parts 8-13(end)

Author: Lucinda
Rating: PG, maybe up to PG 13 later.
Pairing: Willow/ Oliver Wood, mention of Willow/Tara
Disclaimer: I own nobody that you recognize. 'Yoda' the song belongs to Weird Al Yankovic; Yoda the character and all other Star Wars references belongs to George Lucas of Star Wars & Henson creatures/animatronics. Oliver Wood & Hogwarts belong to JK Rowling.
Distribution: Bite Me, WWW, NHA, WLS, yourmission... anyone else that wants it, please ask.
Note: Set somewhat AU season 6, and after Oliver has graduated.
Note: For those who are wondering about Willow going from Tara to Oliver a) Willow dated Oz before Tara and had a crush on Xander, so there is a well established precedent for her 'liking' guys. AND it isn't like Willow sees Oliver & jumps right into bed with him.



She hoisted the large trunk into the back of her car, loading it into the back seat so that if it became necesary, the trunk, a bit smallish at best, would be empty if Spike needed to use it. She then went upstairs and pulled out her duffel, packing away a few other things also. Some more books, some disks and CD's that she had copied information onto from Giles' demon texts, her musical CD's and tapes, and a few older, well read paperbacks, carefully putting them into her car. She was going to pay a visit to Spike, she needed a sympathetic ear.

Some impulse that she couldn't quite explain made her detour to stop at Willie's first. Spike had looked awfully pale, maybe he could use a bit more blood. She might as well pick some up for him. She walked into the bar, a small corner of her mind identifying some of the demons sitting at the tables, absently pulling up the knowledge of how to kill them. She walked right up to the bar, settling her elbows on the clean polished wood, apparently unconcerned about the large, quilled demon standing beside her with four glowing orange eyes.

"Aren't you out a bit late, little red?" Willie's voice seemed a little to smug to Willow. It was as if he knew that she had been working with Buffy, as if he had also dismissed her as a nothing.

She looked up at him, her face a blank mask in spite of the dried tear tracks on her cheeks, and her eyes gone dark with power and pain. "My bedtime is of no concern to you. What is your concern is that you are going to get me five units of human blood, fresh, and healthy. I don't advise you to make any excuses either."

Willie swallowed hard at the sight of her eyes. "R-right. Human blood, fresh. I can do that. Just a few moments..." He scurried to the back, his posture screaming fear.

Willow frowned, glancing at the mirror. Her eyes were black... why had her eyes gone black? She felt the magical power seething under her skin, felt this wild urge to level the place, to burn it to the ground so that others could feel a measure of her pain. Her teeth clenched together, she resisted the impulse, and tried to calm her power, part of her wondering if she was really capable of leveling Willie's bar. But she had learned that using magic to try to lessen the pain of a cheating lover, now most definitely and EX lover, would only bring more pain.

He came back quickly, carrying a small cooler that was partly opened to reveal several of the Red Cross blood bags, stamped with a collection date of yesterday. His hands were shaking slightly, and when he spoke, his voice had a bit of tremor to it. "Will this do?"

Glancing inside, Willow nodded to the bartender. "It will do." She pulled out some money from her pocket, counting out several bills that she let fall onto the bar. Spike had told her what the going rate for human blood was, so she knew what she owed the seedy little bartender. "There you are. Nice doing business with you."

She picked up the cooler, snapping the lid closed as she lifted it, and walked out of the building, her heart to full of pain and anger and a sense of betrayal to fear any of the things inside the bar. They were only demons, what could they do besides simple physical pain? She didn't notice that she had left them unsettled, some of them having sensed the power that she held inside of her, and those sensitive few were afraid.

Her drive to St. Peter's Cemetery was quiet, and she parked her car in the shadow of a trio of large pines before heading towards Spike's crypt. The cooler of blood was in her hand, and she had a stake with her just in case. There was a very good reason that Sunnydale cemeteries were considered dangerous at night. As she got closer to the Pollard family crypt, she noticed that there was another figure headed that way in the darkness. The person was taller than her, a rounded male shape with big floppy ears, most clearly not a human. But was he dangerous? She held her stake ready just in case, and began to walk a bit faster.

She watched the unknown demon move into Spike's crypt, removing any doubt that he just happened to be in the same cemetery by chance. She listened as she walked closer, worrying that Spike might be in danger.

The demon spoke, his voice sounding quite ordinary, and a bit unsettled. "Spike? Were you expecting company? There's a presence out there, feels strong, and possibly dangerous."

Willow breathed a small sigh of relief upon hearing those words. It didn't sound as if the floppy eared demon was trying to hurt Spike, which was a good thing. Especially since she wasn't certain what he was or how to get rid of him.

