Friendship

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

"You LIED to me," Buffy accused again, fuming and fighting back angry tears.  Willow opened her mouth to rush to his defense, but Angel silenced her immediately through the link.  <Let me handle this, Seabhaicín.>  His mental voice was strong, firm, and brooked no arguments.  The thought was a command, not a request.  He clearly expected Willow to obey his wishes in this matter, as he'd obeyed her in the past.  Angel knew he'd wronged Buffy; he intended to settle this matter between them once and for all.  <Buffy is entitled to her anger, Willow...  I betrayed our trust.  This is my choice, not yours.  My life is my own to offer as I see fit.> 

"Yes, I lied," Angel agreed evenly.  "Would you like to hear the truth or are you going to kill me?" he demanded crossly.  "I'm getting tired of the amount of time we seem to be spending in this position lately," he grumbled irritably.  Then, he fell silent, waiting to see if Buffy would stake him or if she wanted to hear his explanation. 

Willow shut her mouth in anger, biting back a vehement retort.  She understood what Angel was doing.  As the situation had grown tenser, their minds had reflexively drawn closer together.  Angel was "showing his throat" in a symbolic display of nonaggression.  He wanted to demonstrate graphically to Buffy that he meant her no harm.  To do so, he needed to show enough faith to trust blindly that she wouldn't destroy him. Willow also sensed that Angel did not truly believe that Buffy would plunge the stake in.  Buffy hadn't killed him before, when circumstances were much worse. 

His attitude irritated, frustrated, and hurt Willow. She'd become accustomed to thinking of Angel as "hers", to do with as she pleased.  Now she realized that this wasn't entirely the case.  While they belonged to one another, he belonged to himself more.  She'd learned that love meant possession.  Now she realized that love really meant freedom.  <Freedom to love, to grow, and to sacrifice...  And allowing your loved ones that freedom is really hard...> 

Buffy broke the ice water silence first.  "Angel," she croaked roughly, staring up at him.  She trembled, torn by indecision and uncertainty.  Her hand holding the stake shook, lacking its normal, practiced steadiness.  It became readily apparent to Willow that her friend couldn't stake the man they both loved, even if she truly wanted to.  Willow sighed with soft relief and relaxed. 

"It's not necessary," Angel told her gently.  His hand drifted up and settled lightly on her wrist, drawing the stake away.  Buffy offered no resistance and compliantly lowered the stake.  "We both know that what happened was a mistake," he murmured.  Buffy's eyes widened; this was the first time either of them had mentioned their disastrous confrontation aloud.  Hearing Angel do so shocked her.  His gaze was calm and steady as he forced the truth, casting aside fear and resentment.  He'd finally set aside the last vestiges of bitterness and blame his heart had harbored against Buffy .  He'd finally forgiven both himself for almost killing her and her for her unprovoked attack.  "You didn't mean it and neither did I." 

Buffy's stared at him blankly, and then her lower lip trembled.  She turned, throwing the stake at the wall as hard as she could.  The stake hit the wall, exploding in a shower of splinters.  Her gaze held guilt and aching vulnerability when she turned back to him.  "I nearly killed you Angel," she mumbled, staring down with slumped shoulders.  Tears streamed down her face and her voice quaked like that of a little girl.  It was one of the most heartbreaking moments Willow ever witnessed.  For the first time she forced herself to confront the truth. 

For all that Angel loved Willow-and he did-he loved Buffy just as much.  He'd loved Willow for less than a week; Buffy for nearly a year.  Despite the intimacy of their fledgling relationship, he still felt unresolved loyalty to Buffy.  That loyalty and love clearly needed to be laid to rest before he'd be free to love only Willow.  For Willow it was a heart shattering truth, but she forced it on herself.  <That's not likely to happen anytime soon.  Their love still survives, despite everything they've been through.  It won't die easily or swiftly, and maybe not ever.> 

"Did you lie about your feelings too.?" Buffy whimpered, her mouth twisting into an unhappy grimace.  A long, painful silence ensued, while she tried to stare Angel down, trying to see into his soul.  Unlike Willow, she had nothing more than his eyes and actions with which to judge him.  Buffy and Angel fell into each others eyes, temporarily becoming oblivious to the outside world.  The powerful love that bound them together awakened, weaving a spell over them that blotted out everything else. 

"You must know that's not true," Angel denied.  His voice was harsh, the words uttered in a short, brief statement of truth.  Every part of his being cried out against the accusation.  He couldn't stand for her to think that of him.  Of its own volition his hand reached for the silver cross hanging from Buffy's neck.  He fingered it hesitantly and Buffy flinched emotionally but not physically from the slight touch.  She remained still, permitting him the privilege of searing his finger on the symbol of their love.  A love which burned them both as the cross burned him now.  A love forbidden by circumstance.  Slayer and vampire; star-crossed lovers. 

