Part Twenty-Two

"Everything," Angel replied honestly before catching himself. "Just tell me
what you can, Willow. Anything about Damion that you think is important."

Willow’s brow furrowed as she considered what to tell Angel, and she
released his hand in order to wrap her arms around herself. Angel watched
the redhead’s actions with concern, his eyes focused on her face. Her eyes
had an almost glazed over look, and the vampire was worried about the woman.
After a moment, however, the redhead visibly shook herself, regaining the
composure that had slipped. Her eyes, once again clear and focused, met
Angel’s.

"He’s a master of disguise," she told him softly. "And I don’t mean that in
a magickal sense. He gets... joy, I guess is the word... from fooling
people. There’s no challenge in it if you use magick," she informed the
vampire, repeating what Damion had told her two years before. She sighed,
covering her face with her hands as she tried to think. She pushed the
thoughts of what had been done to her out of her head, and she tried to
concentrate on ways to help Angel instead of her fear. Fear was a definite
detriment when it came to thinking rationally and coming up with a plan of
attack. "He has everything you can think of: wigs, glasses, contacts, fake
facial hair. He even has women’s clothes."

"Women’s clothes?"

Willow nodded. "He does the cross-dressing thing. I’m pretty sure he’s
actually better at walking in heels than I am."

"What does he look like?"

"For real? I’m not entirely sure. There were times when I thought I was
seeing what he really looked like, but I can’t be sure," the redhead said.

"Just tell me what you can," Angel told her as he reached for her hand
again. Willow entwined her fingers with his and leaned into the vampire,
resting against him. The past day had taken a lot out of her, and she was
exhausted. Angel could sense this, and he released the witch’s hand. He
then took one of the throw pillows off the couch and placed it in his lap,
urging the redhead to lay down. She did so, resting her head on the pillow,
and she began to speak as Angel soothingly stroked her hair.

"His eyes are blue. I’m pretty good at being able to tell if a person’s
wearing contacts or not, and I don’t think he was when his eyes were blue.
He’s not all that tall. Maybe Xander’s height. He’s wiry, but sometimes
his costumes include padded clothing to make him seem bulkier. The
padding’s done really well, too. You can’t even tell it isn’t him."

"Anything else?" Angel asked, his tone low and soothing, almost hypnotic.

"Black hair. I think." Sighing in frustration, Willow pushed herself back
into a sitting position and met Angel’s eyes. "I hate this," she told him.
When the handsome vampire didn’t respond, instead watching her with his
calmly assessing eyes, she continued. "This is stupid. I feel so
helpless." Running her hands through her hair, the redhead stood up and
began to pace across the room. "He’s out there, terrorizing people, and I
can’t even describe the bastard." Willow stopped in mid-stride and turned
to face Angel, her eyes suddenly sad. "I don’t want him hurting anybody
else," she told him in a small voice.

Angel stood and went to her, trailing his hands down her arms. Willow
shivered at the glancing contact, and she stepped closer to the vampire,
seeking the comfort he had so often provided when she was a teenager. Angel
enveloped her in his arms and pulled her close. After a moment, however, he
loosened his hold on her and brought one hand under her chin, forcing her to
look at him.

"What did he do to you, little one?"

Willow bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears, unsure how to explain.
How could Angel understand when there was no chance that he would ever go
through what she had? Angel was strong, but he didn’t have magick running
through him like she did. Damion would never do to Angel what he had done
to her.

Angel watched Willow’s reaction to his question, and he sensed that the
woman was shrinking away from him. His stomach clenched as a terrible
thought entered his mind, and he forced himself to give voice to the
question.

"Did he rape you?"

Willow stepped back, evading Angel as she wrapped her arms around herself
once again, surprised to discover that she was trembling. She shook her
head, denying what Angel had said. "Sometimes I wish he’d done that
instead."

"What do you mean?"

"He... he was inside me. Magickally. It was like he was under my skin. I
could feel him there. He was... probing me... my body, my mind, for
something. My powers, my secrets... I don’t know. But he was there. He
was in me. It was... it was like being invaded by pure evil. And he got
pleasure from it." She closed her eyes, a look of disgust on her face as a
wave of nausea hit her. "Physical pleasure. He got off from it. I felt so
dirty... and violated. It was the worst thing I’ve ever been through. It
made me sick."

"Oh, Willow," Angel said in a voice that was near a  moan as he pulled her
back into his arms. The shaking redhead continued talking, though her words
were muffled against his chest.

"I wouldn’t let anyone touch me for months afterward. My skin felt too
sensitive, like I had a sunburn or something. It hurt to be touched. It
was a side effect of what he did to me. Even after it wore off, I couldn’t
let anyone touch me; I was too scared. I hate being afraid, Angel."

"I know, sweetie," the vampire said into her hair as he rocked her back and
forth. Willow relaxed completely in his embrace, letting herself go for
just a moment. The moment stretched into minutes as Angel stroked her hair
and whispered soothing words to her, all the while trying to control the
part of him that wanted to chase Damion down and rip his heart out. He
couldn’t begin to imagine what Willow had gone through, and he didn’t
particularly want to. He just wanted to make sure it never happened again.
Finally, Willow pushed herself away from Angel. Her eyes were dry, and she
straightened her shoulders, looking more composed than he’d seen her since
he’d arrived.

"This isn’t helping. It feels great to just try to hide away in your arms,
but it won’t do us any good. We have to find Damion, and we have to stop
him before he hurts anyone else."

"How?" Angel asked, surprised by the redhead’s abrupt change in mood. She
had gone from frightened to focused and determined, and he had to admire her
courage.

"My contacts. I know a lot of people out there."

"I don’t want you going anywhere until this is over."

"Then I’ll go online and see what I can find. Most of my contacts have
e-mail anyway. I can also check out newspaper articles and see if there
have been any suspicious deaths. He may not even be in town yet. If we can
figure out where he’s coming from, we may be able to intercept him and put a
stop to this before it even begins. The rest of you can search around town,
see what you can find. I can tell you a few of his favorite costumes, and
you can ask if anyone seen him." Willow paused, waiting to see if Angel
would protest. When he didn’t, she continued. "We have to find him,
Angel."

"I know."

"And then we have to kill him."

Part Twenty-Three

Cordelia sighed and shifted from one foot to the other as she watched Angel
question the owner of the magick shop. She could tell the vampire was
frustrated, and she wondered if she should step forward and remind him that
this was one of the places Willow shopped. She winced as Angel grabbed the
man behind the counter by the collar and pulled him forward so that they
were practically nose to nose. Cordelia turned away from the scene, trying
not to smile. Too late for any friendly reminders now. Of course, Cordy
reasoned, Willow didn’t particularly like this store anyway. She thought
the owner was a jerk. The brunette jumped slightly as she heard a punch
land behind her.