"What sort of presence? The Slayer?" Spike's voice sounded uneasy. "No, not the Slayer, I would have felt her... you're right, I can feel it. MAybe I'd best check..." Footsteps moved towards the door, the heels of his scuffed up boots thudding against the concrete floor.

The crypt door opened inwards, and there was a pause before Spike stepped out, his cheek a cascading range of blues and purple bruising in the moonlight. He glanced around and his eyes settled on Willow, stake in one hand, and the cooler in the other. "Willow? Didn't expect you out here... come on in. Willow, this is Clem, Clem, this is Willow."

Willow tucked the stake back into her coat pocket, which she left on against the chill of the stone walls. She gave a small, tight smile to Clem. "Hey, it's good to see that Spike has a friend. Umm, Spike? I brought you this, looks like it's a good thing. What happened to you?"

Spike accepted the cooler gratefully, leading Willow over to the faded and worn couch. He pulled out the bags, drinking the first two down immediately while starting the third heating in his small microwave. "There was this... thing that I bumped into. Nasty bugger it was. It looked almost like some clay monster like a little kid would make, and it had this row of spines down it's back and really big hands with claws. Thing backhanded me into a wall, but it seemed like it was searching for something, and I was just in the way. Didn't seem very bright."

He downed the now warm third bag, his expression blissful as he swallowed. "Luv, you have no idea how good this tastes right now..." He looked at her, his eyes golden, and frowned. "You were crying earlier, there's tear tracks on your face. What happened now? Another run in with Slutty?"

Willow gave a bitter smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Not the one you mean. I was walking back from the Espresso Pump and I saw Tara. She was kissing some guy... not anyone I knew, but... there was tongue involved, and he was touching her. I thought... I never wanted to go through that sort of pain again, and here I am. She's cheating with him, I just know it. Or maybe I'm her little fling on the side, some diversion while he's busy..." The tears began to fall again, rewetting the tracks of dried salt on her cheeks.

Spike immediately was at her side, sitting beside her on the couch, one arm around her shoulders in a firm half hug that reassured her that she was not alone. Clem sort of patted her other hand a bit awkwardly, clearly wanting to offer a bit of reassurance, and entirely uncertain how to go about it. Spike's voice was a low murmur into her ear, the faintest hint of distortion telling her that he still had his fangs. "I'm sorry luv, but if she can't see what you're worth you can only do better without her. We'll get the hell out of this miserable town, there's got to be a better future anywhere else. Like that school your not-a-date was mentioning."

Willow sniffled a bit, trying to slow the tears. "I'm not even quite certain why I keep crying, but it hurts. I knew there were problems, we hadn't... well, it was almost as if the 'us' part had stopped a while ago, but neither of us had said anything, and there she was, kissing him, just like HE'd been with that she-wolf, and it hurt so bad, and how could she have done that to me? How could she have said that she cared, that she was mine and then gone to him, kissed him like that? And I just keep crying, which is probably better than trying magic to make it go away, after all, look how well that worked the last time? But it hurts, and I scared Willie when my eyes went all creepy black and ..." The tears had only flowed faster, and Willow's words dissolved into painful sobbing.

end part 8.


Willow had finally drifted to sleep, exhausted from her tears and frustrations. Spike had left her laying on the couch, draping his duster over her to serve as a make shift blanket. He had gone to the back of the crypt with Clem, and they had played a few hands of poker, mainly as a flimsy excuse to give Willow some time to rest.

"Umm, Spike? Who were the people that Red mentioned? I couldn't sort out all the details, and it didn't look like she needed any questions. Does she always ramble like that?" His voice was filled with concern and bafflement.

Spike gave a small, humorless laugh. "Last year, she was head over heals for this... stupid werewolf guitarist. Turned out there was another werewolf in the area, a female. The moon came full, they found each other... the she-wolf tried to kill red, Mutt-boy killed the she-wolf, almost killed Red, and then left town the next day. Broke her heart. Next she ended up involved with this pale and annoying witch girl. Seems the other witch is upset because Willow's more powerful than she is, and now that Willow's getting close to having some control... The other one feels all threatened. Witch girl and the Slayer have been trying to cut Red off from doing magic." Spike's voice had taken on a definite low growl by the end of his words.

"But... as strong as she is, can she simply stop working magic? I can feel how strong she is, even when she's asleep."

"She probably can't." Spike's words were almost a whisper. "But she's got them thinking that she has. Red's worried that the Slayer's flipping out, the Slayer almost squeezed her arm off today. You might want to leave town, go somewhere else, anywhere else."

"I have relatives elsewhere, several places of elsewhere." Clem's tone had relaxed a bit, as if he felt better knowing that the powerful woman on Spike's couch had a reason for the pain in her eyes, that Spike had a measure of concern for her well being.

