CHAPTER 10

Eventually, the pain faded. It was replaced by a cold, crawling sensation, as if millions of ice ants scuttled through her brain. Willow dropped to the floor, holding her head. Power flared, trying to build, but the young witch was too unsettled for even the wild magic to gain purchase. After an eternity, everything stopped. The change was so unexpected Willow wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she noticed it. The teen huddled on the cold stone floor, freezing from the inside out. She didn’t even try to stand. Her limbs and mind were numb.

“Willow?” Jennifer’s tired voice asked. Warmth burst in one area as the older woman gently touched her daughter’s ashen cheek. Receiving no response, she carefully released the magical barrier sealing them into the Circle. “Kirstan!” It wasn’t much of a shout, but the witch knew the ex-Slayer would be able to hear. Kneeling next to the incapacitated girl, Jennifer pulled her into her arms, trying to warm the frozen skin.

Seconds later, an armed Kirstan halted outside the Circle. “Jenny?”

“It’s me, baby.” She met worried green eyes and smiled slightly. “I promise. It really is me. When we met, I thought you were the most arrogant, self-centered, pain in the ass on the planet. And I told you how I felt, right in the middle of the Council’s training center.”

Relaxing her guard a little, the brunette stepped across the inset glass. “Is she going to be OK?”

“Yeah. The spell is invasive, to say the least. I found some magical footprints in her mind.” She lifted the girl in her arms toward her wife. “Can you take her? We need to get her warmed up, quickly.”

Without hesitation, the other woman gently picked up the tiny redhead. “Where do you want me to put her?” she asked, already striding toward the staircase.

Jennifer followed more slowly, drained from the casting. “It’s a magical cold. Blankets and other ‘normal’ things won’t help. I’m going to crash soon. Get Drew to set up a minor warding and use a warming spell.”

“Is it safe to bring the others into this?” Kirstan asked, turning briefly to look at the older witch.

“We don’t have a choice, sweetie. This is going to take all of us, just to help her survive.”

***

Willow woke slowly. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find one of her sisters in full lotus on the floor next to the bed. The sleepy contentment fled as memory returned. Aware of her surroundings now, the witch could see the circle cast around her and the girl on the floor. A golden sheet of power blanketed her body, and the former Scooby sensed the energy helping to regulate her body temperature. It wasn’t a complex spell, but she didn’t want to startle the caster. Gently clearing her throat, the redhead said quietly, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Willow.” Drew smiled. “Feeling better?”

“A little, I think.” The witch stretched under her energy blanket. “Much better. No more headache, and, now that Kirstan isn’t lugging me around like a sack of potatoes, my stomach has settled.”

The younger redhead laughed. “She did that to you already? Wow. That must be a record, even for this family.”

“I take it, then, I’m not the only stubborn pain in the ass in the building?” It felt nice to joke with her sister. Despite the warm welcome by the Hirsch family, there hadn’t been a lot of time to do the ‘getting to know’ you thing.

“Hardly.” Willow chuckled at the dry tone. “Secretly, I think Mom gets a kick out of showing us she’s still got what it takes.”

The older girl tried to sit up, but found the magical sheet covering her kept her basically pinned to the bed. “Hey, Drew? I thought the spell was just to keep me warm, but am I not supposed to move?”

“What?” the younger girl asked in confusion. Then realizing her sister’s plight, she smirked. “Oh, no. Sorry.” Mumbling a spell, Drew released the spell. “So, I saw you hitting on Alex the other night. She likes to play the field. Want me to teach you how to do that? I mean, it might come in handy.”

Blushing furiously, Willow grasped the pillow behind her head and swung at the giggling girl on the floor. “Evil witch!” she gasped, pulling back for another blow.

Unfortunately for the witch in the bed, she’d forgotten that Drew had both Slayer and magical potential. While not in full possession of the primal forces of the Slayer line, the younger girl moved like lightening. Before she knew it, Willow folded under the girl’s retaliation. Shrieks of laughter and the dull thud of pillows contacting bodies filled the air.

Finally, Willow collapsed back on the bed. “Enough. I yield. I name thee Pillow Fight Champion of…” she hesitated. “What day is it?” Then, shrugging, “Who cares. You’re the Champ.”

