In which we retrieve a witch or two.

[can_we_rest_now]

Who: Illyria and Spike, later Wes by phone.
What: Figuring out how to get Willow and Tara back from whenever they are.
Where: The Deeper Well
When: Directly after this thread.
Status: Complete.

Comments

[godking_no_more]

Spike's muttered comments were enough to destroy the last bit of her patience, and her concentration. Sweating, and shaking a little from the exertion of trying to keep a power that she no longer had control of, under control, she finally released her grip on Spike and opened her eyes.

It took a millisecond for the frown of irritation to crease her brow, and she managed to keep from swinging at the half breed by sheer force of will alone. Spike's presence was more irritating than usual- or maybe it was more that she was frustrated and angry. This should have been simple. She should have been able to tread through the waves of time and simply snag up the witches and pull them back through the time stream with her. But simply glancing back through time was hard, and left her weak and angry. Honestly, without the simple contact with that Spike had provided, there was the chance that Illyria herself would have slipped uncontrolled through time and been lost herself. It was terrifying to think of.

So, with nothing less than hatred and rage in her eyes- (some of it directed to the flippant vampire, but most of it simply the reaction to her failure and inability to control what was once her own power) Illyria was forced to put her weakness in words. "I can not do it. I could not find them on my own. Your wasted time is just that. Wasted. "

A person, or someone that had a better grasp of the human condition and emotions might have apologized for the failure, and for a moment, Illyria considered it. After all, it is what a human would do. They would apologize, even if they didn't mean it. But since Spike had been less than useful other than to be a complaining, physical presence, and wasn't exactly offering up any suggestions of his own on what to do to return the Witches, Illyria figured the nicety would have been wasted. "Perhaps you might be useful and make a suggestion, since mine has been deemed a failure? "

[can_we_rest_now]

Spike returned Illyria's spiteful glare with a dispassionate one of his own. Wasted time. Fantastic. Willow and Tara were off cavorting through different time zones, and he was stuck here holding hands with Blue like they were preschoolers or something. Droppping her hand, he looked towards the spot where he had last seen the missing pair. They had lost comrades before, but they had never actually... you know... lost them.

He didn't notice Illyria's failure to apologize, since the very idea of her saying the word "sorry" seemed utterly foreign to him. He was content to see her as just another old demon, stuck in a shell that was inconvenient for all of them. The more human she became, the more he was reminded of what Wesley and the others had lost upon her arrival. The more he remembered what he had lost, as well.

"You're starting to recognize your own actions as failures," he noted, still not looking at her. "You're going soft, 'lyri." He turned then, not because he had a plan or because he wanted to see her, but because he didn't trust that she wouldn't try to strike out at him in her own aggravation. It wouldn't be the first time, after all, and he simply didn't feel like getting himself knocked about right now.

After he was sure that any risk had passed, he looked down again as he continued to think. "I'm the dashingly good-looking brawler. The lightbulb shines every once in a while, but I'm not so full of myself to think that I'm the brains of the operation." Upon mentioning the "brains of the operation," Spike looked up at her once again.

"Rupes or Wes," he stated. "They get their jollies by shoving their noses into books; if they can't figure out how to fix a little time displacement, then they've been faking it all these years."

[godking_no_more]

She wasn't stupid. Or blind. They all looked at her like she was just another demon. Funny, that she was the demon. The rest of them were mere pale shadows of her race. But then, so was she. At least anymore. Most of the time, she merely ignored the pained expression that they all STILL wore, after all this time. But, it was irritating. Yes, she had killed Winifred Burkle. Yes, she wore her form. But they had managed to get her back for a while, or at least that's what Wes had told her. It wasn't her fault that she had died, again. Sometimes, she wanted to scream at them all. To simply destroy them all.

At least it would stop the accusing looks.

Did none of them ever get over anything? Did none of these sad human things ever move on? She felt Spike's revulsion at her touch, and even her presence. Normally, she would have been amused by his reaction. His utter disgust. But now, in the face of her failure, it was annoying. Illyria rolled her eyes, and again, thought about hitting the half breed. It might make her feel better, but he was expecting it. Better to take him by surprise.