Clem eventually made his way out of the crypt, waving a farewell to Spike. Spike watched him go, a part of him wondering if Clem's people were in the watcher's books, if the Slayer would try to hurt Clem if she ever saw him. With something almost like sorrow, he decided that while the Buffy that he'd crashed the Parent Teacher conference of probably wouldn't have bothered Clem, the new, more violent one that had bruised Willow would do her best to kill him.

This town was definitely not safe. He checked to see that the small chest that held his most valued possesions was loaded into Willow's car, and slid her box of real magical things into the trunk of her car, seeing the small pillow and thick blanket that were tucked into a corner of her car's cargo space. It seemed that Red had considered the idea that they might have to leave in the daytime, and had kept his limitations in mind.

Best to figure out what excuse he could give if he had to explain why Willow was here. He felt the sudden urge to hide as much of the truth behind Willow's pain from the Slayer and her supposed friends as possible. He didn't want them knowing that her witch had betrayed her just like the mutt, the Slayer would make these subtle barbed comments. The watcher wouldn't be too bad about it, but... No, best hide it from all of them.

Hmmm, he was supposed to be on patrol for evil demons. If he said that there had been a large and dangerous demon chasing Willow, that she had been so frightened and exhausted that by the time he got her calmed down, it was close to sunrise... After all, he was flamable, how would he get her somewhere else during the daytime? And if she was utterly exhausted from a demon chasing her, and then having a little panic fit... naturally she would stay here instead of leaving.

All he had to do was remember to tell Willow the new version of what had happened. Spike settled onto his chair, figuring that he would just wait here untill Willow woke up. He had a plan, everything would be just fine. He closed his eyes for just a moment... Soon, the only noise was Willow's soft even breathing as she and Spike slept peacefully in his crypt.

end part 9.


Willow came awake slowly, feeling uncharacteristically refreshed. For the first time in a long time, she had slept until she awoke on her own, instead of waking from tormented dreams or being shaken from her sleep by some sort of noise or disturbance. She wasn't cold, and felt comfortably warm, and the scent of leather surrounded her. A moments puzzled blinking determined that the oddly lumpy bed was actually Spike's couch, and she was covered with his duster. He must have tucked it over her after... Her eyes felt all scratchy, she remembered crying on his shoulder last night about Tara, remembered seeing Tara kissing that strange man.

He had let her sleep on his couch, not shaking her awake or moving her to another location as she slept. As she slowly sat up, she saw that Spike was asleep in the chair, slumped over as if he had sat down and drifted off to sleep. He had a small frown on his face, even while he... actually, how could she tell if he was awake or asleep? Hmmm... he wasn't moving, not even twitching. She had never seen him so still and quiet when awake, not without some heavy injuries or sudden shock. So, he was most likely asleep.

Willow smiled at the thought. Spike had a kind streak in him, but he did his best to hide it. If he really cared for someone, there was very little that he wouldn't do for them, few risks he wouldn't take. He knew that this was a vulnerability of his, so he tried to keep people from getting close enough that they had that sort of power over him. Buffy could have been close enough, could have had him willing to do anything for her, but she had pushed him away, rejected the idea that he could have any real emotions or feelings. So Buffy had pushed him away, and instead, Willow had slipped inside, her pain speaking to his, her hidden fears whispering to his. They had both resisted, neither wanting to have anything in common with the other. But it had still happened, they had gotten closer and had become friends, family even.

She sighed, stretching out the muscles in her back and shoulders. As safe as she had felt, the couch was still rather lumpy and awkward. Considering, Willow tried to figure out what she had to do today, and the best way to minimize her chances to run into either Buffy or Tara. She had to go to her lecture today at three, but that was the only thing that she absolutely had to do that Buffy would know about. She wanted to talk to Oliver, needed to figure out how to get away from here as soon as possible. For both her and Spike.

"Spike?" She didn't raise her voice, simply spoke his name. She didn't want to interrupt his sleep, he probably needed it every bit as badly as she did.

He moved, a near spastic looking movement of arms and legs, his head jerking up and eyes going amber, a faint growl emerging as he looked around. Seeing her sitting on the couch, he gave a small smile. "Red... I didn't mean to doze off. I did some thinking. You'd best do a bit of sweet talking to that wizard boy, get it sorted out so we can get out of here fast. Last night, I went out on patrol."

Willow frowned a bit, opening her mouth to ask exactly why he was saying something about a patrol. Clearly if he had patrolled, it had been before she had arrived... unless it was the same sort of patrol as his 'lurky disappearance thing' from the other night at the Bronze. Instead, she nodded slowly, closing her mouth again.