Not even breathing hard, Drew tossed the pillow in her hands back onto the bed. “I never doubted it, sister mine.

“I think arrogance is a Slayer trait,” Willow complained. Resting from the aborted fight, she chanced a look inward at the barrier containing her potential. Yesterday’s festivities had damaged the wall, but it was still mostly holding. In a few places, large holes had appeared, and power poured from the breaches. It was enough to sober the young witch. Returning to the outer world, Willow sat up. “Drew, where are Kirstan and Jennifer?”

Looking startled at the sudden change in mood, the younger girl replied, “Mom’s in the training barn and Mama was taking a nap when I came up. That was a few hours ago, though.”

“OK. I need to shower and find some food.” A brief grin flitted across her lips. “I wasn’t in any shape to eat yesterday. Could you see if,” she hesitated. It still felt wrong to call the two women who were her parents by anything other than their names. “Could you see if Mom and Mama can meet me somewhere? I’m pretty sure talking is of the good.”

***

Tara stared in shock at the smaller blonde. “Willow’s growth is part of a prophecy? Did Giles have any more information?”

“Not really,” the Slayer mumbled. “When she did the resurrection spell, she opened a gate. Something evil snuck in before the gate got closed.” Spying a bench, Buffy dropped onto it. “The book or whatever the prophesy was in is in really bad shape. Giles is going to check with the Council.”

“Hmmm. I wonder…” The witch sat down next to Buffy. “Who’s the witch that can help Willow?”

“I…Fuck, Tara, I don’t know,” the younger girl exclaimed. “My God, what was I thinking. I let Giles ramble on about the book with the prophesy and I never got the name.” She bounded off the bench and started pacing furiously. “Helping Will should be my biggest priority now. It’s my fault all this happened.”

Watching the Slayer moving back and forth in front of her, Tara made a decision. The situation was bad, to be sure, but something more was going on. The witch had seen the diminutive blonde face a Hell God with less histrionics. Unfocusing her eyes and drawing in a ribbon of power, she looked at Buffy’s aura. The witch nearly lost the view in surprise. Oh, Buffy, the older girl lamented, how long have you loved her? A lot of things made sense, now. The Slayer’s hesitation to, as she said, interrupt when Tara and Willow had been watching TV or a movie; the way she’s brightened whenever Willow was around. I can’t believe I never made the connection before.

Pushing the knowledge aside for later examination, Tara tried to find a way to calm the other girl. “Buffy? It’s an easy fix. I can just call Mr. Giles tonight or in the morning. In fact, since I’m not going to class, I could do it right now and then contact the witch.”

The Slayer stopped abruptly. “Yeah. OK. I was going to do a little research, Slayer-style.” Seeing Tara’s confusion, she elaborated. “I’m going to Willie’s and beat some information out of him.”

“I’m not usually big with the violence, Buffy, but maybe it will give us some idea what to expect.” She smiled slightly. “Since I’ve got a bit more to work on, how about I head over to your place? I’ll call Mr. Giles and then do some magical research of my own.”

“That sounds perfect.” Buffy rubbed her eyes tiredly. “I’m sorry – about earlier. I can’t seem to pull it together.”

Quickly standing and pulling the smaller girl into a hug, Tara murmured, “Sweetie, it’s OK. We’re going to get through this.” The witch had a new thought. “Buffy, do you think those friends of yours in L.A. might have more information about what’s going on?”

Leaning into the embrace, the Slayer absorbed the question like a blow. Fuck, I really need to wake up. First I forget to ask Giles for the name and then I don’t remember I need Tara to go help Angel. The shorter blonde stepped away, out of Tara’s arms. “Maybe. That’s something else I forgot.”

Seeing the blonde witch start to speak, she hurriedly went on. “I called Angel earlier. They’re kinda having their own big crisis right now.” Blushing a little and looking at the ground, Buffy said, “I was hoping you could go to L.A. today and do a little spell for them.”

The Slayer’s body language warned the “little spell” probably wasn’t so little. “Sweetie, what exactly do they need me to do?”

