The Art of the Possible

Author: Lisa

Pairing: Willow/Angelus

Rating: NC-17, overall

Disclaimer: Joss Wheden, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and UPN own all rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, their characters and plots.

Spoilers: Buffy Season 2, takes place after `Innocence'

Summary: Angelus feels the hand of fate.

Distribution: Anyone who has my previous story at their site is welcome to this one. If you want this story, take it, but please let me know.

Author's Note: Thank you Gabrielle; The Patron Saint of Fan Fiction, for being there every step of the way. Thank you Latiam for taking the time to save me from all my mistakes.

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~Part: 1~

As Angelus paced the room aggressively, there was a lot on his mind. He had been restored to his former self last night, courtesy of that idiotic Slayer:  irony was a beautiful thing. It was sickening that his souled counterpart could find perfect happiness with that ridiculous creature, but who was he to complain? It served his purposes well.

He had a plan to formulate and no time to waste thinking about annoying, though accommodating, Slayers, he chided himself impatiently. His childer were entertaining themselves with The Judge, so he could worry about them later, once he’d achieved his goal.

Thinking of ‘his goal’ excited him as he continued to pace his richly appointed hotel room. Earlier in the evening, at the high school, holding Willow close, as he taunted the Slayer, his number one priority became clear: obtaining Willow.

Sappy humans called it love at first sight. Angelus snorted and rolled his eyes at such an absurd notion. What had happened to him as he held the delectable Willow was…chemistry, destiny. He just *knew*. Knew she was meant for him. Angelus didn’t understand it, he wouldn’t even try to. It simply *was*. Of course, *she* didn’t know it yet, but he wasn’t the sort to let that be an obstacle. She would find out soon enough.

God, she was magnificent. In order to win this game, he’d have to be more clever and devious than he ever had before. She was a smart one, that prize he coveted. Not winning Willow wasn’t a consideration. This undertaking required all of his skills as a master manipulator: he’d use intelligence, charm, charisma, finesse and seduction in overcoming her objections and closing the deal. In the end, her submission to him would be by choice. He could taste the victory already. He was completely qualified for the task, he thought cockily. SHE WOULD BE HIS.

He paused and grinned broadly. She was such an unassuming little miss. It pleased him that nobody but him seemed aware of her potential…including her. He would foster and nurture her natural gifts and the world would see that *his* woman was without equal.

He couldn’t even count the number of things that attracted him to her. She physically resembled the fiery haired, petite framed Irish lasses with flawless complexions that he’d been attracted to as a human young man. God knows he’d been chasing, seducing and fucking them every chance he got from the time he was old enough to get it up. She was beautiful, brilliant and had fascinating depths that others were too blind to see. Not *everyone*, he clarified to himself. Angel saw it. Angelus dropped into a chair and roared with laughter. It was too rich. Wouldn’t that little bitch Slayer be surprised to know of the depraved fantasies her beloved pet vampire had of scrumptious Willow? Especially the night Angel had gone to her house to consult about Ford. Yes indeed, the normally pussy whipped soul *did* impress Angelus on occasion. The boy had had dirty, dirty thoughts of the redhead the entire time he was in her bedroom. It’s a wonder he didn’t rub himself raw jerking off to the erotic scenarios he’d built around that little visit! And that was just to name one such occasion. Numerous times Angel’s imagination had gone off on wicked mental tangents involving Willow. As someone with many hidden layers himself, the soul recognized a kindred spirit. Since vampires are highly sexual creatures, Angel had more difficulty suppressing his sexual appetites than the bloodlust, for chrissake. Willow certainly fit the bill as his type. Sure, the damned fool *loved* Buffy, Angelus shuddered at the thought, but since time immemorial, a certain type of redhead had turned his head and fueled his lustful fantasies. Willow was like the ladies of his day; gentle, demure, chaste…she embodied the qualities of the gently bred ladies, who inspired chivalry and respect. Buffy on the other hand…well, no matter how much of the new ways he was exposed to, the fact still remained that he was from another time. Buffy more closely resembled the trollops he had fucked up against the walls of taverns in dirty alleys. She wore clothing that exposed her tits and legs to the eyes of any man. Angelus shook his head and thought it was a wonder Angel hadn’t become as nutty as Dru with all those mixed signals going through his brain: love for the slutty looking Slayer, lust for the ladylike Willow. Yes, one fucked up boy his soul was. Angelus felt fortunate he hadn’t returned to a body with a mind turned to schizophrenic mush from conflicting desires.

While it was tremendously amusing to think about how Angel had fooled everyone into thinking he was such a ‘good boy’, when the whole time he’d been having impure thoughts of the virtuous Willow, more important matters required his full attention.

Angelus settled into the chair to think, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. It was vitally important to capture Willow very soon. He had frightened her earlier at the school, that hadn’t helped his case. But what was done was done. Now he had to get to her before she had a chance to fully absorb the change in him. The entire group would still be off balance and that worked in his favor. He banged his head against the back of the chair a couple of times in frustration. Willow would be aware of how he’d treated Buffy at Angel’s apartment. Teenaged girls shared everything with their best friends. At the time, an opportunity to hurt the vulnerable Slayer had been too irresistible to pass up. He smirked: Buffy’s pain had been delicious and so very satisfying…her pathetic display had been a joy to behold. The memory was too sweet, he couldn’t regret his behavior. No, he’d work around the two strikes against him. Actually, he thought with relief, his restraint had been admirable. All he had done was hurt the Slayer and frighten Willow…well, as far as *they* knew, anyway, which was all that counted. In retrospect he was immensely pleased with himself for not making meals of the Watcher and the insufferable boy. *Those* would’ve been acts Willow wouldn’t forgive. Angelus snarled and clutched the arms of the chair in pique: it pissed him off that Willow was infatuated with Xander, that undeserving, lowly pissant. Regaining his composure and suppressing the jealous surge, he reflected on the upside of Willow’s attraction to the stupid boy. Her insecurities were what caused her to believe she didn’t deserve better. The moron’s inability to see her as an attractive female was beneficial. Angel had been smelling that hateful cheerleader on Xander for awhile, now. Willow’s discovering the relationship this very night was perfect. She was hurt and angry…her devastation could only work in his favor. Angelus chuckled smugly, he was pleased he had overheard that little tidbit. If he hadn’t been in the right place at the right time, he wouldn’t even know that Willow was aware of Xander and Cordelia’s involvement. Willow’s poor self image would be at an all time low. She had been mocked and ridiculed since early childhood, and factoring in the neglect of her parents, Willow was primed for his plans for her. *Nobody* in that girls life was worthy of her, they didn’t deserve to lick her boots. Angelus scowled. The boy she adored had betrayed her with the person who had been cruelest of all to her. He was definitely of two minds about this: on the one hand, he wanted to torture and kill everyone who had dared hurt his chosen mate…on the other hand, they had facilitated him by causing her to be insecure and ideally malleable.

Yes, Willow’s life experience up to this point played into his hands perfect. He had a unique understanding of her complexities. She’d spent a lifetime surrounded by imbeciles incapable of seeing how extraordinary she was. Outside: delicate, timeless beauty…the kind that often went unnoticed until adulthood. Inside: great strength, intelligence and an indomitable will. Unkindness towards her had been met with resilience and acceptance; through a multitude of indignities she had remained positive and upbeat. The girl had backbone, class and character in spades. A weaker individual would’ve been destroyed or beaten down. Willow *appeared* fragile and timid, but the reality was a far cry from that. Upon meeting the Slayer and discovering the ugly truth of the Hellmouth, she had swallowed her fear and joined the fight. God knows he’d been aware of each occasion Willow had felt fear in Angel’s presence, he thought with a snort. Fear was always an appealing scent to vampires, but Willow’s, in particular, made Angel’s cock stand at attention *every time* he was near enough to experience it. Angelus took a moment to relish the feelings of self hatred and shame Angel experienced at those moments: good times, those…a two for one treat for the demon within. When confronted with adversity, Willow didn’t run and hide, no, his girl valiantly soldiered on. Angelus felt a rush of intense pride in the woman who was his destiny. Rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation of his bright future, he felt buoyant.

An unwelcome thought spoiled the moment and he pulled a face. Grimacing and growling, he conceded that a great deal of his knowledge of the ‘inner Willow’ had come as a result of the vacuous Slayer’s constant blabbering to Angel. Buffy, it seemed, was incapable of the unexpressed thought:  while a sure sign of idiocy, it had proven a veritable fountain of information regarding Willow’s life. And Angel’s acute powers of observation had gifted Angelus with the key. The empty room filled with his laughter as he thought about how heartsick the soul would be if he knew *his* insight to Willow’s inner passion and unexpressed rage enabled him, Angelus, to open the door that would unleash the components that would ultimately fulfill Willow’s potential. Raising his eyebrows in resignation and sighing, Angelus admitted he owed Buffy and Angel a debt of gratitude. They had unwittingly been the architects of his future. Knowing they would hate having been contributors to his cause lessened the sting of the admission. After all, Angelus was ever the pragmatic demon. His superiority was a direct result of allowing himself to derive benefits from *all* his resources…Liam, Angel and himself. Angel had been so pathetic and maddening, Angelus thought with disgust, never wanting to access his full accumulation of experience and knowledge, instead residing in denial, broodiness and guilt. The good news was, Angel had never been *near* the tool in aiding the Slayer he could’ve been. Angelus smiled brightly at that thought…every cloud had a silver lining.

Angelus’ mind returned to more practical matters. Angel had considered the vast fortune Angelus had amassed as blood money. Inexplicably (and fortuitously), while it made the soul loath to spend it, it had not prevented him from managing it. Thank God for small favors. Accumulating wealth had never been difficult for him, but not having to waste time securing it now helped tremendously.

Thinking about the obsequious agent he’d hired to locate a secluded residential property earlier, Angelus felt confident that a location for harboring his captive would be found soon: promised bonuses for working through the night were effective no matter *what* century it was. Stretching his legs out, he sighed contentedly. It had been a most productive evening. Lackeys had been hired to see that Willow’s and his needs would be met adequately. He himself had seen to quite a successful shopping spree. The wheels of progress were well greased. All would be in readiness for tomorrow night. Angelus placed his hands on his thighs and smiled complacently, he was a superb planner and first rate strategist, even if he did say so himself.

He felt almost…what? Giddy! He felt giddy…like an excited bridegroom. Well, that was fitting, after a fashion. Very soon he would have Willow and could begin her ‘reconditioning’. He would penetrate her ‘insecure child’ shell in order to tap into the strong woman he *knew* was waiting to surface. I’m just moving up the timetable, he thought, in a few years she would’ve evolved and found it herself. No longer would so-called family and friends hold his precious girl back. There was a confident, assertive woman within Willow just itching to emerge. I know it with every fiber of my being, Angelus crowed to himself triumphantly.

Pursing his lips, he admitted he was getting a little ahead of himself in his excitement. There was a ways to go yet. Earlier, at the school, the little darling had been scared shitless in his arms. That was no deterrent, he would fix that. Groaning and squirming in his chair, he relived the other scents present as Willow’s tight, high ass had been pressed against him. In spite of her fear, she had felt desire…*intense* desire. That little vixen was full of surprises. Mmmm, he planned to be enjoying surprises she provided for a very long time to come, he thought, stroking the erection elicited by the memory and his ruminations.

Angelus propelled himself out of the chair, since sitting had become uncomfortable, and resumed pacing. Unfastening his pants as he went, he mumbled to himself about the incompatibility of leather pants and raging hard-ons. Lust was only one of the feelings Willow inspired in him. The rest were new territory for the cynical vampire. Being a slave to his feelings for Willow, like Spike was to Dru, was unacceptable. Of course, he reassured himself, nobody need ever *know* of the ‘kinder, gentler’ aspects residing in his heart for his intended. Feeling something and showing it were entirely different matters. Tipping one’s hand was not how games were won.

Acknowledging predestination and acting on it were not surrender. Lack of experience in this area left him uncertain of the roles he and Willow would play in each others lives. Uncertainty really burned his ass. All he knew for sure was that whatever the rules would be…*he* would be their creator.

Even an irresistible force could be dominated. Superior intellect and strategic ability would give him the tools to build whatever it was he and Willow would become. New possibilities were exhilarating. An unexpected challenge like this, after so many years on this earth!

His deft hand would guide Willow’s burgeoning potential. In the end they would be something great.

For 150 years he’d been part of a ‘power couple’. His relationship with Darla hadn’t had the necessary elements to be the ultimate, though. Certainly not due to anything lacking on *his* part, he thought derisively.

This time he’d be creating something new and better than there’d ever been before.

Eventually concessions would have to be made. Angelus let out a thunderous growl and kicked a small table across the room. A partnership or relationship of any consequence required compromise by both parties. He stalked the broken table and gave it another kick. Giving ground was not his forte. Willow wasn’t the only one about to embark on a learning curve.

