And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!
-- Robert Browning, Porphyria's Lover

Willow sat with her back against the fireplace and glared at Angel
as he paced the width of the room She thought briefly about trying
to leave again, but she knew it was futile. Every time she tried,
Angel stopped her, and she could tell he was enjoying it. She sucked
in a breath through her teeth, let it out slowly, and tried to
concentrate on her history book. She glanced up at Angel and a growl
that rivaled Angel's escaped her lips.

"Would you stop pacing!?" she finally exclaimed, jumping to her
feet, sending the book in her lap crashing to the floor. "You're
making me seasick," she explained, crossing her arms across her
chest. He stopped and faced her, cocking his head. "I promise I
won't leave, or try to, if you just stop pacing." She was tired,
and Angel's refusal to let her out of his sight was rapidly grating
on her nerves. <Wish I could remember how to float a pencil, > she
thought to herself as Angel left his post by the door and walked
over to a well-concealed bookcase and began hunting through the
books.

Willow sighed, picked up her history book, and tried to resume her
studying. She was almost lost in thoughts of the Byzantine Empire
when she felt Angel's eyes roaming over her body. She glanced at him
through the corner of her eyes. He was sitting next to her with a
large, leather-bound book open in front of him, only he wasn't paying
any attention to the book.

"You're not going to give me any peace, are you?" she asked, slamming
her book shut. He grinned and shook his head. "Great, just great, you
can't talk, but you can still be annoying," she huffed. Angel continued
to stare at her. "What?" she finally asked; he pulled the notepad out
of his pocket and hastily wrote on it. "You want to talk?" she asked,
reading over his shoulder; he nodded. "A one sided conversation just
what I need," she muttered. "Fine, what do you want to talk about?" He
wrote on the pad again. "'Wolfie'?" she read, "Oh, Oz," she corrected;
Willow looked away as she thought of the pain she was probably putting
Oz through.

"He's my...We've been..." Willow stopped, words suddenly failing her;
Angel made a motion with his hands, urging her to continue. "He's my
boyfriend; we started dating shortly before you...left." Angel's eyes
clouded as, even in his animal state, he remembered what he'd done.
"We found out a little while later that he was a werewolf." Angel's
eyes widened slightly. "There was no biting though; we made sure of
that," Willow hurried to explain. "That's why I wasn't home last night,"
she whispered. "Someone has to watch him during the moon," she clarified.
Angel watched her face, and he noticed the pain flickering in her eyes.
He nodded faintly and wrote again on the notepad.

"You want to know about Faith," Willow stated, reading the brunette
Slayer's name off the paper; he nodded. "She's Kendra's replacement,"
she explained. "She came to town about three weeks ago, claiming that
her Watcher was in a retreat in England. That was about the time the
newest vampire showed up in town, Mr. Trick." Willow glanced over at
Angel. "I think you could beat him," she smiled gently; Angel grinned
in return. "Um, it turns out, Faith's been running from Trick ever
since he killed her Watcher. Buffy and Faith faced him and his friend
Kakistos; the Slayers won." Willow slumped back against the stone, lack
of sleep the night before and the reality of her situation catching up
to her.

Angel touched her shoulder softly, urging her forward; he slid in the
space behind her and let her recline against his chest. He moved his
hands up to her shoulders and slowly began to kneed her flesh. Willow
felt her body slowly give into exhaustion, but before sleep claimed her,
she met Angel's eyes.

"Angel?" she asked, and he nodded that she should continue. "Someday,
when your voice is back and you feel like talking, will you tell me
what happened to you in Hell?" He nodded faintly, and she smiled at
him before falling into a deep sleep. Angel wrapped his arms around
his sleeping mate and fell asleep with his head propped up on her
shoulder.

"RED! You two better be decent in there 'cause I'm comin' in!" Faith's
voice boomed from the garden, shaking Willow out of her sleep; her watch
indicated that she'd been asleep for seven hours. Faith tossed the
curtains aside, letting sunlight blast into the room. Angel snarled against
Willow's neck as a ray hit him; the curtains closed before any damage
could be done.

"Faith? What do you want?" Willow asked, not completely awake.

"Let's see, someone was viciously mauled in the woods last night," the
Slayer commented crossing her arms under her breasts. Willow came
completely awake at that news.

"You don't think...." she trailed off, glancing over her shoulder at Angel.

"Actually, I'd prefer if it was Fang," Faith replied. "Everyone seems
convinced it's Wolfie."

"Oh. Oh, God." Willow tried to get up, but Angel's arms tightened around her
waist. "Angel, please!" she begged. "I have to go!" Angel's hands reluctantly
let her go, and Willow headed to the door. She and Faith were almost out the
door, when Willow turned back to Angel. "I'm coming back," she appeased, and
Angel nodded his understanding, making a shooing gesture with his hands. She
smiled briefly and left the mansion.

*FIN*

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