Title: Love is a Mystery
Author: Kat, a.k.a. KallieRose
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: R
Pairing: Willow/Spike, Angel/Fred, Anya/Xander
Disclaimer: I acknowledge Joss Whedon as god of gods. All the characters in this story are his creation, along with Fox, the rest of the Mutant Enemy Crew, and whomever else wants to lay claim to them. I'm merely killing time by putting them in totally unrealistic situations :-)
Summary: The Scoobies and Angel and Fred are stuck on a mysterious island.  Don't want to give any more than that away.
Spoilers: Starts  somewhere after  the end of Buffy's season 5, I suppose, and then goes seriously AU after that.  Spike was *so* not in love with Buffy, and Willow and Tara never met and fell in love.

Love is a Mystery (cont.)

Chapter 6

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then everyone started talking at once.

"You mean you—"

"Fred?"

"Give it here—"

"Well at least one of you has a brain," Spike grumbled, giving the slightly alarmed brunette an approving look. 

Angel was the first one to grab for the phone, and within seconds he was dialing the number for the Hyperion, hoping that one of his employees could send some help their way by nightfall. 

"Why isn't this working," he growled in frustration when his call wouldn't go through. 

Fred peeked her head over his shoulder and took a quick look at the face of the phone.  She groaned softly in dismay.  "See that little symbol there?" she asked quietly, pointing at an icon and the words 'no signal' that flashed on the panel.  "That means that we're too far away to get a signal.  Maybe if we go outside it would help?"

"Damn," he swore softly, then handed the phone back to her.  "Here, why don't you try it outside?  I'm afraid it's still too light out for me.  If you *do* find a way to make a call, call Gunn immediately and get him to send some reinforcements.  Tell him that this is urgent, and not to waste any time."

"Sure Angel," she agreed, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze before leaving the room.  Giles and Buffy went with her, although they both suspected that they would have little more luck outside than they did inside.  They were just too far from the mainland, he suspected.  And that was just what whoever had set this up had intended.

Sure enough, the phone-wielding trio was back within minutes, frowns on all of their faces. 

"No luck at all," Fred said glumly, confirming Giles' earlier suspicions.

"Well, I think we all know what that means," Buffy said dejectedly, looking at the unhappy faces at the table.

Willow groaned.  "Research time, right?"

"C'mon, Wills, you know you want to," Buffy said, laughing a bit at Willow's gloomy face.  "You've been itching to take a crack at that library since the minute you got here."

"Yeah, but only for *fun* research.  Not for the 'if we don't find the answer to this problem we might be in trouble' kind of research," the little redhead complained.

One by one they unenthusiastically made their way to the library, pausing to call up to Anya and Xander to meet them there.

"But this was supposed to be a vacation," Spike whined.  "I was promised fun and time off and free blood.  Well, I did get the free blood I guess, but still, where's the fun?"

Angel shot him an amused glance, before getting up to follow the others.  "Come on, childe, let's get this over with. The sooner we find something, the sooner you can go back to your little video games," he snickered. 

Spike gave the dark vampire a menacing glare, but his heart really wasn't in it, and finally he got up to join the others.  "Last time I go *anywhere* with the bloody watcher," he muttered under his breath.

"Well I think we've made our way through every single book in this soddin' library, other than the general fiction, and we didn't find a damn thing," Spike groused.  "This was the last one, right, Watcher?"

"Yes, Spike, that was the last book," Giles replied in barely-polite tones.  The blond vampire had been complaining bitterly ever since they had started researching four hours ago, and although he had managed to hold his tongue admirably, the watcher was just about at the end of his rope.

Angel looked at the faces in the room.  Their attention was starting to flag a bit.  Willow and Buffy both looked sleepy, and Xander and Anya could barely keep their eyes open.  He suspected that Spike had actually stopped reading his book a half hour ago, and had spent the remaining time stealing glances at the redhead.  Even Fred, who was usually good for a long night of research, was looking a little weary. 

"How about we take a break and go outside for a bit.  The cold evening air ought to wake us up, and then some."  Plus, the vampire added quietly to himself, we could keep an eye out for anything unusual.  A little bit of impromptu patrolling was definitely a good idea.

"Yes, that is an excellent idea," Giles agreed, casting a grateful look at Angel.  Maybe with the children gone, he could actually concentrate on the research at hand.  Between Anya's giggling and Buffy popping her gum, the ex-librarian had been hard put to get any in-depth reading done.  His concentration had been rather lacking, that was for sure.

As the children eagerly left, Giles settled back comfortably onto the leather couch and took his glasses off for a second.  Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment, he thought, he could get back to the books with a better frame of mind and better concentration.

As soon as they left the house the group quickly split up.  Anya and Xander took off for a quiet romantic walk on their own, promising the others that they would be careful and would return before too long.  They headed down the path towards the dock, coming to a stop and sitting on a bench there. The two held hands and talking softly, the sound of the water the perfect backdrop to their conversation.

The rest of the gang headed north, taking a well-worn path along the edge of the island.  The moon was bright and high overhead, and the tall trees that surrounded the house gave way to small bushes and plants. As the five figures walking along, Angel, Buffy and Fred quickly forged ahead, while Willow and Spike walked more slowly, the young woman taking more interest in their surroundings and the water down below. 

"It's so quiet here," she whispered to Spike.  "I mean, the noises you hear from the city, all those sounds that you take for granted, you don't hear them here."

"Yeah, downright spooky, if you ask me."

Willow looked at him briefly, and then started to giggle softly.

"Hell, what's so damn funny, witch?"

She punched him lightly on the arm, and then said, "You're the big bad.  You've tried to kill us, like, a bazillion times.  And yet something as innocuous as the quiet here creeps you out.  Some big bad you are," she teased, giving him a smile to soften her words.

Spike looked over at the redhead next to him and flashed her a brief glimpse of ridges and fangs, before allowing his face to blend back to its usual human visage.  He leaned in close to her ear and threw a casual arm around her shoulder before whispering seductively, "Give me a minute or two, and I'll show you just how big and bad I can be."

"Tease," she called him, stopping briefly to look up at his smiling face, before skipping down the path to join the others.

Spike continued leisurely behind her, watching the sway of her hips as she moved ahead of him.  And she called *him* a tease, he thought ruefully, as he quickened his steps to catch up with the others.

"Oh, he looks so cute," Willow said with a giggle, leaning down to get a closer look at the sleeping watcher.

"Cute?" Xander and Buffy exclaimed in unison.  They had returned to the mansion just in time to catch Giles asleep on the job, so to speak.  In their absence he had stretched out onto the couch, and now appeared to be dead to the world.

