young woman she would become. So he settled for the best friendship he'd ever had and found something more.

He rubbed his temple furiously, trying to relieve some of the stress that had built there since earlier in the evening. If he were conscious of his actions, he would have been surprised to see how much they mirrored Buffy's whenever she was angry or frustrated.

"What do you mean, 'she wouldn't come?'" Giles irritated voice jolted him back to reality.

"She wouldn't come. That's it. We argued and she cried. Can I go?" Liam said, his frustration evident by the tone of his voice. He wanted to sleep. Now. Badly.

Giles was about to reply "No! Don't you understand how important this is? The fate of the world depends on her!" but the look on Liam's face stopped his. A spiritless, dejected air had overtaken the young man, who although was never openly happy, was never so despondent.

Giles sighed. Liam really was in love with the Princess. Liam was unhappy because she was unhappy, and even more so because he was the cause of it. He sighed again, although this time it was because a memory had overtaken him. Every time he had ever fought with Jenny-- he looked exactly like Liam did now.

"I'm sorry, but you have to tell me everything. What happened exactly? What did she say?" he asked gently.

"She was…god, Giles, she was so scared. She said she was seeing things, in her dreams, blood and people dying. She was scared. The Buffy I know doesn't get scared. The Buffy I know-- she wouldn't have let a dream scare her."

If Giles took note of Liam's use of Elizabeth's nickname, he didn't say anything. He was lost in thought, and he murmured to himself softly, as though he was the only person in the room. "I would imagine the dreams would be very traumatic, although I wonder if-"

"Giles!" Liam said forcefully, breaking the older man's train of thought.

"Hmm…Yes?" he said disorientedly.

"What is wrong with her? Why is she afraid of going to sleep?" Liam asked, his worry coming through in his voice, along with his anger, frustration and sadness. Liam was a torrent of emotions, a whirlwind of pain and love and anger that could it been colored would have been as vivid and shaded as the full spectrum of the rainbow. And he couldn't help it. He couldn't just stop feeling.

"It is standard for a Slayer to receive prophetic dreams, as part of her Calling. I have heard of a few cases in which the Slayer had seen the deaths of the previous Slayers before them, but never in detail. Of course, Elizabeth may be an exception to all that, considering she was not raised in the traditional ways of the Slayer. She wasn't trained from birth. The Watchers were too afraid of the political ramifications of taking the Princess away from her parents. Although, I wonder if maybe it would have been better if-"

"Giles!" Liam interrupted the older man again, his frustration growing with every second. He wanted to get out of here. Now. Desperately. He wanted everything to be okay when he woke up tomorrow. But that couldn't happen unless he went to sleep first.

"Oh…my apologies… Yes, you can go. I guess I'll just have to speak to the Princess myself then. I was hoping that she would listen to you. Our last meeting wasn't so… cordial," the older man sighed. "Oh well," he continued, a far-off look in his eyes.

Liam nearly wept in relief. He was so... tired. He felt like he was going to drop right there on Giles' couch. As he lazily trudged home, he barely heard the insults Riley hurled at him as he passed, barely saw the look of concern that crossed Gunn's face as he entered the barracks.

He sank blissfully into unconsciousness, praying for a dreamless sleep. Everything would be better in the morning. It would. It had to be. Because he didn't know what he would do if it wasn't.

At that same moment, Darla was just awakening. The storm raged outside, but she was unaware of the rain that was falling in droves. She was completely focused on the task at hand.

Planning.

"Everything must be perfect!" she yelled, her rage apparent. "The Council of Elders will come to order tomorrow! Tomorrow! Every major Master on the continent will converge, and they aren't going to be happy if we have nothing to show them!"

Druscilla was at her side immediately, emitting a soft whining sound and hanging on her arm, like a child clinging to its mother. Dressed in a formal gown, aptly colored a deep blood red, the vampiress spoke. "Mummy, mummy," she said in a dreamy voice. "You worry too much. The stars say that the Slayer will die. It's all painted out, pretty as a picture. Death and destruction." She giggled insanely.

Darla looked at her favorite childe with interest. Druscilla's 'visions' were very temperamental, but most of the time they were correct. "Really? Go on," she prompted, but Dru's mind had already wandered elsewhere. She was in this state most of the time, but Darla knew that much of it was for show. In her periods of lucidity, Dru was almost as vicious and evil as she was.

"I'm naming all the stars," Druscilla said in that same dreamy tone, looking upwards.

Darla snorted at her childe. "You can't see the stars, Dru, that's the ceiling. Also, it's raining."

Druscilla frowned at her Mummy. "I can see them," she said indignantly. She started to shake, "But I've named them all the same name, and there's terrible confusion. Terrible confusion," she stressed to Darla.

"Psst. Psst. Psst" she whispered, trying to get Darla's attention. "We're going to kill the Slayer," she laughed again, twirling and dancing like a little girl. "We're going to kill the Slayer," she repeated, continuing her dance.

Darla smiled.

**

END CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A/N- REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! (must I keep going?) REVIEW!

Okay, I think you've got the point. Reviews, people, REVIEWS! They help me write faster.

Thanks to anyone who reviewed last chapter-

never look back, misskittyfantastico12889, jacey, TK, Anna, Fi, AngelRose4, jess, and Baloonphobia. Muchas gracias.

Love, d