He saw the comprehension settle on her expression and nodded. "Right. I was on patrol and found you trying to run away from a big bulky demon that had you scared half to death. Got you away from it and brought you here, and then you broke down into a near hysterical reaction, shaking, crying, the whole dramatic works. Cried yourself into exhaustion just before dawn, hiccups, blotchy face and all. Naturally, being a bit flammable, I couldn't take you home."

She almost smiled as she went along with his fiction. "So, any idea where the huge grey thing with warts the size of baseballs went? And a lumpy back, like some sort of over-grown real life Scooby-Doo monster coming after us. I cried all over you, I think you were annoyed about it. Kept growling something about me being a bloody twit and the usual threats for when the chip comes out... rip my head off, bathe in my blood, and you'd try it a lot faster if I didn't stop crying all over you... the whole normal thing where you can't stand any of us, blah blah."

Spike gave a wicked grin. "Can you throw in something particularly graphic and gruesome? AS for the thing, well, we darted through a pack of minions, and they got in it's way, we bailed. Didn't see it, don't want to see it again. But maybe Giles will know. After all, he has a lot of books..."

"Right. A lot of books on demons and scary things. There was this particularly icky torturous death in one of the Watcher chronicles... It had to do with a pair of sharp spikes and some knives and hot stones... but it would take a long painful time to die. Want me to say that was for Buffy?"

He laughed, a short harsh sound born more from stress and frustration instead of any true amusement. "Yeah, that sounds good. You got to stop reading about people getting tortured to death, Red. Go, take your lecture, call the watcher, talk to the nice Scottish boy."

She stood up, giving a small smile before speaking again, this time in a carefully copied pose, her hands held clasped in front of her, her voice high and soft. "Help me, Oliver Wood. You're my only hope."

Spike collapsed into the chair, laughing so hard that red tinged tears rolled down his cheeks. "Help... oh... bloody... that's a .... classic!"

end part 10.


Her lecture, the last one before the exams, went by slowly. A part of Willow was terrified that Buffy or Tara would find her, would somehow know that she intended to leave. Logically, she knew that they had no idea what her plans were. Even if they did, on what grounds could they logically object? Her power needed more control, she would go to a school and learn proper magic. She was a downer to her friends when she 'got in a mood' she would go away. Buffy needed someone to do research, she could learn to open the books herself, and Tara could help, since she had apparently decided that she wanted to be the sole magic user.

But her fear wasn't listening to logic. She was on her way to the Magic Box, where she knew that Giles would be. Considerable thought during the lecture had produced the conclusion that she should go to the shop and tell Giles about the Scooby-Doo demon, just as if it had really happened. That way, there would be no reason for anyone to suspect that something was up. She would slip away later to talk to Oliver.

She heard the bell on the door chime as she went inside the store. Anya was behind the counter, and looked up, her 'professional money taker' smile firmly in place. Discovering that it was only Willow, and not someone who would be spending money, the smile fell away. "Oh, it's you. While you're over there, can you check the supply of Rose Quartz? There's been a lot of them selling today, and I want to know if I need more from the back."

Willow gave a small nod towards Anya, mentally sighing. Anya had never really seemed to like her, and the only possible reasons that she could think of was that it either had to do with some fear that Willow would try to take Xander away, or some resentment that instead of her power focus, they had ended up with Vampire Willow.

Anya was also rather vocal that Willow should be careful with her magic, but it had always seemed more like worry that Anya or Xander would be affected by a spell going wrong than the idea that Willow shouldn't do magic. Anya hadn't once objected to Willow working magic that she knew would go properly, only things that she thought Willow might loose control over. If she had the faintest confidence that Anya could keep a secret, she would have told the former demon that she intended to go study magic, but Anya had a very well noted lack of secrecy.

Looking back up from the carved wooden bowl that should have been filled with the rounded pink crystals, Willow called to Anya. "You have maybe a dozen left out here, and the Tiger's Eye is getting pretty low too. Is Giles in the back? I need to talk to him about something."

Glancing at the few people still browsing the store, Anya simply nodded. Most likely she was thinking that mention of demons or vampires would scare away the customers, and then they wouldn't give her their money. "He's in the back. Something about verifying a possible supplier for the raven feathers."

Willow slipped into the back, relaxing some when she discovered that Giles was alone, and indeed, simply looking over a catalog from a book publisher. Owning the magic store seemed to make Giles so much happier than being a librarian had. "Giles? umm... I ran into a problem last night."

He looked up, his glasses having slid down his nose a bit. "What sort of problem?"

"A Buffy sort of problem." The answer slipped out almost before she realized it.

Fortunately, Giles seemed to think that she simply meant that it was some sort of demon or vampire related trouble. "Is this going to require some research, or should we simply have Buffy search for the source of the problem?"