"Shush," Anya insisted, "If we wake him up, he'll make us work again, right?" she asked, looking at the others for confirmation.

"My girl here's got a good point," agreed Xander, pulling Anya quickly out of the room so that the two could enjoy some more one-on-one time.

The others quickly followed them, eager to avoid waking the most serious member of their group.  They headed towards the living room, each of them discussing what they should do for the evening.

"Poker," Angel insisted.

"Movies," was Willow's contribution.

"Reading?" Fred asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Drinking," Spike added to the ever-growing list of suggestions.

"Okay, how about a drinking game," Buffy asked, trying to put together at least a couple of suggestions.  "With a movie on in the background," she added, seeing Willow's slightly disappointed look.

"I guess I could read any old time," Fred agreed softly.  "I've never played poker before, but it's just a game of mathematical certainties, right?" she asked.

"Yup, that's exactly what it is," Spike agreed with a devilish grin.  He decided that he liked the little brunette.  She seemed quiet and scared, but he sensed that there was a backbone hidden underneath her soft demeanor and quiet lilting voice.  Plus, she was able to put up with his broody bastard of a sire, so she must have unseen reserves of patience.

"Okay, everyone sit down," Angel commanded, grabbing several exotically colored bottles from the fully stocked bar behind him.  Green, yellow, white and blue liquids sparkled in the light.  The vampire then searched for and found several shot glasses, placing one in front of each seat.  "Here are the rules of the game.  We're playing poker, nothing's wild, no special rules, just plain simple poker.  Whoever gets the high hand doesn't have to drink.  Whoever doesn't win, well, they each take a shot of their liquor of choice."

"Hey, vampire constitution—" complained Fred.

Willow and Buffy shot her grateful looks.  They hadn't considered that point.  Vampires seemed to be notoriously good at holding their liquor, and that put the women at a distinct disadvantage. 

"All right, all right, we'll take double shots," Spike groused.  "But I'm sure it'll just be the poof here who'll be doing that, since I plan to win every hand," he added with a smirk.

"We'll see about that," Willow shot back, her competitive nature kicking in.  Angel smiled slightly as he looked at his childe and the little redhead.  She reminded him of a tiny terrier going up against a larger dog.  She knew the odds weren't in her favor, but that wasn't going to stop her from trying.

"And let the games begin," Fred intoned solemnly, before smiling and giggling breathily.

"I am drunk." Angel informed them all, a rather silly grin on his face.

"Drunk as a skunk," Spike agreed, smirking.

Willow giggled.  Soon her giggles became full-fledged laughter, and her head hit the card table with a thud.  "Oww," she complained, rubbing her forehead with her hand.

Fred was giggling too.  "You," she said, pointing at Willow between giggles and gasps for breath, "You're so funny!"

Buffy smiled at them, feeling slightly superior.  I may not have won that many hands, but I managed to hold my alcohol better than they did, she thought smugly.  Little did she know that she had a tootsie roll wrapper stuck to the top of her forehead.  The slayer was so smashed that she couldn't feel or sense it there, and nobody else was about to tell her.  They were having too much fun looking at it.

"It's almost," Angel stopped briefly to look at his watch.  Damned hands, why couldn't they stay in one place, he wondered.  Always moving, the blasted things were.  "It's almost 4am," he began again.  "Time for most good little girls to be in bed," he added, giggling at his own wittiness.  "May I escort you ladies up to your rooms?" he asked, getting somewhat unsteadily to his feet.  The dark vampire linked arms with Fred and Buffy, and the three of them stumbled their way up to their rooms.

"M'lady," Spike drawled, giving the remaining woman the same treatment.

"Oh, Spike," Willow giggled, grabbing his arm and then lurching slightly against him as she tried to get herself upright.  "Ummm…. so tired," she sighed, resting her head briefly against his shoulder.

"C'mon, you card shark you," he mumbled sleepily, "Let's get you to bed."

The previous night's revelry caused the young adults to sleep in even later than they had the previous morning, make that the previous *afternoon*.  By the time the first of them made her way down the stairs, it was shortly after 3pm.  Keeping a vampire's hours was becoming a habit, Willow thought, but not an unpleasant one.

As she made her way down the stairs, Willow spied Giles, still sprawled out on the couch in the library, as he had been the previous evening.  That's odd, she thought.  He really ought to be awake by now.

Instead of heading for the kitchen, she decided to stop in the library to make sure that the ex-librarian was all right.  She watched his chest as she entered the room, waiting for the comforting rise and fall that would indicate steady breathing.  She became more and more alarmed as she saw no evidence that Giles was breathing at all.  As she quickly reached his side, panic began to fill her, fueled by how still and pale he was.  Willow placed her fingers on his neck, trying desperately to find a pulse.  Finding nothing at all, put a hand over his heart, and then grabbed his wrist, searching frantically for a heartbeat or a pulse; anything to let her know that Giles was alive.

Then she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Angel's voice was suddenly very close to her.  "Willow?" he asked.  As she turned to look at him, he took in her devastated face.  Tears ran from her eyes, trickling down her cheeks and losing themselves as they hit her the fabric of her cotton blouse.  Her eyes were huge and heartrending, begging him to tell her that what she suspected wasn't true.

"He's dead, Angel," she said, her voice breaking.  "Giles is dead."

End of Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Spike walked down the stairs quickly, his senses registering the scent of his redhead's salty tears.  Listening carefully, he could hear Angel whisper soothingly to her, but he could not tell what his sire was saying.

As he entered the library, he could see the older man holding Willow, his arms around her, comforting her and attempting to dry her tears.  "What the bloody hell did you do to her?" he asked angrily, tugging the young woman roughly from Angel's arms and looking into her huge tear-filled eyes.

"Giles," she whispered brokenly, her eyes traveling once again to the still body on the couch.  "He—he's—" but that was all she could manage before she was sobbing again, throwing herself into Spike's arms.  He instinctively closed them around her thin frame, holding her tightly and letting her pour out all of her grief.

"When I came down here, she was looking for a pulse," Angel explained.  "The body was cold, though," he added softly.  Obviously Giles had died at some point during the late night or early morning hours.

"Any idea…?" Spike whispered. 

"No, I didn't see any signs of anything," Angel said quietly, answering his childe's unasked question.

Spike pulled away from Willow for a moment, looking down into her eyes again.  "C'mon, luv, let's get you out of here.  You don't need to see this," he told her, walking her into the living room and setting her down on one of the couches.  He disappeared for a moment before returning with a glass of the green liqueur that she had seemed so fond of the previous evening.

"Here ya go, just have a sip of this," he prompted gently, putting the glass to her lips and tipping it slightly. 

