Lindsay turned out to be otherwise engaged for that night, but Willow was so excited that she would finally be able to see her the very next evening that she took the news very well. Her glowing mood was a sharp contrast to Spike's, who'd been melodramatically grumbling ever since Buffy and Willow had interrupted his dinner to tell him all about their 'great idea'. If Buffy hadn't been making gestures behind Willow's back that implied he would be well-rewarded, he might've turned them down flat.

Still, I've done a lot worse for her, he thought fondly as he watched them, nestled into the corner of the couch and chattering happily. He dreaded the day when she realized just how wrapped around her finger he really was. Though, perhaps dying for her was a fair hint…

The next morning, Willow took Buffy aside again before the rest of the household had awoken, a thought having occurred to her late that evening. With everything that was going on, she might not see Lindsay again before Christmas, yet she didn't have a gift to bring her. Her plight was so sweet, and she looked so distressed about it that Buffy took pity on her. After a quick word with Spike, she snuck Willow's keys out of Giles's bedroom and the two were off, headed for the shops.

Spike promised to keep their secret as long as he could, but he was not pleased about their excursion. Particularly since the sun had returned that day, so he was confined indoors by default. Buffy assured him it would be a quick trip, but took her Scythe for good measure, if only to placate him. She'd beaten worse than the witch with little else!

To make his job a little easier, they were rushing through their shopping as quickly as Willow's perfectionism would allow. She had such a hard time settling on one particular gift that she selected several; Buffy's favorite of which being an adjustable ankle clip meant to be worn while out for a jog. The manufacturers likely intended it to be used for carrying a large pocket knife, but it was the perfect size for a small stake, and Buffy wound up grabbing two for herself as well.

Making their way outside with their purchases, they were relieved to see the sky clouding over, close to snowing for the second day in a row.

"Thank God," sighed Buffy. "I don't think I can handle having Spike stuck inside, he gets so moody when he can't go out!"

"Sure," Willow laughed. "And you were so miserable yesterday, napping with him for hours when the sun came out in the afternoon…"

"Hey!" Buffy blushed at the implication. "We were napping! Really! …Got it all out of our system yesterday..." It was a lie, and not a good one. As if it's ever out of our system these days, with all the 'catching up' we're still doing...

Willow didn't have a chance to tease her further, as a loud scream sounded from nearby, and Buffy jumped into a fighting stance on instinct. Grabbing Willow's hand to keep her firmly behind her, Buffy followed the sound around the back of the building to find a familiar scene; a vampire attack in the shadows. Freeing her Scythe, Buffy rushed at the pair, realizing a moment too late that both victim and attacker were very familiar…

"So," Giles frowned at Spike. "You mean to tell me now that they went to Xander's, hours before he's usually awake, told no one but you, and you didn't remember until just now?"

Spike paced anxiously. He'd managed to avoid him most of the morning, but Giles had been interviewing him for several minutes now and he was running out of good answers. Particularly since Buffy should've been back by now. Willow was confident in her advantage over the other witch, but Buffy was less so, and would never have allowed her to risk over two hours of limited protection.

"What's with the twenty questions? I told you all I know!" Spike tried to edge away from the conversation as best he could, but Giles was looking right through him, with a stern look on his face reminiscent of the look Buffy used to give him in the early days… Goddamnit, where is she? The thought of her, and another glance at the clock, and he knew he'd have to give it up. Whatever trouble she'd be in for decieving Giles wasn't worth it.

"Fine," Spike sighed. "She and Red, they went out. They said they'd be back in an hour, supposed to be back before you even pried yourself off your mattress… But that was two hours back, and where the bloody hell is she?" Spike kicked at the couch, swearing as his foot made impact with the solid wood frame.

Giles stared at him for a moment, a mix of anger and worry building inside him.

"Come on then," He said curtly. "Grab a blanket. You're going to tell me exactly where they are, and you're coming with me. Whether or not it kills you."

Spike nodded. He no intention of arguing. His girl was missing…

He may not have needed to, but he was breathing quite fast by the time they made it to the lot where Willow's car was still sitting. There was just enough cloud cover for Spike, and the moment Giles pulled his car beside Willow's he was out of the door, pausing only for a few seconds to smell the air before taking off at a dead run towards the buildings. What panicked him most was the strongest scent he caught: Buffy's blood. Every bound seemed slower than the last as he ran, his joints aching at the request to move so much faster than they were usually required to.

It took him less than thirty seconds to reach her side, but it felt much longer to his aching body. As she finally came into view, Spike's anger burst forth so strongly that he slipped into his demon visage, letting loose an unearthly cry of rage.

