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Title: Things Seen Light and music spilled out into the alley as the door to the Bronze swung open. Willow's delighted laughter ended on a choked scream as her eyes moved away from Xander's grinning face as she stepped outside. Her trembling hand flew to her mouth as Willow gagged helplessly. "Will?" Buffy said, her voice suddenly tense and worried. She pushed past Xander's still form and slid past Willow. A stake slid into her hand, and Buffy's senses strained outwards in search of anything which would threaten her friends. Willow's eyes rolled desperately, and she shook her head faintly. Xander moved up behind her, his hand resting against her hunched shoulder. His face was pale, his lips twisting soundlessly. "There," Xander finally managed to grunt, the short word devoid of the laughter present in his voice even in the most dangerous of times. Buffy's eyes swung in the direction in which Xander's chin had jutted out, and she drew in a shocked breath. "Good God..." Buffy breathed, cautiously inching forward. She cast a glance over her shoulder, observing the pallor in both of her friends' faces. "Xander, get Willow out of here... go tell Giles," she said, determined to spare both of them any further trauma. Willow and Xander shook their heads in unison. "Forget it, Buffy!" Willow said, carefully avoiding looking beyond Buffy's slight frame. "I'm fine, and I'm not leaving you alone here with whatever... did _that_." "What she said," Xander stated. He stepped back, drawing Willow with him, until they were pressed up against the wall. His breath was low and ragged, his hands shaking against Willow's. Buffy turned her back to her friends, and hunkered down next to the form splayed out on the garbage strewn ground. The pale pink material that constituted the girl's skirt had been nudged up over her hips, leaving the rest of her soft, bronzed skin exposed. The tiny scrap of lacy underwear had been shredded from her body, deep red gouges marring her flesh where her attacker's nails had dug deep. Buffy's eyes reluctantly moved up the blood splattered cloth covering the girl's chest, and over the unbroken skin of her neck. Her face was framed by a halo of curled light brown hair, and wide, disbelieving blue eyes -- prominent in her thin face, stared up at the night sky sightlessly. Her skin was hot, almost painfully so, when Buffy cautiously reached out to brush a probing hand over her neck. Buffy pulled back with a hiss, and rocked back on her heels in shock as the inert body before her twitched. Stumbling to her feet, the Slayer's hand tightened around her almost forgotten stake. She moved back a step, ignoring Willow's soft whimpers behind her. The girl's body shuddered, a black stain blossoming beneath her skin where Buffy's hand had rested. It spiralled outwards, rapidly claiming the rest of her flesh. For a moment, the girl's blackened body stilled it's unnatural twitches before her form disintegrated before the three teens' eyes. Willow's hands eagerly wrapped around the hot mug of tea that Giles had urged upon them when the three of them had spilled into his apartment. She wrinkled her nose slightly when she tasted the liqueur that Giles had generously added to the hot liquid, but drank deeply nonetheless. Her eyes darted over to Xander, seated at her side, so close that his arm bumped into hers every time he moved. She distantly noted that he had drained almost half of his cup already. As she watched, he took another sip of the drink, letting it flow down his throat until he couldn't hold anymore. She could hear muted Giles' voice drifting out from the kitchen. He had left she and Xander in the living room, safely settled on the couch with their numbing blend of tea and alcohol while he gently grilled Buffy apart from them. He obviously thought that neither she nor Xander were up to questioning, or hearing Buffy's version of what they had seen. Willow would have vehemently argued his decision had her stomach not still been roiling. "I can't believe it..." Xander said, his voice wavering. "I mean... we've seen plenty of bad stuff, but... she... she was..." He shook his head, the cup rising to his lips again. Xander glared into the mug's interior when he discovered that he had already drained it all. "Yeah," Willow responded, her own voice weak and distressingly distant. "That... That was Ingrid, wasn't it?" she said, remembering the withdrawn young woman who had sat behind her in math class. 