âEnough. Iâll call tomorrow and make some inquiries.â
âIn the meantime, why donât I go see if Willow has managed to find anything else out?â Ripper started to get up. Giles stepped in front of him and with one hand pushed him back.
âDonât.â He turned towards the phone. âIâll call her and see.â He dialed a number and waited. Finally, he slammed the phone down. âDamn. Where could she be?â **********
âAlright, Will. Weâre ready for the âtest driveâ anytime you are.â Buffy called up from downstairs. She and Anya had arrived an hour or so ago with all the make-up and leather they possessed. Willow had decided that she needed to get back at Spike and Ripper for arguing over her like two dogs over a bone. And talking to Xander she had realized exactly what, or rather who, could help her with that. She knew better than to actually bring VampWillow back, but with a little glamour, she could impersonate her. The fact that Buffy, Xander and Anya had their doubts only spurred her on.
âGive me five minutes.â She called out the door. She closed it behind her and sat down in front of her mirror. On her left were three rosebuds floating in rain water. On her right were three red candles. She lit them with a stick of lavender incense, then set the stick in a burner in front of her. She stared in the mirror and called on Venus to empower her. âThis is to feel, this is to see. Make it look real, so mote it be.â
The power flowed through her. Her candles flared and a burst of red lights sprinkled over her. Her skin glowed a shade paler than usual. Her green eyes shone with a new light. Her hair darkened to a blood red. She rolled her neck luxuriously and grinned at her own image. Willow licked her lips, the power still rushing through her veins. This was addictive. She reminded herself that this was just Glamour, but it was hard. A part of her was very much like VampWillow, whether she admitted it to the others or not. And that part was ready for a night out.
She picked up the red lipstick Anya had give her. It was called âtemptationâ. She slicked it over her lips and smiled again. Oh yeah. More than just ready for a night out. âAlright, ready or not,â she whispered as she walked to the door. âHere I come.â ********
âWhat can be taking her so long? I thought Glamour was rather simple for a witch of her strength.â Anya was bored. She wanted to go home so she could have sex with Xander. Not to mention, thinking about VampWillow reminded her of her past vengeance demon days. She walked over to Xander and put her arm through his.
âNow, An, Iâm sure it takes a while to completely change yourself into a âOh. My. God.â Xander stared open-mouthed at the creature descending the stairs. The last time he had seen this, he had thought his best friend in the world was dead.
Willow slunk down the stairs. She was wearing leather pants and boots, a skin tight red shirt and a leather lace-up vest. She had straightened her hair and it waved about her face in crimson strands. She tilted her head to the side and sighed. âBored now.â
âUm, Will? That was just Glamour, right? You didnât accidentally bring her back, did you?â Buffy asked, concerned.
Willow didnât answer, she just crossed the living room towards Xander and Anya. Willow had a grace to her walk. But this walk was distinctly predatory. Every step was a sexual invitation. Xanderâs eyes grew wide. VampWillow had been into naughty touching. He didnât think that would be a good thing in front of his girlfriend. âWills?â
She stopped in front of them and stretched out her hand. He dropped Anyaâs arm and moved to back away. But Willow didnât touch him. Instead, she stroked her hands through Anyaâs hair. âPretty.â Then she ran the back of her knuckles over her face. Anya smiled. She had used a new conditioner today. Evidently it was noticeable, and did make her hair super shiny and manageable. Xander didnât know what to do. He knew that Willow had said her alter ego was kind of gay, but he had never thought . . .well, heâd never thought of this.
Willow smiled. âWeâll play later. Iâve misplaced all of my toys.â She pulled a pack of smokes she had pinched off Spike at Gilesâ today. She lit a cigarette. Xander was terrified. What if they couldnât get the real Willow back?
Willow exhaled, turned and walked over to Buffy. She put her arm around her shoulders. âReady now.â
Buffy let out a smile of relief and smiled. She could feel the warmth of her friendâs body. This was Willow. She was just a better actor than they had thought she could be. âThen to the Bronze we go.â
Xander didnât move an inch. He was still in a little bit of shock. He knew Willow backwards and forwards. But he didnât know about this. Anya touched his cheek, confused. âXander, whatâs wrong. You like leather on me.â
âWills?â He swallowed hard. If he had known that she could be like this, so confident, at ease with the effect she could have on men, there would have been âflukingâ a lot sooner. And a lot longer.
âItâs ok, Xander.â Willow said, though she couldnât keep a slight purr out of her voice. She was terribly impressed with how well she had pulled this off and with the reactions that she was getting. She would make Faith look like Rebecca of Sunny-dale Farm. âItâs me. Really.â She sounded confident and calm. Inside, she trembled. Yes, itâs me. The real me. And it feels so good, itâs scary. ********
âMate, why are we going to the Bronze? Rupert said there was very little chance that Red would be out dancing when there was work to be done. And Iâd have to say that I agree with him.â Spike looked at Ripper out of the corner of his eye.
âTrust me. She wasnât at any of her friendsâ houses. She wasnât at the library. She wasnât home. How many places are there to hang out in Sunnydale?â Ripper smiled. Not to mention after that comment I made, Iâm sure she feels like being unpredictable. He couldnât wait. He would walk into the Bronze and she would be sitting alone, at a table, sipping coffee she didnât like, watching her friends dance to a song whose lyrics she didnât get. She would see him, they would dance and that would be that. He would just recreate the magic of their first encounter. He looked at the vampire beside him. Spike didnât stand a chance.
They walked through the double doors. For a moment they stood, scoping the crowd, the band and the bar. The band was taking a break, so a D.J. had stepped in for a moment, the crowd was pumped and in full dance mode, the bar was busy. Ripper searched the tables, but couldnât find his favorite red head. Still, he was enjoying the music. They were playing a remix of Steppenwolfâs Magic Carpet Ride.
âHoly Hell.â Spike breathed.
âWhat is it . . .it canât be.â Willow was in the center of the dance floor. She was dancing with two guys and a girl, her arms twisting above her head in abandon as she sang along with the music. Every other beat or so, she would reach out to stroke the face or hair of one her companions. They kept trying to touch her, pull her close, but she would squirm away and shake a finger at them. And she was decked out in leather.
âTold you she had a bad side, Rip.â Spike patted him on the back and went to the bar to get them some beers. It looked like it was going to be a long night. He looked over his shoulder. Ripper had sat down at one of the tables. No longer did he look bewildered, though. He was studying the girl intently. A crafty grin spread over his face. An interesting night indeed.
Spike turned to the bartender. âTwo beers, mate.â