Parallel by LilBit

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All the characters from BUFFY: THE VAMPIRE SLAYER are the property of Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy, Inc.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
Feedback: Of course. Please!
Spoilers: Post-Chosen.
Author's Notes: This story is a continuation of Alterations with Time – reading that story and its prequel, The Sacrifice, first are recommended.
Pairing: Willow/Kennedy

Power is not an all or nothing proposition. At times, it is the smallest in existence, the most worthless or weak that can be the turnkey to increased control or victory over another. Sometimes, power must be given up to reap it in return tenfold. This is true for all that seek total obedience, including Evil.

Power, though all enticing, must be metered accordingly. Only the truly dominant understand that some engagements are better left to others to wage. There are times when it is more fortuitous to give credence to an inferior, to allow an underling to do battle, and keep oneself on the sideline. Power can always be taken away from the weaker; that's one lesson quickly learned by the bully, especially Evil.

In the final battle at Sunnydale, the First was not vanquished from existence; it was not even really completely defeated. It had merely been depleted and crippled like a mighty battleship gutted open from enemy fire – out of commission, but not destroyed. The result of the destruction of Sunnydale was that the First had lost its army, its muscle and its hellmouth. But it had not lost its existence. Truth be told, Evil could never really be beaten and removed from the fiber of the universe. It was part of everything that was ever known to Man; it 'was' because the collective psyche of Man could never believe it could be otherwise.

During the time after the final battle with the newly infused slayers, the First, evil, or whatever other name attained the "flavor of the month" seal of approval, retreated to lick its wounds. It went from being a roaring fire to a smoldering ember. But it wasn't gone. Over time, it started to rebuild and slowly began the long journey for dominance once again.

This time, a new direction was taken. Where before, the righteous were fought head on, now alternate warriors were cast upon them. The First understood that it could not afford another defeat as before, so it decided, quite plainly, to let others do the fighting for it. By the incessant nibbling away of the power and strength of those on the side of Good, the First knew that it could gain even greater dominance. The beauty in the plan was that if the minion didn't succeed, then nothing was lost. However, if victory was snatched in the teeth of the sinister, then the First would be there to ruthlessly take the acquired power from its underling, as was its nature.

To play out its master plan, the First needed only to wait. For there were always lower forms of evil, be they demons, fallen gods or even mortals, that sought more infusion of the dark side in order to reek bloody hell on some other form. In the years after Sunnydale imploded that was exactly what happened. The good thing about being around forever was that the First had no need to rush or push anything or anyone. It took whatever opportunities presented themselves, whenever they appeared. It had taken an eternity for the evil presence to try 'outing' itself at Sunnydale; waiting another for a successful outcome was child's play.

And so, evil kept at bay waiting for the weak, the revengeful or even the ambitious to seek out its power to assist in bringing down a small piece of good in the world.

By the end of May, 'summer' had already descended upon southern Florida. The temperatures were hitting 90° and the dense humidity was clinging to the air. The rainy season hadn't taken hold yet, so the hot clammy weather wasn't even mellowed by thundering afternoon showers. The lack of precipitation also meant that the Everglades was still in its dry cycle. It would be weeks before the pockets of murky water gave way to the free flowing shallow "River of Grass". Wildlife, mammals and reptiles still clung to small areas with pools of sustenance.

One such pool surrounded the old shack inhabited by the figure of a thing once a prisoner to his own limitations. The subject that survived in the death and bile of the glades' killing fields was nothing like his former shell. His once weak and powerless body had been revitalized. He had cut a deal with Evil.

"It's working…they're falling apart…each one is losing her way…" The words sputtered out of a mouth crippled and disfigured. The inhabitant of the shack had been watching the spiral descents of Kennedy and Willow. It was he that caused them. The man stood looking out a crack between the boards of his make shift home. "I have the power…I can do this…the time is almost here…" The whisper was said to the darkness outside.

The tormentor of the witch and slayer was what once could have passed for a man. But that title could no longer be used to describe what he was now on so many levels. His appearance was such that he could not be seen during daylight hours. Even in the blackest of night, he still walked about sparingly, only when absolutely necessary.

The night of Willow's vanishing was such a night. The enemy of the lovers was at the grassy area for a purpose; it was the start of the plan; the most important part. Other than that shadowy presence, the man had kept abreast of the couple's separate agonies through his enhanced powers. His sanctuary in the marshy plains of the Everglades contained his looking glass – his cast iron kettle. With it, he could see through space, time and dimensions. "…and it only cost me my everlasting soul…"

The man, once weak and powerless, had summoned up the strength to meet the First for a bartering. The man didn't know he was in the presence of the First; he merely thought he had found an almighty demon that possessed the ability to give power to the powerless, for a price. The man was willing to give his life, his heart…his soul, to receive the gift of enhanced abilities. For the man had a mission, and to bring down his foes, he needed much more mystical attributes than he had, than he had ever had.

So a trade was made and unbeknownst to the man, he had become but a bitch to the First. It would be his job to defeat whatever good he had as a target. The secret not known to the man was that he was in actuality but another small piece in Evil's universal puzzle to gain control again.

The inhabitant of the shack was given enormous evil powers. He became proficient at spells; he could bend the will and time. Altering reality, dimensional boomeranging and spatial interference were his strongest gifts. And use them, he did.

The tormentor was able to deaden the slayer in her tracks, make a demon do its bidding and pull the witch into a parallel dimension, one that he set in motion. He had been able, over the course of months, to make the witch and slayer behave like puppets. He pulled at their lives, their psyches with invisibles strings of despair, loss and longing. He watched through the murky liquid glass of his caldron as each woman slowly lost the very things that had made them so powerful together, their love and belief that they were to be together forever. He watched as each inched their way into turmoil, getting emotionally weaker and mentally less attuned. Their complete fall into desperation, the utter weakening of their spirits, was his ultimate goal.

As he walked to the shambled door of the building, the man regarded his affects on the slayer. He remembered how frantic and angry she was at first when the witch was taken from her. He sensed through his looking glass how she denied any sorrowful ending and kept only the thought of her love returning in her mind. Then the brunette left and the tormentor used his powers to sense her dealings while in Cleveland. He could feel the discord and rebellion in her, the incessant desire to leave friends and family behind to return to the scene of her lover's passing. The inhabitant didn't need to use his powers to know she returned; he felt her presence like a giant wave crashing upon the shore.

Since her return, he occasionally lurked around in the night's shadows, seeing but not following the slayer. He watched her slowly dip into despair, glimpsed her pathetic attempts to stay detached enough to keep to her message. He had never let her get too close to the truth; just a touch on the fringes once in a while. Enough to make her strive for more, and to become more despondent when she came up empty handed. The deformed figure of a man reveled in the demise of the slayer.

His master workmanship was not reaped only upon the brunette. He had thrown the witch into a figurative version of hell possibly worse than anything that could be imagined as being real. Willow was completely alone. The one thing she had never experienced had been forced upon her. The redhead was seeped in the silence and desolateness of utter abandonment. He muted her powers; took her slayer from her. The man stole everything from her that gave her strength.

The torturer watched as the witch struggled for balance; he saw her lapse into the darker side of herself, the one that had almost toppled the world. She had nothing, could do nothing…she was nothing. He had kept her off balance by using her own psyche against her. The man was able to affect a spell on Willow that took hold only sparingly, and even then, the witch instigated the change. The spell was more like a randomly sent pulse to the witch's mind. Once there, it mingled with her thoughts, desires and fears to produce a change in reality. The marvelous part about the whole thing was that even the tormentor didn't know what would shift. Sometimes, it was just the creatures tracking the redhead down. But, it also caused an alteration in her physical location, too. That particular glitch brought weeks of pleasure to the horrible excuse of a man.

As with the slayer, he kept an eye on Willow through his power to see through dimensions. His lead pot was the peep hole to the witch's horror of an existence. And the man exalted in it.

"It won't be long now…they'll come to know my presence and they will tremble before me…they will call out my name as they die…"

In the shack, the man stood. In different times, earlier times, he may have been ignored, passing as nothing unusual or special in the hurried pace of the world. But now, just a misplaced glance would cause the blood to run cold in a stranger's veins. Now, the man was hideous to any observer. His hair was thin and matted. It flourished mainly on the left side; the right having given ground to a large ugly scar that remained after his scalp was peeled back to repair damage done earlier. The scar ran along the right side of his head from front to back, starting in front of his ear, then over and ending at the base of the skull. It was a hideous arching disfigurement.

But it was appealing when compared to his face. The man had but one eye for viewing. The left had been removed and the eyelid sown together. The empty space behind was evident from the hollowed look that remained. The skin around the missing sphere was blackened like a fighter's lost battle that never healed. The other eye could hardly be named as such. The lid barely opened. Underneath was a black pupil surrounded by a sea of bloody white tissue. A mucous like substance continually dripped from one corner.

Those insidious eyes led to a twisted and broken nose and cheekbones covered in grafted skin that hadn't fully taken. The nose hissed with every breath. The mouth was in good company with the rest of the features. The jaw was misaligned causing it to jut out to the right. Lips were cracked and festered from the inability to close properly. Teeth, those that still remained, were yellowed and decaying from the man's failure, and lack of desire, to clean them.

His body had also taken a toll from the inability to give it proper nutrition. His need to keep hidden and little physical activity had atrophied many of his muscles. The man hunched over and walked with the hitched stride of legs saddled with dwindling muscle mass. His skin, what could be seen, was white and had an almost transparent quality to it, like one could see the inner workings of the man.

His clothes were black, color had gone the way of his soul, and stained with dirt and sweat…and blood. His only friends in the swamp were the predators and buzzards. There was nothing mistaking this pretext of a human as being anything but filled with evil.

Seeing the inhabitant of the shack would have made any person instantly believe in monsters. What he lost in appearance, though, he gained with the infusion into him of mystical powers beyond his wildest dreams. Trading away his useless soul to carry out his plan to remove Willow and Kennedy from existence was the best deal he ever made.

When he looked into his liquid window one more time, the brash confidence he'd felt before faltered.

"W-what…is this?…no…they can't be getting stronger…it's not possible…" The man knew he had to act.

The night of Willow's epiphany about her disappearance, the witch slept with complete abandon. She lulled herself to sleep with memories of the treasures of her life with Kennedy that she held so dear. She remembered their initial meeting at Buffy's, her hesitation at letting the woman in her heart. She thought about the few days after the sinking of Sunnydale when Kennedy offered up her life to save the redhead from the death pull of the universe seeking balance after her slayer spell.

She was still half awake when her thoughts glided through their time in Brazil and the happiness and sorrow they experienced. With all the memories, there was one overshadowing theme throughout it all. They had gotten through everything together. They lived, cried and laughed as lovers and equals.

As she fell into sleep, Willow saw how miraculous her life with Kennedy had been and once asleep, her mind continued on its voyage of their life together.

Willow was in a dream world, watching the last two years with Kennedy drift by her eyes. It was like she was watching home movies of the highlights of their life; but not so much looking as if on a screen but instead as if she was a fly on the wall.

"Baby…this place is great!" Willow was ecstatic about their room at the Hotel Orleans located in the middle of the French Quarter in New Orleans.

"Hey, nothing's too good for my college graduate…oh, excuse me…my summa cum laude college graduate." Kennedy's graduation present to her redhead was a long weekend in the 'Big Easy.' "Even better…they say this place is haunted…so if you're lucky, you can talk to someone from the great beyond…great work experience."

Willow graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in biology and a minor in psychology. She had always loved science and her magick had given her a thirst for a better understanding of the organic workings of the mind along with its psychological aspects. It didn't take long after she started sending out resumes mid way through her final semester that the woman began getting job interviews. Willow ended up taking a research job at a privately funded R & D company that specialized in research of brain based diseases and disorders which included paranormal brain activity. A little part of Willow wondered if she took the job because Buffy's mom had died as the result of a brain tumor.

The job entailed using her love of working with chemicals and compounds, her computer skills and her knowledge of the intricacies of the human mind. In addition, Willow was convinced that not all problems people had that were blamed on a faulty brain were actually such. Willow had seen the working of demons and other evil on the human race enough to know that demonic explanations could just as easily be appropriate.

Willow stood in the quaint hotel room; college was over and she had a job that didn't start for another three weeks. The redhead had gotten two monkeys off her back and all she wanted to do now was celebrate with her girlfriend. Willow walked over to Kennedy and hugged her. "I don't want to talk to anyone but the living and only if they're telling me where the best Hurricane drink is." Willow knew how lucky she was to share her life with Kennedy. The girl was a whirlwind and she had made the redhead an eager participant to their many adventures.

Willow's dream movie fast forwarded and the scenes sped by. The two went to Café du Monde for beignets and chicory coffee. "This tastes like shit…" Kennedy would stick to good old Columbian dark roast.

Then fast forward to them walking around Jackson Square, looking at the artists' fare, the jugglers and the tarot card readers. "Puh-leaze!…any half baked witch can do better than these people…" Willow had to keep herself from exposing the "seers" for the charlatans that they really were.

The next scene was a stroll down the famous Bourbon Street; the pedestrian throughway filled with hordes of people all striving to have the time of their lives. Every inch of the way there was music in the air, sounds from one tightly packed club melding into and then giving way to those of the next establishment. There was music and dancing for everyone. It was one big party and the lovers joined in.

The dream scene focused in on their first night there. The women were walking down Bourbon with the rest of the party goers. In a matter of a few hours, they had already listened to requests for them to "Show us your tits!" from about a dozen horny guys. On the last request, Willow saw her slayer get frustrated; she got uneasy when Kennedy turned and stared at the men who had yelled the statement from a table at a balcony restaurant. Then Kennedy turned back to her redhead and suddenly grabbed her behind the neck, pulled her in and started a long, deep kiss. When done, the brunette stepped back, and winked as she gave Willow a small smirk. Then the slayer turned around to the men, who were gawking, and simply said loudly, "If I was gonna show my tits…do you really think I'd show 'em to you needle-dick assholes?" Kennedy then took Willow by the hand and they continued their stroll.

The scenes continued. The lovers did their best to "laissez le bon temps roule" for the four days they were in New Orleans. They partied; they drank and danced until the early hours. After, they'd go back to their hotel room and make love until exhaustion kicked in. Willow hadn't slowed in her hunger for Kennedy's body. Their little escape from their normal life only made the redhead more wanting of her girl's beautiful bronzed form. Then they'd sleep in until around noon.

Once up and out of bed, the couple's hunger driven by their nocturnal activities would be satiated with differing offerings of the area's finest cuisine. Although they didn't go there for that reason, the couple soon found that New Orleans had some of the best food they'd ever tasted. Once fed, there was sightseeing until it was time to start the city wide party once again. It was a wonderful, wild four days.

The dream world, having satisfied the witch's mind with that memory, then melted into another scene. This one consisted of both women carrying boxes into an empty room.

"Where do you want these, Will?" Kennedy was holding two very large and full cardboard boxes.

"Those are my books, so put them by Tigger." Willow pointed to the bookcase Miguel had given to her for her birthday while in Brazil. The canarywood grain of which the piece was made reminded them of tiger stripes, even if it wasn't the right color. The only such animal they knew was the beloved Tigger. It seemed an appropriate name.

Kennedy put the boxes down and went to her girl. "You know there are still about a hundred more of those boxes that I have to haul in…If you get any more books, we'll have to move again."

Willow hugged her slayer. "First…there's only seven more boxes…Second…what about all your weapons?…" Willow put her hand over her girlfriend's mouth as she started to protest. "…Third…I plan on rewarding you for all your hard work." When she ended her sentence, Willow took her hand away from the girl's mouth and replaced it her own lips.

After a nice gentle kiss, the lovers parted. "That's a little preview…rated G…but I promise, the feature presentation will definitely be R."

Kennedy gave Willow a big smile. "If this is what I get when we move, let's do it at all the time."

The dream lingered on the scenes of her and Kennedy's rented condo that they moved into in the spring of 2004. The place was townhouse style in an upscale part of Cleveland. They were next to wonderful restaurants and interesting boutique stores. Slayer Central was only half an hour away. The couple was actually now closer to Xander who had just bought a house.

The apartment was the result of the need for further privacy and space than they could get, as desired, at the slayer house. "It's not that I don't like it here, Willow…I just think we need more room…and I kinda miss the way things were in Brazil…"

Moving had been Kennedy's idea initially, but Willow couldn't deny that the thought of it had been hiding in the back of her mind for a while. She didn't want to hurt Buffy. She liked living with her, always had. But, things were different now. The redhead had Kennedy; and she wanted that together feeling they had in Sao Paulo. She liked the idea of being able to see her brunette walk around the house naked – something that had been relegated solely to their bedroom. She liked the thought of being able to snuggle on the couch, or more, without worrying about preying teenager eyes. Mostly, Willow wanted this next step with Kennedy. There was a desire pulling within the redhead to make a home with the brunette. She loved the woman and wanted to share everything with her. The idea of coming home to her slayer, and only her slayer, after a hard day at work made the witch feel content. So they moved.