Angelus reeled in his temper and focused. His fate was tied to Willow’s. He’d seen many different kinds of couples and knew that existence and victory didn’t mean nearly as much if you didn’t have someone to share them with. In the end, it wasn’t about dominion, it was about sharing the power: equals complementing each other. Evidently mating instinct caught everyone in its snare eventually…he was not immune. While Angelus was monumentally pissed off that sacrifices on his part would be required at some point, he could take solace in knowing that Willow wouldn’t know that for quite some time to come. Somehow Willow was the catalyst for his ascension to unprecedented power. Not completely understanding it *did not* undermine his control, he told himself fiercely. He was and would remain the master of his domain.

Since beating the living hell out of her didn’t meet his present agenda, he funneled his overwrought emotions to a more constructive direction. Self control reasserting itself, he began to think instead of the gratification to be found in his immediate future. The distant future would be dealt with when the time came.

That girl *did* drive him to distraction; she was like a luscious peach ripe for the picking. Oh yeah, he thought as a wave of desire rolled over him, he was going to be the lucky fruit picker. Those big, crystal clear eyes of hers; imagining them clouded with lust for him made him hard as a rock. Nothing was more erotic to him than being the source of uncontrollable desire to one previously untouched and pure as the wind driven snow. *He* would be the one to teach her *everything*. The fantasy caused such urgency, he nearly ripped his pants in his rush to get his hand on his achingly stiff dick. He roughly pumped himself with visions of his virgin turned wanton playing in his head. He saw himself driving into her, her incredible eyes glazed with desire for him. He threw his head back and growled, he could hear her beg, “Angelus! Yes! Fuck me! Please!” He came in a series of jerks and grunts with Willow’s imagined voice still ringing in his ears.

The shrill sound of the telephone jarred him back to reality. “This better be good news,” he snapped as he reached out to answer the call.

~Part: 2~

Willow was very different to observe when she was alone in her bedroom…her comfort zone. Angelus had been watching her for a few hours and was impressed with her grace and efficiency of movement. He took a drag from his cigarette. Interesting, he thought. When she was with others she was more self-conscious…awkward and nervous. Voyeurism was informative. He’d always found that watching people when they were alone was an educational insight into their real character. Of course, one had to see them in a variety of situations to get a full picture of who they were.

Tonight’s surveillance had been multi-purpose. Seeing her in her own element told him much about her. Earlier she’d applied herself to homework with a single minded purpose that indicated genuine interest in the subject matter; it wasn’t a chore for her. Willow showed enthusiasm for all the subjects she’d covered; English, Geometry, and History. The latter engaged her emotions, though. Her studies of the American Civil War moved her deeply. This lovely young girl was very interested in people and the world around her…past and present: Angelus liked the things that told him about her.

There had been moments of silent contemplation that piqued his curiosity. She had stared into space, entranced, as she’d run her fingers over her t-shirt. Angelus had been entranced, too. He’d wanted to burst into her room and demand to be told what she was thinking as the tips of her fingers slowly ran up her belly, between her breasts, coming back down grazing a nipple causing it to react perkily at the attention…then she’d repeat the action. Her nubile body was so responsive. Angelus flicked his cigarette into the yard and mirrored her sensual touch on his own body, kneading his erection with the other hand. The mesmerized vampire would’ve given anything to know what was going through her mind as those lucky fingers traveled over her. Unfortunately, a brisk breeze prevented him from catching her scent…he *knew* it would be intoxicating. An engrossed Angelus had no idea how much time passed when the phone rang. He quietly growled curses at the telephone solicitor who’d interrupted them. Interfering bastard!

While Willow answered insipid questions, Angelus made the most of the time by lowering his pants enough to get himself off. His consequent ejaculation relieved the sexual tension…for now. Managing his desire for Willow was important at this juncture. Biding his time with her would be difficult if he didn’t keep his sexual frustration under control…which was certainly becoming an ongoing task. Punishing her for being alluring was unacceptable and he knew that’s *exactly* where unsatisfied desire on his part would lead. Although violence was a tool in attaining his goal, its misuse would be counterproductive. Adept strategists had to maintain a clear head and keep sight of the objective. Drusilla was a prime example of what could happen if one got too caught up in the fun of cruelty for its own sake. Angelus learned from his mistakes. Willow was a keeper: miscalculation wouldn’t happen, he told himself firmly.

Angelus straightened and fastened his clothes as Willow tidied her room after she got off the phone. He lit another smoke and enjoyed the view. Everything went into slow motion for him as Willow took a nightgown out the dresser and began to disrobe. The forgotten cigarette burned down to his fingers and he stifled a cry of pain just in time. Throwing away the offending butt, he never took his eyes from the riveting sight before him. Unconsciously he sucked his singed fingers into his mouth, to ease the sting, as he gazed in awe at a nude Willow. Her lithe, succulent body exceeded his high expectations. Once again his pants were bulging uncomfortably. That was it, he was swearing off of leather pants until his sexual relationship with this little nymph began! He closed his eyes and swallowed hard as she climbed into bed, trying to will his stiff dick into submission.

As Willow tossed and turned in her virginal bed, Angelus fought with his imagination as it continued to show him visions of himself fucking the little temptress senseless. Surrendering to his insistent fantasies, he figured he might as well take care of business one more time since he had to wait for her to fall asleep anyway. All this visual stimulation was going to be the death of him, he groused. It was a good thing he was abducting Willow tonight…giving himself hand-jobs while lurking outside the window of a teenaged girl was beneath his dignity.

By the time Angelus regained mastery over his libido, Willow was fast asleep. Finally! He was sick of spewing semen far and wide as he maintained his vigil. *That* was the métier of horny adolescent boys, most definitely *not* master vampires, for crissake. If anyone had witnessed his humiliating performance out here tonight, they would’ve died an ugly death.

Angelus stealthily entered Willow’s girlish bedroom. First he had to ensure she would stay asleep. Retrieving a vial from his duster pocket, he opened it and held it beneath her nose. An accommodating doctor had procured the chemical mixture for him. He felt confident she would have no ill effects from the ‘deep sleep’ inducing drug: the doctor was made to understand that if any harm came to Willow, his life, and that of his family was forfeit. It seemed to have worked as promised, her heartbeat and breathing became slow and even. Good. Excellent. It was important to have an able physician in his pocket. Killing this one would just mean having to find a new one and he had neither the time nor the inclination. Angelus had other priorities now. Willow’s human state would probably create ongoing medical needs…both natural and those inflicted by him. Not that he didn’t intend to proceed with caution, of course, but these things happen.

Watching Willow tonight had provided clues as to how she liked to pass time. Angelus had brought roomy duffel bags and went about gathering items he thought she would want with her. His packing included some unnecessary clothing, suitcases and toiletries since her friends and family needed to believe she was on an extended trip. There was no telling how snoopy Buffy and Co. would be and he prided himself on planning for every contingency.

Tomorrow calls would be made to Willow’s absent parents and the school informing them of the various lies Angelus had concocted to explain her disappearance. No stone would be left unturned, he thought loftily.

Looking around the room, he felt confident he’d covered all of his bases. As his eyes fell on the fish swimming around in baggies, he rolled his eyes. He’d provided an ample new home for them as well. They’d feel like they’d died and gone to fish heaven in the elaborate new tank he’d had purchased and set up in Willow’s room at their new home. Angelus was disgusted at the lengths he had gone to, but touches like the fish would go a long way in making Willow accept her new situation all the sooner. Familiarity bred contentment…at least that was the idea.

Angelus hauled the bags to his waiting SUV, thankful that Willow’s parents were considerate enough to leave their child unattended. Bad parenting provided the devil’s playground, he said to himself with a chuckle.

All was in readiness to whisk Willow off to her new life. Angelus felt a wave of excited anticipation as he stood over her bed and watched her. She looked even younger and more innocent in slumber, ensconced in the bed of her childhood. He ran a finger along her smooth cheek and said softly, “My darling, life as you knew it is over. Nothing will be the same again…for either of us. You and I have great things in store for our future.”

Carefully pulling the covers back, he picked her up, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms. Unable to resist the temptation, he bent his head and kissed her soft lips lingeringly. “Mine,” he whispered as he carried her out the door.

~Part: 3~

Angelus was very pleased with his new home. The real estate agent had done a great job given very little time. The grounds were extensive, with over 80 acres beautifully landscaped and tended; the house was old, elegant and came furnished; and the décor was quite impressive. So far, his plan was coming off without a hitch. He expected no less.

Relaxing in a comfortable chair, he surveyed the room. It was large and airy with high ceilings and tall diamond paned windows. This was the bedroom he had carefully chosen for Willow. The furniture was massive mahogany with a fairly light finish: bed, nightstands, dresser, armoire and an entire area arranged to suit her needs…a fully equipped entertainment center, desk, bookcases, divan, reading chairs, ornate tables and lamps. Yes, she would be very comfortable here.

The colors were tasteful and feminine…reds, yellows, and greens in solids, stripes and florals for the upholstery, bed coverings, decorative pillows and rugs. Angelus was satisfied that the colorful, eclectic mix suited its occupant well…understated and pleasing to the eye.

Raising a brow at the fish, Angelus had to admit that they did add to the ambiance of the room. The tank sat on a cabinet specially made for it and the wood and design coordinated with the rest of the furniture. Evidently the man assigned to the task had had a hell of a time finding it. The unit was in the center of the room, so it could be viewed from any vantage point. The fish swam around contentedly in the bountifully appointed tank and the sounds it made added to its overall pleasant and calming effect. Angelus made a mental note to acquire more fish, because there were too few residents for a tank that size.

Resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, he propped his chin on his fist to admire the sleeping beauty on the bed. The only illumination came from the flickering fire in the fireplace, complementing Willow’s face and hair magnificently. In fact, nighttime in general flattered her dramatic coloring. Moonlight enhanced her fair, clear skin, and her face had been luminescent in the moon’s glow as he carried her into the house earlier tonight. Firelight gave her complexion a golden radiance and flickered and danced in her glorious red hair. She looked lovely.

As Willow remained blissfully unaware of her change of circumstances, Angelus fondly imagined her making use of her new surroundings. He could see her tapping away at the elaborate computer he’d purchased for her, deeply absorbed in her work or watching the large television discreetly hidden in its cabinet. He imagined her curled up on one of the cozy chairs, under the soft glow of a tiffany lamp, enjoying a good book. No doubt, she would love the lavish attached bath once she adjusted to being here. Angelus fully expected her to initially be unhappy about her abduction and confinement. Once she realized that resistance was futile, she’d be sensible enough to appreciate the comforts he’d arranged for her. In the meantime, he’d be patient. It was all part of his master plan. Holding all of the cards made him feel benevolent. Willow’s first step would be coming to see him and this place as her reality. Cut off from all outside ties, she’d become dependent on him for everything.

He’d seen to every contingency…or would soon. Angelus preened at his ability to anticipate and see to every detail.

Her environment was designed to accommodate both of them. During the day her room would be light and cheery, promoting a positive mental attitude, yet the north facing windows never received direct sunlight. The windows had unbreakable glass and were high enough off the ground to prevent escape in any eventuality. It was, in essence, an esthetically pleasing prison. Many of Willow’s possessions were here, brought along for practical purposes as well as aids to adjustment.

The only variable he was unable to predict was what Willow’s reaction would be when she woke up. Would she be terrified and cowering? Would she be furious and spitting like a kitten? Would she be submissive and resigned? He couldn’t wait to find out! No matter what direction her emotions took, he would enjoy them, he thought, smirking. Willow’s temperament made any number of responses possible. Angelus looked forward to whatever challenges her myriad of potential moods posed. Learning to manage her in any given situation would be exciting. The most accomplished manipulators could turn every eventuality to their advantage and still play it so the recipient was pleased with the outcome. Angelus had no doubts about his own ability to do so.

The self-assured vampire reminded himself that his own tempestuous nature was his worst enemy at times. Keeping his temper in check would be imperative. He growled at the quiet room, admitting any weakness displeased him. Willow would surely evoke his anger at times and expressing it would be a setback. So, he told himself firmly, he would exert self-control and refrain from striking her or screaming at her…unless it was called for…to the best of his ability. Angelus snarled impatiently and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, for while it was essential to keep his intended role in mind, it annoyed him to have to concern himself over obstacles that may or may not arise.

The doctor had said that it was impossible to predict how long Willow would sleep, as all individuals reacted differently to the drug. Angelus was not about to pass the time with any more critical self-analysis; that was the arena of losers like Angel, for crying out loud. He had every intention of being present when Willow awoke, so he would pass the time by entertaining himself at her bedside with something he enjoyed. Leaning over the side of the chair, he retrieved the sketchpad and pencil he’d brought. Studying his subject, he thought he could never tire of capturing her image on paper. As he began to draw, his hand flew over the page.

