WITCH-FINDER
PART THIRTEEN: THE SEARCH IS ON
The entire gang congregated to the Magic Box as soon as the newly conscious Buffy informed them of Tara�s abduction. She had been out cold for two hours and there was no telling where the Witch-Finder had taken their friend during that time.

A frantic Willow urged, �We have to do something NOW!�

�I�m all for the action-plan, Will,� Buffy stated, nursing her aching head with an ice-pack, �but what do you suggest? We don�t know where he�s taken her. We need to have some direction.�

�I could locate her. The spell isn�t all that complicated,� came the reply.

This was taken into serious consideration. Even though they did not want Willow to resort to using magic, it might be their only chance to find Tara. Unless, of course, it was already too late. That did not bear thinking about.

�I could scry for her,� Amy offered.

�Scry?� Dawn asked.

�A method of divination that can be done using a reflective object. The art dates back to ancient times. Practitioners use the chosen speculum to answer questions, find lost objects or people, etceteras. Even Nosy used it,� Anya answered.

�Nosy?�

Surprisingly, Anya acknowledged Xander's presence, "Uh huh. Nostradamus. Now, there was a fun guy. I have this really humorous story about how he got that nickname-"

�Wait. Hold up.� Xander queried, �You knew Nostradamus? The famous French astrologer? Personally? And called him Nosy?�

�Yes, brilliant man. As much as any man can be.� She commented to Amy, �I didn�t realize you were proficient in the old ways. You must be very knowledgeable.�

Amy shifted in discomfort. "M-m-my mother taught it to me." She hurriedly added to Buffy, "Before. Before cheerleading tryouts. Remember?"

"How could we forget Catherine the Great?" Xander answered instead. "She was one of the first Scooby adventures."

�Yay, the wicked witch is dead,� Willow snapped. �Can we please move on people? Tara!�

Everyone was repentant.

�Okay,� Buffy decided, �scrying it is."

PART FOURTEEN: LOVE WILL FIND A WAY
Spike woke with a splitting headache. He had not had a hangover this bad since, well... ever. Upon inhaling, a habit he had developed from his constant chain-smoking, he discovered the scent of Buffy was prominent in the air. Had she truly been there or was it wishful thinking on his part?

He headed to casa Summers. If the slayer came to his crypt, it meant one of two things: 1) she needed something or the very unlikely, especially after the Riley/egg incident, 2) she was seeking a bit of Spike-action. Either way, she had found him piss drunk and had probably left in disgust.

�By you, yeah. I want to do right by you, love.� He recalled what he told her less than two days ago. Yeah, he had done real right by her. If she had come and seen him in a drunken stupor, he had done real right indeed. Bollocks.

His private pity party was forgotten at entering the living room. "Hello?" He called out. Anxiety took hold. The place was a mess. A chair was toppled over, one of the lamps broken and unknown herbs were ground into the floor from being trampled on.

�Hello?� He tried again. No answer.

Knowing the rise of the sun was imminent, Spike rushed out the door and sprinted to the Magic Box with all his vampiric speed. Crashing inside, he saw the store was empty besides rat-girl.

�Where�s the slayer?� He demanded.

Amy motioned toward the training area. "They wanted to give me some privacy for a spell. They're all in the back getting weapons together."

�So, Buffy and the nibblet, Dawn, are okay?�

�They�re fine,� she responded. �It�s Tara who�s in trouble.�

�Balls! I told the silly twit Tara was in trouble. Would she let good ol� Spike lend a hand? Nooooo. Had to be a bleedin� bitch, she did.�

�You love her.�

Pausing, he gave a derisive snort. �They forget to give you the memo? Old news, that.�

The snide comment was overlooked. �I have a suggestion.�

Lifting a scarred brow, he inquired, �Which is?�

�A spell.�

�I don�t want a soddin� love spell put on Buffy. Those things never work right. Plus, I don�t want to force her. I want her to love me because she loves me, not because you tell her to love me.�

�It won�t be force,� Amy clarified. �It�s just a spell to find your true love.�

Spike contemplated this. After careful deliberation, he slowly shook his head. "I know who my true love is and she'll find me when she's good, well and ready. Not before. 'Sides, I have all the time in the world. I can wait."

