Fic; Ghost of a Chance Part 2

[Jim_D_Means@xxxxxxxxxxx]

My two parter became a three parter. In the interest of shorter posts, I've divided my 
second half, which turned out a little longer than I had thought, into two parts. Here 'tis.

Kirayoshi

Disclaimers; That which was not created by Joss was created by Aaron Spelling. I'm making 
no money off this. I don't own these people, and if I did, Buffy wouldn't have given Parker 
or Riley the time of day.

Archive; Let me know first.

Feedback; Please do. Jim_D_Means@xxxxxxxxxxx

Summary; Sequel to "Together Again For The First Time". Willow faces the ghosts of her 
past. Can even the Power of Three save her and Buffy from a vengeful spirit?

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GHOST OF A CHANCE
By Kirayoshi

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Willow woke up the next morning after a fitful sleep. Once, the night before, she had bolted 
awake after a nightmare of Anya gutting Buffy like a salmon. Buffy had finally managed to 
soothe her lover and convince her to go back to sleep.

Willow reached for Buffy as she awakened, but felt a cold space in the bed next to her. That 
woke her up with a start, and she leaped out of bed, grabbing her robe. She rushed to the 
living room, fearing the worst.

The familiar sound of Buffy's "Hiaa!" assured her that her fears were groundless. Willow 
entered the living room to see Buffy in the middle of her morning exercises. She practiced 
several simple karate katas, in repetition, and then cooled down with a series of tai chi 
positions. The fluid grace of her body, clad only in a blue sports bra and panties, were 
enough to set Willow's blood racing, and help her put aside her night terrors. She sat down 
in her favorite easy chair, paying rapt attention to her lover's graceful movements. Her cat, 
Piawacket, lazily climbed the chair, and curled up in Willow's lap.

In the middle of a crane movement, Buffy glanced at the chair, and saw Willow sitting there, 
absently stroking Piawacket. She stopped, and smiled at her beloved. 

"Hey, don't stop on my account," Willow said, "I was just getting warmed up."

"Hey, hacker," Buffy commented. "I'm the one doing the exercise, how can you be getting 
warmed up?"

"You're standing there wearing next to nothing, moving like that?" Willow answered, 
attempting her best sultry voice. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I aim to please," Buffy grinned as she moved toward the easy chair. "Scram, Pie," she 
growled humorously, shooing the cat, as she took the feline's place next to Willow. They 
cuddled for a few minutes, Buffy grazing Willow's left earlobe, Willow kissing Buffy's 
shoulder. Buffy stopped her nibbling to ask, "You sleep any better, Wills?"

Willow nodded, and passed a rueful glance at Buffy. "Not bad for a jinx," she muttered.

Buffy turned Willow's head to face her directly. "Oh, no, Willow. None of that. You are 
not a jinx."

"Yeah, right," Willow huffed. "Xander loved me, now he's dead. You love me, now you've 
got a vengeance demon on your tail."

"Oz loved you, now he's married to Amy," Buffy joked. "Merciful God in heaven above, 
what have you done?" She started to chuckle at Willow, who just glared at her.

"I'm serious, Buffy," she snapped at her fiancee. "If I hadn't gotten involved with Tara, 
Xander would be alive. I'm bad mojo. You get involved with me, you might as well wear a 
red uniform and join a landing party on Star Trek. I mean, who wears red military uniforms 
anyway, they'd stick out like a sore thumb! I mean, the Brits wore red, and the Colonies 
kicked their butts! Real lousy camouflage there--"

"Wills, you're babbling," Buffy observed.

"I'm babbling! And I'm a jinx! Buffy, if you had a brain in your head you'd run for the hills 
instead of marrying me!"

"Well, then, Miss Rosenberg," Buffy raised her voice, causing Willow to be silenced from her 
babble attack. "It's a good thing for both of us that I'm a complete idiot. Yep, I'm the 
Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz!"

"Buffy, I didn't mean--" Willow started to apologize, but Buffy placed a finger on her lips, 
effectively silencing her.

"Forget it, Wills," Buffy said gently. "This Anya situation has us both on edge. But I want 
you to understand something right off. In three weeks from now, I am going to marry you, 
even if I have to hog-tie you and drag you to the chapel myself. You and I are going to be 
Willow and Buffy Rosenberg-Summers. I've loved you too long to settle for anything less. 
And nothing short of another apocalypse will stop us. You got it?"

Willow gasped in awe of Buffy's expression. And she thought she had a good resolve face. 
"Who am I to oppose the will of the Chosen One?" With a heartfelt smile on her lips, she 
vowed, "I'd better not miss the ceremony, then."

"That's my wiccan," Buffy murmured into Willow's neck. After a few more minutes, she 
reluctantly sat up, and said, "C'mon, Willow, let's get dressed. Piper said we should swing 
by their place and check on their progress in tracking Anya. And I could use a shower." 
Walking away, she turned her head toward Willow, and smiled knowingly. "Room for one 
more, honey," she whispered throatily. The redhead grinned lopsidedly as she followed the 
retired Slayer to the shower.

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"You failed me, little slave," the dark voice told her.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. Forgive me," the slave begged as she groveled before the one who had 
the power to forever banish her from the mortal realm. "I had no idea that their new friends 
were such powerful witches."

"Yes, the Charmed Ones," the Mistress mused. "I have heard of them. Many of my brothers 
and sisters were vanquished by their Power of Three. That's why I chose not to strike at her 
directly. No matter. The one who hurt us both will not see another sunset," she mused, 
almost to herself. "I've made arrangements." 

