Raksha awoke suddenly. She glanced at the clock that sat on the nightstand and realized only a few hours had passed. She rolled carefully out of bed so she did not disturb the vampire, who slept peacefully. < He looks so much like he used to, when he is asleep -- so innocent. Of course he never really was completely innocent, at least not after he met me. It was all down hill from there. >

She grinned ironically to herself. Abruptly, she shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts. It was better to leave the past in the past. Especially where William was concerned. She could never confuse William with Spike. It would only lead to madness, despite the fact that she cared for both of them. She loved William in a protective, innocent-first-love sort of way and she felt a strong, messed-up, really weird sort affection for Spike, which is what most demons feel toward their lovers.

She glanced around the room and saw their clothing scattered everywhere. A shirt had landed across the T. V., a coat was lying on the chair and the rest were goddess knew where. Her bra had even managed to get hung up on one of the ceiling fan blades.

Raksha sighed and started collecting their respective clothing. She folded Spike's clothing and put it in a pile on the table. She treated hers with less care, just throwing them into a corner.

< His clothes will need to be washed. > Raksha sighed. She hated washing clothes. < I don't want Angelus and Drusilla to smell me on him, when he provides the distraction. I'll have to get him to take a really, really good shower, too. But the first order of business is for *me* to take a shower. >

Raksha went to the closet and chose a new outfit. Baggy jeans and a way too big Nike shirt. < No use wearing good clothes when I go to the Laundry. > She headed in to the bathroom.

Spike awoke, about an hour before dawn, to the sound of chanting and the smell of incense. He looked around to find the source. The source, of course, was his beautiful newly re-aquired lover praying to her gods.

Raksha sat before a low table, a stool really, in the classic meditation position. On top of the stool were several small, intricate and very ancient carvings. The carvings were ones Spike recognized from his mortality. He had seen them in Raksha's room, when he *visited* her. There were also, what he guessed to be offerings, on the table. Assorted smoking incense cones, several crystals, precious oils and jewelry.

Raksha seemed oblivious to what was around her. She was focused intensely her chanting:

"Mistress of the world.
She of ten thousand names.
The consort of the Lord of the Abyss.
The maker of the sunrise and rulers.
The lady of Heaven and of the House of Fire.
The mother of Horus.
The lady of the Words of Power.
She who is greatly feared.
Isis, my goddess.
Protect me while I do your bidding.
Give me the strength to heal the heart of one of your chosen.
I am your humble servant."

Raksha stopped after that. She glanced at her watch and started to get up. She winced at the stiffness in her body. She had sat in one position for too long.

"Good morning," Spike greeted her.

"Only for you, Spike, is it morning," Raksha told him, without turning around. She grabbed a box and carefully started wrapping up the things that lay on the stool. "Some of us have been up doing things."

"Really, pet?" he asked, with faked skepticness.

"Really. I washed your clothes, talked with Giles and gathered all the things that I need for the spell. Then, I came back here, set up my alter and gave offerings to my gods," Raksha told him, irritated that he thought that she had done nothing. She turned around and walked over to where he was lying down. "You need to take a shower and get dressed. We need to be at the library in about forty-five minutes."

"Forty-five minutes, eh?" Spike asked, arching a brow. He grabbed one of her hands and pulled her down on top of him. "Just enough time, luv." He captured her mouth in a passionate kiss.

Raksha pulled back. "We don't have time. You have to take a shower, so Angelus or Drusilla doesn't smell me on you and then you need to get dressed. And I need to change." She got up and handed him his clothes. "There's soap and stuff in the bathroom."

Spike sighed and got up. He started toward the bathroom, but stopped. He turned around and grinned evilly. "You could join me..." he suggested.

Raksha grinned back. "Go!" she ordered.

Spike sighed again and obeyed. "You're no fun," he grumbled as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"Sure I am," Raksha told him with sass. "Now is just not the time for it."

Spike's only response was the sound of the shower being turned on.

Spike and Raksha walked to the school in a rather uncomfortable silence. Every time Spike had tried to talk to her she had only ignored him or answered him with as little words as necessary. Now she was just walking with her head down, looking at her feet.

Spike stopped and put an arm around her, stopping her, too. "Is something wrong, Raksha?" he asked.

His lover's head shot up. Spike always avoided using her name; it was a shock to hear her name on his lips. "I'm fine," she answered.

"Yeah... And we're human. Tell me what's wrong," Spike ordered, looking at her worried.

"So you can kiss my wounds and everything will be okay," Raksha snapped.

Spike took a stepped back and looked at her like she had grown two heads. Raksha saw his reaction and her anger faded. "Sorry. I'm... It's just bad thinking," she apologized.

"Bad thinkin'?" he asked, prepared to have his head bit off again.

Raksha sighed. She started walking and Spike, of course followed. "More like bad possibilities."

"Can't you give me more than a cryptic answer?" Spike asked, annoyed. "What!? You're truly immortal, luv. Have you forgotten that?" Spike asked her. He was quite surprised and a bit angered by her admission. If anyone was in danger of dying tonight it was him.

"Spike," Raksha said quietly. "I exist as long as my gods want me to. When I perform the ritual, I'm going to be putting myself at risk. I'm going to have to prove to Osiris, the god of the abyss, that I have a good reason to bring Angel back. Then, I might as well pray to Isis, Set doesn't get involved. He might decide that now is the time to get revenge on me. Angelus and you are his creations after all. The other gods probably will be unhappy at me for doing *their* work, except Isis and Hathor, of course."

"Why not those two?" Spike asked, alarmed that he might lose yet another lover.

"Isis is known to some as the goddess of true love and all acts of sensual pleasure belong to Hathor. To have Angel's soul taken by loving, is definitely not something they will smile upon," Raksha explained. "But they probably won't get involved. It is just as well."

"'Just as well'? What is that suppose to mean, luv?" Spike asked, barley containing his anger. She seemed like she wanted to die.

"My time has passed," Raksha responded, with the same unusual quietness she had been using the whole night. "I have lived a long life. I have repaired most of the damage done to my soul. I have had visions of dying, recently. Perhaps it is fitting that I will die so that another will have a chance to heal his soul."

Spike took a moment to digest that. Then he bellowed: "What about me? Are you just going to give up that easily?" He was surprised at the amount of rage the thought of her dying sparked inside him.

"This is not about me, Spike. This is not about you. This is about everything being the way it is supposed to be. This is about fate. Whatever is going to happen, will happen. There's nothing you, nor I, can do about it," Raksha told him, trying to soothe his anger.

The last thing she needed him to be was pissed off. They were almost to the library and she was sure that one of mortals would try to upset him. It was the boy's... Xander's nature to taunt people and try his limits. Of course, the bad thing about that is it is going to get him killed or seriously throttled one day. Hopefully today is not that day.

"You're bloody impossible!" Spike yelled. "Fine, do it your way. When your just about to die, don't come whining to me."

"I won't," Raksha told him.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to their destination. They slowly walked into the school. They walked even slower to the library. It was unspoken between them, but in some way they both knew they were walking to their doom.

"This is it." Raksha reached to open the library door.