TITLE: Demons
AUTHOR: Head Rush
PAIRING: None
RATING: PG-13
EMAIL: head_rush100@yahoo.co.uk
SUMMARY: When it all started to go downhill for Willow and her magicks. Set back around season 2
SPOILERS: None
FEEDBACK: Always welcome, but this was the first fic I ever wrote, so please be gentle J
ARCHIVES: Sure, but please email me first so I know where it’s going J
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, etc. This was written for fun, not profit, so please don’t sue.

Something was pounding on the door. As a Watcher with over twenty years’ experience, Rupert Giles was accustomed to being rudely awoken at ungodly hours, but had never quite managed to embrace the involuntary clenching in his gut that inevitably followed close upon the heels of an abrupt return to consciousness. Giles recognized that the fight-or-flight response was a natural, even desirable, accompaniment to awakening confused; never knowing what he might find running, flapping, or lurching towards him in an advanced state of malicious intent, but that didn’t make it any easier. He groaned, pulled himself upright on the sofa, and hardly noticed when ‘Idris Marlowe’s Mega-Daemonomicon’ slid off his lap and thudded onto his right foot. The pounding continued, and there was yelling now, too. More alert, Giles relaxed somewhat as he picked up a stake and went to unbolt the front door. There was only one person who could rattle door hinges like this.

“Buffy –”

Giles was shoved aside as Buffy and Xander propelled Willow into the apartment between them. The left sleeve of her sweater was torn and bloodstained. Xander limped over to the sofa and sat Willow down. She inspected herself and moaned.

“Ooh, I *liked* this sweater!”

Xander regarded her sympathetically.

Giles turned to Buffy. He wiped his glasses, put them on, and squinted at her.

“What happened?”

“Good question. We were patrolling the Restfield Cemetery when a bunch of vamps jumped us. Some kind of demon was with them; about seven feet tall, curled horns, scaly skin.” She took a breath, looking puzzled. “But he didn’t fight. He just watched, like he was taking notes or something. I hope there’s not a pop quiz coming up.”

From the sofa, Buffy and Giles heard Willow protesting to Xander in a loud whisper.

“It’s *o-kay*, Xander, I can go home, we don’t need to bother Giles.”

“It’s no bother, Willow, I assure you,” soothed Giles as he went to fetch the first aid kit from the bathroom.

Buffy followed him down the hall and lowered her voice a little. “Giles, the weird thing was, those vamps weren’t interested in fighting me at all, like *at all*. They just kept going and going after Will like the Energizer bunny. It was as if I wasn’t even there. I’m the Slayer: if anyone’s going to get picked to play, it should be me.” She cast a worried glance in her friend’s direction. “Not Will.”

“Jealous!” Xander called out, taking a crossbow from Giles’s weapons chest.

Buffy rolled her eyes, and went on, “I just don’t get it. Will obviously wasn’t a threat to them in the way that I was, but they definitely singled her out for special attention. I think she’s pretty freaked.”

She hesitated and lowered her voice further. “I can’t believe I let them get to her. They were too fast, too determined. It was like they were testing me. Or her...” she trailed off, then declared, “So I’m in Avenger mode. Xander and I are going back to the cemetery to see if we can go a few more rounds with them, maybe find out what’s the deal.”

Buffy paused a moment, looked back to the living room, and into the kitchen. “Where *is* Xander, anyway?”

Giles emerged from the bathroom with a large first aid kit in one hand and a bottle of antiseptic in the other.

“I rather suspect that after what’s happened to Willow, Xander may have gone to start without you. You’d better go and see if you can catch him before anything else does.”

Buffy cast a final look in Willow’s direction, and gave Giles a worried smile.

“We’ll be back soon,” she said, and slammed the door shut behind her.

Giles bolted it and went over to Willow. He perched in front of her on the coffee table and studied her with concern. She looked scared out of her mind.

“How’re you doing, Willow?” he asked.

“Oh, okay.” She managed a smile. “Don’t worry, Giles. It’s no big deal. In fact, I feel much better now. I think I’ll... I’ll just go home and hit the hay.” She stood up.

“I’m okay,” she said, as much to herself as to Giles. Then Willow realized that her legs weren’t as support-y as they usually were, and with great reluctance, she sank back down on the sofa.

“I’m okay.”

“So you keep saying.” He didn’t look convinced. “Let’s have a look at your arm.”

He reached over, gently took her wrist, and started to push back her ragged sweater sleeve, then glanced up in surprise as she yanked her arm out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt – ” he began.

“Uh, no, it’s just...” she hesitated, searching for a plausible reason to refuse his help. Her arm *did* look pretty mangled. Willow auditioned a number of potential excuses, but didn’t cast one. She recognised the look Giles was giving her. He knew something was up, and he wasn’t going to be deterred that easily.

****

“Xander?”

Stalking cautiously through the Restfield Cemetery, Buffy was tired, worried, and in no mood to play hunt-the-Xander. She heard a rustle, reached behind the pillar of the nearest crypt, and hauled Spike out into the moonlight at stakepoint.

“Hey! Watch the smokes!”

“I should have known it was you,” said Buffy.

“Well, who the bloody hell else would be lurking around here at this time of night, all innocent-like, and lacking in grrr? I said, watch the smokes!”

“Spike... ” Buffy stopped herself. If she wanted to get anything out of him she had to go the diplomatic route... at least, at first.

“What’s the matter, Slayer? You seem a bit on edge.” Spike lifted a hand and shifted Mr. Pointy’s aim away from his heart.

“There’s a new kid in town. Nasty. It was hanging out with some vampires. They hurt Willow, and now Xander’s missing. Anything you feel like sharing?” She twirled Mr. Pointy between her fingers.

“Not particularly.”

“Not even for the price of a Big Gulp brimming with chilled O/Neg?” Buffy wrenched a handful of bills from her pocket. Spike took the money, then leered at her.

