Part One

They had sex.   After every life and death, good versus evil battle, they went back to his place and had sex.  Angel watched out of the corner of his eye as Willow let loose a fireball in an unfortunate Undine demon's direction.  The bulbous water elemental tried to flow itself away from the flames, but it wasn't fast enough.  A loud hiss and crackling sizzle signaled the moment orange heat met cool blue. With a long drawn out screech, like the urgent whistle of a tea kettle, the demon evaporated.  A part of Angel took all of it in while he fought his own opponents, but another part of him was somewhere else. It was already back at his apartment with Willow, touching her and feeling her touch him.  He dreaded those times as much as he anticipated them.

A drop of water hitting his head and sliding down the side of his neck pulled Angel to the immediate present and he automatically looked up. For anyone else, it would have been a deadly mistake, for Angel it was just uncomfortable.  Angel caught a glimpse of a wavery reflection of something in the viscous Undine before it opened a piece of the thin lining that retained its earthly shape around the area where Angel's mouth would have reflected.  It expelled a torrent of seawater down onto him.  The hot poker in Angel's hand fizzled under the onslaught and it clattered to the concrete along with him.  As the water pounded into him, Angel was grateful that he didn't need to breath.  It was obvious that the strategy of this attack had been to choke him, but it was also obvious that the Undines had never fought a vampire until now.  Or a witch.  Before Angel could get up and shake himself off, the temperature of the room suddenly increased.  He ducked and rolled into a metal locker, slamming the door shut just as a large whooshing current of flames rushed through the warehouse.

When it got quiet a few minutes later, Angel kicked open the metal door and crawled out.  Wesley emerged from a side door looking both wet and singed.  Gunn tossed the large piece of sheet metal he had took cover under off of him and stood up, glaring in Willow's direction.  Fire was the only weapon they could use to combat the Undine water elemental, a being Angel knew was usually a benign demon. Undines had no discernible shape, except the one they
adopted to entice humans.  In their natural state in the ocean, they were unnoticeable,  just more water in a body of water.  They were usually responsible for playing tricks on sailors and divers, sometimes resulting in drowning deaths, but they never left the water.  For some reason these ones had come ashore and drowned three people.  Now they had been stopped, but Angel had no idea why they had suddenly started attacking people or whether any more would come in their place.  Right now he didn't want to think about it.

Angel's eyes searched the warehouse for Willow.  She was okay, he knew that, but he wanted to see her.  She stood at the far end of the warehouse, the end that wasn't scorched and burned by her magic.  She stood like the glorious fire goddess that she was, head held high with her red hair cascading down her back.  Since her move to L. A., Willow had kept her colorful skirts and funky shirts packed away and had taken a shine to silk and leather.  A black leather vest fit snugly over her breasts and waist and dark forest green silk pants clung to the curve of her ass and the lovely lines of her legs.  There was nothing Angel wanted to do more than take her into his arms and sear himself with her heat.

He didn't touch her.  That was the first rule.  They had never discussed the rules, but they both knew what they were.  The first one was that there was no physical contact between them until they were back in the secluded confines of his hotel room.

*****

As soon as the elevator hit the right floor, they were on each other. Wesley had wisely excused himself in the parking garage, mumbling some excuse about checking on Cordelia and seeing if he could find anything more on the Undines.  Gunn had left them at the warehouse, insisting on patrolling the waterfront area more closely for clues or any Undine stragglers that hadn't been steamed by Willow's fireball. What happened when Willow and Angel were alone after an intense skirmish was no secret.

Willow jumped Angel, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.  Their lips met with unsatiable abandon, tongues dancing a torrid tango in each others' mouth.  Angel stumbled back and cast an arm out, searching for the control panel.  He hit the right button and the elevator doors opened.  Angel carried her to his room and slammed Willow's back up against the nearest wall.  The medieval weaponry hanging there quivered from the impact.  Willow tore her mouth away and took ragged gulps of air into her lungs.  She had wanted to touch him back at the warehouse.  When he had come out of the locker all slick and wet, she didn't know where she had found the strength to squelch the urge to lick him dry like a lioness grooming her king of the jungle.

She hadn't touched him.  Not until they were back in their safety zone. Willow wove her hands in Angel's damp hair and squeezed the strands, lubricating her fingers.  She slid them down his face and brushed her thumb across his firm contoured lips.  Their eyes locked as Angel captured the digit, biting down gently with his front teeth and flickering the tip of his tongue on the sensitive pad.

The stolen moment of intimacy lasted less than a minute.  She and Angel didn't linger over these seconds, it would be too easy to fall into them and that wasn't what their relationship was about.  That was the second rule.  It was just sex, anything more would only complicate things to a level Willow couldn't handle and Angel didn't want.  She couldn't lose him.  If this was all he wanted from her, than Willow would give it to him and be satisfied with it.  It's not like sex with Angel was a bad thing.

Willow dipped her head and nuzzled Angel's neck.  She blew softly on his skin, knowing that he delighted in the feel of her warm breath. She licked over the place where his pulse point should be and tasted the salty residue of the Undine that had attacked him.  Angel pulled away from her and pressed her closer to the wall as he let go of her backside.  Willow squeezed her thighs around his waist and raised herself up his body, clutching at his shoulders for added
support.  Angel's hands molded the leather of her vest against her skin.  He unzipped the zipper, baring her breasts.  The vest fit so snugly that Willow had decided to forego a bra when she had gotten dressed that afternoon.

While Angel nibbled at the side of her breast and teased the nipple of her other breast with his strong fingers, Willow pushed his jacket off his shoulders and pulled his t-shirt up.  Angel halted his ministrations long enough to help her get the t-shift over his head and thrown to the floor.  With his chest newly exposed to her gaze and her touch, Willow took advantage of the opportunity.  She leaned back into the wall and watched Angel's face as she caressed him.  His hands had returned to rest on her breasts and his fingers flexed against the soft mounds whenever she touched a sensitive spot.  Willow smoothed her palms down his chest, curling her fingers so her nails lightly grated over his nipples.  A growly groan rumbled from deep in Angel's throat.  His chocolate eyes flashed yellow.  Willow stroked his tightening abdomen and moved around to his back.  She raked her nails up his spine.

Once Willow's hands reached his shoulders again, Angel pulled her to him and backed away from the wall.  Willow held on tight and kissed him hungrily while he carried her toward the bed.  She shrugged out of her vest, letting it slide down her arms to land somewhere on the path to the bed.  At the last minute, Angel changed course and carried her into the bathroom.  Willow sucked at Angel's tongue, the suction drawing it deeper into her mouth.  Angel fumbled with turning the water on and stepped them into the shower.

Cold water sliced down onto Willow's back and she yelped in surprise. Angel spun her out from under the spray of the water.  "Sorry," he mumbled and adjusted the faucets to a warmer temperature.  Slowly, she slid down his body until her feet were firmly planted on the wet abraded shower floor.  She reached for his belt, unbuckling it and divesting him of his soaked pants and boxers.

