Island

by Ciderbreak

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~Part: 1~

"I know this is my fault," Angel allowed through gritted teeth. His travel companion pressed her lips together, crossed her arms, and just seethed. He saw her dimly, his vampiric senses giving him the edge in the dark. "But it could be worse."

Willow was furious at the vampire's audacity, angered that his callous words brought tears to her eyes. Worse how? They'd been duped into the bait-and-switch debacle and were now drifting in the locked hull of a boat somewhere in the Pacific ocean like canned tuna. Okay, so poor planning and a mischievous Spike were technically to blame for the whole kidnapping fiasco they were now victims of, but that did not excuse the fact that Angel had killed all but one of their attackers AFTER they set sail. Then, the storm had evidently divested them of the bastard who kept them locked in the hull. Thus, with no skilled crew, causing the vessel to steer off course where they'd been adrift for three days was irrevocably his fault.

The cabin was tight and completely dark, with a bathroom so tiny it did not boast a door. Privacy wasn't a problem in the pitch blackness but claustrophobia was, and Willow was tired of being cramped into the bunk while the three dead bodies took up space on the other side of the room. The stench was becoming overwhelming, but at least they'd provided food enough for Angel to survive.

She was starving, though. The water in the airplane bathroom-sized sink slowed to a trickle about an hour ago. The fresh water stores were nearly gone and there was no food to be felt in the rest of the cabin. Something was blocking the tiny hatch that wouldn't give, her skin felt cool and clammy -was that a sign of shock?-, she desperately wanted to waste a bit more of the water to rinse out the foul taste in her mouth, and her ribs still ached from where one of the goons had slammed her against the railing of the deck. Without light she couldn't tell if they were broken and initially she was too angry and scared to let Angel touch her to see if he could sense bruising beneath the surface of her skin. Bruises meant blood, and Angel was good at blood.

Silently, she continued to brood, while every tired and frustrated nerve in her body wanted to lash out at him. Fat lot of good it would do her. The stoic vampire was nothing short of a chatterbox in the dark. She supposed, rightly, that it was to ease her worries, try and make a game out of it. But the stories he regaled her with were not Disney fare. Scary stories by daylight, scarier enough being locked in a tiny tomb with a vampire and three rapidly rotting corpses. Briefly, Willow wondered if she might die of some sort of maggot plague instead of Angel killing her, as he'd eventually have to do unless the door managed to budge. His sense of humor was dry and his storytelling macabre.

At least he stayed on his side of the room.

"It could be lots worse," Angel volunteered cheerfully, wondering how long he would have to keep talking before Willow broke down in tears. Her careful composure unnerved him. Half the time he wondered if she'd dropped unconscious over there, huddled underneath a yellow raincoat on the skinny bunk.

"Shut. Up."

Angel sighed inwardly and deftly moved towards the door of the hull. There was a new, rhythmic clanging noise that might mean some objects were moved from the storm they'd weathered last night. If so, there could be a chance that the door would open now. He clung tightly to that plan. It was plan A. Comforting, secure, easy. Get out into the boat, get to the radio, call for help, back in California lickety-split.

The door budged open a little. Angel eased it open a little more, thankful for the darkness outside. Waiting for the sun to set would have been torture for Willow, who needed fresh air. There was nothing left in her stomach to vomit.

Willow gasped in relief. There was no mistaking the sweet salt air that rushed into the horrific bowels of the boat. She joined Angel at the little hole, allowing him to boost her through. Her ribs screamed at the unexpected movement and she lost her balance when her feet found the wooden deck, landing unceremoniously on her backside. When the wind finally returned to her, she breathed in a breath of pure, salty air and turned her gritty face up to the inky night sky.

"Thank God," Angel murmured beside her.

He smelled of death, bringing the unpleasantness of the cabin to her senses. Willow almost chuckled. She probably smelled just as bad. Taking another deep breath of fresh air made her stomach tighten to counter act the band of pain and Angel was unable to keep his hands off her for another moment and they traveled over her greasy hair, her face, down her shivering arms, prying them away from her chest. She was too weary, too hungry to protest. He tugged her shirt up and winced at the dark bruises speckling her ribs. Front and back the splotches ringed her skin, probably not indicating broken ribs but seriously annoying without the benefit of aspirin to take the edge off. His long, blood-stained fingers pressed lightly over the biggest one, eliciting a whimper from Willow who pushed ineffectually at his hands.

"Okay, shh." The comforting words fell off his lips. He wanted to gather her into his arms and rock her until her tears finally fell, but that would hurt her. And he'd done enough of that, Angel reflected, guilt flooding into his heart at the pain in her darkened blue eyes.

"I can see you," Willow said randomly. "See everything. Stars."

Angel followed her elated gaze upwards, losing himself for a blissful moment in the quiet heavens. The accompanying sounds were the sloshing of the waves against the boat and the clank of a metal ring against the side of the boat.

It was almost romantic, except for the rotting corpses in the hull, his battered companion, and the lack of food or water.

"Stars," Willow repeated, reaching up to touch them. Being effectively blind for three days had addled her brain a little and the salt air was making her giddy. "And- uh, palm trees." Her voice rose a little at the end of that observation and Angel picked his head up, focusing on the horizon.

"Huh."

Willow giggled now, unable to help it. He rose to his feet and she joined him on wobbly legs, one arm around her ribs.

"You talk non-stop about things that go bump in the night trying to comfort me but really scaring me out of my brain, and now when our broken boat is about to hit land all you can say is 'huh'?" she said, but her voice wasn't angry anymore. It was bemused, maybe downright mocking.

Angel didn't answer. Instead, he gripped the railing and looked grimly towards the approaching stretch of beach and the tropics beyond. Perhaps the lickety-split back to California part of his plan would be tweaked a little.

~Part: 2~

Willow thought she was done being sick, but the boat lurched onto land with a scrape and her stomach did the same. She breathed heavily, trying to calm her head and stop the dry heaves. She rested on her knees, clammy forehead pressed to the metal railing. Angel ignored the fact that they were now beached and sank down beside her.

"Okay?" he asked softly, one hand at the small of her back. It felt good, solid, comforting, and Willow nodded. No use in getting all weepy now. They could just walk 'til they found a town and then use someone's phone, stash Angel till the next nightfall, and get back to LA as soon as possible. She suggested that to Angel and he helped to her feet but didn't comment on her plan until she pressed him about it.

"Angel?"

"Shelter, water, food, rescue. In THAT order," he stressed.

"No Club Med?" Willow couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah, okay, Cordelia," Angel shot back at her. Then jumped over the side of the boat and steadied himself in the knee-deep water. Oh, the solid ground felt good! He relished the room to stretch and couldn't wait to strip out of his clothes and scrub clean in the ocean. Turning to Willow, he held out his arms.

"Jump."

A hundred protests died on Willow's lips when she saw his face- he knew it would hurt, knew she was scared and it pained him too. But there was no other way.

"Survival mode, Willow," she chided herself, and launched herself off the side of the boat. A short scream left her lips when Angel's arms came around her, holding her tight against him. He let her slide down and find her own footing, then smiled.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked with his arms around her waist.

"Actually--"

"That was rhetorical," he grumbled, and looked up and down the deserted beach. Not even a whisper of humanity. Palm trees swayed gently in the cool night breeze, bringing the scent of lush flowers and vegetation to their nostrils, soothing their worried souls. Willow swallowed, looking around herself, and ventured a dismal thought out loud.

"We're shipwrecked."

"Yeah," Angel agreed emotionlessly.

"It could be worse," Willow offered hopefully, stabbing him with his own optimism.

Angel replied with a grunt and started stripping his clothes off. At the first sight of his bare chest glowing pale in the moonlight Willow stepped back and clapped her hands over her ears.

"Wrong," Angel laughed as she immediately corrected herself and covered her eyes with a squeak.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, hearing the wet plop of his pants as they were also cast off into the ocean.

"I don't want the stench of death on me anymore," Angel replied simply, but there was a sort of masked pain in his voice and Willow swallowed hard. She'd been wrapped up in her own pain both physical and emotional, but he hadn't been in paradise feeding off three dead would-be killers with her in direct proximity to hear, smell, and see his savagery. And she didn't want to smell like that rot either.

"Okay, Adam and Eve it is," she said with false bravado, finally divesting herself of the clothes she'd been in for three days. They were covered in blood and puke anyway, she reasoned as she gingerly pulled her sweater over her head. Angel was there, silently helping her so she wouldn't have to raise her arms completely and stretch her swollen ribcage. She let him get rid of her pants and underwear while she unsnapped her bra and cast it aside. It was a weird sensation going from cramped and frightened to free and uninhibited. Very strange.