“Actually, I’m not short of cash at the moment.” He took a step towards her, so that she was trapped in the doorway. “But I might give you something to ponder if you’d care to show your appreciation some other way.”

Spike’s hands slid round Buffy’s waist and into the back pockets of her jeans, then squeezed ever so slightly. She pushed him away with an expression of profound disgust, and he rebounded off the side of the crypt with a grunt.

“Talk now,” said Buffy.

Spike straightened his duster and recovered his composure. “Well, sugar, if I were you I’d keep an eye on the teenage witch. She’s become just powerful enough to get somebody killed, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed in certain quarters.”

It was Buffy’s turn to pin Spike against the wall.

****

In the kitchen, Giles made two cups of sweet tea and poured a nip of brandy into one. He went back into the living room and handed it to Willow. She took a sip and made a face.

“Eew. How can you drink this stuff? It tastes like medicine!”

She handed it back to Giles. At least he had shifted from E.R. mode to tea mode, and had let her arm alone. She just wanted to get home and ransack her bookshelves to see if there was a spell to undo the one she’d done that afternoon. Her eyes wandered back to the Watcher and suddenly she felt very guilty again.

“All right, Willow, let me see your arm,” said Giles. It wasn’t a request.

Willow froze for a moment, then gingerly pushed up her sleeve. The weird burn was still there. It stood out clearly among the lacerations on her forearm. Giles stared at it.

“This didn’t happen when you were patrolling with Buffy,” he said.

“No.”

“You did receive the other injuries just now, but this mark was there before, wasn’t it?” said Giles.

“Yes.” Oh God, he was going to be so mad.

“Do you know what it is?”

“No... ” she ventured.

Giles cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Yes... well, kind of. Not really.” Willow shifted uncomfortably. He must think she was such an idiot. “I got it doing a spell this afternoon.”

“What kind of spell?”

“To open a dimensional portal and summon a spirit guide to teach me how to do some more powerful magick.”

Giles’s eyes were getting wider. That was not a good sign. He stood up. “And what happened when you performed this spell?”

“I made the portal open. It was really cool, all bright lights and whooshing noises. Then a demon came through. It happened so fast... I couldn’t think of a binding spell in time. It knocked me aside and gave me the burn, then took off.”

“Was it the same demon that you saw in the cemetery just now?”

“I think so.” Willow squirmed as Giles’s eyes fixed on her. Here it comes, she thought.

He stood in front of her. “Where did you find this summoning spell? Certainly not in any of the books I’ve lent you. There’s a *reason*that I haven’t taught you more advanced magick yet, Willow. You’re not ready for those kinds of spells. I would *never* give a student anything so dangerous!”

“It was… ” she winced, “in the slayer’s handbook. I’m really sorry, Giles. I swear, I’ll never, ever, do it again.”

“No one other than Slayers and their Watchers are supposed to read or use that book, and as you well know, I’ve never even shown it to Buffy.” Giles sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I know.”

“And you took it anyway,” said Giles, sitting back down. “Willow, you must know by now that there’s no such thing as a... a free spell. When you open a gateway to other dimensions, *anything* could come through. You could have been killed.”

He indicated the burn on her forearm. “That mark is like a brand. It identifies you as the Slayer, because no one but the Slayer should have had access to the spell you did today.”

Willow started shaking. “That’s why the vampires were coming after me, instead of Buffy?”

Giles nodded slowly. “I believe so.”

Willow was sure the Watcher’s rage-o-meter was heading for the red zone, but it was the worry and disappointment in his eyes that really got to her.

“Giles, I’m so sorry – ” she started.

His head snapped up and his eyes bored into her.

“You bloody well should be! You stole a secret book, used it without skill or supervision, and now God only knows what you’ve unleashed, or what danger you’ve put us all in, or how – ”

Suddenly, Buffy’s voice broke in.

“She didn’t mean for this to happen, Giles.” Buffy shut the door behind her.

Registering the acute misery on Willow’s face, Giles backed off immediately. “I know. Forgive me, Willow. We all make mistakes... Although, this was quite a big one.”

He picked up the bottle of antiseptic and started cleaning up the wounds on her arm, while Buffy left a message on Xander’s answering machine for him to call as soon as he got home.

****

Xander woke with a mighty headache. He opened his eyes and saw... nothing. It was pitch black, and smelled so rank he could barely breathe without gagging. He was lying on a stone floor. The place was chilly and damp, like his parents’ basement, but even less welcoming. Xander tentatively put his hand to his forehead. It was wet, but with blood or water, he couldn’t tell. He tried to fight down a rising urge to scream for help, but failed. His cry was cut short as one large claw gripped him by the neck.

“And I thought nothing I could do this evening would be worse than going to Uncle Rory’s taxidermy fair,” croaked Xander.

“Silence,” said the demon.

****

“So this thing thinks Will’s the Slayer instead of me,” said Buffy. “Well, next time I’ll be ready for them, and a strategic ass kicking should clear up the confusion, right?”

“I’m afraid it may not be quite that simple,” said Giles. “I’ll have to do some more research, but I suspect that we may be dealing with a Shoshida demon, named after the first warlock to be killed by its kind...” he broke off. “Oh, ah, sorry, Willow. It’s powerful and tenacious – likes nothing better than creating chaos in other realms. It hunts for sport as well as food and ritual, so prefers a worthy opponent; hence its marking of the one whom it believes to be the greatest warrior, which in the case of human beings will be the Slayer.”

“But I’m not a worthy opponent,” said Willow quietly.

Giles and Buffy exchanged a quick, uneasy glance.

****

Curled up under a blanket on Giles’s sofa, Willow looked around the darkened living room. She tried to take comfort in its familiarity, from Giles’s green coffee mug to the feng-shui windchime she had given him as a birthday present the year before. It didn’t help. Thinking about Giles just made her feel guilty all over again. Even more than the Shoshida demon, Willow was afraid of herself, of her growing understanding of what she had the potential to do, to become. Her magickal abilities were not as underdeveloped as Giles presumed, and she was coming to realise that the more difficult a spell was to do, to control, the more she wanted to try it. The greater a spell’s risk to the performer, the greater the rush when it worked. Willow was starting to crave that rush more frequently and more intensely. She had never in her life felt... powerful… before she began learning the dark arts. She liked that feeling. A lot. Even Buffy couldn’t have done what she did today – she was strong, but she didn’t do magick. Not like this.

