Title: Moonlit Paths
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rated: R
Pairing: W/Julian
Genre: BtVS/K:tE Crossover
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and K:tE stay in the hands of the respective
copyright holders – who, *gasp*, are not me.
Distribution: WLS, WLF, BMP, NHA, Aislin.
Author’s Note: My muses have been craving some good Kindred fanfic. . . we’
ll see where this goes and if it sates their appetites.
Notes2: In this fic we shall just imagine that Caitlin and Julian did not
fall for each other. That’s just silly. She was too cold for someone like
him. Not nearly warm and cuddly enough – no where near so much as Wills.
Summary: Willow just can’t escape tragedy – but could this time it lead to
love?

~*~Part One: Dates Suck~*~

Willow knew from the moment that she entered the club, trailing along behind
her would be date, that this wasn’t going to be her idea of a ‘fun time’.
The club was dark, slightly smoky, and definitely segregated between
different classes of people. On one side she could see old-world style
mobster look-alikes lounging in their suits. On another there were some
bikers. In between there were some people that were dressed fabulously and
looked like the types that would talk your head off about the latest
exhibits down at the museum.

And then there was the group in the back. They wore suits but seemed a
little more easy going than the would be mobsters. They were actually
laughing and having some fun, from what she could tell.

But, still, the entire place gave her a vibe that wasn’t of the good. She
could feel her spidey sense tingling, sending off little alarm bells in her
head. Something was off in this place. She just couldn’t put a finger on
what it was.

‘Get a grip,’ she told herself, smiling encouragingly at her date as he
escorted her to an empty booth. ‘You don’t live on the Hellmouth anymore.
There are no demons to jump out and attack at a moment’s notice.’

"I’ll be right back," her date murmured into her ear, daring to give her a
kiss on the tender lobe of flesh. "Gotta say hello to some people."

She nodded, not pretending to understand whom he had to meet and greet and
why she wasn’t invited along for the ride. After all – didn’t you introduce
the woman you were dating to your friends? They had been going out for a few
weeks and she had yet to meet anyone that he called ‘friend’ or ‘family’.
Yet, there he was, walking through the club as if he owned the place,
nodding and saying hellos along the way.

Green eyes narrowed to slits as she peered through the dark room, watching
as Derek, her date, made his way to the last group of people she had
noticed, the suits in the back. He greeted them with a nod of his head, and
some words were exchanged.

And then he sat down with them.

She growled in irritated frustration, ordering a glass of wine when a
waitress came over to take her drink order. Her eyes were practically
shooting fire at the man that had dared to call himself her boyfriend up to
that point. Now he was laughing and joking with his ‘friends’. Great. Where
did that leave her? Sitting here, that’s where.

"Alone and bored," she sighed, taking a sip of the wine that was placed
before her. There were some people on the dance floor, and she nodded her
head in time with the song that was being played.

"Would you like to dance?"

Willow turned to her right, raising an eyebrow at the man that stood there.
One of those mobster wannabes. At any other time she would have said no and
sent him on his way. He wasn’t her type in the least, even if he was
attractive.

But this was not any other time.

And she was pissed off at Derek. Maybe the sight of her dancing with another
man would spur him to leave his friends and. . .

Well, then what? She prompted herself silently. Did she really want to date
a man that ditched her at the first sight of his buddies? She smiled at the
man that was standing so patiently waiting for her answer, hands clasped in
front of him.

"What’s your name?"

He smirked and held out a hand to help her from the booth. "James."

"Well, James. I’m Willow. Thank you for rescuing me from my boredom." She
shot a glare in the direction of her ‘date’, unsurprised to see that he hadn
’t even noticed yet that she was now making her way to the dance floor,
handsome man in tow. She turned back to James and wrapped her arms around
his neck, giving in readily when he pulled her flush against his body. He
was definitely handsome, though he gave her senses a bad vibe all around. He
was evil, cunning; of that she had no doubt – she could sense it.

And there was something else. . . something she felt throbbing inside the
club. If these people were human she was the Pope.

And there was no way in Hell she would ever be mistaken for the Pope.

She forced down the unease that rose in the pit of her stomach and made
herself enjoy the dance. It felt good to be held by someone that desired
her. Derek didn’t want her that way. Or, if he did, he had made absolutely
no moves in that direction. She felt her body heat up under the touch of
this other man, her eyes closing as they swayed in time to the music, their
bodies rubbing together in ways that could only further enflame her senses.

"You are a treat. Why are you in here with that prick?

Willow giggled, opening her eyes to wink at James.

"Cuz I didn’t know men like you existed, of course."

He laughed and pulled her closer to him, close enough that she could feel
what she did to him. She was being a bad girl, a wanton girl. Evil Willow
may have been locked up tight, but that didn’t mean her influence wasn’t
still felt sometimes. And this was one of those times. She wanted Derek to
hurt, if it was even possible. She wanted him to get jealous and then. . .

Then she wanted to break up with him for being an ass and leaving her
sitting there with nothing to do.

Thank the Goddess for James, even though he did give off a weird vibe. She
didn’t know what he was, but she didn’t think she was in any danger from
him, either.

"Take your hands off my date."

Willow whirled in James’ grasp, her face contorting with anger.

"Your date?" she hissed quietly, well aware that the tones in the club were
low. She didn’t want to cause a scene. "Some date you were for me. Leaving
me all alone so you could go hang out with your buddies." She gestured
angrily in the direction of the back table, the occupants of which were
currently watching the scene on the dance floor with unveiled interest.

"You don’t understand," Derek began, running a hand through his
close-cropped brown hair. "I had some things to take care of."

"Well joy for you," Willow snapped. "James here was just showing me what a
good time really was – weren’t you, James?"

"Willow – he’s not your type. Really. Believe me on this. He’s bad news."

"Bad news? Funny, that’s what I was just thinking of you. Or was that ‘old
news’?" The red head raised an eyebrow at her decidedly ex-boyfriend and
then turned to James. "Do you think you could wait with me outside while I
call a cab? It’s gotten too hot in here for me."

James nodded and gave Derek a smirk that Willow would describe later, in her
most private thoughts, as deadly. It should have been a clue about who she
was really inviting outside in the dark with her. But she didn’t think twice
about it at that moment, though, because it suited her purposes. She wanted
Derek to hurt and, by the look on his face, he was hurting. She let James
drape an arm around her shoulders as they walked through the club to the
door, the cold night air hitting her like a slap in the face.

"Stupid, arrogant, son of a bitch. . ."

"Quite a mouth you have," James laughed, standing with her outside of the
club. She frowned, looking around at all of the motorcycles as she snapped
out the address of the club to the taxi company on her cell phone. She hung
up, giving James a smile.

"Thank you. Derek is such an asshole. I wish I had seen it before."

"How did you meet him?"

"We work together. At Luna Software," she answered offhandedly. "I’m a
programmer."

"Smart and beautiful. A complete package."

The look James gave her wasn’t something Willow was prepared for. She felt a
flutter in her heart, a reminder that she had already ascertained that he
wasn’t human. But she was safe, out here, on the street. Nothing could
happen to her. . .

In the blink of an eye, before she could even complete her thoughts on being
‘safe’, he had pulled her into a nearby alley, his hand covering her mouth.
She tried to bite, to scream, to kick and flail just as she would have done
back on the Hellmouth. He moved so quick. Too quick. Too strong. And she
recognized that feeling now, even if it was different from what she was used
to. Vampire, her brain was screaming now.

"You’ll be a nice little addition to Brujah, precious."

She struggled, not understanding what the hell a Brujah was, but
comprehending completely the meaning of the word ‘addition’. No, her heart
screamed, her soul spurred to heights of terror as she felt fangs pierce her
neck. The world descended to those two points of pain in her flesh, her
blood slowly draining from her body. She struggled again, getting a good
bite on his hand. He let go with a cry, his mouth still attached to her neck
like a great, suckling leech.

Willow screamed, but the sound was far too low, too soft. She was tired, so
tired.

But. . . there was someone running now. . . two someones. . . no – three. .
. She could hear their feet on the pavement, somewhere nearby. She just had
to last.

"NO!" She cried a little louder, her strength waning by the moment. She cast
within herself to find the power to hold on and came up with pure power, the
last that she held within her. Her very life force. She thrust out with the
energy, knocking her attacker off of her with a blast of fiery light even as
those footsteps reached the end of the alley. Her eyesight was failing as
she fell to the ground, a voice calling out her name. . .

"Willow!"

Derek, she thought – her eyes searching for him unseeingly. There was only
light and dark now.

"Goddess. . ." she whispered, a cry of pain stuck in her throat. She moaned.
"Kill him. . . Diana, Mother Goddess, avenge me. . .your daughter. . ."

The screams that filled the alley were not hers now. They were those of the
one that had attacked her. Someone was holding her, wiping at her face, and
the smell of burning flesh filled the air. James was struggling for his
life. Good. She had struggled. It got her nowhere.

"Willow. . . Sweetie. . . Hang on. . . I’m sorry. . ."

"Is. . . okay. ." she meant to murmur, but instead began to haltingly pray.
What was she holding on for? An ambulance? Had anyone bothered to call for
one? Shouldn’t there be sirens? Some noise? Instead everything seemed so
private, like a dirty secret in a back alley. She hurt, all over. Her throat
was raw, the pain increasing and then fading as blood trickled from the
wound in her neck. "Deliver . . . me . . .Goddess . . .from evil. . ."

"Willow, can you hear me?"

That was a voice she hadn’t heard before. She sighed. Didn’t they know how
hard it was just to speak? She could feel the little bit of her life leaving
her. Only her magic sustained her now. . .and it was going the way of her
blood, fading back to the earth. She licked her lips slowly and breathed,
"Yes?"

"I would offer you something. What has been done to you is a crime amongst
my kind. I can save you. . .It is the least I can do. . ."

"Vampires. . ." she whispered, a harsh sob somehow finding its way from her
tired mouth. "Hellmouth. . .tried to run. . .always catches up . . ."

"Hellmouth?" The mystery man was confused, that impeccably cultured voice
breaking under the strain of something he had not expected to hear from her,
it seemed. Where was the ambulance, she wondered? It hit her next that there
wasn’t going to be one. If he was a vampire, that meant Derek was one, too.
. . and they wouldn’t call an ambulance for her. Her body would be taken
away. . .can’t draw attention to the darker side of humanity. She knew the
routine all too well. "You’re from the Hellmouth?"

"Yes."

"Then you know at least enough to make a conscious choice. We are different
from what you are used to. We are not demons. Not soulless."

"Willow – just say yes. . .we can explain later. . .You’re dying. . ." Derek
now, urging her on. He didn’t want her to die. How quaint. This was all his
fault. All his stupid fault.

But she didn’t want to die. She wanted to be better so she could remind
Derek how much of this was his fault. Bitter. Petty. There were many words
for it, but it was all that sustained her, all that made her give in and
give her soul to this man in the darkness, the one that said he could save
her.

"Please. . . "

She heard a sigh and could almost picture the mystery man nodding. Something
was pressed to her mouth and she opened her lips instinctively, fighting
back the urge to gag when the warm liquid invaded her mouth. She knew this
part all too well. That was blood. . .and she was swallowing. She had to
swallow. . . she knew that. Just don’t think about it. . . That’s not blood.
. . its ketchup . . . just swallow the ketchup like a good little girl . . .
Think about it later. . .Pretend you didn’t sell your soul . . .Just. .
keep. . .swallowing. . .

Goddess, deliver me, she prayed silently, abandoning her body to the most
basic of instincts as her waking mind took refuge in the darkness of
unconsciousness.
~*~Part Two: Dealing~*~

". . . You cannot just pick up every stray from the street, Julian, you are the Prince. . . "

". . . Did you expect me to let her *die*, Lillie? What kind of monster do you take me for. . .attacked, by one of us. . . did not deserve. . ."

". . .Too big a heart. . . should have just left her there. . . "

Willow moaned in her sleep, the voices nearby too loud and too much. She winced, pain lancing through every cell as she woke.

"She’s waking. Leave. We will speak more later. You would do well to remember who runs this city in the meantime."

She knew that voice, her brain insisted, though the exact details of how she knew that were overridden by the unbearable pain in her body.

"Goddess . . ."

"Shhh. . ."

She stiffened, biting her lip to keep from crying out in both fear and pain. Who was this man that was holding her now, rocking her slowly like a mother would her child. She felt something for him, something indescribable. Something basic and needy. But those higher brain functions, including memory, were still eluding her.

"Drink. . . it will ease the pain. . ."

She didn’t dare open her eyes, some part of her rebelling against the idea of drinking whatever it was that this man was offering to her. She could smell it, though; that drink. A hazy memory came back to her.

Vampires.

Willow gasped, eyes flying open as she scrambled to get away from the man that was sitting there, next to her. She stood now in the thick carpet of the floor, on the opposite side of the bed from where she had started out. His dark eyes were wide with wonder, an almost impossibly handsome face watching her carefully. He had been there, in the club, at that table in the back. . .

"Willow." His voice was almost hypnotic, lulling her into a false sense of security with its deceptive calm. But she could remember now. She had gone to a club – Haven – with Derek.

Derek.

She shivered, silent tears beginning to run from her eyes. Derek had left her to talk to his friends and she had met James. . . James who she had known wasn’t human and she let him take her outside anyway. . .

Stupid her.

Alley.

Darkness.

Pain.

She sobbed, falling to her knees. So many years on the Hellmouth and she had fallen prey to a vampire. A stupid, no good vampire! She had tried so hard to get away from the monsters and had ended up not only getting attacked by one. . . but becoming one.

This man, the one that was trying to get her attention and was moving around the bed to reach her ever so slowly, he had saved her, if that’s what this damnation truly was. He had given her the choice, though. And she had taken it with open arms. Don’t let me die, had been her thoughts. And he had not. He had saved her. That’s why his voice rang a bell of recognition, why his entire presence seemed so familiar. He had held her, created her.

She cried, face in her hands, kneeling in the dark burgundy carpet. It matches the rest of the room perfectly, she noted absently, picturing what little she had caught a glimpse of during her frantic scramble away from the dark haired stranger.

"It will be okay. You must know that."

Again with the voice, soft and gentle. It was as though those words were trying to push away her insecurities.

It was hard to know anything, she wanted to scream. When everything you had once known was torn upside down in the blink of an eye. When your body was cramping up, dying, even as you sat on the floor. No, she wanted to tell him, she didn’t know a damn thing and wouldn’t believe for the world that everything would ‘be okay’. How could it be? She was a soulless monster. . .

She. . .

She paused, sniffling.

Not soulless?

Nope.

It still felt like it was there. Nice and all attached-like. Just like a good soul was supposed to be.

Well then . .

"How?"

The man raised an eyebrow at her. It was an eloquent gesture on a face that could have been described as classic. He was the type of handsome mystery man she had always wanted in her life, but never had the courage to go out and get. And now he was there, in front of her, and it had nothing to do with love or even friendship. She didn’t even know his name. . . but she was his body and soul. She knew that without a doubt, as if ingrained in the blood he had undoubtedly given her to secure her life with this dark magic of the living dead.

"I hardly think this is the time to be discussing the whys and wheres of your current situation. You are in pain. Let us deal with that first."

She frowned and glared at him with all of the emotion she could put behind it with her body trembling like a leaf in a good wind. "Tell me! How is it that I still have my soul?"

He smiled gently and kneeled next to her.

"You mentioned before that you were from the Hellmouth. Do you remember what I told you then? Only a few hours ago?"

Willow sighed, her brain reeling. Had it only been a few hours ago? Her attack and death? How time didn’t fly when one wasn’t having fun. The pain in her body was stifling the higher thought processes that she clung to so greedily during her waking hours, though.

"You said. . . " She sighed, shaking her head. "I’m sorry. It’s all a blur. . . So hard to think right now."

"Then don’t think. Act. We are different from those creatures you know of. Trust in that for the moment." She didn’t see what he did, her eyes on the carpet, but she certainly smelled the scent that filled the air. It was warmth and nourishment all rolled into something that she couldn’t, wouldn’t, give name to. Not yet, maybe not ever. "Drink."

It was a command and held the weight of power behind it. Without even thinking she reached for his arm, drawing it to her mouth. The second the blood hit her tongue she was lost, enjoying the gift that was being given so freely, feeling her body relax its painful contractions. She moaned, suckling like a newborn to its mother’s breast, gaining comfort and support from this simple gesture.

Time passed, though she was not aware of such a thing, and then he was pulling gently away from her. Through glazed eyes she watched as he licked the wound, taking the last traces of blood away with his tongue, and sealing the cut, leaving the skin smooth and unblemished. And then his sleeve was rolled back down, as if nothing had happened. As if only moments before she hadn’t been drinking from his wrist.

"You need to rest. This is a guest room and is at your disposal until such time as you are ready to leave."

Willow licked at her lips, her conscious mind screaming in horror at what was happening to her.

"Who are you? What -- ?"

"I am Julian Luna, the Kindred Prince of this city. And your Sire. Other questions can wait. Please trust me when I say that you are safe here and that I am more sorry that you can know for what has happened to you."

Sire.

She knew that word all too well.

Angelus was Drusilla’s Sire. And she, in turn, had Sired Spike.

It meant she was his to command. And this Prince thing? Well that wasn’t familiar to her, but it sounded important.

And then there was –

"You’re Julian Luna?" She laughed aloud, amazed at the inherent irony that followed her no matter how hard she tried to get away from it. "As a hard working employee of LunaSoft, can I formally request a few days off? I think I’m coming down with something. . ."

He laughed at her joke, giving her a wink as he turned towards the door.

"I’ll see what I can do, Willow. Get some rest, if you can. If not – send someone for me. I don’t care what time it is. There will be a guard outside of your door – for your safety as well as that of the other household members."

She nodded; mute, watching his back until it was obscured by the closing of the bedroom door. The words he had spoken last rang in her mind, bouncing back and forth like some sort of twisted lullaby as she laid back on the bed, snuggling deep under blankets that felt like raw silk.

