Willow cradled the phone between her neck and shoulder as she awkwardly lifted a cup of steaming hot tea to her mouth. A maid had brought it to her room at her request. She was listening to Tara as she made some notes on what the other witch was saying. “Thanks so much, Tara. I had no idea you knew so much about banishing ghosts. When you get back we’re gonna have to have trade secrets. I know a little bit about doing glamours.”
She listened for a minute. “Have fun at the Wiccan retreat. No, don’t worry about not being here, we can handle it. Say ‘merry meeting’ to Janice for me, alright? Bye.” She hung up with the other witch and then put the phone back on its receiver. Willow stood, cup of tea in hand and began to pace, thinking over the information the other witch had given her. While walking, her shoelaces began to come undone, Willow tripped, causing the hot tea to drench the front of her shirt. “Great. Just great.” She muttered.
*******
“So, ducks, you got any plans for tonight?”
The maid clutched her car keys tighter, huddling in the rear entrance to the Wentworth mansion. She’s seen and heard some weird things in this house lately, noises from rooms that weren’t occupied, shadowy shapes and the like. Sometimes she wondered if it was worth the amount of money she earned to work here. She focused carefully on the young man was leaning indolently against her car, smoking a cigarette but said nothing. She didn’t want to encourage him.
“Cat got your tongue? Don’t be shy. Maybe you and me could have some fun tonight. What do you say?”Spike gave her his best come-hither look. It always melted even the frostiest of ice queens. He used it mercilessly too, even if his intention was to eat the young lady in question.
She didn’t trust him. Something about him was. . .off. She looked at him nervously, willing him away from her new car. She hadn’t even had it a month. “Let me think. Not a chance in hell?”
Another man stepped into the meager glow provided by the security light. “I’ve been there, didn’t care for it much at all.” He looked to Spike, giving him a jaunty grin. “Room service was terrible.”
“Go away or I-I-I’ll-“
”You’ll do what, ducks? The house has already gone to bed. Would you want to wake your boss from a sound sleep to find you having a fight with your two boyfriends on his property.”
What the hell was going on? And get away from my car! “You’re not my boyfriends. And maybe I don’t care about this job that much.”
Spike raised an eyebrow. She was bluffing, had to admire that. But he was more determined. “That’s right, we’re not.” He looked at her car speculatively, and then raised his fist, preparing to shatter her car window.
“No!” Her keys clattered to the ground and she turned around and shouted into the house. “Somebody, help!”
Angel and Spike walked over to her, getting in her personal space. She pressed herself against the wall. Spike grinned evilly as he winked at her. “Thanks for the invite, sweets.”
Angel held out her car keys and dropped them into her limp hand. “Drive safe.”
She’d been living in Sunnydale for two years now. Two pale men, dressed in black coats, and needing an invitation. She didn’t know what they were exactly, but they weren’t human. She looked them over for a split second before she raced to her car, gunned the engine, threw it into drive and high-tailed it out of the driveway.
“Think she’ll call the cops?”
“A better question might be, think she’ll give two weeks notice before she quits?” Angel replied, grinning. Laughing, they both trotted up the stairs.
*******
“Did you hear that?” Buffy perked her head to the side as she tied on her bathrobe.
“Hear what?” Riley wrapped his arms around her waist. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Buffy frowned and pulled away from her boyfriend. “I thought I heard someone call for help.”
“Maybe it was the ghost.” He laughed.
“This isn’t funny.” She scowled at him. She walked to window and looked down, she didn’t see anyone. “I’m going to go talk to Giles. Maybe he can explain exactly what this ghost can or can’t do. You go do a perimeter check and make sure everything’s okay.”
“But, that is, I thought we were going to sleep . . .”
He was thinking about sex. . now? “Get dressed and go.” She stalked out of the room. She really liked being with Riley. She might even love him a little. But he still didn’t understand her as well as she would have liked. For one, he could fight demons, but he had trouble accepting the existence of ghosts. And he had a lot of trouble understanding the duties of the slayer.
She turned a corner. It was times like this that she really wished that Angel were still around. He always understood her sacred duty and that he had to come second to that. Even when she had sent him to Hell. Riley seemed to have a problem being sent outside. If only she could still talk to Angel the way they used to. Now all they did was fight. If only Angel were close enough, geographically speaking, to talk to. She looked up as she almost bumped into someone. “Oh, sorry Angel.”
*******
“Damn it, Spike!” Willow cried, tossing the frothy piece of silk he’d packed her to the floor. She opened up the bag, she needed something loose to wear, something she could move in. She’d asked Spike to pack for her, because she was pressed for time.
Willow had assumed that he would pack her some baggy jeans, or leggings, or her overalls - she’d kill for her overalls at this point. He packed her leopard panty and bra set? Well, actually just her bra. She shook her head. Men! They didn’t know about the importance of matched sets. Or the distinction between comfy, everyday panties and ‘boyfriend’ panties. She resumed her search. She had a tight pair of jeans she’d outgrown, left over from her freshman year of highschool. There was a backless sweater that Buffy had left at her house. Leather pants? Why on earth would she wear leather pants in front of her friends. Goddess. She groaned as she sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands. “My fault, I asked him to pack.” Now what was she going to wear? She looked down at her ensemble. Guess this was all she had.
“Getting ready to do another strip tease, pet?”
“Spike?” The vampire grinned as he peeked around the corner of her door. He stepped into her bedroom, taking in the strewn clothes. “What are you doing here? I specifically told you and Angel that I can handle myself. Besides, what if Buffy sees you two? And why did you pack this stuff!”
“Which question do you want me to answer first?”
“Argh!!!!”
“What was that, pet?” He grinned at her. “Love it when you get all nonverbal and angry.” She glowered at him. “But it’s too late for worrying about Buffy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Angel and Buffy are having a nice little chat right now.”
“Oh, no! I told you not to come!”
“Don’t worry, pet. I snuck by them and the two are having a grand old time. Angel will get out of it. Don’t worry. Now, give us a kiss.”
Willow picked up the nearest piece of clothing and threw it at him.
*******
“Angel! Is it. . .really you?” Buffy backed up a little, disconcerted. It was like her wish was. . .just granted.
Willow was going to kill him. . .or Buffy would. “Uh. . .no. No, I’m. . .I’m a figment of your imagination.” Great, why don’t you tell her you’re ‘Puff, the magic dragon.’ Might be more believable. Though, Spike would probably call him ‘Poof, the magic dragon.’ He almost laughed at that but caught himself.
“A figment?”
Angel sighed. “A figment is something that your mind generates because you–“
”I know what a figment is, Angel.” She reached out and touched his arm for emphasis. “You’re solid, real.”
“No, you just have a vivid imagination. Maybe you needed to see me right now and so you did.”
“No, I really don’t have that great of an imagination. Why are you here?”
She was right, she didn’t. Angel thought a minute. “Well, I just happened to be here because I–“
She put her hands on her hips. “I know why you’re here. Riley. You’re angry because I’m dating him, jealous of our relationship. You’re stalking us.”
“Stalking? That’s a harsh word.” Obviously the diversion tactic wasn’t working that well. “I’m here. . .helping you. Like I did. . . when the Native Americans ghosts attacked. My friend had another vision.”
She could accept this, Angel was not Angelus. He would never try to cause her pain on purpose. “A vision? Is it the ghost?”
