invisiblecompany

"Thanks for coming, Giles," Angel showed Giles into the living room and handed the watcher a cup of tea that the little folks had prepared as soon as they returned to the mansion.

"It's the least I can do. Tara is, was like a daughter to me,” Giles said.

"Willow should be here, but –"

"How is she?"

"Harmony is trying to get her settled, she hasn't said anything to us, hasn't eaten anything for days," Angel sighed as he stirred honey into his tea.

"That's worrying.”

They busied themselves with their respective teas for a moment. Two men, one nearing the end of his life, the other facing immortality, stirring sugar and milk into their tea. It should be amusing, but neither could muster even a small grin.

"This isn't a social call. You're worried about something, aren't you?" Angel leant forward in his armchair and confronted the elder Watcher.

"You can guess what it is.”

"The state of affairs, as Wesley might put it."

Giles took a sip of tea before answering. "With Willow out of action, I, we, need to know if the Sunnydale Peace will hold. I also need to know if she is stable – she is very powerful, and if she is overcome by grief there's no telling what she might do. I'm sorry if I sound callous, but there are larger things at stake than a vampire in deep mourning."

"What about you? Can your slayers keep their side of the agreement?" Angel asked bluntly.

"We're not the ones with a potential loose cannon on our hands, Angel. The slayers are status quo. The demon population, on the other hand, is restless; we heard some are harboring thoughts of dissent. Even so I'm not concerned, I trust you to keep the fighting factions at bay. But can you control Willow?" Giles threw the question back at Angel.

Angel considered Giles' question carefully. He and the watcher had too much history, too much water under the bridge, they understood each other too well, for him to ignore the question, or dismiss it with false assurances. Truth was, Willow had passed over most of Master duty to the Family she carefully put together. Shortly after Tara was diagnosed she sent for Angel and gave him chapter and verse.

"Most of my businesses run themselves. Anya keeps an eye on the finances and deals with the demon world, Cordelia runs the legit businesses and Harm is my muscle. I'll make an appearance once in a while, but since you were the one who forced this Mastership on me, you're taking over until Kitten is cured. Don't come to me unless it's absolutely necessary," Willow the Master instructed while helping Tara pack for their flight to New York.

"The only person who could rein in Willow's power was Tara. If Willow goes on a rampage, we'll need a combined force of slayers and all the demons I can muster. Failing that, of course there's Dru," he said slowly.

"You're asking me to entrust the safety of the population of Sunnydale, perhaps the world, on your crazy childe?"

"And what's the alternative?"

Giles had no answer to that.

When Harmony came into the living room, she found the two men sitting silently across from each other, both in deep contemplation.

"Er Angel, am I interrupting?"

"No. Did you get Willow settled in?" Angel asked.

Harmony fidgeted uncomfortably. "She insisted on going to her Sanctum, won't let me take her to her bedroom. She's way stronger than me, Angel, I can't fight her," she tried to explain, her eyes following her boss as he jumped up from his seat and stormed toward the other side of the mansion.

Harmony and Giles exchanged a look and followed swiftly.

"Willow! Childe, let me in!" Angel rapped loudly on the doors of the Sanctum, doors of solid black glass that mocked him with their silence. He looked at Giles with fear in his eyes. "Willow, Giles is here, he wants to speak to you. He’s leaving soon."

Again the silence mocked his helplessness.

"If she's in the Sanctum surely she's safe, we can leave her be," Giles said.

"The problem is, no one can enter without her permission, and I don't know what she'll think up when the reality that Tara is gone sinks in. Besides, I want to make sure there is nothing made of wood that she can use," Angel replied.

"You think ... oh. Do you think she’ll do harm to herself?"

"Yes," Angel said simply.

"But taking everything made of wood away won't help. It won't stop her from casting a sun spell or conjuring up holy water," Harmony commented.

Angel turned back to the doors and raised his hand again. Before it connected, they slid open with an almost silent hiss. He stepped forward, and was stopped by an invisible barrier. He was about to shout out when Giles stepped in without problem.

Giles blinked as he entered the bright, white space. No windows but the light provided by discrete crystals was just like daylight. He felt the tell-tale signatures of high magic by two bonded witches, he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, so interwoven was their magic. And their everything else.

Willow looked so small, hunched behind her giant translucent table where she conducted business over the years. Giles himself had been at the opposite end of that desk many times, receiving the cold-eyed stare of the Master of Sunnydale on matters to do with the slayers or watchers. Willow always seemed like a giant, sitting there at her desk, her confidence, her demeanor, her stature, all befitting her job.