The guard outside the door was to make sure that she didn’t go running off in the middle of the night, captured by her new senses, to find something warm and living to feed off of. Fledglings in Sunnydale were like that, too – no brains, just instinct.

She felt the tears coming again and wished that Julian was there to do that nifty comfort thing he seemed so good at. A good hug sounded very nice. . .

But with her body tired and worn out from a hard night of death and violence, Willow soon found herself asleep, all thoughts of comfort put off until morning.

~*~Part Three: And Then the Morning Comes~*~

Willow woke to the chiming of a clock, somewhere else in the house, the tone ringing out ten in the morning. She stretched, still caught blissfully in the moment between sleep and wakefulness; the moment when the reality of the darkness in the world had yet to come crashing in. That time of non-thinking nirvana.

She snuggled deeper into the blankets, reveling in the illusion of warmth and security that they offered; forestalling that moment when sleep would lift its hazy gauze from her brain. The blankets were soft, silken; they felt more than wonderful on her skin, caressing her in the way that she wished a lover would.

Lover.

Derek.

"Godddess!" She cried, sitting up. Her hands dug into the mattress, into the blankets, clawing at them with fear and terror. Panic was rolling over her in waves that were manifesting, through her powers, in visible currents of destruction. There was screaming, and she realized with a start that it was coming from her own mouth. Those high-pitched shrieks of fear and terror were pouring from her lips and she couldn’t stop them.

The lamp broke, crushed by her power. Other things in the room were shaking.

She closed her eyes, praying silently to her Goddess to end the pain she felt, this grief and utter feeling of betrayal. She was a dead thing, the very type she had fought her entire life against. She was one of them.

Hands were on her shoulders, shaking her.

"You must calm down, Willow. You must."

The witch, now Kindred, recognized that voice, the one that was still murmuring low in her ear, soothing her frazzled senses. She responded as if on autopilot, her screaming sobs slowly easing off, to mere whimpers of mental torment and pain.

"Open your eyes, look at me."

She shook her head, sobbing soundlessly now, unwilling to face the reality of her situation. She was a vampire. A good for nothing, murderous vampire. Just because she had yet to take a life meant nothing to her. Not when it would happen oh so very soon. She would have to feed eventually and then. . .

"Willow," the tone was commanding now. "Open. Your. Eyes."

Without thinking she obeyed that strong voice, opening her eyes to meet the chocolate brown ones of the man that she had only seen for the first time the night before. She stilled in his arms, watching him hesitantly. The thoughts that were plaguing her only moments before fled under that intense gaze. She sighed, exhaling softly the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

"I’m sorry. . ." she stammered with a shake of her head, trying to dislodge herself from the comforting touch he was offering. "I was so loud. I’m so sorry. Please. . . You were probably busy. . . I disturbed you. . ."

He held tight to her, though, and try as she might she could not get away from those strong arms.

"It is no trouble to me," Julian murmured, grabbing hold of her chin and forcing her once more to meet his eyes. "Are you in pain?"

She shook her head and laughed, hollowly. "Not physically, at least. The only pain I have is in my head. Too many thoughts. Bad, evil thoughts. All those years. . . and this is what my life has come down to. . ."

The crying was threatening to begin again, and it seemed as if Julian could sense that. He grabbed hold of her hand, squeezing it gently, in the manner of a friend or mentor.

"I realize that this is all very new to you. And we need to talk. But let’s not start with the big things," he smiled, brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Get washed up and Johnny, outside your door, will show your downstairs to my study."

Willow nodded, mutely, and watched him go; feeling the comfort recede with him. She stood, mechanically, walking to the adjoined bathroom. The room was lavish, almost disgustingly so, and she would have loved to have spent hours just relaxing in the large, marble tub. If she had another chance, another night to spend here, amidst the exquisite decadence, then she would most definitely make use of it.

It was in the mirror over the sink that she got her first physical reminder of just what she now was. A vampire. Blood red tears had stained her face in crimson streaks. She grabbed blindly for a washcloth, running it under lukewarm water until such time as it was wet enough for her to scrub furiously at the redness. It came away, leaving her just as pale and pure as she had always been. But was her skin just a little paler now? Somewhat more ghostly than she had been in her life.

She fought back the urge to sob, biting her lower lip. Crying would do her no good and it would get her none of the answers that she so desperately needed. What would become of her now?

The answers to that lay in the man that was waiting to speak with her. Her Sire. She shivered at the thought, both in revulsion and something that tasted suspiciously like lust.

"Bad Willow," she muttered, staring into her own eyes via the mirror. "No lusting after the man that helped make you what you are today. . . Lust bad. Living good. Being dead – also of the bad. Being undead. . . well, we’ll just have to see where that goes."

With her face clean there was little left for her to do. Her clothes were a mess, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. Blood – her blood – stained the material. Her hose were gone, probably torn to shreds during the conflict with James, her would-be Sire, now nothing more than a pile of ash if those screams she had heard as she lay dying were any indication.

It filled her with some great sense of vindication to know that the one that had tried to basically kill her was now dead, while she still lived on in some fashion. He would never again walk this earth, never know the pleasures of the flesh or the beauty of the night. And she would.

Forever.

There was that crying again. She growled at her reflection in frustration, once again using the washcloth to wipe away blood-tinged tears.

Before she anymore useless thoughts of self-pity and doubt could form in her head, Willow exited the bathroom, walking to the door of her bedroom. The man waiting on the other side was dressed like a street thug, in her opinion. Much like those bikers had been in the club last night. She gave him a hesitant smile.

"Are you Johnny? Because Julian said to ask you to bring me to his study if you are."

The grin he gave her was friendly, sympathetic. But there were no words exchanged between them. She followed him through the house, down a spiraling staircase. It was a home like those she could imagine in a magazine about the rich and famous. Everywhere she looked there was yet another sign of wealth. Paintings, vases, carpets that she just knew were handmade and probably antique.

‘Well, he did say something about being the Prince, whatever that means. Maybe Princes get big houses with nice pretty things?’ she thought fear of the conversation that was about to happen beginning as they stopped outside a door. Her escort knocked once, waited for a response from within, and then swung open the door, gesturing for her to go inside. He wouldn’t be joining her, it seemed.

She entered the room, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress in a moment of self-consciousness. What she wouldn’t give for a change of clothes at that moment, to not be surrounded by such luxury and feel like she just stepped off the battlefield.

"Feeling any better?"

Willow heard Julian’s voice before she actually saw him, her green eyes darting to the chair that he was seated in, a high-backed contraption that looked scrumptiously comfortable in all of its leather monstrousness.

"I guess," she nodded, giving him a half-hearted smile. "Am I supposed to feel better? Because, you know, if so – just tell me and I’ll double my efforts to getting there . . . "

He shook his head, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"I would be shocked and concerned if you did feel ‘better’ this soon. The last twenty-four hours have been very trying."

Willow snorted.

"I don’t think trying is the word for it, Mister Luna."

"Please, call me Julian," he corrected mildly.

She nodded, letting her eyes wander from his face to the room. Everything seemed so much brighter, the colors more vivid. Loosing herself in them could be very possible, she understood almost immediately.

"I must apologize again for what has happened. What the Brujah did was unacceptable."

"Brujah?" Willow’s eyes darted back to Julian’s. "He said that word, too. When he was. . ." She frowned, the memories more than just unpleasant. "Anyway. . . what does it mean? You aren’t like the vampires back home. I mean. . . we aren’t. . . I guess. . . I still feel like I have a soul . . .It wouldn’t hurt this much if I didn’t, at least, I don’t think it would. I could be wrong. I’ve never really been on this side of things, you know. Usually just made with the staking. . . not much talking involved in that. And I’m babbling. I do that. Just stop me."

She blushed when he started chuckling, the sound warm and inviting. This was no demonic creature, no hellish being that was lacking a soul. He was just as human as the people she saw passing her on the street. Or, at least, he did a good impersonation of a human being. He couldn’t really be one, she knew, because he was her Sire and that meant he had to be a vampire.

"Brujah is a clan. One of five in this city." He held up a hand ticking them off one by one. "Toreador – the artists. Gangrel – the wild ones, like Johnny. Nosferatu – who you have not had the pleasure of even seeing yet. Brujah – like the late James. And Venture – the clan of power. That would be you, and me, and your Derek."

Willow’s eyes flashed silver, anger rising before she could quell it.

"He is not ‘my’ Derek," she hissed. "This is all his fault. If he hadn’t left me there, by myself, I never would’ve gotten mad at him. Or, if we want to go back even further than that, if he hadn’t taken me to that club I also wouldn’t be in this situation."

Julian nodded. "I cannot stop any animosity that you may feel towards Derek. And if you choose to have no relationship with him past this point, that is your choice as well. But please bear in mind that he was summoned to the Haven last night at my request. And he neglected you for that period of time because he was speaking with me regarding clan issues. So – for that, I am to blame."

The red head frowned.

"No. I’m not going to blame you. Derek made a choice to take me with him. He took me into an environment where it could not possibly have been safe for me and left me there. I won’t blame you in the least for that. Though. . . I guess I don’t blame him either. I knew the room the was full of non-humans from the moment we stepped in. I knew James wasn’t human, though I didn’t know what he was until the moment he attacked me. And yet I still chose to go outside with him. This is as much my fault as Derek’s."

"You . . . knew? How?" Was it just her imagination or did Julian seem just a little worried when he leaned forward now, his dark eyes watching her with great interest.

"The same way I called down the vengeance of my Goddess on James last night," she shrugged. "I’m a witch."

The corner of Julian’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "How is it that I’ve had a witch working at one of my companies for months and I never realized it."

"Shields," Willow stated very matter-of-factly. "You can’t tell what I am when I have them up. No one can. A sensitive could walk up to me, shake my hand, and never get the slightest twitch. Well. . .maybe not now, I guess. Not really sure how this new. . .change. . .is going to affect me or my powers."

She sighed, feeling heartbroken yet again, as she realized for the first time that her powers could very well be changed.

Everything was falling apart.

~*~*~

Julian watched his newest Childe as she sat there, struggling to overcome emotions he knew were strong and painful for her. She was a witch, a software programmer, and originally from the Hellmouth. That was all he really knew about her, other than some miscellaneous life details Derek had given him on the way back from the Haven last night. The young woman was twenty-four and had left home due to some kind of tragedy she had never been ready to talk with him about.

Aside from that he knew relatively nothing about the woman that was now in his clan, in his life. For, indeed, she would be a good part of his life for the next few months, as he guided her through the world of their kind and taught her what she would need to know. He had already placed her on a leave of absence with LunaSoft for the next two weeks, which he hoped would be enough time to stabilize her control and get her through the worst of the emotional stresses that she would face. This was his role as her Sire, and he had no intentions of shirking those duties even if her Embrace was done at the spur of the moment and with no prior planning.

Not that she was a bad choice for his clan. In fact, knowing the little he did know about her, Julian could honestly say that she would due well within Ventrue – even if she was one of the few witches to ever make it into his elite bloodlines. She was a professional and hardworking. She was powerful. All good qualities to have.

And, on another hand, she was beautiful. Surely having her around for two weeks, or more, would not be burdensome in the least. The way her emerald eyes could be both piercing and gentle at the same time was a marvel. And her passions were such that he could feel them in that bond that they shared – sorrow and anger being the key two that he had been able to feel already.

"You will stay here for the next couple of weeks," he murmured. "So that we may have time to get you adjusted to this world, our culture. It is necessary –" He stopped. She was nodding, not complaining or protesting. It was not what he had expected.

"That’s fine," she sighed, giving him what he could only guess was her bravest smile. "I’ll need some things from my apartment, of course. Fresh clothes being number one on the list."

He laughed at the little wrinkle of her nose she gave, in obvious distaste of her current state of dress.

"We can go now, if you like."

He knew what her next question was before she even opened her mouth. The way her eyes darted to the clock, and then the closed curtains, and then back to him with a raise of her brows.

"I’ve told you before that we’re different from those creatures you knew on the Hellmouth. We can go out during the day as long as we have fed recently and are not injured. Crosses are also of absolutely no use against a good majority of our kind."

"Wow," she whispered, her eyes far away with what he assumed were memories of where she was from. "Super vamps."

"Kindred," he corrected gently. "We call ourselves Kindred. Vampire is just a name that humans gave to us. There are many differences between us and those demons that have been warped by the Hellmouth. We, for instance, are still in full possession of our souls, as you have already learned. So – unless you are feeling hungry we are good to leave now."

He raised an eyebrow in question, and saw her blanche, her lips compress in a thin, tight line.

"Nope. No hunger here. Uh uh," she stammered, shaking her head frantically from side to side, fear evident in her eyes.

Julian sighed. He should have known things were going along too fine. Here was going to be the major problem, he could see now. He slid from his chair, coming to kneel in front of her.

"Willow, you must listen to me and listen to me carefully. While we are different from those creatures that you know of, we are still what we are. If you neglect the hunger then you will end up no better than them, killing in a moment without control of yourself or your instincts. I am not going to ask you to hunt right away, not until you are ready. But you must let me know when you are hungry. I would not want for us to add guilt over a senseless death to the long list of other things you need to work through. In time you will learn to hunt and feed without killing your victim."

He breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded, her eyes registering understanding, even if it was only a grudging acceptance. He had no doubt in his mind that there would be another conflict over the matter later, when it was time for her to learn to hunt and feed on her own.

"So – are we ready to go, then?"

She caught his eyes and smiled ruefully, gesturing down at her ruined dress.

"More than ready."

~*~Part Four: Lillie, Sasha, and Others~*~

There wasn’t much that she had a chance to learn that day, with her Sire being who he was. The Prince of the City. Pretty amazing that, she admitted in her private moments. Little Willow Rosenberg had gone from being a mild mannered witch and computer programmer to being a Childe to the Kindred Prince of San Francisco. And, when she wasn’t being sad and frightened, that was a pretty exciting thing.

At least in her opinion.

Kindred.

Not vampires.

Well, *yes* to the vampire bit and *no* to the being like the ones back in Sunnydale part. They drank blood, yes. But did they kill? Not if they could help it. Did they still have their souls? That was looking like a big old ‘yes’. They could also go out in the sunshine for very limited periods of time. Crosses and garlic were nothing more than things to them, certainly nothing to make them go screaming or burning or anything like that. A stake through the heart could be quite painful, but it didn’t necessarily have to be deadly.

All of this, and more that she was sure she would learn soon enough, Willow had slowly picked up through her short afternoon with her Sire. He had promised that tomorrow would be more filled with information and talking – but that he just hadn’t had time to clear his schedule for today. He was a busy man and she didn’t begrudge him his meetings one bit.

Though that time alone did leave her the opportunity to dwell on her thoughts a little more than could be considered healthy. For instance – she was a vampire. That one was hitting her pretty hard and there were moments that she could almost say that she would have preferred to die. She would live longer than the few mortal friends she had still, assuming they chose to remain her friends once they found out about her new condition. Spike and Angel, of course, would always be around – someone she could reminisce about the ‘old days’ with a few centuries from now when the weight of the world had come crashing to her doorstep.

Willow sighed, a tear trickling out of the corner of her eye to roll haphazardly down the side of her face. It left a trail of redness in its wake, across the pale perfection of her skin. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing out loud, forcing the tears away as footsteps came up behind her.

"Why so sad?"

The red head looked up into the eyes of another woman – a dark haired creature that could only be described as sophisticated. She gave this newcomer a sad smile.

"Just thinking about . . . things. . ."

The woman nodded and took a sip from the glass she was holding. Blood, Willow’s brain registered with a sickening thud into the pits of her stomach. That was one of the many things she did not think she would be able to get used to. Drinking blood. Only when she was hungry, which she most certainly was not at that moment, did her senses overwhelm her enough for her to just revel in the act of gaining nourishment. But this was not one of those times, and the sight of the other woman drinking from the glass made her feel ill.

"My name is Lillie. I live here as well."

"Willow," she held her hand out, shaking Lillie’s with a gentle squeeze.

"Well, Willow. Let me give you some advice," Lillie smiled, but Willow could see the icy cold of winter behind it. "Don’t dwell on things too long. Feel lucky that you are still alive, and that you will never grow old or sick again. The events surrounding your Embrace were tragic, yes – but you really couldn’t have stumbled into a better situation than you have now. Childe of the Prince. It is a place of power. And one so pretty as yourself, I’m sure you will have many suitors from within our ranks in short time, eager to keep your mind off of your new ‘position’ in life."

Willow snorted. "Oh yeah, mousy little me. They’ll be breaking down my door, I’m sure."

"You’ll see," the other woman smirked. "Just one thing – don’t even think about laying a hand on Julian. You see – he’s mine."

With that Lillie was gone, and Willow was left feeling even more low than she had before the woman had come out to ‘talk’. It seemed to her that the entire reason for Lillie’s visit hadn’t been to make her feel better at all, it had been to warn her away from Julian; to size up the ‘competition’.

Well, Willow didn’t want any part of Julian – despite his nummy handsomeness, looks that were certainly drool-worthy.

And again there was someone coming up behind her. Didn’t the people in this house realize that when someone was outside, in the dark, nearly thirty feet from the house itself; that they just wanted to be left alone? She sighed, again stifling the tears that she longed to shed.

"Hey, there – you’re Julian’s newest, right?"

This time the voice that was speaking was kinder, softer. The woman it was attached to looked like a biker slut, though – at least in Willow’s opinion. Curly red-brown hair, overtop of a face that could make a painter weep for joy over its angelic countenance.

"Yeah. Willow." She again found herself shaking someone’s hand, shocked when the other woman dropped down to sit beside her.

"I’m Sasha. Why’re you out here all alone? Julian’s working himself into a fine frenzy over it. Thinks you’re unhappy or upset with him or something."

"I’m not, though. . . Not really . . ." Willow shook her head, unable to express what she was feeling in her heart. She wasn’t upset with Julian, she just didn’t want to be around him right at that moment. If he hadn’t been there she probably would have died, and then she wouldn’t be feeling like this. Her sorrow was so much more intense now that she had joined Kindred society.

