Friendship

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

Willow strolled into the dining room, accompanied by Sean.  Once again, she paused in order to survey and fully appreciate another room of his home.  An immense dining room set made of hand-carved redwood dominated the entire room; each side of the table seated eight.  The table was set with fine bone china, Waterford crystal, and spotless antique silver.  Willow shook her head slightly with wonder.  <Does this man own *anything* that is not an antique or priceless?> 

The room flickered and glowed warmly in the soft light cast by candles, not electricity.  Willow looked up and sucked in her breath in astonishment.  The chandelier held dozens, if not a hundred, small white candles.  "That thing must be a fire hazard," she observed dryly. 

Sean chuckled.  "It is," he agreed, with equal dryness.  "I only have it lit when we're having company... and you can be assured that I will be hearing about this from the kitchen staff for weeks." 

"How often do you have *company*?"  She gave him a pointed look, letting him know that she DID NOT count herself among his guests.  She turned and noticed the mirrors.  Large mirrors covered the length and breath of each wall.  <Boy, does he have a thing for mirrors or what...?!  I wonder if this is a vanity thing...?> 

"Not very often,"  Sean replied.  "I'm really something of a recluse."  He began to say something else and noticed the speculative ~look~ on Willow's face as she glanced between him and the mirrors.  Sean chuckled and walked over to a mirror.  "Observe."  Then before Willow's astonished eyes, he walked INTO the mirror. 

<What?!  Where?!>  Willow rushed over to the mirror.  She couldn't see Sean reflected in the mirror, only herself.  Her fingers connected with mirror's solid surface and she left dozens of messy fingerprints all over its polished surface before she noticed Sean standing directly behind her.  <?!> 

Willow shrieked and whirled on him.  "DON'T DO THAT!!"  She shouted into his face.  Sean's hands gently caught her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly before Willow's common sense kicked in.  She backed away from him and collided with the messy mirror.  Fortunately, he did not make an issue about letting her go. 

"Willow, it's ok."  Sean made a calming motion with his hands, palms down.  "I apologize.  I didn't mean to frighten you... I was merely showing off."  He offered her a charming smile, moving closer to the table's head.  After a moment, Willow followed.  <Ok, I'll bite...!!> 

"How did you do that?" she asked.  Willow unconsciously responded to his incredibly sexy smile. 

"Magick."  He offered the word like tantalizing fruit, using her own curiosity against her in order to draw her out.  Sean pulled out the chair closest to the head of the table suggestively.  "If you'll sit, I'd be happy to explain..." 

"Well... ok."  Willow scampered across the room and sat down in the proffered chair.  She squeezed successfully past Sean without initiating any bodily contact.  Willow watched him seat himself at the head of the table, attentively admiring his graceful, flowing movements. 

"Kindred prefer to dwell unnoticed among humans."  Sean explained, absently picking up his empty wine glass.  "We've developed certain rituals which facilitate this objective, including those that restore breath and heartbeat." 

"And reflections?"  Willow inquired, watching with rapt fascination as his fingers stroked the stem of his wine glass. 

"And reflections," he agreed, smiling affably.  "I myself developed the 'mirror walk' ritual while I was researching reflections."  Sean's chest puffed proudly, drawing Willow's straying eyes away from the wine glass. 

Abruptly, she realized the path her wayward thoughts once again traveled and blushed.  <Grrr... Need to find something else to look at!>  Willow turned to survey the table.  <I wonder why they set out every single place setting for just two people?> 

"Are you expecting company?"  She asked absently as her eyes journeyed up and down the room.  Subconsciously, she worried her lip and indulged in guilty thoughts.  <While I'm sitting here in the lap of luxury, there's no telling what might be happening to my friends.    I can see Buffy disappearing for a little while. But Giles, Xander, AND Buffy?!  I should have told Angel to go look for them and not to worry about me.> 

Sean answered her question and she never heard his reply.  He let her mind wander for a while before he tried to regain her attention.  "Willow?"  He asked as a sturdy old woman placed a covered tray upon the table. 

"Huh?"  Willow turned to stare at him blankly, dragging her thoughts away from her friends.  "Yes?" She was faintly astonished to discover a salad sitting in front of her.  <How did that get there...?!>  She glanced at Sean suspiciously, suspecting more slight of hand. 