Kennedy insisted that they get a decent place. "Kenne, baby…your idea of 'decent' is a little skewed." Willow smiled as she looked at the dumbfounded face on her girlfriend. The witch still had times when she couldn't get used to Kennedy's money. The redhead figured she'd probably always have some reaction to the situation. Though Kennedy didn't act rich, she could certainly live it when she wanted to.

As Willow scanned the condo, she thought about the things that made Kennedy's stubbornness for quality kick in. "Cars, house, jewelry…" Willow remembered the girl saying. Kennedy had good taste, expensive taste, when it came to those things. But the brunette wasn't insistent in other areas. In fact, Willow knew Kennedy purposefully tried to keep her rich upbringing lifestyle out of their life. So, the witch didn't begrudge Kennedy her indulgences. If she were being honest, Willow would have admitted that she did like as much of "the rich life" as they had.

The dream started to go by faster. Willow saw their vacation to Brazil to visit Kennedy's mother. The wonderful time they had getting to know the woman better and learning about the ancestry of Kennedy's family.

The dream then took her to their camping trip in Michigan. Willow was hesitant. "Kenne…I've never done this…my family wasn't exactly the outdoorsy type." Kennedy smiled as she put up their tent.

"Don't worry, babe…it'll be fun…Thomas made me do this a bunch of times…if it weren't for him, I'd probably think camping meant staying at a one star hotel." Willow saw a warm smile on her slayer's face when the watcher's name was said.

After the tent was up and they'd made s'mores over an open fire, the couple laid down on their sleeping blanket inside the tent. The mesh forming the very crest of their temporary home let them see the stars in the night sky above.

"…Not a cloud in the sky…look at all those stars…" Willow felt a calm come over her.

Willow then took her slayer's hand in hers and entwined their fingers. The witch turned to face her brunette. "I love you, Kennedy…I always want us to be this close…like we are now."

Then the dream jumped to a picture of a baffled Kennedy in just her underwear outside their tent later that night ready to slay a raccoon that the slayer was sure had been a vampire.

The picture then jumped to Willow's skiing outing in Colorado and the two of them making love in front of their cabin's roaring fire.

Dream land didn't stop there. There were short stops at the disagreements the couple had had over the last several years. The arguments were few; they usually dealt with one feeling overloaded with responsibility and being taken for granted. As it always turned out, the sentiment was shared by both but each neglected to talk to the other. Loud voices would turn to restrained discussion which inevitably led to both of them sitting at the kitchen table talking about their respective issues. Once they actually took the time to sit and talk to each other, they'd discover things were usually a matter of miscommunication rather than a real problem. After a while, the two would end their fight and begin the "making-up" closeness. They resolved never to go to bed with an unresolved argument, even if that meant staying up until the early hours and being late for work or class the next day.

As Willow's mind studied the times of disagreements with Kennedy one thought lingered over those scenes. There was never a fight that had the redhead concerned for their relationship. Even if they stormed off into other rooms, Willow never feared their connection had weakened or would break. The disagreements were seen as the unavoidable occurrences when two people were together long enough. Willow's maturity made her understand that people have moods and couples disagree at times. She no longer held that stifling mindset that fighting meant the end of a relationship. Regardless of how mad or frustrated she got at Kennedy, she knew she loved the woman and they would continue just as strong. That made Willow feel good.

Willow's dream sequences slowed and steadied with a scene of her and Kennedy in South Beach, standing next to each other gazing out at the expanse of the wide blue ocean. The witch felt happy and safe…and loved. Her mind just lingered there.

In her night of subtle reaffirmation, Kennedy too let herself dream of Willow. Vague recollection of Buffy in her room quickly gave way to the flood of memories as she fell asleep. For once, Kennedy welcomed the dreams.

"Will…this is like the best party town in the U.S.…clubs everywhere…they even got these kinky sex shops…" Kennedy raised an eyebrow to her witch. The slayer could have cared less about them, but she wanted to see her redhead squirm.

"Uh…well…ah…we…could go…in one…" The look of utter nervousness was plastered on the witch's face. Kennedy started to laugh.

"Don't worry…no sex shops…too much to do here in 'N'orlins'," Kennedy tried to give the word her best Cajun accent. "I did book us for Sunday brunch at the 'House of Blues' though…so if you change your mind, we can always repent."

Willow smiled. "Jewish, remember?…we repent one day a year…and it won't be during my graduation vacation."

Kennedy's dream world then forwarded to the fun they had in New Orleans. It stuck on the scene with the obnoxious men. As Kennedy pulled Willow in for a kiss, she could see the surprise in the witch's eyes. The brunette felt hesitancy at first; then relaxation as Willow returned the kiss as strongly as it was given. When done, Kennedy winked and smiled at her redhead. She knew Willow had enjoyed their very public display of emotion. It was the redhead's little revolt to the straight world; her way of being bold in a sea of heterosexual strangers. Kennedy was proud that her girl understood the importance of that act.

The dream sped up and they were in a cemetery fighting two vampires. Kennedy had her demon pinned and she thrust her stake into its chest. Instead of going to Willow and assisting her with the second vamp, Kennedy sat back and watched her partner. It was one of the few times since Willow started her job that the two had had a chance to patrol alone. 'I kinda miss this,' the slayer thought. Though she never wanted to see her girl get hurt, there was something about watching Willow systematically wear down then kill a demon that sent the slayer's blood boiling. Kennedy watched the concentrated look on her witch's face; the way her brows crinkled and eyelids narrowed. The brunette could almost see the wheels turning in the witch's brain as she carried out her planned attack. Kennedy could barely keep her hands off Willow after the deed was done; it was all they could do to make it back to the car. Once there, the rush overpowered them and the slayer took her girl right there. They didn't talk; their searing eyes and labored breaths said everything.

The dream sequence fast forwarded yet again. This time, the lovers sat nestled together on a couch in front of the tv. They were both in pajamas and outside the window the snow was blistering.

"Looks like it's gonna snow all night." Willow wiggled her toes so they were pushed farther under Kennedy's bent legs.

"Yeah…the weather guy before said up to two feet…you don't think you'll have to go in?…they already closed the college."

"I don't have to anyway…that project I was doing is over and Celia's thing I can do from home."

Kennedy looked at Willow. "That's good…I like that your job is so flexible now…I know you were getting frustrated not being able to work on your magick as much."

"This new position will be so much better…more research…more working from home…more time with you…" Willow said the last part seductively.

The slayer's dream mind hovered on this night. The flash of a moment among many in the two years since the return from Brazil. But this memory was filled with warmth. It was just Kennedy and Willow, in their apartment, living an ordinary life together. No demons, no apocalypses and no worries other than the dirty dishes in the sink and the trash that had to be emptied. Kennedy was completely content.

After lingering, Kennedy's dream mind was off again, faster as the scenes sped by. There was the trip to see her mother. The gladness she felt to have her mother in her life. The weather was perfect and the three had a wonderful time. The next scene was picnics in their favorite park, then skiing in Boulder, Colorado. Kennedy watched as her wisp of a redhead tried to master the art of standing up on a pair of skies. As many times as she fell, the witch always tried again. Kennedy remembered the snow ball fight which ended with a frantic Willow trying to get two very big and wet clumps of snow out from under her shirt. Kennedy couldn't tell if her girl's face was as red as it was from the cold or the embarrassment from having to shove her hand down her top in front of a bunch of strangers.

The dream movie sprinted forward to the camping trip. The lovers reaffirmed their life long bond during the first night of that outing. In the wilderness with only each other, the witch and the slayer were as close as two could get. Kennedy remembered Willow declaring her hope for their continued life together, for closeness. The slayer grazed her hand across the lover's cheek. "We will be close." Kennedy meant every word; she said them with total conviction. After, she thought to herself, 'I can't imagine a life without you.'

The dream then jumped to the couple on South Beach, standing next to each other as they watched the magnificent ocean beating against the shore.

It has been said that love is the strongest of all emotions. That it can survive through the toughest of battles or longest of separations. The great novelists and poets have written epics about the ability of love to conquer all, to reach into the darkest of hearts or travel to the ends of the earth.

That night when Kennedy and Willow gave in to their emotions, when they let their hearts resonate and their minds soar, something profound occurred. Their love transcended the earthly and other-earthly planes. Their need for each other searched through the cosmic expanse. It glided through time and dimensions and realities in a quest to connect. That which was thought to be impossible became real…because of love.

Both women were in their own dream state, each experiencing from their own reality. Yet, they were together on the beach. Next to each other; so close they could feel the other's heat resonating off her body. They turned and faced one another. The lovers were bathed in light. Neither talked; each held up a hand and, as slow as a lingering kiss, inched it closer to the other. Their fingers never touched; there was but a gossamer wisp of space between alabaster and honey fingers.

But that was of no relevance, for the slayer and the witch felt 'it'. Not a touch, but a sense like that received from a warm, light Indian summer breeze. As brown eyes gazed into emerald, the women felt the connection, the diaphanous union of their souls. They knew they would find each other.

At that moment, both women awoke from their respective slumber. They sat up in bed in their individual realities.

Buffy sat in her hotel room, the one three doors down from Kennedy. She was drinking coffee from the in room coffee maker and recalling the previous night's events.

Her plane landed in Miami International Airport in the late afternoon and she took a taxi directly to Kennedy's hotel. Having been previously told the room number by Faith, Buffy immediately went to see if the brunette was there. When there was no response to her knocking, Buffy assumed the younger slayer was getting something to eat. So she went back to the front desk and booked herself a room. "I don't know exactly how long I'll be…can I pay for a week and let you know later if I'm staying longer?"

After having settled the financial arrangements, Buffy went to her room and emptied her suitcase, putting the clothes in drawers and toiletries in the bathroom. Then she called Kennedy's room and left a voice mail message for her. "Kenne?…Hey, it's Buffy…I'm here in South Beach…at your hotel actually…call me in room 407…or call my cell if I'm not there." Buffy made a similar call to Kennedy's cell phone, which was not answered, and left a like message. Then she waited.

When Kennedy had not shown or called by 7:30, Buffy left her room to get dinner. She decided she would walk around afterwards and maybe luckily spot the slayer.

Dinner came and went as did her stroll, which had turned into a full fledge walk of the entire art deco section of South Beach. Having had no luck with finding Kennedy, the blonde headed back to the hotel. 'Maybe Kennedy's there and is scared or too pissed to call me.' Back at the Tides, Buffy once again knocked on the brunette's door with no answer. There was also no message waiting for her on the hotel phone in her room.

Buffy got worried. "Where the hell are you, Kennedy?" Buffy knew she couldn't walk the entire area so she was resigned to waiting. When she still hadn't received a call within the next hour, the slayer decided to wait outside Kennedy's door. There she stood putting up with stares from guests thinking she was casing the area to leers from guys assuming she was from an "escort service." Buffy waited until after 1:30am when she finally saw the brunette come stumbling out of the elevator and down the hallway. She didn't want to embarrass or anger the girl, so she stepped off to the side, out of the direct line of Kennedy's vision. Buffy was glad the slayer was ok, even if she could tell the woman was very drunk. The blonde was going to wait until Kennedy made it into her room and then go back to her own. A morning reunion would go a lot better Buffy surmised.

However, when she saw the brunette slayer swaying and unable to even to work her hotel key card, Buffy knew she had to help. Her first thought when she saw Kennedy looking at her was 'My god, what is she doing to herself?' Her second thought was how glad she was she came down. Kennedy needed help, that was obvious.

So Buffy assisted Kennedy into her room. She hit the light switch and saw the unkept sprawl of the place; it further cemented in her mind that Kennedy was in a bad way. Though no way near as tidy as Willow, the brunette nonetheless kept her things in order, especially her weapons. But in the hotel room, spikes, knives and clubs were laying about.

The whole time Buffy was in her room, Kennedy kept muttering something that Buffy couldn't decipher. She didn't know if the slayer fully realized she was there. Buffy helped Kennedy to the bed and rested her on it after pulling back the sheets. She took off the slayer's boots and pulled the top sheet back up covering the girl. Buffy turned off the light as she left the room. When the door latch clicked, Buffy sighed. "This isn't going to be easy…" Buffy went back to her room to get a good night's sleep. She knew she'd need it for the day that was ahead of her.

Buffy came out of her thoughts. She looked at her watch – 9:42am. Still no call or knock on the door from Kennedy. The slayer decided she had waited long enough for the 'reunion' with Kennedy. The girl had looked worse than Buffy expected. Too drunk, which was never a good sign in a slayer, and too thin, never a good sign in any person dealing with the loss of a loved one. It wasn't a complete disapproval – 'the hair looks great,' she thought. Buffy put her coffee down and headed out the door, straight for Kennedy's room.

After waking from her dream, Kennedy came to the instant realization that somehow Willow had been there with her. This wasn't like previous nights when she'd dreamt about her girl being with her only to help her subconscious deal with the separation. In those, when the brunette awoke there was a sense of loss, knowing that the dream was just a manifestation of the longing she had to just touch her redhead again. Those dreams were her mind's way of letting her feel a little happiness even if it brought her sorrow once she awoke.

This time, however, it wasn't a play put on by her mind. It was real. Willow and she had connected in some indescribable way. Kennedy didn't just think or presume Willow was alive; she knew it. She had felt the woman's aura, her existence, as sure as if the redhead were standing beside her now. Kennedy had never felt such a wonderful feeling of relief. That truth she had held onto for so long was justified. Willow was out there somewhere and the slayer knew she could get her back. Her witch was as desperate to return as she was to find her.

It took several minutes of pacing around the room letting the significance of the recent event sink in before Kennedy realized that she hadn't had her usual morning after reaction to the previous night's drinking binge. Her head was clear and she felt fine. "I guess finding out your girlfriend is alive is the best cure for a hangover," she quipped.

Just then, there was a knock on her door. Surprised, the brunette walked over and peeped into the security eye in the door. Startled, the slayer muttered "Buffy?" As soon as she said the name, Kennedy faintly recalled the blonde slayer's presence in the hallway and her room the previous night. She opened the door.

"Kennedy…hey, I wanted to make sure you were ok…you didn't return any of my calls…and you were pretty out of it last night." Buffy didn't know what kind of a reception she'd get so she tried to sound non-threatening.

"Yeah…I'm fine…come on in." The brunette turned her head and looked at her room phone by the bedside table and saw the message light flashing. "Sorry, guess I didn't notice it." Kennedy was remembering more of the blonde's appearance last night, but was curious as to why she was there at all.

Buffy walked in and Kennedy closed the door behind her. After seeing her friend look around the room, Kennedy joked, "The maid service here has a lot to be desired." She could tell Buffy wasn't amused with her attempt to cover up her own less than hygienic living style. She decided to cut to the chase.

The blonde slayer looked directly at her. "To help you," she said compassionately.

Kennedy smiled. "I don't need help, Buff…I know Will's alive…for sure." She said it with such conviction.

Buffy kept staring at the brunette and then at the room around her. "Kennedy, I don't know what you think you know…but it looks like you're letting this get outta hand…"

Kennedy stopped her from saying another word. "No…Buffy…while I was sleeping last night…me and Will…we connected somehow…" Kennedy went on to tell Buffy the feeling she got from her dream and how she woke up knowing that Willow was alive.

Buffy stood quietly listening to the younger slayer talk. The blonde patiently waited while Kennedy rambled on and on about her dream, all the segways to places she and Willow had been and then the scene at the beach – the connection. Buffy lowered her head as she heard Kennedy's voice start to take a manic tone when she described the "sense" she got about Willow. Buffy was saddened by what she was perceiving as Kennedy's collapse. The brunette seemed to have grabbed onto a drunken induced dream to make her case for Willow still being alive. The combination of Kennedy's emotional state and her physical appearance made the older slayer feel extremely worried for the girl.

Buffy didn't know how to start her response; so she just jumped in. "Kenne…I don't think you're seeing things clearly…that was just a dream you had…" Kennedy tried to protest but Buffy wouldn't let her talk. "You were plastered when you got back last night…your brain was probably just working off your drunk…in your condition, I don…" Kennedy, furious, interrupted her.

"What do you mean 'in my condition'?…You saw me for a few minutes…while I was drunk…what do you know about 'my' condition?" Kennedy knew she had learned something wonderful this morning and she wasn't going to let Buffy think it was all in some 'fucked up' head of hers.

