Friendship

Note: Text enclosed in < > represents thoughts or feelings. 

Willow watched Buffy and Xander on the dance floor, dancing together. A lump was forming in her throat and a huge hand suddenly griped her heart, hard. Willow stood suddenly and fled, before anyone she knew could see her tears. 

Outside the Bronze, a slight drizzle was falling. <The sky is crying too.> Willow turned and blindly headed for home. She was crying too hard to see but her feet knew where to go. 

Bright headlights, screeching tires, the blast of a horn. Fear, panic held her still, even against the unconscious knowledge, <I'm going to die.> 

Strong hands gripped her waist, lifting her easily from the car's path. The car roared by, the driver screaming a filthy obscenity at her. 

Strong hands set her down, safely on the sidewalk. Willow was still clutching his arms in shock. 

"Are you all right?" <Angel.> Willow gulped in air frantically, feeling dizzy. She didn't answer him, but continued to cling to him for dear life. 

"Willow?" He lowered his head level with her own. Dark eyes peered into her soul. 

<It's just an optical illusion. Eyes don't really see into the soul.> Angel smiled suddenly, his eyes crinkling with humor. <Oh, God, she had spoken outloud.> 

"I'm fine. Thank-you. Very much. You saved my life." Willow shut her mouth. She sounded stiff and formal. She didn't mean to but it came out that way. 

She began shivering, becoming aware that she was drenched and not wearing a jacket. And she was still clutching at his arms. 

Willow let go and stepped back. Angel let her go, easily. Then he slid his jacket off his shoulders--identical to the one Buffy wore--and settled it over her shoulders. Willow protested meekly and he ignored her. 

"Are all of your clothes the same?" <Oh, God, I can't believe that I asked him that.> Willow cringed with embarrassment. 

"It makes shopping easier." Angel gave her his cryptic man smile, the one Buffy hated. <If he's hiding any pain over Buffy and Xander, he's certainly doing a good job.> 

<Buffy and Xander.> 

"I need to get home," Willow started to edge past him. 

"Let me escort you," Angel offered. 

Willow stared at him doubtfully. 

"Please," he smiled, warm and charming. Willow felt her doubts melting away. 

"I promise not to bite," he continued to smile but stepped out of her path, letting her choose. 

<He has the strangest sense of humor.> "Well,...ok." Willow smiled at him tentatively. "But only if you promise." 

Angel and Willow walked for two blocks in silence. Willow tormented herself with the memory of Buffy pressing her body intimately against Xander. 

Angel's warm hand pressed firmly against her back. Willow nearly jumped out of her skin. Her eyes flew to his. 

"Easy," his smile reassuring but his eyes serious. "We're being followed. Don't look." 

"Who?" she asked. <He hadn't removed his hand.> 

"I'm not sure," Angel continued to direct her path, swifter now than before. 

"If we hurry we can reach my house and go inside," Willow's eyes widened with realization. "If we go inside then they know where I live. That's bad." 

The decision was suddenly ripped away from them. A dark BMW gunned it's engine and sped past them. The driver overran the curb and skidded to a halt on the sidewalk in front of Angel and Willow. Three of the best dressed vampires Willow had ever seen piled out of the vehicle. <Other than Angel, of course.> 

The vampires, two men, one woman, actually paused to straighten their clothes. <I guess they want to look good while they kill us.> 

"Oh my, they're..." Willow stared in horror. "It can't be!" 

"Oh, but it is!" Angel deadpanned, equal horror creeping into his voice. 

Angel and Willow exchanged a private glance. 

"Yuppies!" they chorused in unison. 

"Oh, this is too awful," Willow moaned. The vampires finished preening and began approaching. Willow became serious, "What are we going to do?" 

Angel looked at the vampires, assessing, then back at Willow. He hesitated momentarily. Willow knew that if Buffy were present, instead of her, Angel would have attacked. 

Angel grabbed her hand, "Run." 

Angel and Willow ran. Actually, Angel dragged Willow with inhuman speed and she did her best to keep up. He dragged her through twists and turns, through the darkest and most desolate parts of Sunnydale, until her lungs burned fire. 

