Suffer In Silence

By Mercedes

Title: Suffer in Silence

Author: Mercedes D'arcy
E-mail: [email protected]
Disclaimer:  I own none of the characters mentioned here, they are the property of Joss and others.  The song is 4am by Our Lady Peace from their album Clumsy.
Distribution: Want it? Tell me and have it!
Relationships: W/S, well soon anyway, possible some W/A
Feedback: This is my first fic, and I would really appreciate some advice, comments, whatever.
Warning: Flames will be put in a small box and laughed at, even if it is tacky to do so.
Author's Notes:
1. Takes place a while after Initiative.  The Initiative has been dealtwith.
2. Emphasis is _between_ those things, thoughts are <between> these.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Prologue

        "Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can.  Of course, sooner if possible.

Hell!  Am I _not_ doing enough for you that I can even say good bye?
Oh of
course, I'm honored for the privilege."  Slamming down the phone Spike
gathered his last gift and walked out of the mansion.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part One - 4am

        Willow woke with a start, there was someone knocking at her door.
<Probably
one of Buffy's gentleman callers".  Why do they have to call at
4:00am?!>
Walking over to the door Willow checked her reflection in the mirror
and
turned on the lights.  When groggily calling out "Who is it?" produced
no
answer, Willow cautiously opened the door and saw a very anxious
looking
Spike.   <Wha?  He looks even more hyper than usual?>

        "What is it?  Buffy isn't here so I'll take a message."

        "The way you talk you'd think the sun rises and sets out of the
Slayer's
ass.  I'm not here for her.  I came to give you this," and with that
Spike
handed her a shoebox and left.

        Willow always believed that certain objects revealed a person's
psyche.
Usually these objects were the most important things to them.  For
example,
she thought that Giles was like a book, you should never judge him by
appearances.  Spike was his duster, whenever Willow saw him it was
dramatically billowing.  But now as he walked away it just lay there,
it was
merely clothing.  Mildly worried and fully awake, Willow went back into
her
room and sat on her bed.

        She picked up the object and looked at it.  Then the redhead began to
talk
to herself, "Well Willow, what's in the box?  I should use my senses
and see
if I can figure it out without opening it, after all, it may be
something
icky.  <shudder> The box isn't wet, so unless he plastic wrapped it,
it's
not part of someone.  It is heavy.  It rattles.  It doesn't smell bad.

Might as well open it, after all, curiosity killed the cat.  And I'm
not a
cat, hell I dated a dog."

        Putting it on the end of her bed, she carefully flicked the lid off.
After
nothing happened she slowly pulled it forward.

        "Odd.  A CD, a book, and a smaller box."  With her brow furrowed and
her
full cognitive processes running Willow began to piece things together.

        "Not much help here, hopefully the CD might give me a hint," picking
up the
case she studied it.  Noticing that there was no label she assumed that
he
had it pirated.

"Typical, couldn't go and buy the CD, could he?" she went over to her
CD
player and put it in.  Right away she recognized the opening to one of
her
favorite songs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

i walked around my good intentions / and found that there were none / i

blame my father for the wasted years / we hardly talked / i never
thought i
would forget this hate / then a phone call made me realize / i'm wrong
//

i walked around my room / not thinking / just sinking in this box / i
blame
myself for being too much / like somebody else / i never thought i
would
just / bend this way //

if i don't make it known that / i've loved you all along / just like
sunny
days that / we ignore because / we're all dumb and jaded/ and i hope to
God
i figure out / what's wrong //

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Oh dear, I don't think I can handle this all by myself.  Time to go to
the
place they never mention in the Club Med brochures, The Last Resort."
Willow walked over to her phone, and dialed the number from memory.

"Angel?  Not to sound _too_ cliched here, but I think there's a
problem."

End Part (1/?)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Okay, do ya like it?  Should I continue?
 
 

Title: Suffer in Silence (2/?)