'She'd barely been in Sunnydale for a month, and all ready she's one of its' victims...' Xander stiffened against her, his breath coming out in a low hiss. "Ingrid?" he echoed. He closed his eyes briefly, and saw her spread out on the ground. He hadn't known it was her... he hadn't known her well enough when she was alive to recognize her face in the stunned horror of the moment. Somehow, giving her a name, a _life_, made the memory of her death all the more horrible. He hadn't believed that it could be possible to feel any worse. Buffy moved out of the kitchen, her steps slow and loud against the floor. Her head titled back, and her eyes burned in determination. "Whatever killed that girl is going to have an intimate encounter with Giles' vast array of weapons," she stated. "Once we find out what it was..." she concluded, her shoulders slumping slightly. Giles followed the Slayer out of the kitchen, his hand briefly resting against her shoulder in a comforting gesture before he pulled away. "We'll find the culprit," he told them with fierce determination. "I'll begin researching tonight, and Buffy will get in contact with Spike. Perhaps he will have heard something about a creature capable of this." "And us?" Willow asked, shifting on the couch to see the Watcher better. "I want you and Xander to go home and to get some rest. The two of you are obviously upset, and with good reason, and--" Willow shook her head stubbornly. "No! I _need_ to help, Giles! Even if I do go home, I'll be up all night anyway..." She looked at him pleadingly. "I need to be doing something useful, Giles. Please." Giles eyes shifted between Willow and Xander, huddled together on the couch, and he finally nodded. "Fine, I will admit that this will go quicker with your help. But only if you truly feel capable of helping," he added firmly. "Agreed," Xander said. "I'll go hunt down Spike," Buffy said, drawing her jacket closer around her. "Be careful, Buffy," Giles cautioned. She nodded once and slipped out the door into the waiting darkness. Giles stared after her for a long moment before shaking aside his immediate worry. He looked at the two children in his home and sighed. "Let's go." Willow burrowed under her covers until only her nose and eyes could be seen. She shivered slightly, her green eyes warily digging into the darkened corners of her room. The house was silent save for the occasional creak as it settled -- her parents had left town several days earlier and were not planning to return for several days yet. At the moment, she found herself wishing for their presence with a longing that she hadn't felt for years. She had long since learned to accept that when there was a choice between her and the world of travel, business and leisure that her parents indulged in, she came in a poor second. That long acknowledged fact did little to soothe her fear. She briefly wondered what it would be like to have her parents sleeping within reach, just down the hall from her own room. Willow irritably banished that thought as useless. They weren't with her, and even if they had been, they could do little to shield her from the dangers of the Hellmouth. 'I should have went with Buffy...' Willow thought, recalling that the Slayer had been insistent that she should stay with her and Mrs. Summers until the monster was taken care of or her own parents came home. The prospect of being safely surrounded by others -- especially the Slayer herself, had been appealing. Willow had refused the other girl's offer only because she knew that the Slayer would not be there for her forever. 'I have to be able to deal with these types of things myself. Nothing is going to happen. _Nothing_,' she stressed mentally. The image of Ingrid's splayed body tumbling to black ash sprung into her mind, and Willow shuddered. It had been two days since they had encountered the girl's body in the alley behind the Bronze, and as of yet, they had had no luck in discovering what had killed her. The police were still labelling the case a runaway, but those who knew Ingrid had suspected that she was just one more victim of Sunnydale's strange happenings. Not, Willow thought sadly, that there had been many friends to worry about the girl, anyway. Ingrid had been new to town, and her heart and mind had been too focused on her old home for her to open up to the people of Sunnydale. 'She died among strangers, miles away from the people she really cared about.' Spike had been of no more use than the many books that the Slayerettes had poured through. Buffy had reported that the vampire had known of no unusual activity in Sunnydale's demonic underside. Buffy had looked slightly skeptical as she repeated Spike's words, unsure that such a monstrous creature could have arrived or awakened within the town limits without setting off alarms among the vampire population. Willow hadn't doubted Spike's truthfulness. The thought of the blond vampire sent Willow's thoughts reeling in a different, if only slightly less disturbing direction. She flushed slightly, picturing Spike's cocky grin. Since he had been roped into helping them, Willow found herself paying a distressingly large amount of time observing the vampire, and when he was safely out of sight, her traitorous thoughts seemed to delight in dredging up images of him within her mind. 'I'm sick, there's no other explanation. That's me, sicko, nutty Rosenberg,' she thought miserably. 