In the armchair, Buffy stirred and poked Willow with her foot. “Will? Are you okay?”

Willow nodded. “Just a little too freaked to sleep. I wish Xander would call.”

She longed to share these new feelings and experiences with her best friend, but was afraid that Buffy would tell Giles, and he’d never let her near his magick books again – if he even would now, after what she’d done. He might stop teaching her altogether. Willow turned over, jarring her bad arm painfully. Taking the Slayer’s Handbook today was the first time that she had done anything seriously underhanded in the pursuit of her magickal studies. She felt terrible about sneaking around behind Giles’s back, but the temptation had been just too great. She’d already resolved not to resort to such tactics again, even though she had copied some of the Handbook’s more interesting spells out by hand into her own spell book. As Willow promised herself that she would tear up those pages, the phone rang. She prayed it was Xander.

From his bed in the loft, Giles fumbled for the phone.

“Hello?”

Downstairs on the sofa, Willow heard the tension and defensiveness creeping into his voice.

“No, it wasn’t Buffy, it was one of her friends... I don’t know, the book was in a secure place, and I never imagined anyone would go looking for it....”

Willow heard Giles sigh, and the conversation went on at length before Giles ended it, saying, “Well, Quentin, the Council just needs to calm down. I’ll sort this out... Well, now of course. No, don’t send anyone. I’ll take care of it...” There was a pause. “Yes, I’m aware that I’m replaceable. But not tonight. Goodbye.”

Willow jumped as the phone was jammed back on the hook. Now Giles was in trouble with the Watcher’s Council. Huddled on the sofa, wracked with guilt, Willow heard Giles get out of bed and begin to pace.

****

The next morning, Willow was fighting off axe-wielding giant frogs. One of them was shaking her, and then it turned into Giles. “Go! Go! The tadpoles are coming!” She blinked. Giles handed her a cup of tea.

“When you’ve quite finished fighting the tadpoles, get yourself together and meet me at the library. Your training starts now.”

“Training?”

“Slayer training. You don’t have to be perfect - just better than your opponent.”

“The crazed, crossword-solving, Slayer-hunting opponent?”

“That’s the one.” He smiled encouragingly. “We have a lot of work to do.”

****

Spike dozed peacefully on the lid of Alpert’s sarcophagus. His boots were smouldering, starting to smoke. His eyes snapped open. He sniffed the air, looked down, and watched his left foot burst into flame.

“Shit! Shi…” he gasped, as he yanked off his boot and hurled it into a corner. He sat there for a moment, uncomprehending, until his gaze fell on Buffy standing at the entrance to the crypt. She was holding the door just so, to allow a strategic sliver of sunlight to cut across the lower part of his bed.

“Good morning, Spike.”

“What the hell was that for?” he demanded, advancing on her.

“Last night you claimed that the Shoshida demon Willow summoned had asked you to help it kill her.”

“Yeah. What of it?” Spike wobbled as he balanced on one leg.

“So I think you said yes.”           

Spike managed to look both wounded and insincere. “Would I do that? Seems like Red’s perfectly capable of getting herself killed without any help from me.”

“You’d do it for fun, Spike. You’d do it to get at me, and you’d do it for whatever lame reward the demon’s putting up. Will hasn’t done anything to you. You do everything in your power to keep it away from her, or you’ll have me to deal with.”

Spike cracked a smile. “Promise?”

****

In the library at Sunnydale High, Giles had set up a training area for Willow. He had removed his glasses and put on some protective gear, more for the benefit of Willow’s ego than for any practical purpose.

“Right. Now try and hit me,” he ordered.

Tentatively, Willow made a fist and drew it back.

“Stop!” said Giles.

“What?”

Giles pointed to Willow’s fist. “First rule of fighting. Your thumb goes on the outside, like this,” he demonstrated. “Or you’re likely to break it. Try again. Thumb on the outside.”

Three hours later, Willow sank into a chair, exhausted.

“Giles, I appreciate what you’re doing, but this is never, ever, going to work. I’m not strong enough, and just thinking about meeting the demon again... let alone fighting it... makes my stomach go all floopy.” Then, quietly, she said, “The only way I stand a chance with this thing is by using magick. Can’t you teach me some demon-killing spells?”

Giles focused on her intensely. “Absolutely not. Especially after your performance yesterday. There’s no way you’d be able to harness or control the level of power that would be necessary to bind that demon, let alone destroy it or send it back where it came from.”

As Giles spoke, Willow could feel hot resentment building. It crept up her neck and filled her mind, blocking out Giles’s case for caution. He thought she was a weak, timid kid who needed other people to clean up the idiotic mess she’d made. Giles rested his hand on her shoulder.

“I mean it, Willow. For you to work magick of that complexity would be far too dangerous – more likely to backfire on you than to do much damage to your opponent. You’ve no idea what you’ve been playing with, or how far you have to go.”

Playing?

Giles kept on, “Promise me that you won’t try anything without my supervision. We’ll find a way to fight this thing without putting you at risk unneccessarily. All you have to do is be able to hold the demon off until Buffy and I can contain it.”

As Willow opened her mouth to protest, Giles cut her off.

“Don’t argue. Give me your word, Willow. No more spells for the time being. For your own safety.”

“Fine,” she said. “You have my word.”

