Friendship

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

Willow blinked, annoyed and astonished with Sean's bad timing.  <This is ridiculous!  Angel and I can't have a conversation without being interrupted!  And what on earth could make him think that I could ever despise him...?!> 

"Guillaume is here," Sean blurted, slamming the confinement area door closed behind him. "His helicopter just landed and we barely have two hours until dawn for you to escape in."  Angel's brother looked like a refugee from a Terminator movie set, one of the victims.  His fine clothing was dark with dried blood and hung on his lean frame by threads, so extensive were the rips and tears.  He was still obviously injured quite badly, not having had an opportunity to rest and feed as Angel had.  In his hand dangled a ring of keys and he moved quickly to open their cell door. 

Angel rolled swiftly off the bunk and to his feet, landing with firm cat-like grace.  Willow barely had time to blink before he was gone.  She was left, floundering mentally and physically, still trying to absorb the possible meaning of Sean's last spoken words.  <This is BAD!!  VERY!!  Angel and I need to get out of here fast!> 

"I've been playing cat and mouse with the guards for the last several hours or I would have gotten down here sooner," Sean apologized hurriedly, rushing the words together.  "As it was, I was only able to get past them while they were distracted with the helicopter's arrival," he explained.  He pushed the door open as Angel reached it..  "I have an escape tunnel that leads out through the basement.  We can--"  He stopped, fear crossing his face as Angel reached for him with deadly speed.  Expecting an attack, he tried to backpedal.  Angel pounced, latching onto his prey and pulling his brother into a powerful hug. 

Willow resumed breathing and sat up.  She sighed.  "I was worried sick about you,"  Angel said softly, releasing Sean from his grasp.  "That shot was wooden, wasn't it?"  He surveyed his brother with a critical eye.  "How did you survive?" 

"Sorry, trade secret," Sean replied glibly, with a self-satisfied smile.  For a brief moment, he forgot the urgency of the situation.  "A good magician never reveals his secrets," he added, head still swelling with pride.  Willow sighed again with exasperation for the insufferable male ego.  <You'd think that we weren't in trouble...  Although it is nice that Angel cares for Sean and Sean values Angel's opinion...> 

Sean's eyes abruptly became more serious.  "I was only protected against one attack though.  If he'd shot me in the heart again, I would have died."  He stared at Angel with sincere regret and gratitude and then glanced past him to Willow.  "Thank-you for trying to protect me.  Upstairs, I was so upset over Peter's death that I didn't detect Tanya's telepathic activity until it was too late.  I'm sorry that I accused you..."  Sean trailed off awkwardly, not looking at Angel.  His tone was dusky and awkward, as if thanks, apologies, and humility were all quite foreign to him. 

"You're welcome."  Willow smiled, accepting his apology and thanks for both of them.  She mentally removed him from her list of acquaintances and added him to list of friends.  Still, despite the warm fuzzies flying through the room, something tugged at the edge of her mind....  "Guillaume!"  Willow spoke up loudly, practically shouting the name as a reminder.  "We need to get out of here!"  She asserted more quietly, moving over to stand near Angel and Sean. 

"This--"  Sean began speaking, indicating with a gesture for them to follow him. 

Angel interrupted.  "I'm not going," he stated flatly.  Disbelieving, Willow and Sean turned to gawk at him.  "Take Willow to safety and protect her for me," he instructed Sean.  Before Willow's eyes, his vampire began to resurface again, taking charge.  His manner became that of a formidable, commanding stranger; not someone she'd approach, even in a crowded room.  Willow drew in on herself defensively.  <Oh, no!  Not again!  What is he up to now...?!> 

"What are you saying?"  Sean demanded, staring at his brother, aghast.  "Guillaume WILL destroy you for treason."  He ground the words out at Angel, nearly snarling.  Willow silently echoed his sentiment.  She would have reached out to Angel over their link but she sensed him erecting a strong shield against her.  Her lower lip trembled at being closed out so thoroughly and ruthlessly.  She'd grown accustomed to his constant, subtle presence at the edge of her awareness over the last day; his sudden and deliberate absence hurt.  <Angel, please...> 

She reached out and touched his arm.  Angel glanced down at her, his eyes hard and glacial as they peered into her pleading ones.  "Sean, take Willow and go," he commanded again, his tone and words clipped..  "I need to deal with Guillaume once and for all."  His expression did not soften at all as he met her gaze, and his armed stiffened under  her touch.  Physically, he was freezing her out with uncompassionate coldness.  Willow let go of his arm in response to the unspoken command.  Too proud to beg, she drew herself up defiantly and glared up at him.  <I don't understand what's going on, but if he thinks that I'm going to take this from him he's sadly mistaken!!!> 