Angel touched it with desperate longing, enduring the pain of being burned for a moment in love's glory.  Willow swallowed, deeply moved.  <I'd forgotten how they're drawn together.  They share a special kind of magnetism, that draws them together despite themselves.  Their love is spiritual and magical, as if they're soul mates.  They love each other so much, and it wounds both of them deeply to deny that love.  No matter what happens here, this is going to be unbearably painful for all three of us.> 

Abruptly, Angel yanked his hand away, realizing what he was doing.  Guilt and remorse instantly flooded his mind.  He immediately turned back to Willow, offering silent penance.  His expression was absolutely lost.  Through the link, she sensed his hurt confusion and torn loyalty.  Every instinct in him cried out to protect and comfort Buffy.  Only the knowledge that doing so would cause Willow equal pain and distress stayed his hand.  So he turned to Willow, seeking guidance from a young woman who'd repeatedly proven more emotionally mature and sensitive than a two-hundred and forty-one year old vampire.  <Why do I hurt everything I love, Willow?  I can't seem to stop, no matter what I do.  I can't stand hurting her anymore.> 

His plea was a tacit request for help.  Angel wanted to tell Buffy the entire truth, to finally shed the burden of lies and deception weighing down his conscience.  First, he wanted--needed--Willow's consent.  He'd never approach Buffy otherwise.  Willow's decision came easily; she trusted Angel implicitly.  Her generous and loving heart couldn't stand seeing either of her friends in so much pain.  <Talk to her, Angel.  Tell her the truth and don't spare yourself anything, because she deserves to know everything.> 

He nodded grateful acknowledgment.  She received a wordless pledge of his loyalty, designed to reassure her of his trustworthiness.  He knew to whom he belonged.  "I'll go wait inside," she said softly, into the long, uneasy silence.  Buffy, who'd forgotten about Willow entirely, stiffened abruptly.  She whirled back, hastily wiping her tears aside as she remembered her best friend.  To her own horror, Buffy realized the depths of her selfishness.  She'd been so busy thinking about herself that she'd forgotten about Willow.  The sharp reminder went a long way towards pulling the Slayer out of her self-centered "me" mood. 

"Willow, I'm sorry!" Buffy gasped, deliberately looking past Angel to her friend.  "I didn't think--"  She stopped, uncertain of how to continue.  Carefully, she skirted Angel, still not looking directly at him. 

"Buffy, it's ok,"  Willow smiled to offer her friend assurance and to demonstrate her own calm equilibrium.  The thought of Buffy and Angel alone together unsettled her somewhat, preying upon her insecurities.  However, she forced herself to set these fears aside.  Willow reached forward and hugged Buffy quickly.  She pushed a gentle, unobtrusive thought towards her friend, being careful not to violate Buffy's privacy.  <Angel loves you, Buffy.  Settle things with him now, because he still might die tonight.  If you leave things unresolved between the two of you, then you'll regret it for the rest of your life.  Don't worry about relationships right now.  It's the here and now that matters.  The future will take care of itself.> 

Buffy's eyes widened with shock.  Being told that your best friend is telepathic and experiencing it were two different things entirely.  "Thanks, Will," she replied, quickly returning her friend's hug.  As Buffy pulled away, she managed a brave, upbeat smile.  "This is gonna be great in class.  No more note passing." 

Willow grinned back.  "And no more detention!" she exclaimed.  Immediately afterwards, she turned bright red.  "Not that I ever receive detention.  Or can anymore since Principal Snyder expelled me."  She groaned at the reminder of how much trouble she was in.  "And I still haven't told my parents yet.  They're going to ground me forever..."  Quietly bemoaning her terrible fate, Willow turned and walked off.  <And I'm going to live forever, so they really can ground me for the rest of my life...> 

Buffy turned back to Angel and they moved over to a bench to talk.  Reaching the double doors leading to the library, Willow turned and glanced back at her friends.  She deliberately widened her telepathic perception to scan Buffy.  She felt guilty doing so.  She knew it to be an invasion of her friend's personal privacy, but she couldn't resist the temptation.  <I need to know.  Does she really love him or is this a "crush" as Angel calls it.  I need to know how much she loves him and how much it's going to hurt her to lose him to me.> 

The depth of Buffy's love and pain were staggering.  This week had been one nightmare after another for her, as she was beset by emotional, mental, and physical stresses tearing her apart from every direction.  The Slayer was strong, but she felt incredibly isolated and lost after being cut off from both Angel and Willow.    Together, Buffy and Angel's love was powerful enough to drown out the malevolent presence of the Hellmouth, which sat quietly in the background watching them.  Willow sensed displeasure and malcontent emanating from it.  The Hellmouth clearly did not want the Slayer and Angel together.  It would do anything within its malignant power to break them up. 

Contemplatively, Willow turned and entered the building alone.  <I wonder why that is.  What could Buffy and Angel's love possibly represent that the Hellmouth would perceive as a threat.?> 

Willow quietly eased into the library, gently shutting the swinging wooden door behind her.  She was attempting to duplicate Angel's "sneaky" technique.  <Blending with shadows, or hiding in plain sight, what ever you want to call it that he does not to be noticed.>  She had no idea whether she was succeeding, however.  She was pleased to note that none of the three adults--her mother and father, and Giles--seemed to notice her entry.  <Maybe it's working.!!>  The adults seemed to be in the middle of an argument, which may have accounted for their failure to notice Willow.  She frowned and scooted over to hide behind the encyclopedia section, intensely curious as to what they might be arguing about. 

