Friendship

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

Willow sighed, watching Angel and Sean engage in a beat-you-senseless male bonding ritual.  She arranged herself more comfortably and located a throw pillow to prop up her chin with so that she could peer over the couch's back without difficulty.  She felt torn between exasperation and relief and even experienced a touch of pique.  <And to think that I was worried about Angel being unfriendly...!!> 

"So, how 'ave you been?"  Angel asked Sean conversationally, as if he hadn't just tried to kill him half an hour before.  He pulled away from his brother with one final slap on the back that sent Sean staggering. 

Sean exhaled, looking exasperated.  "Not too bad," he replied dryly.  "I'm getting by.  And yourself?"  He mimicked Angel's conversational tone with politely veiled sarcasm. 

"This last week has been hell."  Angel responded honestly.  "But the last eighty years weren't too bad."  He turned and headed back for the couch.  Willow met his eyes and he perceived her hurt caused by his last casual remark; she'd been part of 'this last week'.  "Willow's my silver lining."  He added deliberately, holding her gaze steadily as he approached the couch.  Willow felt her heart melt in response; she extended her hands to him. 

"*That* goes without saying."  Sean replied, subtly managing to imply that Willow was more than Angel deserved.  He followed his brother over to the couch at a sedate pace. 

"So who's the other Kindred upstairs?"  Angel turned back to Sean, issuing a nonverbal challenge while taking Willow's hands.   He took a seat on the couch while Sean walked around it in order to place his back to the fireplace.  Angel slid his jacket off, a gesture which pleased Willow because it meant he intended to stay for a while.  She scooted closer to him, content to observe their interaction in silence.  <For the time being...  Angel must be asking about Tanya...> 

"My wife, Tanya."  Sean's deliberately neutral response spoke volumes beyond his words.  "Did you see her while you were letting yourself in?"  Sean inquired, apparently wondering why Angel would attack *him* and not her.  He sounded hurt.  Willow glanced at him in silent sympathy.  <That woman was evil...!  I could *feel* it!> 

"No, I can feel her."  Angel replied casually.  "Call it hunter's instincts.  She feels like Dru."  He made the off-handed observation while gently urging Willow closer to him with his hands.  She scooted across the small space separating them to curl against his side.  <Mmmmm...> 

Sean stared at him in silence for a moment.  To Willow, he seemed aghast over Angel's comparison of Tanya to this 'Dru' person.  "Damn, Angel.  That's cold."  He finally responded.  "I've never sunk that low," he added by way of retribution. 

Willow shifted curiously, perking up out of her self-indulgent reverie.  "Who's Dru?"  She asked into the silent void.  <Sounds like someone Angel once knew...> 

"Just calling it the way I see it."  Angel replied evenly, meeting his brother's gaze.  "That one's gonna cause you trouble if you don't off her soon," he stated with the voice of experience.  Sean apparently took no offense at Angel's casual suggestion that he "off" his own wife; indeed, he even seemed mildly receptive to the thought.  <As if, maybe, he's considered it before...?> 

Angel turned his head to Willow.  "Dru was a mistake I made a long time ago."  His tone clearly forbid further discussion. 

"Oh."  Willow sighed.  <Another piece of his dark and mysterious past that he's too sensitive to talk about...> 

"Dru's dead."  Sean informed him, turning the conversation away from Tanya.  "I've heard that she was killed in Prague by a mob." 

"Dru's not dead."  Angel replied with uncanny certainty.  "I'd know."  He stated with finality.  "Darla is though," he offered peaceably.  He obviously expected Sean to be pleased with the peace offering.  Willow snuggled aggressively against him again, cuddling up a storm.  Her movements brought his attention firmly back onto her; his arms wrapped around her tightly and his fingers sought her back. 

"Willow told me."  Sean replied.  He smiled faintly and his eyes glowed with pleasure.  "The Master's dead also?" he asked.  At Angel's nod, his smile widened.  "Darla was trying to help the Master open the Hellmouth again?"  He inquired, despite his evident certainty of the answer. 

Angel nodded and began massaging Willow's back.  "The Master somehow managed to get himself trapped in a dimensional rift about sixty years ago while he was trying to open the portal."  His fingers found a particularly sore spot; Willow whimpered, torn between pleasure and pain as he massaged the knot out.  <Oh, purrrr...> 

Sean smirked.  "That was my doing."  He boasted, pride lacing every word.  "I summoned an earthquake while he was performing the ritual."  He snorted derisively,  "The arrogant fool never knew what hit him." 