He was shocked at how frail she looked now. There was no fire left in those eyes. As he approached, he heard soft whispering.

"Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays you work at the museum. You love the influence you have over the curators and the variety of art you bring to the exhibits. Sunnydale Museum has become one of the most notable in southern California because of your desire to nurture local artists."

She had on her lap a desk diary, the type that used to be popular before the advent of multi-functional PDA/camera/phone/mini-computer devices. She was flipping through page after page, full of a woman's flowery handwriting.

"Tuesdays you work in your studio, sometimes all day, until I have to come fetch you for dinner. You never show me your work until they're almost done and I fall more in love with you every time you show me."

Giles realized who she was talking about, talking to. His legs almost gave way and he had to lean on the wall for support, so absorbed was he in sharing Willow's reminiscence.

"Thursdays you go riding. You tease me continually about my horse fear. You say the most powerful Master on the west coast shouldn’t be afraid of itty bitty horsies. I love to taste the earthy scents on you after you come back from riding, it permeates your skin, your hair, inside you. There is something different about you after you ride, something earthy and solid. Thursday is when Cowboy Kitten comes out to play with Willow-pet."

Slim fingers traced a pattern on the page, along the words, as if wanting to follow the path forged by the ink.

"When you started treatment the first thing you had to give up was riding, and you said that was one of the biggest regret you had. And when you became too weak to hold a brush, you told me that at some moments you wanted me to forget about our promise. But I always keep my promise, I'll always keep my promise to you."

With a deep stuttering breath, she closed the diary and looked at Giles for the first time in, what was it, months, years?

"It's Saturday today. It's her favorite day because it's 'date night'. That's when we can forget about being vampire & human, Master & Kitten, black & white. We can be ourselves on a Saturday night.”

"I'm so sorry, Willow.” Giles meant it. Tara was his daughter, and over the years he had come to accept Willow as Tara's mate. It was unheard of, this amount of attachment between a soul-less vampire and a human. When the Council heard about this, they were both concerned and intrigued. It took him several years of playing hard politics to deflect the interest and stop the inquisition from the bumbling fools across the Atlantic.

"She made me promise to never Turn her, not under any circumstances. We thought we'd have 50 or 60 years together, and privately I thought I'd figure something out during that time," she paused, then she grimaced. "Is it because I'm evil? Undeserving? That I don't even get 50 years?" Her voice broke into a sob at the last few words.

"Oh, child." Giles didn't know how to begin to comfort the distraught vampire. He was sure she would want to forget this incident afterwards, of how vulnerable she appeared in front of him. He never expected when he started his training as a watcher that one day he'd be trying to console a vampire over losing her pet. Except he recognized that slotting Willow into the 'demon/vampire' box and Tara into the 'pet' box was far too simplistic. Tara had long shred the 'pet' identity to all but the newest demon overlords who came by for 'diplomatic' visits.

Willow was weeping quietly, her breath came in short gasps, as if she still needed to breathe to exist. Her grief was palpable, he recognized that grief in its purest form was still grief. His concern for her well-being grew.

"I was writing something for her, but I all have are crumpled bits of paper," she said suddenly, gazing at a small mountain of yellow paper that was scattered around her desk.

Giles picked up one of the balled up pieces of paper, asked the silent question and was afforded a small nod. He read the words in small, neat handwriting and tears welled up in his eyes, he had not felt as touched in his sixty-odd years.

He choked back a cry at the sensitivity of the words. But he stiffened, he had something more serious to discuss with Willow, and he didn't know how to start.

"There is no need for the frowny face, Giles. She made me promise, and I keep my promises to her, I always have and will do so till I'm dust. So you can go back to merry old England and leave your slayers and watchers to play with my grandsire." A harder edge crept into Willow's voice.

"Willow, I –" Giles started, surprised at the sudden change in atmosphere inside the Sanctum.

"I really appreciate you coming. She does too. But I also know the other reason why you're here. Your pitiful world is safe from this world destroyer. Now leave me alone with my pain."

Before Giles could utter another word, a blast of magic propelled him back toward the door. "Willow, what about you? You have to take care of yourself," he managed to shout out before he was unceremoniously dumped outside into the hallway and the doors closed behind him.

"Go home, Giles," Willow's voice projected inside his head.

"Well?" Angel and Harmony pounced on him immediately.

He could only look at them forlornly.

*****