"Shirley Temple and O-Neg, complimentaries of the house." The human attendant brought the two drinks to the silent couple in the corner of the bar
as soon as they had sat down. The redheaded Wicca thanked the barkeep and looked over to the green demon onstage who had sent the drinks.

Angel sat opposite his small savior, still pondering what on earth had gotten into him just a few minutes ago. While Willow had seemed to all have
forgotten the Angelus-like encounter with the still-souled vampire, he himself could not let it slide. He caught a glimpse of her, looking at him with a
most concerned expression written upon her countenance. No one had ever looked at him with such care. Not ever.

And he felt so ashamed at how horribly he had treated the one girl who did.

Not just that day, and not even taking into account the frightening scene in which he had taken a part just moments before; rather, it was every
day they had been together, every instant he had spent with her, every time she had tried to talk to him. She would smile and ask him questions,
be sweet and accommodating to him, treated him like he was a real person worthy of such care—he would either tell her to shut up and listen to
him, or start prattling on about Buffy.

Never had he felt so guilty.

Now that same girl had been there again to save him, to comfort him, and to take care of him when nobody else was there to help. She told him
how much she cared, how much she worried about him and trusted him…Oh, how she trusted him. He had replied by nearly draining her in a back
alley—god only knows what he might have done after that.

He’s beating up on himself again, Willow thought. Back to Brood Boy again. Oh, well, she resigned, Better than back to Angelus again.

"Well, not speaking at all is better than saying mean things," Willow broke the previous reticence between the two, "so I guess the silent treatment
is a good." Angel only seemed to bow his head down lower in response.

Willow took an absent sip from her drink. "You’re not hungry?" she asked her companion. "I think they warmed it up all nice, at the right temperature
and everything." She watched Angel as he stared deeper into oblivion. She let out a long sigh. "Didn’t we just have this whole conversation about
you telling me what’s wrong?"

She shifted in her seat. "I know that there are a whole lot of things in that mind of yours that you don’t want me to know, either because you want
to protect me or you’re still closing yourself off. But I want to know, Angel, I want to help you. I may not be able to understand exactly what you’re
feeling, but I still want to try." She placed a soft, warm hand over Angel’s large, cool one. "Please, Angel—let somebody in for a change."

Angel looked up and stared into the deep, penetrating eyes of the girl touching him. He looked down again after seeing the care and love that was
in them, hardly thinking he was ever worthy enough to receive such a gift. He forced himself to look up again. No time for self-pity or loathing, he
yelled at himself, that’s just some of the crap you’ve made her listen to over all these years. Give her what she wants, he ordered, Give her what
she deserves to hear.

"It was so hard, Willow," he said, taking his other hand and using it to hold her smaller hands in between his two larger ones. "I-We were working so
hard, to find her. Darla. Wolfram and Hart brought her back, as a human. She had a soul, Willow." He looked at the little witch to see her full
concentration on him. "She was so lost…she didn’t know who she was anymore. And, just when I thought she’d maybe have a second chance to
save herself, like I did, she finds out she’s dying from the same disease that put her on her deathbed over 400 years ago."

He paused a moment, collecting his thoughts. He took a deep, unneeded breath and continued as Willow gently squeezed his hand to urge him on.
"We—just a couple days ago, Torr told me about this guy you could go to who has the power to save a person’s life. If I got through the three
tests alive, she’d live. If I died in the tests, then she died, too. …I would have given my life, Willow," he looked up into her eyes, seeing tears
mirroring his own. "I was about to. And—and after all that…" There was a long silence.

"…What was wrong with them? What happened? What, they didn’t do it because she used to be a vampire or something?" Willow wondered.

"Sort of. He—he said some crap about how she’d already been saved once, by Wolfram and Hart, and that…" he looked down. "That there was
nothing he or I could do."

"Oh, Angel…I don’t know what to say…"

"You’ve said enough, Willow. And I mean that in the best way possible." He reveled in the warmth of her hands, and found comfort just by watching
her, watching him.

"Thank you, Angel."

"For what?"

"For saying that. It makes me happy."

Angel felt guilty again, and Willow watched with some concern as she observed his inner thoughts play out on his countenance. "Willow?"