As it did every time, the magnificence of Angel's body took her breath away.  Willow trailed her fingers down the hard muscles of Angel's chest and abdomen.  As she tickled his inner thigh, she could feel him hardening against the back of her hand and heard a deep rumble of satisfaction issue from within his throat.  It still amazed her that she had this effect on him.  The part of her that had cowered in the hallways of Sunnydale Highschool still whispered that girls like her
didn't get guys like Angel.  He belonged to the Buffy's and Cordelia's of the world and that he was probably pretending that she was Buffy because she was the closest thing he had to her.  The more confident part of herself - the one that practiced witchcraft, explored her sexuality, and fought evil - told that part to shut up.  It was her, Willow, who made Angel growl and purr and even if it was a side-effect of the geis that made him come to her, she was the one who gave him pleasure.  He came every time roaring her name, with the taste of her blood flooding his mouth.

The look of pure female pride on Willow's face at his body's reaction to her touch was too much for Angel.  He crushed her to him, his hands slipping all over her slick body.  He nibbled her neck, raking his fangs along her skin until he found his favorite spot just above her collarbone.  He bit down, taking a taste.  Willow moaned and her hand squeezed his erect shaft.  Angel couldn't believe his good fortune. This incredible woman not only gave him her body, but she also allowed him to feed from her.  He didn't deserve her.  He knew that it was the geis that compelled her to be with him, but he also knew that she enjoyed their time together.  Her moans and whimpers were testament to that and when she came it was his name that she cried out.

His hands traveled down to her ass, tearing the sodden silk of her pants off her body.  He would have to remember to replace them later. Maybe with a sexy, flowing skirt.  Angel grinned as he thought of the possibilities a skirt would offer and he retracted his fangs.  He lifted Willow by her waist and pressed her against the cool tile of the shower stall.  Her legs wrapped around his waist and he slid himself inside her hot wetness.  He buried his face in her hair and sighed.  He never wanted to leave her.  He wanted to stay like this forever.

It was completion having Angel inside her.  She felt whole.  Willow lifted his head from her shoulder and kissed him.  Her tongue demanded entrance into his mouth and Angel willingly gave it.  Their tongues tangled as their bodies started moving, the hot spray of the shower sensitizing their already stimulated flesh.  Angel's fingers dug into Willow's hips and she grasped his hair and pressed his head closer. There was desperation in their caresses, each could feel it in the other and it increased as their mutual pleasure hit its peak.

"Angel!"  Willow cried against his lips as her body trembled and vibrated.

"Willow!" Angel roared back, burying his fangs in her breast where the mark of his geis still resided and drinking in her sweet nectar tinged with the taste of her sated desire.

All too soon, Willow felt Angel's fangs retreat.  He never drank from her too long and sometimes his small sips were frustrating, although she would never tell Angel that.  It would only remind him of the time Angelus had possessed her body at her request and that would remind him of why he hated her.  He would be disgusted that he even wanted her like this and that she wanted him the same way.  Willow hugged herself closer to Angel as he carried her out of the shower to his bedroom. She didn't want to think of that time.  It was the reason why Angel could never truly be hers.

A shudder coursed through Willow's body as she burrowed closer to him. Angel wrapped his arms around her and made his way to his bedroom.  He shouldn't have bit her.  It could only bring back the memories of what a monster he was, how even without the demon, he succumbed to baser instincts and blood lust.  He didn't want to think about that right now.  He wanted to spend the rest of the early morning hours making love to Willow and pretending that she belonged to him.

*****

The return to wakefulness was gradual.  Willow was comfortable.  Her head was pillowed snugly on Angel's chest, his chin resting on her head and his arms banded around her waist.  Her hands rested on his shoulder and thigh and their legs entwined in a natural tangle.  Damn! She was way too comfortable.  She shouldn't have fallen asleep in his arms, it was too dangerous an activity to indulge in.  She could convince herself that the sex was just a result of the geis and the heat of battle, but sleeping like a baby in his arms couldn't be passed off as impersonal.

Slowly, Willow extracted herself from Angel's embrace.  She didn't want to wake him.  She didn't want to see his guilt and loathing over their liaison and she certainly didn't want to see coldness and indifference. She highly doubted that Angel would be happy to wake up with her still in his bed.  She was responsible for Buffy's death, she had almost gotten the love of his life's soul damned for eternity, and she had broken his heart into tiny pieces by betraying him over and over again. Willow knew that Angel had loved her at one time, but not any more.

Realizing that there was no way her clothes would be decent enough for her trip home, Willow raided the stash of clothing she kept in Angel's apartment.  They were more the Sunnydale Willow style - a dark green wrap around skirt and a black t-shirt with a sparkly pentagram.  Quickly, she dressed and left the room before Angel woke up.  She leaned her forehead against the bedroom door.

"I love you, Angel."  She mouthed the words into the wood that she wanted desperately to say to the man sleeping on the other side.

*****

The bedroom door closed with a soft click.  Angel opened his eyes to the quiet and empty room.  "I love you, Willow," he said softly, telling the emptiness what he longed to say to the woman who had just left his bed.  The only reason he didn't was because Willow didn't want to hear it and he didn't want to chase her away.  Not that she could go very far.

It had been six months since he had left Willow in Sunnydale and returned to Los Angeles.  Their separation had lasted less than a month.  The geis had done its work.  Every night he dreamed of her, she was in his thoughts every moment of the day, until finally he started hallucinating.  It had taken a rather embarrassing incident with Cordelia to make him admit that he needed to talk to Willow.  He had called her and had been terrified to find her line isconnected
until she had shown up on his doorstep.

As far as Angel knew, Willow had the same experiences in Sunnydale. Except she hadn't mentioned any embarrassing moments with the opposite sex - he would have hurt the guy if she had.  Needless to say, their frenzied reunion had kept them out of the evil fighting game for a few days.  Unfortunately, it hadn't been a hearts, flowers, and pop diva ballad worthy meeting, it was more wham-bam, thank-you, ma'am over and over and over again.  Later, once they had exhausted themselves, Willow had told him that Giles had found out that the geis compelled them to be together.  They didn't have to have sex, that was just because of the pent up hormones from being apart for so long.  Willow had moved to L. A., although to Cordelia's guest room and not his place.

Despite Willow's assertion that sex wasn't a condition of the geis, they had found themselves back at his place after a particularly close call with a Rarchuk demon two weeks after Willow moved to L. A. And then again a week later after a confrontation with Wolfram and Hart.  And then again...and again...and again.  Angel knew that the sex was a result of their mutual attraction.  Willow was still sexually attracted to him and because of the geis, their attraction flourished until they gave in to it.  Of course it helped that he was desperately in love with her.  Angel sighed and closed his eyes.  He had to get some sleep.  Soon everyone would return to the hotel and he would have to face Willow as a friend.  And pretend that he didn't love her.

*****

It was a beautiful L. A. morning.  Cordelia hummed along with the song on the radio as she carefully applied her new petal pink lip gloss. There was a sale at her favorite shoe store and she needed a new pair of black strappy sandals.  Then she had an audition for a to-die-for part on an actual prime-time sitcom.  And, thanks to Willow's mocha witch brew, no migraine.  The front door opened and Cordelia poked her head out of the bathroom.

"Morning, Willow.  How was the after-evil sexathon?  Can Angel still walk, because, you know, we need him tonight."  Cordelia greeted her room-mate with a huge grin.  She refused to ignore what went on between Angel and Willow like the others did.  Her friends were so obviously in love and it was so frustrating that they refused to see it.

