Friendship

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

Sean hesitated distrustfully for a fraction of a second; a fraction of a second too long.  Mike's shotgun blast took him full in the back.  Wooden shot punctured his chest, tearing apart his body, ripping through his heart.  The glass mirror beside him shattered, broken glass flying everywhere as shrapnel hit it.  But instead of being blown into dust like a proper vampire, Sean staggered forward toward Angel while an astonished Mike stared on.  "Damn!"  Mike muttered, staring bug-eyed at his shotgun.  "How could I have missed his heart?" 

Willow jumped with agitated horror over the couch and Angel reacted even faster, tearing across the short distance to his brother like a bat out of hell.  Mentally, she lashed out, launching an all-out psionic attack against Mike's mind, even as he pulled the trigger again.  She ran into a solid mind shield--  *BAM*. <DAMN!!!   That hurt!  Tanya's protecting him!!> 

Mike's second shot went low.  Instead of hitting Sean square in the back, the wooden shot blew away the majority of his lower abdomen.  Sean snarled in fury and denial as he slowly doubled over in pain, reduced to an invalid.  Angel accidentally cast his brother into the mirrored wall as he shoved past.  Sean hit the wall hard, the sharp glass lacerating his hands and an entire side of his handsome face.  Angel's beeline for Mike's throat was interrupted when one of the guards deliberately shot him in the upper thigh, causing his charge to falter.  He clutched at his thigh, snarling viciously, as he regained his momentum. 

Willow gave up attempting to crack open Mike's shield and turned her attention to the telepathic web.  She sensed Tanya kept an iron hold over the minds of the remaining guards, holding them in reserve, in case they were needed.  <Maybe I can break her hold on the guards.>  She began to reach again and too late felt the spider creep up behind her.  Tanya seized Willow's shoulders from behind; the spider thrust her forward limbs into Willow's mind and slowly began to pry her open like a nut shell.  Willow wailed in agony as small pieces of her shields cracked off, exposing the sweet meat of her essence.  She shuddered in horror, realizing that Tanya intended to mentally rape and then consume her being.  <ANGEL!!!> 

"ANGEL!!!"  She screamed his name again, instinctively reaching for her protector.  Angel growled, staggered to a confused halt, and turned.  The ephemeral, ethereal nature of the threat did not go over well with his baser instincts, which screamed 'Kill!  Rend! Tear!"  He hesitated, torn between helping Willow and taking out a solid opponent.  Protective instincts won out and he turned his attention inward, lending her his strength and his fury.  His essence dropped over hers like a living cloak. 

Another guard fired a blast of regular shot which hit Angel square in the chest.  Angel dropped to the ground.  Mike, content that Angel would not attack him, scratched his head absently as he stared at his treacherously misbehaving weapon.  "I KNOW the shot is wood!  I loaded it myself!" he exclaimed.  While he inspected his rounds, Sean began to drag himself slowly, torturously away through broken glass.  Mike glanced at him once, unconcerned, and arrogantly went back to inspecting his gun.  Sean could not escape him at a crawl. 

Ignoring the blinding pain coming from Angel, Willow mentally grabbed hold of him and used him like a blunt instrument to bludgeon Tanya repeatedly.  She envisioned a dark splattered blot with crooked, broken spider legs attached and struck again.  <TAKE THAT, YOU BITCH!!!>  Tanya buttressed her defenses against Willow's attack, but at a cost.  Her strength wavered and her mental hold on Willow broke, forcing her to withdraw lest Willow further upset the tenacious hold she kept over the guards' minds. 

Meanwhile, Mike, satisfied that the shot was indeed wood, turned, leveling his weapon at the man he'd called father.  Turned in time to see the mortally injured Sean vanish into one of the intact full length mirrors along the wall.  "FUCK!!"  Furious at his prey's escape, Mike threw a tantrum, firing several times into the unbroken mirrors, shattering each one.  Cursing, he turned to the guards.  "Search the house and find him!  He'll go to his office first.  When you find him, kill him." 

Rabid with anger, Tanya crawled out of Willow's mind and spun her around.  "BITCH!!"  She hissed, brutally back-handing the pretty red-headed girl across the face.  Her wedding ring opening a long, thin gash along Willow's cheek that ended near her upper lip.  Stunned, Willow's head snapped to the side under the blow.  She fell back from Tanya in fear, moving closer to Mike and Angel.  Mike and his guards turned to gawk in astonishment and Angel, somehow, found the strength to begin recovering his footing yet again, despite his severe injuries. 