"Yes, Angel?"

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Of course!" Her tone lightened and she seemed energetic again, glad she wasn’t the one having to start up the conversation. "With ‘of course’
meaning that I don’t mind, as opposed to meaning that I would mind…but, go ahead."

He smiled at her energy, his first real sign of contentment, since when he couldn’t remember. He smiled because she smiled. "Why do you care about
me so much?"

"What do you mean, why?" Willow truly didn’t understand why Angel would even ask such a question. "Why wouldn’t I?"

"I’ve been thinking, just now," he grew an ashamed look in his eyes, "You’ve always been there for me, Willow, and I’ve never thanked you for it,
not once. Whenever I needed help--even though I never asked what problems you were dealing with at the moment--you’d be ready and willing to
help me, with a smile on your face. God, Willow--you gave me my soul! And what did I do? I might as well have spat in your face."

"Don’t talk about yourself like that," Willow said with genuine concern. "I won’t deny that we weren’t exactly best buddies in high school. But I
understood that that was just your way, you know? Like how the whole Cryptic Guy works out for you--I just took the whole non-interaction thing
as a part of your character. Besides, I think you were pretty wrapped up in Buffy at the time, so it’s understandable that you didn’t really spend
much time making small-talk with lil’ ol’ me."

Angel looked up at Willow with an almost offended look in his eyes. "Why do you do that?

"Do what?"
 

"Talk about yourself like you’re not as important as Buffy."

"I don’t do that," she said, shaking her head ‘no’ at the same time.

"Then why would you think I value Buffy over you?"

Willow was silent for a while. "Well, she’s Buffy. Guys have this tendency to fall in love with her."

Angel grasped Willow’s hands firmly between his own, holding them up as if to kiss. "Willow, you are the most amazing, most wonderful person I’ve
ever met. I can’t pretend that I didn’t love Buffy at one time--though I think I finally got over her just a little while ago—but hear me now: you
were *never* less important to me than Buffy, or anyone else, for that matter. I really care about you, Willow: I know I’m not the best at showing
it, but just trust me on this."

"That’s very sweet of you to say that, Angel, but really, it’s okay…"

"No, Willow, it’s not okay," he said to her firmly, sad that she didn’t believe his heartfelt assertion. "You are one of the most important people in my
life, maybe even the most important. No matter what kind of mood I’m in, or how illogical my thinking may be, you’ve always been there to set me
straight and show just how wonderful a person you are. Please, Willow: you did say you trusted me, didn’t you?"

"Of course."

"Then trust me now: Willow, I…I care about you so much. I missed you a lot while I was in LA." He looked down for a moment, appearing to hesitate
before making his next confession. "And, to tell you the truth, I thought about you a lot, too."

"You…thought about…me?"

"Yeah," He said with an extra breath of air and a nod, as well as a bit of a smile. "Just things…about you. Like, what an experience would have been
like if you were there, or what you’d tell me about some situation I had gotten myself into. If I was in a magic shop, I’d try thinking about what in it
you may like.

"Sometimes, I just sit and think about how things are going in Sunnydale at that moment—what’s happening, what demons you’ve fought. Or,
sometimes, I think what you’re doing just then… Not what prophecies you may be dealing with, but where you are, what you’re doing: if you’re
sitting down, watching Charlie Brown with Xander, or if you’re at home studying… I wonder about what you’re thinking, your daily pondering: like
when you were wondering about how sore thumbs really didn’t stick out at all—yeah, I was listening even then." He did sort of a half-laugh before
looking back up to gauge her reaction. "So, to sum up… I really do think about you, Willow."

Willow was caught off-guard by Angel’s disclosure. One minute, he hadn’t been saying a word to her, and the next, out came his heart and soul on
a plate for her to see and judge at will. She looked deep into her friend’s eyes, her mouth partially open to demonstrate her utter bewilderment at
Angel’s words. Were those tears forming in his eyes? They couldn’t be. Deep inside of her, she wondered what Angel’s words could really mean.

Were those tears forming in her eyes? Everything seemed so fuzzy. Angel, a man whom she’d cared for and about since when she didn’t know, had
opened up to her finally. She wondered if Buffy had ever been rewarded with such beautiful words.

