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Chapter 3 Preparations

"Willow, you shouldn't be here." It was the first thing out of Angel's mouth and not at all what the young witch had expected as a greeting. "It's not safe," he said almost sternly, his eyes fixed on Buffy, who he was clearly insinuating should have known better. She glared right back, eyes never leaving his.

"I'm here. And I want to help," Willow said firmly, her eyes blazing with anger; she was daring him to stop her.

"Fred is gone."

"She's not," Wesley said angrily, coming up from behind his friend. "Her soul has not crossed over. There is still time."

"I know," Willow said calmly, her uncharacteristic annoyance not surfacing until she turned to Angel and continued. "You can't look at what happened to her as a death. It wasn't a death and she's not resting peacefully in some heavenly realm. She's stuck inside that thing." As she mentioned Illyria as a thing, her expression flickered darkly, giving them all a momentary glance into the physical manifestations of her anger.

"Oh dear," a tremulous voice said loudly. They all looked up as Lorne walked down the stairs toward them, his eyes trained on Willow and his expression one of hesitance and weariness. "Darling witchy-kins, you're looking a little chaotic in the aura."

"Hi Lorne," she said, attempting to muster a smile.

"What are you all doing here? Is there a new big bad? Because we're still reeling from the last one."

"I only came to help Fred," Willow assured him.

"Willow, this is not up for discussion. It's too dangerous." Angel's eyes scanned the room, taking in the dozens of employees who were trying to catch a glance at the attractive guests. Although they were accustomed to strange visitors, they were not used to legends being in their midst. "Let's go talk about this somewhere else."

"Good idea," Willow agreed quickly. "Where do you keep the ancient manuscripts? I'm looking for one on the Gods. I know I used it when Glory took over, but I'm positive I sent it to you, Wesley. Last year, when you were having the "happy people" problem."

"I remember it – the volume on weaknesses – red leather bound, if I remember correctly. I'm sure it's among my collection. I haven't had the chance to go through all the boxes from my last home—"

"Then let's get to it," Willow said, almost reminiscent of her usual self.

Eighteen hours after they arrived at the law offices, Willow had sequestered herself into Wesley's office with mountains of books and items of reference. She furiously took notes and talked to herself, attempting to work something out in her brilliant mind. She snapped at anyone who entered, save Dawn. Even the young girl could not convince Willow to eat anything or take even a brief break.

Buffy stood outside the office, staring at her friend, her fingers remaining busy by worrying the ends of her blond locks. Angel stepped out of the shadows to her side, his presence immediately calming; she much that it made Buffy cringe in annoyance at herself. "She can't keep this up."

"Do you want to tell her that?" Buffy asked, her voice rose in warning.

"No," he said with a worried smile. "I'd rather fight ten slayers."

"Me too," she agreed. "Have you seen Dawn?"

"Lorne took her and Xander back to Cordelia's apartment. I didn't think they'd want to stay here tonight." She nodded her head and they both went back to staring into the office. The silence remained for a long while before Buffy finally chose to break it.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Work in a place dedicated to the evil you fight every day."

"It keeps the people I care about safe," he said simply, refusing to make eye contact.

"Not Fred," she said softly, just loud enough for his senses to latch onto the sounds. Point being made, she gently pushed open the door to Wesley's office and crept inside, her eyes focused on Willow. The young witch hadn't looked so tired since she'd given power to every potential slayer in the world; and that had taken oodles of energy. She concentrated on her words, refusing to let them slip through her lips; it would only aggravate her friend. It was a skill she hadn't practices since parting with Xander and Willow – the only two people she had ever been able to communicate with telepathically. "Willow, you need to rest. You can't help Fred while you're exhausted."

"Leave me alone," Willow shot back, her eyes and lips never moving.

"No," Buffy answered firmly, "Not until you take a break.

"Get out."

"Don't make me kick your ass," Buffy thought firmly, her mind set in its stubborn fashion. Willow finally looked up from the book she was studying and her irises, ebony rimmed with alabaster, quickly returned to their normal shade of green. As soon as that happened, she collapsed – before Buffy made it to her side. Angel entered the room and gently lifted the exhausted woman into his arms, indicating that Buffy should follow. While she slept in a fitful unconsciousness, Wesley and Angel looked over what Willow had done. She had found spells to incapacitate Illyria, spells to withdraw Fred's spirit, and spells to rebuild the lost organs.

As far as the two men could see, she had found almost everything she needed as far as information. There were several problems with the plan she was hatching and those problems troubled both men. "She can't do this herself. She'll never come back from it. There's no safe magic that can rebuild the human body," Angel said to Buffy as he handed her a cup of tea.

"And even if she used every bit of her own power, she still wouldn't be able to pull this off. Each spell must be offered in the right order, at the precise time. It's highly unlikely that the most experienced witch could handle this," Wesley added.

"That's why I need help," Willow said as she stood against the doorway, bracing her exhausted body. "I need you to make these phone calls. Get them here now," she said, handing a sheet of paper to Angel. He could see at least two dozen names.

"Who are they?" Buffy posed her question as she walked next to her friend and helped her over to a sofa in Angel's living room. She could feel that Willow was still lacking power; she could barely stand on her own.

Willow rested her eyes for a moment before looking up at her friends. "Two covens. One from England – I met them through Giles. And the other is family. My mother's side – we were never close, but they'll come."

"We'll make the phone calls if you rest," Buffy said firmly. "I'm not letting you attempt this thing until you're back to your normal strength. Otherwise you're going to kill yourself."

"There's too much to do," Willow objected, trying to stand. Angel put his hand on her arm, stopping her attempt. He shook his head and she could see the concern in his eyes.

"Tell Wesley what you need. We'll gather whatever supplies and people are necessary while you rest. I'm with Buffy on this one. There's no way you're working these spells half-asleep. You'll kill more than yourself." Defeated with both champions willing to block her attempts to continue, Willow sighed deeply and closed her eyes. After gathering her thoughts, she gave Wesley a list of what she needed. She sipped obediently from the cup of tea Angel offered and again tried to explain why she needed to oversee everything; she couldn't possibly sleep. Eyelids drooping, she realized all too late that the tea had been drugged.

"Jerk," she muttered as Angel carried her back to bed.

"Brat," he answered as he placed her among the soft blankets and pillows. She drifted to sleep, this time a much calmer rest aided by the Valium that had been slipped into her cup. While she slept, the others gathered what she had insisted upon and readied themselves for visitors.