Mike pointed at the guards again, signaling out two.  "You two!  Stay!"  He gestured angrily at the remainder.  Go!"  he snarled at them.  Growling softly, Angel sprang to his feet unsteadily.  Mike whirled and swung the shotgun over his head long and wide.  He used the butt of the gun as a club, repeatedly bludgeoning the back of Angel's head.  Angel dropped to the ground unconscious after the second blow.  Willow ran over to him, nearly hysterical. 

Angel lay motionless in a rapidly growing pool of blood, fed by his own injuries.  Blood poured from his chest and leg.  Willow sensed severe damage throughout his entire body.  Mike and the two remaining guards in the room watched curiously but made no move to interfere as she dropped to her knees beside him.  She landed in the pool of blood and gently lifted his head, wincing when her fingers found a goose-egg sized lump on the back of his head.  His face was coated with blood seeping from his eyes, nose, and even his ears.  <Omigod!  He was hurt during the psionic fight as well... Oh, God, Angel!  I'm so sorry...!  This is all my fault!> 

She gingerly pulled him over, cradling him in her arms to the best of her ability.  Unaware of the tears streaming down her face, Willow glared up at Mike in defiance.  She looked ravished and wild, her thin stark face portraying a woman of strength and a little girl in pain.  Mike continued to stand over them, watching her with fascination.  "Why?"  Willow choked hoarsely on the request, her world glazing with hate for the first time in her life.  <I'm going to make them regret this if it's the last thing I EVER do... I SWEAR IT.> 

"Believe me, Willow, I didn't want to."  Mike carefully kneeled beside her to examine Angel.  "Sean's been like a father to me."  He shrugged philosophically; easy come, easy go.  "But when Mother realized that he intended to betray the Clan by helping Angel instead of reporting his treason, we had no choice." He stood again and gestured  to the guards.  Tanya continued to glare at her silently, but Willow felt her presence like a malignant cancer, threatening her life and her sanity.  <She's just drooling to take another shot at me...  When I don't have Angel to protect me and she isn't occupied controlling all of the guards...  I'm not going to stand a chance...> 

Willow had to bite her lips to stop from quaking in fear.  The guards approached and Willow hovered over Angel protectively, like a mother with her child, refusing to move.  Mike grrd in annoyance and finally reached out to grab her arms in a rough, brutal grip, hauling her away from him.  "Take him downstairs and lock him up before he comes to."  The guards bent to comply, robotically lifting Angel's limp form between them by his arms.  They carried him, feet dragging, through the house and down a flight of stairs into the house's basement. 

Mike followed with Willow, manhandling and jostling her in a manner unwarranted, for she offered no resistance.  She wanted to and, for a moment, considered doing so, but the cruel gleam in his eye stopped her.  <He'd love to put me in my place.  No sense in giving him any excuses.  And also, I don't want to risk being separated from Angel.> 

Sean's basement boasted two well-outfitted, thoroughly modern high security cells.  Each was plushly carpeted, had two comfortable bunks, and an enclosed bathroom for privacy.  Willow snorted to herself derisively.  <Trust Sean to have the very latest in home prisons.!> 

The guards dumped Angel's limp form onto one of the bunks and Willow scampered in behind them, almost eager to escape into the cell and be away from Mike's malevolent presence behind her.  "I'll allow you to stay with Angelus until after the trial."  Mike smiled graciously, obviously impressed with his own generosity and expecting her to be also.  Willow curbed her tongue, to avoid telling him exactly what she thought of him.  <Self-important bastard!  I'd like to rip his testicles off and feed them to piranha!!> 

"What trial?"  She demanded instead.  "And this is a violation of Kindred Tradition!"  Willow decided to hazard an educated guess and bluff.  "The Clan won't stand for this."  She threatened darkly, giving him her most imposing glare.  <He's going to pay for messing with *my* consort!> 

"Not under normal circumstances," Mike agreed with a nod.  "But these aren't normal are they?"  He didn't give her time to answer his rhetorical question.  "We've summoned Guillaume to come judge Angel on charges of treason.  For selling our Family out to the Slayer."  Mike trailed off threateningly.  A vicious, victorious smile emerged at the sudden fear on Willow's face. 