Just as Willow was about to reply, she heard the front bell jangle loudly, followed by the door slamming shut. Willow tensed, going a bit pale as she heard Buffy's voice call out. "Giles? Are you in here?"

The Slayer came back, her expression unhappy as she entered the room. "Giles, Tara and I couldn't find Willow this morning... oh, there you are. Where were you?"

Giles sighed, pushing his glasses back into place. "Willow said that she encountered a problem for you to deal with. She was just about to explain the details to me. I assume that her whereabouts last night will be included."

Willow took a breath, noticing that her hands were shaking. "I was walking last night, and there was this noise behind me. It ended up being this... it looked a lot like one of the monsters from the old Scooby-Doo cartoons, all grey and sort of drippy looking? Except that it was about nine feet tall, and had these warty things over it the size of baseballs. I have no idea what it was, but it was following me, and I tried to run, but it kept following me."

She was breathing faster now, praying that Buffy would buy the story. Her worry managed to look enough like remembered fear to not raise any questions from Giles. She licked her lips, wondering exactly when they had gone so dry. "I ran into Spike, sort of literally, and he helped me back up, and we ran. Ran through this pack of minions, they might have tried to follow us, but the grey thing was still there, and one of them hit it... There was all this noise of fighting, and Spike and I left while we could. Then I umm... sort of brokedownandcriedalloverhim."

Buffy was frowning, a stake in one hand tapping against her palm. "Giles? What sort of thing could that be? How do I kill it? Willow, why didn't Spike take you back to the apartment? And what exactly did you say you did? No magic, right? We did have that talk already."

She could feel herself blushing. "No, no magic. It was... umm, this is sort of embarrassing. It was so big and scary... I sort of had a hysterical crying fit all over Spike."

Giles barely managed to conceal a smile. "Somehow, I doubt that that would have been very appreciated."

"Umm... no. He was pretty unhappy. There was growling, and some 'stop crying right now's and he said I was going to stain his duster. He also said that as soon as he got that chip out, he'd hang me up and give me a reason to cry. Oddly enough, that didn't really help me stop." She sighed, a ragged exhalation of breath. "I didn't manage to stop crying until really late. I guess it was too close to sunrise or something, because I was still there when I woke up this morning."

Buffy made a face. "Chased by a demon and only Spike for comfort? That's worse than nothing. So, Giles, which books should you start looking in for these demons? I have to go study for my psych final..."

Buffy grabbed a couple random books, passing them over to Giles before leaving the room. Giles watched her leave with an expression of barely concealed frustration and dismay. He opened one of the books, his eyes not even moving as he leafed through a few pages.

Willow was certain that Giles had no idea what was on the pages in front of him. She was also certain that Buffy's actions were as frustrating to him as some things had been for Willow. Gathering a bit of courage, she asked the question that had formed in her mind. "Has she been shirking patrols lately? Begging off to ahh... study for classes?"

Giles looked at her, an expression on his face that made Willow think that he was trying to determine if he wanted to say something. "I must admit that she seems to require a great deal of studying lately. Interestingly enough, a great deal of it seems to be discovered in the evenings."

Willow slumped in her seat, opening one of the books. She started turning pages, half heartedly looking at the pictures of demons. "Giles? For what it's worth, I promise not to be causing problems with uncontrolled magic."

His voice was tight, as if he was fighting to contain his emotions. "That's... that's very good to know."

She turned back to the book, wondering exactly what emotions Giles was trying to keep under control. She couldn't see a future for herself here. Tara had drifted away emotionally, and now sought to keep her from trying anything, and had that... whatever going on with that man from the alley. Buffy... Buffy just wasn't the same anymore. It was as if the Buffy that she had met in high school was dead and gone, leaving this hostile stranger behind with her face.

Something seemed a bit sticky on the page, and she looked down, trying to figure out why her fingers seemed stuck to the page. "Oh my God... Giles? It's... it's the thing..." Her fingers seemed stuck to the page, right below a picture of a shambling things that looked as if it was covered over with warts and then melting. There really was such a creature. Actually, from the description, it was a rather nasty and vicious thing, the type of thing that really should be slain, for the safety of humans and even most demons.

"Oh dear... is there any way that I can contact Buffy? If this is really what you saw, it is much to dangerous to let it wait until she happens to be bored with the Bronze." Giles looked quite alarmed, and pulled his glasses off, polishing them so forcefully that there was a sudden metallic snapping, and Giles was left holding half off the frames in his hand, the other lens and one arm fallen to the open book in front of him.

Willow pulled out her backpack, grabbing a dark grey cell phone from the front pocket. "She's programmed into the menu. Use the number for her cell. I have... I have to go."