Regardless, the vampire had a good idea. No sense in confusing him by striking him for having a good idea. It might knock the momentary sense out of him. "Do you have a way to contact either of them? Perhaps speaking with Wesley would be more prudent. The other old man, Giles, he is fond of the witches. He may simply attempt to have me destroyed for losing the witches. I'd hate to have to kill them all for attacking me. "

[can_we_rest_now]

He noted the roll of Illyria's eyes, but said nothing. She was frustrated, of course. She was warped and not exactly the most pleasant company to have around, especially not when standing at the resting place of scores of Old Ones, and she hadn't even managed to be helpful. Did that bother her, on some level? Though he found it to be an unsettling thought, Spike found that she really was going soft, in a way.

With a smirk, he told her, "I wouldn't mind watching you and old Rupert go at it, but he's got his uses, so complete obliteration probably wouldn't serve us so well." Thinking on it for a moment, he remembered that Wesley had been the one who had managed to de-power Illyria way back when she first appeared and was slipping in and out of the stream of time. Logic would dictate that perhaps he had a bit of knowledge about temporal matters, and that knowledge would be mighty useful.

"Got a mobile on me somewheres," he muttered, reaching around his jacket pockets. Angel had been the one to instil the idea that it would be useful to remain en communicado with those you work with, but Spike couldn't remember if he had actually taken it to mind to program more than a handful of phone numbers in it... or even if he had brought the blasted thing with him.

Realizing something, he stopped his search and added, "Something tells me that we're not like to get much in the way of a wireless signal down here, though. Let's get to walking and hope we can stumble upon a bit of clearer air or a quaint little payphone instead. I miss those." Finally withdrawing the last of his cigarettes, he began walking and wryly told Illyria, "Hope you've got plenty in the way of coinage for a call to the States."

[godking_no_more]

Illyria watched Spike search his pockets for the mobile-thing, choosing to remain silent on the previous comment. She disliked the idea of having to destroy the keeper of the Slayer army. Not because she feared them, but because she hated the thought of needlessly destroying an army that could be used to her advantage later.

As the half breed kept his own council in search of his..mobile. Whatever it was, she merely watched him, her mind replaying the last hour of events. Perhaps if she retraced her steps, she might remember something, some fluctuation of power that she had forgotten or missed...

But the half breed was speaking again. Words that made no sense to her. The technology that these humans relied so heavily upon weakened them. To be reliant on anything other than one's own strength made one easily weakened, and easier prey. But she kept her thought to herself, choosing instead to offer a snippish retort. "You speak words that have no meaning to me. But lead on. The sooner we retrieve the witches, the likelier they are to be in one piece. "

When he made the comment about payphones and coins, she merely stared at him. Being at the Deeper Well, she had opted out of her more human attire that she'd chosen to wear on the trip from the states. The jeans and t-shirt that she had worn on the plane had been replaced by the red leather armor...that had no pockets.

[can_we_rest_now]

Most of his words held little meaning for her, but Spike kept his mouth shut. He was not going to go head-to-head with Little Miss Demon Queen while there was the possibility of her randomly poofing him off into another time period. Being pulled into the past didn't suit him, as personal hygeine has come a long way as time evolved and he didn't care to have his senses assaulted by unwashed humans. As for the future, they might have laser blasters or some such thing over there, and that was just cheating.

"'Lead on,' she says," he murmured under his breath. "Look at that. Looks like ol' Blue might just have learned that she can still be big 'n mighty, even if she's forced to follow somebody. Or did the term just slip, love?"

When he turned his head to look at her, he finally noted her stare. "What?" Looking her over and deciding that he didn't know what she was silently going on about, he lit his cigarette with a procured match and muttered, "I know I cut a dashing figure and there's probably not another bloke around for miles, but I'm not that kind of boy. All right, maybe I am, but I still doubt that's reason enough to stare. It's impolite, you know."

Spike grimaced when he realized that his words almost echoed the sort of friendly repartee he'd have with Willow or Dawn or even Buffy. Considering everything that had happened between him and the Slayer, he didn't wholly consider that a good thing.