"Shut up, Cordelia." Willow stalked past her and into her room, flopping onto her bed.

"You sure are grumpy for someone who is getting some.  And I know it can't be bad." Cordelia sat on the edge of Willow's bed.  Her mind briefly hovered over the memory of Angel's lips on hers when he had kissed her under the influence of his hallucinations.  Man, if she didn't love him only as her best friend in the whole world, than Willow would have had some competition, or maybe not.  Angel loved Willow and no other woman stood a chance.

"I can't do this anymore, Cordelia.  I can't be with him and not be with him," Willow sobbed.  "I love him."

"I know you do and he loves you too."  Cordelia stroked Willow's hair. "If you two would just talk and actually tell each other how you feel then we could stop this nonsense."

"I can't tell him.  He would only say he loved me because the geis would make him.  I killed his real feelings when I married Casimir, lied to him, broke his heart, and stole his demon."  Willow buried her face in her pillow.  Cordelia continued to rub her shoulders soothingly.  Willow wouldn't listen to her when she was this upset. And Angel was just as bad.

"Do you want me to get the Triple Brownie Fudge ice cream out of the freezer?"

"No." Willow looked up.  "You have an audition this morning.  You go break a leg and I'll only mope for an hour, I promise."

"Okay, but we're meeting for lunch at Lorne's before going to the Hyperion to join the guys."

"As long as it's a late lunch.  Two o'clock, okay?" Willow wiped the tears from her eyes.

It killed her to see her best girlfriend so sad.  Cordelia hugged the redhead.  "Everything will be okay once you get some sleep.  Bye." She rose from the bed and shut Willow's bedroom door behind her. "Dennis, take care of her while I'm gone."  Her request was already fulfilled by a floating tub of ice cream coming down the hall.  She was leaving Willow in good hands.

*****

"Come what may.  Come what may," Lorne, also known as the Host, belted out to the empty chairs of Caritas.  "I will love you until my dying day."  He let the last note hang in the air for a few moments before he took a breath.

The always welcome sound of applause greeted him.  "I think that was even better than Ewan McGregor."  Cordelia grinned at the green-skinned and red-eyed demon from another realm.  She was glad that she and Willow had dragged him to a Sunday matinee of Moulin Rouge.  They had known he would love it.

"You flatter me, Cordelia." Lorne moved off the stage and gave Cordelia a kiss on the cheek.  "And you're early for lunch.  How did the audition go?"

"Great." Cordelia took a seat at a table that had been set for three. It had become her and Willow's habit to have lunch with Lorne before meeting up with the guys at the hotel for another night of fighting evil.  "I got a call back and those sandals I've been eying for weeks were on sale and I found the perfect birthday present for Willow."

"Then the problem lies elsewhere and it doesn't take an anagogic to know where.  How are my favorite witch and luscious vamp?" Lorne took a seat across from Cordelia, ready to dish.

"Does the word 'argh' mean anything to you?  They had another one of their 'nights of hot sex' and Willow came home in tears.  Neither of them will listen when I tell them that they love each other.  It's like they like moping and brooding."

"Some people are insecure, Dollface.  Our Angelcakes doesn't believe that he deserves our sweet Willow because of his past dirty deeds."

"And Willow has the whole Buffy thing to live up to."  Cordelia sighed. She rested her chin in her hands.  "If they don't get over it soon, I'm going to stop being subtle."

"I don't think locking them in a closet could be classified as subtly, Darling."

"Well, closets always worked for me and Xander."  Cordelia allowed herself a pang of sadness at the memory of her highschool sweetheart. Then she brightened and brought out a square leather jewelry case.  "I thought I would use Willow's birthday to get things rolling in the right direction.  You have everything ready for the party tomorrow night, right?"

"Of course, Caritas is closed to outsiders, the food and drink and merriment is all for the pretty witch."  Lorne watched curiously as Cordelia opened up the jewel case.  Inside lay a tarnished gold heart hung on a heavy gold linked chain.  Gingerly, he lifted the bauble from its velvety bed.  As he had thought it would, it jingled a slight, airy tune with the movement.  A dull power emanated from it.  Looking closer, Lorne noticed an inscription etched in it. 'I give you my
heart.'  "Don't you think you'll be sending Willow the wrong message by giving her this?  Or are you trying to make the big lug jealous?"

"No!  It's not going to be from me.  Angel is giving it to her."

Lorne placed the heart back in the box.  The prophecy of myth and twilight had begun.  He hoped his favorite band of demon fighters survived it.
 

Part Two

It was too pleasant a dream to leave. Angel was walking along the beach with Willow. Her hand fit snugly in his and the sand was hot under his bare feet. He was human. The afternoon sun ignited the flames of Willow's hair. She smiled at him, love shining in her eyes. Angel opened his eyes with that image burned in his brain and sighed. Maybe someday his dream would come true. Because of the botched healing spell, Willow was immortal. It was possible that by the time he earned his redemption and the PTB made him human, Willow might love him again. There wouldn't be the demon between them anymore and once
unshackled from Angelus, Angel fully intended to pursue Willow with all the romantic flair in his possession. Angel smiled and closed his eyes again. He would love to dream about that.

But he couldn't. Angel sat up, resigned to being awake. Already, he could hear two heartbeats downstairs. He looked at his bedside clock, it was four in the afternoon. It had to be Gunn and Wesley, Cordelia and Willow would still be with Lorne having lunch. He would have time to shower, get dressed, have a cup of coffee, and get himself together before Willow arrived.

*****

"So, what you're telling me, English, is that there's no damn good reason for these water demons to get freaky and kill people?" Gunn paced the lobby. He didn't like this situation. He hadn't liked anything since she had shown up. It was too reminiscent of another time Angel had gone wiggy over a woman and this Willow was driving the vampire to the brink. And Cordelia and Wesley just accepted her as one of their own.

"Well, someone could be compelling them to act unnaturally, but this person would have to have incredible magical power to control them." Wesley frowned as he tried to put the puzzle together. His eyes landed on the morning newspaper, the headline catching his eye. "This could be connected to the ritual killings. We've already established that the young women were Wiccans..."

"Maybe it's Willow. She's a witch..."

"Now, see here, Gunn," Wesley jumped up. Gunn was a trusted friend and ally, but Willow was a protege of Mr. Giles and the best friend of the Slayer, what he was suggesting was ludicrous. "I know you harbor some animosity toward Willow, but the very idea..."

A loud, angry growl interrupted Wesley's defense. Gunn and Wesley turned. Angel stood at the bottom of the stairs, fully vamped out, his yellow eyes glaring at Gunn. The young man immediately threw up his hands in an 'I surrender' gesture. "Hey, Angel, man, I meant as a target. I was thinking out loud and Wes didn't let me finish. Maybe Willow is who those water demons were after and they killed those people to get our attention." Gunn waited nervously, but Angel didn't revert to his human features. If anything, he growled a bit louder.

"It does make sense," Wesley offered weakly. "Willow is a young Wiccan. She would be a logical target and our group is rather prominent in the underworld."

A burst of feminine laughter cut through the tension in the Hyperion's lobby. Willow and Cordelia walked through the front door, oblivious to the controversy inside. "And she said that to the director," Cordelia continued the story that had made Willow laugh. "Can you believe it?"

