Friendship

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

"...so that more or less sums up what's been happening to us since I was kidnapped Friday afternoon."  Willow paused, listening to the long, considerate silence coming from the other end of the cordless phone. She sighed, hoping that this wouldn't be too much for Giles to absorb.  He'd been a good listener, thoughtfully remaining quiet even through the absolutely worst parts of her story.  <If anyone will be fair to Angel, it's Giles...> 

Her gaze absently settled upon the object of her affection, the annoyingly responsible individual who'd finally guilt-tripped her into at least calling Giles to explain that they were safe and what had happened to them.  Slowly, she began to walk over to where Angel leaned lazily against the far wall of the living room with his arms folded casually in front of him.  "Giles...?" Willow inquired with concern as the silence continued to drag.  It was just after midnight and she'd no doubt awakened Giles from a sound sleep with this phone call.  <Maybe he's having trouble taking this all in...  He might be thinking that he's having a bad dream or something...> 

"Ahh, yes," Giles responded abruptly, suddenly breaking free of his reverie.  "So let me see if I have this right.  You were kidnapped by Angel's brother, Sean, who looks just like him.  The Laval are actually called Kindred and they possess souls and want to close the Hellmouths.  Angel is an assassin who's supposed to kill you, but he's had a change of heart and decided to protect you instead.  The two of you have fallen in love and Angel is going to die if you can't find some way to break the spell binding the two of you together.  Meanwhile, Guillaume, a powerful vampire elder, still believes that Angel is going to kill you upon the appointed night--tomorrow--because Angel lied to him..."  Giles trailed off.  His litany, as ridiculous as it sounded, was delivered in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone.  He paused, thinking. 

"Right, and don't forget about our telepathic link," Willow reminded him, knowing that he must be thinking her nuts at the moment for still trusting Angel.  Angel's expression was grim as she extended a slender hand to appreciatively stroke her lover's bare chest with a single inquisitive finger.  He wore only pants again and she his bathrobe.  Carefully, she extended her mind towards him, probing the surface of his thoughts the way one sticks a cautious, inquisitive toe into a spa instead of plunging right in.  His mood was foreboding and mildly self-recriminatory, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. She smiled, pleased that they'd made some progress there.  <He spends way too much time beating up on himself...> 

"Willow, even given your new found abilities, are you quite certain that you're safe there with him?"  Giles inquired gently, but persistently. "Is it possible that he's simply manipulating you? Waiting for the right time to kill you?"  His tone was reasonable, not accusatory; asking her to logically look at the facts.  It had not escaped his notice that there were almost nine hours unaccounted for in her story, from after the time she'd been nabbed to the time she'd awoken upon Angel's couch.  "You're hardly an experienced or trained telepath, and the changes affecting you as you transition to immortality must be extremely debilitating," he pointed out.  Giles trusted Angel, within reason.  This however, somewhat exceeded the bounds of reason.  Angel tensed, unable to help overhearing Giles' words at this close proximity.  <I wouldn't hurt you.  Ever.>  The thought was both defensive and defiant, rife with multiple layers of meaning. 

"I'm safe, Giles,"  Willow reassured him, subconsciously using the same calm, authoritative tone that she'd observed Angel, Sean, and Guillaume using with subordinates.   Angel smiled faintly, enjoying watching her so naturally assume the mantle of leadership as she began to accept her birthright.  She was descended from a long line of philosophers,warriors, artisans and aristocrats.  Her hand pressed flat against his chest, over his heart. She sent a soft wave of soothing, supportive love and trust his way.  <I trust you, love.  There's no need to sound so defensive.  It's a perfectly reasonable question for Giles to ask, given the circumstance.> 

Into the phone she said, "If you want to help us, then could you please check the library and see if there's anything there about breaking this sort of binding?"   She thought it improbable that the library held any answers that Angel or Sean hadn't already considered and discarded, but it didn't hurt to check.  <Maybe the two of them overlooked something obvious...  It's not likely, but maybe...>  "Angel and I will be back tomorrow night after sunset," she added as an afterthought. 

A long silence ensued.  Giles didn't miss the implications; she didn't plan on returning any time soon.  This simply would not do; the risk she intended to take on Angel was unacceptable.  His tone became respectful as befitting the Immortal Watcher, however, Giles did not overlook his duty to guide her.  "Willow, you MUST return immediately."  The command was imperative.  "The transformation wasn't supposed to begin for almost another two years.  That's why I hadn't yet told you of your destiny.  I thought that I still had a reasonable amount of time to prepare you."  His next words were grave, underlining their importance.  "However, the transformation has begun early for some reason and we should try and find out why.  I can guide you through the various stages.  I can tell you what to expect and what you'll need to know." 

