"Giles?"
He looked up at Willow, pulling himself reluctantly out of the intense focus he'd fallen into.
"Oz and I are going out for something to eat. You want to come?"
He realized that the light levels coming through the library windows meant that late afternoon had arrived and for the most part passed on. "You two go ahead," he said. "I want to finish this section."
"We'll wait," Willow insisted. "Giles, you need to eat something."
"I-I will." He glanced out the window again, then over at Oz where he stood by the library doors. "Isn't tonight --?"
"That's why we need to eat now, so we can get Oz home and locked up before the moon comes up."
Giles set a thumb against his lips, considering. "How are you feeling now?"
She perked up. "As in, for another spell casting?"
"The full moon might help amplify the spell."
"Great!" Willow said. Then apparently thought that sounded too enthusiastic. She set her face into scholarly mode. "I mean, if you think it's worth a try, I'm game!"
"Go eat then, and get Oz settled for the night. I'll handle setup on this end."
"All right, but I'm bringing back food for you," Willow persisted. "If we're going to be spell casting, you need to eat something first."
"Yes, Mother," Giles said.
Willow grinned at him and hurried to get her bag.
Giles watched them go with a bemused fondness. He had to remember, he thought, that Willow was different from Buffy and would work best with a different mentoring style. While he sometimes had to lean rather harshly on Buffy to curb her natural boundless self-confidence (at least before Angel had turned), the same discouragement could cause needless anxieties in Willow.
"Damn," he whispered to the pile of books in front of him. Another thing he had to keep in mind: He was Buffy's Watcher. She had to be his primary focus, should be his only concern. Dividing his priorities like this was an invitation to disaster.
But his primary focus was gone now. Willow, he realized, was giving him something to hold on to, a reason for being. She was allowing him to feel useful again. It was a dangerous situation, and not only for Willow. If he were being conscientious, he'd stop this before it could take them any further down this road.
Instinctively however he needed his Slayer, and Willow was offering him the only thing he could actively do to bring Buffy back. Other of course, than to wait and wait, ineffectually hoping and trusting that she'd return any time soon.
Time to stop the second guessing, Giles thought. He shut the book in front of him and started to lay out the scrying setup. They might be making a terrible choice in taking this road, but he knew that he wasn't about to choose to backtrack now.
"We were thinking," Willow said as she sat on the library table watching Giles eat the roast beef sandwich she'd brought back for him, "that maybe Oz could try those meditation exercises too. Do you think that if he got 'centered' enough that he could be more in control on full moon nights?"
"Perhaps." He tasted the drink she'd brought and grimaced -- it was some highly sugared carbonated beverage -- but he forced himself to finish it. The sugar was a high energy, if otherwise useless, source of calories. "It's not likely. I suspect there are basic brain structure alterations that go with the lycanthropy. But it certainly couldn't hurt. And I may be mistaken. I don't think anybody's ever done a neurological study of the werewolf."
Willow's face darkened at the thought. "No. They just hunt them. Do you think that Cain guy is still --?"
Probably, thought Giles. "Hopefully Buffy convinced him that he was in the wrong trade. Perhaps he's taken up unicorn hunting instead."
"Cute little unicorns?" Willow scowled some more.
He shook his head in exasperation. He still had a scar across the lower ribs courtesy of the only unicorn he'd ever seen, and the only reason he'd survived that encounter was that he'd been a virgin at the time. "They're vanishingly rare," he reassured the girl. "Far rarer than werewolves. A hunter could go a lifetime without glimpsing one. Although one horn would set him up for life. Cain could decide that the potential pay-off was worth the odds." And with luck, he thought with a perverse humor, Cain might actually have the ill fortune to succeed in the hunt. Exit one pillock.
"Let's get to it then." He cleared away the wrappings from his meal and nodded to Willow to start lighting the candles. She set about her task with an endearing seriousness. He sat back to watch her, assessing her state of mind. It might be a mistake doing another scrying only twenty-four hours after the first; but then maybe he'd been overly cautious in not letting her try again the night before.
Willow lit the last candle and looked to him. "Giles? Is everything okay?"
He shook himself. "As well as can be expected, I suppose."
"You look tired. Maybe we should wait."
"No, I'm fine." Giles got up to help her complete the preparations. He'd left off the painkillers for a second night in a row, and apparently it showed. "Here, let's try it tonight with you facing the east window. As long as we've got a full moon, we might as well put it to good use."
She helped him arrange the paraphernalia, then sat down on her table. The moon shined in through the library window, dazzling in its brightness.
"Did you have a chance to read over the meditation books I gave you?"
"A little," Willow said.
"I'm going out for a few minutes. Try one of the simpler exercises while I'm gone." He touched her on the shoulder. "Don't start the spell without me," he said with a smile.