"Let me guess," Sasha grinned, and it was saucy and full of life and attitude. "You feel happy to be alive on one hand, depressed beyond all Hell that you’re a ‘vampire’," she made the little quote marks with a wry smirk of her lips. "On the other hand. You both adore Julian since he’s your Sire and resent him for doing this to you. And, above all else, you feel like you will never be happy again."

The laugh that escaped Willow’s mouth was bitter. "Yeah, I guess that sums it up."

"That’s how I felt, too. My Embrace was forced – I didn’t get a choice one way or the other. It was done as a political move by my clan’s Primogen at the time, to try to get under Uncle Julian’s skin."

"Uncle?" Willow blinked. "Julian is your Uncle?"

Sasha giggled. "Hard to believe that we’re cut from the same cloth, isn’t it? The only thing that separates us now is the one thing that should have kept us together for all of time – our blood."

"What do you mean?"

"Well . . .Julian is Ventrue. I’m Brujah. The two just don’t mix, usually. You’re too young yet to feel it, the way our blood changes us, molds us to its whims. That’s why we can sit here, talking like there’s no problem. Give it a month or two and you’ll see. It’s stupid and petty – but we have no control over it."

"And for one second there you had been making me feel better," Willow sighed, her eyes fixed on the woods behind the house. There were things moving in there, little things – rabbits, birds. She wanted to join them, to race through the trees, feel the earth beneath her feet. The longer she sat there, the stronger the feeling became.

"And you should still feel better – but don’t rush it. . . What you feel is what you feel. And we can’t change that." Sasha stood up, giving the other woman a smile. "I’m not gonna tell you that you should go in and set Uncle Julian’s mind at ease . . . But, really, you should. . . soon."

Willow nodded, turning to watch the other woman walk away. The tears that she had been holding inside were absent for the moment, having retreated under the face of cool reason. She wasn’t the only one to feel like this and there was hope that it would pass.

With one last, longing look at the forest and the freedom from her troubles that it represented, the red head stood and made her way back towards the house.

She could hear voices coming from the study the moment she set foot in the door, one of which was Julian’s. . .

And the other was a voice she had hoped not to have to hear for quite some time.

"Derek," she growled, low in her throat, stepping into the doorway of the room.

Julian glanced towards her, a look of resignation on his face. "As I was just explaining to you – she is not yet ready for visitors."

"Willow. . ." Derek took a step forward without thinking, holding out a hand to her. There was something in his eyes, a deeper sense of caring than she wanted to think about. Silly boy. If he had cared he would never have taken her to the Haven. Never.

"Go away, Derek. I don’t want to talk to you. This is your fault. Never forget that. You shouldn’t have taken me to that club. I was human. It was a club full of Kindred. Did you ever stop to think that the outcome to that could *not* be good?!?"

Her voice had risen to a feverish shriek, and tears were skittering over her cheeks. A rage unlike any she had ever felt before was burning in the back of her mind, treading stealthily into her heart with every moment. She wanted to rip his eyes out, tear his heart from his chest. This was his fault. *His* *Fault*. And then there were strong arms around her, holding her back, forcing her to watch as Julian ushered Derek from the room. She didn’t care that her ex-boyfriend looked saddened. She was sad, too. Sad because of a life she never had a chance to lead because of his ill-fated actions. She struggled against the one holding her, feeling her resolve weaken as the object of her anger faded from sight.

"Calm down. . . This isn’t getting you anywhere. . ."

She stilled, listening to the soft voice in her ear. The one holding her.

"Cash – you can let her go now." Julian seemed more amused than anything by her outrage, his dark eyes twinkled with laughter. "Willow – I’d like you to meet Cash, my head of security."

She turned to glare at the one that had been holding her, face softening just a bit. He had only been doing his job, after all.

"It’s nice to meet you."

"Pleasure’s all mine," Cash smirked, eyes darting back to Julian. "You want me in here or . . . "

"You’re off for the night," Julian dismissed him with a wave of the hand.

And then it was just the two of them, in the room together. Lillie’s veiled threat came back to Willow quite suddenly, and she wondered if perhaps the other woman hadn’t been too hasty in her warning. Julian Luna was very handsome.

Very, very handsome.

"I’m not upset with you," she blurted out, wincing. That wasn’t the way she had wanted to start this conversation.

"I see my niece has been speaking with you," he sighed, shaking his head. "She still has yet to learn what ‘confidential’ means."

Willow laughed. "I don’t think she likes seeing you unhappy. Do you blame her, really? But that doesn’t change things. I’m not upset with you or unhappy with you or anything of that nature. . . I’m just adjusting. And I tend to adjust by taking myself away and being alone. That was my nature before and I can’t really see anything changing that. My friends hated it . . .I’d wander off, not a smart thing to do on the Hellmouth as you may know, and then they’d have to come find me. I think I enjoyed that part most of all – the ‘being found’, knowing someone cared enough to look. . ."

She sighed, leaving unsaid what she felt. There was no one left to care enough to look for her now.

"I would have come for you if I had known you wanted me to."

Green eyes stole up to stare into brown. "Well, now you know."

Julian nodded. He was smiling, and the expression made him look that much more the handsome, in Willow’s opinion – bad, naughty opinion though it was. He gestured for her to sit, pouring two glasses from a bottle on the table. It was blood, she knew it even before the scent hit the air. With a trembling hand she took the glass he proffered, holding it as though it were the most vile thing to ever touch her hand.

"Drink. . . slowly," he commanded. "While we talk. Tell me more about your friends? Sunnydale?"

Willow smiled, forgetting about the glass in her hand for the moment as she began the tale of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer – and her faithful Scoobies.

~*~Part Five: Basement Benevolence~*~

The next afternoon found Willow again by herself, wandering the mansion as
she had been told she could. She was hesitant at first, but Julian had
insisted, reminding her in that all too sympathetic voice that this would be
her home for, at the very least, a couple of weeks. She should explore and
acquaint herself with it.

So that was just what she was doing.

The mansion was wonderful, filled with expensively decadent things that made
her think of money and power with every glimpse. There were paintings and
vases, small statuettes of bronze and gold, and a vast assortment of items
that she was relatively sure belonged in a museum and not a private home.
The furniture was top of the line, wonderful pieces in leather and polished
wood, decorated in accents of gold. The floor of the front foyer was marble.

It was like being in a fairytale mansion.

Except. . .

"This isn’t a fairytale," she reminded herself quietly, descending a winding
stone staircase that seemed to lead into a cellar of sorts. She paused on
the landing at the bottom, looking around until her eyes alit on another set
of stairs, these wooden, that led down even further. "And there won’t be any
happy endings."

"Why is that, child?"

Willow’s head turned with a sharp glance to her right, her foot hovering
over the last step. There was someone there, in the darkness, just beyond
her line of sight. This place was a room of sorts, with chairs and some
easels, paintings in various states of completion.

"I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize anyone lived down here – totally didn’t mean
to intrude."

"You are not intruding." Again that cultured voice, coming from the
darkness. She took the last step down and looked around. "You are Julian’s
newest, correct?"

She nodded, smiling somewhat sadly at about where the voice was coming from.
"For better or worse, it seems."

"You make it sound so unpleasant," the voice was moving out of the darkness
now, and she could not have been less prepared for the sight that greeted
her eyes. Only years of life on the Hellmouth, of seeing the oddities that
nature could throw out there, kept her face blank, her expression neutral.
"You hide your horror well for one so young."

The red head laughed, shrugging at the creature’s own candid assessment of
the situation. "I’ve seen worse."

"Indeed?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then allow me to formally introduce myself.
I am Daedelus, Primogen for the Nosferatu clan."

She held out her hand, shaking his with a firm grip. "Willow. . . but you
already knew that, I think."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. "So, tell me young one, what has
happened for you to look on this as such an unpleasant thing?"

Willow laughed, taking the chair he indicated, at once falling into an easy
rapport with this creature that seemed to take naturally to the role of
confidant.

"It’s not that its unpleasant, really. . ." she paused, shaking her head.
"Actually, I take that back. This goes against everything I fought against
for so long back home. Since I was fifteen I fought to keep the ‘monsters’
off of the Hellmouth. I worked against the forces of darkness, against the
forces of evil. . . "

"And now you have joined sides with that which you fought against? Do you
truly believe that?"

"No. . . yes. . .well, sometimes. It’s hard to explain. The vampires back
home are just ungodly things. Demons, if you would. They have no souls. I
know that’s not what I became. . . it’s just that it is difficult to
reconcile what I know versus what I’ve always seen."

Daedelus nodded in what looked like an understanding way to Willow. She was
a woman at odds with herself, was it evident to those around her? To her
Sire that spent most of the night trying to comfort her when her nightmares
overrode her ability to sleep peacefully? Did any of them really realize
what an awful twist of fate this was for her? She dreaded the moment that
she would have to tell Buffy and Xander. . . dreaded it like she dreaded
nothing else in the world. They were her only friends and, if they turned
their backs on her, she would truly have nothing.

"In time you will see yourself for what you have become and not for what you
assume you are," Daedelus murmured gently, leaning forward so that his
elbows were resting on his knees. "Until such time, try to cope with what
you have been given, and understand that it is better than death, no matter
what you have railed against during your short life."

Willow let that same sad smile creep across her face. He was right, of
course. Wasn’t living in this form better than being a corpse six feet
under? He was making the most of his life, after all – and he had bigger
obstacles than she did. He was deformed and could not travel out in normal
society. She still could do so.

Wasn’t that something to cling to? Even at moments like this when she felt
as though her entire world was shifting out of control right in front of her
very eyes?

"Julian will be most upset if he thinks I have made you cry," Daedelus
teased in what Willow construed as a playful way, handing her a
handkerchief. "Please, dry your face and be at ease. No one in this house
will hurt you."

She snorted before she could stop herself, paling at what she had done.

"Who has given you reason to worry?" The kind voice was gone, replaced by
something sharper, more dangerous. It was not directed at herself, however;
she could tell that much at least.

"Would you believe me if I said no one?" she responded timidly, staring into
his eyes. "No, huh?" She sighed, shaking her head as she stared down at the
handkerchief that was now dotted with her bloody tears. "It’s nothing,
really. She didn’t threaten me per se. . . not really. Just told me that
Julian was hers, implied I should keep my distance." She paused, frowning.
"Sorta annoyed me, too. I mean, I haven’t made any moves on Julian. Hadn’t
planned to, either. And then there’s this woman out of nowhere telling me
that he’s hers. . ."

"Lillie." The wrath was gone from her companion’s voice, replaced with
weariness. "She is a long time . . .friend. . .of Julian’s. She is more
possessive of him than their relationship warrants. If she has said this to
you then she has stepped over the line yet again."

"It’s nothing, really," Willow shook her head. "I don’t want to cause
problems."

Daedelus shook his head once, sharply. "You will learn quickly that the
maneuverings in the Kindred world are all very political. We have rules and
laws that we must live by. Lillie is walking a fine line with this. As one
of Julian’s childer you are one of the most important things in his life –
certainly above any lover – long term or no. By attempting to place herself
between that bond she is dangerously close to stepping over that line."

Willow nodded, attempting to at least act as though she understood. She
turned her head, letting the silence stretch between them. To ask him to say
nothing to anyone else about what she had said would be in vain. He was too
incensed over it for this to pass as nothing more than a jealous woman
defending her ‘property’. So instead of continuing on the same line of
conversation, she chose to derail it entirely. Grin eyes met his again, a
smile creeping over her lips as she pointed to one of the easels she had
noticed upon first entering the room.

"You paint?"

Daedelus smiled softly. "I try."

"It’s fun. You know. Getting all messy. Expressing yourself. Though. . .
cleaning up is a pain in the butt."

That brought a hearty laugh from her companion’s mouth.

"A Ventrue that not only enjoys painting, but getting messy as well. Why do
I feel as though you will be a shock to our entire world, little one?"

Willow shrugged.

Why did she get that feeling, too?


~*~Part Six: ~*~

Two weeks later Willow was no more settled into her new life than she had
been the morning she woke up and realized for the very first time that she
was, for all purposes, a vampire.

It still chilled her inside to think that she was no longer technically
alive.

And the blood thing?

Well let’s just say that she was trying really hard not to think about that
part at all.

Ever.

She was trying to settle in, really, she was. But it was difficult. First
there was the tension between herself and Lillie, Julian’s self-proclaimed
girlfriend. The woman couldn’t seem to take the hint that Willow had no
intention of moving in on her territory.

Even if Julian was one of the finest pieces of flesh ever to parade before
her eyes. Even if just being near him was enough to make her hormone levels
go through the roof, make her want to rip his clothes off and ride him like
a wild pony. It didn’t help matters any that he was her Sire and that there
was a naturally close bond between the two of them, one that bordered on
intimate in nature. He had the same bond with Sonny, his other Childe. That
was just the way things were and she was learning to accept it.

Lillie just wasn’t making things easy on her.

Then there was the other problem, the one she was intent on solving today
one way or another before she went crazy.

Her boredom.

She looked into the full-length mirror that adorned one wall of the room she
had come to call ‘hers’, and smiled at what she saw there. A beautiful,
vibracious young woman, ready to head back out into the work field and get
her assignments done.

But would Julian let her?

She sighed, running one hand over the button-up shirt she had chosen for
this auspicious day and then glancing towards the door. This wouldn’t be her
first time mingling with humans. She had done that already on more than one
occasion at The Haven. Still, if her control slipped in even the slightest
way she knew there would be hell to pay, both from her Sire and the
community in general.

And she didn’t want that.

"But I’m going to work anyway," she told herself firmly, her hands clenching
into fists for the anticipated battle between herself and Julian.

When she finally made her way down to the first floor he was no where to be
found, though. And a quick inquiry with the first person she came across,
one of the Gangrels that were forever on guard within the complex, told her
only that Julian had some ‘things’ to attend to that morning and that he
would be back mid-afternoon.

All the better for her, really. She could slip out of the complex and not
even have to deal with Julian’s fears or anger over her decision until she
got off of work that afternoon.

Without another thought to the possible consequences of her actions the red
head slipped on a pair of sunglasses and darted outside to her car.

She was going to work and couldn’t be happier.

~*~*~

Halfway through the day Willow began to realize exactly why Julian had
mentioned once or twice that she may not be ready to go back to work. It was
difficult dealing with her coworkers again, all of whom thought she had been
out of town dealing with some ‘family issues’. They would come up and touch
her in ways she knew they meant to be comforting.

It was far from comforting, though. In fact, tempting might be a better word
to describe what they were. The smell of their skin, their sweat and their
blood pumping in their veins. It was so easy to just imagine taking one of
them into a closet and ---

"Willow."

The red head jerked her head up, startled out of her thoughts by a voice she
had never expected to hear here, in her office.

"Sonny, hey. How are you. . ."

The dark-skinned man raised an eyebrow at her, his lips pressed together in
a tight line.

"Julian is worried sick. Why are you here?"

"Why am I at work?" She stammered, the glare on her primogen’s face enough
to set her stomach to quaking. "Well. . . you see. . . at work. . .you work.
. .and I thought that I’d come in and, you know, do some. . .work."

"Work." He repeated, shaking his head. "You did not consult with Julian
first? He’s ---"

"Angry?" Willow supplied.

"Worried." Sonny corrected. "Though anger might come later, when he knows
where you went. He was frantic. You didn’t even leave him a note or call his
cell phone or anything!"

The youngest member of the Ventrue clan winced at the tone of Sonny’s voice.
"I didn’t mean to make him worry. . . I just wanted to get out of the
complex, to start my life again."

"And do you really think you’re ready for that?" Now his tone was softly
pleading, cajoling. He wanted her to see for herself that she hadn’t been
ready to make this step.

"No," she sighed, leaning back into her chair and shutting her eyes. "It’s
so hard. . ."

"And we knew that and didn’t want you to deal with it yet. Your control is
not firm enough."

"I realize that now," she admitted, giving him a hesitant smile. "Think
Julian’s gonna kill me?"

Sonny smirked.

"I hardly think he went through all the trouble of saving you only to
slaughter you the first time you did something he disapproved of.
However ---" And here he paused, adding some extra weight behind his words.
"As the childe of the Prince you really must think more closely about how
your actions affect him and his standing. Showing such blatant disrespect
for his rules will only harm you, and him, in the end."

Willow bit her lip, nodding. She sighed and stood, grabbing her purse.

"I’ll go back to the complex now. Thanks for the pep talk."

Sonny chuckled, laying a hand on her shoulder as she made to pass by him.
"Don’t worry about it. You’ll adjust eventually, just stop trying to rush
things."

"I’ll try," she offered with a shrug. They were walking out of the building
now, she’d call from the complex to let her boss know she wasn’t ready to be
back yet. Or Julian could. He carried more weight than she did, after all.
"I just was never really good at sitting at home and doing nothing all day."

"Ask Julian for something to do, then. Tell him how you feel. Its what he’s
there for."

"Thanks," Willow nodded again. "You’re one helluva ‘older brother’ Sonny –
you’ve even got the speeches down already."

Sonny smirked, motioning her towards the car. "Go. And tell Julian I’ll be
by later tonight."

"Of course," she smiled, thinking to herself –

‘As long as he doesn’t kill me first.’

~*~*~

Willow was relieved to find that her Sire was so happy to have her safely
back in the complex that he didn’t once turn any of his legendary anger on
her. She swallowed, thinking back on Sonny’s advice.

"I was just . . you know. . bored. I’m not used to sitting around all day
every day for weeks."

Julian nodded. "I can see where that would become tiresome. I can arrange to
have access to your workstation set up in the downstairs study if you like."

"Can you? Really?" The prospect bolstered her frazzled emotions more than he
could possibly have realized. The idea of not having to sit around and wait
for it to be ‘time’ anymore was tantalizingly delicious. "If it’s not too
much trouble. . . that would be great. Wonderful, even."