“Restore Angel’s soul,” came the mumbled response.

“Buffy!” The Slayer’s head shot up at the tone. “That’s the ‘little spell?’”

Meeting the exasperated blue eyes, the eldest Summers said, “Yeah. Willow used the Romanii Curse the last time. There’s a box at home with all the stuff you’ll need.”

“Oh, for Goddess sake!” Tara moved away, back to the nervous Slayer.

“Tara, I know it’s a lot to ask, but maybe they have another book or something that can help us.” She paused, then sighed. She was so tired. Maybe there was nothing they could do to stop this evil coming to town. If Willow hadn’t been right in the middle of the intrigue, Buffy might have just shrugged and given in. But she’d do anything to get Willow the help she needed. In a firmer voice, she said, “After you get rid of Angelus, I need you to bring Faith back from L.A. I want some backup for this fight.”

CHAPTER 11

“Faith?” Tara said, turning back to Buffy. “Isn’t she in prison?”

“Not anymore.” The Slayer shrugged. “Apparently she broke out to help the A.I. gang with the Angel situation.”

The witch walked back to the bench and resumed her seat. “Sweetie, aren’t you over-reacting? We don’t even know what’s coming. I mean, Willow’s problem is big, but Giles has some help lined up. Shouldn’t we wait until we know what we might be facing before we panic?”

Buffy stared blankly over Tara’s head. Finally, she said, “Normally, I’d say yes. But the thing with Glory really had me thinking. I’ve been so arrogant, Tara.” The blonde witch looked shocked. “I mean, it never occurred to me to ask for help. Hello! She was a Hell God, and we took her on with no real plan in mind. What if we’d had another Slayer? What if Angel and his crew had provided backup? Maybe together we could have found a way to seal the Portal without me diving in.”

The younger girl smiled sadly. “I’d do this alone if it only affected me. But Willow’s at the very eye of the storm. I’m not going to take any chances this time.”

Tara acknowledged the wisdom of the Slayer’s argument. Why shouldn’t they go into this battle with every available resource at their disposal? “Alright. I’ll do it.”

The standing blonde grinned in relief.

“But, Buffy, you’re still making assumptions. Angel may not have any more information than we do. And, sweetie, Faith knows her welcome here won’t be a pleasant one. What if she won’t come?”

“Then you tell her that once we’ve beaten this particular evil, she can take her best shot at me.” The Slayer’s voice was flat, unemotional. “You tell Faith I need her help to save Willow. Once that’s done, I’ll let her take whatever revenge she thinks she needs.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Tara began. The implacable look in Buffy’s hazel eyes stopped the words. “OK. I’ll go to L.A.” The witch stood. “You go on to Willie’s and I’ll stop by your place to get the magical supplies and call Mr. Giles.”

“Great.” Buffy sounded relieved. “You can take the Jeep. It’s gassed up, and I won’t need it.”

***

The Slayer jogged across the UCS campus feeling like a new person. Tara was on her way to the house to pick up the re-souling kit and to call Giles. It was time for some action. Reaching the edge of the university, Buffy slowed. If she entered Willie’s without a plan, she’d never get the information she needed. She thought back over the last several weeks. Patrol had been routine. Or had it? She’d been so numb lately. Had she missed some unusual demon or vamp activity?

Wandering down Main Street, the Slayer tried to take more notice of her surroundings. The weather was colder than usual for Southern California, even allowing for the mid-February timing. Only a few people cluttered the sidewalk. And they all seemed in a hurry, too. Buffy shook off a sudden chill. She had to stay focused. Even with her preoccupation, the Slayer was sure there hadn’t been any changes in demon activity. If there was a Big Bad on the way, the lack of change was worrisome all on its own.

In the Slayer’s experience, great evil either meant a drastic increase in low level demons and run of the mill vampires or a complete lack of both. Some would-be world dominators needed henchmen to help with their scheme. Others were so powerful regular creatures of the night fled in terror. Lost in thought, the blonde girl continued her trek to the demon bar.