�You may have forever, but... does she?�

He was diverted, seeing Amy holding a chain with a large crystal dangling from it. �That�s a nice trinket you have there, pet. Must be worth a pretty penny.�

Self-conscious, Amy pulled her arm back and removed the piece of jewelry from his line of vision. "Oh, it's a family heirloom. I was using it to find Tara. Scrying for her."

Tara.

Remembering what he was about, he did not bother with any more chitchat and headed to the training room again.

* * *
Buffy felt him the moment he burst through the door. She decided not to overthink the joy she experienced at his timely appearance. All she knew was a renewed sense of confidence and his earlier behavior was forgotten. Spike was here. He would help.

When he did not directly join them, she made her way to the front. Buffy hesitated at hearing Spike and Amy talking.

"I know who my true love is and she'll find me when she's good, well and ready. Not before. 'Sides, I have all the time in the world. I can wait."

She smiled.

�You may have forever, but... does she?�

She frowned.

PART FIFTEEN: TORMENTUM INSOMNIAE
�You know, they didn�t burn witches at the stake to begin with. No, that was a punishment saved for traitors. Witches were hung. A common mistake made by Americans because of the Salem incident. How neglected this country�s education is. Quite sad.�

Tara kept struggling against the ropes that secured her hands while the Witch-Finder spoke. She could tell he found her efforts amusing as he rounded the chair she was bound to time and again. Yet, his enjoyment at her expense was waning...

�For the last time, where is the charm, witch?�

She remained mutinously silent. Uncertain of what he was referring to, she felt the best course of action was to say nothing rather than admit ignorance. What charm?

Anger touched her captor's features and he halted his pacing directly in front of her. His last three hours of interrogation had been for naught, she had not uttered a word. It was time to up the ante.

�When Corsheth and Gilail called upon me to retrieve a powerful witch that escaped limbo, I thought that I was being presented with a challenge. How disappointed I was to find only you.�

Corsheth and Gilail, powerful deities of the spirit realm. Tara had learned of them through leisure reading at the shop. Odd, Amy had been a rat, not a spirit. So, how did these gods come into play when applied to her situation? She mulled over the new puzzle presented to her.

�Foolish woman. Do you have any idea who you are dealing with? I have been educated in centuries of torture to gain the knowledge I desire. �Watching,� �searching� and �swimming� - they are only the beginning of my capabilities.� When her eyes widened with apprehension, he gave an appreciative once-over. �And, oh yes, I do believe I will enjoy the �watching� part immensely. I am a very, very patient man.�

�Watching", "searching" and "swimming" were torture techniques invented by the first Witch-Finder, Matthew Hopkins. Under the premise that all witches had familiars which needed to feed from their blood, he would have his victims stripped naked, watched around-the-clock and not allow them rest by either dipping the prisoners into water or making them walk until their feet were bloody and sore. In the end, the captives would not be sensible of what they said or did, willing to disclose whatever necessary to get the torment to stop. A torture that could last days, weeks, even months. Tormentum Insomniae.

Days. Weeks. Months. It would not take the Scoobies that long to find her, and find her they would. This she was certain of. Shaking off the threat, she returned his look with a bold one of her own, uncommon for her usually shy self. "Why don't y-y-you just use magic to find your answers, warlock?"

The back of his hand smashed against Tara's cheek, causing her head to snap to the side. Tongue sliding out, she lapped at the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Let the torture begin.

PART SIXTEEN: THE RESCUE
If Amy was correct, the Witch-Finder and Tara were only a few hundred feet away. The Sunnydale Motor Lodge. How clever, Buffy dryly reflected as she perused at the rundown motel. She saw the sardonic twist of Spike's lips from the corner of her eye and understood that he was thinking the same thing.

