“Dawn,” Tara whispered. “Bring me something of Buffy’s.”

“Something of Buffy’s?” the Slayer’s sister asked.

“I’ll need something of hers to locate her energy,” Tara explained, never opening her eyes. “And something of Angel’s.”

Dawn glanced at Xander, who shrugged, and she moved to take off the ring on her middle finger. “Is a ring okay? I’ve been wearing it though…won’t it have, like, Dawn all over it now?”

Tara smiled. “No. As long as it’s hers it will work.”

Walking to the table Dawn opened Tara’s hand and closed her fingers around the ring. Immediately Tara felt the tingle of magic. “And Angel?” she asked.

Cordelia glanced at Wesley. “I don’t think we have anything of his.”

“Oh! Wait!” Fred cried suddenly and dashed over to Connor’s punkin’ seat. From around the handle she removed a rope bracelet. “Here,” she said, crossing the room quickly and thrusting the rope and beads into Willow’s hand. “This is Angel’s. He’s had it for a long time. He tied it to Connor’s seat for protection.”

“This will work,” Willow murmured, lacing the rope through her fingers. “I can feel it.”

“Let’s begin,” the blonde witch instructed.

The room was silent except for the faint sound of Willow and Tara’s breathing as they relaxed and concentrated on slipping into the astral field.

It was calming, lying here with Tara so near her, even if it was on the Magic Box table. Willow pushed that thought out of her mind and tried to just let herself go without falling asleep. She focused on the sound of her own breath echoing inside her head until she felt sleep calling her. As she was about to drop off she heard someone whispering her name.

“Willow,” it sighed.

Her eyes flew open and she jumped.

Tara’s eyes opened. “That was me,” she said softly, taking Willow’s hand and squeezing it. “I was finding you. It’s okay…try again?”

Willow turned her head to gaze into Tara’s eyes, and nodded. “Sorry, it startled me. I’ll be better this time.”

“Just relax. You’re doing fine,” the blonde reassured her.

Nodding again Willow closed her eyes and let out a few deep breaths, forcing herself to relax. Within moments she felt the gentle call of sleep and found a spot behind her lids to concentrate on, willing herself to it. This time when Tara whispered to her she let the sound caress her skin and tried to turn her head.

“Take a moment to get used to it,” Tara instructed.

She was near, Willow could tell, could almost feel the tickle of her breath on the side of her face, but she couldn’t move, nor could she see.

“I can’t see,” she croaked out. Even talking was difficult. The only thing she’d done that was even similar to this experience was last year when she’d entered Buffy’s mind after Glory had captured Dawn. And there she’d moved with ease. This, this was entirely different.

A hand closed over hers. “Relax. You’re doing great,” Tara murmured, almost reading her mind. “When you were in Buffy’s head…it was a lot like this, only you did that with magic. Astral states are natural, anyone can achieve them. Just think about what you want to do. Practice with something small, like wiggling your pinkie,” she suggested.

Willow concentrated and a moment later felt her finger move.

“Good,” Tara smiled. “Baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” Willow struggled to say.

They worked a while more until Willow could force her eyes open. Before her was a swirl of beautiful light. Tiny wisps of color chased each other, like fairies playing tag. “Wow,” she breathed.

Tara smiled again. “I thought you might like this. It’s pretty, huh?”

Willow nodded and Tara beamed. “Good! You nodded!” she exclaimed. “Ready to try walking?”

Willow gulped and tentatively moved her feet. It wasn’t as hard as she’d thought though her arms hung at her sides like lead weights. “I can walk without moving my arms,” she assured her friend.

Tara hid a smile and turned to the light. “I’m going to take your hand now, and channel my energy into yours so we move together. I don’t want to get separated here.”

Willow nodded and turned her head slightly, surprised to find them floating above their own bodies. The shop in its entirety was behind them, their friends shifting from foot to foot, watching their comatose forms on the table below. “They can’t see us, right?”

Tara shook her head. “No…but it’s best not to look back. That’s the quickest way back into your body.”

She took Willow’s hand in hers and closed her eyes, returning to face the light. Willow followed suit and a moment later felt a gentle pull as Tara began to walk. In what seemed like only seconds Tara nudged her and Willow opened her eyes.

“Where are we?” she asked. Churning around them was an endless tunnel of pinkish-purple light. She glanced to the sides and saw faint images that seemed to peer back at her for a moment, then danced away in the rush of twirling light.

Tara turned to her. “We’re walking the Planes.”