****

That evening, Willow sat on her bedroom floor. She looked at the handmade spellbook on her desk, determined not to open it. She thought about her promise to Giles. She really didn’t want to disappoint – or upset – him again, but he was being unreasonable. What was she going to do if… when… the demon came back? Take a swing at it with her tiny fist? Hit it with her laptop? Magick was the only means of defense she had, and it wasn’t fair that Giles should play Mr. Authority Figure and order her not to use it. He was Buffy’s Watcher, not hers. *Immature much?* she chastised herself. Deep down, Willow knew Giles was right. She really didn’t know enough about the dark arts to reliably put them into practice, and she should leave the demon slayage to the expert – if that was going to be an option this time.

Willow’s window frame shattered as the demon burst into her bedroom, showering her with glass and splinters. She didn’t even have time to scream. Willow scooted back into a corner, grabbed her coat rack, and swung it at the demon with all the strength she possessed. It snapped in half. And made the demon angry. Instinctively, Willow grabbed the spellbook from her desk. She flipped through it until she came to a charm for protection.

“G-goddess, hear me,” she began, as she edged toward the door. “*Toris sintone vincitim.* Let no evil touch me.” The demon slashed at her with razor sharp claws, but Willow felt nothing as they passed through her arm and out the other side without so much as a scratch.

“Whoa!” she breathed, momentarily impressed with herself. The demon growled and made another unsuccessful swipe as Willow bolted past it and out the door, happier than ever that her parents had gone away for the week.

She ran, and didn’t look back until she reached Buffy’s house. From the porch, she had a great view as the demon abruptly changed direction and took off down a side street. As shaken as she was, Willow couldn’t help but feel proud that she’d managed to cast the protection spell under such stressful conditions. She felt almost drunk with... something. Pride? No... Power. This was what real power felt like. It was really, really good not to have to rely on anyone else to do her fighting for her.

“Yeah, you’d *better*run!” she yelled after it.

“Oh yeah, you’re a mighty bad-ass witch, all right,” came a voice from behind the bushes.

Willow stifled a yelp and spun around. “Spike! What’re you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing. Let’s just say I’m curious as to why you were belting down the street with a demon after you. Or it was, till someone gave it a taste of the old ultra-violence.” Spike ran a finger absently over his knuckles.

Willow replayed the demon’s abrupt exit in her head. Yeah, Spike’s explanation made more sense.

“That’s none of your business. I obviously didn’t come to Buffy’s house to talk to you.”

“Slayer’s out. Want to go get the Watcher?” Spike offered.

“No!” said Willow, too emphatically.

Spike smiled, cocking his head. “Been up to something and don’t want daddy to find out, eh? Tell Spike all about it. Maybe I’ll tell you something in return.”

Willow told him. Spike laughed.

“Giles underestimates you. Tell you what. If you wanna get Xander back –”

Willow cut him off. “What? What do you mean, ‘get him back’? Where is he?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? Demon’s got him stashed in the sewer,” said Spike. He was enjoying the conversation immensely. “Needless to say, the lad’s no great prize, but Shoshida demons aren’t afraid to scrape the bottom of the bait bucket.”

“Bait?” echoed Willow.

“Well, the Slayer – that’ll be you – will inevitably toddle along to rescue the little git. Then, of course, the plan is to kill you.”

Willow felt all goosebumpy again. She leaned against the wall. “Sure. What else would a demon want to do with me?” she paused. “Oh. Oh! Ugh.”

“You’re the one who’s made Xander a victim of more than just fashion, Red. What’re you gonna do about it?” Spike lit a foul-smelling cigarette. “Something tells me he’s going to be horribly killed in a few days anyway, as part of the demon’s ritual to open the Hellmouth and party with his pals. Thirty-one flavors of chaos, no waiting.”

Willow stared at Spike in open-mouthed horror as the full realisation of what she’d done washed over her. This was immediately followed by yet more guilt; this time for what she’d done to the guy she’d loved since the age of five.

“Oh my God. I have to get him out of there. I have to fix this!” She looked at Spike. “How am I gonna fix this?”

“Better get Buffy, or there won’t be enough left of you and the boy wonder to bury,” said Spike. “Unless…” he paused thoughtfully.

“What?” said Willow. “Spike! What?”

“Maybe I could help you out this once… No... On second thought, it’s gonna be a hell of a lot more fun watching you lot do it.” He turned and left Willow alone on the porch, feeling sicker than ever.

****

“Will? Are you all right? I just went by your house and your bedroom window was all smashed in! The rest of the house is trashed. Your mom’s gonna have a cow.” said Buffy, half an hour later.

Willow took a deep breath. “Okay. Buffy, I have something to tell you. We... I mean, I... have a big problem.”

Over the next hour, while clinging to an untouched cappuccino at the Espresso Pump, Willow told Buffy everything, finishing with “And you have to let me confront the demon myself. It won’t work otherwise. If you pretend to be me... um... instead of me pretending to be you... the demon will know somehow, and that would be bad for everybody. Besides, it’s all my fault, so I should be the one to deal with it. Behold my resolve face.” She took a shaky breath, looking deeply unhappy as only Willow could.

“Okay, Will. If that’s how you want it, I’ll back you up,” said Buffy, frowning.

Willow hoped Buffy wasn’t just humoring her, while really planning to jump in at the first sign of trouble, as she usually did. She couldn’t stand it if she caused any more of her friends to be hurt or killed because of one stupid thing she’d done – let alone unleash chaos on their reality. Sorry, Giles, she thought. I have to do this my way if I’m gonna stand any chance at all. It’s for a good cause. Willow said good night to Buffy and went home to read up on the most potent spells that she had copied from the Slayer’s Handbook. Then she snuck into the library and took as many of the forbidden magick books from the top of Giles’s book cabinet as she could carry.

Over the next few days, Willow conjured much more difficult and obscure magicks than she had ever thought possible without being a real, grown-up witch. The really dark spells had side effects when they were performed; her pupils would dilate, her head ached, her nose bled, her ears rang, her vision went blurry, or her fingernails turned black. With every spell, she felt painfully wired for a while, then incredibly drained, physically and emotionally. But she kept going, because Xander’s life depended on it. Not to mention the fate of the world. Don’t even think about that. But there were other, less comfortable factors at work.