Willow tried to focus on her breathing, like the book said. Clear her mind of extraneous thought. The moon was way too bright however; she kept having to rub the tears from her eyes. She bent to hook her purse from the chair and fished around inside for her sunglasses. Hair fell into her face, and she impatiently shoved it back.
No sunglasses. She remembered now leaving them at Xander's house. Have to go back for them later, she thought. Then she thought about Xander and Cordelia. They'd been talking about going to the movies tonight. Willow wondered what they'd decided to see. She knew exactly what Xander would want to see. They'd eat popcorn, she guessed. Or maybe only Xander would. Cordelia would be so worried about blimping up that she wouldn't have any.
Her stomach growled. She'd had a big dinner, but she was hungry again.
Her shoulder scratched where her sweaty blouse stuck to it. Willow peeled it up and itched at the skin. Her hair fell in her face again, and she dug through her purse for a ribbon to tie it back out of the way.
The library door squeaked softly, and Giles walked back in.
"I can't seem to center," she told him worriedly. "I'm all hyper-sensitive tonight."
"Nerves?" he asked, seating himself on top of the next table over.
"No, just that I'm hot, scratchy, hungry, the moonlight's too bright, and I keep wondering what Xander and Cordelia are doing, and whether Oz is asleep or not." She sighed.
Giles didn't seem terribly concerned, much to her relief. "Yes well, meditation's a practice. Keep working with it."
"But should we --?"
"It's an uncomplicated spell, and we have the moon working in our favor. As long as you feel comfortable with it."
"Oh, yes!" Willow settled back into her cross-legged sit. "Same as last night?"
"Yes." He sat down in a chair. "Relax and go into it when you feel ready.
Willow nodded and shut her eyes, doing her best to center despite her state of 'scratchiness'. Finally she opened her eyes and began to chant. "Four quarters to where I Am --"
The air was thick with moonlight. Willow felt sluggish with it. The spell seemed reluctant; where the night before she'd sensed the power coming alive, tonight it seemed to fight her efforts to bring it out of dormancy. She struggled with it as she moved to the sacrifice of the hairs, but the mirror remained largely dark, shifting with only a few vague shadows. Biting at her lip, she leaned forward willing the images to coalesce.
The glass grudgingly cleared, and she saw a slender blond-headed figure walking along a dark roadside. Willow held onto the image, trying to sharpen it in her mind. If she could just hold on. . . Buffy had halted by what might be a mileage sign, seeming to study it for information.
And the image began to slip away.
"No!" Willow gritted her teeth and fought for it. "Focus, damn it!" But leaded down with moonlight, the vision continued to dissipate.
Moonlight. She had a sudden inspiration. "Open the Eye of the Moon!" she cried out. "Seek her where she stands!"
The surge of answering power was incredible. Willow felt it rip through her body like a bolt of lightning, and the entire world seemed to open up to her. For a single instant it was if she stood next to Buffy, could feel the warm night wind on her face, could hear the cricket hum in the background, could smell the sagebrush. Buffy turned towards her, blinking, and reached out. She felt her friend's warm hand light in hers. . .
The sound of the moonlight became a frenzied wail. It exploded up through her mind, filling every synapse with its terrifying beauty. Willow screamed.
And abruptly the light was torn away from her. In spite of the acute pain, she held desperately onto the light, sensing some imperative that kept her from throwing it away from herself and running.
The chant, do it now, it will help us get it back under control. Dimly she realized that the voice in her head was Giles, that he had stepped in and started the litany again, that she was to mirror him.
She struggled with the words for what seemed like an eternity, then gradually sensed the world of darkness filling in around her again. She was drifting back to the shore of sanity. Willow let the tide take her there, finally stepped to shore gasping for breath. She collapsed.
The light continued to flicker vaguely across her face. Willow forced her eyes open to confront it.
"Giles!" she screamed fearfully.
He'd stepped in to channel the powers she'd unleashed through himself, but for all his knowledge he was having no better luck controlling that wild magic than she had. The light surrounded him, seemed to be devouring him.
"No!" Willow whimpered, and moved towards him.
"STAY!" he managed to pant out. "The mirror. Break it."
Willow snatched the glass from the table. Seven years bad luck, she thought idiotically. Hope some of that's retroactive. She dashed it against the edge of the table.
Giles dropped to the floor like a string-cut puppet. Unable to find her balance, Willow fell hard against the floor immediately after him.
"Owww," she said. She'd given her head a good thump, same spot where she'd been injured several weeks back. "That's not good care and feeding of one's brain." Rubbing the aching spot, she crawled to her knees. "Oh no, Giles!"
He lay in an awkward heap. Shaking, Willow tried to locate a pulse and couldn't find it. Stupid, she thought. He was hyperventilating, of course he was alive. But for how long?
