***

There should have been embarrassment. Awkwardness. Uncomfortableness. Anything at all in Willow other than a feeling of contentment upon waking up and realizing that she was, well, *upon* Spike. Curled up on his chest and legs like he was a mattress. But there weren't any of those other feelings, and as her mind showed her glimpses of what had lead up to this, she couldn't even be sorry. She looked down at him and smiled a little.

"Hi," she whispered.

Spike reached up and brushed her hair back from her face, his hand almost, but not quite, lingering. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

"At the moment? Good."

She looked into his eyes and wanted to say thank you, and sorry, and a whole lot of other things. But when she opened her mouth, he shook his head. "Save it for Angel," he advised with a grin.

Angel. Definitely that conversation wouldn't be fun. At all. Not wanting to think about that just yet, Willow laid her head back down on Spike's chest. Her hand curled under her chin and she rubbed her fingers against his collarbone. He went still, but when she snuggled down, his hand crept to her head to pet her hair.

A half an hour later, her stomach demanded food. Loudly. Spike tipped his head down. "Hungry, huh?"

"Apparently," she murmured, not really wanting to move.

Spike took matters into his own hands, sitting up and taking her with him as he did so. Willow made a face, then started to stand up.

"Stay put," Spike said. "I'll get you something."

Willow's eyes widened. She started to ask him why he would do such a thing, then thought better of it and closed her mouth. "Thanks," she said instead, smiling widely.

He went still again, blinking slowly, then smiled back.

Willow curled back up on the couch, snickering as the sounds of Spike's cursing made its way to her ears. She was a little twitchy, and still not entirely settled after the horrendous nightmares that had gripped her. Chewing her lip for a moment, she stared at the doorway to the dining room, then shrugged and got to her feet.

Spike frowned when she entered the kitchen. "I told you to stay put," he griped. Willow was about to respond when he held up a slice of wrapped cheese. "Is this the only cheese we have? Processed shite?"

"Um, yeah," she replied, tilting her head to the side and looking at the frying pan he'd taken out. "What are you making?"

Spike shrugged and peeled the wrapper off the cheese slice. "Grilled cheese. What are you doing in here? Don't trust me?"

Willow mirrored his shrug, and stared down at the floor. "I just didn't like being in the living room alone. Am I bothering you in here?"

There was a pause. "No, pet. Not bothering me at all," he assured her lowly. Then his voice took on a more natural Spike tone. "You're going to suffer another defeat tonight. Jeopardy," he clarified when she looked up in confusion. "Gonna wipe the floor with you. Again."

Willow narrowed her eyes and sat at the table, bringing her knees to her chest. "I don't think so," she countered. "I'm due for a win, and I feel lucky." She glared at him. "And I still think you should have to give your answer in the form of a question."

"It's not my fault you've allowed yourself to be programmed to only respond in question form," he argued as he put together a sandwich.

"But those are the *rules*," she insisted. "The whole basis of the game, in fact! You can't just toss the rules aside."

Spike turned and slanted a look at her. "Really? And just why not?" he asked archly.

Willow watched him set two sandwiches in the frying pan, which was already buttered and heated up. "Well...you just can't. If everyone did that, there'd be anarchy. Chaos, even. Rules are good, you know."

She had another point to make, but she heard the sounds of the vampires moving around upstairs, and she went silent, her eyes drifting up to stare at the ceiling.

"Not going to change my mind," Spike told her. "Break yourself of the habit, and maybe you'll be able to get your answer out before me."

"Cheater," she mumbled, dropping her eyes. They fell silent, and Willow wondered if it would be exceedingly cowardly of her to flee the house before Angel made an appearance. She really didn't want to have to explain what she'd done, and there was no way around it anymore.

She eyed Spike and thought that he wouldn't be nearly as upset as Angel. Or upset at all. So far she hadn't seen any anger, or annoyance, or irritation about what she'd been keeping from them. Instead, there was just this calmness to him. Unusual enough in Spike, to be sure. But during this trip, he'd reacted to every stupid, foolish, or thoughtless thing that she'd done. Which meant that he either agreed with her keeping the vampires out of the loop, or....

Or something else. Something she decided was best not considered at the moment, when for all she knew Angel was still going to send her home.