Apparently, Angel thought the guy was a jerk, too.

A few minutes later, the vampire came out to meet the brunette, who merely
raised her eyebrows at him.

"What?" Angel asked. "He pissed me off."

"You can’t hit everybody who doesn’t have any useful information."

"He made a comment about Willow’s ass."

"Oh, well, then you can hit him all you want."

Angel sent a bemused look Cordelia’s way, then continued on his way. He and
the brunette had discussed their problems, and they had come to a tentative
truce, although Angel was still a bit upset that he hadn’t been told up
front that the vision had involved Willow, and Cordelia was still mad that
Angel had yelled at her over it. She had, however, let go of her anger over
what the vampire had said to Willow all those years ago. She figured if
Willow was over it, then she should be, too. With a sigh that was basically
an extremely annoyed outlet of air, Cordelia quickened her pace in order to
catch up with the vampire.

"How many more places do we have to go to?"

Angel consulted the list Willow had given him, mentally checking off the
places they had already been to. "Three."

"Good, because my feet are killing me."

"Then next time don’t wear heels."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Graham stood in the corner of the living room, watching Amy intently. The
blonde witch didn’t even seem to know he was there, and that merely served
to increase his worry for the woman. Since finding out Damion was back, she
had shed only minimal tears, and she had barely eaten or spoken, instead
retreating in on herself. Amy hadn’t seemed this far removed from things
since Forrest had been killed. Graham winced at the memory of his friend,
and the horrible way he had died.

Sighing, Graham left the room, headed for the kitchen to get some coffee.
At Willow’s suggestion, he had gone home, taking Amy with him. The man
agreed that the blonde needed a change of scenery, and he wondered if Willow
would have benefited from it as well. She had stayed behind at the house
she shared with Amy, and he had hated leaving her alone. Graham looked at
the phone on the wall for a moment, contemplating whether or not to call and
check on Willow. After a few seconds, he shook his head, deciding against
it. He knew Willow had intended to work online, and he figured he’d simply
get a busy signal.

Sighing once again, Graham picked up his coffee and headed back to the
living room, trying to figure out what to do about Amy.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Willow pushed her long hair off her face and pulled it into a ponytail as
she waited for the screen to change. She had sent e-mails to all of her
contacts, and she had called several others. Now all she had to do was wait
for responses.

She hated waiting.

With a slight smile, Willow went to her addresses and found Kate
Wyndham-Pryce’s e-mail address, then settled back to type a note to her
friend.

‘Kate-

Hi. I’m sure you know at least part of what’s going on here now, what with
Angel being your boss and all. He and Cordelia are out looking for Damion
right now - I told you a bit about him... Do you remember? He’s the bastard
who killed Forrest, and he’s back. I really don’t want to say much about it
(just thinking of Damion makes me ill), but here’s the deal. I know
Cordelia faxed that the vision was just about Amy, but it was actually about
me, too, which is why I’m sitting here typing a letter to you instead of out
there helping. Angel has me under house arrest.

Speaking of Angel... well, he’s here. And we talked. Actually, there was
some yelling and screaming and tears, but talking happened, too. Things are
better now. We’ve reached an understanding, and we’re friends now. Or
something like friends. He says he loves me. God, Kate, he says he’s loved
me since that whole thing happened five years ago, and I don’t know what to
say to that.

I know what you’re thinking, by the way. We’ve been friends for far too
long for me not to know. You’re thinking about how I once told you I loved
Angel, and you’re thinking I should jump his bones. (And considering how
blunt you’ve become since the whole pregnancy thing, I’m pretty damn sure
you’d say in just about the way I did.) And I do want to jump his bones. I
mean... look at him. But I’m scared. He’s hurt me before, and... well,
let’s not get into that. Besides, now’s not the time. There’s way too much
to worry about already without complicating things further with my feelings
for Angel (which, admittedly, do still exist. Damn vampire. Why can’t I
get him out of my head?)

Anyway, now that Angel and I are once again on speaking terms, I was
thinking about coming to visit. Say... when the baby’s born? I’d loved to
see you again, and I want to see just how dear old Wesley’s changed over the
past five years.

Speaking of changes... Angel seemed surprised by the changes that have
happened over the past few years. He knew nothing about Forrest... or
Graham and Cordelia... or even Damion. I’m guessing he has no idea that
you’ve kept in touch with both me and Cordy...

I’ve got to go now. I’m waiting for some people to get back to me with
information on Damion.

Take care of yourself (and Wesley, too, of course),

Willow’

Smiling, the redhead hit the send button, then sat up straight when she
heard a scratching at the door. She cocked her head, listening, then cursed
quietly.

"Damn it, Graham," she muttered. "You let Sky out again, didn’t you?" she
said, referring to her calico cat. The creature was always getting out,
usually by shooting past anyone who opened the door. She knew the cat had
still been there when Angel left, so she figured it had to be Graham that
had accidentally let her out.

Willow headed down the hall, muttering under her breath about obnoxious
felines. With an angry looked on her face, she reached for the door.

"Why is it that you always want out, then want right back in?" she asked as
she opened the door.

The cat didn’t answer. It couldn’t, because it was dead.

Willow screamed at the sight of her mangled cat and stepped back, moaning
"no, no" over and over again. She continues her backward movement until she
ran into something solid.

Something human.

"Hello, Willow," the man behind her said.

Willow’s world grew fuzzy, and the room seemed to spin. Then everything
faded to gray, and finally, she slumped to the ground as the world turned
black.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Angel felt Cordelia grip his arm, and he turned a questioning glance on the
woman.

"Vision," she gasped. "Help me."

He caught her before she could hit the ground.

Part Twenty-Four

Angel burst through the open front door while Cordelia, still feeling the
effects of her vision, staggered several steps behind him.

"Willow!" the vampire virtually bellowed as he searched frantically around
him. There was no sign of a struggle, but the vision Cordy had described to
him hadn’t involved one. All the brunette had been able to tell him was
that Damion was there - she could feel his presence - and Willow had been in
the vision as well. "Willow!" he yelled again, an edge of panic lacing his
voice.

"Oh, God," Cordelia gasped as she fell to her knees on the front porch.
"Sky."

Angel whirled around and looked at what had the brunette’s attention,
immediately sorry he had turned. Willow’s beautiful cat was lying there,
mangled and clearly dead.

"That son of a bitch killed her cat," the vampire growled viciously,
wondering in the back of his mind why he hadn’t been able to smell the
blood. He got his answer mere seconds later.