"Really?"  Angel asked dryly, sending him a knowing look.  "You summoned an earthquake all by yourself?"  His tone bespoke mock awe over this impressive feat.  One hand drifted to her neck while the other discreetly slid across her bottom.  Willow turned her face into his shoulder, struggling desperately for coherence.  <If he keeps this up I'm going to...!!!  To...!!  Well, I going to do something!  That's for sure!> 

Sean grinned sheepishly.  "Well, I might have had some help," he admitted.  "But I still orchestrated the ritual," he pointed out, unwilling to give up credit for successfully imprisoning the Master.  After a thoughtful pause, he changed the subject.  "So, have you been in the Hellmouth this whole time?  Is that why I haven't been able to locate you?"  He demanded with a touch of impatience creeping into his tone. 

Angel tensed physically, leading Willow to tense up also.  He abruptly stopped rubbing her back and she sensed an impending confrontation.  <Here it comes!>  "You couldn't find me because I didn't want to be found."  Angel met his gaze with ill concealed hostility.  "I told you when I left to let it go." 

Willow tightened her grip on his body and her head came up.  She perceived that his aggressive demeanor concealed deeper, more vulnerable emotions  Mentally, she chided him.  <Angel, don't be rude!  He's your brother!> 

Angel met her eyes and his lips thinned in acknowledgment.  <Maybe, but this is personal.  Besides, I was never this stubborn.> 

Willow stared at Angel with deliberate and exaggerated disbelief.  She rounded her eyes until they watered.  <REALLY...?!  Well, I guess you're right...!> 

"And I told you when you left that I wouldn't."  Sean replied tightly, seemingly unaware of their telepathic conversation.  "THIS is important.  I need to perform a ritual to break the binding before the Phoenix rises, or it will be too late."  Willow missed the sharp glance Angel flashed his brother at those last words. 

Willow pounded her chest over her heart mockingly and lost control of her carefully suppressed smile.  <I mean, IMAGINE Angel being stubborn...!!  GASP, GASP, GASP...!!>  Angel chuckled despite himself, and Sean fell silent, apparently feeling cut out of the conversation. 

"Stop that."  Angel commanded with another smile. "This is serious," he disciplined.  Gently, he seized her neck and drew her head back down to rest against his shoulder again.  He turned his attention back to Sean.  "Sorry.  As you were saying...?" 

Sean exhaled and rolled his eyes.  Angel watched him breath with vivid interest; a moment later his envious gaze shifted to Sean's reflection in the ballroom mirror.  "To hell with the verbal sparring."  Sean replied.  "Let's cut to the chase -- I've figured out how to get your soul out of that tattoo."  He paused, waiting. 

Angel continued to stare past Sean to his reflection.  Gently, Willow prodded him.  He looked down at her and reached up to pet her head, tenderly smoothing her hair.  "This is none of your damn business."  Angel informed him rudely.  Willow poked him lightly.  <Angel!> 

"Yes.  It is."  Sean corrected him evenly.  His jaw tightened with a dawning tension.  "Why are you avoiding the subject Angel?"  He demanded with harsh suspicion.  "I know you too well not to know when something's up." 

Willow tensed up more as Angel geared up to a level of combat readiness.  Her head came up off his shoulder and her narrowed gaze briefly met his.  Angel's eyes were like ice; his expression hard and cold.  He looked away, unable to meet her eyes any longer and challenged Sean aggressively.  "Why won't you let this rest?  You KNOW what Guillaume will do to you if you help me." 

Sean bridled in response.  "You're my brother," he stated evenly, with deadly intent.  "Family comes first."  Subconsciously, he moved closed to them, leaning in to emphasize his words.  "I'll challenge Guillaume, if need be." 

*That* made Angel pause before responding.  He thoughtfully considered his brother and considered his response.  Willow reached out and seized the soft fabric of his dark gray shirt in clenched fists.  Her emotions roiled wildly while she awaited his response.  <Is THAT what this is about...?!  Angel doesn't want to accept Sean's help cause it will get his brother into trouble...???> 

"Pretty cocky if you ask me."  Angel observed mockingly of Sean's brash offer.  "Considering that *I* almost took you down just now."  Willow's exasperation turned to mild anger;  she pounded his chest threateningly with her clenched fists.  Angel absently rubbed a reassuring circle along the back of her head and resumed petting her hair. 

