Willow had tossed and turned all night. She hadn't been able to sleep. Every time she closed her
eyes, she had seen Angel. The gentle Angel who offered Buffy his jacket. The Angel who had put a
stranglehold on her at school. The one who had come to her bedroom, so worried about Buffy that
he had consulted her. The Angel holding her as he fed from her wrist. She was scared. And she
didn't know what to do. Angel had her captive. And she couldn't escape.

<Don't think like that.> She told herself. <You can figure a way out of this. You're smart,
remember?> This made her feel slightly better. Of course, it would help if she wasn't weak from lack
of food. Angel brought a little something every evening, but it was never enough to last her the day.
At least she could always get water out of the taps.

She decided to think over her options. No windows, one door. Walls of solid stone. Willow guessed
that this place had been blasted out of the rocks, making the walls impenetrable. The door was solid
steel, as Angel had said, and much too heavy for her to move. So, the only way out would be when
Angel opened the door. If she could knock him out, or even kill him when the door was open, she
could escape. The problem was, there wasn't much of a choice in weapons. Angel had taken all the
sharp implements away after she had attacked him with the knife, and there wasn't a single piece of
wood in the place. She could hit him with one of the heavy lamps, but she doubted that would stun
him for long.

Just then, she heard the key grate in the lock. <Impossible.> she thought. <It's around three
o'clock.> Angel had come several times in the last three days, very systematically, once shortly after
dusk, and the other near dawn. He'd take a small 'snack' as he'd called it, taunt her a little, then leave.
It was almost becoming routine. She stood still as a statue in the middle of the living room, as the
door slowly swung open. A man of about Angel's height slipped in, then pushed the door closed. He
had sandy blond hair, and was wearing a T-shirt and worn denim jeans. He turned around, putting his
key into his pocket as he did so, then stopped when he saw Willow.

"Hello," he said, sounding surprised. "I didn't think anybody would be here. Willow continued to
stare at him, not saying anything, not moving a muscle. "Well, I can tell you're a real conversationalist.
My name's Keith, by the way. And you are...?"

"Willow," she finally said quietly.

"Well, hello Willow. A lovely name for a lovely lady. So, what are you doing here?" he asked as he
headed for the kitchen.

"What are you?"

Keith turned back and smiled at Willow. "I keep this place up for Angel. I come by every few years,
clean it, air it out a little, stock the necessities, that sort of thing." He opened the fridge, figuring if a
mortal was here, there would be food. The fridge was bare. Keith frowned.

"I'm here because I'm Angel's lover." This made Keith whirl around.

"You?" Keith said, sounding incredulous. Willow bristled at his tone.

"Yes, me. Why is that so hard to believe?" Willow crossed her arms in an uncompromising position.

"You're just so different from his regulars." He eyes glanced over her form. "You're so little. And so
young." Keith seemed bothered by something. "So, where's Angel?"

"He had to leave. Something about a pressing engagement." Willow shrugged. "He left me a note. I
was asleep at the time."

"So, he just left you here? With no way out?"

"He probably forgot that I wouldn't be able to get out on my own." Keith listened to this as he leaned
against the wall and stared off into space. He then glanced back at Willow.

"Sorry, Willow. Your story just doesn't ring true. The fridge is empty. If Angel really was bringing
you here for romantic trysts, he would have put food in the fridge and pantry. As well," he continued
his prosecution, " there's blood on the wrists of your shirt." Willow looked down, and indeed found
that there were bloodstains there. "Angel never feeds off his lovers. 'Too dangerous', he always told
me. Your clothes look soiled, so you've probably been here at least a few days. And Angel's been in
and out a lot lately. The chains were showing recent wear."

Keith started to pace as he continued. "Angel would have fixed the door if you were really going to
be here a lot." Willow continued to stand stock-still as he stated all of his facts. He then turned to
Willow and asked, "You're his prisoner, aren't you?"

Willow gave a defeated sigh, and nodded. This caused Keith to start swearing, and to punch one of
the walls. He then swore again, and shook out his hands. He then turned back to Willow and smiled
sheepishly.