He proceeded to voice her inner-musings, �At least I always had the finesse of hidin� out in an abandoned warehouse, like any respectable villain would. This is downright pitiful.�

�Yeah, seeing how well warehouses always worked for you.�

Her mouth involuntarily twitched with unconcealed mirth at Spike�s smoking form. He had made a mad dash from Xander�s car to the darkened alley directly across their target site only to trip a third of the way there (which could likely be credited to the alcohol). Briefly losing hold of his protective blanket, he got a bit singed around the edges from the harsh rays of the early morning sun. So much for vampire grace.

Buffy�s hand reached out and tenderly stroked the side of his deceivingly youthful face. A contented purr escaped the back of his throat and he rubbed himself against her palm, relishing the rare kindness of his beloved�s touch.

�Slayer-� Spike began, only to be stopped with the negative shake of her head.

�Not now,� she replied. �Later. After Tara�s safe, we�ll talk.�

He gave a slow nod. �This is a crumb. Right, love?�

Leaning forward, she gave him a quick, chaste kiss. �No. This is a whole loaf.�

Not letting him respond, she exited the shadows of the alley long enough to give an �all clear� signal. They were soon united with the rest of the rescue group - Willow, Xander and Anya.

The only two missing were Amy and Dawn, who had been left at the Magic Box. Since the Witch-Finder wanted Amy, they decided it best to keep her as far away as possible. And Dawn was... well, Dawn; no one wanted her put in danger, much to the teen�s outrage and disappointment.

Xander jibed, "Nice footwork."

Uncharacteristically, Spike allowed this to pass. Nothing would upset him right now, not even the whelp. He was in heaven. Pure and simple.

"Which room?" Anya spoke. "We need to hurry so I can get back and open the shop. People won't like that we are closed on a weekday and take their money elsewhere. Money that should be mine."

�Sixteen,� Willow said. �I did a little mind-reading. You should see what�s going on in room twelve. Kinky.�

Buffy could not disguise her apprehension. Apprehension for Willow using her abilities again. Apprehension for Tara. Apprehension for what they were about to walk into. "Can you sense Tara at all?"

�Barely. She keeps losing consciousness. It feels weird, she passes out and wakes up again. It's happening over and over. Never aware enough for me to find out exactly what is going on.�

With his usual candor, Spike commented, �Sounds like Glenda�s bein� tortured, if you ask me.�

Willow gasped.

Xander retorted, "Good thing we didn't ask you."

�Xan,� Buffy cautioned, �we have to be prepared for anything. Spike�s just trying to help.�

Astonishment was evident. Buffy had just stood up for Spike. This was definitely a first.

Buffy went on to instruct, �Spike and I�ll take the lead. The rest of you stay behind us. I�m not sure how strong this guy is. He seems pretty powerful. If anything goes wrong, get away quick. Understand?�

Willow was about to argue, but thought better of it. "Got it."

Glancing at her lover, she asked, �Ready, Spike?�

�Ready, Buffy.�

The Randy/Joan-ism caused a grin between them.

The duo sped away. No one remarked on the newfound camaraderie.

PART SEVENTEEN: THE RESCUE II
With a forceful kick, the door flew from its hinges allowing the pair, slayer and vampire, to enter the motel room. They took quick notice of a nude, badly bruised, cut up Tara and were appalled.

Seeing the inflicted injuries, Spike's features became distorted, yellow eyes blazing with the light of retribution. He had assumed she was going to be tortured, but this was beyond the cuff. With a roar of unchecked fury, he launched himself at the surprised Witch-Finder.

Buffy called out too late. At the first contact of his fist, Spike emitted a howl of pain. He refused to stop the assault.

"Oh my God," came Willow's frantic cry as she hurried to Tara's side, Xander and Anya following close behind. Removing the restraints, the red-haired witch timidly lifted Tara's exhausted face to her own for some sign of recognition. She was so swollen and discolored, it was almost impossible to make out the beautiful person that lay beneath. "Oh, baby."

