PART NINE

Willow was lead into a spacious yet antiqued conference room. Giles stood at the end of it, gazing out at the city.
"Hey, G-man,"she said softly, for old times sake.
"Willow," he said, almost suprised. They hugged and she was suprised by the intensity of emotion that came off of him.
"Missed you, too," she choked. "Need air now."
"Yes," he said, stepping back and straigtening his vest. "My apologies. I'm simply glad you made your journey safely."
"Yeah, those new-fangled flying machines are a marvel of the times--"
"Willow," he whispered, voice choked. "You're in great danger."
"Danger? What do you mean?"
He removed his glasses, a simple gesture that none the less made her ache for home.
"You'd better sit down."
***
"Oh, God," Willow said simply. "He. . .didn't tell me all that."
"Wesley was instructed to give you the barest of briefings possible, which he obviously did. I do wish, though, he had warned you just a little.  . .bumbling bastard."
"Still no watcher-love between you two, huh?"
"I should say not."
The heavy doors of the room slammed open. A very angry looking Angel came through.
"There you are," he said, storming across the room and embracing Willow. He glared at Giles. "This has been the most. . .frustrating and. . .irritating. . .and *useless* day of my life. I can't get anyone to tell me anything, from where are we going and where is Willow to does this flight serve peanuts. I have been led around in circles, lied to, and treated like a second-class citizen. Now, whould someone please, *please* tell me what the fu--"
"Here, honey, have a scone." Willow jammed a pastry in his mouth. He glared at her. Giles blinked in his migraine way.
"Yes, well, Angel, welcome to Council Headquarters. Get used to it."
Angel seethed for a few minutes, then sat down in one of the chairs.
"Angel." Willow sat down and took his hand. "Giles has an explanation for what happened last night."
He was instantly alert, looking expectantly at Rupert. "Well?"
"She was channeling."
"Obviously, but wh--"
"The goddess."
He sat back in the chair. "That's impossible. The incantations, the ceremonies, take hours for that sort of thing. We were just. . .um, uh. . ."
Willow cleared her throat. "Yes, that would be true. If *we* were the ones looking for her, but. . . Giles?"
"As both of you know, Willow is the Eternal Child, a mystical weapon. Her potential for power is mind-boggling. If the goddess needed to comunicate something, some divergence in the circle, Willow would be her logical. . ."
"Psychic telephone?"
"Well, yes, so to speak."
"I'm with you so far, but . . .the message, it wasn't anything. . ."
"I understand. But Willow, in all likelyhood, was an unreceptive host." He raised a hand at her protest. "Think about it, Willow. You had no idea what was going on and therefore resisted it out of fear."
She looked away and nodded. Angel squeezed her hand in comfort. Service to the goddess was foremost in wiccan culture, and to have rejected something like this, even unknowledgebly, was a mojo boo-boo.
"So are we going to try it again?" she asked.
Giles nodded. "I'll get to that." He hoisted, big suprises here, a leather bound book and handed it to her.
She studied the rune marking the prophecy.
"Gebo? Gift or sacrifice. I don't want to have to hear about sacrifice if I'm about to face an armageddon."
"My sentiments exactly. Read on."
" 'The Child'-- that would be me? Good -- 'will form a union with the Daywalker and pierce the veils of the World of Soul's and the Demon Dimension when the moon draws them together.' " Willow shut the book and looked at him. "Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do."
Giles sighed. "At the end of the month, there is--"
"A solar eclipse. We had big fun planned." She looked crestfallen at the expression of Giles's face. "Big fun just got cancelled, didn't it?"
"I'm afraid so.  You see, it is believed by some that the demon dimension is controlled by the moon's phases." He looked at Angel, who shrugged.
"I don't know. Acathla, to my knowledge, had little to do with the phases. You weren't too forthcoming with info on that one. And as far as time in the dimension went. . .I wasn't. . .I couldn't tell you."
An uneasy air was settling in. . .this was rough ground to be treading. Willow shook her head and sat up.
"What's the point, Giles?"
"The point is, the eclipse, where the moon settles in front of the sun, may cause the veils between the worlds, ours and the dimension, to overlap and pierce."
"Demon wackiness ensues?"
"Yes."
"So how do we stop it?"
"That's where you come in."