She protested, trying to move her head away from the liquid.  "Don't want it," she said, her voice quiet and child-like.

"I know, Willow.  But you need it.  You're in shock.  If you don't drink some of this, well, something will happen.  I'm not quite sure what, but whenever something awful happens in the movies, they give the girl a drink of alcohol and it fixes her right up.  So you've got to drink it, okay?"

She gave him an odd look but finally drank down some of the emerald liquid.  Willow watched with unseeing eyes as Spike sat down next to her and put a consoling arm around her.  She snuggled into the comforting gesture, trying not to think of what was going on in the room down the hall.

Just a few minutes later she heard Buffy and Xander come down the stairs, their voices exuberant and carefree.  Then she heard Angel murmur to them quietly, and the next thing she knew, she heard Buffy's sobs and her footsteps as she raced back up the stairway to her room and then slammed her door behind her. 

Willow knew that she should go to her friends and make sure that they were all right, but for some reason all she could do was huddle closer to the vampire next to her and think about all the things that she'd never have a chance to say to Giles.

The older man had been a father to her.  Not 'just like a father' but an actual father.  Her own father was a stranger who had little or no time for her.  Giles had quietly but surely taken that place in her life.  He had cheered her up when she was down; had encouraged her when she wanted to learn more; and he had praised and depended upon her growing abilities in the magicks.  He had guided her on the path to adulthood, and had never asked for anything in return.  And now he was gone, she thought sadly, tears pooling again in her emerald eyes.

"Willow," she heard Angel's soft voice calling out to her as he entered the room, his face solemn.  "I called a meeting.  Everyone will be here in a minute.  I just wanted to give you some warning."

Willow nodded her thanks to the dark-haired vampire and sat up, pulling away from Spike.  She used her hands to brush the tears away from her eyes, and when Spike put a comforting arm around her shoulder again, she gave him a tentative smile and a quickly whispered "thanks."

One by one they entered the room.  Anya and Xander held hands tightly, their faces somber.  Xander looked as if he had aged years in the space of a couple of hours.  His face was drawn into a tragic mask and his eyes looked like the eyes of someone who has seen more than they wanted to see, knew more than they wanted to know.

Next came Angel, his face sad and worried.  He and Giles had never been close, but he had respected the watcher for his intelligence and his devotion to his young charges.  Seeing those young adults now, trying to act like they were all right when they so obviously weren't, made Angel feel that respect even more strongly.  Giles had instilled that ability in them: the ability to go on and get the job done, even when everything else in their lives was falling apart.

Behind Angel came Buffy and Fred.  They were an odd couple, to be sure.  Buffy shuffled along slowly, her face thin and haggard.  The brunette seemed to be coaxing her along, whispering things in her ear that caused the blonde to start moving again after she had stopped momentarily.  Her eyes took in the faces of her friends, but it was almost as if there was nobody there behind those eyes.  They were as empty as the rest of her face, devoid of any emotion or animation.

"Buffy," Willow exclaimed softly, and blonde turned to face her.  The redhead quickly got up and ran to hug her friend, grasping her hands and drawing her down to sit with her on the couch.

All heads turned towards Angel as he cleared his throat softly. "As you all know, Giles is…no longer with us," he said carefully, not sure if the others were up to hearing the "D" word just yet.  The looks that greeted him reinforced that impression, especially the looks on the faces of Willow and Buffy.  They had both cared deeply for the former librarian.

"So far," he continued, "We haven't found any cause of death.  His passing may have been completely natural.  But considering the rather odd circumstances, I think we have to concede that there may have been something more involved."

Buffy nodded to herself, acknowledging that Angel might just have a point.  The others sat silently still, contemplating this latest information.

"Spike and I will take care of the body," he continued.  Spike opened his mouth to protest, more out of habit than anything, but a warning look from his sire made him close it again.  The last thing Willow and the others needed was to have to help with disposing of the body.

"Afterwards we can hold a small service, if you like," the dark vampire added, looking to Buffy for acknowledgement.  She nodded slightly.

"I don't know what Giles' religious beliefs were," the slayer admitted, "But I'm sure that everyone would probably like to say a few words.  I know I would," she added sadly.

Angel put a hand on Buffy's shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly.  He wished he could do more for his former love, but she had her friends, and they would grieve together in their own way, he knew. 

"The next thing I think we should do is make a thorough search of the house and the island.  It shouldn't take long, but we need to be sure that there is nobody hiding here that might have done this.  Someone who might plan on further actions."

Spike saw the wisdom in Angel's plan; he had already been thinking along the same lines.  Sure, Giles' death might have been a complete coincidence, but then again, maybe it wasn't.  If it wasn't, they had to make sure that this place was safe for the rest of them, at least until they could figure out some way to get to safety.

"You okay here luv?" Spike asked Willow, turning his head to look down into her eyes.  She nodded, her face sad and scared.  He must not have looked too convinced, because she hesitated a moment, and then gave him a shy half-smile, and whispered softly, "I'll be okay.  Thanks."

He gave her one final look, then got up and left with Angel, their footsteps ringing as they walked down the hall to the library.  Soon the others heard the front door of the house close loudly behind them as the two vampires trudged out into the early evening air.

"So what do you *really* think," Spike asked as they walked, looking for a suitable final resting place.  He was curious to find out if the elder vampire had thoughts that ran along the same lines that his did.

The older man frowned uneasily.  Bloody poof, Spike thought in annoyance.  Always had to think every last thought to death.  The man could never just say what was on his mind.  "Sometime today, if you don't mind," he added under his breath.

Angel shot his childe a look of pure irritation.  "Fine, you want to know what I think?  Well here it is.  Giles was not a young man by any means, but he certainly wasn't old enough to die.  I think there might have been something else going on here."

"Well duh," Spike said sarcastically.  "The watcher had a good couple of decades in him, by my count.  The question is, what happened, and who was behind it?  I mean, someone lured us out here, and now one of us is dead.  If someone orchestrated all this, will they stop there, or will they try again?  That's what I want to know."

Two hours later they all assembled around the hastily made gravesite, staring down at Giles' lifeless body.

"He looks so peaceful," Anya said, wonder and surprise showing in her voice.  "Almost like he just fell asleep.  Maybe after some really good sex."

The others looked at her, some with shock, some with amusement.  Xander thought about trying to explain to her why that was probably the most inappropriate comment she could possibly have made, but decided that there really wasn't any point in doing so.  She was who she was, and he loved her.  That was what he should concentrate on now, he thought.

"So, does anyone want to say anything?" Angel asked uncertainly.  He'd known hundreds of people who had died, but had never really gotten the hang of the whole 'funeral' thing.  He had always felt that the life of the one now dead should be celebrated with remembrances and stories and songs.  This whole somber showing always made him uneasy and uncertain.