Her Sire chuckled and tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Then it shall be
done in time for you to log in with the rest of your coworkers tomorrow
morning."

She gave him a tentative smile. "Not mad at me?"

Julian shook his head. "No. However, I must stress again that you are to
come to me when you need anything at all. Anything."

What she needed at that moment was a kiss from those perfectly shaped lips.
One of the ones where he grabbed her and pressed her to himself, hands on
her back and butt.

But that was out of the question. He was her Sire and she was still just
plain old Willow Rosenberg. Being Kindred didn’t change anything about who
she was – still just a computer geek, just a little more dead than before.

"I’ll remember that. Sorry to have worried you, really. I just wanted to get
some sense of normal back in my life. And being cooped up in my room wasn’t
doing it for me. The trips to The Haven are nice – but they’re anything but
normal."

That statement seemed to take her Sire aback, and she immediately regretted
it because of the look that passed through his eyes. She had given him one
more thing to worry about, it appeared.

"You know – you could be right. We’ve been keeping you too secluded from the
‘normal’ world. There’s a play showing tonight. I had intended to attend
with Sasha as a bonding type of thing, however it appears she is going to be
otherwise occupied with clan business. Would you care to join me?"

It sounded all too much like a date for Willow’s tastes, considering the
fact that Lillie may very well tear her eyes from her skull if she only
looked at Julian the wrong way.

But it was a chance to go out – into the world. To do something normal.

And she leapt at it without a second thought, wrapping her mind around it
until all thoughts of Lillie were far gone for the time being.

"I would *love* to."

~*~Part Seven: Just Another Date~*~

In planning what she would wear for the play that evening Willow discovered
something about herself that she had not noticed before -

She dressed like a teenager.

T-shirts, jeans. Sometimes peasant blouses and long skirts. These were the
same types of clothes that she had worn while in high school. She was sure
that she had some fancier clothes back at her apartment, she would just need
to get Julian to allow her to go retrieve some of them.

"And then, tomorrow, maybe I’ll go shopping for something other than. . .
t-shirts?" She held up one of the offending garments, her nose wrinkling in
distaste.

"That’s the Ventrue spirit," a voice laughed from her door. Willow turned,
smiling at the woman that had joined her.

"Ventrue spirit, Sasha? They have something against t-shirts? Did Julian
forget to tell me one of the great secrets of his clan?"

The auburn haired woman laughed, shaking her head so that her curls were
bouncing to and fro with wild abandon.

"Not t-shirts, just the casual style in general, y’know? Can you picture
Uncle Julian in a t-shirt?"

Willow pursed her lips, trying very hard to do just that. All she ended up
with was, not Julian in a t-shirt, but Julian in no shirt at all. She
blushed at averted her eyes, shaking her head slowly.

"No, I guess I can’t picture that now that you mention it."

"Huh." Sasha snickered. "What’s with the blushing. Surely thoughts of good
old Uncle Julian in a t-shirt weren’t enough to get you all hot and
bothered, were they?" Her eyes widened with playful shock. "They were!"

The red head blushed even further, until she was sure that her face was the
same color as her hair.

"He is a handsome man, Sasha," she replied evenly.

The other Kindred shrugged. "Don’t have to tell me twice. If he weren’t
family I’d do him."

Willow gasped, the corners of her mouth curling up in a shocked grin. The
few conversations she had been lucky to have with the wild-child of a Brujah
had taught her one thing – never be surprised at what comes out of her
mouth, because that’s usually exactly what Sasha wanted.

"And from the look on your face I’m thinkin’ that some Julian-lovin’ would
be a welcome addition to your life as well, hmm?"

The red head smirked, the blush finding its way down all the way to the tips
of her toes. "I refuse to answer that question."

"You don’t need to," the other woman laughed. "Now – what was the clothing
crisis of the hour?"

"Well. . . You know that play that you can’t go to with Julian tonight?"

Sasha nodded, "The boring thing that he wanted me to sit through with him?"

"It’s Chicago, Sasha! And it won’t be boring, I’m sure."


"Yeah, right. Because you’ll be sitting there, in a dark theater, next to a
man that makes you all shivery-blushing with happiness?"

Willow stuck her tongue out at Sasha before turning back to the clothing she
had laid out on the bed.

"The problem," she continued on, further refusing to comment on Sasha’s
suspicions that a night with Julian was something that would inspire great
warm tingly feelings in her. "Is that I don’t have anything here to wear.
All my good clothes are back in my apartment."

"So let’s go get ‘em. We can take my bike. It’ll be fun."

Fun for Sasha was also apparently synonymous with deadly. Willow hid a
cringe. What was stopping her now? A spill off the back of a bike wasn’t
going to kill her. She was as good as dead anyway. Without extreme injury
plus a mix of fire or sunlight, she wasn’t going to be going to heaven, or
hell, anytime soon.

"Sure. Think Julian will let us?" Willow shrugged, plastering a ‘might as
well live this life’ smile on her face.

"You just watch – I’ve got my uncle wrapped around my little finger."

~*~*~

Not even thirty minutes later they were in her apartment, sorting through
her clothes and packing another bag to bring back to the complex.

Well, Willow was packing, Sasha was being a curious visitor to the home,
examining the little bits of ‘self’ Willow had decorated the place with over
her time in San Francisco.

"Who’re these people?"

Willow turned, her face falling when she saw the picture Sasha had grabbed
from her coffee table. It showed herself, Xander and Buffy dressed in cap
and gowns and had been taken only an hour before they had set out to their
high school graduation, and auspicious event which had ended with the
complete destruction of Sunnydale High.

"My best friends from back home. . .Buffy and Xander."

"Buffy?" Sasha quirked an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. "You’re friends
with someone named Buffy?"

Willow snickered. "Yeah. She’s the Slayer – I assume you’ve heard of her."

"The. . . Slayer. . . ." Sasha sat the picture down, her eyes wide. "Wow,
Will. You got some friends in high places. She’s the boogeyman of our kind,
you know."

The red head laughed outright. "She’d be thrilled to know that, I’m sure.
Probably let it get to her head. I can just see her walking through the
cemetery on patrol, all puffed up because she’s what little vampires are
scared of."

Sasha chuckled, but it was weak.

"Don’t worry," Willow laid a hand on the other woman’s arm. "She’s in
Sunnydale, fighting the demonic vampires of the Hellmouth. . . at least, I
assume that’s where she is."

"You haven’t spoken to her recently?"

"Not since before. . ." The Ventrue trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards
herself in general.

"Before you were Embraced?" Sasha asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the
bed, she watched as Willow nodded, eyes sad, before turning back to the task
of packing her bag. "Are you going to tell them?"

Willow snorted. "Not much choice there. Buffy would be able to tell the
second she saw me again. That’s one of the Slayer’s abilities, you know,
they have a sixth sense about vampires." She paused in the middle of folding
one of her blouses. "I’m afraid, though. Buffy can be really. . . prejudiced
I think is the word. . . against anyone that’s not human. She dated a
vampire for a little while, but afterwards she never looked at them the same
again. And now there’s me, all nice and undead. I can only imagine what she’
s going to say in response to that."

"Oh well," Sasha shrugged. "Don’t worry about it. If they’re really your
friends they’ll still be there for you. And if they aren’t then they were
never worth havin’ in the first place."

"Good point." Willow nodded with a tight smile. She gestured at her bag. "I’
m done here, ready to go."

"Yeah. Sure you don’t want to take the picture to remind you to call them?"

Willow looked at the picture, debating the wise words spoken by her
companion. She felt the tears beginning in the depths of her heart and shook
her head, turning for the door.

"No, let it stay here."

~*~*~

Halfway through the play Sasha’s earlier words came back with a vengeance,
nearly unraveling the self-control Willow had fought so hard for. She could
smell Julian’s cologne, the scent of the shampoo that he had used earlier
that day. He was wearing a suit, per the usual, and look delicious in the
burgundy dress shirt that was beneath it.

She wasn’t sure what triggered the memory of that conversation, but she was
well aware when she began to blush because of it.

"Are you alright?" Julian whispered, concern tingeing his voice.

Willow nodded, licking her lips until she was able to speak without her tone
shaking. "I’m fine – really."

"Let me know if you need to leave."

She flashed him a smile, averting her eyes when his gaze lingered on her
longer than she was fully comfortable with. Couldn’t he see what his mere
presence did to her? The way it made her feel? He was handsome, for Goddess’
sake! Was he unaware of this fact?

When he reached behind her, laying his arm on the back of her chair, it was
almost enough to send her over the edge. His hand was resting on her bare
shoulder, fingertips brushing against her skin in gentle, mindless circles.
When she risked a glance out of the corner of her eye she was startled to
see that he was still looking at her, thoughtful.

Silly man.

Silly, silly man!

Couldn’t he just leave her be? It was hard enough to be out in public
without him doing things, most likely unintentionally, that made her wet and
willing. He was a beautiful specimen of male perfection and was probably
completely unaware of what he did to women when he sat this close to them,
when he touched them like that?

No, he couldn’t know.

Because, if he did, why would he be doing it to her?

~*~

"Thank you for a wonderful night," Willow murmured as the limo pulled up in
front of the complex. She could see someone waiting on the steps as the
vehicle came to a complete stop, and she shivered with nervous energy.

Lillie.

Dear Goddess, Lillie had not only found out about their excursion, but had
waited for them as well.

She steeled her face into an expression of pure happiness. There was no way
she would let the Toreador Primogen see what kind of effect her presence had
on her.

"You’re most welcome, Willow. We will do this again soon?"

It seemed like less of a question than a statement, and she nodded with a
smile. If he wanted to spend time like that with her again, who was she to
complain?

He leaned over as the limo driver opened the door, brushing a kiss against
her lips.

In plain site of Lillie.

Willow’s eyes widened with that knowledge, nearly taking away the entire
pleasure granted by that small kiss. She blushed, murmuring another thank
you before scooting out of the car. Patiently she waited for Julian to join
her, averting her eyes from Lillie.

"Go on in the house, Willow. I need to take care of something."

The red haired Venture hid a smirk. Her Prince and Sire was unhappy with
Lillie.

Good.

Let him be unhappy.

Let him be so unhappy that he put the conniving bitch in her place.

So it was with a smug smile that Willow walked past Lillie, eyes forward,
completely missing the look of fury on the other woman’s face.


~*~Part Eight: Someone He Deserves~*~

Willow could hardly wait to get to her room, to barricade herself in that
space and wait out whatever wrath Lillie was planning on raining down upon
her head for daring to go out with Julian and actually enjoy it.

And . . . to top it all off. . . .

He had kissed her!

She squealed, very girlishly, and fell back onto the bed, her eyes closed in
a moment of true bliss, replaying the moment over and over again in her
head. The feel of his lips on hers, that warm feeling that had invaded every
cell in her body. The completeness she had felt when they were touching. She
no longer questioned that she had developed a crush on him – it was evident
just from the way her body responded to him. The only thing that was in
question was whether or not he could return her feelings.

And it appeared, if tonight was any indication, that maybe he could. He had
certainly initiated the kiss without a second thought. And the look in his
eyes when he had saw Lillie there, waiting to have her say in things, well –
needless to say Willow was glad *she* wasn’t on the receiving end of his
anger. She squealed again, grabbing a pillow and clutching it to her chest.

"So, I take it things went well?"

The red head didn’t even bother to open her eyes to greet her visitor; the
sound of the other woman’s voice was enough to tell her who it was. And that
sassy sarcasm would have been a dead give away even without that much.

"Things went wonderfully, Sasha. It was – I can’t even begin to describe how
good of a time I had. I can’t thank you enough for being too busy to go
with him."

"Yeah – busy," Sasha laughed, and now Willow cracked an eye to look as the
other Kindred sat down on the bed with her. There was something in the other
woman’s eyes, a teasing sparkle that wasn’t normally there.

"You weren’t busy – were you?" Willow accused with a laugh.

"Caught me red handed." The Brujah was laughing outright now, a devious
smile on her lips. "I thought you and Uncle Julian could use some time
together, if you know what I mean."

"Time together? But. . . but. . ." Willow stammered with a shake of her
head, sitting up to glare reproachfully at the other woman. "Why would you
set me up on a date with him?"

"Because you’ll be good for him?" Sasha shrugged. "He deserves someone who
wants to be with him just because he’s Julian and not because he’s the
fucking Prince of the City. He gets lonely, too, you know."

The red head nodded, mutely. Sasha had set her up. On a date. With Julian
Luna. The Prince of the City. Her Primogen.

And it had been absolutely fantastic!

She threw herself at the other Kindred, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you."

"No prob, girl. Now – tell. What happened? You’re in your room and he’s
downstairs, so I guess my hopes of after theater sex were too much?"

Willow laughed as she blushed, letting Sasha guide her thoughts away from
the conversation that was undoubtedly going on downstairs right at that
moment.

Hopefully Lillie wouldn’t be able to say anything to sway Julian away from
her – because the idea of more smoochies in her future was definitely
something she wanted to see become a reality.

~*~*~

"You need not have waited up for me, Lillie. Willow and I were having a
private evening."

"I saw." The venom dripped from her words. "Julian. Don’t you think that you
’re . ."

The Prince turned, eyes distant. "I mean it. You hold no sway over me any
longer. We haven’t been together for –"

"Too long, Julian." The Toreador seductress murmured, taking a step towards
him. And then another when he didn’t immediately pull back. She laid a hand
on his chest, her fingernails playing with the buttons of his shirt. "It’s
been too long since we were last ‘together’, don’t you think?"

But Julian was still caught up in the kiss that he had just experienced with
his Childe, the woman that was now upstairs winding down after their date.
He stepped backwards from his former lover, eyeing her with something he
hoped looked like disdain.

"Lillie – do not interfere in my life if you wish to remain a part of it. If
this persists we will not even be friends."

The smoldering look in Lillie’s eyes should have been a warning to him that
she would not let this go. But he was tired and not looking for a fight, so
he let it slide. And when she quietly begged off for the night, leaving the
room without another word, he sighed in relief.

He started up the stairs, down the hall towards Willow’s room; wanting to
speak with her and make sure she was okay with what had happened between
them in the car. If she didn’t want that type of relationship with him he
would be fine with it, even if it would leave him feeling a little sad
inside. She had been nothing but a bright spot since that dreadful night
when he had been forced to save her life by Embracing her.

The Prince paused outside of Willow’s door, hand raised to knock. He
stopped, listening to the voices on the other side. His niece was apparently
visiting with his Childe. The friendship between the two women was
startling, as if clan prejudices had done nothing to turn how they had
bonded when they initially met. It gave him hope that, one day, he might be
able to salvage a little more of his own relationship with his saucy blood
relation.

". . . So – you liked it, right?"

"It was great." Willow was gushing. He could picture her, sitting on the
bed – or maybe pacing the room as she tended to do when excited. "His lips
were so soft, Sasha. Just that little kiss – and I want more."

Julian felt the corners of his mouth curl up in a soft smile. So she was
okay with what had happened. More than okay by the sound of things. He
stepped back from the door, continuing on to his own room to change into
something more comfortable. Perhaps by the time he was done Willow would be
done speaking with Sasha.

And he could pick up right where he had left off – tasting her sweet mouth,
eating her alive with his lips and tongue.

The room was quiet by the time he had finished, replacing his suit with a
carefully pressed black t-shirt and a pair of khaki-colored pants. He
knocked on her door, holding his breath as he waited for it to open –

And reveal Willow, dressed in a short, silk nightgown in dark blue. That
breath he had been holding came out as a gasp and he stepped forward before
he could even think further on it, taking her into his arms. When his lips
met hers he encountered no resistance, her mouth parting to deepen the kiss
that they were both clinging to.

"Would you like to come in?" She laughed lightly, blushing as she pulled
away to look into his eyes. The passions within her were nearly
overwhelming, and she chalked it up to yet another side effect of being
Embraced. If her anger and sadness could be that much the stronger, why not
her desires.

Julian’s answer was to plunder her mouth again with his tongue, pushing her
gently back into the room, his foot kicking the door closed behind him.

~*~Part Nine~*~

When morning came Willow was up and ready to work, despite the fact that she
had spent a good portion of her night –

She blushed, thinking back to the exact activities of the night before, the
ones that were causing all those delicious little aches and pains between
her legs, on her breasts. Did she have fingerprints there? No, a quick check
in the mirror showed no such markings though she certainly was sore. Julian
was all passion – with his touching, his kissing. There were things that
that man could do with his tongue that shouldn’t even be legal!

And he had done them to her – right there in that very bed. For most of the
night, even. The bed was evidence of the downright brutal lovemaking they
had engaged in. She was sure there were gouges in the wood where she had
clawed, seeking purchase to brace her body against thrusts that were meant
to cause that pain that bordered right on the edge of pleasure; the ones
that made her feel like she was being split apart even when she was
screaming for more.

"More. . . more. . . more. . ." She laughed to herself, mimicking her own
begging tone from the night before. And Julian had complied. He had given of
himself time and again, bringing her to pleasure before he sought his own,
making sure that she was enjoying their time together just as much as she
was.

Where had that come from? That passion that bordered on animalistic, primal
need? A desire so strong that it was capable of overriding her normally
passive nature, replacing it with a hell cat that could show her lust
without reservation.

‘We have emotions that humans could never understand, Willow. Desires. .
.hungers. . .’ Julian had murmured to her, as he kissed his way up her leg,
over the creamy skin of her calf, to her thighs. He had placed gentle,
teasing kisses on her inner thighs, his tongue darting out to lick at the
light sheen of sweat that had come up during their initial time rolling
around, tearing clothes from each other. He had kissed her so sweetly, with
all of the care a master artisan gave to their masterpiece. . finally
dipping his head to lick –

"Bad Willow! Work now – play later!"

True to his word, Julian had arranged for a computer to be set up and linked
back to her office so that she could begin to resume her normal life. She
knew she wasn’t ready to be back in the office for good yet. Those few hours
at the theater last night, around all those tasty snack-like people,
smelling so good and yummy – that had been a true test of her patience and
it had nearly sent her over the edge. But she had held on, toughed it out,
and everything had turned out fine.