The quiet, sturdy servant offered Sean a bottle of wine, which he accepted.  "Thank you, Shelly."  Shelly bobbed her head silently and left the room slowly.  Willow watched her shuffle away, feeling sorry for her too.  <It must be horrible being forced to serve a vampire...> 

"You were saying?"  Willow hinted mildly.  She kept her tone pleasant despite her secretly hostile thoughts.  <There's no point in antagonizing him any further, especially since he's started talking... Which IS what Angel told me to get him doing!> 

Sean opened the wine.  "Ironically, Angel disappeared shortly before Kindred made several of our greatest magical achievements to date.  In the last century, we've made several significant discoveries regarding new ways of blending in." He gestured at a mirror by way of demonstration; his reflection gestured back.  Willow watched, not missing the implications.  <Angel missed out on a lot, apparently, by exiling himself from his clan.> 

"Don't the dead bodies kind of give you away?"  Willow winced as another pop-fly question whizzed past her lips.  She couldn't help feeling antagonistic towards him; it helped her keep his demonic nature clearly in view.  <I've decided that I like Morlocks better than Kindred.  They're much less confusing since they just attack and get down to business.  No friendly bantering or polite conversation to deal with.> 

Sean poured himself a glass of a light pink wine and thoughtfully considered her question.  He made as if to pour her a glass.  "I don't drink!"  Willow protested as the very tip of the bottle's neck touched her glass. 

Sean blinked, looking mildly surprised before recovering.  "Of course not."  He took the wine bottle away.  "My apologies.  In my time, a woman of your years was considered old enough to drink." 

Like a indignant bird, Willow felt her feathers go POOF.  She instantly resented his implication, his subtle insinuation.  "Well, maybe, just one glass..."  <AS IF!  As if I'm a girl instead of a woman because the YEAR is different!> 

Sean lifted a quizzical eyebrow, but complied with her wishes and filled her glass.  Willow stared with hypnotized fascination at the pale pink fluid.  <Drat!  That was clever of him...! But one glass won't hurt anything and I'll just pretend that I'm feeling tipsy to see what he's up to...> 

"Needless to say that needing to kill humans in order to live presents a major handicap to achieving this end."  Willow's stomach clenched with queasiness at the casual manner in which he referred to feeding.  It was the first clear indication she'd seen of a vampire lurking under his charming facade.  <As if people are cattle.  That's.> 

"That's disgusting."  Willow stated flatly, glaring at him.  "You sound just like a typical demon, talking as if life doesn't matter." 

"Life does matter,"  Sean corrected her mildly.  He picked up his fork and took a bite of his salad.  "But living without killing is difficult for us.  Almost impossible." 

Willow watched him eat, feeling fairly astonished despite his earlier talk of  "rituals" and "blending in".   <I thought that his meal was for show...!!   To be polite!>  A moment later, his words sank in and she glared at him with renewed hatred.  "You're a monster!" 

Sean stopped eating and set down his fork.  "Really?"  His carefully modulated tone expressed casual interest, stating quite clearly that he didn't care if he was a monster or not.  His eyes, however, flashed in response to her accusation, saying he did care.  "Tell me, is Angel still feeding on vampires?"  He demanded, returning a small degree of her hostility with pointed sarcasm. 

His knowledge of Angel's secret momentarily phased her.  "Yes,"  Willow mumbled.  "But that's different."  Willow felt her venomous glare falter under his knowing eyes.  <It IS different!  I wonder what else he knows.?> 

"If you say so,"  Sean obviously didn't agree.  He stared at her for a moment, looking ready to continue the argument.  Then, suddenly, his eyes softened with an odd blend of compassion and understanding.  "I think I see now how Angel won you over. It's the killing, isn't it?" 

Willow didn't respond; she'd already made her position on this quite clear.  Sean sighed and picked up his fork. 

"Try your salad."  He suggested, pointedly taking a bite.  "It's delicious and Shelly gets her feelings easily hurt."  The thought of hurting the poor old woman's feelings induced Willow to pick up her fork and tentatively nibble a bite.  <He's right!  It is delicious!>  Willow dug in, realizing with some astonishment that she was starving.  <Of course, it's only been a day or so since I've eaten a proper meal...> 

She felt another burst of annoyance with him and herself that she'd obeyed him, that she'd agreed with him about the salad, that she'd enjoyed something that he provided.  <He has no right to pretend that he cares about Shelly's feelings!  Or that he cares about anything other than murder and carnage!  Or that he's anything but a vicious beast!!!> 

"Why should it matter?"  Willow demanded belligerently.  She winced; even to her own ears she sounded incredibly rude.  <I'm letting my emotions get out of control and handing him the advantage...> 

Sean looked at her oddly, trying to discern her meaning.  "Why should_what_matter?  Shelly's feelings?" He asked delicately and politely, reminding Willow of her manners.  Thoroughly shamed, she dropped her eyes and poked an innocent piece of lettuce with the sharp prongs of her fork. 

