Friendship

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

Willow woke from her "dream" with a start.  Her breath came frantically and her heart beat with driving rhythm.  <Angel...?!>  She looked up and saw Sean standing with his back to her, staring up at the portrait of himself and his siblings.  Frantically she glanced about, knowing full well that Angel was here somewhere.  <But where?!  Should I warn Sean...?!> 

Someone flashed by overhead; Willow gasped.  Angel landed with his back to her, having cleared the couch with the smooth, lethal leap of a puma.  He didn't hesitate and he didn't make a sound.  His momentum carried him across the short distance to his brother in three flowing strides.  He held a stake in his right hand, level with Sean's back. 

Sean twisted instinctively in response to Willow's gasp.  Angel's blow missed and he skidded around in a tight half-circle as his smooth soled shoes slid across the slick marble floor.  He controlled the gliding turn perfectly, with the finesse of an ice skater.  As he came around, Willow saw that his face was that of a demon. 

Sean gestured sharply and the stake burst into flames in Angel's hand.  "ANGEL, WAIT!"  Sean tried raising his palms in a calming motion, to demonstrate he wished to talk, not fight.  "Let me--" 

"YOU BLED HER!"  Angel interrupted, the accusation a calm, deadly hiss.  He deliberately cast the burning stake away from himself with a controlled toss, showing no sign of pain despite his scorched palm.  The stake bounced with a clatter across the marble floor.  Angel snarled and lunged. 

"YOU DON'T UNDER--"  Sean's hurried explanation was cut short as Angel's fist slammed into his face with the force of a pile driver.  Willow heard a sharp crack as Sean's jaw broke from the blow.  Sean crashed to the ground and his face transformed in fury.  As he tried to regain his feet, Angel viciously kicked him in the side again and again.  The force of the blows lifted his body into the air and Angel followed through with another brutal kick to his head that left Sean stunned. 

"You promised not to touch her!"  Angel hissed, reaching down.  With swift, malevolent intent he grabbed his brother by the throat and hauled him bodily across the room towards the fireplace.  Willow felt her stunned brain kick into turbo drive.  <Omigod!  Angel's gonna kill him!> 

"ANGEL DON'T!"  She bounded off the couch, tripping herself repeatedly in the blanket entangling her.  "WAIT!"  She stumbled with desperate determination across the room.  Telepathically, she reached out to him through the link and bounced off his fury and the solid mental barrier surrounding his mind.  Unable to reach him mentally, she continued to try physically, even as Angel reached the fireplace.  <OH NO!!  TOO LATE!!> 

Sean abruptly came to and instinctively seized his brother's arm as Angel prepared to thrust him into the roaring blaze.  His struggles were feeble, however, they delayed Angel momentarily.  As Angel wrested with Sean for control Willow hurled herself onto his back, plastering her body against his.  Her soft breasts were crushed into his taunt muscles and she wrapped her arms around his neck, heedless of her own safety.  Her feet dangled uselessly behind her like a kite tail. 

"Angel, wait!  Please?"  She pleaded softly into his ear.  Willow wrapped her knees around his hips, gaining a more stable piggy-back hold on him.  Angel stopped moving under her weight, realizing that a sudden movement might throw her into the fire.  He snarled warningly at Sean and shifted uneasily, certain the his brother would take advantage of the handicap Willow presented. 

Sean ceased trying to resist, trusting his life to Willow.  His broken jaw prevented him from speaking.  Willow pressed a soft kiss to the flesh under his ear, cooing soothingly.  "He didn't hurt me."  Lightly, she breathed into his ear, exhaling warm moist breath persuasively.  Angel tightened his hold on his brother's throat and hesitated, turning his head slightly towards her.  His eyes contained only a hint of coherent sanity.  "Sean didn't bleed me."  Willow whispered, gently stroking his hair. 

"I cut my ankle while I was throwing china at him," she explained.   Willow reached her right hand around to cradle the left side of his face in her palm.  With a smooth motion she slid off his back.  Angel caught her arm and held her steady while she gained her footing.  His eyes narrowed but he allowed her to draw him around and slightly away from the fire.  However, he did not loosen his grip on his brother's throat even slightly.  "He didn't harm me."  she reiterated softly. 

With a great deal of shouting and an accompanying racket some of Sean's guards came running into the room, finally responding to the commotion emerging from the ballroom. Guns clicked loudly as they skidded to a confused halt.  They stood with their guns raised in uncertainty, unsure of which brother to aim at. 