Seeing the chip was doing more damage to Spike than his opponent, Buffy hurried to assist. When the warlock shoved the enraged vampire away, she entered the fray. The man faltered under the tiny slayer's might. With a few well-placed punches, she had knocked him out.

Spike remained on the floor, clutching his pounding head. Buffy moved to her knees and cradled him protectively close. "Y-y-you, idiot. He was human."

He gave a laugh. "Really? I didn't notice, pet."

Willow's focus was momentarily drawn from Tara at the sound of Buffy and Spike's voices. Her eyes then fell on the Witch-Finder. "I'm going to kill him."

"N-n-no," came a faint behest. Tara's cracked and bloodied lips worked to formulate more, "No k-k-killing. Too much k-k-killing. I wish all of it would stop. That the F-f-finder's power was no more and the descendants had no rec-recollection to the past centuries of h-h-hate and torture."

She had forced one puffed up eye open and stared at Anya the entire time.

"How did you know?"

"A-a-aura," she tiredly replied.

"When-" Anya tried to continue her questioning and, for once, could not articulate herself.

"K-k-knew first time I s-s-saw you after-"

"-the wedding," she finished.

Tara nodded wearily. "D-d-do I get my wish? Vengeance is m-m-my right."

Unable to deny her calling, Anyanka took a step back, away from the group that had been her family these past years, and allowed her true face to come forth. "Wish granted."

A shocked Xander shook his head in denial, refusing to believe what he was seeing. "No. No. No. This isn't happening. An..."

A sad smile was sent his direction and the vengeance demon disappeared.

"C-c-corsheth and Gilail..."

Buffy's head swiveled, eyes tearing from the vacant spot where Anya had just stood to Tara. "What? What did you say?"

"She said Corsheth and Gilail," a new voice answered.

"Why are those names familiar?" Willow asked as Amy stepped further into the room, securely holding an all too quiet Dawn's arm.

"And what are you doing here? I told you all to stay at the Magic Box." Buffy frowned. Too much was happening too fast.

"Amy?" Willow watched in confusion.

Tara squinted. By fate or coincidence, this was the first time she had seen Amy since the morning after her restoration a few months ago. "T-t-that's not Amy. She's l-l-like what happened when Buffy and F-f-faith switched bodies."

Corsheth and Gilail. Buffy's eyes widened in horror, recalling the last time she heard those names.

"Catherine."

PART EIGHTEEN: ENEMY IN OUR MIDST
Mocking laughter resounded in the small room.

"Very good," Catherine complimented. "Nice to see that I am remembered."

With one hand holding Dawn, she directed the other at Willow and caused an invisible force to roughly propel her into a wall. "Seems the wicked witch isn't dead after all."

The stunned Xander was brought from his stupor at witnessing the attack and quickly moved to aid Willow.

Dawn whimpered as the hold on her tightened. Buffy and Spike were on their feet once more, both surveying for possible weaknesses in this newest foe.

Catherine said, "I really appreciate you taking care of the Witch-Finder for me. He was becoming quite a nuisance."

"How?" Buffy asked.

She did not need to be elaborate. Her enemy knew exactly what she meant. "It was all thanks to you, actually. You were the one who blew up the school. Let me tell you, being stuck in that trophy was horrendous. Ahhh, but you didn't know where I was, did you? Well, as soon as my prison was no more, my soul was freed. Problem was, I didn't have a body. It was destroyed during our last encounter. I was very weak at the time, not strong enough to transpossess with an unknown form. I needed Amy's, one I was familiar with. However, by that time, the fool girl had changed herself into a rat. Very embarrassing. I had to wait until Willow found a way to reverse the spell... such an amateur. Needless to say, after that, the rest is history. Voila."

"Where's Amy?" Willow prodded from her position on the floor.