Angel took the tears in Willow’s eyes as those of some unseen sadness, and immediately rushed to her aid. He gently used the back of his right
hand to brush the tears from her face. "Willow, what’s wrong? Have I said something…"
 

"No, no, of course not," she said, smiling through her tears. "It’s just… Those are the sweetest words anyone’s ever said to me, Angel. Thank you."
Angel took his hands to her mouth and gave them a sweet kiss, then held them to his forehead.

A long pause overtook them, neither one knowing how to re-start the conversation. Luckily, however, a tall green demon managed to start it again
for them.

"Hey, so how’re the little lovebirds doing?" Both Angel and Willow opened their mouths to refute Torr’s claim, but then decided to let the comment
go. Instead, the two unclasped their hands and pulled them as close to themselves as they could, losing the tender moment. The demon turned to
put a hand on Angel’s shoulder to address him. "Well, I know that somebody came here for something other than trying to punch me out."

"Oh, yeah—um, sorry about that," Angel answered quickly with a forced cough.

"Hey, I know the perfect way to apologize," Toth responded, winking at Willow, who smiled back. "How’s about you grace us with a little number,
selected by your little lady over there?"

"Um, no, I don’t think so…" Angel answered quietly. "Unless…Willow, did you want me to?" He asked with a sort of hope in his eyes.

Willow’s eyes widened at the choice Angel had let her make. He’d really do it if I wanted? She thought. "Um, well…you know, if it would help you
stop Darla and Drusilla…"

"And I could sorta do it as part of that long thank-you I owe you…"

"…So…"

"…that…"

"…would…"

"…be…"

"Great!" Torr finished the repartee between the couple. "So, Willow, what’s your—or, rather, Angel’s—poison tonight?"

"Gimme a minute," Willow thought, her brow furrowed.

Angel smiled watching her, then immediately reverted to his perpetual stoicism when he caught the green demon smiling at him. "Willow?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Be nice, please?"

"What do you think I’d make you sing, Neil Diamond or something?" She giggled at Angel’s embarrassed look. "Don’t worry. Cordelia told me about you
singing ‘Mandy’ when I called her tonight." Angel let out a breath of relief.

A few more minutes passed until Willow bounced up with an idea. "I’m sure I’ll think of a better one as soon as you get onstage, but it’s good
enough for now."

***

"Hey-a, all you guys, gals, ghouls and demons, we’ve got us a hot one on the grill tonight!" Torr greeted his guests with enthusiasm. "Here for your
listening pleasure, Angel, the vampire with soul, ready for a comeback into your good graces. He dedicates today’s number to his very special lady,
Willow." The demon smiled and winked at Angel, who returned with a half-dirty look.

Scanning the crowd and feeling the familiar sense of embarrassment that came hand-in-hand with singing on-stage, he felt his nerves settle a bit
when he made eye contact with the smiling face of the little red-haired witch in the front row. And so, calmed as such, he began with the song:

When the night has come

And the land is gone

And the moon is the only light we’ll see

No I won’t be afraid, no I won’t be afraid

Just as long as you stand, stand by me

He continued, starting off low, then raising his voice as he sung the chorus. Soon the crowd of gawking demons--whom he may have otherwise
been attacking anywhere outside of the club—they soon died away, the room dimming until the only person he could see was Willow, looking up at
him and smiling sweetly.

If they sky that we look upon

Should tumble and fall

Or the mountains should crumble to the sea

I won’t cry, I won’t cry

No I won’t shed a tear

Just as long as you stand, stand by me

By the middle of the song, the only eye contact Angel was making with anyone was with Willow, and by the end he was singing to her and her only.
He cracked a small smile for Willow as he sang, for once actually feeling comfortable as he grasped the mike. When the crowd added some scattered
claps, all he could see was Willow, clapping as if she had just watched the best show ever. He didn’t even realize he was done until Torr was
announcing the next singer and escorting him offstage.

"So, somebody’s got a second wind in him, huh?" the demon said, smiling.

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"About those two vampire girls wreaking havoc all over L.A.?" Angel nodded, just coming back into reality. "Come back tomorrow, first thing in the
evening."