Cordelia had lifted her head to stare at Angel, and her eyes widened as she
caught some movement behind him. Her jaw dropped open and she pointed a
shaky hand at the area above the vampire’s shoulder. "Angel, look behind
you," she told him in a small voice.

The vampire immediately spun around, braced for either an attack or some new
gruesome sight. He was stunned by what he saw.

A lovely, fluffy, and very much alive calico cat sat on the banister, calmly
watching Angel and Cordelia with only mildly curious eyes.

"Does Willow happen to have two identical cats?" Angel asked, his eyes going
back and forth from the deceased cat on the porch to the living cat in the
house.

"No, she doesn’t," Cordelia informed him. Taking a deep breath and trying
to force away the nausea that threatened her, the woman reached out a hand
and poked the feline corpse.

Or, at least, she tried to.

Her hand went through the cat, and Cordelia gasped as the body flickered,
then disappeared as she and Angel watched. Her curiosity piqued, Sky hopped
down off the banister and went to where the double had lain, sniffing the
area. Cordelia absently ran her hand over the very solid - and extremely
alive - creature, eliciting a contented purr from the cat.

"Magick," the brunette finally said after a moment. "The bastard used
magick in order to get her out here."

Angel nodded numbly, all at once furious at Damion, relieved about the cat,
and terrified for Willow. Dear Lord, he couldn’t lose her now. He wouldn’t
allow it.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.

"The others," the vampire finally managed to say, forcing himself to ignore
methods of revenge - at least for the time being - and focus on ways to
find the woman he loved. How - where would they be?"

Cordelia staggered into a standing position, taking Sky with her. Now that
she knew Willow’s prized possession was indeed alive, she wasn’t going to
allow anything to change that, and she certainly wasn’t going to allow the
curious feline to escape as she often did. If Cordelia had her way, Sky was
going to be sitting on Willow’s bed - awake - when they brought the redhead
home.

If they brought her home.

Shaking her head to push off such thoughts, the brunette handed Sky to Angel
as a new wave of nausea hit her, and she raised her hand to her head.
Immediately, the vampire pulled the woman inside the house, shutting the
door behind him before releasing the cat. He led Cordelia into the kitchen
and handed her a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"What’s your phone number?" Angel asked as he picked up the phone. Cordelia
rattled a number off, and Angel punched it in as she spoke. The phone was
answered on the first ring.

"Willow? Is that you?" a decidedly male voice asked, worry evident in his
tone.

"It’s Angel. This is Graham, right?"

"Yeah. Did you find something?"

"Is Amy with you?" the vampire asked, completely ignoring the other man’s
question.

"Yeah, she’s here."

"Good. At least she’s safe." Angel had to pause for a moment before he
could continue. "Damion has Willow."

"Oh, my God. I should have made her come with me. Or I should have stayed
there until she was done with her work."

"Well, you can’t go back and change things. There’s only one thing you can
do now."

"And what’s that?"

"Get your ass over here so we can work out a plan and go after Willow.
Bring Amy with you," the vampire instructed before hanging up.

"We’re going to find her, Angel," Cordelia told him, trying to be
optimistic.

"We better."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

It was cold. And dark. Very, very dark. Only the soft glow of a few
candles lit the dingy room. Willow cringed at the feel of cold rock under
her. Her clothes were thin and offered very little protection. The redhead
moaned slowly as everything came back to her.

Damion.

He had come and taken her. He’d been in her house, standing right behind
her... and he had killed her cat.

The redhead took a gasping breath as she tried not to retch at the thought
of her beautiful cat’s death. She loved that feline... and now it was gone.
Willow bit her lip to keep the sob that threatened from escaping.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? It looks like somebody’s awake."
The voice came from the darkness, soft and silky, causing Willow to give an
uncontrollable shiver. The one thing she hadn’t told Angel - the one thing
she had known she wouldn’t be able to explain - was Damion’s voice. He
could change it as easily as he could change his appearance, but Willow
could still always tell it was him. It was the only voice she had ever
heard that actually seemed to hold pure evil.

Damion stepped closer, coming into the light. His black hair gleamed in the
candlelight, and his blue eyes sparkled. If he hadn’t been an evil,
murderous bastard, he would have actually been extremely attractive.

"What, Willow? No screaming? No pleading for your life?"

The redhead simply turned a stony expression on him, refusing to give him
what he wanted. He stepped closer, trailing his hand up her arm. She
flinched slightly but refused to shrink away. She knew she couldn’t anyway.
She could feel the magickal bonds that surrounded her, and she was bound
very tightly.

"Oh, well, this is no fun. I do so like the screaming." With a sadistic
smile, the man pulled out a knife with an extremely sharp blade. "How about
if I use this? Will you scream for me then?"

Willow met his eyes, refusing to be the begging, tormented creature she had
become the last time Damion had captured her. She thought about Sky, her
poor cat, and hardened herself. She thought about what her capture and
probable death would do to her friends: Cordelia, Graham, Amy. And Angel.
Dear God, poor Angel. He said he loved her. How would he handle her death?
The redhead steeled herself. She wouldn’t give the man in front of her the
satisfaction of making her beg.

"Damion?" she said, her sugary sweet tone laced with venom. "Go to Hell."

Part Twenty-Five

Graham watched in silence - and what he considered to be a slightly sick
fascination - as Angel stalked around the room, a low, continuous growl
emanating from the vampire. He had been behaving this way since Graham and
Amy had arrived ten minutes earlier, and he showed no signs of stopping.
Graham hated to admit it, but he was intrigued by the flicker of gold that
periodically marred the vampire’s eyes as the demon worked itself into a
pissed off frenzy. The only other vampire Graham had spent much time around
was Spike, and he was currently off in Paris, doing only Satan knows what.
Besides that, Spike was neutered (as the others put it), and therefore
seemed about as dangerous as fly most of the time. Angel, on the other
hand, could do some serious damage to the human race if he set his mind to
it, and he wouldn’t suffer a nasty headache afterwards.

"We have to find her," Angel growled. "We have to get her away from that
bastard."

"Don’t you think I know that?" Cordelia asked, concern making her voice
harsher than normal. "Don’t you think I wish that I could just order up a
nice, skull-cracking vision that would tell me where we can find her? But I
can’t, which means that the bastard has her, and we have no idea how to find
her," the brunette finished, sounding perilously close to tears.

"A locator spell," Amy said softly, her voice unsure.

"What?" Angel asked, whirling around to face her. The blonde witch jumped
at the sudden movement, and her eyes widened at the flash of violence in
Angel’s eyes. She had to remind herself that the vampire’s anger was
directed at Damion rather than at her.

"I, um... I could do, uh, a locator spell," she stammered. "You know, to,
uh, find out where they are."