Sean's eyes sparked in response.  "First, I was holding back."  Angel lifted an 'Oh, really?' eyebrow in response.  "Second, you took me off guard."  Angel's expression said 'Of course, quite.' "Third, no one else in the Clan but YOU would engage in something as vulgar as a physical attack."  Sean continued with his enumeration and Willow considered bashing both of them upside the head.  Her eyes strayed longingly to the poker resting on the fireplace.  <GRRR!  MEN...!!!> 

"ENOUGH!!"  Willow interrupted Angel as he opened his mouth to counter.  "I'm sick of this arguing!"  She seized Angel's chin and turned his head toward her.  "What are you hiding this time?"  She demanded, looking him straight in the eye.  <I'm NOT in the mood for any crap right now, Angel!>  She added, reaching out to his mind. 

Angel closed his mouth and met her gaze levelly.  The resigned cast of his mouth and grim look in his eyes scared her worse than any angry outburst could have.  "It's too late."  He replied cryptically. 

"WHAT's too late?"  Willow and Sean chorused in unison. 

"You said that the ritual needs to be performed before the Phoenix rises?"  Angel asked Sean while holding Willow's gaze.  His hands settled on her shoulders supportively. 

"Yes."  Sean replied darkly.  Willow felt her last hope sinking into a watery grave at Angel's calm acceptance.  <He should be upset!!  This isn't right!  It isn't FAIR!!> 

"Then it's too late."  Angel informed him flatly.  His hands caught and supported Willow's weight as she went numb with pained disbelief.  "It started some time early this morning." 

"Let me see."  Sean snarled, advancing aggressively upon Angel.  He waited impatiently while Angel compliantly undid the buttons on his shirt with one hand and began to shrug out of it.  He continued to support Willow's unresponsive form with his other.  <Willow?>  His hand smoothed her hair gently; in sudden response, she began crying. 

Sean roughly grabbed the material of Angel's shirt and yanked it away from his shoulder blade.  In sudden, vicious anger, he muttered a curse in Gaelic and stuck his brother's back with a closed fist.  "Damn you Angel!  Why didn't you come to me sooner?!" 

"I didn't come to you at all."  Angel corrected him harshly.  His words made Willow sob harder and regret instantly replaced his hostility.  Abruptly, Willow grabbed his shoulder and dragged him forward, determined to see solid proof for herself. 

She gasped desperately for breath through her tears, through her denial.  Angel's Phoenix tattoo glowed bright red, neon red that danced and wavered like flames.  Willow extended a finger and jabbed at his flesh cautiously and quickly.  The tattoo felt warm, but not hot.  Slowly, her finger returned to it in fascination, tracing the outline of the bird while her mind screamed denial.  <Not Right!!  Not Fair!!> 

"DAMN YOU!!"  Sean snarled again, turning away from them to face the fire.  Willow echoed his sentiment in her heart.  "What the hell have you been doing for the last eighty years?  Wasting time?"  He demanded rhetorically, obviously just venting anger and pain.  He spun back to Angel wearing his demonic visage.  "You know what's going to happen to you, don't you?!" 

Angel met his gaze with stubborn silence; he made as if to reply, glanced at Willow, and then fell again.  "Yes, I know," he finally replied.  With a sigh, he pulled his shirt back on and began to button it again.  Feeling unreasonable and difficult, Willow decided to hinder him.  She buried her arms under his shirt, wrapping them around his chest, and pressed her face and lips against his pectoral.  <He's going to die or sell out his principles...> 

When Sean spoke again his words held an underlying urgency.  "I'll help you kill the Chosen," he offered grimly.  "You have no other choice now," he pointed out.  "If you want to live."  Angel's stubborn silence dragged out the tension, making it nearly unbearable.  Willow bit her tongue to avoid tearing into Sean for so casually offering to help Angel murder Xander.  <Careful...!!  It's not like he knows who the Chosen is... Or at least, who Angel thinks that it is...!>  

Sean's smooth acceptance of this unexpected development and his quick transition from setting Angel free to helping him kill the Chosen was swift, complete, and imminently practical.  "I need to know if this is part of one of your schemes or not..."  Sean added, becoming frustrated with Angel's lack of cooperation.  "I need to know whether you intend to fulfill the Contract or not." 