Angelus lost track of time as he moved around the room creating sketch after sketch of Willow in poses real and imagined. Sitting on the foot of the bed, he noted that her breathing and heartbeat still indicated deep sleep. Assured she was fine, he lay across the bed from her, making himself comfortable. Flipping pages, reviewing his work, the vampire was satisfied with the results. A wicked grin accompanied his perusal of a particularly erotic rendering of Willow on this very bed. Seeing her undress earlier had provided inspiration and watching her body’s enthusiastic response to her own touch had fired his artistic interpretation of what her responses would be to *him*. He closed his eyes and the drawing came to life in his mind…Willow naked; her creamy skin exposed to his lustful gaze, her eyes dark with desire, beckoning him to touch her and bring her the satisfaction that only *he* could. Her firm, flawless breasts reacting to his mere presence, with her pink nipples tightening, begging to be sucked. Turning her head and arching her graceful neck because she craved the feeling of his fangs sinking in as her blood flowed into his mouth. Legs spread in invitation, her body undulating with need. He saw himself leaning over her as she slid her feet up the sheet, in a silent plea, raising a long, slender leg to caress him with her silky inner thigh in blatant invitation for him to pound her into the mattress.

Angelus’ eyes snapped open. “Shit!” He said to himself, his red-hot fantasy had made him rock hard and he was panting like a sex crazed maniac. Thoughts of fucking her brains out *had* to wait. Raping her as she lay there unconscious *or* her waking to him diddling himself by her side would *not* help him achieve his objective. He squeezed his eyes shut and ordered himself to get a grip. Jesus! What had gotten into him? This vicious cycle was nothing but trouble. It seemed like all he’d done tonight was watch Willow, work himself into a hot and bothered state, jack off, and then repeat the process all over again. That idiot Xander could probably conduct himself with more self-control than he, Angelus, Master Vampire and Scourge of Europe, had exhibited this night. Completely. Fucking. Ridiculous. And how the bloody hell had he forgotten to change out of his goddamned leather pants? Rearranging himself to prevent chafing, he muttered insults and self-recriminations as he got up to do some calming pacing. Pausing intermittently to glare at Willow, in hopes it would prod her to wakefulness, he stalked back and forth across the room. Once, she had rolled to her side, tucking her hands charmingly beneath her cheek and mumbled something about Buffy’s homework. *That* was helpful, nothing could deflate his dick faster than mention of the Slayer, who was a totally disappointing lay. With a sly grin he remembered that banging Buffy was actually what had finally rid him of the miserable soul. Just goes to show, he thought cheerfully, even bad sex can be good.

Yesiree, he chuckled with amused disdain, time in the sack with Buffy was proof positive that her seductive outfits were nothing but false advertising. Of course, experience had taught him long ago not to judge a book by its cover: doing so led to all kinds of missed opportunities. *Although*, he was very glad the male population of Sunnydale had been misled by Willow’s manner and wardrobe choices. Her frumpy overalls and baggy sweaters had served him well…his darling had remained unsullied and pure.

The most delicious scent filled the air and stopped Angelus in his tracks. “My, my, and what do we have here,” he said quietly as he went to stand over Willow. The smell of her arousal told him she was dreaming about something sexual, but what…or rather who…was the million dollar question. At some point she had rolled onto her back, and as the captivated vampire continued to watch her, she made the tiniest mewling sound. Very carefully, so as not to disturb her, Angelus sat down next to her, wincing at the discomfort of the erection in his confining pants. Tomorrow he would send someone to fetch Angel’s clothes. It was no accident that the soul’s slacks had a roomy fit in the crotch. For now, practical considerations would have to take precedence over fashion. Willow remained still for several moments, but she continued to emit the heady aroma, so he just waited. His patience was rewarded when she fisted her hands and pushed her bottom into the mattress, moaning something unintelligible. Angelus’ cock throbbed in response and he was completely rapt. When Willow’s back arched and her mouth formed a silent “oh,” his hand ached to slide beneath the covers and bring her to orgasm. He forced himself to remain still. She could wake at any time and he sincerely doubted she would greet his fingers buried in her wetness with welcome, no matter how much pleasure they brought her. It wouldn’t do at all for her to perceive him as a pervert who would assault her as she slept. The poor girl writhed in need and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. She probably wasn’t even aware, in her innocence, that a little attention to her swollen clitoris would provide the relief she craved. Angelus placated himself with the knowledge that when the time came, *he* would be the one to satisfy the yearnings of her young body. In the meantime, he sorely wished he could read her mind: *who* starred in Willow’s lust filled dream?! Did she have those dreams often? As he continued to watch her in the throes of an erotic dream, he thought hard about her body’s past indicators. He knew for a fact she had been turned on when his hard-on had been pressed against her at the school, in spite of her fear. Angel had smelled her desire a number of times, but in a group environment, so he never knew who had caused it…and he was always so busy trying to hide his own response, that he couldn’t analyze it. Angelus stared hard at her, as if he could will her to utter a name.

“Mmmm,” Willow murmured dreamily and he waited anxiously, but she gave no clue as to the identity of her dream lover. Not knowing aggravated him to no end, but at the same time, he was perfectly aware it quite possibly wasn’t him *or* Angel…which he didn’t like one bit.

The curiosity and sexual frustration were maddening. Angelus rose with a sigh and wandered to the windows to gaze outside. Clasping his hands behind his back, he considered a cold shower and ‘beat the meat’ session, but Willow could waken in his absence, so he ruled that out. The sun would rise soon; hopefully it would set into motion her body’s natural waking mechanism.

A small, surprised, “Oh!” came from the bed. Angelus turned around to see a groggy, confused Willow sitting up, looking appealingly tousled. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her mouth was opened slightly as she looked at the crackling fire. Angelus remained silent as her gaze turned to the fish tank. He couldn’t help smiling when her head cocked to the side. She probably thought she was still asleep. He’d give her a moment to take in her surroundings and shake off drowsiness. She still didn’t look in his direction.

Willow rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, said, “Huh,” then laid back down and closed her eyes. Angelus thought resignedly that she was going back to sleep. Soon, her hand reached out and traced the satin sheet she was laying on. Slowly she sat back up and stared at the hand touching the unfamiliar feeling sheet. He thought she looked very small and sweet, alone in the king-sized bed. As if she sensed his presence, her eyes slowly traveled from her hand to him, standing several feet away from her. He remained in place, awaiting her reaction. Willow’s eyes narrowed and her face turned to the side as she looked at him in wonder.

Since she wasn’t showing the slightest inkling of distress, Angelus could only surmise that she didn’t believe the evidence of his presence that her eyes were presenting her with. Blinking slowly several times, her gaze remained puzzled, but undisturbed. He stayed perfectly still and smiled, making every effort to appear non-threatening. Willow rubbed her face briskly, said, “Weird,” then pinched herself. The pinch must’ve been a doozy, because she yelped and her eyes became huge as she gaped at him.

~Part: 4~

Now that Willow was awake, she’d want answers. Angelus wasn’t convinced that she was especially alert, though. Talking to her while she was still disoriented could just cause upset and confusion. She stared at him wide eyed, and since surprise was the only emotion he could detect from her, she obviously didn‘t think the situation was real. He decided that it might work in his favor and thought he’d start the conversation with concern for her well being. “Willow, why did you pinch yourself so hard? That looked awfully painful.” She looked at him as if he had grown two heads and didn’t say a word. He ran a hand through his hair and made up his mind to stick with the tactic in spite of its lack of result so far. “Willow, Willow,” he said as he walked to the bed and gently sat next to her. She leaned back slightly, but didn’t flinch as he reached for her arm. “Let me see if there’s a bruise.” Examining her forearm, sure enough, there were two small bruises on her tender skin. “Tsk, tsk,” he patted her arm and put it back at her side. He looked her in the eye and said, with as much kind sincerity as he could muster, “Darling, I hate to see you hurt yourself, please be more careful.”

Willow appeared to be in shocked disbelief, continuing to be still and mute. As long as he wasn’t receiving any response from her, he was just going to act like this was all perfectly natural. The room had taken on a pink cast as the sun began to come up. “I know just what you need,” he said with a smile. He picked up the receiver of the nightstand phone and dialed two numbers. “Good morning, James, please send coffee, tea and pastries to Miss Rosenberg’s room. Yes, thank you, that would be lovely.” Hanging up the phone, Angelus rose and returned to the bay area the windows formed and looked out at the soft morning light splashed across the sky. Glancing over his shoulder at Willow, he said, “It’s a beautiful morning and soon breakfast will arrive and you’ll feel just like new. You’ll see.” Willow still hadn’t moved a muscle.

There was a light tapping at the door. “Ah, here we go!” Angelus went to the door and politely greeted an elderly gentleman who was at the helm of a well stocked cart. “Thank you, that will be all,” he said as he rolled the cart into the room and shut the door. The smells alone should help jar Willow out of her stupor, he thought as he maneuvered the cart to the bed. “Willow, would you prefer coffee or tea?” Taking her continued silence in stride, he poured a cup of tea out of a china teapot into a matching teacup. He handed her the saucer holding the steaming cup of tea and she automatically took it. Surely that was a good sign, he thought. Lifting the sterling silver lids, he surveyed the contents of the trays. There was a wide variety of pastries to choose from. Splendid. Knowing ladies generally loved chocolate, he selected a fluffy pastry oozing what appeared to be mousse and placed it on a plate. Placing the tasty treat on the bed in front of Willow, he dragged a wing chair from the window area to a spot by the bed and sat down.

Lounging in the chair, with his arms casually draped over the sides, he lifted an eyebrow and said, “You haven’t tasted your tea. Take a sip, darling, and see if it’s to your liking.” As if on auto-pilot, Willow looked at the cup as if it had just appeared magically in her hand that very second. Slowly, she raised the cup and tasted the tea.

“Well? Is the tea all right?” She looked into the cup as if it would provide enlightenment. “Perhaps if you try the pastry, it will stimulate your taste buds,” he said motioning to the untouched plate.

Willow’s glance bounced from the tea to the pastry to him and she shook her head. Leaning forward, she placed the cup and saucer on the nightstand and returned to her previous position. Her eyes roamed the room, studying it, then she looked back at him. Motioning vaguely, she said, “Whaaa?”

Angelus leaned back in his chair, pleased that there was now progress and placed the fingertips of both hands together. “Specifically, what is your question, Willow?” He asked with a patient smile.

Willow looked unsure, as if she was too baffled to form a question…and too frightened to ask one, if she did.

He waited for her to speak again, determined that she would take her conversational turn. The ploy worked, her eyes got a decisive look as if she’d narrowed her confusion to one question.

“I’m asleep and th-th-this is just a bizarre dream, right? B-b-because I feel like, um, uh, ‘Alice in Wonderland’.” Willow looked relieved, like she’d solved a complicated puzzle.

Now that she was more mentally present and participating in the conversation, Angelus wanted to keep the alarm she would inevitably feel to a minimum. He consciously maintained a calm voice and demeanor, as he said, “No, precious, you’re awake.” Her heartbeat picked up and he resolved to just answer her questions, without giving her any more information than she directly asked for. Too much knowledge at once would upset her more than necessary. Her heart pounded harder by the second and she slid backwards, pulling the bedcovers to her shoulders, eyes wide with fear.

Willow swallowed and tears formed in her eyes. “I don’t, um, understand. Y-y-y-you’re not…not Angel, right?”

Angelus tried for an air of perplexed concentration. “Not in the strictest sense, no.” Willow’s expression and body language remained fearful, but he could see that her mind was working busily, and consternation was now added to the mix of things she was feeling. Willow was a thinker, and he wanted to keep her attention on the ‘dilemma solving track’. He enjoyed the smell of her fear very much, but it wasn’t to his advantage right now.

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed. The tears were gone, but her voice shook as she asked, “I…I…. What? What does that mean?”

“Well…” Angelus brushed his thighs with his palms and leaned forward, pretending to be unaware of her eyes widening at the movement. Clasping his hands, elbows propped on his knees, he said in a conspiratorial tone, “It’s a complicated question, actually.” He cleared his throat, now he would lengthen his answers and distract her with her own intellectual curiosity. Things were going quite well, he thought. Looking into her eyes, appearing (he hoped) confiding, he continued, “You’re exceptionally bright, so…” He sighed as if he was confused himself…which, of course, he wasn’t, not even remotely.

