T. C.
Author's note: I don't actually speak Gaelic, so it's most likely not grammatically correct. I apologize.
Feedback: Please. I like to hear what people are thinking about my work.
Disclaimer: Willow and Angel and other BTVS characters mentioned or portrayed belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and Twentieth Century Fox, but not me.
 

Glossary of Gaelic

Saileach  -  Willow
Go h-alainn rua cailleach  -  beautiful red haired witch
Ta me thu thine  -  I am on fire
Ma se do thoil e - please
Teastaionn se uaim...Ionat - I need it...inside you
Teara im theannata  -  come with me
Cead  -  permission
Ceadaithe  -  permitted
Mo Ioniun  - my beloved
Tha mi duilich  - I'm sorry
 
 

Part Four

In all of his years of existence, Angel had never really kissed a woman. Before, when he was human, you didn't kiss a lady on the lips
unless you were betrothed or married. As for the women who weren't ladies, well, you didn't seek them out with kissing in mind. After he
had been turned, the demon had control and even with his soul, the demon had always been present. Simmering under the surface like
molten lava in a seemingly dormant volcano. He had never told Buffy how the demon seethed every time he had touched her. There had only
been that one time with Buffy where the demon hadn't factored into their relationship and that was when he had been human. But that day
had been so brief and so long ago that it seemed like only a dream. This was real. The demon was quiet and Angel wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the sweet warmth of Willow's kiss forever.

Unfortunately, the small matter of irate gypsies bent on revenge was also very real. Angel ended the kiss, pulling back slightly. "What
made you change your mind about telling me?"

"Bu...I realized that they might kill you anyway because your soul is permanent and they can't do anything about it."

Angel caressed Willow's cheek with the back of his fingers. "That's not going to happen. We'll find a way to get them to back off. Maybe
if I talked to them, let them see that the Powers That Be trust me to do their work..."

"No!" Willow cut him off vehemently. She jumped up, shaking her head to further make her point. "Those people won't listen to reason.
Look at what they did. I can understand cursing you with your soul because you killed that girl, but the happiness clause...that was just
mean!" Angel watched Willow pace out her frustration, tears threatening to leak from her eyes. He stood up and tried to catch her in his arms, but she shook him off. "You suffered for over eighty years, Angel. That's longer than that girl would have probably lived and they're still not satisfied. You've paid your debt to them. Why don't they understand that?"

"Miss Calendar...."

"Was their fault!" Willow fiercely interrupted him again. "If the Kalendash hadn't included their stupid happiness clause then you never
would have lost your soul and Miss Calendar would be alive. They have no right to punish you for that."

This time Willow let him enfold her in his arms. She was crying softly again. This was what he had wanted, for Willow to cry and release her grief, but now he wanted only to hurt those who had caused her pain. He deserved the gypsies wrath, despite Willow's opinion he still felt guilty for all he had done to them, but going after Willow was taking their vendetta too far. They had killed Buffy and Xander and were tormenting Willow. No matter what he owed them, it had to stop. "I won't talk to them. We'll find a way to stop them together. You can come back to L. A. with me."

Willow shook her head. "I don't want to put Cordelia in danger. Or Giles. We can't tell them what's going on. I can't lose anyone else."

Willow pulled away from Angel and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm going to go take a bath and relax. I need to not think about this for a while." She stepped out of Angel's embrace.

"Okay. I'll call Giles and tell him not to worry. That you just needed to talk to someone."

Willow turned at the doorway of the kitchen. "I needed you," she whispered softly and left.
 

The conversation with Giles went much as Angel expected. Endless concerned questions about Willow's welfare and Angel's answered met
with suspicious skepticism. Willow would have to convince Giles that she was all right. The microwave beeped and Angel reached over to
retrieve his warmed blood. He wasn't that hungry, feeding off of Willow had been immensely satisfying, but he didn't want that to become a habit.

Angel drained the blood from the mug. He wasn't sure how long Willow would be and he didn't want her to see him feeding. A part of him
knew that she accepted the demon within him, but it was hard for him to really believe it when he hated that part of himself. He rinsed the mug and set it in the sink. He had to stop thinking about Willow and himself and start concentrating on their problem. He would analyze this new relationship with the witch later.

As he was thinking, Angel wandered around the house. Pictures of Buffy, Xander, and Willow cluttered most of the available knick-knack
space the house offered. The gypsies had wanted to isolate Willow for a reason, it wasn't just a punishment. And whatever that reason was,
Buffy would have been a major threat to it. Buffy and Xander would have never deserted Willow voluntarily. Angel picked up a photograph
of Buffy and Willow on the beach, but it wasn't Buffy who captured his gaze. Willow exuded a light that few could believe in, let alone project. He would do anything to protect that, protect her.

Angel set the picture back down. He missed her. She had only left his side twenty minutes ago and he missed her. He was worse than a
schoolboy. Angel wandered upstairs. "Willow."

"I'm up in the attic," she called back to him. She sounded more relaxed.

The attic had a skylight. He remembered that from Willow's note the day before. Angel considered the stairwell to the attic. It looked dark enough, but stairways could be tricky. "Willow, is the light directly on the stairs?"

"No. You can come up as far as the top step."

He took Willow's invitation with an eagerness that was no longer surprising. He was starting to suspect that what was happening between them was fated. It was something he no longer had an interest in preventing. He stood in the shaded recess of the stairwell and watched her. The skylight was positioned in the center of the room, a small attic that someone had been clever enough to renovate into a tub room. Directly under the skylight was a large, old-fashioned, clawfoot bathtub and in the tub was Willow. He could only see her head and her arms. Angel wished he could touch her, but the sunlight shone down like a heavenly spotlight and even though her hair was wet, it still found the golden highlights.

Willow turned her head and smiled lazily at him. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I'm done now. Could you toss me a towel?"

Big, fluffy, emerald green bath towels hung on a rack beside him. Willow held out a hand for the towel, but Angel had a better idea.

"No."

"No? I thought that someone as old as you would be a gentleman."

"There is no such thing as a gentleman in a situation such as this."

Angel took a towel from the rack and opened it. "Why don't you come and get it?"

The water splashed a bit as Willow pulled the plug and stood up. Water coursed down her body and Angel knew that the sight would have
taken his breath away. It was a habit of his to imagine what people looked like in the sunlight, but nothing beat the real thing and Willow more than surpassed expectations. Her skin was a milky white that took on a peachy hue where the sun touched it on her shoulders, her breasts, her hips.