"We're not leaving without you!"  Sean did snarl this time.  His fists clenched and his tone rose in tandem with his temper.  Willow bobbed her head in anger, echoing his sentiments again.  <We can double team Angel, if need be...>  Sean stepped forward, defiantly and foolishly entering Angel's personal space.  "Guillaume will--" 

"GUILLAUME--"  Angel barked brusquely, shoving Sean back.  "Can't do a damn thing to me.  *I'm* his assassin, *I* have the tattoo, and without *me* there won't be an opportunity to close the Hellmouths again for a very long time."  His tone was soft, intent, and deadly as he advanced upon his retreating brother.  "Guillaume can't touch me,"  Angel finished with supreme arrogance. 

Laughter, rich, flowing laughter echoed through the room.  "Angelus, you haven't changed at all!"  His voice was cultured and elegant; his words held a richness of meaning derived from experience.  The trio spun to greet the new arrival with astonished glances.  The sight which met Willow's gaze snatched away her breath and all thoughts of reason.  He was no more than thirty, a tad short of five ten, lean and unspeakably beautiful with pale blue eyes and baby fine bleached blond hair that cascaded in a curtain half-way down his back.  He wore leather breeches, knee-high boots and an old-fashioned white lace front shirt.  He looked like a rock star.  Willow swallowed, trying to control her reaction.  <Omigod!  He's gorgeous!!> 

Angel recovered his speech facilities first.  "I beg to differ, Grandfather.  I've changed a great deal."  He contradicted his elder in only the politest of tones.  Gone from his manner were all traces of the rebellion and belligerence present only moment before.  Willow glanced briefly at Angel, taking in this latest metamorphosis of his mood with a degree of levity.  <Hmmph!  It's rather amusing watching big bad "Angelus" be put in his place!  He said 'Grandfather'.so this must be Guillaume...  Lord Oh Lord!!  I hope Buffy never has to fight him!!  She'll be too busy drooling to remember her stake!!>> 

Guillaume snorted with disbelief and derision; that Angel dared dispute his opinion only proved his point.  Thoughtfully, he took in the trio, the disheveled brothers and the young woman with flame colored hair. His gaze paused thoughtfully on each one, taking in Angel's self-possession, Sean's guilty scowl and Willow's admiring stare. His sharp eyes noted Angel's glowing red tattoo with approval and a pleased nod.  "I see that the time is finally here..." he observed softly, to no one in particular. 

"So, what have you boys gotten into this time?"  He inquired with a sigh, his considering gaze coming to rest on Willow.  Angel instinctively stepped in front of her with possessive reflexes, his posture a territorial challenge.  More than mildly peeved with Angel, Willow promptly scuttled out from behind him in order to keep Guillaume in plain sight.  Amusement lit up Guillaume's eyes. 

"Who's the young lady?"  Guillaume inquired with piqued interest.  He glanced to Angel for an introduction. 

"This is Willow,"  Angel supplied resentfully.  "*MY* consort."  He glared.  Guillaume chuckled, laughing at his grandchild's posturing and stepped forward to accept Willow's already proffered hand.  With genteel manners and civilized grace, he bent to kiss her slender hand.  Willow beamed as his lips brushed her flesh like a soft caress.  "Willow, allow me to present Guillaume."  Angel completed the introduction reluctantly. 

"Pleasure to meet you, my dear."  He straightened, and his pale blue eyes met hers.  Willow felt her heart stop.  These were the eyes of a predator, cold, calculating, and cruel.  <Like a snake or a wolf.>  Suddenly she was no longer so enamored of his appearance as frightened senseless by his proximity.  "You look just like your Grandmother Jenna did when she was your age."  His face and voice briefly held a tinge of sadness.  He still had not let go of her hand; she felt like a rabbit with her paw caught in the cruel jaws of a steel trap.  <Now I understand why Angel was trying to keep me away from him.!!> 

Distraught and off-balance, Willow blurted, "Somehow I thought you'd be taller."  She promptly blushed, cringing with embarrassment.  <Big Mouth strikes again!!  Oh, God!  How could I have said that?!  He must think me a fool!!> 

Guillaume's mouth quirked.  "That's exactly what Jenna said to me fifty years ago when we first met," he observed.  He still held her hand.  Angel shifted restlessly, with ill-concealed possessiveness.  He moved closer, hovering at her shoulder protectively.  Willow knew he wanted to remove her hand from Guillaume's grasp more than anything, but he restrained himself. 