When Willow conjured, everything else just... went away. All the fear, guilt, and embarrassment of the last few days, and of her life in general, just disappeared as she focused all her concentration on manipulating mystical energies to create powerful magicks that actually worked. She was in a place where there were no rules, no boundaries, and no Watchers standing in the way. Even the ever-present voice of Sensible Willow was silenced for once. All of this felt good... no... it felt *great*, and she pushed herself to continue long past the point when her body and mind were exhausted, screaming at her to stop. Sometimes the mystical energies flowed through her so easily, it felt like she was drifting with a powerful current, simply making minor adjustments to the currents. Then the hardest part was hiding her resentment and impatience from Giles as he tried to teach her self-defence techniques and spells of an insultingly amateurish level. She couldn’t understand why conjuring magicks dark enough to have such gruesome effects made her feel so good, nor how she had managed to improve so much in just a few days.

Willow didn’t respond to Buffy and Giles’ queries as to why she seemed to be avoiding them, and resisted their attempts to meet with her to teach her what they thought she needed to know to impersonate a Slayer. She screened their calls, and didn’t answer the door when they came to her house. She almost wished the Shoshida demon would be around for a while longer so that she’d have an excuse to keep conjuring at this level of intensity. Before, she had been scared of everything. Now she really, really wasn’t afraid of anything.

****

The next morning, Willow and Buffy sat at the study table in the library while Giles read out, “According to the Codex Infierno, tonight’s the night that, following a blood sacrifice, the Hellmouth can be opened from the inside, as long as there’s a demon on the outside of the portal to maintain the flow of energy between the two dimensions – which is what our chap will be concerned with,” he said, thumbing rapidly through a battered volume with rusty clasps. “It will be our only chance to catch him when he’s distracted. We must be ready to go before sundown.”

Buffy nodded. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” she began.

Willow stood up. “Don’t tell me what to do, Buffy. I’m not your sidekick this time. *You* follow *my* lead, understand?”

Momentarily speechless, Buffy glanced at Giles, who was staring at Willow with an expression of extreme befuddlement and rising annoyance.

“Willow,” Giles began softly. She ignored him.

“I’ll be leaving at five. Buffy, you’ll come and back me up with the vampires, but leave the demon to me. Giles, you’ll be most useful if you stay here and perform the counter-ritual. Maybe we can keep the Hellmouth from opening in the first place.”

Willow put her hand to her temple and tried to massage away the ever-present headache.

“That’s how I’ll be most useful, is it?” said Giles. “We’ll see about that. And for future reference, Willow, I don’t respond well to being ordered around.”

“Well, welcome to *my* world,” said Willow.

****

Willow had planned to spend the afternoon in front of the tv, conserving her energy for sundown. Instead, the anticipation made her feel so electric, so energized, that she worked on casting stronger and darker spells than ever. It was as if the part of her that remembered the way she had been before summoning the demon was trapped inside a small box in her mind, while her new, confident self romped around unchecked. She lost track of time and practiced for hours on end without a break, until she felt so ill and dizzy that she actually contemplated calling Buffy.

When Willow finally staggered back in to the library late that afternoon, she irritably dismissed Giles and Buffy’s concerned enquiries. She had neither time nor inclination to indulge any of her usual forms of weakness. When Willow went to the bathroom to splash some water on her face, Buffy and Giles seized the opportunity to speak freely.

“Okay, who was that obnoxious mutant, and what has she done with Willow?”

“She’s been abusing the magicks,” said Giles. “I should’ve known a telling off wouldn’t be enough to stop her once she got beyond a certain point. It never did me. I just pushed her to become more secretive. If I’d insisted that she come in for those training sessions I would have seen this coming. I should have anyway. I could’ve prevented this.”

Buffy shook her head. “Oh my God. Giles! What are we going to do about this?”

Giles looked away. “There’s nothing we *can* do right now. The demon has to be stopped immediately, and if I take Willow’s power from her, she’ll lose whatever psychological advantage she’ll have when she faces him… Although a false sense of confidence is as likely to prove… disastrous… as a lack of it.” He took off his glasses and began cleaning them vigorously.

“I’ll stick close by her and do all I can, but I think Will’s right,” said Buffy. “She’s got the demon’s mark. As soon as he senses it, he’ll go after her. I couldn’t protect her before, and I don’t think I’ll be able to now... Especially as she’s obviously got delusions of grandeur happening all over the place. She’s not just looking to win... she’s asking for trouble.”

“I don’t need your protection, Buffy.”

Willow stood in the doorway holding one of Giles's good crossbows in one hand, and a sword with a serrated blade in the other. “If anything happens to me, I will have brought it on myself. But it won’t. I’m unstoppable tonight. Just stay out of my way.” She turned and left.

“Oh yeah, what could possibly go wrong with *this* plan?” said Buffy as she picked up Giles’s weapons bag and headed for the door.

****

Willow and Buffy walked to the park in silence. When they came to the manhole cover that led down into the Sunnydale sewer system, they found that it was glowing white with heat. The air around it shimmered in the fading light. Buffy took a short axe from the weapons bag and used it to pry the cover off. A blast of hot, fetid air assaulted their nostrils. Buffy looked at Willow.

“Feels like the Hellmouth’s getting ready to open. You up for this?”

“Can’t wait.” There was no irony in her response.

They picked their way carefully through the foul-smelling labyrinth, prompting Buffy to start relating Giles’s story about Theseus and the minotaur, but Willow silenced her with a glare. Before long, the tunnel grew warmer, fouler, more oppressive. There was a murmuring in the distance. They followed the sound of discordant chanting as it rose and fell in cacophonous waves, until they came to a place where the tunnel wall had caved in, opening up into a large, torch-lit antechamber hewn from the rocky soil. There was a large, ugly gash in the middle of the chamber floor. A crowd of vampires had gathered around it. The creatures swayed hypnotically as they performed the ritual to open the Hellmouth. The demon stood in front of them, directing operations, ready to maintain the flow of energy between the dimensions the moment the portal opened. As they rocked and wailed, a sulphurous, oily smoke spewed up from below in sickly colors. A rumbling and screaming came from deep within.