"Why didn’t we do one when we first found out Damion was after you two?"
Graham asked. He considered Amy and Willow two of his closest friends - he
adored both women and thought of them as sisters - but he knew very little
about the witchcraft that the they practiced. He did, however, trust their
skill in magick, and he knew that it had saved his life on more than one
occasion. Even so, he had never studied it himself. Cordelia, on the other
hand, had studied it enough to know the basics, and she answered Graham’s
question."We couldn’t. To do a locator spell, you have to have something
that belongs to the person you’re trying to find. We don’t have anything of
Damion’s. We have a ton of things that belong to Willow, though."

"Do you have all the ingredients for the spell?" Angel asked evenly, his
eyes trained on Amy. The blonde witch nodded, her eyes still unnaturally
wide. "Tell me where they are, and I’ll go get them."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"You little bitch," Damion spat out as he grabbed Willow by the hair,
causing her to wince, although she refused to scream. "Go to Hell, you tell
me? Oh, Princess, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll wish you were in
Hell."

"Anything as long as I don’t have to look at you," Willow said through
clenched teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously as the rage she had kept
subdued for years - the rage that was so often overshadowed by the terror
she felt when Damion was mentioned - bubbled to the surface. She thought of
all that she and her friends had gone through at Damion’s hands: the
beatings, the magickal invasions, Damion’s sick preoccupation with knives.
Forrest’s brutal murder. Dear God, how it hurt to think about Forrest. The
rage and pain flared dangerously, and Willow finally gave into it, lashing
out in the only way she knew how. The only way that was available, given
the fact that she was held down with invisible bonds.

She attacked him magickally.

Willow sent a flash of power directly at Damion, a wave of magick that
exploded right in Damion’s face and momentarily blinded the man. He
released his hold on her hair immediately, dropping his knife as well, as he
staggered back and covered his face with his hands.

Fury bombarded him at her audacity (how dare she attack him), but at the
same time he was oddly pleased, though he wouldn’t allow her to become aware
of that fact. She was a fighter, the little redheaded bitch. Of that there
was no doubt. She was also far more powerful than she was a mere two years
earlier. It would be fun to break her again, to make her sob and writhe and
scream as she had done before. It was always more fun when it was a
challenge. It was always so much more fulfilling when the victim fought
back. Of course, he would still win. He always did. Oh, and the fun he
would have when he drained her of her powers; the fun he would have as he
watched her struggles fade, and she went into her eternal sleep. The fun he
would have when he danced on her grave, knowing she was dead because of him.
Knowing he had triumphed again. It would be worth all the trouble she
caused in the end. But right now, he was in pain. And that made him a very
pissed off bad guy.

"You little bitch!" he cried out as he lunged for her.

"You’re repeating yourself," Willow said scoldingly as he grabbed her hair
once again. "You already called me that."

"Shut up!" he cried out, his fury tripling at her reaction to him. He
wanted her to have spunk, sure, that was what made it more fun. But this
apparent obliviousness to the fact that he could easily obliterate her only
angered him more. Of course, he had no idea that Willow was aiming for just
precisely that effect.

Willow was a witch. She had been since she was seventeen, and now that she
was twenty-four, she was really quite powerful. Much of her power had been
gained from the intense training she had forced herself to go through after
Forrest’s untimely death. She had promised herself that never again would
she be kept from saving one of her friends because of magick. She had, in
fact, learned counterspells for almost every barricading spell there was,
including the one Damion had used to prevent them from reaching Forrest.
However, Willow was more than just a witch. She was a damn smart one, and
she knew it took emotional control to maintain a spell.

Emotional control that Damion didn’t currently possess.

With a saccharine-sweet smile, the redhead met Damion’s eyes. "Don’t touch
me," she said sweetly, before lifting her arms and shoving him away from
her. Willow rolled to her feet and stared at the man before her. Damion’s
eyes were wide with shock.

She had broken free of the magickal restraints he had used on her.

"I’ll kill you for this," Damion promised as his eyes began to glow.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Did it work?" Angel asked as Amy and Cordelia came out of the kitchen.
Because the women needed to be able to concentrate on the spell in order for
it to work, the vampire had left the room, knowing his pacing (which he
couldn’t seem to stop doing) would be a distraction.

Cordelia nodded slightly, a tiny smile coming to her lips. "We know where
Willow is."

"Then let’s go get her."

Part Twenty-Six

Damion’s eyes continued to glow brightly, then melted into terrifying liquid
pools that were so dark that they appeared black as the power he was
gathering continued to build. The blackness took up the entire eye,
encompassing both the pupil and the iris, even the whites of his eyes had
been completely overtaken. He smiled grimly as he felt the power reach an
almost critical within him. And then, Damion just let go.

Willow had braced herself for the blow, but it wasn’t enough. She had known
it wouldn’t be. No matter how powerful she had managed to become, Damion
was still far more powerful, and it would always be that way. Damion had
the power of the witches he had captured, drained, and killed to make sure
of that. Willow cringed as the wave of magick went through her, forcing her
to slam into the stone wall of the dungeon they were in.

Her vision blurred momentarily as her head hit the hard stone, and she saw
stars. Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She
wouldn’t give him her tears. The redhead slumped halfway to the ground
before she caught herself and forced her bruised body back into an upright
position. She wasn’t going to slump down and cower in the corner. As she
stood, she saw that he was getting ready for another round, and she had to
suppress a groan.

This was going to hurt like Hell.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Angel was stalking down the street, his pace so brisk that the others
practically had to run to keep up. People on the sidewalk glared at him as
he passed them, occasionally jostling them in his haste. Several women sent
what they thought to be alluring smiles in the handsome vampire’s direction,
but he completely ignored them. The only thing on his mind was Willow.

He had to find her. He had to save her. And then he was never going to let
her out of his sight again.

"Damn it! We don’t have to go so fast!" Cordelia said as she struggled to
match the vampire’s pace, her legs moving quickly in order to make up for
the fact that her stride wasn’t nearly as long as his. The brunette was
limping slightly on the ankle that she’d turned two blocks back, which
caused her movements to be a bit awkward. The part of town they were in was
notorious for its traffic, and it had been decided that they could get to
where Damion had taken Willow faster if they walked, but Cordelia was
beginning to regret that decision. However, given the bumper to bumper
traffic that they had been walking alongside, the brunette knew that they
had been right, and they would get to Willow more quickly this way. Besides
that, if they had driven, Angel would have been a prime candidate for road
rage. He was still a pretty prime candidate, even though he wasn’t in a
car. The tension was rolling off him in waves, and he still let out an
occasional growl when someone walked too close to him.

"The faster I walk, the faster I get to Willow," Angel explained in an
annoyed voice.