“The Planes?”

Tara nodded. “It’s like a mystical subway station. If we cross through the light at the right place, we’ll get off at the right dimension.”

“Oh,” Willow said, stunned at what she was witnessing. “How’s that again?”

Tara smiled. “The ring carries Buffy’s essence. It will help us be directed to her, wherever she is.”

“What about Angel?”

“It’s the same with the bracelet. But I’m hoping they’re together, wherever they are. If they are, we’ll know.”

“How?” Willow asked as they seemed to float down the spiraling tunnel. Despite the whirlwind of color all around them, the tunnel was quiet and windless.

“Like this,” Tara said, holding up the ring that was now glowing with violet light, similar to what whirled around them. In a moment the ring began to tug on her hand, almost pulling Tara to the spot where she and Willow would need to cross over.

“Here,” the blond said finally and they stopped walking, standing to one side of the tunnel. “This is it.”

“I guess sooooo!” Willow shouted as the bracelet jerked her violently and sent Willow careening through the portal.

“Willow!” Tara cried and walked through the tunnel wall after her.

When they stepped through, Willow just moments ahead of Tara, they had entered a giant chamber. The walls were made of a substance both women were sure they’d never seen before. It was gel-like, soft but durable, a faint green color, like the shade of budding leaves. On either side of them were giant doorways leading into darkened hallways. Ahead of them was a staircase, made of the same gelatinous substance, only tinted a darker green. There were no visible lighting fixtures; there didn’t need to be. The walls themselves seemed to glow from the inside, allowing the room to be well lit, if not slightly eerie.

“Where are we?” Willow whispered, terrified.

Tara shook her head. “I don’t know. But look.” She indicated the ring and the bracelet which where now fairly jumping in the witches’ hands.

“Jeepers,” Willow murmured.

“We should look for them,” Tara suggested. Willow swallowed and nodded and the two girls began to move around the room, warily, though nothing could hurt them here.

They peered down hallways, looking for any sign of their friends, but if nothing else the ring and the bracelet calmed the farther out of the main chamber they strayed. After a few moments they met back in the middle and the objects again took up their dance.

“I don’t understand,” Tara began, when Willow glanced up and grabbed Tara’s arm. She slowly raised her arm and pointed to the ceiling. Tara’s eyes followed Willow’s horrified gaze to see Buffy and Angel’s bodies floating high above them, unconscious. They were hovering, face down, arms out as if they were flying, expressions of peace on their faces. And they were surrounded by a bubble of shining, silvery light. The light whipped around them, churned, protecting them from the outside, holding them captive within.

“Are they dead?” Willow whispered shakily, grabbing for Tara’s hand, her eyes never leaving her friends.

“I don’t think so,” came Tara’s ragged reply. “Look…Buffy seems to be content, but…look at Angel.” Angel’s face seemed to change back and forth between ease and anger as they watched.

Willow glanced at Tara. “What’s going on?”

“It’s the ritual. They’re in the process of having their souls removed…I guess this is the simulated bliss thing the demon guy was talking about.”

“We have to get them down.” Willow said hurridly. “I can’t leave them like that. Look for a way to get up there!”

“Done,” Tara murmured and began to levitate, floating about two feet off the ground.

Willow came to a dead stop. “How—how are you doing that?”

Tara smiled serenely. “I learned a long time ago…it takes concentration. Don’t try it yet, it will just drain you. I’ll be right back.” Without another word Tara began to rise higher and higher off the floor until she was almost on top of Buffy’s floating figure. She stopped and stared at the Slayer for a moment, then tentatively reached out and touched one finger to the bubble that held her friend. It was soft, made of the same material as the walls, but clear.

Closing her eyes Tara murmured, “Release.” Nothing happened. Furrowing her brow she repeated, “Release.”

Glancing at the ground she saw that Willow was watching her earnestly. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know!” Tara called out. She turned back to the bubble. “Desiste!” she tried, a bit more forcefully. Still nothing. Frustrated, and now a bit scared, Tara fired off spell after spell, to no avail.

Her mind opened to reach Willow’s. Magic isn’t working, she said despairingly as she moved around to Angel’s bubble.

Tara’s words echoed in her head and she felt the magic flow back into her veins as she answered her with her own thoughts. Maybe it’s some super-Slayer force-field. Try Angel, the red head suggested, pacing back and forth, frustrated that she wasn’t able to help.

Tara repeated every spell she knew, magic practically flying from her fingertips, but with the same results.