Author: Mercedes D'arcy
E-mail: [email protected]
Disclaimer:  I own none of the characters mentioned here, they are the
property of Joss and others.  The song is #1 Crush by Garbage from the
Romeo
and Juliet soundtrack.  Lyrics Copyright of Vibecrusher Music/Irving
Music,
Inc. (BMI) - Deadarm Music - Almo Music Corp (ASCAP)
Distribution: Want it? Tell me and have it!
Feedback: This is my first fic, and I would really appreciate some
advice,
comments, whatever.
Warning: Flames will be put in a small box and laughed at, even if it
is
tacky to do so.
Author's Notes:
1. Takes place a while after Initiative.  The Initiative has been dealt
with.
2. Emphasis is _between_ those things, thoughts are <between> these.
3. Recap; Spike left Willow with a box.  She called Angel for guidance.
This is their conversation.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter Two - Something Pure and True

"Willow, my advice is to keep the box closed.  Don't open it.  You
can't
predict what Spike will do."

"Umm, too late?  It wasn't anything dangerous.  Just a CD, a book and a
smaller box," replied a frustrated Willow. <It's bad enough that I'm on
the
phone at 4:00am, but to be patronized as well?  This hacker ain't gonna
take
it.>

"Fine. It was an unnecessary chance.  Not to be rude, why call me and
not
ask Buffy or Giles?  They know about this right?" <Serves the little
bastard
right if he gets hurt, maybe I'll help.> Angel was talking on
speakerphone
so he could walk and talk at the same time.

"Know about this as in know that Spike gave me the box and left?  Not
really?  I was hoping that you could help me figure out what the stuff
means," continuing before Angle could jump in and scold her, "the book
is a
very early edition of William Blake poetry, the inside cover says ‘from
Will
to The Tyger'.  It looks fairly valuable.  In the box are two pieces of
jewelry.  One is some sort of silver coin on a chain, and the other is
a
silver and amber ring." <Come on o' wise lurking one. You think.>

"Oh shit."

"Did you swear?  ‘Cause I think I heard you swear." <Hate to say it,
but
‘told you so'.  See there is a problem> "So, what's it mean?"

"On the back of the coin can you read what it says?"  The brooding
vampire
held his head in his hands, he was already sure what it would say.

Carefully flipping it over Willow tried to remove the tarnish.  "Umm,
looks
like ‘Our Father which art in heaven.'  Angel, why would a vampire have
a
copy of the Lord's Prayer?"

"The book was mine, the coin was Dru's, and I think the ring is for
you,
amber's a protection stone.  These are the most important things to
Spike.
He wouldn't leave them unless he didn't think he would be coming back.
Hate
to say this, but he's left you guys to fend for yourself." <Knew he
couldn't
be trusted to help them.>

"Angel, I don't think so.  I've listened to the lyrics on the CD.  It's
my
opinion that he's left to try and help us somehow.  I even think that
he
forgave you."

"He forgave me?  How do you come by that conclusion?"

"Well, I think that he left us some idea of what he's going to do
because of
the lyrics.  According to the first song, he blames you, but something
made
him realize that he can't anymore."

"You may be right Willow.  So how do we know that he's not just gone to
the
coast for a tan?  <I hope that he goes sunbathing> Willow?  Willow why
aren't you answering?  What's wrong?"

"Oh shit."

"I think that was my line.  What is it?"

"The CD.  I know this song, it's #1 Crush.  Listen Angel."  Willow put
the
phone to the speakers, and Angel felt the first feelings of an emotion
he
hadn't felt in a long time.  Worry for his childe.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I would die for you / I would die for you / I've been dying just to
feel you
by my side / To know that you're mine//
I will cry for you / I will cry for you / I will wash away your pain
with
all my tears / And I will feel //
I will pray for you / I will pray for you / I will sell my soul for
something pure and true / Someone like you //
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Willow, I think you may be right.  I'll get in touch with some people
I
know over here, then call you tomorrow.  Don't let Buffy know.  I think
that
it will . . . _upset_  her."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I will burn for you / Feel pain for you / I will twist the knife and
bleed
my aching heart / I'll tear it apart //
I will lie for you / I can steal for you / I will crawl on hands and
knees
until you see / You're just like me//
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Thanks Angel, talk to you tomorrow," and with a sigh Willow hung up
the
phone.  She just sat on her bed and stared at the wall thinking, not
quite
brooding, but getting close.  <You stupid British twit what have you
gotten
yourself into now.>