“No matter what label you attach, I’m just me.” He’d definitely caught her interest, but didn’t allow a triumphant look to change his warm expression. “You see, Willow, when I was living, I was Liam; some would’ve said a wild young man, but a nice enough sort, if you ask me. Darla met me…Liam…in an alley one night…” He gave Willow a questioning look and she nodded for him to continue. “I admit,” he adopted a sheepish look, “I was quite drunk…not an unusual occurrence in those days.” Continuing to gauge her reactions, he was pleased to note that her heart rate didn’t indicate extreme panic anymore, but it was still rapid. Nevertheless, she was paying close attention and seemed intrigued by what he was telling her. “Darla took advantage of the situation and turned me. I was still Liam, but now a vampire, therefore without a soul.” Angelus sighed and shook his head, admiring his own acting abilities. “I’m telling you, Willow, there are those who believe it’s an easy transition, but it’s not. In the beginning there’s a lot to assimilate and adjust to. Suddenly you’re thrust into a reality where you retain your human characteristics to a large degree, but it’s very different when your nature is no longer tempered by a soul.”

Willow interrupted, covers still held to her shoulders, “B-b-but blood. You drank blood, killed your family and, and other people…”

“Yes,” Angelus nodded in agreement and continued in a confiding voice, “Obviously appetites change, blood is just part of the deal. As to my family…well. My father was a mean bastard, he’d always treated me badly. My first instinct was revenge. Self control is practically non-existent in a newly changed vampire. I couldn’t *wait* to punish my father and show him how strong and superior I was to him now. Before I knew it, I’d been on a rampage, doing away with my family and everyone we knew.” Angelus sighed again, trying not to overdo the drama, but wanting Willow’s attention directed solely on his story and not her current situation.

Leaning back in his chair, elbow propped on the arm, he rested his head against his fist. “Darla was a manipulative bitch if there ever was one. She *wanted* me to sever all ties to my former life. She just let me go off on a tear…a killing spree, in a knee jerk reaction to ‘soullessness’. It wasn’t until after all that that she pointed out the fruitlessness of my actions. Suffice it to say, any victory I felt was short lived.” Angelus smiled ruefully and apologized, “I’m sorry, I got off course in answering your question.” He was as curious as hell as to Willow’s thoughts and state of mind, but didn’t dare ask, wanting to maintain her distraction. “To sum up; I’m 26 years of Liam, 150 of Angelus and 100 of Angel…give or take. For simplification we’ll call me Angelus, but in truth, I’m the sum of *all* those years of life experience. Certainly, I didn’t control this body at all times, but all the memories contribute to who I am. The Watchers Council would have you believe it’s more cut and dried. But in reality, Willow, how could it possibly be? There are too many influences and factors in play for it to be black and white. Especially for me, of all vampires, having spent a ‘souled’ century. Do you now understand how I am *and* am not Angel?”

Willow wasn’t even remotely relaxed, but she had settled somewhat, having been lulled by his talking and intrigued by the insights she had gained. Or so he’d thought.

Christ, Angelus cursed to himself as tears began to course down her cheeks. He’d miscalculated and now she was crying, shaking like a leaf, and smelling petrified. He suspected that being required to speak was what had set her off. Being a nice guy was hard work! His mind worked furiously to come up with damage control. Maintaining a façade of ‘the milk of human kindness’ was taking its toll and he was having trouble inventing his next move. Willow relieved him of the burden by mumbling something incoherent.

“I’m sorry, my sweet, I couldn’t understand you. Please say that again,” Angelus said with all the tenderness he could marshal. Willow’s sobs robbed her of the ability to speak and he looked around anxiously for tissue. Finding a box, he pulled out a handful and passed them to her.

Willow snatched the proffered tissues and loudly blew her nose. Angelus congratulated himself on not reacting to the obnoxious honking sound with a look of disgust. What was one to expect, after all, when one pursued a human lover?

Once Willow got her body fluids under control, she tried to speak again. “I said, I *do* understand. Y-y-you, you have lost your soul and you’re going to k-kill me.” Once she finished the sentence, she wept in earnest.

Angelus was astounded that with all his well meant effort he’d managed to mislead her so badly. “No! Christ, Willow!” He had to think fast. Fuck! “Shhh, shh, there now, calm down,” he said, patting the bed ineffectually. Fucking shit, he thought, usually he *wanted* to make someone cry. He couldn’t think how to stop it. He tried accessing Angel’s memories, but that was less than worthless…the soul was a complete retard when it came to communication. Cock suck!! He bellowed in his head. Willow’s face was buried in the mass of sodden tissue and she was sobbing her heart out. Briefly, he considered yelling and demanding that she stop it at once, but immediately rejected the idea…that would conflict with his prime directive. In order to gain her trust and goodwill, he had to maintain an even keel. Suddenly the answer came to him. He’d go back to the strategy of behaving as if this were all perfectly normal.

“Willow, I have absolutely no intention of harming you.” Angelus sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Earlier, you studied the room.” She appeared not to hear him, but, no matter, she would eventually. “This lovely room is especially for you. Your fish are here; happier than pigs in shit, I might add. Your backpack, school books and supplies are here. Would I have gone through the trouble of transporting your belongings if I had intended to kill you? Of course not! Your comforts are all provided for.” He spotted the pastry, still sitting on the plate, undisturbed by all the drama that had ensued. Reaching over, he picked up the plate and held it out to her. “Here, sweetheart, try eating. Surely that will make you feel better.” No joy. To get her attention, he placed his hand on her knee. Willow screamed and jumped away, tumbling herself backwards over the side of the bed. She landed with a thump and Angelus dropped the plate and dashed over to check on her. She was sitting on the floor, stunned, and holding her elbow, which she must’ve injured. The crying had stopped, from the shock of hitting the hard floor, he reckoned.

Angelus watched her for a moment with his hands on his hips. He had to regain control of the situation. If events continued to unfold as they had been, he’d surely lose his temper. Willow had ignored him while she was crying, which would normally make him see red. Behaving out of character and controlling his temper thus far would bring him to the end of his tether at this rate. A vampire had his limits, and seizing the reins would, hopefully, keep him from reaching his and blowing this with a tantrum. Witnessing his unholy temper would petrify Willow and that would be a big setback.

Angelus bent over and picked her up. She immediately began to kick and scream like a wild banshee. Holding her arms and legs against him, he went to sit down again in the same chair. As she wasted her energy struggling, he held her tight and told her, “Willow, hush now, you’ll get hoarse from all that carrying on.” Rocking gently, tucking her head beneath his chin to keep it still, he continued in a soothing tone, “You know you’re no match for me physically. Just calm down, all this crying and hurting yourself isn’t good for you.” He felt very noble for ignoring the effect that her struggling and her divine ass bouncing on his lap were having on him. “If you stop and think for a moment, you’ll realize that I haven’t tried to harm you in any way.” Willow’s movements had slowed considerably and whimpers replaced the ear splitting racket she’d been making. Thank God for small favors, he thought. “You are perfectly safe, Willow.” She became still and quiet. He didn’t know if it was a surrender or from exhaustion, but either suited him just fine. “I want you to sit here and behave yourself. If I let go, will you do that?” She nodded against his chest. As he let go, he made sure none of her body parts were in contact with his hard-on. If she suspected all this activity was a turn-on for him, they’d be back to square one. The chair was large; Willow’s back was against one arm and her legs rested over the other as she sat on his thigh. She was irresistible in that little girl nightgown; it was pink cotton and had ruffles at the hem and shoulder straps, and didn’t quite reach her knees. He had no idea who Strawberry Shortcake was, but watching her have a sex dream in the nightie with the cartoon character on the front had been priceless. Big girl dreams in little girl sleepwear, that was part of Willow‘s unique charm. Squashing all thoughts of a sexual nature, Angelus studied the top of her head as she looked down at the hands she was wringing on her lap.

Okay, he thought, we’re ready for the next step. “Willow, will you look at me? Please?” Slowly, she lifted her head. Her eyes were slightly glazed and held fear, but mostly she appeared painfully shy. Being on any man’s lap would freak out this innocent girl, he thought. Well, too bad. He liked her there and it subtly conveyed his control. “First of all, my dear, have you heard any of the things I’ve been saying?” Maintaining eye contact was too much to ask for; her eyes would dart to his, then quickly fly away. Fine; Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Willow nodded. She was so tense, her body was as tight as a bowstring.

Brushing mussed hair from her face, and ignoring the resulting wince, he asked politely, “Could you give me an overview of what you heard, so I can fill you in on any bits you missed?”

Her wide-eyed nod as she got her thoughts in order reminded him of a five year old. Very fetching.

“Uh.” Her voice was phlegmy and hoarse, so she cleared her throat before she went on. Without pausing for breath, she said, “You, you worried the pinch hurt, told me not to hurt myself, said it’s a beautiful morning, breakfast would, would make me feel like new, asked did I want coffee or t-tea, wanted me to clarify my question, ummm, you said, you said, I was awake, not having a nightmare.” Fortunately for Angelus, her eyes were unfocused in concentration as she talked and she didn’t see his jaw flex or the thunderous anger that flared in his eyes when she said ‘nightmare’. “You told me how you’re you and, and that means Liam/Angelus/Angel, then Angelus again…sorta, yeah, and, you cussed, then…oh, told me to calm down, you wouldn’t hurt me, ummm, cuz, then why go to the trouble of giving me a nice room and my, my, my stuff, ahhh, tried again to make me eat, told me to hush on accounta I’d get hoarse, I d-d-don’t pose a physical threat, crying and hurting myself are bad for me aaaannnnddd umm, if I thought about it, you hadn’t tried to hurt me...I’m supposedly safe…then, you said, you’d let go if I behaved. Oh! Then! You said to look at you. That’s what you said up till you said to tell you what you’d said.” Willow nodded once. “That’s pretty much all.”

Angelus was impressed. Willow had an excellent memory…and, evidently, acute hearing since she’d repeated things he’d said while she was carrying on. The disparity between her sharp memory and babble stream amused him. He wasn’t pleased that she’d thought being here with him was like a nightmare, but she had made up for it by proving she hadn’t ignored him one bit. “Willow, that was very well done! Brava.” If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked the tiniest bit pleased at the praise. “It’s time for you to talk now.” She swallowed hard and he smirked. “I think that clever head of yours is probably full of questions. Let’s hear them.”

~Part: 5~

Willow had already been ill at ease, to say the least, perched on Angelus’ lap. When he asked her to voice whatever questions she had, she reminded him of a turtle retreating into its shell. He would wait her out. His continued silence would get to her eventually, and in the meantime, he enjoyed having her this close and watching her.

He intended to truthfully answer her questions…to a certain degree. So far he had been honest, but not *completely* forthcoming. He’d accurately described the Liam/Angelus/Angel elements of himself, while withholding aspects that would cause her to see him in a bad light. That’s exactly how he intended to proceed with her: truth tempered by omission.

The room was filled with morning light now and Angelus studied the flattering effects it had on Willow. The disarray of her beautiful red hair was very sexy and he loved the contrast it had with her creamy, pale face and neck. She was so pretty and delicate. The whimsical pink nightgown she wore must be old; repeated washings had worn the fabric thin. Very nice. Angelus was glad her eyes were directed elsewhere, because if she saw the gleam in his eyes and smirk on his face as he admired her body through her lightweight nightgown, she’d be mortified. She had a fantastic body, curbing his desire to run his hands over it was difficult. A quick glance at Strawberry Shortcake reminded him to keep his hands to himself. The cutesy little picture served as an important reminder to him. While Willow was extremely intelligent and mature, she was still a naïve child in many ways and couldn’t be pushed too fast to adapt to the parts of his nature that would intimidate and frighten her. Moving too quickly could scar her emotionally or stunt the growth he fully intended her to have into someone who saw him as wonderful. He gritted his teeth and vowed to stifle his baser tendencies in her presence…for now. Once he became her whole world, he’d slowly expose her to the realities of who he was. Kidnap victims were easy prey in the right hands and he was an old pro. The human mind was highly adaptable and as a result, captives quickly came to view captors in a positive light when handled correctly. Patience and caution would pay-off in the long term. Complete confidence in his expertise gave him optimism. Angelus grinned; nobody was more adept at mind games than him.

As he had predicted, the extended silence was getting to Willow. He schooled his features into a kind, inquisitive expression as she began to steal glances at his face. Squirming on his lap, she froze at the feel of her bottom moving his leg. God, he loved how it felt!

“Um,” Willow said, peeking at him through her eyelashes. “A-A-Angelus?” Her voice was unsteady, but she was working up the nerve to ask him something.

“Yes, Willow?” He said in what he hoped was an encouraging voice.

“Can I…May I please get up? I-I promise I won’t, uh, scream or fight or anything.” Her eyes were pleading; earnest and sincere. Clearly she didn’t want to displease him.

Angelus smiled compassionately. This was great progress. “If I say yes, will you eat something?”