"Buffy, BUFFY!" He sprung to her side, hitting his knees hard on the asphalt. She was alone, slumped against a metal trash bin, her head resting on a large spatter of blood that he knew from the scent was her own. Carefully, he leaned her forward, taking her into his arms. Her heart was beating, and her breathing was even; she was alive, but unconscious. From the looks of her head wound, she'd been slammed hard onto the uneven metal surface… must've caught a vein, thankfully not an artery… definitely has a concussion. As he rocked her back and forth, he realized how urgent it was for her to open her eyes.

"Buffy, Buffy, please…" he murmured, running his hands over her face, her hair... Blood was no longer flowing from the wound on her head; the gash seemed to be shallow for how much it had bled, but she wasn't coming to. Panic clear even with inhuman eyes, he stared up at the out-of-breath Giles, words catching in his throat. Fix her, just bloody fix her...

Giles stepped forward, kneeling beside them both, struggling to keep his breathing even. Closing his eyes, he placed one hand on either side of her forehead, a soft glow forming at his fingertips.

"Eripite hanc magicae," he spoke softly, and Buffy's eyes fluttered open, both men's eyes watering with relief.

Exhausted from the run and the use of power, Giles leaned backwards, his head resting near where Buffy's had been a moment before.

"Spike?" Buffy touched his wrinkled forehead, which slid back into his human face under her touch. "Where's Willow? Oh God…" her eyes locked onto Giles as she looked around. "Giles, I'm so sorry… this is all my fault…"

"Well, yes," he said, smiling at her a little despite his worry. "When will you learn to listen to your old Watcher?"

"Someday, I promise." Buffy groaned, standing gingerly with Spike's help. "The witch has Willow. And my Scythe, apparently… greedy bitch."

"You're damn lucky she didn't kill you," Spike said bitterly. He quickly regretted his harshness when Buffy met his eyes, clearly awash with guilt already. "Sorry love, I didn't mean-"

"Buffy!" Angel seemed to appear out of nowhere, rushing towards them and taking Buffy's free hand, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay? Giles told me you might need help, what happened?"

"Watcher told you what?" Spike whirled to look at Giles, eyes flashing. "You called him? She's my girl, I'm perfectly capable-"

"Enough." Giles shoved Spike to the ground as he stood. "As I've told you both, this is bigger than your petty, childish drama. Buffy and WILLOW both need your help. We all need to be working together, and I don't want to hear another word about it."

"I agree." Buffy winced again, stretching gently, still trying to evaluate the extent of her own injuries. Broken rib, right side… nearly broken right wrist as well… I've had worse. "What we need to do, right now, is find Willow. Giles, do you think you can do some kind of spell to track her down?"

"He won't need to," said Angel. "I know where they are."

"Should've let me kill her," Drusilla pouted, scratching small lines into the skin of their captive, watching the small droplets of blood drip onto the filthy floor. "Been a long time since I've had a chance as nice as that…"

"Absolutely not," Renata sighed. "Slayer's got friends; we leave her dead, we have an army at our doors. Doubt they could rally so much support for a silly little thing like this. Besides, they'll have a nice distraction now, fussing over their injured lady leader instead of bothering us."

"But it would've hurt my Spikey… He deserves some lovely pain, that dirty... little... traitor…." With each of the last three words, Drusilla pulled small clumps of red hair from Willow's head, who slowly stirred at the sudden pain.

Renata didn't respond. She had grown tired of Drusilla and her little vendetta. Precious time that could've been used to further their cause had been wasted on setting all manner of nasties after the vampiress's 'ex,' with nothing to show for it. Bastard should've been dust by now, at the very least...

Leaning forward, she mumbled a phrase under her breath in Latin, and Willow glowed softly, her breathing slowing almost to a stop as her movements ceased completely.

"There, now she's under plenty deeply for our little procedure. Leave her be, we'll need her strength. She won't survive this, but I certainly plan to."

Lifting her hands again, she placed one directly onto the Scythe's handle. She began to speak in a low hum, and the weapon under her right hand reverberated along with her voice, quickly becoming so hot she thought she might be burned. As the sparks begin to fly, she sucked in a sharp breath; the Slayer's weapon itself was fighting her, but she had more power than just her own. Smiling, she placed her other hand on Willow's forearm, tightening her grip until she could feel the other woman's faint pulse. The crystal on her neck glowed brightly, and she gasped with pleasure and surprise as she felt the intense power of the other witch begin to flow through her body and into her own spell, more than she'd ever expected the small girl to possess. This… will work quite nicely.