"We walk, Angel. The faster WE walk, the faster WE get to Willow."

"You’re not going in there," Angel said as he came to a stop, turning to
face Cordelia. "At least, not until things are under control."

"Excuse me?" the former cheerleader said shrilly.

"Correct me if I’m wrong: this guy is extremely dangerous, and he wants
Willow for her power, right?"

"Right."

"Then you’re expendable to him. So is Graham. It would be too dangerous
for either of you to go in. Amy would be seen as another potential victim
for him and therefore be in less immediate danger, but she’s too much of a
basket case to be of any help."

"You’re not exactly a powerful witch yourself," Cordelia reminded him.

"No, but I am a vampire. I have strength and speed on my side, especially
if Damion doesn’t know what I am, or if he realizes it too late."

"And if he figures it out before you want him to?"

"Then I guess I’m dead. But I’ll make sure to take him with me."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Willow threw herself to the ground as Damion sent a bolt of energy in her
direction, praying that it would miss as she covered her head in an effort
to protect herself. The bolt of energy hit the wall directly above her
head, leaving a rather large, charred dent in the stone. The redhead winced
as a few chunks of rock tumbled down on top of her, then she forced herself
back to her feet, trying not to look at the wall. She didn’t want to think
about what would have happened if the bolt had hit her instead.

"Your aim sucks," Willow informed the furious man - could someone so evil
truly be only a man? - that was standing not twenty feet away from her. She
could sense that he was on the verge of losing it completely, and she wanted
to witness that particular anomaly. Damion was always in control. He
prided himself on it.

"I’ll kill you," he promised, his eyes rapidly changing from blue to green
to red. Willow raised her eyebrows at the display. Maybe he didn’t use
contacts when he was in disguise.

"You told me that before," Willow returned smartly (or not so smartly,
depending on how one looked at it). "I’m really getting sick of how you
keep repeating yourself. You wouldn’t be getting senile, by any chance?"

"That does it!" the man shouted, lunging at the witch who was the cause of
all his anger.

He grabbed her by the throat, slamming her into the stone wall. Willow
lashed out, kicking him in the knee and causing him to stumble.

"I’m not just going to lay down and die, Damion," she warned him
dangerously. "This time, you’re going to have to work for it."

Damion grabbed her by the legs, sending her sprawling. Grinning wickedly,
he crawled up her body and a knife materialized in his hand. "I may have to
work for it," he conceded. "But you’re still going to die." He lifted the
knife as he lay on top of her, breathing into her face. The blade was
poised between them.

"Don’t be too sure of that," Willow said, concentrating on the knife.
Damion yelped as the blade suddenly bent backwards at an impossible angle,
cutting into his cheek. The enraged man backhanded Willow, jerking her head
to the side as his blood rolled down his face. His blood. Never before had
a victim drawn blood.

He jerked Willow to her feet, tossing her into the wall yet again. That
particular method of attack was getting old. And painful. The redhead
groaned, knowing she would be one big bruise if she somehow managed to
survive this encounter. Damion wrapped his hand around her delicate throat,
completely encircling it with his large hand. He squeezed harshly, causing
Willow to gasp. She couldn’t fight back if she couldn’t breathe.

"It’s over, Willow. I’ve won. And you’re going to die."

"Let go of her now," an angry voice demanded from the shadows.

Part Twenty-Seven

Damion’s grip on the redheaded witch’s throat loosened slightly as he turned
his head to face the intruder. Willow managed to take a gasping breath
before the man remembered himself and readjusted his grip, making it as
painful as possible for the woman. His gaze, however, was still trained on
the unexpected guest.

Angel.

He looked dangerous - even more so than usual - in his black leather pants,
black silk shirt, and black duster, his face set and angry. Damion felt a
chill of trepidation, then mentally shook himself. As dangerous as this man
appeared, he was still simply that. A man. And Damion could easily destroy
a man if it came down to it. It was less satisfying than going after a
witch, but he would do it if he had to.

"Leave now," he advised in a steely voice. He turned his attention back to
the pale redhead in front of him, adjusting the grip on her throat just
briefly, teasingly allow her to get a gulp of air.

"Angel!" she cried out in a strangled voice, managing nothing more before
Damion once again cut off her air.

"Angel, is it?" Damion asked. "Interesting name. Very manly. Now, Angel,
I think it’s lovely that you want to rescue this little bitch, but I really
must tell you that it would be in your best interest to go. I already
intend to kill this delightful little witch, as I’m sure you well know.
However, if you refuse to leave, I will be forced to orchestrated your
demise as well," he informed Angel rather congenially. He sounded downright
happy to be ridding the world of Willow.

Angel had to take a deep breath - albeit an unnecessary one - in order to
calm himself enough to speak. It took all his self-control not to let out a
feral growl and attack the man. Unfortunately, he knew that Damion would
still have the time to kill Willow before he reached him, and Angel couldn’t
allow that to happen. He had to get Damion to release Willow before he went
after him. He had to get Damion to attack him first.

"I said let her go," Angel said, his voice as cold as ice.

"I heard you. I’m obviously refusing your request. Now go."

"It wasn’t a request," Angel returned, his voice growing even colder. If
Damion had been facing the vampire, he would have seen the flash of gold in
his eyes. However, the warlock’s attention was completely focused on
Willow, and he missed the telltale sign that his opponent was not quite
human.

"I said leave. Unless, of course, you want to see your friend die."

"You’re not my friend. And you’re the one that’s going to die. I guarantee
that. The only question is as to how I’m going to kill you." Angel paused
as though he was contemplating his options. In reality, he was trying to
control the urge to strike. The urge to go after the man was almost
overwhelming, but Willow’s position was far too precarious for him to risk
it, especially since he was fairly certain that he was far enough in
Damion’s peripheral vision for the man to see any attack. After taking a
moment to gather himself, Angel continued with his threat on the warlock.
"If you let her go now, I’ll make your death quick. It would be over before
you could blink an eye. If you don’t, however, I’ll keep you alive while I
rip you to pieces. I’m thinking I’ll rip your liver out through your nose,
and maybe I’ll force you to eat your own testicles. It’s been a while since
I’ve actually tortured anybody, but I’m sure I remember a thing or two."

"You have no idea who you’re dealing with," Damion snarled as he turned his
head to face Angel. The man’s obvious assumption that he could take the
warlock infuriated him.

"Oh, I know exactly who I’m dealing with," Angel assured him in a silky
voice. "I’m afraid it’s you who is in the dark, so to speak."