"Just sit down and use the sand to scrub clean," Angel instructed her, demonstrating. No lewd comments, no lingering stares at her nudity. She respected him by returning his attitude of honor, though she couldn't help but appreciate his beauty. She liked the way he moved so gracefully without clothes, like he was some sort of creature in his true form. The souled vampire ignored her as he pressed handfuls of sand into his hair and scrubbed away the grime of captivity, rinsing it with the warm salty water. Every inch of his skin felt tingly when he finished bathing and he hardly cared that the salt would dry on him and he'd feel sticky in the morning. At least the blood was gone, washed away in the tide.

Willow was slow to finish, painfully aware of every little bump or bruise she'd obtained on their journey. Muscles she didn't even know she had woke up and started complaining. Angel waited until her little splashing sounds ceased, then turned and drew her further out into the ocean, away from the boat.

Willow blushed as the breeze touched her damp cheeks. She liked being weightless in the water, liked the buoyant feeling on her abused flesh. She liked floating next to Angel, who remained completely unfazed by their lack of clothing. He made it seem natural, which she supposed it was. They came into the world naked, from liquid, and now they were back in warm water that rocked them mother-like.

"Ever been skinny-dipping?" Angel asked her. Willow laughed and lost her balance in the water. Tightening her stomach muscles, she struggled to get afloat again before she answered.

"Yes. One night after we'd been up researching Buffy and I streaked the hallways and then jumped into the pool."

"Serious?" Angel turned his head and caught her gaze with his liquid dark eyes. Willow let a little smile onto her lips and refused to answer. Angel's grunt this time was a little less-caveman, a little more human.

"Angel, what are we going to do?" she asked quietly. "For real."

It was several minutes before he spoke. The trees still whispered their soothing melody to the couple in the waves and their weariness ebbed away with each breath. It was close to perfect peace, except for the unanswered questions.

"Float here a little more. Then go back on the beach and find somewhere for me to spend the day while you search the island for a radio tower or something. There's no one on this island besides us."

"Is that a vampire thing? That you can tell?"

"I'm in survival mode. I'd sense another human if there was one to sense. We're probably near... ah, hell. I have no idea where we are. Just be glad we floated south instead of north. But we won't die here. If there are trees and vegetation there will be fresh water and some animal life. We'll survive."

"What about... will you feed off me?" Willow's voice was smaller than the stars and sounded as far away. Angel grabbed her hand underwater and linked their pruny fingers together. His hands were so much bigger, she noticed. It made her feel safe.

"I would step into the sunlight before I fed off you. I'll live off animals I find."

"Not much nourishment."

"It'll be enough, don't worry. And there's always supplements, if we're here that long. Which we won't be. Maybe."

"What do you mean?"

"When's your period?" he asked bluntly. Willow blushed again, picturing what he would do then, but answered truthfully. Modesty would have to take a back role to survival and common sense.

"In about a week. And I don't have my prescription meds, either. And what if one of us gets sick, or really hurt?"

"Shelter, water, food, rescue," he answered, and ducked under the water one last time before standing in the shallow ocean and offering her his hand.

"I didn't know you liked to swim," Willow smiled, letting him guide her as they walked. She was incredibly tired all of a sudden, still hungry, feeling a little weakened.

"I love the ocean," Angel admitted with a chuckle. And that was all. But it was enough that his hand still clutched hers and that he kept sneaking glances at her wet form. Just little looks, no comments, and she had her own sidelong glances.

They explored the forest quietly on bare feet, seeing incredibly well in the moonlight.

"There is always a cave," Willow announced triumphantly.

Angel saw where she was looking at a small cave carved into a hill that curved up the spine of a little mountain rise. It appeared to be uninhabited by wildlife and was deeper than they expected from just looking at it. Angel could stand up at the mouth and almost stand up in the back.

"Primitive," he said.

"Godsend," Willow reminded him. "Okay, so shelter. Now water? And hurry. I'm getting a little woozy."

As though to make her point, Willow's knees refused to hold her up anymore and Angel caught her arms, steadying her.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, as though confessing some great transgression. Angel kissed the top of her wet head as a plan formed in his brain.

"Wait here for me. Can you wait here alone?"

"Am I going to get mauled by tigers?"

"No."

"Then yes, I can wait here alone." Though bone-tired, there was still a little Willow-humor, which Angel took as a good sign. Better she stay and rest than over-exert herself and go into shock. Which could still happen if he didn't act fast.

"I'll be back soon, I promise."

Angel moved quickly back to the beach, gritting his teeth for the task in front of him. It was a good thing Willow wasn't with him because she would surely balk at going back onto the boat.

But that's what he did, dragging a whole bunch of supplies onto shore. It was a fairly motley assortment: one huge coil of rope, one emergency first aid kit, some magazines, a pack of cigarettes and a couple of lighters, matches, a broken compass, some loose planks, a gallon bucket, two knives, one fork, a selection of wet blankets, one yellow raincoat, a few other odds and ends. The bedding from the hull could be aired out and necessity made him steal the Swiss Army knife off one of the dead men but he did not linger long in that dungeon. He also unearthed a store of filled gallon water jugs and one granola bar. And, strangely, a bottle of kahlua.

Willow was curled up in the fetal position when he returned and immediately unfolded a wool blanket and tucked it around her.

"No tigers," she murmured happily. Angel knelt beside her and rolled her onto her back, then pulled her to a sitting position. He held her up with one arm against his raised knee and tried to ignore her little whimpering cry as her ribs adjusted to the new position. Holding the jug to her lips, he helped her swallow some water and then took some himself. Willow was asleep before he could offer her the granola bar and he forced her awake to eat half.

"Now can I sleep?" she almost whined, snuggling against him. Angel moved them safely to the very back of the cave and piled on the blankets. The little nest was soon warm, dry, and sleep came to claim him before he had another thought.

~Part: 3~

Angel woke up with an erection.

Pretty normal for any young male sleeping totally naked next to a beautiful woman whose head was tucked under his chin and whose arm and leg pinioned his body to the ground.

He still felt guilty about it, though. It was his move to lose their clothing the night before and he felt responsible for making sure his actions didn't threaten Willow in any way. Nudity was ten times better than staying in their filthy clothing. Still, justification didn't change the fact that he was getting more aroused upon wakefulness, not less. Willow was dead to the dawn, breathing deeply, smelling now of salt.

Like a child sneaking downstairs at night without waking the family, Angel slowly lifted Willow's right arm up and off his chest. She shifted a little, allowing him to place her arm next to her face. Then he waited a full minute to assure himself that her breathing was still steady and deep. If she woke up now, it would be really embarrassing. Her right leg was wedged between his and took a little more care. He had to roll out from underneath her and hold her up, then stuff a roll of blankets where he'd lain. Otherwise her ribs would touch the ground and it could hardly be comfortable. To Angel's relief, Willow just snuggled down into the blankets and fisted her right hand near her face.

Beautiful.

"I can't believe I'm having these thoughts," Angel muttered, turning away from the naked beauty sleeping innocently. His hand automatically went to his shaft and he squeezed his eyes shut, jerking off in a few quick thrusts to relieve the pressure. Passionless, emotionless. Just a bodily function, he told himself. A morning thing. Normal. Not having anything to do with Willow. Tonight he would insist on different sleeping arrangements.

Angel settled against the side of the cave and cracked his back. Too bad the boat didn't have any books on board. Just old magazines, and they were on the beach in a pile with the rest of the cargo. Silent contemplation was a familiar pastime that would occupy Angel until Willow woke up.

Willow woke up at noon, just as Angel was dropping off to sleep again. She stretched and rolled onto her back, one hand moving protectively to her ribs. They ached less than the day before, which was comforting.

"Good morning," she smiled, and blushed.

"It's noon," Angel informed her. His voice sounded sullen, but Willow figured he must be sleepy too.

"You should really sleep more," she informed him cheerfully. "So you can be awake tonight. I might not be done sleeping either."

Angel stood up, giving him a full view of his nakedness if she wanted the view. He didn't look to see if she was looking. It was silly. If she found him attractive, or repulsive-- it bothered him that her opinion meant so much to his ego.

"You're right that we should be on the same schedule," he spoke to the mouth of the cave. "Safety in numbers. But since you're awake, why don't you go out and see if you can find any wild fruit or a fresh water source. What's in the jugs was the emergency stores from the boat, but I don't think we'll be seeing rain for this climate any time soon."

He heard Willow fussing with the blankets behind him, and half-turned to witness her smoothing out the twisted fabric and folding back one edge, like she was turning down a hotel bed.

"I won't go far," she promised, slipping out into the sunshine. The flush on her cheeks was evidence enough of her embarrassment at being naked in the daylight, in front of him, but to her credit she did not squeal or chide him to keep his gaze averted. Angel was glad. If he could be mature about it, so could she.

