Friendship

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

Angel blanched, reacting instinctively and violently to the idea of turning Willow into a vampire.  He involuntarily changed, as revulsion and horror set in .  "NO!!" he shouted, denying her.  His emotions punched her in the gut as an assortment of horrible, deeply buried memories resurrected themselves from the grave in his mind.  She experienced his death and rebirth, including fragments of the soul rape he'd endured when the demon first violated his being.  Finally, came the utter destruction of his humanity as the demon plundered and purged the last tiny remnant of his essence.  Willow gagged, nearly throwing up.  She couldn't breath past her choke mechanism.  <Angel!  Please...!!!> 

Her panicked gagging restored sanity to him like a hard slap.  Angel abruptly cut the torrential glut of nauseating, abhorrent memories off, closing down the link as if it were a flood gate.  "No," he hissed, his arms tightening around her both in a threatening and zealously overprotective manner.  "Not Ever," he finally denied more calmly, as his impulse to hurt someone passed.  His anger was not directed at her, and never had been.  Willow cast her head to the side as her gag reflex subsided, and dragged clean, sweet air into her starved lungs.  Her body tried to follow the limp drop of her head, but his arms caught and sustained her.  <Ok, breathe!!  Oh, God!  That hurt!!  How can he endure that...?!> 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, burying his hands and face in her hair.  Angel clutched her close, regretfully murmuring soft, nonsensical sounds meant to soothe.  Finally, he became more coherent as Willow began to calm down.  "I didn't mean to hurt you," he vowed, his voice choked with emotion.  "You caught me off-guard."  His hands rubbed down her back until he assured himself her breath came unimpaired.  Willow kept clinging to him, still reeling emotionally from shock.  Finally, he drew back enough to meet her eyes.  "I couldn't do that to anyone," he pleaded, begging her not to ask it of him.  He would stake himself if she required it of him, but he couldn't embrace her.  It violated every principle he possessed.  "Especially not you." 

Willow raised her hands to his face reassuringly, trying to soothe away the panic still lurking there.  "It's ok," she murmured, as if speaking to a wild animal.  She shushed him and his face reverted back to human under her stroking fingertips.  "You're right.  It's not an option.  But I needed to know."  Vaguely annoyed by an distracting explosion on the tv set, she unconsciously turned it off with her mind.  Wholly focused upon Angel, she reopened the link and reconnected their minds.  <Don't worry.  I saw everything that I needed to see in your memories just now...>  She approached him hesitantly with her next inquiry, still regarding him as a half-wild creature.  <Tell me something...  What changed you...?> 

Angel glanced away, deliberately boxing his emotions.  With cruel efficiency he crushed the emotional cube, seeking to recover his equilibrium and self-control.  This last week had played havoc with his self-control, subjecting him to numerous and tumultuous emotional upheavals.  He still felt off-balance.  When he finally spoke, his tone was calm and even, devoid of even the slightest inflection.  "Lots of little things and one big thing," he finally replied.  "I broke up with Darla, rejoined the Family, and starting spending more time with Sean.  Some of the satisfaction I obtained from inflicting malicious cruelty began to wan as I became more jaded.  But the real clincher came when I fell in love with a Slayer." 

"Juliana?"  Willow whispered the long-dead girl's name, even though she knew the answer. 

"Juliana," he agreed with a nod.  "My beautiful wildcat."  His voice held reverence, his eyes self-disgust.  "I did everything in my power to break her and not once did she bow her stubborn neck  When she lay in my arms dying, only then did she finally beg."  His lips twisted cruelly with the recounting.  He despised himself so deeply and utterly that Willow began to wonder if she would ever overcome his self-inflicted hatred.  <So much pain...  How am I ever going to heal all of it...?> 

"Angel, I--"  Unable to speak, she reached for him, physically and mentally.  Her hand touched his face, but he turned his face aside, rejecting her compassion.  He closed the link to her, isolating himself and refusing to take refuge within her mind.  Astonished, Willow felt a tear slip free.  <He's never rejected my comfort before...> 

"Don't cry for me, Willow," he admonished her gently.  "Cry for my victims if you must cry."  His hand sought her face, his thumb wiping away that errant tear.  "Juliana didn't beg for her life, she begged me not to be make her into a vampire.  Guillaume had ordered me to embrace her."  Angel snorted derisively, turning away from her in anger.  He relentlessly forced the remainder of his confession, unwilling to stop speaking for fear he couldn't bring himself to continue.  "To my appalled astonishment, I actually felt sorry for her.  I let her die..." 