"I'll go first," Anya said, as if it were some kind of a prize she was claiming.  The others let her go, holding their breath.  They were slightly uneasy about what Anya might think was an appropriate speech for a memorial service, but she surprised them all with her simple yet elegant words. The young ex-demon walked up to Giles' body and looked down at his peaceful face.  "Giles, you were one of my favorite humans, and I'm going to miss you very very much."  She reached out to gently brush her hand against his forehead, a stray tear dropping to splatter on his cheek.  Stepping back to stand next to Xander, she grabbed his hand again and rested her head gently on his shoulder.

Fred went next, walking quickly to stand beside the grave and look down.  "You seemed like a really smart, wonderful man.  I wish I had had the chance to get to know you better," she said sadly, walking back to stand next to Angel, placing a comforting hand on his arm.  He turned to look at her and gave the young woman a soft smile, briefly pressing his lips to her forehead in a chaste kiss.  She smiled back at him, her eyes surprised but not unhappy.

"I guess I'll go next," Xander said quietly.  He walked slowly to the grave and looked down at his mentor and friend.  "I'm sorry I called you G-man," he started, apropos of nothing.  "But I always meant it as a compliment.  A sign of respect.  I hope you knew that."

He stopped for a moment, trying to get his emotions under control again.  "You were like a father to me, you know?  Only you never belittled me or made me think less of myself, like my 'real' father did.  That meant a lot to me.  But you were more than just a parent; you were a friend.  And…that meant everything to me.  More than I can ever tell you.  And now you'll never know—" The young boy stopped then, unable to finish.  Anya came up to stand beside him, and while the others watched on, he hid his face in her shoulder and cried. 

Anya turned the two of them; they walked back to the house alone, leaving the others to continue on in their absence.

"Guess it's my turn," Spike commented, unusually subdued.  "The watcher and I had our fights.  Hell, he kept me tied up in his tub for the better part of a year.  But I respected him, and what he did and why he did it.  He was a good man."

Angel nodded in agreement, then walked up to the shallow grave to look down on the man within.  "He was a good man.  And a champion for good, whether he had a title or not.  He will be missed."

Willow and Buffy walked up to Giles together, tears again streaming down their faces.  "We thought we'd do this together.  Maybe it would give us more strength, or so we hoped," the blonde began.

Willow took over where the slayer left off.  "Giles, you were our mentor, our father-figure, our friend, and our unwavering moral compass.  I don't know how we're going to do this without—" and that was as far as she got before the tears fell again and her throat tightened up, making further speech impossible.

Buffy looked at her friend, and put her arm around the redhead's shoulder.  "We love you, Giles, and we'll never forget you," she said simply.  With those final words, the two women collected Fred and walked back to the house, leaving the vampires to cover the body of Rupert Giles with dirt, closing him into his final resting place.

End of Chapter 7

Chapter 8

It was a downhearted and somber gathering at lunch the next morning.  After their return from the impromptu service for Giles, each of the mourners had gone their own way, most of them spending time privately thinking about Giles, and pondering the meaning of life and other such weighty subjects. 

Now it was late morning, and the seven remaining habitants of Cemetery Island sat around the kitchen table, eschewing the formality of the beautiful dining room for the comfort and convenience of the banged-up kitchen table. 

"Are you really all right, Fred," Angel asked the brunette sitting quietly next to him, noting the far away look on her face.  Out of all of them, she had known Giles the least, but she seemed to be affected by his death just the same.

"I think so, Angel.  It's just so weird, you know?" she asked uncertainly.  "I mean, one minute he's there, and we're talking, and I'm getting to know him and I think he was a really nice man, and now he's gone and I'll never find out whether he likes music or what he thought of the Goarnian prophecies, or…death is just so final.  It's not like what you see on TV or in a movie."

"What do you mean?" Angel asked, bringing his head closer so that he didn't have to strain to hear her soft voice.

"Well on TV someone dies, and everyone mourns for a couple of hours, but then it's over, and things go back to some semblance of normality.  Only I can't do that, because every time I try to think normal thoughts, I think about him and how normal he seemed and then I think of all the things I'll never be able to talk to him about."  Her voice was still soft and lilting, but now a string of sorrow had been added to the symphony and the sound made Angel wish that he could comfort her properly.  He wanted to hold her and kiss her and promise her that nothing bad would ever happen to her again.  Instead, he simply took her hand and held it lightly, hoping that he could convey to her without words the comfort he wanted to give to her.

"I'm sorry, Fred.  This should have been a business trip, sprinkled with a little sightseeing, and instead here we are stuck in the middle of—well, whatever this is that we're in the middle of."  The dark vampire ran his hand through his hair anxiously, wishing that he could do something to ease Fred's troubled thoughts.

Their quiet moment came to a quick finish however when Xander, who had been whispering to Anya, stood up and addressed the others.

"I know that we all feel like—well, like shit.  But we need to face some facts.  Giles' death might not have been an accident or from natural causes.  I think we should search this house and this island and make sure there's nobody hiding."

The young man was surprised to see both Spike and Angel nodding their heads in agreement.  "Xander's right," Spike agreed.  The fact that he used the young man's real name showed just how serious he was.  "I guess Peaches and I should take the house, seeing as it's still light out.  Maybe the rest of you lot should break into two groups and check out the rest of the island.  We can meet back here when we're done and talk about what we've found.  Any objections?"

"Willow, Fred, you both can come with me and check out the north part of the island," Buffy said, sounding a little more like the take-charge slayer of a couple of days ago.  "Xander, you and Anya take the south part of the island, including the dock and the area around the house.  That sound good?" 

Her eyes roamed the table looking for dissenting opinions and found none.  They were all as eager as she was to get this taken care of.  The sooner they made sure that the island was empty of unwanted guests, the sooner they could accept the fact that Giles' death had been a horrible, but entirely natural, event.

"What's wrong, hun?" Xander asked Anya as they headed down towards the dock.

"I'm just thinking," Anya told him, her eyes alert and watchful.  The two young lovers were just finishing their search, having found nothing at all to support the theory that someone was hiding on the island. 

Xander stopped and sat down on the bench they had occupied the other night, pulling Anya down to sit next to him.  "I'll take care of you, you know.  You don't have to worry."

She nodded, looking out over the water with a wistful expression.  So much has changed in the last 24 hours, she thought.  And not for the better.

"What if there's nobody else on the island except us?" she asked idly.  "Do we stay here until we die?  Or will help come?"