"Stay where I can hear you..." he almost said "scream" but thought better of it. Willow frowned and looked upon the green semi-jungle with a little bit more trepidation than before. There was no eye contact between them.

"Sleep tight," she said, and left the cave. Angel heard her huge sigh of relief and her sarcastic next sentence, obviously not meant for his ears.

"Once more, with Tension!"

There was more, but he couldn't hear everything. With a sigh he sank to the ground and curled up in their bed, trying to block out the scent of Willow so he could get some real sleep.

"Angel."

Angel grunted and opened one eye to see Willow on her knees in front of him. She was wearing the yellow raincoat.

"Angel, it's sunset."

"Completely?" he asked, rising and reaching to shake out the blankets. She intercepted him, folding them expertly. It was a domestic move that made his throat tighten in a funny way. Housekeeping with Willow on a deserted island. He could certainly think of worse ways to spend eternity.

"Yes."

Willow hesitated. She had so much to tell him, so much to report, including the discovery of a fresh water source and a ramshackle old hut made from bamboo. With some work, it could be a cute little shelter. If, you know, they had to stay. But he looked grumpy and intimidating with his scowl in place and she didn't know how to approach him.

It also made her mad. Okay, so she wasn't Buffy. She didn't hold his heartstrings and she couldn't save the day. But there was a lot of other good stuff she could do and she needed to talk to someone. Him. Angel. The huge naked man looming in front of her.

"What."

It wasn't a question, and Angel cursed his own voice. He knew he was intimidating her and hoped she'd rise up and call him on it before he went out to feed.

"Hey, be nice," Willow protested, folding her arms.

Good! Angel cheered silently. He gave her a small smile to let her know he was just sleepy, not mad at her. Then he spun around and walked out of the cave, feeling his penis twitch warningly at the sight of the hem of her raincoat rising when she'd crossed her arms. He knew what shapely legs and soft, springy curls were hidden from his sight, knew the pert, small breasts.... and that's all he'd know. Just the sight. Not the intimate touch, not the taste. He would not know what made her catch her breath or how much preparation her body required before he could sink into her....

"Be careful!" Willow's voice called after him as he moved swiftly away from the cave in search of food. Did she not know how hard this was for him? Did she know that it wasn't just her body that was turning him on but her whole character, from her choosing to be cheerful about their predicament to the way she fiddled with her hands when she was nervous? Angel shook his head.

"I'll just have to show her," he spoke to the rising moon, and cleared his head.

He needed to hunt.

~Part: 4~

Angel watched Willow from a hidden position behind a wide palm tree. He rested one hand on the spiny bark and shifted his weight onto one hip, his mind settling into "lurker" mode. It was a beautiful sight that he couldn't intrude on.

The hunt was successful and his body no longer screamed for blood. He could feel his patience returning, knew he would be thinking clear thoughts and following logical plans in no time. No more of these "I want Willow" feelings to muddle- addle? - his ravaged psyche.

Something about her attitude when they found the cave was comforting. "There's always a cave," she'd said, indicating that their situation was not unique. In a way, she was right. Angel knew the castaway lore. He'd even crafted some interesting vampire bragging rights on the fantasy back when he was Angelus, because Drusilla liked to hear about far-away exotic lands. But he didn't want to be a stereotype. Falling in love with his fellow castaway was not a romantic notion anymore, not when they lacked communication with the world, he tracked and hunted animals to feed, and Willow lived solely on bananas and bland breadfruit. Or fish, if they got that industrious. No plumbing, no medicine, no friends except each other. He wanted to go home, back to his safe, dark house, away from his redheaded friend who was making his mind wander so inefficiently.

Willow knew Angel was away, so she'd taken off the raincoat. She sat just outside the mouth of the cave and stared off into the green darkness, completely still. The moonlight cast shadows and light into the planes and whorls of her body, smooth like marble as she sat in the quiet night.

From his close vantage point Angel detected no tears on her cheeks, but her expression worried him nonetheless. She was past zoning out and into true worry. Her toes curled into the dirt at her feet with every drop of a branch, every far-away cry of unknown wildlife. She was scared, Angel could sense it in her, and yet there was a part of her that longed to uncurl her body and dance free into the night with no inhibitions.

She just didn't know how.

"Close your eyes," he thought at her, and then stepped away from the tree and said it out loud as he approached. She whipped her head around, making sure it was him.

"Angel, you're back. Did you... are you..."

"I ate. Close your eyes, Willow. Stop looking out there into the night that scares you. Tell me what you're thinking."

He knelt down behind her, his body far enough away from hers. But he couldn't help sinking his hands into her red hair because it was one of the only spots of color in the varying grayness of the night. She let out a little mewl of pleasure before letting her shoulders slump as she enjoyed him playing with her hair.

"Talk to me," Angel prodded her.

"I'm scared," she admitted in a tiny voice. "There's so much."

"What are you feeling? Tell me."

Willow took him literally and prayed he couldn't see her blush in the dim lighting. "Your hands," she whispered. "I love it when people play with my hair. It's soothing. Usually puts me to sleep but you... you wake me up."

There was a moment of silence while Angel parted her hair and kissed her on the nape of the neck. Then she started babbling in typical Willow-fashion.

"I want you to wake me up more. Thought about that while you were gone doing the vampire thing. All my summers with Xander at summer camp, all that Girl Scout readiness. I should have been devising a way off this island and instead all I thought about was you…how you're dealing with this, what you're thinking about our predicament, if you're scared or lonely like I am. And then- then I thought about how your body warmed up next to mine in bed last night even though you're usually so cool to touch... all these wrong thoughts. It's just not right."

"We pretty much had the same thoughts, then," Angel confessed, and began to massage her scalp. Willow groaned and dropped her head.

"I feel stripped of everything," she said weakly. "Clothes, normalcy... I tried to blame everything on the moon, or the trauma, but I know it's just me. R-Reacting to you- Oh, God, Angel..."

Willow's voice dropped off and then stopped completely as Angel pressed his lips to the top of her spine and started kissing a line down her back. His hands stayed in her hair, not speeding up the massage. He couldn't let her get tense again.

The adage said that nothing is certain save death and taxes. Angel scoffed inwardly at that foolish notion. Beyond those givens were other timeless mysteries not pristine enough for the history books. Like the curve of a woman's back.

When Willow shivered, she arched her shoulders and the blades revealed different lines of sinew and grace, deepening the hollow in the small of her back as her chest pressed forward, seeking the touch of his hands.

Angel denied her surcease, content to trail kisses all the way down to the cleft in her buttocks, licking that spot with the most tentative of touches before winding his mouth back up to her neck and nuzzling his head there. He burrowed as though seeking solace, animal-like. It was an appropriate response to their surroundings.

His hands stilled in her hair, thumbs pressed against pressure point sat the base of her skull, his large hands cradling the rest of her head. He darted his tongue out for another taste of her, this time touching the indentation under her ear. She shivered again. Silent.

Angel turned his attention to those little places around her ears that made her shiver and ignored the ache in his knees. The dirt was packed hard but well worth the discomfort to be able to feel Willow respond to his touch in the same way lovers had responded for centuries. Maybe even on this very island. He tapped his fingers around her ears and neck, the lightest of touches, swooping in now and then with the tip of his tongue. Her breathing grew labored as she struggled to relax. She thought he'd turn and kiss her senseless but for some reason he wasn't there yet…wasn't ready…content to wait.

"I have all night, little girl," he whispered. There was no mistaking the intention in that sentence and surprisingly, Willow pulled away from him, standing up and trying to ignore her trembling hands.

"Show me what you love," she responded, her eyes still closed. "About the island. Show me what you found, what you loved. I want to know you more before you... before we..."

Angel was a little amused at her discomfiture but got up, knees cracking, and slid his palms against hers. Willow opened her eyes and managed to muster up enough courage to look him in the eye. Angel loved the smile she gave him and knew it was because he wasn't pressuring her. No frustration in his eyes, just patience and promise of good things to come.

"A private Island tour?" he suggested. Willow squeezed his hand and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Show me Paradise, lover." Her voice was light, teasing, trying to find humor in their situation. But hearing "lover" come off her lips made Angel growl possessively and he grabbed her head again, stepped in, and lowered his forehead to hers. No kissing. Just the mingling of breath, his ragged and unnecessary but ingrained, hers shallow and fast. His manhood rose between them and this time he knew she was watching. Because he wanted her to see how much he wanted her, even if now was not the right time to finish what they'd started, he let her look her fill.

They watched together as Angel's member thickened and swelled to its full size. Willow's eyes widened. She smiled and felt the wisdom of women everywhere, basking in the little rush of power that comes with knowing exactly how her body made his react. Little thoughts of *mine* increased her adrenaline and she reached down to touch the swollen shaft barely brushing her abdomen.

