Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companion'd inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.
-- Dante Gabriel Rosetti, XIX - Lilent Noon
Willow closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cold,
stone wall of the mansion and sighed heavily. Faith had left an
hour before to report an edited version of what had happened to
Giles and to pick up bandages for Angel as well as clothing for
Oz, and Willow was left alone in the old house. Fortunately, both
Oz and Angel had fallen asleep shortly after Faith left.
"What have I gotten myself into?" she muttered, but didn't get a
chance to answer herself as Oz let out a low moan and his fur
receded into his body. "Oz?" Willow asked softly; he looked up at
her and tried to rise to his knees but couldn't because of the
chains.
"Um, I think I, uh, missed something," he muttered, looking around
at the mansion and the chains around his wrists.
"A lot," she smiled, walking over and unlocking the cuffs. She
handed him a blanket, careful not to let her eyes stray from his
face.
"I got bit," he stated, his hands finding the already-scabbed over
bite marks left over from the fight. "By Angel?" he asked looking
to Willow for clarification; she nodded. "Huh," he shrugged. "Did
I hurt...anyone?"
"You nearly disembodied Angel," Willow replied softly.
"Ah," he nodded. "But no one else?" Willow shook her head.
"Oz," Willow began.
"Willow," Oz began at the same time. They both stopped and Oz urged
Willow to continue.
"I don't think we should see each other anymore," she stated, looking
away from him; he nodded slightly.
"Because of Angel?" he asked.
"Yes...no...sorta," Willow finally settled on her answer.
"It's okay, baby," he replied, placing a comforting hand on her
shoulder. "I can smell him on you."
"Oh," she muttered.
"I'm happy though," he responded.
"You are?" Willow cried, shock echoing through her body.
"Not about losing you," he appeased. "No, that's like losing a torso,"
he whispered, taking her hand. "I'm happy you told me. I'm happy I
didn't see you and him together before I knew. I'm happy that I didn't
find you in a compromising position." He slowly traced circles on the
back of her hand.
"Oz, I-I'm sorry. I know that's pathetic," she replied, "But I am."
"It's not pathetic," he replied
"Can we still be friends?" she asked, not knowing if she should even
be asking that. "If you don't want--"
"Of course, we can," he replied. "I'd like that. Very much," he whispered,
pulling her into a hug; he kissed her forehead.
"Gee, Red, you've just got guys falling all over you," Faith commented
from the doorway. Willow glared at her, and the Slayer just laughed,
walking over and tossing a small paper bag at Willow. "I picked up
some
dinner for Fang," she explained at Willow's confused expression.
"Thanks," Willow replied, realizing she hadn't thought about what she
would feed Angel.
"Figured you hadn't thought about food for a while," the Slayer grinned
knowingly. "Giles wants you to come by the library when you're feeling
better," Faith stated to Willow, changing the subject.
"'Feeling better'?" Willow asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Yeah, you know, when you're over that pesky stomach virus," Faith
explained.
"Oh!" Willow replied.
"Mind on other things?" Faith teased. At Willow's glare, she changed
the subject again. "C'mon, Wolf, Giles wants to see you now," she stated,
dropping one of the bags she was holding, and Oz pulled out his clothing.
Faith handed Willow the other sack. "Some bandages, wetnaps, peroxide,
basically anything I could lift from the library first-aid kit," she
explained. Willow nodded and started towards Angel's bedroom.
"Faith?" Willow asked, turning back to face the Slayer; the brunette
met
her eyes. "Thank you."
"No prob. Now go," she ordered, indicating the curtained doorway with
a
lift of her chin. "I've got the wolf," she smiled. Willow waved quickly
at Oz, who responded in kind, and turned back to the curtain, she mentally
prepared herself before pulling open the curtain.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companion'd inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.
-- Dante Gabriel Rosetti, XIX - Lilent Noon
Willow pushed the curtain aside and stepped inside the large bedroom.
Angel was curled up in a ball and whimpered every once and a while
as
he dreamed. Willow set her bags down on the coffee table and reached
across the bed to place a hand on Angel's back over the tatoo; Angel
jerked away from her and let out a half-moan, half-snarl in his dream.
She touched his shoulder again, but this time, instead of jerking away,
Angel grabbed her wrist, pulling Willow onto the bed, and rolled himself
on top of her. His hands held Willow down to the bed as he snarled
at
her.
"A-Angel?" she asked in a soft voice, fear coursing through her. He
shook
his head, some of the animalistic look leaving his eyes, and stared
down
at her.
"Willow?" he asked, rolling off of her. She nodded, and he gently ran
hand through her hair. "Mine," he muttered. Willow rolled her eyes
and
poked a finger at his chest.
"I know you can talk, buddy," she responded. "So start using multi-syllabic
words." He grinned.
"I did," he whispered, still trying to get his vocal chords use to talking
again. "Your name has two syllables."
"Doesn't count," she mock-huffed; he smiled and traced the line of her
jaw.
Willow's eyes closed and she felt a shudder roll through her body.
She
forced her eyes open and jumped off the bed. "Blood!" she shouted;
Angel
cocked an eyebrow. "Faith brought blood," she explained, trying to
get her
emotions under control. She dug the two bags of blood out of the sack
and
handed them to Angel. She turned her back to him as his face changed
and
he bit into one bag.
"So, um, how are you feeling?" she asked, searching for anything to
talk
to him about. "How's that for a stupid question? I mean, you just got
your voice back after hundreds of years in Hell, so I'm sure you're
not
'Hills are Alive' fine; Ms. Calendar used to say that," she babbled,
sitting down on the edge of the bed. It was then she realized that
the
sounds of drinking had ended; she looked over her shoulder at Angel.
He
stared back at her. "Sorry. I babble," she shrugged, staring down at
her
hands. His hand touched her shoulder lightly and trailed down her arm.
She jumped at the contact.
"You're afraid," Angel stated.
"Thank you for that statement of the obvious," she snapped, shrugging
away from his hand.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I don't know what I'm doing," she replied, standing up and
pacing
away from him. "I don't know why I'm here, and I don't know why I don't
just
tell Buffy you're back so things can go back to normal." Angel blanched
away
from her.
"I don't want...normal," he stated; she whirled around to face him.
"Why did you pick me?" she asked suddenly. "Why not Buffy o-or Cordelia?"
"Because I didn't want them," he replied. "_You_ are my mate," he whispered.
"Not Buffy or Cordelia."
"And I don't get a choice," she snapped.
"You have a choice, Willow. I claimed you. You haven't claimed me,"
he
replied.
"You're free to leave," he commented, motioning to the door.
"Why didn't you give me that option yesterday?" she asked, anger boiling
inside
of her, even though she had no reason to be mad at him.
"I wasn't in the...right of mind," he grinned. "And besides, I didn't
want
you
to go."
"And now you do?"
"Free will," he shrugged.
"I need some air," she growled, stomping out of the room. Angel waited
until
he heard the front door to the mansion slammed shut behind her.
"Oh, poor girl," he chuckled, "If you think I'm giving up that easily."
*FIN*