Buffy took Kennedy's defensiveness as the denial that most people in trouble exhibit. She knew she had to lay it on the line to make the brunette see the true desperate nature she was in.

"Jesus, Kennedy…do you think I can't tell things are screwed up with you?…look around for God sake…this place is a sty…" Buffy had started firing and she knew she had to let the slayer have both barrels. "…so tell me, do you always have empty bottles of booze hanging around?…and look at your spikes and stuff…you never just leave them thrown around…" Then Buffy got personal. She tried to keep her tone in a reserved quiet way. "…Kenne, look at yourself…you're obviously not eating enough…and I've never seen you as drunk as last night…"

Buffy knew better. "Don't try to tell me it was only once…Faith said you were drinking too much when she was down here." The blonde continued while Kennedy stood there rigid, arms folded in front of her. Buffy could tell the brunette was getting mad. She didn't care. If hating her was what it took to snap Kennedy out of her self-destructive mode, then so be it. The slayer continued. "Besides…why would you even consider drinking when you're patrolling…are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Now it was Kennedy's turn to make a point. She vehemently said, "I don't drink before patrolling…I don't drink at all during the day…"

Buffy wasn't impressed. "Oh, is that supposed to make things ok?…you're sober for most of the time before you get completely smashed?…God Kennedy, can't you see what you're doing to yourself?" There was a slight pleading tone to the question. Buffy was seriously concerned for her friend. Then she hit ground zero. "Do you think Willow would've wanted you to get like this?"

That was the stone that tipped the scales. Kennedy lashed out at Buffy. "Don't you dare bring Willow into this…" Buffy cut her off before she could continue.

"Don't bring her into this?…Willow is the 'only' thing that 'this' is about," the blonde said spreading her arms out to reference Kennedy and the room. "You say you're here for Will, but you're doing everything that she would've hated…" Buffy wasn't about to let Kennedy off the hook. The brunette wasn't the only who loved Willow and Buffy wouldn't let Kennedy think she alone held the right to decide how the witch was remembered.

Brown eyes burned into Buffy's stare. Kennedy was furious. The brunette had spent the last several months thinking of nothing but finding her redhead and now she was being lectured on what Buffy thought Willow would want of the brunette. Kennedy struck back.

"I'm doing exactly what Willow would want me to do…I'm doing the same as she would be if I was the one who disappeared…so don't drill me about why I'm here…" Kennedy could feel her anger build. "…at least I'm here…doing something, which is more than I can say for the rest of her so called friends…"

Kennedy felt the remorse as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She had lashed out and said something she really didn't mean. She knew the Scoobies loved Willow and would have walked to the center of the earth if they were told that would have brought her back.

When Kennedy said those hateful words and saw the hurt and disappointment in Buffy's eyes, she realized that Buffy had been right in many ways. She had let things get out of hand; she was behaving in a way that would have made Willow ashamed of her. The brunette slayer was ashamed of herself. Kennedy knew she had to try to apologize for her unnecessary verbal assault.

Her face softened and her voice took on a repentant tone. "Oh, Buffy…I-I didn't mean…that…I'm sorry…I know you guys tried…shit…I just…things h-haven't been…" She looked at Buffy whose hurtful look had started to mingle with one of anger.

Now it was Kennedy that was seeking understanding from the blonde. "Listen…I know I haven't been acting like myself, but it gets me through the day…and I've figured out some things…and after last night, I know Willow's out there…you've got to believe me, Buffy."

Buffy shook her head. The brunette was acting like anything but the friend she had come to value over the last several years. "Kennedy, why should I think your dream is true?…you're not acting like yourself. You haven't really kept in touch with us…we've had to call you…and even then your cellphone's never on…you're acting like a crazy person…"

Kennedy stayed calm. "I'm not crazy…I know what happened last night…Willow's out there…"

The blonde slayer couldn't keep listening to the brunette's rant about her best friend's connection when every bit of research had come to the opposite conclusion. "Kennedy…you have to stop doing this to yourself…you know what we found when we looked into this…you've been down here, what, three months?…and you've never come up with anything…all of a sudden, just when I happen to show up…then you say you saw Will…" Buffy's voice got very quiet. "Do you think, maybe, it's just your brain's way of trying to keep the dream going instead of coming to terms with it?"

Kennedy knew Buffy was wrong. As well meaning as she may have thought she was, the blonde slayer was still wrong. The brunette said plainly, "No, Buffy…this isn't some way of me not dealing with Willow being dead…she's not…why can't you just believe me?"

Buffy had to tell the slayer the truth. "Because it's you, Kennedy, who thinks Willow's alive…only you…every other person…Giles, the Council, the coven women…everybody says Will's gone…there's been not one speck of proof that she's still alive…I'm sorry, Kennedy…but your feelings for Willow are too strong to let you see things clearly…" Not wanting Kennedy to think the blonde blamed her, Buffy quickly added, "…I know you want her alive…I understand why you feel you need that…but it's been five months, Kenne…"

Kennedy knew she wasn't getting through to Buffy. "But I know Willow…just cuz she hasn't made contact doesn't mean anything…and you're right, I am close to this…I know Willow better than anyone…" Kennedy hesitated before continuing. "…probably even better than you…and what she told me about magick makes me know she's alive…"

Buffy still thought the brunette was keeping her eyes blinded to the facts. "Will's not the only one who knew magick…Giles had the best witches he knew working on this…Kennedy, none of them found anything to say Willow's in some other place…"

The brunette took in everything Buffy said. She knew that from the outside looking in, her behavior of late would cause any one to have concern. But then she remembered the old saying "Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean you aren't being followed." Despite her less than stellar method for handling Willow's disappearance, Kennedy had sound reasons for doing what she was doing and for being where she was, regardless of what the "proof" said. She knew Willow was alive even if everyone else said she wasn't. She was up against the impossible.

That thought switched on a lightbulb in her head. She turned and stared intently at Buffy.

"All the 'proof' said I never shoulda been a slayer while you or Faith was alive…For how many thousands of years was there only 'The Chosen'…just one girl…it was impossible to have more than one slayer, never mind the hundreds that exist now…right?" Kennedy watched as Buffy took the words in. "No one would've said it was possible…they would have thought you were crazy if you said a little Jewish witch and an axe could juice up all the potentials…" Now it was Kennedy who was on a roll. "…and what about all the apocalypses you stopped…the end of the world has been written down in so many books…'it's inevitable', they all say…but you stopped them…no one would have thought you could…" Kennedy went in for her finale. "Think about all the things that for hundreds or thousands of years people thought were the ultimate truth only to find out later they were wrong…the world being flat…the sun rotating around the earth…the devil causing the black plague…"

Then the younger slayer got closer to the Buffy. Quietly, "Can you be so absolutely sure that this isn't another one of those times?…Isn't it possible that all the others are wrong and what I'm saying is the truth?"

Kennedy let her speech work its way into the blonde's head. She watched as she saw Buffy contemplating the importance of what she was saying. It was like the blonde was looking into Kennedy's head, her soul, to find the source from where all her assuredness came. Kennedy knew for Buffy to believe, she would have to blindly give her trust to Kennedy; she would have to forego her own belief. Brown eyes watched as the minutes ticked away on the bedside clock. The silence and wait were agonizing for the brunette. She kept watching blue eyes strain for an answer.

Buffy was taking a leap of faith. She knew she was opening herself to possible heartbreak again. Though she kept hope that Willow was alive, she had begun to think of the witch as gone from her life. She had been able to survive because none of the Scoobies were ready to put Willow's "death" out in the open. Like the loved ones of a kidnapped child, they all wanted to believe that the passage of time didn't mean less chance of well being for their friend. Buffy had held onto that distorted and illogical view of Willow's status until now.

Somewhere during Kennedy's presentation, Buffy started to get a sensation run down the back of her neck. It made the hairs stand at attention. It wasn't a chill or an unnerving feeling, but a sense of the possible. It was somewhat like the reaction she had when she figured out how to beat the First. Something 'clicked' in her head and for the first time, she had the real impression that Willow was still alive. She knew Kennedy was right about one thing; there was no such thing as never or impossible. The blonde had proven that before. She had died and been resurrected; her sister had been a ball of pure energy, and she had concocted the plan to awaken all the slayers in the world. Though Kennedy's ranting and sour demeanor hadn't helped her cause, the message did. And, as Buffy knew, that was what was important. So, in the end, she jumped in with both feet and decided to give Kennedy her support. If the woman who was closer than any one to Willow said the witch was alive, then she was. It was worth the shot even if it could end in true heart ache for all.

Before Kennedy could utter a word, Buffy continued. "…You say Will's out there, I trust you…but you are a mess…I don't see how you can do anything in your condition…"

Kennedy listened as Buffy lectured her on her present state and her need to "…straighten up." After receiving a sarcastic look from the gay slayer, Buffy fumbled for different words. "…you know what I mean…"

Kennedy knew Buffy was right. As sure as she knew Willow was alive, the brunette was also as certain her current actions weren't going to get her closer to the witch. Kennedy had dipped her feet in the pool of despair and it was time to put her shoes back on and leave. She'd have to clean up her act and behave like a true slayer if she wanted to find Willow.

"I know, Buffy," the brunette said in a surrendering tone. "…things have been hard…I just…I tried to…" Once again, Kennedy had trouble conveying how hard her life had been the last several months without her redhead.

Buffy understood the remorse Kennedy felt. The brunette had done what she did because it was the only solution she knew to make it through the day. Even though her actions were unhealthy, they at least kept her going. Buffy understood too well the feeling of utter detachment. She remembered that her affair with the soulless Spike was spurned on by her need to make some contact, some feeling, after her resurrection. As wrong as she knew the relationship was, she had to have it; she craved it, because it was the one thing that made it possible for her to keep herself together.

"It's ok, Kennedy…you don't need to explain anything to me…I'm here to help now…but you need to get a grip on things…so we can bring Willow back."

Kennedy saw a look of compassion on Buffy's face and realized the blonde did understand her predicament. She smiled back in gratitude.

"She was there…" Walking around her room, Willow repeated those words several times as she tried to fully understand what had happened. For almost five months there had been no glimmer of contact, not even a healthy plan for making a break through. Then last night occurred.

The witch was certain that what she experienced was some form of communication with her slayer. The dream was no subconscious mind walking, no emotional letting off of steam. Kennedy was with her. There was a shared knowledge that their reunion would happen.

Willow took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. With that release went all the little voices of doubt that the redhead had tried to banish from her thoughts. As much as Willow tried to stay positive during her exile, there were nagging festering doubts that once in a while told her, "Kennedy's given up" or "You'll never get back." They tended to come when the witch allowed herself to think too much. Willow learned that being brainy, being the type of person who analyzed situations extensively, wasn't always a benefit. The witch would sometimes find herself contemplating whether her assumption about time was accurate.

Willow was enough of a science nerd to know about Einstein's "Theory of Relativity" and its implications on time. In theory, time was fluid; it took on a different quality, frame of reference away from earth. To Willow, it stood to reason that time was measured differently in different dimensions. Buffy's comment after her resurrection that her death seemed much longer than the several months it was to the Scoobies reinforced her belief. Though her watch told her months had elapsed, the witch would wonder how many days had in fact passed for Kennedy and the others she loved. Of course, as voices of doubt go, Willow's would always assume that much more time had elapsed. She would find herself thinking that maybe years had gone by instead of months.

During these times, Willow felt a stab of sorrow for her mother and father. It was bad enough to wonder how they would take her disappearance in any event, but to think of them pining their daughter's death for years was staggering. Willow knew her parents loved her dearly and that any loss would be devastating.

The redhead would also wonder how her friends would move on with their lives. She'd have visions of years gone by and the Scoobies laughing around a dinner table during some holiday while a picture of her stood on the mantle piece. Willow knew that at some point, they'd have to give up trying to find her and start living their lives again.

The hardest one to think about in her make shift drama was Kennedy. Willow knew that the brunette loved her completely. She was passionate about her devotion to the witch. It was the one sure thing which the redhead never questioned. Kennedy's adoration overwhelmed Willow at times; there were many an occasion when the witch didn't think she deserved it. Early on in their relationship, Willow secretly wondered and worried if she'd be able to return it in kind. Though Kennedy had not seen the witch's plunge into the dark magicks, the girl had been witness and unwilling participant to its once lingering effects. And yet, the brunette still loved her. Willow had never met such a resolved, strong person in her life. Once the witch came to the realization that she was just as much in love with the girl, Willow felt the hunger for a life with her.

But during her bouts of time introspection, Willow wondered if her slayer would move on. She knew Kennedy eventually would have to. The one thing Willow had learned from Tara's death was that the heart can love again. It pained her to think that in her real world years had elapsed and Kennedy had found solace and love in another's arms. Though a part of her said that she would want Kennedy to be happy again, the other felt the pain of heartbreak thinking that she could lose her brunette through the evil actions of another. As she clung to her love for Kennedy, Willow wondered if she had become Kennedy's version of Tara. It hurt too much to think about it.

Those doubts of time stretching, mourning parents and losing her one and only were obliterated now. After her connection with Kennedy, the witch knew the slayer was waiting and searching for her. The only thought she had now was that they would reunite; the only question was when and how she and Kennedy would be able to work out the puzzle from their own respective sidelines.

Willow stopped her pacing and sat on the bed. She looked around at her make shift home and saw Kennedy everywhere. The brunette was in the CDs and DVDs she had, and the articles of hers that passed with Willow to her altered reality. She treasured those few simple things, a magazine, spike and beach blanket. That spike had helped keep her alive. And of course there was her hummingbird necklace. She placed her hand on the piece around her neck. Willow remembered receiving that birthday gift. It was the exclamation point to the most perfect birthday she'd ever had. Luckily, the witch wore it that day to the beach; she had almost decided otherwise.

That necklace had become more than just jewelry to Willow. It represented the bond between her and Kennedy. They were bound together for life. "What God has brought together, let no one put asunder…" The words felt so right being said out loud. A warm feeling came over Willow and a soft smile gathered on her mouth. The redhead realized that she thought of herself as 'committed' to Kennedy in more than just the 'living together' way.

When she thought about it more, Willow surmised that she'd had a bud of that perception for a while. She remembered a discussion with Buffy shortly before Kennedy's slayer dream concerning a scary predicament the blonde thought she was in. It was a Saturday morning and Buffy had cryptically phoned the redhead asking to meet at a local coffee shop. Willow did and was surprised at the reason for the secret liaison.

"Will…I may be pregnant." There was genuine fear in the slayer's voice. Buffy had been dating Petson for several weeks. They'd started having sex but were very much in the "still getting to know each other" stage.

"How did this happen?" After getting a 'Do I have to explain the birds and the bees?' look from Buffy, Willow rephrased. "Did you guys not…well, you know…use…?" Willow had enough trouble talking to Kennedy about their own sex life, talking to Buffy about hers was torture.

"Yes…yes, of course we did…but I'm a week late…and I'm never late…hello, better than an atomic clock here…" Buffy was relegated to bad sarcasm to try to alleviate her crushing fear.

"Ok, Buff…don't panic…you need to try to stay calm about this." Willow could see how taken for a loop her friend was.

"Oh, sure…that's easy for you to say…you never have to worry about waking up one day and suddenly finding out you're pregnant…"

As it turned out Buffy wasn't pregnant, much to her relief. But that conversation stuck in Willow's mind. She thought about the times she and Kennedy had gone for a picnic at their favorite park. Inevitably, they'd run into a family having a day's outing. Willow remembered that she'd watch Kennedy's reaction to the children, to see if the slayer thought them a treasure or distraction. Never before in her life had children, in any form, entered her mind. The witch had never considered whether she liked, wanted or didn't want children. It wasn't necessarily because she was gay. She knew gay women had kids all the time. But she was young, and either going to college or just starting her career. It had always been a non issue. But now, because of Kennedy, Willow let the subject worm its way into her head even though the two women had never discussed it. She found that the idea didn't scare her. What that ultimately meant, she wasn't sure.

There was also a bit of sadness connected to her reaction to Buffy's statement. She and Kennedy weren't like most couples; they lacked the usual appendage required for the discussed end product. Something about never being able to be surprised like that with Kennedy made Willow sad. Even if it wouldn't be met with fear, a surprise pregnancy would never be in the cards for the couple. Having that scenario, taken for granted by so many straight people, not be an option gave Willow a sense of loss.

As she thought about it now, Willow realized that with Kennedy she wanted all the possibilities, whether they took them or not. She was cemented to the slayer, heart and soul, and wanted a life open to every adventure there was.