A plate clattered on the table in front of her. Spike sat across from her and lit a cigarette. "Eat up," he told her.

The grilled cheese was good, and Willow didn't know if she was surprised or not. Grilled cheese wasn't all that difficult, but Spike had managed to rescue it from the frying pan in that perfect state of goldenness, touched around the edge with dark brown, and not at all burnt. That took, if not skill, then at least some familiarity with the task.

"Yum," she said, smacking her lips. "Better than even my best attempt at grilled cheese."

He cocked his head to the side and grinned at her. "One time only thing," he informed her. "Not happening again."

She set her face in disappointed lines. "Darn," she exclaimed. "And here I was hoping you'd start making me food all the time. Living in the kitchen. Barefoot with a 'Kiss the Chef' apron on."

He gave her a two-finger salute, and she laughed. "Relax," she assured him. "I appreciate it, but I don't expect it ever again."

Spike eyed her suspiciously, and then nodded. "Good. Long as we're clear on it."

A few minutes later, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Willow swallowed her last bite of grilled cheese and then fidgeted, eyes pinned on the entryway into the kitchen. Angel looked grim and angry as he stalked into the room, a grinning Drusilla and a blank-faced Dev following him in. Willow brought her plate to the sink, squared her shoulders, then turned around and faced Angel.

"Hi," she said calmly.

If anything, Angel's anger increased at her greeting. Clearing her throat nervously, Willow looked at Spike; his lips were the slightest bit upturned, even though the rest of his face remained bland.

"Living room," Angel bit out, then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

The atmosphere in the kitchen lightened considerably with his departure.

"Really don't want to be you right about now," Dev commented. "Papa Bear's been fuming all day."

Drusilla drifted over to Willow, her face soft and her eyes shining. "We were worried, precious. You mustn't do that again."

Willow smiled. "I'll try not to, Dru. It wasn't much fun for me, either."

Spike got to his feet and nodded towards the living room. "Come on, then. Time to face firing squad."

"Right," Willow replied. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then the four of them made their way into the living room.

Angel was standing by the television, a tower of simmering emotions. Willow timidly shuffled to the sofa and sat down, Spike and Dru sitting on either side of her. It seemed like a sign of solidarity, though she couldn't be sure. Either way, she was glad she wasn't there by herself. Dev eyed Angel, then the sofa, and carefully sat on the loveseat, in between both of them.

"How long?" Angel asked tightly.

Willow didn't pretend to not know what he was asking. "Since just after the healing spell. It took a bit out of me, and I guess it was the opening they needed."

"How bad?"

Willow sighed. "Not very." Angel's eyes narrowed. "Usually," she amended. "That was about a hundred times worse than it's ever been."

Angel nodded just once. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Okay, so it was an interrogation and not a discussion. Right. "I was afraid you'd tell me to take the shield down," Willow answered. "And we needed it up."

Angel's hands clenched into fists. "You don't have the right to make a decision like that on your own."

Willow went still. "The hell I don't," she said angrily. "I'm the only one it affected, so it *was* my choice to make. And it's horrible, yes, but it's not dangerous."

"Not dangerous?" he growled. "It's torture, and the purpose of it is to get you to lower the shield. Not to mention that you would have smashed your head in yesterday if we hadn't stopped you."

"I didn't lower the shield, and I'm not going to," Willow reminded him reasonably. "What you saw? That's the max that they can do. They can't track us, and they can't reach Dev."

Angel was about to say something else when Dev spoke up. "How?"

Willow frowned. "Huh?"

"How am I unaffected?" she clarified. "We're both under the shield. It's like an...umbrella. It should be affecting me, too."

"Oh," Willow muttered. "That."

Next to her, Spike groaned. "Bloody hell."

"Willow," Angel said very, very carefully. "What did you do?"

"It's hard to explain," she hedged.

"Try."

"I kind of separated Dev from me, magically. Then I covered up any traces of my magic that were on her."

Angel stared at her silently, and Dev gasped. "Damn! You split your magic in half. That's--damn."

Willow thought it best not to mention that it wasn't split in *half* but in *two*.

"Any and all attacks went to you, and only you," Spike realized.