"Mr. Giles!"  Willow's mother exclaimed, sounding more than mildly insulted.  "I hardly think that your skepticism is justified!  My daughter and I are NOT liars!!"  Outraged, Willow's mother stood up to glare at Giles.  She looked really mad.  Willow was suitably impressed.  <Haven't seen mom this mad since they installed the wrong color of carpet last year.  Poor Giles is really in for it.  I wonder what we supposedly "lied" about.?> 

"Of course you're not," Giles agreed hastily, attempting to apologize and cover his tracks.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply such."  He trailed off uncomfortably, using one finger to loosen his suddenly tight-feeling tie.  "I was merely suggesting that--in light of the lack of collaborating evidence--perhaps you and Willow have been deceived.  There is nothing in any of my books to suggest that it is even possible to seal the Hellmouths."  After a significant pause, he continued.  "You must understand, surely if a spell of this magnitude does exist, then it SHOULD have been written down or at least mentioned somewhere." 

Willow's mother and father exchanged a knowing look.  An unspoken message passed between them and Beth snorted softly, failing to keep a slightly derisive edge from her tone.  "Just because the Watchers haven't heard of it, doesn't mean that it doesn't exist."  She still sounded quite outraged and Willow found her sympathy siding with her mother on this one.  <Yeah!!  Way to go mom!!  Just like the possibility that all vampires might still have souls, and hence, might be 'savable' is something that can't be.  The Watchers have apparently decided to suppress any conflicting evidence that might confuse the Slayer.  After all, can't have the Slayer having to face a moral dilemma or having to pass judgment on someone...  I *can't* wait to gets my hands on the Watcher's political machine.  I'm going to dismantle and rebuild their entire organization from the ground up.!!!> 

Willow's mother kept going as she got on a roll.  "Kindred are quite careful about guarding our Family's Magickal secrets," Mr. Giles.  She turned, pacing, and fell into an unintentional parody of Giles in lecture mode.  It was quite funny; Willow suppressed a giggle.  "In the hands of the ignorant, such things could be extremely dangerous.  Why a botched attempt to close the Hellmouths could result in a rift in reality or something equally disastrous."  Beth waved her hands in the air, still mimicking Giles.  "My father crafted that ritual himself and is currently one of the only magicians in the entire world skilled enough to cast it.  He simply WOULDN'T permit it to fall into the wrong hands!"  By 'wrong', she clearly implied 'Watchers'. 

Giles opened his mouth to reply, his eyes bulging slightly at the implication that a group of vampires didn't trust the Watchers not to unwittingly destroy the world.  His expression was quite comical as he tried to digest this little slice of unreality.  Beth kept going, chugging along like the Little Engine That Could.  She was obviously on a roll and seemed to be enjoying the rare opportunity to debate philosophy and politics with an actual Watcher. 

Ira Rosenburg, Willow's father, a quiet man by nature, wisely held his tongue and listened.  After more than twenty years of marriage, he knew better than to try and compete with his wife once she got going.  Beth waved a reprimanding finger under Giles' nose as she began to wind down.  "AND I don't even see why you're even bringing this up!" she exclaimed.  "We're obviously not going to ask Angel to drain my daughter, just so that the damn Hellmouths can be closed!!  And make no mistakes!!  That's what would be necessary in order to complete this ritual!!" 

Giles made a semi-strangled noise.  He'd never meant to imply anything of the sort.  Obviously, sacrificing Willow was not an option.  He jumped into the tiny gap created by Beth's need to breathe.  "I quite agree!"  he burst out.  "I merely thought it a shame that such knowledge-assuming that it does indeed exist."  Beth's lips clenched and Giles raised placating hands.  "Isn't being properly preserved.  Giles' expression plainly said, 'Thank Goodness, this woman isn't a vampire!!  If she didn't breathe, I'd never get a word in edgewise!!'  Accustomed to being the talker in most situations, Giles was quite bemused.  He rarely, if ever, met other marathon lecturers of greater stamina than himself.  It was a humbling experience. 

Beth's eyebrows were Giles' arched enemies.  "I assume by 'properly preserved' you mean preserved by Watchers?"  she inquired sweetly.  Giles swallowed, too late realizing his blunder.  This time his foot resided in his stomach instead of just his mouth.  Beth tried to keep her tone polite, calm and rational, but it wasn't easy.  "I assure you that it is well preserved," she said, drawing herself up.  Her husband heaved a mournful sigh in his chair and she sent him a warning look.  "My Family keeps its secrets well." 

It was obvious to Giles that this avenue of conversation was not progressing well.  He decided to change the subject.  "About Willow's Watcher training," he began.  "I was of the initial impression that I had almost another two full years to prepare her for her future duties.  However, Willow's inexplicably undergone the transformation early, so she is still a minor."  Giles trailed off, leaving the implication hanging. 

Beth picked up the end of the sentence.  "And you're going to need our cooperation in order to complete her training.?" she finished for him, smiling sweetly.  Giles removed his glasses, looking tired and almost ill.  He pressed his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose, attempting to ward off a headache. 