"Were you and Grandmother Jenna in love?"  she asked boldly.  She widened her eyes, being deliberately daft and playing the innocent simpleton to the hilt.  Over her head, Angel and Sean exchanged  an exasperated glance. 

"Yes, very deeply," Guillaume responded softly.  His smile was bittersweet with memories her question invoked.  His eyes, however, evaluated her with sharp interest.  "Jenna was my wife." 

"Weren't we being accused of treason?"  Angel reminded him, trying to interrupt their conversation.  Sean glared at his brother, plainly displeased with his efforts.  He'd just as soon have allowed Willow to charm his Grandfather, as bring *this* particular subject up.  Willow glanced over at him also; Angel deliberately held a hand up to her in a wordless summons that demanded, 'Come here.'  She hesitated to obey, feeling rebellious and prickly because of Angel's recent behavior.  Still. <Angel must have a reason for the way he's been acting.  I may get him into a lot of trouble if I continue to resist whatever he's trying to accomplish.  And he doesn't give me orders very often.> 

Remembering all of the time he'd obeyed her instantly and without question, Willow went to him and took his proffered hand.  "Yes, my lord."  She uttered graciously, softly mimicking the way an 18th Century lady might have responded to his somewhat overbearing manner.  She was pleased that she managed to completely conceal the sarcasm present in her feelings from her voice and face. 

Angel accepted her hand and drew her in closer to him, folding her reassuringly close against his body.  He sighed with something close to relief.  Willow was too busy observing Angel's responses to notice Sean's astonishment at her display of obedience or the approving nod Guillaume gave Angel.  Even in this modern era, courtly manners, courtesy and obedience carried much weight with the oldest and most traditional members of the Clan. 

Willow turned her attention back to Guillaume once she was satisfied that Angel would behave.  "May I call you Grandfather also, please?"  Willow offered him her sweetest, most charming smile.  <Honey works better than vinegar.!> 

Guillaume looked quite flummoxed for a moment.  "Very well," he agreed with a chuckle.  "I suppose it is appropriate." 

<If you can't beat them, join them.>  Willow smiled at her grandfather gratefully, and gave up all attempts to penetrate Angel's shield or understand his behavior.  Instead she threw all of her strength and her discipline into reinforcing the mental shield he'd erected.  He glanced at her, startled, and then gratefully accepted her help, permitting her to rearrange their mental barriers so that their strength combined, more effectively protecting them both.  <I suppose since I can't hear his thought or emotions anymore, I'm going to have to do this the hard way and try to guess based upon his words and body language.  I'd never realized how awkward and inefficient spoken communication was before now.> 

Guillaume observed them intently.  "I see that your ability has finally activated," he said softly, smiling at Willow.  "I'll see to it that your mother is notified so that she can arrange a tutor for you."  He turned back to Angel and Sean, changing the subject.  "Sean, your wife is upstairs accusing the two of you of treason."  He casually threw the challenge out.  "You're not doing a very good job of managing your household," he observed mildly, before Sean could respond to the challenge. 

Stunned beyond thought, Willow stood motionless.  <My mother.?!  Did he say MY MOTHER?!  As in, MY MOTHER is "in the know".?!!!!> 

Sean gritted his teeth in irritation and swallowed his pride.  "Yes," he agreed, even though every word galled him and stuck in his throat.  "I've been having some problems." 

Guillaume chuckled.  "Sean, you always were a master of understatement."  His expression became serious and his gaze shifted cynically between the two brothers.  Sean still looked frightened and Angel relaxed.  He settled for intimidating Sean with a stare.  "So why don't you tell me about Angel and the Slayer.?"  He inquired, his voice a silky threat.  Willow's head cocked and her brow scrunched up in thought.  <Why would mom.  Assuming she knows!!  .keep a secret like this from me.?!!!> 

Guillaume's penetrating eyes pushed Sean's loyalty to Angel and nerve to the brink.  He stared silently back and stepped off the precipice, refusing to break or betray, refusing to speak.  Angel tightened his grip on Willow's hand.  For the briefest instance, their link opened; she sensed a cold, calculating creature on the other side, unlike anything she'd sensed from him before.  And oddly, raw pain, as if he were tormented and sickened by something.  <Please trust me Willow... No matter how ugly this gets.> 

Before she could reply, he was closing the link, protecting her from exposure to his evil.  "Guillaume, cut the crap," Angel interrupted.  "You're not going to accomplish anything useful by torturing Sean, other than watching him suffer."  Guillaume's aggravated gaze turned to Angel, followed by Sean's astonished one.  "Guillaume knows all about my dealings with the Slayer," Angel supplied mildly.  "He sanctioned them." 