Meanwhile, in LA the dark vampire sat in the dark brooding.  He was
talented, he could think and brood at the same time.  He knew that one
line
of song was so true that it hurt, "Violate all my love that I'm missing
/
Throw away all the pain that I'm living / You will believe in me / And
I can
never be ignored //" Talking to know one in particular he spoke "No,
you'd
never let me ignore you.  Stupid British twit what have you gotten
yourself
into now?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Still driving north, Spike listened to the end of one of his favorite
songs.
  And decided that he would follow through with what he was asked.

I would die for you / I would kill for you / I will steal for you / I'd
do
time for you / I would rape for you / I'd make room for you / I'd sail
ships
for you / To be close to you / To be a part of you / 'Cause I believe
in you
/ I believe in you / I would die for you //

"Yah mate, and more."

*******
Chapter Three - Lonely View

Frustrated, but not showing it, Angel hung up the phone.  He had just
exhausted the last of his contacts.  No one had seen his errant childe.
 Not
knowing what to do he leaned back in his chair, taking an unneeded
breath he
rubbed his temples. <funny, you never lose some habits> Disturbed from
his
reverie by the door opening he felt he should speak first.

"Hey Cordelia."

"Afternoon, oh Lord of Brooding.  Ugh, you look worse than usual.  Not
that
you normally look bad.  "Cept you need more colour and . . ."

"Thanks."

"Fine.  Is there anything I can help you with?  ‘Cause I only came to
say hi
and bye, then leave."

"Sure, you can help," Angel's dark humour surfaced, "do you know how to
find
a missing vamp when he could be anywhere?"

Suddenly switching from her usual flippant self to a purely business
manner,
Cordelia said "Okay, if I had this problem I'd call and ask my all
knowing
boss."

"Cordy, I'm _not_ all knowing," said a discouraged vampire. <If I was
there
are so many things I could've . . ., should've . . . .>

        "Not you Ego Boy.  My other boss.  The pay here sucked so I got a
second
job.  Actually, Libby approached me and asked if I wanted to help those
less
fortunate."

"Charity work?"

"Oh yah.  Most of the demons in this town desperately need a fashion
consultant.  I'll just go call her."

Angel just stared incredulously at his assistant, <demonic fashion
expert by
day, mild mannered *snicker* office worker by night>

"Kay.  She says that she'll help, but not until you bring Willow with
you."

"I don't know if Will can get away no such short notice.  Wait.  How
did she
know about Willow?"

"Don't even try to understand it.  She's already couriered a bus ticket
out
to Willow and she'll arrive at the bus stop at 8:00 PM.  Now I'm goin'
out
with Doyle.  Bye."

Before he could say good-bye, Cordelia left in a flurry of designer
clothes
and expensive perfume.  He walked up to the roof to sit and think.
Looking
out at the City of Angels he wondered if his childe really forgave him.

Sitting alone in the dark he heard music pouring out of a nearby
apartment.

Scar tissue that I wish you saw / Sarcastic mister know it all / Close
your
eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause / With the birds I'll share / With the
birds
I'll share / This lonely view / With the birds I'll share / This lonely
view
/ Push me up against the wall / Young Kentucky girl in a push-up bra /
Fallin' all over myself / To lick your heart and taste your health
'cause /
With the birds I'll share / This lonely view... //

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Willow got the last of her things into her backpack. <A definite
advantage
to magic, bags of infinite capacity.  Mary Poppins eat you heart out.>
Willow checked her collection of Disney videos <You can never be _too_
careful on the Hellmouth.> Looking at her ticket one more time she
assured
herself that she was doing the right thing.  Walking downstairs she
looked
right, then left, checking for any vamps, <not that they would attack.
I
haven't been attacked in so long.  He always steps in at the left
minute.>

Making her way to the bus station Willow paused and took a breath <he's

here>.  Before it used to be a faint presence, like a blue lightbulb in
a
darkroom.  But now she could smell him, feel him in her bones whenever
he
came close.