He ran a comforting hand through her hair, resting it gently on her shoulder as he pulled her around to face him.  "Someone will come for us, Anya.  One of Angel's people, probably.  They'll be worried that they haven't heard from him, and they'll come up here to check it out."

Anya frowned.  "What if Giles' death wasn't an accident?" she asked, causes and effects and alternate scenarios chasing each other through her mind.

"If Giles' death was caused by someone or something, we'll find them.  Someone will come across them, and we'll make them tell us why they're doing this to us."

Anya shifted uneasily on the bench, not wanting to voice her fears, but still wanting Xander to calm her and make those fears disappear.  "What if nobody's on the island, but Giles' death wasn't natural," she finally whispered, sharing her worst fears with her love.

Xander looked at her in surprise.  Not because of what she had said, but because he had been thinking about the same thing.  He gave Anya a searching look, wondering what else was going on behind that pretty face.

"I'm not stupid, you know," she whispered.  "I know that people think all I care about is the shop and having orgasms.  And maybe that's what I want them to think.  But there's a lot more going on with me than just that."

Xander pulled her to him, planting his lips on hers for a soft kiss.  "You constantly surprise me, Anya.  And I mean that only in the nicest way."

She leaned against him, enjoying the comfort he gave her freely.  "I love you Xander.  And I'm afraid.  Something is very wrong here.  I can feel it.  And I don't think that Giles' death was an accident.  And if it wasn't, and we don't find someone else on the island, then that means…"

"Then that means that one of us killed him," Xander whispered softly.

Anya nodded sadly in agreement, her eyes as dark and fathomless as the ocean before them.

Angel and Spike worked efficiently, checking room after room of the huge house in an organized manner.  Angel even went as far as to bring a tape measure with him, measuring here and there to make sure that there were no hidden rooms or cubbyholes large enough to hold a person.  They had discovered two such spaces, but both were empty and showed no sign of any recent use.

The house was huge, even bigger than they had realized.  There was a large unfinished basement, empty and cavernous.  It had taken them about two minutes to do a thorough search, but forever to make the measurements work.  Finally, once Angel was assured that the room was nothing more than what it seemed, they moved on.

There was nothing more to see on the ground floor, except that that was where they found one of the hidden spaces.  It was hidden in the library, and was barely large enough to hide a person.  Still, it made the vampires uneasy.

The second floor took a little longer.  They made their way through room after room, checking every inch of space.  Spike stopped to do a little bit of snooping when he got to Willow's room.  He opened her closet and stopped for a moment to sniff her clothes, enjoying the scent that was unique to the young woman.  "Just making sure there isn't anyone hiding in here," he assured his sire, who merely smirked, knowing full well what his childe was up to.  He left the room, giving Spike the chance to be alone with…her clothes.

Boy would Willow be mad if she found out, Angel thought smugly, his mind devising ways and scenarios in which he could let the vital information slip.  Then he sighed, thinking about what they might be up against, and decided he'd better get back to work.  He steeled himself slightly before opening the door of the room that had belonged to Giles.

He surveyed the interior silently. It was simple and uncluttered, reminding him of the watcher himself.  The walls were decorated with sheet music and musical instruments, giving the room an almost festive look, which was somewhat at odds with the way he was feeling at the moment. 

Angel heard a noise in the hallway and turned quickly, ready for battle, but it was only Spike.  Together they turned back and surveyed the room. 

"He shouldn't have died that way," Angel murmured sadly.  "He should have died in battle, beside his slayer."

Spike nodded in agreement.  "That's the way he would have wanted it.  Her too, for that matter.  This just seems so…pointless, I suppose.  Hell, any number of times I wanted him to die, but I always figured I'd be the one killing him.  This way, takes all the fun out of it."

Angel smiled wistfully, his thoughts reaching back to the past.  "I remember when I first met them all.  Sometimes, in my dreams, when the soul was resting, I suppose, I'd have such dreams."

"Yeah, I've had those dreams.  Where you're standing in the middle of a room, surrounded by their corpses, blood running freely.  Your mate standing at your side.  For me it's always the redhead.  I suppose for you it was the slayer."

"Sometimes," Angel agreed quietly, his mind still stuck in the past.  "Sometimes it was someone else," he added, thinking of the innocent young redhead who still possessed such fire in her eyes.

Spike growled softly, sensing the direction his sire's thoughts had taken.  Angel looked at his childe and chuckled gently when he saw the warning expression in the blond's eyes. "Don't worry, Spike, my interests have changed.  Willow is yours.  If you have the horns to do anything about it," he added with a smirk.

The blond shot the older man a dark look.  "I've got the horns, mate.  Don't ever think otherwise.  But I'm not some bastard like Angelus.  I'm going to do this right.  I'll be the best friend she's ever had, and then when the time is right, I'll make my move."  Spike noted Angel's flinch at the name of his hated alter ego and smiled in satisfaction.  He still knew exactly which buttons to push to get a reaction from the poof.  Some things never changed.

"Speaking of horns," Spike added, his voice taking on a teasing tone, "What about you and the brunette?  You ever gonna do anything about her?  She's a right tasty morsel, she is, all tall and willowy and soft-spoken.  Wouldn't mind a try at her myself."  He smiled as he watched the thunderclouds form on Angel's face, and waited for the inevitable eruption.

Instead of the outburst he expected, the older man just grinned.  "You can't get me that easily, boy.  Besides, Willow would never go for that and you know it.  And if you hurt her, you're not only going to have to deal with the Slayer and the moron, you'll have to deal with ME.  And you *know* what kind of tortures I'd love to subject your lily-white skin to, don't you?  Just give me an excuse."  He watched as his childe's expression changed from cocky to sullen, feeling satisfaction that he'd gotten his point across.

"And as for my interest in Fred, well, you know better than anyone, except possibly Buffy, why it can never go beyond what it is now.   None of us want a reappearance of Angelus, and that's just what it would lead to if Fred and I ever got too close.  So I keep my distance and try my best to be her friend.  That's all I can do, really."

Spike felt a sudden feeling of compassion and pity for his sire.  He was destined to live forever, yet never able to be truly happy.  Life became nothing but a cruel joke with little to look forward to.  I still hate the poof, he reminded himself, but he decided it couldn't hurt to feel a little pity for the bloke.

"C'mon, mate.  Sooner we get this job finished, sooner we can relax and have a drink," Spike said, heading down the hall to take a look at the next room.

End of Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Buffy, Willow and Fred were the last ones to return to the house.  It was early evening, and the island was covered in darkness once again. 

"If there's anyone else on this island, then they're sure as hell not hiding outside anywhere," Buffy told them, nods of agreement coming from Willow and Fred. 