"WHAT?!"  Sean hollered, aghast.  Willow's head swiveled towards him, after a measurable pause in which her brain hit a glitch and refused to interpret his words.  <Did he just say.?!!!> 

"That's where I've been for the last eighty years,"  Angel confessed casually.  "Guarding and guiding the Slayer."  Sean continued to stare at his brother, slowly concluding that Angel was loco.  Willow stared at him with trepidation, unwilling to chalk this up to insanity.  She knew him too well.  <He's telling the truth.  Which means.> 

"Angelus is part of a pilot program."  Guillaume grinned, looking enormously pleased with himself.  "The Slayer's 'unseen, unheard' Guardian."  In contradiction to his words, his manner quite clearly informed Angel that he was well aware of his very active dealings with Buffy.  "It's an experiment, we've been conducting.  To see if it's possible to direct the Slayer's slaying activities towards our enemies and away from our Blood." 

Willow turned an accusing glare on Angel; he returned her gaze with unfathomable dark eyes.  She wanted to slap him and his lips compressed in acknowledgment.  She valiantly resisted an impulse to utter a rancorous denunciation and pull away from his touch.  Valiantly, she fought for control of her temper and tried to be reasonable.  <Well... he did say the truth would get uglier... but to think he premeditated everything.!> 

Sean glared angrily at his brother, looking ready to throttle him.  "So, I was right?" he demanded sarcastically.  "This was all part of one of your schemes."  It was a statement of fact, not a question.  He spoke with the wisdom of one who'd witnessed numerous "schemes" before. 

"It's a grand scheme too," Guillaume complimented, apparently willing to play diplomat between the two.  His tone subtly informed Sean that anger was uncalled for and inappropriate since Angel's "scheme" was officially sanctioned.  "I've rarely seen it's like in six hundred years," he complimented.  His ice blue eyes slithered to Willow, betraying his more than casual interest in her responses.  Willow blinked back tears, stoically and proudly bearing up under the pain and refusing to let it show. 

"When Angel proposed it over a hundred years ago, I was skeptical about its feasibility at first, but it's been remarkably successful."  Guillaume paused for effect and to survey his audience before continuing.  "Many of our enemies and far fewer Kindred have perished at the Slayer's hands in the last eighty years than in the centuries before.  If we successfully seal the Hellmouths, I intend to bring the full weight of the Clan to bear in protecting the Slayer and assisting her in eliminating the remainder of our enemies." 

"It sounds like something that may backfire on us,"  Sean commented, as his world and all that he knew upended and slowly began to reorder itself.  "What if we can't control our 'pawn' and she turns on us?  It sounds almost like playing with fire..." 

Guillaume shrugged philosophically.  "Certainly we can manage one little girl?  And even if she does eventually come after us, she would have done that anyway..."  He trailed off thoughtfully, seriously considering Sean's point before responding.  "No.  The key to controlling the Slayer is through the Watcher organization.  Our people are poised to eliminate their entire order once the Immortal Watcher is gone." 

<Giles...  Would Angel participate in his death too...?>  Her heart began to fracture and crack, splintering, rather than cleanly splitting in half.  Willow felt her heart breaking, plunging her into an abyss of bitter despair and a slow boiling rage.  <HOW DARE HE?!!  He promised that he'd never hurt me but he's done far worse!  I'd rather he killed me than this...> 

"As Angelus pointed out, it is indeed pointless to fight the Slayer when we basically have such common goals."  Guillaume continued casually, apparently oblivious to Willow's despondency and anger.  Angel, however, was not.  He felt her begin to tremble with equal parts pain and fury in his arms.  She wanted to keen like a wolf.  "And there is a degree of wastefulness in killing her, because the moment one dies..." 