“I don’t know, Will--” Tara began when suddenly the Angel-bubble began to move. Tara flew backwards, out of the way of the now slowly descending bubble, watching with wide eyes. The vampire’s face began to contort, in pain and anguish…and…what seemed to Tara to be…frustration?

The witches watched as the orb lowered to the ground, almost directly where Willow was standing. From her vantage point, Willow could clearly see Angel, who was face-down, heading for her. Tara remained in the air, about twenty feet above the green gel floor where Willow stood.

Angel was now about thirty feet from the ground and Willow stood beneath him, fascinated at what she was witnessing. His face was still drawing expressions of agony, until…for a brief moment he seemed to calm. For the span of about fifteen seconds, Willow could believe he was merely sleeping, lost in a dream somewhere, and that the man above her was her friend from long ago.

And then Angel’s face changed completely, and she knew, should those eyes open, they would glow a dull amber. No longer would they bear weariness and concern. Those eyes would now be filled with rage, with hate, with glee at the murderous thoughts that would fill his mind.

And then those eyes did open.

Willow gasped and backed up as quickly as possible.

Angel’s eyes darted around from left to right, taking in his surroundings before focusing on the petite red head in front of him. And when he smiled, the pointed teeth that she’d expected to see, gleamed.

“Willow,” he rasped, his tone almost merry as he continued to be lowered to the ground. Within moments the bubble touched down and burst and Angel, no, Angelus fell to the ground, lying on his stomach. Turning his head to look at her, his eyes flashed and he grinned sickly before leaping to his feet and dusting himself off.

Willow’s heart was racing. “Tara!” she screeched, turning to run. “How do I fly?! How do I fly!?”

“He can’t hurt you!” Tara reminded her just as Angelus reached her friend on the ground. His giant arms reached for her…and fell right through.

“Wh-what?” he stuttered in disbelief. He swiped at her again, Willow dodging his swings purely on instinct. “What is this?” he shouted.

“Not your day!” Tara all but growled at him as she reached the pair and took Willow’s hand, lifting her into the air.

“And you were trying so hard to get me out…now you’re running away?” Angelus asked, prowling around the room. “Little witches dabbling in magic. You know? I burned a witch once. She screamed for what seemed like hours,” he taunted, grinning up at them. “And look at you now, floating around like little birdies. Like target-practice.”

“Ignore him,” Willow told Tara and turned to Buffy. “We’ve got to get her down. If Angel’s turned already, Buffy can’t be far behind.”

But Angelus wasn’t through talking. “Never thought when the Soul got pushed through that portal that things would get so interesting. I’d hoped, of course…but you can’t ever be sure. God knows it had to be better than being there, with you losers, all whining about your petty lives and silly problems. And then I heard the magic words…soul-extraction. And it was like a siren’s song, you know?” He stopped and made eye contact with Willow. “And look at us now. You and blondie there playing ghosts, and my little Buff…trapped in a big ball…like a giant cat toy.”

“Nice little dream world those kooky demons conjured up for us,” he continued, prowling along the floor. “Gotta hand it to Buff, she knows how to please her man…a little naïve, perhaps…and it has been so long since, well…since I had a chance to test her skills, but she’s living proof you can teach an old Slayer new tricks.” He smiled lewdly and Willow and Tara did their best to tune him out. “I’d imagine she’s just about soulless by now…kinda like me,” he said, motioning to Buffy’s languid body. “This ought to be interesting.”

“Buffy’s going to wake up and he’ll be there, waiting for her. He’ll ambush her!” Willow whispered fervently.

“No, he won’t,” Tara declared and they headed for the bubble.

“Ah ah ah!” Angelus taunted. “Bad little birdies!” he shouted gleefully, reaching into his duster and producing a stake.

“What’s he--?” Willow asked.

“He’s staking himself?” Tara said at the same time.

Instead Angelus reached back and rocketed the stake towards the bubble. It burst on impact and Buffy’s body hurtled to the ground.

“Buffy!” Willow shrieked and Tara took off across the room.

Angelus caught the Slayer easily. “I’d say round one goes to me, ladies,” he grinned. “Where magic fails, brute strength and a pointy piece of wood come through. Ironic, don’t you think?”

Buffy’s eyes had popped open the moment the protective bubble had exploded around her. Shocked and confused to find herself free falling in a foreign environment, then caught roughly in the arms of a vampire, it took her a moment to adjust. Gazing up into the arms of her savior she realized that this was no hero holding her.