"Actually, yes, after the stories you've told me. Hi, gu..." The smile left Willow's face and worry replaced the laughter in her eyes once she saw that Angel was in vamp mode. "Angel, what's wrong?" She quickly crossed the lobby to him. She reached up and touched his cheek.

"Willow." Angel's features softened back to human. So much for gaining a measure of composure before seeing Willow again. Now, thanks to Wesley and Gunn, he was terrified for her safety. He wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and not let go until the ritual killings had stopped.

"I really hate to break up the tender moment, guys, but what the hell was going on when we walked in?" Cordelia dropped her purse on her desk. She really had hated interrupting, but it's not like Willow and Angel would acknowledge the feelings that they were currently displaying for all to see. Damn, she wished she had a video camera and then she could play back these intimate moments for them to see. Hey, that wasn't a bad idea, but, eww, who knew what other 'intimate' moments she would catch on tape. She would have to actually consider this idea before going through with it.

"There was another ritual killing last night. Angel became a tad upset when Gunn suggested that Willow may be a target given that the victims were all young Wiccans." Wesley's eyes lit up as he remembered the idea he had had before Angel had come downstairs. "I think the ritual killings are connected to the unusual activity of the elementals lately. Someone is inducing the behavior of the elementals and using the ritual killings to gain enough power to control them."

"Casimir," Willow whispered the name, her mouth suddenly dry. The others didn't hear her, but Angel did. His hands gripped her shoulders.

"The Wiccans were killed by a vampire," Angel said more for Willow's benefit than the others. "The ritual killings were more likely sacrifices, a vampire has no use for magic power beyond that and even less of a reason to control elemental demons."

"Well, there's really only one solution. Willow has to move into your room, Angel," Cordelia declared. She could kiss Wesley and Gunn for suggesting Willow was in danger - it was perfect. Unlike the guys - and more specifically, Angel - Cordelia was quite confident that Willow could take care of herself, so she wasn't too worried about her friend, but Angel would be worried sick.

"What!" Willow shrieked and Gunn yelled at the same time. As Cordelia thought, Angel didn't protest.

"There are a lot of rooms here, perhaps it would be best if you moved into one of them." Wesley made the more tactful suggestion.

"No, no, there are too many rooms. Anyone could just walk in and carry Willow off into the night or daylight and Angel wouldn't hear a thing." Cordelia nixed that idea with a shake of her head. She had that determined Queen C look that had won her many a 'Queen of' trophy and could beat Willow's famous 'resolve face' hands down. "If Angel is going to protect her properly, Willow has to move into his room."

There was not an animal Willow could see fit to turn Cordelia into. And in her present state of mind, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to turn Cordelia back into her persistently annoying self again. The woman was incorrigible. Willow gritted her teeth. "What about you? If whoever is doing the ritual killings is after me than they know that I live with you and you're in danger as well. Maybe you should move into Angel's room with me? We can have a big 'Protect Willow' slumber party."

Cordelia covered her mouth and faked a yawn. She was going to burst out laughing. "No, that wouldn't work. I need my beauty sleep and you and Angel are just too darn loud with the moaning and screaming."

Willow turned a shade of red that hadn't even been named yet. She stepped away from Angel on the stairs and crossed over to her computer on her desk. "I'm checking my email." Blindly, Willow went through the motions of booting up her computer and opening her email account. She loved Cordelia, she really did, but lately she had been getting too overt in her attempts at matchmaking. Why didn't she just leave them alone, let them sort things out themselves?

If looks could kill, Angel would have drained Cordelia already. What was wrong with her? Upsetting Willow like that. Not that he wasn't elated at her suggestion that Willow move in with him, but she didn't have to bring up the sex stuff. Willow's embarrassment only went to show how mortified she was about that part of their relationship. How she hated it that she wanted him that way. But still, Willow was in danger. "I'm a vampire, I have sensitive hearing. As long as you both pick a room on the same floor as mine, I can protect you." He extended the invitation to Cordelia as well because he knew that, despite her behavior, having her here would make Willow more comfortable. Cordy didn't look too pleased at her new role as chaperone though, but then she smiled and she looked way too pleased. Willow probably wouldn't be very comfortable and neither would he. "Willow?"

"What?" Willow looked up from the email she had been reading. Her face glowed with happiness. "Oh, yeah, sure, Angel. Cordy and I will pack tonight." She went back to reading her email and within moments, she let out an excited squeal. "Guess what? Tara's coming to L. A. for my birthday!"

Oh, yeah, Willow was definitely moving in with him. Into his room.

*****

The mansion was blessedly cool and dark and gloriously empty. Every window was shuttered tight and heavily draped. The spiral staircase was a ghostly white glow in the gloom. Her moans of ecstacy rebounded back to her in a lovely acoustical echo. Darla screamed and dug her fingernails into the chest of her lover, but she wasn't finished. She continued to ride Lindsey, bending her head down to lick the blood from the small half moon wounds she had left. Poor boy, she had found him in the middle of nowhere wallowing in melancholy. He didn't love her anymore, he was punishing himself by being with her. Darla reached down and caressed his pretty face. He was so much like her boy, her Angel. He wouldn't be like her Angelus though once he was turned.
Lindsey didn't have her Angelus' savage heart just a ferocious baseness.

"Please, Darla," Lindsey moaned, baring his neck to her. Everyday since she had found him he had begged her to turn him. To release him from his pain and guilt. Darla bit down on his neck and drank. She would one day. Just not yet.

"You two make me sick." Darla looked up and smiled at their room-mate and partner in crime, Casimir Kalendash. "There are twenty-four goddamn rooms in this fucking place, couldn't you have picked one of them for your sex games instead of the front hall?"

"I like this room just fine," Darla purred. She inhaled sharply. "Can't you smell the death, Gypsy? My friend Dru and I had a party here in wine cellar years ago. Remember that, Lindsey?" Darla let out a long, drawn out moan as she climaxed. She climbed off Lindsey and closed her pink silk robe. "Sure was nice of Holland to keep the place empty and waiting all these years for us. Did you find another pretty young witch?"

"Yes." Casimir stepped back from Darla, his distaste evident from the curl of his lip. Her boytoy, Lindsey, disgusted him even more. How could the guy let himself be used by such a vile creature. Working with them was a necessary evil. They could help him destroy Angel and make Willow his to punish forever. Casimir massaged his aching hand, it hadn't healed properly after Willow had broken it and it still hurt like a bitch. He contented himself with fantasizing about Willow's pain.

"Oh, don't be such a glum gus. We don't like you either, but at least our work is fun." Darla started up the stairs. "Get up and get dressed, Lindsey, it's time you got your old job back. Then I want to see my boy." It was time to kick this game into high gear and let her Angel know she was back in town. The Gypsy might think she was going to help him kill her boy and get him the witch, but no. She was here to get her Angelus back. And after spying on him and the witch these last few months, Darla had a feeling that her boy would insist on turning her. Darla growled with anticipated satisfaction as she thought about joining in on the passion her Angelus and the witch shared. Yes, they would be a very happy family. Soon, these halls would echo with the Gypsy's screams.

*****

"Hey, Angel, you done brooding about the whole Tara visit yet? Cordelia popped into Angel's office. She shut the door and flopped down into the nearest vacant chair. "I need to talk to you about Willow's birthday."