Willow's retrospection of her relationship with Kennedy made her understand that the brunette was the one that Willow always turned to in time of need, whatever the problem. Kennedy was her partner in every way. That understanding came as a gentle revelation on the focus of the redhead's life.

There had been a time when Willow always turned to Buffy in times of need. Certainly, any demonic trouble was the blonde's domain. But, Willow also had Buffy for support in personal matters. The witch went to Xander on occasion; however, there were some things her oldest friend just didn't get. It was a guy thing. When Tara came into her life, Willow transferred much of her emotional tangles to the blonde witch. She still relied on Buffy for the muscle end of any conflict and to direct her and the rest of the Scoobies away from evil. Willow thought of herself as a sidekick to Buffy and naturally let the slayer lead the way. She'd fight if she had to, but much preferred the security of being behind the scenes. If she was in trouble she knew Buffy would save her and that's how she viewed things in her mind.

When Kennedy came into her life, that outwardly overconfident girl looked at the Scooby dynamics much differently. Not having any idea about the driving force of the group or how the friends had come to see their roles, Kennedy wasn't impressed with Willow's subservient position. Right from the start, the brunette thought Willow as powerful and important as Buffy. The witch was no Tonto to Buffy's Lone Ranger. And Kennedy made her feelings known, rightly or wrongly.

That perception of her by Kennedy made Willow feel different about herself. She gained some pride and esteem at a time when the witch saw herself as unworthy. A look from those brown eyes and Willow almost felt like she was the mighty witch that Kennedy said she was. Because of that, there was a slight shift in Willow's placement of her emotional trust.

As time went on and the couple got closer, Willow found herself going to Kennedy more in times of need or confusion. But she still saw Buffy as the leader. That began to change with the Truxdeiro incident. During her coma-like state, when she was fighting for her life, Willow never thought of Buffy coming to save her. At her darkest moment, she only saw Kennedy and only heard her voice. When the spell brought her back to the land of the living, her first reaction was to see Kennedy because she knew the girl had been the reason she was alive. It was that event that made Willow realize that Buffy wasn't the only leader anymore; the blonde wasn't the one Willow expected or wanted to protect her. Though she still needed her friends, it was the brunette she turned to first.

"Heh, Kenne?…Do you think I should do something with my hair?" Willow was getting ready to start her new job, her "career", and wanted to approach this new part of her life with some strong changes.

Kennedy came into the bathroom where Willow was standing putting her hair up with her hands in different styles. The slayer cheekily said, "I think no matter what you do, Red, you'll still be the best looking chick there."

"No, really, I'm serious…I'm not in college anymore…this is a very important, serious job…and I just want to look…I don't know…more serious." Willow scrunched her nose. "…get what I mean?" Her long hair was starting to remind her of her days in high school.

Kennedy did. "Yeah, I get it…this is adult world now…and you want a look that matches…" Kennedy smiled at her witch and then suddenly, "…Wait…I've got the perfect style." Kennedy ran out of the room and came back a few minutes later with a picture. It was of Willow during her early college years. It was one of the pictures Kennedy had obtained from Willow's mother for the redhead's twenty-third birthday present. Willow had short hair in soft loose curls. "This is it…get something like this…I love this look on you…I always thought you looked…sophisticated in a 'Sex in the City' kinda way…and way hot." Kennedy leaned into the witch with the last comment.

That was all it took. The next day, Willow had her hair done. She had kept it short until the drop into her present world. Without a hairstylist, the witch let her mane grow out; she didn't trust herself to not butcher her hair.

That simple tiny incident was just one more indication to Willow how important Kennedy was and how much she respected and valued the girl's opinion. The slayer was there for everything.

In the course of three years, Willow had grown dependant on Kennedy. The girl was her emotional and physical support. When anything good happened, Kennedy was the first person Willow thought of telling. When fear or badness showed its ugly face, it was Kennedy that Willow wanted and needed to comfort and protect her. Buffy became the dear best friend that she liked to spend time with and who she talked to about Kennedy. The witch no longer saw Buffy as her first response team; Kennedy was her 911 call.

It was Kennedy's arms Willow cried into when she found out her father had cancer. It was her slayer's body that she rejoiced with when she found out the surgery and chemo had made him cancer free. Every up and down in the last three years of her life had been shared first with her brunette and then the others she loved.

As she thought about it now, of course it was Kennedy that filled her dreams, that had connected with her in her sleep. And of course it would be the feisty brunette who would save her. Their lives together dictated no other way. Willow freely and willingly placed her safe return in her slayer's hands for she knew Kennedy would never let her go.

Having had a good dose of "Why my girlfriend's the best", Willow knew she had to get down to some serious work. It was Monday, "Hmm…Memorial day…" and Willow could sense that she had to decode the few parts of Kennedy's slayer dream that were still a mystery to her. Something inside her witchy intuition told her that the upcoming Friday was 'the one'; the attempt to get back home that would have to succeed. The witch knew she had to be ready.

Willow could never have imagined the turns her life would take in the few days' journey to that grassy area on Friday night.

"Hey, Buff?…Can you get some more ham?" It was late Tuesday morning and the two slayers were eating at an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. The brunette had regained her appetite and was working on her third plate of food. Her volume of consumption was causing stares from other patrons; one couple had actually switched tables.

As Buffy made her way back to her friend, with ham steaks in tow, she laughed at the girl. "You plan on making up for five months of starving yourself in one sitting?"

Kennedy gave her an inquisitive look and then glanced at the numerous plates, glasses and empty butter wrappers in front of her. She placed her hand to her mouth to stop a small belch and embarrassingly said, "Umm…sorry…guess I did get a little carried away."

Buffy just smiled and put the plate of food in front of her friend. "Go to town…we'll need all the energy we can get to figure out how to get Willow back."

After their confrontation not twenty-four hours earlier, the slayers spent the rest of the day going over the information Kennedy had learned during her time in Florida. The brunette filled in Buffy on the parts of her dream she'd pieced together along with the tidbits gathered from the underbelly of Miami. There were also interludes where Buffy filled Kennedy in on the latest developments in Cleveland. Kennedy then showed Buffy the "lay of the land" and in particular the grassy area in Lummas Park that was the scene of the crime. The two also went into Miami proper; Kennedy still had some more leads she needed to track down.

Buffy watched and listened to Kennedy as she spoke to her 'interrogatees' in Spanish; it was like it was her first language. She'd also heard Kennedy and Willow speak Portuguese when they called their friends in Sao Paulo. Buffy thought back to Faith's visit at slayer central and hearing her on the phone to a slayer in Brazil. That brunette also gibbered away in Portuguese. Even Dawn was becoming proficient in deciphering old languages. 'What…am I the only one who only speaks one language?' she thought. Then she remembered that Xander had trouble even speaking English and she didn't feel so inept.

That evening, the women went out for a meal, and for the first time since her return to South Beach, Kennedy didn't mind sitting at a table along Ocean Drive. Her connection with Willow had changed everything for her. All her past beliefs were right; Willow was out there somewhere, and Kennedy knew she'd get her redhead back.

After dinner, the slayers did some patrolling and then went back to the Tides. It was the first night that Kennedy didn't go to a bar. It was the first time that she refrained from drinking. She and Buffy hung out in Buffy's room. "I'm not going in your room, Kennedy…I've been through apocalypses that were less messy…" They spent time talking and watching television. Buffy knew it had been a rough day for the younger slayer. Her complete turn around had to be causing withdrawal symptoms to her body. Buffy never saw a sign of pain or weakness from the slayer. Kennedy's ability to "suck it up" was one quality Buffy admired about the brunette.

In the three years that the two slayers had known each other, they became friends, good friends. Buffy respected Kennedy's slayer ability. She also admired the girl's hard demeanor. Kennedy never wanted pity from anyone. To be sure, she always had to stick her two cents worth into any discussion; but even then there was usually some validity to what she said. Buffy saw a little of Faith in Kennedy with her "Five by five-I've got everything under control" attitude. The blonde also had to admit she saw of little of herself in the girl. Kennedy was loyal to those she cared for and didn't blindly follow authority. In fact, once enough time had passed, Buffy saw a similarity between her own many fights with the Council before the First came along and Kennedy's disagreements with the blonde's way to fight the First. In time, Buffy truly did come to see Kennedy as an equal in slaying and life.

But there was still that occasional clash due to their respective stubborn steaks. They were never really fights, just episodes when each would think the other "just wouldn't listen." The 'conflicts' usually centered around slaying and the tactics used. Kennedy was more prone to immediate action based on her hunches than Buffy. To the blonde, Kennedy sometimes just had to do something first just to say she did. The incidences never got in the way of their friendship; it was just a part of it. Neither woman ever put Willow in the middle, but truthfully, the redhead always made sure she stayed on the sidelines. Both slayers understood that every so often, they would agree to disagree.

The one thing about Kennedy that Buffy was thoroughly certain of was the brunette's love for her best friend. Buffy had seen that 'look' in Kennedy's eyes as she watched Willow early on when the potential was at her house in Sunnydale. In the three years since then, that look in the girl's eyes was still there, just as strong if not more so. If she were pressed, Buffy would have said that she didn't believe at first that the two would stay together. Kennedy was so unlike anything Willow had ever experienced. Brash and opinionated, and overtly interested. Kennedy pushed Willow and didn't mind making her take sides. Given Willow's fragile state at the time, Buffy didn't know if the redhead could handle such forwardness and attitude; she wasn't sure she wanted Willow to try. They had all loved Tara very much. The blonde witch was so shy and mothering. With their gentle natures, Tara and Willow were completely compatible; the same side of the same coin. After Kennedy's arrival, seeing Willow's face brighten up to someone new left a tinge of remorse and hurt in the blonde slayer.

Eventually, Buffy came to the understanding that Kennedy truly loved Willow. Her willingness to die at the hands of the Truxdeiro to save the witch was the icing on the cake. Buffy didn't question Kennedy's devotion after that. When Willow teleported from Cleveland to Sao Paulo to comfort her desperate slayer, the blonde then realized that her friend was as in love with the brunette.

Over time, Buffy came to appreciate the brunette in all aspects. She was an incredible slayer, a loyal friend and a great partner to Willow. Whatever occasional head butting they might have to entertain was worth putting up with as far as the blonde slayer was concerned.

By eleven that eventful Monday night, Kennedy decided to go back to her own room. "I gotta clean it if I ever expect you to step foot inside…" As she walked to the door, the brunette paused with her hand on the latch. Without turning around, "Thanks, Buffy…for believing me…for helping…" As she walked out the door, Kennedy heard Buffy's simple reply, "That's what friends are for…"

After their late breakfast attack on Tuesday, which lasted into early afternoon, the slayers went back to the hotel. Kennedy told Buffy that she needed some time to make several phone calls. Buffy took the opportunity to call Jimmy and check in with Xander.

In her room, Kennedy immediately grabbed her cellphone and dialed the number she knew by heart. In the months since Willow's disappearance, this was the first time that she looked forward to hearing the line pick up at the other end.

When Willow initially vanished, it was assumed that she had been hopefully sent to another place somewhere on earth, much like the redhead had done to Glory and others over her years as a witch. Kennedy and Faith didn't call Buffy or Giles for the first two days, expecting the witch to show up or call on her own. When she didn't, phone calls were made and the search for Willow really began.

No one thought of letting Willow's parents know what had happened in the beginning. They were busy trying to figure out what exactly did happen, and still thought that the redhead wasn't really gone. After several weeks, when they were getting no closer to an answer, Giles told Kennedy that Willow's parents needed to be informed.

"What do we tell them, Giles?…We still don't know where she is…" Kennedy knew that the news would hit the couple hard. As much as they supported their daughter's life style, the slayer knew they harbored doubt and worry for their little "Willow tree" putting herself in danger.

"Then that's what we tell them, Kennedy…They are Willow's parents…They have a right to know…and they should know…"

Kennedy knew the watcher was right. She also knew she was the one who had to tell them. "Alright, Giles…I'll call them now."

That was the hardest call Kennedy ever had to make. The brunette believed in her heart that Willow was alive and would come back, but she still had to tell Sheila and Larry that their only child, their baby, was missing. As expected, they took the news hard. Kennedy could hear a tone in their voice that she'd never heard before. It was fear and anger. Fear at the thought that they might never see their beautiful daughter again, and anger at the part of her life that had caused it. Kennedy could tell the Rosenbergs weren't angry at her, per se, but at the component of their daughter's life that put her face to face with demons and such.

Throughout the conversation, Kennedy kept telling them that she was certain that Willow was "Ok…she's fine…" and that the Scoobies would find her or she'd come back on her own. By the end of the call, Sheila and Larry Rosenberg had faith that Kennedy was right and that Willow would come back, good as new.

After that, regardless of where she was, Kennedy called Willow's Parents once a week to keep them updated. She always tried to give them new information she learned and kept her tone upbeat. The brunette never wanted the couple to think that things were looking bleak or that maybe she was wrong about Willow being alive. "Sometimes things take longer than we expect…" Kennedy would tell them. No matter what stumbling blocks Kennedy hit, she always sounded confident to the Rosenbergs. Sheila and Larry kept strong behind Kennedy; they didn't falter in their belief in their daughter's partner.

After Kennedy returned to South Beach, Giles wanted to talk to Willow's parents about what they had found in their research. Kennedy said no. "She's not dead, and you can't tell her parents she is…you can't do that to them." Despite the watcher's better judgment, he acquiesced to Kennedy's decision. But in the back of his mind, Giles knew that there would come a day when even Kennedy's hopeful desire wouldn't outweigh the parents' need to know the truth.

"Ok, Sheila…I will…and I'll call you as soon as something happens…Bye." When she closed her cellphone, Kennedy instantly felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off her shoulders. She had finally been able to give concrete, happy news to Willow's parents. The brunette could hear the sadness in their voices lift a little. Kennedy thought to herself that hopefully the next phone call to them would be made by the redhead herself.

Before she had a chance to really rejoice in the happiness she was certain she just instilled in Willow's parents, Kennedy flipped her phone open again and started pressing numbers. She had another Tuesday ritual phone call to make. This one was as much for her benefit as the recipient's.

Gabriella Gonzalez stayed home every Tuesday just so that she would be there to receive her daughter's call, whenever it might come that day. She'd been in that ritual since she came back from seeing her daughter in South Beach in the beginning of April. Gabriella was the only person to have seen Kennedy at a low point since Willow's vanishing. The fact that Kennedy entrusted that glimpse of her emotional state with the woman made Gabriella know that she really was Kennedy's mother again in all respects. It had been an interesting trip getting there.

After Kennedy saved her mother from the Fear Caller demon and she and Willow went back to the States, Gabriella tried to go on with her life in Bruna Juanto, Sao Paulo, Brazil. At first, she was content; phone calls from Kennedy and Willow were enough to make her happy along with her vegetable garden. She was sad when they couldn't visit as planned in the fall of 2003; she understood the two were young vibrant women trying to go to college and live their busy lives.

As the days, weeks and then months went by, Gabriella started to feel an emptiness inside. She had a good life; she was free from the demon torment, had a nice house in a wonderful quaint city, and had friends. But she still felt like something wasn't right. In December of 2003, Gabriella decided to visit her daughter and Willow. Once there, she discovered the 'thing' that was lacking – being with her daughter and the other woman she'd come to view as her second child. The woman missed Kennedy and Willow.

When she returned to her Brazilian home after that visit, nothing seemed to fit. It didn't take the woman long to realize she had nothing keeping her in Brazil. Her parents were dead; she had no other siblings. The closest relatives were several hundred miles away. So Gabriella decided to move. She wanted to be closer to her daughter and Willow.

"Oh my God, Gabbie…Kennedy's gonna be ecstatic when I tell her you're moving here…"

Gabriella was living in an apartment outside of Cleveland by the end of January 2004. By the end of March, the woman knew she couldn't handle the cold. As much as she loved her daughter, the blistering temperatures of the Ohio winter chilled her to the core. It was just as obvious to Kennedy that her mother was having a hard time of it but that she was putting up a good front for the benefit of her daughter. The brunette also knew the weather couldn't be good for the woman's less than perfect heart.

"Mom…I know you wanna live close to us…but this isn't good for you…you need warmer weather."

"I'll be fine…what's the point of me moving to the U.S. if I'm not gonna be near you two?"

"What's the point of you moving here if you put yourself in the hospital or make your heart condition worse?"

As Willow listened to the two Gonzalez women, she couldn't help but notice how much alike they were. They both carried that stubborn streak and once their minds were made up, it was hard to get them to give an inch. This time, it was the mother that finally handed up that precious inch.