'I mean, what next? I'll be lusting after Snyder, the next thing I know! Although his body isn't even a fraction as nice as--' Willow cut herself off before she wandered into territory that she didn't want to address even in the safety of her own thoughts. Willow groaned, her heavy eyelids drifting shut, cutting off the sight of the stars studded night sky framed by her balcony doors. She tugged the blankets closer around her, images of Ingrid's blackening, shuddering body fighting for prominence in her dreams with the memory of a deep pair of blue eyes. Every eye in the library was focused on the doors when Spike strode into the room, his leather duster fanning out behind him. He ignored the three teens seated at the table, nearly overwhelmed by the books piled before them, and headed towards Giles. The Watcher placed his own musty volume on the table, glad to tear his eyes away from the pale, wavering script scrawled across the painfully yellowed pages. He blinked, moisture filling his burning eyes. "Spike," Giles nodded, fighting back the unease he felt whenever they were forced to deal with the vampire. "I expect that you have news," Giles concluded, knowing that the older man would not have approached the library for any other reason. Spike nodded slightly, his fingers absently twirling an unlighted cigarette about. "It's some sort of bloody shapechanger," he told the group. "It got one of mine tonight," he added. "A demon that snacks on other demons?" Xander muttered, running a hand through his already mussed hair. Spike ignored the boy. "She was still just a fledgling, barely a year old. She wandered off, babbling something about seeing her husband. Bloody stupid chit," he grumbled, "she would have killed the wanker within days of being turned." "That's what you're basing you claim on?" Giles said wearily. "She may have been an obnoxious twit of a woman, but my minions are not prone to random hallucinations," Spike growled. "Besides, have your devout little white-hats come up with anything better?" He stuffed the cigarette, still unlit, into his mouth and glared about the room. Willow looked up from her computer. "It is a reasonable assumption, Giles." Three sets of eyes swerved to stare at her, and Willow shrunk in her seat slightly. "I mean, it can't hurt to look, can it? And it will narrow the search, right?" she expanded, looking relieved when Buffy and Xander's attention bounced back towards the Watcher. Giles nodded his head slowly, thoughtfully. "I suppose that you are correct, Willow." He shuffled through the stack of books, pulling a dark blue volume from near the bottom of the pile into the light. "Shapechangers..." he muttered softly. The others turned back towards their own books, and Spike turned on his heel, moving back towards the door. He stopped briefly when Willow's low voice drifted towards him. "Thanks, Spike," he heard her sigh. Without turning back, he pushed out of the library. Willow wiped the last droplets of water from her face with the fluffy pink towel hanging next to the sink. She leaned forward, critically staring at her drawn face and the dark circles under her eyes. They had been working long hours at the library, immersed in research. She would have still been surrounded by books and motionless in front of her glowing computer screen had she not been given an hour's time for a quick shower, change of clothes, and a chance to brush her teeth. 'Goddess, what a time to be worrying about my looks!' Willow chided herself as she padded into her bedroom. She dropped onto her bed, tugging a pair of jeans over her slim legs. Shirt and bra shortly replaced the slightly damp nightgown that had been clinging to her, and Willow rose to her feet. She jumped, a short screech tearing past her lips when she saw the shadowy form at her window. Her heart thudding frantically, Willow inched around her bed, her trembling fingers fumbling for the stake that she kept in the drawer of her night-stand. She pulled it out with one hand, while the other struggled with her telephone. Shifting the stake so that it was held by hip and elbow, Willow punched in the familiar number that would connect her with the library. "Yes?" Giles slightly harried but still polite voice inquired. "It's Willow," the hacker gasped, cautiously moving around her bed and creeping towards the door where the dark figure still stood. "There's someone here," she said, fear making her voice waver. Giles' voice was sharp when he answered. "Don't move! Buffy will be right there!" The figure moved, it's face pressing up against the window. Willow's knees went weak, and she nearly began to laugh in unconstrained hysteria. Her voice trembled only slightly when she spoke again. "Never mind, Giles. False alarm," Willow told the anxious Watcher. She settled the receiver back into its cradle, and let both drop onto her bed. Spike was smirking when she finally slid open her door. The night air was cool against her damp flesh, and Willow shivered slightly. "What are you doing here?! You _scared_ me!" Willow exclaimed angrily, her heart still thudding unevenly. "Sorry, pet," he grinned, obviously not sorry in the slightest. "That bloody Slayer of yours insisted that I bring you to the library," Spike said, shrugging slightly. "I would have refused the wench's demand, but I never could give up the chance to be alone with a beautiful lady." Willow looked at him suspiciously. "Beautiful lady?" she repeated dubiously. "Are you sure that vampires don't suffer from random hallucinations?" she asked, quoting his earlier words. Willow waved off