Entering the dimly lit barroom quietly, the Slayer extended her senses and gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Not surprisingly, the room was empty. Buffy walked over and peered over the long gleaming expanse of the bar. Nothing. No sign of customers or the oily bartender. Deciding to wait a minute before exploring on her own, Buffy dropped onto a barstool and absently grabbed a handful of peanuts from a bowl.

A door slammed in the back of the building and the Slayer swallowed her breakfast and stood. Seconds later, the namesake of the bar wandered in from the storeroom.

“Hey, Willie. Been a while,” Buffy greeted him.

Jerking at the unexpected voice, the little man dropped the case of liquor in his arms. The Slayer was sure she’d never heard a sweeter sound as the dozen bottles shattered on the floor and the bar owner cursed.

“Sorry about that,” she said insincerely.

“Slayer, I should have known.” Willie glared at the grinning blonde.

Leaning her upper body against the wood of the bar, Buffy commented, “Why, Willie, it almost sounds as if you don’t like me. I’m all hurt and everything.” Although she was enjoying herself more than she had in a long time, the Slayer knew it was time to get down to business.

“So, Willie, got any tidbits of information for me?” she cooed. “I mean, if there was something big coming to town, you’d tell me, right?”

“Sure, sure,” Willie agreed. “I always take care of the local talent.”

“Good,” the Slayer purred. She watched the bartender respond to the seductive tone and smirked. “Because, if I find you’re holding out on me, I’ll have to send my sister in here to straighten you out.”

Buffy barely managed to contain her laughter at the confused look Willie wore. “Your sister? The small fry that hangs out at the Pump?”

“Oh, no. Dawn’s not coming anywhere near this place, Willie. My other sister, Faith. You remember her, don’t you? She likes leather, dirty dancing, and violence.” She waited for the bartender to make the connection.

“Faith…Faith!” His eyes widened. “Really, Slayer, I ain’t heard nothing.”

“I believe you, Willie.” Buffy grabbed a handful of nuts for the road. “Make sure to let me know if things change,” she tossed over her shoulder, heading for the door.

Leaving the bar, the Slayer decided to return home. Tara should have been able to reach Giles by now, and Buffy really wanted to know more about the witch who would be helping Willow. She didn’t quite jog, but she didn’t dawdle either.

Thirty minutes later, the oldest Summers trotted up the front walk, noticing the empty driveway. So, Tara was already L.A. bound. Opening the door and heading immediately for the kitchen, Buffy hoped the witch’s quick departure wasn’t a bad sign. Tara had taped a note to the refrigerator, the Slayer saw. Ripping off the message, the blonde scanned the neat handwriting. The information resulted in a frown. Stuffing the paper in her pocket, the blonde raced up the stairs and into her room. Digging through the mess in the nightstand, she finally located a crumpled piece of notebook paper.

It was the name and address of Willow’s family outside Sunnydale. Holding it in one hand, Buffy drew Tara’s note from her pocket. The names were the same. The Devonshire Coven recommended Jennifer Hirsch as a magical trainer for the struggling red head.

***

Maybe breakfast wasn’t such a good idea, Willow thought. Her stomach rolled alarmingly as she watched the two older women enter the small den. Jennifer looked exhausted. She leaned into Kirstan, who wrapped a supporting arm around the shorter woman. Witch and ex-Slayer settled together on the loveseat opposite Willow.

“I need to know what you found,” the younger girl said. It came out harsher than intended, but Willow was too tense to make an apology.

Jennifer looked at her without speaking.

The hacker-turned-witch resisted the urge to squirm. She remembered that look from when Mrs. Summers was still alive. Pure Mom-ness poured from those green eyes. Willow, however, had helped defeat a Hell God. Calling on reserves of stubbornness, she met the stare and waited for an answer.

“Girls,” Kirstan broke in dryly, “this isn’t the time to see who’ll blink first.”

“Sorry, love.” Jennifer leaned her head against her wife’s shoulder. “OK, little girl, let’s talk about exactly what happened during that resurrection spell.”

Willow tensed in the overstuffed chair. This was it. “You found something?”

Jennifer nodded. “There were footprints deep in your mind. Whatever was there is gone now. We aren’t dealing with possession. The trail led to your power reserve before disappearing.”