They reached an alleyway and Angel finally stopped. Willow couldn't tell if the yuppie-pires still followed. As soon as Angel let go of her hand she doubled over, gasping for air. 

"Hold on, we're almost there," Angel dragged a manhole cover aside. 

"I can't make it any further," Willow gasped. "You go on and I'll hold them off here." 

A snarl erupted from the other end of the alleyway. Angel and Willow turned to see the three vampires advancing. They were disheveled now from the chase and boy, did they look mad. 

Angel pressed a small flashlight into Willow's hand. <Where did he get that?> 

"Down," he commanded flatly. His face changed. Willow gulped and flew down the ladder. Her feet landed in something wet and it stank down here. <Oh, Gross.> 

Someone landed with a splash, beside her. 

"Angel?" Willow didn't receive an answer. The someone seized her hand and began dragging her through sewer. <That's reassuring. At least he drags like Angel does.> 

Splashing behind them. Apparently the yuppies were enraged enough to over come any reservations they might have about getting dirty. 

An arm wrapped around Willow's waist and she felt herself being carried. His strength hurt. "Owe. If you'd like a club, I'm sure it'd be easier to drag me by my hair." 

"Hush," Angel set her down, this time on dry stone. His touch gentled, a finger touched her lips. "If they're as young as they look then they won't know about this place." 

<What about this place?> More noises from their followers echoed. Willow heard an odd sound, <almost a swish>, and a scream. 

Willow switched on her flashlight. She had forgotten that she was holding it. 

A skull grinned in her beam. Willow screamed and dropped the flashlight. 

It rolled several feet and came to a halt at Angel's feet. He reached down to pick it up and she saw that his face was still...<distorted.> 

They were standing in a torture chamber. 

"They'll be here soon," Angel turned and strode swiftly to the other end of the chamber. 

The room was large, perhaps several hundred feet long and fifty feet wide. It was crowded with a variety of torture devices, including an iron maiden and a rack. Five iron barred cells line the right wall and another dark passage at the far end. 

"This is so gothic," Willow followed him, keeping her flashlight pinned to his back, careful not to look too closely at anything. 

"I keep a weapon stash here," Angel stopped and grabbed a quarter staff leaning against the wall. <Giles is going to have his day.> Angel picked up a stake and noticed the look on her face. "What?" 

"Oh,.*nothing*," Willow cleared her expression, projecting wide-eyed innocence. Angel's expression was priceless. <Strange girl.> 

"Here," Angel offered her the stake, "Just in case..." Willow accepted it. "That passage dead ends at another ladder. You'll come up behind The Bronze." 

Willow nodded, mutely. 

Angel grabbed a wooden lever on the wall. "I've disabled the traps." He spun and moved to the center of the room. 

Two vampires, one of the men and the woman, rushed into the torture chamber. Angel snarled and swung the staff into a fighting stance. 

<I should run.> Willow's feet remained rooted to the ground in disagreement. <But Angel might need my help.> 

"Brother, why do you fight your own kind?" the man asked. For the first time they noticed Angel's face in the dim light cast by Willow's flashlight. <They're trying to distract him.> The vampires separated, the man going right and the woman left. 

<I should run.> Willow told her feet again. They were still not cooperating. 

"You're not my kind!" Angel denied. He turned slightly, keeping the man in front of him. 

The woman, a brunette skirted past, flanking Angel. Willow saw her pull a wooden stake out of her purse. <Oh, Angel, be careful.> 

"Oh, but we are," his laugh echoed through the huge stone room. "It's as plain as the nose on your face." The brunette was behind Angel now. Her signal ended the man's taunting. 

The man and woman charged. "Angel, behind you!" Willow heard herself scream. Angel leveled the quarter staff like a spear and met the man's charge head-on. He practically staked himself. <You'd think they'd learn, eventually.> 

A cloud of dust exploded in Angel's face. He twisted deftly, <like a cat> and wound up with the brunette's stake buried deep in his side, instead of his heart. 