She didn't bother waiting to get the cell phone back. All the numbers that she might want to use were programmed into her other cell phone, the one that her parents had sent to her as a seventeenth birthday present. The one that Buffy had never known that she had. She had to go talk to Oliver.

end part 11.


She found her way to Oliver's hotel, and slipped into the lobby, walking past the desk where a clerk dozed by a computer terminal. She couldn't remember if Oliver hade ever mentioned his room number, so she simply felt for the presence of magic, assuming that there wouldn't be to many magic users in the hotel. In fact, there was only one room that felt as if there was any magic present, and she headed towards it quickly, before she could change her mind.

She tapped at the door of room 128, whispering as she did. "Oliver? Are you here? I need to talk to you."

The door opened, revealing Oliver, dressed in a pair of slacks and a grey shirt, his hair slightly rumpled. "Willow? It's a bit late... But I have time." He stepped away from the hall, opening the door as he did, a gesture inviting her in, but carefully not using the actual words, as if afraid that Spike might have turned her.

With a small smile, she stepped into the hotel room, smiling faintly as Oliver shut the door. "He told me once that hotels didn't count as a private residence. But, you know, points for effort."

Oliver looked up, an expression of worry on his face. Willow gave a little grin, and gestured at the mirror, where her reflection was just as nervous as she was. "Umm, see? I still reflect, still alive and breathing. But it's something that he told me once. Did you really mean it when you said that you could arrange for me to go to a real magic school?"

"Right, reflections are good. I'm still not used to having so... so many oportunities to practice the things from my Defense classes. There seem to be quite a few things the Professors we had didn't mention. I got a message back from Dumbledore, he's the Headmaster of Hogwarts, my old school. He said that he'd be quite pleased if you came to Hogwarts, and there was something about considering starting a program for undergraduate students, possibly to teach them what they need to be Professors some day. How soon can you leave? Not that I'm trying to rush you..." He sounded a bit flustered, as if he wasn't quite certain how to react to the simple fact that she was in his room.

Willow sat in the nearer chair, tucking her feet under herself. "I turned in my final project for my computer class already. I can probably arrange to take the other two online... I mentioned a possible family emergency that would require me to leave the state. Said emergency being Buffy just might try to kill me over this... and Tara is... but I don't want to go there. I packed my things, Spike and I can leave any time now."

Oliver settled into the other chair, looking at her. "Is the vampire really in danger as well? I mean, how much danger could he be in?"

"You have to remember that we didn't plan this. There was this... military base hidden under the college, and they captured vampires and demons to do these freaky experiments on them. They put a chip in his head, and it made it so that he couldn't feed, couldn't hurt humans at all. Not even to defend himself. Considering how Buffy and Xander don't like him and think he'd be ever so much more convenient dusted... I can't let him stay here." Her voice was filled with tangled emotions and memories.

For a few moments Oliver just stared at her without speaking. "Chips to keep vampires from hurting people... and you're trying to keep him safe. Seems a bit unusual, but if he's your friend... Has anyone ever told you that you have very odd friends?"

"All the time." She sighed, and then pulled out her other cell phone, the one that she'd carefully programmed Angel's number into and a few other numbers that she didn't want Buffy to know about. "Let me just call the college professors... I'll leave them voice mail."

Oliver watched as she called two professors, her voice sounding strained, as if she was trying not to cry as she spoke into the phone. When she finally ended her last call, there were actually tears slowly rolling down her cheeks.

As if she felt the question he had managed to swallow, she spoke again, her voice quiet and full of emotions; pain, sorrow, regret. "We were a family once, Buffy and Xander and me, with Giles as the father we'd rather have. But things changed somewhere, and now... I feel like I'm running away from home. Except that it doesn't feel like home anymore. Home should feel safe, it should be the place that you can be yourself, and I don't feel that way here anymore."

"Do you have a plan for getting us out of Sunnydale?" Oliver's voice was curious, as if he was wondering just how much planning Willow had put into things.

"Immediately out of Sunnydale, yes. To this school of yours, no. I'm not even sure exactly where it is, or how to get across the Atlantic yet. I left my car by Spike's cemetery so he could load a few things. We go there, get my car, and I drive us out of town. Simple." Willow gave a small smile for her plan.

Oliver simply shook his head, as if thinking over something. "I only have a few more things to pack. Think you can help by passing a few things?"

Eventually, Oliver's two large wooden trunks had been repacked with all of his possessions. Willow was looking at them, trying to figure out exactly where in her car she could possibly fit them. She might be able to fit one of them into the trunk, but then where could Spike hide from the sun?

