Touch of Evil

AUTHOR: Amanda

Parts: 11 - 20

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~Part: 11~

Angelus arrived at the club just in time to witness Adrian and Willow's tryst. Though it enraged him to see another man with his hands all over Willow, he managed to restrain himself from taking any action before the time was right. If he allowed his rage to take over he would end up killing the two of them and then the fun would be over before it had even started. Plus, he wouldn't end up with his prize, and nothing- not even his own rage- was going to keep him from having Willow.

Angelus followed the two lovebirds back to their home in the Italian countryside, making sure he kept his distance so they wouldn't notice they were being tailed. He parked a discreet distance away and watched as they parked the car in the driveway, her Watcher lover clutching her to his chest as he carried her into the house. He spent some time looking over the property, casing it like a common burglar, before retiring to a secure location where he could wile away the daylight hours and work out his plans for the imminent reunion.

Willow promptly fell asleep on the drive home, barely stirring to consciousness as Adrian carried her from the car to the house and upstairs to the bedroom. Once Adrian had them both settled in bed, Willow instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and sank into a deeper sleep.

The dream began like all the others. Willow was late arriving home. Every light in the house was off, but that alone didn't alarm her. She often found herself coming home to an empty house, her parents either working late at their respective offices or out of town on business. No, an empty house wasn't strange to Willow at all- but a seemingly empty house when both her parents' cars were in the garage, well, that wasn't right.

Her heart skipping a beat, Willow dropped her bag and began to walk through the house, calling out for her parents. No answer. Willow turned towards the stairs as an object caught her eye. One of her mother's high heels lay carelessly discarded on the fifth step. Willow froze. That wasn't right. Her mother would never leave her shoe on the stairs. One of her biggest pet peeves was clutter. A Place for everything and everything in it's place- the mantra was practically burned into Willow's brain from birth.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Willow raced up to the second floor. Once she reached the peak of the staircase, Willow stopped. Despite the lack of any conceivable source, the hallway glowed with an eerie red light. Willow felt the bile rise up in her throat as she realized that the walls and ceilings were covered in blood. The walls were gushing blood almost as if bleeding from the inside, and the glow coming off it was luminescent. Every half second the blood would fade to the dull coppery color Willow normally associated with blood before brightening with unnatural luminescence. It didn't take Willow long to realize that the metronomic beat it followed was that of a beating heart. As the glow came faster and faster, Willow realized it was attuned to her own rapidly increasing heartbeat.

Running down the hall that now seemed endless, Willow tried to reach her parent's bedroom. Midway, blood began to drip from the ceiling like raindrops. Soon, Willow was covered in the sticky liquid, her hair matted down and plastered to her cheeks. Stifling a scream of utter horror and revulsion, Willow ran faster, trying hard not to slip on the red pool beginning to form on the carpet.

With a violent lurch, Willow pushed the bedroom door open and stumbled into the room. Moments later, Willow bent over and vomited on the once cream, now scarlet carpeting. Squeezing her lids shut in an attempt to block out the nightmarish image before her, it wasn't long before her eyes were stinging from repressed tears.

Taking deep, even breaths to keep herself from hyperventilating, Willow slowly pried her eyes open. Choking on her sobs, Willow pulled herself off the floor and staggered towards the bed. The pain she felt left her mind numb and unable to process the images before her. The scene played out in her mind like a tableau.

Their bodies had been grotesquely arranged in positions Willow had only previously seen in old black and white prints in some of Giles' more gruesome books. And the blood- there was so much, all over everything. Much more than could possibly have come from two bodies. Willow's eyes roamed over the room and took in with growing horror the various body parts strewn about as haphazardly as discarded articles of clothing. Her eyes settled on the dresser top and, before she knew it, she was bent over again, vomiting once more at the sight of the blood drenched human heart resting on top.

Willow began to scream and once she had started she found she couldn't stop. Her screams were being wrenched from her throat even as she threw up, causing her to almost choke on her own vomit. The screams kept coming until a hand covered her mouth and an arm as strong as a steel vice wrapped itself around her waist, lifting her off the ground and pulling her against a hard, solid male body.

When she was done screaming, he removed the hand covering her mouth and she gasped for air in between sobs. With his now free hand, he gently swept his palm over her hair, petting the wet strands with covetous joy. His lips placed soft butterfly kisses on the side of her neck, his tongue a gentle caress as he licked at the blood staining her skin. As he adjusted his hold on her, gripping her body closer to his, Willow felt his erection pressing into her lower back. She stopped struggling and allowed herself to slump dejectedly against her captor's body as a sense of doom settled into her heart. Deep down, Willow had known that he would one day recapture her. Her foreboding, combined with the horror of her parent's mutilated bodies before her, had sucked all will to fight out of the young witch.

He chuckled as he felt her body relax against his. He moved his lips so that they hovered besides her left earlobe, his whispered words raising the hairs on the back of her neck. "I told you I'd have you again. I've claimed you, and I take very seriously that which belongs to me. When something of mine is missing, I do everything in my power to get it back. You're mine Willow, and nothing you do, nothing you say and nowhere you go is ever going to change that."

Willow looked back at the bodies of her parents and felt the rage returning. Practically snarling, she retorted, "I hate you. I'll always hate you. The day you killed my parents is the day any attraction I felt for you died. No matter what you say or what you do, Angelus, I will never be yours and I will never be foolish enough to fall for your seductions."

She felt his body shaking with laughter. Suddenly, she felt his hand slip beneath the waistband of her pants and two cold digits stroke the warmth underneath. Horrified, Willow realized that her body had betrayed her. When he withdrew his fingers they glistened with the evidence of her arousal. Ashamed, Willow shut her eyes against the sight. She heard rather than saw Angelus bring his fingers up to his mouth and lick her juices off with a lascivious smack of his lips.

"Your body says otherwise, Willow. But to make you feel better we can play this game." Turning her around so that she was facing him, his fingers went to the buttons of her blouse. With quick, nimble fingers he undressed her. "You can deny it now all you want, but in the end I'll have you screaming my name as you cum."

When he entered her in one hard thrust a scream born from her soul escaped from her lips.

Willow was still screaming as she was shaken awake by Adrian. It took twenty minutes for him to calm her down, holding her tight against his chest as he tried to whisper soothing words in her ear.

Hiccuping over her sobs, Willow pounded her tiny fists against Adrian's bare chest. 'Why?! Why?! Why me, why did he do this to me? Oh God, When is it going to end? I just want the dreams to stop. Please, Adrian, make them stop." Breaking down again, Willow buried her face in his chest and cried.

Adrian's heart broke to see her like this. Before long he was crying along with her. "I would if I could, Willow. I'll do anything to protect you from him. As God is my witness, I won't let him get to you."

Adrian's words managed to calm Willow down a bit, though she continued to cry silent tears until she fell back asleep. Adrian remained awake, a rage burning deep inside his chest. The fact that he couldn't save her from this pain made his heart ache and his throat close around his own fury. He couldn't stand the idea that it was his demon, his body inflicting this torment on her. Everything that had happened to her was his fault. What right did he have to comfort her when he was the cause of her suffering?

"Oh my Willow," he whispered, stroking her hair lovingly. "Willow, aroon, I wish I could tell you everything. I'm just so afraid you won't forgive me, especially since I can't forgive myself. I just hope that when I do tell you the truth, when you realize who I really am, you'll know that I did it all because I love you. I love you so much that I'll destroy my own body, and with it the demon, to protect you."

He listened to Willow's uneven breathing, her sobs still plaguing her in sleep, and remained safe in the knowledge that she hadn't heard him. Vowing to one day provide Willow with the ability to have a peaceful, dreamless nights sleep, Angel allowed both his soul and the body it now inhabited to relax and drift off to sleep.

~Part: 12~

**To each other we'll be facing
By love we'll beat back the pain
we've found
You know
I mean to tell you all the things I've been
thinking deep inside
My friend
With each moment the more I love you
Crush me
Come on
Lady**

Crush by The Dave Matthews Band
 

Diffused, late afternoon sun spilled into the room from the huge picture window that made up the right hand wall of the villa's study. Willow found Adrian there when she finally woke. He sat in an armchair he had moved to face the window, his eyes closed as a peaceful smile played on his lips. Willow stood in the doorway, her heart expanding with tender emotion as she observed the familiar scene. The sunlight cast Adrian in a golden haze, making him look more angelic than usual. Willow always hesitated in disturbing Adrian during these moments. She felt like she was intruding on something intensely personal, something that came directly from his soul. He seemed to draw strength from the light, as if sitting there he was engaged in some kind of mystical transference with the sun. The joy he received from this simple act was akin to an infant's exuberant suckling at a mother's breast.

Deciding not to disturb him, Willow turned to leave, taking with her a portion of the peace infusing Adrian. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, halting her retreat.

Adrian rested his chin on top of Willow's head as she leaned back into him. "Morning… or should I say afternoon."

Willow sighed, reveling in the comfort of being held in Adrian's arms. "What time is it?"

"It's 4PM. But don't worry, I sent Lucinda to run the errands you wanted done, and she's already finished them all. That means there's nothing either of us needs to do for the rest of the day. So how does a quiet evening at home, just the two of us, sound?"

Willow snorted playfully. "You're just trying to stop me from dragging you to another club. And here I thought I'd converted you into a veritable raver."

Adrian's hands slipped under the satin pajama top covering Willow, stroking the skin of her stomach with the pads of his fingers. "Well, now, I didn't say I didn't like it. I'd be lying if I said last night didn't have its moments."

Willow grinned at the memory, though her cheeks did gain a bit of color. Last night had been a huge departure from her former self, and though Willow hadn't been the shy, reserved innocent of past for awhile, she couldn't help but pause every so often in wonderment at just how much she had changed in such a short amount of time. "If everyone back in Sunnydale could see me now they'd… well, they'd probably get a stake or try to depossess me."

Adrian couldn't help but join her in her light laughter. "I always knew…" He stopped mid sentence, mentally berating himself for almost making a foolish slip.

Willow tilted her head so she could look into Adrian's eyes, wondering why the rest of that sentence had died on his lips and why his body was suddenly so tense against hers. Before she could ask, Adrian seemed to snap out of it, his body relaxing against hers once again.

"I always knew the woman I fell in love with would be just like you. It doesn't matter to me if you're home and in bed by 10 or dancing all night at after hour's clubs. Whichever Willow you are, I'll still love you."

Willow melted at his words, allowing him to lead her back into the study and over to the couch. Once he was settled, Adrian pulled Willow down so she was laying on top of him.

They laid like that, cuddling and kissing, for close to an hour. These were the times Willow loved best. Laying with Adrian, wrapped in his arms, which were both strong and gentle at the same time. That was one of the things that made Adrian so special and made Willow feel incredibly grateful he was in her life. He had exactly the right mix of brute masculinity and gentle sensitivity. He was macho but it didn't stop him from expressing his emotions to her. Nobody had ever held her as gently as he, making her feel like some cherished possession while conveying both strength and protectiveness. If there was one thing in the world that Willow didn't doubt, one thing that remained stable, it was Adrian's love for her.