Angel stopped her; his eyes closed this time. "Not yet," he pleaded. He had a plan and it did not involve her going down on him first. His vampire face emerged for a minute while he garnered the strength to will away the erection. It subsided almost completely and left him a little shaky. He hadn't called up the most pleasant of images to help him and it always left him cold. Willow's eyes widened at his incredible control but she didn't understand.

"How... why did you do that?" she asked. He stepped away from her and took her hand in his, striding confidently down the hill to the little path to the waterfall he'd found.

"I wanted you to see how you make me feel. But I wanted to be in control."

Willow chewed on that thought, rising her head to look up at the inky sky that had covered them while they floated in the ocean the night before. It was a strange sensation to be fully awake in the darkness with no test to cram for.

"Isn't love a give and take thing? What if I wanted to give?"

"You will, I promise," Angel chuckled. "I'm not gonna go all 'dominate' on you, Willow. I just... I just have it in my mind how I want to love you. And since there's no one here to stop me, I'm going to get my way. And it involves certain settings and events which-"

"You're a romantic! Silent broody vampire guy gets all gushy!" Willow skipped into her next step, wincing as her ribs moved, but happy that she had something to tease Angel about. As his friend, that was important. And as his soon-to-be----something, she liked having the upper hand. Even if he thought he was in charge, it was clear that she held some of his heartstrings that no one else could reach.

~Part: 5~

[This is better] Angel acknowledged contentedly. They had wound their way through the cane sugar to the waterfall, a small cascade of fresh water over a low rock ledge. Vegetation lined three sides of the pool and the third side was a plateau of rock where they now sat side-by-side dangling their feet in the cool water. Willow seemed relaxed and talkative instead of fearful like when he'd come back from hunting dinner. She'd shared about her day, how she plucked ripe fruit right off the trees "like in a children's book!" and how the powder-soft white sand on the beach blinded her like sun on a ski slope. Angel turned his attention to her as best he could and tried not to fall in love with her. He was failing miserably with each little funny catch of her breath, each time she made herself laugh while telling the story. It was the most peaceful romantic feeling he'd had in a while because he knew with Willow there would be no angst, no dramatic irony. He could just be himself on this island with no repercussions. It was a different kind of love, no less real. Blessedly strong enough to deny reality for awhile.

Willow finished her story- something about wanting to search the other half of the island the next night- and gingerly turned over onto her stomach. She rested her head on one curved arm and trailed the other hand in the water. Near the edge where they sat the clear water rounded a curve before flowing back into the main stream and tripping lightly down the river into the forest.

"Doesn't that hurt your ribs?" Angel asked. The purple bruises were fading into pale yellow and brown splotches.

"No, because my shoulders are up here and the rest of me rests over this little hollow. And they don't hurt nearly as much now that I'm full and rested and safe. Besides, we've been here for an hour and my butt hurts from sitting on the stone."

"Really?" Angel said playfully, scooting closer to her and resting his right hand on her upper thigh, trailing it softly over the swell of her buttocks and up her back, then back down again. She sighed happily and grinned at him with peace in her eyes.

"I sort of forget sometimes that we're, you know, naked in front of God and everybody," Willow said wonderingly. She sounded so innocent that Angel threw his head back and laughed. The unusual sound echoed over the water and was answered by a quick trill of birds.

" 'And they were naked and knew no shame', " Angel quoted, looking down at her adoringly.

"Do we? Know no shame?" Willow asked seriously as his hand resumed its path over her skin. She tightened her stomach muscles in response and kept her eyes on his. He had to know what his touch was doing to her, how her belly felt like hot swirly lava inside, how hot shoots of that molten fire sometimes shot up to her heart unexpectedly and made her blush. She blushed now under his equally serious and thoughtful gaze.

"I'm not ashamed to be this vulnerable before you. Scared, maybe, but not ashamed. There is no bad here," Angel told her sincerely. Willow smiled languorously.

"Scared of me?" More love, more power. This botched boat adventure was turning out to be a silver lining.

"No, scared of me. I don't know how much of myself I'm losing to you, and I don't care."

Willow had no words for that. She felt tears pricking her eyes and let the tears well up. They tipped over the edge but didn't fall down her cheeks; Angel's hand was there to catch the saline and bring the drops to his lips. No torrent followed. Willow beckoned him down with her eyes and felt the first of his kisses come to rest on her willing and upturned face. He pressed fluttery kisses over each eye, her nose, her forehead, nibbled delicious little bites down the arch of her neck and licked the hollow of her throat.

"Don't make me fall asleep," Willow warned him gravely when he raised his head and scooted closer still, this time rubbing slow circles in the small of her back. She carried a lot of tension there and he was making it ebb slowly out of her system. He chuckled low in his throat and gave her a wicked smile that needed no accompanying words.

Willow couldn't keep from smiling when his fingers danced lightly up her back.

"Tickles," she pouted, wanting to turn over. His hands went to her waist, stilling her.

"Don't move," he commanded, and switched positions so he sat at her feet. He took one foot in his hands and massaged it firmly, willing the tension to leave. He figured if he started at her feet and ended at her head, she'd be so ready to kiss him she might even be pleading.

Willow's eyelids fluttered shut and she sighed deeply. Giving herself over to Angel's massage was an act of trust because he left no inch of skin untouched. He spent as much time on the backs of her knees as he did on her ass, only he used varying touches. Tickling her, kneading muscle, teasing her with deft fingers and pressing hard on knots of tension. Stress flowed out of her like the waterfall. He gentled his touch on her back so he wouldn't push her ribs into the rock and pulled her left arm out of the water so he could pull and twist her supple flesh with untiring hands. When he finished giving attention to her arm he placed it carefully on the rock, angling it so she could move her head there and he could give the other arm the same treatment.

"Relaxed?" he said smugly when he'd finished up at her head, renewing the touch he'd taught her earlier with her scalp and neck.

"No."

"No? Did I forget something?" Angel's voice was lightly mocking.

Willow waited for him to relent and kiss her but he just sat there with a furrowed brow. She knew he was faking. It was driving her mad. She sat up and faced him sitting cross-legged with her back to the waterfall.

"Love is touch and communication, Willow. Tell me what you want."

"Okay," she said sweetly and placed her hands on his chest with the heels of her hands brushing his nipples. She bent her head forward and licked the hollow of his throat exactly where he'd touched her earlier but upped the ante by suckling lightly. Angel took an unneeded breath and half-smiled. This beguiling witch knew more than he thought she did and was using her powers to ensnare him. He was glad to be captive.

Willow moved her mouth around the sensitive areas of his neck, daring even to nip carefully at the skin over his jugular vein. He trembled nervously then, almost needing her to stop and she sensed it and moved away, up his face to nibble on his earlobe. She saw a tiny white scar underneath his left ear and barely had time to wonder how he got it before moving to the other ear. She couldn't get enough of tasting him, mimicking his earlier fluttering kisses that were more maddening than truly satisfying.

Finally she bent her lips to his ear and smiled through the next sentence.

"Kiss me."

It was a benediction.

Angel captured her face in his hands and found her lips already parted for him. He gave a pleased little growly noise in the back of his throat and angled his head as his tongue swept in to meet hers. Willow eagerly let him take over, let him have dominance in the kiss as their tongues swept together and tasted the other. It was a kiss to be the antithesis of all the soft gentle caresses he'd lavished on her earlier. After awhile she couldn't tell where her taste left off and his began and at that moment she drew his tongue further into her mouth and sucked down hard. He broke away with a cry, his penis rising sharply between them again.

"Wanna know what else I can do with my tongue?" she teased him, expecting him to deny her the request. But he was so surprised that all he could do was nod dumbly and push her head instinctively to his lap. Willow scrambled off the ledge and into the water, screeching a little at the coldness against her heated body. Angel quickly swung his legs over the edge and she stepped forward, her head on a perfect level with his aching member.

Their section of the pool was not a raging river but she steadied herself by pressing her feet firmly against the bottom of the pool shoulder width apart.

With one last adoring glance up at Angel, Willow took a deep breath and reached for him. His smooth, heavy cock twitched in her palm as she pumped him once to full size like he'd been before, knowing that this time he wouldn't deny himself the release. He was huge, bigger than-but no, comparisons were supposed to be *bad* and anyway, it was Angel. No comparison would make sense. So she slid one hand underneath his sac and tenderly touched the hard little circles inside as the tip of her tongue came out to lick the base of his cock. She trailed her wet tongue slowly upward, going back to the base and inching upwards a little more each time. She had him panting already and loved knowing she was making him excited. He swelled up a little more when she took the mushroom-shaped head between her lips and suckled softly. Her tongue laved the underside of the head to brush the sensitive little nerves there and was rewarded with a bead of moisture seeping out of the tip.