“It’s like the sound a hurricane makes while you hide in the basement,” said Buffy. Then she spotted Xander slumped in a cage set against the wall. His eyes were closed. He was hugging himself, but still he shook. Willow saw him too.

“He’s your number one priority. Get him and get out.”

“You know, Will? Not so down with the order-taking either. Let’s not forget who the actual Slayer is, okay?”

Buffy flattened her back against the wall and began to edge down into the chamber, praying that the vampires were too intent on their ritual to check behind them.

Then the vile smoke emanating from the Hellmouth began to thin, and turned a clear, almost cheerful, shade of blue. Troubled, the vampires wavered in their incantation. Willow allowed herself a small smile. Giles must be performing the counter-ritual right now, interrupting the flow of dark magicks.

****

Back in the library, Giles stirred the counter-ritual ingredients one last time. If the spell was going to start working, it would have done so by now. He couldn’t be of any more use here. He picked up a crossbow and pelted for the door. As Giles tore through it he realised – too late – that Spike had been on the other side, about to come in. Now Spike was on the other side of the hall, slumped down against the lockers, holding his head and groaning.

“Bloody hell!”

“Spike! What are you doing here?”

“C-came to tell you Slayer’s in hot water.”

“You amaze me. Well, where are they, then?”

“What’ll you give me?”

“A stake through the heart.” Giles fitted a sliver of wood in the nock and levelled the crossbow at Spike’s chest.

The vampire was surprised to find that looking Giles in the eye was a disconcerting experience just now. There was something in the Watcher’s expression that he hadn’t seen before. The constant burden of protectiveness was manifested in a controlled and focused anger. Spike liked this new Rupert Giles. He wanted to see what he could do.

****

Back in the demon’s lair, Buffy slowly circumnavigated the back wall. She never took her eyes off Willow, who was weaving her way through the crowd of vampires. The Shoshida demon had been hunkered down, examining the tendrils of blue smoke curling up from the Hellmouth, but when Willow approached, it stood, turned, and glowered down at her.

“We meet again,” he said nastily. “I’ve so looked forward to this moment… You pathetic, foolish child.”

“Are you ready to play, cliché guy?” said Willow.

She raised the crossbow, aimed for the demon’s heart, and pulled the trigger. It was a good shot. The vampires gasped as their leader stumbled back a few paces and jerked the bolt from his chest with a wet, sucking sound. The wound closed as soon as the bolt was free. As the vampires advanced on Willow, the demon motioned them to back down.

“That’s a good trick,” said Willow, unfazed.

She raised the crossbow and fired again. As the demon was distracted by the impact, Willow drew her sword and began a mighty upswing at its head. It caught her arm before she could make contact, twisted it, and pinned her against a rock.

“Now, see, I never would have let that happen,” said Buffy, engaged in burning the vampires at the back of the room with holy water shot from a high-powered water pistol.

  “I was afraid of this,” said a voice beside her.

“Giles!” Buffy had never been so glad to see him.

“Not much of a Slayer, are you?” the demon hissed at Willow. “In fact, I’m not so very sure that you’re a Slayer at all. However, you’ve served your purpose, and for that you shall be rewarded with a relatively painless death. You may even awake to find yourself immortal.” Its mouth twisted into a grin, revealing a mouthful of rotten fangs. Its gaze swept the room, invading every corner.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “It knows. Spike lied to Will. He used her guilt to get her to come here, knowing I wouldn’t let her do it alone. He is so going to pay for this.”

As Buffy started toward the crowd, Giles grabbed her arm.

“Buffy, stop.”

“Giles, I have to –”

“No. It may be bluffing. If you burst in now, it’ll startle the demon and he’ll likely as not throw her to the vampires before starting with you. We have no choice but to follow Willow’s lead. Watch her and step in only when it’s absolutely necessary. I’m going to see if I can get Xander.”

****

Giles moved quickly along the side of the cavern and approached the rickety cage. Predictably, there was a padlock on it. Giles squinted at it. “Yale locks. The choice of the security-minded hell-dweller.” He took a paperclip from his pocket and picked the lock in a matter of seconds. One of the happier legacies of his misspent youth. The door swung open and Giles dashed in. It would be unforgivably ironic if he were to be trapped in here himself.

“Hold on, Xander, the cavalry’s arrived.”

Xander didn’t look good. Barely conscious, he was pale and clammy, covered in filth, and bleeding from an ugly wound on his scalp. Giles did a rapid scan of the boy’s neck for vampire bites, then took Xander’s arm and slung it across his shoulders. He pulled Xander to his feet and started back towards Buffy.

She helped Giles to ease Xander to the ground. They propped him upright against the wall and tried to bring him round.

“Xander? Say something.” Buffy took a bandanna from her pocket and pressed it firmly to his head. Xander winced and came to a little.

“Buffy, you… you have to get out of here. If the demon catches you… he’ll have all he needs to... to open the Hellmouth. He can’t do it without the blood of the Slayer.”

“When the demon becomes sure that Will’s not the Slayer, I’m guessing he’ll try something really nasty to draw the real Slayer out in the open,” said Buffy.

Xander sat up a bit. “I’m so sorry, Buffy. If I hadn’t got caught in the first place, none of this would have happened.” Xander looked dazedly around the cavern until his eyes widened in horror.

“Oh, God. What’s Will doing there?”

He struggled to his feet and started stumbling toward the crowd of vampires. Giles hauled him back and pulled him towards the door, where Spike was watching the proceedings with interest. His eyes lit up when he saw the rivulets of blood running down Xander’s face.

Giles shot the vampire a hundred-watt glare. “Don’t even think about it. Take Xander to the hospital. Tell them he was attacked by a gang. And Spike...”

“Yeah?”

“You will be immeasurably sorry for what you’ve done. I’ll make sure of it.”