The slave stood mournfully as her mistress was lost in thought. She had wanted revenge 
against the one who cursed her forever. But not like this, not if it meant the death of 
innocents. Her mistress didn't care who got caught in the crossfire. And if she were to raise 
a hand against the Mistress, her time on this earth would be over.

But would that be such a bad thing, compared to an eternity of servitude to a madwoman?

As the slave contemplated her fate, and her mistress planned her revenge, neither were aware 
of a third presence in their midst. This presence raged at their plans against Willow 
Rosenberg. She had been hurt enough for several lifetimes.

He knew that all too well. After all, hadn't he caused a great deal of that pain?

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"Buffy, Willow," Prue greeted the couple. "Come on in. We're just waiting for Leo."

"Good to see you, Prue," Buffy answered as she and Willow joined the sisters in the living 
room.

"Any word on Anya?" Willow asked pensively.

"Not yet," said Piper. "Leo had left to find out something. He should be back soon." 
Shortly after Piper spoke, a cascade of light coalesced in front of them, as Leo materialized in 
the living room. "Speak of the Whitelighter," Phoebe quipped.

Piper hugged her husband briefly, causing Buffy and Willow to smile; after seven years of 
marriage, Leo and Piper were still as passionate about each other as when they were 
newlyweds. Buffy took Willow's hand in hers, and prayed to whatever God or Goddess 
happened to be listening that she and her soulmate would be as happy in their life together.

"Well, I've got some good news for you," Leo said, as he put a paper bag he was carrying on 
the coffee table. "I can say that your antagonist is not Anya."

"Wha- hold it, Leo," Buffy interrupted, "Last night, you were sure it was a vengeance 
demon."

"A vengeance demon, maybe," Leo said. "It was a close thing, but I know it wasn't Anya in 
particular. Anya is still human, and didn't seem to have any interest in revenge."

"Wait a sec, bro-in-law," Prue rose to her feet as she questioned the Whitelighter. "You 
sound like you know her."

"Well, we just met," Leo admitted. "I looked up records from U. C. Sunnydale, and found 
her full name, then I tracked her to her current home. She lives here in San Francisco, 
believe it or not. Runs--well, a boutique in Haight-Ashbury."

"Yeah," Buffy muttered skeptically. "What a co-ink-y-dink!"

"Yeah, Leo," Phoebe admitted, "That excuse does sound as shallow as my last three dates."

"She doesn't have her powers, Phoebe," Leo asserted. "And when I mentioned that I was 
sent by her friend Willow, she just nodded. She asked if Willow had finally worn down 
Buffy. And she asked me to give you this," she handed the paper bag to Buffy, who could 
have sworn she saw the Whitelighter blush, "as a wedding gift."

Buffy carefully opened the bag, and produced a round plastic tub. She read the label; 
"Chocolate flavored body paint," Willow blushed almost as red as her hair. "Same old 
Anya," Buffy commented.

"Leo!" Piper cried in mock indignation, swatting her husband. "What kind of boutique was 
Anya running?"

"And that address again, Leo?" Phoebe chirped, only to receive a withering stare from Prue.

"I didn't stay too long," Leo admitted, somewhat embarrassed, "just enough to speak to 
Anya. She almost had to be reminded who Buffy and Willow were. I'm pretty sure that 
she's not our vengeance demon."

"Great," huffed Willow as she plopped down into the first available chair. "That means we're 
back to square one, with something trying to kill either me or Buffy."

"It really is great," Buffy countered her beloved, "because it means you're not the target. 
You're not a jinx, Wills, like I said." Willow smiled at Buffy's reassurances.

"As for who's targeting you now," Prue added, "you've still got the Power of Three on your 
side. We'll patrol around your townhouse, find out if you're endangered, then," she pounded 
on her left palm with her right fist, to illustrate the point.

"Hey, I can't ask you to keep us under surveillance twenty four/seven," Willow said, as she 
stood up and into Buffy's waiting arms.

"We won't have to," Piper brightened up. "We've got our early warning system, namely 
Phoebe." Phoebe looked at her sister, surprised, then the idea hit her and Prue 
simultaneously.

"Yeah, I see it," Phoebe said. "Buffy, if you have a personal item you can live without for a 
while, a lipstick or a hankie or something like that."

"What are you, Monty Hall?" Buffy quizzed as she fished through her purse. She withdrew a 
silk scarf, and handed it to Phoebe.

"The very thang," Phoebe drawled. She wrapped the scarf around her neck, and tied it 
loosely. "Whaddya think, girls. Be brutal, is it too gauche?"

"Lovely," Willow said, puzzled. "So what?"

"So," Phoebe explained, "with an object that Buffy owns on my person all day, any time your 
lives are threatened, I'll get one of my visions, and I'll call you. Don't worry, Willow. I've got 
your home number, your office number at Willtronix, the number at Buffy's dojo, and both 
your cell phones. You're covered."

Buffy turned to Willow, and saw the trust in her green eyes. Willow had known the 
Halliwells for nearly eight years now, since she left Sunnydale to make a new life for herself in 
San Francisco. She wanted to forget what had happened, to forget Tara, to forget Buffy. 
Prue, Piper and Phoebe were a comfort to her, but until she returned to Sunnydale for her 
class reunion, and met Buffy again, she didn't feel whole. Buffy was her center, her strength.

And Buffy looked upon Willow as her soul, her moral compass. She knew that if Willow 
trusted the Halliwell sisters, then they were worthy of trust. "Okay," Buffy nodded to 
Phoebe. It's a plan."

"So, Leo," Piper turned toward her husband, a mischievous grin splitting her face, "did you 
bring anything home from Anya's boutique for us?" Leo rolled his eyes in mock 
embarrassment, as the other girls enjoyed a stress-relieving laugh.

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TBC