"I had to," Willow told them. "They were reaching Dev, and it was upsetting her so much that she was fighting the healing spell. Once I did the split? Well, she started coming along really well. It worked."

Angel's eyes were glittering furiously, and Willow crossed her arms. "I'm not sorry, and I'm not undoing it," she told him stubbornly.

"The attacks wont' stop," Dev told her, studying Willow's face.

"I know. But what's the sense in two of us dealing with them?"

Dev continued examining Willow's face, then her own went slack with dawning horror. "Oh god," Dev rasped out. "The images I was seeing when I was unconscious. That's what *you're* seeing."

Swallowing thickly, Willow looked away. "Pretty much," she confirmed.

"Shit, Willow," Dev said heavily. "You should reverse it. Route it *all* to me. I've already lived through it; I can handle it."

Silence fell, and Willow refused to look up, even though she could feel everyone's gazes on her. "Willow," Spike said sharply. She fidgeted for a moment, then looked up at his tight face. "You're seeing Dev's torture?"

She nodded, then shook her head. "It's all really...vague, and disjointed."

Yes, she was clearing up the old lies and replacing them with a half-truth. But it would keep the vampires from having even more of a conniption fit than they were already having. Angel rubbed the back of his neck and then moved to the loveseat to sit next to Dev. His body sank down tiredly.

"You can't go back home," he said eventually.

"I can, actually," she countered uncertainly.

He gave her a look. "I'm not sending you home to deal with this on your own, and we still can't let anyone else know what's going on."

Willow hesitated, and then nodded. Truthfully, if even a portion of what she was remembering from the previous day was correct, she didn't want to deal with it alone anymore than Angel wanted her to.

"You have to stop," Dev said drolly, raising her brows at Willow. "Keep it up, and pretty soon I'll owe you my firstborn."

"Which means she'll never get paid," Spike snorted.

"I'd offer my first sired," Dev said consideringly, "but that would be difficult since I dusted him last year."

"Oh, nice," Spike snapped. "And after the hell you raised to keep *me* from staking the tosser." He pointed at her. "You owe me an argument."

Dev nodded. "Fine. You get an automatic win. Just call it."

"Are we all squared away, then?" Spike asked Angel. "Cause, if so, then it's time for Jeopardy."

Willow started, her eyes flying to the clock. "I slept that long?" she moaned. "Geez."

"Yeah, you two slept that long," Dev confirmed slyly. "Lucky he doesn't have circulation, or else his entire body would be numb right about now."

Feeling herself color profusely, Willow stared down at her lap.

"Done?" Spike asked archly.

"Done," Angel said in defeat. Willow glanced up and saw him get to his feet. "Don't keep anything else to yourself, Will," he told her. "I mean it."

She nodded. "Okay."

"We're going out, precious," Drusilla sang. "You can come next time."

"Angel's letting me out in the wild," Dev drawled, standing. "Under his watchful eye, of course. Sweetness wasn't about to be left home. I'm going to do some shopping, since I've got nothing with me."

Willow eyed the clothes Dev was currently wearing. "You can keep the jeans."

"She wears them properly," Spike said approvingly, and Willow glared at him. "Now get the hell out of here, yeah? It's time for Jeopardy."

He took the remote from the coffee table and switched the television on. Drusilla wafted to her feet and joined the others.

"We'll be back before dawn," Angel announced. "Call if you need anything, or if Wesley calls with anything new."

Willow nodded and Spike called out an absent "bye", his eyes fixed on the television.

They watched Jeopardy, and they tied. Spike got all the history questions. Willow got the long awaited science and nature questions. They split geography and entertainment down the middle. Willow was actually quite pleased. It wasn't a win, but it wasn't a loss.

She was also quite in the mood for a shower. She'd been sweating during the nightmares, apparently, and her skin felt more than a little gross. And she really needed to brush her teeth. It was surprising that Spike hadn't said anything yet.

"I'm going to shower," she told Spike, getting to her feet. He waved her away as he flipped through the channels, and she grinned in appreciation of the normalcy of the action.