"Harder, Willow, please," Angel begged, his eyes shut tightly. His fists clenched and unclenched. He wanted to grab her head but knew women hated that, so he held back and concentrated on the incredible heat she seemed to be drawing out of him with her skilled tongue. Willow obliged, sucking the tip of his penis a little harder and then taking as much of him as she could into her mouth. Angel yelped and thumped his fists on the rock as her head bobbed up and down, her tongue swirling around his massive length as her mouth provided all the friction necessary for him to lose control and do so blissfully, giving her the satisfaction of his first orgasm.

Willow swallowed his cold semen quickly, sucking hard until he was spent and almost weeping. He tenderly pulled her head away and his throat caught a sob before he let it out. He was prepared to thank her, to praise her, but the thanks was in her eyes first and that was new for him.

"I love that you let me love you," she explained simply. "If you're satisfied then it makes me feel good. Does that make perfect sense? 'Cause it should."

"Perfect sense," Angel echoed. "Now come up here so I can return the favor."

"Uh-uh," Willow protested. She pushed back into the pool and ducked under water, coming up spluttering water and giggling. "One, it wasn't a favor. And second, I want to play. Come swimming with me!"

Angel hesitated at the edge of the pool for a moment to enjoy the picture she made, wet and glistening in the moonlight, then slipped into the pool to take advantage of her invitation. After all, the night was still young.

~Part: 6~

"Sun's coming up soon," Willow said reluctantly.

The chorus of birds was a little louder, the movement of creepy things in the bushes a little more circumspect. And she was drained. After swimming like otters in the refreshing pool, they'd gotten into a deep and heavy exchange of life stories that was far from over. Angel cut lots of bits out of his, but it still took hours to share. Willow listened attentively as he shared his heart with her.

He couldn't always look her in the eye. Yet somehow she felt closer to him in the emotional sharing time than when they'd given and received pleasure earlier. Nothing held them back from being completely honest and there were no ringing phones, no interruptions, no time restrictions. They truly had all the time in the world and Angel was in no hurry to get off the island.

His soul desperately craved the intimacy with Willow.

Of course, he wished they hadn't been kidnapped and trapped in hellish conditions for three days to get them talking, but what was the phrase about a gift horse? Angel considered vacation "being in a beautiful place with no responsibilities." He didn't know he'd needed vacation. It was not in his nature to relax so lavishly. So maybe it was the "powers that be" doing whatever drastic thing they needed to do in order to prevent him from burning out. He didn't care, as long as Willow continued to relax with him. She was still concerned about getting off the island and refused to mention their ordeal in the hull of the boat.

That was a bad sign. Angel knew firsthand that repression = not good. But he knew Willow better than before and would watch her carefully, waiting for a good time to force the issue if she refused to bring it up. No way would he let her suffer in silence.

"Let's go," he said simply, and offered her his hand. She was already reaching for it and grinned when he let her swing their clasped hands together a little as they walked. Still paradise.

They reached the cave with time to spare and Willow immediately crawled into the wool blankets in the back of the cave. Angel got in beside her and took her in his arms. She was asleep in moments, burrowing her head into the soft place between his shoulder and neck. He kissed her chastely on the forehead and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Willow's rest was not so dreamless. She woke up from two nightmares on her own, each time moving a little closer to Angel's safe embrace. She looked around groggily, noticing the cave was lighter from the hot sunshine but no burning tendrils of light reached close to them. Somehow the light was comforting when she woke up to shake the icy shards of fear out of her head before closing her eyes again. The third time she was in a deeper sleep and didn't have the presence of mind to force herself out of the bad dream and started moving restlessly, letting out a little strangled sob from time to time.

Angel opened his eyes and shifted onto his side, blinking once in wakefulness. Willow seemed to tremble from fear, deep in a REM state nightmare. He shook her shoulder and called her name to wake her up. Her eyes snapped open and for a harsh moment he thought she was afraid of him from the wild, scared look she held captive with. But then her breathing slowed and she silently recognized it was him smoothing her hair back and rubbing comforting patterns on her back. She was too upset to smile.

"What did you dream about?" he asked, concerned. Willow turned away from him, still silent. Her mind was racing still in fear, trying to forget the horrors that chased her on the edges of her consciousness. She didn't know how to talk about it so she clamped her lips shut and refused to let his worry touch her heart.

"I'll be back," she replied stonily and stood up before he could stop her.

He couldn't follow her out into the sunlight-she knew that and did not turn around to see his hurt expression. She needed solitude, needed to be away from him and cry her eyes out.

She went down to the beach.

The beach was still deserted and she recognized their footprints in the sand from the day before. She had no idea what time it was but guessed late afternoon; if they'd fallen asleep at dawn and slept eight hours it would be at least two or three. Angel would have to wait three more hours in the cave before he could go hunt and she hoped that was enough time. She was already hungry and numbly ate two bananas and a hunk of the tasteless breadfruit that tasted like neither bread nor fruit. It sated her appetite but her soul was still troubled. She tried vainly to forget the dark images that tormented her in sleep and was almost free from them until she noticed one important thing missing from the tableau.

The boat was missing.

Angel heard Willow's sobbing and her frenzied footsteps before she saw her.

The fact that she might be in danger and he was powerless to stop it due to the sunshine was infuriating. He let out a huge breath of relief when she bolted into the cave and threw herself into his arms, crying her eyes out and clinging to him like a piece of seaweed.

"Shh, Willow," he soothed her, instinctively pulling her onto his pal and rocking her. She was unable to form words through her huge gasping sobs. After several minutes of her shaking hysteria Angel wondered if she'd been hurt. He didn't see any blood, but maybe she'd re-injured her ribs? He had to know. He was overwhelmed by her waves of fear and grief and hated seeing her in pain. Yet at the same time he knew that this emotional release was a long time in coming so he let her cry herself out.

"It hurts," Willow finally managed to gasp out in sorrow. Angel captured her puffy, tear-stained face in his hands and pressed the question.

"What hurts? Did you hurt your ribs again? Tell me."

"The whole-the whole thing. Spike, the boat, everything. I can't handle this, Angel, I can't."

"You are handling it, Willow. No, look at me. Shh, calm down. You are handling it."

"I'm scared," she whispered. "Really scared. The boat is gone, Angel."

"What?"

Willow tugged a blanket over her shoulders for warmth even though the temperature was sweltering outside and muggy to boot. She felt cold all over and trapped into fear that not even Angel could assuage.

"I went down to the beach, and ate, and the boat is gone. There's no sign of it anywhere, Angel. Do you think- do you think those men became vampires?"

"They didn't feed off me," he told her. "The boat probably floated back out to sea with the tide last night. It's probably a good thing, Will. Now someone will find the boat and come looking for us."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Angel hoped he was right. "Really scared you, huh?"

"Sort of the last straw," Willow muttered, sniffling.

"We've been through a lot," he assured her. His heart was singing that she'd finally released all the stress she'd been harboring since they landed on the island. Sure, she'd been through scarier situations before, but the hull of the boat was not pretty and there were a lot of unknown variables about the ocean to step up the pressure. He was determined to make the best of their situation since they had no immediate concerns. Knowing Giles like he did, Angel was sure there were plenty of rescue missions on the search and when the waters around southern California proved fruitless they'd no doubt put out a wider search. Technically, they could survive alone for about a year and not worry about food or shelter, barring and freak accidents or run-ins with rabid wildlife. His hunt the previous night afforded him a better understanding of their surroundings. They were utterly and completely the only human life on the island.

"Sorry I was a big weepy mess all over you," Willow apologized with a sheepish grin. A wave of tiredness covered her and she yawned. Angel pulled her down with him in the blankets and settled her against him securely.

"Do you want to talk some more?" he offered solicitously.

"Sleep," she murmured in a sweet voice, resting her hand on his chest. Angel chuckled and closed his eyes. Sleep, indeed. Maybe now, but certainly not later.

He had specific plans for later.

~Part: 7~

Willow was restless.

Angel had been gone for what seemed like hours and had taken one of the blankets with him, not letting her see what other supplies he'd taken. At first she thought he was being secretive because he needed the items to feed, and so afforded him a modicum of privacy. But now she began to get suspicious. He'd left when the last rays of sun dropped below the horizon but hadn't returned even though the moon was climbing steadily. When it first rose it was a mottled orange color and looked heavy in the sky over the water. It was a beautiful night and warmer than the last night, though Willow was still in the cave and there wasn't much of a breeze there. Not like out on the beach where the wind captivated the waves and the trees and sent the different tropical scents wafting through the air. No travel brochure could ever capture that on film.

"Ready?" Angel's voice came near her left shoulder and she jumped with a little yell. He took her into his arms and kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping in to claim possession.