Her eyes were so expressive; Angel had always loved that…and so did he. Right now they were conveying eagerness to comply as she nodded her head energetically.

Willow began to look around, anywhere but at his eyes as she blushed profusely. “I. Ohh. But first, before I eat, um. See, I need…” She groaned and he wondered what this new agitation was about. Then she said in a rush, “Please, may I use the restroom? I *swear* I’ll come right back.”

Realization and surprise filled Angelus’ face. *That* hadn’t even occurred to him. Poor lamb. “Of course!”

Willow scurried out of his lap and looked at him in question. It took him a second to interpret the silent question she was asking. “Oh! The door on your left on the other side of the bed.” Willow was still red as a beet as she made a beeline for the facilities.

“Well, duh!” Angelus said to himself as he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. He couldn’t *believe* he’d forgotten the common human need to pee when they first got up. He had missed a perfect opportunity in gaining her goodwill by anticipating the need and directing her to the bathroom first thing. Unintentionally, he’d made her ask something that made her very embarrassed. The blush had been charming, but causing her physical and emotional discomfort was unfortunate. *Not* a mistake he’d make twice, for damned sure.

Willow emerged from the restroom, managing to look both vastly relieved and timid at the same time.

Angelus automatically stood up at her re-entrance into the room.

At Willow’s look of dismay, Angelus inquired, “What?”

She didn’t immediately respond, just appeared sorry she’d done something to draw attention to herself. “Well, um, I’m not used to guys standing up when I enter a room, that’s all,” she said motioning in his direction.

Angelus snorted in disgust at the poor manners of modern society, then remembered himself and smiled graciously. “It’s common courtesy to stand when a lady enters the room.”

Willow didn’t have any idea how to respond to that and continued to stand awkwardly.

Angelus helped her out, rearranging the food cart and pulling chairs into position at a small table in front of the windows. “Willow, let me fetch a robe for you.”

His mention of a robe reminded her of her state of undress and she became more flustered, blushing again. “Oh!”

Angelus pulled a long, purple satin robe out of the armoire and took it to her, holding it for her to put on. She was glad to have something to cover herself, but obviously was not comfortable with him helping her with it. She moved away from him to tie the sash. He turned away to hide a grin at the hand she ran over the soft fabric as she looked down at it; she seemed to like the robe.

Moving to the dining table, he held her chair for her. When she didn’t move, he said, “Your chair, milady.”

“Oh!” Willow quickly walked to the chair, clearly concerned that she’d missed a cue. She was trying to be obedient and he was very pleased. Once she was settled in her chair, Angelus placed all the cart items on the table for her.

“The orange juice is fresh squeezed and the fruit salad and pastries are freshly made as well.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she murmured shyly, feeling discomfited at his waiting on her and the general frightening weirdness of the entire situation.

Angelus wanted to be sensitive to these things and thought it would alleviate some of her stress if he didn’t watch her eat. There was a newspaper on the breakfast cart, which he picked up to read. “Bon appetit, ma chére,” he said with a soft smile as he lifted the paper and began reading. Being very interested in the state of the world, he *did* read the articles, but he was also listening carefully to Willow and darting the occasional glance her way. Her heart wasn’t in it at first, but her appetite got the best of her and before long she was doing justice to the offered meal. Excellent. A full stomach would do her good, he thought. Evidently the food was to her liking; Angelus wanted to chuckle every time she said, “Mmm,” but he restrained himself. He was positive she wasn’t even aware that she was making the sounds. The picture of domesticity they presented amused him a great deal.

By the time he’d read everything of interest to him, Willow was finished eating and sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap. Her scent, heart-rate, and breathing all indicated agitation, but that was to be expected. Well, he thought, time to answer her questions.

Laying the folded paper neatly on the table, Angelus sat back in his chair, crossing his legs. “Willow, I’d be happy to address any questions you have now,” he smiled softly, “And I’m glad you enjoyed your breakfast.”

Angelus enjoyed the myriad of expressions that crossed her face. While he waited for her to organize her thoughts, he admired how she looked. Crying had given her a rosy glow and the robe flattered her. He had an eye for style; he had chosen well…both the robe *and* the young woman wearing it, he thought.

With a look of firm resolve, Willow began to speak, “I don’t understand *any* of this,” waving her hands at him and the room at large. “How did I get here?”

She had spoken very calmly considering her state of mind; Angelus thought things were going splendidly. To sustain conversational momentum, he’d continue his pattern of just covering the specific question she posed. “I brought you here last night while you were sleeping.”

Willow looked at him like he was off his rocker. “Huh.” Shaking her head as if to clear it, she said, “*Why*?”

Angelus leaned on the arm of the chair and said in a serious voice, “Darling Willow, your lifestyle was not beneficial to you at all.”

This answer perplexed her; she obviously hadn’t expected it at all and couldn’t make any sense of it. Angelus felt they that they were making great strides, her curiosity had taken over as her dominant emotion.

Willow’s eyes narrowed, “You…you…what? Why would you care? This just can’t be real. What lifestyle? *Beneficial*? All of the sudden you steal me from my house while I’m sleeping because my ‘lifestyle’ isn’t ‘beneficial’?” She made a little breathy ‘Huh’ sound of frustration and looked at him in disbelief.

Angelus was ecstatic. She was gaining courage from her extreme bafflement. He would’ve rubbed his hands together gleefully if it wouldn’t have ruined the moment. “Because, my dear, your potential is stifled every day of your life and you are in frequent danger.”

Willow’s mouth was ajar and she flopped against the chair back. “This is totally crazy. *You* are the current danger in Sunnydale…well, one of them anyway,” she said pointing at him. “You said so yourself at the school, when you were being all scary and threatening.” Willow gasped as she had a chilling thought, “You want to make me a vampire! That’s how you plan to ‘fix’ my lifestyle! Oh!! You want to kill me and vamp me to…to…to torture Buffy!”

Angelus raised his eyebrows. He could’ve done without mention of the Slayer; she was such a buzz kill. “Rest assured, you are perfectly safe here. I would never turn you…unless, of course, you asked me to, then we could discuss it. I apologize for my behavior at the school, by the way. I behaved rashly and I’m sorry if I upset you. I was…out of sorts after my century long, uh, internment. As to the Slayer,” he pursed his lips in distaste, “*She* is relevant to exactly nothing.”

Willow’s mouth worked as she sat there flabbergasted. Eventually she got her next words out, “Buffy will find me and save me.”

Angelus looked at her intently, “Your absence will be explained to the satisfaction of everyone who will be aware of it. And, sweet Willow, you *have* been saved,” he placed his hand on his chest, “By me.”

The phone rang as Willow tried to make sense of those statements. Angelus rose to answer it, saying, “Pardon me.” After a brief conversation he hung up the phone and returned to Willow.

“I’m so sorry, my dear, a matter requires my attention and I must leave you for awhile. We’ll have to continue our conversation later. Everything you might need for your morning ablutions is in the bathroom. You can familiarize yourself with your room. I think you’ll be pleased with the available entertainments. The house phone doesn’t have an outside line, but the extensions are listed on it. Ring James in the kitchen if you need anything. The staff were carefully chosen and are absolutely discreet; they will happily serve your needs, but your leaving is out of the question and they know it. Please don’t bother appealing to them if you desire escape.” He smiled at her brightly, “I hope you have a nice morning. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I must go.”

Angelus ignored her indignant sputtering of, “But…but…but,” and turned to her as he opened the door.

“Ciao, darling, see you soon,” he said as he exited and shut the door behind him.

~Part: 6~

Angelus stood at the bar scanning the crowd. He needed two things soon: sex and a nice kill. He was horny and hungry. If he didn’t get his hungers assuaged soon he’d go fucking nuts. Women had been throwing themselves at him since he’d walked in, but none of them would do. These days his tastes ran to something more refined and less overt than he was seeing here. This place was a trendy club and its patrons were mostly in their twenties. He’d intentionally steered clear of places he might run into Buffy. He was in no mood to deal with her shit. Being the obsessive type, his attention didn’t stray far from that trait’s present object: The Promising Willow.

A warm hand slid across the one he had resting on the bar. He raised a brow and looked haughtily at the owner’s face. Pretty blue eyes looked up at him invitingly. Instead of being frightened by his fierce glare, the woman’s entire body released the scent of desire in response. Angelus had been repressing so much sexual energy that his current needs focused on her like a heat seeking missile. He studied her face’s great bone structure, perfect teeth, elegant features, and expertly applied make-up. She had long strawberry blond hair, cut to curl around her face and cascade down her back. Blatantly perusing the rest of her, still not speaking, he noted that her body, dressed in a short black skirt and midriff baring tube top was perfect *and* easily accessible. She hadn’t been the least bit self-conscious of his rude study of her assets. She wasn’t exactly what he was looking for, but she was sending the ‘easy pickins’ signal. She’d do.

Smiling confidently, she said, “I’m Caroline,” She didn’t seem to have a shred of doubt that she’d met with his approval.

He produced his patented seductive smile. “Angelus”

Caroline ran her hand further up his arm as she moved closer, caressing the silk of his shirt. “Angelus, hmm, interesting name. Why is it that the sexiest guy in the place is alone?”

“I have very specific tastes,” he replied dryly.

She squeezed his arm, placed her other hand on his chest and leaned closer yet, whispering, “I’m specifically tasty.”

Angelus gave her a predatory smile and said, “I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s get out of here. This place is tiresome.” Taking her hand, he led her out the door.

Struggling to keep up, her high heels clicking rapidly, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“For a taste test,” he told her as he continued to pull her along. “If you pass, you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

With a throaty laugh, she asked, “Promise?”

“Yes.” He took her to a deserted park across the street and spotted a picnic table in a dark secluded spot.

As she realized their intended destination, fear mingled with her already pervasive scent of desire. “Wait! I don’t know…”

Angelus turned to her and placed his hands on her thighs, sliding them up the sides, taking the short skirt up to her waist while lifting her to sit on the table. Before she could object further, he kissed her open mouth deeply…he didn’t want screams…might draw attention. His ploy worked; now she was all about cooperation. Unfastening his pants with one hand, he pulled her top down with the other. The kiss had dazed her; in a swift move he ripped her panties at the crotch and entered her savagely. She didn’t resist at all when he grabbed her hips to hold her in place as he pumped into her with all the built up frustration Willow and abstinence had caused. “Oh, yeah,” he growled. He was about to come and needed more fear from her. “Look at me!” She did and his true face did the trick. He inhaled the fear and buried his fangs in her neck. He came as he drained her; her body’s last act was an orgasm that treated his taste buds and cock to a satisfying finale.

As she dropped to the table, Angelus sighed contentedly. “See Caroline? I sent you to heaven, and then you died. Who said you can’t trust guys you meet in bars?” Fastening his pants, he looked around for a big bush. Locating one, he tossed her into it, “Tasty *and* filling. Good girl.”

Angelus sat down at the picnic table and savored the lingering aromas. Today had been very productive. He smiled and reminisced about how well Willow’s introduction to her captivity had gone. His little redhead was such a delight. Originally he’d intended to return to her room today, but several matters had demanded his time. This was better. The limited answers he had given her would provide substantial food for thought. A day spent alone should make her grateful for his company on their next visit as well as give her time to grow more curious. The longer she waited for answers the less shy and reticent she’d be about demanding them. Frustration would make her braver.

James had reported that she had a hearty appetite. For such a petite flower, she sure as hell could put the food away. For lunch she’d had a cheeseburger, French fries, a coke and apple pie á la mode. Soon after, she’d requested more cokes and something called “Cheetos.” Dinner had consisted of lobster, steak, broccoli and a root beer float. Angelus frowned; he’d have to monitor her weight. She could use to gain a few pounds, but he liked her just the way she was. He remembered Angel observing her massive food intake and marveling at her impressive metabolism. He shrugged and thought, time would tell. In the meantime, James’ assistant earned his keep by scurrying to the market frequently to satisfy her culinary desires.

Evidently she was very understanding that the staff was only allowed minimal communication with her. Reports indicated that she was concerned about getting them into trouble and cooperated in keeping conversation brief. Angelus smirked; he wasn’t the least bit surprised at her show of consideration for the well being of others.

Cameras monitored her and told him of her entertainments. She was eclectic as the dickens, he thought fondly. A lot of time had been spent in deep contemplation, naturally; she had much to think about. She would nibble at her cuticles, work herself into a snit, express some righteous anger by kicking and throwing things to blow off steam, then distract herself with a less aggravating pastime. By the time she saw him next, she’d be pissed off enough at him to temporarily forget her fear. That was the idea, at least. He had enjoyed watching her fits of temper a great deal. She could be a spitfire. He couldn’t fathom her enjoyment of various and sundry cartoons…but he had seen the evidence of it with his own eyes. A small, hidden room attached to his bedroom housed a television he could watch her on in living color…several times today he’d taken advantage of it. She had read for a while as well. Her wonderfully expressive face had shown great concern for Fanny in Jane Austen’s ‘Mansfield Park’. Willow was such a compassionate creature.