She lingered in the shower, washing her hair twice and letting the condition sit while she took care of the rest of the necessities. The water was hot, and her skin was red by the time she stepped out and dried off. She pulled on her pajamas and wrung the excess water from her hair with a smaller towel. As she was gathering her discarded clothing, she knocked over a bottle of lotion and it bounced loudly on the floor. She put it back on the counter and opened the bathroom door.

Spike was there, face tense and eyes alert. "I heard something," he told her. "A crash."

Blinking, Willow looked behind her at the lotion bottle, then back at Spike. "I dropped something, that's all," she told him slowly.

"Oh. I thought..." He looked away, and Willow's heart jumped.

"Not a freak out," she assured him quietly. "I swear. I don't think it'll happen again as long as I sleep regularly and don't get drained."

He relaxed and nodded. "Good."

They stood there for a while, at first in awkwardness, but then in something else entirely. Their eyes locked and they just stared at one another. "Thank you," Willow whispered eventually.

Spike took a step closer and shook his head, eyes not leaving hers. "Don't have to thank me, pet," he whispered back. His hand came up hesitantly, dropping every so often only to continue lifting, and finally his fingers grazed the nail marks on her face. "Should put something on these."

"They're fine," Willow said softly.

His fingers drifted from one mark to another, and Willow finally reached up to take his hand in hers. She laced her fingers through his and his eyes settled on their entwined hands, something soft and surprised coming to Spike's features.

"Thank you," she said again, and he raised his eyes to her. She let their joined hands fall to their side, and stepped forward to lean her head against his chest.

It was stupid. She knew it. Angel wasn't sending her home, but that changed nothing, really. Eventually she'd go home, and Spike would go...wherever. And this little lull in their lives would come to an end. It was going to be hard enough to deal with as it was, and she really shouldn't complicate it.

But it was too late, and she knew that as well. It had gotten complicated when Spike had lain with her on the couch. It had gotten complicated when Willow hadn't pushed things back to normal when she'd woken up sprawled on top of him. So then he'd made her food, and now she was leaning against him with her eyes closed, and it was too late for anything sane to enter back into the equation.

Spike wrapped his free arm around the small of her back and pulled her close, and they stayed that way for minutes, or hours, or years. Until finally his arm moved from her back, and then he was tipping her face up with his hand.

"Suppose I should fill you in on what Angel was keeping from you," he murmured.

"That'd be nice," she acknowledged.

They made their way downstairs and settled on the sofa, and it wasn't until he was halfway through Dev's escape story that Willow realized they were still holding hands.

***

"So, you're mad because she was right?"

Angel tried to stay calm. "No, I'm mad because she hid what she did."

Dev rolled her eyes and absently reached out to snag Dru's arm when the other vampire would have wandered off. She linked her arm through Dru's, then arched a brow at Angel.

"I don't see what it matters," she said reasonably. "Either you would have told her to do it, in which case we'd be in the same situation. Or you would have told her not to do it, in which case, she would have done it anyway and we'd be in the same situation." She veered to the right. "In here, Papa Bear."

"Stop. Calling. Me. That."

Dark blue eyes glittered up at him. "Never and a day," she said fancifully, walking with Dru into a store called Hot Topic.

"Christ," Angel muttered, looking around.

"Yeah, it's pretty horrid," Dev conceded. "But since that Army-Navy store closes so early, we were stuck coming to a mall. This is the lesser of all evils contained herein--and only marginally." She let go of Dru's arm, and they kept a careful eye on the other vampire as Dev headed to a rack of pants. "Though it would be amusing to head back to the house with a slew of Gap bags," she mused. "That'd really put Spike in a mood."

Angel lowered his brows, and she held up her hands. "I wouldn't, I wouldn't."

A few minutes later she had three pairs of pants she found acceptable, and two pairs that she thought Willow would look good in. Angel shook his head. "She wouldn't wear them," he said immediately.

Dev shrugged and put them back. "I figured. Her taste *is* mall-ish."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Drusilla talking to someone behind the counter, and made his way over. "--that pretty bauble there," she finished, tapping a nail against the glass.

Angel looked down at what she was pointing at, then nudged her in Dev's direction. "Go help Dev. I'll get the bauble," he assured her.

The salesperson blinked, then shook his head. "Uh, she left without taking whatever she wanted," he murmured. Then his eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. "Can I help you with something, sir?"