As soon as they had emerged from the Deeper Well, his hand found its way into his trouser pocket, where his cellular phone was nestled. Pulling it out, he continued walking as he surveyed the progress of the network bars. Shoddy as ever, but it was only modern technology. He couldn't expect it to be perfect.

Flipping through his contact list, he mumbled, "I hope I didn't put Wesley down as 'Bloody Ponce' or 'Infernal Ponce' or something like that. I never could keep the nicknames straight." At the end of his list, he was relieced to see Wesley's name show up as his very last contact.

"Well," he breathed as he called the number and hoped the phone would work. "I never thought I'd be glad to see his name show up on my property."

[watcher_pryce]

Preparing a spell of this magnitude took quite a lot of concentration. Preparing two spells of this magnitude took even more concentration. Part of Wesley was glad that Angel had gone up to the attic to-- stalk the girl next door. Even though it was slightly, well, creepy and annoying. It kept the vampire out of the library which suited Wesley just fine. Gunn hadn't arrived yet and Cordelia was on her way back from dropping Max off with Alexandra.

So concentration was the key. Even though Wesley knew he had all the ingredients. Had researched and memorized the spell to open the bloody portal to the dimension that law firm had hidden Cordelia - and Angel's - vision. Even though had also researched and memorized the spell to get the visions back into Cordelia. Trying not to think about the fact that he hadn't slept for more then four hours in weeks due to the nightmares that kept haunting him, Wesley mumbled one of the spells under his breath.

His concentration was strung like a bow. It was almost - and that wasn't a pleasant thought - like being back at his parental home. Right before his father would barge into the room and demand he cite the spell right now, from the top of his head. Except back at his parental home his pockets wouldn't vibrate. Nor would there be anyone singing that they were to sexy for their... something.

"Goddamnit, Gunn," Wesley muttered under his breath as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Oh he was going to have words with a certain demon hunter. Wesley concentration was completely shot and his mood went down a few notches. He frowned though when he saw the name on the display. "Blondie bear? Who is--" Wesley gritted his teeth. It would seem a certain demon hunter had been *very* bored the last time he was here. Bloody...

Shaking his head, Wesley pressed the green phone button and held the phone up to his ear. "Spike," he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. After everything they'd gone through together, he considered the other souled vampire his friend as well. "How's the vacation faring? Are you having... fun? "

[godking_no_more]

Spike's comments were even less amusing than usual. Though the urge to strike him was less. It happened often with the blond vampire. The more time she spent around him, the less irritating he was. It was as if her nerves adapted to his grating attempts at humor and wit. Plus, he was one of the few that occasionally could make the distinction between her, and the shell she wore.

"You would be the more informed party on what is considered polite and impolite." For a brief moment, blue lips twitched, almost as if she were attempting a smile, or at least a smirk. The expression faded quickly enough as Spike finally found his mobile and began punching at it. Illyria, despite herself, was fascinated by the device, and only barely kept from snagging it from the vampire's hands once Wesley's voice crept through it.

"Wesley! We have need of your knowledge. Something has gone wrong. My Power..." She trailed off, as she realized that she was inches from Spike's likely glaring face, and speaking almost directly in the vampire's ear. "You should speak with Wesley and inform him." Spoken, nearly as an order as she drifted back into her own personal space bubble.

[can_we_rest_now]

Spike would have a thing or two to say if he knew that he was being identified on Wesley's phone as "Blondie bear," but thankfully, he had enough to say about Wesley's seemingly genuine inquiry about "fun." Vacation. Right, just let Spike pour on the sunblock - SPF 10,000,000 - and knock back some pina coladas, and this would rank up there with the best getaways of the century.

Actually, given that they were less than a decade into the century, that probably wouldn't be all too far off.

"I'd say that this is about par for most of my holidays," Spike answered instead. He winced when Illyria's voice came through, attempting to give Wesley a rather harried run-through of their predicament. Casting a hostile glare in her direction, he proclaimed, "'scuse me, who's holding the bloody phone here?" He gave her his back and shrugged his shoulder, as though easing away a tired soreness from having to deal with the former goddess' temperament.