Swirling out of the darkness a man stepped out, "Hello, my child."

"Hello sir," replied Willow.

They began to walk to the bus station together, they wouldn't be
ambushed.
Nothing would dare.  Willow noticed something odd.  Originally she had
been
frightened of him, terrified of her job and the promise she made, but
now
she was resigned.  Felt no fear, <I feel nothing, no emotion.>

He spoke, his voice calm, serene, and maybe even caring, "I wanted to
ask
you how are your eyes?  I want you to know that I never knew that would

happen."

"They're still the same, the contacts help.  At least they hide it from
my
friends," she paused for a moment then continued, "It must really
bother
you."

"What?"

"Loss of control.  It disturbs me if I can't control what I believe are
the
constants."

"Hmm," he sighed and continued, changing the topic, "Unfortunately,
this
isn't only a social call.  If you are successful in saving William,
your
debt to me will be repaid."

Willow's outwardly calm appearance belied her mind. <To be free!  After

being bound for so long.  How nice.  Maybe my eyes will heal.> His
voice
broke through her thoughts, "Do you honestly hate me so much that
you'll
rejoice when our deal is done?"

<Is that hurt in his voice?> "No, I don't hate you, or what I do for
you.  I
loathe belonging to someone, being owned.  I hate debt."

They walked the rest of the way in silence.  The only noise that of her

shoes on the sidewalk and her quiet breathing.  If anyone saw them
walking
they would have thought that the two of them were related, possible
father
and daughter.  Maybe even lovers.  They moved at ease, both walking in
the
same rhythm.  Their physical distance was close, never touching each
other,
never needing to.

Arriving at the bus station he turned to her and spoke, one of the rare

times he used her name, "Willow, watch out.  Don't have a ‘devil may
care
attitude', because I really do care.  Stay well, I won't be able to
help you
much."

"Thank you," she didn't need to say any more.  The whole time they
worked
together she had _never_ thanked him.  "You take care as well.  Bye,
sir."

"Bye child."

She boarded the bus and took her seat.  Looking out the window she saw
he
was already gone.  The bus started on it's way.  She turned on her
walkman
and pressed play hoping that the music would drown out her feelings.
Still
looking out the window, but not really seeing anything Willow traveled
to
Los Angles.

Blood loss in a bathroom stall / Southern girl with a scarlet drawl /
Wave
good-bye to ma and pa 'cause / With the birds I'll share / With the
birds
I'll share / This lonely view / With the birds I'll share / This lonely
view
//

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Opening one eye, then the other, and finally both, Spike woke up.
Rolling
on his back he slowly stretched all of this muscles. <might as well
enjoy
what i've got left> In a parody of a normal life he showed, got dressed
and
went over to the window.  Opening the curtains he looked out at the
twilight.

"Time to go, I should be there tomorrow.  Well, at least I won't miss
them."
  No matter how many times he told himself that he'd be okay, there was
a
little voice that always countered with, "great, you'll be fine but
what
about how they feel?"

"Shut up!  I'm doing this for them," sinking down in a musty brown
chair
Spike sighed. <starting to sound as broody as Peaches.  she always
smelled
like peaches.>

Forcing himself to stand he walked out to his car and wondered who
would
take care of her. <who do you mean, the car or the girl?>  Getting in
he
started to drive east.  To try and fight off his melancholy he turned
on the
radio.  The end of one of his favourite songs was playing.