The kisses ranged in intensity, from quick, wet passionate open mouth kisses to slower, tenderer though equally passionate ones. Some opened like slow blooming flowers while others exploded upon impact, though each and every one raked Willow's body with pleasurable shivers of delight. Throughout it all they whispered endearments to each other, trying to convey with both words and physical contact all they were feeling.

During one of their lapses into contented cuddling, Willow began to feel playful. "Adrian?"

"Hmmm?" Unable to form words while in this blissful state, Adrian resorted to mumbling. Her next question caught him completely off guard.

"When did you first know you were in love with me?" Though her tone was capricious, Adrian could sense the serious undertone to her questioning. He knew women well enough to know that the question's answer would be a double edged sword. She was obviously looking for a very specific answer and the wrong one could bring undesired consequences.

Internally, Angel cursed. The question was all the more difficult to answer considering his present dual consciousness. As Adrian, Angel had only first met Willow 10 months ago. However, as Angel he had known her much longer and if he was going to be honest, which he had sworn to Willow he would always be (a hard promise to make considering their whole relationship was founded on one major secret), then that would entail telling her the whole truth.

For a moment, Angel considered it. He wanted to tell her from the very beginning, but something had held him back. He thought it would be easier to protect her if she hadn't known the truth. Plus, never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined Willow would return the love he felt for her. Perhaps if he'd known how far their relationship would progress, how deeply their bond would grow, he would have told her from the start. Now, Angel was too scared to tell her- afraid of the prospect of losing her.

Willow was still waiting for an answer, her body tensing as a result of his continued silence. Angel also knew her well enough not to continue keeping her in suspense, for fear she might begin to doubt things she had no reason to. Resting his palms on her cheeks, Angel lifted her face to his and placed a chaste kiss on her lips, deciding to be honest without revealing too much. "I knew I loved you the first time I saw you Willow, and even before that. I've been in love with you my whole life- it was only when I first saw you that I realized it was you."

Now it was Willow who couldn't find the words to express her feelings. Instead of trying she reached to pull Adrian's lips down to hers, reigniting the passion between them.

It took the couple close to five minutes to pull apart long enough to realize someone was knocking at the door. Growling from unfulfilled desire, Adrian lifted Willow off him and stalked out of the room towards the front door. Though Willow was just as disappointed at being interrupted as Adrian, she knew she was better at controlling her emotions. Therefore, she followed him to the front door in order to protect whoever was there, most probably Lucinda, from his wrath.

Willow found Adrian standing in front of the open door, his body frozen as if in shock. Curious, Willow stepped from behind Adrian and took in the petit girl standing before her. Caught off guard, Willow couldn't stop herself from shrieking. "Buffy! What are you doing here?"

~Part: 13~

**And I don't cry for yesterday.
There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world
I will learn to survive.**

~Ordinary World by Duran Duran~
 

"Hey Will, long time no see, huh." Buffy broke into a huge grin at the sight of her best friend. Before she knew it, Willow had stepped outside to wrap her old friend in a huge hug. Buffy returned the embrace with equal fervor.

"My God, Buffy, I just can't believe it's really you. It wasn't for the fact that all my dreams are actually nightmares, I'd think this was one."

Buffy winced at Willow's casual joking, but chose not to comment. There'd be time for serious talking later. Right now Buffy wanted to enjoy the reunion. As the two friends pulled apart, they each fell into a visual examination of the other, noting the physical changes time and circumstance had wrought. Buffy silently took in the hacker's half dressed, mussed hair appearance with a slight smirk. Her friend had done a lot of changing in the past year. She could tell, just from the tilt of her head and the way Willow held herself. This new Willow standing before her was one who felt completely comfortable with her body, exuding a confidence that was wholly feminine. The transformation from the shy girl Buffy had befriended all those years ago was startling, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

Willow's own eyes widened as she took in the numerous yellowish purple bruises covering the various parts of the slayer's body. "Buffy, what happened to you? And what are you doing in Italy? Is Giles with you? How did you know where to find me?" Once Willow started with the questions she found she couldn't stop. If Buffy hadn't interrupted, she would have kept on. There was just too much she wanted to know.

Buffy held up a hand. "Will, stop. Take a breathe. Now, how bout you invite me in, we eat a little dinner cause airplane food- not a good thing- and then I'll explain everything."

Willow was instantly remorseful. "Of course, how silly of me. Come in Buffy, I'll make you some dinner." As Willow turned to lead her friend inside, she almost ran smack into the momentarily forgotten Adrian, who was still standing frozen in the doorway, the expression on his face unreadable. Feeling flustered, Willow slipped into her trademark babbling. "I am such a doof, I mean, first I don't even think about how Buffy must be hungry and tired from the long flight and then I forget to even introduce you guys. I swear, sometimes I don't know where my mind is. You know, I'm just surprised by all of this… and there I go again, going off and forgetting the point. Adrian, this is Buffy, slayer extraordinare and my best friend. Buffy, this is Adrian, my angel in disguise."

Angel frowned slightly, his eyebrows twitching at Willow's coincidental, though incredibly apt, choice of words. Buffy, meanwhile, was busy giving Adrian an appreciative once over before extending her hand forward. "It's nice to meet you, Adrian. I've heard a lot about you- all good by the way."

Angel drew in a sharp breath, pulling himself together long enough to grasp the proffered hand and reply. "I've heard a lot about you too Buffy- the pleasure is mine."

Willow was too busy heading towards the kitchen to notice the exchange between the two closest people in her life, nor the look of pain marring Adrian's handsome features as Buffy brushed past him to follow Willow into the house. She paused to glance back at Adrian, who still stood in the same spot, his head tilted downward as he stared at something on the floor. Puzzled by both his reactions and her own feelings of déjà vu when she had stared into his eyes, Buffy made a move to speak. Her words died in her throat as Willow called to her from the kitchen, asking if pasta was alright since that there wasn't much else in the fridge, considering how they were in Italy and all. Buffy couldn't help but join in Willow's laughter as she headed in the direction Willow had gone moments earlier.

Angel closed the door but remained in the foyer, listening to the distant chattering of two of the only women he had ever loved. He felt his brows furrowing as he entered into what Buffy had always teasingly referred to as his "Brood Mode." Angel knew the two girls were probably waiting for him but he couldn't bring himself to join them just yet. His mind had yet to catch up with the evenings turn of events, and considering how numb he felt seeing Buffy again after all this time, he wasn't sure a few minutes alone would be enough. He wasn't at all prepared for the feelings seeing her again were evoking.

It was harder than he imagined it would be, especially considering she had no idea it was him. She had changed since the last time he had seen her, and those changes had shocked him even though they hadn't been entirely unexpected. It wasn't so much her outward appearance, which hadn't changed much beyond her hair color, which was now as blond as it had been when he'd first seen her. No, the changes in Buffy lay deeper than a new shade of hair dye. The changes lay in her eyes and in the slight hardening in the muscles of her jaw. The pain of her experiences had etched itself upon Buffy's beautiful face, robbing her of the playful, childlike innocence that had once defined her. There was no longer that fire in her gaze, that mischievous sparkle, which both time and circumstance had extinguished. In the end, it hadn't been the burden brought upon by her role as the chosen one that had accomplished it, but merely the consequences of his love. None of the demons and creatures of the night she had seen before had been able to affect the slayer or destroy her innocence, like watching the man she had once loved with all her heart and soul turn into the man she would now have to kill. Instead of dedicating herself in love to him, she was forced to dedicate herself in hate.

Seeing her again was opening wounds that had slowly but surely begun to heal, dousing him in a pool of self-loathing and guilt. Being with Willow, Angel had been blanketed in a false sense of security. He'd allowed himself some peace with Willow, losing himself in her unconditional love, so that she could heal some of his wounds. Now, face to face with the most glaring example of all the pain he'd caused and the mistakes he'd made, Angel could feel the wounds beginning to fester. Seeing the woman he had once loved more than life itself, whom he still loved and would always hold a special place in his heart, was throwing the new life he had tried to build into question.

It wasn't that Angel now found himself questioning his love for Willow. He knew with his entire being that she was the woman he was meant to be with, the other half of himself. No, his love for the two women was as different as night and day, neither one compromising the other. The love he now felt for Buffy was that of warm affection, a knowledge that she had been the one to open him up and tap into feelings that had been buried for over 200 years. The love he felt for her was such that he didn't want to hurt her, and finding out that he had never felt the burning depth of desire and love which he now felt for her best friend; that it had always been Willow for him though he hadn't realized it at first, well, that would wound her deeply. And wounding either Buffy or Willow was something he never wanted to do.

Angel frowned, knowing the only conceivable outcome to this was one or both of the girls getting hurt. Buffy because he had loved her too much but, at the same time, not enough to prevent her further pain. Willow, well, there were too many ways Angel could end up hurting her without meaning to that he felt guilty already. Strangely, the guilt felt right to Angel, as if he deserved it. After all, the feeling of living in a perpetual state of guilt was more natural to him that the state of peaceful bliss he had been experiencing the past few months with Willow. He was on familiar ground again.

Realizing he had been lost in his thoughts for quite awhile and was probably missed, Angel collected himself and entered the kitchen. Instead, he found the two friends seated at the kitchen table, plates filled with leftover pasta Lucinda had made the other night in front of them. They were deep in conversation, catching up on old times, and didn't appear to have noticed his prolonged absence.

Plastering a bright smile on his face, Angel took a seat between Willow, who immediately turned to smile back at him, her face radiating her joy. "Adrian, isn't it so great Buffy's here? I mean, it's just been like forever and now it feels just like old times, only without the supposedly unstoppable evil of the week that needs to be researched and destroyed."

Angel smile turned natural as he listened to Willow work herself up into one of her excited states which was always accompanied by her babbling and the cutest expression on her face. Angel reached over to grasp Willow's hand, giving it a loving squeeze as a surge of warm affection swept over him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Buffy wince when Willow mentioned the absence of an evil. A sense of foreboding colored Angel's mood as he observed Buffy unconsciously raise her hand to her face, her fingers lightly brushing a particularly nasty bruise falling across the right side of her neck and lower jaw line.

Trying to sound casual, Angel turned towards Buffy and asked, "So, what brings you to Italy? I hope it's a social visit and nothing more serious." The flash of emotion in her eyes confirmed the worry that had begun to take root inside Angel. When the silence began to stretch out, with Buffy avoiding both their gazes, Angel felt Willow's tormented realization that something was wrong. Her grip on his hand tightened while her shoulder's slumped in a sign of defeat, as if she had known that Buffy's presence was too good to be true, and trouble was always just around the corner.

"Buffy." Willow's voice, barely above a whisper, was markedly different from moments ago, all the carefree joy drained away and replaced by a grim resignation. The air in the room felt charged with tense emotion. Willow's voice held a quiet authority that forced Buffy to look up and meet her gaze. "Why are you here, Buffy? What's wrong?"

~Part: 14~

**My life closed twice before it's close, It yet remains to see
If immortality unveil
A third event to me
So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven
And all we need of hell**

**Unknown Source**
 

Buffy took a deep breath, collecting herself before answering. "Angelus knows where you are, Willow. He's coming for you, if he isn't already here." Buffy watched the news sink in like a stone descending to the depths of a calm sea. Willow began to slump even farther, if possible- her body almost caving into itself. Adrian cursed under his breath, his free hand curling into a fist.