<So Angel lives because they need someone to try and execute...  But...?!>  "Why did you try and kill Sean and not Angel?"  She demanded curtly, her tone as rude and as hostile as her eyes. 

"We only needed one of them."  Mike shrugged off her attitude, too full of himself to take her seriously.  He would enjoy breaking her later.  "And Sean would be much harder to imprison than Angel."  He flashed her with his strobe light smile, pouring on the charm.  "Now, I'm going to go get you a first aid kit and some blood, so that Angel doesn't accidentally turn you into a meal when he wakes up."  He turned, beginning to leave.  The two guards made to follow, closing and locking the cell door as he exited. 

"Why do you care what happens to me?"  Willow asked before he was gone.  His concern for her safety seemed out of place.  <After all, I'm not important anymore...> 

Mike turned back and looked her over with casual, arrogant possession, as if she were a prize bitch or mare being inspected for breeding. "You're going to be my wife," he informed her with a lascivious sneer.  Willow felt her jaw drop and her stomach heave at the thought.  Mike chuckled and taunted.  "Why so surprised, Willow?  Did you suppose that the Clan would allow you to be embraced at your tender age?" 

He shook his head slowly, tisking his tongue as if she'd answered the question.  "No.  Women are among the most valued and protected assets of the Clan.  If young women were brought across without being permitted to reproduce, the bloodline would be at an end within a few generations."  Mike paused, obviously expecting a response; Willow remained silent, too nauseated to speak.  <He's mad...> 

Mike resumed his ramblings after a moment.  "Mother says that our children will be among the most powerful telepaths our Blood has ever produced," he informed her egotistically, obviously quite proud of his gene pool.  "I may have to delay becoming Kindred for a few years, but it's a sacrifice that I'm willing to make.  For the good of the Clan, of course."  He shrugged philosophically again and ceased rambling.  Willow remained deathly quiet and still; it was the only way she managed to avoid spewing the contents of her stomach on his feet.  Apparently he took her meek silence as acceptance.  He smiled graciously.  "If you serve well, I'll bring you across myself when your best child bearing years are over." 

"I'll kill myself first."  Willow informed him flatly, meaning it.  <I'd rather be dead than endure his company, let alone his touch.  The Master had a better personality.> 

Mike stared at her, his face scrunching meanly.  "Mother will see to it that you don't have that option," he promised coldly and left.  The guards left with him.  Willow watched him go and then crawled over to Angel.  She kneeled beside his bunk, turned her face into his side, and cried quietly into his bloody shirt.  <Oh God, Angel...  Please wake up...> 

A short time passed, and then one of the "zombified" guards was calling softly to her.  Willow looked up startled; she hadn't heard him reenter the confinement area.  He was holding two wine bottles and a first aid kit, offering them to her through the bars.  Willow stood and numbly walked over to accept the supplies from him wordlessly.  Otherwise, she didn't acknowledge his presence.  He left, shuffling away like a soulless automaton. 

Carefully, she set the wine bottles down beside Angel's bunk; each was sealed with a plastic cap.  She opened the first aid kit and stared at its contents with dismal depression.  The bandages for minor cuts and injuries seemed useless in light of the extensive and serious nature of Angel's wounds.  <If he weren't a vampire, he'd already be dead...> 

Deciding to start with his head, Willow gently placed her hands on either side of his face, intending to turn it.  Angel woke up suddenly, cranky, hungry and suffering a massive headache.  "Grrrrr..."  He snarled at her warningly and sat up, scooting back on the bunk until he hit the wall.  Willow sighed with exasperation and made to reach for his face again.  <Excellent timing...> 

Some sentience returned to Angel's eyes.  "Don't touch me!"  he warned.  "I'm hungry and hurt," he practically growled at her.  He glowered at her defensively, obviously expecting her to go cower obediently in the far corner of the cell as any wise person would.  <Like I've ever had any common sense when it comes to him...!!> 

"Geez, Angel, do they teach baby vampires that growling solves everything?"  Willow demanded sarcastically, ignoring his advice.  Her hands came up to cradle either side of his face; she didn't notice that it wasn't his human one, as she gently urged him to turn his head.  He emitted another soft snarl and refused.  "Don't growl at me!"  Willow rebuked him, losing her temper.  She pulled his head forward and down harder than she'd intended and he moaned in pain. 