"I forget these walls are made of rock." He then swore yet again. "Angel reverted back to his former
self, didn't he?" Willow nodded again, and went and sat down on the couch, while Keith continued to
pace. "And he's been feeding off you. Dammit!"

He went over to the armchair, threw himself into it, then pounded his fists on the armrests. He then
looked at Willow. "Why did you lie?"

"Because you're friends with Angel."

"And you wanted out of here. Well, I'm sorry. I can't help you." Keith looked miserable as he said
this. "I owe Angel, and I can't risk disrupting the spell now."

"Spell?" Willow just looked confused at this.

"About thirty years ago, a spell was cast to bind Angel, my wife Mist, and me together, to save
Mist's life. I have to follow Angel's wishes to the 'T' until Mist wakes up from her healing trance,
which is to happen in about four weeks. Until then, if the spell detects even the slightest hint of me
doing something against Angel, it will kill Mist."

"Why?" Willow asked

"Because that's the way it works. It used Angel's strength to restore Mist, so something must be
given back to him. And I'm still bound to him, even if he has lost his soul. I'm sorry."

"Well, you didn't have to make up such a ridiculous story." Willow snapped. "You could have just
said you don't want to help, and left it at that."

Keith was about to respond to this, when a key grated in the lock. Both turned to the door. Time had
passed much more quickly than they had noticed.

Angel pushed the door open, surprised that it had been unlocked. Once inside, he saw Keith sitting
with Willow on the sofa.

"Keith." Angel said in a cool voice.

"Uncle Angel." Keith said, a tremor in his voice. Willow eyes widened at this. Keith went on to
chastise his 'Uncle', but very hesitantly. "Really Uncle, what's this in keeping a girl prisoner, and not
even stocking the refrigerator. You should be ashamed of yourself." Keith grabbed his coat, and
headed for the door, moving quickly. "I'm going to stock the fridge and pantry, as well as bring in
disposable supplies and some books." He then looked at his Uncle. "Is that ok?"

Angel glowered at Keith, but realized that having Keith run errands would make thing less
bothersome for him. To make sure of his loyalty, grabbed Keith by the neck, and pushed him into the
wall.

"You wouldn't dream of betraying me, would you, Keith?" Keith shook his head quickly. "After all,
you wouldn't want Mist to die." He released Keith, then turned to examine Willow. "Get her what
you said, just keep the books to fiction. And get her some clothes. Something befitting a 'banthaly'."
Angel smirked as Keith sighed and agreed. He then went over and looked closely at Willow.

"Size 8?" he asked. "With a size 6 foot?" Willow nodded, surprised. Keith nodded to himself, then
looked back at Angel. "Anything else?" he asked wearily.

"Make sure you get rid of what she's wearing now. Much too dirty." Angel smirked when he thought
of something. "Actually, I want you to put those clothes where Buffy will find them."

"Buffy?"

"Her friend. Put EVERYTHING," he emphasized, "in the Dumpster near the school. And add a little
more blood to them."

"Alright." Keith really didn't appear to like his assignment, but it looked like he was still going to do it.
He turned to Willow. "I should be back around noon tomorrow." He opened the door, and headed
out.

"Don't forget about Mist," Angel called to Keith, as he closed the door behind him, which Angel
promptly locked.

<Well, now, this put a little twist on things.> Angel hadn't seen Keith in a decade, but Keith still
served him, and wouldn't release Willow, so it would be nice to have him take care of the little details
that Willow's confinement brought up. He put a bag of food down on the living room table, then went
over to sit down in the easy chair. He watched Willow with hooded eyes as she fidgeted on the
couch.

"Willow." Willow almost jumped as he said her name. She glanced at him, then looked away.
"Willow," he said again. "Come here."

Willow looked about to bolt; however, she stood reluctantly, and crossed over to Angel. Angel
grinned at this. He liked to think that Willow was becoming as addicted to their little sessions as he
was. As soon as she was in grabbing distance, he took her hand and pulled her into his lap. She
leaned back into him, trembling, and offered him her throat. He lowered his mouth to the vein beating
underneath her lily-white skin. He could feel her essence here. Smell it. Taste it. However, he never
bit here. Much too easy to lose control. And he wanted a lot more of these encounters.