"Yes," he agreed. 

"That shouldn't be a problem," Beth replied, finally taking pity on the poor librarian and relenting somewhat.  "Ira and I intend to move as soon as is reasonably possible.  We're only living on the Hellmouth because my mother mandated it be so.  I believe that the Watchers' U.S. chapter is based in Boston.?"  she trailed off expectantly.  A glassy eyed Giles nodded consent.  "We want our family to be safe and it will never be so while we live in Sunnydale." 

Giles eyes continued to bulge as this sank in.  Willow felt like she'd been pole-axed.  "Boston?!" they suddenly chorused in unison.  Beth, Ira, and Giles spun to face the stunned and previously unnoticed Willow.  With warm welcomes, both parents rushed over to scoop up their wayward daughter into tight hugs. 

Willow's mother pulled back from the hug and guided Willow over to the table where they'd been seated.  "What's wrong, Honey?"  she inquired, very concerned by the lambasted look on Willow's face. 

Willow stared at her mother blankly, unable to formulate words from her crowded and jumbled thoughts.  "BOSTON?!!" she finally blurted out, falling back into her old habit of speak-first, think-later. 

Her mother's lips oohed in dismay and she sighed.  "I'm sorry Willow," she apologized with heart-felt regret.  "We didn't mean for you to find out like this.  But your father and I."  Beth took her husband's hands to demonstrate their unity.  "We feel that it's for the best that we leave Sunnydale as soon as possible.  In at least one respect, it was fortuitous that you underwent the transformation two years early."  Her mother smiled, looking quite radiant, and Ira Rosenburg grinned also.  "We're expecting," Beth finished, smiling at her husband.  She missed the shell-shocked look that crossed Willow's face at that little bomb. 

For a moment, Willow sat, stunned.  <Expecting.?!>  "As in a baby?!" she blurted.  Beth nodded enthusiastically and bounced out of her seat to hug her daughter again.  "How did that happen.?"  Willow wondered aloud, still feeling blank disbelief.  Then, realizing what she'd just asked, she blushed and began to stutter.  "I don't mean, 'how did that happen', but more like 'what happened'.  But that's not really right either.  I mean, I KNOW where babies come from!  I just didn't think that you and dad."  she trailed off in horrified embarrassment.  Her face turned an emboldened red.  <I didn't think what.?!  That mom and dad still had sex.?!  OH, YUCK!!  Well, wait.  Be fair.  They are like, well.  people.> 

Luckily, her mother chose to wave Willow's stumbling spiel aside.  "We've always wanted another child, but we were never willing to take the chance while we lived on the Hellmouth.  This is a happy "accident".  The timing is perfect.  We can move back home and raise the child safe and sound near Family.  And your entrance to MIT is already guaranteed," her mother gushed effusively.  "You're just going to LOVE Boston, Darling!  There's so much culture.  Museums, universities, the Smithsonian, theater, the Boston Symphony, fine restaurants..  Oh, and of course, plenty of things for people your age." 

"I suppose," Willow agreed with a mournful sigh, more to appease her mother than for any other reason.  Frankly, she found the idea of leaving her friends behind to be traumatizing.  <Sunnydale may be the Hellmouth, BUT it IS home...  I've lived here my whole life...  Well, I'll try to look on the bright side...  MIT is a great university and having a brother or sister is going to be nice...  I wonder if Angel will move that far to be with me...?> 

Giles also sighed mournfully.  He could hardly inform Willow's parents that such a move was inconvenient for him.  Unfortunately, diplomacy was not a standard part of Watcher training.  Normally, one was not expected to argue propriety with the "enemy".  Not that he considered Willow's parents to be his enemies, but Beth seemed to consider him to be their enemy.  He deemed it wise to hold his tongue on this matter, at least for the time being.  Curiosity drove him to ask the question preying upon his mind.  "Tell men Mrs. Rosenburg, I can understand why your 'Kindred' bear such hostility towards the Watcher Organization, but I personally find your own hostility somewhat baffling.  I'm also puzzled as to why you and the other 'human' members of your family bear them such loyalty." 

With the grace of a belly-flopping manta ray, Giles leapt out of the frying pan and into the fire.  Both of the Rosenburgs turned to Giles immediately.  Beth sputtered and even Willow's father sat up straighter, his mouth hanging open in mild outrage.  "You DARE ask me that after the massacres of 1756, 1801, AND 1922?!"  Beth demanded, clearly furious.  "Those weren't just VAMPIRES that your precious Slayer slaughtered.  Dozens of *human beings* were killed too!"  She seethed an almost luminescent rage.  Willow blinked.  <Cool!  I'm seeing auras now too!  Gee, I wonder what mom is so mad about.?> 

"Not to mention their role in the Inquisition and the witch hunts," Willow's father piped up helpfully. 