Soft spoken with a broken jaw / Step outside but not to brawl /
Autumn's
sweet we call it fall / I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl and
/
With the birds I'll share / This lonely view... /
Scar tissue that I wish you saw / Sarcastic mister know it all / Close
your
eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause / With the birds I'll share / With the
birds
I'll share / This lonely view / With the birds I'll share /
This lonely view... //

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So he sat alone wondering why he always seemed to stay still while the
world
rushed around him.

So she sat alone wondering why she always seemed to be running around
with
the world always spinning by her.

So he sat alone wondering why he always seemed to be moving fast and
the
world staying still.

<Lonely>
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter Four - Without Anything On Earth

Angel went to the train station and found Willow without any problems.
They
drove to the office and picked up Cordelia and Doyle.  After they had
gotten
settled in the car and were about to leave Angel turned around and
spoke,
"So Cordy, where exactly are we going?  It might help if I knew where
to
drive."

Giving the vampire her patented ‘are you really _that_ stupid look' she

replied, "First, we're going to drive to my house, so Willow can get
changed.  Can't have her being ‘the softer side of Sears' now can we?
Then
we're going to the industrial area,  to 6 Bonneta Dr.  It's a club
called
Heroine."  Finishing her speech Queen C turned to Willow and ignored
the two
males as she began animatedly talking about how she had helped save the

world on numerous occasions.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As soon as the car pulled into the driveway Willow was unceremoniously
pulled from the car and dragged into the house.  Meanwhile the two guys
sat
in the driveway waiting.  Doyle was calm and stretching out in the
passenger
seat.  However, Angel was fidgeting, his brain was working overtime
trying
to put all of the facts together into one logical situation.

"I hate this," said Angel as he slipped into ‘serious brood mode' (he
has
that patented from the same place the did Cordy's ‘are you really
_that_
stupid look').

"Hmm?  What was that?"

"I said I hate this.  I'm supposed to be the cool and unflappable one.
How
can you stay so calm?"

"It's actually very simple.  I'm not worried ‘cause I know what's gonna

happen," with a wink Doyle resumed his slouch, "ya might as well enjoy
the
rest we're getting now."

"You know!?  So why don't you tell me what's going one?"

"Love to.  But can't.  The PTB's said so.  Ya get to wait and be
surprised.
Either that or they don't know what's goin' on."

Before Angel could think his brain to a mush the two girls came out of
the
house.  Willow looked completely comfortable in a pair of black pants
and
maroon shirt.  <I like the shirt.  Red, no sleeves, high collar,
stretchy
material.  Very practical.  I hope I can keep it.>

<Odd.  I thought that Willow would be nervous wearing something like
that.
What's really going on?>

"Oh Lord of the Morose, we should get going now.  Hey Will, you like
that?
I used a big word, like _morose_."

With honest enthusiasm she replied, "Yeah Cordy.  I'm very proud."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cordelia lead them to an old building that looked like it was about to
fall
apart at any moment.

"If this is a club for demons it's the quietest one that I've ever
seen.  I
don't hear anything," said Angel as he looked around for potential
threats.

"You know," Cordelia looked over to Willow and Doyle, "I used to think
that
when he was quiet and broody he was thinking deep thoughts, and
processing
thousands of pieces of information.  Now I know that it's just a
cover,"
rolling her eyes she continued, "If you ran a club that catered to
demons
would you broadcast the fact to the general population?  Umm, let me
see?
_No._ She uses a sound dampening spell."

"That's my princess.  She wows ‘em all with her subtlety and tact."

They walked up to the front door and Cordelia knocked.  An average
looking
guy stepped outside looked at who they were and asked in a cheesy
gangster
accent, "Hey Delia, these two with you?  ‘Cause I think that the boss
wants
to see ‘em."

"John.  I hate to break it to you but, your acting is worse than mine.
And
that's saying a lot."

"Oh! I am wounded by your wit," still smiling sarcastically John let
them
in, "the Nerys is in her ususal spot."

