RoundRobin: Chapter 17 - Stefan

["Jude <AmberBensonFan@xxxxxxxxxxx>" <AmberBensonFan@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Sorry about that - I have someone helping me with posting the 
chapters and neither one of us realized 17 and 18 didn't get posted. 
Things should be more in order now. Enjoy.

Chapter 17
Stefan Akerblom

"All right is that everything?" Giles eyed the small collection which 
constituted Willow's meager possessions. Willow nodded and smirked, 
her red hair dancing in the night, the ceiling lights of the Hyperion 
Arms glinting off the scarlet tresses. The young girl felt buoyant 
again as well as trepidation at the thought of returning to her real 
home, to her family. Sighing she looked at the backpack and her small 
handbag.

"Mhm. I didn't have much with me, in fact I have even less now." 
Giles leaned in and tried to take the backpack, but Willow pulled it 
casually out of his reach, and shrugged it over one shoulder, her 
hand already on the strap of the handbag. Then walking slowly to the 
front door of the hotel, they strode out into the balmy night air. 
Wesley held the door open and everyone filed out.

A truck pulled up to the kerb, and the door popped open, Gunn almost 
falling out of the vehicle. Willow and Giles' departure momentarily 
forgotten, the friends all raced to the driver's side door of the 
battered pickup. Fred gasped at the amount of blood and gore that 
covered him, but he held up a hand and grinned.

"Hey it's all right. None of it's mine, I just had a ... run-in with 
this purple guy with snakehead dreadlocks. Wanted me to know the day 
was nigh or somethin'. Then he started layin' into me with a 
scimitar. I'm not sure what happened but I took the sword away from 
him and ..." he looked down at his torn and bloodied clothing. "... I 
hate my dry cleaning bills." He closed his eyes and took a deep 
breath.

"And you reek, god what was it?" Angel screwed up his nose. "That's 
some message he left on you."

"Purple, dreadlocks, snake head hair, sounds like one of the medusae 
demons, possibly the Maedar. I'll look into it when we go back 
inside." Wes mused. Giles nodded.

"Yes quite possibly. They are the foundation of the legends on earth 
of the medusae of Greek mythology, the maedar being the male 
equivalent, much less dangerous, without the effects of uh ... 
turning you to stone with it's gaze, and so on."

"No they just hack you into fishfood." Cordelia observed 
sarcastically. "A much better, less dangerous way to be killed." Fred 
looked at Cordy and shook her head in disbelief.

"you're sure you are ok?" Charles nodded and licked his gore covered 
lips, grimacing as he tasted foulness. He spat.

"Yeah jus' tired. Need something to drink too." Fred nodded and 
sidled up to Gunn, putting herself under his arm to help take some of 
his weight. Charles looked down and smiled, but didn't object. Angel 
sniffed and looked around.

"Willow's going back to Sunnydale, Giles has come to drive her home, 
they have a crisis there they need her for." Gunn looked up and 
nodded at the red-head.

"Hey girl, you know you're always welcome back. If you need a break 
again sometime, come see us, you know where we are." He extracted 
himself from Fred's shoulder and made a move forward. Willow leaned 
forward and lightly hugged him, trying to avoid the worst of the mess 
on his clothes. "Oh ... sorry, forgot." Charles looked down and 
smiled sheepishly at the wiccan. Willow grinned back and nodded. 
Turning to Fred she gave the little woman a small but heartfelt hug.

"You take care of yourself, hear?" Fred said in her drawl. She patted 
Willow's back in friendship. Willow nodded and pulled back.

"I will, count on it." she said a little hoarsely. Turning to Wesley 
Willow grinned at the Englishman and walked forward. Wesley in his 
typically awkward fashion, hugged the red-head and found it difficult 
to feel comfortable within her grasp, but valiantly he tried to 
reciprocate her enthusiasm, and patted her softly on her shoulder.

