The phone rang, and Willow fought the urge to slam it into the wall. She knew whom it was; he'd been calling ever since the night he'd been drunk. He always wanted one of two things: Willow's help with research or Buffy's whereabouts, and she constantly fought the urge to scream at him every time he called. The phone continued to ring, and Willow sat completely still in front of her computer, her fingers not even moving over the keyboard, as the phone rang for the fifteenth time. With a growl she reached over and snatched at the receiver.
"What?" she growled.
"Willow?" Angel asked, and Willow nearly dropped the phone at the overwhelming pain in his voice.
"Angel?" He didn't answer. "Angel? are you alright?"
"Willow? Willow, I-I need your help," he sobbed, and a loud clamor sounded from his end.
"Angel?" she asked, but her only answer was a dial tone. "Oh, God," she whispered, grabbing her coat and running out of her room, down the stairs, and out of her house. She made it to the mansion in record time, spurred on my images of Angel lying dead on the floor. The mansion's heavy oak door was hanging open as she reached it, and fear gripped her throat as she pushed it open completely.
"Hello?" she called out;then; her breath caught in her throat as she encounter the sight of, not Angel lying dead on the floor but, Angel standing in the center of the room, bouncing happily. "You're not dead," she stated, placing her hands on her hips.
"Ummmm, no," he replied, shaking his head.
"You're not sick."
"Again with a no."
"You tricked me," she growled.
"Oh, yeah," he grinned, continuing to bounce in place.
"You bastard," she hissed.
"Hey, what my mum did is none of your business," he replied, crossing his arms and trying to look offended; it would have worked if he hadn't collapsed into a fit of giggles.
"Are you drunk again?" He shook his head and moved to the side, allowing Willow to see the coffee table. "Oh, God," she sighed as her eyes took in the twenty or thirty discard coffee containers from the Sunnydale coffee house. "You're on a caffeine high."
"Score one for the hacker," he clapped, and Willow rolled her eyes.
"Great. First you're drunk, then hung over, and know you're hyper. What's next?" she asked, looking up at the ceiling.
"Horny," Angel answered; Willow stared at him her eyes wide.
"What did you say?"
"Horny. That's what comes next. Drunk," he held up one finger, "Hung over," he held up another, "Hyper," a third finger went up, "Then horny." He brought the other two fingers up.
"That was two fingers, Angel," she commented.
"I know," he shrugged. "I'm well-endowed." Willow's mouth dropped open at his frankness, and she felt a blush begin to creep up her cheeks as delicious mental images sprung up.
"You don't feel guilty about tricking me, do you?" she asked, trying to get her mind off Angel and his...parts.
"Nope," he grinned, now bouncing around the room. "I wanted to see you," he shrugged.
"Would you stop that!" she screamed suddenly; Angel stopped his bouncing and stared at her. "I cannot concentrate while you bounce around like Tigger on crack!" she exclaimed. "And have you ever thought that I don't want to see you?!" He cocked his head.
"No," he answered honestly.
"Well, I don't!" With that she stomped out of the mansion slamming the door behind her.
"Playing hard to get," Angel commented, nodding, to himself. He grinned suddenly and shrugged. "Guess I'm gonna have to play hard to resist."
Then he resumed bouncing.