Willow paused, considering.  When Giles had first admitted to having known of her destiny and deliberately having kept her in the dark "for her own protection", she'd considered being angry with him for the briefest instance.  However, she'd quickly discarded the notion of starting an argument or of accusing him in favor of practicality; she simply didn't have the energy or time to waste on immature tantrums.  Her new found maturity and insight were hard won.  <Lately, it seems as if everyone I know and trust has some sort of secret to keep.  Buffy, my mother, Giles, Angel...  The only person who's probably not hiding anything is Xander.   I guess maybe this part of growing up...> 

"Advise me now, on the phone," Willow suggested politely.  "Or we can talk tomorrow night, after the sun sets," she offered as an alternative.  Her tone left no other avenues of compromise.  <Our twenty-four hours will be up tomorrow at 6:00pm...  Six hours are already gone, I'm not giving up the next eighteen for any reason...>  The silence coming from Giles was illuminating.  She could practically hear him measuring her resolve; balancing the wisdom of beginning an argument against the risk of angering her.  "We could really use your help in the library," she reiterated, gently pleading with him for assistance. 

Willow waited patiently while Giles silently debated.  He detected an underlying steel in her tone that had never been present before and was just beginning to comprehend just how thoroughly the ordeals she'd faced had changed her.  Her determination and strength were a palpable force; the little girl's uncertainty and lack of confidence were things long past.  "Very well," he agreed without consciously arriving at the decision to do so.  "I'll see what I can find out.  Maybe I have a tome about bindings which could be of service."  With an almost surrealistic enlightenment he began to understand that he no longer spoke to simply a child, but to his rightful elder.  In a very short period of time, Willow would assume leadership of the Watcher Council and organization. 

"Thank-you," she replied, making every effort to convey her full and sincere gratitude.  She wrapped one of her arms around Angel and leaned against him, subconsciously drawing strength from his rock steady presence.  Even when she began to tire and things seemed their bleakest, he never failed her.  Angel took her into his arms, offering her the support she needed.  The link sprang open, as sensitive as a clockwork hinge to the slightest mood shift.  His mind's voice held reassuring support.  <If anyone can help us, it's Giles...> 

"Willow," Giles began reasonably, not having completely given up upon talking her into being reasonable.  "I realize that you want to be alone right now."  His voice softened with compassion.  Because of his dealings with Buffy, he understood only too well how heavily the burden of unwanted destiny weighed upon the shoulders of a young girl.  "It's only natural given the nature of the changes which you're experiencing..."  He trailed off, composing his thoughts. 

"I know what I need and I understand what's happening to me, Giles," she responded with calm, preternatural certainty.  Her fingers curled slightly as she dug appreciatively into the hard muscles of Angel's back and then slid lower to his buttocks.  His lips, level with her forehead, curled in response, his dark eyes lighting with sensual amusement. She elaborated, for Giles' benefit, knowing he couldn't accept her conviction on blind faith.  "My telepathic sensitivity is increasing rapidly and I'm starting to lose some of my control over my shields."  She swallowed, once again faced with the threat of losing her sanity, in addition to everything else.  "Hopefully, this will stabilize soon or I'll learn to compensate for it," she added, trying to sound optimistic.  <I have in the past...> 

Giles hummed an encouraging acknowledgment, indicating for her to continue.  She paused, hardening herself to say what she did next.  This last and most recent change hurt worse than even the threat of Angel's impending death, because it was already very real.  Even now she could feel her cells, organs, and metabolism changing.  Emotionally, she was still numb with shock.  <Just say it!!  Giles needs to know what this is costing me to understand just how committed I am to my choices...> 

"On top of that, my body is changing.  Cell decay is ceasing and I've stopped aging," she blurted out.  "And I've been rendered infertile," she added with a ragged sob.  Angel blanched, his lips parting slightly in horrified shock.  He hadn't realized her loss or the depth of her awareness of the changes taking place within her body. His grip on her tightened painfully and a wave of sickened sympathy passed from him to her.  He understood all too well what the loss of fertility meant.  Giles reacted also, drawing a sharp breath, even though he'd likely suspected that this was coming.  He floundered uselessly, unable to think of anything appropriate to say.  Words of comfort couldn't begin to soothe her grief over her loss.  Willow understood, but her own emotions were numb, locked under a frozen layer of ice. 