Pulling his wand, Oliver grinned at her. "I have a nice little spell for that." He pointed the wand at the trunks, and spoke a short phrase, and the trunks began to shrink, each trunk ending up about the same size as a pair of cigarette cartons stacked on top of each other. Oliver then simply picked them up and placed them into the pocket of his jacket.

Willow was staring in amazement. "Will I learn how to do that at this school?"

"Of course you will. Not to mention the proper way to ride a broom. Hey, it's not that hard!" He looked amused by Willow's nervous expression. "You'll learn a lot from the varius teachers. I can take you to Diagon Alley, we can get you a proper wand and all your supplies."

Willow gave a small smile, one that she hoped made him think that his words gave her confidence. Pulling her cell phone out once more, dialling up the number for the disposable cell phone that Spike had purchased. "Spike? Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"I'm talking to Oliver, we're planning to get out of town. Can we meet back at your place?"

"He's got a way to minimize the luggage. You... what? Umm, yeah, I talked to Giles, and there really is a thing like we described. He was going to call Buffy and have her look for it."

She smiled at something he said, her lips twitching as she fought not to laugh. "Right... Which makes this the ideal time to leave, she won't even notice that we're gone."

"Okay, we can be there in a half hour. See you then." She was smiling as she ended the phone call.

Looking over at Oliver, she noticed how he seemed to be amused. "We can go now, meet Spike at the cemetery, get my car... no problems. Buffy's even done with her stuff and won't be out where she could see us. Spike is all in favor of leaving Sunnydale now. Shall we be off to the cemetery now?"

Oliver held out his arm, walking out the side door with her. He was walking close to her, a slightly bemused expression on his face. "I never would have believed it if someone had told me that I would be walking with an untrained witch to go meet a vampire in a cemetery so that we could leave the country."

"You make it sound like I'm dragging you into a life of crime or something. We're just leaving town. The crime was earlier... oh, wait, we didn't." Willow was smiling at him, feeling almost giddy as she gently teased Oliver.

Spike was waiting for them, leaning against Willow's car. The end of his cigarette glowed red in the darkness. "There you are. Been waiting."

Willow just smiled at Spike. "That is because you refuse to be patient. It's your biggest weakness when it comes to your diabolical plans."

Spike just laughed. After all, she was right, so how could he argue?

end part 12.


Willow drove the car for a ways, until they had left the Sunnydale area, having muttered something about not trusting Spike and Sunnydale signs. Judging from the way Spike had chuckled, Oliver figured that it had been some sort of in-joke. It was obvious to him that however it had begun, the vampire was undeniably Willow's friend. There could certainly be less useful friends, he supposed.

As they were driving, Spike looked at Oliver, his expression a bit amused. "So, where are we headed to? Red said something about a school, somewhere that she could learn to control her magic, but she didn't tell me any more."

"Hogwarts. It up in northern England, almost in Scotland if you want to be precise. There are powerful spells up over the grounds to keep muggles, non-magical folk that is, from finding the grounds. They can help her learn to control her powers, but we'll be making a stop in London first, got to pick up some supplies for her at a place called Diagon Alley." Oliver's voice filled the car, painting a picture of a hopeful future.

"Diagon Alley, hmm? That sounds a bit familiar... connects to Knockturn, right? Has this goblin bank, Gringotts? Remind me to get some cash from there, got a family vault. Darla was a firm believer in investment... probably the only thing I've got to be grateful to her about." Spike sounded happy, and a bit wistful. "It'll be good to be in London again."

"Knockturn Alley isn't the sort of place that respectable wizards go. To many shops that sell things for the Dark, potions to cause harm, Dark artifacts, that sort of thing. I think they carry some of the poisons for some magical creatures as well." Oliver's voice sounded a bit disapproving.

"I was never a respectable wizard, so I don't have anything to loose. Sounds like most of your lot would call me something of the Dark anyhow. Dru liked some of the trinkets, got herself some cards to look into the future, and a mirror. There was also this great little pub along there about a hundred and twenty years ago... but I don't think it would appeal to either of you. More of a vampire and demon sort of place... had a few Hags, if I remember right."

Willow found herself giggling, despite the fact that Spike's words hadn't actually been amusing. "Big Bad Vampire, remember? Was the mirror really magic? Goblins running the bank?"

Oliver grinned at her from the passenger seat. "Of course the bank is run by goblins. Only a desperate crazed fool would try anything against them. They have all sorts of ways to keep peoples treasures safe."

Spike seemed a bit amused as well. "I really don't know if the mirror was magic or not. She packed it into the bottom of a trunk, and covered it over with some of her dolls. Yeah, I AM the big bad." the murmur that followed was just soft enough that the two mortals couldn't catch all of his words. "... not going entirely soft. I'm still a master vampire, still the child of... No stupid army project..."