"We looked everywhere," Fred added softly, "But there really isn't anywhere to hide.  There are some trees around the house, but once you get past that it's pretty much open land right up to the cliffs.  And there are cliffs on every side that go straight down to the water.  The only part wide enough to even walk on is down by the dock."

"And we checked that out completely," Xander told them.  He was stretched out on the floor, Anya lying next to him, watching as he practiced with the video game.  He'd have a few tricks up his sleeve the next time Spike tried to take him on, he thought with satisfaction.

"So I guess that is that," Anya said, uncertainty coloring her voice.  "Giles died because of something completely natural.  It's really awful, but it's what you get for being a human."

Xander gave the ex-demon another of his 'not now, honey' looks, and Anya quieted, her eyes looking blankly at the TV set.  She always managed to stick her foot in it, she knew, and she just never understood how.  Sometimes she really hated being a human and having to live by human society's rules and mores.

"What do you guys want to do now?" Buffy asked. She wandered over to sit down on one of the loveseats, stretching out and crossing her long legs before kicking of her shoes.  "I don't suppose our captors thought to provide us with any board games or cards or anything, to wile away the long hours before they decide to tell us what the hell they want with us?" she added bitterly.

Everyone was silent for a moment, trying to think of something that would occupy their evening hours.

"I've got it!" Willow exclaimed excitedly.  "This game, I mean.  We used to play this game at parties."

"What game is that, Will?" Xander asked.

"You know, the one that I can never remember the name of."

"Oh, that one, I've played it a hundred times," Xander quipped, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

"Oh hush, you!" she smiled indulgently at him.  "It's the one where everyone writes down the name of someone in history that they admire, and then we put all the names in a hat.  Or, I suppose if we don't have a hat, maybe a bowl or something would work.  Anyway, everyone picks out a name and tapes it to their back, and then they have to go around asking everyone else questions about the person they picked, until they guess who it is."

"Oh, that's easy," Anya said excitedly, catching on to the idea of the game.  "And it's educational too, so it's something Giles would have approved of," she finished with a small smile.

Buffy grinned at Anya and nodded in agreement.  "Definitely something he would have been happy about."

Willow ran to the kitchen to grab paper, pencils and a bowl, and before long they were playing.  Anya was rather disappointed when she found out that she was only allowed to ask 'yes or no' questions, but other than that, everyone seemed to settle down and get into the spirit of the game.

Spike, who just happened to pick the name that Willow had written out, guessed the correct answer almost immediately.  "Giles," he told her, a melancholy expression on his face.

Willow gasped in surprise.  "How did you know?"

"Whom else would you be thinking about right now?" he answered, knowing that the former watcher had occupied most of her thoughts during the last several hours.

"Okay, my turn to ask questions," she said, making an effort to shake off her sadness, at least for now.  "So, who did I kill?" she asked Spike with a grin, when he informed her that she had his name of choice taped to her back.

"What?!?  I'm wounded," he exclaimed, grinning, looking not in the least bit offended or hurt by her question.  When Willow merely gave him a pointed look, he added, "Okay, maybe it's a reasonable question.  But it's not a 'yes or no' question, so you'll have to try again, luv."

"Okay, I'll rephrase it then," she told him, a twinkle in her eye.  "Did I kill more than 5 people?"

"Actually, no," he admitted, giving her an approving glance.

"More than two?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, whoever it is has to have killed at least a couple of people, right?"

"Right," he replied, his blank face giving her no clues.

"Hmmmm…he or she killed two people?"

Spike nodded, smiling slightly, as he watched the redhead lose herself in thought. 

"And it's a woman, right?" she asked, although by the tone of her voice she already knew the answer to the question.

"Yes," he answered, his voice teasing.

"Alive?"

"No."

"Undead?"

Spike threw back his head and gave a short bark of laughter; the sudden noise earned him surprised looks and annoyed glances from those nearby.  "I bet this is the first time that question's ever been asked during this game," he told her, a sardonic grin on his face. 

Willow thought about the absurdness of the question and agreed that he was probably right.  She grinned back at him then, her eyes sparkling in the soft light of the room.

"So let me think here…it's a woman, she's dead, she killed two people, right?"

"So far, so good," he agreed.

"Okay, gotta be Lizzie Borden," Willow said, flashing the vampire a quick, smug smile. 

"Wha—how the hell did you guess that?" the blond asked, shaking his head in amazement and admiration.

The young woman merely gave him an enigmatic smile.  "I know how your mind works, buster," she told him, as she reached around to grab the piece of paper taped to her back.  Sure enough, the name Lizzie Borden was written in Spike's neat handwriting, bringing a triumphant smile to Willow's face.

"C'mon, let's see how the others are doing," she urged, grabbing Spike's hand and pulling him towards Angel and Fred.

Spike glanced down at their clasped hands, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin against his. "So who'd the poof choose," he asked the young brunette.

"Oh, he chose George Washington," she told them, a shy smile on her lips. 

"I can not tell a lie," Angel joked.  His friends groaned at his choice of words.  "Sorry.  I'm awful at these things.  I can never come up with a good name when the pressure is on." 

"You're bloody awful at jokes too, apparently," Spike agreed, drawing a smile from both women and a growl from his sire.

"So let's see who Fred picked," Willow demanded, turning Angel around so that his back faced them.  "Hmmmm…" she said meditatively, as she saw the name René Descartes.  She turned Angel back to face the rest of them, and then gave Fred a sad look.

"You know he's never going to guess that one," Willow told the young woman.  "I mean, it's not like he's never heard of him or anything, but I just don't see it happening.

"It's a he?" Angel asked.

"Hell, you poof, what kind of questions have you been asking if you don't even know it's a guy yet?"

Fred giggled, her hand moving reflectively up to stifle the sound.  "He was being very methodical," she told them, the smile on her face getting bigger.  "First he went through all the different types of demons to make sure it wasn't one of those, then he asked if it was a vampire, and I think he was just about to ask if the person was a human."

"Angel, you've *got* to get out more," Willow told him, her laughter joining with Fred's. 

"Hey!  I've got a system!" the injured vampire insisted.  "And it was working, too."

"Of course, the point of the game is to guess the name *before* the end of the century," Spike told his sire.  "Remember, they're humans, they won't live forever.  You're gonna have to be a bit more specific in your questions."

"Gee thanks, boy," Angel said sarcastically as he glared at his smirking childe.

Willow smiled apologetically at Angel and Fred before grabbing Spike again and pulling him away from the other couple.  "If you can't play nice with Angel and Fred, we'll just have to hang out with Buffy, Xander and Anya," she told him, shooting him a mock threatening glance. 