"I don't think that I could stand to be around people right now, even if I wanted to," she told Giles softly.  "I need to be alone right now," Willow pleaded, begging for sympathy and support instead of scolding.  Her hand absently patted Angel's behind and she returned reassurance and gratitude for his sympathy through the link.  She did not consider Angel's presence to be a contradiction to her stated desire.  <He's part of me now...  Almost an extension of my "self"...> 

"And you don't want to be with anyone but Angel," Giles stated flatly, with uncharacteristic bluntness.  "Because he's going to die."  It was a statement of fact, not a question.  He managed to speak the harsh truth with a forthrightness that made Willow wince.  Unshed tears welled up in her eyes, causing her to blink desperately.  So far, she'd been unable to bring herself to call Angel's death inevitable; to accept it with the grim fatalism that both Angel and Giles seemed capable of.  Seeking to comfort, Angel's hand strayed to the side of her face, his fingers lightly playing over her delicate skin.  As it touched, she turned her head and pressed a light kiss to the center of his palm.  <I can't give up on you so easily...> 

"Tell Buffy and Xander that we want to be alone," Willow spoke softly, but with hardened resolve.  "If we're disturbed, then I'll take Angel and leave."  There was no threat in her words, merely promise.  She'd forsaken even her family for this time alone with him and no one was going to stand in her way.  "And I'm not giving up on him yet," she added.  "We still have options, things we can try.  I might be strong enough to break the link soon."  Angel shifted, his interest suddenly piqued.  They hadn't discussed this yet; she hadn't even told him that she'd been considering it.  <I've been too afraid of failure to discuss it with him...  Too afraid that I might not be strong enough...> 

"Very well," Giles gave in, despite his obvious disapproval.  He thought this an unwise course of action, however he conceded to Willow's wishes despite his better judgment.  She'd left him with little choice.  Giles absently fell into lecture mode as his thoughts raced, his mental fingers flying through the card catalogue of his encyclopedia-like mind.  "Over the next day you should expect even more changes.  Some will be physical, some emotional, and some mental.  The experience is supposedly unique to each Immortal Watcher and I only have Merrick's account of the transformation to advise you by.  I'll bring my copies of his journals to the library tomorrow and go through them.  I should know enough by sunset to tell you more." 

"Good," Willow replied, happy that he'd finally given in.  More of her attention focused upon Angel than Giles.  Absently, she recorded Giles' babbling to be analyzed later; he spoke primarily of fevers and physically and emotionally debilitating changes.  <Things I already know...>  She began to feel better as she watched hope return to Angel's eyes.  He'd been so resolutely enthusiastic and determined to die for her that he'd forgotten about hope.  Her determination to fight was infectious, as was her faith that they could still win this somehow.  She saw her fire kindling a like determination within him and she found it uplifting.  <He said it...  If we get through this, it will be because we're together...> 

"You should be aware that the Phoenix will appear to you on the third night and some sacrifice will be required of you to prove your worth," Giles added, quite seriously. His ominous tone recaptured her attention.  "If you fail the test, immortality will be withdrawn and a Dark Millennium will befall the world.  A time when the Slayer shall be without guidance and mankind will suffer greatly at the hands of the forces of darkness." 

"I won't fail," Willow replied irritably, fighting to keep the sarcasm from her tone.  She succeeded, but only with a great deal of effort.  Angel sent her a wave of amusement and agreement, understanding all too well how she felt.  Willow silently grumped at him.  <It's not like I ASKED for the 'privilege' of being the Immortal Watcher!!  How DARE this Phoenix presume to test my worth as well?!!> 

Perceptive Giles, didn't miss the carefully conceal sarcasm, despite her best efforts.  He sighed wearily and changed the subject.  "What about this Guillaume?" he asked, addressing the wild card in the equation.  Guillaume was still very much an unknown variable; predicting his actions would not be easy. 

"Hold on a sec," Willow replied.  She pushed the already partially open link wider.  <What happened with Guillaume after I passed out?  And when is he coming to Sunnydale?  And does he know that I'm the Chosen?>  Willow dumped the set of complex questions upon Angel like a bucket of ice water and craned her neck uncomfortably in order to peer up at him.  His quick mind slid instantly into an analytical, almost predatory mode as he analyzed the situation. 

Angel's reply, as always, was balanced, measured, and careful.  He settled his hands upon her shoulders.  <Guillaume is staying with Sean until tomorrow night.>  His jaw and countenance tightened.  <That's when your power is supposed to peak and it would be the optimal time to kill you.  He told me that he'd arrive in Sunnydale tomorrow night around midnight.>  He wasn't pleased with the prospect of seeing his grandfather again, especially given the circumstance.  <I don't know whether he suspects you or not.>  His entire demeanor tensed and his hold on her tightened out of fear for her safety and fear of losing her.  <If he does, I'm hoping that he thinks that I'm just trying to protect my 'kill' by keeping you close to me and lying to conceal your identity.> 

Willow exhaled with more than a small degree of exasperation.  <You and your deceptions!!  Are all Kindred such skilled liars...?!>  Willow reached up and placed her hand on his wrist while the other still clutched the phone.  She reassuringly stroked her hand up and down his forearm, trying to soothe some of the tension away.  Her stomach turned slightly at his reference to his propensity for lying.  <The worst part is, if it weren't for the link, I'd probably believe you capable of snuggling up to me in order to kill me.> 