Thanking the doorman Delia led the others to a table in the corner.
This
spot was slightly raised so that whoever sat there could have a better
view
of everything that was going on. <wow.  nice decor, dark but still
natural,
good music too.  wonder if there's other wiccans here?>  As they walked
up
to the table someone stood up and smiled.  Always being the tactician
Angel
began to tally up the odds of the situation, <she's shorter than me,
wearing
clothes that she can fight in, this is her club, in total  . . . don't
piss
her off>.  On the other hand Willow noticed the sane things but also
made
more personal observations <nice clothes, short spiky red hair, sitting
with
a guy at their table, the club is full of demons.  Oh shit, I hope they

don't recognize me.>

Turning to her guests she introduced herself, "Hello there, my name is
Bronwen Llewellyn.  Pleasure to meet you," motioning over to the other
person she spoke, "this is Nick, he's a friend of mine from Toronto."

Delia jumped in by saying "If you have trouble with her name I call her

Libby, it sounds a bit more modern."  Quickly grabbing Doyle she led
him
onto the dance floor.

"Thanks, D.  I'm sure that helped them.  Believe me it was fun growing
up
being called ‘Breadcrumb'.  Please sit down, we should talk," ever the
polite hostess she motioned for them to sit, "D. told me that you've
managed
to misplace a vampire, is this correct?"

"We haven't ‘misplaced' him.  He left," Angel didn't trust her in the
least.
  He didn't know her, or even what she was.  Bronwen thought about it,
then
looked up and rapidly asked Willow a question, "The vampire that you're

looking for is Spike, aka William the Bloody?

"Yes, he's been helping up in Sunnydale."

"Uck, Hellmouth.  Who was his sire?"

Looking subdued Angle answered her, "I was."

"He was your first childe?  Your favourite?"

"Yes."

She looked at Nick, who had been silent this whole time, "What are odds
this
is it?  Do you think that this is them?"

"Bronwen, <sigh> I think so.  It's a good thing isn't it?"

Everyone has limits.  Angel just reached his for patience, "Okay.  I've
been
lead around not knowing what's going on for over a day now.  I'm sick
and
tired of it.  Would someone please explain."

Willow rolled her eyes, Nick grinned, Bronwen sighed, and from the
depths of
the club  Cordy's voice was heard saying "Vampires!  No tolerance."

Looking at the vampire like a small child she explained, "Okay, the
long and
the short is the Prophecy of Hunters has started.  What I know is that
somehow Spike is involved.  He's gone to Toronto on the demands of the
PTB's
and is waiting for something.  Now this is not a problem . . . "

Jumping in before she could finish Angel countered with, "Not a
problem?
The slayer will be destroyed, and this is not a problem?"

"As I was saying, _boy_ this is not a problem because the PTB's can't
screw
up any further.  They honestly don't know the whole prophecy because
they
don't have a single copy, only rumors."

Willow digested this, she had vaguely read about his prophecy, "So,
what
should we do?  Are we supposed to stop Spike or help him?"

Looking relieved Bronwen answered, "Ah, an intelligent question.
Unfortunately my answer isn't very helpful.  From what I do know, the
both
of you should go to Toronto and meet Spike there.  Whatever happens
after
that happens.  C'est la vie."

"Fine.  Great.  How do you know all of this?"

Turning to Willow, Bronwen replied, "Cranky isn't he?  Well, I happen
to be
in possession of a highly useful book.  The only one with the whole
prophecy.  The reason I intend to help you both, is mostly because if
you
fail the usual foretold crap happens.  The world is overrun by fire and

brimstone, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  Very bad for business."

"How kind of you," the vampire was _not_ amused.  He thought that the
Nerys
was deliberately trying to piss him off, and well, he was right.  "If
you
don't mind Willow and I will just take the book and leave, right Will?"

Willow would have answered him except she was having a very nice chat
with
Nick.  She was learning all about ‘The Great White North', "Sure Angel.
 
Whatever."