"Be careful Willow." he whispered to her. She looked up and into his 
eyes, and saw they were misted behind the glasses, his mouth quirked 
in a sad smile. After a brief pause, she turned to Angel. She walked 
forward, and threw herself into his opened arms. The vampire looked 
around the group a little awkwardly, and licked his lips in his 
trademark way, but his arms were strong around her, and his grip one 
of warmth and familiar friendship. Willow pulled herself into his 
grip, her face pressed into his chest.

"Thanks for being here." The red-head whispered softly. Angel leaned 
down and pressed his mouth close to Willow's ear.

"Hey any time, I'm glad you could come to me with this." Willow 
nodded.

"Me too, it means a lot." After some moments, the red-head extricated 
herself from Angel's arms. She turned to look at Cordy. At once, her 
face flushed red and she smiled. Cordelia took one step forward and 
met Willow in the middle of the group. Their arms about each other 
more closely than they would have believed possible before Willow's 
visit.

Cordy kissed Willow's cheek lightly and she pressed their faces 
together, arms tightly about the wiccan, her mouth whispering soft 
words only meant for Willow's ear.

"I didn't ever think we would be like this. But I'm glad it happened. 
And ... I wouldn't object if it happened again." Willow smiled at the 
words and nodded. In her own mind she thought it had been nice too, 
but somehow doubted it would re-occur. Not if things between Tara and 
herself could be patched up.

"Why don't you come back to Sunnydale sometime, and visit? I'm sure 
we could use your help around there, the visions and ... stuff."

"Oh count on it, I'll be back some time, but I'm needed here, there's 
so much ... so much bad that happens around here. I finally feel I 
have something to offer the world, something to give back. I'm 
not ... well not quite the Cordelia Chase you grew up with."

"Hey I know that, I can see you've grown ... you're a uh ... you're a 
much ... uh ..." Cordy chuckled at Willow's sudden awkwardness.

"Better person? Not quite as selfish, or naive, or two dimensional?" 
Willow said nothing, thinking she'd upset the brunette. Cordy just 
smiled and sighed. "Don't worry, you can say it, I know it, and I 
know what I was like. I'll tell you what probably isn't much of a 
secret ... I didn't much like me either while I was growing up. But 
I'm finally starting to learn to like me now." Willow looked into 
Cordy's eyes and saw sadness there but something else, something 
grand and wise and powerful. She nodded and smiled back.

"Tell Dennis about me leaving, I didn't get to say goodbye to him." 
Willow said softly. Cordy nodded and smiled, letting her arms drop. 
Giles made the rounds giving perfunctory handshakes uncomfortably. 
Willow looked at Giles and smiled softly.

"Home Jeeves ..." Giles blinked owlishly behind his glasses and 
smiled.

"Uh yes ... all right." He walked over to the passenger side of the 
car and held the door open for Willow, who tossed the backpack and 
handbag into the backseat, then seated herself. Giles closed the door 
with a thud. Turning around he looked at Angel. "I'll write or phone 
soon about ... about what happens. Be prepared, I might need you to 
come to Sunnydale and help out, your ah ... your expertise is welcome 
in this." Angel stared at Giles and nodded, then turned his nose 
towards Gunn again and frowned. Gunn held out his hands in 
exasperation.

"Hey I know! I stink, all right? I'm changing after this. Jus' let me 
get to the shower." Angel turned back to see Giles stepping into the 
drivers side of the car, and turning over the engine in the night, 
lights flicking on, Giles slowly pulled away from the curb.

"I know you can smell blood so much more clearly than us, but I can't 
say I can smell Gunn that much." Wes stepped up and said as Angel 
stood watching the tail lights of the car pull away into the 
distance, waving his hand.

"I know but there's something really bad about that smell, it's not 
the usual blood and guts you get when you dice up demons, it's ... 
something ..." he shook his head slowly. "I can't explain it, it 
smells ... more ... evil, somehow." He turned to Gunn. "Give the 
clothes to Wes and Fred afterwards, see if they can find out why they 
smell so bad." Gunn shrugged and began walking back towards the 
Hyperion Arms. The others, not finding the car any more in the sea of 
tail lights, also turned to walk into the hotel. Angel stood for 
moments, pensive as if in deep thought, then shrugging his shoulders 
he too turned and walked inside the hotel, a step behind Cordy.