Angel had the clerk take out the necklace Drusilla had been pointing at, and had it rung up with the rest of Dev's purchases. "Are we done?" he asked irritably as they walked out of the store.

"Not yet," Dev said sympathetically. She motioned to Angel's other side, and he reeled Dru in before she got too close to the wishing fountain. "One more stop and then we can get the hell out of here. Believe me, it's not much fun for me, either."

Their second and last stop was a ladies underwear store, and Angel backed up until he bumped into a bench. "I'll just wait out here," he mumbled, sitting down in the midst of three other males who'd opted against going inside.

Dev shrugged and tugged Dru inside with her.

The young man next to him tilted his palm out, revealing a small television. "Want to watch the game with me?" he offered.

***

Willow was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table in the living room, typing on her laptop, when Angel, Dev and Dru returned from their outing. Spike was sprawled on the couch, one hand casually playing with a lock of Willow's hair, and the other pointing the remote at the television.

"How was the excursion?" Willow asked cheerfully when she saw them.

"Successful, and just what I needed," Dev said heartily as she went to the sofa and lifted Spike's legs. She sat on the couch and let them drop in her lap. "I was going to get you something," she told Willow. "But Angel told me to put them back."

Willow pouted and looked at Angel. "You denied me presents?"

"Leather pants," he informed her with a small smile.

"In that case, thank you," she replied, shuddering dramatically. "Bad, icky memories of leather pants." She tilted her head, and remembered that in addition to donning them to impersonate her vampire self, she'd always worn a pair in her failed attempt to...well, keep Oz. "And sad memories, too," she tacked on, shaking her head.

"But he didn't make me put mine back, precious," Drusilla sang lightly, reaching into a bag and pulling out a small square of tissue paper. She brought it to Willow, who smiled delightedly and took it.

"Aw, you didn't have to get me something, Dru," she said as she pried up the piece of tape keeping the tissue wrapped around its contents. Inside the pale white tissue was a black-corded necklace with a rather lovely ankh on it. "Oh, wow! I love it."

Drusilla reached for the necklace and smiled as she held it up. "Two that come together and form life," she said vaguely, motioning at Willow to hold up her hair. Willow did so, and Drusilla handed the necklace to Spike. "Put it on her, Spike," she cooed.

"Fine," Spike said, long-suffering. He set the remote down and swung his legs to the side. Willow leaned back and he brought the necklace around the front of her neck, then did the clasp at the back of her neck. "Turn around. Let's have a look at it."

Willow shifted around, banging her knees against the coffee table in the process. She raised a brow at Spike, and he shrugged. "Dru's got good taste. Suits you."

"Cool," Willow said with a grin, then reached over to hug Dru, who was on her knees next to Willow. "Thanks."

Dru returned the smile, and pressed a kiss to Willow's cheek before leaning back.

"I'm surprised you're still up," Angel commented, and Willow shrugged.

"I figured I should try to get back into the routine, so I've been keeping myself awake by typing up the stuff Spike passed on about what I've missed." She frowned at the screen, then looked at Angel. "I don't understand the whole Hwopf thing."

"What part of the Hwopf thing?" he asked.

"Well, why aren't we looking for it anymore?"

"Because it doesn't exist," Dev said testily. Angel stared at her and she sighed. "Fine, it might exist--but I don't think it does since I haven't been able to find it--but even if we could track it down, it probably wouldn't do any good to the situation."

"Okay," Willow said slowly, chewing her lip. "But here's the part that confuses me. The Analects? They point to prophecies and events that, well, star you. Right?" Dev nodded. "From what Wesley noticed, the books that the prophecies are in are pretty much generic. They're not Amalgamated-centric. So how is it that the Analects point to Hwopf, which is supposed to be entirely about you?" She shook her head. "I know it seems silly, but it's a big inconsistency, and things like this are only inconsistent for a reason."

"Beats the hell out of me," Dev said irritably. "Welcome to the eternal question that is my bloody existence."

"I think we're getting off the point, here," Angel put in. "Once this is all done, if you want to help Dev figure some of this out, you can. But unless it has something to do with who took her, and why they wanted the Amalgamated, we can't focus on it."