She just wasn’t ready for an eight-hour day yet.

Logging in, Willow was unsurprised to find that her direct supervisor had
already heard of her new working from home status and had already flooded
her inbox with requests for software upgrades and enhancements. She looked
through them, setting aside the ones that needed to be done right away and
labeling the others in the order of importance on a spreadsheet she would
keep open during the day to track her progress.

She glanced through the rest of her emails, her mouse pointer hovering over
one from an all-too-familiar address.

Buffy.

Willow sighed, biting her lip with worry. She had done her best to avoid her
friends, very discreetly of course, since the night of her Embrace. What
would they say when they found out? How would they react? She was sure they’
d be able to know something was different from the moment they talked to
her, even though there was no way to really know – not over a phone, anyway.
Buffy would know something was different the second they were in a room
together again. Even Xander, as completely insensitive as he was when it
came to the supernatural, would know she had changed, even if he wasn’t sure
*how*.

And what then?

Would they cast her aside? Call her a monster? Detest her for wanting to
live instead of dying? Or would they say everything was okay and then pull
slowly away from her, taking a little piece of her soul with them with every
passing day? The only vampire Buffy had ever remotely been tolerant of was
Angel – and then Spike, in turn. But they were different, of course. She had
cared for both of them. Yes, even Spike – in her own weird way.

‘And she cares about you, too.’ Willow told herself, making up her mind with
a leap of faith that would have left her nerveless had she thought it out
completely. She clicked on the email, opening it, and began to read.

~Hey Wills!

How are things up north? Xander wanted me to ask that, by the way. I told
him you were just a few hours away. Not really north, though technically, I
guess, you are somewhere north of Sunnydale. But, you know, when he says
‘north’ I get visions of Canada. And you’re definitely not in Canada.

Unless you’ve moved.

You haven’t moved, have you? I mean, you would tell us, right? It’s just . .
.

We haven’t heard from you in a few weeks and, to tell you the truth, we’re
getting worried. We miss you, Wills. Xander, especially. I think he goes
through some type of weird withdrawal thing the longer he is away from you.

So – to the point. . . I know I asked this a couple months ago and you were
busy with work, getting that big project done – but this is me asking now. .
.

Can we come visit?

Please?

We promise to be good.

Please?

Love,
Buffy and Xander~

Willow swallowed, pushing down that discomforting lump in her throat. Why
had she put Buffy off two months ago when the blonde had called, wanting to
come visit? Having a lot of work seemed silly now that Buffy seemed intent
on cashing in on their friendship to get to come visit. And at such a bad
time.

She leaned her head down on the desk, banging it lightly against the heavy
wood.

"That can’t be good for you – or the desk."

For the first time Willow felt something within herself that she didn’t want
to feel in regards to the woman standing in the doorway of the office.

Disgust.

She closed her eyes, continuing to jolt her head against the desk.

"Not a good time, Sasha."

"I can see that. The desk looks like it might be winning, by the way."

Willow frowned, looking up at the one friend she could honestly say she had
made since moving to this god-forsaken city. She had promised herself she
wouldn’t let these stupid prejudices influence her, but that was before they
had begun to show their ugly head. Now that she could feel them, racing
through her veins, it was a little more difficult. Sasha was Brujah, scum of
the earth – and she was a Ventrue and Childe of the Prince.

And that was just –so- wrong!

"I hate this!" Willow cried, standing up and pacing the length of the room.

"It’s happening, huh?"

"I won’t let it!" The red head whispered, furious. "This is my body. My
mind. My emotions. I won’t let the blood in my veins make decisions for me!"

"Yet you woke up this morning and put on a suit. . . for staying home."

Willow looked down at the clothing she had tossed on without even thinking,
her eyes widening with horror. She –had- put on a suit. A cute little
dark-blue pants suit that she thought made her look at least an inch taller.
She was the epitome of professional.

And she wasn’t even planning to leave the house.

For that matter, even if she had been going to the actual office, she wouldn
’t have worn a *suit* unless she was having an important meeting.

She groaned, collapsing back into her chair.

"It’s gonna be hard, you know." Sasha sighed, kneeling down in front of
Willow. "But I’m still willing to try if you are. I have to believe that we
can do it, you know. Because – if we can. . . maybe Cash will come around
one day, too."

Willow nodded, smiling gently into her friend’s face. "I know. Just give me
some time, k? I need to beat my body back into submission."

"Kinky." Sasha laughed, standing back up, hands in the pockets of her
leather jacket. "Gonna get Uncle Julian to help you with that?"

"Hey!" Willow blushed furiously, giving her friend a warning glare. "There
will be no talk of your Uncle and I doing. . . things."

"Sure." The other woman smirked. "Well, since you’re not going to open up
about the ‘things’ my Uncle did to you. . .and vice versa. . . I’ll have to
go find someone else to pester."

"Troublemaker." The red head called after her retreating form. The banter
had, at least, taken her mind off of her own problems for a few moments. But
that meant that she still had them to deal with, in all of the Slayer-esque
glory.

What in the Hell was she going to do about this?

Tell them the truth?

Well of course.

But – how?

"Still working on that." She sighed, closing the email and placing it in a
folder to answer ‘later’.

Later – when she had worked out exactly how she was going to tell her
friends.

After she had braced herself for the possibility that she may lose them once
and for all.

~*~Part Ten~*~

"Have you decided how to tell them yet?"

Willow opened one eye to look at her Sire and lover, Julian Luna. He was laying on his side, looking down at her. She had thought he was working on something, some bit of paperwork that he had brought to bed to finish before they turned off the lights and got down to the real entertainment for the evening. Apparently he had finished during the time she had closed her eyes and began to meditate on the problem she was facing, for he was now quite bare from the chest up, and there were no papers in sight. She sighed and shook her head.

"No. But they need to be told. We’re in agreement on that? If it were anyone else I wouldn’t worry so much. But Buffy will be able to tell the second I get in a room with her and I’d rather not be on the sharp end of a stake if it’s all the same to you. Of course. . . wait. . .does this count as breaking the Masquerade? Because if it does I don’t know what in the Goddess’ name I’m going to do. I mean. . ."

"Shhh." He silenced her with a finger to the lips. He replaced that with his mouth, kissing her deeply before pulling away to look into her flushed face. "Calm down. Your heart is racing."

She took a deep breath, willing her heart to slow, for calmness to prevail over her rampaging emotions. His touch was like ice on the fires of her soul, soothing her. And, slowly, she got it together.

"Now, for your questions," he smiled gently, running a hand down her face, over her neck and then to her bare shoulders. "You will not be breaking the Masquerade. When it comes to the Slayer we’ve been forced to make some allowances. Her, her friends, and her Watcher – they all are free to know about the Masquerade."

"And you don’t worry that they will, you know, tell?" Willow questioned quietly, her eyes searching his face for the answers she needed.

"Why would they?" He shrugged with a gentle quirk of his lips, a half-smile, half-smirk that never ceased to make her stomach do flip-flops of lusty desire. "You’re one of her friends, are you not? And it isn’t as if you go running to tell everyone what you know."

"True." She smiled in understanding, arching up into his gentle caresses. It was odd, this feeling of helplessness that she had over her own emotions. One second she was grasping at straws, sick with worry, and the next her body was on fire for this gorgeous specimen of a man.

"Exactly." Julian nodded, shifting so that he was over top of her, gazing down into her wide green eyes. "You’ve kept this secret for years and years already. As have your friends. Why would I worry? To tell our secret would be to give away yours, and the Slayer’s, as well. I don’t think anyone wants that."

Well, with logic like that she couldn’t really think of any argument. It wasn’t helping matters any that he was straddling her, kissing his way down her throat, over her naked chest. . .across her stomach.

She gave in to his touches, those silent demands on her body that he was so skilled at bringing out; and abandoned the thoughts of Buffy and Xander for later.

Much later, if Julian’s slow, teasing pace was to be taken into account.

~*~*~

The next morning brought her no closer to deciding what to do about her friends than she had come the night before, discussing it with Julian. They needed to know, she needed to tell them – that was the situation in simple terms. In not so simple terms she had to tell her friends, one of whom was a vampire slayer, that she was, in effect, a vampire. It was one of the worst scenarios she could have ever pictured happening in her own, normally less than thrilling, life.

But here she was, sitting at her computer, working on the latest program that was due, trying hard not to think of Buffy and Xander and the visit they wanted to make to see her.

"If only Giles would find a prophecy or something to keep them busy." She muttered, fingers clattering away at the keys.

Wait.

"Giles!" She nearly jumped out of her chair, a plan formulating in the space of a few moments. He was like their father, their guardian. Since day one whatever he said usually was law, even if they didn’t like it. He was the voice of reason amidst a sea in turmoil. If anyone would understand what had happened to her and try to help her figure out a way to tell Buffy and Xander, it was him.

Now.

How to tell Giles?

~*~*~

The phone was ringing when Giles stepped in the door of his townhouse, grocery bags in hand. He set them down by the door and grabbed the cordless from the charger, wedging it between his head and shoulder as he attempted to move the groceries from the doorway to the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Giles? It’s Willow."

"Willow!" He smiled into the phone. "It’s good to hear from you. Buffy and Xander have been being quite worrisome about not getting a response back from their last e-mail."

He heard her sigh into the phone and knew, through that instinct he had picked up from years of being Buffy’s Watcher and surrogate father, that something was wrong.

"What’s happened?"

"Oh, Giles," she began quietly. "I don’t even know how to tell you everything that’s happened."

He paused, leaning against his kitchen counter, groceries momentarily forgotten. "Why don’t you start at the beginning?"

"Yeah. . . the beginning." She sighed again, but there was a sniffle afterwards. She was crying, and it broke Giles’ heart. She was the closest thing he would ever find to a daughter in both heart and spirit, aside from Buffy. "Giles – have you ever heard of the Kindred?"

Rupert Giles, scholar of the supernatural, nearly dropped the phone in shock. He licked his lips, fidgeting nervously with the edge of the counter, a groove cut into it at some point with a knife. If she was asking about the Kindred, if she knew about them – he could only guess where this conversation was going.

"Yes. I am aware of who and what they are, if that is what you’re asking."

He didn’t need to see her to know that she was nodding, or to guess that she was lying down as she talked, her eyes shut and tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What about the Kindred, Willow? Are you in some type of danger?" He broached the subject with all the delicacy he could manage. Normally there was no reason to fear for any mortal’s life around the Kindred – they were somewhat of a fringe group of supernatural society, preferring to live amongst humans and coexist with them rather than attempting any type of destruction.

"No danger," she hurried to reassure him in a sigh of air that sounded like it had been held for many moments. "Giles – don’t hang up on me. . .please?"

So it was what he feared. She didn’t need to say anything else, he knew by the heartbroken sound of her voice.

"I won’t hang up on you, child. How did it happen?"

And she didn’t question how he knew. Not for one moment. She simply started in on her tale, taking time every so often to just cry for her lost humanity. When she was finished, and there was silence at last, he murmured. "And are you alright?"

"You don’t hate me?"

It was sad, he reasoned, that she had gotten so worked up in her own mind that she not only thought he would cast her aside because of this, but expected it of him.

"How could I hate you? I will admit that I am not pleased that you were forced into this situation. However that is neither here nor there and there is nothing that can be done about it now."

"So – how do I tell Buffy and Xander?" She asked quietly. "I don’t want to lose them, Giles. They’re my friends."

"And, as your friends, you really should give them more credit than this. However, I will tell them if you like. Perhaps they will take it better coming from me than from you."

"I think I would like that. If you don’t mind. . . "

Giles closed his eyes and removed his glasses, lying the on the counter as he rubbed tiredly at the tired orbs. "I don’t mind at all. In fact, this would be best. I will let you know when I have spoken to them, okay?"

"Yeah. Great. Just call my cell."

"Do not worry yourself with this, Willow. They will still be your friends in the end."

"I hope so." She whispered, sounding so very small and insecure, something he thought she had grown out of so long ago.

"I know so," he told her firmly. "Now go on with whatever it is you do at this time of day and let me handle this."

She murmured a goodbye which he hardly heard, echoing it automatically before hanging up the phone. Only then did he realize that he hadn’t the slightest clue how to tell Buffy that one of her best friends was now a vampire.

~*~Moonlit Paths Part 11~*~

The call from Giles came in the middle of the night, and Willow’s cell phone stored it away in voicemail, left it waiting for the morning to come. It was on silent, vibrate, and she didn’t even wake up when it rang, didn’t notice when the call went to her voicemail. That oh-so important call. She stumbled from her bed the next morning, the need to feed sated for the moment from the pleasure romp she had shared with Julian the night before. She washed and dressed for a day of working from her ‘home office’.

Only then did she notice the little icon on her cell phone. She had a voicemail.

There were only a few people that had her cell phone number – and only one of whom she was expecting a call from. She picked up the phone with trembling hands and weak knees, dialing into her voicemail. And she listened, heart thudding in her chest.

Giles had told them.

He had told Buffy and Xander about her. About what had happened to her.

She shivered, dropping to the chair at her desk with a small moan of despair. Knowing it was inevitable was one thing, but being faced with the reality of them being aware of what had happened to her was something else entirely. Her entire body felt stiff, rigid with emotions that tasted disgustingly like fear and apprehension.

"Call them." Giles ordered at the end of his message, wishing her luck before disconnecting. She sat there for the longest time, just staring at the little piece of plastic and metal in her hand, wishing that she could just put this entire mess behind her and get on with her ’normal’ life again.

"I can do this." She whispered fiercely to the empty room. "I can do this. Right. Me. Willow. I can –"

She stopped. Her cell phone was ringing. And the call was coming from Buffy’s house. The pep talk she had been forcing upon herself only moments before was proven useless when the time came to actually do what needed to be done, however, and she felt her courage evaporate like water on a hot grill.

"Hello?" She choked out.

"Hey."

"Xan." Willow smiled, tears forming in the corner of her eyes already, and he had barely spoken a word. "How –"

"So – I was sitting here, still trying to process what the g-man told us last night. And it occurred to me that he would have told you that we know. But you hadn’t called yet . . . and, aside from being a creature of the night now, I still think you’re probably an early riser and were probably just sitting there, trying to work up the courage to call –"

"So you made it easy on me and called instead?" She laughed softly. Xander’s babbling was getting almost on par with her own, a talent he only manifested when he was nervous. Like now.

"Well, yeah." She could almost hear him smirking across the distance that was separating them. "It also occurred to me that you’re probably really bent up over this whole telling us thing. And I wanted you to know that I’m still your friend. Through thick and thin, Wills. We’ve been best buds forever – do you really think this would change it?"

"Sort of." The red head admitted quietly. "I mean – you hated Angel and Spike. Even though they were both good guys. Why wouldn’t you hate me?"

"There is that – I’ll admit. Let me also say that I’m the first to jump on the hypocrisy bandwagon when it suits me. Angel and Spike are different – they weren’t my friends to begin with. Angel I hated and Spike – well I hated Fangless even more that I hated his illustrious Grandsire. You are my friend, Wills. My bestest bud. Even if you all member of the undead-like now."

Willow laughed, genuinely; warmth spreading into her heart. Xander was, at least, still her friend. He still wanted to talk to her and didn’t seem like he was going to judge her as harshly as he had judged other ‘monsters’ in the past. "How’s Buffy taking it?"

Xander drew in a breath so quick and deep that Willow heard it echo through the phone line.

"She’s not taking it as well, Wills. That whole sacred duty thing and now she finds out that there are different types of vamps and that, surprise, you’re one of them. She’s in the kitchen, waiting for me to finish."

"AH." Well, that was that, then. Buffy didn’t want to talk to her. Not then, maybe not ever.

"She’s going to come out when I’m done. She wanted to give us this time alone."

Okay, so she had been wrong on the not wanting to talk to her thing, apparently.

"You’ll come visit soon, right, Xan?"

"Of course. Maybe you can find me a hottie to hook up with while I’m there?"

Willow flashed to Sasha immediately, a smile curling up the corners of her mouth. "I think I may know someone."

"Well, in that case, let me get Buff. Try not to take anything she says too hard, k?"

With that the phone went silent, and Willow could hear movement in the house. A door opening and closing, Xander murmuring something. There was some more movement, getting closer, and then.

"Willow?"

"Buff – hey."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, taking up minutes of time with its nothingness. Neither girl knew what to say to the other one, both had been through so much since they had last spoken. Willow found herself mentally reviewing every possible thing she could or should say, trying to come up with the perfect opener.

But Buffy beat her to it.

"So – Giles said –"

"Yeah." Willow whispered.

"Well."

The silence came back, stiflingly oppressive. Willow wished that Xander had wanted to talk a little longer, just for the sake of having his happiness to bolster her confidence that her entire friendship with Buffy wasn’t going to go up in flames before her eyes. Buffy had no problem being a hypocrit. She had dated Angel and had a fling with Spike, but that didn’t mean she could accept one of her best friends as –

"A vampire, Wills?"

"Kindred." Willow corrected absently. "Giles told you the difference?"

"Yeah. Hard to believe there’s different kinds. I mean, why wouldn’t he have told me this sooner? What if I had accidentally staked a ‘good guy’ as opposed to a demon spawn? How would I have felt then?"

"You would have managed, Buff." Willow reassured her, pitching her own voice low and soothing to counter the thinly veiled hysteria threatening to break through from Buffy.

"You think?" The Slayer asked. She sounded so much like a lost child that Willow wished she were there to hold her and offer comfort. Xander was still there, though; and he could give her the support she needed. Hopefully. There had been plenty of times in the past when Buffy had been beyond their help no matter how hard they tried; and it was in times like that when she became the most dangerous to herself, taking stupid risks. Giles would look out for her, keep her grounded, Willow had to believe that.