"I'm sorry."  Willow mumbled the apology; it stuck in her craw to be apologizing to a VAMPIRE.  "That was rude." 

"You're forgiven."  Sean let the awkward moment pass easily.  He sighed.  "Look, Willow... you're to be my brother's wife and my sister."  In bewilderment, Willow jerked her head up and found herself staring straight into Sean's expectant gaze.  He wordlessly absorbed her reaction as if it coincided exactly with his suspicions.  Willow winced again.  <DAMN!!  He set me up!> 

"I know that you resent my intrusion into your life and your abduction and I sincerely apologize." Sean sounded sincere.  He managed to meet her eyes with honesty and integrity.  "Roger, the one who accosted you, was acting without my permission or knowledge.  I assure you that he's been destroyed." 

To Willow, Sean's words rang true.  The information she'd gleaned from Mike's mind indicated that Sean really had not been involved in the initial attempts to kidnap her.  From Mike's mind, she'd also seen his memories of a furious Sean staking Roger.  <And I also I learned that Mike believes that Sean wants me for something much more sinister than what he's letting on to...> 

"Why am I here then?"  Willow demanded.  <If he is really sincere then why did he bring me here...?  There must have been some way that he could have contacted Angel without using me as a pawn...> 

"This is not an acceptable excuse, but I've been trying to use conventional methods to find Angel for almost eighty years."  Sean turned beautifully expressive brown eyes and his charm-you-out-of-your-shirt smile on her.  Willow's feminine side melted in response while she clung stubbornly to reason.  "I saw a chance and grabbed it... you, that is."  Sean shrugged sheepishly. 

"So, I'm only here so that you can trap Angel and you should be forgiven for this because you're being polite to me?"  Wry sarcasm crept into her voice.  <I've got to watch that.  I've been spending too much time around Angel lately.  It's starting to show through...> 

"It's not a trap!" Sean protested.  "I NEED to... talk with him."  Some deeply buried stress surfaced briefly in his eyes, betraying a carefully hidden urgency upon his part. 

Willow cocked her head, intrigued.  She sensed vulnerability here...  <How best to exploit it?>  She absently took a sip of wine.  And frowned.  "Yuck!"  Willow scowled down at the wine.  <I can't believe that adults drink this stuff!> 

Sean chuckled; a deep, sexy, feel-it-in-your-abs kind of laugh.  "It gets better with food,"  he assured her with amusement. Willow took another explorative sip and found the wine somewhat more palatable this time.  <But I'm certainly not going to give up Coke for this!> 

"So, you don't have any problems with him at all?"  Willow asked, wry sarcasm still firmly in place.  She finished her salad and picked up her wine glass again.  <Maybe I should make a show of forgiving him...>  "This is just a little impromptu family reunion, right?" 

"All brothers have their differences."  Sean conceded, leaning over to lift the lid off the platter.  "I'd be lying if I said that we haven't had our share.  But we settled those a long time ago." 

"Lobster!!!"  Despite herself, Willow squealed with delight as he transferred one of the crustaceans onto her plate.  Her feet bounced up and down, pounding out a rapid, joyful rhythm.  Sean's smile widened and he served himself. 

"Apology accepted!"  Willow snatched up her fork.  <Ooops!  That was too fast!> 

Sean laughed with something damn close to delight but with more reserve than Willow managed.  "If I'd known that lobster would receive *this* response, I'd have ordered a truckload." 

"Just one is plenty."  Willow assured him as she dug into her food.  "But you have to keep talking!"  She qualified her "bogus" forgiveness as an afterthought. 

"There's much I could tell you, but covering all of it would take  years."  Sean commented off-handedly.  He turned an intent, thoughtful appraisal her way.  "What in particular are you interested in?' 