The blond tried to glare back at her, but his heart wasn't really in it.  Gotta keep up appearances, though, he reminded himself.  Couldn't have them thinking he had gone soft.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath.  He could easily have broken away from her, or told her to go to hell, but if he was honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was enjoying being bossed around by the little redhead.  She was just so cute when she tried to be forceful.

Buffy looked up at them as they approached.  "You guys done already?" she asked, a hint of jealousy in her voice. 

Willow nodded, and then motioned for Buffy to turn around.  She read the name Lara Croft scrawled hastily on the piece of paper and groaned, her eyes meeting Xander's smiling ones.

"What, what?" he asked, his face the picture of innocence.

"I knew it!" Buffy exploded, stalking towards Xander, as he hastily moved behind Anya.  "You cheated, didn't you?  You made something up, or chose a character from a stupid computer game or something?"

Xander peered out at her from behind Anya, using his girlfriend as an impromptu shield against the angry slayer.  "Um, maybe," he conceded guiltily.

Willow laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.  "In his defense, Buffy, he probably really *does* admire her quite a bit.  In fact, when he was a teenager, I bet he 'admired' her every night when he was alone in his bedroom."

The blond vampire snorted with glee, and Xander's eyes went wide with horror as Anya turned on him and demanded, "What exactly does she mean by that, Alexander Harris?" 

Spike grinned at the young woman next to him and leaned down to whisper in her ear.  "Now who's not playing nice," he asked, caught by surprise when Willow suddenly turned her head to look up into his cold blue eyes.  A slight smile played around her lips, and her brilliant green eyes were wide with laughter, and something else he couldn't quite define.

"I think my work here is done," Willow said with a grin, leaving Buffy to referee between an enraged Anya and an apologetic, and uncharacteristically tongue-tied, Xander. 

"Take me for a walk?" she asked her partner in crime, that teasing smile still on her face.

"Anywhere you want to go," he agreed, falling into an easy step beside her.

They walked down to the dock in a companionable silence, Spike casting occasional glances at the young woman beside him. 

When they reached the dock, Willow sat down on the bench, pulling Spike down next to her.  He watched her face, looking for a clue to her mood, but nothing was forthcoming.

"You're different tonight, aren't you?"  It wasn't really a question, more of a statement.

Willow nodded her head in agreement, seeming to be deep in thought.  Her eyes gazed out over the fog-covered water, as if searching for answers.

"Why?  Is it because of the watcher?"

She turned to look at him, grateful for his perceptiveness.  Then she turned back towards the water.  "I suppose it is," she admitted, "But not the way you think, probably."

"Then in what way, Willow? Tell me," he demanded quietly.

She turned to face him then, and he marveled at her beauty, and the way that the muted lights from the house bounced off of her stunning blood-red hair.  Her emerald eyes shone brightly with a range of emotions:  sadness, regret, determination, and even a bit of fear.  Fear, he wondered?  Surely she knew that she had nothing to fear from him. 

Willow took a deep breath, held it as long as she could, and then began to speak.  "Giles died without warning, and it made me think about some things.  Things about myself, and my feelings, and what I want out of life."  When it looked like he might interrupt her, she held her hand up, stopping him.

"No, I need to say this.  For better or for worse, I need to know."

"Need to know what, luv?" he asked, as she lapsed into a brief silence.

"How you feel about me," she said bluntly, looking at the shocked vampire next to her.  She blushed then, a deep red crimson that no ordinary human would have been able to see in the darkness of the night.  But Spike could see it.

"Damn it," she swore softly, too embarrassed to even look at the blond's face.  "That is *not* the way this was supposed to go.  I planned this whole conversation, you know?  I was going to say that I had feelings for you, and then you were going to say whatever it was you would say, and then I would either be all happy and excited, or all disappointed, but oh, we can still be friends, and stuff like that."

She stopped, suddenly, and when she heard the vampire next to her start to laugh quietly, she stole a look at his face.  The smile he wore was large and happy, and suddenly hope crept into her heart that somehow he did indeed feel something for her.

Spike saw her staring at him and his laughter faded, but a gentle smile remained.  He understood now why he had seen fear in her eyes earlier.  It hadn't been fear of him; it had been fear of rejection.  She had been afraid that after she'd poured out her heart to him, he would stomp all over it.

He grasped her small warm hands in his own cold ones and turned her to face him.  "Willow," he began, trying to memorize this moment, "I do have feelings for you.  Strong ones.  I'm not sure where they will lead, but I want to follow them, and you, wherever you want to go."

She released a deep breath, unaware that she had even been holding it.  He had feelings for her, she thought excitedly, his words to her ringing repeatedly through her head. 

Suddenly she smiled, and it was as if Spike was seeing the sun for the first time in ages.  The brightness that shone from her eyes was blinding in its intensity.  In that instant he realized that living with her for an eternity would not be long enough.  Damn it all, to hell with that romantic drivel, he thought, as he cupped her face lightly in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

Willow sighed as they kissed, her lips parting automatically to allow his tongue to explore her eager mouth.  His hands moved from her face to her hair, teasing the long silky tresses with his fingers.  Soon she was breathing heavily, and damning her humanity and the fact that it made breathing necessary at all.

Finally Spike pulled away from her regretfully.  "We'd better get back, Willow.  The others will start to worry, I'm sure, and well, with Buffy in the mood she's in, I don't want to be pissing her off any more than usual.  Now that you're my girl, I suppose I have to promise not to kill her, don't I?"  He asked the question teasingly, but Willow suspected that there was a certain amount of seriousness behind his joking.

She looked at him, and with a light, but serious tone, set down the first rule of their relationship:  "If we're going to be together, you have to promise not to kill *any* of my friends.  That's not too much to ask, is it?"

End of Chapter 9

Chapter 10

They slowly walked back to the house hand in hand.  Few words were spoken, but much was said with the looks they cast at one another.  Their understanding was new and fragile, and neither one was sure exactly how they should act around one another.

"Should we tell the others? Do you think they'll understand?" Willow whispered nervously, as she approached the front door of the house.  "Not that it matters whether they do or not," she continued hurriedly, casting a quick look up to his face to make sure he understood her reasoning.  "I just mean, I don't know if we should go in there and make a big announcement, or whether we should just let them figure it out themselves."

Spike nodded, slightly relieved.  For a minute there, he'd been afraid that she intended to hide their relationship.  The very thought that she would want to do that had saddened and angered him at the same time.  He had no intention of being kept out of any part of her life.  If they were to be together, everyone was going to know.

"When we walk in together," he said softly, his voice low and seductive, "and I hold you like this," he added, pulling her into the circle of his arms, "I think they'll get the idea."  He smiled down at her radiant face, wishing that they could stand like this forever.  Unfortunately, dawn would come sooner or later, and by then it would behoove him to be inside.  After all, dating a vampire is one thing; dating a pile of dust is another one entirely.