"What about it?" Angel asked absently. He tented his fingers, flexing them slightly while he pursed his lips.

"You first. Talk about it, Big Guy."

"Do you think Willow still 'loves' loves Tara? I mean, it's been a long time and Willow did say that their relationship had settled into just a close friendship before they broke up. Do you think she's coming to L. A. to get Willow back? Do you think Willow would want to be with Tara again? Has she said anything to you?"

"Whoa, Angel, why are you so freaked about this? Willow loves you. I know you never believe me when I say this, but its true."

As Cordelia went into her spiel about his and Willow's relationship, Angel returned to thinking about Tara. He was freaked. This was different from when Oz came to town a couple of months ago. He could compete against Oz, they were on the same playing field. Anything Oz had to offer Willow, Angel had it too and, not to be egotistical or anything, but he had a couple hundred years experience on the wolf and he was...taller. Tara was a different story entirely. She was female and a witch. She and Willow could share those experiences and he very obviously couldn't. And while he still had that tallness going for him, what if Willow realized that tallness wasn't what she wanted. That there was no way he could ever make her happy. So much for being tall.

"You aren't listening to a thing I'm saying. So, here." Cordelia placed a jewel case tied with a big gold bow on his desk. She looked at him expectantly.

"I was listening." Cordelia gave him a withering look that said she didn't believe him. "What's this?"

"It's your birthday present to Willow."

"No." Angel reached into his desk. He pulled out a rectangular shaped, nicely wrapped present. "This is my birthday present to Willow."

"Oh, please. What is it? Some dusty, old, boring book?" Cordelia picked it up. At Angel's sheepish look, she knew she was right. "That really says romance, Angel. You're giving her this. It'll show her how much you love her." Cordelia pushed her present toward him and pocketed his.

"I can't give her something like that, Cordy. Willow and I are just friends. She doesn't...."

Out in the lobby area, Wesley, Gunn, and Willow all jumped as Cordelia's ear-splitting shriek of unadulterated frustration came from Angel's office.
 

Part Three

Los Angeles.  It wasn't his favorite city in the whole world.  It didn't have the old-fashioned elegance or ancient comfortableness of most European cities.  It didn't have the bohemian artiness of New York or the wild ruggedness of Seacouver.  Methos, otherwise known in this century as Adam Pierson, sighed and flipped the blind shut on the setting sun.  He was too old for this city.  A sardonic smile crossed his lean, handsome features.  At five thousand years and counting, he was too old for most cities.  As the oldest Immortal on record, he planned on staying that way, hence his visit to this particular city. Someone with an uncomfortable amount of information about him - Methos, not Adam Pierson - had requested a meeting.

A knock on his door brought Methos to attention.  He hadn't ordered room service and he didn't know anyone in this city.  Methos reached under the bed and withdrew his sword.  Holding it in a deceptively casual grip, he crossed the room and swung open the door.  "Macleod," he hissed, instantly relaxing at the sight of his friend and fellow Immortal.  "I told you I would handle it.  Alone."

"Well, now you don't have to." Duncan Macleod of the clan Macleod stood stoically stubborn in the doorway, waiting for Methos to let him into
the room.  The tall, darkly handsome man looked every inch the Highlander he was known to be - loyal, trustworthy, with a chivalrous code of honor that would have put an Arthurian knight to shame. Sometimes Methos loathed him as much as he admired him.  The two, dark haired men glared at each other, both annoyed at the other's pig-headedness.

"Are we going to be standing out in the hall for a while?" the gravelly voice of Joe Dawson interrupted the two Immortals' stare down.  The physically older looking man with the salt and pepper hair and beard leaned heavily on his cane.  "Because I could use a drink."

"Come in." Methos relented, letting his friends into his room.  Joe limped to a chair and sat down.  The trip had obviously taken a lot out of the watcher.  Methos got him the drink he had requested from the mini-bar.  "Since you're here, you might as well make yourselves comfortable."

"Sorry, Methos, but you'll just have to get used to having friends." Macleod shut the door and sat down in the remaining chair.  "Ones that worry about you and want to back you up when you're in danger."

"I'm not in danger.  It's just a potential blackmailer who is only going to find him or herself on the wrong end of my sword."

"It could be an ambush.  Someone looking for the oldest Immortal's head." Macleod frowned at his friend.  He knew that Methos had managed
to survive thousands of years without his help, but he had a bad feeling about this meeting and he didn't like it that the older Immortal didn't share his concern.  Methos was smarter than that, most Immortals didn't even know that he was Methos.  He had convinced everyone that Methos was a legend and had even spent years undercover as a watcher whose duty was to research the Immortal Methos.  No, Methos wasn't unconcerned, he just wasn't telling them everything.

"It's not an ambush." Methos' certainty in that statement confirmed Macleod's suspicion.  "This person has to be a watcher, not an Immortal.  Only a watcher would have access to the type of information I was sent."

"I have to agree with Methos, much as I hate to," Joe put in his two cents.  "When and where are you meeting this person."

"In a warehouse tomorrow evening." Methos looked pointedly at the two men.  "I was told to come alone."

"Since when do you do what you're told?"  Joe muttered gruffly, earning a grin from Methos.

"Since never, but it's not too late to start."

*****

Humans never ceased to amaze Lorne.  Or in this case, a vampire with a soul and a witch with one of the purest spirits he had ever seen. Lorne watched Angel and Willow not be together.  Willow sat with Faith and Giles, who had come to town for the party, pretending that she didn't glance at Angel every five seconds.  Angel sat in a corner with Gunn, nursing a drink and not bothering to pretend that he wasn't staring.  It was no wonder the fair Cordelia was ready to tear her lovely hair out and screaming in frustration.  He had heard all about the incident in Angel's office when Cordelia had come over earlier to set up the party.  She was currently flitting about, making sure everyone had drinks and food and alternating frowns between Angel and Willow.  That girl was always on the job.

"Watch it, Beautiful, didn't your mother ever tell you that your face might stay that way." Lorne caught Cordelia's arm.  "You've set things up, now it's time to sit back and let it develop on its own."

"Do you think it will?"  Cordelia bit her lip.  "I mean, look at them sitting across the room from each other.  They're like sixth graders at a sock hop.  Unless you know something I don't.  Angel hasn't been in a Manilow mood lately, has he?"

"Good God no.  I love the hunk, but that voice is in case of emergency only.  I don't need to hear him sing to know he loves her and that eventually those kids will get it together."  It also helped that he knew of the Prophecy of Myth and Twilight, but much as he wanted to, it wasn't his place to tell them about it.  You didn't mess with fate, it always got its own way.  "They have to get it together before it's too late."

"Lorne..." Cordelia touched her friend's hand, worried about his words and his expression.  He looked shaken, like he had seen something he didn't want to.  She could relate, but it didn't excuse him from not telling her what he knew.  Before she could pry any details, the front door swung open and two uninvited guests walked in.  At least, uninvited according to Cordelia's guest list.

"Happy birthday, Pet!" Spike announced.  He quickly crossed the room and swept Willow off her feet in a hug.  Anya hung back a little, a brightly wrapped present in her hands.

"Spike!" Willow squealed and hugged him back.  She had missed him. She hadn't seen him since she had moved from Sunnydale to L. A.