Buffy waited for them to fully process the information before continuing. The reason I know is because I've been Angelus's prisoner for the past week. These bruises," Buffy brushed her fingers across the various bruises covering her face and arms, her hands stopping at the bare skin of her upper chest, "are from my sessions with either Angelus or Spike. They tried to get information from me on where Willow was. I didn't tell though. I swear. I'd rather die than serve you up on a silver platter to that bastard."

Willow made no move to speak. She was staring at some distant point past Buffy's head. She looked younger than her years at that moment, resembling the timid 15 year old girl she had been when he'd first met her. Angel filled the silence by asking the question nagging at the edges of his mind. "Who told him where we are? Nobody knows besides a few select Council members, aside from you and Giles."

"I know. That's why I didn't contact the Council when I escaped last night. I didn't even tell Giles I had escaped and where I was going." Angel nodded sympathetically. The Watcher was like a surrogate father to the slayer. He knew how hard it must be for her to keep him in the dark, especially when he was probably worried sick over her whereabouts. Buffy's tone turned adamant as she continued. "I think somebody on the Council gave up your location. Whether they did it willingly or it was forced out of them, I don't know. That's why we can't call the Council and let them know where we're going. We don't know who we can trust right now."

Willow roused herself out of her depression then. "No, I want to at least call Giles, or Lydia. I want them to know where we're going."

Buffy looked over at her friend, seemingly fighting for patience. "No, Will, we can't. The more people who know where you go, the more we compromise your safety. We need to keep this between the three of us."

Willow sputtered, "But it's Giles. He would never betray us. Never." She couldn't understand her friend's sudden distrust of the man who had done nothing but try to protect them as long as they'd known him.

Buffy reached across the wooden table to grasp the hand not held by Adrian. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, she tried to explain her reasoning to Willow. "I know he wouldn't. But I made myself a promise when Angelus was torturing me. I swore that when I escaped I'd make sure he never got his hands on you again. I swore that I'd keep you safe, that he'd never get to do the things he told me he had planned." Silent tears fell down Buffy's cheek as her voice began to break. "God, Will, you can't imagine the things he taunted me with- the things he said he had planned for you, and the things he said to me…"

Willow was immediately sympathetic, dropping her defenses and giving in. "I'm so sorry, Buffy. You're right; we shouldn't call them. And I am so sorry for what happened to you. It's all my fault."

"Stop that, you know that's not true. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for not being able to stop Angelus sooner. Or for even being able to control myself with Angel. If we hadn't… I mean, I knew it was wrong, you know. Slayer and a vampire- it was never meant to be, but I just couldn't help myself. If I hadn't loved him so much we wouldn't be here today."

"Buffy, you know that's not true." Willow chastised. "You can't help who you fall in love with. Besides, you didn't know. If it's anyone's fault it's Darla's or those damn gypsies. But it could never be yours or Angel's fault. You guys were just innocent victims who got punished for following your hearts."

Buffy appeared to be moved by Willow's words but couldn't help adding. "You're right. You can't help who you fall in love with. But you can help the actions you take afterwards- that's what counts."

Willow's temper flared up as she snapped. "Do you regret it?"

Surprised, Buffy asked, "Regret what?"

"Do you regret it? Not just that night, but all the nights. Do you regret having loved him? Do you regret the time you two had together, and the happiness you were able to give to each other, no matter how brief?"

Buffy leaned back in her chair, reeling from the barrage of questions Willow had fired at her like bullets from a machine gun. Her emotions were clearly evident on her face as she considered her answer. Shock, confusion, insecurity, longing. Buffy went through many stages until answering, and though she spoke softly her words and tone held conviction. "No, I don't regret it. I could never regret it."

Angel let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Willow smiled. "Good, because your love was a gift. No matter what happened or happens, you should never regret it. Angel loved you- always remember that."

The smile that brightened the slayer's face was blinding in it's brilliance. It transformed her entire demeanor, harkening back to the old happy, carefree Buffy. As the two friend embraced, Angel discreetly wiped his eyes riding them of the wetness seeping from beneath his closed lids.

When they had pulled apart, both girls looked more like their old selves- pretty amazing considering the circumstances of their being together again. "So," Willow began. "Where should we go?" She glanced at both Adrian and Buffy as she spoke, putting the weight of the decision on them.

Buffy spoke before Adrian could suggest anything. "Don't worry, I have the perfect place. Angelus and his minions will never be able to find you there. Just trust me."

Willow nodded. She didn't need to question Buffy, giving her complete trust as she had so often in the past. "Alright. Just give me and Adrian a few minutes to pack and we'll be ready to leave." Adrian nodded in agreement, moving to stand by Willow's side.

Buffy paused. "Just don't take too long. We really don't have too much time. When I escaped Angelus had already been gone a day. He left me in Spike's care as he headed over here. I escaped when Spike went to comfort Dru during one of her fits. Seems she thought that bleach blonde bimbo of hers was going to turn me and make me his new consort. Can you believe it?"

Willow arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "I have to admit, I can't really picture you and Spike together. Besides the fact that the whole vampire thing would do nothing for your complexion." The girls laughed together, taking comfort during hard times wherever they could. Angel understood their need to distract themselves from the very real danger before them, and if laughter helped then he wouldn't stop them. Placing a hand on the small of Willow's back, Angel gently led Willow out of the room and up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, they descended the stairs with their bags in hand. Adrian quickly jotted off a note to Lucinda letting her know they were leaving for a few months and she was to keep up the place in their absence, her paychecks to be provided by his lawyers. While Adrian went to leave the note where Lucinda would be sure to find it, Willow took one last look around the villa that had been her home for the past 4 months. She hated being forced to leave it so soon, especially since so many of her possessions were being left behind, again. This was the third time in less than a year that Willow was being forced to leave her home in the middle of the night, sneaking out like a refuge. She sighed, supposing she had better get used to this kind of lifestyle. She wasn't sure if she ever would.

Buffy placed a reassuring hand on Willow's shoulder. As if she sensed Willow's thoughts, she said, "Don't worry Willow. One way or another, this will all be over soon. I promise."

Willow nodded, sniffling slightly. Adrian reentered the room. Giving the place a once over to make sure he hadn't forgotten something important, he said, "Well, I guess we're all set. Let's not waste anymore time."

The three friends made their way to the car Buffy had rented at the airport. They figured it was less conspicuous than Adrian's car, which they left in the driveway for Lucinda's personal use till some future date when they were able to return home. Willow took shotgun, while Buffy went behind the wheel and Adrian lounged out in the backseat. Willow braced herself for some speeding but was pleasantly surprised to find Buffy's driving had improved since the last time Willow had been in a car with her.

They drove for a couple of hours through the Italian countryside, heading in the direction of Padova, stopping only once while Buffy went to buy the three of them coffee from a café they passed. Willow took the opportunity to change seats with Adrian so she could spread out in the backseat, sipping her coffee and resting her eyes. Adrian finished his coffee in a few gulps then moved on to Buffy's after she said she didn't want it. To Willow's immense surprise, the coffee was having the opposite effect on her than usual. Considering how coffee usually had the same effect on her as cocaine or uppers to others, and that Italian coffee was ten times stronger than American versions, it was unusual for Willow to be feeling as sleepy as she did. The quiet sounds of the country accompanied by the steady rhythm of the car was lulling Willow into a deep sleep. She could barely keep her eyes open and before long she was fast asleep.

When Willow woke, she was disoriented. Her cognitive processes didn't appear to be working since she had no idea where she was. As she slowly came to consciousness, her senses awakening, Willow took in her surroundings, momentarily confused. She was lying on a queen sized bed in what appeared to be a small, dark room with bare wooden walls and very little by way of furnishings. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in the car as Buffy drove them to a safe place, away from Angelus. Wondering if perhaps they'd stopped somewhere so they could sleep, Willow tried to sit up. With a sharp jerk her body was yanked backwards. With a panicked tug, Willow realized that her arms were firmly bound over her head with tight ropes chaffing her wrists. The pain that spread down her arms as she struggled against the bonds shook away the last vestiges of sleep. Fear snaked through Willow as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

Before she could get her mind to work properly and come up with any conceivable conclusions, a shaft of light penetrated the darkness. Willow turned her head and found the source to coming from an open door. Two figures stood silhouetted in the doorframe, light pouring in around them.

Squinting, Willow tried to make out their features. She couldn't focus on any detail through the darkness. She thought one of the figures might be that of a woman, considering how petit their outline was, but she couldn't be sure.

The room became flooded with light as someone threw a switch. The quick change blinded Willow momentarily, and she was forced to close her eyes against the brightness. When she opened her eyes, dark spots colored her vision, making it impossible to focus on anything. Willow's ears were assaulted by the deep, throaty chuckle that was immediately familiar. It was the same sound that had haunted so many of her dreams. A sense of foreboding went over Willow, and she feared she knew exactly what was going on.

Still, Willow was unprepared for the sight that greeted her when her vision cleared. Standing before her, each smiling wide, feral grins was the man that had dominated her nightmares for the past 10 months and the girl she had once called her friend, both their faces distorted with the sharp ridges of their kind. Tears wet her cheeks as she moaned, "No, Buffy, not you, oh God, not you."

The slayer threw her head back, her laughter containing a cold, sadistic tone it had never contained before. "Surprise, Willow."

~Part: 15~

**rolling dice and seeming queer
bastard love a sick affair
let's see what new disease you'll fetch
I mean that fucking you is strange and adored by me throughout
oh it's you again
blessing you with every kiss
so precious you know
this hate of mine exploded
I'm so deranged you know
I will never be the same

tying yourself to me
stitch up my emptiness
'cause your the death of me
so precious, loving the thrill**

**"Stitches"- Orgy**
 

Willow sobbed, her mind unable to comprehend the sight before her. The fact that Angelus once again had her in his possession came secondary to the pain her soul felt over seeing her best friend turned into one of the creatures she had been born to fight against. Her beautiful face distorted by the ridges of the vampiric visage tore at Willow's heart as she cried helpless tears against the travesty. The sheer injustice of it all made her weep. "Buffy, you were wrong. It is my fault. I only hope wherever your soul is, it can forgive me."

The blonde vampire took a seat at the edge of the bed and stared at the hacker. She tilted her head to the side, studying the girl before her as if she was a piece of puzzling, abstract art. Her features quickly morphed back into the human face Willow was used to. She reached a cold palm out to softly caress her cheek, the cool detachment in her eyes belying the gentleness of her touch. "Willow," she whispered her friend's name with a tone heavy with pity. "You're so naïve. What makes you think I'm not the same Buffy I was before. Trust me, I know exactly what my soul is feeling. It's still a part of me. And I know what it was thinking as Angelus turned me. I cursed you Willow. I curse you. This is your fault, and believe me, my soul knew it, as I know it now. None of this would have happened if not for you. All you had to do was give in to Angelus, allow him to love and possess you like you both wanted, and I'd be alive right now. If only you had succumbed to your inner desires, then we wouldn't be here now. But no, you had to turn him away and run off and fall in love with someone else. Well, you'll get what's coming to you, I promise you that. I only wish it could culminate in your death at my hands. You don't deserve Angelus- you never did. You're not half the woman I am Willow, but you'll learn. I'll take pleasure in watching Angelus tire of you and discard you like the little trashy whore you are." The slayer paused, drinking in the tears spilling forth from her former friend's eyes, her chest rising and falling as violent sobs overtook her small body. She moved her hands up to Willow's eyelids, her fingers catching the tears as they fell. She brought her fingers up to her lips, relishing the taste of the salty liquid, knowing they were products of the pain she was inflicting on the girl.