Giles nearly died of discomfort.  Embarrassment and shame reddened his neck like a scarlet necktie.  He dug a finger into his collar and began to stutter.  "Y-y-yes, we-ll.  I ackn-nowl-ledge th-at."  he trailed off awkwardly, trying to recover his aplomb.  "Some mistakes have been made," he apologized.  He sounded sincerely sorry and Willow experienced a rush of sympathy for the poor librarian.  <I mean, he's hardly responsible for what past Watchers did.> 

 "I'm sure that the 'Family' is responsible for just as many bad things, Mom,"  Willow piped up quietly, coming to Giles defense.  All eyes flew to her and she shifted awkwardly, feeling terribly self-conscious.  She was unwilling to continue standing by and watching while her mother continued to roast Giles over the open fires of condemnation.  Beth flushed under Willow's knowing gaze.  She knew that the Kindred were hardly free of sin, just as well as Willow did.  <They are, after all, vampires...> 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Giles,"  Beth smiled and offered her hand.  "Peace?" she asked, trying to demonstrate her maturity.  "It's simply difficult to overcome a lifetime's worth of misconceptions and ingrained hostility against our ancestral enemies."  Looking immensely relieved, Giles eagerly took her hand and shook it.  He beamed, returning her smile. 

"I know exactly what you mean, Mrs. Rosenburg," he replied.  Giles adjusted his glasses again and gestured towards a table.  "Perhaps instead of arguing, we should sit down and discuss our differences.  It has occurred to me that our respective organizations do have much in common."  Giles sent a significant glance towards Willow, who shifted uncomfortably.  "There's no doubt much to be gained if we worked together to accomplish our goals," he finished. 

Beth nodded, thinking.  "You wanted to know why our family has chosen to ally themselves with vampires.? she asked thoughtfully.  Giles bobbed his head in encouragement.  "In this world of Hellmouths and demons, smart individuals choose their protectors carefully, Mr. Giles.  There is but one Slayer.  There are, however, several hundred Kindred." 

The conversation gradually became politer and more productive from that point forward.  Giles and the Rosenburgs finally turned their attentions and energy to trying to find a way to save Angel.  Ideas were tossed back and forth, examined in minute detail, and discarded.  Beth continued to persist in her assertion that she intended to "challenge" Guillaume under Tradition regarding his intentions towards Willow.  Giles carefully curbed his tongue that the best option available was his standard modus operandi, sending Buffy up against the threat. 

For the most part, Willow zoned out.  For her, none of these options jived.  <I'm not going to allow my mother to risk her life challenging Guillaume.  Even if she won, that wouldn't save Angel anyway.  Same with Buffy killing him...  No, I'm the only one who can set Angel free...  I just hope I'm strong enough when the time comes...> 

Then suddenly, out of the blue, Willow's mother pinged her mind telepathically.  In surprise, Willow dragged herself back into the real world.  She dropped her shields enough to permit mental contact with her mother.  <Honey, why is your consort hiding in the stacks?  Is he shy?> 

"Nooo," Willow replied.  "At least, not usually."  She craned her neck and hurriedly scanned the library, searching for signs of Angel lurking nearby.  With her mother's assistance, she located him lurking unobtrusively among the stacks.  He epitomized the concept of Zen, truly being One with the books.  <Poor Angel.  He probably feels uncomfortable walking in on a private conversation.  I wonder where Buffy is.?  Or Xander, for that matter.?> 

"Angel?" she called softly, summoning her lover out of hiding.  No immediate answer returned.  "Come out, please?"  Willow urged, blushing brightly as her parents exchanged knowing smirks.  "My parents don't bite," she promised.  <I hope.> 

After a moment, her ever elusive consort stepped out of the shadows.  His manner was as cautious as that of a mountain lion.  Beth moved slowly towards him, surveying him carefully and thoroughly, like an objet d'art.  Angel shifted, slightly embarrassed at the unabashedly admiring appraisal.  He peered back at her shyly, not saying anything.  Beth's admiration was prolific and enthusiastic.  <Good Lord, Honey!!  He's gorgeous!!> 

Willow had to suppress a smug chuckle.  A moment later, she nearly choked as Angel slipped them both a smugly masculine thought, accompanied by one of his beautiful smiles.  <I heard that, Mrs. Rosenburg...  Thank you.  Permit me to return the compliment...> 

Beth blushed like a school girl.  Then, grinning, she sank into a low grateful curtsy.  "Greetings, Ancestor.  You are welcomed among Family with open arms and hearts."  She offered him the formal, traditional greeting with sincere warmth.  Angel's eyes lit up and the last of his remote reserve melted like ice in the warm spring sun.  "Please, call me Beth, M'Lord," she instructed with an impudent grin.  Beth proffered her hands and Angel took them, leaning forward to steal a kiss.  He was supposed to kiss her cheek, according to custom, but somehow his lips managed to miss. 