Regardless, he turned on his speakerphone, knowing that Illyria and Wesley may have to exchange words if they want to get their witches back anytime soon. With a deep though unnecessary breath, Spike lowered his voice as he told Wesley, "We've run into a bit of a snag here. It seems 'lyri got a jolt of some kind of mojo that temporarily brought back her initial powers. The good news is that it seems to have died off just as fast as it came back. The bad news is that it took the witches with them."

He paused for a moment before clarifying, "Willow and Tara have, to use the popular term, gone splitsville. We're thinking they pulled a Back to the Future. Point us in the right direction, brainiac. What now?"

[watcher_pryce]

Blinking at the sound of the other voice on the end of the line, Wesley - despite everything that had been going on - couldn't help but smile just a little bit. The way those two were around each other reminded him of how he and Cordelia used to fight. Bicker if you will. Wesley was rather certain that if he were to point this out to either Spike or Illyria, it'd be a tie as to who was going to hurt him first for insulting them.

Still, the way Illyria was more and more becoming part of their group was-- something he was going to have to deal with. If only she didn't walk around in a body that once belonged to Fred. Wesley had never really be angry with her once he'd gotten his insane mind rather more sane. After all, Illyria hadn't chosen-- Fred. In fact she made it quite clear from the start how much she despised this-- shell.

A human wasn't meant to have so much power as Illyria had. Just as a human wasn't mean to have the visions Cordelia had. This returning theme they had in their lives was starting to worry Wesley. Having rather crappy holidays seemed to be par for the course as well in their lives. Only this time two people he was rather fond of had gone missing.

Wesley frowned when he finally put two and two together. He didn't at all like what it added up to. Of course he should've realised that entering the deeper well might trigger some of Illyria's latent powers. The ones who had laid dormant and out of reach, just waiting for such a moment. "Bloody..." he muttered under his breath. He should've known!

"Can Illyria trace where they have gone?" Wesley asked, of course not at all understanding the 'Back to the Future' reference. "Her powers were not alone in opening portals to different times, but also different dimensions, Spike. I'm assuming you're no longer inside the Deeper Well?" He nodded as though this was obviously without waiting for Spike's reply. Not that Spike could see it at any rate. Between preparing to open a portal himself, getting Cordelia her visions back and now this? Wesley was starting to develop a headache of grand proportions.

[godking_no_more]

Illyria returned Spike's glare, and sniffed in derision at him. "I could take the phone from you physically. It would be simple. Like taking candy from a small child. " The muttered words were silenced and the glare faded quickly once Spike decided to share, and turn on the speaker phone.

For a moment, Wesley's voice echoing out loud confused her, and Illyria, like a child, reached out a hand to take the phone before drawing up short and thinking better of it. She needed to focus on the task at hand. Perhaps Spike would permit her to look at his communication device later. When Wesley phrased his question, Illyria nodded, before she realized that it was a futile expression. Instead, she answered verbally, and shot Spike a glare, just to keep him from interrupting with a snide comment about her slip up. "I know they are still in this dimension, I just do not know where...or rather, when. They have cycled back in time. That much I could gather, but then the power flared and I could no longer control it again. "

[can_we_rest_now]

Spike reacted to Illyria's words with little more than a roll of his eyes and small scoffing noise. If she wanted the phone the way a baby wanted a sweet, then that was her business. She could have her playtime after they get their playmates back from whenever she had poofed them off to.

"Heard it from the horse's mouth," Spike told Wesley after Illyria had her say. "And no, couldn't get much in the way of reception down there. Figured I'd pop up and get some air while I prod that brain of yours for something."

Though he was loath to show any kind of sentimentality in front of Illyria, he paused for a moment and lowered his voice. "Wes," he said sincerely. "Go through your books. Go through your computer. Hell, go look at the Discovery Channel if that's what it takes. We've got to get them back before something happens to them." As though explaining his feelings, his voice regained its hard edge as he added, "They're bloody useful, and I don't wanna have anybody yellin' at me because I let them get hurt, understand me?"