Angelus was a little taken back at how quickly Willow appeared to be adapting, but inordinately pleased. She just had a gift for making the most of any situation, he supposed. Certainly a desirable quality. He chuckled, pretty useful to him as well.

Several matters had occupied him throughout the day. He’d efficiently covered every base. Among other things, he’d insured that no one would realize that one Willow Rosenberg had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth. There would be no reason to question the validity or plausibility of her absence from Sunnydale. He was such a clever devil. Angelus had also tackled several business issues. Angel had maintained the wealth, but a forward thinking vampire *built* it in order to support himself in the style to which he was accustomed…indefinitely…eternity was a long time and an expensive luxury. Earlier he’d sent someone to pack up Angel’s slacks and deliver them to the house. They were tasteful and would do in a pinch. His clothing purchases were centering on Willow for now. He had discovered the joys of credit cards and catalogs; modern innovations he heartily approved of. He’d been ordering up a storm. It would be like Christmas when the deliveries started arriving. He’d been having a ball; it had been a long time since he’d had a woman to shop for and he’d missed it. His impression of Willow’s fashion sense was that it wasn’t so much lacking, as it was a lack of interest. Once she gained more confidence she’d probably choose to dress differently. Regardless of how it panned out, he didn’t like the clothes she typically wore and was going to fix it. Right now she probably wouldn’t put up a fuss, she had bigger fish to fry.

Ah well, he thought, while it was fun thinking about dressing his little doll, he had other irons in the fire that needed tending to. Spike and Dru’s hare brained scheme with The Judge needed squashed straightaway. What were those two thinking? Admittedly Dru was a lunatic, but it still defied reason that they’d think destroying humanity, a.k.a. their food source, was a bright idea. Dipshits! How had they survived for a century without him to look after them for fucksake?! Basic self preservation was definitely lacking in their recent actions. Spike was letting animosity for the current Slayer rule his head. He’d always been such a rash boy, Angelus thought with annoyance.

As much as he’d enjoyed his little trip to the park, it was time to make a few inquiries and see where the situation stood regarding his errant progeny. The sooner he rectified this mess, the sooner he could get home to more enjoyable pursuits.

Angelus stood, made sure he was presentable, and whistled a jaunty tune as he left the park in search of answers.

~Part: 7~

Angelus was lying on his bed lost in thought; the book he’d been reading had fallen on his chest forgotten. The Slayer had destroyed The Judge. He sure as hell wouldn’t be sending her a fruit basket, but she *had* been a handy tool twice this week. “Buffy the Vampire Aider,” he said to himself in an amused voice.

It had been a pleasant surprise to find that Spike and Drusilla’s ill-conceived plan had already been foiled by the Slayer. It saved him a visit that he hadn’t wanted to make: he was still pissed that they had been so anxious to let The Judge at him when the soul still had control of this body. Ingrates! Never mind that they had inadvertently helped set the scene for the Angel/Slayer bliss that had ultimately vanquished the soul. Their *intentional* actions were the ones that burned his ass. Sooner or later he’d have to deal with them personally, but for now he’d just monitor them from a distance. If Spike and Dru had a whit of sense they’d just leave town, at least until Spike healed up. Interaction with them would just lead to questions that would potentially interfere with his mission. For the time being he didn’t want the “Damned Duo” anywhere near Willow. Yes, for now he’d avoid them; when the time was right he’d dole out their deserved punishments and make the proper introductions. Of course, Drusilla’s “sight” would tip them off that *something* was up…but he was too familiar with the vagaries of her visions to be concerned about them.

Angelus sighed and closed his book, placing it on the nightstand. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on reading anyway; his thoughts kept straying. His next visit with Willow should be very interesting…she’d had lots of time to stew in her own juices. A glance at the ornate clock on his dresser told him it was 8 a.m. Time to check his television: the little darling should be up and about by now.

Sure enough, Willow was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The breakfast cart was by the door, empty plate and serving dishes neatly stacked. Idly, he wondered what she had eaten. She was pacing the room, hands clasped behind her back, frowning at the floor. “No answers there, sweetheart,” he said to the image on the screen with a chuckle. She looked very pretty in the outfit she’d chosen for the day: slim fitting black cigarette pants that complemented her long legs and delightful little ass, a fitted turquoise button down shirt with ¾ length sleeves, and simple, elegant black loafers that completed the smart look. The clothes he had purchased for her fit perfectly and seeing her in them gave him great satisfaction. Of course, she had no alternative, as the contents of her closet, armoire and dresser were exclusively items provided by him. Nevertheless, she looked sharp and well put together and he loved it. The new Willow would always be dressed well, no matter what the occasion, he thought with pride. He took a moment to admire how her shiny hair moved as she did, and decided the time was right for their next encounter. As he turned to leave the small surveillance room, he realized he’d gotten hard just watching her pace. No surprise there, she had the feistiness of annoyance in her stride as she paced and looked splendid in her new ensemble. Well, he thought with a smirk, the truth was, he was anxious to fuck her no matter what she was--or wasn’t--wearing. Heading to the bathroom, he decided to make a pit stop before his visit. A little ‘spank the monkey’ was in order to prevent frightening his little angel by sporting a stiff dick in her presence. He consoled himself with the knowledge that very soon relief would be coming from the hot little package down the hall instead of his own hand. If his plans continued on this smooth course, as they had been thus far, Willow would be in his bed pleasuring him in no time. Anticipation of that day made him even harder. “Yes, my dove, very soon outside sources and jerking off will not be substituting for you,” he murmured to himself as he undressed and climbed into the hot shower to partake in a little ‘Willow fucking’ fantasy.

After his shower he felt refreshed and relaxed. Dressing in a bland pair of Angel’s slacks, he chose a red velvet shirt to liven up the look. Satisfied that he was impressively dashing, he lamented his lack of reflection: such a shame, he thought, to look this good and not be able to admire yourself. Ah, well, such is life. Shrugging, he whistled a jaunty ditty as he headed to Willow’s room with a bounce in his step.

Angelus rapped sharply on Willow’s door, then unlocked it and entered her room. Smiling beatifically at her when she looked up at him, he said, “Good mornin’ me darlin’, ye look bonny.”

Willow stopped her pacing and pointed at him, “You, you…. Oh!” She was glaring fiercely. Words were failing her now that she was in his presence and he was gratified to see that annoyance wasn’t the only cause. She was flustered and blushing. “Thank you,” She said reluctantly. Apparently, even in extreme circumstances, she wasn’t able to abandon good manners. Willow placed her fisted hands on her hips and said, “Listen mister, if you think you can just kidnap me and leave me alone all this time and then just waltz in here and try to charm me with, with compliments and, and, and an Irish brogue, you’re dead wrong.” She made a chagrined face then corrected herself, “Bad word choice, I mean…just wrong.”

Her show of temper was joy to behold. Willow’s inherent sweetness took off any edge she might’ve intended. He wanted to chuckle at how affected she was by his accent, but kept it to himself: provoking her further wasn’t in his best interest. The brogue *always* worked on American women, he thought arrogantly. Schooling his features, he hoped he appeared pleasant and humble. “Well, Willow, you *do* look especially lovely this fine morning.” He remained just inside the door and clasped his hands behind his back. Not wanting to frighten her out of her righteous anger, he would wait to venture further into the room. “As to the accent of my homeland…it crops up of its own volition on occasion.” This was true, however, today it had been intentional.

Scowling, Willow marched up to him and looked him in the eye, demanding, “What the heck is going on here? You, you kidnap me, bring me to this place, give me some vague answers, then just leave!” At the end of her outburst, she must’ve remembered who she was talking to, because she backed up a few steps and looked uncertain.

On a whim he couldn’t resist, he said with a charming grin, “Did you miss me, then?”

Willow’s mouth opened wide in indignation. After some sputtering and false starts, she threw her arms up and huffed, “Oh!” Turning her back on him she flounced over to the sofa and plopped herself down.

Frustration was getting the better of her, Angelus observed. He was delighted her fear had taken a backseat again. He walked over to the sofa and took a seat, leaving a couple of feet between them. Willow watched him suspiciously. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry to have left you alone for so long without more answers. It was unavoidable. When you’re out of circulation for nearly a century, like I was, you get behind on your obligations and responsibilities. Catching up is a bitch.” His voice oozed as much sincerity as he could manage.

Willow didn’t reply, she just crossed her arms over her chest and continued to glare at him.

Resting an arm on the back of the sofa, Angelus faced her, continuing to smile. “I’m all yours now. We can talk about anything you’d like.” He crossed his legs and waited for her to speak.

Willow nodded and gathered her thoughts. His expression said he was patiently waiting for her to speak, but he was thinking how grand it was that his mere presence scattered her thoughts and caused her to smell of desire…just a bit. Even a small amount was a victory for him this early in the game.

Wiping her sweaty palms on her pant legs, several emotions crossed her face in rapid succession. She fidgeted under his gaze, but curiosity won the day. “What…what did you mean when you said, um, that my absence would be explained?” Willow awaited his answer with narrowed eyes, uncertain what to do with her hands.

Angelus watched her hands seek a resting place; finally she slid them under her thighs. Probably due to the sweaty palms, he thought. He relished the relative calm of the conversation. Things couldn’t be going better. The only challenge for him was to keep the satisfied gleam out of his eyes. “You were invited to join a prestigious program for the exceptionally gifted. They only had one spot available, so time was of the essence and you had to leave immediately. Otherwise you would’ve lost out on a once in a lifetime opportunity. When your parents were informed that you had been hand picked to receive this rare chance to study with such an elite group, they were thrilled and proud. They were also told that it was their responsibility to notify your school of the transfer, which they did, posthaste.”

Willow visibly deflated at the news and her eyes filled with tears. In a choked voice that held little conviction, she asked, “Don’t you think my parents and friends will be suspicious when they don’t hear from me?”

Angelus’ plans hinged on Willow’s acceptance of her situation. The sooner she gave up ideas of “rescue,” the sooner she’d resign herself to her new reality. This was an important brick in the wall he was erecting between her and her old life. In an effort to appear comforting in a troubling time, he slid his hand from the back of the sofa to her shoulder and massaged gently. Ignoring the fact that she stiffened at his touch, he replied softly, “They *will* hear from you, Willow. E-mails will be sent semi-regularly from your address. Everyone will think they are from you. It’s a modern school that insists on e-mail in lieu of letters and phone calls. They will come to understand that “you” are kept very busy with the accelerated curriculum and can’t correspond as frequently as “you’d” like. Your parents and friends will be happy when “you” tell them how exciting your studies are.”

Willow’s eyes had glazed over and the tears in her eyes began to fall down her cheeks. Angelus patiently waited to see what would come next and continued to rub her shoulder with his thumb and fingers. She continued to cry silently, apparently no longer aware of his touch. Her mind was absorbing that her former ties were broken. The predator in him recognized the signs of emotional surrender and was ecstatic. Sympathetic mask in place, he reveled in the smell of her tears and despair. He anticipated that her next move would probably be to lash out in angry frustration, so he didn’t have anything to lose by taking this opportunity to feel her next to him. Gathering her limp body in his arms, he held her close and buried his face in her hair.

Her scents were delicious as she began to sob brokenly. Angelus’ hands caressed her back and enjoyed the feel of her. Her bleak emotions and tempting body made his cock so hard! He kept his hands desire to roam in check by reminding himself that that phase would come soon. He consoled himself with visions of her naked and willing beneath him as he fucked her hard. His hands kneaded her back as his imagination added her thrusting hips and begging to the fantasy.

Angelus was so wrapped up in his erotic mental images that he didn’t immediately notice Willow’s pounding fists on his chest. “Let go of me!” She yelled as she tried to shove him away. His mind snapped back to reality and he let her go. She immediately got off the couch, stumbling backwards in her haste, and wiped at her tears with her palms. “You, you…don’t touch me,” she said trying to catch her breath. Her eyes flew around the room, then she dashed toward the bathroom. “Just leave me alone,” She said as she slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it behind her.

He could hear her crying harder as she blew her nose. Angelus rose slowly, the bulge in his pants causing discomfort, and grinned slyly. Stroking his aching cock through the mercifully loose cloth of his slacks, he murmured, “Soon you’ll see that I only have your best interests at heart.” Even *he* wasn’t sure if he was referring to Willow or his unsatisfied dick as he quietly granted her request and left the room.