"Wow. .." Buffy sighed. "I don’t know what else to say right now, Wills. I think I’m still trying to . . . get used to it all. I mean – you sort of died, though not in the permanent kind of way."

"I understand." Willow murmured, truthfully. "Call me when you want to talk again. We’ll make plans for you to visit. I miss you guys."

"Talk to you later, Wills."

The red head nearly dropped the phone when the dial tone rang in her ear. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the cold that had seeped into her body. Buffy hadn’t said she missed her. Hadn’t even said when she thought she’d call back again.

And Willow could only take that to mean that she might not.

She sniffled, biting her lip as if pain could keep the tears from falling. All she got for her efforts was a split lip and cheeks stained pink with her own, bloody tears.

"Willow? What’s wrong?"

Julian’s strong arms were around her before she could say anything. Their bond was such that she could feel his calmness radiating over her, soothing the nerves that were on fire with the need to be held and comforted. She leaned into them, crying harder now that he was there to lend his support.

"Buffy –"

"Isn’t taking it well?" He finished for her, when her sobs became too much to speak. She nodded, mutely; gasping in breath after breath of air to fill lungs she was just as quickly emptying with her pitiful cries. "Give her time. This is as new to her as it is to you, even more so since she just found out."

Willow nodded, turning to kiss him; to seek out comfort through his touch. There was blood on her lip from her teeth biting into it earlier, and he licked and kissed it off, a deep rumbling growl in his chest that had nothing to do with the humanity she still so valiantly clung to. He picked her up, moving her back to her bed.

And, for the moment, she forgot about her heartache.

~*~Part Twelve~*~

The first sign that something is going to go devastatingly wrong is when
everything starts going right. Like the lull before the storm, good fortune
is merely the herald of pain and suffering. At least, that was what Willow
had found to be true for most of her life. The second life starts giving you
‘good luck’ you should start making plans for what happens when that same
luck takes a turn for the worst.

So she should have seen it coming.

She shouldn’t have been so blindsided when her world crumbled beneath her
feet.

Her day had been going great. Wonderful, even. Buffy had called back, as she
had promised, and they had talked for nearly an hour, working through the
questions and concerns the Slayer had over her friend that was now Kindred.
Then the red head had been able to speak to Xander, and they had talked for
another hour. It had been heavenly to just talk to them, unload the weight
of her soul on them and know they would, if not understand, not judge her
too harshly. She told Xander how much she wished that things were
different – that this had never happened. She didn’t want this, she
explained – but she didn’t want to die either.

And he had understood.

In fact, he even told her she was glad that she had found someone special in
Julian Luna – someone to watch out for her and protect her from the things
that went bump in the night that were scarier than her.

That had made her laugh and had prompted her to remind him that she wasn’t
scared of much after having lived through Spike and Angelus. This, of
course, had sparked off nearly twenty minutes of reminiscing about the
different big bads they had faced during their time as the ‘Scoobies’. The
Mayor, Faith, Egyptian mummy demons – all of that seemed so far in the past
now, like fond memories they could look back on and laugh about.

That morning she had finished up the last of the work that had piled up
during her leave of absence, as well. She finally felt like she was back on
track and had begun to seriously contemplate when she would be able to
return to the office she missed so much and to the coworkers she had
tentatively begun to call her friends before this entire thing happened.

But all of that was *good* news and *good* luck. Good fortune, if you will.
Riding high on that feeling of elation that such goodness brings, the former
Scoobie never once thought about the consequences of all those good things
happening. Not once did she worry that fate was about to come knock her on
her ass for daring to enjoy her life; for taking advantage of the sunshine
instead of the rain.

So what happened that night, after a day of speaking with her friends and
working diligently – only an hour before she expected Julian home to give
her some of the smoochies she desired so much, hit her by surprise.

~*~*~

"You make him weak."

Willow stiffened, glass in her hand. She forced herself to take a deep
breath, eyes gazing into the fire, before turning to face the owner of the
voice. Lily was there, just inside the doorway, glaring at her with
hate-filled eyes. Her hair was perfect as always, whimsical black and red
dress flowing gracefully around a perfect body. It was almost enough to make
Willow feel insecure. This was Julian’s former lover, after all; a woman
that still seemed bound and determined to cause Willow nothing but grief.

"Excuse me?" She managed an unconcerned smirk.

"You heard me." Lily hissed, maintaining distance from the red head. "You
make Julian weak."

"Why do you think that?"

Lily snorted. "I don’t think that, little girl. I *know* it. You’re too
soft, too delicate. Julian needs someone by his side that’s strong, cold."

"Like you, Oh Great Ice Princess?" She applauded herself silently for her
snappy retort, while at the same time wondering at the intelligence of
baiting the woman that stood before her. Lily was a Toreador, and from what
she had learned in whispered conversations with Sasha, that clan was not
known for their emotional stability. Artists, all of them, they let their
emotions overtake them, living often for the moment, taking risks. She had
called Lily an Ice Princess, but that doesn’t mean that the other woman
was – in fact Willow had a sinking suspicion that she was, in fact, filled
with more rage than was healthy.

"Yes, like me." The auburn haired woman smirked. She stepped into the room
further, appraising Willow with dark, hooded eyes. "You’re not woman enough
for him, Willow. One day he’ll leave you . . . it’s only a matter of time.
That’s if –"

Willow raised an eyebrow, silently inviting Lily to continue with whatever
she had been about to say.

"I was just going to say," Lily purred. There were only a few short feet
between them now, and Willow wanted nothing more than to lean over and smack
that self-satisfied smirk off of the other Kindred’s face. "That he’ll leave
you if he lives long enough to get tired of you. If you don’t make him so
weak that he is killed by a rival Prince, or someone eager to get ahead.
That’s the way our world works – only the strong survive."

That wasn’t how Julian had described their world. He had never once made
their existence seem like some grand Darwinian design of strong killing
weak.

But . . .

"You don’t have to believe me," Lily shrugged, turning her back on Willow.
She crossed the room to the doorway. "But remember my words when this all
comes tumbling down around your head. You’ll have the blood of our Prince on
your hands. You can’t be what he needs."

There was nothing Willow could think of to say in that brief span of time
between Lily’s parting shot and when the other woman left the room. She
stood by the fire, chilled despite the warmth, glass held in limp fingers.

Could she be right?

Was it possible that. . . ?

She set the glass on a table and left the room, walking up the stairs and to
her own room in a daze of emotions so painful she felt like curling in on
herself and retreating for all of time. It all made sense, the more she
thought about it. Lily was right. Julian needed someone strong – someone
like him. A Kindred lover that could be just as ruthless as he had to be on
a daily basis.

And that wasn’t her.

Blood tears flowed freely down over her porcelain cheeks as she collapsed on
her bed. She pulled a pillow to her chest, clutching it for dear life as she
struggled valiantly to put her emotions in order. She would not abandon
herself to recklessness – not even if her heart felt as if it were breaking.
There was only one real solution to all of this – she had to break things
off with Julian before it was too late. Before either of them got in any
further. Before –

Before she fell in love? Because, the way her heart was shattering, it
seemed like it was a little too late.

Still . . .

Throwing the pillow to the side, Willow scrambled off of the bed. Her
suitcase was in the closet, right where she had left it after unpacking.

If she moved quickly enough she could pack and be gone before Julian ever
got home.

~*~Part Thirteen~*~

Sasha could hear the sobbing cries from the hallway, the moment she left the sanctuary of her room. She paused, hand on the wall, head tilted to the side; just listening for a moment before rushing off to see what was going on. There was no mistake to it - the noise was coming from Willow's room.

She walked slowly, then; unsure if the other woman would want her intrusion into whatever was causing her so much pain. They walked a thin line lately - one that was bordered on either side by clan rivalry and bad blood. Wanting to stay friends wasn't always enough, as she had learned all too well with Cash. There were some things in this world that were too powerful to be denied - and love and friendship weren't even on the list.

The door was open when she stopped outside of Willow's room, and she could see the red head moving back and forth from closet to the suitcase lying on the bed, clothes in her arms. She was crying, moving slowly; almost as if she were in a daze of pain that she couldn't break free from.

"Hey." She called out, the sight of the suitcase spurring her into quicker action than she had originally planned on. "Going somewhere?"

Willow turned, midstep, and met Sasha's eyes. There were bloody streaks of red marring her pale white cheeks, evidence of the pain in her heart.

"I'm leaving."

"Well, that's about as obvious as it could be." Sasha nodded. "But the question is - why?"

The red head sighed, shaking her head. "Just something someone pointed out to me. The truth, really. Something I should have seen for myself."

Sasha froze, mouth half-open. That was not what she had expected to hear from the other woman. A million possibilities went through her curl-bedecked head at that point, the first of which was that Julian had said something stupid and screwed up the first real chance he had been given at happiness in a long time. But that wasn't possible. He was out on the town, conducting business. He'd be in meetings until almost dawn, without even a chance for a phone call.

Which meant that it could be just about anyone else that had said something - and there was no telling what had been said. She sat down on the edge of the girl's bed, slamming the suitcase shut so that she couldn't continue with the packing.

"Who said something to you? And what was it?"

Willow shook her head again. "It doesn't matter, Sasha."

"I think it does. And I'm sure Julian will think it does when he sees you've left. I know he doesn't want you to leave. . ."

"Yeah, well. He doesn't get a choice in this." Willow's voice was filled with bitter disappointment.

"Why not? Aren't you and he. . . you know. . making like the rabbits on a regular basis?"

"Sasha!" The red head blushed, a startling contrast on her normally white skin, and beneath the veil of the bloody tear streaks.

"Well, aren't you?"

"You know that's not really your business." The other woman spluttered, smiling despite herself.

"He's my Uncle. He is my business. You leaving is going to hurt him."

Willow sighed and sat down next to her friend. "It'll be better like this. Someone told me it would. Besides, I have friends coming into town soon and they're going to be staying with me. I need to be moved back in by then - might as well start now, you know?"

"No, I don't know. Julian would let them stay here."

"They're mortal."

"Uh huh."

"And one of them is named Buffy."

"So? Do we suddenly discriminate against people whose parents named them strangely? I mean - Cash, Daedelus - hell - Julian isn't even a common name, you know."

Willow laughed. "I thought you'd recognize her name. She's the boogeyman of the Kindred world, you know."

"You've lost me," Sasha shrugged, happy to see that at least for the moment Willow had stopped crying. "Who is she?"

"The Slayer."

From the look on the red head's face, Sasha could tell that the name was supposed to mean anything. She sighed and chalked her lack of knowledge up to the fact that her Primogen wasn't much on the teaching side of things.

"And what is a Slayer?"

"Not -a- Slayer, Sash. *The* Slayer. One girl in all the world chosen to eliminate the forces of darkness - most often in the form of vampires. She's a preordained goddess sent warrior."

"She slays. . . vampires. . . like Kindred?"

"Well, she didn't even know about Kindred until the other day when I told her - so I think that's a big 'no'. But I'm sure her predecessors have. Mostly she makes with the hunting of the demonic vampires that roam the Hellmouth."

"Hellmouth?" Sasha held a hand to her forehead, wincing. "Too many new words and ideas, Will. Enough with the thinking for now. You can tell me about this later. For now - I say we party."

"Party?" Willow glanced towards her suitcase, fidgeting nervously. It was very un-Ventrue-like.

"Yeah - party. And then we'll see if you still feel like splitting. I won't stop you if you try, you know. But its gonna break Uncle Julian's poor little heart."

With that kind of guilt trip weighing her down, Sasha knew that it would only take a minute before Willow would -

"Sure. What harm can it do? But I won't change my mind, Sasha."

"Sure," The Brujah grinned. "Get all clubbed-up, or as much as you Ventrue know how, and meet me downstairs in ten?"

She didn't wait for an answer, knowing the other woman would get cleaned up and ready, probably all in less than five minutes, and be downstairs waiting.

Tonight they would have fun.

Tomorrow they would deal with whatever had happened.

~*~

Willow felt wild and free, zooming along, holding onto Sasha on the back of her motorcycle. They had already been to the Haven, where mercifully they had not run into Lillie. Now they were just cruising the streets 'looking for a good time' according to Sasha, though Willow secretly felt that they were more likely to find trouble.

"I think all the 'fun' has gone home for the night." She called out against the rush of the wind, the roar of the bike.

"Yeah, I guess so." The disappointment was obvious in Sasha's tone - but what were they to do? Not many gatherings to be found at two in the morning on Thursday nights. Come tomorrow it would be easy enough to find entertainment - tonight was another story. "Stop at the park?"

Willow nodded her ascent, calling out her agreement when she remembered the other woman couldn't hear her.

They pulled into the park, Sasha cutting the bike's engine. The night seemed so much more quiet without the machine on, and Willow breathed deeply of that wonderful scent that was dew and fresh grass.

"Ready to tell me yet what happened?"

The red head winced, throwing Sasha a glare. "You really know how to spoil a good night."

Sasha shrugged. "Yeah, well. Better now than never. Julian's gonna wanna know."

Willow sighed and bit her lip, plopping to the grass. Her skirt, a little number that was far too short to be proper, rode up just a bit and she tugged at it, trying to gather the courage to answer.

"Can I guess?"

"If you think you can."

The curly haired woman took the challenge, throwing herself down on the grass next to her friend. "Was it Daedalus?"

"Nope."

"Cash?"

"Uh uh."

"One of Julian's bodyguards?"

"Wrong again."

Sasha frowned.

"Cameron?"

Willow snorted, giving her friend 'a look'. "As if I'd let him anywhere close enough to say anything to me."

"He is sorta scummy, isn't he?"

"Definitely."

"Well. . . Sonny?"

"As if. Sonny's like a brother to me."

Now Sasha was getting confused. "Well it couldn't have been Lillie. . . Julian explicitly told her to stay away --- " She paused, the look on Willow's face making everything so clear. "Oh shit. It was Lillie?"

Willow nodded, turning her head. "She said that I made Julian weak. That I was pretty much weak and being with me made him weak."

"Let me guess," Sasha cut in, voice dripping with venom. "She thinks Julian needs someone a little colder, a little harder?"

"Right."

"Well if that description doesn't just fit her to a tee." The Brujah exhaled sharply.

"Yeah, well. She makes a good point."

"No, she doesn't," Sasha growled with a shake of her head. "Caring for you makes Julian stronger. Just like caring for me does. He needs his family around him. I didn't think he'd ever recover after Archon died. He was still there, but not really. Like a shell of my Uncle. But then he had you to take care of - and that made things a little better." She smiled, a wicked flash of teeth. "And then the two of you started with the wild and crazy every night, and things got even better for him. He cares about you. I dunno if its love, Will. But he does care. And that shouldn't be thrown away because of Lillie's jealousy."

When Willow did nothing more than shrug Sasha knew she wasn't getting through to her. She sighed, letting the subject go for that moment. There was nothing further -she- could say to make Willow see reason.

But there was a lot that Julian would be able to say.

~*~Part Fourteen~*~

Julian placed his glass of wine-blood on the end table next to his
chair, standing when he heard the bike pull up outside. He took a deep,
unneeded breath, and tried to remind himself that Sasha and Willow were
allowed to go off if they wanted to - even if they didn't offer him the
courtesy of leaving even a single note saying where they would be going
or when they would be home. To make matters worse, Willow had left her
cell phone in the downstairs hall - so he had been unable to contact
them during their foray into the city.

He heard the front door open and shut and then one set of footsteps
disappear up the stairs, the other coming closer and closer until -

"Uncle Julian?"

"So the two of you have decided to return home before sunrise, I see."

He could almost hear Sasha bristle at his words. He was angry, though.
Angrier than he should have been. Willow was an adult. So was Sasha. And
while he did not trust his niece to stay out of trouble, he did trust
his lover to make sure they didn't get in over their heads. It was only
that they hadn't bothered to even let him know where they would be that
was currently rankling on his nerves.

"She needed some time out. Time to clear her mind." Her voice was
steady, if not a little colder, harder, than it normally would be.

Julian turned to look at Sasha, forehead creasing with confusion. "Clear
her mind from what?"

Sasha's eyes met his and he had the feeling that he wasn't going to like
what she had to say.

"Earlier tonight - before we went out, Lillie had a little talk with
Willow."

He stiffened, already disliking what was being said.

"I told her -"

"Yeah, I know," Sasha cut him off with a wave of her hand. "But that
didn't stop her. She apparently said some things to Willow along the
lines of you being with her is making you weak and that if you stay with
Willow it'll just end up getting you killed."

"That is a lie!" Julian snarled, hands clenching into fists. He didn't
need to look in a mirror to know that his eyes were completely silver at
that moment. Fury was a human emotion, and one he had tried to rid
himself of for a very long time; it took him over and controlled him
more than he would have liked. Especially in situations like these.

"I know that!" Sasha cried, throwing her hands up. "But *Willow* didn't
know that. I found her crying her eyes out, packing to leave."

"She was. . . .going to leave?"

Sasha nodded. "Yep. Still might unless someone, meaning you, does some
serious convincing to make her want to hang around. She's the insecure
type, you know. Lillie's words hurt. So, I took her out, let her have
some fun - convinced her to stay for tonight."

"I'll speak with her." Julian sighed. "First, though, I need to deal
with Lillie."

Sasha shook her head. "Big wrong, there. First thing is to make sure
Willow isn't going to be right back to packing the second she wakes up
tomorrow. If you really care about her, anyway. If you don't care - just
let her go."

Julian opened his mouth to reply, but Sasha was already out of the room,
leaving him to deal with his thoughts and the entire situation.

He did care about Willow. More than he should. But that didn't make him
weak and there, as in so many places, Lillie was wrong. Caring for
Willow - loving her - made him stronger; gave him one more reason to
fight and stay alive.

He sat down heavily in one of the large leather chairs near the
fireplace, clasping his hands together. There was nothing that he wanted
more at that moment than to summon Lillie to him and banish her from the
city for daring to defy him.

But he couldn't do that.