<I know.  I'm sorry.>  Angel's dark eyes were sad as he watched the play of emotions across her expressive face; he didn't need to read her mind to know what she was thinking.  His slumbering self-condemnation awakened abruptly and Willow instantly regretted having sounded so condemnatory.  She tried to abort the mild accusation she'd been feeling before he perceived it, however, it was already too late; the damage was done. He snorted somewhat derisively, at both himself and his clan.  <All Kindred lie and manipulate, to one degree or another.  It's part of being a "civilized" vampire...> 

Their link snapped closed as emotions became heated and too intense for comfort.  Willow sighed, inwardly berating herself for hurting him so.  She swallowed, not needing to ask if he'd once been capable of such cruel treachery; she knew him far well.  But she also knew who he was now and her faith in his inherent goodness, of his nobility and honor were unwavering.  "Do you have a plan for dealing with Guillaume?"  Willow asked gently, changing the subject. 

"Would you buy that I was planning on hiding behind Buffy?"  Angel queried with forced humor.  He understood what she was trying to do and attempted to assist her.  The attempt was weak, but it helped.  Willow snorted to demonstrate her open skepticism.  She knew him too damn well to EVER believe that.  <Not likely!> 

"You?"  Her voice held enriched skepticism and she arched a disbelieving eyebrow for effect.  "Hide behind a woman's skirts?!"  Her acting was so convincing that Angel began to relax and unwind, throwing himself into their banter with real enthusiasm.  His entire manner became teasing and an absolutely  incorrigible grin curved his lips. 

"You're right." he conceded.  "Buffy's skirts are a little too skimpy for that."  He paused again thoughtfully, pretending to consider, his thoughts turning to things skirts didn't cover.  He sent an appraising glance downwards, to Willow's own thighs, admiring the exposed flesh of her knees and calves peeking out from underneath the bathrobe.  Unfortunately, his bathrobe fell rather far on her, modestly covering most of her long legs.  More flesh was visible through the robe's parted "V", however, so his semi-lecherous gaze strayed upwards.  Willow whapped him hard as she felt her own body beginning to respond to his seducing gaze.  <Get a grip, Girl!  Pay attention!!  Giles...!!> 

"Angel..." she warned, growling softly at him with a meaningful glare. "Attend to the business at hand," she commanded, holding up the phone for emphasis.  She waved it under his nose like a baton, trying to recapture his straying attention.  "Are you sure that Guillaume will come to Sunnydale when he said he would and not sooner?"  she demanded.  "And do you have a plan or not?"  <It hasn't escaped my notice that with all the subterfuge Sean and Angel engage in, Guillaume is probably capable of spinning a yarn or two of his own.> 

"No plan," Angel replied apologetically.  "Hopefully, Buffy and I can take him."  His mouth twisted into an unhappy grimace.  "If she can trust, after what almost happened, " he muttered darkly, not bothering to elaborate.  He didn't need to; she knew.  Willow stared at him with silent sympathy, understanding all too well what he meant.  She'd experienced his memories of the terrible misunderstanding which had led to he and Buffy almost killing each other.  By some miracle, both had survived through self-control and courage, but at a high cost.  <They've lost trust.  They're both afraid.  And Angel hates himself for almost killing Buffy...  And poor Buffy thinks he's blaming her while he's really blaming himself...> 

It was a touchy subject.  Angel refused to discuss it, changing the subject the few times she'd broached it.  Even now, he moved on swiftly, not wanting to dig deeper into the week old wound.  "Sean promised to call me right after Guillaume's helicopter leaves.  He has my phone number and both of Giles'."  Angel smiled wryly.  "For all his power, Guillaume is still subject to the same space/time limitations as the rest of us."  Angel snorted softly.  "He can't move faster than sound.  It should probably take at least two hours for his helicopter to make the trip from Monterey..."  He trailed off thoughtfully, thinking about Sean.  Strange circumstance indeed, that had not only brought him back into contact with his brother, but left him relying upon Sean for assistance. 

Sean's word was good enough for Willow.  She brought the phone back up to her ear.  "Giles...?  Are you still there?" she queried into the speaker.  Giles hummed faintly in sleepy acknowledgment.  "Angel's brother is going to call and warn us when Guillaume leaves Monterey.  That should give us two hours of advance warning."  She paused, shivering fearfully.  <Not that any amount of warning will necessarily be enough, if he's as tough as Sean and Angel say he is...> 

"I'll inform Xander and Buffy as to what is going on in the morning," Giles agreed, sounding mildly inane to his own ears.  He'd just agreed to trust not one vampire, but two, with the Chosen's life.  "I'd appreciate it if you would check back with me upon a regular basis," he added, perhaps contemplating seeing the school psychologist on Monday morning.  "And I'll call you if I discover anything important," he added, to cover his bases. 

