"Time to wake up, Willow."

"Just five more minutes, Mom." This brought a husky male chuckle, which woke Willow faster than
anything else could. She found herself on a bed draped with silken sheets, with Angel looking down
on her.

"That's twice you've mistaken me for your mother. I think I'm hurt." Willow scrambled across the
bed, falling off on the other side. A hand quickly went up to check her neck.

<Nope. No bite marks there.> she confirmed to herself. Angel noticed her check, and laughed again.

"It wouldn't be any fun if you weren't awake," he said in a low drawl. His face was human, and he
didn't appear threatening, but Willow knew better.

"Where am I?" she asked, barely able to keep the tremor from her voice.

"We're in an old bomb shelter. They built this back in the fifties in case of a nuclear attack. It was up
for sale a few years back, so, I bought it and kept it as a safe haven. No windows, one door, nothing
to trace this shelter. In fact, this place now no longer officially exists."

Willow felt her eyes grow wider in shock and disbelief. She then sped out of the room to check for
herself. What she found was a living room that was sparsely furnished, a kitchen and a bathroom.
Angel followed her from the bedroom, a wide smirk on his face. Willow went over to the door and
tried to open it.

"The door's solid steel. Even if it weren't locked, it would be much too heavy for you to open."

"Why am I here?"

"Because I brought you here?" Angel had a real naughty smile at this, as if he was enjoying taunting
her.

"WHY?" Willow yelled, trying to contain her emotions but failing miserably. Fear, anger, surprise and
shock all mingled in a sudden explosive outburst. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded.

"Because it'll hurt Buffy. And that's the name of the game. Now, sit down." Angel's face changed,
and he glowered at Willow. She meekly sat down on the sofa.

<I WON'T LET YOU HURT HER!!! > His damned soul hadn't let up since he'd spied Willow
heading home. It hadn't been his plan to abduct her, but he just couldn't let such a good opportunity
go to waste. He'd owned this bunker since the late seventies, and kept the place up since then. It was
the perfect place to keep Willow.

Of course, now that he had her, he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with her. Her
disappearance would cause Buffy distress, first reason to keep her. However, if he could find a way
to keep her and show Buffy that Willow was somehow in pain, it would be even better. Perhaps he
should drive Willow mad.

<What do you think?> he asked his soul. <Should I drive her mad? Maybe I'll even vamp her
afterwards like I did Dru.>

<I won't let you.> Angel scowled. His soul appeared to be getting stronger over the last few nights.
He didn't like it. He then put it out of his mind. First things first. Confuse her. Disorient her. Make
what had seemed truth to be lies, and lies to be truths. And he was hungry. Perfect.

Willow saw the look in his eyes, and ran. Angel chuckled.

"There's no place to go, Willow. Just give up." She ran into the kitchen, and stared riffling through the
drawers. She came out of the kitchen with a sharp butcher's knife. Angel shook his head. "That won't
help you." He kicked it out of Willow's hand, and she cried out, pulling her injured hand close to her
body. Angel grabbed her and bodily carried her back into the living room, while she struggled in his
arms.

"Come now, Willow. That's not doing you any good. It's just annoying me." Willow heard a 'snap' of
teeth behind her, and quickly became as still as a statue. "Good girl." He sat down in a big armchair
against the far wall, and pulled Willow down on top of him. A hand encircled each wrist, and his
head soon found its way into the crook of her neck. Willow couldn't help shivering, as she felt his
fangs brush her neck. His broad tongue swept across the skin of her throat, as he tasted her. But he
didn't bite. Instead, he lifted one of her wrists to his mouth, and delicately sank his fangs into it.