"I missed you, Red." Spike caught the golden gaze of his grandsire over Willow's shoulder, but it didn't stop him from placing a kiss on her lips.  Bloody Poof didn't own her.  He let her go when Angel stood up and approached them.

"Happy birthday, Willow." Anya handed Willow the present.  The former vengeance, now chaos, demon shifted uncomfortably.

"Thank you, Anya." Willow smiled.  She felt Angel's hand slip around her waist and rest on her hip.  "Why don't you two get yourselves a drink and join the party."

"Willow and I are glad you could make it, Anya."  Angel managed a smile in Anya's direction, but didn't look at Spike.  His easy friendship with Willow still irked him, mostly because he was jealous of it. Willow was never that comfortable in his presence.

"Peaches, I'm crushed."  Spike would have said more, but a warning glare from Willow shut him up.  It wouldn't have normally, but it was the chit's birthday and all.

"Hey, you're just in time for the gift opening."  Cordelia jumped into her hostessing duties and took Anya and Spike's present from Willow and led everyone over to a table with the other gifts.  She couldn't wait for her to open Angel's present, but she did.  She waited while Willow opened a book about ancient witchlore from Giles, a set of throwing knives from Faith, a computer program that wrote spells from Wesley, a Ouija board from Gunn, and a bottle of champagne from Spike and Anya.

"It's our special blend." Spike tapped the label.  "But don't drink it all in one place, you know how you get when you're drunk." He waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated leer, ignoring Angel's soft growl.

"Moving on, then." Cordelia handed Willow the second last present. "This is from me and the other one is from Angel."

"You got me a book, Cordelia?" Willow ran her fingers over the soft worn leather.  From Cordelia she had expected some type of clothing, something short and tight that the cheerleader would suggest she wear to make Angel realize he loved her.  "A first edition of Dracula."

"Yes.  I know what books are.  Besides, thought it might remind you of Angel, because it's old...and vampirey..."

"If you really want to embarrass her, read the inscription," Angel suggested.  He had to admit that he was enjoying his seer's discomfort. He was romantic and Cordelia's suggestion that he wouldn't know how to pick out a gift for Willow that would reflect his feelings for her had rankled him.

Cordelia glared at Angel and shoved the last present at Willow.  Thank God she had bought Willow an actual present from her that she had left
at their apartment.  "This is from Angel.  Open it!"

You couldn't argue with Cordelia when she was in an insistent mood. Although Willow didn't know why she was so hot for her to open this present, the book had obviously been from Angel.  Willow hesitated. Knowing Cordelia and her increasingly desperate attempts to 'fix' her relationship with Angel, she was afraid to open the present. Especially in front of people.  It looked like a jewelry box.  It was probably safe.  Willow untied the bow and opened the box.  The gold heart and chain nestled on the velvet lining was tarnished, but still the necklace was beautiful.  She picked it up and a tiny jingle of music danced in the air.  She held it out to Angel.  "Put it on me?"

It would have been easier to just slip the necklace over Willow's head, the chain was long enough, but Angel worked the clasp instead. Willow swept her hair up, exposing the curve of her neck.  He glided his fingertips over her smooth skin and the soft, downy hairs at the back of her neck as he put the necklace on her.

The gold chain of the necklace was cool, but not as cool as Angel's fingers.  Willow shivered from the contact.  She let her hair fall, but Angel didn't remove his hands, they rested lightly on her neck.  Willow touched the blackened heart nestled between her breasts.  It belonged there just as Angel's hands belonged on her body.  In the mirror above the bar, she could see her reflection and the others', only Spike and Angel were missing.  Oh, Goddess, she was going to kiss him.  She was going to turn her head and kiss him in front of everybody.  It would break the rules, they weren't alone, it wasn't his apartment, and it wasn't the aftermath of an intense battle.  Willow turned her head and her green eyes met his chocolate gaze.  He was going to kiss her too.

Finally, it was happening.  Willow and Angel were about to have a very public display of affection, one that they couldn't run and hide away from.  Cordelia held her breath to keep from squealing with glee and breaking the mood.  Angel's head bent closer to Willow's, only to have both of them pull away at the sound of someone knocking on the door to the club.  Lorne's hand clamping over her mouth was the only thing that kept her from cursing.

"Well, I wonder who's knocking on my door at this time of night?" Lorne released Cordelia and moved to the front door.  "If it's a lost soul looking to hit a high note and get some answers, I'll turn them away. This is your night, Firebird, get back to what you were doing."

"Thanks, Lorne." Willow blushed and stepped away from Angel.  She hurried to the door and made it there before Lorne did.  "But, it's probably Tara.  She said she would be in the city tonight and I emailed her that we would be here."

At the mention of Willow's ex-girlfriend, Angel tensed.  They had been so close to moving onto another level of their relationship - one without rules and one where Willow would fall in love with him again. Tara wanted her back.  He knew this with a cold certainty.  Why else would she be in L. A.?  If only they had kissed, then he and Willow would have had a public claim to each other and Tara wouldn't have been a threat.

Why couldn't Tara have waited one more minute?  Then she would have interrupted her and Angel in the middle of a kiss.  Willow wanted to see Tara again, she really did, but as a friend.  She hoped that her ex-girlfriend didn't want to renew their romantic relationship, because it would ruin their friendship.  She loved Angel.  Willow opened the door.

"Tara, it's so good to see you." Willow smiled, but it slowly faded as she took in the other girl's appearance.  She was so pale, dark circles ringed her eyes, and her hair was stringy and limp.  "Tara, are you okay?" Tara's lips trembled and Willow instinctively reached out to her.  Tara's mouth opened and a quiet gasp escaped her lips.  A thin line of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.  Willow looked down in time to see the tip of a sword disappear from just below Tara's breastbone as it was withdrawn from her body.  Tara pitched forward into Willow's arms.

This wasn't happening.  She refused to accept that this was happening. Willow looked up from Tara's crumpled body in her arms.  Standing in the doorway was a vaguely familiar blonde woman, a young dark haired man, and Casimir.

"What's the matter?" The blonde grinned wickedly.  She ran a finger over the blade of the sword in her hand, gathering the blood and then licking it off.  "Don't you like your birthday present?"

The sound of Darla's voice had an immediate effect on Angel and Spike. They both growled and shifted into their vampire faces.  Darla sidled past a frozen Willow still cradling her fallen lover.  Lorne pulled her back against him.  A listless Lindsey and smug Casimir followed her into the room.

"Darla, I told you I would have to kill you if I saw you again." Angel stepped forward.

"Down, boy." Darla casually flicked the sword in Willow's direction. "We're just here to talk."

"You've already done more than talk." Angel weighed his options.  Gunn had his back, as did Wesley, Giles, Faith, and Spike.  Lindsey didn't look like much of a threat, he looked like a zombie.  Lorne had Willow, but there was little he could do against Darla.  And, despite their numbers, there was no way he or any of the others could reach Willow before Darla did some damage with that sword.  Angel snarled as his gaze fell on Casimir.  This was his fault.  He had tracked down Darla and had brought her here to kill Willow.

Darla giggled.  "I don't think my boy likes you, Gypsy."

"I'm not your boy."