"I didn't hear you," she complained, hitting him on the shoulder playfully when he broke the kiss. "And I want to go exploring to see if there's any kind of emergency station. Did you find the little bamboo hut I told you about? I think it's been here forever."

"Maybe not quite that long. But I did find something that would qualify as very good news."

"What's that?" Willow asked. Angel smiled and disappeared behind some low underbrush for a moment, then returned with a pile of white cloth.

"Found it at the hut all bunched up and shoved under a rock. It's a sail."

"Oh."

"I thought maybe you'd like to wear it like a dress or something. I cut enough material for myself for a loincloth, see?" He held his arms out to the side and spun around to model his crude sewing effort. "If you get tired of the skin look."

"I like the skin look," Willow grinned, reaching out to draw him close for another kiss. Angel obliged, letting this one last a little longer. His head was fuzzy when she stepped away and took the floaty material out of his hands.

"Well, it beats a fig leaf, I guess," she said thoughtfully, considering the sail. He looked so eager for her to like his discovery that he was almost hovering. She shook out the large piece of sail and swathed it around her body, bringing the tail end of it up over one shoulder so it stayed put.

"I have another surprise. Are you hungry?"

"A little. Why?"

"Come," he said, and took her hand.

They couldn't get to the beach fast enough for Angel so she broke into a run and incited him to catch her. He did, trapping her in his arms and kissing her again, his mouth finding hers like a magnet. Willow wound her arms around his neck and trailed wet kisses down his neck to hear the short moan of pleasure that escaped his lips. So much to learn about him, still, but she knew how sensitive his neck was. Typical, probably, for a vampire.

"You're good," he whispered in her ear. Truly, the girl could kiss. But he'd had enough of her getting the upper hand. Tonight was his turn to pleasure her beyond belief and he would pull out all the stops.

Starting with step one: dinner.

Willow put a hand on her hip and gave him a saucy look when she saw the happily blazing fire and some sort of fowl roasting on a very crude spit.

"Dinner, the sound of ocean waves, a new dress… if I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to seduce me, Angel."

"I'm not trying," he said matter-of-factly. "I AM seducing you. Now, come here and sit down on the blanket. Your table awaits."

"Oh, thank you, kind sir."

Willow was impressed. No wonder he'd taken forever to come back and get her at the cave! The meat he served her tasted like chicken, though she doubted it really was. It tasted better than breadfruit, that's for sure, so she hardly cared what kind of animal she ate. After dinner he cleared away the food and came back to the fire with a bottle in his hand and a gleam in his eye.

"What's that?"

"Kahlua. It was on the boat. Strange to have a liqueur without anything to mix it with. A bottle of tequila, maybe…but it's not bad, I tried it."

Angel lowered his voice and tried not to blush. He felt like a schoolboy with her sometimes and not the older, wiser one. Taking his own advice, Angel decided to just tell her what he wanted and see what happened.

"I want to pour this on you and lick it off very, very slowly."

"Oh." Willow felt her face grow hot and knew it wasn't the cheery blaze of the fire. Angel looked more predatory in the firelight than usual. She stood up in a rustle of sail and looked down at him as he sat patiently on the blanket. "I'll be right back."

Angel let her go presumably to relieve herself and took the same opportunity himself, heading off in the opposite direction. He arrived back before she did and settled down with his forearms resting on his knees.

Willow looked like a goddess as she approached the fire. She was walking slowly, deliberately, peeling the sail off as she walked. Angel grew hard without touching himself. The sight of her was incredibly arousing, especially when she raised her arms and the sail billowed out behind her before fluttering to the sand in a silken heap. She tossed her red hair back and gave him a confident smile. Nothing to hide.

When she got within arms reach Angel changed plan midstream according to his very demanding arousal. He wasn't going to will this one away and his body, after knowing from the previous night what Willow could do to him, do with him, was not wanting to wait.

Willow looked down at him, saw his condition and deliberately wet and then bit her bottom lip. She was panting, already so wet in anticipation there were little wet spots on her thighs from when she'd walked towards him. She didn't want him to be all sweet and romantic and lover-like with the whole kahlua thing, she wanted him to drag her down to the sand and have his way with her. No waiting, no prelude. The prelude was their conversation, their friendship, her tears and his comfort and the rest they'd shared and the food he'd painstakingly cooked for her.

"Willow," Angel breathed, delighting in the heady scent of her arousal. He'd done that to her. He'd made her all wet and glistening between her legs, made the ruddy curls dark with moisture. He wanted to bury his hard member as far as it would go into that heat until she cried his name.

"What- what about the kahlua?" she stuttered, thankful he could guess what she wanted.

"Fuck it," Angel said succinctly and roughly grabbed her hands, tugged her down and twisted her beneath him, her hair fanning out on the dark wool. Pinning her hands next to her head with his own, Angel enjoyed the way the firelight made her red hair shine with so many different colors and smiled as his mouth bent to take hers. With one knee he parted her thighs, eliciting a whimper and then entered her in one fluid motion, all the way to the hilt, unsympathetically stretching her tight walls with his tremendous erection.

Willow screamed. Linked her fingers with his. Arched her hips off the ground. Raised one knee to take him even deeper. He pounded into her fast and furious with all his strength and plundered her mouth with his tongue. They fought for dominance in the kiss this time. Willow tried to suck his tongue into her mouth which had been Angel's undoing the night before but he was wise to her tricks now and kept eluding her, sweeping in and around her mouth in the same powerful rhythm as his thrusts. With their hands locked tight to the ground Willow felt a little helpless and it was bringing her to the peak at an alarmingly fast rate.

"Angel, I'm coming…"

"Willow, I know."

Angel felt her walls start to spasm erratically and forced his cock into her as deep as it would go, spilling his seed inside her, cooling her inner fire. The pleasure was so mixed up with a sense of possession that he trembled with desire and released her hands so that she could embrace his broad shoulders and draw his head down to hers for a gentler kiss. She pressed her thighs to his hips in a vise-like grip and wouldn't let him pull out of her until her last quiver subsided. Then he drew out slowly and backed off a little, lowering his forehead to hers gently. They were both slick with perspiration and she was breathing heavily from the exertion.

"Wow," they said in unison, and then laughed a little. Angel brushed his lips against her swollen ones and shook his head.

"I wanted to go slow," he told her. "To take all night. To torture you like you did to me at the waterfall again and again."

"Well," Willow said thoughtfully. "It's not like we have to be rushing off anywhere. You might still have time to do all that."

"And then some?"

"Oh, yes, please."

~Part: 8~

"No. No way."

Willow looked in disgust at the square weather station and the radio equipment inside, hating herself for not discovering it earlier, hating herself for being glad she didn't discover it earlier. The little cubicle was only big enough for one person, a small desk and some low-tech equipment but it was obvious that someone visited the island monthly by the log sheet on the desk.

"I found it tonight when I was hunting... I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away," Angel apologized. What he left unsaid was right in his eyes if only Willow would look at him: "I didn't want to ruin dinner, I didn't want to leave here without loving you the way you deserve to be loved..."

"It's fine."

Willow had no words, really. They'd taken a walk on the beach, had a little midnight bath in the ocean, and were headed to the waterfall to rinse off the salt when Angel steered them off the path and up a hill to the weather station. She was angry that he'd revealed it to her and at the same time was elated. Now they could go home! And their friends could stop worrying. They had to make the call.

On the other hand, she wanted to keep the real world in denial a little longer. Selfishly she wanted more time on the island with Angel, making love to him on the beach, at the waterfall, on top of the low cliffs with the sound of crashing waves in her ears. No one to interrupt or chastise or question or...

She stepped away and tried to control her tears.

"I just want to be alone for awhile."

"Willow..."

"Just-" her voice sounded loud and she lowered it, composing herself. "Just leave me alone."

"I love you," Angel said in a tremulous voice. Willow's tears spilled down her cheeks at that vulnerable admission and she almost turned to call him back into her arms but her stubborn nature refused, so she just stood still and listened to his retreating footsteps. She knew she wasn't his lifetime love or his most passionate love, but she did not doubt his sincerity. He loved her as a close friend and as a lover. Their shared experience and the hours of talking were a solid basis for love.

And Willow loved him back, in her own way.

So she ran to catch up with him and cut him off on his way to the waterfall, barreling down the embankment to the river and throwing herself into his arms. His tears wet her face as he kissed her again and again, his hands roaming over her bare back as though he couldn't touch enough skin.

"I love you too," Willow said when he finally stopped kissing her. Her lips felt swollen and her body was humming from adrenaline like being at the top of the ferris wheel.

"I was mad because I know we have to get off this island and at the same time I want to stay. I'm not done with you yet," Willow added shyly.

"That's how I feel," Angel agreed.

"Three more days. Then we will have been here a work week, I think, the days all sort of get jumbled together like socks in a drawer, my socks, 'cause they're all different colors, and then we can call for help. Okay?"