"So Cordelia ..." Angel said quietly. "What was it that happened 
between you and Willow, that you wouldn't mind happening again?" 
Cordy looked acidly at the vampire as she stepped through the hotel 
door. Angel smirked silently and stepped in after her, letting the 
door close behind him.

The shadows of the alleyway beside the hotel seemed momentarily to 
waver and shake, and then from out of the darkness, tendrils of what 
looked like multi-coloured flesh roped their way around the corner, 
seeming to watch the back of the vampire as he retreated inside the 
hotel. The tendrils snaked around and seemed to grip the abutments 
and recesses of the hotel, leaving swaths and smears of dark colours 
in their wake, drips of ichor and gore as they clung to the rough 
surface of the building. Incongruously, the shape seemed to morph and 
pull itself along on fingers, toes and tendrils, exposing itself to 
the dim lighting outside the hotel. Heads, human heads, a dozen or 
more, seemed to swivel and turn as they took in everything around 
them, leg and arm bones, ribcages, gristle and other projections 
angling out of the mass at bizarre angles, other organs and vessels 
hanging loose and trailing as the vile mass of flesh pulled itself 
along almost silently, the fingers and toes holding clawlike to any 
projection they could find on the building, the heads swivelling and 
jaws snapping almost silently in the night, the liquid noises of 
intestines and blood vessels gripping the walls and sliding on the 
surface like grotesque creeping vines. The fleshy mass clung to the 
wall and dozens of eyes pushed their way through the skin surface of 
the putrescent, rotting body made up of a dozen or more split open 
and mutilated human carcasses blending into one reeking mass, and 
stared through the windows into the interior of the Hyperion, madness 
and unbelievable suffering in their bloody and rheumy orbs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So ... what's the skinny?" Willow said quietly after she had taken a 
sip from a bottle of water, while Giles gunned the car towards 
Sunnydale.

"The sk ... uh ... oh ... right, the ... skinny, well as I said to 
you we seem to have a major crisis, and it's probably best I tell you 
about it when we get to Sunnydale." Giles looked sideways at Willow 
who seemed to stare into the distance. "How are you really?" He 
ventured quietly as he flicked on the indicators and turned onto the 
lane he needed.

"Oh ... I suppose in general I'm fine, scared to death but I'm ok. 
I ..." Willow sighed and seemed to sag into the car seat. "I'm 
worried about what's going to happen, about ... about what everyone 
is going to say. It'll be all awkward and 'Ohhhh ... we can't say 
anything to upset Willow so we'd better talk about nice things 
otherwise she'll turn us all into ... into kittens and puppies.' and 
then ..." the red-head drifted off to silence, Giles smiling at the 
image in spite of himself.

"No Willow, I will be most surprised if that's what will happen. You 
have seen the letters and heard the words, but you have so little 
idea of the ... of the anguish everyone is feeling because you're not 
there." Willow looked at Giles and he glanced sideways briefly before 
taking his eyes back to the road. "I'm not going to say it'll be 
instant comfort and pleasantries, but ... well you know the way we 
all feel about you. And there is time for healing." He lapsed to 
silence for a moment, picking his words carefully among the many his 
mind dredged up to tell her. "They ... we missed you very much, but 
we knew it had to be your choice to either remain here to sort out 
your thoughts and feelings, or to return. We'd hoped to leave you 
alone long enough to let you do that, but right now it can't be 
helped, we need you badly." Willow sighed and nodded.

"I know, you need the big bad bitch with the wicca attitude because 
of some b..."

"NO!" He cut her words off sharply. "N ... uh ... no that's not why 
we need you back. Although right now I think some ... bad bitch wicca 
power might not go astray either." Giles waited a moment to let 
Willow interject if she needed to, but the red-head remained silent, 
so he continued. "I won't go into it too much here but ... well there 
is a prophecy ... and yes I know, another one. but it seems to 
revolve around ..." he briefly licked his lips and thought of what 
and how much he should say. "... around the three of you." Willow 
looked sideways at him and noticed he was concentrating furiously on 
the road in front of him.