Guilt twisted Willow's heart. <If he hadn't given me his jacket, it never would have penetrated.> 

Enraged, Angel dropped the quarter staff and grabbed the woman. Angel viciously heaved the woman into a stone wall and ripped the stake from his side. 

He growled in pain and threw the offending stake across the room. It bounced and skidded, clattering, across the stone floor. 

The other vampire recovered fast. She pushed away from the wall and rounded on Angel. 

Angel hit the woman full in the face, hard. Willow heard her nose crunch and felt her own stomach start to swim. The brunette collapsed at Angel's feet. He reached down and picked her up by her hair. But he didn't finish her. 

<What is he doing?> Willow watched, fascinated, while Angel slowly twisted the woman's body around so that she faced away from him and then jerked her head to the side, exposing her throat. 

Angel's soft snarl sounded...<content>... He hovered over her neck for a moment...<like a lover>...and finally sank his fangs into her throat. 

The woman jerked to life suddenly, howling with outrage, clawing at Angel's body. Willow could see the life, the fluids, being sucked from her body. 

First, face and limbs wilted, collapsing inwards. Her skin became like parchment, crinkling, flaking, peeling, and finally dissolving into a fine powder. Her claw grasped at Angel and the brittle bones of her skeletal fingers snapped. 

Finally, she ceased struggling. Angel dropped the wilted husk. It hit the floor and collapsed into a pile of dust. He looked up. 

<Angel's a cannibal.> 

<Run>...panic speared Willow in the gut. 

<Run>...still her feet didn't move. 

She was frozen with fear. 

Angel kept his distance. His face changed and he became handsome again. 

Willow and Angel stared at each other forever. Neither spoke, moved, just stood, sharing Angel's secret. 

"I'm sorry you saw that," Angel's words were so soft Willow barely heard him. 

"Buffy said you never kill," Willow's voice trembled, "anymore." 

"I don't. Mortals." Angel's eyes pleaded with hers. <Please don't hate me.> "I haven't taken a mortal life since the gypsies restored my soul." 

"But you do kill? Vampires?" Willow felt close to collapsing. The flight, the fight, the emotional strain, Buffy and Xander were taking their toll. 

"Yes. When I need to, when I have to," Angel explained. "Their blood keeps me strong enough to fight them." 

He paused for a long moment. If Angel breathed he would have taken a deep breath. Then he plunged on. "There's more. When I fight them, when I turn the demon against them, it's easier to stay in control afterwards." 

"Willow?" Angel paused, his eyes searching hers for something. <Does he want forgiveness or understanding? And why does he care what I think?> 

Willow swayed on her feet. Her eyes closed for the briefest moment and then Angel was there holding her steady. 

"I'm taking you home," Angel swung her into his arms. Willow's softly murmured protest was ignored. He carried her like she weighed nothing. <To him I guess I don't.> 

Angel carried her home. He didn't set her down once, even going so far as to exit the sewers through a storm drain. Willow curled against his chest like a kitten. She felt safe and warm. This wasn't right but Willow was too tired to care. 

Finally, Angel set her down on her front porch. He silently waited while Willow fished for her key and opened the front door. 

Angel turned and walked away. <No good-bye. I'm never going to see him again.> Willow knew with certainty. 

"Angel?" Willow couldn't let him leave. <Not like this.> Angel stopped. "It's ok. Destroying one of them is always ok. And you're one of us, not one of them." 

Angel turned back. He looked so grateful Willow almost started crying. "Thank-you," his voice was hoarse. 

They hung onto the silence again and watched each other. The emotions between them too intense, too embarrassing for words. When Angel spoke again his voice and expression were clear, "Willow?" 

"Hmmm?" a yawn stretched out her reply. 

"Please don't tell anyone about this," Angel asked. 

"About what?" Willow stared at him blankly. 

"Thanks," he gave her *the smile* and Willow felt her knees melt. She stepped inside and closed the front door. Some things are better left alone. 

Willow went to bed.