Willow nearly choked on her food.  <As if he couldn't guess!>  Willow shifted under his scrutiny, uncomfortable with the thought of having to request information about her consort from her consort's brother...  <Maybe I should just pick something more prosaic... And hope that he'll  volunteer something about Angel.  After all, it's not as if Angel ever talks about his past... willingly.> 

"Why don't you choose?"  Willow deliberately made the request leading and vague.  She also felt intensely curious about her ancestors;  especially intriguing was the thought that Sean had known so many of them personally.  <He can probably tell me so much about myself...  About who I am and who my ancestors were... And Angel did say to get him  talking.> 

Sean absently refilled his wine glass, considering.  "Would you like more?"  he asked politely, indicating her half-empty glass.  Willow shook her head.  After a moment,  he set down the bottle and began to speak.  "Eighty years ago--right before he disappeared--Angel came to see me.  He made a few cryptic comments, said good-bye, and left." 

Willow perked up; she sensed a story.  "Sounds like Angel," she commented dryly.  "What did he say?"  <Guess eighty years hasn't changed everything about him...> 

"He told me that he'd changed over the last thirty years..."  Sean trailed off, remembering.  Willow blinked.  <Eighty plus thirty equals one-hundred and ten...!!!>  Sean continued.  "Which was very true, he had." 

Sean swirled his wine, watching it spin in the candlelight.   Willow suppressed an urge to strangle the remainder out of him.  <Patience!  Rewards come to those who wait...>  Sean looked at her again.  "He told  me that other vampires had become unpleasant inner reflections and  apologized...  I didn't realize it at the time, but he was saying  good-bye."  He paused again. 

"Ummm?"  Willow leaned forward greedily, hoping that there was more. 

"He also said," Sean's voice modulated into a perfect imitation of  Angel's. "'Before you can master others, you must first master yourself'."  He smiled enigmatically and gave her a glance that said 'Go  figure *that* one out'. 

Despite herself, Willow perceived the off-beat humor Sean hinted at.  "Does he ever remind you of a Chinese fortune cookie?"  She asked dryly,  smiling faintly.  <Hey, maybe THAT's what he does for a living...!> 

Sean picked up ball without missing a beat.  "As a matter of fact,  yes!"  He grinned.  "Long before I knew what one was!"  Willow chuckled,  indulging in a brief moment of shared humor with him.  <I guess even people and demons have something in common...> 

After the humor died out, he became serious again.  "I didn't understand until much later how much not killing humans had changed  him."  Sean downed the rest of his wine and carefully set the glass  down.  "I've spent the last eighty years trying to understand, to comprehend." 

"Did you succeed?"  Willow inquired, although she already knew the very obvious answer.  <Duh...> 

"No."  Sean glanced at her sideways.  His next words were carefully guarded.  "Not until thirteen years ago when I gave up killing with the assistance of Magick." 

Willow stared at him in utter disbelief.  "Surely you don't think that I'm gullible enough to buy that, do you?"  She demanded, pushing her plate away.  <He must think that I'm a fool!> 

"Of course not,"  Sean assured her.  "Such an absurd claim would require proof and I have none." 

"So why bother lying?"  she challenged.  "It makes you look even more two-faced than you obviously are." 

"Not killing changes you..."  Sean trailed off, eyeing her carefully.  He looked positively uncomfortable.  <Like Giles discussing sex or Buffy the Master...>  Abruptly, he stated flatly, "There's no point to this conversation.  You don't believe me and it's beside the point." 

"What is the point then?"  Willow demanded, feeling somewhat thrown off-balance by his convincing theatrical performance.  <If I didn't know better, I'd think that he was telling the truth...> 

Sean stared at her pensively for a moment.  "I love my brother," he stated with brutal honesty.  His expression changed to reveal a deep-seated vulnerability that tugged at Willow's heartstrings.  "And I  want to help him before it's too late."  She desperately reminded herself to be cautious.  <*This* is NOT Angel...!  Don't buy into it, no  matter what he says!> 

"Angel's running out of time, Willow."  Sean continued his quiet pleading.  "If he doesn't trust someone soon then he's going to die,"  he stated flatly.  Willow felt her heart stop, then resume beating.  <What does he...?!>   "That is, unless this is one of Angel's schemes..." he added cynically, under his breath. 

"What do you mean?!"  She demanded, clutching frantically at the table.  Her eyes widened with fear, making her look like a frightened and vulnerable child.  <This is a trick!!!  It HAS to be!!  Angel can't  die...!!!> 

Sean wordlessly absorbed her agitation and abruptly changed the subject.  "Has Angel told you about the Phoenix Contract?"  He asked with a speculative glance.  Willow tightened her hands into tight fists,  almost ready to reach across the table and pummel him. 

