Chapter 3

"I'm just worried about her, that's all," Willow sighed, staring out at the dimly lit dance floor of the Bronze. "You haven't seen her, Xander. She looks like…"

"Like kittens." Xander interjected, adjusting himself on the stool.

"Like…no…what?"

"Hi Buffy, how're…you?" Xander coughed, addressing the pleasantly smiling Slayer as she down beside Willow, placing a glass down on the table.

"What's like kittens?" Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows slightly, briefly smoothing out the blue bruises beneath her sagging, wrinkled, puffy green eyes.

"Um, kittens are…like…um," Willow stammered, giving Xander the evil eye. She turned back to Buffy, plastered a smile across her mouth, and attempted to look innocent. "Kittens are like kittens, of course.

"Right. So, what's goin' on Buff? You look a bit…erm…tired."

"Actually, I've been getting the best sleep of my life. For once, there are no freaky bad dreams about the oncoming apocalypse."

"Well that's, um, great. Seriously, though, Buffy; you look like you haven't seen more than hour's rest in a month. Maybe you're coming down with the flu, or something."

"Well, um, I have to go." Willow stuttered, wrenching herself from her seat.

"Go? But, Will, I just got here."

"I know, Buffy. But I have…um…homework. I'll see you later. Xander, I…"

"It's cool Will, we'll see you later."

Willow scampered at top speed out of the Bronze, rushing down the alley in the oncoming darkness. Nights like these, she wished she had some kind of wheeled transportation, even if it was only her mother's run-down Station Wagon. Chill air rushed over her shoulders, forcing her to hurry faster down the sidewalk. The shop windows were dark, small "Closed" signs hanging in doorways. Sunnydale had a creepiness to it, an ominous sense that prickled the back of the neck. Duh, you're living on a hellmouth! Willow thought to herself as she tossed herself down the steps and in front of Giles' door. The knock was deafening.

"Willow? It's late, what's wrong?" Giles blinked, setting his glasses upon the bridge of his nose.

"It's Buffy," Willow breathed over a cup of tea. "There's something…you should see her, Giles."

"She looks a little tired, but she's under a lot of stress, with school, the commandos…"

"Giles, it's more than that. It's like she's possessed. She isn't sleeping well, but she sleeps all night, and even through classes. It looks like she's coming down with the flu, but she isn't sick at all. I did some reading, as much as I could at the library at school, but all I could find was this demon called an incubus."

"Yes, an incubus is a demon that sucks the energy out of a sleeping woman through means of intercourse. The creature is also said to use the sleeper as a host for offspring. But incubi aren't documented by the Watcher's Council. It's only a myth, told by religious zealots to comprehend children born out of wedlock, or women in comas, or a series of bad dreams."

"Oh." Willow frowned, taking another sip of tea.

"However, there is a tale of…hmmm…" Giles stalked to the wall of bookshelves, extracting a few volumes and stacking them on the coffee table. Willow reached for one of the books, dragging it onto her lap.

"Giles, this is a mythology book."

"Mythology is more than just legend, Willow. The stories were used to explain supernatural and natural occurrences. After all, the Greeks knew very little about demons and witchcraft. They were philosophers, people of reason and logic. The supernatural is very rarely logical."

"Well, that's true. But still, Giles…do you really think that this will do the trick?"

"Back at school, I recall seeing a recreation of Eros and Psyche by Alexander Cordova. The original is inside the Louvre, in Paris, but there are replicas all over the world. Eros and Psyche appears, to the normal observer, a story of romance, but it is more sinister than that. Essentially, the story goes that Eros is commanded by Aphrodite to shoot Psyche with his bow and arrow and thus curse her to never find love. Unfortunately, Eros falls in love with the beautiful Psyche himself. The West Wind carries Psyche to a beautiful palace, where she's attended all day by invisible servants, and at night, in the darkness, she and Eros consummate the marriage, though Eros remains anonymous. Each day is the same, so that Eros visits Psyche and they have intercourse. But one night, thanks to her jealous sisters, Psyche lights a lamp to reveal the form of her husband, and accidently awakens him by dropping hot oil on his body. The story continues, and Psyche and Eros are eventually married."

"I'm confused about the supernatural part."

"Eros and Psyche are not a couple in love, Willow, but an explanation of a woman's descent into sleeping sickness." Giles frowned, opening a large dusty book and placing it on his lap. "According to actual recorded accounts, Psyche was the most beautiful woman in her region, desired by all men and envied by all women. Even temple leaders desired her, to make her a sacrifice to their gods. Two powerful women, by all accounts witches of the most evil variety, cast a curse upon Psyche, that she might never find a husband or lover. To achieve the curse, a demon is called from the depths of Hell to seduce Psyche, and keep her from ever taking an interest in any other person. Each night, the demon, appropriately called an Eros, visits Psyche while she sleeps, giving her lifelike dreams of intercourse with the perfect man she most desires. Each morning, Psyche awakens less beautiful, less desirable. Psyche's sisters, the jealous girls mentioned in the myth, save Psyche before it is too late. They stay with her during the night, and when they hear her dreaming, they light three enchanted candles at points around her bed. A spell is cast, and the demon is banished, defeated by the sisters' magic."

"This Eros demon, you think this is what's visiting Buffy in her dreams?"

"Has she told you about the dreams, Willow? What are they about?"

"…Well, they're about Angel. They're all about Angel."