"No, you're not.  You're hers." Darla smiled at Willow.  Angel's mouth went dry.  "But, I don't mind." With the speed of a striking Cobra, she threw the sword at Willow.  It embedded itself deep into Willow's thigh.  "I hear she makes a hell of a vampire."

"Willow!" Angel lunged towards Willow as Lorne lowered her carefully to the floor.  She refused to let go of Tara's body, which made guiding her difficult.  "Cordelia, get some towels."  Angel's hand hovered over the weapon until Cordelia brought some towels from the bar.  In one motion, he removed the sword and used the towels to staunch the flow of blood until the healing spell kicked in and the wound started to heal.

No one noticed when Darla and the two men left.

"Willow." Angel touched her cheek.  She looked up at him with staring, blank eyes.  He hadn't seen that look on a woman's face since just before he had turned Drusilla.
 

Part Four

Oddly, Willow wasn't thinking of Tara as she stared blankly at Angel's bedroom ceiling.  She could hear the worried murmurs of her friends, but she couldn't bring herself to respond.  Tara was dead because of her, but she was too numb to feel guilty.  It wasn't Tara and her death that her mind dwelled on while she was locked within herself.  It was Buffy.

On what was her last day in Sunnydale, Willow spent the morning at the cemetery.  She liked the cemetery, it was where her best friends were
and there was never anyone around unless there was a funeral.  No tall, dark haired men she could mistake for Angel.  It was bad enough that her nights were plagued with highly erotic and frustrating dreams of Angel, but she also had to see him in complete strangers.  She missed him so much.  His taste, his touch, his voice, his arms around her holding her close.

"Then why aren't you with him?" Buffy's voice interrupted Willow's wistful thoughts.

"Buffy!" Willow hastily wiped at her tears.  "I thought you were gone. I haven't seen you since...well, it's been a while."

"Yes, well, I was about to 'go into the light' when I realized that my best friend was being a stubborn ass.  Why aren't you in L. A. with Angel?"

"He doesn't want me." Willow shook her head.  "You know what I did to him.  I debased him, made him agree to hurt and kill his friends and innocent people and then I took away the one thing he's always wanted and had worked so hard for - his humanity - because I couldn't handle the demon.  If I could have controlled it, we could have found a spell that expelled it from my body and sent it to Hell where it belongs and Angel could be human."

"The only thing Angel wants is you."  Buffy looked at Willow sadly. "And you don't have much of a choice.  You can feel it already - the geis is compelling you to go to Angel.  You'll end up together eventually, Willow, and my last official advice as your best friend is to tell you to tell him that you love him.  You're stronger together than you are apart and you are going to need each together."  Then Buffy faded away and that was the last time Willow saw her except in her memories.  She hoped her friends were at peace.

"Angel." Willow's voice stopped Angel's whispered conversation with their friends.  Half of them wanted to hunt down Darla that very second and the other half wanted to rush Willow to a hospital, she had been catatonic for almost twelve hours and Angel's nerves were frayed.  He was trying to convince everyone to just calm down and wait for him to have a chance to think clearly.  Actually what he wanted to do was tell them to leave.  He needed time to think and to hold Willow.  Then he heard her voice.  Angel turned to see Willow sitting up on his bed.  He crossed quickly over to her.

"Saileach.  Ioniun." Angel caressed her face.  She was looking at him. The vacancy in her eyes was gone.  "Are you okay?  I'm so sorry about Tara.  Darla will pay for killing her.  I won't let her hurt you again. I wasn't expecting...."

Willow placed a finger over his lips to stop the torrent of words.  She needed to tell him something she should have said the moment she arrived in Los Angeles.  "Angel, I love you."

For a moment, Angel was stunned speechless.  Willow didn't look like she was still in shock, she knew what she was saying.   "I love you, Saileach." Angel swallowed hard and hugged Willow to him.  He closed his eyes as he felt her arms slip around his waist to return his embrace.  She was so precious to him.  He didn't know what it was that had prompted Willow to say the words - the geis, the grief over Tara's death, the danger of Casimir and Darla - but he didn't care.  Angel would take Willow's love any way he could get it and return it full force.

It was with a mixture of relief, joy, and a tinge of guilt that Willow clung to Angel.  He didn't have to say it back.  Maybe it was the geis, or he felt sorry for her because of Tara's death, or it could be because of Darla and Casimir's return.  Willow didn't care.  Angel said he loved her and right now, she really needed to believe it.  "We have to be together.  We can't fight them if we're apart," Willow whispered against his neck.

"Nothing is going to come between us.  I won't let that bastard Gypsy or my damn Sire hurt you again," Angel vowed and clutched her tighter.

Loathe to interrupt his friends while they were finally sorting out their relationship for the better, Wesley reluctantly stepped forward. "Angel, now that we know who we are dealing with in the ritual killings, I believe that we should focus our efforts on finding where Darla and the two men are staying."

"Lindsey was with them, maybe we should check in with Wolfram and Hart. They have been pretty quiet lately." Cordelia shivered as she thought
about how Lindsey had looked.  The lawyer had never been one of her favorite people, what with the way he sat on the fence of good and evil, but now he didn't even look alive.  He had looked like a shell, a hollow person with no soul or demon to give him life.

"And a chick like Darla doesn't lay low well.  Me and the boys will go out once the sun sets and rough some info out of the local vamps and demons."

"I'll go with you," Spike invited himself to Gunn's hunting party.  At Angel's less than pleased look, Spike smirked.  "You didn't think I would leave town with that bitch after my favorite red head did you, Peaches?"

"I suppose you'll want to stay here too," Angel replied mildly.  Willow loved him, Spike wasn't a threat to her affections and he might actually be an asset in this war Darla had declared.  Spike would be the only one who could adequately protect Willow from Darla if Angel was out of commission.

"You can take any room you want on the third floor," Willow offered. Angel still held her in his arms and she leaned on him wearily.  The night had been exhausting and spending most of the morning in a catatonic state hadn't given her any rest either.  Willow had a sinking feeling that she had inherited Buffy's bad luck birthdays.

"Thanks, Pet.  Let's get settled, Anya." Spike led his uncharacteristically quiet girlfriend out of the room.

"I wish we could stay, Willow," Giles reached out and squeezed Willow's hand comfortingly.

"The Hellmouth needs you two." Willow nodded in understanding.

"Fuck the Hellmouth!  You need us." Faith glared at Giles.  For too long she had been without friends and she knew what it felt like to be abandoned when you were in danger.  Her dead watcher had taught that lesson well.  "We're not leaving."

"Faith, the Watcher's Council is - if you'll excuse the term - watching us both very closely.  If they think that we are being remiss in our duties then they will have your parole revoked and I could be deported."

"Giles is right." Angel understood Faith's protests.  He definitely would not be leaving Willow's side until Darla and Casimir were in Hell where he knew they belonged.  He rubbed Willow's back in gentle concentric circles, reassuring himself and hopefully her too.  "You have to go back and protect the Hellmouth.  Sunnydale is close enough that we can call when we need you."

"Right now it'll just be research and trying to find out what Casimir and Darla are up to - besides making our lives miserable." Willow shrugged.  She stood up and left Angel's embrace to give Faith a hug and then Giles.  "I'll be fine and like Angel said, we'll call when we need you."