He leaned forward and buried his face pitifully against her chest, between her breasts, while she inspected the lump on the back of his skull.  Angel whimpered softly as her fingers found the injury.  To her relief, it seemed much smaller than it had on the ballroom floor and the bleeding had ceased.  "It's ok," she soothed, stroking his hair lovingly.  <Poor baby...>  Tentatively, she opened their link, wondering just how much pain he was in.  Immediately, she wished that she hadn't.  Willow cried out softly in sympathy at the pain wracking his body and his head.  <He's hurt badly...  He needs blood.> 

Willow leaned over the edge of the bunk and snatched up one of the wine bottles by the neck.  She removed the cap as Angel settled back into a sitting position on the bunk, with his back against the wall.  "Here," she offered, waving the bottle under his mouth.  He snatched it away from her and brought it closer to his nose.  As he sniffed it, his countenance twisted into a grimace of distaste.  "What's wrong?"  she demanded.  <Why isn't he trying it?!  Are they trying to poison him?!!!> 

"It's human..."  Angel supplied, still sniffing the bottle with reluctance.  "And fresh."  Willow felt her stomach turn over in sudden understanding.  <He thinks that maybe they killed someone to...> 

"Drink it."  Willow heard herself issue the command as if from a great distance.  "Beggars can't be choosers," she informed him flatly.  Angel grimaced again, but obeyed and took a swig.  He seemed to overcome his initial reluctance relatively quickly, however, and literally gulped the entire bottle down within seconds.  Willow leaned over and picked up the second bottle as he finished off the first.  <When exactly did I stop being squeamish and become so practical...?!> 

She uncapped the second bottle and handed it to him in exchange for the first.  They completed the transfer in silence and she set the empty bottle down on the ground carefully.  When she looked back up, Angel was still nursing the second bottle along more slowly.  "Does it taste different from vampire blood?"  She inquired with morbid curiosity, despite herself.  <This is probably one of those no-no questions...> 

To her surprise, Angel lowered the bottle thoughtfully.  He considered her and the question carefully, before replying.  "Fresher, but not as rich."  Angel took another swig.  "Vampire blood is an acquired taste," he added dryly.  "Vampires usually only share blood for power or during sex."  He chuckled despite his blinding headache.  "Feeding for sustenance from our own kind is generally considered a perversion." 

"You're my very favorite pervert!" Willow teased, gently touching her hand to his knee.  She smiled at him and he managed a weak smile in return.  It was good to see him recovering.  But still, she couldn't help wondering.  <Angel, how many more secrets do you have left...?  How many more layers are there to your twisted "truth"...?>  "Care to explain how it started?"  She queried, with just a touch of snideness. 

"Why did I stop killing humans?"  Angel asked, pressing a hand to his brow.  His head throbbed so painfully that she felt it clearly through the link.  "Or why did I choose to feed on vampires?"  Angel finished, meeting her eyes.  She could see his distrust and fear, but also his willingness to try and change.  This time he was wordlessly offering to open up to her, in an unprecedented display of trust and forthcomingness.  Willow blinked.  <Wow!  This is amazing...!  We're actually making progress!> 

She stared at him in wonder, then her expression softened with sympathy as she took in his obvious pain and weariness.  "Will you tell me later?  When you're not injured, after we get out of here?"  Willow suggested.  Angel gave her a silent nod of gratitude and set the now-empty wine bottle on the floor beside the first.  He met her eyes and the link flared to life.  <Thank-you.  It's a long, convoluted story.  And the truth keeps getting uglier.> 

She sighed softly and lay down on the bunk.  "Lie down, Angel," she coaxed, patting the bed next to her.  She took it as a indication of the true depths of his injuries when he complied without an argument.  He settled meekly onto the bunk beside her, pillowing his head on her breast.  Willow sighed and wrapped her arms around him, closing off the world and taking refuge in sleep.  Angel followed. 