He trailed off with a vague shrug, as if still uncertain to this day of his exact motivations for doing so.  It might have been pity, or perhaps simply his own pride refusing to let Guillaume have what belonged to him.  "That's where it really began.  Why Guillaume stuck me with a cursed tattoo.  Why I began to question what and who I really was.  Why I came up with a plan for controlling the Slayer and killing the Chosen."  He looked back up at her, the guilt of a thousand sins in his eyes.  "To all extents and purposes, I was a demon.  I believed it, I lived it, and I loved it.  I was perfectly evil, among the cruelest vampires in all of Europe.  I shouldn't have been capable of feeling compassion.  But I did."  His pause spoke volumes, conveying just how much that compassion had made him stop and think.  He'd questioned everything he was and believed because of it.  "The consequences eventually changed me completely." 

Willow cocked her head analytically.  Everything clicked, except for one thing; his cannibalism.  "So, when and why did you start feeding on vampires?" she asked.  "From what you've said, that's not exactly an orthodox practice among vampires." 

Some of the guilt left his eyes and his lips twisted slightly with grim humor.  "Believe it or not, Guillaume suggested it.  I was trying to break a morphine addiction.  Vampire blood provided enough of a high that it enabled me to stop draining addicts.  After I broke the addiction, I kept with it because I liked the sense of clarity--" 

The phone rang, cutting Angel off in mid-sentence.  He turned quickly, reaching for the phone, eager to accept the very welcome interruption the call provided.  "Hello?" he said briskly into the receiver, cocking his head slightly as he listened to the caller.  His jaw dropped and he looked utterly astonished.  He snapped to attention like a solider before a military officer.  "Yes, ma'am," he replied after a moment, his manner immensely respectful and courteous. 

Willow sat up, instantly curious.  "Who is it?" she asked.  Angel held up a finger, signaling for her to wait while he listened. 

"Yes, ma'am," he replied again.  "Not one hair," Angel agreed readily.  "You have my word."  Another pause.  "No ma'am."  Then, "I've already proposed."  Willow bounced to her feet, grabbing for the phone.  Angel swiftly evaded, maneuvering around the couch to keep the phone out of her reach.  "Yes, ma'am, she accepted."  Willow leapt after him, grabbing for the phone again but Angel was more dexterous.  "I'm looking forward to meeting you also, Mrs. Rosenburg."  With that clincher, Angel finally offered Willow the phone.  "It's for you.  It's your mother." He informed her helpfully, with one of the most perfectly deadpan deliveries Willow ever had and ever would witness again. 

She snatched the phone away from him with a glare and slapped it against her face.  "Mom?" she demanded, certain that he must be pulling her chain.  <I'm going to get him if he's pulling my leg!!> 

He wasn't.  "Willow, honey!"  Her mother's familiar voice melted with relief and joy as it emerged from the speaker.  "Oh, thank the Lord!  We've been so worried about you when you didn't come home today.  Uncle Sean called yesterday to say that you were fine and coming home, but then we didn't hear anything for almost twenty-four hours.  I was worried sick!  And I felt so foolish for not asking Uncle Sean for his phone number when he called!  Finally, we called some Family from back East and they managed to track down his phone number and call us back with it.  Fortunately, he was gracious enough to give me Angel's phone number.  Of course, he DID owe me that, ESPECIALLY after that stunt he pulled kidnapping you, Darling!!"  Her mother paused for breath before launching into another burst of chatter.  "I must say young lady, that you really should have called us," her mother scolded sternly. 

Overwhelmed by her mother's babbling, Willow nodded her head and kept her mouth shut.  "I'm sorry, mom," she apologized, feeling like a heel for having caused her mother so much distress.  "It's just that--I."  she trailed off, not having the faintest clue as to how to explain.  "UNCLE SEAN...?!" she finally managed weakly, that one word sticking out like a sore thumb at an anti-hitchhiking convention. <UNCLE SEAN...?!!!> 

"It's ok, honey," her mother reassured her gently.  "Your father and I understand what you're going through.  Uncle Sean explained everything. This whole mess is simply terrible.  Your father and I just wanted to call, and let you know how much we love you and that we're here for you." 

