Willow lay awake, listening to Giles’ breathing. All her fears were being realised. Would The Watchers send someone else to try to kill Giles? They had nearly succeeded, if Gorgon hadn’t come to his rescue… she turned over, it didn’t bare thinking about!

She felt so helpless and alone. She swiped at her tears. She must be strong for him. Sniffing in the darkness, she turned again and saw his eyes glistening softly.

"Willow, don’t weep. We’ll be all right …." Giles’ voice sounded almost normal, his sentences slowly lengthening. He held out his hand in the darkness and she took it in hers. Her fingers brushed the bandage at his wrist and she felt his fingers tighten.

"Sorry, I’m sorry I wasn’t here Rupert." She sobbed.

"Shh, Willow. They would have hurt you, it wasn’t my time … and we have our Protector downstairs, though he doesn’t tidy up after himself," Giles saw her questioning look. "There’s a ton of breeze block in the bathroom!" He smiled, sighing as he heard her laughter. He had missed her; all the things he had missed colours, sounds, tastes, warmth, and sun, were linked to this extraordinary woman whom, he was fairly sure, would have seen off his attackers. Gorgon intervention or no, Willow would have found a way!

"Rupert, may I share your bed tonight?" she asked. Her hand was empty. She sighed. She had her answer, “too soon.”

"Willow, I can’t… yet." He turned on his back, staring up at the cracked ceiling. His eyes watered, unblinking. "I might still hurt you. Until I can be sure… Willow?" He turned his head, reaching out with his hand once more, he encountered her finger–tips.

"OK, Rupert. Goodnight. Get some sleep." She was careful this time to be quiet as she cried herself to sleep.

Gorgon slept leadenly on a mattress on the floor. A backpack at its foot was the only other thing in his room. He needed little. A scurrying sound in the corner snapped his eyes open in the direction of the sound. The scurrying stopped abruptly, a smile played briefly on his lips, to be replaced by an expression of regret. ’Even mice are not safe from my gaze.’ He thought, but his head of serpents demanded their meat, however meagre. He himself did not eat, gleaning all that he required from his colony’s voracious appetite.

He knew that soon the serpents would demand more of his body. He needed a mate, one that could withstand his marble glare. He turned his head carefully so as not to disturb his slumbering symbiots. She only had to look for the blink of an eye. He was death in the blink of an eye! His sigh rumbled from his chest, stirring the rock that was once a mouse.

"Rupert, breakfast!" Willow called. He came to the table with a bed sheet wrapped about him like a toga. She smiled.

"Peel you a grape, my Lord?" Rupert gave her a lop-sided smile. She poured his tea, putting the teapot down with a thump as the doorbell rang. Willow grabbed a knife from the table but Giles stayed her hand.

"Willow, you going to butter them to death?" She looked down at the blunt knife gripped in her fist. "Assassins don’t ring doorbells." He supped his tea calmly. She replaced the knife and went to see who their visitor was.

"Gorgon," she smiled. "Come in, we’re just having breakfast. Would you like some tea?"

The monsters heart leapt when he saw her. She was so gentle, so delicate, like a flower. He followed her into the living/dining area.

"Rupert, it’s Gorgon." Willow smiled happily. Gorgon sat down and accepted the tea she offered him. As she poured she noticed that there was a stray serpent peeping from Gorgon’s hat. She lifted the band and tucked the juvenile reptile into the warm confines of the hat. Gorgon gasped with obvious pleasure.

"Willow!" Giles bellowed. "Don’t, venom!" He held his head at the sudden pain. A bright light spiked into his brain, highlighting volumes of memory, turning pages of references until he got to the cure for Gorgon venom.

"Rupert!" cried Willow in alarm. He looked as though he were in a trance, muttering under his breath. Gorgon’s hand on his arm roused him and he looked into the blessed creatures reflective glasses.

"I remember…" He smiled a child’s smile of wonder. "All of it so clearly… Willow the cobwebs are gone. It’s wonderful! We’ve got to get to the museum. My books and belongings are there. That’s where the Watchers sent them. I think the answer to who killed Buffy is there too, Gorgon, will you come with us?"

"Yes, of course. Mistress Willow, it is not wise to touch my head. The venom of the serpents I harbour is poisonous. I would not want to harm such a delicate bloom in any way…"

Giles chuckled. "Delicate bloom? Snap–dragon more like. She was ready to eviscerate you with a butter knife!" Willow blushed as both Gorgon and Giles laughed.

They exited South Kensington station and followed Giles to the staff entrance. He smiled at the guard behind the grill. He was an old man, but when Giles first knew him he was in his forties.

"Hello George, long time. Could you let me and my friends in to check on something?" The guard opened the door, muttering that he really shouldn’t but it wasn’t like Mr. Giles would blow anything up…

Once inside, Giles weaved his unerring way through the complex warren of corridors until he got to the internal stairs.

"Now, we climb. Several people have needed oxygen at this point. You OK, Gorgon?" The Gorgon threw an old fashioned look at the Watcher.

The climb was interminable. Rupert reached down to help Willow up the last of the steps. Her body pressed against his outside the small door of his office, their breathing heavy in the enclosed space. Gorgon waited patiently behind them, hearing the lovers’ hearts soar. Giles let go of her reluctantly and opened the door of his office.

"Watcher!" Gorgon barked. Whipping off his glasses, he rushed past them to cleanse the room of any threat. Willow was pinned once more to Giles chest. She freed herself this time and stepped into the room to see Gorgon’s eyes close. He groped for his fallen mirror shades. She bent to retrieve them for him. He had opened his eyes to aid him in his search. Willow gave them to him, he held his head gear in one hand. She looked up. The serpents on his head writhed amongst the bronze corkscrew curls of his hair. He lowered his eyes as he took his shades from her and saw her smile.

"Willow?" Giles sounded worried. "Willow!"

End of part 2

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