She woke about two hours later to find Angel inspecting the cell.  He paced back and forth along the bars like a restless tiger.  His movements were lithe and graceful, eating up ground at a relentless pace, even though he couldn't go anywhere.  He looked much healthier; as his body was healing and his headache was gone.  He found the cell sound and finally came to a halt.  Apparently satisfied that escape was unfeasible for the moment, he turned to examining his wounds. 

He glanced up and noticed her watching him.  Angel smiled at her absently while attempting to remove his shirt; it was riddled with gaping tears in the fabric.  He mumbled under his breath too low for her to hear and used his right hand in an futile attempt to unbutton the shirt.  After a moment of awkward fumbling, he gave up and settled for viciously yanking and tearing it off.  The material gave with a loud rip and Angel casually discarded the remnants of his shirt.  As he tossed it,  Willow sighed wistfully.  <I've got a gorgeous man tearing his clothes off and I'm once again in a position where I can't take advantage of it!  With my luck, we're never going to make love!> 

Angel finished inspecting his chest injury and did his best to wash off the blood in the bathroom sink.  After he emerged from the bathroom, he briefly surveyed the bloody mattress upon which Willow still lay with distaste.  He settled down on the clean bunk across from her and beckoned to her.  At his wordless summons, she stood and joined him on the clean bed.  "What happened to Sean?"  he asked, immediately reaching for physical contact with her.  "Do you know what they," he nodded upwards with his head to indicate their captors.  "Intend to do with us?" 

"Sean got away,"  Willow supplied.  Angel nodded, looking relieved.  His hands roamed over her body with excruciating familiarity, intimately searching her for any trace of injury.  "Mike--the man who shot Sean in the back--said that Guillaume is coming and that they intend to turn you over to him for treason.  For helping Buffy."  Willow's voice was weak and her fear must have shown on her face.  <I should tell him, but what can he do...?> 

Angel tensed, perceiving more unsaid.  "What else?"  he asked, scanning her eyes.  He sensed something else was wrong beyond what she'd told him.  His fingers touched the gouge on her cheek left by Tanya's ring, playing lightly over her flesh. 

"Mike--"  Willow shuddered, choking on his name.  She looked down and Angel's hands came to her shoulders, as he drew closer to her.  They squeezed encouragingly, reassuring her of his presence.  "Intends to rape me."  Willow spat the last words out, nearly sick.  Angel tensed and nearly snarled.  He gathered her protectively into his arms and she buried her face against his shoulder, crying pitifully.  "He-he tal-ked about breeding m-e, as if I was some sort of an-animal."  Willow sobbed, finishing with a hiccup. 

Angel let her cry until her sobs subsided, holding her safe, letting her feel his presence.  After a moment his hand cupped her chin, drawing her eyes up to his.  "He's not going to touch you," he promised with fierce certainty.  The unspoken "ever" echoed between them and in his eyes she saw a man's death. 

Willow hesitated, believing him.  Deep down though, she wanted more.  "Angel, will you."  Willow trailed off, unable to voice the ugliness of her desire.  <How can I ask him to kill for me.?> 

"It's done," Angel replied, shushing her so that the words wouldn't need to sully her lips.   His fingertips passed lightly over her mouth and Willow pressed a grateful kiss to them.  She stared up at his mouth longingly, knowing that he wouldn't kiss her willingly while he tasted of blood. 

"How can he be so ugly inside?"  she asked.  "Kindred seem so. 'nice' compared to other vampires and he's a normal person, not a vampire." 

"Evil isn't exclusive to vampires.  And I do know this, evil is as much of a choice as it is a state of being."  Angel replied absently, obsessing over her cut.  He retrieved the first aid kit from the floor and proceeded to clean it.  He met her eyes and she sensed his protectively possessive thoughts quite clearly, as he tenderly tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.  <I don't like my lady being assaulted and threatened.> 

Willow smiled and blushed  She liked being his "lady".  It seemed hopelessly sweet and old-fashioned; ridiculously romantic even, but she liked it.  "That's true..." Willow agreed softly.  "There are plenty of evil people. It's not just all vampires."  She hesitated, before venturing further.  "But are you sure that Kindred aren't different at all...?" 

