Author: A.j.
E-Mail: Willowygrl@aol.com
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel & Co. belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB Network. No copyright infringement intended.
Rating: PG
Summary: A dance begins.
"What?"
"Dance with me."
"You're insane, there's no music."
"*Dance* with me."
Shaking her head at the man in front of her, the woman extended her hand in curiosity. *What* was on his mind?
As he took her hand, she felt a shock. Something was.. weird. He started her in a simple two-step. It was easy for her to start, she'd had 5 years of dance. Sensing her underlying talent by her quickness to comply, he quickly picked up the pace.
And they danced. Slowly, methodically, they wound their way across the empty ballroom. The candles danced brightly against the shadows, keeping them at bay just enough. And they danced.
While they were here, nothing could touch them. The Hellmouth was invisible, people and places that took so much precidence out side this room just disolved. He. She. They. That was all.
One man, one woman, they slid lightly over the dull floor, somehow giving the faded opulance of this hidden room more... grace. In the steps they danced, time receded. Footfall by step, the minutes wound backwards until they were twirling around not in a decayed, dying place, but in a ballroom newly built.
She was the ackward girl, inexperienced, but knowing. He, the strong silent man, totally dedicated to her. She would never come to any harm in his presence. He would die first. She would do the same for him.
Unknowing, the separateness of the two slowly faded, leaving only one. Hands tangled and blended never letting off where one began. She was smiling at him. He was not, but he knew. She was *his* in every way as he was hers. Be it right or wrong, they simply *were.*
What started as a simple game was now deadly serious. Locked in a dance older than time, two beings recognized their counterpart. Unknowing and uncaring of the consequences to those around them, two souls were melding, never to be separate again.
"Angel...?" the woman/child whispered in confusion.
Shaking his head in wonder, the man responded with surprised conviction. He knew what was going on and he still didn't believe it.
"Willow."
"What's happening?"
"We're coming home." And then it happened.
He smiled. At her. Only her.
Bright and open, the smile started in his eyes, spreading down his face and ending with the revelation of bright white teeth.
She'd never seen him do this before. Sure, there'd been the occasional derisive snicker, or the surprised twitch, but never, *never* had she seen him... happy. And he was.
Shaking her head in wonder, she leaned back in his arms, unconciously changing the pacing of their feet. They were moving faster and faster, no longer dancing with the timidity of sudden impulse, but with the confidence and joy that was uniquely theirs. *They* were right and so was this.
Damn whatever was outside these doors. Here, in this place he was hers and she his. This was them. The way they were meant to be.
And she started to laugh. It pealed from her with the unbound joy only children and those blessed can feel. She was. The blessing came in the form of a 244 year-old vampire with a habit for gaining a soul.
He. Was. Right.
The End