Author: LondonGal58
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: The characters of Willow Rosenberg, Tara Maclay, Buffy Summers, Xander Harris et al, are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy productions. The setting for the story is within the Bladerunner universe, created by Philip K Dick and later put onto Film by Ridley Scott. They own 'em and I hope they don't mind me using them for my own purposes.

Willow was panicking, there was no other way to describe the redhead's frantic movements around her apartment.

"Damn it why does no one listen to me when I say DANGER!" She had paced. She had tried to access Tyrell's network from her home terminal. A long shot she knew, no large corporation was that dumb. Willow needed her Hack bag, and she wasn't stupid enough to leave that lying around her apartment in case of a raid. It would take her an hour to have it couriered to her, and if Tara & Buffy didn't show in the next 30 minutes, she was going to get that bag and use it to find answers. After which she would cause so much damage to the Tyrell network , no one would be able to purchase a paperclip, yet alone use it to harm Tara or spirit her away.

"Calm down me." Willow finally sat down on the couch and tried to convince herself that Tara was fine, she was with Buffy. But if Buffy became convinced Tara was a replicant, no one would be able to stop her. Willow had heard the stories; she enjoyed the tales of stakeouts and chases through NSF's streets with the inevitable end a win for the Bladerunners. The odds were stacked in their favour, always had been. They had resources, and above all time, no one could remain undetected in the modern age for ever. You had to travel, sleep somewhere, or eat. All requiring one thing money, and usually that was how you traced someone, getting a new identity was an option but that cost more than most people had, an option for an elite few who had the resources and the contacts to start anew.

"Giles!" Willow shouted.

"Giles Rupert; Willow do you wish to Voice call, Email, Video mail, Instant Message, GPS trace, Send credit to, access latest Blog entry, advise of medical situation, send favourite music tracks to, or send itinerary to the listed person," the computer enquired.

"Locate GPS."

"The transponder for Rupert Giles #14587264/489 currently locates Mr Rupert Giles at 456 Elmwood, London, 78961/4566 heart rate currently indicates he is asleep with REM sleep indicator's. Do you wish to wake the individual?"

"Yes urgent transponder vibrate level 6."

Moving from the couch back to her computer Willow waited for Giles to wake, which if Level 6 was what she thought it was wouldn't be long.

"Beep" "Incoming com's from Rupert Giles audio only."

"Answer audio level 4 computer," Willow hurriedly composed herself.

"Willow I must insist you don't use anything above a level 3 unless you intend to send me to meet the Thetan's earlier than I would wish," A complaining English accent bellowed.

"Sorry Giles, you should set a limit on it, us Americans aren't used to your internal trackers." Willow smiled at the thought of a sleeping Giles being violently woken by the nearest thing to an aneurism someone could have without actually dying.

"Yes, well most people are respecters of the concept of sleep. I take it you must need my services urgently."

"Yes Giles I do, I need two people to disappear for a bit while I figure something out, it's me plus one," Willow sheepishly replied twirling an errant pen in her hand, that she had absently picked up.

"Willow who have you upset? You're usually so careful, that why I like to use your services on occasion."

"It's not me that's upset someone, well not enough to have to skip town anyway. It's a friend; she needs to lie low, totally under the radar. In fact a completely new identity wouldn't be a bad idea; you know ID papers, Birth registration, and residency permit."

Silence.

"Willow you know that stuff's not easy, even for a man of my talents and resources. When does all this need to be in place and more importantly. I'll only be able to set it up for London and not the pleasant part either."

Slumping slightly in her seat Willow considered Giles less than heartening news.

"I'll need to get back to you with details, I just wanted to start the ball rolling, and more importantly know if it could be done."

"Of course it can be done child, it'll cost me about £50,000 for both of you, and take about a week."

"That's about 125,000 US right?" Willow quickly calculated in her head, amongst a rapidly growing list of things she would need for her plan.

"That's right, if you don't mind me asking? I'm not getting myself involved in anything dangerous to my health am I."

"It's messy Giles, to be honest I don't know what's behind this at the moment, have you heard of the Tyrell Corporation?"

"Yes of course my dear. Nasty business they're in, gives me the creeps to think what old Tyrell got up too. They messed with the very concept of humanity."

"Well I think they're up to something and my friends in the firing line."

"In that case, you need say no more. I'll wake up my contact now and get him working on this full time."

"Thanks Giles, can you try and look for a suitable safe house too, with at least a T15 network connection, ohh and once again thank you. I'll owe you a lot, be prepared for some majorly embarrassing displays of affection when we arrive."

"I'm sure it goes without saying Willow, you, and your friend, sit tight and keep safe until I can set up all the arrangements ok."

"Will do Giles."

"See you soon my child."

"Beep"