Willow sucked in a deep breath. “OK. So, this thing tried to drain my power?”

“No, I don’t think so.” The older witch looked thoughtful. “I believe, though I can’t prove anything, the entity intended to release your potential. There were no signs that power was pulled through the gap in the barrier. Instead, it looked as if power had been forced through the wall and into the stored power.”

The explanation didn’t make sense. Willow tried to get her thoughts together, but Kirstan asked first, “Baby, what does that mean? Wouldn’t magic placed into the reservoir just get stored with the rest?”

“No.” Jennifer sounded certain. “Pour in enough power, and the levels would rise.”

Willow finally got the point. “Like filling a glass too full. Once you’ve reached the top of the wall, the power would pour out.” She paused for a second. “But that doesn’t explain the way the wall collapsed. That rubble was too old for Rack. In order for the wall to crumble, whatever entered my mind had to keep pouring in power into the dam.” She met Jennifer’s eyes. “That’s a whole lot of power for an ephemeral being.”

Her mother agreed. “It is. As soon as we got you settled, I hit the books. I couldn’t find anything.”

“I even tried the Council. They’re going to keep looking, but the researcher I talked to said the situation didn’t sound like anything they’d recorded before.” Kirstan looked at the head nestled on her shoulder. “Jenny and I have feelers out in the Slayer and Wiccan communities, trying to find information. But,” she said quietly, “we couldn’t give anyone too much information.”

The words didn’t make sense at first. Willow blamed it on the last few harrowing days. Slowly, Kirstan’s meaning became clear. “You’re afraid that if anyone finds out what happened with me and how powerful I’ve gotten, they’ll try to kill me.”

Her mothers looked pained at the description.

“So, what’s the next step? The barrier held after the mind probe, but there are huge leaks now,” Willow said.

“We need to find a way to shore up the wall until we unearth a way to either make the barrier permanent or to siphon off some of the power overflow, you have to trust that nothing will slip through the cracks,” Jennifer replied.

The older witch might have continued, but a sharp knock sounded on the door. “Mom?” Drew called from outside. “There’s a message on the voice mail you guys really need to hear.”

CHAPTER 12

Willow laughed and the other women looked at her in surprise. “Oh, come on, don’t you think this is getting just a it much? The return of a long lost daughter and her magical mysteries. Now, a phone call? I’m thinking it’s probably not of the good.”

Kirstan stood first. “Then why laugh?”

The younger girl dragged herself to her feet. “Because not laughing leads to crying.”

“Makes sense,” the ex-Slayer nodded. “Coming, Jenny?”

Groaning, the older witch nodded. “A little help, though?” Kirstan grasped her outstretched hand and pulled her up. “Thanks, lover. Well, then, shall we find out just how bad this is about to get?” She moved past daughter and wife to unlock the door.

Drew stood uncertainly in the hallway. “Sorry to interrupt. It’s just…” she trailed off.

“I’m going out on a limb here. The message had to do with me.” Willow had no doubts about that.

The younger girl’s eyes widened. “Um, it might have been.” She shrugged. “It was a Watcher named Rupert Giles. He didn’t say much, though. Just said Mama had been recommended by a friend of his.”

“Girls, it would be helpful to actually listen to the message,” Kirstan commented. She glared at her daughters. “Stop blocking the hallway so your mother and I can find out what’s going on.”

The two redheads obligingly walked down the hall to the kitchen. Hopping onto a stool, Willow commented, “Giles is Buffy’s Watcher.” Reality intruded. “Damn. If Giles is calling for Jennifer, something must be really wrong. Tara’s a strong witch.”

“Before we all go into panic mode, why don’t we listen to the message?” Kirstan asked dryly.

“Right. Good idea.” Willow blushed.

Jennifer chuckled and pressed the play button on the answering machine. Giles’ warm voice poured into the room.

“Mrs. Hirsch, my name is Rupert Giles. I have a bit of a situation, and you were recommended as a possible source of help. A young witch in the area may be in danger.” There was a long pause, and then the speaker cleared his throat. “These bloody machines…I apologize if this doesn’t make much sense. Could you perhaps call me directly? My number is 00-01884-960008.”