Willow couldn't believe what she was feeling. Buffy had told her what it had been like to be bitten by
a vampire, but she had said that it was very painful. This, this wasn't like anything she had ever felt
before. She was ENJOYING it. Willow shuddered at the thought. The feel of his mouth on her wrist
at the pulsepoint. The gentle sucking sensation. The feel of his arms around her. It was incredibly
erotic in several ways, but that only made Willow feel sick inside. What was happening? A few
moments later, although for Willow it had felt like eternity, his mouth came away from her wrist, and
he released her. Willow scrambled out of his lap, and practically ran across the room. She turned and
leaned against the far wall, watching Angel watch her. She lifted her wrist to inspect the wound he
had left, and found an inconsequential pair of holes on it. Hardly noticeable at all.

Angel was looking at her with hooded eyes, then he suddenly got up and walked over to the door.

"I have things to do, Slayers to scare. Hope you enjoy your time here."

"You're leaving?"

"What, are you hoping I'd stay?" Willow shook her head so violently it looked like it might fall off if
she wasn't careful. Angel chuckled. "I'll see you tomorrow night. I'm sure I'll be... hungry." He flashed
her a naughty smile, then took a key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door, then grabbed and
HEAVED. Willow could hear the gears working. He got it open enough to slip out, then closed it
again. The key could be heard in the lock on the other side, then silence. Willow was alone. She
curled up on the sofa, and cried.

<What in the devil's name was I doing?> Angel asked himself. He was supposed to scare Willow.
Not... He wasn't even sure what he had been doing. He just knew that he had enjoyed it. Her blood
was one of the sweetest he had ever tasted. Pure ambrosia. He had to take this slow. He didn't want
to drain her all at once. A sip here, a taste there, and her blood would last for weeks, maybe even
months.

He remembered what his soul had said. <I won't let you hurt her.> And he couldn't. His soul had
stopped him. He had wanted to drain her, vamp her, hurt her. But, he hadn't been able to. Instead,
he had been tender. He had wanted to confuse and disorient her, but his plan hadn't included making
her enjoy things. He had originally wanted to make her terrified, but perhaps this way was better.
<Then you can enjoy her for a very long time.> whispered a small voice inside him. <And Willow's
blood will make you strong.> He wondered at this. He did feel energized, even with the small amount
he had taken.

<I WON'T LET YOU HURT HER!> Annoying soul. Kept butting into things that weren't his
business. He tried to analyze 'his' feelings for Willow. What did he feel for her? After all, his soul was
feeling awful protective of her. <I won't let you hurt her.> There it went again. <Friendship?> he
asked himself. <Or some more?> If he followed with the plan of slowly draining Willow, it would be
agony for his soul. And he liked that idea. <Hmmm... Yes, I think I'll will do that,> he decided.

He then put it from his mind, and went to get a full meal, as Willow's blood was more of an appetizer
than the main course. Perhaps he should go back later and get dessert.

"So, you're finally back. Have ye killed her yet?"

"Patience, Spike. Hasn't two centuries taught you patience yet?"

"I have all the bloody patience I need. I'm just waiting to find a dead slayer. You're as bad as
Angelus." Spike practically growled.

"Well, he was the one who hired me, so why are you complaining? He doesn't want her dead yet, he
want her to suffer. Do you understand that concept?" Michelle asked him with saccharine sweetness.
Spike rolled off muttering about deranged Slayers, psychotic vampires, and irritating Eternals.
Michelle rolled her eyes. Still, she was glad that Spike couldn't stand her. She was tired of all the
vampires drooling over her.

She had taken to finding her own accommodations, as she obviously couldn't stay here. She was
staying in some old underground caverns, abandoned, for now. She certainly wasn't sentimental
about them. She wondered what was taking Angel so long to get back. It was close to dawn. He
finally came in about ten before.

"About time you got back. I was about to leave for the day."

"So, did you run into her?" He gave her a lecherous smile, but Michelle could tell that he wasn't very
interested, and breathed a sigh of relief. Most vampires lost interest once the left the room she was in.
However, some vampire had it continue to grow inside them, resulting in them becoming obsessed.
She had to kill those vampires, as they often tried to kill her in a hormone driven rage.