Angel looked up, suddenly tense and alert, combat ready.  His lips thinned.  "You tell me--  What's more evil...?  Murdering one innocent person for the sake of billions or letting the innocent live, knowing that the billions may perish as a result?"  His voice was hard and cold and full of steel. 

"Letting the innocent live."  Sean replied wearily, obviously uncertain of the point of the question.  "What does that have to do--" 

Willow suddenly stiffened, kicked out her grieved complacency by the sudden awareness of a commotion at the far side of the house.  <My range is increasing...!  People are upset...>  Willow frowned. "Something bad has happened!"  She interrupted Sean. 

Sean and Angel glanced at her in surprise.  Sean also frowned.  "Yes, I feel it.  Stay here."  He quickly strode away before a sudden thought pulled him around.  "Please wait here?"  He asked, obviously expecting to find them gone when he returned, otherwise.  His eyes met Willow's and she nodded, indicating that she wouldn't let Angel leave.  <Not until we settle this...!> 

He accepted her unspoken promise and left in a hurry.  Angel sat up.  "Let's get out--"  Willow pounced, intent on distracting him from leaving.  She seized his mouth and kissed him with urgent longing and unspoken pain.  She poured her sorrow into the demanding kiss and dug her fingernails deeply into his chest wall, racking him painfully.  The slight injury immediately produced the desired and expected result; a wave of feral and explosive lust swept through Angel, drowning out rational thought. 

Angel flipped her over, reversing their positions.  As their mouths mated hungrily, their bodies rubbed together with unbearable friction.  Willow pushed his shirt away, desperately running her hands over the defined contours of his chest.  Their bodies parted slightly, as hands sought clothing; only their mouths held them fused together.  Her sensitive fingertips found and traced the line of his ribcage as he pushed seeking hands up under her back. 

Willow pulled her mouth away in order to breath.  "It buttons in the front," she gasped.  Angel emitted a soft sound somewhere between a growl and a purr of acknowledgment and reached for the front buttons of her dress.  Then, his evil, annoying conscience managed to wedge a rational thought past his desire.  Angel froze over her, struggling for control the way he might fight the desire to kill. 

"This isn't right."  He gasped, as Willow stuck his chest with her small fists in frustration and denial.  "We're acting like teenagers," he muttered, disgusted with his own lack of control.  Willow hit him lightly again, almost in tears.  <NO!!  STOP BEING SO RESPONSIBLE!!!> 

"I AM a teenager."  Willow informed him, suddenly furious.  "And I want to act like one."  She added petuantly, pouting.  <I mean, why not...?!  What could possibly be his problem now..?!> 

"Well, I'm not,"  Angel said brusquely.  He sat up and pulled his shirt back on.  Willow watched him button it with mortal anguish.  Upon taking in her utterly pitiful expression, his expression softened with sympathy.  He reached out to cradle her face with his hand, pushing her tousled hair back.  "Willow, we need to talk." 

Willow clenched her teeth and looked down, unable to meet his eyes any longer.  <Oh, no...!  "The TALK" again...> Uncertainty and insecurity replaced her disappointment.  "Well, I don't want to talk," she informed him.  "Besides, I already know everything that you're going to say." 

"Do you?"  Angel queried, looking skeptical.  "Why don't you tell me then?"  His manner held that same smug, lazy masculine superiority that Willow found both so appealing and so annoying.  <He's so yummy...!!> 

"You're going to say something about you being too old and me being too young."  Willow ground out, almost growling at him, enumerating "one" with her finger.  "AS IF, you're EVER going to find someone your own age who's not a vampire.  AS IF, by 18th Century standards, I'm not old enough to be considered a woman." 

 Angel began to reply but Willow cut him off.  "I'm not through."  She held up her fingers to indicate "two".  "You're going to tell me that I should be waiting for an opportunity to make love for the first time with a boy my own age."  Willow judged that her point struck home by the agreement in his eyes.  "AS IF, I'm ever going to find a teenage boy with two hundred years of experience who could be kinder, more considerate, or love me more than you do." 