Willow swallowed past the huge lump in her throat.  Her mother's love and support made her want to cry, even though she had only the foggiest idea what her mother meant exactly.  "Uncle Sean?" she tried again, blinking past her tears. 

Her question finally seemed to sink in.  "Yes," Willow's mother informed her briskly.  "Sean was something like a surrogate uncle to me while I was growing up.  He used to perform the most wonderful magic tricks for me.  I was so relieved when he called and said that he was the one who'd kidnapped you and why."  Her mother's voice held a happy smile and fond memories; Sean was part of the milk and cookies of her childhood.  "Of course, I've fallen out of touch with the Family since my mother made me leave Boston and come to Sunnydale." 

"I'm sorry,"  Willow apologized inanely, feeling somehow responsible.  <Which makes no sense at all...!  Am I apologizing to my mother because she likes Sean or because she's lost touch with our family...?>  Her mother breezed over her apology, not even commenting on it. 

"Sean says that your ability has finally awakened," Beth observed almost too casually.  "I'd like to speak with you privately," she hinted.  Willow observed the emphasis underlying her mother's words.  She was surprised when a telepathic "pinging" occurred immediately afterwards.  The pinging acted as a sort of homing beacon, enabling her to reach out and locate her mother from half-way across Sunnydale.  Willow dropped her shields and reached out, extending her mind towards her mother.  Her body and the physical world fell away from her awareness, the further she reached with her mind.  <She's there...  Just a little bit further....> 

Suddenly, she found herself being drawn back.  Angel, sensing her entering into a telepathic link with a party unknown to him, bullied his way into her mind.  Determined to protect her at all costs, he seized control of their link.  Willow found herself being stretched in what briefly became a game of tug-of-war with Willow as both one of the pullees and the rope.  She opened her eyes to find herself cradled in Angel's arms.  She sighed mightily.  "Angel, it's fine."  Her hands patted, seeking to convey reassurance to her overly enthusiastic 'watch dog'.  "My mom wants to talk to me privately," she explained.  His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he couldn't gracefully deny or protest.  With a grunt, Angel withdrew from her mind.  He did not, however, put her down. 

Trying to focus, Willow turned her attention inward.  Communicating with someone telepathically over large distances seemed to mean losing contact with her body briefly.  She lacked a permanent link with her mother, which was what enabled her to speak to Angel so easily over a distance.  The idea of losing track of her body frightened Willow.  However, it didn't seem quite so bad with the knowledge that Angel would watch over her.  Knowing her mother must be growing concerned by the interruption, Willow hastily renewed telepathic contact.  She followed the pinging back to its source. 

Willow's mother, Beth, was in the kitchen of Willow's home.  Although her mother lacked true telepathic ability, she was nonetheless extremely well trained.  Willow found her easily.  Her mother was but a weak telepath compared to Willow.  However, what she lacked in strength she made up for in skill.  She possessed years of training in the most advanced techniques known to Willow's Family.  To Willow's surprise, her mother took charge of the joining, casually directing its course with a  skilled expertise somewhat rusted by lack of use.  In her mind's eye, Willow appeared in her own kitchen.  Her mother was seated at the  kitchen table.  "Mom?!"  she cried, startled by the surrealism of the waking dream.  Her mother stood and extended her arms smiling.  Willow  rushed into her mother's embrace. 

"I'm sorry this is so rough, honey," Beth apologized, wrapping her arms around her wayward daughter.  "But I'm very rusty.  I can't even pull  your father in, so I'm afraid that it's going to have to be just the two of us."  She stepped back enough to examine Willow more thoroughly.  "Look at you!"  She beamed, proud beyond words.  "You're at least as strong as your grandmother, if not stronger.  Mother would be so proud!" 

"Mom, what is this?"  Willow asked, more than slightly bewildered.  She turned around to more carefully examine the kitchen.  The dreamscape was good, however it was defined by a soft vagueness that lacked hard detail.  <Like a dream...  Like the one I pulled Angel into at "The  Bronze".> 

Her mother sat back down in her chair.  "It's called the Dreaming, dear."  Her mother patted the chair next to her and at her mother's  urging, Willow took a seat.  "It a sort of telepathic phone call, only more private.  The technique takes years of study to master."  Her mother folded her hands in a most lady-like fashion, absently crossing her knees.  "It facilitates a telepathic meld without a total blending of minds," she elaborated, explaining why she'd chosen this particular forum.  She pursed her lips, thinking, with a faint frown marring her brow.  "I needed to speak with you in private."  She looked to Willow. 