Spike's words when he opened his mouth to answer. "Never mind, I'd rather not know what's going on in that head of yours!" "You'd find nothing but praise for you, luv," Spike smiled. Willow swayed a moment, feeling strangely lightheaded. His words, her surroundings, everything seemed to swirl and bleed together for one brief, terrifying moment. And then everything snapped back into place, leaving Willow wondering if she had felt anything at all. She looked at Spike and felt delightfully giddy, her annoyingly analytical thoughts fading into nothingness. She laughed and stepped out of the safety of her room, offering her hand to Spike. He clasped it, his flesh wonderfully warm against her own. Giles looked at the phone still resting in his hand, his eyes wide in horror. The low buzz of the phone seemed loud in the otherwise silent room. He tore his eyes away from the dead instrument, shifting to face the anxiously awaiting group behind him. "What was it, Giles?" Buffy demanded. "Where do I have to go?" She knew, even as she asked. The only other person who would be calling the library and who could exact such a response from Giles was Willow. And her Watcher's expression clearly said trouble. She feared that she knew exactly what form that trouble was in, too. They had found their demon, barely five minutes before the shrill ring of the telephone had cut through their excited babble. 'A shapechanger... a _lure_,' Buffy thought with sudden terror. It had been horrifying to think that Ingrid had willingly left the Bronze with a monster wearing the form of someone that she loved, a monster who had build off her love so that a bigger, nastier demon could feed off of her energy. The situation took on a whole new degree of horror when she applied that situation to Willow. "Maybe it's something else," Giles said hopefully. He looked around the room, seeing the faces of the only three people that Willow would let her guard down with. Buffy, Xander, Spike, himself... anyone else wouldn't have prompted Willow to hang up on him. Xander was staring around in horror. "Oh my God! She must have thought it was me, let me into her house..." he groaned, knowing that the demons wouldn't be able to pass off feeding off the love that he knew Willow still harboured for him. "Full of himself, isn't he?" Spike muttered, pushing off the counter that he had been casually propped up against. He looked back at the wide eyed, pale faced mortals, and rolled his eyes. "Well let's go save the chit." His hands felt wonderful against her skin, Willow thought distantly. A gentle finger traced over her belly, warm skin drifting over warm skin until the calloused fingers met barrier of her bra. They skimmed over her burning flesh, moving towards her exposed back. Clever hands unhooked the garment with agonizing slowness. Willow was panting by the time that the simple white bra slid from her shoulders. 'Goddess! This isn't right!' part of her was insisting. He had barely touched her, and yet her body was burning, trembling... she felt ready to explode with sensation. She couldn't remember how she had arrived at this place; couldn't remember her sudden fear when she realized that he hadn't brought her to the library; couldn't remember her disbelief when his lips had descended on hers, his body hard and wanting when he pressed against her. Her mind was fuzzy, waves of desire drowning her, dragging her under before she had time to grasp onto the thoughts skittering at the edges of her mind -- moving further and further out of reach as each touch sent her washing into deeper waters. "So beautiful... so _passionate_," he said, his breath warm against her ear. His thumb ran across the underside of her breast, and Willow gasped, arching and crying out with pleasure. That part of her, faint and fading faster every second impotently screamed in warning. 'It doesn't work like this,' she thought. Memories of Oz, on top of her, moving inside of her... Buffy's hushed words as she haltingly spoke about Angel... 'It's not this... this _much_.' His hand moved higher, feather-light, and Willow shrieked. Her thoughts shattered, drifting away helplessly. His name was Talon... a long time ago, it had been something different, a name of dignity and power spelled out in the flowing tongue of his people. That had been before he moved amongst humans whose clumsy lips and teeth and tongues seemed painfully unsuited for speech. Not, he mused, that he had to suffer through the garbled speech of these creatures any longer. His new master ensured that those creatures he dealt with were far too consumed by other matters to bother opening their lips for words. Most of his kind would have bristled at being under the yoke of another, but Talon could not bring himself to care. He was allied to power, and he spent his days cheerfully burying himself in eager female flesh... When they managed to make it past the opening stages, he thought with slight annoyance. The writhing redhead in his arms was already burning beneath his touch, her flesh hot beneath his travelling palm. Sometimes, they went so fast, the fire in their veins burning them from the inside out before he had the