"Yes."  Her reply was faint, as if coming from a great distance across  an empty room.  It lacked heart the way a vampire lacks soul.  "You can tell it to me again, to refresh my memory..."  Willow suggested, feeling sick.  "In case Angel forgot to mention something relevant," she muttered under her breath.  <Like it being lethal...> 

"Angel is infamous for his 'lapses'.  He never reveals everything.  You should have heard some of the yarns he spun for our parents while we were growing up." Sean's chuckle was forced, as he attempted to relieve the tension by finding humor where none existed. 

"So, Angel's a good liar?"  Willow stared at him, mentally trying to grasp such an absurdity.  Skilled lying was not a social skill she would have attributed to him.  <He barely knows how to open his mouth to communicate, let alone manipulate people the way his brother does.  It's a classic case of the strong silent type versus the smooth talker...> 

"Not so much a liar as a master of misdirection."  Sean elaborated.  "He always seems to know exactly the right thing to say in such a way so as to twist it to his advantage..."  Sean trailed off, seeing the disbelief in her eyes.   He sighed in hopeless exasperation, gesturing uselessly.  His voice rose for emphasis.  "Angel always manages to take the truth and twist it to his advantage.  He literally lies without ever having uttered a falsehood.  He lies with the truth." 

Willow nodded thoughtfully.  In a small way, it fit with what she knew about Angel.  <He never feeds from the living..!>  She snorted to herself with derision.  <The evidence present is contrary to his claim.  I find it impossible to believe that Angel is as skilled at lying as Sean claims!> 

"You don't believe me?"  Sean inquired with tired fatalism.  Willow watched, amazed at his performance.  <Sean's obviously describing himself, trying to plant a seed of doubt in my mind about Angel...> 

"No,"  Willow replied evenly.  "I don't." 

"It's ok--"  Sean bit the words off in frustration.  "I've seen the same thing happen a hundred times before..." He gave her a semi-disgusted look.  "Angel is a deceitful fiend and women always adore  him."  Sean smirked and Willow balked, coming close to smacking him.  <Why I ought to...!!!> 

"Ah well, no matter..."  Sean stood, in the blink of an eye recovering his aplomb.  His manners returned like quicksilver.  "If you don't object, I would like to adjourn back to the ballroom.  I'll light a  fire."  He offered graciously, leaving the decision up to her.  Willow stood, absently gnawing a hole in her lower lip. 

"Do we need to...?"  Willow trailed off, glancing significantly at their dishes.  In the meantime, unresolved worry continued to gnaw a hole in her stomach.  "Is Angel going to die?"  she asked timidly. 

"We don't need too... but if it will make you feel better."  Sean shrugged philosophically and began gathering dishes.  Willow followed suit.  "Probably.  Unless he comes to his senses." 

He headed into the kitchen with a sickened Willow in tow.  <EXACTLY what I wanted to hear!  If something was *really* killing Angel, then WHY wouldn't he have told us...?!  Or at least asked for help...?!!> 

Sean paused to hold the swinging door for her.  Willow walked past him into an expansive kitchen.  She didn't bother to look around due to the corrosive dread eating away at her insides. "However, there is some hope," he added thoughtfully.  Willow she glanced at him hopefully.  <Please, God...> 

Sean followed her into the kitchen, skillfully balancing his stack of dishes.  "If Angel gives me a chance, I think that I can free his soul from that cursed tattoo." 

"You know about the curse?!"  Willow demanded, spinning on him.  She stepped directly into Sean's path, forcing him to comically backpedal in order to avoid running her down.   "WELL?!"  She demanded, in his face,  outraged that he could so casually suggest separating Angel from his soul.  <OVER MY DEAD BODY!!> 

Sean stared at her quizzically, looking flummoxed by her sudden and utter hostility.  Then slowly, comprehension lit his eyes.  "Did Angel tell you that he was cursed by gypsies?"  He asked gently and with an enormous amount of pity.  He read his answer in her wide eyes. 

Willow backed away from him, not wanting to hear what came next.  "Willow, Angel's been using that story infrequently for over two hundred  years.  It's part of his 'vampire with a tortured soul' routine."  Sean chuckled, eyes bright with vicious amusement.  "My brother should write for Hollywood!"