"What do I do? Giles?" Willow shook him, then got up and stumbled for the telephone in his office. "911 -- 911." She fumbled the receiver off the hook. What do I say is wrong? Is there an emergency procedure for magical shock?
The line, however, was dead. She slammed the receiver down and ran back into the library. "Giles?" she said, shaking him. "Stay there. I'm going to get help."
Willow ran weeping out into the dark hallway, and bumped straight into Xander. "Xander! Xander! I've killed Giles!" "You what?" Cordelia said, staring at her as if she'd gone mad.
Maybe I have gone mad, Willow though miserably. "I've
got to get some water!" She broke away and ran into the
Girls' Restroom.
"Come on," Xander said grimly, pulling Cordelia into the library.
Their Watcher lay on the floor, but as far as Xander could tell he had a fair ways to go before he was dead yet. On the other hand, he was obviously several degrees short of okay.
"Simple spell, huh?" Xander muttered. He pulled Giles to his side so he could breath easier. "Cordelia, get the blanket from his office."
"You gonna give him mouth-to-mouth?" Cordelia said, bending over them worriedly.
"Oh god, maybe I should." Xander hesitated. Not like this was a decision he particularly wanted to make.
Willow burst into the library with a glass of water in her hands.
"Put his legs up on some books," Cordelia suggested. "That'll get the blood flowing back to his brain."
"Good idea." Xander grabbed some books from the table and started shoving them under Giles' feet.
Willow dithered about, brushing the hair from the librarian's forehead, patting his cheeks. "How do I get him to drink the water?"
"Here," Cordelia took the glass from her hands. "The important thing is to get his body temperature down."
"No, no!" Xander said urgently. "Body temperature up! Get the blanket from his office, Willow!" She ran to obey.
"Giles?" Cordelia tried to pry an eyelid open. "Are you okay?"
"We've got to wake him up before he goes into a coma," Willow said as she threw the blanket over him.
"That's just for head injuries, I think," Cordelia said dubiously. But she poured the glass of water into his face.
Giles started coughing violently.
"You did it!" Willow cried. "Giles, are you all right?"
"I will be, if you'll please stop trying to revive me," Giles whispered hoarsely.
"Grateful for saving your life much?" Cordelia said, sitting back on her heels.
Willow started to weep again.
"Way to go, G-Man," Xander said disgustedly. He wrapped his arms around Willow and led her to a chair.
"You just stop it," Willow snarled between hiccuping sobs. She shoved Xander away. "This is all my fault."
"Yeah, well, the Watcher here was obviously doing more than he was supposed to." Xander bent down to glare at Giles. "Are we going to have to get a Watcher for our Watcher, G- Man?"
"I appreciate your concern, Xander," Giles muttered, "but bugger off. Willow, will you please stop crying?"
"Okay," she said meekly. She huddled in her chair looking miserable, shaking violently.
"Get my jacket from the chair over there and wrap her in it." Giles tried to push himself into a sitting position and promptly fell flat on the floor again.
"Are you going to be okay?" Cordelia said worriedly. "I mean, we don't need to call an ambulance or something, do we?"
"Table," Giles muttered indistinctly.
"What?! Xander, he's going delusional --"
"Oh," said Willow, still trying to stifle her sniffles. "Brandy. There's a thingy of brandy on the table over there." She dropped to her knees to wrap the blanket more closely around Giles, who was beginning to shake as hard as she was. She grasped his good hand in hers. "I'm so sorry, Giles."
"Let's get some light in here," Cordelia declared. "All this gloom is seriously wiggy." She went to the light switch, but the lights didn't respond.
Willow looked up. "The phone was out too."
Cordelia glanced out in the hallway. "The emergency lights are on. You think vampires cut the main power?"
Giles managed to sit up and accept the flask that Xander held out to him. "I suspect we may have short-circuited some things in the building during that spell," he admitted. His shaking had subsided, but he still seemed weak.
"Wow," Cordelia said, impressed. "You guys were doing some serious magicking then."
"Must've been an electromagnetic pulse --" Something occurred to Willow. "Oh, no!" She ran to the library computer.
"No power, Willow," Xander reminded her.
"Right." She pulled her own laptop from under the table and tried to boot it up from the batteries. "I think I might have just fried most of the computers in the building," she said sadly.
"Okay," Cordelia declared, "It's time to get out of here, before the night janitor reports to somebody with enough of a brain to put you guys and the outage together."
"Yes," Giles agreed. "Perhaps you're right." He seemed to be rapidly recovering from whatever shock he'd sustained and managed to pull himself to his feet with some help from Xander.
Willow started to stuff the spell casting things into a backpack. "What about the broken glass?"
Giles peered about vaguely. "Uhm, there's a dust pan and broom in my office." Xander nudged Cordelia, who made a face but went to get the items.
"And then can we go out for pizza or something?" Willow said as she zipped the bag up. "I'm starving to death."