It was decided that Gabriella would stay in the United States but move to a warmer climate, more like that in Brazil. "Listen Mom, try this…and if you want, you can do six months in each place…summer here and winter there…"

Naples, Florida was the place chosen. Kennedy had first suggested Miami because of the South American influx. "You'd fit right in, Mom." But Gabriella said no. She said no to Phoenix and Austin also. There were too many bad influences in each place, too much of a chance to run into her past. She settled on Naples, Florida, an up and coming city on the west coast of the state that was well-to-do and artsy but still carried that small town laid back feel. In Naples, Gabriella could have her garden and still see a good play or listen to the symphony if she needed. The weather was the tropical climate she knew and favored. Most importantly, there were no reminders of her checkered past.

After her move in June, she instantly became adjusted to the area. Kennedy and Willow visited several times. Direct flights and cheap airfare made even Willow a frequent flyer.

Gabriella found out about Willow's disappearance almost immediately, but only because of an innocent call to her daughter. She called Kennedy's cell phone the day after Willow vanished. At the time, all Kennedy said was that there had been a "demon thing" and that she couldn't talk because they were looking for the witch. When she still hadn't heard any more news several weeks later, Gabriella called Kennedy again and was told what the slayer knew to that point. As with Willow's parents, Kennedy assured her mother that Willow was alive but just lost for the moment. From that point on, Gabriella made Kennedy promise to call her at least once a week to let her know how things were going. Gabriella heard the tone in her daughter's voice when they talked. She could sense that Kennedy was much more scared than she let on. The woman thought momentarily on how much like her father Kennedy was in that regard.

Every Tuesday thereafter, Kennedy called her mother to give the latest news. Sometimes Gabriella heard a wisp of despair in her daughter's voice. One Tuesday, there was no call. Gabriella tried for three days to contact her daughter. She knew Kennedy was in South Beach. The woman called Buffy to see if they'd heard from her daughter. Later that day, Gabriella got a call from Faith.

After Faith returned from her week's visit to Kennedy, she had a nagging feeling that someone needed to be there with the girl. When she found out that the brunette wasn't even calling Gabriella, Faith decided to take matters in her own hands. She told the mother that Kennedy wasn't doing too good and could use her there. Faith gave the mother the hotel information and Gabriella drove across the state that very day.

She found Kennedy in her room. It was four in the afternoon and the girl was looking through the Han Nurrabi Chronicles. Gabriella couldn't believe her eyes. Her daughter looked like a shell of the woman she'd seen only six months before. Those beautiful chocolate eyes had a look of complete grief.

"Kennedy, honey…please talk to me…" The moment she saw her daughter, Gabriella knew the situation with Willow was graver then she'd been led to believe. Again, the woman thought how alike Kennedy was to her father. Jackson Prescott could make a person believe his life was all rosy while he was being sucked down into quicksand. The man had a way of never letting anyone know his doubts, fears or that things were anything but perfect. She knew it came from the confidence he needed in business, the "never let 'em see you flinch" mentality. It was one of the reasons that she ended up leaving her husband. He never acknowledged that there was a problem in their marriage. He was happy and his wife was happy; that's what he told himself – that's what he believed.

Gabriella knew the toll that the stoic "all is good" persona took on the psyche. She could see it on her daughter's face. Before Kennedy had a chance to cover up, to make some excuse for her appearance, Gabriella went to her daughter sitting on the bed. She sat next to her, placed her arms around her and pulled her close. She hugged her daughter as she softly said, "It's ok, honey…I'm here…you don't have to be strong…"

Kennedy tried to pull away but Gabriella hung on tight. With slayer strength, if the brunette had truly wanted to escape, she could have easily. But she fought only slightly and then Gabriella felt the tension leave and Kennedy's arms go around her waist. The girl didn't speak; she softly began to cry. The months of tension and fear washed over Kennedy and she let them flow in the safety of her mother's arms. Gabriella comforted her child like she had when the girl was but an infant. She held on and rocked her baby until the tears stopped.

Afterwards, Gabriella got Kennedy to tell her what was really happening with Willow. Kennedy still insisted that the redhead was alive but confided that she was running into roadblocks and dead ends. By the end of their talk, Kennedy had a renewed sense of strength; she felt better just being able to let that emotion go. When her mother said she'd stay, Kennedy politely told her no.

"Mom…I have to do this and…I don't know what kind of evil or demons or whatever may be involved…I can't do what I need to do and worry about you too…I don't want you getting hurt…"

In the end, it was Gabriella who gave up the inch again. But she received a concession from Kennedy. The daughter promised to continue calling her mother every Tuesday and keep her posted. "If I think you're in trouble again…I'll be at your doorstep before you know it."

Once again, Kennedy's call to her mother, as with the call to Sheila and Larry, was full of hope and confidence. Kennedy was certain Willow was coming back and she was letting everyone know.

There was no call to New York. Despite the improved relationship she had with her father, Kennedy and Jackson Prescott were still not very close. She didn't have the urge to call him every week to update him on her life. Kennedy would call him or her sister every several or more weeks and catch up on things and get the latest news on the home front. Willow's disappearance was kept from Emma and her father. During the time the redhead was gone, Kennedy was able to side track the subject in the emails and phone calls that transpired with her family. There was something inside the brunette that didn't want her father to know. It was as if she felt like the man would be able to tell she wasn't handling the situation in the 'Prescott way.' Little did she realize, she was dealing with the loss exactly as she'd been taught, by the expert – her father.

While the brunette was making her calls, Buffy was also reaching out and touching someone. Her first call was to Petson. They talked and she let him know the state Kennedy was in when the blonde arrived. She also informed him how Kennedy was certain Willow was alive and that she believed the younger slayer. Petson could hear the tiredness and hope in his girlfriend's voice. He reassured her that she had to go with her gut feeling even if that was against what the facts were saying.

"You know, Buff…you did things that the Council cringed over, too. Looks like a lot of that Summers' slayer intuition rubbed off on Kennedy…trust your instincts…they've never let you down…"

Buffy was amazed at how easily Jimmy took her news. He'd been involved in researching Willow's vanishing just like the others. He knew what the evidence pointed too; he'd listened to Buffy rant about how Kennedy wasn't being sensible. But as soon as Buffy jumped on the Kennedy band wagon, Petson was right there supporting her.

"Yeah…well, you're growing on me…and when I get back, I'll show you just how great I think you are…you better rest up."

Buffy hung up from her call with Jimmy feeling a rejuvenation of her spirit. The longer she knew the man, the more she was certain she was falling in love. And she liked it.

The next call made was to Xander. Buffy knew that she had to tell her friend that she too now thought that Willow was alive. The blonde had to tell Xander that he was right all along; some of Willow's witchiness had rubbed off on Kennedy. When the brunette slayer came home, she would be accompanied by Willow.

"Wow, Buff…I mean…Wow…They made contact?…" Xander instantly felt light of spirit. He hated thinking Willow was gone for good. He tried to hold onto that bit of hope he kept being the eternal optimist. Letting go of it was a very bleak day for him. Being able to grab onto it again made him feel wonderful.

"Looks like you were right about Kennedy…she never gave up believing…" Xander could hear the chastising tone in Buffy's voice.

"Buffy, you can't beat yourself up for thinking what everyone else thought…nothing pointed to Willow being alive…remember, you're still 'the slayer' in lots of ways…you still tend to see things in terms of the mission and not just your emotions…"

The blonde slayer knew Xander was right. She couldn't change the past but she could help Kennedy with the future. "Xan, I need you to call Giles and let him know what's going on…I don't feel like dealing with the British inquisition right now."

"Sure Buffy…I'll keep him off your back…this timing is good…Willow got mail from her job about some family medical leave thing…"

After Willow's disappearance, Kennedy knew she had to do something about the redhead's work. She forged some paperwork and got Willow a leave of absence so that the redhead could care for "her gravely ill grandmother." When the brunette decided to go back to South Beach, she asked Xander to get and open their mail. He was instructed to call her about any urgent matters. The household monthly bills, such as the electricity, water and cable, they were already on automatic withdrawal from the slayer's checking account.

Xander sounded hopeful. "Willow's leave is up for review in a few weeks…maybe she'll be able to talk to them herself…"

After Buffy received the "Dawn report" from Xander and was convinced her little sister wasn't throwing wild parties or spending her time in jail due to bouts of drunkenness, she relaxed. "Don't worry about Dawnie, Buff…she's acting very responsible…you'd be proud of her."

Buffy said her final good-bye to her friend and told him she'd call as soon as something newsworthy happened.

After all phone calls were made, the two slayers discussed their information again and what were still the missing pieces. They had dinner and made plans for the next day. Kennedy had a feeling that the upcoming Friday was going to be the one when Willow came back. She didn't know why. Months had gone by without the slightest of forward movement. Then, out of nowhere, a breakthrough. Something deep inside of Kennedy told her the answers would start coming like an avalanche. She remembered a conversation she'd had with Willow after watching a tv program about evolution.

"You really like this kinda stuff, don't you?" Kennedy was amazed at how excited her girl could get over some boring science show.

"Are you kidding?…this is what made the world…you know, the way things are…don't you think it's fascinating how there seems to be leaps in evolution?" Willow was truly immersed in the discussion. "It's like nothing happens for millions of years, then…Pow!…and then this big change…lots of things all at once…and the evolutionary ladder gets longer…it's so cool…"

Kennedy smiled inwardly to her lover's comments. As geeky as she thought the subject matter was, she couldn't help but see how adorable her girl was talking about it. There wasn't anything that Willow talked about that Kennedy didn't find interesting in some way. Even if it was simply looking at the way the redhead's lips moved as she spoke.

It was that conversation that made Kennedy now think that the upcoming Friday vigil would bring her witch back. When she told Buffy why she thought so, Buffy responded, "I feel it in my gut too, Kenne…it's this Friday…"

Neither woman knew the obstacles they'd have to face over the next three days just to get them to that grassy area on Friday night.

Memorial Day came and went for the redhead. She didn't celebrate in any regard because she was too busy searching her memory for clues to the unsolved pieces of Kennedy's slayer dream. Willow was actually quite amazed with the amount of knowledge she retained from her years of studying witchcraft. Many things came to her as easily as her name.

It wasn't just the obvious facts and information she remembered; it was like her brain had an open connection to the tomes of knowledge carried within the Han Nurrabi Chronicles and other ancient manuscripts. The witch could literally see in her mind pages that held certain information. "So, this must be what it's like to have a photographic memory…I like it." Willow knew the myth behind the Chronicles; that it showed all its secrets only to the truly worthy. She now wondered if what her mind captured were pages she'd actually read or some mystical connection that she now held with the ancient manuscript.

The next day, Willow continued her examination into Kennedy's dream. She was trying to key in on the identity of the faceless person in the dream. "If I know who it is…then the rest should fall in place." The redhead knew that how things were happening depended greatly on where the power was coming from. This in turn depended on who was wielding the influence. Nothing was completely unstoppable, but there was a big difference in how to fight a god versus a demon versus a revengeful "juiced up" mortal. The identity of the tormentor was critical.

Willow started walking the streets of South Beach. It was afternoon but still light out, so she didn't fear any demon attacks. Being out in the bright sunshine and hot, humid air made it easier for the witch to think – to let her mind take its freelance journey to the farthest recesses of her witchcraft ancestry.

As she walked, the redhead half consciously glanced inside the shop windows she passed. She'd seen the same scene hundreds of times before; she almost knew by heart every article placed in every window. She walked by the drugstore, the pizza shop and the liquor store. Next came the electronics store, the bike rental and the ice cream place.

As she passed the book store, something made the witch stop. She looked in the window at the numerous books that she had examined before. Then she turned and went inside. She'd been inside the store before, just on the hope that it would have magick books. What it did have on the subject matter was the "Sesame Street" version; nothing that would do her any good. She went in again for some reason to look around. It only took her about ten minutes to peruse the area to see that nothing new caught her eye. So Willow turned to leave.

The redhead saw it as she was just getting to the door. There to the left, placed in the store's front window facing in was a poster. It wasn't very big, about eleven inches by fourteen. Willow hadn't noticed it there before. The paper was advertising a new furniture store opening up just over the bridge on Fifth Street, on the mainland side. It wasn't the store that captured Willow's attention; it was one of the articles used in the picture. It was a white tiger skin rug.

As she stared at the picture she noticed the other parts. There were furniture and bookcases placed perfectly around a cozy fireplace, an eclectic mixture meant to emit sophistication. There were magazines on a coffee table and a music stand in the background. Sheet music lay against the ribbed backing of the metal stand. Beside it was a black piano with a violin and small bongo sitting atop. On the other side of the music stand stood a guitar resting comfortably against its own stand.

As Willow glared at the ad ever so more intensely, green eyes wandered over every detail of the objects within. The redhead could read the covers of several of the magazines on the table. One promoted the traveling life style and had an article about "The wonders of South America".

The realization of what she was looking at hit Willow like a category five hurricane. She was blown over by what she discovered. The witch had been in that same store several times before over the course of her stay in the make shift hell. Almost five months had gone by without the slightest clue of why she was there and who had placed her there. But in the matter of a few minutes, from the poster before her eyes now, Willow had the answer to her most critical question.

She stared at the tiger skin, the washed out black and white stripes, the cresting and falling of the colors like the waves of the ocean…like the grain of her beloved "Tigger" bookcase. Green eyes then fixed on the instruments, the violin and guitar. The soothing sounds delivered from the objects. The memory of musical instruments that brought back some of the happiest and most fearful moments of her life. It was of her life with Kennedy. Then the witch looked at the magazine, more specifically the article heading. Her thoughts brought her back to her life with Kennedy – in Brazil.

In a flash, Willow put the pieces together. The tormentor was from their past, their life while in Brazil. As she put the facts together, the witch knew that the villain that had played god with her and Kennedy's life wasn't in this alone. Great powers were at play, but they had been given over to a lesser being. Willow sighed a breath of relief for she now knew she wasn't dealing with a god or even a true demon. Her perpetrator was mortal, or at least had been.

Once knowing the identity, the witch let her mind race for the answers to how the play had been carried out. She searched the vast resources in her expansive body of knowledge. "He was enhanced with power…He has to be getting it from somewhere…The eye is his power…" Willow was putting the pieces in their places and the puzzle was quickly taking form.

"The eye…the eye…what are you?…" Willow visualized herself scanning through the Chronicles. Power this strong could not be left out of the book. She saw page after page fly by. Her searching mind stopped when the flying pages settled on one.

With that discovery, everything about her predicament began to make sense. She understood how she was cast upon her hideous deserted island, how her powers were muted and why she couldn't get back to Kennedy.

The Eye, an amulet of astronomical importance, had the powers of Evil itself. It could overshadow the most righteous of beings, bid demons to its will and blanket reality with a shroud of uncertainty. The amulet, in the hands of the tormentor, could be used to hinder Kennedy's power, make a fire demon pretend to attack and suck her into a parallel dimension. The control from that piece of the mystical could bind her magicks and keep her from any kind of true contact with her slayer. It was the key to the portals and the reason they were closed.

Willow smiled. As immense as the power from the Eye was, it was not without its soft underbelly. For there was always a good to offset the bad, and the same was true for the Eye. There was a ritual, an incantation, that when said at the right time would render the amulet impotent. Willow knew the spell; she could see it in her mind. The Chronicles had showed it to her.

All Willow had to do was let Kennedy know about the Eye and the incantation. The witch stared up into the sky as if looking directly at the face of her enemy.

With hatred in emerald eyes, "I know how to stop you…" Willow had to connect with Kennedy. To do that, the witch had to find out the way her powers were muted. Once she unlocked that, she knew she'd be able to warn Kennedy.

For the first time in months, Willow started feeling like her old powerful witchy self.

"I told ya that warlock had more info…the guy wouldn't look you in the eyes…" Buffy was rubbing the knuckles on her right hand which just minutes before had made repeated contact with said warlock's face. "You think they'd learn to just tell us what we wanna know…but noooo…they gotta pretend…and all that does is get them a bad headache and me a broken nail."

Kennedy smiled as she listened to Buffy. The brunette knew that a little part of the blonde slayer was having fun with this. Buffy's life had been pretty benign for the past several years, by choice, but hearing the blonde with her banter made it feel like old times.

"You always had a way with the guys, Buff…a real charmer. The info is good though…this Friday is another 'hallowed moon'…that has got to be the night to get Willow back…now we just need to know who's doing this shit to us…"

The women were making their way back to South Beach from North Miami Beach. Kennedy had been told about a warlock who was especially knowledgeable about moon cycles and lunar rituals. After a resounding beating, the man 'eagerly' told the slayers about the upcoming full moon which was also a "hallowed" one as well. He stated how that combination of moon cycles was particularly conducive to power spells and incantations. Those endowed with power could gain even greater strength with the right spell. It was also a time primed for revenge. "If someone's got a bug up his ass for someone else…this is a perfect night to do something about it…" Of course the statement didn't sound so clear coming from the warlock through a mouth full of blood and several teeth missing.