Willow shuddered at the vampire's touch, the back of her mind reeling at how cold Buffy's touch was. She couldn't understand how she could have missed that before. Unable to help herself, she asked, "How? I felt you, I held you. I saw your bruises." Willow's eyes roamed over the slayer's now immaculate skin.

Buffy leaned backwards on her arms, arching her chest forward so Willow could get a clear look at the unblemished skin of her neck and face. She seemed to take pride in the charade she had so perfectly pulled off. "What, you think you're the only witch who knows how to use a little magic. All it took was a simple glamour spell. You can thank your friend Amy for that. It's amazing how easily people will betray their friends when faced with the business end of a cattle prod. She'd be here now but we let her go. She was doing more than her share to hurt you as a human, considering how she's fucking your ex-boyfriend Oz. Oops." Buffy covered her mouth with her hand, doing her best to look contrite at the grimace of pain that crossed Willow's face. "You didn't know, did you? I guess I should have told you during our sporadic phone conversations, but I suppose I just didn't want to hurt you. I can't believe I let it slip now. Silly me."

Buffy flinched in surprise as Willow's saliva drenched her face. Clenching her fingers together, Buffy reeled back and punched her squarely in the jaw. Willow's head snapped to the side from the force of the impact, shutting her eyes and clenching her teeth against the pain. She felt Buffy's closeness against her face, her breath chilling her skin as she hissed. "Spit on me all you like Bitch, it won't change anything. You're just a little whore who's now gonna pay for coveting her best friend's possessions. Don't think I don't know how you lusted after Angel when me and him were together. I could see it in your eyes whenever you looked at him, or whenever I mentioned his name. You wanted him as much as I did- and you hated me for having what you wanted. Was it my fault you were a mousy nothing when I met you, who couldn't attract the attention of a guy even if he was blind and dumb. You've always lived in my shadow, Willow. Xander, Angel, heck, I bet even Oz had a thing for me. Maybe once I'm done playing with Spike I can move on to Adrian. I saw the way he looked at me when we first met, and I'm sure you noticed as well. How could he help himself, being stuck with you for the past year. He's probably in need of a good fucking, cause I'm certain you haven't given it up to him yet. But don't worry Will, I'll be sure to keep him satisfied in ways you never could."

As hard as it was, Willow was proud of herself for not reacting outwardly, giving Buffy the satisfaction she so obviously wanted. Inwardly, Buffy's words were having the intended affect, wounding Willow deeply, but she wouldn't let her see it. The only indication of the pain she was feeling was the tears that had yet to cease falling.

Disgusted at the self control Willow was exhibiting, denying her the pleasure of seeing her victim break, Buffy grew bored of her taunting. Placing a mocking kiss on Willow's damp cheek, the slayer stood in one graceful move and stalked over to her sire, who had been resting against the doorframe, watching the encounter between the two former friends with barely controlled glee. He had to admit that he was proud of the way the slayer had turned out. It had never been his intention to turn her. Well, perhaps it had crossed his mind once or twice when he had first returned, when his obsession with her had been at it's height, but the idea had died with his growing obsession with Willow. After that he had only imagined her death as the greatest act of his revenge. He'd been forced to turn the slayer in order to implement his plan to get Willow back, and it was working out better than he had ever imagined. The slayer was truly even more beautiful as a vampire than she had been as a human. In addition, she was crueler and more capricious than any other Childe he had ever sired. He supposed it had to do with the rage he had felt inside of her as her soul fled her body. With her last ounce of breath she had cursed the world and God for repaying her sacrifices to the greater good in this manner. That rage had stayed when she'd awoken to her unlife, combining with the bitter anger she'd always kept locked inside of her as a human- hatred for the unwanted curse destiny had laid upon her, the role it had deemed her worthy enough to play, despite her own wishes. As a vampire, Buffy was prepared to revenge herself against any and everyone for the life that had been robbed from her long before Angelus had turned her, starting with those who had been closest to her. It made her sire proud to see her in action, even if the victim of her wrath was the woman he loved.

Angelus smiled at his Childe, who now had her body pressed intimately against his. He leaned down, gripping her head to place a bruising kiss on her willing lips. She wasn't Willow, but she would do, especially since the one he wanted was now ready and waiting for him less than 5 feet away. The thought caused a growl to emanate from his throat. Shoving Buffy away from him, he ordered her out of the room. "Go amuse yourself with my other bleached out Childe. I've got business to attend to and I don't want to be disturbed."

Buffy pouted, disappointed that she wasn't going to be able to watch, but complied. She already knew better than to disregard an order from her sire. Closing the door behind her, she left the couple alone.

Willow stared at Angelus with wide, frightened eyes, resembling a deer caught in headlights. He merely smiled, his laughter full of content satisfaction over the prize tied to his bed. Lowering his body so that it completely covered her own, he leaned forward so his lips were a hairs breath away from hers. He drank in the way her eyes widened even further as she felt his erection pressing through his leather pants against her own sex and whispered, "Welcome home, honey." Then he kissed her.

~Part: 16~

**Silence now the sound my breath the only motion around
Demons cluttering around my face showing no emotion
Shackled by my sentence expecting no return
Here there is no penance my skin begins to burn

So I held my head up high hiding hate that burns inside which
only fuels their selfish pride
We're all held captive out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one**

**"My Own Prison"- Creed**
 

Willow struggled against his kiss to no avail.  Her arms were useless, tied above her head securely, her body effectively held captive by his own.  She tried to keep her mouth tightly shut so he wouldn't be able to deepen the kiss but as the seconds turned into minutes, Willow's need to breath won out against her stubborn pride.  Gasping for breath, Angelus took the opportunity to move his tongue into her mouth.

He moved his hands down to fondle her breasts, his fingers forceful and bruising as he twisted her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Willow cried out in pain, but the sound was lost within Angelus's mouth. Before she knew what was happening, his hands were at the clasp to her jeans.  He quickly unbuttoned them and somehow managed to yank them down without pausing in his exploration of her mouth or in removing his body too much off of hers.  With a quick agility of one who had practice in such areas, he kicked her jeans off with his feet.  As they fell to the floor, he broke away to stare into her eyes.  He searched them with his own, which were darker than usual from his lust.  He drank in the fear reflected from the green depths, knowing that he could easily banish such emotions, replacing them with the lust she was keeping hidden from him.  Her body was a bundle of nerves, which, if played just right, could yield exactly the response he wanted.  Angelus began to remove her top as he spoke.  "I can make this nice for you, Willow.  A girl's first time is special, and I can make sure you enjoy every second of it- minimal pain."

Willow stared up at the cruel, handsome face above her.  A portion of the fear inside her began to be replaced by a burning rage.  Snarling, she spat at him, "I suppose I should be grateful you have so much experience with virgins."

Angelus tilted his head in a sign of acknowledgement to his past, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in her tone.  "You've been doing your homework, little girl.  Guess you couldn't keep your mind off me during your stint with the Watchers, huh.  You should never trust Watcher propaganda, although in this case it is accurate.  I doubt the Diaries mentioned what a sensual lover I can be- incredibly considerate of my partner's needs and desires.  Of course, the opposite is also true.  I can be very cruel and selfish.  I can make it extremely pleasurable for myself and less so for you, as I'm sure you remember.  But it's your choice Willow.  If you let me love you, allow me to possess you the way your body already wants me to," with that last comment he moved a hand between her legs, lightly caressing her through the wet fabric of her panties, "then we'll both be happy."

Willow shuddered against her own body's betrayal.  Gritting her teeth she answered him.  "I hate you.  Do you understand me- I will always hate you. No matter what you do, I'll never be yours.  You may possess my body- I know I can't stop you from that- but you'll never possess my heart.  You'll never possess my soul."

His eyes took on a strange glint, scaring Willow further.  "Oh, don't worry, little girl.  What I have planned for you, your soul has nothing to do with."

As the implication behind his words sunk in, Willow's body grew colder. The blood churning through her veins felt like ice water.  Angelus just kept on smiling, drinking in the emotions that played across her face.  He reached a hand up to caress her cheek.  When he continued, his tone was reassuring.  "Don't worry, dear.  I don't plan to turn you for a few years.  I have to admit I'm addicted to the feel of your warm body beneath mine. And your blood!  I know we can't keep that virgin taint for much longer, but you still have other innocent, delectable qualities to your mortal blood that I'd hate to lose so soon."

Willow stared evenly into Angelus's eyes.  "Do as you wish, but I will never be yours- not completely.  Not even if you kill me."  Willow bit her tongue, cursing herself for speaking before she thought.  Angelus seemed to be considering her suggestion.  Willow held her breath till he spoke again.  "Of course.  I'm surprised I didn't think of this earlier.  How can you commit your heart to me when that pretty boy watcher you've been shacking up with is still alive.  Well, that's an easy enough problem to rid ourselves of.  Here."  Angelus reached up to untie Willow's bonds, freeing her hands.  Surprised, Willow moved to massage each wrist, eyeing Angelus warily from the corner of her eye.

The dark vampire lifted himself off of Willow and tossed her a robe that had been draped across an armchair next to the bed.  "Get dressed, we've got some business to take care of before we can be together."

Willow stared at the silk robe in her lap as if it were a live snake. "What do you mean?"  She was relieved Angelus had stopped his twisted seduction but had a feeling that what was coming wasn't much better.

Angelus stood by the door, waiting for her to join him before answering. Cupping her face in his hands, he placed a quick kiss on her lips.  His voice was thick with desire as he spoke.  "You will love me, Willow.  As much as I love you.  And if the only way to ensure that is to kill that would be mortal lover of yours, so be it."

Too horrified to respond, Willow allowed herself to be pulled out of the room by Angelus.  She barely noticed the other rooms as Angelus led her to their destination.  To Willow it was all a maze, her mind and body too numb to process any external stimulus beyond Angelus's tight grip on her hand.

Willow collided with the solid wall of muscles of Angelus's back as he stopped short.  Yanking her by the arm so that she emerged from behind him to stand at his side, Willow fought to keep her balance.  The room they had entered was considerably darker than the rest of the house, lit only by a few sporadic candles, which threw distorted shadows on the walls.  It took a few moments for Willow's vision to clear.  Once it had, her heart leapt into her throat, concern and fear for Adrian's safety morphing into shock and bitter jealousy.

Less than 5 feet in front of her, Adrian was tied to a plush, queen size bed.  Willow could barely see him- in addition to the lighting her view was obstructed by Buffy, who sat straddling his lower body, her chest draped over his as their lips met in a passionate kiss.  Willow was too enraged to even notice if Adrian was kissing her back.  As she took in the juncture where their lips met, her eyes travelling down the smooth planes of Adrian's bare chest, Buffy's words from earlier came back to Willow, replaying in her mind like a broken record.  In a moments time, months of growth and a strengthening of self confidence were laid to waste, transforming Willow back to the timid girl with zero self esteem she had been during her early high school years.  As if forgetting who was behind her, Willow took a step backwards, leaning against Angelus for support and comfort.  He noted the unconscious movement with satisfaction, pulling her closer to him as he wrapped his arms around her.  Willow was too caught up in her own pain to care who was holding her.  All she knew was the arms around her were strong and kept her otherwise limp body from slumping to the floor.