"Two beings in same body. Not a pretty sight. I had to make some adjustments. I entered her ahead of the spell, out-powered her when she was weak from one of her visits with Rack and modified the transpossession spell to shift only one entity, Amy, out of this body."

"That doesn't answer us," Buffy said, not taking her eyes from Catherine or Dawn. "Where's Amy?"

"The bleedin' necklace," Spike guessed. "That's why you didn't want me to see it."

"Indeed," Catherine responded. "And you have nowhere to hide this time, slayer. I couldn't leave Sunnydale without having a little payback."

The room occupants watched as Catherine's eyes turned pitch black. Lifting her hand, she repeated the incantation that had failed her so long ago. "I shall look upon my enemy. I shall look upon her and the dark place will have her soul! Corsheth, take her!"

Spike instinctively stepped into the path of the energy bolt flying at Buffy. It hit him and did absolutely nothing.

"Heh, that tickled," he jested.

"Nooooooo," Catherine shouted in outrage.

"Can't take my soul if I soddin' don't have one." He augmented to Buffy, "I knew that little fact would come in handy sooner or later. Remember this next time you wanna talk about the pros and cons of soul-having and what-not."

"The center is dark. Centrum est obscurus. The darkness breathes. Tenebrae respiratis. The listener hears. Hear me!"

Unexpectedly, Willow chanted. As soon as her abductor was diverted by the other witch's mechanisms, Dawn kicked her in the shin and grabbed for the chain around her neck. Free, she rushed to Buffy and Spike, only to stumble and have the necklace skid across the floor.

Catherine was torn between grabbing Dawn for cover and stopping Willow.

Buffy saw Spike move to shelter Dawn and edged closer to the magic users. She idly wondered where Willow had learned the spell Giles performed during their sophomore year. She had been in the room with him when he cast it, Willow had not. The spell to undo the evil Catherine had contrived.

"Unlock the gate. Let the darkness shine. Cover us with holy fear. Show me..."

"It's the w-w-wrong spell," an exhausted Tara called out, struggling to her own feet. Willow paid her no heed.

"Corsheth and Gilail! The gate is closed! Receive the dark! Be sated! Release the unworthy! Release! Release! RELEASE!"

An explosion of light was created, leaving a dazed Amy standing before them. Blinking in confusion, she demanded, "What happened? Where are we?"

"Amy?" Buffy cautiously asked.

"Buffy?"

"Where's Catherine?" A pale Xander speculated aloud.

"Cather- mom?" Amy's consternation was palpable.

"S-s-she's returned to her o-o-original state. Formless. Cap-capable of being anywhere," Tara answered. She berated Willow, "You s-s-should have waited. We could have re-reversed the t-t-transpossession spell instead. Like this, Amy w-w-will always have to be on guard be-because Catherine could attack again at any g-g-given moment and try to s-s-steal her body."

The forgotten Witch-Finder spoke, having revived unbeknownst to anyone, "Who are you people? What's with all the hocus pocus?"

"Um, we're..." Xander hesitated, seeking an adequate lie. "A traveling troupe of actors. We do plays and such. We were practicing, man. Special effects were great, eh?" Reaching down, he helped the former warlock to his feet and walked him from the room while continuing to falsely explain the odd events and his injuries.

"As much as I like you in the buff, love," Spike told Tara as he shrugged out of his duster, "why don't you put this on, seein' as how your clothes are in tatters."

The remnant of her garments lay in a shredded heap at her feet. Tara was in too much pain to bother with being shy and gratefully accepted the coat. As soon as she was appropriately covered, Spike hefted her into his arms. "Never say I'm not a gentleman."

Tara did not hear him, she was already asleep. Fatigue had won out.

Buffy took hold of Dawn's hand and they followed. Amy joined them, full of doubt.

Willow dejectedly remained behind. Sitting on the bed, she rested her head in her hands while silently reprimanding herself. She had messed up again.

Suddenly, she gasped and her body lurched forward. Getting up, she walked over and claimed the necklace that had been negligently left on the floor.