"Just Angel, please," he requested softly.  "I stopped standing on formality a long time ago."  Angel grinned, turning on the charm.  It was like watching another person take the place of her quiet, broody lover.  Willow and Giles both gaped, amazed as her mother drew reticent, aloof Angel into an animated conversation.  She sweet talked, cajoled, and charmed him in every way possible.  Before long they were flirting outrageously.  For Willow, it was like an epiphany.  <He's right!  He IS an accomplished speaker...!!!  WOW!!  My mother is amazing...!!> 

Beth wrapped an arm about his elbow proprietarily and escorted him over to meet Ira.  Angel and her parents hit it off immediately.  They swiftly drew him into an incredibly complex and detailed conversation.  Avidly, they discussed Kindred affairs, politics, and just some plain, old-fashioned gossip.  For Angel, it was mostly catch-up.  Giles listened, enraptured.  Willow would have been interested another time, but right now she felt far too hyper to sit still.  She sighed in utter boredom and fidgeted for a while.  <I'm starving...  Geez, I never seem to stop eating anymore...  I wonder if this is how Xander feels...  Speaking of which, I wonder where he is...?  And Buffy...?> 

Mentally, Willow reached out and 'poked' Angel.  His glance turned towards her inquisitively, his attention shifting away from Beth.  Angel pushed the link open in order to facilitate a private exchange.  <Yes, love...?> 

Willow felt her stomach growl again.  Plus, she needed to go to the bathroom.  Additionally, she had ants in the pants and the adults were starting to bore her to tears.  <Where's my Slayer...?  Hmmm...?  Did you misplace her...?  Oh, Angelus, Oh Darling, Oh Dearest...?>  Sweet sarcasm laced her thoughts like bittersweet chocolate. 

Angel snorted softly, pain echoing through the chasm of emptiness in his heart at the reminder.  <Buffy went to the 'little girl's room'.  She was crying, Willow...>  Briefly, Willow experienced a flash of incredible hurt.  She instantly regretted having taken a vituperative tone with him.  His conversation with Buffy had torn the scab off of the festering emotional wound that comprised his breakup with her.  Angel was hurting so badly that Willow whimpered.  They were so absorbed in one another that they failed to notice when the adults' conversation ground to a bumbling halt. 

With no explanation, Angel got up from the table and walked over to her.  Love stronger than either of them drew them into each other's arms.  "How are you?"  Willow whispered softly, as Angel folded her into his arms.  He drew her slight body against his with tender strength and held her close.  Their bodies came together naturally and intimately with a graceful poetry of motion. 

<It hurts...>  Without words, his mind unfurled for her.  He silently let his shields down and let her in.  Willow walked into a battlefield of broken feelings and his maimed heart.  He didn't apologize for his pain over another woman and Willow didn't ask him to.  She simply accepted and loved him.  This encounter with Buffy was as terrible a wound for him as almost killing her had been.  He'd just told the woman he'd worshipped that he loved someone else, that he was committed to someone else.  He'd broken both Buffy's heart and his own, again. 

<It's going to be ok, Angel...  We're going to work this out...>  Willow sent him a soothing wave of reassurance and his lips grazed her forehead with a light kiss of gratitude.  They'd both long since overcome any reservations about taking or giving emotional support from one another.  Angel no longer hesitated to lean on her when he needed her love.  Willow felt exactly the same way, but they both shared the bothersome guilt that Buffy was hurting as deeply and had no one to turn to.  Willow sighed, hating to return to reality, but time was running short.  <I hate to say this, but you should go.  The priests are expecting you, and you made a promise.  I'm going to go take care of Buffy...  When you get back I'm going to break the link...> 

Angel agreed reluctantly.  He didn't bother pointing out that she might not be strong enough to do so.  They'd already discussed this extensively and agreed upon it as their best possible course of action.  "I'll be back," he promised, squeezing her tightly one last time and withdrawing.  With a quick kiss, the link subsided leaving each alone again.  Hastily, they turned back towards the others, only to realize that they had an audience. 

Willow's parents were watching with rapt fascination, wearing silly grins.  Beth was becoming suspiciously misty-eyed.  Even Giles seemed moved.  With a deep sigh, Angel began to make his excuses.  Moments later, he was gone.  Willow stared after him with an empty heart, trying to quell an impending sense of dread and doom.  <Why am I afraid that I'll never see him again...?> 

Minutes later, Willow felt a quiet draw on her mind.  It was an unobtrusive summons.  She was suspicious, but it did not feel hostile.  <I'll just follow it a little ways and see where it goes.  And I need to go to the little girl's room myself.> 

"I'm going to find Buffy," she announced quietly to the room in general.  The adults were so engrossed in conversation that they failed to do more than acknowledge her with a nod, or a quick hand wave.  Willow left the library, following the mental thread.  Surprisingly it led right to the girls' bathroom.  <My, what an interesting "coincidence".  Not that I believe in those any more than Angel does.> 

Willow pushed the bathroom door open.  Inside, Buffy was washing her face in the sink.  She looked up in surprise.  Her eyes were red and puffy and she'd obviously been crying.  The pull became even stronger in here.  "Hey," Buffy greeted Willow.  Absorbed in the telepathic pull, Willow failed to respond promptly.  Buffy's face scrunched up unhappily as she assumed that Willow was angry with her over the incident with Angel.  "Look, I think--" 

She stopped, spying something behind Willow.  Willow spun, feeling a powerful draw pulling her around.  Abruptly, the magical energy present in the room spiked off the Richter scale.  The full length mirror on the wall behind her began to shimmer and the figure of a man appeared within its depths as it transformed into a portal.  "WILLOW, LOOK OUT!" Buffy shouted, leaping forward to shove Willow to safety. Buffy, sensing a vampire, attacked out of reflex.  The image coalesced and Willow recognized the man standing on the other side of the mirror.  <Sean.!!!> 