"Yes?" she asked with cautious curiosity.  Her mother looked faintly uncomfortable, reminding Willow of the "Big" conversations they'd shared.  <Where babies come from...  My first period...  The birds and the bees...> 

"Sean told us about Angelus, Darling," Beth stated bluntly, finally choosing honesty in the face of adversity.  Willow began to protest  instinctively, but her mother held up quelling hands.  "And while I'm  pleased that you've captured such an eligible consort..."  her mother  trailed off delicately and Willow stared at her in confusion.  Seeing  her bewilderment, Beth elaborated.  "I realize, of course, that Angel is  a highly ranked member of the Family for his age and status, but  still..."  Beth wove worried patterns in the air with her hands.  "AND  he is Guillaume's grandchild, BUT..."  Her mother turned red. 

"You think that I'm too young,"  Willow surmised, trying to spare her mother any more awkward explaining.  She sighed, experiencing a burst of  self-pity.  <It's not like I wasn't expecting this...> 

"Oh, No!"  her mother exclaimed, waving that aside.  "I was fourteen  when I took my first lover!"  Beth stopped and her cheeks suddenly warmed another degree at her own impulsive revelation.  Finally, she rushed ahead and got to the point.  "Sean told us the ENTIRE truth once  he realized that we already knew about your birthright."  She paused, to  let THAT sink in.  "Are you safe with Angel, Willow?"  her mother blurted the question out, her meaning quite clear.  "Are you and he of  One Mind?" she inquired bluntly. 

Abruptly, Willow understood.  Her mother's vague questions were politely phrased inquiries as to Angel's trustworthiness.  <She knows that Angel is supposed to assassinate me.  And she wants to know if I read his thoughts and can be certain of his true intentions.> 

"Yes," Willow replied without hesitation or doubt.  She didn't even think about her response.  She held her mother's eyes steadily and  deliberately opened her emotions up to Beth.  She let her mother feel the depth of her conviction and their mutual commitment.  Without words, she granted Beth momentary access to the love and trust she shared with Angel.  <We love each other so much, Mom...> 

Beth sighed with relief and hastily dismissed the awkward subject.  "That's good enough for me," her mother pledged.  She beamed with pride,  briefly celebrating her daughter's fine catch.  "Is Angel as handsome as  his brother?" she asked with a breathless rush, practically bouncing.  Willow nodded, biting back the impulse to brag.  <Well, actually, he's  better...!!!> 

"I had the biggest crush on Sean when I was your age!"  Beth giggled.  She snatched up Willow's hands, practically squealing.  Willow bounced along with her mother instinctively, as teenage girls tend to do.  It  was one of the weirdest moments of her entire life.  <This is not my mother...!!  MY mother works nine to five, and then cooks dinner.  She's  Vice President of the PTA.  She likes Clint Eastwood.  This woman is  some manifestation of the Hellmouth taking her place...> 

Willow decided to approach the situation from a different angle.  She  needed more information.  "I can't believe that you and dad knew about  everything and didn't tell me!" she exclaimed, changing the subject.  Her tone held protest, disbelief and mild accusation.  Willow still could quite get a grasp on this part of it.  <Somehow, a Parental  Conspiracy seems even more far-fetched and unlikely than "civilized"  vampires or Angel being a master of deception...!!> 

Her mother stopped bouncing and paused, taking mild exception with the accusation present in her daughter's voice.  "The same way you hid the truth from us about Buffy?" she delivered the quick repartee with  aplomb.  Her tone was mild and held no reproach, but the pointed question derailed Willow's outrage neatly.  She flushed deeply under Beth's watchful and knowing gaze, remembering  all of the times she'd fabricated a tall-tale to cover her covert activities as a Slayerette. <Touché!> 

"Guess you were trying to protect me...?"  she asked, amazed at the number of people who seemed to be keeping secrets from her 'for her own good'.  Her mother nodded and Willow decided then and there to let it rest.  <Some things are better left alone!>  "So, how long have you known about everything?" she queried, truly interested now that the tension was past. 