Willow nodded in agreement, but she had to wonder if maybe it *did* have something to do with their current situation. Because Spike had explained to her just how long and hard Dev had been looking for Hwopf, and how she'd been lured in with details that had made her believe her captors actually had it. And if they did, maybe what was in the compendium was the reason they wanted Dev.

"No word from Wussley," Spike informed Angel. "But one of Dev's people called back."

Angel tensed and glared at Spike. "I told you to call me if that happened."

"You got back before we could," Willow explained. "It was, like, five minutes ago."

"Oh," Angel muttered. "Which one was it?"

"Paul, and he would only talk to you," Willow told him. "His number's on the dining room table."

"Paul's a good one," Dev said with a smile. "Whatever he tells you is bound to be solid. Reliable."

Angel nodded and headed to the dining room. "I'll call him back now."

Willow shut down the laptop and yawned. "I'm going to turn in."

Drusilla tilted her head to the side. "You shouldn't sleep alone, precious. You need your safe place."

Spike and Dev frowned in confusion, but Willow knew what Drusilla was talking about. "I can get there," she mumbled, determinedly not looking in Spike's direction.

Drusilla smiled sadly. "It's not enough," she whispered. "You need--"

"I'll be fine," Willow interrupted her. "Really. Night everyone."

She hurried upstairs, knowing everyone was staring at her, but not caring. Yes, sleep had been easy and fine when her safe place had been replicated in reality--when Spike had been with her. But she was back on an even keel again, and she would be fine. She would.

***

Spike had to force himself not to follow Willow upstairs and shake some sense into her. He wasn't sure what Dru's comment was about, but it didn't matter. There was something else Willow could be doing to keep those bastards from shoving those images into her mind. And she was being too stubborn to do it.

"So," Dev said idly, drawing his gaze away from the stairway.

"What?" Spike asked defensively.

Dev shrugged. "Why aren't you going upstairs?"

There had to be a deity out there that would help a vampire out at times like these. Maybe start a spontaneous fire that grabbed everyone's attention. Or rendered a certain childe of his mouthless so that she couldn't ask questions she had no business asking.

Spike picked up the remote and changed the channel on the television. Dev, however, was too much like him to let something go when it was obviously hitting a nerve. And that was why the two of them had never been able to be in each other's company for long periods of time. Things eventually degenerated to shouting matches and fists before one of them stormed off.

"You always go for what you want," Dev said. "Always. Even if it's about the stupidest thing to do. Even if what you want is the last thing you need. So if you want to go upstairs, then what the hell are you doing sitting down here staring at some guy cutting a can in half with a knife?"

"You know how after about a month of us cohabitating we generally trash wherever we're staying in a magnificent spot of violence?" Spike said irritably, slamming his finger down on the power button to turn the television off. "Well, I feel one of those coming on if you don't shut your bloody mouth."

"You're on your own for that," Dev replied immediately. "I've picked up on how uptight Willow's being about the security deposit, and I owe her too much to add to the damages. But I'll let you off the hook for answering the question, and clue you in on something that you're obviously clueless about."

"Dev," Angel said from the doorway. She ignored him and kept looking at Spike. "That's not a good idea," Angel continued.

Spike couldn't have agreed more. He had the thought that he wasn't going to like what she was about to say. At all. "What did that bloke say?" Spike asked Angel.

"Tell him, Devil," Drusilla sighed.

"Dru!" Angel bit out.

She shrugged and her head lolled to the side. "It's to come out sooner or later."

Spike got to his feet. "Look, feel free to keep on going with this cryptic stuff," he said snidely. "I'm going to drink my dinner."

"Do you realize what you did last night, Spike?" Dev said loudly, causing him to come to a sudden stop.

He lifted a shoulder diffidently. "Calmed her down," he said without inflection. "Helped her get some sleep."

Warning alarms were blaring in his head, because if it was that simple then Dev wouldn't be bringing it up, and Angel wouldn't have been telling her not to bring it up.

"You soothed her," Dev said quietly.

Spike rolled his eyes, then turned on his heel to arch a brow at her. "Isn't that what I said?"

"Spike."

That was Angel, in a very careful voice. The alarm bells grew louder, and he really didn't want to look at Angel, but he did. And the alarms became deafening when he saw Angel's intense look.