"The next is called,"  Willow finished for him, her voice faint.  Angel's arms squeezed her slightly, an involuntary response to her pain.  Otherwise, he did not react or offer comfort.  Her mind latched onto the small sign of caring, giving her a silly, ridiculous thread of hope to cling to.  Hope brightened her irrepressibly buoyant and foolishly optimistic heart.  <Maybe he's faking...  To get us out of trouble...> 

"Precisely,"  Guillaume nodded his approval.  "And the whole process starts over, only the fighting skill and experience of the previous Slayer is lost forever."  He paused, noticing that Sean still looked ill-at-ease with entire idea of helping the Slayer.  "Don't worry, Sean, it takes a while to absorb the sheer scope and ramifications of the plan."  He barked with laughter.  "It took me long enough..  However, once I did, the ingenuity and logic of his reasoning appealed to me a great deal." 

Willow finally found her voice.  "There's more to it, isn't there?"  As she spoke she tilted her head accusingly, so that her lips softly grazed the tender underside of Angel's chin.  To an observer, the gesture seemed affectionate; mentally, she was ripping his throat out.  Her anger had no other form of expression and had not dissipated, despite her attempts to make excuses for him.  Angel swallowed, his flesh moving beneath her lips, and his grip tightened on her arms.  He turned his face down towards hers and their gazes caught and tightened like a taunt fishing line. 

"I gave up killing humans and crafted a 'human' facade in order to eventually gain the trust of Slayer and her Watcher."  As he spoke, he brought his face closer to hers, like a fox extended its hopeful muzzle into the mouse's den.  Their eyes never parted and her head mirrored his movements with hypnotized fascination.  Desperately, she searched his eyes for signs of his humanity.  To her intense disappointment, she did not find any.  Foolishly, she decided to keep believing in him with blind faith anyway.  <I'll just hang on to our love and ignore everything he says...> 

Angel continued, damning himself with his words.  "I helped out a few times, saved Buffy's life, and gradually gained their trust.  It puts me in the perfect position to kill the Chosen."  That last severely tested Willow's self-control, hitting upon her deepest and most secret fears.  <He loves me!  I KNOW he does!  I've FELT it!> 

She hesitated, asking herself the hard questions.  <But what does that *really* mean...?  And who says that evil can't love...?>  Angel saw her doubt.  His face hardened perceivably and for an instance he looked within moments of the Change.  His fangs punishingly slashed open his lower lip.  With fascination, Willow watched ruby drops of blood well up.  He licked them away with his tongue, slowly regaining control.  Her mind and emotions froze in place, like small fish in a vast lake of ice.  "As things stand now, Giles would probably ask me to help protect him."  Angel hesitated, glancing at Sean with dark irony.  "If we were there, that is." 

Guillaume eyes were alight with intense interest.  "So, you know who *he* is?" he inquired with sharp attentiveness. 

"Of course," Angel replied with off-handed arrogance.  He looked up into the expectant silence.  "The Chosen is my kill, not yours," he stated flatly.  His chin assumed a stubborn tilt as distrust and sheer defiance set his handsome features into a stone-like mask.  Willow felt their collective mental shields tighten as Guillaume scanned him deeply.  Part of her was tempted to abandon him and withdraw her protection; another part deeply resented the intrusion into her territory.  <Angel may be deceitful and treacherous, or this may be an act, but he's MINE, any way you look at it...> 

Willow bit her lip and looked up at Guillaume with a sharp stare.  He reached, pushing at their shields again in a bold and abrasive attempt to penetrate their privacy.  Willow instantly and instinctively took a renewed dislike to him and reinforced their shield with a sheer strength and ability born of desperation.  Angel and his truths had shaken, but not broken, her spirit and her will.  Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the telepathic scan ceased and Willow nearly collapsed.  Angel caught and supported her before she went down.  She clung to him weakly, lacking the strength necessary to support herself.  Lacking the strength necessary to feel. 

"Ah, Angelus, distrustful aren't we?"  Guillaume asked casually.  His gaze settled on Willow, thoughtfully reassessing the slip of a girl with new respect.  Apparently, she was far more powerful than he'd anticipated.  His scan had not penetrated, thanks to her.  He nodded knowingly to himself, suddenly comprehending her place in the scheme of things and her importance to Angelus.  "Do you think that I'd steal your kill?"  He queried with plaintive injury, pressing a hand to his heart as if mortally wounded. 

"And pass on an opportunity to close the Hellmouths forever?"  Angel asked dryly.  He was beyond rage, somewhere into a realm of frozen emotion.  He drew Willow closer, his chin touching the top of her head.  "Of course not."  His clipped tone implied that Guillaume could not possibly be so petty. 