Angel stopped examining the cut as her question sank in.  He met her eyes steadily and his mouth twisted unhappily.  "I was afraid of this--"  He cupped her face, his tone vehemently emphasizing his next words.  "Willow, Kindred are just as evil as any other vampire clan.  They're simply better at pretenses and maintaining appearances.  Deep down though, they're basically evil.  I should know; I've lived among both Kindred and the Others."  His implied message was clear, concise and simple.  Willow nodded with understanding, trusting his judgment.  <All vampires are evil; don't trust any of them.  Except Angel.  And maybe Sean.> 

"What about Sean?"  Willow inquired, unable to disregard her gut instinct about Angel's baby brother.  "He seemed sweet."  Angel glowered at her, jealous.  "...once you got past his lofty, pompous airs," she amended hastily.  Willow only spoke up on Sean's behalf for Angel's benefit.  <After all, Sean *is* his brother and it seems so unfair that he has to hate his brother.  Especially since Sean is "reformed".> 

Angel signed.  "Sean's always been extremely genteel, almost human, even for a Kindred."  His tone and eyes narrowed again as sibling rivalry reared its ugly head.  "He's a genius with Magick and a bookworm.  As a result, he's lead a very sheltered existence.  Others tend to protect him and he's been lucky enough to retain some vestiges of his humanity." 

Willow nodded, patting his arm soothingly.  <Hmm, I'd be willing to bet that Angel used to spend a lot of time "protecting" Sean too.>  She smiled at him reassuringly and batted her eyes, gazing at him with way too obvious hero-worship for him to miss it.  <Just so that he doesn't think that I think more highly of Sean than of him.  Male egos are, after all, very fragile.> 

Angel's look told her quite clearly he knew she was humoring him by pandering to his ego.  But he didn't object.  He returned her look with clear admiration and a smile that bordered on deviltry.  With secure, smug masculine ease he leaned forward to inspect her visually with sexual interest.  He extended a tormenting finger to trace the line of her throat up and down.  His fangs flashing briefly with amusement as her nipples hardened, visible through the silk of her dress, and her breath and heart beat increased in response. 

Willow sighed with frustration as his lips curved into a knowing, teasing smile.  He knew quite well what she wanted and why she sighed.  <God!  He's so smug!>  "Is something wrong with me?" she asked him, turning slightly red.  "I mean, I can't seem to stop thinking. about."  Willow trailed off mumbling.  <I thought only boys obsessed over sex.!!!> 

Angel chuckled softly.  "Nope.  Perfectly typical of a horny virgin."  He flashed her a somewhat predatorial grin and patted the bunk mattress beside him.  "If you'd like to come here, I'll try and make it better," he offered with a sexy purr and a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. 

"Angel!"  Willow squealed his name.  She reprimanded him with a sharp look and then proceeded to scoot across the bunk to him anyway.  She sent a self-conscious glance toward the door, completely forgetting that a few hours before she'd practically attacked him on a very public couch upstairs.  Angel chuckled again and gently urged her to recline on her back while he turned onto his left side.  He lay along the side of the bunk and she against the wall, his body discreetly shielding hers from the door. 

Willow practically quivered as he perused her with a lazy, thorough sensualness that reminded her of a hungry man sitting down to a feast.  Self-consciously her hand sought his bare chest and she tried to close the distance between them.  "Relax," Angel told her, pressing her back against the mattress again.  His right hand touched her cheek, traveling lightly over her lips and then down the side of her throat.  Willow closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing as his fingers brushed lightly against her breast through the silk of her dress. 

Her nipples hardened, becoming visible through the fine material.  His palm teased them gently, rubbing back and forth, until her breath came in a pant and she arched up into his hand.  When his hand left her breasts to press against the firm flatness of her stomach, Willow opened her eyes curiously, shifting slightly.  Nervous and excited, she met his eyes, wondering what he intended.  They were dark with dangerous desires and across the link she could feel that he was loving her display of submissive trust. 

As his hand began to descend along her thigh, Willow nearly started with a nervous rush of virginal fear.  She held still, hating to disappoint him, but trembling under his touch.  Gently, his fingers pinched the hem of her skirt and pulled upwards, trailing it along her legs until her knees were revealed.  Then he cast it aside with a slight flick of his fingers and touched his fingertips to the inside of her knee.  Willow clenched her thighs together, trapping his hand between her knees as her will to remain still broke.  Her breath came in shudders. 