"Three ... of ... of us?" Giles didn't register or say 
anything. "Which three, I mean ... obviously me and who else, Buffy, 
Dawn, Tara, who?"

"Uh ... you, Buffy and ... Tara. The prophecy speaks of ..." Giles 
mind floundered for some other way of saying it, but failed. "... of 
the three bound by love." The watcher kept his eyes on the road, not 
letting his vision waver from his chosen path. Willow looked at him 
for some seconds then turned back and also stared out at the night in 
front of her, streams of red drifting like ribbons of light leading 
her back through the darkness to who knows what back in Sunnydale.

"How ... wh ... I mean what if ... if Tara ... if ... ohh ... " 
Suddenly the implication of his words sank in and Willow drifted to 
silence. Giles softened his stare and drifted his eyes sideways for a 
brief moment, compassion written in the features of his face, his 
voice soft and gentle.

"Tara is waiting for you, Buffy too, in fact they all are, waiting 
and hoping that you will return. They want you back very much Willow. 
We are all much better with you there, than without you. But I had to 
bring you home, I can see what's coming, and ..." He swallowed down 
guilt. "... and I couldn't wait for that, soon as I was able I drove 
up here." Willow seemed not to understand. "If ... if I had told them 
I was coming to bring you back home, they would have attempted to 
stop me." Finally the words seemed to make sense to the red-head, she 
nodded.

"But ..." Willow had begun shaking softly. "Uh ... th .. the th ... 
three bound by love? That sounds a little bit ..." Giles turned to 
look at her briefly, and smiled nervously.

"Yes it does, doesn't it?" His heart raced furiously as his mind 
tried to find something relevant to say.

"But ... uhh ... it's Buffy, she's ... she's not ... and I mean Tara, 
and I, we ... did, I mean we have ... we've ... what if ..." Willow 
sighed and whimpered. "Oh Giles, I don't know if I can do this. I 
mean, Buffy might be so disgusted with me, with this ... this whole 
thing. And Tara is still upset with me or I expect her to be, 
especially since I ran away."

"Willow, it's best not to worry about it now, at least try to worry 
less about it, if you can. Until we get there, and you all speak to 
one another, this is all conjecture. but I feel somehow, that 
everything will be all right, everything will work out fine."

"Huh, that's easy for you to say ..." pouted the wiccan. "... you're 
not the one about to be flayed alive by Buffy." Giles looked at her 
at that and chuckled.

"Trust me, I am still smarting from ... some of the truths that Buffy 
told me upon my return. It will be some time before the salt comes 
out of the wounds."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The salad had been fine, the sauce had been salvageable, but the 
spaghetti itself had been a total loss, a chunk of gluggy mess 
sitting heavily in the bottom of the saucepan. Tara had quickly 
tossed it in the bin and cooked up a fresh batch. Soon enough the 
smells of the cooking drew Buffy down the stairs again, fully dressed 
and favouring her side a little, her nose twitching like a rabbit. 
She grinned at Tara.

"Oh your pasta was always to die for, and my stomach's gone into 
overdrive." The blonde witch laughed a little nervously and hid 
behind her long hair.

"Well I'm glad you'll have a big appetite, cause I think I cooked a 
bit too much for us both. But we can leave some for later, for the 
others ... for Dawn." Buffy nodded and dipped a finger into the 
sauce, licking it off appreciatively.

"Mhm. Dawn likes your spaghetti too. but you know, she was going over 
to Janet's tonight so I don't think you'll see her until tomorrow 
sometime." Tara nodded and drizzled a little dried thyme into the 
sauce, stirred it briefly and dipped a finger in to taste.

"Uhuh." She acknowledged. "Well it might be ok for tomorrow, it's all 
fresh, apart from the dried herbs." Taking the bubbling sauce off the 
flame, she turned the gas top off, and stood, silent for a moment, 
then said almost in a whisper "She ... she liked my spaghetti sauce 
too." A sudden sadness seemed to settle over the wiccan. Buffy walked 
up behind her and took the pot out of her hand, placing it back on 
the stove. She turned Tara to face her.