chance to do anything more than complete a brief mapping of exposed skin. They would scream in his arms, shuddering and sobbing as the lust surging through them was replaced by the pain of the heat consuming them. Some of them managed to last longer... and although it offered him more relief, it also presented its own dangers. Talon's nose wrinkled in annoyance as he remembered pumping inside of a burning body whose life had extinguished while he was too caught up in his own body's needs to notice. "_Spike_" she keened, twisting in his arms to face him. Her intelligent green eyes were glazed as she reached for him, her mouth clamping against him. Her mind was fuzzy, inhibitions stripped away, reactions intensified... glorious. She burned. "Are you sure that this is where they went?" Spike asked, his eyes cold and hard as he looked at his minion. The younger vampire nodded in certainty. "Yes. I followed them here myself," he stated, still slightly unnerved by the sight of Spike before him when he had seen him leading the mortal woman into the warehouse minutes ago. He wouldn't have followed them had he not been under strict orders to stay with the girl unless Spike told him, face to face, that he was dismissed. Buffy glared at the two vampires. "What were you doing, putting a tail on Willow, anyway?" she grumbled. Spike's eyes were still glacial when he turned towards the Slayer. "There's a demon out there stalking women, Slayer. _Someone_ had to watch out for the witch," he said, annoyed at having to explain his actions. Xander fidgeted. "Who cares about that now!? Let's get in there and save Willow before..." he blanched, his words trailing off. He needed not have continued anyway, for all of them knew the danger that faced Willow. "The building isn't under guard, sire," the fledgling said softly. "They obviously weren't expecting any company." He looked at Spike, and momentarily debated telling him what face their enemy would be wearing. He quickly dismissed that notion, the tiny spark of rebellion that most of their kind nursed against their masters leaping to life. 'Let him get an eyeful,' he thought. "Let's go," Spike said shortly. She was burning, blood boiling beneath the meager protection of delicate skin. Soft and hot and eager in the circle of his arms. She mewled as his hands swiped down her flesh, green eyes dark with need staring into his. Shaking hands struggled with the buttons of his shirt, and her breath came out in a soft sigh when her fingers finally met the skin of his recently exposed chest. Alien eyes -- hidden by a deep, familiar blue -- watched her jerky movements, amusement and lust warring for dominance within their depths. Talon grinned slightly as Willow eagerly moved against him. She was hot, burning inside out, but the fact that she was still drawing in gasping breaths spoke well for the potential of more satisfying amusement ahead. His pleased contemplation was casually brushed aside as his master reached out with mental fingers and _shifted_ something within the small red head. Her head lolled back, eyes rolling wildly. The soft whimper she emitted still carried desire, but the begins of the agony that would erupt within her before the night's end had begun to creep into her wordless pleas. Talon scowled slightly at the familiar of pain colouring her cries, a look that was quickly banished as his master surged within his mind. *More!* the soundless wave tearing through him screamed. With the girl still clinging to him, Talon moved them the few feet towards the bed dominating the small room in an awkward half-shuffle. They toppled onto the mussed sheets, Willow's hands never breaking contact with his body. Rearing onto his elbows, he looked down into her glazed eyes and saw that the want that his master had urged into full bloom within her still outweighed the pain of the fire raging in her blood. He smiled and bent down to kiss her again. "Are you sure that this is it?" Xander muttered softly, staring at the innocuous door barring their entry. He heard a low, breathy cry, and Xander's blunt fingernails dug into his palm. "That answer your question?" Spike growled half-heartedly. The sound of the girl's heartbeat, loud and fast; and the scent of warm blood coursing through her body had captured his attention the moment that the small group had stepped through the building's doorway. The soft sounds that reached his sensitive hearing had only served to further hold his interest. Lust and hunger and anger were bubbling inside of him, sparked by dozens of different factors about the situation in which he found himself embroiled. Buffy flushed slightly at the sounds coming from behind the door, but set her jaw determinedly. 