"I did. And she'll be sore for several days. I got in a few good hits to her sides and arms. I also
scratched her up a bit." She extended her claws to examine the caked blood on them. Angel
immediately came over and took her hand in his. He brought it up to his mouth, and licked the dried
blood away. Michelle allowed him to do this, but as soon as he'd gotten most of it, she flexed her
hand, driving her claws into his flesh, making him bleed slightly. Angel jumped back.

"Feeling feisty tonight, are we?" He said as he grinned and carefully touched the cut on his lip.

"Naughty boy." She said, quite seriously. Then she grinned widely. "You know better than to get
close to my claws." She got up closer to him. "I do so like to use them..." she cooed. She then
glanced out of a high window, and sighed. "As much as I'd like to stay, I should go. I'll see you
tomorrow night." And without so much as a 'by your leave', she headed out the door.

"Tomorrow," Angel repeated, already lost in thought. For once, Michelle barely interested him.
Willow was a much more interesting specimen. <Willow sure was tasty, wasn't she?> A wordless
cry of anguish echoed out of his soul.

<I mean, who would have thought. The quiet one usually have understated tastes to them, but she's
also smart. That usually adds a spicy taste. The sweetness could come from her innocence, but I
don't think so. Usually sweetness is just the opposite, that the person has some deep, dark,
dangerous secret. Think I could torture it out of her?>

<I won't let you hurt her.>

<And you're getting very repetitious. It's getting annoying.>

Time to get some sleep. He also mentally reminded himself to go to the grocery store before it closed
tomorrow night. Wouldn't do for Willow to starve to death before he was done with her.

"I mean, who is UP at this hour on a Saturday morning? Besides five year olds and crazies like
Giles?"

Buffy cracked a weak smile at Xander's extremely weak attempt at humor, but her mind was
elsewhere. Specifically on a missing Willow Rosenburg. Buffy couldn't help feeling that her friend
might be dead of Angel's hand.

Buffy went over to her locker to grab her spare stakes, and absently-mindedly reached inside.

"Ow!" she shouted, pulling her injured hand from the locker. She looked inside, and saw several
pieces of sharp glass attached to the sides of her locker. She had driven her hand almost right
through one of them.

Xander quickly grabbed a handkerchief and wrapped it around the deep cut in the palm of her hand,
and applied pressure. Buffy whimpered a little. He shut the door, and they headed for the library.

"Ah, I think I may have found something at last." Giles said to himself rather loudly as the doors to the
library opened. He looked up and saw Buffy approaching with a bloody handkerchief around her
hand. "What happened?"

"Another little gift from Cassandra." Buffy said as she sat down carefully in a chair. Xander once
again found himself heading off to get the first aid kit.

"It might not have been from Cassandra. After all, it could have been put there sometime last night."
Giles unwrapped her hand and examined the gashes in it.

"In my locker? No, this is Cassandra's style." Buffy looked at Giles and grimaced a little. "How bad
is it?"

"It's going to need stitches." Giles took the first aid kit from Xander, and took out the antiseptic, a
needle, and thread.

"Now, what were you saying about finding something?" Buffy asked, stuttering a little as he poured
antiseptic on her wound.

"Yes. There is a sub-classification of elementals called dancers." Giles threaded the needle, and
started to sew Buffy's wound together. "They possess a person, taking over all thought, action,
everything. They use the body until it wears out, as a dancer puts incredible physical toll on a body.
They also have an extreme sensativity to sunlight, as their eyes wear out even faster. They then have
to find another body, and the cycle continues." Giles knotted the end of the thread, cut it, and then
wrapped a fresh bandage around Buffy's hand. "You'll need to be careful during the next day or so,
to avoid tearing open the stitches. It's a good thing it's your left hand and not your right."

"Yeah, good." Buffy put her head into her good hand.

"What is wrong, Buffy?"

"Willow never got home last night," Xander reported. "Her house was dark, and no one answered
the phone when we called, either last night or this morning."

"No clues at all of her whereabouts?"

"Nothing. We checked around her house, and the nearby sidewalks, in case Angel or some other
vamp attacked her, but we didn't find anything. We also called the police, but they hadn't found
anyone matching her description, and they can't start a formal search until twenty-four hours have
passed."