She walked toward him, water pooling at her feet with each step. She stopped in front of him and leaned close. "Angel."

"Mmmm," was all he could manage.

"You dropped the towel." Willow placed her hands on his shoulders, stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Angel wrapped his arms around her and stepped back a few steps deeper into the stairwell, taking Willow with him. He settled her down on a step and sat down beside her, removing his lips from her mouth and moving down to lick the water droplets from her collarbone. "Angel, I think that these
feelings, that what we're doing here is...Ooo, that's nice," Willow stopped to moan as Angel played her earlobe with his lips and tongue.

"Anyway, I think it's a side effect of the strengthening spell."

"Really." Angel continued to tease Willow's flesh with his tongue, traveling back down her neck. Her breasts were pressed up against his
shirt and his knee was between her legs. He was well aware of the side effects of the spell and it wasn't just the strengthening spell that was at work here. It was time to come clean about past side effects that he had ignored for everyone's sakes.

"I think that these feelings, that what we're doing here is because I love you."

Willow pushed him up and away from her and looked at him with startled eyes. "What?"

Angel smiled and fingered the strands of wet hair by her cheek. He hadn't expected her to take him at his word. Not yet. "I love you, Saileach."

"I..." Willow's reply was interrupted by the doorbell. She looked over Angel's shoulder in confusion, as if trying to identify the sound. It rang again, more insistently. "I should get the door."

Willow untangled herself from Angel's arms and stood up. Angel stood with her and stopped her from going downstairs. "No. I think I
should get the door." He looked down at her body to gently remind her of its unclothed state.

The reality that she was naked dawned in Willow's eyes as she followed Angel's gaze. She looked back up at him. "Right. I'll go get dressed."

The person on the other side of the door leaned on the bell impatiently. Angel suspected that it Giles, here to rescue Willow from the clutches of the untrustworthy vampire, but when he opened the door it was a woman. She narrowed her eyes at Angel as she inspected
him. It was then that Angel became aware of the dark wet spots on very compromising areas of his shirt and pants.

The woman pushed herself past Angel and walked into the living room.

"I'm Sheila Rosenberg. Who are you? And where is my daughter?" She turned and pinned him with a hard glare. It reminded him a bit of the
look Joyce had given him the first time they had met, but Willow was not a sixteen year old girl anymore and given the fact that he didn't
age, he didn't look that much older than her anymore. Willow's mother's obvious dislike seemed to be a bit of an overreaction to him.

Angel held out a hand. "Hello, Mrs. Rosenberg. Willow's upstairs, she should be down any minute. I'm Angel." Angel took his hand back
when it became apparent that Mrs. Rosenberg was not going to shake it.

"Angel who?"

"Mom?" Angel was saved from answering by Willow's appearance. "What are you doing here? I thought you and Dad were at a conference in Vienna."

Sheila Rosenberg looked at her daughter with a critical eye. Willow had dressed hastily, she had thrown on a black tank top with an embroidered goldfish across the front and a short orange skirt with black cat silhouettes ringing the hem. Her hair was still wet and it
dripped down to dampen her clothing. Angel knew that Sheila was a smart woman and it wouldn't have taken a genius to figure out what
they had been doing before she arrived.

"I heard about what happened to Alexander and Bunny...."

"Buffy. And that was two weeks ago," Willow interrupted her mother.

For a moment, Angel saw a gleam of optimism in Willow's eyes. "Were you unable to access your voice mail from the hotel? Did you just get my message?"

"No, of course not, dear. I had my presentation to give and your father was in the middle of negotiating a research grant." Sheila smiled at her daughter. "You know how important it was for us to be there. I came back as soon as I could. Who is this?" Willow's Mom turned her attention back to Angel.

Willow reached out and grabbed Angel's hand. "Angel," she answered numbly. Angel could tell that she was still processing the blow her
mother had so cavalierly dealt her. He had always been aware that Willow's parents were inattentive, he just hadn't expected them to be
so callous toward their daughter's feelings as well.

"Yes, he told me that. You do have a last name?" Sheila frowned at him. It was obvious that Willow's mother did not like him, although he had no idea why.

"McAlistair. Angel Riordan McAlistair. I'm not Jewish." He thought he would get that out in the open right away. Besides, if the woman was intent on hating him, he might as well give her a legitimate reason.

"What do you do?"

"Mom!" Willow put an end to the third degree with a warning look at her mother. "Angel is my friend." Sheila raised her eyebrows at that
statement and Willow blushed.

"I need to talk to you, Willow." She didn't have to say alone, it was implicit in her tone.

Angel gave Willow's hand a comforting squeeze before letting it go.

"I'll go make coffee." Very deliberately, just to let Willow know he wasn't deserting her and to let Sheila know his place in her daughter's life, Angel placed a kiss on Willow's lips and then headed for the kitchen. It wasn't like he had made a huge sacrifice. He would be able to hear every word that was said.

"I don't like him." Sheila made no attempt to keep her voice down as she confirmed his suspicions. "And why is it so dark in here? No
wonder you're so pale, you never let yourself get any sun." Angel could hear the snap of the blinds and was thankful he had left.

Bursting into flame wouldn't have done anything to salvage the bad impression he had made.

"Mom, Angel's my friend."

"You've given me that line already, dear and I didn't believe it then either. How long have you known this man?"

"Since highschool. He was Buffy's... He knew Buffy."

"I'm sure he did. You do realize he's taking advantage of you?"

Angel snarled under his breath at that comment and the coffee mug in his hand broke under the sudden pressure of his grip. His anger abated somewhat when he heard Willow say with soft conviction, "Angel would never do that."

"Sweetheart, don't be naive. You are not his type and he is most definitely not yours. That's what I told you about that musician you insisted on dating in highschool and look how that turned out. He broke your heart. This involvement is just a reaction to grief. It's a very common reaction..."

Sunlight or no sunlight, he was going back in there. Angel moved to the kitchen door as Sheila continued trying to convince Willow that
his feelings were false. He stopped when he heard Willow's voice.

"You should leave now."

"What?"

"Angel is not taking advantage of me. He cares about me. When he heard that I really needed him, he came here and didn't leave when I
tried to push him away. It took you two weeks to get here after I left a hysterical message with your voice mail. I want you to leave now."

Angel was proud that Willow delivered her message so calmly.

"Willow Catherine Rosenberg, I am making allowances because of your emotional state, but I will not have you speak to me in that manner.
I am your mother..."