He couldn't banish her because she was being spiteful. True, he could
deliver a severe tongue-lashing, which he firmly intended to do; but he
couldn't just kick her out of the city. It would completely undermine
his authority with the other primogens if he were to be seen as letting
his emotions control him.

So - Lillie could wait for the moment.

If Sasha was right, and he had no doubt that she was - there was a red
head upstairs that desperately needed his comforting. She wasn't making
him weak - not in the least.

He rose from the chair, walking with a surety he didn't feel towards
Willow's bedroom. The light was still on, and through the partially open
door he could hear her moving around. He pushed open the door, face
expressive with his concern, and entered into her room.

Now all he had to do was convince her that he wanted her around, for
better or worse.

From the look on her face when she finally noticed him standing there -
it was going to be a long night.

~*~Part Fifteen~*~

When Willow woke the next afternoon it was to a pillow that was stained with
the blood-tears she had cried herself to sleep with the night before. She
sighed, wiping at her face and coming away with caked on red grime. Leaning
up on an elbow, she regarded the man that slept the sleep of death beside
her. His chest neither rose nor fell, no breaths escaped his lips. Yet, he
was just as alive as she was.

She reached over, running her fingers along his bare arm, just where it
peeked out from beneath the rolled up sleeves of the dress shirt he had
never bothered to remove the night before. There were droplets of blood on
there, as well – evidence of the tears she had cried in his arms. Lillie’s
claims were completely false, he assured her. Wouldn’t he do nothing but
worry about her if she were to leave the mansion? How could he provide for
her safety and well-being if she left?

But that wasn’t all.

He cared about her and had said as much. Though the words fell on ears that
would have rather not heard them, they had still warmed her heart.

She had cried, telling him over and over again that she didn’t want to be
the cause of his downfall. And, time and again, he had told her that she
would be no such thing. Her compassion and caring made him a stronger
leader. By not forcing him to dwell on loneliness and lack of companionship,
she made him stronger. She shored up that hole in his heart that he hadn’t
even been aware was there.

At least – that was what he insisted. That was what he had held her in his
arms and said over and over again until she agreed that she believed it. In
the harsh light of day, though, she wasn’t sure if she had actually taken
his words to heart at that time or if she had just wanted him to let her go.

She eased off of the bed without a whisper of sound, trudging to the
bathroom. Her face was a wreck, just as she had thought. A quick wash off
and she was feeling a little better, if not more confused, than how she had
woken. Julian wanted her here. Julian said Lillie was lying.

And, really, why had she believed Lillie in the first place? She shook her
head, marveling over her own silly naivete. If she left the compound, Lillie
would be free to try her damndest to win Julian back without interference.

Willow smirked, slipping out of her clothing from the night before and into
something fresher. She would need to be logging in to work soon, and wanted
to be comfortable when she did it.

"You’re awake early."

She chuckled without turning back to the bed. "Not quite. I think ‘late’
would be more of the word for it. I do have a job, you know."

"A job for which I am your boss, correct?" Julian purred, wrapping his arms
around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. She smiled, closing her eyes
and leaning back into the safety his embrace symbolized.

"Yep – harsh task master that you are." She played along with a wry grin on
her face.

"I think I can manage without you for one day." He whirled her around, so
that the still unbuttoned halves of her shirt fell open, the bare skin of
her stomach and chest rubbing against the smooth silken feel of the cotton
of his own shirt.

"And what would I do with all of that free time?" Her eyes were teasing,
playful; and she dragged her tongue over her lips for extra emphasis.

"I think I could find something to keep you occupied."

Willow grinned, slowly backing him towards the bed. "You’d have to, you
know. An idle Willow is a dangerous Willow."

Julian smirked, running a thumb over her lips, tracing the wetness she had
left with her tongue. "I’ve found that a non-idle Willow is also a dangerous
Willow."

She pouted. "Are you saying I’m a troublemaker?"

"Not at all."

And, before she could say anything further, the Prince of San Francisco
pulled her into his arms, his mouth attaching hungrily to her own. His
tongue slid past the barrier of her lips, roughly pushing its way into her
mouth to plunder the cool depths that it found there. She arched into his
touch, willingly sliding back onto the bed when he pressed upon her body.

If this was how he planned to keep her busy she’d have to ask for these
‘days off’ more often.

It was nearly evening by the time they ceased their frantic, reassuring
lovemaking. She would be going nowhere, he would not permit it. It had been
said with his mouth but now he had made it clear with his body. She was his
if she was willing to be.

And, oh how she was willing!

She thought back on the packing she had been so thoroughly engaged in the
night before, when Sasha had stopped her. It would have been awful if the
other woman hadn’t wandered by and put an end to the madness that Lillie had
instilled in her. Even now there would be unpacking to do, hanging all of
her clothes up again and straightening her dresser.

"What are you thinking about?"

Willow shrugged at her lover’s question. "Unpacking. Though, I don’t think I
should. I’ll need to be back in my apartment when Buffy comes, anyway."

Julian raised up to look at her, his dark eyes glancing down over her
half-covered nakedness. "Why would she not stay here?"

That brought a snort of laughter to the red head’s lips. "The Slayer? Stay
in the house of the Prince of the City?"

"Why not?" He shrugged.

"Well – number one on the great old ‘why not’ list should be that she’s the
Slayer. You know, the one girl in all the world destined to slay vampires
and other creatures of the darkness?"

"I am well aware of who she is." Julian responded dryly.

"Then you should know why I laughed. Besides – Xander will be with her, too.
They’re my friends, no sense inconveniencing you just because they wanted a
visit."

"Your friends, your family – they are mine now. We will watch over them
together."

Another snort from Willow. "Even if one of those ‘friends’ or ‘family’
members is the Slayer?"

"Even so." He nodded."

Willow could do nothing more than shrug, an amused smile playing at the
corner of her lips.

She only hope Julian didn’t hope to soon regret his cavalier attitude
towards housing the Slayer.

~*~Part Sixteen~*~

The Slayer was coming to San Francisco.

Everywhere you turned in the Kindred community, the whispers of the 'boogeyman' were there. They were talking about it in the front rooms of The Haven, in the sitting rooms of the Complex.

Rumors abounded the streets.

Why was she coming?

Willow knew, though - and it made her smile.

Buffy was coming to town.

And Xander.

She bounced back and forth, staring through the frosted front glass and into the driveway of the Complex. A driver had already been sent to meet them at the airport. Any minute now they would be pulling up and she would see her two best friends in the entire world for the very first time since . . .

"Since I died," she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes. The scene still replayed itself in her head sometimes, at night - when she should honestly be sleeping. It would make her heart beat, something that was a rare occurence in and of itself these days. In those moments, lying in the darkness next to Julian, she could remember what it felt like to know she was going to die. To know that --

"You're thinking of it again."

Her eyes snapped open, the sound of her Sire's voice at once both soothing and thrilling.

"How can I not?" She tossed back, not turning. A moment later his arms encircled her waist, his body pressing against her back. "They'll be here soon. What if it was all just an act? What if they really can't handle me. . .like this?"

"Then it will be truly their loss," he murmured into her ear. "But I fail to see why they would do that. You would not be the first supernatural creature that they had within their circle of friends - correct?"

Willow shrugged. "Angel and Spike, of course. I haven't even talked to them yet. Spike's gonna flip when he finds out. 'Little Red - all bitey and soul-having'. It'll be good for a laugh at my expense, of course."

She could feel the soft rumble of Julian's chuckle against her back, a gentle vibration that helped to ease the tension that was racing haphazardly through her veins.

"You'll be fine," Julian assured her quietly. "They are your friends. Have faith in them."

"Yeah. . . you're ri--" Her words caught in her throat as she watched as the driver they had sent out an hour before pulled leisurely into the driveway. The red head swallowed around the lump of fear that rose up to clog her throat, fear making her lightheaded.

"Calm down." His arms loosened around her waist and then fell away as he took her shoulders to turn her to face him. Dark eyes met hers with understanding and compassion. "It will be okay."

She nodded, turning away again to stare out of the window. The driver was busily pulling luggage from the back of the car, and Willow found herself snickering. Only Buffy would need four suitcases for a one week stay. Knowing her, one of those had weapons in it - though how she got it through airport security, the red head really wasn't sure.

"It'll be okay, it'll be okay," she whispered over and over to herself, her breath catching again as first Buffy, then Xander, emerged from the car. She smiled to herself. They looked the same as she remembered them - acted the same, too, if the awestruck looks they were giving the house were any indication.

She waited until they were almost near the front steps before opening the door, a shy smile on her face.

"Hey Guys."

"Wills!"

It took her a moment to realize that the body attached to hers was Xander, and that he was slowly squeezing her hard enough that she was pretty sure, Kindred or not, that he was going to do some damage.

"Nice to see you, too," she whispered, glad to see that at least one of her friends wasn't going to be weird about what had happened to her.

"You look good!" He commented, pulling back to stare at her. His fingers brushed some hair from her cheek, eyes darting up to the sky. "Uh - sun's out and you don't go 'poof'?"

Behind him came Buffy's chuckle.

"Xan - Giles explained that to us. She's different from Angel and Spike. No sunlight poofiness."

And then Xander was being pushed out of the way, Buffy shouldering him aside to stare into Willow's eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey." Willow echoed, her stomach clenching. The Slayer was just standing there, looking at her. There was something sparkling in her eyes, something that Willow would have once considered to be amusement. But now - she wasn't sure.

"You thought we'd freak out, didn't you?" Buffy said, slowly breaking out into a grin. "Silly girl. You're still just Wills. Yeah, maybe kind of dead now - but Wills just the same."

"Giles threatened to break out some of the torture devices on us if we didn't get that through our heads quick-like," Xander snickered. "And, funny thing is, we didn't even really need the threat to do it."

Willow smiled. "Thanks, guys. You really are the bestest friends ever."

"Yeah, yeah," Buffy waved her off, pulling her close for a hug. She took the opportunity to whisper, "Now who is that hottie standing in the shadows?"

Willow giggled, not even needing to look to see who Buffy was talking about. "That's Julian."

"Wow, Wills," Buffy returned the laugh with one of her own. "If you gotta die - do it in style and hook up with a hottie in the process. That should be the Scoobie motto, you know."

The red head laughed.

Everything was going to be just fine.

~*~

Buffy leaned over the railing, looking down from the hallway to the foyer where she had stood only a few short hours before, greeting one of her best friends. The house was lovely. Much nicer than anything she had ever been in before.

But she couldn't wait to get out of it. To get back to Sunnydale.

It wasn't the house that was the problem. It was the creatures in it. Kindred, Giles had called them - as if being what they were was some sort of uber-elite vampire society. They were different, he had said.

He couldn't have been more right.

They exuded power with every motion they made, every word that came from their lips. Pure, raw power. Her spidey sense was on permanent overdrive just being in the same house with them. It wasn't the type of feeling she got from being around the vamps back home. No, that didn't come out unless the vamps were being overly vampy. Sometimse she couldn't even tell until they were in their game face, ready to rock. But these guys. . .

No, they were different, for sure. Being around them gave her the wiggins to end all wiggins.

Even Willow.

She sighed, wishing it could be different and telling herself that she could put up with it for the red head's sake. It wasn't fair to cut off ties with her just because of this weird, creepy feeling that she got around her. No, that wouldn't be fair at all - and she got the distinct impression that Xander would probably never speak with her again if she did something like that.

Not to mention the fact that she didn't want to alienate one of the few true friends she had ever been able to have and keep in her life. Before Willow and Xander showed up in the horizon that was her existence, she had been forced to watch as friends came and left in a never-ending revolving door of loneliness.

But they had always stuck by her side.

And she was determined to do the same for Willow. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, inching its way to the surface. Had the red head even noticed yet that she had changed? Gone was the shy, nervous person that had left Sunnydale and, in her place, was a woman that Buffy knew was confident on so many different levels. She'd never truly achieve that sense of self-worth that she had struggled to attain for most of her life, but that was okay. Confidence could replace that. The long skirts and flowing shirts that had been such a Willow-y trademark had been replaced with slacks and form-fitting tops; something much more businesslike that Willow had ever been inclined to wear before.

It suited her now.

"You waiting for someone?"

Buffy whirled, cursing herself silently. She hadn't even heard the man come up behind her. In a house full of vamps that couldn't be a good thing.

"No - just thinking." She shrugged, guardedly.

"Some pretty deep thoughts if that frown on your face was any indication." He walked up next to her, leaning on the balcony.

He was short for a man, only a little taller than she herself was. A goattee dotted his chin, with a hint of scruff to either side of it. Sexy, almost, she decided immediately - though not her type. He wasn't drop-dead gorgeous - not in the same category as Angel by a longshot.

"Yeah, well - life is pretty deep sometimes."

He laughed. "I guess it is."

"I'm Buffy, Willow's friend."

His smile faltered a bit there, as his eyes met hers. "I know who you are. We all do. You're the Slayer."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Yep. The complete bogeyman of all vampire kind - standing here in the flesh. It's awe-striking, huh?"

The corners of his lips twitched, finally breaking into a full smile and then a chuckle. "Don't joke. That's what you are, you know."

"I know. Believe me when I say that its a huge laugh for me. To think that I'm someone's worst nightmare. . . I mean. . .I'm what, a short little blonde chick from California? Who would've thought?"

He grinned. "Looks can be deceiving."

"So true!" She chirped. "So - what's there to do around here. . . Didn't quite get your name."

"Cash," he offered. "And there's an entertainment room with a television and some DVDs. Julian's not big on most forms of modern entertainment. I think Willow getting him to finally breakdown and buy the DVD player was something of an accomplishment."

Buffy giggled. "That's my Wills - dragging people kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century." She paused. "I'm not in the mood to watch TV, though. Too. . . jumpy. I usually go out patrolling at night to work off steam. . . but I don't think hunting in the streets while I'm here would do well for my reputation."

Cash nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You could be right. Want to spar with me? There's plenty of room out back."

She thought for only a moment before responding with a blithe - "Sure, if you think you're up to it."

He grinned. "Worried you'll hurt me."

A shrug of her shoulders complimented her next verbal volley. "Wouldn't be the first time I accidentally hurt someone I was supposed to be sparring with. Ask Willow to tell you sometime about the time I almost staked Angel."

Cash winced, leading her off down the hallway. "Sounds. . . painful. . ."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. "He wasn't happy with me. Puts a damper in your relationship to almost skewer the one you love."

He stopped so suddenly that she nearly ran into him. "You dated him? One of those. . ."

"Hey, now," she cut him off. "He's different. He has a soul. This whole big curse thing that, in the end, meant that he and I just can't be together. . ."

"Whoa." Cash exhaled sharply. "And here I thought me and Sasha had the whole Romeo and Juliet thing going on."

"She's your girl?" Buffy asked as they started walking.

"She was," he shrugged without turning. She could hear the pain in his voice, though. "A Brujah embraced her without her consent. . . And now we're as different as night and day. Nothing that can be done about it."

"That sucks." The Slayer frowned. "Brujah, huh? That's what the guy that got to Wills was, right?"

"Yeah. They're scum. Sleazy. The worst of the worst."

"Sounds like a few vamps back home that I know," Buffy quipped. "I was wondering, though. Wills said that I could come here without fear because the Slayer and her friends are off limits in you guys' world. . . So what happened with Wills?"

"Honestly?" Cash stopped, turning to face her again. "She didn't exactly tell anyone. Not that I blame her. How was she to know that the guy she was dating wasn't human? That's one of our skills - blending in. If we had known - maybe things would have been different."

It was the way he said 'maybe' that got Buffy's attention. "Maybe?"

He shrugged, continuing their walk towards the back of the house and then out into the night air. The moon overhead was half-full, still giving off plenty of light to spar by. "Maybe." He repeated. "Because the Brujah like to make their own rules. That asshole may still have attacked her. But - we'll never know now."

"Yeah." She whispered. There was a distinct feeling of loss inside of her, even though Willow wasn't dead. Only different, changed. She was still her Willow-friend in all ways that counted.

And weren't those the only ways that mattered in the end?

Buffy forced a smile on her face, chasing away the lingering sadness the trip was causing her.

"C'mon, Cash. Show me what you guys are made of."

~*~Part Seventeen~*~

"You understand what you need to do?"

The thug looked at the woman standing in front of him, a gleam in his eye
and a smirk on his lips.

"Grab the red head."

"Right. And then?"

The prompting brought an exasperated sigh to the young Brujah’s mouth. "Hide
her somewhere. Don’t let her see me. Don’t rough her up. . . too much."

"Perfect." The woman smiled, a flash of teeth in the darkness. She had
stayed in the shadows for most of the meeting. The less he could remember of
her, the better. It didn’t hurt that he was only a little smarter than a
brick to begin with. Whoever had Sired him certainly hadn’t had much taste
in Childer. Not surprising amongst the Brujah, really. They were in it for
the numbers. More expendable ‘soldiers’ to go out there and amass wealth and
power for their clan. It had nothing to do with wit, intelligence or even
good looks.

As was the case in point with this young one.

"Don’t forget. She cannot see your face. If she does –"

"I’m a dead man. Right. I gotcha." He seemed antsy, eager to get away.

Who was she to keep him any longer?

"You may go." She waved him off with one hand, lifting her drink to her lips
with another. "Don’t forget what I’ve said."

He turned, not bothering to acknowledge her last reminder. It would be his
funeral if he didn’t heed the instructions. Julian would never settle for
his precious Willow to be manhandled in any way. He’d call down the wrath of
the Nosferatu themselves to bathe in the blood of the errant Brujah.

If he was caught.

She was actually counting on him getting caught, and the Nosferatu being
called in for the Prince’s swift vengeance. The Brujah would never get a
chance to talk or tell about his meeting with her if those brutes had their
way. He would die screaming and no one would ever know of her involvement.

Which was just the way that Lillie Langtry preferred it to be.

She smiled, leaning back in the large recliner she had bought as one of the
first pieces of furniture for her new house. The house that she was forced
to live in now that Julian had chosen Willow over her. A laugh bubbled up
from her lips, sinister in the silence of the house. The red head didn’t
know what she’d gotten herself into yet. How could she? Kindred politics was
a dangerous game – something Willow was about to learn for herself.