They debated what radio station to listen to, comparing the relative merits and problems of each one, although in Oliver's case it was more opinions based on the few moments of airtime caught for each one. It was a good natured discussion, the sort where nobody got terribly upset, regardless of whose choice prevailed at what time. Perhaps the main idea was to simply pass the time, to prevent boredom from claiming them on the drive.

Eventually, Oliver suggested that they stop at a small shop, the sort that had paint peeling from the walls, dirty windows filled with strange objects. Willow was a bit curious, wondering exactly why Oliver had suggested pulling into the little place. One faded wooden sign proclaimed 'World Travel' while another proclaimed 'beetle eyes and more!' in faded green letters.

The three of them went inside, Oliver walking with a mixture of confidence and hope, Willow trailing with curiosity and looking intently at everything they passed, the eclectic assortment of almost normal looking objects like cups and teapots, the tiny figures of animals that looked as if they could move, trays with beads and feathers, including a glass case with a feather that appeared to be wrapped in shimmering red and orange flames. Spike had sauntered inside as well, looking caught between boredom and curiosity. Oliver went straight to the back, where there was an old woman with wavy grey hair piled onto her head, wearing a long pale green dress and something partway between a robe and an overdress of a darker green with a leafy pattern, belted with a dark brown strip of leather. She looked at Oliver, and frowned slightly, as if inspecting him.

"Is there something that you wanted?"

"Yes Ma'am. I was wondering if I could arrange some travel, for three people and a car." Oliver's voice was polite, with a bit of hope.

"Hmm... not from around here, are you? Where did you want to go?" The woman glanced over, eyeing Willow and Spike. "Don't touch the feather, dearie. It's rather hot. As for you, blondie, you'd best be careful with those knives. I keep them sharp."

Oliver tried to hide a smile at the woman's comments, not quite succeeding. He slid the tip of his wand into view, a discrete effort to let the woman know that he was a wizard. "We'd like to go to London, quickly and with as little chance of being followed as possible. That's why we need the car, to keep people from looking here."

"I can arrange that, but it will cost you. How fast do you need to go?" Her voice was rather calm.

Willow wandered over, having followed the woman's advice and not touched the feather. "How much would it cost?"

The woman looked at Willow as if trying to read into her. "What are you running from? You'd best not be playing games with Dark Arts..."

Willow shook her head. "No, I haven't done anything wrong. It's just... the life I had back home fell apart, and one of my closest friends seems to have slipped her rocker. I can't stay there, so... I asked for a good place to go."

"Fast and quiet doesn't come cheaply. That would probably run you about twenty thousand, in Muggle dollars. I can convert that to Galleons, if you like, young man." The woman was looking at them, as if she was still trying to gauge their motivations.

Oliver made a surprised noise, looking rather stunned. Spike was looking over at them now, having probably been listening to the whole conversations.

Willow simply nodded. "Will you take a personal check?"

The matter was arranged rather quickly after that, and the woman was quite willing to take a check. Mrs. Lawson made a few telephone calls, fiddled a bit with a few things, and pronounced everything prepared. All they would have to do would be drive into the garage door, and it would take them to London, in a Wizard district. After that, they would be on their own. It was an arrangement they found agreeable.

Spike put himself into the trunk, uncertain what time it was in London, but feeling that caution would be better than sunburn in this case. Oliver slid behind the wheel, the reasoning being that Willow wouldn't know where anything was in London, while he had a chance. Carefully, Oliver drove towards the garage door, smiling a bit as Willow closed her eyes nervously. "So, how did you have that much money laying around to spend on travel?"

"Some inheritances from distant relatives, a few investments, and I sold a few computer programs. If it helps, I'm not broke yet." She sounded as if she was afraid to look, fearing either disastrous crashing or nausea during the transportation.

Oliver drove into the location of the door, and the temporary portkey spell kicked in, sending them to London with a rather sudden and forceful lurching of their stomachs. Maybe Willow hadn't been to unreasonable with her nervousness, that had been the roughest crossing that he'd ever experienced.

"Welcome to London, Willow. We'll get temporary rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, pick up some things for you in Diagon Alley, and be off to Hogwarts. Everything will be just fine." His voice was cheerful.

"I hope so. I really hope that everything will be alright. I'm just afraid that I'll have a lot to learn." Willow's voice wasn't quite as nervous as it had been before, but not nearly as confident as Oliver's had been.

She would just have to see how things developed. With luck, everything would be good. She would learn the control that she so desperately needed, and nobody would be making a hobby out of trying to kill her. Maybe she'd even be safe from potential end-of-the-world demons. She felt a small smile settle onto her face. For once, the future actually felt promising.


end part 13. End Finding the Path.