'We can all be embarrassed _after_ we save Willow,' she thought. "Then what are we waiting for? Move!" Buffy hissed in command as she reared back and brought her foot smashing into the door. She could hear an enraged yelp from within the room as she barreled into the room. Taking in her surroundings within seconds, Buffy barely hesitated as she lunged towards the figures on the bed. Strong arms wrapped around the man's bared waist, the force of her momentum driving them both off the bed and away from Willow's flushed, writhing form. Training and instinct drove Buffy to her feet, her hands latching around her opponent's neck as she came out of her graceful roll. She lifted him in a quick, angry motion and slammed the shapeshifter against the wall, his bare feet hovering above the ground, supported only by her squeezing hands. "Oh my God..." Buffy breathed as she found herself face to face with Willow's desired man for the first time. "Spike?!" Her hands twitched against his neck, and Buffy's head turned slightly. She looked over her shoulder and met an equally shocked pair of blue eyes. 'We're going to have to have ourselves a long talk, Willow...' Xander's mouth dropped open as he looked back and forth between the unclothed, struggling creature in Buffy's grip and the suddenly expressionless Spike standing across the room from the Slayer and his double. "Spike?! Willow?! _Spike_?!" He shook his head in disbelief. Spike was moving towards the bed before Willow's low cry had registered in either of her friend's minds. His cool hand rested against her forehead, and after a second, he pulled in back with a low hiss. "Too late, Slayer. She's burning up," he stated. "No!" Xander cried out, the sense of unreality that had claimed him when he first saw the other Spike fading as he realized what the vampire was saying. He stumbled towards the bed, his eyes growing round as he watched his best friend, clothed only in a modest pair of underwear, shuddering in pain. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes were rolling, unaware of the people surrounding her. "Well fuck," Spike said. He grabbed one of the rumpled sheets that had been forced to the end of the bed and tore it free. Spike draped it over Willow, wrapping it around her before he lifted her into his arms. Buffy's hands tightened around Talon's neck and she shook him roughly, his head snapping back against the wall with each movement. "Tell us how to stop the process!" she growled, her voice low and deadly. "And believe me, if you don't deliver on the answers soon, you'll find out just how dangerous a Slayer can be!" "Slayer?" he choked. "I didn't know--" "Answers!" Buffy snapped. One hand left his neck to grasp the creature's chin. Her painted nails dug into his skin as Buffy leaned forward her eyes borring into his. "_Now_." Talon winced. "I can't stop it... I just help the passion build up. It's the master who starts feeding... he's the only one who can stop it," he answered, his gaze moving past Buffy's enraged face to meet the cold eyed stare of the man whose face he wore. Talon shuddered at what he found there and turned back to the Slayer. "I don't hurt them! They want it! I just give them what they need!" he said frantically. Buffy's hand whipped across his face, silencing the flood of unwanted words. "Where is he?" she demanded. He looked at her blankly, and Buffy growled. Everything hurt, raw and red and aching. Willow's hands twitched, twisting in the sheet wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes peeled open slowly, feeling dry and itchy. For a long moment, Willow lay still, unsure of where she was and what had happened. And then, the indistinct blur around her solidified, and she found herself laying in Giles' office. As her location clicked into place, so too did the events that had spun out of control and led her to that moment. She bit back her groan, not wanting to attract attention to herself and call someone to her earlier than necessary. 'It wasn't him,' she thought, his stomach twisting as she remembered how easily she had been overwhelmed. 'And if I'm here, that must mean all of them know.' _All_ of them. She felt like crying, but clamped down on that urge. Air tickled at the flesh peeking out of the sheet wound around her, and Willow savagely tugged the meager covering back into place. 'Goddess, I am such an idiot! What must they think of me? What must _Spike_ be thinking of me? He'd probably be thrilled if it were Buffy or somebody, but _me_?' The door to Giles' office was open, to hear her when she awakened, Willow guessed. At the moment, it was allowing her to hear the hushed discussion taking place in the library while still safely hidden from curious, disbelieving, or mocking eyes. "--I think it's gone, Giles," Buffy was saying, her voice weary and still holding an undercurrent of anger. "It went splat when I hit it that last time... and if we go by the amount of goo that splattered on me..." "Dead," Giles ended. "I must say, Buffy -- your timing couldn't have been better. Had it taken any longer, I fear that Willow wouldn't have made it." Willow trembled, remembering Ingrid falling to ashes beneath Buffy's touch. "This is going to be... awkward," Buffy said, cutting into the silence that had fallen between them after Giles' last statement. "I mean, I went into shock myself... Xander wasn't exactly impressed... And Spike..." Willow's breath caught, and she burrowed back into the couch she had been placed on. She drew a loose fold of the sheet over her head, her mouth clamping down on her bare upper arm as the first of her tears began to fall. ~End~ |