The little girl didn’t really think she could just waltz into Julian’s life
and keep him forever and always, did she? That was naïve and overly
optimistic at best. Julian didn’t really want a woman like Willow, of that
Lillie was sure. He wanted someone strong, a take charge type of person.
Nothing meek and mild like the little red head.

"If only that messy Brujah had finished her off that night." Lillie mused
openly, her soft voice echoing in her ears. She laughed aloud, wondering at
the brashness of her own thoughts and actions. If Julian were to find out –

Well, he wouldn’t; and that was that. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on
the possibilities of things that were never going to happen. Especially not
morose thoughts such as a blood hunt being called against her for treason.

No, she wouldn’t think of that right now.

She drank down the last of her glass of wine-blood, setting the empty
crystal on the coffee table. The Haven would be in full swing by now, filled
with humans and Kindred alike. That would take her mind off of what she had
just ordered done and the possible consequences of those actions.

What was done was done, after all.

~*~*~

She had a premonition before stepping out of the complex to wander the
backyard. It didn’t come with images or a migraine, not like what she heard
Cordelia had to go through on a regular basis. It was just a feeling,
really. A feeling that something decidedly unpleasant was going to happen
that night.

Willow shook it off, letting herself out the back door and onto the ground.
The moon was overhead, casting silvery light down to the earth. At one point
in her life it would have been hardly enough to grope her way blindly with.
Not now. Her senses were heightened in so many ways since ingesting the
blood that ended up keeping her alive. She was Kindred. She was more than
human; and more than vampire. Neither, yet both at the same time.

One step beget another, and then another; until she was nearing the back of
the property and the copse of trees that lie there. She sighed, wishing that
she could just keep walking forever. It wasn’t that was anything for her to
get away from. Everything in her life seemed like it was going great – to
both herself and the outside world.

She just longed to be free. To run wild, wind in her hair. It was an urge
she got sometimes, completely natural according to Julian. All she had to do
was not give in to those wild urges. Ventrue did not abandon themselves in
such a fashion, it was beneath them.

A slow smirk crept across her face. Beneath her? Just like Julian?

"Oh wait, that’s another type of ‘beneath’," she muttered with a little
laugh.

She turned, intending to head back to the house and find out if Julian
wanted a little of her special ‘beneath’ action.

She never made it.

A crushing blow to her head landed as she turned, fading the world of
silvery light to inky blackness.

~*~Part Eighteen~*~

Willow felt herself rising from the bottomless pit that was unconsciousness,
slowly clawing her way to the surface of the waking world. Her head was
killing her, a steady rhythmic pounding that did nothing for the vile temper
that was working its way inside of her. She was going to seriously put the
hurt on someone for this.

Well, when she was able to, that is.

She opened her eyes slowly, not trusting the situation she would find
herself in. The room was dark, a welcome relief to her aching head and
frazzled nerves. Only one door stood out across the room, and it was bathed
in the warm glow of sunlight from a window in the ceiling. She bit her lip,
knowing that there was no way, in her current condition, that she'd be able
to stand in the sunlight long enough to try to open the door. She was hurt
and hungry, not a good combination. Her mind and heart ached for Julian. Her
Sire. Her lover. The one that she trusted just had to be out there,
somewhere, trying to make heads or tails of this.

Her friends wouldn't let her stay as a prisoner of whoever was doing this.

Not for long.

~*~*~

"How could this have happened?"

Buffy fought the urge to flinch under the rage enveloping the Prince's
voice. She bit her lip, pushing aside her own worry to work off of that
anger. She was furious, she had to be. Willow was gone, missing. A couple
people had seen her wandering outside, towards the back of the property, for
a walk. But, after that -

Nothing.

She had never come back inside.

Not last night, not this morning. No one had noticed until Julian had
returned to the room he shared with her, and found the bed empty.

That was when all hell had broken loose.

The grounds were searched, the complex scavenged.

But no one could find her. No one could find anything with any clue as to
where she had gone. The only thing that was for sure was that she hadn't
gone willingly. There were marks on the ground at the very back of the
property. Marks that looks suspiciously like a body being dragged over the
earth; bits of grass displaced.

The marks ended at a side street, more like a dusty dirt path used by the
gardeners for maintaining the back shrubbery. There were tire tracks there,
fresh Cash said. She had to agree. The day before had been windy and any
tracks left by the gardeners during the day would have been blown away.
These tracks were crisp when they were found, though. They hadn't eroded one
bit thanks to the still night.

"I want the grounds searched -" Julian stormed, eyes glowing silver with
ire.

"Sir -"

"AGAIN!" He yelled, fist banging on the table he had stopped in front of.
"Search the ground -again-."

Xander was standing nervously nearby, very visibly offering up those
flinches that Buffy herself refused to show. She reached out, laying a hand
reassuringly on his shoulder.

"We're going to find her," she murmured. "Don't worry."

"I'm not, really," he sighed. "I'm just. . . .I dunno. . . She's been
through so much recently. And now she's missing. I just sorta thought that,
with her leaving Sunnyhell and everything, she was finally safe."

"I know." Buffy nodded, sadness filling her eyes. How many times had she
wondered the same thing? How had the horrors of the supernatural managed to
find Willow no matter where she went?

"We will find her." Julian's voice was quietly soothing as he joined them,
the others having left to repeat their search. "And when we do, whoever is
responsible will be held fully accountable for their actions."

"Accountable as in much pain?" Xander asked, hopeful.

"Justice will be served." A small smile crossed Julian's lips. "Whoever took
her must want something - either from her or myself. Is there anything you
can think of, in regards to Willow, that would make someone want her?"

"Well, other than the fact that she's the most powerful witch in this
hemisphere?" Buffy snorted. "No, nothing at all."

Julian sighed. "I fear that anyone who took her for that reason will soon
grow. . .displeased. Willow was unable to retain her powers after her
Embrace. Our system and her magics were not compatible. This is often the
case."

Xander paled. "So she's out there. . . defenseless? That's what you're
saying?"

"Not defenseless. She is Kindred. No longer a witch, true. But still
powerful in her own right."

"But -"

The door to the sitting room slammed open, one of the many residents of the
complex racing in.

"Yes, Billy?"

"We found this.. Near the marks."

Buffy and Xander stepped closer to see the object that the man held. It was
small, just a scrap of cloth. It could have come from anywhere. A shade of
grey that was so boring it was non-descript, there was no way of telling if
it came from Willow, her kidnapper, or someone else entirely.

Julian took the bit of fabric in his hand, eyes closing as the two humans
looked on. They shared a glance between them, wondering at what they were
witnessing, what it could mean. Buffy turned to Billy, intending to get
answers to her curiosity; but found herself cut off almost immediately by
Julian's snarl -

"Get Cameron here -now-!"

~*~*~

Someone was breaking things.

Someone was coming.

Willow opened her eyes, pain and hunger making her weak and near unthinking.

Dreams of blood had been running through her head for hours now, as she
dozed in and out of sleep. Sometimes she could picture her victims, nameless
faces - young and old, men and women. Elderly, young. It didn't matter. All
that still held reason was the blood. The blood would make the pain go away.
The blood would make everything better. If she could just. . .

She growled, glaring at the doorway. To step into the light would mean
certain death, but she was almost willing to risk it. She could imagine
walking over there, into the light, and wrenching the door off of its hinges
and then finding the first neck, willing or unwilling, and sinking her fangs
in deep.

So deep.

She licked her lips, the noises outside her 'cell' getting closer. She could
hear someone. A few someones. They almost sounded familiar. If only she
could think straight, past the pain and blinding hunger.

The knob twisted, and then the door did what she'd wanted for what seemed
like forever - it opened, the tearing sound of metal filling the air. She
snarled leaping forward. Whoever was out there, it didn't matter.

"Willow!"

"Get out of the way!"

Then it was there, in front of her face. Skin and blood. Blood beneath the
skin. She drank, hungrily; consumed by a thirst she had never known the true
strength of until now.

And then a voice, whispering,

"Sleep."

~*~Part Nineteen~*~

The Slayer walks the streets.

A blood hunt has been called.

Death has come for those that betray.

The rumor were everywhere that Willow turned upon waking. She could hear
them through her doorway, from the Gangrel guards that stood there to watch
over her. Julian had called a blood hunt?

She pulled herself from her bed, all too aware of her nudity. That was
Julian's doing, she hoped. Or Buffy's. Certainly no one else would have been
allowed to see her in such a state. She yanked a soft set of light blue warm
up clothes from her dresser, tugging them on as she tried to remember all
that had happened.

She had been kidnapped, that was step one in this little time line of hers.
She had been put in a room where sunlight kept her from doing much of
anything. And then -

Oh, dear Goddess.

She whimpered, nearly collapsing. Images of herself, torn to madness with
bloodlust, flashing through her brain. These were from Julian, from the
blood he had given her there, at the scene of her rescue. She had tried to
go for Buffy and Xander, though. They had been just food to her at that
moment. Nothing more than a warm meal to feed the gnawing hunger that had
been tearing her apart from the inside out.

Willow sobbed, pulling herself back up and onto the bed. She wanted to crawl
under the blankets and just die; to never again show her face to . . .well.
. .anyone.

"Willow."

She heard his voice the second before the bed creaked under his weight. Her
Sire was there, pulling at the blankets. He wanted to look at her and,
despite the urge to allow him what he wanted, she couldn't bring herself to
do it. He had been there. He had seen her at that low, low point.

How could he want her now? How could he think of her as anything more than a
beast?

"Please stop this." He sighed, and the pulling abated. "Can we talk?"

"Don't wanna."

The sound of his chuckle followed her plaintive decree, and without being
prepared for another onslaught, he was able to pull the blankets away from
her face. She looked up at him, lower lip trembling. Everything hurt so much
more since the night of her Embrace. It was like living life in hyperdrive.
The idea of losing him alone was enough to bring tears to her eyes. He had
gotten to be that important that quickly.

And it scared her.

Losing him scared her.

What she was scared her.

After all these weeks, nearly a month and a half now; she wasn't used to
what she had become. She hadn't even begun to understand what she was at
this point in her life. She was no longer a witch. There was no magic there
for her to call. She was a vampire. Not the soulless kind, that she had
known from the first time she woke up. But what being Kindred really meant?

Well that she was sure she'd be struggling to find out for years to come.
Even now she felt like she was changing. She was always changing. Urges that
had never been hers before were suddenly a part of her reactions and
everyday behaviors.

And now this.

The undeniable hunger that she had felt. The madness that had taken over, be
it only for that brief time. In that moment, was she really any better than
the cretins that roamed the Hellmouth? Had she had a soul when she was about
to lunge at her friends just for a fresh meal?

"It happens, Willow."

If he had been speaking before that, she couldn't have said. Those were the
first words that made it through to her, in any event.

"I was an animal, Julian." She sobbed, sitting up only so that it was easier
to pull back from him when he reached for her. "You don't want to touch me.
You can't want to."

He raised an eyebrow, the gesture eloquent in its mocking sincerity. "Is
that so? You know so well what I want?"

Willow felt her face heat up in a blush, blood filling the dead cells that
now made up her face, coloring it just the lightest shade of pink. It was
ironic, she decided in that moment, that even whilst amongst the 'living
dead' she couldn't escape such embarrassing habits such as blushing. And
stammering. And babbling.

"You know me well, Willow." Julian murmured, pulling her numbing body into
his arms. She felt his hand press against his cheek and didn't fight against
it as he pressed her head slowly to his chest. "But you do not know the
workings of my mind that well. When I heard that you were gone. Missing. It
tore me apart."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, and it was the truth. She had never meant to
cause him pain. Never meant to worry him. And yet, she had. Despite her best
efforts, she had done that which she hadn't intended.

"You do not apologize for this!" His voice was stern now. "This is the work
of someone that obviously thinks they are above reproach."

She pulled back. "Who?"

"Two Brujah thugs held you captive. The one that originally abducted you has
already met his death. The other is on the run. The Nosferatu, Gangrel and
the Slayer wander the streets searching for him."

"Why?" She sniffled. "What did I do to them?"

"Nothing." Julian frowned. "You did nothing, which is why you shouldn't be
sorry. This is my fault. I should have seen the signs. I should have
recognized -"

He sighed.

"What else happened?"

Julian's dark eyes met hers for a long moment before he finally spoke again.
"We found out from the first Brujah that this wasn't their doing at all.
Cameron played no part in the abduction. If the Brujah is to be believed, he
knew nothing about it." He paused. "This was Lillie's doing."

"What?!?" She struggled to sit up, only to be held down by his strong arms.

"She is being held downstairs," Julian murmured, stroking her hair with his
free hand. "And, for once, I find myself at a loss. She was. . . special to
me, at one time. And now -"

Willow managed to ease out of his grasp now, staring into a face that was
just as troubled as she felt herself. He wasn't acting like a man that was
ending a relationship. He just looked sad.

She reached for him now, sliding down into the bed so that they were laying
facing one another.

"I wish I could help."

He smiled, just a quirk of his lips. "I wish you could, too."

"But I can't."

Julian shook his head. "Not in this."

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "So. . . .me and you. You still want to
be, you know, with me - after what happened?"

The smile spread to cover the entirety of his mouth. "It is natural for a
Kindred that is hurt or hungry to act as you did. I have explained as much
to your friends, and they appear to have taken it to heart. If they have
done as much, how could I do less, having experienced it for myself?"

"I'm silly, huh?"

"Not at all."

His fingers were wiping the tears from her face. "You are something special
to me, Willow. I don't know why Fate chose to place you in my life in that
manner or at that time - however I'm not one to question it. The future may
bring something different. Who can really say? But tonight, tomorrow, this
week. . . I have no plans other than just being with you."

Willow smiled, snuggling deeper into his arms. Somewhere out there the
Slayer was wandering the streets. Her abductor would be brought to justice,
of that Buffy would be sure. And Julian wasn't breaking things off.

The only question that still remained was Lillie.

~*~Moonlit Paths 20~*~

And so it was over. She was safe. The two Brujah that had pulled off the
actual kidnapping had met their final death in the morning sun, burned to a
crisp from what she understood, bleeding from the neck. Buffy hadn't gotten
to assist with that part, something that she had whined about for most of
the day before getting over it, however begrudgingly.

However Lillie still remained.

Willow watched Julian from across the room; watched the emotions play across
his face. This was tearing him up inside, and she hated to be at the center
of it all. Lillie had been his companion for more years than she had been
alive. They were friends at one point, lovers at others. But always
together.

And then she had entered Julian's life and Lillie hadn't been able to deal
with it.

This was the result.

"Send her away." She found herself saying, raising her voice to be heard
above the crackle of the fireplace, while subconsciously knowing that he
would have been able to hear her regardless.

He looked up, dark eyes filled with a myriad of things she couldn't
understand and didn't want to try to. It was the last thing he expected from
her, though; that much she knew. Anyone else in her position should have
been demanding Lillie's death. It was within her rights to make a case for
it, in front of all of the Primogen.

She couldn't bring herself to do it. Not when she saw the raw emotion on
Julian's face. The pain that this decision was placing on him. Sending her
away was the easiest solution.

"You would agree to that?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah." Willow shrugged. She slid out of her chair, walking across the room
to his desk. He pushed back, allowing her to settle into his lap without a
protest; and she laid her head on his chest. "Your heart races."

"Being with you does that to me."

She laughed, quietly, at the joke he tried so valiantly to make. "IF only it
were that, my Prince." She paused, biting her lip in thought, almost hard
enough to draw blood, before continuing. "Send her away. I will not ask for
her death."

He shifted and began to slowly stroke her hair, a gesture she had found
soothed him more than her.

"The Primogens may not agree to it."

"They will." Willow whispered. "Enough to kick her out, anyway. It's that,
or death. I don't think any of them harbor enough of a grudge to wish her
dead."

No, that was -her- job. And she wasn't able to bring up the strength to do
it, to cause Julian that much pain. She had heard the stories of how
Alexandra's death had broken him; and couldn't bear the thought of watching
him go through it again.

"You are wise beyond your years," he murmured, laying his head atop her own.
"And far more lenient than I would be."

She knew that already. Just as she knew that coming before the Primogens and
asking for Lillie's death would gain her no friends and forever place a
bitter spot in Julian's heart for her.

It was a tactical move as much as one of the heart.

~*~*~

"Watch your back."

Willow smiled, nodding. "I know, Buff. Don't worry."

The blonde snorted. "I didn't worry before and look where that got all of
us."

"Hey now," the Kindred woman shook her head emphatically. "I've told you
before that you can't blame this on yourself and I mean it. It's just as
much my fault for going to that club that night with someone I knew wasn't
all he said he was. I thought I could take care of myself."

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, sure. Blame yourself. That's the easy way out."

Willow grinned, engulfing the Slayer in a hug. Xander was already in the
car, waiting to leave for the airport. Her own goodbye with him had been far
more teary and in the way of promising to call and write more often. Buffy,
it appeared, was going to be the 'easy' one for a change.

"Don't forget to call. Once a week. Or more. More is better."

"Yes, mom," the red head rolled her eyes. "I'll call so much you'll get sick
of hearing from me."

"Won't happen." Buffy promised with another hug. "I gotta go - comfort
Xander, catch a plane and all that."

"Call me when you get in so I know you got there safe?"

"Always."

"Say 'hi' to Giles and give him a hug for me?"

"Definitely." Buffy grinned.

Willow nodded and yet another hug was exchanged. She backed away, into the
doorway of the house, before she could think of any other things to say or
do to keep the two of them from leaving. She waved as they left, waved until
she couldn't see them any more; and only then did she return to the dim
coolness of the house, shutting the door behind her.

Julian was off somewhere - at a meeting for one of his companies. There
would be no hugs or kisses to make the ache in her heart stop hurting so
much.

But she'd be okay.

She'd made it this far.

~*~End Fic~*~