"China?"  Angel glanced at the guards briefly and then down at her feet curiously. Sean turned his head to the side, clenching his jaw and grimacing painfully as the healing process began.  He did his best to shake his head no to the guards. 

"I lost my temper."  Willow explained, releasing his face in order to move her blood stained skirts aside and expose her bandaged ankle.  "See," she said gently, pointing.  "He even bandaged me up."  Angel stared down at her ankle through suspicious eyes.  His gaze then traveled to her throat and conducted a through visual inspection.  Willow felt her temperature rise mildly in embarrassment.  <I don't like the way he's looking at me...!> 

Angel's eyes narrowed suspiciously.  "Why are you defending him?"  he demanded, jealousy creeping into his voice.  "Why don't you want him dead?" 

Willow felt anger rising high and fast like a flooding river that he could even THINK that she might prefer Sean to him.  <HOW DARE YOU!!!>   "BECAUSE," she hissed.  "HE CAN HELP YOU!"  Her color rose with her tone.   Angel glanced briefly at the fire again, considering.  He looked ready to ignore her and chuck Sean in.  Willow poked him hard in the chest with her forefinger in order to regain his attention.  "ANGEL, PUT HIM DOWN NOW!!!"  She cracked the command like a whip. 

Angel blinked in surprise and straightened, obeying with alacrity.  Sean dropped out of his grip like a dead rat and collapsed heavily to the floor.  His head cracked loudly on the fireplace on his way down.  He moaned and rolled away, dragging himself weakly.  The guards continued to mill in confusion, uncertain of who and if to shoot. 

"Yes, ma'am."  He replied, sheepishly shuffling his feet as his face returned to being human.  Willow drew back her finger and prepared to stake him with another solid poke.  <GRRRRR!!!!> 

"AND WHILE WE'RE ON THE SUBJECT, HOW DARE YOU NOT ASK YOUR FRIENDS FOR HELP WHEN YOUR LIFE IS IN DANGER?!!!!"  The power and volume of her shout blew him back a foot.  Willow advanced on him aggressively and drilled his chest with a sharp jab.  <OOOHHH!!  MEN!!!> 

Deeming this an opportune time to retreat, Sean gestured to two of his guards.  They moved over to help him to his feet and, with their assistance, he beat a hasty retreat from the ballroom.  The remaining guards gawked with salacious curiosity over their shoulders at the slender girl berating the sheepishly cowed vampire and followed.  Neither Angel nor Willow noticed them leave. 

"I'm sorry."  Angel apologized, retreating from her wrathful finger.  "I promise that it won't happen again?"  He offered her a hopeful lopsided smile and soulful brown puppy-dog eyes. 

Willow came to a halt, stilling her hand in mid-jab.  She stared at him with heart-rending eyes and tremulous lips as her heart broke like fragile porcelain.  The emotional burden she carried became too much and tears began to spill over.  "Please tell me that it's not true?"  Willow begged, sniffling pathetically.  <Tell me Sean lied... Or was wrong...> 

Angel pulled her gently into his arms.  "I'm sorry, Willow."  He touched her hair and cradled her tenderly, with her head resting against his shoulder.  She clutched at his jacket.  "I wish that I could."  His hand traveled in reassuring patterns on her back. 

Willow sobbed for only a moment, before pulling herself back together.  Still holding onto the lapels of his leather jacket, she looked directly up at him.  "Tell me how you might die."  She demanded, unwilling to waste precious time indulging her fears.  "Sean wouldn't explain why."  <We can figure some way out of this together.  Sean can help!  He said so...!> 

"Willow, this isn't really the time."  Angel told her firmly.  He scanned the room cautiously, apparently wondering where the bad guys had gone to.  "I need to get you out of here."  He informed her, absently taking charge and her arm.  He began to move towards the entryway, attempting to pull her along behind him.  Willow dug in her feet and stubbornly refused to move.  Angel glanced back curiously when he felt her resistance. 

"NO."  She informed him, narrowing her eyes and planting her feet.  <I'm not going anywhere until he explains...!!!> 

"What?"  The word was pulled from his mouth in astonishment.  He stared at her, torn between disbelief and confusion. 

"I said 'no'."  Willow stubbornly crossed her arms and jutted a willful chin out.  "I'm not leaving."  She stamped her foot for emphasis.  "Not until you explain yourself." 

Angel stared at her evaluatively, attempting to gauge her mood.  He studied her and eyeballed her.  After a moment, he sighed and give in.  He gently took her shoulders, guiding her over to the couch.  At his firmly insistent touch, she allowed herself to be seated.  Once seated beside her, he asked.  "How much has Sean told you?" 