Angel watched his pinned hand for a moment and then turned his face towards hers.  She watched his mouth, fascinated, and caught a hint of fang showing beneath his upper lip.  His mouth paused millimeters from her own.  "You invited me in," he reminded her, his voice smoky and dark.  His fingers squeezed her knee in a gentle reminder.  Willow gasped, opening her mouth and her thighs at his beckoning gaze.  He expanded the link running between them so he could discreetly eavesdrop on her emotions and sensations. 

His hand continued its tender ascent as her thighs parted.  His lips lightly brushed hers in thanks and then retreated again so that he could watch her responses.  Willow whimpered; his fingertips found the smooth satin of her already soaking panties and proceeded to thrum her lightly and quickly, as if he were testing a guitar.  He chuckled as she tried to hide her face in his shoulder and slid a finger under the rim of her panties, dragging the material aside.  His fingers played with her exquisitely sensitive flesh until her every sense reeled and nothing made any sense beyond his hand and her body. 

Willow squealed and moaned, muffling her own anguished cries against his shoulder.  She cried out his name, begged and pleaded for relief.  He absorbed her responses with fascination and then modulated his caresses to bring her even higher, manipulating her body to drive her to ecstasy.   She began to scream and his mouth smothered hers, absorbing the sound.  When he finally thrust his fingers home she climaxed and then tried to escape from the unbearable pleasure.  He followed and pressed her down, continuing to inflict torturously incredible sensations despite her desperate struggles.  Angel teased her through multiple climaxes until she shuddered and collapsed against him exhausted. 

Willow gradually became aware of his still hand between her thighs, her own labored breathing, and the feel of his lips against her forehead.  She sighed, content, but aware that he wasn't.  <But we'll fix that as soon as we get to some place more appropriate than a prison cell...!>  She looked up into his eyes, they were only half-open.  He met her gaze with a lazy, hypnotic stare that made her want to curl up and go to sleep.  She yawned, realizing that it was probably somewhere close to dawn.  <My biorhythms are starting to change.> 

"You're cruel," Willow muttered, remembering his heartless teasing.  Unexpectedly, hurt flashed briefly in his dark eyes.  He withdrew emotionally into his shell, closing up visibly before her eyes.  His hand withdrew from its resting place.  Willow bit her lip.  <Drat!> 

"So I've been told," Angel replied dully.  He looked ready to roll off the bunk.  Willow sighed and touched his arm, grabbing hold.  <How did he get to be so damn sensitive.?!> 

"Thank-you," she said firmly, stopping him.  "It was beautiful." 

Angel hesitated, searching her eyes and then accepted the compliment at face value.  Like an emotional porcupine, slowly his defensive quills smoothed and he returned gratefully to her side.  Willow sighed and curled against him, starting to drift into sleep, taking comfort in his strangely reassuring uncertainty.  <It's as if he's as new at "making love" versus "having sex" as I am!> 

She fell asleep in his arms again. 

Willow awoke with the uncanny feeling of being watched.  Her eyes popped open and she caught Angel in the act, staring at her with a fixed, unblinking gaze that made her feel weird.  His eyes held the dawning light of realization, a maddened enlightenment, and oddly, an almost fanatical determination.  With preternatural certainty, Willow knew that he'd decided on a course of action and intended to follow through with it. no matter what.  She stared at him and he stared at her, leaving her even more unnerved.  "What?!"  she finally demanded. "Just spit it out!" 

"I've been a fool," Angel supplied mildly.  "Missing what's right under my nose, overlooking the obvious and letting myself simply be swept along as events unfolded instead of taking control."  He reminded her of the self-possessed stranger he'd been to her at the start of the week.  "Not any more," he informed her.  She sensed his vampire closer to the surface than she'd ever seen it before and it frightened her silly.  <It's like he's losing control... or letting go...> 

"Angel, you're scaring me," she whispered, instinctively edging away from him. 

"I'm sorry," he apologized instantly, his mood shifting like quicksilver.  His gaze became repentant and regretful, bringing back the Angel she knew and loved.  The dark stranger retreated, distanced but not gone.  "You're the last person in this world I'd ever harm, Willow."  She started to reach for him but his next soft words stopped her cold.  "It's quite likely though, that when this is over, you're going to despise me." 

Abruptly, the confinement area door burst open and Sean rushed through.