~Part: 8~

Angelus drove around Sunnydale considering his options. Predictably, Willow had cried and moped the entire day. Her discovery that morning that no one would come looking for her had hit her hard. She had eaten very little, but that didn’t concern him overmuch: recent history showed that she had a very…resilient appetite. Throughout the day he had observed her heartache on his monitor and soaked it up like a sponge; Willow was never a disappointment. The pleasure he took in her misery was two-fold: once she got past thoughts that her old life was there for her, she’d inadvertently open her mind to new possibilities. You could call it survival instinct or victim’s mentality or whatever you wanted. He was an old hand at this and thus far Willow had been a textbook case.

As he continued to cruise the streets, pondering his next move, he had an unpleasant thought. He was on familiar ground with abduction and psychological manipulation of captives, but his ultimate intentions for Willow were previously unexplored territory for him. Unconsciously, he made a low, menacing growl that reverberated through the silent interior of the car. What if…? God, he felt foolish playing the devil’s advocate. He *was* the devil for crissake! Irritably, he followed the train of thought that stubbornly wouldn’t go away: what if, in the end, Willow didn’t feel the same…‘connection’ to him that he felt to her? Impossible! Women *always* wanted him…he had it all; looks, brains, style, charisma…looks.

Scowling at the passing buildings, he reluctantly admitted the truth to himself. He didn’t *know*. This was freaking perplexing. He’d sensed, on an instinctual level, that he and Willow were fated to be together. What about *her*? Absolutely she felt desire for him. That was a fact…the scent had given her away a number of times. But what about the overwhelming sense of, of…kismet that he’d felt so strongly in his gut? Surely something that absolute was a two-way street!

Suddenly he pulled up to an abandoned building and hit the brakes. All the time you read about stalkers that are convinced that their victims share their feelings. “NO!” He roared as he backhanded the passenger seat. This situation was unique and *not* to be compared to unhinged stalkers. Jesus! He rubbed his face vigorously then pushed his fingers through his hair. The truth was, he grudgingly confessed to himself, that he was dealing with something entirely new to him and felt insecure. He flung his head against the headrest, “What bullshit!” Whatever was between him and Willow was meant to be and that was that. Finito.