"He mentioned a threat to your life in relation to the Phoenix Contract, but nothing specific."  Willow supplied, focusing hard upon remaining calm and coherent.  Emotionally, she balanced precariously upon a wave of emotional hysteria.  "And about the Kindred wanting the Hellmouths closed."  She added as an afterthought.  <Which I still can't reasonably connect to Angel being chosen to kill a Watcher...  I mean logically, the Watchers want the Hellmouths closed so they should at least be working together to that end...> 

"My Clan wants the Hellmouths closed," Angel agreed. 

"Then why don't they try to help the Watchers instead of killing them?"  Willow demanded, sounding exasperated.  "That makes no sense." 

"I know."  Angel agreed with her mildly.  "I've thought the same thing for a long time, but Tradition holds that the Watchers are the enemy."  Before she could protest the illogical of that again, he added.  "Most Elders are narrow-minded traditionalists.  There's no point in arguing with them; you just make enemies." 

Willow sighed, still upset and more impatient than ever for a complete explanation.  "Sean also said something about freeing your soul from that tattoo and implied that it presents some sort of threat to your  life...?" 

"Do you remember everything I told you about it?"  Angel inquired gently, keeping his tone soothing and kind.  He seemed more concerned with not upsetting her than the threat to his own life.  Willow nodded, chewing her lower lip again.  They were already chapped from the recent cold weather, lack of care, and her constant biting and chewing.  This latest assault threatened to split her lower lip open. 

"Stop that."  Angel scolded.  He extended his hand to cradle her face and his thumb soothed her lip in sympathy.  Willow complied, turning her face into his hand, grateful for the intimacy of the touch.  "When the next Immortal Watcher is chosen, a powerful supernatural entity called  the Phoenix will rise."  He paused, thinking. 

"The Phoenix from legend?"  Willow inquired into the lull.  <Angel  measures his words so much more carefully than Sean...  He thinks before he speaks and mentally weighs the repercussions of every word...  I  wonder what--or who--made him so cautious...?> 

"I suppose; I'm not certain."  Angel responded absently, peering over her shoulder.  "According to Prophecy, the transformation of the Chosen mortal will take place over three days.  The Phoenix will expend an immense amount of energy upon the mortal during these three days."  Angel's voice dropped off in volume till he became almost impossible to hear.  Willow scooted closer, mentally noting the way he continued to watch her back.  <He's REALLY starting to make me nervous...!!> 

"Is someone back there?"  She asked, whispering steathfully. 

"No, just being careful."  Angel's tone rose slightly.  He continued with his story.  "The tattoo holds a powerful spell, binding me to the Phoenix and the Chosen. This spell would capture the Phoenix's power and store it in the tattoo.  Later, the mystical energy could be tapped and used it to close the Hellmouths forever."  As an afterthought, he added.  "The Phoenix can only choose one mortal once every thousand years." 

Abruptly, Angel's eyes returned to hers.  "I'm supposed to drain the Chosen before the transformation is complete.  I'm supposed to murder an innocent person in order to close the Hellmouths forever."  He informed her flatly, with an inscrutable expression.  "It effectively kills two birds with one stone.  The Hellmouths are closed forever and the Immortal Watcher is gone for a millennium." 

Willow's eyes and mouth widened in response.  She felt a sinking feeling begin in her stomach, as the lead weight pulley system dwelling there dropped again.  <Chosen...?  Buffy...?> 

"No, not Buffy."  Angel denied grimly, responding to her unspoken thought.  "She already has a dark fate."  Willow searched his eyes,  looking for humor, and found none.  "The Chosen will be a normal human person." 

"Do you know who?"  Willow demanded with urgency. 

"Not for certain, but I suspect."  Angel gave her another indecipherable ~look~.  "Giles would likely know the Chosen's identity.  That's why I never explained the tattoo; it would have felt like a  betrayal."  Willow didn't miss the gruesome implication there.  <Angel  was--or is--thinking about going through with this...> 

"Giles, Buffy, and Xander have disappeared, Willow."  Angel pointed out, without elaboration.  Willow made the next logical leap on her own.  <The Chosen's not supposed to be Giles or Buffy...  But it would  make sense for them to take the Chosen into hiding...!!!> 

"XANDER!!!"  Willow exclaimed shrilly.  "YOU THINK--" 

"Hush."  Angel pressed two fingers to her lips.  He cast another suspicious glance around the room.  "Don't say that again, unless you want to risk getting your love killed."  He ordered harshly, nearly growling the command.  His dislike and jealously of Xander were clearly evident.  "Besides, I'm only speculating." 