Angelus watched his Childe with pride.  She was playing her part perfectly.  He'd known that all Willow needed was a voyeuristic glimpse of her love screwing his Childe to break her will.  Judging by her reaction to the scene before them, it wouldn't take much more prodding on his part to truly vanquish his competition.  It was all almost too easy- he couldn't help but feel disgusted at how weak willed the Watcher was.  The stupid bastard had made the same mistake Angelus had been smart enough not to- he chose Buffy over Willow.  He wondered if the fool even realized just what he had sacrificed in favor of the blonde bimbo.

All it took was one lustful moan of Buffy's name and Willow broke down, uncontrollable sobs tearing from her throat.  As she buried her face in Angelus's chest, soaking the silk of his shirt with her tears, Buffy tore her lips away from Adrian's and glanced over her shoulder at the intruders, instinctively slipping into her "Game Face."  While she relaxed, dropping her defenses at the sight of her sire, her lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk, Adrian had the opposite reaction.  Angelus could see him clearly now.  He noticed the dilation of his pupils a physical manifestation of the drugs coursing through his system.  The sound of Willow's crying combined with the sight of her pressed against Angelus was enough to snap him out of his drug-induced haze.

Angelus enjoyed watching the shattering in Adrian's eyes as his mind caught up with the rest of his senses, comprehension dawning within him as he took in his surroundings and realized what had just happened.  When he moaned, "Oh God, Willow, no," Angelus felt shivers of delight travel up his spine. Careful not to let his inner pleasure show, Angelus stroked Willow's hair, whispering comforting words in an attempt to get her to cease her crying.

Adrian, meanwhile, was forcibly trying to remove Buffy from his lap, a task made difficult due to the incapacitation of his arms.  He writhed underneath her hips, managing to knock her over with strength doubled by his near hysterical will.  Distracted, Buffy fell on her side, shooting Adrian an annoyed glance before turning her attention back to the hysterical girl in her sire's arms.  Placing a possessive hand on Adrian's thigh, which he immediately attempted to shake off to no avail, Buffy couldn't resist tossing off a verbal taunt.  "I knew it wouldn't take him long to forget a little nothing like you.  It's like I told you, Will- you're not half the woman I am."

Adrian attempted a growl at Buffy's words, but the drugs had left him dehydrated, his throat producing a sound that resembled more of a kitten's growl, and the effect was lost.  It took all of Angelus' will power not to laugh at his now vanquished foe.  The scenario before him was causing him to consider the benefits of keeping the Watcher alive longer than he had originally planned.  It might be fun to watch the spirit leave this one as he was forced to watch the woman he loved in the arms of the man he hated.

Buffy's words seemed to be absorbed by Willow without question.  The two vampires knew that in her mind she was expanding upon them, creating a carefully constructed picture of just how worthless she was and how little the love she and Adrian had shared had meant to him.  Angelus knew Willow wasn't worthless, that the man who received her love received a gift beyond measure, but it was necessary she thought she was if he was going to break the connection between her and the man she thought she loved.  He would repair her damaged ego when this was all done and he could take her somewhere more private.  Then he'd show her exactly how beautiful and precious she was.

Buffy had played her part, and with no more for her to do, Angelus ordered his Childe out of the room.  Giving Adrian one final kiss, Buffy complied. The room was silent for a few moments as Angelus allowed the tension to build.  Disgusted, he realized Adrian was crying.  "Willow, please listen to me.  It's not what you think.  Just let me explain."

Deciding to have some fun with the cliched scene being enacted, Angelus delivered his lines with enthusiasm.  "Look, don't you think you've hurt her enough.  Leave her alone."

Staring at the vampire with unabashed hatred, Adrian struggled against the rope binding his wrists.  Startled from the noise of the headboard banging against the wall, Willow let out a whimper and snuggled closer to Angelus. Realizing he was scaring Willow, Adrian kept still, but not before snarling at Angelus, "Keep your hands off of her or so help me I'll make you kiss daylight."

Clutching Willow to him, Angelus made a motion as if to leave.  Changing his mind, he turned back to address Adrian with one last dig.  "You're not worthy of her."

Adrian bowed his head in a reflection of Angelus' own earlier motion. "You're right.  But neither are you."

"That's where you're wrong.  Me and her, we're perfect for each other.  I need her in ways you never could.  You know the old saying- light to my darkness, innocence to my evil.  We were made for each other.  Besides, if I thought for a second you'd know what to do with her, I might be worried, but you've already proven to be completely ineffectual in everything you undertake, especially loving her.  You always did fail at everything you ever tried."

Adrian's entire body froze, warning alarms going off in his head.  "What are you talking about?"

Angelus laughed, a short bark riddled with disdain.  He was tired of playing games.  "I mean, you were always weak- flawed; even when you were mortal.  You had so much potential, but you were too busy pissing it away on women, card and liquor.  You used your intellect to continue securing your reputation around town as a typical, worthless, drunken, whoring nobleman's son.  What's that wonderful modern expression to describe your type?  Oh that's right- you were a typical trust fund baby.  And the worst part is, even as you gave in to your baser instincts you did it as an aristocrat.  You never really let yourself go.  Your existence added nothing to the world- till I came.  I made you a better person, releasing all that potential within you, utilizing it as intended.  I fulfilled every pathetic desire you had ever had but had been too spoiled, too proper, too drunk to act on.  I'm twice the man you are, Angel, therefore I definitely deserve her more than you."  Angelus laughed at the utter shock in his human counterparts face.  The little girl in his arms didn't move or make any sort of reaction.  He wondered if she even heard his revelation or if she had retreated too far into her shell.

"That's right, Angel," he spoke the name as if it wasn't something to be said in polite company. "I know who you are.  I've known for awhile.  Once Dru started ranting about how the bad daddy was back and now there was two it didn't take me long to decipher her vision and find out the information I needed."  He couldn't help snorting at Angel's total surprise.  "I guess you're not as smart as you thought you were.  Or perhaps I'm just smarter than you thought I was.  I know how the Powers That Be gave your soul a chance to redeem itself for all the crimes I had committed by placing it within the body of this young Watcher as he was on the verge of death.  I must admit, I'm a bit iffy on the details, but I imagine it went something like this: his soul out, your soul in and voila, you're human again.  And let me guess, the only price you have to pay for the gift you pinned for these last 90 years is to protect the witch and murder me.  Now, is it just me or does it sound like the PTB's got the raw end of that deal.  I mean, I'm only one little old demon- a very destructive one, if I do say so myself- but in the grand scheme of things, still just one of many.  What is it I'm doing, or will do, that is so important that the PTB's would grant you this enormous gift to stop me?  You don't mind my asking do you- cause quite frankly, I'm immensely curious."

Angel, furious over having his unmasking occur in this manner, to have Willow learn of his betrayal of trust from his demon, kept silent.  Angel refused to give Angelus any information he could end up using to his advantage, especially when it could end up putting Willow in danger.

Angelus stared into the eyes that now housed his soul, trying to draw the information he wanted out of them.  He perceived Angel's protectiveness and pounced on it.  "Is it the little witch?  Is she the reason the PTB's sent you on your Holy Grail mission?"  Angelus stared down at the frail, broken creature in his arms, the enigma of her importance unfathomable to his mind.  "I will find out, Angel, one way or another.  I'm sure you can imagine just how much I'll enjoy finding out."

Angel ignored his demon, his heart twisting as he looked at Willow.  She had stopped crying and appeared to have gone into shock.  Her left arm hung limply around Angelus's waist, her right hand balled up into a fist near her face, the thumb partially encapsulated by her lips.  Her eyes were unfocused, starring at some point on the far wall.  She made no reaction as he called her name, desperately pleading for her to look at him.  More than her hating him, Angel feared he had damaged her with his deception.  Not even when she had found out about her parent's murder had Willow appeared like this.  It was almost as if her body was an empty host, her mind and soul having escaped to some far away place where she could be safe from the pain of reality.  Turning his attention back to his demon, Angel stated with deadly calm,  "This isn't over."

"No, of that you are correct.  This is far from over.  I'll be back to deal with you later.  Right now I need some time alone with my woman. Seems I've got some damage control to do.  I'll do my best to help her forget all about you and your deceptions before the nights over.  Then I'll be back."  With those parting words, Angelus led the catatonic Willow out of the room, leaving Adrian alone to mourn the loss of everything he held dear in the world.

~Part: 17~

**Hey, what's the point of this
Hey, what's your favorite song,
maybe we could hum along
Well, I think you're smart,
you sweet thing
Tell me your name
I'm dying here
Got you where I want you
Got you where I want you**

**"Got You Where I Want You"- The Flys**
 

Willow remained catatonic for two straight days. She didn't move, speak, or eat the entire time. She merely laid on the bed she shared with Angelus, her eyes lifeless as they stared at some distant point. As the third night dawned with no sign of change, Angelus began to worry. While Willow was ill, Angelus was uncharacteristically kind. He spent great portions of his time with her, looking after her, waiting for her to recover. He wanted to be with her when she revived. Angelus also refused to touch Willow, intimately, while she was in this state. Instead, he waited out her recovery, relieving his tension and taking out his anger through torture. His days and nights were spent alternating between his time with Willow and his time punishing his human doppelganger. Angelus took pleasure in letting his soul think Willow was alive and well, too busy fucking him to even remember Angel or his deceptions. The motional death and physical torture he brought to his soul helped him forget his worries and take pleasure in the pure release of his demon's ultimate desire to wound the one that had kept him prisoner for a century.

It was on that third night that Willow began to show signs of life beyond her continued breathing. Returning from a particularly satisfying session with Angel, Angelus made sure he washed away all traces of the blood he had helped shed, the expression on his face devoid of the cruelty that had marred it only a short while ago. Entering the room, Angelus froze at the sight of movement. Willow's head was rolling from side to side, her eyes closed with the lids fluttering. Relieved, Angelus moved to the side of the bed. Capturing her hand with his, his thumb traced reassuring circles in her palm as he murmured her name in hopes of fully rousing her. She began to mumble softly and he strained his ears in an attempt to make out her words. As he reached out a hand to her cheek, stilling her head's movement, Willow's eyelids flew open. Her eyes were trained on his face and for the first time in days she appeared to actually be starring at rather than through him.

Not waiting for her to speak, Angelus leaned down to press a rather chaste kiss to her lips. "I'm glad to see you're awake. I was starting to worry, lover. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back to me."

She stared at him, eyes wide, an expression of utter bewilderment and confusion darkening her features. She didn't fight his kiss, nor did she react to his choice of endearments. There was an internal struggle being raged in her eyes as she fought for recognition. Angelus wondered if perhaps permanent damage had been done to her psyche. If it turned out to be a result of the drugs Buffy had given her, he'd stake the bitch without a second thought. "Willow, are you alright? Say something if you understand me."