"Fine.  I'll check in with you tomorrow morning around eleven," Willow promised readily, grateful that he wasn't resisting her more on this.  Eager to let him go back to bed, she said good-bye and returned her attention to Angel, who was still going the rounds with himself and his better judgment over his decision to trust Sean. 

<I wish that I'd had a chance to say thank you and good-bye to Sean.>  Willow sighed, reflecting upon all of the opportunities she'd lost out on already and those that still might be lost.  <Angel.>  Sadly, she rested her chin against his breast bone, tilting her head straight back, in order to stare up at him.  His chiseled lips were less than six inches from her mouth.  Willow could still hear his surface thoughts; their intimacy had become so personal.  They rarely bothered to conceal emotions from one another anymore, and as their familiarity increased, each became easier for the other to read. 

"Sean knows, doesn't he.?  About me being the Chosen?" she asked, hazarding a guess based upon what she was picking up.  Angel felt unsettled by the threat his brother presented to his simple, overzealous hatred of all vampires.  Sean's assistance, love and loyalty had upset his relatively uncomplicated paradigm that all vampires equaled bad.  Willow waited patiently, figuring it was time for him to do some growing.  <Lord knows MY perception of vampires has changed dramatically!!  His should too...!!!> 

Angel grunted acknowledgment.  "He guessed in the car on the drive back to Sunnydale.  I got you away from Guillaume as quickly as I could without arousing suspicion, but I couldn't hide how quickly you were healing from Sean."  The silence following his explanation was awkward.  Angel rushed to justify his decision to trust his brother.  "He gave me his word that he wouldn't tell anyone."  He sounded mildly defensive about trusting Sean, as if he needed to explain his actions.  "Sean cares for you, Willow," he finished softly. "He asked me to tell you that if you ever need help, that you can come to him." 

<After he's gone...>  Willow swallowed against her dry throat, her heart aching at his unspoken words and their meaning.  Sean had offered to protect Willow after Angel died.  <It's old fashioned but honorable...>  She could see that Angel was ill-at-ease with the entire situation.  He despised being so out of control and dependent upon another, especially a vampire.  Still, Sean was his brother whom he loved, and despite everything, even reason, trusted not only with his own secrets but with Willow's.  Abruptly, her mood shifted; she was starting to feel depressed again and she'd promised herself not to spend her time with Angel wallowing in angst.  Determinedly, she kicked the depression aside.  <Carpe Diem!> 

"Stop fretting,"  Willow commanded, standing on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his arrogant mouth.  "Sean's got better control over the dark side of his nature than you do," she chided.  Angel frowned as sibling rivalry kicked in, not liking the comparison.  Resenting it, in fact.  He'd been working at it for much longer than Sean.  "Don't forget that I was in his mind during the fight with Tanya," she reminded him deliberately, suppressing a wicked little smirk.  She just couldn't pass on an opportunity for some gentle teasing.  His hold on her tightened briefly, drawing her closer to him.  She shivered, luxuriating in the feel of their bodies pressing together.  <Maybe if I'm lucky, I can goad him into taking revenge...> 

"You're asking for it," Angel warned darkly, taking the phone from her and returning it to its cradle.  As he turned back to her, advancing ominously upon her, she began to retreat towards the bedroom.  As expected, he followed.  His movements were lithe and sensual; his dark eyes held the unspoken promise of hours of exquisite torment for her impudence. 

"I know I am,"  Willow replied with sassy brazenness, and an impertinent grin.  With an excited squeal, she turned and ran, Angel hot on her heels. 

Willow snuggled closer to Angel and sighed contentedly. Reflexively, he tightened his hold upon her, drawing her closer.  He lay upon his back, she on her side, tucked against him, feeling safe and snug.  Cat, refusing to surrender her rightful place at her master's side, lay possessively atop Angel's chest, curled up into a furry gray hoop and purring like a small engine. Willow absently extended a hand to pet the feline.  <I wonder if she's jealous...?  I mean, here I am butting into her bed and her life...> 

Cat didn't seem jealous, in fact the volume of her purring increased under Willow's stroking hand.  From the cat's mind, Willow sensed happy contentment and utter adoration.  Indeed, she felt no resentment towards the latest addition to her family, so long as Willow understood that Cat was the dominant female.  Willow snickered and Angel glanced over curiously.  <I'm being put in my place by a cat...!!> 

He smiled with smug amusement and chose not to comment.  Like a male lion, he refused to partake in the power struggle for alpha female within his own pride.  Willow closed her eyes and yawned, beginning to feel tired.  She wanted nothing more than to succumb to sleep, but she was also loathe to give in and lose out upon some of their very precious and limited time together.  Her body and mind were weary; Angel had expended a great deal of energy upon some very creative ways of wearing her out.  He'd almost seemed to view it as a challenge and she'd been compliantly eager and enthusiastic about allowing him to do so. 