Willow nearly swallowed her tongue.  She glanced around the ballroom, now sharing his ill-ease. Angel pushed on with his explanation, obviously in a hurry to get out of here *fast*.  "I was chosen as the  assassin because I discovered the Prophecy and proposed the entire plan."  Willow stared at him with utter incredulity, listening to his confession through a surreal haze.  <Is this another dream...?!> 

"Not this time."  Angel acknowledged her thought verbally, before responding.  <Close your mind up.  You're broadcasting all over the place.  You can't afford to let your guard slip like that, not *here*.> 

His paranoia became downright contagious, much like the flu. Willow nodded and responded in thought.  <Tell me the rest over the link.  That's a secure channel, right?> 

<Relatively.  It depends but a powerful telepath could theoretically listen in.  NOW do you see why I was hesitant to tell you this HERE?>  Angel somehow managed to send an inquiry devoid of emotion.  Willow fearfully nodded, remembering Sean telling her that he and his wife were telepaths. 

She also wondered how exactly Angel managed to send thought without feeling.  <His control is amazing.  I tend to broadcast all over the place...  And every thought is muddled down with feelings...  It's like static on a telephone line...!> 

"The rest isn't significant."  Angel closed down the link gently,  switching back to spoken words.  To Willow it felt like the difference between an T1 line and a 96K baud modem.  "I told you the tattoo was a mark of prestige among my kind, a reward for killing Juliana, a Slayer whom Guillaume despised."  Angel's voice tightened slightly as he spoke  ~Her~ name.  His hand absently slid to her forearm, as if seeking comfort. 

He hesitated, grappling with some inner demon before continuing.  "It also held a hidden punishment for me, because I'd disobeyed him.  He couldn't punish me publicly without losing face, so he found a more subtle way of retaliating..."  Angel hesitated, measuring his words before continuing.  "I expected retribution, but I didn't know exactly what form it had taken until Sean told me."  His last words were forced, as if he loathed to part with his secret.  "If I fail to kill the Chosen before the transformation is complete, then I die." 

"Why did you agree to that damn tattoo in the first place?"  Willow demanded, near tears. 

"Power."  Angel's eyes momentarily burned with a strangely compelling light that chilled her soul.  "I hungered for it the way others of my kind desire blood.  I was willing to risk anything, do anything necessary to achieve it.  Even risk my own existence."  The light in his eyes died, leaving them as dark as coal. 

Their eyes met; emotions surged wildly in hers in neat counterpoint to his extraordinary control.  This very control suddenly infuriated her. Willow felt her own control over an emotional tidal wave slipping as she lost her balance.  <I'm going to lose Angel or Xander... or both of them.  There's no way I could keep loving him if he killed Xander...> She met his eyes and said the first thing that came to mind.  "There never was a curse, was there?"  She thrust the sharp demand at him like a stake. 

Angel flinched and withdrew his hand from her arm as quickly as one would from a leper.  He visibly gathered himself and finally met her eyes levelly.  "No."  He admitted plainly, without pretense this time. "I lied." 

"Why did you lie?"  She demanded, sharply again.  Willow began to tremble with something close to fury.  Senseless anger at the injustice of her loss.  <Easy... Try to stay calm...  Getting mad at him won't change things...> 

"I didn't want to fight Buffy."  Angel continued with his confession, making no attempt to excuse his behavior.  He simply stated the facts. "At the time, a simple lie was easier to explain than the truth."  A bittersweet smile twisted his lips and he offered her as close to an apology as he'd yet come.  "Believe me, I've regretted it," he stated softly.  "You can't image how I've come to despise that 'curse'". 

Willow drew an angry breath, preparing to launch a condemnatory tirade, preparing to rip him to shreds.  She looked up, saw his eyes, and stopped.  They held grim resignation, self-hatred and willingness to accept any punishment that she choose to heap upon him.  <He's already damned himself and is just waiting for me to do so again...> 

Angel shifted uncomfortably at her hesitation.  "There's NOTHING special that makes ME any different from THEM."  He ground the words out at her, hoping to provoke her to anger.  She could see the pain in his eyes and knew that her silence represented another brand of torture for him.  <I don't need to condemn him; he's already condemned himself.> 

Willow felt her gut twist with empathy and she raised her hands to his face, letting her anger dissolve.  He flinched as her fingers gently touched the sides of his face.  <If I give up on him now then he may give up on himself.  He's been lonely for so long...  Angel needs love, not more hate.> 

"But you are different."  She stated tenderly, cradling his face in her hands.  He stared at her in astonishment.  Her eyes held nothing but forgiveness, acceptance, and faith in him.  Again.  Willow gently nudged their link open and let her forgiveness flow through, letting him feel its reality and substance. 