Sean stood within his office, from where he was apparently casting the spell.  His friendly greeting died on his lips as the ferocious, furious Slayer rushed him. "Buffy wait.!" Willow gasped, events unfolding too rapidly for her to recover her coherency immediately.  Sean made a quick gesture with his hand, turning the portal to nothing more than his reflection.  A moment later, Buffy instinctively buried the stake in the mirror, exactly over where Sean's heart had been.  The mirror shattered into little pieces and Sean's image vanished.  Buffy stood in quiet confusion for a moment, trying to absorb the fact that she'd tried to stake Angel's reflection.  Willow sighed.  <Which Angel doesn't have.  Poor Buffy.> 

"She's certainly quick to violence, isn't she?"  Sean observed mildly, his voice coming from behind the girls.  They spun, to confront Sean's image peering back at them from a half-length mirror above the sink.  This time nothing more than his image was visible.  He wouldn't risk another portal with an irate, violent Slayer present.  "Hello, Willow."  He smiled, charisma and pure sex appeal rolling off of him in waves.  His gaze as it settled on Buffy was less than friendly.  "Is this the Slayer?" he asked, studying her curiously.  "Somehow, I thought she'd be bigger." he commented.  "Muscles and all." 

Buffy puffed up in response to his insolence.  It didn't help that Angel had once said something similar to her when they first met.  "Look you."  she sputtered, brandishing the stake in Sean's general direction.  "Come out of that mirror and say that to my face!"  Buffy postured, giving Sean her deadliest glare.  Willow sighed again.  <Oh goody!  It would figure that Buffy and Sean would be fire and ice.> 

"Thank you, but no thank you," Sean declined with deliberate sarcasm.  "Unlike Angel, I'm not one to offer myself up trustingly to the Slayer's good will."  He smirked, obviously and deliberately gloating over his ability to taunt the Slayer safely from behind a pane of glass.  "Of course, two days ago, I would have been happy to teach you a lesson."  He shrugged philosophically, his manner insolent and aggravating.  Sean at his finest.  "Since you've been 'officially' declared the Clan's most valuable 'natural' resource by Angel and my Grandfather, you're safe." 

"I'm going to put this stake where the sun never shines," Buffy growled, subconsciously echoing Xander's previous sentiments.  Willow shook her head in disbelief at Sean's pettiness.  Within moments of contact, Buffy had somehow reduced a two-hundred-plus year old vampire to the maturity levels of a two-year old.  <Not that Sean was necessarily all that mature to begin with...  Since I don't really know him all that well, I can only guess...> 

Buffy began another retort but Willow beat her to the punch.  "SEAN," she snarled, glaring at Angel's brother.  "CUT IT OUT!"  Her manner was highly reminiscent of Angel's.  It took all of Willow's discipline to curb her temper and keep the word 'crap' from flying off her tongue.  She locked eyes with Sean in what became a stare down for a moment.  "Why_are_you_here?" she asked, carefully enunciating each and every word.  "Tell me what is so important that a phone call wouldn't have sufficed."  Her demand recalled him to the present and restored a semblance of begrudging reason to his expression. 

"This ritual never works on Angel," Sean explained, shrugging.  "I just wanted to talk to one of you in person..." he trailed off, sending her a pathetic, pitiful look that beggared forgiveness for the intrusion.  "Forgive me?  Please?" he coaxed persuasively.  Willow knew damn well it was a carefully crafted act, but she fell for it anyway.  <Sean is nearly as cute and as adorable as Angel in kiss-up mode...> 

Willow didn't miss Buffy's faintly confused expression either.  Buffy absently put her stake away and stepped forward to take a closer, more appraising gander at Sean.  A tiny, evil little part of Willow's mind observed Buffy's appreciative reaction with piqued interest.  <Too bad I can't find some way to set up Sean with...!!>  Hastily, she squished the thought.  <BAD GIRL!!  Buffy's not right for him at all...!!> 

"Go ahead," she urged him gently.  "I'll forgive the intrusion THIS time."  She sent him a stern look.  "But only because you're Family." 

"Yes, ma'am," Sean acknowledged with a ready grin.  He seemed pleased that Willow had finally accepted her heritage.  Swiftly, however, his expression became grim.  "Guillaume's helicopter has left," Sean informed her softly.  His tone was well modulated, but Willow clearly detected the underlying tension.  Sean was afraid for both her and his brother.  "I know that a phone call would have sufficed but I wanted to wish you and Angel..."  he hesitated, uncertain as to how Willow would receive his best wishes.  "Luck."  Good or bad, he did not specify.  Willow didn't hesitate to assume the best this time, instead of the worst.  <I need to start viewing vampires as individuals instead of stereotypical demons...  And Sean has more than proven himself.> 

"Thank you," she replied, injecting warm acceptance into her voice.  "From both of us."  Sean was her ancestor and her lover's <...husband's...?> brother.  Willow embraced her heritage willingly, following in her mother's and father's footsteps.  <I just need to approach this with prudence and exercise some common sense and I should be able to work out some synthesis of cooperation between the Watchers and my Family...  And I finally understand the distinction...  There's 'family' and then there's 'Family'...> 

For a moment, Buffy looked confused as to why Willow would thank Sean on her behalf as well, and for what.  Than, abruptly, she understood; her expression fell.  Even Sean's sharp eyes didn't miss the play of sadness across the Slayer's face.  Sean looked momentarily puzzled, but chose not to comment. 