He gently swept his tongue across her throat, teasing, tasting. He then nibbled up to her ear. Willow
both stiffened and trembled in his arms at that, but still said nothing. She never said a word. He gave
the delicate shell a teasing flick with his tongue, then removed his mouth from her ear. He took up the
least injured wrist, and sank his fangs into it. Willow slumped bonelessly against him. <Oh, I love this
part.> The pure ambrosia of Willow's sweet blood. The feel of Willow against him as he fed. It was
like nothing else.

Faintly, he heard voices in the back of his mind, but he ignored them. <Kill her!> a voice said.
<Wouldn't it be more interesting for you to play with her?> asked the other. He just immersed
himself in the joy of the feed.

Although it felt like a lot longer, he only fed for about a minute. He then removed his mouth from her
wrist. And Willow acted as she always did. The moment he released her, she would throw herself off
him, run across the room, lean against the wall, and watch him watch her. She would then inspect the
newest wound on her wrist. Angel sighed.

"I'll have Keith pick up a computer for you. It should give you something to do. I'll also have him pick
some software up. Anything in particular?" <WHAT IN HELL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING!!!>
something screamed from the back of his mind.

"Reference. Games. Office." Willow stuttered out, not believing what she had just heard. Angel gave
a curt nod, and headed for the door. He opened it, and then turned back to Willow.

"Be back for dessert," he said, as he snapped his teeth together. He then closed the door behind him,
and locked it.

<Be back for dessert.> He had taken to saying that when he came the first time, and then he would
say <I'm sure I'll want an appetizer before the main course tomorrow,> when he left the second. All
in all, things were becoming very routine. But, she still wondered why Angel was being so gentle.
And now, his offer to get a computer for her. She didn't know what he was up to, but she hoped it
meant that somehow, Angel was becoming good again.

He was losing control. Each time he took blood from Willow, he could feel it. It was loosening the
demon's hold on this body. But he couldn't stop. He could never stop. He was addicted, as sure as
anything.

<It's time to step up the stakes,> he decided. Buffy would probably be at the Bronze. Time to lure
her out, fight, maybe even kill. And use Michelle as backup.

Angel headed off to their homebase to collect Michelle and supplies. He had yet to decide exactly
what to do to Buffy, but he was sure that Michelle would have some good ideas.

<Maybe tear out her fingernails?> he asked his soul. <You'll never get that close.> Hmmm, his soul
was definitely getting stronger. It had stopped repeating itself all the time. <Alright, I'll tear off her
hands. Maybe keep them as a trophy. It's not everyday one can keep the hands that stroked you.>

<You're sick.> came the reply.

He arrived at the warehouse, and soon found Michelle priming her weapons.

"Getting ready for an assault?" Angel asked.

"As a matter of fact, I am. Want to join me?"

"Against the Slayer?" Michelle nodded. "Of course. I was just coming here to get you for that exact
purpose."

"Perfect." Michelle tossed him a staff and asked, "Do you know how to use that?"

"I used to be quite good. Haven't been practicing a whole lot in the last few decades, but I'm still
decent."

"Great." She handed him a knife and a small gun. "Just to make things interesting," she told him. He
put the gun at the small of his back, and the knife in his sleeve, while her knife went in her boot, with
the gun occupying the same spot as on him. She also had a spray bottle of acid with her.

"Let's go."

The two headed for the Bronze, and a Slayer that was going to be extremely sore, if not dead, once
they were done with her.
 

"Hey!" A young woman stepped up to Xander. "You look a little blue. Want to dance?"

"Sure, why not?" he asked rhetorically. He let the woman lead him away, Buffy finally looked up to
see Xander being led away by fire-woman. She immediately jumped up and followed them out the
door.