Willow shifted on the bed, lifting her slight body up so she was half sitting, half lounging against the pillows. She made a sound with her throat as if to speak, but all that came out was a strangled croaking. Handing her a glass of water he'd left on the nightstand earlier, Willow drank deeply, wincing slightly at the lukewarm temperature. Once the cup was drained, she spoke around the soreness of her throat. "I hear you…" Willow paused, grappling for a name her mind wasn't supplying. Puzzled, she went on, "… but I don't understand."

Angelus frowned. "What don't you understand?"

Willow paused before answering. "Well, you called me a tree before and I'm not sure why. Also, I have no idea who you are or where I am, and to be quite honest, I'm not sure who I am either. Then you kissed me and I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to be kissing you- not that it wasn't nice, but, I mean, who are you? How do I know you're not some psychotic killer who's gonna rape and murder me. Not that you seem like one, or I think you are one, cause I don't think you are. You seem familiar but… I don't know. Everything's all fuzzy. My head, it hurts." Willow raised a hand to her temple, massaging the bone beneath her skin. She realized she was babbling and wondered if it was something she did often.

Angelus couldn't help but smile at his good fortune. He'd never considered the possibility of Willow repressing the emotional pain she'd suffered and thus losing her memory. The possibilities now before him seemed endless. She was virtually a blank canvas on which he could paint whatever picture of the current situation he wanted.

As Angelus contemplated his course of action, Willow stared at the vampire with curious eyes. In her mind, she was seeing him for the first time, and her appraising gaze quickly turned appreciative as she took in the dark good looks of the man before her. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes lingered on the sculpted planes of his chest, clearly visible through the window afforded by his unbuttoned top. Willow had a sudden urge to run her hands up the wall of muscles, wondering if they were as hard and solid as they looked.

Angelus noticed her noticing him and chuckled darkly. "You can touch me, Willow, if you'd like. Everything I am belongs to you."

Willow considered his words. "What do you mean?"

Angelus smiled a sexy little grin at her. "What I mean is, you and I are lovers. More than that, we're soulmates. Everything I have, everything I am is yours, and vice versa. You're free to explore me any way you desire."

Willow wondered at this bit of information. Skepticism colored her thoughts as her mind processed the idea that this beautiful man was her lover. She had no memory of him, and the idea that she could forget what should be the most important person in her life frightened her. If he was her soulmate, how could she forget him so easily, so completely? Needing more answers to fill in the holes in her mind, Willow questioned him, "Is my name Willow?"

Angelus nodded. "Yes. Do you remember my name?"

Willow's forehead scrunched up as she ransacked her mind, trying hard to come up with the right answer. Failing, Willow shook her head, afraid he was going to be mad.

"That's okay. You have amnesia. It's not your fault you don't remember. I'm sure everything will come back to you in time. But for now, I'm Angelus."

Willow's eyes lit up as a sense of familiarity swept through her at the name. A single memory penetrated the dark fog of her mind, piercing the veil between the present and the oblivion of her past. "Angel!" She burst out, happy to have remembered something, even if it was only a name. When she tried to dig deeper and connect any specific feelings or memories to the name, she found her memories blocked.

Angelus's expression darkened at the name that escaped from her lips, though he fought to keep the smile on his face so he wouldn't alarm her with his reaction. "See, you haven't totally forgotten me. But I don't go by that nickname anymore. It's an old one."

Willow smiled innocently, "Why not. It's such a pretty name. I like it."

Angelus gritted his teeth, fighting for control. "I just don't. That name brings up bad memories."

Willow was immediately repentant. "I'm sorry, I'll call you Angelus then." The smile faded from her lips as she suddenly grew shy. "So, um, we're lovers?"

Angelus leaned down to kiss her again, a quick peck so he wouldn't frighten her. "That's right. We've been together for a year. Your best friend Buffy introduced us. It was love at first sight. We're even engaged." He lifted her hand up so she could see. Shrugging at the bare fingers, he explained. "You lost the ring the other night during your accident. But don't worry- I'll get you another one. All that matters is you're safe. I was afraid I had lost you for good." Angelus made his expression one of deep affection and sick fear, trying hard to impersonate the brooding looks of his souled half.

Willow melted under his show of concern. "I'm sorry I scared you." She reached out to lay a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'm okay now. Nothing really hurts except my head, and that's only when I try to remember things. I don't even think I have any bruises." Willow glanced down at her body, blushing as Angelus did the same. She hadn't realized she was dressed in nothing but a loose T-shirt that fell only part way down her thighs. From what he had told her about their relationship, she was sure he'd seen her in a lot less, but since she didn't remember, it was a lot easier for her to get embarrassed now.

Angelus seemed to take no notice in her discomfort over his gaze, which was openly lustful. Lying beside her so he could wrap his arms around her, Angelus whispered in her ear. "You can't imagine how much I've missed holding you like this. I feared I'd never be able to hold you again, never get to kiss you or hear your sweet voice again. The past few days have been hell on me. I want to make up for lost time, but I'd understand if you aren't ready." He added the last part as he felt her body tense as his arms tightened their hold on her. The effect was immediate. She relaxed, moving closer to his body. His arms were strong, making her feel safe and protected. The look in his eyes made her feel beautiful and desired, as well as incredibly loved.

Willow tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. "It's not that I don't want to." It was true, her body was responding to his, tingles of warmth spreading through her veins. "It's just that things are so confusing right now. There's so much I don't remember- so many blanks I need you to fill in. I want to reclaim my old life, but I'm afraid of what I don't remember. I'm sorry, but would you mind terribly if we waited awhile. Just till I know more about what's happened to me?"

Angelus was the epitome of understanding, kissing Willow gently. He knew, if played right, he could press the issue and get her to submit to his every whim, but something held him back. The victory would be so much sweeter if she was the one to come to him. "Of course I don't mind. I'd do anything for you. I love you." Relieved, Willow allowed Angelus to cup her head and kiss her again, this time more passionately. They stayed that way for awhile, kissing and taking comfort in the closeness of their bodies. Inside, Angelus crowed in triumph. He was well on his way to having exactly what he wanted.

~Part: 18~

**So I guess the fortune teller's right
Should have seen just what was there and not some holy light
But you crawled beneath my veins and now
I don't care, I have no luck, I don't miss it all that much
There's just so many things that I can't touch, I'm torn
I'm all out of faith
This is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed lying naked on the floor
Illusion never changed into something real
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn
You're a little late
I'm already torn**

**"Torn"- by Ednaswap**
 

It was close to sunrise when Angelus finally emerged from his bedroom with a very dazed Willow in tow. It had taken him a couple of hours to recount their history for her. Every time he would reveal some other fantastical tidbit, such as how Buffy was the vampire slayer, now a vampire; that he too was a vampire and that she was an up and coming witch, he would be forced to stop and spend 20 minutes assuring her he was not playing a prank on her. He'd finally convinced her he was serious, but only after showing her his fangs, which he allowed her to explore with quivering digits. In the end, she'd accepted what he'd told her, figuring it would all make sense once she got her memory back, which Angelus maintained wouldn't take long. He promised her the best medical attention money could buy, since he was as anxious as she was to recover the lost memories.

Angelus led Willow through the house, giving her the guided tour she'd missed out on earlier. Willow remained silent, absorbing where everything was located distractedly, wondering where in this labyrinthine house lay their ultimate destination. When they stopped in front of a nondescript wooden door at the end of a long, dark corridor, Willow felt her heart begin to race. Angelus paused with his hand on the knob. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Willow bit her lip, nodding. As the door swung open, Willow held her breath, her eyes moving from the pretty blonde sitting cross-legged on the bed to settle on the figure she'd come to see. She entered the room with slow, deliberate steps, ignoring the girl she assumed was Buffy to stand before the man in the corner. His arms were raised above his head, the metal cuffs digging into his wrists, drawing blood that ran down his arms in shockingly bright rivulets. He was naked except for his jeans, which were caked with both dirt and dried blood, the original blue coloring lost. Even his night black hair was matted with his blood, causing the wavy strands to clump together. The skin of his chest was torn open, every available inch of flesh covered with wounds, some fresh and leaking drops of blood like tears, others older, their lips curling into ugly, dark scabs. Something in Willow's chest tightened at the evidence of the torture this man had endured, but she hardened her face, repeating in her mind that he deserved it.

As if sensing he was being watched, Angel pried his eyes open and found himself staring into two cypress colored pools of hatred. The eyes bore into his own, stark accusation and distrust probing his heart. Angel shut his eyes, his heart clenching in agonized defeat. He'd prayed with all his soul that he'd never have to see that hatred in her eyes, directed towards him. He'd screwed up, and now they were both paying for it. Self-hatred welled up inside of him over having hurt her.

>From a distance, Angel heard his demon ask, "Do you recognize him, lover?"

Lover. The word went through Angel's body like a bolt of lightening. He watched as the hatred in her eyes clouded over, replaced by emotions he couldn't read. It was almost as if a veil had descended, closing him off from her. When she spoke, her voice sounded strange to Angel's ears. He wondered if perhaps Angelus had punctured one of his eardrums earlier, and then realized that it was the tone that was disturbing him. There was a detachment he'd never heard from her before. "No, there's nothing… I… I can't remember."

Angel sucked in his breath, wondering what her strange words meant. He tried to form words around the pain in his chest but found it too difficult. Unable to look away from Willow's eyes, Angel was caught off guard when strong fingers tangled themselves in his hair, yanking his head upwards. The muscles in his neck screamed in agony over the mistreatment. To his disgrace, he couldn't stop himself from moaning.

Angelus stared down at him. "I can see how you might not recognize him. Adrian hasn't had much beauty sleep these last few days. He's also picked up a few scars since you've last seen him. I assure you though, this is the same man."

Angel forced the words out of his throat. "What kind of game are you playing?"

Angelus looked at him blankly. "No game. I'm merely reintroducing Willow to the man that tried to kill her. The man that's the cause of all of her pain, including her current state of memory loss."

Angel blinked, his body in too much pain to react any other way. "She's lost her memory?"

Angelus nodded, making sure his back was to Willow so she wouldn't see the self adulation in his gaze or the grin meant for Angel alone. "That's right. I had to explain everything that's happened to her: how you and your Council have been trying to kill me even though they know I have a soul; how they risked the life of the slayer to accomplish it, and then, when that failed and she was turned, how they sent you to get to me through Willow. She knows everything, even if she can't remember it right now." Angelus let go of Angel's hair to take a step backwards, a single arm held to his lower chest in a mock bow.

Angel fumbled for words, his mind reeling from the twisted web of lies Angelus had spun for Willow. He felt a deep rooted need to scream, as if then this surreal scene being played out would come to an end and reality would return. Desperate to set things right, he pleaded with Willow. "Will, he's lying. That's not the way things are at all."

Angelus answered for her. "Why would she believe you over her soulmate, Adrian?" He took Willow's hand in his, turning it over to place a kiss on her palm.

"He's not your soulmate, Willow. Don't listen to him. He's twisting everything around to suit his own purposes, to get you to turn your back on me and go with him. Listen to you heart, Willow. I know it couldn't have forgotten what we shared, no matter what's happened."