"Only when it's convenient and right now it isn't convenient for me to be your daughter." Angel heard the front door open and after a couple
of minutes it shut softly. Sheila had obviously left without protest.

When Angel ventured back into the living room, Willow was seated on the couch. She was pale and her eyes were red from unshed tears.

"Make it better," she had asked him that first night. God, he wished he had the power to do that. To wipe everything away and make her
smile. But, who was he kidding, he didn't even have the power to walk across the slice of afternoon light separating them.

"Before I left for L. A., I called them. I was incoherent. I needed my Mom, Angel, and it took her two weeks to get here." Willow walked
across the room and into his arms. "Why did they leave me?"

That was a question Angel couldn't answer. Over the years, he had witnessed a lot of neglectful parents, in his less prouder days he had
taken full advantage of this negligence, but even then he couldn't fathom how people fortunate enough to create a life never bothered to
nurture it. "Your parents seem to be quite career-oriented..."

Willow laughed. "I figured that out when I was five. I meant Buffy and Xander. They were more my family than my parents and they left me
all alone."

Angel hugged her tighter. "You're not alone any more."
 

He loved her. He hadn't said it again after this afternoon, but Willow knew that Angel had meant it. She also knew that it was a side
effect of the spell. In order to strengthen the permanent soul restoration spell, she had to bind Angel's soul to hers. She loved him too, even though she hadn't told him. Willow watched Angel as he fixed the sagging bottom step of her front steps. She shivered slightly from the cool night breeze and wrapped her hands more firmly around her warm cup of tea. He was beautiful in the moonlight. The cold blue light glanced off the hard planes of his pale back, accenting the muscles with shadow. Being a vampire, Angel didn't sweat, but Willow used her imagination to picture a slick sheen of perspiration she could glide her hands over. This small daydream brought back the memory of Angel laying across the bed, inviting her to celebrate his recent ability to be completely happy. His hair had been adorably mussed and his eyes had held a teasing glint was so rare it was practically priceless. He had laid across her bed like a lounging jungle cat. Willow indulged herself and allowed her imagination to run away again, in the direction of what would have happened if she had taken him up on his offer. She would have started with his magnificent chest, running her fingers along his collarbone and letting her tongue explore the contours of his pectorals. Then she would move lower, to his abdomen where despite the hard and compact muscles, he was a little bit ticklish.

Willow shifted uncomfortably from the sudden heat between her legs.

For both their sakes, she hoped that the side effects of her spell casting were temporary. Not that she minded being in love with Angel,
it was bliss, it just wasn't going to last. Angel's muscles twitched and Willow knew that he had guessed the direction of her thoughts.

That was the trouble when you were with someone with heightened senses, you couldn't hide your lust from them. Oz had always known
when she wanted him too. That relationship hadn't worked out very well. Seconds chances rarely did. Willow sighed and looked up at the
sky, hoping to spot a falling star to wish her troubles away on.

After her fruitless search of the night sky, Willow looked back down and met Angel's concerned brown eyes. He had picked up on the change in her thoughts. It was scary how well he knew her after only two days. True, he had known her a lot longer than that, but they had
never been this emotionally intimate.

Angel put down the hammer and joined her at the top of the steps.

"Hey." He picked up his t-shirt, but, thankfully, didn't put it on.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

If only he had asked that five minutes ago. Then they would have had some fun with the answer. "The usual. You and me. Buffy. Xander.
Mean gypsies." Willow took a sip of her tea.

"I won't let them hurt you." He brushed the hair at her neck back over her shoulders, his hand lingering on her back. "And I don't just mean the gypsies. The hate you feel for Buffy and Xander, it wasn't just an act, was it? You might feel better once you've admitted it."

Willow leaned back into Angel's touch as his fingers kneaded the back of her neck. "It's real. I love them. Like I said, they were my family. But at the same time, I hate them for leaving me behind. They wouldn't let me help, Angel. They pushed me aside. And Xander... I don't know what he was thinking, casting that protection spell on me. I can take care of myself. I could have saved them."

Willow was surprised that she could articulate the feelings that had been festering for so long so calmly. They were so chaotic. She
ping-ponged between loving and hating her best friends. And then she would feel guilty for hating them. She was a mess.

"Or you could have died," Angel reminded her softly.

"At least we would have been together," Willow said the words without thinking and before she could fully process what she had said, Angel
crushed her to his chest. Her teacup fell from her hands and smashed on the sidewalk. That was the second one she had lost to Angel's
embrace.

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that." Just as Angel had followed the train of her thoughts before, Willow knew that he was thinking about her previous suicidal actions. She slipped her arms around his waist to reassure him and he gentled his grip. "I completely understand what Buffy and Xander did. I know Xander and I didn't get along, but we did agree on one thing. You and Buffy were more important than our own life. Your life was the one he held dear and he died an honorable death protecting you." Angel tilted Willow's head up to look into her eyes. His thumb brushed her bottom lip and he slipped into his Irish brogue to say, "I know it's an old-fashioned notion, but ta die for the life of a beautiful woman, it's the best death ya can ask for."

Visions of knights saving distressed damsels swam in Willow's head and her lips twitched in a smile. Damn, he had a sexy voice. The brogue took her back to when he had whispered to her in Gaelic while making love. Willow brought her arms up around his neck and played with the hair at his nape. She was tired of the serious stuff. It was time to to return to her initial intentions and play. "So, does that line work for you often?"

Angel's lips parted in a grin as he accepted the change of topic. "I haven't used it in a while, but a couple of hundred years ago it lifted a skirt or two."

"I'll bet it did." Willow pressed herself closer to Angel, her hands roaming all over his body. "Tell me what you're thinking, Angel," she whispered into his ear.

Angel's head dipped and he nibbled the base of her neck. "Why don't I show you?"

"Ooo, naughty thoughts." Willow's fingers glanced over the hardening bulge of Angel's pants, but evaded him when he tried to thrust against
her hand.

He captured her mouth in a kiss, pausing to mutter against her lips, "Very, very naughty thoughts." Then his tongue slid through those
parted lips and played across her teeth.

"Oh, my God! What the hell is going on here? Is this some warped idea of vampire grief counseling?" Cordelia's shrill voice stopped
Willow and Angel's make-out session from getting any hotter or heavier. Angel gave Willow one last kiss on the nose before they turned to face the former cheerleader. Cordelia gave them each a long, hard look before pointing a beautifully manicured and painted fingernail at Angel. "You had better not be evil."
 

Part 5

"I'm not evil, Cordelia." Angel started to stand, but quickly sat back down when Cordelia stepped back nervously.

