From sickness and infirmity
Forevermore they shall be free.
Nor withering age shall e're come there,
But beauty shall be bright and clear.
This City pure is not for thee,
For things unclean there shall not be.
-- Anne Bradstreet, The Flesh and The Spirit

Willow sat on the couch with the papers concerning the Mayor laid out in
front of her on the coffee table; she glanced down at the yellowed picture
of Richard Wilkins I, who happened to look an awful lot like Richard
Wilkins III. As she studied the similarities between the yellowed picture
and a photograph of the current mayor, her hand absently stroked Angel's
hair; the vampire grimaced and moaned in his sleep. Knowing he was reliving
his time in Hell, Willow bent down and kissed his cheek lightly, quieting
him almost instantly.

"Well, that was sweet," a male voice commented. Willow's head flew up and
met the eyes of a badly dressed, little man on the opposite side of the table.

"Who are you?" Willow asked, wishing for some kind of weapon.

"A friend," the man smiled.

"Thanks, but I got enough friends," she replied.

"I'm not yours, Willow; I'm his," the man stated, indicating Angel.

"How did you know my name?" Willow hissed.

"He told me." Willow narrowed her eyes. "He did," the man stated, backing
away slightly with his hands held up.

"I don't believe you," Willow shook her head.

"I can understand that. With the things you've seen and all, I'm surprised
you trust anyone." The man walked over and crouched down next to her and
Angel. "Especially him." He met Willow's eyes. "What surprises me more is
that he trusts you, loves you, completely. That's something he never gave
that Slayer."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you know what it means to a vampire's mate?" the man asked, surprising
Willow.

"How did you...." she whispered, her hand touching her neck gently; the man
just raised his eyebrows. "And no, I don't know. There doesn't seem to be
anything in any of the books I've looked at." The man nodded.

"Well, most books on vamps are written by Watchers, and that tweed-clad
army never really got around to covering mating rituals." The man rose out
of his crouch and began to pace. "You are also the first human to have the
honor of being a vamp's mate. That place is usually reserved for another
vampire."

"So I'm special?" Willow asked, skepticism evident in her voice.

"Look at it this way, in order for a mating ritual to work the demon has to
accept the mate which is why Angel-boy never mated Buffy. The demon hated
her, still does."

"Angel's demon likes me? Did you escape from the Sunnydale Sanitarium?"

"Angel's never taken enough blood to harm you, has he?"

"Well, no," she answered; the man cocked an eyebrow and waited for Willow
to piece it together. "Okay, so the demon likes me, and being a vampire's
mate is really just some kind of mystical bond." He nodded, then hurried to
correct himself.

"The bond doesn't go two ways yet," he replied. "You haven't marked him."

"And how do I do that?"

"You bite him," he shrugged.

"Okay," Willow replied, drawing out the word.

"Still don't believe me, huh?"

"Hellmouth and all that," she shrugged.

"I understand. How about this? When you mark him, you become immortal."
Willow's eyes widened.

"Immortal? Like sword-wielding-There-Can-Be-Only-One Immortal? Are you sure
you didn't escape from the nut house?"

"Okay, so it's not true immortality, but as long as he's alive, you're
alive. You won't die of disease or old age; granted, you could be hit by a
bus and die. You won't grow older though." Willow just blinked at him.
"Look, here's the deal, he's not sure about you." Willow looked away from
the man and down at the vampire sleeping peacefully next to her. "He
doesn't know if you love him, and as long as you haven't claimed him, he's
gonna wonder. He'll fall back into his brooding phase, and I'll have to go
find him in another alley and force him to bathe again. Personally, I'm not
looking forward to that."

"So this is a purely selfish visit?"

"Well, yeah, and that whole he'll save humanity thing, of course. You two
could be the most powerful mated pair I've ever seen...." Willow looked
down at her lap.

"I'm still confused about everything. One minute, I'm in what I thought was
a happy relationship with Oz, and the next, Angel's back from Hell, I'm his
mate, my friends hate me, my mom tries to burn me at the stake, and now a
guy in a really bad suit is giving me advice on my love life," Willow stated.

"Okay, the suit crack was a little much," the man commented, adjusting his
jacket; Willow just rolled her eyes. "Look, follow your heart; it'll get
you where you need to be." The man started to walk towards the door, but he
stopped and turned back to face her. The man's eyes roamed over her body,
and Willow felt a blush rising. "Angel's got great taste in women." With
that, the man disappeared into thin air; Willow's eyes narrowed as she
searched for any sign of the little man. With a sigh, she glanced down at
Angel and a small smile quirked on her lips.

"Follow my heart," she whispered.

"I see you met Whistler," Angel commented suddenly, not opening his eyes.

"You're awake?!" she cried; he nodded sleepily. "Hold it, that man," she
pointed in the direction Whistler had headed, "Who looks like he stepped
out of a seventies porno was the Whistler?" Angel nodded again then cracked
an eye open.

"You watch seventies porno?" he asked, raising his eyebrows; she opened her
mouth but found she couldn't say anything. He laughed suddenly and slipped
his hands behind her head; pulling her down to meet his lips, he grinned,
"We could have fun with that."

*FIN*

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