****

With weaponry no longer an option, Willow suppressed the uncomfortable fact that the demon had trapped her only seconds into the fight. She reached deep inside herself and focused all her mystical energies on spells to repel the demon and keep the dimensional portal closed. She had never tried to cast spells for two different effects simultaneously, let alone ones that required such tremendous power and control. The surface of her eyes turned black and her veins stood out in relief from the effort. The demon’s smile faded. It let go of her and took a few steps back. The blue smoke grew more pronounced as Willow’s spells and Giles’s counter-ritual took hold, resisting the dark magicks emanating from the Hellmouth.

Willow was having to expend an enormous amount of energy to maintain the necessary level of power, but she was oblivious to the effort. She could keep going for as long as it took. This demon had done God knows what to Xander, and it wanted her dead. A green bolt of lightning shot forth from her hands. Buffy took that as her cue to join in.

Flames snaked up the demon’s arms, and some vampires ran to smother them. Willow moved to the other side of the cavern, conjuring constantly as she went. She found a good position and stayed there for some time, casting every spell she knew to try to bind or kill the demon. When the vampires closed in on her, she made holy water to rain down on the nearest ones. Over the flickering light of the vampire barbecue, she could see Buffy causing a riot in the back, dusting vamps left and right. Willow instantly regretted taking her eyes from her opponent. She saw the demon come up behind Buffy, who was occupied fending off six vampires, but her warning shout came too late as the huge hands closed around Buffy’s neck. Willow watched as her best friend was lifted helplessly into the air, fighting for breath. The demon turned to Willow with a flourish, using Buffy as a shield.

“This is your big moment, Slayer. Show me what you’ve got.” The demon’s mouth split into an ugly grin. “Oh wait. You’re not the Slayer.”

He shook Buffy, then ran a long, rank tongue the length of Buffy’s face. “You are. A sweet delivery from Spike’s Sacrifices to Go.”

“That’s enough.” Blown cover or not, Willow wasn’t in the mood to trade witty banter with the thing that hurt her friends.

She held out her hands and focused all her remaining power reserves on the demon. Giles had battled his way to the front of the mob. He struggled in the grip of two vampires. His neck was bleeding.

“Willow, stop! You’ll kill Buffy!”

Startled, Willow’s concentration wavered for a moment as she turned towards the sound of Giles’s voice. As she did, ten streams of blinding white light flew from her fingertips, converging into a whirling ball of energy that hit him squarely in the chest. The impact hurled Giles halfway across the cavern, and sent the vampires sprawling. Giles lay still. The demon laughed.

“I think that in the human game of soccer, that would be referred to as an ‘own goal’,” said the demon. “Are there any more little helpers that you’d like to dispatch before we move on to the main event?”

Willow faltered. For the first time in days, she was starting to feel really afraid. More... herself. Now was *so* not the time to get in touch with her feelings. A flash flood of emotion, a torrent of insecurities would break her concentration completely, and it would all be over. What had she done to Giles? Don’t.She couldn’t worry about that, or anything else, right now. She was weakening fast. It seemed that the bluer the smoke from the Hellmouth became, the harder it was for her to maintain her levels of mystical energy. Anything she was going to do had to be done *now*.

She stretched her hands out towards the demon and began to recite a binding spell. The demon gave her a contemptuous glance, then spewed forth a stream of dark power that lifted her up and dashed her against the cavern wall.

The demon kept Buffy at arm’s length as it carried her over to a large, flat altar, slammed her down, and held her there. With the clawed hand crushing her windpipe, there was no way that Buffy could resist – simply remaining conscious was all she ask and more. She shifted her head just enough to shoot Willow a meaningful look.

Willow was dazed, but got the message. The portal was closing, the dark magicks receding. The demon knew it too. He extended a long, curved claw and traced it over Buffy’s jugular as he hurried through the chant to keep the portal from closing completely. Willow tried a spell to create a force field around Buffy to make the demon lose its grip, but her mystical energies had completely drained away. There was nothing left, and she was so exhausted she could barely see straight. But she had to finish this, no matter what. People she knew and people she didn’t; even people she despised, like Harmony – the skanky airhead – flashed though Willow’s mind. Everyone who would suffer and die if she couldn’t stop the demon from killing Buffy and opening the Hellmouth.

There was only one thing left to try, and Willow didn’t allow herself a moment to consider the arguments for and against it. She pulled herself up and began running towards the demon with no idea as to what she would do when she reached it, except maybe give Buffy a chance to get away. It was a desperate, idiotic gesture, and it couldn’t possibly succeed. She remembered playing rugby with Xander in her backyard. She bent double, tucked her head down, and rammed into the demon’s side with all the force she had, which wasn’t much. As Willow connected with the demon’s armored skin, she screamed in agony as a searing heat emanated from her body and flashed outwards in a blinding shock wave.

The demon roared, then exploded, spattering the cavern with bone and gore. Buffy was thrown clear. The remaining vampires shrieked as the wave spread outwards and they burst into flames. The whole cavern shook as the dimensional portal finally closed in on itself, and the high-pitched keening from below could no longer be heard.

Gasping for breath, Buffy picked herself up and ran to Giles’s side. He lay curled up on the floor with his arms wrapped around his chest. His fingernails were black.

Buffy supported him as he struggled to sit up. “My God, Giles, are you okay?”

She pulled his collar open and assessed the level of vampire suckage with a practised eye. “Well, I’ve seen worse. Did you see what Will did back there? With the vampire toasting and demon evisceration?”

Giles nodded and smiled wearily. Buffy assured him that she was all right, then helped him to his feet, and they went over to where Willow lay unconscious.

Giles knelt beside her and began to gently examine her injuries. She was covered in cuts, bruises, and minor burns, but her pupils had returned to their normal color and her veins no longer stood out as before.

“What you did was tremendously brave,” he told Willow softly.