"And I'm supposed to just believe you? Saying you're not evil when you really are evil would be evil."

"He's not evil, Cordelia. He never will be," Willow tried to reassure her.

"How do I know you're not evil?"

"I've never been evil!" Angel almost laughed at the scandalized look on Willow's face.

"What about when you were kissing on Xander behind my back? Evil."

"Cordelia." Angel intervened before Willow started to defend her past actions once again. "Nobody here is evil. My soul is permanent. Willow inadvertently changed the spell when she restored my soul so there is no happiness clause."

There was a pause, as Cordelia took a long moment to digest and analyze the new information, but she finally relaxed her stance. "Okay. Willow screwing up a spell. That I can believe." Cordelia sat on the bottom step and kicked off her shoes.

"Hey," Willow started to protest, but stopped when Cordelia pressed her fingers to her temples and moaned. "What's wrong?"

Angel already knew. He answered for his office assistant. "Migraine. Cordelia had a vision."

Willow stood up. "Bring her inside. I can conjure something for that." She disappeared inside. Angel moved toward Cordelia and helped her up.

"She's not making some foul smelling witchbrew, is she? Thinking you guys were evil was perfectly reasonable considering the position you  were in when I arrived," Cordelia complained as she leaned on Angel and he guided her into the house. He helped her lay back on the couch and took a seat at her feet. "Which brings me to my original question, what the hell is going on?"

"As you keep reminding me every time I stick my nose in your romantic business, you're a big girl. It was exactly what it looked like." Angel grinned as Cordelia made a half-hearted attempt to roll her eyes at him.

"Great. Perfect." Cordelia nudged his thigh with her foot. "Does this mean we're going to have to get you a leash? Are you uncontrollable hormone guy now that you're permanent soul vampire?"

It took a while to decipher Cordelia's question and he chalked her uncharacteristic incoherence to the fact that she was in a lot of pain. "Don't worry. I'm only unable to control myself with Willow." Angel caught the sharp look Cordelia managed to throw at him, but he didn't respond to it. Over the years, Cordelia had become much more than his office assistant and reluctant messenger for the PTB. She had actually gotten to know him very well and he valued her friendship. Keeping the situation with Willow from Cordelia would be difficult. The brunette was more observant than people gave her credit for.

"It's a side effect of the second spell I had to perform to strengthen the original," Willow answered Cordelia's silent question as she walked into the room with a mug of steaming liquid. She handed it to Cordelia and sat in the armchair across from them. "It's witchbrew, but it tastes like mocha."

While Cordelia sniffed delicately at the concoction, Angel studied Willow. He didn't understand why she was distancing herself from him by insisting that their feelings were merely a side effect. Sure, it was true their intense attraction was a result of both the soul restoration and the strengthening spell, but that didn't make the feelings any less real. It disturbed him that Willow was convincing herself, and trying to convince him, that their relationship was a temporary illusion. It also hurt.

"Hey, this is good," Cordelia exclaimed after her first experimental sip. She gulped down a bit more. "And the pain... Gone! I take back that whole evil thing."

"Thanks. I can make up some more for you to take back to L. A. Then you'll have it the next time you have a vision."

"Speaking of which..." Angel prompted. Cordelia's presence was beginning to worry him. He couldn't protect Willow and run off on some mission for the PTB at the same time.

"Oh, right, vision." Cordelia finished off her mocha witchbrew. "Our client, uh, what's her name... you know, that blond who always tries to rub up against you.... Well, anyway, she's in major trouble with that gross massage parlor owner. He's going to kill her tomorrow night if you aren't there to stop him. We should probably leave soon if we want to make it back before sunrise."

<No.> The protest vibrated through him, but he didn't say it out loud. He didn't really have a choice. The PTB had requested his presence and Polly, the blond in question, needed him. But so did Willow. "Can't Wesley handle it?" Angel casually suggested.

Cordelia gave him the look. The look that said, can Wesley handle anything? It wasn't completely true. Wesley's competence in fighting evil had improved immensely and Angel would trust him with his life. Unless, of course, a woman was involved. Women, in general, flustered Wesley. Polly, in particular, scared the living daylights out of him. No, Wesley was not the man to send on this mission.

"It's okay, Angel. I'll be fine." Willow gave him small smile, letting him know that she understood. He still didn't like it though. There was something off about Cordelia's vision. The PTB didn't usually give him twenty-four hours notice. Then again, he wasn't usually out of the city.

"Angel, we'll have to leave soon," Cordelia broke into his internal debate. She sat up on the couch and set the coffee mug on the end table. She looked expectantly at Angel, who refused to do any getting-ready-to-leave type things.

During Cordelia and Angel's silent battle of wills, Willow stood and picked up the discarded cup. "While you two finish your staring contest, I'll make up some powdered stuff for you, Cordelia. How did you get here anyway?"

Cordelia broke Angel's gaze and busied herself with putting on her shoes. Every action spelled out her intention that he would be leaving with her. "Aura was in L. A. doing some shopping and I caught a ride back here with her. Give me your keys, Angel, and I'll start the car. You and Willow can do whatever you do to say good-bye in private." Angel gave up and tossed Cordy the keys. "You have ten minutes and then I'm coming back to drag you out of here so you better keep your clothes on." Willow blushed at the comment and fled into the kitchen. Cordelia gave him one final smirk before she left, one that promised the ride home would not be teasing-free.

Angel sauntered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Willow didn't look up at him. She carefully rinsed the coffee mug and then she turned to the task of mixing the ingredients for the pain relief potion. "I like being here with you," Angel confessed softly. He knew he was staring, but didn't rightly care at the moment. He wanted to memorize every detail of her.

Willow finally looked up at him. "It is easy to get used to." She finished with her magic and handed him a small velvet pouch. "The instructions are in the bag."

There was so much to say Angel didn't know where to start. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, and not just on the outside. She had a beautiful soul that soothed the darkest parts of his. He wanted to tell her that their souls had been intertwined ever since she had performed the soul restoration. That his love for her wasn't something new. Angel had felt a pull toward Willow from the moment he had been returned from Hell. In his bestial state, he had been searching
for her when he had run into Buffy. That was one of the major reasons why, after he had regained his senses, he had agreed with Buffy when she had wanted to keep his return from Giles and the Slayerettes. He had been afraid that in another weak moment he might confess his newfound attraction and hurt them all. And he had been right. On his deathbed, the weakest moment of all, he had seen Willow and he had told her he had been wrong, that he needed her, and she had assumed he was deliriously talking to Buffy. That assumption had turned out to be a good thing once he had recovered.