That was it. Damion had had it with this man’s insolence. Not only had he
dared to threaten him, he did so while claiming that he knew what Damion
was. No one had ever done that before. With an infuriated and rather
inarticulate sound, the warlock flung Willow away from him and turned to
face the man who possessed the audacity to threaten him. He prepared to
blast the man with a burst of magick - he knew he could kill him with only
one blast, but had already decided to draw it out as long as possible (the
insolent jerk deserved to suffer) - and smiled as he sent the bolt in
Angel’s direction.

Angel ducked, barely escaping the blast. As it was, his arm was hit with a
glancing blow, but Angel felt no pain. He wasn’t sure if it was simply
because he was pissed, or if it was because the protection spell Amy had
insisted on casting before allowing him to go after Willow was working.

Damion’s eyes widened as he saw that Angel had hardly been hit with the
bolt, and he resolutely began to concentrate on another attack, only to find
himself in much the same position that he’d had Willow in only a second or
two before. Damion gasped as Angel’s arm tightened across his throat; the
man moved far too quickly to be normal. Damion looked up at his attacker,
and his eyes widened as he found himself staring into the demonic visage of
a vampire.

"Next time, find out who you’re dealing with before you get cocky," Angel
advised him, before smiling cruelly and amending, "Oh, that’s right. I
forgot. There won’t be a next time for you."

Damion struggled against the vampire’s hold only to have Angel swing him
around by the arm as he knocked the warlock’s feet out from under him.
Damion hit the ground with a groan, not used to being on the receiving end
of a blow. He moaned as Angel slammed his foot down on his shoulder, then
outright screamed as Angel jerked on his arm fiercely, dislocating his
shoulder. Growling, Angel lifted his foot and yanked the other man to his
feet, causing him to scream in agony.

"Not so tough now, are you?" the vampire taunted as he smashed his foot into
Damion’s kneecap, grunting when he heard the satisfying sound of bones
shattering. He then flung Damion into the wall head first. He gripped the
man, who was now sobbing, by the hair and pulled him to his feet, prepared
to work him over for at least another hour or two before allowing him the
peace of death. However, a movement caught his eye.

Willow.

The redhead was still sitting where Damion had thrown her, and she was
shaking violently as the events of the day finally took their toll. Even
from a distance, Angel could see the bruises that marred her pale skin.

Sighing, Angel came to a decision. He altered his grip on Damion’s head
slightly and looked into the man’s eyes. Then, he twisted his neck
violently, breaking it so severely that the warlock’s head nearly detached
from his body. Angel released the now deceased man, leaving him to fall
unceremoniously to the floor as the vampire walked towards Willow.

When he reached the trembling redhead, Angel fell to his knees beside her
and enveloped her in his arms. "It’s over, sweetie," he told her as he
rocked her gently. "He can’t hurt you anymore."

Willow burrowed even further into his arms, pressing as close as she could.
She didn’t even seem to notice when Angel shifted her in his arms in order
to stand. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the vampire, she
spoke. "Angel," she said in a small, tired voice that was obviously
hampered by the vicious grip Damion had used on her throat.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Will you take me home now?"

Part Twenty-Eight

Willow burrowed deeper into Angel’s arms, allowing him to carry without
protest. Just a few days ago, she would have kicked and screamed and forced
the vampire to put her down. Obviously, things had changed. Now, she
wanted nothing more than to remain in Angel’s arms indefinitely. Forever
sounded like a pretty damn good amount of time. Willow sent a cautious
glance up at the vampire, who was still in his demonic visage. Carefully,
she lifted one arm from around his neck and gently caressed the ridges on
his forehead. The vampire leaned into the caress for a moment before
looking down at the redhead he loved and allowing his demon face to slide
back into hiding.

"We need to talk," Willow told him softly, her voice still straining because
of the injury to her throat.

"Let’s get you home first," Angel replied. "Then we’ll talk, okay?"

Willow nodded as she once again put her arm around Angel’s neck and leaned
her head against his strong shoulder, closing her eyes. She sighed as the
vampire walked out of the room - the dungeon - Damion had kept her in,
leaving the man’s broken body behind. The vampire carefully negotiated his
way through the dark and damp corridors, trying to maintain his balance. He
shifted Willow’s slight way a little as he finally reached the door that
would let them out of this terrible place.

Willow felt Angel shift her in his grip, and she opened her eyes to see that
he was opening a door. The door that would let them out.

The door to freedom.

The redhead held her breath as the vampire carried her out, ashamed to admit
- even to herself - that she had feared that she would never leave Damion’s
lair. At least, not alive.

"Oh, God, Willow!"

Cordelia’s voice rang out, and the brunette ran forward, reaching out to hug
Willow, even though the other woman’s place in Angel’s arms made it a bit
difficult. After hugging her friend, Willow pulled back and looked around
her, slightly surprised to discover that both Amy and Graham were there as
well.

"Are you okay?" Cordelia’s fiancé asked as he stepped forward. He gently
touched the mark on her throat, knowing it had come from Damion’s hand. His
eyes flashed dangerously at the thought of his friend in the clutches of
that bastard. He glanced up at Angel, hoping for some sign that the vampire
had seen to it that Damion had died painfully.

"I’m okay," Willow managed, taking Graham’s hand and squeezing it
reassuringly before releasing him. "A few bumps and bruises, but I’ll be
fine."

"And Damion?" Amy asked meekly, her eyes wary. The past few days had taken
quite a toll on the witch. Cordelia’s vision and Damion’s subsequent return
had brought back so many memories: Forrest’s brutal murder, her own
abduction and violation... and then Willow had been taken again. Amy had to
know that Damion was gone, that he couldn’t come after those she loved
again.

"He’s dead," Angel replied quietly, in a grim voice. The memory of seeing
Willow held by the man, helpless and frightened, struggling for breath,
would always be imprinted in his mind. It terrified him to think what would
have happened had he been a few minutes later. Damion was so out of control
and angry... A few minutes later could have very well been too late.

Willow felt Angel tense, and she looked up at him, confused and a little
worried. The vampire caught her gaze and forced himself to relax. He
hadn’t been too late, and Willow was very much alive. She was safe.

"We should get you home," Cordelia managed, catching the look that passed
between Angel and Willow. She knew something was there, that the two of
them still had feelings for each other, and she just hoped that things
worked out differently for them this time around. If they didn’t, and
Willow got hurt again, Cordelia could honestly say
that she would cheerfully stake Angel.

With that on her mind, she began to lead the way back to the house.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Sky! You’re alive! What? How?"

Willow’s shocked and astonished voice pierced the silence as Angel carried
her inside the house. Although she knew she could have walked home, she had
chosen to instead stay in the vampire’s arms, even though the sight had
earned them several odd looks from passersby. The looks they received,
however, paled in comparison to the look of utter shock that was now on the
redhead’s face. She struggled in Angel’s grasp, nearly causing him to drop
her before he managed to alter his grip and slowly carefully place her on
her feet.