As they drove back to the Tides, Buffy couldn't help but notice that Kennedy's "rental" was a BMW. 'The girl does have taste," she thought to herself. Then a thought.

"Kennedy…this may be a weird question…but how come you don't seem all rich…you know…you don't come off as a rich, spoiled brat…" Then Buffy sarcastically added, "…well, not rich at least…"

Kennedy chuckled then said seriously, "Certainly not due to my Dad…He sent me to the snootiest schools, only rich kids for friends…swanky country club…Actually, my watcher never let me act that way…he said acting superior or privileged would get me killed cos I'd think I deserved too much from people…expect too much from them."

Buffy responded. "That's kinda harsh…" But then she let the statement sink in. "…but I get what he meant…in our business…it does come down to the slayer a lot…gotta get the job done alone."

Kennedy cleared her throat. "My Dad owns a bunch of banks and stuff down here…this is actually a company car." She glanced at Buffy who had a sarcastic 'Oh, really?' expression on her face. The brunette finished, "Being rich and spoiled does come in handy sometimes…"

Kennedy kept driving to the hotel. While the car was stopped at a red light, Buffy glanced around outside. She saw a roadside sign that caught her interest.

Kennedy leaned over and looked where Buffy was pointing. It was at a sign that had a swirly symbol on it and the words "EVACUATION ROUTE".

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that's for hurricane season…it tells traffic which way to get outta the area. They take their storms pretty seriously down here." Kennedy stared at the sign. Brown eyes fixated on the symbol for an unknown reason. Then the brunette sat straight up quickly in her seat.

"Shit!…that's it…the eye…" Kennedy gunned the gas as soon as the light turned green and sped back to their hotel.

"The eye in my dream…it's not really an eye…it's like a tunnel…like the eye of a storm…it lets things in and out…" There was excitement in Kennedy's voice. "If it's floating around in my dream, then maybe it's an object…like a ring or pendant…"

Smiling from the recent development, Kennedy quickly added, "We need to look through the Chronicles again."

Once back at the hotel, the two women hurried to Kennedy's room. Buffy noticed that the room was nice and clean. They started looking through the tome.

After about an hour they had not come up with anything. They were frustrated. Buffy took a break while Kennedy kept searching. The blonde turned on the television and watched as some weather girl talked about the upcoming pollen count and sunburn rating. Then the woman went onto another weather related subject that caught the blonde's attention.

"Kennedy?…I think we have a development." The statement was said with slight hesitation.

Without taking her eyes off the book, Kennedy responded. "Huh?…whattya talking about?" After finishing those last words, the brunette looked toward Buffy. She saw the blonde slayer pointing a finger at the tv.

"Oh, hell…" It was the only response that came into the younger slayer's mind.

After discussing the possible problems a nasty storm could have on their plans, the slayers realized they didn't really have a plan yet, so, they couldn't make any alterations. They decided to keep researching and as they gained more knowledge, they'd factor in the weather.

The women kept looking; they searched all the books Kennedy had along with doing research on the net. There were lots of stones, rings and amulets – many dealing with passages, but not anything that made either woman know they'd found the right one. They took turns taking breaks, going for a walk around the lobby and generally trying to keep their brains fresh and on point.

When it got late enough and they still had come up empty, the slayers went out to get something to eat. As they walked down the street, Buffy glanced at the store fronts.

"I wonder what they do with the animals?" the blonde slayer questioned out loud but more to herself.

"Oh, nothing really…I just saw a poster for a circus and wondered what they do with the animals down here when a hurricane hits."

Kennedy looked back at the window and saw the poster that had caught Buffy's eye. It was for Ringling's Circus that was making a visit to Miami. The brunette stopped walking and went back to take a better look at the poster. It was typical circus fare, but it was the white Bengal tiger that captured her attention. Kennedy just kept staring at that animal. As she fixated on it, the slayer could hear the melodic sounds of Latin music being played by several guitarists on the nearby hotel veranda. It was like the music she and Willow listened to so often during their stay in Brazil.

Buffy watched her friend quietly studying the picture; she could tell there was something churning in the brunette's head. The blonde could see Kennedy's eyes squint and her head tilt slightly. Then brown eyes widened.

"Son of a bitch…it's you…" Kennedy said quietly but with complete confidence in her voice.

"Yeah…" Kennedy started back to the hotel. "…that and you're keen interest in hurricanes…"

Kennedy put her arm around the blonde's shoulders. "Buff, you don't realize it…but you just started the avalanche – Pow!." Buffy gave her a confused look.

The women headed back to the Tides to do some more fact gathering and make a call to Giles. Buffy strode along thinking, 'See, I knew I'd get things done down here…I still got it.'

As they walked, Kennedy silently thought as if speaking directly to her enemy, 'I told you if I ran into you again I'd kill you…and I will you son of a bitch." It was a promise Kennedy intended to keep.

The man inside the feeble shack in the belly of the Everglades hobbled around the creaking floor. His sense of superiority over Kennedy and Willow had faded since he felt their energy and power increase two days earlier. His kettle, the life line to the slayer and witch, had undergone a profound change. Instead of the still, murky water he'd grown accustomed to viewing, the liquid in the pot took a bubbling almost churning affect after the night of the couple's 'dream connection.' Though the tormentor couldn't tell exactly how the women had grown stronger of mind, he knew they had. This caused instant concern.

"This wasn't supposed to happen…I was told I would have total control…" The crooked man spat the words out. He had come so far and given up so much to take revenge on Willow and Kennedy. He hated the thought that there might be some chance he couldn't make them suffer as they had made him. The man was determined to see this through even if that meant a change to his plans…even if it meant personal contact with the slayer to keep her from ruining everything.

"If I have to take you on again…I will…and this time, I won't lose…I was weak in Rio…I am weak no more…" DeAntiao said the words filled with hatred.

Roberto Jesus DeAntiao stood in the small shack contemplating the latest developments to his plan to seek revenge against Kennedy Prescott and Willow Rosenberg for the ruination of his life. His pursuit of vengeance was born from a mind and soul that had harbored thoughts of grandeur and menace for years. Many had been put in their place by the slayer and witch, but only DeAntiao had the twisted evil mindset to seek havoc on the couple for the righteous pain they had caused him.

"I was meant for silent greatness…you killed that for me…I'm not going to let a couple of two bit cunts get away with that…"

The story of DeAntiao's journey to seek revenge after the music shop in Rio and the brutal beating from Kennedy following his kidnapping of Willow was a twisted one, filled with hatred, evil and idolization of self.

Roberto Jesus DeAntiao was born of Chilean parents who were hard working, decent people. Neither rich nor poor, they managed to give their only son a good life by Chilean standards. He had clothes on his back, shoes on his feet and food always on his plate. Being the owners of a small market stand in a mid sized city, the DeAntiaos made enough money to send their son to school. Like every parent, Julio and Elisabette wanted a better life for their boy and knew education was the key. When Roberto turned ten, they sent him to a boarding school about seven hours away from home. Though they knew they would miss him terribly and only see him on holidays, the parents decided that it was the best move for their son's future.

The boy, even at the age of ten, couldn't wait to be rid of his parents. His earliest memories were of doubt over the validity of the people caring for him actually being his parents. Though the child looked just like his father, and had his mother's eyes, Roberto always felt he had been switched at birth. The people that raised him were humble and content to live a life of near poverty. He took their lack of education as a sign of stupidity. Their four room house seemed like a mansion to them. Regardless of their plight, the couple seemed ignorantly happy.

Roberto couldn't understand or accept their views. He never thought he was cut from the same fabric as them. He hated his station in life; he despised the way in which he lived. Roberto DeAntiao, even at that tender age, thought his parents beneath him. "I'm better than this…than them…" he told himself every night. "I'm meant for something great…" was said to put himself to sleep instead of counting sheep.

Another aspect of his parents that Roberto couldn't abide, and certainly didn't share, was their mild manner. The boy used to see his father get pushed around and yelled at by customers or vendors. His mother would just smile as the thugs in town stole from them. Roberto carried a different approach to violence; he embraced it. As a small child, he was harsh to the family pets and stray animals. It was something that didn't go unnoticed by his parents. They thought it a phase. It wasn't.

The older Roberto got, the more violent he became. He was suspended from his private school twice for fights with other students; one such altercation had caused a ruptured eardrum to the other boy.

By age fourteen, DeAntiao had gotten beyond control. He was kicked out of school and sent to Chile's version of juvenile detention. It was the best and worst thing to happen to the teenager – depending on whose view was taken.

The facility where he went was full of thugs and hard juvenile criminals along with emotionally unstable teenagers. What no one really understood was that the place also had its share of the mystically endowed. Some of the so called "bad apples" were really warlocks and witches that hadn't come to understand their powers and so abused them. Those individuals were easy to spot; they didn't have to talk or act tough. In fact most were reserved. Their random, powerful lashings out kept every one at arm's length. Roberto saw a magnificent strength in them. He saw they could be great; he wanted to be like them.

The teenage DeAntiao cautiously made friends with several of them. He learned their ways and their magicks. What he gave in return was his loyalty and the willingness to do whatever they asked of him. His time at the facility turned out to be the early lessons of being a warlock and the infusion of minor mystical abilities.

When released, Roberto decided that he could make a better life for himself on his own than with the pathetic people who called themselves his parents. So he ran away, right to a group of mystics one of his fellow detainees told him about. Because of his determination and hidden mean streak, the group took him in. They were a band of vagabonds, thieves, and hustlers. When in the mood, they also were tormentors of the weak.

DeAntiao stayed with this group for several years, learning more dark magick and getting increasingly more mean spirited. Even with this new "family", DeAntiao still thought himself better and worthier. Eventually, even his brothers in crime came to be seen as holding him back. DeAntiao knew that if he was to be the great warlock that he envisioned was his birthright, then he would have to make it happen. He wasn't born the richest, the strongest or most powerful but he knew he had what it took to take those things from others.

Roberto DeAntiao struck out on his own. His twenties were spent honing what magick skills he had and making connections. He got the reputation of being ruthless and without remorse or a conscience. He learned that playing the "average guy" made people underestimate him, giving him the upper hand. He always portrayed himself as being less confident and skilled than he really was. He learned the art of blending in, being able to disappear in a mass of people merely because he wasn't noticeable. He was always in the shadows, for he knew the greatest power, in all aspects of life, government and religion was yielded by unkowns behind the scene.

He wasn't a "pretty boy;" just an average man with average looks. That suited his desires perfectly. It leant to his ability to be latently ruthless and mean because he was never viewed as someone who looked like a "thug." Being able to be, in effect, invisible in a crowd was one of DeAntiao's greatest naturally born gifts. He relished his anonymity for he knew it was the way to get power without having constant battles to keep it. He took comfort in knowing that when he chose the time for the world to know who he was, it would be too late to stop him. He would have all the power he needed.

The man also knew that the truly powerful weren't merciful; they ruled and lived with total selfishness, living by the canon of "eat or be eaten." DeAntiao lived that out as his motto. The older he got, the more heartless he became. He killed his first person at age twenty-four. It wasn't his last by a long shot. In fact, that initial kill made him thirst for more. It brought back the memories of torturing cats and suffocating dogs as a child.

By the time DeAntiao went to Brazil to make his mark, he had turned into a monster. One bubbling under the surface of society waiting for the time to explode. But he still looked like the boy next door. The kind of guy any girl or boy would be pleased to take home to meet mom and dad. Even after all the death and destruction he'd already faced and caused, there was still nothing imposing about the man from the outside. It was his black heart and soul that, if it could be seen, would have made one cringe. In Brazil, DeAntiao had finally decided he was ready to make his push for true power. Not being born mystically inclined, the man knew he'd have to get greatness the hard way; he'd have to barter, steal and kill for it. And he did.

DeAntiao spent a long period of time gathering greater power from other witches, warlocks and demons. He'd fight for it or kill for it, whatever was needed. His thirst for greatness had gotten so intense, the man was blinded by it. He had one goal – to be a powerful and feared warlock.

When he was told by an underling that the great Willow Rosenberg was in Sao Paulo, DeAntiao knew he'd hit the jackpot. "I get her and everything is possible for me…" Killing Willow became his obsession. He had her and Kennedy followed and started planning for her demise. "If I get a slayer too…all the better…" Roberto Jesus DeAntiao thought he'd mapped out the perfect plan.

His defeat by Kennedy at the music shop during Carnival was the worst crushing blow in his life, in many ways. The utter obliteration of his powers, those he thought were so strong, humiliated the man. His dream of greatness as a warlock was trampled. What Kennedy was able to do to him in mere minutes made him feel like the insignificant speck of a man that he'd fought a lifetime to deny. All his thoughts of grandeur, his plan of hidden supremacy came crashing down on him that night. One night, one fiercely brief encounter, had changed the course of a life time. In his mind, defeat by two women, regardless of their powers, was also a humiliation; to be outsmarted by a vampire slayer was a disgrace. His inability to kill the mighty witch ate at his psyche and even the thought of the two left a bitter taste like bad medicine.

The mental beating was not the only blow to the man. Kennedy had also physically put DeAntiao near death. When the slayer departed with Willow in her arms, she left a man barely clinging to life. DeAntiao lay on the cold store floor for ten hours before he was found. He hardly had a heartbeat and was nearly in cardiac arrest from the loss of blood. He had massive head injuries. His skull had been fractured in several places, the worst being on the right side. His face had thirteen fractures to the bones. His eyes had received so much trauma that one had literally detached from the occipital nerves and couldn't be saved. The other had numerous contusions to the cornea and only retained about fifty percent use. The nerves in the man's face had been damaged causing a slouching of the muscle tone, much like that of a stroke victim. The jaw had been broken so badly that it had to be reattached with numerous screws; even then it still couldn't be set right. Lastly, DeAntiao had numerous teeth broken or gone. His mouth looked like a line of old broken fence. Kennedy had literally beaten the man to a bloody pulp.

In total, Roberto DeAntiao underwent six operations to get him to the point of looking like Frankenstein. There were more planned. He was hideous, but "at least you're alive" the doctors told him. Many times after his beating, he had wished he was not. "Things will be better…this won't be how you'll look…" the nurses said trying to keep his spirits up. But DeAntiao couldn't stand to look in a mirror. It was obvious to him that he would never be the man he was. "You must give it time, Roberto…plastic surgery can do wonders," the hospital personnel said time and time again. He knew they were lying. The one thing he cherished was his anonymity and plain presence, his knack for not sticking out in a crowd. It was how he'd been able to get as far as he did; it was how he planned to get farther. DeAntiao saw his plain appearance as his one true gift. That was gone now; it had been beaten out of him by the slayer. Everything he had, everything he had worked for was lost at the end of tanned fists.

DeAntiao unexpectedly left the hospital as soon as he was able to eat and walk on his own. One morning the nurses found only an empty bed. He rejected the surgeons' plans for continued operations and skin grafts. Nothing they could do would make him blend into society any longer. He had lost his invisibility and that was all that mattered. He didn't care if his condition would worsen without proper medical attention. Kennedy and Willow had made him into a prisoner of the dark so he decided he would live as one. The light of day would be his enemy, people his poison. DeAntiao decided to become a creature of the night, to live among the monsters and demons that consider the night their parent.

The man was never without pain after that night with Kennedy and Willow. His body grew frail and hobbled from his inability to nourish it properly. His injuries never truly healed. He didn't care; he no longer saw himself as a real man. His heart turned as ugly as his face. DeAntiao's life had been ruined in every way…and he placed all the blame on the witch, for not giving up her power, and mostly the slayer for having stolen his life.

His hatred for Willow and Kennedy and what they had done to him grew with each passing day until it was a festering sore that controlled his every waking thought. He wanted nothing from life but to wage revenge on the two women.

Once he left the hospital, he started his plan for revenge. As much hatred as he had inside, DeAntiao knew he'd need power…lots of power to kill the witch and slayer. The madman began to make inquiries about ways to get it. He was willing to do anything to get the power needed. It didn't take too long for him to meet Ge'kuiv, a barter demon. Unknown to Deantiao, the demon was really the First. DeAntiao ultimately bartered his soul for the thing that would give him the power needed to defeat his foes. He was given the amulet of the Eye of Scrombes.