With nothing left to keep her occupied, Willow was getting fidgety while Angel reviewed his thoughts and feelings. He still didn't know what to say. There wasn't enough time to get into all of the things that needed to be said. That would have to wait for another conversation. One that could take place without Cordelia storming in and dragging him off to fight evil. Willow chewed her bottom lip and readjusted the dishcloth on its hangar for the tenth time. She was
probably worried that he would tell her he loved her again. She hadn't been ready to hear it. Once again, he had spoken too soon and he couldn't even blame it on delirium.

"Willow, I...." The rest of Angel's words were lost in Willow's mouth as she suddenly kissed him fiercely. He responded with equal hunger. She was delectable. So sweet and tempting. Angel felt a dizzying rush of demon adrenaline sweep through him at the same time he detected the metallic taint to Willow's saliva. She had bitten her lip. He had to stop. He had to break the kiss before the hint of blood intoxicated him to a point where he lost all control. Instead, he sucked harshly on her lower lip, drawing more of her irresistible essence into his mouth.

It was Willow who pulled away, but only to breath. Already past the point of his better judgement, Angel ran kisses along Willow's jaw and down her neck. He nuzzled there for a long moment, relishing the feel of her warmth beating beneath his lips. He swirled his tongue against her skin, searching for the right spot. He felt his face shift, but before he could bite, Willow adjusted him away from her neck and down to the softness of her breast.

Her blood warmed him. It enveloped him in reassurance. She loved him. She would always love him. He could taste it. "I'm yours, Angel," Willow whispered, confirming what her blood had already told him.

Angel withdrew his fangs and placed a soft kiss on his mark. It would disappear soon, as the others had. He looked deeply into Willow's eyes and covered her wounded breast with his hand. She put her hand over his. "I gconai, mo ionuin. Ta me ceangailte le thu i gconai." Angel leaned in close and whispered the translation into her ear, "Always, my beloved. I am tied to you always."

*****

The house was cold without him. Willow knew that anyone else would find that statement weird since Angel emanated no body heat. They wouldn't understand how his presence filled all the empty places in her heart. She hadn't expected this when she had made her decision to do the spell herself. It hadn't entered her wildest dreams that she would fall in love with Angel when she had made the deal for the spell. And, of course, since she hadn't considered her own feelings, the fact that Angel loved her...it made her dizzy just thinking about it.

A jaunty rap on her front door, interrupted Willow's tortured musings. She wouldn't have to think about Angel's love for her, because soon it would be a moot point. She was going to hurt him. Betray him. And he would hate her. Unless she didn't answer the door, called Angel and told him everything, asked him to protect her and hoped that he didn't die doing it. As if on cue, the jaunty knock turned into an impatient pounding. Willow sighed and stood up. She couldn't hide behind Angel and endanger him that way. She had to handle her problems herself.

Willow pulled open the door. "I have a doorbell, Casimir."

"I know, but I'm an old-fashioned guy." He winked flirtatiously, but it had little effect on Willow. His "old-fashioned guy" reference had made her think of Angel. It was too close to what he had said to her just a few hours ago. Casimir didn't seem to notice her distaste though as he walked into her home. Most people would have surveyed the decor, but he only stared at her.

Casimir Demetrius Kalandash was a devilishly handsome man around Willow's age. He had thick, dark hair that flowed to his shoulders and a deep olive complexion that emphasized the intensity of his icy blue eyes. He was Miss Calendar's nephew and a member of the gypsy clan that had originally cursed Angel. And like Miss Calendar, Willow hadn't known any of this until it was too late.

"I noticed you had company earlier." Casimir walked back to Willow, who hadn't moved, and closed the door for her. He touched her cheek. "I thought they would never leave."

Willow jerked away from him and started to head to the kitchen. She needed neutral territory, some place without couches and a big, fluffy loveseat that would lend a seduceable air to their conversation. Willow stopped abruptly. The kitchen table. She had seduced Angel on the kitchen table. She had said good-bye to him in there less than an hour ago. It was not neutral territory. "Look, can we just get this over with?" Willow spun around to face Casimir. He hadn't been
following her as she had thought, instead he was comfortably seated on the loveseat.

"Impatient? I thought women enjoyed foreplay." He beckoned for Willow to join him. She stayed where she was. "What? You weren't always so shy. Is it because I lied? Didn't tell you I was one of those horrid gypsies that cursed your vampire friend and are intent on making him live a miserable existence? I thought we had worked that out when I gave you the strengthening spell."

"You killed Buffy and Xander."

The announcement didn't phase Casimir. He didn't even feign surprise. "Not personally."

This wasn't right. Casimir wasn't trying to console her or trying to convince her that he had played no part in her friends' deaths. When she had found out he was a gypsy, Casimir couldn't have been more contrite. He had woven stories about how he had been afraid she would reject him because of his roots. How Miss Calendar had written him about her and he had dreamed of meeting her. How he didn't care about Angel and some ancient family vendetta. To prove it, Casimir had given her the strengthening spell. Of course, when Willow hadn't fallen for his lines, he had added strings. "The spell is real. I checked it out."

"Yes, it's real." Casimir reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a blood spattered piece of paper. "Too bad Buffy didn't get a chance to use it. But a deal is a deal, I gave you the spell, it's not my fault it wasn't used...."

"It was," Willow interrupted softly.

"Excuse me?" Casimir stood up and walked over to her. He loomed over Willow, trying to threaten her with his height.

Willow looked up at him calmly. "It was," she repeated. "I used the spell to anchor Angel's soul."

"You? What did you use to bind it?" Casimir grabbed Willow's arms when she didn't answer right away and gave her a rough shake. "What did you use?"

"Sex. Sex and blood. Our bond is unbreakable."

Casimir smiled. Willow didn't like it when he smiled now. His lips spread apart to reveal flashing white teeth. She would have said he looked like a wolf, but that would be a disservice to the animal. "We'll see about that. Maybe once you've heard my new proposition, you'll wish it was."

*****

The drive back to Los Angeles was long and Cordelia was uncharacteristically quiet. It didn't bother Angel though, he was distracted by thoughts of Willow. Everything had happened so fast and yet it seemed like he had been waiting forever to be with Willow. When he had been told of Buffy's death, his first impulse had been to go to Willow, but he had quickly quashed it. He hadn't trusted himself not to take advantage of her vulnerability and, looking back on what
happened the moment he had arrived back in Sunnydale, he had been right. His decision to leave Sunnydale all those years ago had been the right one. If he had stayed, his attraction to Willow would have grown until he wouldn't have been able to control it. That would have hurt Buffy deeper than his absence. She had moved on from that. Watching him fall in love with her best friend would have destroyed the slayer.