Having heard more than enough, Sean uttered with bitter disgust, "I shouldn't have bothered wasting my time contacting you!"  He sounded weary and hurt.  Unthinkingly, Sean carelessly exposed and drew attention to Angel's unexplained presence here in Monterey, away from the Hellmouth and his duty at a time when his presence there was imperative.  Guillaume's sharp mind noted the discrepancy and instantly picked up on the opening. 

"Why exactly did you contact Angel, Sean?"  Guillaume's question was deceptively soft.  "I've been quite careful in making certain that no mention of the Slayer or Angelus made it into any of your reports."  Sean froze, realizing too late his blunder.  Willow frantically tried to think of some way to cover for him.  Her mind drew a blank.  <Damn!! I'm no good with lies...!!> 

Angel stepped neatly into the gap, twisting the truth to his advantage.  "Sean offered to help me hunt the Chosen."  He chuckled, sounding vastly amused.  He put exactly the right twist on his words to imply he thought Sean ridiculous.  "As if I can't kill a boy by myself," he scoffed.  His ploy worked perfectly, drawing Guillaume's attention squarely back onto himself while covering for his brother.  Only Willow caught the brief flash of relief in Sean's eyes.  Before she could blink, he was adopting an arrogance reminiscent of Angel's.  She abruptly arrived at the conclusion that she came from the greatest family of thespians who'd never grace a stage.  <We'd put Shakespeare to shame!!> 

"You'd better be able to kill the boy," Guillaume warned, with a threat in his stare and venom in his voice.  A cruel smile twisted his lips.  "Failure means death," he reminded Angel viciously.  Willow felt hatred thawing her frozen heart.  <He's the bastard who saddled Angel with that cursed tattoo in the first place...> 

"I know quite well what failure means," Angel replied evenly, unfazed.  His voice lacked fear, anger, or really, any emotion at all.  "I understood the consequences of my actions long before I disobeyed you." Angel's lips curled into a mocking smile, defying Guillaume with impudent insolence.  They both spoke of something long past.  Willow noted this "disobedience" again with interest.  <It's not the first time Angel's mentioned it.  I need to ask him later exactly what happened.  For one thing, it's the reason he's being punished with death if he fails.> 

"Sean, you should learn from your brother's errors," Guillaume instructed letting his gaze drift to an easier target.  He found Angel's lack of fearful respect annoying, to say the least.  "Crossing me is always a mistake."  Sean did not respond, managing to keep his expression clear.  Willow frowned, staring up at Angel again with concern.  The only thing keeping her heart intact was the distant, desperate hope that all this was contrived.  Still, the more she heard, the more she doubted her own heart.  <It MUST be an act!  I KNOW him and he couldn't do this!  At least, I don't think he could.  Could he?!> 

"Oh, and Angel?"  Guillaume's question was casual.  Angel glanced up, his eyes flashing like daggers.  "I plan on attending your kill in two nights," he smiled benignly.  "Just in case something goes wrong, of course."  His smile widened with anticipation.  "You might run into problems with that Slayer."  He cocked an eyebrow, pretending to think.  "Buffy.?" 

"Fine."  Angel's reply was distant and unconcerned, as if Guillaume party crashing concerned him not at all.  "Now that this is settled, if you'll excuse me, I have a score to settle upstairs."  He gathered up Willow with a look, obviously lusting after an opportunity to tear Tanya and Mike to shreds.  She nodded consent, suddenly balanced on the brink of eager anticipation.  With this, he turned and began to leave, Willow racing to stay on his heels.  <Time to get even.> 

Guillaume and Sean exchanged a knowing glance.  "Shall we join him?"  Guillaume inquired a viciously combative light entering his eyes.  "Angelus is always quite entertaining when he's in a vengeful mood." 

Sean hesitated, not certain that Willow would appreciate the violence about to befall those upstairs.  "I'm not sure that Willow--"  Sean glanced reluctantly at Willow as she began to push past. 

"I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Willow interrupted, cutting off his assumption of her supposed fragile sensibilities and feminine squeamishness on her way by.  She hurried to catch up with Angel and fell into a jog at his heels.  Sean and Guillaume exchanged another glance and wordlessly fell into step behind her.  Feeling vengeful and vicious, she was eagerly looking forward to the coming carnage with an almost vampiric bloodlust.