Willow took a step closer to Angel. For a second, her eyes seemed on the verge of recognition, a tiny seed of familiarity that sprang up as she stared into his face. But it was gone almost as soon as it came, unable to plant roots in her memory. Her expression once again became a mask for her anger and hatred. "I am listening to my heart, and it's telling me one of the only things I remember. You lied to me. I don't know about what or when, but my heart knows you're a liar. I won't let you lie to me anymore, and I won't give you the chance to destroy me."

Having said what she needed to say, Willow walked away. With one last grin, Angelus followed, calling to Buffy over his shoulder. "Make sure you don't kill him, yet. I've still got some retribution I need to doll out."

~Part: 19~

** Daylight licked me into shape
I must have been asleep for days
And moving lips to breathe her name
I opened up my eyes
And found myself alone alone
Alone above a raging sea
That stole the only girl I loved
And drowned her deep inside of me**

**"Just Like Heaven"- The Cure**
 

A thin shaft of artificial orange light penetrated the oppressive darkness surrounding Angel. As quickly as it came, it was gone, and the darkness enfolded Angel once again with its velvet wings. A sound like a dull thump accompanied the brief appearance and disappearance of the light. He thought it might be a door closing but he couldn't be sure. Over the past few days his hearing had been off, as if his body was submerged under water and every sound had to be filtered through the viscous liquid to reach his ears. He was sure if he survived this he'd be left with permanent hearing loss.

Though the sounds were diffused, he could sense another presence in the room. Cursing internally, he braced himself for the figures of either Buffy or Angelus. Inside, he felt like crying. He'd only been alone for… well he wasn't quite sure how long it was exactly. Time had begun to lose all meaning during his captivity. It could be anywhere from 15 minutes to 15 hours. All he knew was his body hadn't recovered yet from their last visit. He could still feel the blood leaking from his numerous wounds. If they picked up the torture again, he knew with certainty he wouldn't make it through the night.

But it wasn't Buffy or Angelus that filled his field of vision. With the flip of a switch, cold artificial light flooded the room, chasing away the darkness. When his eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness, he found himself staring at the red haired beauty that dominated his every waking and sleeping thoughts. She stood before him staring, words dying in her throat as she took in the broken remains of his body. Angel hadn't looked in a mirror for over a week so he could only imagine what he looked like. Pretty bad, judging by the horror in her eyes.

She, in contrast, looked amazing. It was probably the best he had seen her look, but his perception was probably tainted by the fatalistic slant to his thoughts. Her hair hung down her back, in intricate plaits, framing the sides of her face. Her makeup and the lush pale green of the Victorian dress she sported highlighted her natural coloring, making her eyes appear even brighter. Even her usual gilt and porcelain complexion seemed brighter; as if aglow with some emotion he didn't want to contemplate. Happiness, most probably.

Angel lowered his eyes against the raiment of her beauty; sure this vision was just another hallucination. He'd taken to having them since he'd last seen her. Whenever he was alone she'd appear. Sometimes she'd merely sit on the bed, watching him with sad, faraway eyes. Sometimes she'd scream at him, pounding his chest, making the blood splatter, as she berated him for lying to her, blaming him for all that had happened to them. Other times he'd envision her walking in while Angelus was there. Her entire aura would exude a cold detachment as she'd stop Angelus from his torture and pull him to the bed. He would be helpless to stop the vision, unable to look away as she fucked him right in front of him. Once or twice he'd dream of her forgiveness, of her coming to him as she was now, and cradling him in her arms. She'd call him Angel and whisper over and over how much she loved and forgave him. Those hallucinations didn't come too often, and for that he was grateful. It always made reality all the more painful when it came crashing back in.

She was speaking now, and he wondered which vision this one would be. "Angel," she whispered tentatively, her anguish evident in both her face and her voice, "Angel, please answer me. Goddess, please don't let me be too late." Her hand lightly caressed his forehead, pushing damp strands of hair away from his eyes so she could stare into them, probing for signs of intelligence.

Angel felt himself relaxing at her touch. Despite the fact that every inch of his body felt like it was on fire, his skin as sensitive to touch as raw nerve endings, her hands managed to soothe him like those of a mystical healer. It was as if her hands were a direct conduit for the love she felt for him, the depth of her emotions acting as a balm to both his physical and emotional wounds.

He tried to lift his head further, tried to speak but couldn't. To her the only visible movement was the occasional blinking of his eyelids and the faint rise and fall of his chest. He could sense the panic welling up inside of her as he continued to remain silent, unable to speak no matter how hard he tried. He knew she was on the verge of hysteria and there was nothing he could do to reassure her. It hurt too much to even try. Even though she was just another hallucination, he didn't want anything he did to hurt her.

She was crying now. He couldn't see because the muscles in his neck had given out, his head slumping like a broken flower stem. But he felt her tears as she fell to her knees before him, cradling his body against hers, her chin resting lightly on the top of his head. Even though all he wanted was to hold and be held by her, he wished he could push her away. He hated the idea of his blood staining her skin and dress, tainting her innocent beauty.

Willow didn't seem to mind. She kept on holding him, oblivious to the blood though trying to be careful around his wounds. She didn't want to end up hurting him by reopening wounds that weren't totally healed. Hoping he could hear her, Willow began to unburden her soul, offering up explanations she felt he needed to know. "Angel, I'm sorry, this is all my fault. I know that. I just… I couldn't think of any other way out of this mess. I had to trick Angelus into trusting me enough that he wouldn't hesitate to leave me alone in the house with you; only it took a week for him and Buffy to leave at the same time. That's why I couldn't come to you before today. And now it's too late… please, please, please don't be too late. Please say something Angel." Willow paused, waiting in vain for a sign she knew wasn't coming. She could feel his body moving with each labored breath. Each exhalation sounded as if it was his last- as if his life force was being pushed out of his throat on a breathe of air. Fearful, Willow rushed on.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you with the whole catatonic/amnesia act. When Angelus was going on about who you really were it was the only plan I could think of. I needed to get him to let his guard down so that I'd have a chance to rescue you." Willow began to cry harder, as if realizing how futile her rescue attempt had become. "Please don't leave me, Angel… not so soon; not when we've just found each other. Goddess, it's not fair. I love you, Angel. I love you."

As Willow sobbed, desperately clutching his broken body to hers as if she could mend him with the strength of her body and will, Angel felt his own desperation slip away. He knew now that this was no hallucination, no feverish last attempt by his brain to cling to some vestiges of sanity. His body had been holding on, waiting for this moment so that his heart and soul could hear what it needed to before being able to move on. As she confessed her love for him- not for Adrian, but for Angel- he felt his entire being, weary from its harsh journey, begin to shrug off its mortal coil. He had held on for so long, hoping for this moment and now he could finally slip the surly bonds of earth and move on.

With a last rallying of strength, Angel managed to whisper, "I love you too, Willow. Always."

Willow pulled back, desperate hope at his words washing over her, banishing her tears. She searched his face, her own crumpling once again as she took in the peaceful expression on his face. She swept his now motionless body in her arms, holding him to her for dear life because she knew the moment she let go- accepting his death- she would cease to exist.

~Part: 20~

**Hey you out there in the cold
Getting naked, getting old can you feel me?
Hey you, standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles can you feel me?
Hey you, don't help them to bury the light
Don't give in without a fight**

**"Hey You"- Pink Floyd**
 

Los Angeles Two Weeks Later

Willow had always loved Los Angeles in the summertime. Sometimes, when she was younger, her father had let her accompany him on business trips to LA. She remembered how awed she would be by the huge, fancy hotels and the crowded beaches with their never-ending stretches of golden sand and the glistening jewel of the ocean. But things were different now. Willow was grown up, and the city no longer held any mythical beauty for her. As she walked the streets, shopping for new clothes on Angelus' dime, all Willow felt was the crushing weight of despair. Like an automaton, she went through the motions of life without really experiencing anything.

Sometimes it amazed her that she was even able to carry on the masquerade. Perhaps it was because she no longer felt alive. In essence, her soul had fled her body the second Angel's had, leaving her a pale husk of the woman she had been. Only survival instinct and the burning desire to avenge Angel's death had kept her from remaining by the side of her dead lover's body. Angelus had never suspected a thing, and so her cover had not been blown. She'd even managed to somehow act happy when Angelus told her the news of Angel's demise. They'd left the next day for Los Angeles and had been staying there while Angelus took care of some business or another. Willow wasn't quite sure and didn't really care. It infuriated her how life went on around her as if nothing had changed- as if the only man she could ever loved wasn't dead, as if she wasn't dead inside.

She remained with Angelus, under the guise of her amnesiac state, barely tolerating his attempts to woo her into giving up her virginity to him. She knew he was losing patience with her pleas for more time to get used to him again, and it wouldn't be long before he forced the issue. Time was running out and if she wanted to get her revenge, however she decided to do that, she would have to act soon.

Willow stopped in front of a trendy boutique, starring with unseeing eyes at the mannequins in the window as her heart and mind tried to work up the courage it would take for her to complete the one thing that kept her alive. It wasn't that she didn't hate Angelus enough to actually kill him- it was that she couldn't imagine looking at the face of the man she loved and watch it disintegrate into dust. True, the face of the man she had fallen in love with had been that of Adrian's, but she couldn't help but associate her lost love with the body he had inhabited for two and a half centuries. She wasn't sure she'd be able to actually kill him when it came down to the crunch. One look into those eyes and she feared she'd crumble under her regret. If only she'd known who he was earlier, if only they had found each other sooner, if only she'd gotten to him a few days earlier. If only, if only, if only- her heart was bruised from them.

It would have to be tonight- if she waited any longer she would risk her entire charade blowing up in her face. Angelus would fully claim her as his and she didn't think she could maintain her façade if things went too far. Already she was fighting her body's revulsion at his touch, trying hard to keep her inner feelings from taking on an externality. Tonight Buffy's prophecy would come true- one way or another it would all be over soon.

Startled out of her thoughts by the sound of someone rather obnoxiously clearing their throat, Willow turned to find a short, badly dressed man standing beside her. It was evident from the way his hands fidgeted with the brass buttons of his jungle print shirt that he'd been there for awhile, waiting for her to notice him. With cold, disinterested eyes, which she hoped conveyed how much she wanted to be left alone with her misery, Willow gave him a once over. Besides the fact that he was inappropriately dressed for the typical mid-80's California summer day, complete with a checkered wool jacket and clashing black hat, Willow was surprised to see that he was watching her with warm, friendly eyes. Not only was there recognition in the depths of his eyes, but also a touch of sadness and sympathy. They gave her the sense that he knew everything about her and her losses and was mourning them with her.

He waited for her to finish her once over before speaking. It also gave him the time to completely absorb the vast emptiness he saw in her eyes. It wasn't as if he'd never seen it before; many humans had experienced losses such as hers, killing off all semblance of life within them before their natural deaths. However, seeing what had become of this young witch was especially hard, especially since he shared in her loss.

Pushing aside his own emotions with an ease born of long practice, he introduced himself. "I'm Whistler."