"Angel," Cordelia softly cut into his contemplation of the past. "We've been in the parking garage for five minutes. It's time to go up to the office." Cordelia touched his arm and opened her car door to make her point. When Angel did the same, she climbed out. Once they were in the elevator, Cordelia reached out again and patted his arm. "Everything will be all right." She gave him an encouraging smile and stepped off the elevator and walked toward the outer office.

That's when the alarm bells started to ring in Angel's head. Cordelia was acting strangely. First of all, she had neither grilled him nor teased him about what she had walked in on between him and Willow, but rather she had left him alone with his thoughts. And when he had zoned out in the car, her wake up call hadn't gone along the lines of, "We're here, Spacecadet, stop having icky thoughts about my friend and get your ass out of the car." Cordelia was only sensitive when
she was protecting him. And she was only quiet when she had done something he wouldn't like. "Cordelia...."

"Wesley!" Cordelia ran the last few steps toward Angel's partner and gave Wesley a big hug, ignoring Angel. "How's the fort? Any new business? Old business? Any business?"

"Uh, no. Well...hello, Angel," Wesley untangled himself from Cordelia and shifted nervously on his feet. "How was your trip?"

Something was definitely up. Wesley had grown more self-assured in the years he had been fighting demons by Angel's side, but he still reverted to his nervous stuttering when Cordelia conned him into covering for her. "What aren't you telling me?"

Cordelia and Wesley exchanged a look that confirmed his suspicion and told him that they were afraid of how he would react to their deception. Angel leaned against the coffee counter and folded his arms across his chest. His casual pose only made Cordelia more nervous. She twisted the ends of her hair and sat on the edge of her desk. "Well, I didn't exactly tell you everything about my vision."

"What exactly didn't you tell me?"

"The whole thing. I didn't have a vision about the skanky blond."

A creepy feeling of dread crawled from Angel's stomach and up his spine. "Who was the vision about?" He didn't have to ask the question, he knew the answer. He just had this perverse need to hear it from Cordelia's lips. There was the possibility he was wrong, that the vision had been about Kate, or Wesley, or even Cordelia herself, anyone but the one person he couldn't afford to lose.

"It was about you. And Willow."
 

Part 6

Angel spun around and headed for the elevator with one thought in his mind. He had to get back to Sunnydale. He felt hands grabbing at his arms as Wesley and Cordelia tried to stop him. He shook them off with a growl.

"Daylight! Angel, the sun's up. You can't help Willow if you're a big pile of vampire gone 'Poof!'" Cordelia renewed her grip on his arm. "And just how far do you think you'll get without Wesley or me to help you? Not very!"

For a second time, Angel shook Cordelia off. "Why the hell did you bring me back here?" He pounded on the closed doors of the elevator in frustration. His eyes glowed yellow under the ridges of his forehead as he snarled at the dents in the metal his fists had made.

"Calm down, come back to the office, stop growling at me and I will tell you," Cordelia snapped and stalked into Angel's office.

"Cordelia has had a very hard day, Angel. First the vision and then she was extremely worried about you and Willow. Please, understand that she did what she thought was best." Wesley patted Angel's shoulder. Angel shifted back to his human face and the men joined Cordelia in his office. Even though he was angry with Cordelia for deceiving him, Angel still felt pangs of guilt when she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Explain." It came out more curtly than Angel had intended, his worry for Willow foremost in his mind. Angel took a calming breath out of habit. As Doyle had promised so long ago, intermingling with humans made him feel more like one at times. "Please," Angel asked Cordelia more gently.

"I'm sorry, Angel, for lying to you. I didn't see any other way to get you away from there and this vision was very explicit. You had to leave." Cordelia wrung her hands and looked up at Angel. She didn't even try to stem the tide of tears falling down her cheeks. "This vision was different from the others. It wasn't fragmented feelings of fear and danger and disjointed pictures of trouble. It was a very clear message."

"That Willow was in trouble and we should leave her alone." Angel couldn't help the bitter interruption. After all he had done for the PTB, all the people he had saved, they had sent him away from the person who needed him the most. The person he needed the most.

"No. That Willow was in trouble only if you were there." Cordelia sighed at Angel and Wesley's confused looks. Angel knew that she found it difficult to explain her visions and that her emotional turmoil probably wasn't helping. "It was very clear. The vision showed me two outcomes. In the first one, Willow was home alone when this guy - longish dark hair, very blue eyes - showed up. She was upset, but she handled it. In the next one, you and Willow were together when the guy showed up. You started to fight and the guy tried to stake you, but Willow stepped in between you and he got her instead. She died, Angel. You attacked the guy and killed him and then...and then ...you staked yourself. Then I got the first vision again, just to make sure the point hit home. You there, everyone dead. You gone, Willow's fine."

In the silence of everyone digesting the content of Cordelia's vision, Wesley walked over and handed Cordelia a handkerchief. He sat down beside her on the small leather couch and rubbed her shoulders.

"Who is this guy? How can we be sure Willow's fine with him?" Angel wasn't going to let go of this too easily. Surely it could have ended some other way than all of them dying. Why didn't Cordelia just warn him what fighting with the guy would lead to? Angel looked at her for the answer.

Cordelia shifted uncomfortably on the couch. When she finally looked up at Angel, he didn't like the sympathetic look she gave him. "I didn't get a name, but he...he looked like her boyfriend."

*****

This was the Wishverse. The one where the evil Vampire Willow lived. It had to be. This couldn't be her world. This couldn't be her comfortably fluffy armchair or her big beautiful house that she had once shared with her two best friends and werewolf ex-boyfriend. It couldn't be, because if it was, then she would have to deal with the proposal that was just handed to her.

"I must say, I was expecting a more enthusiastic response. Nontraditional, perhaps, more along the lines of a good hard slap across the face rather than a nice wet kiss, but enthusiastic none the less. What's the matter?"