"Um. Except for the socks, I get it. So, you're not mad at me?"

"No," Willow said honestly. "I'm mood swing girl this week anyway."

"Oh."

"Angel," Willow laughed, winding her arms around his neck. Anything else she was going to say was caught by his mouth descending to hers.

"Want to make love at the waterfall?" he asked softly.

Willow kissed him, answering affirmatively.

~Part: 9~

Willow felt a little emotionally drained after discovering the way off the island and her subsequent conflict with Angel and was glad when he just led her to the waterfall and sat next to her in the quiet night without touch or words. The air was no less smoldering than it was during the day; moist, sweltering heat buffeted them on all sides. It was a little cooler because of the dark, but it seemed as though the rocks and trees and incredibly colorful flowers just stored up heat during the daytime and expelled it during the night.

It was Willow's second full day of being nocturnal and having her daylight hours flipped upside down. What bothered her was the lack of color. With only the moon for light, the world was just shades of gray and black. She knew, scientifically, of course, that it had to do with the length of rods and cones in her eyes and that the presence of light would afford her the privilege of seeing the beauty of, for example, the fragile orchid that Angel held in his large hands. Its yielding petals felt like soft velvet and the scent grew stronger when Angel flicked the pollen off the pistil.

"After awhile you see more in the dark than in the light," he said, and handed the orchid to Willow. "Gray, black, they start to give way to blue and purple, green and red…" he broke off with a little laugh. "Sometimes you think things give off their own light. Like you. Light and grace. Red…" he smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear and then brushed one finger over her closed eyelid. "And greenish-blue that gets darker when you want me…" Willow opened her eyes immediately when his hand closed over her breast. "And here, purest cream and softer than this orchid."

Willow parted her lips and leaned into his hand, feeling a jolt of pleasure rush through her body. Angel smiled again and carefully set the flower aside. They both watched as he slowly stroked her breasts, cupping the small globes in his hands and tracing ever-tightening circles around her nipples until he finally touched the tips. The little pink buds swelled under his touch and Willow bit her lip to keep from moaning.

"Don't," he chided her quietly. "I want to hear you." Angel captured her gaze and was satisfied to see how dark her eyes looked.

"Touch me again," Willow suggested, trying to be playful, but her throat was dry and the words came out as a plea instead. Angel kissed his favorite spot at the base of her throat, tasting the faint salt left over form their earlier swim, and licked his way downwards. She moved to his lap, straddling him, and he splayed his hands over her back to hold her up for his mouth to devour.

Angel knew the danger inherent in having his tongue so close to any of Willow's pulse points, especially when her heart was beating so fast that he could practically smell the blood racing beneath the skin.

"Angel."

"I want you," he breathed shakily, and laved her right nipple with the flat of his tongue. Willow shifted her hips upwards and guided his hard shaft into her as she lowered herself down. This time they moaned together and Angel lowered Willow gingerly to her back without withdrawing from her. She was squeezing her kegel muscles so tightly he couldn't have slipped out if he wanted to anyway. The pressure felt so good, so intimate.

"Don't move," she ordered him when he started to thrust. "Sit up. No, don't take me with you, just sit up."

Angel brought his legs around and sat up, his cock still embedded deep in her gripping heat. In this position Willow was like a banquet before him. His eyes roved over her supine form and he was grateful that her heart and neck were not the closest things to him anymore. She knew how tempting it was for him and had made it easier without hurting his feelings or denying her pleasure.

Her pleasure.

Angel rested one hand over the damp curls at the apex of her thighs and let one finger quest its way into the moisture there. He found her clitoris immediately and dipped his finger lower, drawing up some of the moisture from where they were joined to surround the swollen nub that made her nipples tighten when he touched it. He smelled the heady scent of her and could feel her growing more slippery, but to find out how aroused she was getting Angel watched her face.

She didn't hide anything, couldn't hide anything.

Angel wanted to taste her but then he couldn't see the varied expressions that flickered across her moon-swept features like a dance. He stroked her reverently, changing the tempo and pressure just to drive her crazy, but also to learn how she liked to be touched. Every woman was different and Angel was learning that sometimes Willow liked to be brought up to full arousal slowly, not like turning on a light switch but like stoking a fire and tending it carefully, laying the wood and kindling and spreading the coals so that a flame grew and burned steadily. He mimicked that by bringing her just to the point of climax and then working her down slowly, all the while keeping his hard shaft buried in her core. When her breathing turned from little catches to full gasps Angel began to move his hips against her as well, pumping into her languidly even as his finger moved in rapid circles over her clit. He waited until she cried out in pleasure before letting the orgasm fully overtake her in shock waves that made her inner walls spasm erratically around his cock, drawing his own pleasure out of him in thick streams of fluid that bathed her hot, aching insides with its coolness.

He took her in his arms and she buried her face in his neck as she calmed down.

Angel wasn't calm.

~Part: 10~

Angel wanted to nuzzle Willow's throat and extend his fangs, tease her supple skin with the tips and then puncture the virgin flesh and open up flooding wounds to sate the appetite he couldn't stop craving. Because of their unique situation Angel hadn't held anything back. Not fair to be on a deserted island and hide your heart from your only other human contact. Willow agreed and spent the better part of the previous night listening to his life story, long and convoluted as it was. And now he wanted more, wanted to taste all of her. Making love with vampires usually incorporated blood. It had been a long time since Angel thought of himself as a vampire in that way, though. His time with Buffy was practically chaste in terms of how much of the demon he exposed her to and after the whole curse debacle there was no time to revisit anything sexual with her. It was far too difficult to restrain himself but he exercised self-control because he thought it would protect her.

With Willow, the feelings were the same but the logic seemed bizarre to him-because he wanted to protect her, he wanted to drink from her. To let her know how deep his feelings for her ran and how much he loved her. The thoughts disgusted him and at the same time he couldn't stop thinking about how sweet her blood would taste in his mouth. His soul was permanent, his demon somewhat controlled, somewhat embraced. Angel felt like Willow knew exactly what she was getting herself into and at the same time she was driving him crazy with the little nipping kisses on his neck and chest.

"Stop," he finally growled, and pushed her away. There was a flicker of hurt in her eyes and he felt like a bastard for not being able to assuage her fear. No, he meant it. No miscommunication there.

"Tell me why," Willow demanded, refusing to back down. She'd spare him the lecture if his distance was because of guilt. He knew that speech. He was also familiar with her feelings on the subject of them as lovers; had they not just shared an incredible experience that left them both trembling like leaves and clutching for some sort of purchase on the other?

"Because I want-" Angel bit down the phrase made so famous by that ninny Dracula that had unfairly stereotyped his entire race. He would not say "I want to suck your blood," but it was the simplest way to tell her the truth. He just hated the inherent tackiness of it.

Luckily he was in the presence of a very intelligent young woman carefully attuned to his thoughts and feelings. Thank the gods for Willow.

"You want me, here," she realized, and tilted her head, stroking the side, searching for the pulse. Middle of the throat, two fingers over…

Angel covered her fingers with his own and found the pulse point without even looking. Their eyes met and held, his dark gaze filled with lust not entirely accompanied by pure motives. Too complex to explain, too hard to figure out. He loved her as a friend, as a woman, wanted to protect her, wanted to treat her right, and also wanted his own satisfaction with her hot, thick life source filling him in a way that nothing else could. As he began massaging the side of her neck he felt his penis start to get hard in anticipation of his desire.

"How's your self-control?" Willow asked seriously. Unspoken words wanting to know if he could drink without killing her, which was hardly the point.

"I'm not hungry," he told her honestly. "I don't need to feed. I just want to taste you, in my mouth, completely, your life and essence and all that you are is in you when I drink and I want…"

He trailed off, changing his features for the first time since they'd been together. Willow didn't bat an eyelash. In fact, she smiled.

"So drink."

For a split second Angel thought about playing devil's advocate and telling her that she was too keyed up to be making decisions like that. Arrogant thoughts that she would have lambasted him for in a heartbeat. The woman in his arms was not a lovesick ingenue but a fiery, independent woman in complete use of her mental faculties. She didn't want to be a vampire, she didn't want to die. Could it be possible that she fully understood? Angel barely dared to hope until she spoke with carefully thought out words.

"Your pleasure is intricately linked to mine, you know. Your satisfaction is more important to me than my own, because I want to give everything to you, and I know… I know you feel the same way because of the care you take with me. And if this is part of what you need to feel complete then I want it for you as much as you want it yourself… love isn't done in halves, Angel."

His feral yellow eyes flashed a last warning at her but she just put her hand on the back of his neck and guided his fangs to her throat.