Xander was barely aware that he was led outside the Bronze. Only after he felt a strong MALE grip
on him did he come out of his stupor. Angel had him in a deathgrip, and wasn't about to let go. The
woman who had led him from the Bronze leaned against the wall, and waited. Buffy ran from the
Bronze just moments later. The woman then got behind her and put an arm around her neck.

"Don't even think about it, or Xander becomes a chew-toy." Buffy saw Xander in Angel's grip, and
her eyes widened. She really wanted to waste the woman behind her, but she knew that Angel
wouldn't think twice about snapping Xander's neck. "Move, now, or your friend gets it." Michelle
pushed Buffy on ahead of her, keeping a close eye on her, as they headed for an empty warehouse
close to the Bronze, but not so close that screams would be heard.

Once they reached the warehouse, Buffy was shoved forward, and Angel put Xander in a prepared
chair, complete with ropes already attached. It took only moments for Angel to secure Xander so
tightly that he couldn't move a millimeter. He then turned to Buffy and flashed her a killer smile.

"Hello, lover."

Buffy in the meantime, had been trying to do Michelle some damage, but hadn't had much luck. She'd
been in a headlock as Angel had greeted her. She just growled at him. Michelle threw Buffy across
the room, and grabbed her staff from against the wall.

"This is the way it works, Buffy," Angel told her. "We fight, two on one, and whoever wins get
Xander. If you run away, we get Xander. Trust me, after we get done with him, there won't be much
left. Oh, and this is Michelle," he said, as if as an afterthought. "I just thought you should know the
names of your killers."

"What, I don't get any weapons?" she asked, nodding to their staffs. The two looked at each other,
then said "Nope," quite cheerfully. They then attacked.

Buffy spun out of the way, then tried to kick Angel's staff from his hands. Michelle knocked Buffy off
her feet with her staff, and went for a downward swipe as Buffy rolled out of the way. Angel
backhanded her, sending her reeling into Michelle, who sent her right back at Angel. She managed to
avoid running back into Angel, instead sending a powerful spin kick into his face, which knocked him
to the ground.

Michelle came forwards started to spin her staff at such a fast speed that it was barely visible. Angel
had found his feet in a split second, and threw Buffy into Michelle's spinning staff. It hit several times
in her legs, arms and face before its momentum was broken. Buffy was again sent towards the floor.
She got quickly back to her feet, her face already looking bruised. Angel grinned, and punched at
Buffy. She caught his fist, and sent him off his feet. Michelle came up behind her, but Buffy quickly
launched a roundhouse that knocked her off her feet. She then ran for Xander.

Angel got to his feet, and came up behind the Slayer. Xander yelled out a warning, which caused
Buffy to swing around. Angel's staff hit her right in the jaw, knocking her into the far wall,
unconscious. Xander looked sick, as he swallowed heavily. Angel headed over to where Buffy lay,
but he simply took a paper from his pocket, and put it in her bra. Meanwhile, Michelle came over to
Xander, having taken her knife from her boot. Xander looked nervously at the knife, then at
Michelle's face, then back to the knife. Michelle smiled nastily. She took the knife and made a long
but shallow cut along Xander jawbone. She then swept the blood away from the incision with her
tongue. She then made another along his throat, and yet another on his shoulder, each time licking up
the blood that seeped from the wounds. She licked her lips, then looked at the very pale Xander.

"Do you know what I'm going to do next?" she asked. Xander simply shook his head. Michelle
looked over at Angel, who nodded his head. Michelle then took her knife, and slit Xander's bonds.
Xander looked at her with incomprehension. "We don't want her dead yet," she said simply. Angel
and Michelle then left the warehouse. The minute they vanished, he was out of his seat and over
beside Buffy.

Her clothes had been slashed to ribbons, mostly barely hanging on by threads. Her arms and legs
were already bruising, and her face was swollen. There was a cut similar to his along her jawline, as
well.

"Xander," Buffy said weakly.

"Come on, we have to get out of here, Buffy. Are you fit for travel?" Xander was taking off his
overshirt as he said this, and helped her put it on.

"Sure," she said, sounding slightly stronger. They then staggered from the warehouse.
 
 

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