She gave a malevolent smile and her eyes flashed black.

EPILOGUE
"Slayer, duck!" Spike shouted, his attention divided between her and the two vampires he was presently fighting. A furious growl followed his warning when he saw a pair of undead arms latch themselves around her waist, attempting to hold her steady, while another creature of the night prepared to pummel her.

Spike dodged a flying fist and kicked one of his legs out, bringing a foe to the ground. His arm arced downward, burying a stake into the monster's chest. An instant later, he was in hand-to-hand combat with the remaining demon. He easily avoided every attack and, after a blur of movements, captured his enemy's neck and twisted until there was a loud snap. He maintained hold of the lax body while thrusting a stake into its un-beating heart.

He wasted no time basking in victory, already rushing across the graveyard to Buffy. Spike barreled forward, throwing his entire body at one of her attackers. With the relief, she let her leg do a 180-degree kick, meeting the face of the monster that held her imprisoned. It stumbled in surprise and weakened under an array of blows to the mid-section.

Soon, only two remained - one breathing heavily and one not breathing at all. The slayer and her vampire. One-time enemies. Reluctant allies. Irascible lovers. And, at last, steadfast friends.

Buffy pouted. "I had everything under control."

Spike was skeptical. "Right. Under control if you wanted to be on tonight's menu."

"You mean I'm not on tonight's menu?" Her eyes twinkled with a seductive glint. "And here I thought you were starved for me."

Putting their wooden weapons away, the couple joined hands and walked. If anyone had seen them, it would have seemed they were doing nothing more than taking a midnight stroll albeit, oddly, in a cemetery. The danger that radiated from them had dissipated, leaving the duo of death with the simple guise of young people in love.

"Oh, believe you me, I'm famished. Ravenous in fact. Wait 'til we get home."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"That's reality, love. Plus, I wanna see if you like how I remodeled the crypt after your and fishboy's visit."

Buffy ignored the egg mishap reference and, instead, sighed wistfully. "In this reality, will I be getting a rubdown? I think we fought one too many baddies this evening. Every muscle in my body aches."

"I'll take care of all the muscles in your body, pet," Spike grinned, dragged her hand to his groin and suggestively added, "including mine."

"Pig," she teased.

A whoop of laughter came from Buffy when he abruptly grabbed, tossed her over his shoulder and sprinted through the night with his prize.

"Oink, oink."

* * *
The witch used the passionate cries emanating from the lower level of the crypt to her advantage. She assumed it meant Buffy and Spike were so wrapped up in their lovemaking that they would not notice she was there.

She sprinkled a combination of damiana herbs, dragon's blood and royal amber on the mausoleum floor. Standing amidst it, she quietly intoned, "Goddess Ishtar, grant my request; Goddess Aphrodite, hear my plea -- Open the floodgates of desire in the woman for whom his heart conspires; let her feel the heat, oh Goddess, of my body warm and sweet."

A snapshot of Spike, from the previous day, was set afire. It had been taken during a premature victory celebration, much to his irritation. Not that it was an enjoyable celebration since Xander was too busy moping because of Anya's re-demonization and disappearance, the slayer and vampire did not stop making mooneyes at one another, Dawn sat sullenly on the sofa when no one would listen to her inane chatter, and Tara was hospitalized due to her injuries.

When the polaroid was nothing but charred remains, she moved to the exit.

"That should keep them out of my hair," she chortled to herself. "Or, should I say, Willow's hair?" She liked this body and was planning on keeping it for a while.

Catherine's steps slowed when she caught sight of a small, strange rock laying amongst the tomb's clutter. She retrieved and inspected it. "Interesting."

When the activity below quieted, she dared not linger. Brushing a stray red lock from her face, she fled.

* * *
"Did you hear something?" Spike tilted his head to the side and tried to concentrate.

His efforts were to little avail because Buffy promptly dragged him back to her.

They re-entered a world of pleasure where only each other existed.

THE END
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