[watcher_pryce]

For a brief moment Wesley was alarmed to realize he didn't need to check on any books, computers or even the Discovery Channel as Spike suggested. Because he had it all in his mind. The amount of research he had done on Illyria while Fred had been in danger had been not enough. It was after the fact that he knew what and who Illyria was that the research had been enormous. To the point of obsessive. Alright, to the point of going insane considering the state he had been in back then.

A state he would be in now if there had been any chance of getting Fred back. Even the smallest chance. But Fred hadn't died due to magic, she hadn't died due to some being snatching her body and she hadn't died by being whisked away to some hell-dimension. There was no chance of ever getting her back, not in this lifetime or the next. Fred Burkle was gone and Wesley had to go on.

Willow and Tara, however, were not gone and most likely still very much alive. If Illyria, as she claimed, know they were still in this dimension and even know they had gone back in time? It should be able for her to track them back. Being so close to the Deeper Well might even enable her to open a portal and snatch them back. Wesley tried not to think of what might be happening to the two girls or even where they might be. The possibilities were endless.

He smiled slightly at Spike's pretend harsh words. "Still pretending to be the so called 'Big Bad', Spike?" He may not have gotten to know the man inside out during their stint together at Wolfram and Hart. But they had become friends and when you fight together in an end of the world battle? You get to know someone well enough to know when he was worried about the two missing girls because he *liked* them and not just because they are useful.

"Right. You will have to go back into the Deeper Well. Illyria was no doubt caught unexpected by the residue of the dormant 'Old Ones' Powers. She should be able to channel some of it to open a portal to where Willow and Tara have vanished. Illyria should know how to do it, but it'll be dangerous. Her-- host," and he had to swallow at that word,

"is not equipped to wield such power for long, so you'll have to hurry. You'll have to look for the source in the Well where the residue is the most powerful and use it. But be careful, both of you. If something goes wrong you'll both go the way of Tara and Willow. If you're lucky that is, if not..." his voice trailed off since Spike knew the worst case scenario, having been there when Illyria threatened to explode and take Los Angeles with her.

“I'd rather not explain to everyone not only that Tara and Willow are gone, but you and Illyria as well,” Wesley said, using Spike's tone of voice, even though *he* would miss them. “People will yell at me instead of you and we can't have that hmm?”

OOC: Think we can wrap this up in a post or two and start on the next round and get the girls back?

[godking_no_more]

When Wesley finished speaking, Illyria sighed. Sighing was one of her new favorite human expressions. It felt strange, but satisfying. They had a lot of work to do in the next few moments and she didn't want to waste any time. Mentally steeling herself, she yelled over Spike's shoulder. "Thank you for your insight Wesley. We will retrieve the Witches."

The words barely left her lips before she turned on a heel and strode back toward the opening of the Deeper Well. The first order of business was searching out the strongest fluctuations of power within. If she could grab hold of some of the stronger power residues, she'd have to draw on less of her own strength and in the end, it would cause her less pain to control the power. "Spike. Are you following? I have to find where my resting place was. The flow of energy should be stronger there."

With those words, she disappeared inside, leaving Spike alone with the phone and Wesley in his ear to catch up. For some reason, Illyria felt that if she could fix the problem she caused, perhaps it would go a ways to helping the others accept her. She couldn't give Winifred Burkle back to them, but she could prove that she was just as useful.

((OOC- Sounds good to me.))

[can_we_rest_now]

Spike said nothing in response to Wesley's jab about him pretending to be the big bad. He didn't need to. He acknowledged it as a jab, and he would have normally returned it with one of his own, but he just wasn't in the mood. He never much liked being in England after being turned, and being stuck there with Illyria while searching for a couple of time-displaced witches wasn't making him all too keen about being back in his jolly ol' homeland.

After Illyria said her piece, Spike spun around to see that she was already on her way. "Huh," he muttered thoughtfully. "Ol' Blue's in a hurry to glue her mess back together, it seems." Towards the speaker, he remarked, "Thanks Wes. With any luck, the lot of us will be back in the States and people can go about yelling at me in no time. It'll be like Beatlemania all over again." He flinched even as he mumbled, "God, that was an epically sour epoch in musical history."

As soon as he ended the call, he put the phone back in his pocket and hurried after Illyria. "Couldn't figure that out before?" Spike called as he sprinted after her.