That piece, made of something not stone or glass or bone, was the clinchpin for DeAntiao's success. The Eye was for the longest time in history past thought just a myth, a make believe story told to demons and evil mongers the way children are told fairy tales. But then hundreds of centuries ago, the amulet surfaced at the time of a great battle between the forces of Good and Evil. The Eye could be described as the dark side's "ringer"; a piece with such enormous energy as to tip the scales in any fight.

The amulet was said to have been made from the restless souls of a millennia of demons. The Eye was an all powerful tool, a vessel for the 'sight', a leash for the disobedient and a passport for the interdimensional traveler. With it, demons were at the holder's beck and call. It could create portals and exert mystical brawn. The amulet had been used by evil to try to outdo good, to bring the righteous to their knees and ascend the keepers of evil to victory.

It was used in many a horrific battle until its disappearance in 203 A.D. There was an exceptionally bloody clash between the fighters of Good and Evil, and the amulet was said to have been stolen by a righteous pious village spinster.

Story has it that the woman, known for being quite and reserved, overheard the townsmen discussing the up coming battle and in particular the dangers possessed by the Eye. The men were warned of the great darkness held by the amulet and the need for its capture. The sole piece of information that the men had regarding the thing was that only the truly evil or righteous could touch it. The amulet was born of the extreme and only the extreme could possess it.

The men went off into combat. The women of the town cowered in the church, listening to the battle around them being waged by forces that had come from lands all over the globe. They waited for signs that their men were winning for they knew the outcome if they did not. The war raged for days, the sounds and cries ever present and unrelenting.

Then from nowhere, there was quiet. The women folk thought that good had triumphed, but then they heard the slow wailing screams from their townsmen. No longer were the sounds of a battle waging but of the defeated howling in agony to their deaths.

From over a hill top, the pious woman saw a solitary figure, crawling to the church bloodied and beaten. The woman, defying her sisters' pleas, ran to him. With dying breath, the man told of the inevitable defeat of the righteous. "The only chance is to get the amulet…we are not worthy enough…" The man died in the woman's arms.

The pious woman didn't return to the church. She would not let her brethren die alone; they fought for her life as they did their own. She knew she owed them her last dying breath taken by their side fighting as they were. The woman ran to the scene. It was the most gruesome sight she'd ever envisioned. Corpses lay everywhere; heads detached, entrails gutted from their bodies.

As she watched the still standing warriors fend off their attackers, the woman noticed a small elf-like child off to her right under a tree. He was holding a box. It was as if the child was in a trance. As she got closer, she could see that the figure was no boy. It had the face of a monster and the body of a demon. The woman could sense power from the box. It seemed to be radiating energy to the war mongers.

Something told the pious woman that the box contained the Eye and that the 'boy' was its keeper, its protector. This was the moment for victory, of that the woman was certain.

There was an instant transformation. Instincts the woman never knew she had took over and the woman stealthily went behind the creature. She was so quiet that the thing never knew she was there.

At that moment, a feeling rose within her. She felt a rush of heat flow over her. What remained was a sense of energy building in intensity. The woman could feel the power dripping from her fingertips; it filled her completely. Never had she experienced such a feeling of pure raw power. It seemed at home in her. The woman instantly knew she was touched by some invisible hand of the mystical. Every inexplicable feeling she'd ever had, every object she'd been able to mysteriously move just by thinking, all made sense now. Her baffling ability to hear others' thoughts and see the future weren't burdens borne of evil as she'd been taught in church. They were gifts; they were her. The woman realized she was no common woman; her mystical powers had been fully awakened…and they roared.

Without having to think, the pious woman visualized her power concentrating in her hands. Then in one swift move, the woman lashed out her arms. A glistening stream of electrical charge flew from her fingertips and hit the keeper with the force of a hundred men. The creature went flying dead and the box sailing into the air. With the grace and swiftness of a gazelle, the woman turned toward the box and thrust one hand toward it. The box stopped in mid air. She gingerly walked to it, placed her fingers around it and plucked it from the air. The woman quickly opened the latch.

There before her was the Eye of Scrombes. She slowly reached in and touched it. She could feel the power radiating off it; she could sense the negative energy held within. She picked it up out of the box and held it tightly. Being the believer that she was, the woman prayed to the heavens to end the battle and bind the power of the Eye.

As soon as the last word was out of the woman's mouth, the furious battle stopped. The warriors for evil vanished or were defenseless to the townsmen's swords. The battle that had raged for days was over in a matter of minutes.

The remaining men gathered around the woman. They understood what they were seeing. They were in the presence of righteousness touched by purity.

The rest of the story was quite predictable. The woman, with Eye in firm grasp, was sent to a secret location in order to hide the piece from ever being found by the dark side again. It was kept in secret for hundreds of years and at some point the rumor was that the Eye had been destroyed so that its powerful forces could never be used again.

Obviously, the rumor turned out to be as accurate as a drunken man trying to repeat the alphabet during a sobriety test. The amulet survived and somehow ended in the possession of the First. When DeAntiao came looking for mystical power to defeat Willow and Kennedy, the First was only too happy to offer up the Eye to defeat two of the very people who had only a few years earlier beaten it down.

The amulet was given to DeAntiao who wore it around his neck. It was the Eye that gave the man power. The ability to make the Feif-orey demon attack but not kill, to quell Kennedy's slayer powers at the grassy area and to open a portal and plunge the witch in it were all possible because of the Eye. It held the power to open and close the portal that Willow went through. It gave DeAntiao the ability to tag Willow on her neck with a muting device causing her to lose her magicks. The kettle and the power to sense Willow in her parallel dimension or Kennedy while in Cleveland were all due to the clout DeAntiao had only because of the Eye.

DeAntiao's plan had worked for the most part. He had been tracking the couple for several months. He had expected to put his plan in motion in Cleveland. The place wasn't important but the day was. The amulet was at its strongest during a hallowed moon. January 6^th was going to be the day wherever the couple was. Just as important was June 3^rd – the next hallowed moon. DeAntiao planned to wear the two women down, to turn them into emotional and physical wrecks during the time between moons. Then on the appointed day, he was going to kill the two women. The amulet and the hallowed moon would be the prizes for his efforts in addition to killing his nemeses. He would take power from them and the Eye. He would end his struggle with the strength he sought from the start. DeAntiao would become that hidden power he longed for in the demon world. "I look like one…I may as well live as one…"

The man's plans for Kennedy's and Willow's deaths included satisfaction to his twisted need for pain. He wasn't just going to kill them; he was going to open the portal and let them watch as the other died. DeAntiao wanted to see their eyes when they looked at their love being tortured to death knowing that they could do nothing to stop it. It was the moment he lived for now.

DeAntiao's plan had been progressing well until two days ago when somehow the witch and slayer made contact. He didn't know how it could have happened. DeAntiao wouldn't have known it occurred had he not happen to look in his kettle. What the man did know also, though, was that a new slayer had come to help the brunette. His sensing of Kennedy had filtered in another power. It would mean he'd have to be more careful, but he refused to give up on his plan in total. The taste for revenge had overtaken the man.

"I don't care what you do…I will kill all of you…" The confidence in DeAntiao's voice had a slight hint of doubt and fear. And rightfully so.

Much like Willow and Kennedy, DeAntiao didn't have a clue as to what was going to be thrown at him over the next several days.

It all made sense to Willow now. DeAntiao was using the Eye of Scrombes to keep her in a parallel dimension. She could only guess what he was doing to her slayer. The amulet was the key to everything. It was the man's power source, the only reason she was stuck in her make shift world. Willow knew that DeAntiao's strength was not unlimited; he was still a mortal and burdened still by certain laws of nature. He had to work through the amulet. It could not change him physically, just make him stronger in a mystical sense. It allowed the man to do spells and sense through dimensions. The Eye didn't make DeAntiao a superhuman. He was still susceptible to the errors of his nature. He was stoppable.

Willow knew her powers had been muted because of some spell or thing that DeAntiao placed on her. If she could reverse the spell or find the object, she'd be able to at least hopefully contact Kennedy if not travel through dimensions to her. This was still a two sided problem. Even if she could solve all her issues, she knew Kennedy had problems that had to be resolved at her end. DeAntiao was fighting them on two fronts and he'd have to be beaten on both.

By the time Willow had figured out who her tormentor was, it was late Tuesday. She knew she had to get to her room before any potential demons came after her. She hadn't come this far only to be eaten by some freak demon that was there only because her mind allowed it.

As she closed the door to her room, the witch realized the reason that her space was a sanctuary for her safety. She had willed it so. The spell placed on her by DeAntiao that brought her demons also gave her the safety of her room. It was her fortress. She remembered when she first woke up in her hellhole that she soon thereafter thought about going to the couple's hotel room. She hoped Kennedy might be there. All her mind thought was how safe she'd be if she could just get there and find Kennedy. "DeAntiao's spell must have made a sweep, or whatever it does, of my brain while I was focusing on that…" The same way that dreaming about Kennedy had brought her back to her room after the park incident, her initial feeling of safety connected to the room had made it so. When in that place, Willow was safe from harm.

Though she was filled with excitement that night, Willow tried to make herself sleep. She knew she couldn't really do anything more until morning and she wanted to be ready to keep on her mission. Willow eventually fell asleep that night hoping she would dream of a reunion with her slayer.

As she expected, the witch woke up early. It was Wednesday and she had work to do. She started to prepare things for Friday. She gathered the belongings that came with her back in January. Willow decided that she had to return in the same way as she had left. She wouldn't leave anything behind but she wouldn't take anything from her parallel dimension either. The redhead placed her cherished belongings in her beach bag and left it by the door where, like her, it waited for Friday.

She then also made sure her watch and the clocks she regularly depended on had the correct time. One slip that Willow made while she was in her altered state was forgetting about the time change in April. It took her two grassy area rendezvous before she sensed there was something out of place. She struggled to figure it out. Then one day, as she passed a Verizon Wireless store, she noticed an open cell phone plugged into an outlet charger sitting in the window. As soon as she looked at the panel screen, she instantly understood her recent unrest. The time on the cell phone was one hour ahead of what she had on her watch. Willow then remembered the change of time that always occurred in April. After that, the witch paid special attention to the time. She knew any return would be at the same time as her arrival – 9:50pm. The redhead also knew Kennedy would understand that also. Willow was determined to make sure that was never an issue.

After her chores were done around the room, Willow went and had breakfast then headed out to the beach, to the grassy area in the park. She knew whatever muted her powers had done it there. She retraced the steps her and Kennedy had made that night. She went over those several minutes with her razor sharp mind. "There's gotta be something I'm missing…"

This wasn't the first time Willow had replayed her actions. She had done it many times before; at night, in the morning, on a Friday. The witch had tried many different combinations of times or days to see if some spark of information would get through. It never did.

This time she walked slower and tried to remember every detail about that night. She thought of the lights from the hotels, the breeze off the ocean and even the bugs in the air. "This place has some of the biggest bugs I've ever seen" she said out loud. Willow remembered commenting to Kennedy the day of the incident how there were lizards, ants and big roach like insects all around. She told Kennedy how it was a lot like Sao Paulo.

"At least I haven't had to deal with those blood thirsty mosquitoes here." Willow recalled on how the night of her disappearance she'd been bitten on the neck by a particularly nasty one. As she remembered, the redhead put her hand to the spot on the back of her neck. She felt for the lump that had remained there after that night. It was still there. "At least it doesn't itch."

Then Willow stood motionless and thought about what she'd just said. That bite had never itched; it had only felt sore right when it happened. After she awoke in her parallel world she'd forgotten about for several days later. When she did remember and touched it, she still felt a small bump. In the months after that, she hardly thought about it.

"Wait…I don't really remember mosquitoes being a problem on the beach…We walked the park every night before that and there were no mosquitoes…" Realization came to the witch's face.

"That's how he did it!…It's the bite!" Willow stood there with a face of certainty. DeAntiao had put some mystical device or thing under her skin that muted her powers. The redhead knew what she had to do.

Willow ran back to her hotel room and straight into the bathroom. She reached into the shower and pulled out her razor from its glass resting on the side of the tub. She took the plastic razor apart so that she was only holding the small blade. Willow went over to the mirror and turned her head as far as possible so that she could just barely see the bite mark in the mirror. The witch inhaled deeply as she brought her hand with the blade up to the bump. Still holding her breath, Willow put the edge of the blade on her skin. She closed her eyes tight…and pushed the blade down and across her skin.

She registered the pain instantly and felt her blood trickle across her fingers. Once the cut was made, Willow placed the blade on the sink and put her finger back up to the wound. She knew what she had to do next would cause even more pain. The redhead moved her nail across the open cut and then pushed down into it. She let the tip of her finger search out the foreign object that she knew had to be there. It didn't take long for her to feel it. Willow dug her nail under the object, wincing from the pain as she did. After a few tearful moments, the object was dislodged and Willow lifted it out with her fingers.

The witch stared at the tiny object, hardly bigger than a microchip, for a few seconds before placing it also on the sink's edge so she could tend to her wound. She washed out the cut, and once it stopped bleeding, put antibiotic cream on it and then covered it with a bandage.

Her physical condition taken care of, Willow examined the small object. Once again, the ways of magick and the dark side captivated her. As she stared at the thing, Willow was amazed that such a tiny piece of metal or fiber, she didn't know which, could have produced the extraordinary affect on her that it did. She thought back to the Buffybot, Spike's chip and the countless other contraptions that the Scoobies had encountered over the years. Each had one foot in science and the other in magick or the occult. As much as she knew, Willow realized her knowledge of magick and the mystical would never be complete. She would always keep learning.

Having satisfied the "science gal" side of her, Willow took the object in her hand and walked out of her room and outside. She kept walking until she was at the edge of South Beach, in an area she rarely went. The redhead placed the item on the cement sidewalk. And then she crushed it with her shoe. It crumbled almost to a state of dust.

As soon as the article was destroyed, Willow instantly felt a surge of power rush through her. Her body felt like a glass being filled to the brim with liquid. It wasn't the same feeling as when the slayer spell went through her but it was close. All of the witch's energy that had been suppressed for months came forcefully back at a full run.

Willow felt like she old self again. She hesitated a moment to let the sensation sink in and become at home again. Then she turned and threw out her hands toward the ground. A crisp round ball of energy instantly shot from her hands and hit the ground with a small explosion.

"Now that's what I'm talking about…Watch out, the witch is back!" she said triumphantly.

Willow couldn't hold in her exhilaration; she began to jump around and yell. She'd periodically send out another energy ball or float an object to make sure everything worked. And it did. Her magick was back to full strength. She tried a few spells and found that they also performed as expected. Willow knew she was back to her normal witchy self. And she couldn't have been happier.

The witch realized all she had to do from her end was wait until Friday. She'd deciphered her pieces of the puzzle. Her only concern was whether DeAntiao would figure out what she'd accomplished and try to disrupt her plans somehow. She knew she still had to be careful; she wasn't out of the woods yet. But the redhead also concluded that she would overcome anything that may be thrown at her in the next tow days. She had to; it was the only way to get back to her real life, to Kennedy.

With the thought of her slayer, Willow got a smile on her face, then an expression of concern. Kennedy had to be told about the Eye and Willow knew she had to figure out how to tell her. Willow was certain that DeAntiao was still in the real world. She also surmised that the man was probably watching Kennedy more closely than her. It was Kennedy that had beaten the man to an inch of his life. Though she never saw the condition DeAntiao was in at the music shop, Willow could tell just by the way Kennedy had explained what she did to him that he was left in horrible shape. Willow was convinced DeAntiao would stop at nothing to seek revenge on Kennedy.

As Willow walked back to her hotel, she tried to determine how she could make contact with her slayer. Kennedy had to get the Eye and say the incantation in order for the portal to open on her side. "This guy is good…he thought things out…" Willow was impressed with the intricacy of DeAntiao's plan. It required action on two dimensions and couldn't be "fixed" by one person from one side only. This made Willow even more certain she needed to contact Kennedy.

By the time she entered her room, Willow had figured out how to reach her brunette. The witch couldn't wait. The connection had to be done as soon as possible. She sat on her bed and let her mind empty. "I hope I don't interrupt anything important…here we go, baby…"

Since Kennedy's discovery that DeAntiao was the one who had masterminded Willow's disappearance, the two slayers had been gathering more information. Buffy called Giles to see what he could find out about the man and precisely what the eye was. "We know it's kinda like a tunnel between dimensions and powers…but we need to know if it's really an amulet or maybe a ring…" Giles, who had gotten over his shock after being told by Xander that Buffy was on Kennedy's side, told the blonde he would do everything he could.

Though the women started preliminary plans for the upcoming bewitching hour, their main concern was trying to find DeAntiao. "You'd think he has to be close…unless he's where Willow is." That thought infuriated Kennedy; she couldn't stand the idea of that monster causing any harm to her girl.