"What's the matter," Willow repeated. The rage built within her, climbing up her throat and clawing to be released. Every nerve ending she possessed vibrated with fury. She almost wished she could vamp out like Angel did at times like this, it would have been a satisfying outlet. Yelling at Casimir's smug face wasn't enough. "You come here. Pretend to have a crush on me. Lie to me. Offer me the use of a spell that I desperately need to help my friend, but only if I agree to have sex with you and transfer some of my power to you. Your family curses me and has my friends killed. Now you want me to marry you. And you're asking me what's the matter?" As Willow gave him the laundry list of his evil-doing, her voice rose until she was finally shouting. Her whole body shook.

Casimir moved off the loveseat and crouched down in front of Willow. He took her hands and engulfed them in his own. "I know it's not dinner in Paris, but why should we pretend you actually have a choice?" Casimir reached up and brushed some strands of hair from her face in what Willow guessed was supposed to be a loving gesture. He leaned in to kiss her, but Willow jerked away.

"I want you to leave," she stated coldly. Hell would freeze over before she married him. She would go to Angel and they would handle Casimir together, as Angel had wanted to in the first place. "Any deal we had is null and void. I will not marry you. I hate you."

When Casimir moved, it was so fast that Willow wasn't prepared for it. He grabbed her head in his hands and pulled her face toward him. His lips roved over hers harshly, bruising them. Then he pulled away. "I guess you need more encouragement. Fine, I'll spell things out for you." Casimir smirked at his own pun. He took the blood spattered piece of paper from his pocket once again and waved it in front of Willow's face. "This is soaked in the blood of your dead friends. It's a physical link to their spirits. If you don't become my wife, Willow, then I will use this small piece of paper to send the souls of your best friends straight into everlasting torment. It'll be worse than Hell. It'll be a Hell that I control."

"What's in it for you? You don't love me."

Casimir reached up and brushed her cheek. "That's not completely true. When Aunt Jana would write about you, I would read those passages over and over again and I knew that you were my destiny." For a moment, Casimir seemed lost in his memories, a melancholy smile on his face. He shook it off and replaced it with his trademark smirk. He put some distance between him and Willow by returning to the loveseat. "But you are right, there is something in it for me. Our marriage will create an alliance, what's yours is mine, including your power. I won't need one night of sex magic to steal a bit of it, I'll have access to it all. And now, with this unbreakable bond you've formed with the vampire, there is the added bonus of seeing him suffer with the knowledge that you belong to me."

"Bastard."

"Is that a yes?"

The bile rose in her throat and Willow closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at Casimir's self-satisfied face while she tried to control her retching insides. She was trapped. There was no way out of this disaster - unless she decided to allow Buffy and Xander to burn for all eternity, but that was not an option. She had thought that she would have to beg for Angel's forgiveness for one night of transactional sex. One night of whoring herself for a spell that had meant everything. But marrying another man, especially one who was a sworn enemy, was a betrayal on another level. There was no way Angel would every understand. What she was about to do would be unforgivable. Willow opened her eyes. "Yes."

*****

The red light on the phone blinked in the darkness. Angel had turned the ringer off after Cordelia's fourth phone call. After her announcement of her opinion about Willow's mystery visitor's identity, Angel had hustled Cordelia and Wesley out of the office with the excuse that he needed to sleep. Cordelia had given him two and half hours before she started calling, worried about his state of mind. Afraid that he would sink back into the moody vampire persona he had been after he had left Buffy in Sunnydale.

A boyfriend. Willow hadn't said anything about having a boyfriend. Of course that piece of news would have put a damper on her seduction plans. Although Angel had to admit, she had only planned on seducing him that first time, the second had been his idea. If she had a boyfriend, Willow would have told him. He would have already known about it. It wasn't like Willow to keep something like that to herself. She would have confided in Buffy and Xander at the very least and no one had mentioned anything about Willow having a boyfriend since Oz. And Angel had kept close tabs. Every time Willow's name had been mentioned by Cordelia, Kate - who had gotten to know Willow on one of her visits to L. A. and had kept in touch by e-mail - or one of the Scooby gang when they were in the city, he had paid attention. He had known when Oz had broken her heart the first time and when things hadn't worked out the second time. He had even known about her close friendship with Spike and, even though it had taken all of his will power, he hadn't interfered. He hadn't interfered in any of her relationships. Cordelia had to be wrong, this guy was not Willow's
boyfriend. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe Willow had been caught up in the spell and that's why she had responded to him the way she had. It made sense. That's why they would all be dead if he had stayed in Sunnydale. He would have attacked the guy in a jealous rage, because he was Willow's boyfriend.

"The sun went down hours ago, what the hell are you still doing here? You should be back in Sunnydale by now," a voice Angel had thought he
would never hear again yelled at him.

Angel slowly spun his chair around, away from the window he had been staring out of, to see if his ears weren't playing tricks on him. They weren't. "Xander. What are you doing here?"

The agitated ghost of Willow's best friend glared at him. "To get you up off your brooding ass to help Willow."

Angel swung back to the window, turning his back on Xander. "Willow doesn't need my help, at least not in person. I'll get in touch with the gypsies and tell them to leave her alone. Then she can get on with her life."

"So, that's it, huh?" Angel could hear the frustration in the dead boy's voice. "You get your feelings hurt so you come sulking back here and leave Willow to pick up the pieces. Just like with Buffy. She's all for this thing you have with Willow, by the way. Told me I should tell you to go for it."

That thought made him smile. He was glad that he had Buffy's approval for his relationship with Willow, even though it was misplaced and the relationship was never going to happen. "I take it you're not." Angel stood up and turned to look at Xander. They had never been friends and they never would be - too much competition for the love of the same women - but the guy had saved Willow's life. The least he could do was listen to him.

"You got that right, Deadboy."

Angel snorted at the old insult. "Look who's talking."

Xander looked down as his semi-transparent hands and conceded Angel's point with a shrug. "If I had my way, you wouldn't be in the same country as my Wills, let alone be her soulmate."

"I'm not. She has a boyfriend. That's why she wanted me out of Sunnydale and that's why she kept insisting that our feelings were just side effects of the spell casting. Because they were - for her. I'll make it clear to the Kalendash that what's happened is between them and me and they will leave Willow alone so she can be happy with this guy."

"Well, it looks like you've got it all planned out, with you in your favorite role. Martyr. Guess I can leave." Xander disappeared and then reappeared right in front of Angel. "Look, Dead...Angel, if Willow wasn't in trouble, if this guy wasn't a twelve hundred on a scale of one to ten of bad news, do you really think I would be here? Asking for your help?"

A horrible feeling crept over Angel as he realized the truth of Xander's words. "Who is this guy? Cordelia said he looked like her boyfriend and that if I had been there when he arrived we would all be dead."