"Willow will be fine, we all will, it might need a little time and 
understanding from everyone, but it will be good in the end, trust 
me. They all accepted me when I was dumb enough to run away, I came 
back and they gave me a chance. That's what will happen now. Everyone 
should just be calm and cool about this and let Will come back and 
give her some space, give her breathing room." The slayer ran her 
hand down Tara's face, her fingers gently stroking her cheek. "Except 
you. You go to her and make things work out, as they should be. 
She'll be feeling pretty vulnerable right now, and she needs someone 
to hold on to." Tara looked at Buffy and pouted slightly. She had 
felt wonderful in so many ways a very short time ago, and it was 
something she did not wish to relinquish. Buffy saw the look and 
recognised the significance. "Tara, she needs you. Now possibly more 
than she ever did." Buffy smiled at the witch and pulled her into a 
hug. "There's lots of time to work out us, what this is all about. 
After all, Giles ranted on about that 'three bound by love' or 
whatever it was in the prophecy. THAT'S got me shaking in my boots. I 
can hardly ever keep one, let alone have two ... two people in love, 
be in love with two ... too. Two people. Be love, loved ... oh god. I 
sound like Willow!" Tara laughed and snorted at the word soup. She 
leaned forward and kissed Buffy on the cheek.

"Well I think you're adorable, especially when you're thrown by 
something ... not literally thrown but ... ya know ... uh ...as in 
confused." Buffy looked chagrined at the blonde wiccan.

"Adorable? I haven't been called that in oh ... well never in fact! 
Anyway Anya's apparently convinced you and I are almost married 
already so if that's anything to go by ..."" Tara pushed herself away 
briefly.

"Can talk about this while we eat? My stomach is trying to eat my 
spine." Buffy looked at the witch and smiled.

"Mine too. Ok, I think for this meal at least, a glass of red wine is 
in order. Call it ... a celebration." Tara nodded in agreement, and 
began piling the freshly cooked spaghetti onto plates at the 
breakfast bar while Buffy rummaged through a cupboard for some wine 
glasses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A darkened corridor stretched out and the soft carpet muffled the 
footsteps of someone dressed in an immaculate Italian dress suit.

"It is nearly time, the supreme one comes. Are all preparations in 
order?" The voice was like the shattering of icebergs, cold and 
devastating.

"Yes sire, the plans are all coming to fruition." The soft sibilant 
voice answered back nervously. The pale moonlight filtering through 
the diaphanous curtains draping the floor to ceiling windows, cast 
the speakers into grotesque sillhouettes in the darkness. One had 
horns almost a foot long coming from a massive head, the Italian suit 
incongruous on it's twisted body, hooves trampling the soft carpet 
heavily as it strode back and forth. The other almost human, but 
misshaped, lumpy and unsymmetrical, it's body shambling along behind 
the first.

"And the todal, has it done it's work?" The other remained silent for 
moments, then again in a nervous and shaky voice answered.

"No sire, it has not, but the evening is early still. It is but a 
moment in time, and the demoness shall soon be asleep, we can capture 
her then while she sleeps and dreams, and we can slay the others."

"See that it is so, or I shall personally feed you to the todal 
myself." The other whimpered.

"Yesss sire. It shall be as you say sire." Silence again in the 
darkness. Fingers rummaged in a coat pocket and withdrew an object 
almost like a watch, but made of rotating rings of gold and gems, 
cunningly crafted and driven by magic, glowing softly in the 
darkness. It's rings and gems rotated and spun in different 
directions and different speeds. The black clawed hands closed the 
lid of the sorcerous clock, and replaced it in the pocket of it's 
immaculate, very expensive, Italian suit. Two pinpoints of lambent 
white light spat furiously out of the darkness, malice and power a 
tangible force.

"Nearly time ... nearly the end of the world as we know it."