"That's good news, right Giles?" Buffy asked in a small voice.

"Well, it does indicate that it's doubtful that Willow died near her house, but should she have been
attacked elsewhere..." Giles trailed off as he realized what he was saying. Buffy sank even farther into
her chair, as Xander glared at Giles.

"How DARE you say that! Of course Willow's ok! She probably just... got lost, or something." The
last came out rather weakly. Buffy stood.

"I'm going to check out her house again. Xander, you stay here and help Giles learn more about these
Dancers. If I have any hope of winning, I need to know what I'm up against."

She then strode from the library, as if demons were dogging her every step. Xander and Giles looked
at each other, and sighed.

"You take possession, shelf at the back. I'll take demon hunting."

Xander nodded, took one last look at the still swinging doors of the library entrance, then headed off
to do his 'Research Boy' thing.
 

Cassandra was huddled inside her little cage. She didn't know if it was day or night. She never knew
much of anything anymore. She had been kidnapped from her home in Nevada, brought here, and
stuck inside this cage when the demon wasn't using her body. And she didn't even know what the
demon was doing with her body, as she never remembered afterwards. She heard the systematic
clanks that announced her arrival. She shrunk back inside the cage. The dancer, wearing Michelle's
body, smiled unpleasantly at Cassandra.

"Having fun, my dear?" she asked, then laughed and headed towards the bed. She quickly shucked
her clothes, and climbed into bed.

"Sleep tight, my dear. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and we wouldn't want you to be
tired, now would we?" she chuckled again, then snuggled into the soft comforters, and went to sleep.
Cassandra whimpered a little, then tried to get some rest.

Buffy slammed into the library on Monday morning.

"Nothing!" she yelled at Giles. "We have found nothing on Willow. The police have nothing on
Willow. No one has seen her since she left the Bronze Friday night."

"Buffy, you must calm down. There's no need for you to be irrational. We must approach with in an
organized manner. So, there is no word on Willow. Perhaps that is good news in this case?"

"No news is never good news when in comes to Angel. He always loved to hide things. Even
before." Buffy paused, and caught her breath. "I have to get to class. You," she poked her finger at
Giles, "look stuff up. Anything that could help find Willow." She then stomped from the library.

"I do hope this isn't getting to her too badly. She must remain calm against Angel shenanigans, or all is
lost," he said to himself. He shook his head, and tried to think what could be used to help Willow. He
hoped that Willow was all right. However, if Angel did indeed have her, then she should be able to
take care of herself. Giles then headed into the stacks, thinking about Willow's own rather unique
talents.
 

Once in the library, she found an isolated corner, and opened the note. 'Missing someone?' it said.
Buffy closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.

She was missing Willow something fierce, but it wasn't just her. Xander was starting to go nuts,
wondering about his best friend. Giles worried about his protege. Her parents, of course, were
panicking. They had returned sometime last night, to find a bed that hadn't been slept in, and no
Willow.

Ms. Calendar had the added guilt of her best student getting taken probably by the monster she
created. Even Cordelia cared, which was almost something to celebrate, had it been in better
circumstances. And all were wondering how they were going to find Willow. Dead, alive, or as a
monster that would have to be destroyed.

"Buffy?" Xander asked. "What's wrong?" Xander had seen Buffy rush into the library, and had
followed her there. She simply handed the picture and note to Xander. He swore quite violently when
he saw the wounds.

"So, Willow's dead?" Xander asked faintly.

"I don't think so. If he'd killed her, he probably would have left her body somewhere for me to find.
And if he'd vamped her, he would have sent her to attack me. I don't know what he did to her, but I
don't think she's beyond hope yet."

"And that's probably the whole idea." Xander starting swearing again, trying to figure out what he
would do if he got his hands on the vampire.

"Xander. We can't lose hope. Now, we have to figure out where he might be keeping her."

And so, the two brainstormed for hours, completely forgetting about afternoon classes.
 
 

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