All four women looked at each other. “OK. If he’s calling about me, why doesn’t he know I’m already here and that you’re my mother?” the ex-Scooby wanted to know. “Dawnie knows all about you. I’m sure she’s forgiven Buffy enough to tell her the phone number. I just don’t understand.”

“Could he mean your ex?” Drew asked.

The thought of Tara needed any kind of help made Willow sick. “Maybe. There could be a new Big Bad in town.” She frowned. “I need to call Buffy and find out what’s going on.” She moved toward the phone.

A firm hand grasped her shoulder from behind. “No, sweetie. You can’t”

Spinning in Kirstan’s hold, the young witch demanded, “Why the hell not?”

The ex-Slayer smiled sadly. “Because Jenny thinks we need to sequester you until you’ve got better control over the magic.”

“You have to find your center, Willow.” Jennifer joined the conversation. “Right now, the magic doesn’t have a secure place to ground. It’s fluctuating with your emotion.”

Willow shook her head in denial. “I’ve got a temporary barrier in place. I just need to find a way to fuse it, and I’ll be OK.” She looked pleading at both of her parents. “I can’t let anything happen them. They were my family. They are my family.”

“Look, I’ll call Mr. Giles back and get more information. Don’t panic just yet.” Jennifer wrapped her arms around the distraught girl.

Struggling to control her emotions and push back another surge of power, Willow agreed. “OK. No panicking yet. But I reserve the right to freak out if there’s something really wrong.” Jennifer’s laughter vibrated through her. “Could we call Giles now?”

“It’s only late evening there,” Kirstan said. “Jenny?”

“Yeah. I think we’ll all feel better once we’ve got more information.” She pulled back from Willow. “Drew, hand me the phone.”

“Sure.” The youngest group member grabbed the handset and passed it to Jennifer.

The oldest witch dialed the long number and waited. After several minutes, she frowned and disconnected the call. “That was weird. The international operator said the number was no longer in service.”

***

For the first time since coming back from the dead, the Slayer felt a surge of hope. Not only was there a witch strong enough to help train Willow, but the woman was also the redhead’s mother. Sinking onto the bed, Buffy stared sightlessly at the ceiling. She missed her friend; missed talking with her about the Slaying and Dawnie. Maybe it was time to tell the other girl just how sorry she was for everything. Discarding Giles’ entreaty to wait a while, the blonde mulled over her options. She could call the number on the two notes. Or she could borrow Xander’s car and drive out to see Willow in person.

The Slayer knew she had to apologize in person. Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to think things through a little, Buffy planned for her trip. Getting up, she grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and packed some clothes and weapons. She moved downstairs to the kitchen. Picking up the phone, she dialed Xander’s number while searching for paper and pencil.

“Hello?” Xander asked.

“Hey, Xan. I let Tara borrow the Jeep earlier, but it looks like I need to take a road trip myself. Is there any chance you could loan me your car until tomorrow?”

A long pause made the blonde nervous. “Umm, I guess so, Buffy.”

“If it’s a problem, I understand.” She didn’t really understand. She needed to make this trip, but there was no way she could explain everything to the young man on the phone.

“No, no, Buff. It’s just – you know, you and driving don’t always mix very well.”

In another time and place, the Slayer might have joked about her driving abilities. Today, fatigue and emotional upheaval kept her from playing along. “Yeah. Look, Xan, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I promise I’ll bring the car back in one piece.” The words sounded flat, cold.

Responding to the brusque tone, her friend responded, “You OK? Cause you sound a little scary.”

He deserved at least part of the saga. “There’s something big headed this way. Giles is looking for information, and then he’s flying back here. I’ve got the name and address of a witch an hour or so out of town who might be able to give us a hand. I thought I’d go and talk to her in person.” She tried to lighten the mood. “Explaining about the weirdness here never goes well over the phone.”

“You do have a point. So, Big Bad…Let me guess, there’s an apocalypse and a prophecy and we’re all gonna die.”

“Yep. Same as always, Xander.” Buffy finally found the pencil and paper she needed in a drawer. Scribbling a brief note for her sister, she waited for her friend’s words.