"And if they still don't get it," Willow giggled, enjoying their game, "I could do this a couple of times," she said, pressing her lips to his, and linking her arms around his strong, pale neck. 

"Any time you w—" Spike began, but was interrupted by the opening of the door in front of them.  Xander and Anya stood within the threshold of the house, looking with surprise at the happy couple on the doorstep.

"I thought—" Xander began, slightly dazed.  He blinked several times, just making sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. "You were—he was," but the poor boy couldn't seem to spit out the words.

Anya took charge of the situation then, deciding that Xander had embarrassed himself enough for one night.  "We thought we heard a noise outside," she explained.  "But obviously it was nothing.  Well, not nothing.  Definitely not nothing. But none of our business."

Willow, still comfortable in the vampire's arms, took in Xander's confusion and began to giggle.   Xander looked back at her, stunned at first, and then he too began to laugh.  Perhaps it was the situation, or maybe it was just the need for something happy to break their tension, but soon Spike and Anya were laughing out loud as well.

"I guess we don't have to worry about how to tell everyone now," the vampire whispered into her ear as he nuzzled her neck.  Willow nodded happily in agreement.  As they entered the hallway, Buffy, Angel and Fred appeared from the living room, wondering what had been the cause for such hilarity.  One look at Willow, held safely and comfortably in Spike's arms, and the smiles on both their faces, and it became obvious.

"So you finally decided to do something about it?  I would have bet good money that you'd go to your grave, again, without telling her how you feel." Angel's words brought a soft growl from Spike, but Willow's hand on his shoulder stopped him from telling his sire exactly what he thought of him.

"Angel, play nice," Fred remonstrated, talking softly as if to a wayward child.

The dark vampire looked over at the brunette that he had such feelings for, and realized that his teasing words were at least partly motivated by jealousy.  Spike had had the horns to actually open up to the woman he cared for.  Angel didn't.  Then again, Spike could make love to Willow without turning into a homicidal maniac.  No matter how much he wanted to, he'd never be able to do that with Fred.  It was just too big of a chance to take.

"So, um, you two are, like, together?" Buffy asked, frowning.  "I mean, I guess it's pretty obvious, but I just want to be sure, because, well, spells go wrong sometimes and things happen, and …" she trailed off uncomfortably.

"Yeah, we're together, and it has nothin' to do with some bleedin' spell, so you can just forget that little idea," Spike answered, sensing some antagonism behind the slayer's question and answering it with a little hostility of his own.

"I'm sure that's not what she meant," Willow assured him.  "I mean, she's my friend, and she wants me to be happy.  Right, Buffy?" The redhead shot her friend a questioning, and slightly pleading look, and Buffy decided that she would back off, for now.  She had always tolerated Spike's existence within their group because he was useful.  But if he thought for one minute that she would let him date Willow—Willow, of all people, well then, he was in for a rude awakening.  As soon as they were off this god-forsaken island, that is.  And if shortly after that, a certain bleach-blond vampire had a slight accident, well, things happen sometimes, especially on a hellmouth.

"Sure, whatever," she mumbled, ignoring the questioning looks she got from Xander and Anya as she headed up to her room.  The others jumped slightly as the slam of her door reverberated around the house like a shot.

"Well, that went well," Willow remarked, attempting to inject some cheer into her voice and failing miserably.  She was not quite sure what had just happened between her and Buffy.

"Don't worry Will, she'll come around," Xander told her, giving her a consoling smile.

"Surprised you're not right there along with her," Spike remarked carefully, knowing that the young man before him had never been one of his biggest fans.

"Nah, you and I get along okay now, don't we, now that you're not trying to kill me, that is.  At any rate, I know you'll take good care of Willow.  Because, if you don't, Buffy, Angel and I will just come around and kick your ass, right?" he added with a lopsided smile.  "Either way, it's a win-win situation for me."

The group dispersed as they laughed at Xander's words, but underneath the laughter there was still a thread of uneasiness.  There were just too many uncertainties right now.  Not just with the bright and shiny new couple standing uncertainly in the foyer, but also with their situation on this island and the intentions of those keeping them here.  Would their captors *ever* make themselves known? 

Willow also knew that Buffy would make 'them,' whoever they were, pay for the death of her watcher.  How would that affect the situation?  The slayer seemed less than mentally stable at the moment, although one could hardly blame her, considering all she'd gone through.  Giles had been more than a father figure to her.  He had also been her friend, her confidant, and her watcher.  She had lost so very much in the space of a heartbeat.

Maybe I'm being too hard on Buffy, Willow thought.  How can I expect her to be happy for Spike and me when she's still trying to get over Giles' death?  Then again, how can *I* be so happy when we laid Giles' body to rest so recently?  Am I just a terrible person?

"I can see those wheels in your head spinnin' round and round, luv.  You're makin' me positively dizzy.  Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" Spike's worried words penetrated her internal monologue, and she looked up at him, trying to hide her uncertainty from his sharp eyes.  His arm around her shoulder tightened, as he pulled her into the safety of his embrace, and she held onto him like a lifeline to happiness.  Sadness and self-recriminations threatened to overwhelm her, and he seemed to be the only one who could pull her away from it.

"Just thinking about Giles," she admitted, hiding her head against his chest. 

"You don't think he would have approved of this, do you?"

She knew what 'this' he was referring to.  That particular thought hadn't actually crossed her mind. "Honestly, Spike, I hadn't even thought about that.  I was just missing him.  And I can't even conceive of how bad it must be for Buffy."

Spike knew that her thoughts lingered on the confrontation they had had earlier with Buffy.  Running a comforting hand through her silky red hair, he murmured, "She'll come around, Willow.  You know she's upset right now, what with everything that's happened. Just give her some time."  And if that doesn't work, he thought grimly, well, slayers don't stay around forever.  It was truly amazing that this one had lasted as long as she had, really.  Although in truth, Spike knew that a lot of the credit for her longevity was due to the very people on this island.  Without her friends Buffy was good, but she wasn't *that* good.

"C'mon luv, it's getting late.  Or early, I suppose.  Either way, it's time to get you to bed."  He took a step back from her and swung an arm around her shoulder.  Willow snuggled against him, and a smile lit his solemn countenance.  She snuck a quick look up at him, catching the smile before he had a chance to wipe off of his face. 

"I'm glad you're here," she told him seriously, smiling back at him.  "As long as we're together, I think I can handle whatever there is to come."

Little did she know just how much more she was going to have to deal with.

End of Chapter 10

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