Her mother eyeballed her thoughtfully.  "Define 'everything'?" she posed the question hypothetically, while rolling her eyes to the heavens.  "There seem to be more factors at work here than anyone anticipated.  I've never seen such a sophisticated mess of deceptions and counter deceptions." Willow bounced her head frantically in agreement and Beth shook her head to emphasize her confusion.  She held up a finger, enumerating.  "Your father and I were aware of your destiny long before you were actually born.  My mother foresaw your birth and destiny in a vision." 

Trying to make it quite clear that they'd always acted in Willow's best interests, her mother took her hands again.  "My mother said that moving to Sunnydale would be for the best.  That you would be safer on the Hellmouth, that you would make the right friends while growing up here. I didn't understand what she meant at the time, but I think that I do now."  Beth cocked her head in an almost meditative manner, recalling. "We first became aware of Buffy's true identity the night she killed the Master."  Her mouth turned down unhappily and her hands trembled slightly.  "There was so much negative psychic resonance coming off the Hellmouth that night."  She shook her head.  "I would have missed it if I hadn't been watching the Hellmouth from the astral plane.  I was so frightened for you, trapped there at that awful school by those Morlocks."  Nearly in tears, her mother's voice broke.  "You could have died.  I was furious with myself and my mother for ever having brought you here." 

Willow squeezed her mother's hands, trying to reassure her.  Beth forced calm, drawing in a deep breath.  "To be honest, I was somewhat dismayed when I first realized that you were fraternizing with the Slayer."  Willow instantly opened her mouth, prepared to leap to Buffy's defense.  Her mother quickly waved off her retort.  "Buffy seems like such a nice girl, in spite of it," she asserted quickly.  She added another dismissive wave, indicating Buffy's shortcoming was forgivable. "With time I came to realize that it was a good thing.  Especially in light of your pending duties as Immortal Watcher.  For me it was really the first time though that your destiny became real.  I've known about it since before your conception but it was always sort of far off.  A distant event." 

Her mother paused again, taking a moment to breath.  By now, Willow was truly in awe of her previously quiet mother's ability to talk. "However, in light of the new policies that Guillaume is planning to initiate, everything really works out for the best."  Beth seemed to be suffering from the same stumbling block Sean had fallen over at the idea of HELPING versus HARMING the Slayer.  A lifetime of being told the Slayer was Public Enemy #1 took more than a moment to overcome.  "Your father and I do want to say that we're sorry for concealing the truth from you for so long.  Ironically, we were planning on telling you this weekend.  We've been worried about all of the bad things that have been happening down at that awful high school lately." 

Her mother paused to suck in air and Willow leapt at the chance to get a word in edge wise.  "You know Guillaume?" she asked carefully.  <I suppose that makes sense, based upon Guillaume's comments about his relationship with my grandmother...> 

Her mother laughed heartily.  "Oh, Honey!  Know him! Why he's practically my father!" she exclaimed, sounding both amused and yet faintly saddened.  "Guillaume raised me.  He and your Grandmother Jenna were married!"  It seemed obvious to Willow that Guillaume and Grandma Jenna, and perhaps all of her family, were people her mother missed a great deal. 

"Do you know that he wants me dead?"  Willow asked carefully.  Her mother fell silent abruptly.  "Did Sean tell you about the spell and closing the Hellmouths?" 

"He told me," her mother enunciated each word carefully.  "But I also know this.  Guillaume CANNOT harm you without violating the Traditions and breaking Covenant.  The Covenant is what has held our Family together for the last six hundred years.  Guillaume himself promised to honor and protect his descendants. Accordingly, no harm shall befall us by one of the Kindred in exchange for our loyal service and our protection in turn."  She drew herself up, ready to assume arms on her daughter's behalf.  She'd do anything necessary to protect her off-spring, even against her own adopted father. "Guillaume cannot harm you without destroying the very foundations upon which the Family is built.  And I WILL NOT allow my father to harm you.  NO MATTER WHAT." Her mother's determination was palpable, in her voice, manner, and the stubborn set of her jaw.  "He can just find some other way to close the damn Hellmouths." 