As she lay still, her mind wandered, as minds inevitably do in the moments before sleep.  Utmost in her thoughts were prophecies, the Phoenix, and sacrifices.  "Angel, do you have a copy of the Prophecy?" Willow wondered aloud.  "I was thinking that since most of them tend to be pretty vague, maybe there's some sort of clue or hidden meaning that could help us..." she trailed off, watching his face. 

"I can do better than a copy," Angel replied evenly.  Her eyebrows lifted and he shrugged.  "I have it memorized."  As a frown sprung up on her brow, he muttered defensively, "Well, it is a relatively central part of my life."  She continued to scowl and he became more defensive. "And I have had over a hundred years to memorize it."  Willow exhaled in exasperation and made a heroic effort to refrain from swatting him.  She failed. 

"I can't believe that you've known and haven't told me!" She exclaimed, while he scurried to cover himself from her blows, using a pillow as a shield.  Cat sprang away, her august and dignified personage disturbed by the unseemly scuffle.  She carried her elegant tail behind her like a banner, exclaiming "Well, I never!" to the heavens.  Willow huffed.  <Men!  They can be so dense!!  And I thought that it was just Xander!!!>  "Well?!" she demanded, calling a cease fire and halting her own attack.  Angel never fired off a shot or knew what hit him.  Willow waited impatiently while Angel came out of hiding from behind his pillow. 

Taking in her impatient expression, he thought for a moment, dredging his memory and then began to recite:  "As the Second Millennium ends, Merrick's time passes.  As the Second Millennium ends, Cycle renews.  As the Second Millennium ends, Mortal Child is Chosen.  As the Second Millennium ends, Phoenix burns bright--" 

"Wait!" Willow interrupted.  "HOW exactly did Merrick die?  Wasn't HE supposed to BE immortal?  That doesn't make sense."  As well as she understood the nonsensical vagueness of Prophecies, Willow still couldn't resist asking. <I've never understood WHY prophecies HAVE to be vague!!  What's wrong with say, a perfectly clear and concise prophecy, just for a change?!>  Angel's expression was vaguely annoyed; he hadn't written the Prophecy, only recited it.  <Hmm, grumpy Angel...> 

"Merrick reincarnated into each life with all of his memories of past lives intact," Angel supplied.  He looked and sounded fatigued, reminding Willow of her own weariness.  "I don't know his exact motivations, but he was world weary after having lived a thousand lifetimes.  He probably chose not to be reborn after Lothos killed him the last time," he speculated.  "But that's only a guess," he reiterated.  "In my entire life, I only spoke to him once."   Her eyes widened curiously, but Angel shook his head no.  "Whole 'nother story," he said, denying her curiosity till another time. 

"Could the 'Phoenix burns bright' be your tattoo?" she asked with a frown, mentally dissecting the wording.  His unwillingness to share his Merrick story vaguely annoyed her.  <Grr!  Yet another thing to add to my long 'Stuff to ask Angel' list!  And could the Phoenix be something so simple?  Giles insisted that it would come to me tomorrow night though...> 

"Possibly," Angel's reply was crisp and clipped, indicating he'd considered and discarded such speculation.  "Now do you want to hear the rest or not?"  he demanded impatiently.  Willow held up her hands in a 'Please, Continue' gesture. <Seesh!  Are we touchy or what?!  Must be lack of sleep...  I think that we're both starting to feel it...> 

Angel refrained from speaking for a moment while he composed his thoughts again.  Willow sighed.  <The price I pay for interrupting him...  The man never just blurts out anything impulsively...!!>  He finally found his voice again and cleared his throat to regain her straying attention.  Willow turned huge, vacuously attentive eyes back on him, making him the center of her universe while taking a private lampoon at the empty-headed, bird-brained girls of the 18th Century who'd no doubt heaped this kind of attention upon him, thus spoiling him for all eternity. 