"You *Soothed* her," Angel said, and it took Spike a minute to make sense of the words.

"Tell me you're just fucking with my bloody head," he gasped when he understood the import of what Angel had said.

Silence. From everyone. It was all the confirmation that Spike needed.

"You really didn't know you did it?" Angel asked.

"No, I bloody well did *not* know," Spike snarled, and Dev sent a smug look in Angel's direction. Spike grabbed at his stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick. Just when I think nothing can get worse, something else happens."

"Calm down, will you? This isn't necessarily a bad thing, Spike," Dev told him.

Spike gaped at her. "Not necessarily a bad thing?" he exclaimed. "She's *Willow* for fuck's sake!"

"Look," Angel sighed in resignation. "You didn't *try* to Soothe her, you *did* Soothe her."

Spike was smacking his forehead with his palm repeatedly, and it took a moment for Angel's words to sink in. He choked. "Once again, it gets worse."

He made his way in a shocked daze to the stairs and starting climbing them. On the second floor, Willow was making her way from the bathroom to her room, and Spike froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Hey, are you..." she began, but drifted off when Spike just gaped at her. "What's the matter?" she asked with concern. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

Spike managed to shake his head, and he left her staring after him as he went down the hall, making his way to the third bedroom and collapsing on the double bed. "Bloody hell," he muttered, covering his face with his hands.

It was...well, not unheard of, but rare. So damn rare. And now that he thought about it, he could pick out a handful of instances when Willow had Soothed him. When the beat of her heart had changed subtly and he'd calmed down when it was the last thing he was thinking about doing.

And when he thought about last night carefully, he realized that the reason Willow had calmed down, the reason she'd pressed her face against his throat, was because he'd been making a noise that she'd been responding to.

Completely involuntarily. Which was the kicker in all of this. If it were up to Spike, this wouldn't exist. There would be no connection between him and Willow of any kind. None at all. Because, as he'd told the others, she was *Willow* and she was...the poster child for everything that he wasn't. And outside of this little non-real bubble situation they were in, it was highly unlike they'd do anything but revert to their former state of enemies.

But it wasn't up to him, and he didn't know enough about the phenomenon to know how to put an end to it. All he could do was ignore it. Pretend it wasn't there. Even if his throat was currently issuing some kind of cross between a growl and a hum. Damn.

Willow was upset about something. That much he did know about how all of this worked. She was upset, and she didn't want to be. And whether she knew it or not, she was putting out a call. And whether he wanted to or not, he was responding. But just because his throat insisted on making some kind of unnatural noise didn't mean he had to let her hear it.

***

Angel wasn't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way he'd lost control of everyone. Willow had been doing her own thing, Spike wouldn't listen unless Angel forced him to, Drusilla was off in her own little visions, and Dev had apparently decided that she knew what was best for Spike.

"Just tell me why you thought that was a good idea," Angel said tiredly. "Weren't you the one talking about letting him get somewhere on his own?"

Dev busied herself by threading her fingers through Dru's hair. They were still in the living room, trying to let Spike have at least a little bit of time to himself.

"Yeah, but he was playing with her hair. And I think he actually made her food."

Angel rubbed his forehead. How the hell had he forgotten just how difficult it was to deal with these vampires of his? Not to mention Willow, with her stubbornness.

"You've just sent every wall he has slamming into place. Dealing with him isn't going to be fun for any of us, least of all Willow."

Drusilla was lying across Dev's lap, and she slithered into a sitting position. "No walls," she said with certainty.

"See?" Dev said smugly. "No walls. All I've done is give him a little nudge, now he'll take the leap. Simple, non?"

Angel studied her and wondered if she'd actually paid attention to anything he'd told her about the Scooby Gang, if she'd actually listened to Spike's diatribes on the subjects when she'd spoken with him before this incident.

"It's not simple," he said lowly. "It's one more complication on top of a whole pile of complications. Neither one of them need it."

She rolled her eyes. "So says the one who sees only destruction on the horizon and forgets that there's another possible outcome."

Angel was quite suddenly done being the voice of reason. No one appreciated the effort, or heeded it, or even wanted to hear it. "I give up," he murmured.