PART TENWillow shrugged into a Sunnydale High football jersey, her preferred sleeping gear. It had been a graduation gift from Larry the jock, who had mumbled an excuse about how much he missed Xander or something. . .she hadn't even known they knew each other that well. Angel had told her with a slight quirk of the lips that he wasn't threatened by Larry's gesture and had then burst into a fit of laughter when she told him she thought that was mature of him. He had insisted she wash it several times, though, after a few occasions when he had pulled her close only to have his olfactory senses over-loaded with Larry-smell instead of the much more pleasent Willow-smell.
She raised her hair-brush and pulled in unceremoniously through her shoulder-length red hair. Large hands, invisible in the mirror she was facing, were suddenly splayed across her stomach, kneeding the muscles gently. She lowered her arms and tilted her head back to kiss the underside of his jaw. For once his skin was warm, still slightly damp from the shower he had just taken.
"Mmmm, hello," she mumbled sleepily, a yawn overtaking her.
Still keeping her locked in the shelter of his arms, Angel kissed her softly and deeply, his hands continuing their soothing strokes on her exhausted muscles.
"Quite a day, wasn't it?" he mumbled against her neck.
"You can say that again," she conceeded, closing her eyes.
"Quite a day, wasn't it?"
"You can say that again. See, it's annoying, isn't it? Smartass."
"Tired?" he asked.
"Exhausted. It's not everyday you find out you're the rubber tire in the galaxy's version of bumper cars."
"Kind of a raw deal, huh?"
"It defiantly has a chafing quality to it, yeah." She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget about it for a few hours."
She couldn't see his face, but she knew he was smirking. "Anything I can do to help?"
"I could think of a few things."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She smiled. "A foot massage, for instance, would be great. And it's just so sweet of you to offer."
***
Angel woke slowly, a contended smile spreading across his face. He glanced down at the woman sleeping peacefully beside him, drinking in the beautiful lines of her cheek and the rosy curves of her parted lips. "No, Eliot, leave the frogs alone. . .let 'em die . . .what do I care. . ." she mumbled, eyelashes fluttering.
He laughed at her softly (only his Willow would be having nightmares about harmless amphibians the night after having discovered the prophecy that could end the world), then leaned down to gently kiss her awake.
Her face cupped in his hand, he felt her eyelashes flutter against his thumb.
"Good morning," he mumbled into her mouth. He was vaugely aware of street noise sounding far away, but life in L.A. had made both of them immune to the sound of sirens.
"MMmmm-hmmm," she purred, returning the kiss and tracing small circles on the back of his hand. She giggled slightly, and began to kiss down his neck. "You were wonderful last night," she whispered. "Thank-you."
He made a non-commital moan as she increased the pressure with her lips. Pausing to stare into his beautiful face, she asked: "How much time before we have to meet Giles?"
"Enough," he said, pulling her closer.
It was then that their bedroom door burst open and several men in black suits came busting in.
***
Angel, instantly threatened, leapt from bed with his game face on. He stood, panting and feral, in front of Willow, his body launguage daring one of them to move forward.
"Infiltration has begun. Repeat: we have leeches in the building," one of them said into his cuff.
<Leech?!> Willow thought, bewildered. <What on Earth? Ooops, guess no one informed them of Angel's. . .er, situation.>
She stepped forward, preparing to difuse the situation. Unfortunately, the guards didn't seem to see it that way and lunged to protect her, at the same time when Angel tried to pull her back to him. One of them shoved a crucifix into his face, and, hissing shock, he temporarily released Willow's arm. That was enough time for them, and Willow found herself being bustled out of the door wearing nothing but an over-sized shirt and panties. She heard him raging her name, then telling someone to "put that thing away before someone got hurt."
In the hallway, she finally spotted a familar face; Secret Agent Man from yesterday.
"Help," she called, twisting in the several hands that held her. He rushed to her, waving his minions away.
"Come with me, Willow, " he said. "We have a breech of security. You're in great jeop--"
"No!" she said, jerking her head back towards the room. "Not without him!"
Seeing that it would be easier not to argue, and giving his comrades a look of disgust, he stuck his head in the room.
"Oh, for Godsakes, people, didn't any of you pay attention during briefing?! He comes with us! And by the way, you all just lost your jobs."
Angel came stumbling out, with less demon and more pants on.
"Haven't you people ever heard of alarm clocks? Or knocking?" Willow demanded as she was lead down the hall. She did not recieve an answer, nor had she expected one.
 

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