Angel caught her expression and the intent and meaning behind it. Despite himself, he chuckled and smiled, spontaneously leaning forward to press a quick, apologetic kiss to her lips.  "I could shave with your wit," he complimented with quick humor.  Willow frowned, while smiling herself in return. <Strange, I've never *seen* Angel shave...>  She eyeballed his smooth, clean-shaven jaw, which never seemed to sprout even a shadow of facial hair.  <I wonder how he shaves with no reflection...?!> 

"Continue, M'Lord," she implored with gentle exasperation, willing to forgive any transgression so long as he looked upon her with such obvious admiration.  <Yes, flattery will get him everywhere...!!> 

"Three days and nights pass, Mortal Child transforms," Angel's voice modulated with an hypnotic resonance, catching her undivided attention.  He caught her eyes with a strangely compelling, almost mesmerizing gaze and suddenly it seemed as if no longer simply Angel spoke to her.  Instead, other extraordinary and almost heavenly voices resonated in a chorus through her head.  "No stronger soul shall ever be known: forged in pain.  Born of Light and Dark.  Choose Child, your sacrifice wisely.  Love dearly, forgive kindly.  Upon the third night, the Phoenix shall come to you.  In Heaven's glory, before a Host of Angels, shall Immortal Life be yours.  If Child, you sacrifice wisely." 

Angel stopped speaking, his head tilting slightly as he regarded her curiously.  Inside her head however, the Voices continued to resonate, echoing through her mind and soul.  "Willow?"  Angel pleaded gently, looking more spooked by the moment.  She didn't know what he saw in her face and her eyes, but it began to scare him badly.  His hands caught her shoulders, his mind forcing open the link.  <Seabhaicín?  Are you well?> 

Willow blinked, shaking her head and fighting her way free from the hypnotic daze.  Hurriedly, she shoved the strange impressions aside, reaching for Angel's steady presence to be her anchor.  <I'm ok...  I just feel kinda weird.  It was as if MORE than just your voice was speaking...>  She began shivering, suddenly freezing and he drew her closer to him.  Abruptly, his body temperature began to burn, radiating an almost feverish heat.  <Angel, I'm scared.> 

<I know, Willow.  So am I.>  His mind's whisper was warm, gentle, and unobtrusive.  She took comfort from his warmth, drawing closer to her guardian.  Even his admission of shared fear provided comfort.  Alone, her strength faltered.  Together, they would persevere.  Urging her closer, he wove his own spell over her tired mind and she succumbed to sleep, his promise echoing as she drifted off.  <Sleep safe, I'll watch over you.> 

Willow lay still, desperately trying to sleep despite the fact that Angel was driving her nuts.  She was hyperaware of his busy thoughts humming in the background of the bedroom like a static filled radio station.  He refused to sleep more than a minimal amount needed to maintain his sanity--for him that seemed to amount to "catnaps" that seldom last more than an hour.  On top of the constant 'chatter' going on in his head, the neon red glow coming off of his tattoo like a billboard on a sleazy strip drive was also disturbing her.  It glowed like a 100 watt bulb in the dark bedroom; a lurid red light that seriously annoyed her.  She turned over restlessly, irritably quelling the impulse to tell him to put his tattoo out OR ELSE. 

It was approaching the earliest hours of the morning, the hours just before dawn when the sky began to lighten and the night's myriad creatures began to seek refuge.  Angel persisted in guarding over her as she slept, almost as if he feared she might be snatched away from him if he closed his eyes for too long or she might dematerialize upon waking and become nothing more than a dream.  His attachment and dedication were endearing.  <And that's annoying too!!!  I'm getting so sensitive as the change progresses that I can barely tune out my awareness of his thoughts anymore.  And Geez!!!  Who would have thought such a quiet person would have such a noisy mind!!> 

Indeed, in his head, Angel never seemed to shut up.  Feeling like a grumpy bear being kept from hibernation, Willow "tuned" in on him, surreptitiously eavesdropping upon his private thoughts.  He was silently compiling a huge list of her varied and remarkable virtues and expressing ironic appreciation that the events which had brought them together were the same ones which made their relationship both possible and impossible.  He was content dying if it was the price required of him for the time they'd spent together; it had been worth it.  He also found her spirited determination infectious and was determined not go down without putting up one hell of a fight. 

Willow felt her cheeks warm up and her irritation begin to fade.  <It's hard to stay mad at someone who holds nothing but reverence, respect and love for you...>  Feeling guilty, she began to open her eyes and withdraw stealthily, when he followed through with a silent lament about the complexity of modern relationships and expressed silent longing for a simpler time when their marriage would have been a given.  Not that she'd have him, or that he deserved her.  As it was, given the circumstance, he figured that Willow would have no interest in marrying a vampire, even one who wasn't due to die sometime in the next twenty-four hours. 

"Marriage!"  Willow exclaimed, her eyes popping open in shock as she sat up.  <HeeHee!!  Angel wants to marry me.!!!>  She positively bounced with delight, causing the waterbed to roll riotously.  "Yes!!" she burst out, in answer to his unspoken proposal of marriage.  Too late, she realized exactly what her impulsive reaction revealed.  Her hand flew to her mouth, slapping it closed.  Her eyes flew to his, her cheeks warming.  He met her gaze levelly, with wry understanding and an almost mocking amusement.  Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment and her eyes dropped to his chest.  "I'm sorry."  she mumbled, trailing off.  "I shouldn't have been." 