"Good for you," Dev said with a nod.

***

Spike figured he held out for an hour. During which he was aware of nothing but the noise in his throat, even though he hadn't noticed it the night before. During which he discovered that he couldn't bloody smoke when it was happening. During which he thought about nothing besides what was possibly wrong with Willow. And then he gave up, and he strode down the hall to her room, not allowing himself to think anything.

She'd moved the bed against the wall, and had her back pressed against it. Her arms moved constantly to the empty space next to her, a distressed frown on her sleeping face as her hands found nothing to hold on to.

He took three steps into the room, and the sound reached her ears. The frown left her face and her hands stopped grasping. Spike eyed the bed, then shook his head. No way was he cramming himself into that small space with her. Not when there was a larger space available down the hall.

He brought her, blanket and all, to the third bedroom, and kicked off his boots. Then he laid down, setting her on his right side--the side that had been feeling unaccountably cold since she'd stopped sleeping in the master bedroom with the rest of them. She curled around him immediately, sighing.

Spike tried to continue not thinking, but it was a futile effort. This thing with Willow--whatever it was--it wasn't something he'd wanted, or even thought of. And it wasn't something he thought would turn out even remotely close to okay for either of them. In fact, all things considered, he'd say it was about the last thing he would have wanted.

But it had happened. No matter how much he'd been trying to deny it and ignore it, or how hard he'd been trying to explain it away with hierarchal obligations or--in the case of that frozen moment on the basements stairs when she'd been wearing the orange shirt she had yet to don again-- convenience.

It wasn't about the human who was helping them, or the attractive body being presented to him at just the right time to get a reaction out of him, or someone he didn't hate.

It was about Willow. Hell if he knew how, or when. And right about then, in that quiet, dark room, with her laying across his chest, with the knowledge that it was going to blow up in both their faces--right about then, he felt more centered than he had in months.

***

Angel woke before sunset, not sure what had disturbed him. Then he heard the sink running in the bathroom, and realized Willow was awake. A few moments later, she left the bathroom and tapped at the door, hesitantly opening it and peering in.

Her face was unsure, shaken, and scared. And Angel remembered then why he'd remained the voice of reason for so long, despite it being a lost cause: Willow. He slipped out of bed and Drusilla and Dev gravitated to the center spot he left open. He pulled a shirt on, and then he and Willow made their way downstairs to the kitchen.

She poured herself a glass of juice and sat at the table while he prepared blood for himself. She seemed to be gathering herself, so Angel sipped from his mug and sat across from her, waiting for her to speak.

"I've done a stupid thing," she said finally.

"What did you do?" he asked gently.

Willow tucked her hair behind her ears, then shook her head. "I'm so confused," she said instead of answering him. "I feel like I'm in this place, and I don't remember going there. I'm just---there. And I don't know what I'm seeing ahead of me, because I wasn't paying attention while I was getting there."

Angel was silent for a long moment. "I don't know what to tell you, Will. We all wind up in that boat at one time or another. There's no right way to handle it."

She made a frustrated noise. "Where's the wisdom acquired during more than two hundred years, not to mention that time in Hell?"

"Only fools think they're wise," he said with a shrug. "I know that Spike can be--"

"It's not about--" she began, and he eyed her dubiously. She took a breath and a tired look came to her face. "It's not *just* about him," she said quietly. "It's magic, and not-really death, and--yeah, Spike. It's pretty much everything."

"Maybe so," he conceded. He stared at her until she met his eyes squarely. "But the center of it all? We both know who's there."

She nodded slowly. "I guess we do." Frowning, she looked away from him. "I went to sleep in my room, and I woke up in the spare bedroom. With Spike. And I felt...good, and right, and a whole bunch of other stuff. I got up to go to the bathroom, and as soon as I closed the bedroom door behind me, I didn't feel that way anymore. So I opened the door, and I felt good again. I closed it, and I didn't feel good again. And you know what I noticed?"

"That he was making a noise, and it was the noise that was making you feel that way," Angel answered.

Large green eyes met his once again. "Why, exactly, is that?" she asked carefully.

Angel drained his mug, then sat back. It was going to be a long conversation.

***