“She was willing to sacrifice her life for ours, Buffy. When she got in close and made physical contact with the demon, it gave me the opportunity to run a... a sort of supercharged propulsion spell through her. I knew you would be all right, as that energy frequency is only fatal to demons. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Giles picked Willow up and headed for the door. “Willow was the conduit for an extremely sharp burst of power. I just hope it wasn’t too much for her.”

****

Some hours later, Willow came to and found that she was lying on Giles’ sofa. She was covered in gauze and band-aids. Again. This was getting to be a bad habit. As the room came into focus, she heard Buffy calling to Giles. The events of the evening came rushing back. She squeezed her eyes shut in mortification, but was unable to block out the memory of nearly killing the Watcher through her astounding incompetence. Willow screwed up what little remained of her courage. Quietly she asked, “What happened to Xander?”

“He’ll be all right,” said Giles, checking her over carefully. “I called him in his room at the hospital. He has a mild concussion and was quite dehydrated, so they’re keeping him in for a few days. He was more concerned about you, actually.”

Willow released the breath she had been holding. At least now she’d have a chance to try to make it up to him.

Then Willow took in the sight of Giles’s sweater, completely burned away in the front. Her eyes swept upwards, taking in the bruises on his face and the band-aid on his neck. He probably had other injuries as well; that ball of mystical energy would have hit him hard. Willow felt that tears were imminent, and tried to suppress them.

“Giles, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to – ” Giles held up a hand.

“It’s all right, love. I know you didn’t. I saw it coming just in time to deflect the worst of it with a protection spell.” He smiled. “Just another action-packed chapter for my memoirs.” He was being so cool about it, but Willow noticed that when he got up to go to the kitchen, he still seemed to be in some pain. It was typical of Giles to temper his first surge of anger until the immediate crisis was past. Or maybe he was just too tired and battered to really let her have it right now, however much she deserved it.

“We were really worried, Will,” said Buffy. “The last few days, you’ve been doing a lot of bad stuff without meaning to. It started with bad feelings, which mutated into bad decisions, which in turn made you wicked obnoxious and loopy. You should’ve trusted us to help you.”

Giles returned with a cup of tea and handed it to Willow. She took it with a shaky hand.

  “The reason that you were able to wield such advanced magicks so quickly is that the magicks were using *you*, rather than the other way around,” he said. “You were... its instrument... not its master. Drink that, you’ll feel better.” Willow sniffed the brew suspiciously.

“Not spiked this time?”

Giles smiled. “Not this time.”

Buffy put on her ‘stern face’. “To quote Giles, I guess the words ‘let this be a lesson’ would be a tad redundant at this juncture, huh?” she said.

“I’m really sorry, Buff. I was just trying to protect you, for once. In a really stupid way. It felt good for a while, though, y’know?” said Willow. “Being powerful. Competent. Doing whatever I wanted. I hate feeling like I’m helpless, or in the way. Something to be protected. I’m tired of being the ‘good’ one, the ‘brainy’ one, the one everybody dumps on and orders around. I’m not saying I feel like that all the time, but often enough to be really sick of it. I may not be Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, but I can still do more powerful magicks than I’m given credit for. In fact, there’s this spell I’ve been working on – ” Willow broke off as she registered Giles’s expression. “Um, that I won’t be working on any more without proper supervision at all times,” she finished quickly.

“I really want to believe that, Willow,” said Giles. “Because the path you’ve started to walk over the past several days is extraordinarily dangerous, and not only for you.” His gaze held steady, and finally she had to look away. “The fact that you were able to withstand – and somewhat direct – magicks of the caliber you’ve experienced recently... Well, it indicates that you have the potential to become an extremely powerful witch.”

Willow looked delighted.

“However,” Giles insisted, “with power must come responsibility. If the dark magick working through you had had its way, we would all be dead, and chaos would reign. You saved us, but you nearly got us killed in the process. You must always remember that it was simply your own courage, and my intervention, that saved the day. You felt frustrated... unappreciated... by us, yes, but mostly by yourself. We all feel that way sometimes, Willow. You’ve always had my respect – and that of your friends,” he gestured to Buffy, who nodded vigorously. “And I’m truly sorry if I haven’t managed to communicate that to you as often as I should.” He smiled warmly. “And when you hurled yourself at that enormous demon, I-I must admit that my admiration for you, and my fears for your sanity – not to mention your life – reached new heights. That was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen. You may not have believed yourself capable of doing something like that; but sometimes we only find that we have what we need... when we need it.”

Willow blushed.

Giles fiddled with his glasses. “I’ve placed your powers in stasis for a while, to give you a chance to recover and to think about what’s happened,” he said. “When I decide to return them, you must take your studies slowly – ensure that you’re always in control of the mystical energies you call upon.”

Willow nodded. “I will, I swear. I didn’t like being a lightning rod for inter-dimensional evil anyway,” she said.

“No, I’d imagine not. I never did. Well... perhaps I did, but that’s not the point.” Giles smiled. He squeezed Willow’s shoulder and stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to have an interview with a vampire. And Willow – ”

“Yeah?” There’s more?

“I trust you understand that this is but the first of many, many long and tedious talks that we’ll be having before I permit you to begin practicing magick again.” Willow gave him a rueful smile.

“I guess that’s fair.”

When Giles had gone, Buffy turned to Willow and held out an imaginary microphone. “Willow Rosenberg, you’ve just saved the world from eternal torment. What are you gonna do now?”

Willow laughed, but part of her remained profoundly uneasy. Despite all that had happened, she wanted to feel that power coursing through her again. When she was conjuring, the insecurities, fears, and all the other bad stuff, large and small, that went round and round in her head every day just shut up and went away, and she felt connected to something infinitely greater than herself. Now the magicks were gone, leaving emptiness and a profound sense of vulnerability in their place. She longed to lose those feelings, re-establish the connection, but was scared to death of what might happen if she did. She wondered how long she could hold out once Giles returned her powers. She wondered if she should tell him. In a small voice, Willow tried to answer Buffy’s question honestly.

“I don’t know.”

END