"That's true, but he's not Willow's boyfriend. He's a Kalendash and if you don't do something to stop it, he's going to be her husband."

It was a good thing Angel hadn't moved away from the desk, his chair was right where it needed to be when he abruptly sat down. "Her husband. Willow a Kalendash." Angel felt like vamping out and tearing his place apart, but he couldn't. He was paralyzed. A yawning empty space was opening up in his heart. Willow was going to be his sworn enemy. "Does she know who he is?"

"Yes, but she doesn't like it and trust me, this is a marriage of convenience, his convenience." Angel felt something colder than his own flesh touch him as Xander's hand passed through his shoulder to get his attention. He looked up at the desperate ghost. "When they cursed you, the Kalendash ran into some bad magical karma. Not for the curse itself, giving you your soul back so you could suffer the consequences of your actions was justified, but the happiness clause crossed the line from justice into vengeance. Their magic waned and got weaker within every generation and when the clause was activated, they lost it altogether."

"Then how did they conjure the demon that killed you and Buffy? How could they curse Willow without magic?"

"They didn't curse Willow, they're just really good liars. And that demon was temporary - borrowed magic. This Casimir Kalendash is an expert in that area. Meet a witch, seduce her and then 'borrow' her power via the link that sex provides. Then he kills her, but that's just for fun."

Xander's caustic words made Angel pale more than his usual pasty skin tone. "Why would he marry Willow if he was just going to kill her?"

"That was his original plan, but this thing you have with Willow was an opportunity the clan wasn't willing to pass up and there's also this little detail that makes Willow's life valuable to them. When Willow restored your soul, without the happiness clause, she gained their magic. That's how she became so powerful, so fast. Kalendash wants to marry her so he can get it back."

"Willow won't marry him. She loves me."

Xander blanched at that statement. "So much so that she'll sacrifice herself to save your sorry ass." The bitter words had barely left Xander's mouth when his eyes took on a look Angel had never seen on the boy's face before, one he knew didn't come easy for Xander - naked supplication. "Please, Angel, you have to stop her. This guy will destroy her. Think of how she'll feel the first time he uses her magic to torture and kill another person?"

Angel didn't need any more prodding. He stood up and without thinking, walked right through Xander. "That isn't going to happen. He won't get the chance to use her magic. There will be no marriage," was Angel's vow as he walked out of the office.

*****

The hairbrush whispered through her hair for well over the hundredth time, any hint of a snarl or knot had long been untangled by the soft bristles. Willow Catherine Kalendash. Mrs. Casimir Kalendash. Both sounded like the hollow metallic clang of jailhouse doors slamming shut. Not that she had ever heard actual jailhouse doors slamming shut, just ones on televison or in the movies. Xander liked cop shows. The sound had always made her shiver and just thinking about it made Willow shiver now.

McAlistair. That was the name Angel had given her mother. She wondered if it was real or if he had made it up to pacify a suspicious parent. Either way, it sounded better than the one she was stuck with. Of course she could insist on keeping her own name, but that wouldn't change anything. She would be a Kalendash until death do they part. The people who murdered Buffy and Xander were her family.

A burning sensation tingled at her breast. At first, Willow, thought it was just a physical manifestation of the horrid guilt and disgust she felt, but the pain sharpened and Willow cried out. She clawed at the satiny white material, opening the small ivory buttons until her breast was revealed. Willow pushed aside the lace of her bra as white hot needles prickled through her skin. Angel's parting bite glared red against her pale skin. Willow brushed it lightly with her thumb and frowned. It should have been almost healed by now. Instead it was looking fresher, like Angel had just bitten her. The pain subsided and Willow covered herself again but the frown didn't leave her face.

*****

Three hours after he had left the ghostly Xander, Angel returned to the office. "Do you really think I care about your stupid cop rules?" he could hear Cordelia shriek even thought he was still at the end of the hall. And he doubted that it had anything to do with the fact he was a vampire. He was pretty sure that mere mortals across the street could hear her. "You're supposed to be Angel's friend, Kate, do something!"

Angel arrived in the doorway just in time to see Wesley wrestle the phone from Cordelia's grasp. "Detective Lockley, I apologize for Cordelia's behavior, it's just that we are very concerned. Angel could be in an extremely fragile emotional state and we would like to find him as soon as possible. If he contacts you...."

"I'm fine," Angel cut in. He felt touched that Cordelia and Wesley were so worried about him. Even though they had been around awhile, it was still new to have people who cared about him in his life. He was about to apologize for not leaving a note when Cordelia enveloped him in a fierce hug.

"Don't you ever do that to me again. If I develop worry lines it will totally be your fault and you'll so be floating the bill for plastic surgery, pal." Cordelia socked him not so lightly on the arm.

"Thank you for your help, Detective Lockley, but Angel is here now." Wesley hung up the phone.

Cordelia snorted. "Help. Since when is she ever any help at all. It's always, 'that's against the law' and 'don't kill that guy, it's up to a just to decide.' And you've known her for three years now, Wesley, you can call her Kate."

"Angel." Wesley ignored Cordelia's diatribe and focused in on his employer and friend. "Where were you? Are you okay?"

Angel nodded and walked past them into his office. "There was something I needed to do to protect Willow." Angel grabbed the overnight bag he had discarded onto the couch that morning. "Incidently, why are you two acting like I'm going to stake myself?"

"Well, duh, we saw the email." Cordelia gestured at the computer like it had done something terribly wrong. "I mean, you just left it open like that and it's eye catching. Are you sure you're okay?"

"What email?" Their concern was nice, but Angel did not have time for it. As it was, he didn't have much time to get to Sunnydale before first light. He had to explain to Willow what he had done and why he had done it.

"The one you opened before you disappeared." Wesley had that thoughtful look that usually meant that he was going to try and explain something.

"I didn't open any email. Xan...." Angel glanced at Cordelia and then changed his mind about telling them about his phantom visitor. Cordelia had taken her highschool boyfriend's death hard and she was just getting back on an 'I'm really okay' track that Angel didn't want to mess up. "My friend must have opened it after I left."

"You don't have any friends." Cordelia wasn't making sparing her feelings easy. "Besides us."

"That are alive. My friend happens to be dead, I didn't think you wanted to be introduced. What does this email say?" Angel turned the monitor toward him. It was a fancy message formatted like a card. An invitation.

"You are formally invited to celebrate the marriage of Miss Willow Catherine Rosenberg and her one true love, Casimir Demetrius Kalendash."
 
 

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