Buffy, after contemplating the scenario, responded. "I don't think he's where Will is…why would he need to be?…he's got her in another dimension, probably where she can't use her magick…if she could, she'd have contacted you earlier."

That made sense to Kennedy. Then a look of concern came to her face. "But we connected…

maybe it was because she figured something out…ya know…maybe she has her magick back…if that's true, and DeAntiao knows that, then Will does become a threat to him…" Kennedy didn't like where this was taking her. "…maybe now he'll go after her where ever she is…she could be in real danger."

Buffy didn't want the brunette to get overly upset. She needed Kennedy focused and strong. "Kenne, relax…if Will has her powers back, you know she can take care of herself…besides, I still think this jerk is here…you're the one who pulverized this guy…I think you'd still be his main target."

After calming herself and deciding that Buffy was most likely right, Kennedy took the next step in their plan. She sent Buffy to find out where DeAntiao was hiding. Reconnaissance and interrogation had always been Buffy's strong suit. Besides, Kennedy wanted to do more research and wait for Giles to call. "I won't come back empty handed, I promise, Kenne." As Buffy walked out of Kennedy's room with car keys in hand, Kennedy jokingly said, "Hey, Buff?…be gentle with the car…it may be a loaner, but it's still a nice ride."

Once Buffy left, Kennedy had the first chance in several hours to take a deep breath and relax. The hours since her realization had been hectic. She could honestly say she was glad that Buffy was there to help.

The brunette reflected on her friendship with the one time only slayer. In the three years she'd known Buffy, Kennedy came to understand the blonde's attitude and the sacrifices she had made. Kennedy at times felt the crushing responsibility of being a slayer and she wasn't even alone in the business. She never had to worry about being the only defense against evil. She had always been able to put slaying to the side for a while if she so desired. She could take vacations, go to college and live a reasonable kind of life. These were things that Buffy never really had the luxury to do. It was only her for so many years. Buffy, with the weight of the world on her shoulders, had no one to share it with. Kennedy realized how strong Buffy really was to have dealt with being 'the chosen,' losing her mother, being resurrected and losing so many others that she loved. The brunette knew Buffy had also carried the burden of keeping Willow and Xander safe and held the guilt when they occasionally got injured.

Kennedy accepted she had her differences with Buffy; they'd had their run-ins. Some were because of Willow. Kennedy early on thought Buffy took the redhead and her power for granted at times. Other disagreements were because Buffy ruled with an iron fist. The blonde wanted everyone to accept everything she said just because she said "I know I'm right." Kennedy now understood where that unwavering surety came from. Kennedy had the same feeling about Willow being alive. Somehow she had just known she was right.

Since her and Willow's return from Brazil, Kennedy had also been witness to Buffy mellowing, relaxing and becoming more of the woman that was her true self. What Kennedy discovered was that when Buffy wasn't lecturing or contemplating the end of the world, she was quite funny and fun to be with. The three women enjoyed hanging out together on campus. After Willow graduated and started her job, Kennedy and Buffy continued to meet for lunch and even went to a few sporting events. Kennedy found out over time that she not only respected but also really liked Buffy.

Though the blonde drastically curtailed her slayer responsibilities, she didn't give up on patrolling altogether. The older slayer still went out to fight demons and helped when called upon by the watchers. What was most obvious to Kennedy was Buffy's knack at being able to get information from people, demons or whatever had information to give. The blonde had a way of interrogating that made Kennedy chuckle and the unfortunate recipient of Buffy's attention cringe. So Kennedy gladly sent Buffy out into the masses of Miami to get whatever tidbits there were to get. The brunette gave her the names of a few warlocks and demons to squeeze.

While Buffy was out doing her 'magick', Kennedy was taking a few moments to gather her thoughts. She was still waiting for Giles to call. She and Buffy had looked through all their resources and couldn't find anything that fit the parameters of their discovery. Kennedy began to wonder if they were really looking for just one object. Before she could get deeper into thought, the phone rang.

She received less than expected. Giles informed her that DeAntiao had in fact lived through her beating, barely. The watcher told her about the severity of the man's injuries. He had been in a hospital for several months and then left without notice despite still being ill. After that, the man disappeared from the face of the earth. No one had heard from or about the man since. "I'm sorry the news wasn't more, Kennedy…but we'll keep looking…someone's had to have seen him…and we'll keep on searching for what the eye really is."

Kennedy said thank you, good bye and hung up the phone. Even though they knew DeAntiao was behind all of this, the brunette knew they were no closer to solving the mystery. She began to wonder if they'd find the answers by Friday. She knew they had to.

The slayer got up from the bed where she'd been talking to Giles and walked around the room. She caught her reflection once again in the mirror. "You gotta find the answer, Kennedy," she ordered herself.

As she stood there, Kennedy began to feel slightly light headed and tired. She closed her eyes. The brunette couldn't tell how long they were closed; she seemed to drift off into an almost dream like state. When her thoughts came back to her, the brunette regained her bearings and opened her eyes.

The small stained glass vase Willow bought in Rio was the first thing she saw. It was sitting on the bedside table where it always had been in their Cleveland apartment bedroom. Kennedy thought she was still dreaming; she rubbed her eyes and tried several times to refocus but each time chocolate eyes told her she was in her and Willow's bedroom. She then felt a weightless quality to her body, like she wasn't really physically planted in the room even though she was standing there. She told her self again she must be dreaming, although it was a nice dream. She felt warm and safe. Then Kennedy heard the voice.

At the sound of those soft, sweet words, Kennedy turned around to see Willow standing by the wall next to the door.

Joyous exuberance, like seeing the face of God, that was the closest description of what Kennedy felt the moment she saw Willow. The slayer caught in her view that beautiful face and heard the wondrous melody that was her voice. She took in the sparkling emerald eyes, shimmering soft crimson curls and the smile that could melt the arctic ice caps.

"Willow?" That one word carried all of Kennedy's hopes from the last five months.

The slayer hesitantly took the few steps to bridge the distance to make her dream a reality. When she was close enough, the pain from months of being without her witch washed over her and Kennedy frantically went to embrace her witch.

The slayer's arms tried to wrap around her love. But they didn't meet a physical form. Kennedy's arms passed though Willow, as if waving her hands in the air and then through water. But it wasn't like Kennedy was of corporeal form either. With her attempted embrace of Willow, her arms also seemed to have had a ghost like component. But Kennedy did feel something there; it wasn't a mirage because there was slight resistance. The sensation the slayer got wasn't bad or even neutral. Kennedy felt a warm, inviting presence. She felt Willow was there with her in some way.

"Willow?" the brunette said again. This time, the word carried in it confusion and a hint of sadness that this was in some way still just a dream, mind games, and Willow really wasn't with her.

"Don't be scared, baby…we're here…we're here together…sort of." When Willow gave Kennedy a reassuring smile, the brunette's mind eased. Kennedy believed her witch.

The slayer took a step back and looked at her redhead with searching eyes. "What is this?…is it really you?…are you ok?…I've missed you so much…I love you…" Kennedy had a thousand thoughts to tell her lover. She really only wanted to hold the girl, but had to settle for wrapping the witch in her words instead of her arms.

"I love you, too…and this is real…just not in the regular sense…" Willow could tell her slayer was baffled, surprised and deeply moved by this event. Willow thought she had prepared herself for this moment, but seeing Kennedy, even in this make-shift setting, affected her profoundly. Willow was there able to talk to her brunette, that beautiful woman who'd become her life. Kennedy's hesitant call of her name made Willow shiver. The witch had had no human contact for five months and the first voice of reality was her love's – as it should be. Willow took in chocolate eyes, long flowing tresses and that arresting smile. At that moment, Willow wanted nothing more than to hold her slayer and be lost forever.

"Yeah…it's a long story but I have my powers back…" Willow wanted to take forever to tell her brunette of the last five months without her. But the witch wasn't certain how long they'd have and there was so much that she needed to tell the slayer.

"Kenne, I wish we could stay here as long as we wanted, but this won't last long…I need to tell you things…"

Kennedy knew there was a reason for all of this but she needed to know two things first. "Ok, babe…but where are we, and why can't I touch you?"

"We're kind of in a safe zone…I can't physically get to you or get you to me…but I could get us to a different plane…not us really but our essence…" Willow went on to tell Kennedy that what they were experiencing was not astral projection but an intense version of an out of body experience. Each woman's psyche had traversed to another plane of consciousness. Their bodies were back in their respective realities. "I'm not really here…what you're seeing as me is really what your mind wants me to be…and the same's true for me…"

Kennedy thought and then smiled somewhat seductively. "That can't be exactly true…cos you've got clothes on and you're not on the bed." Willow smiled as she slightly shook her head.

"I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten about me." It was said jokingly but Willow really was relieved her slayer was just as she had left her. "But now, I need to tell you what's happening…I know who did this…"

Kennedy didn't want to go into the events leading up to Buffy's arrival. She understood time was of the essence. "She's here, Willow…to help get you back…before that asshole does anything to you." Kennedy went on to tell the witch everything she'd deciphered about her dream. "…We know the eye is some remote to open and close the tunnel and power source…but we can't match it to anything…"

Willow then told Kennedy everything that she had unearthed of her disappearance. She told Kennedy why her powers had been muted and about the Eye. "It's in the Chronicles…the amulet and the origin of its powers."

Kennedy looked bewildered. "But I looked through that book a bunch of times…I didn't see any Eye thing."

"Kenne…I don't know how to explain it…but I was remembering everything I could about the eye from your dream…and somehow the Chronicles showed it to me in my head…but there's more…"

Willow then proceeded to tell Kennedy what the Chronicles had showed her about the Eye. After the pious woman obtained the amulet and was sent away for protection, she and the piece were guarded against any one seeking the amulet. After her death, the Eye remained in the protection of anonymous warriors. It was hidden and never talked or written about. Over time, the existence of the amulet itself became a matter of speculation. The object was powerful enough to be kept from all eyes, the righteous and evil alike. Part of the reason for the disappearance of the amulet was its allure. On several occasions, the thing had almost corrupted the forces of the righteous watching over it. Mystics had come close to falling into evil's grasp due to the shear magnificence of the dark power it possessed. It had been decided by its keepers that the object was too dangerous to civilization as a whole and that no one was safe from its lustful pull. It was hidden from all and never talked about again.

"That's why there's really no stuff written on it…it was supposed to be kept from every one…even good people…The passages in the Chronicles were there as a last resort kinda thing."

Willow then told Kennedy about the information she knew that her slayer would need now.

"The Eye isn't all powerful though…the first girl who stole it from the bad guys…was a witch…she said an incantation that stopped its energy…that spell's in the book."

Kennedy couldn't believe what she was hearing. The wealth of information Willow was giving her came from a tome she'd read numerous times without ever seeing the passages. Willow saw that her slayer was bewildered.

"I know this sounds weird, but it's true…the book only let's some of its secrets known to a very few…I must be one of those…but it's there…and I've told you…so if you look again, I'm telling you, you'll see it now…"

Kennedy believed Willow; she just couldn't believe how truly amazing her wispy redheaded witch really was. "I believe you, Will…so now I just need to find DeAntiao…I haven't had any luck getting any info on a new bad guy in town…I thought maybe he might be going after you."

Willow heard the concern in her girlfriend's voice. "No, he's not where I am…he didn't need to be…" Her voice trailed off.

Kennedy felt her worry for Willow increase. "Why'd he do this to you…I'm the one who beat the shit outtuv him…he shoulda sent me away…" Kennedy would have traded places with Willow in a second if possible. She dreaded thinking of what her girl had been going through.

Willow looked at her intensely. "I think he knew he had to send me…he knows you can kill him face to face…but I could do it without even being near him."

Kennedy smiled and said sarcastically, "You mean he's more scared of a little witch than a big bad slayer?"

The witch chuckled. "I think he needed you close to keep an eye on you." Willow knew there was still much to tell Kennedy, so she continued. "You've got to get the amulet…"

Willow then went on to tell Kennedy about how DeAntiao got his powers from the amulet. "It's the source of everything for him…take it away from him…and he's back to being a regular guy…" The redhead told the brunette that with the amulet, the man could probably cloak his whereabouts. "And he can most likely tell where you physically are…" She told Kennedy that if she got the amulet then the events could be reversed. "Say the incantation in the Chronicles this Friday and the portal will open…I'll be waiting on my end to come back…"

With those last words, Kennedy got a feeling of elation. Her Willow was coming back to her. The event she'd waited five months to see happen was two days away…if she could stop DeAntiao.

"If he's cloaked, how do we find him?" Kennedy could taste Willow's return; she couldn't let her witch down.

"Good thing you asked…I just happen to know a few spells that should take care of that problem…" Willow then proceeded to tell the slayer of spells that would allow her and Buffy to sense through DeAntiao's defenses. Another would put an aura, akin to snow on a tv, around them to hopefully interfere with the man's ability to sense them. The last was a potion that when thrown on the man would slow and lessen his powers to a degree. "It's kinda like what he did to me…I don't think he'll be able to come and go as he pleases…"

After Willow had given all the information to Kennedy, she stood silent. She had been without Kennedy for so long and yet, being there with her, even if not real, was still the most uplifting feeling she'd had in a very long time. Even though they were discussing plans to do in yet another evil presence in their lives, the conversation felt so familiar, like they were cuddled on the couch talking about nothing in particular.

Kennedy saw the far away look on the redhead's face. "You ok, Willow?" she said softly. The brunette knew her girl had taken an important leap with this latest event. She'd unlocked the mystery of the slayer dream while living through god only knew what. Yet, Willow remained strong. Kennedy knew that the witch had now placed herself in even more danger. If DeAntiao realized that Willow had her powers back and had given up all her information, the woman would in serious danger.

"Will?…is there anything I can do?…he may come after you now…are you sure you're gonna be ok?"

Willow took in the words and the sentiment in which they were said. She knew Kennedy worried for her safety; she did also. But she had a feeling all would be well. All the past horrors and worries and dread were behind her. She and Kennedy were in this together and she had faith the slayer would carry the day.

Thinking about their life and all that they'd shared, Willow gave the most honest answer she could, "With you and me on this…I know I'm gonna be ok…Don't worry, he doesn't know about this. Your body and power are still in South Beach and I'm in my room which is safe."

Both women looked at each other; they knew they were coming to the end of their encounter. Neither wanted to be the first to say it; neither could bring themselves to leave. They were inches from each other; so close and yet dimensions apart. They both felt the ache to hold the other, the frustration that an embrace was beyond their ability. Kennedy was the first to speak.

"God, Willow…I've missed you so much…I…I…" Kennedy didn't know how to tell her girl that her life had been an empty shell, that she'd been nothing without her. Her voice started to crack. "…I just want you back…I need you back."

Willow's eyes welled up for she had the same crushing feeling inside. "I've missed you, too, baby…I didn't know if I'd see you again…I've felt so lost without you…"

The women were saying everything they felt, draping each other in their most heartfelt feelings. Five months apart, agonizing over the status of the other had taken its toll on the couple. They desperately wanted to be in each other's arms where they both felt safe and loved.

Finally, Willow could tell it was time to part. She put her hand out as if to touch Kennedy's face, then leaned in instead. The brunette responded in kind as she gazed into emerald eyes. The witch and the slayer melded in an ethereal kiss. There was no physical union of mouths, but an overwhelming sense of the warmth from their beings. Their essences mingled together like brushstrokes in watercolor. After they had filled their immediate need, Willow drew back. "It's time to go…see you on Friday?" The witch said smiling.

As Willow started to turn to the door, she quickly glanced back at Kennedy and added, "Say hi to Buffy for me."

As quick as a flash, Kennedy's eyes were closed again and she had a sensation of floating. Just as quickly, she felt like she was off balance and opened her eyes.

She was back in her hotel room, standing in front of the mirror right where she'd been when she first left for Willow. The return brought sadness. She was without her witch again. Even a non corporeal Willow was better than none. Kennedy then remembered that she'd have the real thing in two days. With everything Willow had told her, the brunette was certain her and Buffy would bring her back.

With the thought of Buffy, Kennedy glanced over to the clock. It was almost 9pm. Kennedy wondered where Buffy was and if she'd been back and tried to contact her. She decided to go to the blonde's room. As she opened the door, she saw a very serious Buffy walking out of the elevator.

As the blonde slayer exited and turned to go to Kennedy's room, she looked up and saw the slayer standing in the doorway.

A smile beamed across Buffy's face. "Hey, Kennedy…wanna go see an old friend?" she said sarcastically.

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Parallel

by LilBit

Copyright © 2005

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