"What? Then what was all that…"

"I just thought your lady friend would enjoy seeing how you’re doing out in La-la land," Torr replied with a mischievous look. Angel looked angry.
"And come on, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy it this time. That much was coming off you in waves."

Angel’s angry look subsided after feeling he had been found out. "In…waves?"

"Can we say, tsunami?" After a short pause, Willow went over to the two tall demons, smiling from ear to ear.

"That was so great!" She hugged Angel, then turned to Torr, shaking his hand. "Thank you so much for letting me see that! Oh, but you guys were
talking, and I just realized I totally barged in, and I’ll just take a few steps back now and go sip my drink…"

"No, Willow, it’s fine," Angel assured her. "We were just talking about getting information. Torr was just telling me that I’ll have to come back
tomorrow to find out where Dru and Darla are going next."

"But I thought…" Willow started, unsure of how to continue.

.

"There’s nothing either of you can do tonight; those two are done for now, and Angel here’s not in the right mood for killin’ anyway. Best if you and
him just relax, rest for a bit before you get ready for the big fight. My advice for now? Go back home, re-hire your friends, and apologize profusely."

"Sounds like a plan," Angel replied tersely. "We’d better be going, then."

"Thank you for your help," Willow said nicely.

"It won’t be the last time," Torr answered. "And it won’t be the last time I see you and him in here, either. Feel free to drop in anytime you’re in
town."

"Thank you, I will." She smiled.

With Angel’s hand on Willow’s shoulder leading her out, the two walked back to his car. Torr watched as they walked, Angel stopping after only a
few paces to give Willow his coat to keep her warm in the cool night air.

"Absolutely clueless," he said to himself.
 
 

***

Angel had finished calling Cordelia from his cell phone, who was fortunate enough to have had Gunn checking in at the moment. She promised to call
Wesley and get them down there to help research as soon as possible. Angel and Willow had returned to the Hyperion, where they currently sat on
opposite ends of the couch, facing forward while stealing occasional looks at each other. Several awkward moments had passed.

"So…"

"So…"

"I guess I should go soon…"

"I can drive you back to Sunnydale—"

"—I wouldn’t want you going out of your way…"

"It wouldn’t be that big of a deal…"

"But you’ve got the whole ‘Darla’ situation going on—"

"It can wait."

"But they might try to get Cordelia and the others if you’re not here to protect them."

"Oh, yeah."

"So…"

"So…"

"I’ll wait until tomorrow morning to go home. Safer that way, anyhow."

"Then I can bring you home."

"Angel, it’ll be daytime."

"My car has tints."

"And if I accidentally push the button that puts the top back?"

"That won’t happen."

"Angel, I can’t take that risk. You can’t take that risk. Besides, you’re needed here."

Pause. Angel thinking. "Willow…?"

"Yes, Angel?"

"Can—can I call you?"

"Of course!" Willow said with enthusiasm. "Angel, whenever you need help with something, or if you just want to talk, I’ll be there. ‘You just call out
my name, and I’ll come runnin’.’" She smirked after quoting the song she sung at Caritas.

Angel returned the smile. "Thank you. That means a lot to me." He inched a little closer to her, and she to him. They met in the middle of the
couch, and, the night’s antics finally catching up with her, Willow sunk her head down on Angel’s chest and closed her eyes, just enjoying being
near him. Angel played with her hair a bit before placing a sweet and chaste kiss on her forehead, then hugging her closer to him. Leaning his own
head over hers, he shut his eyes and rested. They remained in their fitful slumber until the first of the vampire’s newly re-hired co-workers woke
them up.

***

Drusilla sucked hard for the last drop of blood to come out of the lawyer’s body. She was engrossed as such when something struck her. She
dropped the body in her excitement and began to clap and bounce up and down, the sudden change getting her companion’s attention.

"What? What is it?" Darla seemed angry with being interrupted with her savoring of the last live lawyer.

"Oh, Grandmama!" Drusilla said, clapping. "Something new has happened to daddy. He has a new lovely for us to torture."

"Really?" Darla was at once intrigued, and dropped the long-dead victim to learn more about the new development. "Please share."

THE END
 

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