He stared at her, looking vulnerable and uneasy at having his emotions so explicitly spelled out.  Willow gently sent him a reassuring wave of love and tenderness.  <I feel the same way...  It's so hard to trust, isn't it...?>  To her frustration, he closed up emotionally and began to withdraw like a frightened rabbit into its hole.  His hand gently glided along the side of her face to her throat and his eyes fastened on the bruise his fangs left.  "Willow, I--" 

"And finally,"  Willow waved her finger in his face to shut him up.  "You're going to pretend that you're afraid of losing control and hurting me when you're really afraid of emotional intimacy." 

"You don't understand."  Angel began desperately, as much out of his element as a nun at an orgy.  "Last night--"  his fingers touched the bruise.  "I *enjoyed* scaring you.  I did it deliberately and your fear turned me on."  His lips thinned and he continued with his rushed confession.  His eyes held hers, driving the truth home.  "Frightened virgins used to be one of my favorite kills--"  His lips pulled back into a snarl and he trailed off, but Willow didn't miss the implication.  <He used to do much more than frighten them...> 

"I know; I have a good imagination."  Willow replied.  Her body trembled as it recalled the sensations he invoked.  Angel mistook the trembling for fear and began to stand, retreating from the expected rejection.  "Last night was fun."  Willow grabbed his arms and dragged him back down.  "I'd be willing to do that again, if you want to play..."  She offered hesitantly, while shifting in order to clench her legs together in discomfort.  <AS IF it didn't excite me too...  Lord Oh Lord!!!  He's such a bad influence on me!!!> 

Willow smiled with irony, wondering where shy, mousy Willow had gone.  Angel's astonished eyes flew back to hers; if she'd sprouted extra appendages he couldn't have been more shocked.  She saw the underlying desire her offer provoked before he managed to bury it.  "I trust you, Angel--" 

Abruptly, she frowned, her attention being dragged away by renewed activity from the house's other occupants.  She never heard Angel's reply.  <People are upset...  And coming this way...>   Willow shifted restlessly, absently noticing a dark web of telepathic activity also coming from the other side of the house.  The dark web became more complex and Willow reached out curiously to touch it. 

Suddenly, she cried out sharply in anguish and fear.  An ugly, malevolent spider at the center of the web reached out and tried to bite her.  Angel snarled, his face transforming with fury at the unknown threat.  Willow felt the spider grab hold of her mind as it tried to bite her again.  It was stronger than she; more powerful by far, and many tendrils of web wrapped around her mind, binding it helplessly.  She bucked wildly with all of her will and momentarily broke free. 

"ANGEL!!"  <ANGEL!!>  She screamed, terrified, throwing herself into his mind.  The dark spider tried to follow her frenzied retreat and Willow buried herself deeper into the inhumanly beautiful darkness of his mind.  She felt undirected demonic fury erupt and instinctively channeled it back into the spider's web.  For a brief, glorious moment they acted as one and turned on the spider, driving it back. 

As abruptly, Willow found herself back in her own head, her hands clutched in Angel's.  His game face remained and he continued to growl warningly, despite the lack of physical threat.  Sean and numerous armed guards burst into the room.  Mike followed carrying a shotgun.  Tanya entered last, following sedately in their tumultuous wake.  Willow glared at her with great hatred.  <She's the spider...!!> 

Angel sprang to his feet, primed for a fight.  He roughly shoved Willow down onto the couch.  Then, he rushed over to Sean, who met him along the mirrored wall, halfway across the ballroom.  They stopped a carefully measured distance from each other. "What's going on?"  Each demanded of the other in unison.  Mike came to a halt, directly behind Sean, holding his shotgun at ready. 

Willow's head popped up again, in time to see Angel indicate for Sean to go first.  "Peter's been found dead from a crossbow bolt to the heart."  Sean informed him grimly.  He pointed a distrustful finger towards Angel.  "Did you bring the Slayer into our midst?"  He demanded, glaring accusingly.  He towered with fury over Angel's supposed betrayal. 

Mike moved his shotgun slightly, aiming for Sean's back.  From her peripheral vision, Willow noticed Tanya smirking and sensed the control the evil vampiress exerted over the minds of the guards. 

        "SEAN, BEHIND YOU!!"  Willow screamed mentally and verbally, cutting off Angel's reply.