The redhead scrambled over to her beautiful cat, kneeling by it and running
her hand over its soft fur. Sky leaned into her master’s petting, a low
rumbling purr emanating from her. Willow indulged the cat for a few minutes
before looking up at the others.

"I don’t understand. I saw her body. She was dead. How... how did this
happen?" she asked.

"Magick," Cordelia explained simply, kneeling down herself. She had never
been what one would call an animal person, but she’d always had a soft spot
for Willow’s cat.

"But how? It’s next to impossible bring something back to life, and even if
it is done, it usually doesn’t last long..."

"We didn’t use magick to bring Sky back to life," Cordelia told her.
"Damion used it to make you think she was dead."

"He tricked me. Bastard," Willow muttered as she lifted her feline friend
in her arms. "How... how did you find me?" she asked as she looked up at
her more human companions.

"Locator spell," Amy said softly.

Willow released Sky and stood up to hug the blonde witch. "Thank you." She
looked around the room. "Thank you all. For finding me... for saving up on
me." Her gaze lingered on Angel, the man whose face had haunted her for so
long. The man she loved.

Cordelia bit her lip as Willow and Angel gazed at each other. The two
obviously needed time alone. With an exaggerated yawn, she turned to
Graham. "You know, I really think we should be getting home. I mean, this
has been the kind of fun that’s... not, but it’s really getting late."

Graham nodded, getting his fiancée’s not-so-subtle hint. "You’re right; we
really should be going." He reached over and hugged Willow briefly. "I’m
so glad you’re okay," he told her before turning to Angel. He gazed at the
vampire for a moment, then finally spoke. "Take care of her," he said
seriously, his eyes letting Angel know that the comment stretched much
farther than just the one night. He meant forever.

"I will," Angel promised.

Smiling slightly, Graham took Cordelia by the hand, and the two left. Amy
quickly followed suit, heading up to her room while pleading exhaustion.
Willow didn’t doubt that her friend was seriously tired, but she knew it was
much more than that. After watching Amy head up the stairs, she turned to
face the vampire once more.

"We need to talk," Angel said, echoing Willow’s words from less than an hour
before.

The redhead stepped closer to him, stopping when she was directly in front
of him. "I suppose we do," she agreed as she lightly ran her fingers over
the front of his duster, smoothing it down.

Then she kissed him.

Part Twenty-Nine

Angel gasped when Willow pressed her soft, warm lips against his cool ones,
and the redhead smiled slightly before sweeping her tongue inside his mouth.
In response to Willow’s demanding kiss, Angel crushed her to him, his arms
wrapping around her waist so tightly he briefly wondered if he was actually
trying to pull her into him instead of just against him.

Willow moaned as she found herself pressed against the vampire’s body, and
she smiled inwardly as she felt his body’s reaction to her. Oh, yeah. He
definitely wanted her. There was no doubt about that. Forcing a little bit
of distance between them, she ran her hands over his chest, relishing the
feel of his silk shirt and hard muscles under her fingers. It felt so good
to be close to him this way, even though she still remembered quite clearly
how things had ended the last time this had happened. She pushed the rather
annoying thought from her head; Angel had said he loved her. He would never
hurt her like that again. And if he did, she could just turn him into a rat
until he was ready to apologize.

Angel caressed her sides and stomach gently as he swept his tongue into her
mouth, letting it dance with hers. He couldn’t believe he held Willow in
his arms. This had to be a dream. The vampire surreptitiously pinched
himself, trying not to wince at the pain he caused. Nope, not a dream. He
was definitely awake.

Thank God.

As Angel began trailing kisses to her ear, Willow sighed in pleasure as she
raised her arms to wrap around his neck, then trailed her hands upwards to
run her fingers through his silky hair. She allowed the vampire to walk her
backwards towards the staircase, and she sincerely hoped that he planned to
pick her up and carry her once they reached the stairs. However, they never
reached the stairs.

Angel had misjudged the distance slightly (and considering the fact that he
was more than a bit distracted, no one could really blame him), and had
walked her into the wall instead of to the base of the steps.

As her back came into contact with the wall, Willow winced and hissed in
pain. Angel immediately lifted his head, but didn’t step away. His eyes
were filled with concern and guilt. Willow understood the concern, but the
guilt frightened her. Was he going to say he regretted what had just
happened?

"You’re hurt," Angel said softly, his voice husky from their recent
activities. He wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and make her his,
but he was afraid he’d only hurt her worse.

"It’s... it’s nothing," Willow murmured as she dropped her arms to her
sides. Gently, Angel turned Willow around and lifted her shirt, studying
the already forming bruises on her back for a moment before turning her back
around.

"It doesn’t look like nothing to me," he told her. "He hurt you."

"And you saved me," the redhead reminded him, trying to alleviate the
sadness in his eyes. "I’ll be fine, Angel. I promise."

"You scared me, little one," Angel replied, gently pulling her into his
embrace once more. He rocked her from side to side, trying to put a leash
on the emotions that were running rampant inside him. He had almost lost
her. Again.

"I scared myself," Willow admitted quietly before disentangling herself from
the vampire. "I know the others gave us some privacy, but I’d still rather
talk somewhere else," she explained when she saw the confusion in Angel’s
eyes.

"Then lead on," he replied, allowing Willow to take his hand and lead him up
the stairs. The redhead led him to her room and sat down on the edge of the
bed with a yawn.

"You’re exhausted," Angel said softly. "Maybe we should talk tomorrow."

Willow shook her head. "I don’t want to go to sleep until we’ve talked,"
she told him. "If you’ll just give me a few minutes to clean up, we can
talk, okay?"

Sighing, Angel nodded, knowing better than to argue with the redhead. She
gave him a little smile, then went to clean up. Angel went to his room to
do the same, knowing he was probably dirty from the fight, as well as from
traipsing around the dingy rooms of Damion’s lair. He finished showering
and changing quickly and headed back to Willow’s room. She stood in the
center of the room, pulling a tank top over her head, and he winced as he
once again saw the bruises that marred her back. She had piled her wet hair
on top of her head, and the low back of the shirt allowed him to see just
how far up the bruises went. Angel’s hands clenched at the sight, and he
found himself wishing that Damion was alive so he could kill him again.
Quietly, he went to stand behind the redhead.

Willow jumped slightly as she felt a cool hand gently caress the bare skin
of her back above the tank top. She looked over her shoulder to see a quiet
rage burning in Angel’s eyes, and she carefully took his hand, knowing what
he was thinking. "He’s gone, Angel. He can’t hurt me anymore."