Willow sighed, sensing that her mother truly did believe in what she said.  She thought her mother naive, but chose not to comment upon it. She also knew that her own grandmother--Guillaume's own wife--hadn't trusted in his honor deeply enough to risk him discovering the truth. Grandmother Jenna had sent Beth and Willow away for good reason. <Surely Guillaume won't hesitate to kill me, no matter what honor may say!  I'm his once in a millennium opportunity to close the Hellmouths and I CAN'T believe that he would pass on it.> 

"My mother left her memories within me, Willow," her mother told her gently, taking her hand.  "I'm carrying a message that she left for you.  I'd like to show it to you, if you don't mind?"  She lifted her head slightly, seeking permission and Willow nodded her consent. Abruptly, the dreamscape changed from her kitchen to a meadow.  It was springtime and the open field was filled with tall grasses, brightly colored flowers in bloom, and chirping birds.  Her mother morphed slightly, becoming a woman of the same apparent age, but one of a slightly different appearance.  The family resemblance was strong but Willow could easily distinguish between mother and grandmother.  Her grandmother's face and build were much like her own, although her bearing bespoke a more regal and dignified personality, that of an older woman with more experience and authority. 

"Hello, Willow."  Her grandmother Jenna smiled and squeezed her hand, her expression defined by love and serenity.  "I'm speaking to you from out of the past.  I've implanted my collective lifetime of memories and experiences here within your mother.  I deeply regret that I cannot be there with you, however some things are not meant to be.  However, I live here, within your mother.  I wish to help you in any way I can. Now that your telepathic abilities have finally awakened, you will need training and guidance.  The path your life will follow will be a difficult one, full of difficult choices.  I offer you my assistance, and my knowledge.  I wish to be your mentor." 

"I have sent your mother away for both your safety and hers.  As much as I love and adore my husband, I don't trust that evil creature to resist the temptation you'd present."  Jenna smiled, chuckling spontaneously.  "Your mother questions my wisdom in sending you to live near the Hellmouth and calling this 'safe'.  However, destiny ordains that it will be so." 

Still smiling, Jenna shifted her position slightly.  Her grandmother seemed so vibrant and alive that Willow began to forget this was a "recording" and not the genuine article.  Jenna clicked her tongue thoughtfully, falling into what was obviously a rehearsed speech.  "As Immortal Watcher, you will need the friends which you will find there. The experiences and knowledge you acquire within the Hellmouth will shape who you are and who you will be."  She arched an ironic eyebrow. "Merrick's time passed because he became ineffectual in this modern age of technological wonder and rapid change.  He was stagnant and his heyday was long past.  This condemnation may sound unnecessarily harsh but I knew him personally through many lifetimes.  Merrick hit his prime during the Dark Ages." 

With a derogatory snort and a brief toss of her glorious long red locks, she continued.  "As Immortal Watcher you must always seek the most balanced course of action and consider ALL options before making decisions.  You Child, truly are born of light and darkness.  For while your soul is pure, our Family is not quite so righteous.  Always do what is right for your Slayer.  But remember Willow, your origins.  Remember who your Family is." 

That mandate issued, Jenna's manner relaxed somewhat.  "I cannot begin your training until you complete the full transition to immortality and your abilities have stabilized.  You are too erratic now and cannot afford to exhaust yourself."  She nodded to herself, confirming some inner suspicion.  "The coming night will be a demanding ordeal for you, at best.  You are under no obligations to accept my help, however know that it is here and that it is offered freely." 

The message ended and her grandmother morphed back into her mother. The field, however, remained.  Her mother began to speak, but stopped suddenly.  A look of intense concentration and some panic crossed her face as she detected an intruder eavesdropping on their meld.  Or perhaps, more appropriately phrased, as an intruder deliberately let her feel his presence.  Beth whirled around, her eyes turning red.  "YOU WERE NOT INVITED HERE!!" she snarled, advancing on someone standing behind Willow.  Willow nearly snapped her spine, she spun so quickly. Directly behind her, a fair distance off, stood a large silver wolf with cold, pale blue eyes. 

As Beth drew closer, the wolf fell back, its tongue lolling, bushy tail held high, and paws dancing in a playful prance.  It's manner was friendly and enthusiastic, that of a big puppy that wanted to play. Only the ice blue eyes--cold and cunning-- revealed the true nature of the predator.  Willow felt the pain of shocked recognition like a scorpion's sting.  <Guillaume!!  He's here!!  He knows!!> 

"Leave," Beth hissed the command, drawing herself up like a weapon.  To all extents and purposes, Willow's petite mother towered with glorious, maternal protectiveness.  A whip appeared in her hand, lashing forward like a striking serpent.  With a snap of her wrist, its tip sliced open the wolf's sensitive nose with deadly precision.  Started and hurt, the wolf leapt backwards, yipping pitifully.  With a sharp yank the whip snapped back, obeying Beth's will.  Weaving the whip behind her in a cracking dance she advanced again threateningly. 

