Giles sat in his room, still pondering the surprising events of that day.
"Buffy is in Willow," he said to himself. "I wonder if we can get her out? But to where? Buffy's body is dead. There are the resurrection spells - but those are impossible, even for witches as powerful as Willow and Tara, I'd think."
He poured himself a glass of sherry and tossed it back quickly.
"My head hurts," he announced to the curtains behind him as he began shuffling off to bed.
"How do we get her out of my head?" Willow asked Tara.
"CAN we get her out is the question," Tara said.
"Well, we did get your brain from Glory - I can show you how I did it, maybe you can retrieve Buffy's mind from mine," Willow said. "But then what?"
"I ... I don't know," Tara replied softly. "With Buffy dead, short of a resurrection spell, I can't imagine. But we can't even go there."
"No, of course not," Willow said. "But we've already altered nature by taking her mind ... would it be so bad to reanimate her body?"
"Do you know what you're asking yourself to do, Wills?" Tara asked. "I've seen the rituals. I've read the books. It's aweful."
"But ... Tara ... if she doesn't come back, I'll be the Slayer," Willow said. "And I'm not one to go all kickbox-y and stuff. I'm the smart one, not the strong one."
"That's where you're wrong, Willow," Tara said. "I've seen what you can do with Buffy's mind in yours. I think, until we figure out something, you'll be great. And you have your magic to aid you."
"But ... I c-c-could get killed," Willow said. "Or vamped. I've seen Vamp Willow. Didn't like her. Except her clothes. Those were OK. Don't wanna do that again." Her voice caught as emotions overwhelmed her.
Willow wept into her pillow. She felt a soothing wave of understanding roll over her - but it wasn't Tara.
"I know, Will, I felt the same way when I found out about my destiny ... that I might not see my senior prom ... spend any time in college ... see my 25th birthday ... but I survived ... my death was my own ... you can do it ..."
"But Buffy, you're the Slayer, not me ..." she whispered softly.
"I need you to live for me, now, Willow," the thought rolled over her. "I'll be here. Giles will be here. Even the peroxide addict will be here for you."
Willow lifted her head and looked at Tara, her green eyes dark with tears.
"I'll do it," she said. "For Buffy."
Tara reached over and wrapped Willow's trembling body in her arms. "I love you," she whispered
"And I love you," Willow whispered softly. "Just hold me, Tara?"
"I'll never let you go, sweetie," she replied.
"WHAT?" Spike yelled at Giles, standing in the Magic Box. "Red has got the Slayer's mind and powers?"
"Yes, it appears that way," Giles said.
"Bloody 'ell," Spike said, looking dumbfounded. "How did that happen?"
"It seems that Willow was successful in her attempts to retrieve Buffy's mind, her essence, before she died, contrary to what we thought," Giles explained.
"So get her out!" Spike said.
"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple," Giles said. "What we have is a dead body and we have an essence in another body. It's not quite as simple to just put the essence in the body. You need a live body for anything to be remotely possible."
"So?" Spike said. "Even I've been around long enough to know about resurrection spells - or at least reanimation spells."
"Good God, man, do you know what you're asking? You have to find at least an Urn of Osiris, and the wine of life, and that's not counting that you're BRINGING SOMEBODY BACK FROM THE DEAD," Giles said loudly.
"Not really," Spike said. "Just her body is dead."
"How do you know she won't be a zombie?" Giles asked.
"'Night of the Living Dead'" Spike said. "That's a typical night in Sunnydale, anyways. Romero thought he was so creative."
He paused, taking a drag from his omnipresent cigarette.
"I was just asking, anyways," Spike said. "I gotta go check on Red on patrol."
Willow walked quietly down the road, her step noiseless but unhurried. She neared the cemetery, her eyes mindful of vampires that could be lurking in the shadows. Seeing none and sensing none, she moved forward. Stepping stealthily around the tombstones, she walked toward a crypt.
"Spirits of the land and sky, lend to me your seeing eye, let me see the demons near, to help me get around my fear," Willow murmered her spell softly.
In a glow of green just in her peripheral vision, she saw the drooling-mouthed vision of a G'Nar demon - a demon that invaded dreams and stole sanity.
Willow panicked briefly. "Vamps I know. Not hard. Swish, poke, poof. But demons? I can't carry books on patrol," she whispered. "What am I supposed to do?"
"G'Nar. Vulnerable to copper-based items. Also to decapitation - like most things." A wave of amusement rolled over Willow. She gulped as she realized she'd forgotten the axe at her dorm, just carrying her own spike.
"Nice demon," she said, looking at its red eyes. "Don't suppose nice demon would go away, would he?"
"Noooo," it growled in response.
"S'pose not. That'd be easy." Willow said.
The demon leaped at her, snarling. She snapped a perfect high-kick into its chin, knocking it backwards. It leaped back up and approached her again, this time a little more warily. It reached and backhanded her, sending her sprawling.
Willow rolled with the punch. The demon followed, pummeling her slender body. A cry of pain burst from the redhead's lips.
"Copper, Willow, copper," the thought crossed her mind. Slipping a hand into her jeans, she came up with a handful of pennies. She tried to throw them at the demon, but it grabbed her hand and shook them loose, slapping her again.
"No!" she yelled.
The demon grabbed her, holding her face outward, and crushed her against its body. She groaned in pain, feeling her ribs creaking. Seeing the coins on the ground, she tried to concentrate. Imposing her will, murmering a spell, she levitated the coins briefly.
"Hey ugly!" she yelled. "Take that!"
She ducked her head down, mentally flinging the coins at the demon. To her surprise, the coins flew through the demons body, springing leaks of green goo. With a shower of entrails, the demon exploded.
"Eeeew!" Willow grimaced, picking a length of what appeared to be intestine off her shoulder.
"Nice going, Red," an arrogant voice said.
Smelling the cigarettes he smoked before she saw him, Willow said, "Spike."
"Don't act so pleased to see me," Spike said. "Nice improvisation there, actually. I don't know where Wicca powers will get you with vamps, but hey."
"And thank YOU for helping me out, since you obviously watched me get beat," Willow snapped.
"Oh, sod off, you weren't in THAT much trouble," Spike said.
"And you weren't the one getting entrails all over you, either, now were you?" Willow questioned.
Stepping closer to her, Spike looked in her eyes, searching for something. "I don't know," he said to himself. "I don't see her."
"Her?" Willow said.
"G told me. Buffy in you and what-not. I tried to talk him into a resurrection spell so we could get Buffy out of you," Spike said.
"Oh, you just want her back so you can get with her," Willow said.
"Jealous, are you, pet?" Spike said, sidling up to her, his eyes dark and dangerous.
"You wish," Willow snapped as she began walking.
"Oh, and you don't want her back, Red?" Spike snarled, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around to face him. "What kind of a friend are you?"
"A mortal friend," she said softly. "One who can STILL die."
"And tell me you want to be the Slayer forever? Or until ..." Spike said.
"Shut up, Spike," she snarled, punching him, and running for the street again.