These ridiculous mental meanderings were baseless and he would not entertain them further. He knew what the problem was! Since he’d been back, he’d been playing house with Willow and ‘catch-up’ on his connections and finances. Those things were important to his existence, but so was appeasing his natural needs. He’d been getting by on minimal feeding and fucking. What he needed was the real thing. He slammed out of the car intent on the hunt. Tonight there would be blood and death and his vampire nature would get its fill. He wouldn’t stop until he felt like himself again. No holds barred, he thought as he sniffed the air for prey.

~~~*~~~

Angelus felt great. He whistled as he cockily sauntered toward his car. Tonight he’d had more blood, sex and carnage than some vampires had in a year. He was *back* and it felt fantastic.

There was nothing like the sight and smell of terrified victims. That moment of realization when they *know* they’re going to die at your hands was glorious. He’d fed on a couple of real fighters tonight, too, and that made their blood particularly potent and satisfying: all that adrenaline and bravado was so zesty on his tongue and he could feel the power of it flowing through him. This night he had tasted every extreme emotion a victim could possibly feel and it was a rare treat. He’d had a buffet of considerable variety. Not a one of them had had the bland taste of resignation. Humans offered a vast array of superb flavors to sample. Some nights you just got lucky.

He admired his car as he unlocked it with the handy button on his key ring. Vehicles had come a long way. This one was a shiny new black Mercedes S-430. It suited his mood to a tee. He loved the twentieth century. Being a vampire in the modern world had a lot to recommend it.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he felt lighthearted and invigorated. He was ready for anything. Driving home, his thoughts returned to Willow. What had she done tonight in his absence? Was she sorry that she had told him to leave her alone? He remained undecided about how to handle that. He *could* leave her alone and teach her a lesson about being careful of what you asked for. Loneliness was potent stuff. The problem was, he didn’t *want* to leave her alone.

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled into the garage, he thought hard. Maybe he’d just check the ‘Willow monitor’ and let her activities be his guide.

He got out of the car and strolled into the quiet house, excited at the prospect of seeing Willow.

Once he was in his observation room, he pressed buttons, cueing the various cameras until he found her. He hit pay dirt with the one aimed at the bed. She was sound asleep, mouth slightly open. Good. He could visit her and she wouldn’t know it.

Quietly entering her room, he crept over to the bed and looked down at her. She was so lovely. Tonight she was wearing a gown he had purchased for her. It was white satin with wide shoulder straps. The cut and color made her look demure, but the smooth fabric clung to her body, revealing its sexiness in great detail. She was on her back and must’ve tossed and turned because the covers were just below her waist. One arm was curved over her head and the other was flung out to the side. Angelus swallowed and carefully sat down next to her.

Talk about a room with a view. Angelus’ eyes traveled over her, taking in every visible inch. He longed to touch her, but couldn’t risk waking her. Instead, he smoothed the glossy strands of hair splayed on the pillow. It was so soft and silky beneath his fingers. He savored the intimacy of the moment. Soon she would be his. The patience he’d exhibited with Willow was unprecedented for him. He was astonished he didn’t resent it.

As she lay there looking virginal and erotic in the white satin, he knew it was worth the wait. Their first time as lovers would be sublime. He would be laying the foundation for their future together, so he would make it perfect for her. He would show her the great heights of pleasure her nubile young body was capable of. Willow would worship the ground he walked on once he’d shown her that any sexual fantasies she’d had were nothing compared to what only he could do to her.

As if reading his mind, she moaned in her sleep and writhed slightly. He remained perfectly still as her delicate fingers wrapped themselves in the hem of his un-tucked shirt. His gaze was intense as he watched and listened for signs of her waking. Her heartbeat and breathing increased slightly, but she remained asleep. She was dreaming again. Oh, yes! And there was the delectable telltale scent that informed him of the nature of her dream. God, he’d love to know who was doing what to her in that pretty little head of hers. Would she even remember come morning? If not, judging by the thick, intoxicating aroma in the air, she’d certainly have sticky thighs to nudge her memory.

Smirking, Angelus made a mental note to view her facial expressions when she woke. All of the hidden cameras in the room taped her, so he was able to view all of her activities, even when he wasn’t present at the time.

Willow’s grip tightened on his shirt and she rolled to her side, murmuring, “Ohhhh.” The movement caused her head to nestle against his knee. He reveled in the contact and was relieved that she slept on. Angelus lifted a brow and knew he’d be seriously screwed if she woke up now. He’d just have to think fast and come up with a plausible explanation.

He rolled his eyes and moaned softly at the exquisite torture of remaining still as his erection throbbed demandingly. Her new position beautifully displayed her magnificent ass encased in satin. Christ! He was sorely tempted to reach out and caress it and give it a squeeze. Willow added to his frustration by making breathy little sounds of desire.

All signs indicated continuing sleep. That was it. He was going to indulge himself in some nocturnal fantasies of his own. Moving cautiously so he wouldn’t jar her, he began to stroke his cock through his pants. Closing his eyes, he pictured Willow standing in front of him, pulling him towards her by the front of his unbuttoned shirt. Standing on her toes, she kissed him possessively, expertly claiming his mouth with her tongue. Her warm hand unfastened his pants and snaked inside to wrap around his dick. She applied perfect pressure as it slid up and down his shaft. Intermittently on her down stroke she’d reach down and give his balls a squeeze. Her other hand rubbed his chest and brutally pinched a nipple. Looking at him provocatively through her eyelashes, she gave him a knowing look that said she knew that she had him in the palm of her hand, both literally and figuratively. She moved to suck his other nipple into her hot, wet mouth. Her blunt teeth held it in place as she flicked it with her tongue. Her fingers and teeth applied the precise amount of pain he craved.

Through a haze of lust, he grabbed her naked hips and sat her on the back of the sofa. Burying himself between her white, creamy thighs, he plunged into her drenched heat and sank his fangs into her firm breast, drinking deeply. God, she felt and tasted so good! Willow cried out in ecstasy as an orgasm overtook her. Her hips bucked against him, begging for more while her inner muscles gripped him. Fucking her hard and deep, giving her exactly what she wanted, his mouth moved to the elegant column of her neck and he continued to drink her in.

Oh fuck! Yes! He came with a gush and his mouth filled with his own blood as he bit his tongue in an effort to contain his shout. Once his mind cleared from the rush, his eyes flew to Willow’s face. Still asleep. Amazing. He had gotten a bit carried away there. It had felt so freaking *real*. Either this little girl was a very sound sleeper or self-preservation had kept him reasonably still while he was in the throes of his fantasy.

Well, he thought disgustedly, he’d certainly pay the price for taking such a foolish risk. Until the sleeping temptress let go of his shirt, he had to sit here in cum soaked pants. There was nothing like a soggy crotch to remind a horny vampire of his folly. Act in haste, repent in leisure, he lamented as he settled in to wait her out. Sighing resignedly, he figured that at least he’d gotten one hell of a hot, imaginary fuck out of the deal.

~Part: 9~

Angelus had been sitting next to Willow as she slept for quite some time. At first he’d just intended to wait until she relinquished her death grip on his shirt. When she showed no signs of doing so, he decided his need for a shower and change of pants required some creative thinking. He’d slipped out of his shirt, leaving it in her hand and left to go clean up. On his return, she was *still* clutching his shirttail. Very well, then. Angelus returned to his room, retrieved his book and maneuvered back into his shirt that Willow had claimed with her fist.

The amused vampire didn’t mind remaining at her side. He had a ready explanation for his presence if she woke, a good book, and a lot to think about.

Willow didn’t look like an insecure girl when she slept, Angelus thought as he watched her. The white satin nightgown and her pale, flawless skin combined to give her a look of ethereal beauty. Her sleep mussed hair suited her better than the rather rigidly tidy styles she always wore. All in all, she looked like a sensual, interesting woman as she lay there.

In truth, he thought, Willow’s public self did not reflect her private self at all. He should know, since he’d certainly observed her enough when she was alone. When by herself, she was in turns focused, efficient, determined, contemplative, productive and most certainly, he smirked, sexual.

Willow Rosenberg was an intelligent and complicated individual. While the ‘shrinking violet’ was part of her makeup, she was mostly comprised of sterner stuff. It was time to up the ante, Angelus decided firmly. Whether she let go of his shirt or not, he’d stay right where he was until she woke up. That tactic had worked well for him last time, after all. She was discombobulated first thing in the morning and her defenses were down. It was the perfect scenario for moving the relationship to the next level. He felt confident that she was now established in something of a comfort zone: she’d been shown no reason to fear him, been treated and fed well, and had all kinds of comforts and entertainments at her disposal. Willow would be needing company after spending so much time alone, too. His might not be the company she would’ve chosen, but it wasn’t like she had alternatives. The timing was perfect.

Willow’s hand moved and wrapped itself tighter in his shirt. Unknowingly, she was reeling him in. Accommodatingly, Angelus laid down next to her, propped up on his elbow. Toeing his shoes off so that they dropped to the floor, he settled into his new position. He smiled as he thought how appalled she would be if she knew she was, literally, pulling him into her bed.

It was a pity she wasn’t having any more dreams as he whiled the time away. Just as well, he sighed to himself, he had a plan to formulate. Willow had already proven that she had a steel-trap memory, even in times of stress. He must choose his words carefully and stay on his toes with her.

When Angelus felt reasonably sure he had his ducks in order and was prepared for his next encounter with her, he propped his book on the headboard and began to read. It was a marvelous book and her body heat, heartbeat, scent, and breathing were pleasant and relaxing. He had missed sharing a bed with a woman, and a human one had its perks.

He must’ve dozed off because he woke with a start when he felt an abrupt movement beside him. The room was filled with soft morning light and Willow was sitting up, staring at him, looking drowsy and confused.

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” he said with a smile in a cheery, if sleep roughened, voice. “I trust you slept well?”

Willow blinked slowly and continued to stare at him. He stayed put, not wanting to startle her further and awaited her next move. Her mouth opened slightly and her brow furrowed. Her eyes traveled from his face and followed his outstretched arm to the book laying beneath his hand. “Huh,” She said and carefully reached out and gave his arm a sharp pinch.

“Ow!” Angelus raised an amused brow, “Darlin’, I think I liked it better when you pinched yourself upon waking.”

Willow looked more perplexed than alarmed. “What…what?” She blinked again. “Uh…you’re reading in my bed?”

Since she hadn’t moved away from him, he didn’t move either. “Actually, no. Technically, I was sleeping. It’s an excellent book, but I must’ve nodded off.”

Willow pursed her lips and glared at him. “Here? Why here?”

Angelus grinned and replied, “Because you wouldn’t let go of me.” He nodded at her hand that was still holding his shirt.

Willow’s eyes flew to her hand and, with a gasp, she yanked it away as if it had been scalded. Scooting to the far side of the bed, she said, “I…I…I,” She stopped and frowned at him. “What were you doing here to begin with?”

Her heart was pounding rapidly, but she just appeared to be aggravated and suspicious. Angelus was pleased: here they were, together on her bed, and fear hadn’t reared its head. Excellent progress, he thought smugly, as he answered her, “I was passing your room last night and you sounded distressed. I was concerned, so I came in to check on you. You must’ve just been having a dream.”

Willow blushed profusely, turning bright red from hairline to neckline.

Obviously she remembered what she had dreamt about. It required some effort for Angelus to keep from showing his amusement. “Once you latched on to me, I was stuck,” he said with a helpless shrug. “You’ve been having quite a time of it lately and needed your rest.” He was having so much fun and wanted to reiterate that *she* had held onto *him*. Continuing in a serious and considerate tone of voice, he said, “So, I didn’t want to chance disturbing you by forcefully removing your hand from me.”

Willow looked chagrined and at a loss for words. Finally, she squeaked something that sounded like, “Oh.”

He just watched her and thought idly that it was amazing that gravity allowed all that blood to stay in her face, neck and chest for so long. Evidently, Willow’s acute embarrassment enabled her to defy the laws of physics. Ah, he loved her discomfort; it had a sweet/tart smell that he could just take in all day. She was delicious in so many ways. A veritable banquet for his acute demon senses. Fate had been very generous in gifting him with this delightful young woman.

Keeping a distrustful eye on him, Willow slid off the bed and hurried to the armoire. Angelus took advantage of the opportunity to inspect her. He had chosen well; the nightgown’s low cut showed off her pristine back and contoured lovingly to her high, tight bottom. It was full length and the cut allowed it to swirl around her lower legs enticingly. He loved that Willow’s body had no flaws to hide…just beautifully proportioned perfection. She pulled the matching robe out and hastily donned it. “Excuse me,” she muttered with her head down and went directly to the bathroom.

Angelus rolled onto his back contentedly and chuckled at the ceiling. What would that shy little girl have thought if she knew his real reaction to her pinch? He replayed the moment in his head. She’d looked so sexy sitting there; nipples prominent, hair tousled. The sting she’d inflicted with the pinch had made his cock jump. The urge to push her down on the bed, burying his cock and fangs in her, had been intense. That day would come, he told himself with an evil grin. His acting skills were superb and surely would have the desired results. Standing up, he smoothed the wrinkles from his clothes as best he could.

Willow emerged from the bathroom, hair brushed, looking refreshed. She stood several feet away from him with her arms crossed. Clearly she wanted to say something, but was too unnerved to do anything about it.

Angelus looked at her encouragingly and said, “Let’s chat, shall we?” He motioned to the sofa. She turned her head to look at it and he went to her, placing a hand at the small of her back to guide her. She tensed at his touch and her heart missed a couple of beats. Obediently, she walked over and sat down, eyes directed at her lap.

He gave her space, but not too much, as he seated himself. The busy staccato of her heart had the blood rushing through her and it was distracting. Taking command of his senses, he said quietly, “I can’t know what’s going on in your mind unless you tell me, Willow.”

She nodded and sat up straight. Slowly her eyes found their way to his…and stayed there. Good girl, he thought proudly.

“I…I…I…” She folded her hands, knuckles white, and forced herself to go on. “You scare me. I’m scared.”

Angelus nodded thoughtfully, “I see.” He checked himself, kind expression in place. “What have I done to scare you?” He asked with sincere interest.

Willow blew out a puff of air and rolled her eyes, making it abundantly clear she thought that was a stupid question.

He waited. Silence worked like a charm with this girl.

Willow swallowed. “Okay.” She glanced around nervously before focusing on him again. “You’re a d-d-demon…a vampire…and that’s never good. Well, almost never good. Angel was good. He was *still* a man, though…well, you know, a guy vampire.” Hand motions joined her words as she picked up momentum and Angelus was having a hell of a good time. “So…so, he was still kinda scary. I mean, in a ‘hot guys are scary’ sorta way…not a ‘grrrrr’ way. Then he…now, um, you’re you, I mean. A demon *and* a guy…who’s…who’s scary. You know, I’m not used to being alone in a bedroom with a man…not allowed, even. Plus, the food chain.” She took a breath and summed up. “I’m kidnapped, alone with a demon guy in a b-b-bedroom and I’m food. Scary.” Her chest was pounding, but she looked relieved to have spoken her mind.

Angelus’ face conveyed understanding and he nodded sagely. “Willow, I hear your concerns. Let me assure you again, I mean you no harm. While it’s true that I’m a vampire, you are *not* a meal to me. You have my word. My intention is to improve your life, not take it. I see your skepticism. All I can do is let my actions speak for themselves. As to your attraction to me…”

Willow’s face colored and she stammered an interruption, “I-I-I just said…”

Angelus put a hand up to stop her, consciously sustaining an easy-going, non-threatening air. “Honesty is important between us, Willow. You found Angel attractive; this face, this body. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He was attracted to you, too, as am I.” Willow’s mouth dropped open and he smiled softly. “You’re surprised. Don’t be. You are a beautiful young woman who hasn’t begun to see her own appealing attributes. In time you will.”

Willow’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Big green eyes stared at him, agog. “B-but, I’m not. Men don’t find me attractive.”

Angelus’ jaw flexed in irritation, but he stayed the course. “Perhaps stupid, blind ones don’t, but I do. Don’t disparage yourself. I don’t like it,” he chided. Willow’s body radiated trepidation, she felt she’d displeased him and it worried her. There was something else, too, but he couldn’t tell what yet. Her eyes flickered to the bed and then he knew. This was getting better by the minute.

“Willow, look at me.” He waited until she complied. “I have no intention of raping you. I said you’re safe here and I meant it.” Willow’s eyes slid off to the side in excruciating embarrassment. “Willow,” he drew her name out slowly and her eyes returned to him. “If we make love, it’ll be because you want to. Understand?”

She was mortified and looking everywhere except at him. He let it go because keeping up the façade was becoming a strain anyway. Her tumultuous emotions and scents were wreaking havoc on his system and he was no longer certain he was completely keeping his true responses off his face. Regaining dominance over himself, he repeated the question. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes on her fingers as they plucked nervously at the sofa cushion.

“Good. Sweetheart, you have so much to learn about yourself. You have qualities and feelings you haven’t even begun to suspect, much less explore. Stand up. Please. There’s something I want to show you.”

She stood, knees shaking, and looked at him, avoiding his eyes as he rose to stand in front of her. Gently he took her shoulders in his hands and she started to tremble. “I have a lot of things to tend to today, so I’ll be going now. But first I want to leave you with this to think about.” Bending his head, he tenderly touched her warm lips with his cold ones. She became still as a statue at the contact, but gasped. He took the opening to deepen the kiss. Willow was completely unresponsive externally, but her vital signs were through the roof. Keeping his tongue to himself and distance between their bodies, he continued to kiss her passionately. He was ecstatic when she hesitantly began to return the kiss and his hands drifted to her waist, supporting her as her knees weakened. Her small hands gripped his sleeves and her sweet tasting, inexperienced mouth caught on quickly. His senses were swamped with her burgeoning desire and he ended the kiss with regret. He’d achieved his objective. Carefully, he sat her limp body back on the sofa. Her eyes were glazed and she held her fingers to her lips. Willow was in a stupor, unaware of her surroundings. Angelus retrieved his book from the bed and quietly left the room.

~Part: 10~

His library was silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. Absently, Angelus rolled his gold pen around in his hand, lost in thought; the papers in front of him forgotten. It had been two days since he’d kissed Willow. He hadn’t visited her since. He’d left her alone to sort through the new emotions elicited by his kiss. Now, she’d be feeling lonely, confused by her body’s reaction to the kiss, and wondering when she’d see him again.

Staying away from his pet project was difficult, but necessary. He didn’t want to ‘over saturate the market’ with his product…so to speak. People tended to crave things that they had to wait for. Angelus fully intended to become something Miss Willow craved…with a passion. When he’d kissed her, she hadn’t wanted to respond, but she had…it had affected her from head to toe. She was *still* reeling from the havoc it had wrought in her luscious little body. When he’d left her he had gone directly to his monitor. She had continued sitting in a daze for 15 minutes.

That night she cried herself to sleep. Of course, he was probably only one of several reasons for that. Willow would be missing school, her friends, and all the familiar things in her life. Doubtless her captivity was a factor, her fear in general another, and last, but not least, the confusion and lust that he had stirred in her. Right now her conflicting feelings about him were running amok in that lovely head. She was completely off balance and that’s just where he wanted her.

He gloated every time he saw her on his screen, staring into space, her fingers unconsciously drifting to the lips he had kissed. He’d lost count of how many times he’d witnessed that occurrence in the past couple of days. He certainly knew how to kiss a woman, he thought with a self-satisfied smile. Without even trying, he could send them into a tailspin with his lips…and with Willow he had applied himself. That little girl didn’t stand a chance.

The kiss had affected him, too. Since this thing with Willow was an entirely new state of affairs for him, unprecedented reactions on his part were to be expected, he supposed. Something had shifted within him when she responded to him so thoroughly. No sense dwelling on that, as he wasn’t interested in delving into self-reflection. He wanted what he wanted; he didn’t give a damn *why*. Pondering the mysteries of his psyche was such a waste of time. Contemplating and dissecting Willow’s was much more productive and enjoyable. You can’t control someone you don’t understand and gaining mastery over her was imperative to him.

A light tap at the door brought him out of his reverie. “Yes?”

James opened the door and announced, “John Barrett to see you, sir.”

“Thank you, James, please show him in.” Angelus was so distracted, he’d lost track of time. Mr. Barrett was keeping tabs on Willow’s little friends and was here to report in. Glancing at the clock, he saw that the man was right on time. Excellent. He appreciated punctuality in the people who worked for him. It was a sign of reliability and respect.

As James ushered the guest in, Angelus motioned to one of the chairs situated across the desk from him. “Good afternoon, John, take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir,” he replied politely as he sat down.

Angelus leaned back in his chair comfortably, “What do you have for me today? Any excitement at Sunnydale High?”

John Barrett was a seasoned professional, familiar with the ‘unusual’ goings on in Sunnydale. Nevertheless, he was in awe of his austere employer. Clearing his throat, he began his report. “The entire group is busy with their usual studies, training, patrols and research. Nothing out of the ordinary. Miss Rosenberg’s skills are sorely missed and everyone has to work harder to try to pick up the slack.” He paused a moment as his employer smiled proudly. Any reference to the young lady’s particular gifts caused this reaction, he had learned, and it was always a relief to see a…less daunting countenance on the intimidating vampire.

“Yes, I imagine so,” Angelus said complacently, “Not one of them holds a candle to Willow’s intelligence or competency. Please continue.”

“They miss her personally as well. Very much. Nobody has shown suspicion regarding her absence, however. Xander Harris visited her house. It bothered him that she had left without a phone call or visit to say goodbye. The next day at the library, where I have my listening device, he voiced concerns about her missing fish. It struck him as odd.”

Angelus’ only response was a raised eyebrow.

“As per your instructions, I’ve studied Miss Rosenberg’s word usage and personality nuances in past e-mail correspondence she’s sent to her friends. I retrieved the necessary information from her computer. To assuage any curiosity about the missing fish, I sent Harris an e-mail from ‘Miss Rosenberg’ explaining their absence.

Angelus was impressed with Barrett’s field expedience. He respected the man’s attention to detail. “And where have the little fish gone, John?”

John Barrett smiled, “To the fish-sitter, sir.”

Angelus looked somewhat incredulous. “You mean to tell me there *is* such a thing?”

“There is now. I researched the type and number of fish she had and similar fish are now residing in a tank at a local pet store. For a reasonable fee, the owner was more than happy to accommodate. It’s unlikely that young Harris will go so far as to check out the story, but all the bases are covered just in case.”

Angelus laughed. Great lengths had been gone to for those ridiculous fish once again. “Well done, John. My trust in you has not been misplaced. You’re doing a fine job of addressing every issue and anticipating anything that could conceivably raise a red flag. Your efforts will be rewarded accordingly.”

“Thank you, sir,” John Barrett replied, savoring the praise. His employer unnerved him and he was relieved to have pleased him so well.

“Anything else I should be apprised of?”

“No, sir, that’s it as far as anything significant goes.”

“Well then,” Angelus stood, signaling an end to the meeting. “I will see you soon and expect to hear from you if anything unexpected should arise before your next scheduled report.”

Barrett stood to leave, “Yes sir. Have a nice afternoon,” he said with a friendly wave of his hand as he left.

“Thank you, I believe I will,” Angelus said with a cryptic smile.

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