Angel was in control. Odd feeling, appeasing the bloodlust but not wanting to kill her. His sharp canines pierced her skin and slid in easily, just under her jugular vein. No sense in damaging the actual vein with no medical help for miles. Her vital fluid flowed warm and luscious as he knew it would, filling that void deep within him.

Willow didn't have the slayer's special healing powers and he would not take advantage of that. She let out a small cry of discomfort when he pulled in earnest- couldn't help it- and forced herself to relax as he suckled at her neck. She ignored the semi-maternal sense that welled up in her breast. Way too much to handle this time.

Angel easily broke contact when he was sated. He hadn't taken more than a few ounces, certainly not enough to damage her. His body was singing in rapture and he was more than a little proud at his control. He morphed back into his human face to find Willow staring up at him lovingly.

"Willow, are you okay? Dizzy, lightheaded?"

"Yes, but I've been that way since you wrapped the sail around me."

"Thank you," Angel whispered, holding his fingers against her neck to stem the sluggish flow of blood there.

"Couldn't have waited like three days until I get my period," Willow scoffed. "Men."

"You're amazing, you know that, right?"

"I know," she said happily. "Doesn't it make you just want to kiss me and hold me and do naughty things to me?"

Angel licked his fingers and stretched out on his side, propping his head up with his hand and using the other to trace circular patterns on her. Naughty things indeed. Only Willow could make that sound simultaneously inculpable and seductive.

"Have any ideas?" he suggested with a gleam in his eye. She brazenly took the hand and guided it between her legs.

"You're the demon," she teased, "you come up with something."

"All right," Angel acquiesced, and without warning inserted his index finger into her vagina, which was still wet from their previous time together. He curled the finger upwards to find that elusive spot of flesh fashion magazines devoted whole articles to and knew he'd found it when Willow's ab muscles tightened and she looked at him suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" she wanted to know. The pad of his finger was rubbing…something… inside her that was uncharacteristically sensitive. The look on his face was priceless as he gleefully discovered no one had ever touched her like this. Willow let that little prideful moment pass because the feelings he was evoking in her were new, felt incredibly good, but slow.

"Just relax, everything, relax," Angel instructed her, dropping a soft kiss on her lips. He quickened the pace til she squirmed beneath him and tried to thrust against his finger, then slowed down until Willow took the hint and stilled her body. "Close your eyes, spread your legs a little wider-yeah, good."

"What are you doing to me?" Willow asked rhetorically. She held onto two little grips in the rock and had to remind herself to breathe.

"I'm making you come," Angel answered wickedly, and coaxed the pleasure out of her like a true maestro. Willow yelled as she exploded in an orgasm that pushed forcefully out of her, bathed Angel's hand with way more juices than usual and made her feel very tired all of a sudden. She could barely move. Angel chuckled and moved between her legs to lap up all the wetness. No sense wasting any of that precious taste, either. Willow was too surprised by the experience to notice how loving he was until a few minutes later, when she realized he'd been done cleaning her for a while and was now just learning her most private place with his tongue.

She peeked down and saw his erection straining against his stomach and decided to take pity on the poor vampire whose self-control definitely needed a reward.

"Angel, I want you inside me, now."

The request was almost instantly complied with and Angel shuddered when he was fully sheathed inside her. He came almost instantly, spurting inside her uncontrollably like an untried teenage boy, which would have been embarrassing if Willow hadn't purposely driven him to it by swiping her fingers in the trickle of blood that was not dry on her neck and offering the reddened fingers to his lips when he bent to kiss her.

"God, Willow, don't do that," he cautioned her. "I -"

"Your pleasure is mine, remember?"

Angel smiled tenderly down at her flushed face. How could he forget?

~Part: 11~

Willow washed her hair for the second time. It was unbelievably greasy. Funny how on the island she hardly noticed, and as soon as the little plane landed at the airport all she could think about was getting a hot shower. Unfortunately for her, the police had other ideas and she spent a long three hours giving testimony of their "kidnapping" at the hands of the three dead men while Angel waited out the sunlight in a windowless room. Over and over she told them the story she and Angel had decided on: they were walking at night, they got mugged and stupidly tried to fight, they ended up on a boat to who knows where. Luckily they survived by their wits and the mercies of the Cal Tech Jungle Exchange Program.

After the interrogation they offered her a telephone to call her family but she refused, having already called Giles from the airport. He knew they were back safe and insisted that she stay at Angel's for the rest of the week to "regroup." She wondered about that reasoning when he first suggested it but now was incredibly glad there was a few days reprieve before the world came crashing in with all its burdens. Sunset had fallen, Angel was restless, and the beat reporter looked suspicious enough to avoid. So they'd slipped out easily, just two tourists in khakis and t-shirts. Angel's t-shirt had a little embroidered Mickey Mouse on the pocket, which was just too hysterical to mock him with, but it was all their rescuer could provide.

"Willow, you okay?" Angel's muffled voice sounded concerned. Willow pretended she didn't hear him and finished rinsing her hair. "Can I come in?"

She turned off the water and stood in the steam, dripping for a second before she answered.

"I'm not done yet. Go away."

"You've been in the shower for half an hour." This fact was presented in a logical manner.

She ignored him and turned the shower on again, unwilling to relinquish the abundant hot water. Plus, thanks to Cordelia sometimes using the shower after a gruesome demon kill, there was a neat shower caddy full of different soaps and lotions and scrubbies. It was the single feminine item in Angel's entire apartment and she held onto it like a lifeline. Her world wasn't making sense anymore and it was all she could do to shave, much less talk to Angel about her silly re-entry fears.

"Willow." This time Angel's voice was close, right outside the curtain. She yelped and turned off the water, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sorry. But you're scaring me. Are you all right? Do you need more, um, Ibuprofen?"

Ah, so that's what he was worried about. Seeing her doubled over in pain from cramps and nearly passing out in his little elevator-how neat was that, right in the apartment?!--- had turned his pale face ashen and sent him running out for more supplies than any girl could possibly use. She'd sent him back out for Motrin and then helped herself to a prescription dosage. Then they both ate dinner, debriefed the trip home a little, and reviewed the events of the Island, deciding which would be common knowledge and which would remain a secret between them.

"I'm fine. I'm just- can you just give me a few minutes alone?"

"I'll be waiting outside."

Willow waited until she heard the door shut before emerging from the tub and toweling dry. Stacked neatly on a chair was a pile of clothes she didn't recognize, but she got dressed anyway and smiled at the way the skirt of the dress swooshed around. She would have given money to see Angel in the drugstore, but being a fly on the wall while he shopped for her was another matter entirely. How did he know she loved bright colors and comfortable fabric? And the tights, and the shoes, and even the bra fit perfectly. She was blushing and not from the steam.

Following the sound of clinking glasses and the whistling tea kettle, Willow found Angel puttering around in the kitchen. His hair was now dry and he was dressed in a pair of black pants and a matching sweater. He looked a lot more intimidating with clothes on than he did naked.

"Thank you," she said humbly, gratefully accepting the mug of tea he pressed into her hands. Angel led her over to the low brown couch with its maroon and gold cushions and made her relax. She laid her head back and closed her eyes, cradling the mug in her hands.

"I like the clothes," she murmured as Angel sat next to her and began to softly rub her abdomen. How did he know how to do that? His gentle love of her made her want to weep sometimes.

"I- had fun." Angel bit his tongue. He was about to blurt out "I wish I could do that more often" but didn't know how she'd take it. She belonged in Sunnydale, not in his world. He could barely hang on to Doyle and Cordelia, much less protect someone he'd given a portion of his heart to. And Buffy… hell, he didn't want to linger there.

"Mmm," Willow said, arching her back.

"I hate seeing you in pain," Angel admitted. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Just don't leave me," Willow said aloud. Angel's hand stilled for a split second and then started again. Guiltily, he avoided her gaze. He thought she meant "forever," and was crushed to realize she was only talking about the moment. And my, that was telling of his own emotions, wasn't it?

"I won't. I promise."

And he didn't. He remained by her side until she fell asleep, ignoring two phone calls and Doyle, who came downstairs with a potentially urgent matter. Angel got rid of him, telling the Irish half-demon that for all intents and purposes, the boss was still on vacation.

Willow stirred awake when Angel lifted her in his arms and carried her to his four-poster bed.

"Love you," she murmured sleepily. He tugged her clothes off and dressed her in one of his long-sleeved t-shirts; black, of course. Then he tucked her in and stripped off his own clothes, climbing into bed beside her and taking her into his arms. The down comforter was cozy warm and the sheets crisp and fresh. Willow immediately burrowed her head into a comfortable place and sighed deeply in sleep, her hair soft and smelling like apples. Angel closed his eyes and kissed her brow, amazed and grateful for his time with her, their friendship, their shared love, however it would be defined.

Sleep was a long time in coming.

END.

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