"Snooping?"  Angel finished, teasing her unmercifully.  He began to grin and his hand reached out to cup her chin, drawing her eyes up to his.  "Spying even.?"  She met his gaze guiltily, wishing that she could slink off and hide.  His eyes were kind and loving and held the beginnings of hope.  "Did you say yes?"  he asked carefully, his lips nearly grazing hers.  The moment became one of tender loving as her eyelashes fluttered bashfully and their lips loved.  <I owe him an answer.> 

"Did you propose.?"  she hedged carefully, pussyfooting. 

"Marry me, Willow," he responded promptly, leaving nothing in doubt.  "I can't promise you forever or perfection or even tomorrow.  But I love you and if we both somehow make it through this alive, please become my wife."  His courage and willingness to leave himself vulnerable to her were remarkable, especially since she knew exactly how much risking rejection cost him.  For the first time it occurred to her what immortality could mean.  <We could be together forever...  Or at least for a really long time...> 

Willow opened her mouth, the word yes perched upon the tip of her tongue.  Her mind, however, once again got in the way of the perfectly romantic moment.  She saw the fear and uncertainty appear in Angel's eyes as her response dragged out and she rushed to fill the gap, pouring out her doubts and reservations.  "What about Buffy?  What about Xander?  How much of our relationship is based upon that damn spell and how much is real.?" 

Inwardly, Willow was still reeling in shock, having been completely caught off-balance by this conversation.  <He's so old-fashioned...!!  I suppose that I should have been expecting a marriage proposal, especially after the last time...!!  But I wasn't!!>  Resisting the impulse to abandon all reason and simply say yes, she tried to focus upon what he was saying.  <And isn't...!!  There's no way that he can ever explain away how perfect we are for each other, no matter what the reasons...> 

He carefully considered before addressing her first questions.  "It's true, we've both been burned." he conceded.  "And it takes feelings like that a while to fade, and for the heart to heal.  And you're too young to be making a decision like this."  He trailed off, almost ready to give up trying to convince her in face of all the reasons against it.  Still, he couldn't bring himself to give up completely.  "If you're not ready, that's fine.  We'd have forever and you'd be worth waiting for." 

Unwilling to dwell too long on forever, he moved on.  He didn't want to spend too much time on something that would likely be denied them; she would be the one to suffer, not him.  Instead he permitted himself to indulge in her fantasy of one perfect day of shared love.  And to him, shared love meant marriage.  "As to the spell, that's a factor and it's impossible to discount its influence.  But I cared for you and was attracted to you before all this began."  He hesitated, unable to find words deep enough to express his emotions.  Deliberately, he reached for her through the link, drinking in the purity of their friendship, the stark and painful rawness of their love for one another.  Angel's thought reached her, a blinding truth.  <I'm not afraid of death, Willow.  And every moment with you has been worth it.> 

A tear escaped from her eyes, drawing slowly down her cheek.  <Don't say that!  You're not going to die!  I won't let you!>  Hushing her tenderly, Angel pulled her small, vulnerable form protectively into this arms.  Their naked bodies pressed together with an intimacy and familiarity that neither questioned nor noticed.  Clucking softly, his mind and body wrapped themselves around hers, providing shelter, refuge and support. 

Still needing an answer to his proposal, Angel drew back enough to meet her eyes.  He couldn't let this rest without resolution, one way or the other.  He hesitated, his gaze utterly vulnerable, as he searched her eyes.  "I know that I'm not Xander but--" 

"There's no comparison," Willow interrupted.  Her words, blunt and harsh, cut him deeper than any previous rejection ever had before.  He misunderstood in spite of the link and allowed his deepest fears and insecurities to mar even the most perfect form of communication.  Angel blanched, not having expected this level of cruelty from her, not ever.  If she'd tried to stake him, it could not have hurt worse.  The link snapped closed.  Willow winced, watching him begin to withdraw, silently berating himself for having walked into that.  <Damn!!  He misunderstood!!> 

"You don't understand!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and dragging his mouth down to hers.  She dragged his resisting mouth into a kiss and tried to express what she'd really meant through the link.  <I loved Xander for years the way a girl loves a boy and he never once noticed or appreciated me.  I love you the way a woman loves a man.  You're my best friend, my lover, my confidant and my protector.> 

Somewhere along the way Angel stopped pulling away from the kiss, instead returning her embrace and her kiss.  He held onto her with the desperation and the loneliness of one who'd been alone and unloved for far too long.  Willow continued to bridge the gap, trying to heal the damage and injury done to his emotions by all of those years, by the burden of guilt and the weight of responsibility.  <My husband.> Impulsively, she cast aside all reason and logic and went with her feelings, grasping what her heart desired.  <Yes!!>