Without warning, an angry, warning snarl erupted from deep in the beast's chest.  His silver fur bristled, standing on end, and his lips curled back to display rows of razor-sharp fangs.  His eyes burned with ice blue flame and Beth stopped her advancement, suddenly frightened. She swallowed, fortifying her courage, and took another step forward. The whip cracked again as she issued her own warning, making it clear to the creature that such intrusion would not be tolerated.  A stare down followed between  father and daughter, as each tested the other's mettle.  Finally the wolf relented and retreated.  With a last backwards glance he turned tail and ran, bounding off across the grassy field. The silver wolf quickly disappeared from sight behind a short knoll. 

"M-M-M-OM!"  Willow stammered, astonished and barely able to muster coherent thought.  "He--It--Grandfather--!!!"  Panic and blind fear threatened to overwhelm her; she'd depended up the relative security of her identity remaining a secret.  Now, apparently, that security was gone.  Her mother's own startling behavior unsettled her further. <Mommy, Warrior Princess...!> 

Beth turned back to her, her eyes returning to normal and the whip disappeared.  She opened her arms and Willow threw herself into her mother's protective embrace.  "Hush," Beth/Jenna shushed her child gently.  Willow cried and her mother patted her daughter on the back soothingly, as if calming a baby.  "It's ok, honey."  She drew away slowly.  "We need to terminate the link now that it has been compromised." 

"Should I come home?"  Willow asked with a disconsolate sniff and a short hiccup. 

Her mother hesitated before replying.  "No," she finally answered. "Stay with your consort until tonight.  The two of you deserve the time alone together.  Guillaume won't make his move until then."  Her mother released her from the hug and stepped back, her hands still resting upon Willow's shoulders.  "Your father and I will meet you at the library after sunset.  I need the rest of the afternoon to prepare." 

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked weakly.  She sensed her mother was formulating a plan. 

"I'm going to challenge him under Tradition," her mother stated flatly.  She drew herself as regally as a queen.  Her eyes were distant and cold, burning with frozen fire.  "As his daughter and your mother, I'm currently one of the Family's highest ranking matriarchs."  Their eyes met, and Willow barely recognized the stranger before her as her mother.  Decades of housekeeping and baking fell to the wayside as need reawakened her mother's earliest training.  A formidable woman took her place, still her mother but utterly unnerving.  Seeing her daughter about to protest, Beth shushed her again.  "Don't concern yourself, daughter.  Not every Challenge results in a physical duel." 

Like a ghost she began to withdraw, leaving a soft fog in her wake. Willow found herself laying in Angel's lap on the couch, cradled in his arms.  She opened her eyes, feeling exhausted beyond words.  He noticed her slight movement and smiled with relief, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.  "Are you back now, Seabhaicín?"  Willow murmured consent, snuggling close to him for protection.  Like a little fox, her mind sought the warm burrow of his mind, hiding from the monsters waiting to eat her.  Too tired for such formalities as speech, she hastily dumped her accumulated memories of the Dreaming she'd undergone with her mother. 

Angel absorbed her experiences thoughtfully, without comment.  He digested the memories carefully and slowly, being especially thorough. Like an entomologist dissecting a roach, he pulled apart her impression of the "wolf".  At last satisfied, he could not deny the truth any longer.  Grim determination accompanied by an underlying current of fear settled over him.  "Guillaume," he agreed, his tone ominous and his manner brooding. 

Willow lay on her stomach on top of Angel, who lay on his back upon the couch.  Cat sat perched regally in the middle of Willow's back, like a queen on her throne.  She was busily engaged in cleaning her back paw with prissy thoroughness, one small part of a complex operation in grooming that seemed to require at least one hundred tongue strokes per body part.  Willow found the rocking motion of Cat's body that accompanied each tongue lick to be strangely comforting.  <Like a tiny rocking ship.  Only, I'm the lake and Cat is the boat.> 

She propped her chin up with her hands in order to peer down into Angel's face.  He opened his eyes at her action and offered her a sleepy smile.  Seeing an opportunity to catch him off guard, she pounced. "Angel, do you think I'm attractive?"  Willow inquired quite pointedly, instinctively drawing upon one of the myriad questions women use to keep men off balance.  For truly, such a question has no correct answer and any incorrect answer is a trap. 