The name was vaguely familiar to Willow, and she found herself trying to place it. She thought perhaps Angel had mentioned something about a friend named Whistler but she couldn't remember specifics. Of course, Angel had often shied away from going into detail with a lot of his stories. When Willow had thought it was Adrian, the cryptic nature of his personality had always annoyed her. Now that she knew the man she had fallen in love with had been Angel, it all fit: Angel was the King of Cryptic Guys. Add to that his Clark Kent/Superman like duality and his preference of minimalist conversation techniques made perfect sense, though no less annoying. Of course, it also made Willow wonder just how much she actually knew about the man she loved.

"I see from your lack of recognition over my name that Angel still hasn't lost that cheeky mystique those who know him love to hate," Whistler added wryly. Willow surprised herself by actually giving a small smile of acknowledgement. There was something about his blunt honesty that appealed to her, and she found herself warming to the man, her entire demeanor softening and becoming less guarded. "Not that I like speaking ill of the dead, though in this case since he's not really dead I suppose I can get away with it, huh. Which brings me around to my reason for being here, though I don't think a crowded daytime LA street is really the place for this conversation. How about you let me buy you a drink. I know a great bar right off Sunset- not too far from here. The bartenders a cousin of Willie's so maybe you won't be too homesick there- but don't worry." He added at the panicked look on her face. "He doesn't tolerate the sunlight intolerant clientele, if you catch my drift. Only demons, which is why it's one of my favorite hideouts."

To his delight, Willow nodded her agreement without any protestations. He couldn't help but wonder if she was always this agreeable or if it was a side effect of her grief. Whatever it was, it was gonna make his mission a lot easier if she took everything he said with minimal disagreements.

They walked to the bar in silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them to refrain from conversation till they arrived at their destination. Willow chose a corner booth in the darkened bar as Whistler ordered them some drinks from the bartender- something tropical he had promised. The only other clientele were a pair of red faced, multi-horned demons sitting at the bar. Willow might have feared them if she'd come across them in some darkened alley in the dead of night, but their present conversation was anything but scary. Ironically, they were in the middle of a heated debate over the next presidential election, arguing the merits and demerits of each respective candidate. They had even raised their glasses to her in cheers as she first entered the bar. Bewildered, Willow turned her attention away from the pair as Whistler joined her, two glasses of what looked to Willow like frozen strawberry margaritas, complete with baby umbrellas, in his hand. Amused, Willow watched as Whistler sipped the frothy liquid through the tiny red straw, her own drink remaining untouched. She never had been much of a drinker.

When he had sucked the entire drink up in one long sip, Whistler sat back with a contented sigh. "Nobody makes 'em quite like Lenny." He nodded towards her drink. "Try it, you don't want to miss out on a taste like this. The fruit explodes in your mouth- you can barely taste the alcohol. Oh it's there, but you'd never know it." He pushed the glass towards Willow and waited for her to take a sip before continuing. "Now, you probably have a few questions, though how I know that, considering how you haven't said word one since I met you, is a mystery even to me. But I can only assume since Angel told you nothing about me. Oh where to start, where to start… I suppose the cliched explanation of who and what exactly I am should come first. In case you're slow and couldn't pick up on the hints I've been throwing out, I'm a demon. I'm not a bad guy though. Considering how you've only been schooled in Watcher Ideology, or as I like to think of it- propaganda- you should know that not all demons are bent on the destruction of all things good and living. Basically, I'm one of the good demons."

Willow looked skeptical, so Whistler amended his usual explanation. "This would make more sense to you if you're education in the supernatural hadn't been so one sided. The Watcher's need to keep the good/evil line clearly demarcated for the Slayers so they don't find themselves questioning their duty in the middle of a life or death fight. To them, all the slayer needs to know is that Demon=Bad, and don't even get me started on the whole all vampires are evil thing. We've tried to reason with them over the years, make them realize that their old fashioned ideology was becoming more of a hindrance to the Slayer in the Modern Era, but they're very stubborn. We're hoping they'll come around soon. It's not like we don't have the time to wait them out."

Willow couldn't help but interrupt. "Who's we? The Good Demons?"

Whistler smirked. "Yeah, sort of. When I say we I'm talking about everyone on the side of Good. That includes the good demons, The Powers That Be, the Oracles, The Council of Elders, and all the other leaders in the wonderful political machine running things. Oh, I'm a member of the Council, by the way, but we don't really have time to get into my rather long list of credentials. I've been trying to get the Council to invest in some badges- it would save a lot of lengthy conversation." Whistler broke off as Willow snorted in her attempt to smother her laughter. Smiling, Whistler gave Willow another once over. "You know, you're pretty sexy when you smile like that. I can see why Angel picked you over the slayer. Not that she's not a cute piece of ass herself, especially now that she's all vampy- black leather is definitely the right look for her. Have you ever considered it- I think it could bring out a whole new side of your personality you've never considered. Or not." Whistler quickly changed directions as Willow glared at him. "Don't get me wrong, I'd choose you over her any day. You've got that timeless, mystical beauty, what with your red hair and all that raw, untapped power. Everyone on the Council agrees- that Angel is one lucky guy."

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk to much?" Willow couldn't keep her annoyance out of the quip.

"Ouch, you wound me. Angel used to say it all the time but coming from a man of such few words as himself I never took it to heart. Since I'm supposed to be doing the explaining thing, I wouldn't be complaining if I were you. Then there's the fact that you've just spent months not having things explained to you and look where it's gotten you. I'd think you'd be refreshed by the change."

"Alright, I see your point, but could we just move on to the part where you tell me why you're here? I kind of have a limit to the amount of time I can spend away from Angelus, or don't you know that?"

"Touché. Now where was I? Oh right, so anyway, I'm the man who saved your love Angel from a desolate and lonely life of living on the streets, whining and moping over how cruel fate was to curse him with a soul and a demon. Man, you wouldn't have believed what he looked like when I found him in Manhattan all those years ago- and the smell! You don't even want to know about the smell. Let's just say it wasn't pretty. He was a far far cry from the mysterious, suave loverboy you and the slayer fell in love with. You can thank me for that. I cleaned him up and taught him everything I know." Willow eyed Whistler with a look that could only be described as outright disbelieving. She gave the demon a once over, her eyes lingering on the florescent green tie that clashed horribly with the rest of his outfit.

Prickling defensively, Whistler muttered, "What is it with creatures from Earth and their boring taste in fashion. Anyway, I was sent to enlist him as a warrior for the forces of good. We gave him the special job of protecting the slayer. We all saw potential in him- he could become somebody if he had the right help, i.e. me. Besides, he had a lot to make up for as his years as Angelus. True, it wasn't his soul that did any of it, but the taint was still there. So instead of letting him waste away and contribute nothing to the world, we decided he could be of some use. I trained him and sent him on his mission. Can I help it if he had to go and get all head over heels infatuated with the slayer. It wasn't supposed to happen that way, but that boy's been doing things ass backward since the day he was born. If he'd just recognized you as the one he was supposed to be with from the beginning, so many of this could have been avoided. Now everything's off track and my ass is on the line with the PTB's. I've gotta fix things so they're the way they're supposed to be or else we're gonna have a lot more problems than a renegade Apocalypse loving vampire on our hands."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute? Are you saying Angel and I were supposed to fall in love three years ago? That it was fated by the PTB's? Why? And what exactly is off track now? What's gonna happen that a quick stake to the heart wouldn't avoid?"

"Yes to the first part, and as for the second part, I can't answer that, yet." Willow opened her mouth to complain but Whistler rushed on, cutting her off. "Look, it's not time for you to know yet. It would make things even more fucked up than they already are. Just take my word for things. Everything will be revealed in due time just as soon as I put things right."

Willow grudgingly let the issue drop, but picked up on something else she was curious about. "What exactly are you gonna do to put things back on track. I mean, isn't it a little late for damage control?" Willow began to squirm under Whistler's gaze. The look in his eyes told her he had expected better of her.

"If I didn't know better Id wonder about that huge intellect of yours. Don't play the naïve, innocent with me, as if you still had the wool pulled over your eyes and had no idea about the real big bad world out there. You know as well as I do that staking Angelus isn't the only way to get rid of him."

"If you're referring to the soul restoration spell then I think we're a few centuries late. Ms. Calender told us the spell was lost even to the gypsies, and they're the ones who did the original curse."

Whistler fought to keep the bite out of his answer. "Ms. Calender was telling the truth as far as she knew it. The spell is lost- to humans. But I'm not human, and we're not exactly hindered by a little something such as a dead human language. For us there's no such thing as a dead language- we know them all. Hell, even if that language really was dead, there are a million other restoration spells we could use, and if the PTB's wanted they could restore Angel's soul in a blink of an eye. The point is, Angel's soul can be restored, this time by a non-vengeful friend, and that's exactly what's gonna happen. I don't usually interfere this directly but time is of an issue. I'm going to have to get my hands dirty to accomplish what I want. Willow." Whistler snapped his fingers in front of the shocked witch's face. "Come on, snap out of it. I know it's a lot to absorb but we don't have time for such indulgences." Whistler wondered if maybe he'd pushed the girl too far, too fast with his information. She wasn't moving or saying anything and as the minutes dragged on he began to get worried. Relief washed over him as tears began to run from her eyes, though it quickly turned into sympathy as her face became animated once again, her small body hunching over as sobs racked her.

Moving to the other side of the booth, Whistler wrapped an arm around Willow, pulling her against his body so she could pillow her face against his shoulder and cry comfortably. Despite what he'd just said, he couldn't bring himself to stop her from giving in to her tears. With all the girl had been through she deserved the indulgence, and he wasn't going to deny her it.

Long after Willow's tears had run dry her body was plagued with dry, heaving sobs. When those finally left her, leaving her body still against Whistler's, Willow lifted her flushed, tear stained cheek off his shoulder and gave him a tentative smile. She hadn't meant to break down so completely in front of the demon but, amazingly, she didn't feel embarrassed, despite the huge wet spot that now stained his shirt, visible evidence of her lack of control. She knew he understood her need for emotional release, and the fact that he'd offered her the silent comfort of a shoulder to cry on endeared the demon to her immensely. Within the short span of an hour she already counted him as one of her cherished friends, and if he really did what he said he had planned, she would love him forever, even offering up her first born in gratitude.

Whistler laughed good-naturedly. "Are you always so hyperbolic with your thanks. Don't worry, you'll end up repaying me in the future, and not in some Godfather kind of way, and it definitely won't be anything as severe as that. You'll understand what I mean when the time comes. Although, if you feel the need to do something a little extra, I know a motel not far from here that… Ow." Whistler rubbed the side of his abdomen recently vacated by Willow's elbow. "Jeez, I was only kidding. I'd better apologize for the reading your thoughts thing. I try not to but that last thought was broadcast so loud I couldn't help but catch it. Now, if you're done bruising me for my help, let's get a move on. We've got a lot of work to do before dark; or at least I do- you really only need to sit around and look pretty."

Whistler took Willow by the hand and began to lead her out of the bar. She stopped him as they reached the door. "Thank you, Whistler." The depth of emotion evident in her voice made the simple thanks heavy with meaning. Blushing, Whistler ducked his head. "Yeah well, just remember you wanted this the next time Angel gets all broody and cryptic and refuses to tell you something important. I can't be responsible for all his actions." Willow swatted him on the arm playfully. As they made their way through the streets of LA, Willow felt lighter and more alive than she had in weeks. The demon had given her back something she had been positive she'd lost forever- hope.

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