"I'm really sorry I called you a monster," Willow added hastily, trying to cover for her friend.  "I didn't know any better."  <OH LORD!  I guess Sean doesn't know about Angel and Buffy...!!!  Things get so complex, so fast, when you start hiding stuff from people...> 

"That's ok," Sean dismissed her apology quickly.  "I had it coming," he said with a tight voice.  He looked at her oddly.  They'd already discussed this; apologies and forgiveness had been issued and accepted by both sides.  It didn't make sense to him that she'd bring it up again.  "Take care of my brother, Willow," he bid her softly, his voice cracking slightly.  Willow smiled in silent reply.  "And say hello to your parents for me please?"  Again, she nodded without speaking.  <He's like Angel.  He has a hard time opening up...> 

His emotional display was over almost before it had begun.  Not comfortable with revealing so much of himself, Sean moved on to a less sensitive topic.  "I'll drop you an e-mail next week...?" he inquired tentatively, by way of beginning his farewells.  "Our Family has a website you might like to visit..."  Sean couldn't keep the hope out of his eyes.  He obviously wanted to keep in touch with her, even if Angel perished.  "I could teach you the spells to send an avatar into virtual space..." he offered cautiously. 

"Sure thing!" Willow replied pertly, bouncing.  She'd learned long ago how thorny a certain pair of brothers could be about rejection, real or perceived.  She deliberately hammed up her enthusiasm.  It wasn't hard.  The prospect of virtual reality was deliciously tempting.  Inwardly, she suppressed an internal 'harumph'.  <So much for my theorem on non-Internet savvy vampires...!!>  Acting enthusiastic wasn't that hard, since she was beginning to feel ultra hyper.  Willow utterly missed the odd looks Sean and Buffy were beginning to give her.  "Take care of yourself!" Willow prompted.  She REALLY did need to use the little girl's room for its intended purpose. 

With a quick shake of his head, Sean bid her good-bye and "hung up".  Willow turned back to Buffy and finally noticed the peculiar expression on her face.  <She's looking at me...?>  Quickly, Willow glanced around.  <No one else is here...  Yep, she's looking at me...> 

"Sean's really not so bad once you get past the caginess," she explained cheerfully, still unable to contain the energy surging through her system.  She felt as hyper and exuberant as a little kid.  She almost wanted to go outside and just run.  Buffy didn't look convinced.  "I mean, I know he kidnapped me and everything but he DID give up killing.  Like Angel has."  Buffy blinked.  "Humans," Willow amended hastily.  "You do believe that don't you?" she asked, realizing that she was babbling but unable to stop.  "Cause I've been in his mind and it's true--" 

"Will-!!"  Buffy interrupted, holding up her hands.  "It's not that and I do believe that."  She didn't sound very concerned about it either, which to Willow was good.  <Hopefully, that means that she doesn't hate Angel or fear him or anything.  He was so worried that she'd be disgusted...>  Her thought hiccuped at Buffy's next words.  "It's you," the Slayer said quite pointedly, gesturing towards her friend.  Willow cocked her head slightly.  <Me?>  "Willow, you're GLOWING," Buffy exclaimed, her voice rich with bewilderment.  "Gold." 

"Glowing, as in a 'High-Pro' glow of happiness and good health?"  Willow squeaked, whirling back to the mirror.  The sight that greeted her eyes forced her to gape at her own reflection.  "OH--!!" she gasped.  Quizzically, she moved forward in order to examine her own reflection better.  She was glowing.  Gold.  A hazy gold halo encompassed her body like the sun's corona.  It was faint, but distinctly noticeable.  <Worse than a High-Pro glow...> 

She was surprised for a moment, but recovered immediately.  <It's nothing compared to telepathy and losing my fertility...>  "Oh well," she murmured with a fatalistic shrug.  "I just hope it goes away after the transformation is complete."  Inwardly, she knew this to be another stage in her transformation.  The final one.  Willow had to push aside an upwelling of panic and fear.  Angel wasn't here and Guillaume would be here in less than two hours...  <This is going way faster than it should be...  Angel calculated sometime near two or three am, but it feels like it's happening much quicker...   Oh Angel, please hurry back...!!> 

She turned back to Buffy.  <Now, to the business at hand...>  "Buffy, you and I really need to talk," she informed her best friend gently.  Willow took a deep breath and took the plunge.  "I need to ask you for a really personal favor," she explained.  Buffy began to reply, but Willow stayed her with a light hand.  "I need you to let me scan your thoughts.  I need to see your vision.  The prophetic one with the Phoenix, and the blond vampire, and Angel..."  Willow swallowed.  Her throat was tight and dry.  "The one where I commit suicide."