Chapter 4: Healing

Cornwall, England, 2003.

Giles sat down on the couch in the house he was renting for the summer. "Did you get in touch with Buffy?" came a voice from the doorway. Giles glanced up at the red-haired witch and slowly shook his head. "No," he admitted tiredly. It was the sixth time he'd rung Buffy's house that week.

"Something's wrong," Willow said softly. Giles didn't bother asking how she knew. He could feel it too, and with Willow it would only be stronger.

"What should we do?" he asked. "I can't keep calling and calling, we have to find some way to contact them. They have to know about the coven's prediction as soon as possible."

Willow picked up the piece of paper on which a few words and a symbol was scrawled.

"We could go to them," she suggested quietly.

Giles glanced at her. "Do you think you're ready to leave the coven?" he asked her.

There was a pause. Willow had changed considerably since Tara's death and her magical breakdown. She was much quieter and rarely smiled. Giles hated to see the perky Willow fade into a shadow of her former self, but he knew that only time could heal the pain from Tara's death. The English coven had told him Willow was completely recovered from her magical trauma but her emotional wounds were ones that she would have to let heal slowly.

Willow nodded slowly. "I'd like to see the gang again," she said with a hint of a smile. "And this prophecy thing is important, right?"

Giles nodded. Important was putting it lightly. Buffy could be in real danger.

"Now all we need to do is find them," he said with a sigh, and a sideways glance at Willow. He had a particular spell in mind, but he wasn't sure how she'd feel about using powerful magic again so soon. Would it be too painful, or healthy to begin using magic for good again? Giles removed his glasses thoughtfully and polished them with a handkerchief.

"Giles," said Willow. He looked up to see an amused gleam in her eye, something that hadn't been there for a while.

"What is it? You know I can tell when you've got something on your mind," she continued.

He shifted uncomfortably. "There's a spell," he began carefully. "I'm sure you would have heard of it. Similar to a simple locater spell, but we can actually transport ourselves to Buffy--"

"I've heard of it," interrupted Willow. "But I can't-- Giles, I'm--"

"I know," said Giles. "But you wouldn't have to do much at all. As you know, the spell requires the power of twelve witches, and I don't expect you to be one of them. I've spoken to the coven, and they agree that this prophecy is of paramount importance. They're willing to provide us with the magic."

Willow was silent for a second. "You mean you went behind my back to the coven? You didn't even ask me first?"

Giles had been expecting this. "If the coven had refused to help us, as I suspected they would, then there would have been no use even giving you any ideas. Besides, I didn't know how you would feel about being involved in such a powerful spell."

"If this is the spell I'm thinking of, the coven will provide us with grounding magic, and act as our base while we're in the unstable state, right? But I'll have to provide some of the power."

"Not necessarily," Giles said quietly. "If you don't feel able to do that, one of the witches could come with us."

"No," said Willow. "I want to give it a try. And-- and I--". She broke off, but Giles knew what she was trying to say. Finding Buffy and the others and helping them might alleviate some of her guilt. Maybe it would be a way of proving that she was still Willow, one of the gang, there to help them. Useful. Good.

"The more I think about it, the more I think we need to find Buffy," Willow said. "And Dawn, and Xander I don't seriously think anything terrible has happened, but maybe they've had to go and hide out somewhere. Oh, I don't know. It's just weird, Giles."

He nodded in agreement. "It is weird. I'll speak to the coven tomorrow. We should be able to implement the spell in the next two or three days." He paused, and they looked at each other. "I'll just try calling her again," Giles muttered, and picked up the phone. There was no answer again.

************************************

Joshua's house, Seattle, 2020

The gang looked around in obvious curiosity at Joshua's house. It was very messy, but in a comfortable kind of way. Anya was looking at a beautiful painting of a young girl which was leaning against a sideboard. "That's beautiful," she said out loud, but everybody else was stepping forward to meet a blond man with glasses.

Max made the introductions. "Logan, this is Buffy." They shook hands. Buffy liked the look of him. He reminded her of Giles in a strange kind of way. Max paused, slightly embarrassed at not knowing the others' names.

Xander quickly stepped forward and offered Logan his hand. "Xander. This is Buffy's sister Dawn, and this is Anya."