“OK, Buffy. The car is yours.” She could hear the worry in his voice. “No way is the X-car more important than preventing the end of the world. Stop by whenever and I’ll give you the keys.”

“Thanks, Xander.” Buffy marveled at the way the Scoobies continued to support her. “I just need to leave a note for Dawn and I’ll be over.” She mumbled a good bye and hung up.

Hunting for her purse and keys took longer than it should have. Finally locating the items, the Slayer taped Dawn’s note to the stovetop and dropped twenty dollars next to it before grabbing her things and heading to Xander’s

***

Two hours later, the blonde double checked the address before pulling into a gravel drive bounded by imposing brick columns. She braked just past the entrance to wipe sweaty palms on her jeans. Now that she was here, Buffy was afraid Willow wouldn’t be happy to see her. Still, it was too late to turn back. Whatever the young witch felt, the Slayer had a new Evil to defeat. Driving slowly up the drive, the blonde gathered her composure.

It took almost ten minutes before Buffy spotted the house. The sprawling two-story building embraced a central courtyard. To the right, Buffy glimpsed other structures. The place was huge. She pulled into the courtyard and parked the car. As she climbed out, a redheaded figure emerged from the house. Shading her eyes against the glare, the Slayer grinned.

“Will!” she shouted and waved at the girl.

A small hand waved back.

Buffy bounced down the narrow gravel pathway that led to the main portion of the house. “Hey, I was worried about you! Looks like you’re doing OK, though.” Not slowing in the slightest, the Slayer took the porch stairs in a single leap and grabbed her oldest and dearest in a bear hug. “Missed you so much,” she choked out.

The stiffness in the body she held indicated something was wrong. “Will? Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry about everything. Tara and I, we figured out what really happened.” She leaned back, looking at the freckled face above her. “Fuck! Who the hell are you?”

“Dorian,” the girl replied. She stepped away from the stunned Slayer. “Willow’s my sister.”

“Oh,” was all the blonde managed.

A familiar, quirky grin greeted her response. “Willow’s out in the training barn with Drew. Why don’t I take you on back?”

***

Willow sat with Drew in the training barn, shielding stretched in blue and green arcs between them. Where the powerful barriers brushed together, sparks blazed and a dissonant buzzing filled the air.

“Relax, big sister,” the younger Hirsch said quietly. “This isn’t a contest. I know you’re way stronger than me. Pull back a little and feel the energy. You aren’t trying to overpower my shield. You want to match it.”

Working hard to relax into a trance-state, Willow unfocused her eyes and peered at the green energy forming a half circle around Drew. She looked too hard. She sensed more than just the shield. Energy patterns flared in her mind and she automatically named the various patterns. Jennifer was in the kitchen, trying to reach Giles. Flowing farther from the barn, the redhead watched for a minute as Kirstan and Morgan worked with several horses.

“Hey. Where did you go? Mama’s going to ask how this went. I’m not the one who’s explaining why this simple little exercise was a bust,” Drew pointed out.

Internally acknowledging the rebuke, the older girl began to reel in her inner sight. However, as she moved past the house, Willow sensed a very familiar energy pattern. “Buffy!” she said aloud. Narrowing her focus, she basked in the Slayer’s presence. Damn, I wish I was already there, the witch thought. It would take a while to safely ground the shield energy.

The magic inside responded to her desire. The redhead literally felt her essence float from her body, forming an astral figure that raced out of the barn to the Slayer. Mere seconds passed. Astral Willow watched in amusement as the blonde ran up to Dorian and grabbed her in an exuberant embrace. She moved closer and heard her old friend talking.

“Will? Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry about everything. Tara and I, we figured out what really happened.”

The words brought back images of the last days in Sunnydale: the arguments and accusations; the stony silences and looks of disapproval. Those memories hurt – and the hurt bled into anger. Willow tried to stop the dark and vengeful emotion, but it built too quickly. Power quickened through her channels and the witch watched in disbelief as large pieces of debris exploded from the makeshift barrier around her reservoir.

Silently screaming Buffy’s name, she fought the wave of magic leaping toward her friend.

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