Buffy yelped and used all her strength to free herself from Angel’s arms.

“I don’t think so, vamp,” she spat, bouncing onto the balls of her feet, ready for any attack he might spring upon her.

“Where’s the love, Buff?” Angelus purred. “A moment ago you couldn’t get enough of me…remember that?”

Buffy’s eyes twitched. “Can’t help what happens when you’re under a spell, Angelus. But magic’s been turned off. And now it’s you and me.”

“Buffy!” Willow cried as she and Tara came to rest behind her.

“Stay out of this, witch,” the Slayer snarled and Willow’s face registered shock.

“But—Buffy--”

Buffy ignored her. “Let’s finish this, vamp,” she snapped.

Angelus smiled and bowed low. “I’ve been waiting so long.”

The fight was on. “Buffy! No!” Willow shouted. “You can’t!”

Her pleads slid off the Slayer’s shoulders. “Can.”

Willow turned to Tara. “What do we do?” she asked, panicking. “They can’t kill each other!”

Tara was staring at the fighters as they danced around each other. For a moment they sized each other up, though they knew the other’s fighting style as well as their own, and then it was on. Angelus rushed at Buffy, who leapt nimbly up and over him with preternatural abilities neither Willow nor Tara had ever seen her exercise. Spinning as she landed, Buffy kicked out, her foot connecting squarely with his back, and knocking Angelus face-first onto the ground. He rolled and leapt to his feet as Buffy ran at him. Ducking a punch he took her around the middle and ran her back into a wall of gel. The gel sunk in with their weights, then bounced them back out. Both fell to the ground, rolling away from each other and springing back to their feet.

Angelus laughed. “Girl’s got some spunk to her now that her soul’s taken a vacation.” He put up his fists in a mock fight, jumping around like a boxer.

Buffy wasn’t amused. By the look on her face she wasn’t even affected by his words. They came together again in the middle of the room, ducking punches and avoiding kicks as they danced. With another leap she knocked Angelus to the floor, straddling him and pinning his arms down.

He giggled maniacally. “Ready for more?”

From the corner of her eye Buffy spotted the stake that Angelus had used to free her from the bubble lying on the ground. She rolled the both of them easily, landing next to it and snatching it up.

“Don’t think so!” Angelus cried and launched the Slayer up and off his body, knocking her backwards.

Buffy righted herself and whirled herself into a flurry of spinning kicks, forcing Angelus to back up. Finally he grabbed her spinning leg and yanked upwards, throwing Buffy’s body into the air. She settled onto the ground with a crash and Angelus grabbed her hair, pulling her across the room as she howled in pain.

“The cavemen had the right idea,” he muttered to her, ripping a lock from her head and holding it up. Buffy used the opportunity to free herself and scramble to her feet. “Mind if I keep this as a reminder of what we had?” he asked with mock sentimentality.

Buffy let out a guttural roar and held up the stake. “It’ll be your last, beast.”

“Separate!” Tara cried suddenly, flinging her arms out. Slayer and vampire were thrown to opposite sides of the room. “We’ve got to get them out of here,” she said, turning to Willow.

Willow nodded in agreement. “What the flying heck is going on? Buffy’s all…not-Buffy.”

“It’s the soul-extraction,” Tara guessed.

Willow shuddered. “She’s…like Faith with even less personality.”

“We’ll hold them here. Talk to them,” Tara decided.

Willow resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Right. Talking ought to settle it all between a vampire and a Slayer who don't have consciences.”

The girls took a deep breath and headed to the middle of the room. Buffy and Angelus jumped to their feet and ran to continue the fight when Willow held up a hand and murmured, “Hold.” The warriors froze, blocked from movement by magic.

“Witch!” Buffy cried, struggling. “What’s the problem?” She ticked her eyes to Angelus. “Vampire.” She pointed to herself, a slight movement allowed by the magic. “Slayer.”

“You can’t,” Willow began. “You can’t kill each other. We’re bringing you back to Sunnydale and we’re going to fix this.”

“I feel fine,” Buffy and Angel said simultaneously.

Willow and Tara exchanged a glance. “Yeah,” they breathed.

“But you’re not,” Tara told them. “I know you don’t realize it now, but you’re not. But we’ll fix you, we promise.”

“Don’t want fixing,” Buffy growled. “What I want is for you two to let me do my job. You’re my friends, right? So stop with the strong-hold and let me do it.”

“You can’t hold us forever,” Angelus told them as his face slid back to its human features.