Logan smiled warmly but gave Max a slightly puzzled look. Who exactly were these people?

"Are you one of those transvestites?" asked Anya, peering at him curiously.

"Anya!" cried Dawn in shame. But nobody seemed to mind, in fact, it broke the ice as they all laughed.

"Come and sit down," said Logan. "Make yourselves at home. And no, I'm not a transvestite or a transgenic " - with another quick glance at Max.

They made themselves comfortable on the rickety old couches. "I don't really know how to begin," said Max.

"Let me start," said Buffy.

"Ok. And you can tell Logan everything. He knows about the transgenics. We go way back," Max added, and she and Logan exchanged looks.

Buffy thought back, hoping fervently that they wouldn't think she was a nutter. "Basically, we were chasing Spike - that's our uma friend of ours--"

"Spike's a vampire," interrupted Xander. "But he's got this chip, you see, which--"

"-- stops him from hurting humans--" Anya was determined to contribute.

Buffy tried again. "And we met a demon, and I fought it, but we felt this weird breeze thingy, and then I was about to kill another demon, and that Mole guy came along and assumed that I was a soldier--"

"Hang on," interjected Logan. "Did you say you fought a demon?"

Dawn tried to explain. "Demons are weird creatures. Supernatural. Haven't you ever seen anything which looks kinda funny down in the sewers, or in a dark alleyway or anywhere?"

Logan looked confused, wondering if these people were referring to transgenics. Xander turned to Buffy. "Buff, maybe they don't have demons in Seattle."

Buffy was just launching into an explanation when Anya stood up, bored. "Could you direct me to your bathroom, please?" she asked Logan, wondering if they even had one in this hole.

"Sure," said Logan, pointing down the hall. "Second door on your right." They went back to their conversation.

Anya took the opportunity to have a bit of a snoop around the house. There was a lot of artwork lying around, and a door down the end of the hall that looked like it might lead to an interesting basement. She contemplated seeing if there was another hellmouth down there, but decided she couldn't be bothered. Lost in thought, she opened the bathroom door and was confronted with a sight she would never forget.

The house lacked many things Anya was used to having in a house: a functioning oven, a couple of doorknobs here and there, lampshadesBut its most important feature to Anya at that moment was its lack of locks on bathroom doors, and also a shower curtain.

Standing in the shower with his eyes closed, soaping his toned body and running his hands through his dark wet hair, was the most gorgeous naked man Anya had ever seen. Everything about him was smooth, muscly and powerful. He had the sort of chest you'd want to lick, and the sort of arms you'd want to have around you. Out of a bizarre sense of propriety Anya tried her hardest not to look at his groin, but when he turned halfway around, still with his eyes closed, she stared longingly at his delicious back muscles and used all her will power not to let her eyes wander too much.

Suddenly Alec's heightened senses kicked in and he sensed that someone else was in the room. Opening his eyes, he stepped into a fighting stance, forgetting that he was completely naked. And wet.

Anya yelped, and flushed bright red. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I--" she covered her eyes with her hand, but peeked around the side, blushing again.

Alec thought for a second, and then decided that he was in no danger. Then he realised the cause of her embarrassment, and reached for a towel, blushing a little himself.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know anyone was in the house," he said.

Anya flailed around, trying to find the doorway with her eyes covered. "It's completely my fault. I didn't realise anyone was in here. Excuse me ". She finally found the doorway and staggered out, panting a little.

Alec caught site of himself in the mirror: semi-naked, wet, and very bemused looking. Who was that girl?

When Anya returned to the living room, everything had been explained. Neither Max nor Logan thought Buffy and the others were a bunch of lunatics. In fact, Logan had even heard of the Watcher's Council and the Slayer, although he had thought it was a bit of a myth. They were trying to work out how the Scoobies had time-travelled, although Xander and Dawn were more interested in finding out what the future was like.

"Is the Jerry Springer Show still running?"

"Do they have technology to read our minds yet?"

"Are there more new Gatorade flavours?"

"Is that whole peasant fashion craze over yet?"

Only Dawn noticed that Anya was a little flushed when she returned to the living room. "Are you okay?" she asked in concern. "I'm fine, Dawnie," said Anya, patting her absently on the knee. Absolutely fine."

[A/N: please, please review].