QUE SERA, SERA (10/?)
 

               Willow looked up when the door opened. She smiled slightly when Xander came
               in, his eyes searching for Cordelia. "She's upstairs. Said she was tired and
               wanted some sleep."
 

               "Damn," Xander said, making a face. "I'm beat myself. I'll see you tomorrow,
               Will. Thanks Dead Boy."
 

               Angel shut the door behind him as he watched Xander take the stairs two at a
               time. He looked at Willow and found himself smiling. "How's Cordy?"
 

               Willow sighed, shrugging, "Who knows? Claims she and Xander are drifting
               apart, but they still seem so much in love."
 

               "He loves her," Angel said, sitting down on the sofa. He glanced at her and
               smiled as she rubbed her feet. "Feet hurt?"
 

               "They're sore," Willow confessed with a slight smile. "Too much walking I
               guess. I loved today, but now my feet are regreting it."
 
 

               "Let me," he said quietly, taking Willow's leg and moving her foot onto his
               upper thigh. He began to massage the soul of her foot as they continued
               talking. "Does she love him?"
 

               "Yes. She's a lot like me," Willow said softly, amazed that she and the May
               Queen had so much in common. "Non-existent parents and no one that really
               ever showed us love. She just wants to be held and cared for."
 

               Angel looked at Willow, seeing the far away look in her eyes as the gentle
               smile crossed her lips. She was so damn beautiful. He knew from the slight
               hitch in her voice that she no longer speaking solely about Cordelia. Willow
               wanted to be held and cared for too. He continued to massage her foot,
               smiling at her wishful look. "And you? What do you want, Willow?"
 

               Willow caught her breath, looking at Angel and becoming mesmerized by the
               darkening look in his eyes. She suddenly became aware of the intimacy of
               their situation. Her foot was in his hands, resting on his upper thigh. His
               long fingers were stroking her gently. She licked her lips, wanting to tear
               her eyes away but finding that she couldn't. Almost as if she were being
               pulled, she felt herself leaning forward on the sofa, moving towards Angel.
               She heard a loud noise as the front door swung open. She jumped, jerking her
               foot from Angel's hands.
 

               "You stupid, arrogant, doofish priss!"
 

               "Please keep the shrill whining down," Wesley said, shutting the door and
               locking it.
 

               "Don't tell me what to do!" Faith said, turning and glaring at her watcher.
               They had finished their meal in silence, their glares their only
               acknowledgement of each other. On the way back, Faith had broached his idea
               that she was still a virgin, giving him detailed descriptions of her previous
               activities. He had just laughed, telling her that they sounded like fanciful
               fiction. She had been so mad at his reluctance to take her seriously that she
               had lashed out verbally, as usual. Instead of rising to the bait, he had
               merely rolled his eyes and ignored her. She hated being ignored. "You're not
               my father!"
 

               "Thank God," Wesley muttered, knowing that his resistance of arguing with her
               was making her more upset than anything he could have said. It delighted him
               to knock her off balance. He had tried all evening to not allow her to read
               him as she usually seemed to do so well. He wasn't sure if it was the change
               of location that was allowing him to actually fight back verbally or if he
               was merely fed up with dealing with her ridicule. Either way, he was planning
               on enjoying her confusion.
 

               "Oh, just shut up!" Faith said, groaning. She turned, smiling sheepishly when
               she saw Willow and Angel sitting in the lounge. "Hey Red, Fang. Excuse me if
               I don't stay. Someone," she glared at Wesley before looking back at them
               innocently, "has given me a terrible headache."
 

               "I'll see you in the morning, Faith," Willow said, fighting the smile that
               was threatening to cross her lips. She watched Faith cast another glare at
               Wesley before she walked up the stairs.
 

               "Miss. Rosenberg. Angel. Good evening," Wesley said, smiling at them both
               before he went up the stairs to get some sleep.
 

               "Why is I'm beginning to feel like the only normal person in this house?"
               Willow asked, laughing softly as she smiled at Angel.
 

               "No comment," Angel said, laughing as she tossed a pillow at him. "Come on.
               You should get some sleep. You had a long day."
 

               "Yes, I did," she said, smiling. She was glad that Faith had come in when she
               had. Otherwise, she might have done something really stupid like kiss Angel.
 

               "I'll escort you to your room, milady," Angel said, offering his arm to her.
 

               "Ah, always such a gentleman," Willow said, taking his arm and walking up the
               stairs.
 

               "Not always," Angel said quietly to himself, wondering if she would find the
               images haunting his mind gentlemanly. Somehow, the term x-rated came to mind.
               He walked Willow to her door, removing his arm from hers almost reluctantly.
               He kissed her forehead, whispering softly, "Sweet dreams, Willow."
 

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