"Normally, I'd have no problems.  However, I'm not giving the book to
you.
I'm giving it the witch.  So I'd better explain it to her.  Now why
don't
you and Nick go have a nice lil' ol' talk somewhere else?"

He didn't want to leave Willow alone with Bronwen, but it seemed that
if
they wanted the book he didn't have any other options.  Standing he
walked
over to another table.  Nick followed him, but not before he got the
Nerys'
instructions, "Go easy on him, he's just a young'n."

"He's young?  No offence, but I thought that 250 was pretty old," the
curious red head asked.

"Nick's a bit older.  He's pushing 800, " before Willow's shock could
wear
off Bronwen continued, "The book that I'm giving you is very important.
 
It's the only one of it's kind.  The reason that it's so rare is that
the
prophecies, at least for the most part, make sense."  The Nerys reached
over
beside her and pulled out a hardcover copy of Terry Pratchett's Good
Omens.

With one eyebrow raised Willow asked, "The Nice and Accurate Prophecies
of
Agnes Nutter?"

"What?!  I'm not allowed to have a sense of humour?  It's just the dust

jacket, now open it up."

"The pages are blank?  That's not overly helpful," Willow was beginning
to
wonder what she got herself into.

"See.  I told you that it needed instructions.  It's a sentient book,
you
have to think about what you want to know.  Then the book will tell you
what
you _need_ to know.  It's kinda like a Magic Eight Ball, go for it, as
a
question."

"Okay, will Xander and the rest of the Scooby Gang be able to help
me?," she
opened the book and read aloud the passage that appeared, " The Angel
that
presided o'er my birth / Said `Little creature, form'd of joy and
mirth, /
Go, love without the help of anything on earth. "

"Sorry kid, looks like your help will be solely supernatural," replied
Bronwen with a shrug.

"I thought you said that this book was the Idiot's Guide to Prophetic
Sayings.  It's still kinda cryptic."  Willow was still worried about
what
was going to happen.

"It's the best that you're going to get.  You slowly get to clue in to
what
it's talking about.  It's how I knew that you were coming," pausing to
let
the teenager to absorb this, she continued, "Also, two other things you

should be aware of, first, I have a flight leaving for Toronto in five
hours.  If you stay in the cargo there'll be no sunlight.  Second, you
might
want to ask the book about permanently anchoring a soul, you might get
some
help there."

"You mean, I could do that?  Make his soul permanent?"

"You have a shot at it.  I honestly don't know what could happen, but
whatever does happen it's supposed to," giving Willow a smile Bronwen
handed
her another envelope, "Here are your tickets, Nick's friend Natalie
will
pick you up.  I have a club near the Harbourfront, you can stay
upstairs.
The bouncer will recognize you."

"Thank you very much."

"Not a worry, and good luck.  You'd better go rescue that vampire of
yours,
Nick's probably boring him to death with stories of how hard it is to
try
and be human."

"Oh no.  Not another brooding vampire?"

"Yup, ‘fraid so."

Willow got up and walked over to where the two immortals were sitting.
She
smiled sweetly and politely interrupted, "Excuse me, but we both have
to
leave to catch a flight.  It's been a pleasure meeting you and I hope
that
someday I see you again."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Angel made his goodbyes as well and they both left.  He asked what had
Bronwen had told her about and she carefully avoided certain topics,
like
souls.  She did mention when the flight was leaving and where they
should
go.  Delia and Doyle made their own way home and promised to take care
of
the office while Angel was gone.  On the drive to the airport both
Angel and
Willow were lost in thought.  Willow wondered, <Can I really perform
the
spell?  When should I try?  What is the Prophecy of Hunters?> While
Angel's
thoughts ran along a different vein, <Stupid childe getting himself
involved
in the Prophecy of Hunters.  I hope he's not the one, I don't want to
kill
him, _much_.>

Elsewhere, in another time zone, Spike waited to find those he had been
sent
to kill.  Unfortunately, for him it was most likely a suicide mission.

After all, how was one vampire supposed to fight the greatest Hunters?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -