Willow surveyed the sight before her, bemused. She was standing in the centre of a stone circle, surrounded by shadows - and she was not alone. To her right was a wall of fire, shimmering with red tongues of flame spurting from a pale blue core. In front of her was a cloud of dust, and as she watched the form become more defined and solid, no longer a loose cloud but a definite human looking shape. Finally on her left was a whirling spiral of wind, dashing around in a circle, almost dancing as it spun.

(I hope this is a dream,) she thought, (although with the Hellmouth you never can tell.) Looking down Willow realised she was naked and breathed a sigh of relief - (definitely a dream then). Her relief was short-lived, as the three images in front of her began to move forward, encircling her.

Her nervousness increased as she began to feel the power of the apparitions. While she told herself it was only a dream, she could feel her hair lifting and moving as the breeze from the wind dancer brushed across her skin. At the same time a nervous shiver ran through her as the dust figure reached shadowy hands in her direction. Scared despite her attempts to remain calm - (it's just a dream, just a dream) - she backed away from the figure, only to be engulfed in flames.

She woke up with a scream on her lips, to find herself looking into the concerned eyes of her roommate. Willow struggled to focus on her surroundings, still feeling the licks of flame stroking her skin, and the almost unbearable heat blanketing her body.

"Bad dream?" asked Buffy, as she finished dressing. Buffy paused at the door, ready to head off.

"I don't know, I don't remember it". Willow's clumsy lie was accepted without question as Buffy waved goodbye, leaving a shaken Willow behind. Willow slowly got out of bed, then headed to the shower to try to wash the feeling of the flames off her skin.

Having been best friends with the Slayer for years, and having spent countless hours researching dreams and prophecies, Willow knew better than to simply disregard her dream. It had had a very strange quality to it. Normally Willow's dreams were of tearful reunions with Oz, or performing deeds of heroism that earnt her the respect and admiration of her fellow Scoobies. This was the first time that she had been so detached that she had know it was a dream even while it was happening, while at the same time being unable to control events.

Puzzling over what was the best thing to do, Willow finally decided that her dream was too vague to be considered a prophecy - anyway, that was the Slayer's territory, not hers. Could it have been a warning? (Hey, it's not like I was going to start being best buddies with the king of the dust people). Deciding that there was nothing to be done at present, Willow saw no point in mentioning it to the others.

A day of classes finished, Willow rushed to the library to check out some books for her new assignment before heading to Giles' place for their weekly research session. Throughout the day she had been reminded of her dream by the frequent and sudden sensation of flames caressing her body, causing her normally pale skin to turn red and her mood to turn black.

Her mood was not helped by her resentful thoughts as she approached Giles' and reflected that these meetings were just about the only time that she now saw her friends: Xander was always busy having "the sex" with Anya or trying to find a job; Buffy was intent on bonding with Riley, which left barely enough time for her to attend classes (lucky he was a TA - psych classes were about the only ones Buffy could be counted on to attend); and as for Giles, Willow was not that comfortable thinking of him as a friend, as someone she could hang out with. For one thing he was old - in an old-enough-to-really-be- your-father way. Also, he was Buffy's, at least in Willow's mind. It seemed wrong somehow to imagine any conversation or meeting between herself and Giles if Buffy wasn't either there in person or the subject of the conversation.

As for Spike ... while he might be acting like a Scooby team member for now, Willow was very aware that he was motivated solely by self- interest and his survival instinct. A non-bitey vampire didn't have many friends, and Willow knew that Spike's assistance (limited though it was) was obtained courtesy of Giles' regular provision of bagged blood.

These thoughts made Willow's mood even more sour. Sometimes, in her more wishful fantasies, her dream lover would bear a remarkable resemblance to the bleached blond, despite the protests of her logical mind - remember bottle in face! fangs in neck!

Reality was far from making this an issue however. Despite her best efforts at being friendly (after all, now that Buffy had Riley and Xander had Anya, Spike and Willow were the two loose ends of the group) it seemed to Willow that Spike was even ruder to her than to the rest of the gang. (Typical), she brooded. (Even an impotent demon can't be bothered to spend time with me). And so she ruthlessly blocked her more-than-friendly thoughts about the vampire from her mind.

As she knocked on Giles' door Willow mentally shook off her black mood, (I'll be giving Angel a battle for Brooder of the Year at this rate), and pasted on her usual friendly Willow-smile as Giles ushered her inside with a muttered greeting.

"Yes, Willow, excellent, just in time, sit down then." As Giles fussed with a pile of papers Willow looked quickly around the room. Buffy was already seated at the table, pretending to look at books while instead gazing at Riley, who was lurking nearby looking uncomfortable. Over the protests of just about everyone (especially Spike, who was none too pleased to have to share space with one of the people who had chipped him) Buffy had invited Riley to the most recent meetings.

While trying to be as charitable as possible (it's early days yet) so far as Willow could see Riley had done absolutely nothing useful at these meetings, and his only accomplishment seemed to be distracting Buffy and ensuring that she also did nothing except flirt with him.

Willow sighed, exasperated with her own bitchy thoughts, and tried valiantly to re-create her usual positive mood. She said a cheery "hello" to Xander, who nodded in her general direction before shoveling another Twinkie into his mouth and turning his attention back to Anya, listening with a glazed look on his face as she continued what appeared to be a long and involved story from her demon glory days.

That left - Spike. He of the sculpted cheekbones and gorgeous ass - not that she'd noticed, of course. Willow held on with difficulty to her smile of welcome as Spike looked up and scowled at her.

"Perfect, the student witch is here."

Willow ignored him and sat down, forcing her gaze to Giles as he appeared to have finally finished shuffling his books and was ready to speak. Willow struggled to pay attention as Giles began to describe the latest demon that Buffy had come across on patrol. Apparently these particular demons, who could travel through portals to different dimensions, were not usually seen on this plane and Giles was concerned that they may be a sign of something amiss. So - research.

Gathering up an armful of books, Willow positioned herself next to Spike on the sofa and began to look for information. Despite herself she was hyper-aware of Spike's every movement, every twitch, every mutter as he also picked up a book and began to read about a completely irrelevant demon.

An hour later Willow had accomplished little except to work herself into a lust-crazed state, and every time that Spike moved she could not stop herself from letting her eyes drift over his fidgeting frame, imagining how cool his hands would feel against her flushed skin, and that tongue ...

Her thoughts, lustful and otherwise, came to an abrupt halt as the room around her suddenly melted away, and she found herself once again in the centre of the stone circle of her dream from this morning.

(Wow, did I really fall asleep during a research session? Buffy will never let me hear the end of this) mused Willow as she took a closer look at her surroundings. The wind dancer and dust figure were still there, but at the edge of the circle and a comfortable distance away.

There was no sign of the fire - until Willow looked down, and saw that she was on fire, her skin barely visible through a moving layer of flame.

(How beautiful) Willow thought, admiring the way the fire moved over her skin before becoming aware that the fire was sinking into her, moving below her skin to pass through muscle and settle in her bones, her heart, her brain. She could feel the fire within her, and the relentless heat, but it did not burn her.

Willow felt the meaning of the dream to be just beyond reach, and she watched with interest as the other two figures came slowly closer. She moved towards them, reaching out her seemingly normal hands, when a hand grabbed her shoulder.

Startled, she looked around to find herself once again in Giles' home, with the others oblivious to her. Except for Spike, who started to say something (unpleasant, judging from the look in his eyes) only to stop with his mouth open and a surprised look on his face as his eyes caught hers.

"What?" said Willow irritably, as she shrugged his hand off her shoulder, while shivers ran down her spine from the sensation of his hand on her, skin separated by only thin layers of cotton.

Spike looked puzzled as he again looked at her face, as if searching for something. Shaking his head, and without saying a word, Spike stood and headed for the door, responding to Giles half spoken reproach with a brusque "That's it for me pets, things to do, you know" as he slammed the door behind him.

Giving Willow another reason to brood, as she did her best to ignore fiery dreams and lust inducing vampires and focus instead on research.

Monday night

Buffy and Riley insisted on walking Willow back to the dorm, and she knew enough of what goes bump in the night to be grateful for the company. As she walked Willow tried to ignore the strange sensations she was experiencing - it was as if she could see forms moving around her, not with her eyes but with her mind's eye. As she viewed these half seen, pale coloured forms they seemed like mist, coalescing and then dispersing. Willow was again aware of the sensation of power within her, of a restrained fire ready to burst free.

She was starting to get concerned - these feelings were getting harder to dismiss, and Willow was worried about what would happen when she slept tonight. As they approached the dorms, Willow looked at Buffy and tried to think of a way to ask her to stay tonight, but after enduring several of Buffy's lectures about independence in the post-Oz days, she did not want to irritate her friend by being too clingy.

As Willow struggled for the right words, Buffy said a cheery good-bye and headed off with Riley to spend some quality time patrolling with him. Willow knew that meant Buffy would not be returning to their room tonight, but she refused to be frightened - after all, she had faced an ascending Mayor, vampires, re-animated Inca mummy princesses and numerous other Hellmouth nasties - no dream was going to get to her.

(Yep, you bet), she told herself as she prepared for bed. (Just a bad dream, all finished now, tonight it's bunny rabbits and fluffy kitten dreams for me).And still muttering such reassuring words, she got into bed and almost immediately fell asleep.

Willow opened her eyes and was unsurprised to find herself back in the stone circle. She looked at her usual companions, and having little hope of getting much useful information out of a wind spiral she turned to Dust Boy.

"Hello", she said - (no need to forget my manners) she thought, and reflected on her luck in having a dream voice. Her constant inner conversation was interrupted by the response of the dust figure, who did not seem to share Willow's views on the importance of social pleasantries.

"It has begun", the voice stated, in a bass rumble. Just as Willow was about to ask what exactly had begun, the voice continued. "Perform the rite and form the circle. Choose carefully. Follow the path of the Servants of Gaia".

As he finished speaking Willow saw the wind spiral draw closer to her, its cool touch creating a delicious balance with the fire still burning in her veins. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the sensation, and heard the dust creatures voice boom again, "Choose well," but this time the voice seemed to be distant, and when Willow opened her eyes again she found herself back in her dorm room. A breeze came through the open window, and the feeling of the wind caressing her skin provided an all too vivid reminder of her dream.

(At least that one was a bit more useful) she thought, pondering the words of Dust Boy. (But who or what is a servant of Gaia?) Still, she now had some concrete information, and she was also certain that these dreams had some deeper meaning, and were not merely the ramblings of her sub-conscious.

A glance at her clock showed that it was barely 3am, but Willow felt totally wired. She couldn't call Giles, but maybe the Net could provide some answers. After checking at the best of the Wiccan and magic sites, she was somewhat the wiser. There were vague references to the Servants of Gaia, who apparently were a coven of powerful witches, yet the few pieces of information she had found had been in the demon sections, which led to an obvious conclusion that she was not very keen to draw.

Having gathered more food for thought, Willow shut down her computer and saw it was just past 4am. She could feel the walls of her room closing in on her, and anxious to quieten the mutterings of her over- excited brain she got dressed, grabbed her Hellmouth survival kit - holy water, cross and stake - and headed out, hoping a quick walk would help to clear her thoughts.

Leaving the campus behind, Willow headed towards a nearby park, deliberately choosing a route that would avoid cemeteries and other vampire hot-spots. She wanted to walk, but despite the stake clutched in her hand she had no desire to test her meager fighting skills. Sometimes she envied Buffy her strength - it was not easy always being the weak one. Willow felt the others often saw her as a liability when fighting. Even Xander sometimes did patrols with Buffy, but Willow couldn't remember the last time she had been invited. It wasn't that she actually wanted to fight, but those pre-dawn walks with Buffy had provided lots of opportunities for heart-to-heart talks - the kind that had become almost non-existent in recent months.

Willow was drawn from her musings by the certain sensation that she was being followed. She could feel the presence, and she knew immediately that it was a vampire. She took hold of her cross in her free hand, the other gripping her stake so hard that her knuckles were white.

She continued walking, trying to work out her best escape route. However she knew her time was running out as she felt the presence draw close behind her. Gathering her courage, she spun around and thrust her cross in the face of the vampire who was almost within arm's reach.

In full game face, the vampire was momentarily startled, but before Willow had time to take advantage of his shock he had recovered, and so fast that it was only a blur his right hand shot out and punched Willow full in the face. The force was sufficient to knock her to the ground, and her head hit the pavement with an audible thud. As Willow tried to focus her eyes, she felt the vampire sit astride her chest, holding both of her arms above her head with one of his hands while the other moved her head to a better angle, exposing the long line of her neck to his appreciative glance.

Two things occurred to Willow simultaneously: her hands were empty, and she was in seriously deep shit. But despite the limited hope available to her, Willow was nothing if not a fighter, and she began wriggling furiously, trying to buck the vampire off her. She soon stopped when the vampire leered, saying to her "So you want to play? Keep that up and you're going to die afterwards, instead of now".

As his crotch was practically in her face, she had little doubt as to the meaning of his words, the large lump under his jeans being sufficient explanation. Willow suddenly felt numb - surely after everything she had been through she was not going to die like this, at the hands of some slobbering fledgling, alone in a park while the residents of Sunnydale slept peacefully nearby? (Where's a Slayer when you need one?) Willow thought sadly, as she felt cold fingers grab the back of her head and arch her neck, and elongated fangs sliced through the thin skin and began to messily suck out her life blood.

Willow could feel herself becoming light-headed, and she was suddenly conscious again of the sensation of a fire within. Time seemed to slow - the vampire was still slurping at her neck, and Willow realised she had felt the fire ever since her latest dream; she was becoming so used to the sensation that it had not consciously registered, the same as she did not normally notice that she was breathing, or that her heart was pumping.

However she now focused on the sensation of the warmth within, and was somehow comforted by it as her vision began to dim. Suddenly through the fog that had settled over her she realised that the fangs had withdrawn from her neck. She head a blood-curdling scream, saw what appeared to be a bright flash of light, and then her face was covered in dust. (Just what I need, a visit from Dust Boy) Willow thought as she tried unsuccessfully to stay conscious, before finally succumbing to the darkness.