Angel closed his eyes in disbelief.  His confusion and shock destroyed his extraordinary emotional control, reducing his feelings to an incredibly mixed up jumble.  Willow felt his fear waging with his heart; hope against cynical skepticism.  He wanted this to be real; he feared it was a dream.  Gradually, she felt the tension leave his body as gratitude and relief came with acceptance.  However, his mind remained a confusing swirl of conflicting emotions as another silent, inner battle raged. 

Abruptly, he surrendered to the feeling.  Willow sat perfectly still, stunned as it hit her with crystalline clarity.  Angel opened his eyes and his hands came up to cradle her face.  Love, pure and powerful welled up through the link between them. 

Angel leaned forward and took her mouth gently with his own.  This kiss was poetry, music lifting their spirits up into heaven.  He abandoned himself to her with fervor reminiscent of worship and Willow came to understand how totally love meant possession.  Her fingers curled lovingly into his hair and she returned his love and his kiss. <Mine...> 

"Yes, yours,"  Angel acknowledged with a chuckle and drew back slightly.  Willow whimpered slightly at his withdrawal, despite the circumstance.  He took her hand and squeezed gently; his eyes promised more of the same later.  "We need to get out of here."  He informed her with some urgency.  <Otherwise, I'm going to be trapped in Monterey when the sun rises.> 

"But, Sean says that he can free your soul from the tattoo!"  Willow protested.  At the denial in his eyes, she pleaded.  "At least talk to him?  Pretty please?  For me?"  Mentally, she prepared to dig in her heels again.  Angel's lips tightened with impatience and he looked ready to toss her over his shoulder.  Willow courageously gathered herself to resist, feeling like a Chihuahua against a Great Dane, but willing to give it her dog-gone best.  <Sean's the only hope we have left and I'm NOT going to let Angel throw it away!!> 

"Willow, Sean is a vampire," he explained patiently.  "Maybe he didn't harm you, but I still don't trust him and I despise him on principle." Angel's words lacked the conviction of true hatred; instead he sounded simply tired.  "I've put you in too much danger already.  I just want to get you back to Sunnydale where you'll be safe."  Willow didn't miss the irony in his words, nor the unspoken 'relatively' preceding the word safe. 

"Sean stopped killing humans thirteen years ago,"  Willow determinedly tried again.  Angel didn't reply, his look of silent disbelief said it all.  "Look, I know that sounds preposterous and I didn't believe him either...  Well, not until after I knocked him in the head with a pot and locked myself into his office and broke into his computer..." Willow trailed off.  A slight smile tugged at Angel's lips.  "What?" she demanded, perplexed.  <What could he possibly find amusing?> 

"Nothing,"  Angel replied, his smile widening marginally.  "Sounds like you had a busy evening." 

"Yes, well, it was informative," she acknowledged wryly.  <This whole week has been...!>  "But that's not the point.  Look, Sean's gone to a lot of trouble to find you and I think he's sincere about wanting to help.  So, I think that you ought to at least talk to him before you just give up and die or murder an innocent person." 

Willow blinked back tears.  Angel began to respond and she cut him off.  "Not that I believe that you would or anything but you ought to at least talk to him."  A tear spilled over and he absently wiped it away with a finger.  "Please, for me?" she pleaded again. 

"She's right,"  Sean spoke from the ballroom to entryway entrance, announcing his presence.  Slowly, he entered the room.  "You ought to at least talk to me.  Especially since I just spent the last hundred and nine years trying to figure out how to set you free." 

Angel sighed wearily, meeting Willow's eyes.  <For you.>  She nodded gratefully in acknowledgment.  Angel stood a in single smooth motion and crossed the ballroom, advancing on his brother with lithe, deadly grace.  "Stealing my girl is one of the dumbest things that you've ever done, little brother."  He accused in a silky dark tone. 

Sean backed up fearfully, remembering Angel's earlier attack.  "Now Angel,"  he raised placating hands in front of himself.  Angel's swift advancement brought him into close physical proximity with Sean, close enough to attack again.  Sean hurriedly backpedaled.  "I was only trying to--" 

"Don't let it happen again."  Angel lashed out and grabbed his brother, dragging him into a hug.  While Willow watched, the brothers engaged in the time-honored, traditional male bonding ritual of back-pounding.  She exhaled, letting out the breath she'd been holding.  <Boy, it's been a long day...>