He blinked, his expression mildly incredulous.  'What are you nuts?!' it seemed to say.  Then his eloquent expression shifted to 'Have I somehow left that in doubt?' as he tried to baffle through what might be going on in her head.  Angel, who had not survived for over two-hundred years on blind luck, possessed strong survival instincts and so he responded promptly.  "I think that you're very attractive," he replied with conviction, carefully scrutinizing her face for any clue as to what might be going on.  Willow's expression remained guarded and he began to wonder if he'd somehow gotten himself into trouble.  "You're beautiful," he complimented, upping the stakes in case 'very attractive' didn't suffice. 

Willow said nothing, enjoying watching him squirm.  'Yep, I'm in trouble,' his expression confirmed.  'Wonder what I did wrong this time?'  Being one to act now and ask why later, Angel turned on the charm.  As cute as can be, he offered her a little boy's grin and puppy dog eyes.  "Absolutely Ravishing?" he queried, still hoping to worm his way out of trouble. 

"And when was the first time you found me attractive?" she demanded, continuing her interrogation.  She kept her expression deliberately inscrutable and arched an inquisitive eyebrow that would have done a Vulcan justice.  She kept all traces of humor from her demeanor with the most excruciating self-control.  <He's so cute when he's in kiss-up mode.!!>  Angel actually hesitated, much to Willow's infinite surprise. <Hey!  Looks like I've stumbled across something!!> 

"You might not like this," he warned, looking reluctant to answer the question.  Willow was immediately intrigued; her gaze became insistently demanding.  "The first time I held you," Angel supplied succinctly, wincing faintly.  His expression was guarded and defensive; he looked like a Catholic school boy caught red-handed with dirty magazines.  "Don't forget that I can't always help what I think," he added, guilt hanging over him.  "It's not like I acted on the impulse to carry you off."  That wasn't true at all, and they both knew it.  He HAD indeed 'carried her off'.  Willow's skeptical eyebrow climbed higher.  Angel caved under the pressure and qualified his answer  "At least, not until last Thursday night." 

<When the drugs got the better of him.  But he wanted me before that!!>  Willow felt her eyes bulge, her face betraying the first hint of her true feelings for the first time since they'd begun this exchange.  She hadn't been expecting this.  "The first time you held me was when you saved me from the car," she observed, trying to get him to clarify his rather murky and bizarre statements. 

"No, it wasn't," Angel denied rather succinctly.  "The first time I held you was when that invisible girl locked you, Giles, and Xander in the basement," he corrected bluntly. "You were passed out, so I picked you up and carried you out.  I first noticed you then."  His manner was subconsciously aggressive, as if by assuming a dominant stance he could force her to back down.  He met her gaze expectantly, prepared to defend his honorable behavior if not his thoughts with regards to her.  Suddenly, she understood the source of his discomfort.  <He was supposed to be pining away for Buffy then, not noticing other girls!> 

A huge smile broke over Willow's face like a sunbeam.  "That was almost six month ago!" she squealed, clearly delighted.  She practically bounced with joy.  The movement displeased Cat, who dislodged herself and stalked off, tail swishing like a grumpy snake.  Seeing Angel's confusion, she tried to explain.  "No one ever noticed me."  she trailed off awkwardly, momentarily reverting back to a shy young girl.  "Well, before."  She gestured sideways with her head, blinking back an unexpected rush of sentimental tears.  <But someone DID notice me!  Angel did...!!> 

"Willow, most boys your age are idiots," Angel supplied absently, stroking her hair reassuringly.  "They just don't know a good thing when they see it."  He paused, memories flooding back, and his eyes lit with good-natured humor.  "You thought that I was your mother at the time,"  he recalled, with a sensual chuckle that soothed her nerves like hot chocolate and warms fires. 

"That was a perfectly understandable error,"  Willow muttered, blushing to rose petal pink.  Abruptly, a huge yawn interrupted her happy-as-butterfly-wings mood.  Angel laughed outright at her before pulling her head back down onto his chest. 

"Get some sleep," he murmured softly into her hair.  Willow was only too happy to comply.