"I just wish I could have stopped this from happening."

Willow raised her hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. Angel covered her
hand with his own, holding it against his cheek. "You stopped Damion.
That’s what’s important," she told him before brushing a soft kiss across
his lips.

Still holding her hand, Angel leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.
"What happens now?" he asked.

"You tell me," Willow replied as she stepped away from him.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means... what do you want to happen? Can you answer that?"

"I want to be with you," Angel answered as he stepped closer to Willow. He
reached out and stroked her cheek. "I may not be the right guy for you, and
I sure as hell don’t deserve you, but I’m going to be a selfish bastard and
tell you the truth. I want to be with you. I love you, Willow."

"And I love you. And you’re not a selfish bastard, Angel. It’s not selfish
to be in love and want to be with that person. It’s natural."

"But there’s so much I can’t give you... "

"What if all I want is what you can give me? And if something comes up...
we’ll work it out then."

"And if I agree to that... what then? Do I move in here with you and Amy?"

Willow shook her head. "They need you in LA. You’ve done so much good
there..."

"But I can’t ask you to come to LA with me. I know about your business
and-"

"We’ve been thinking of expanding," Willow interrupted him. "We were
considering San Francisco, but LA would be just as good. We get a lot of
Internet orders from there, anyway. We’d need someone to oversee the store,
and I could help out at Angel Investigations."

"But what would Cordy and Amy say about this plan?"

"I’m pretty sure they’d agree to it," Willow said with a smile. "I’d been
planning to move to wherever the new store opens, anyway. A few months ago,
Amy decided to go back to Sunnydale to help Giles, but she decided to wait
until the new store opened, and we both were ready to move. That way, we
could both pack up and sell the house all at once."

Angel stood silently for a moment, taking all that she said in. After a
moment, he said wonderingly, "You’d really come to LA for me?"

"Not for you," she replied as she leaned in to kiss him once more. "For
us."

Epilogue

Two years later (April 2007)

The lights were dimmed, and the room was hushed. An air of expectancy came
from its occupants. A lighter was flicked on, and a small flame flickered.
Quickly the person with the lighter leaned over and lit a candle. It was
the only candle in the room, and it shone brightly, revealing the grins on
the faces of the room's occupants. The mother of the birthday girl picked
up the cake that the candle rested on and took it over to her daughter as
she began to sing. The others joined in quickly, sounding amazingly good
together.

"Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Eva,
Happy birthday to you."

Two year old Eva Wyndham-Pryce giggled as her parents helped her blow out
the candle on her cake, and the other adults smiled at each other as she
promptly stuck her fist in the cake and brought a handful of it to her
mouth.

"Well, that reminds me of someone I know," Anya Harris said with a laugh,
eyeing her husband, who, true to form, made a face at her. The fact that
Xander was now twenty-six and a father himself had made little difference in
him, even though everyone had to admit that he was a wonderful father.

The entire extended Scooby Gang and their children had made the trip to LA,
using Eva’s birthday as an excuse to get together with one another. Even
Spike had made the trip, although the vampire had grumbled the entire time.
Buffy and Riley had told the other passengers on the flight that Spike’s
mumbling was due to mental problems, an explanation that had led their three
year old son Shea to scold his parents for lying. Much to Spike’s chagrin,
Buffy and Riley’d had a great deal of fun telling the others that story
several times over.

Angel smiled slightly as he gazed at the Slayer's son, who was standing with
four year old Monica Harris, waiting for his share of little Eva’s birthday
cake. He glanced back at Buffy in time to see Riley wrap his arm around
her, and the Slayer looked up at her husband and kissed him before returning
her attention to the children. With another smile, Angel did the same.
They were so happy, so carefree. And then there was little Trent Giles, the
son of Rupert and Amy Giles. He was just three months old, but Angel knew
he would be running around - and running his parents ragged trying to keep
up with him - in no time.

The vampire looked to where Giles stood with his wife and son, who was
cradled in Amy's arms. He was so happy for both of them, even if their
sudden marriage eighteen months before had come as a surprise. They had
both been through so much when it came to love: Giles had lost Jenny (guilt,
though lessening, still plagued Angel over that, even though Willow and the
others insisted time and again that it was the demon’s fault and not his
own), and Amy had lost Forrest. And now Amy and Giles had each other.
Angel was so glad for that, for the love between them. They had both become
such good friends to him, and he knew that they deserved the happiness they
brought to each other.

Angel’s gaze traveled once more, this time going to where Kate and Wesley
were trying to clean off their daughter’s hands. Eva laughed and reached
out, smearing icing on her father’s glasses. The other adults laughed, and
even Wesley himself chuckled. The former Watcher had certainly lightened up
over the past few years, and Angel knew that it was due in part to his wife.
The vampire smiled as he watched the blonde woman swing Eva in the air,
then put her on the floor, laughing as she ran over to Monica and Shea.
There were six couples there, plus Spike, and four of the couples had
children.

Soon it would be more.

Angel’s gaze moved over to where Graham and Cordelia Miller sat. The couple
had married shortly before Willow had moved to LA permanently, and they were
currently expecting their first child. The vampire smiled as he looked at
Cordelia’s belly; she was eight months pregnant, and she had told them all
that she was more than ready to give birth. It was already starting to get
hot in California, and the brunette was very uncomfortable. Even so, she
still seemed thrilled at the prospect of becoming a mother.

With that on his mind, Angel’s gaze settled on his own wife. Willow. She
looked beautiful, her long red hair pulled back from her face. She laughed
at something Spike said, then turned to look at Angel, her smile widening
when she caught her husband staring at her. She picked up two plates and
brought them over to Angel, handing him one and settling down at his side
with the other. Angel set his cake down on the table beside the couch and
pulled Willow closer, wrapping his arm around her and resting his palm on
her belly.

She was three months pregnant.

Amy had found the spell a year ago, and the blonde witch had immediately
sent it to them. It wasn’t until that moment, when he held a copy of the
spell in his hands, that he realized how much he wanted to have children.
Still, he had vowed that he wouldn’t pressure Willow into doing anything she
didn’t want. He needn’t have worried. The redhead had been more excited
than him; she had been completely ecstatic at the prospect of having his
child.

His child.

She had stressed that to him so many times, making sure he understood that
was part of the reason she was so thrilled. The main reason. She had told
him that all she wanted was what he could give her; it had just turned out
that he could give her more than they’d ever dreamed.

Angel smiled as his wife snuggling more deeply against him, and he kissed
the top of her head before raising his gaze to the ceiling and sending out a
silent prayer of thanks. Thanks for Willow, thanks for the amazing people
he called his friends.

And he gave thanks for second chances.

The End
 

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