“May-maybe not,” Tara stammered. “But we’re gonna try.”

The girls turned their backs to the couple. “What are we going to do?” Willow hissed.

Tara almost shrugged. “We’ll think of something. Maybe we can just keep them frozen and bring them back to The Planes.”

“I thought that only worked on--”

The room suddenly exploded with sound as demons flooded in from all sides. Creatures in robes. The Teplir.

“Uh oh,” Willow muttered. She and Tara turned slowly, realizing they were surrounded.

“Let us go!” Buffy called irritably.

When the onslaught of demons ended the wave of bodies was parted and the demons all fell to their knees. From down the center of the crowd entered a girl.

“Welcoming committee? Here with coupons for the local laundrymat and stuff?” Willow asked nervously.

The girl walked to them. She was…beautiful. Long chestnut hair fell down her back in cascades of curls. She donned a gold, shimmery gown and cape and had the palest skin either girl had ever seen, almost as pale as a vampire.

The girl observed Willow and Tara with disdain, and her eyes ticked to an immobilized Buffy and Angelus. “You are not welcome here,” she said, her voice somehow echoing in the well-padded room.

“Y-yeah…we sorta got that,” Willow told her, glancing at the throng of demons that were standing again, at the ready, weapons in what she realized were now visible hands.

“You infiltrated our dimension, to retrieve beings that came to us willingly. This is unacceptable,” the girl continued.

“Uh…that’s sorta skewing the logic there…Angel was pushed…” Willow told her but the girl held up a hand, silencing her.

“No matter.” Turning behind her she raised her hands and clapped twice. “Council!” she cried.

Several, taller demons stepped forward. Their robes were a dark green, and they were just as creepy looking. “Banish them and release her,” she said, pointing to Buffy. “The procedure is still unfinished.” Without a glance at the intended victim she gave the final order. “Kill the vampire. He is of no use to us now. Though I will get much energy from his soul.” Willow could have sworn she almost smiled at the thought.

“Who are you?” Willow cried.

The girl turned back to her, cocking an eyebrow haughtily. For a moment the witches thought she wouldn’t answer, but at the last second she seemed to change her mind. “I am Queen Saria. I am ruler here,” she said simply. “Go,” she ordered her troops.

“You’re messing with the wrong people,” Tara warned, low and angry as the army of demons began to advance on them.

Together the girls clasped hands and Tara shouted, “Mobileste!” Instantly the forces around Buffy and Angelus were lifted and they sprang to the fight to defend themselves. Still holding hands, Tara lifted Willow above the din for a better vantage point.

“Small spells. Push them back, we’ll escape down one of the back tunnels over there,” Willow instructed. Tara nodded and together they began flinging magic around the room, helping the now working together Buffy and Angelus. “Wow. Look at them go,” she murmured to Tara.

As well as the Slayer and the vampire fought alone, together it was an amazing sight. The flow, the instinct, the knowledge of each other, the awareness and timing. The thought seemed to occur to both Buffy and Angelus at the same time as they made eye contact over the body of a demon Buffy had just thrown to the ground. Judging by the expressions on their faces, a mixture of shock and disgust at having to work together to save both their hides, they weren’t pleased. But there was no time for clever banter or natural grudges between a Slayer and a vampire. They were here to live. Killing each other could wait.

A Slayer, a skilled vampire, and two witches proved to be more formidable than it sounded and the Queen was obviously not happy. She ordered her Council to direct more firepower to the witches, but the combination of Willow and Tara working together enabled a force field around them, diverting any magical efforts thrown in their direction.

The battle beneath the floating witches raged as Buffy and Angel ducked and punched, kicked and dove, tackled and delivered death to the Teplir, who, while large in number, were not skilled fighters.

More quickly than she expected, the Queen found her army retreating to the corners of the room, backing out of the fight. In the middle stood a triumphant Buffy and Angelus.

“So you want me dead, is that it?” Angelus asked, a bit of his brogue sneaking out.

“Join the club,” Buffy shot at Saria.

“You—no. This isn’t possible,” she stammered, now looking far less superior than she had before.

“’Fraid so, goldie,” Buffy retorted, as she and Angelus began to cross the room, heading directly for her, murder in both their eyes.

“I smell human blood. And I haven’t had a snack in quite a while. Was jonesing for some Slayer blood, but yours ought to do,” Angelus snarled.

Willow and Tara touched ground. “She’s human?” Willow asked.

Chapter Fourteen: Dead Inside
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