"Okay." Some of the fear left Faith.  She wasn't going to lose Willow. Her friendship was her salvation.  If Willow could forgive her then maybe she could forgive herself someday.  "As long as you call when things start to go down."

"We promise," Cordelia cut in.  She was tired - they were all tired - and Willow and Angel needed to be alone now that they had finally admitted their feelings for each other.  She would have to remember to be ecstatic and annoyingly smug when she was less exhausted and emotionally traumatized.  "Now it's time for all of us to leave. Angel, Willow - Wesley, Gunn, and I will be back around seven." Cordelia ushered everyone out.

"Bye, guys." Willow closed their bedroom door behind their friends. She went back to the bed and crawled into Angel's lap.  It would be nice to sit here and cuddle for the rest of the day, but they didn't have time for that.  Casimir hated them and Darla wanted Angelus back. They were too dangerous to ignore even for a few moments.  "Why did Wesley say that Darla and Casimir were responsible for the ritual killings we've been investigating?"

Angel shifted and hugged Willow closer.  "There wasn't a lot of blood when Darla stabbed Tara.  Wesley took a closer look at her body and she had some of the symbols carved into her that the other young witches had.  She was also pretty well drained of most of her blood by a vampire - Darla."

"Poor Tara." Willow buried her face in Angel's chest and sobbed.  "They hurt her because of me."

"They hurt her because she was a witch.  The fact that you loved her was a bonus."  Angel stroked her hair.  His jealousy over Willow's love for Tara was gone.  Willow was a loving creature and he never wanted to take that away from her.  He laid back onto the bed, taking her with him.  "She's still at Lorne's.  We didn't know what to do....what you wanted to do.  Does she have any family?"

"Her father and brother disowned her when she stayed in Sunnydale with me."  Willow wiped away the tears, another indulgence she couldn't afford with the current threat to her friends.  "She was in a relationship, but when we talked she said that it was over.  I'll have to look at the body...."

"No."

"Yes.  I have to see her.  I'll seal the wounds and institute a glamor spell that'll make the coroner think she died of natural causes.  We can't have the police investigating this along with the other murders. They would start investigating us." Willow sighed.  "He's doing it again, only this time he's not using sex to steal a bit of their magic. He's draining it out of them using their blood, their death.  Do you think he's directing the elemental demons?"

"Probably.  They are keeping us busy.  I just can't figure out why he and Darla are working together.  They can't possibly want the same thing and there's no way they trust each other." Angel grimaced. Having Darla in town was making him sick with worry.  She was too possessive, she had always wanted to be the center of his world. Despite her intimation that she would turn Willow, Angel knew that wouldn't last very long.  He couldn't count the times that he had stopped Darla from staking Dru back before Spike was turned.  And Drusilla had only been a plaything, she had never had the hold on his heart that Willow did.

"The Kalendash wanted me to take your soul away from you."  Willow drew random patterns with her finger across Angel's chest.  "Darla wants that too, but I can't see the clan condoning the murder of witches." Of its own accord, the pattern Willow's finger was tracing became a heart.  Over and over, she lightly caressed the symbol into hard pectoral muscles.  "I won't let it happen, Angel."

"I know." Angel tipped Willow's face up and leaned down to caress her lips with his.  "My soul belongs to you." He caught the heavy heart pendant that hung around her neck.  "As does my heart.  Always."

"Well, it's only fair." Willow laced her fingers between his, capturing the heart within their palms.  "Since you have mine."  She settled her head back onto Angel's chest.  No other words were said, they fell asleep with their hands still clasped.  The tarnished heart trembled in it's flesh cocoon.  Unheard by the sleeping lovers, a haunting song rang from charm.  Twilight had fallen.

The warehouse was large and empty.  The expanse of open floor left no place for someone to hide.  Methos sat on a metal folding chair that had set out in the middle of the room in obvious anticipation of his arrival.  He had left his hotel room ridiculously early and had managed to lose MacLeod eventually.  Now all he had to do was wait. Luckily, the years teach you patience if not much else.

The sharp click of heels on concrete behind him alerted the oldest Immortal to the approach of at least two females and the dull slap of more comfortable shoes told him that the women weren't alone.  Methos turned to greet his hosts and immediately his demeanor changed to one decidedly more deadly.  "Cassandra."  Guilt quelled his first impulse to separate the female Immortal's brunette tressed head from her lovely round shoulders.  Damn, MacLeod!  It was his fault that Methos felt anything for her beyond a slight niggling regret.  So what if he and his three compatriots had slaughtered her tribe and enslaved her?  That was over three thousand years ago!  His death in the twenty-first century wouldn't change what had happened.

"Adam Pierson, or may I call you Methos?" The other woman spoke first. She was a lawyer.  Her career choice was evident in the way her hair was styled in an efficient and attractive manner, in her no-nonsense navy blue suit that still managed to find and cling to pleasing curves, and in the low-heeled pumps.  "I'm Lilah Morgan, an associate at Wolfram and Hart.  Your old friend Cassandra has told me a lot about you."

"You aren't going to sue me, are you?" Methos relaxed against the cool metal back of his chair.  Cassandra had yet to look at him or anything for that matter.  She stood in rigid silence.  She was still beautiful as hell.  Tall and slender, she still favored long hair and old fashioned long-skirted dresses.  "Because I think that the statute of limitations is up."

"Of course not." Lilah laughed and pushed a few stray strands of hair back into place.  She hadn't expected the legendary Methos to be so attractive.  To hear Cassandra talk, he was a monster.  In the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse, he was known as Death.  Lilah didn't know what the other woman's problem was, she wouldn't have minded being his slave.  "I apologize for the strong arm tactics used to set up this meeting, but you are an elusive man."

"It keeps me alive."

"You lied," Cassandra hissed, speaking for the first time.  Her whole body trembled in her flowing green gown.  Her wavy hair danced wildly around her delicate features as her gaze spit from Methos to Lilah. "You promised to kill him."

"Now why would I kill him when I have a proposition for him?"  Actually now that she had met him, Lilah had more than one.

Who was this woman?  The two suited Goliaths on either side of her gave her a measure of importance.  Someone wanted her back watched or maybe they just wanted her watched.  As much as Lilah the lawyer intrigued him, Cassandra puzzled him.  Why was she relying on these people for
his death when she was perfectly capable of managing that on her own. Methos highly doubted that she was afraid of challenging him.  "What if
I would rather kill you than hear this proposition?"  The tip of his sword pressed into the soft skin just under Lilah's chin, but it didn't puncture it.

The speed and deadliness of the Immortal was amazing.  Lilah licked her lips.  He was the man for the job.  He was also the man for her.  For a while she had entertained the thought of taking Angel as her lover, but his preachy attitude annoyed her.  Lindsey had been in the running until he had become her rival at Wolfram and Hart and then he had just given up and disappeared.  She wasn't stupid or crazy enough to want Angelus.  But Methos was perfect.  Dangerous, but tameable, and without any pesky guilt complexes.  She would have said something suggestive at the moment to let him know of her interest, but if she moved she would have a nasty scar.

Oh, God, the woman wanted him.  Methos would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't in a killing state of mind.  Man or woman, in the time before Christ of after, that gleam was unmistakable.  Maybe he should kill her and her bodyguards, if she was turned on by the things Cassandra must have told her then this proposition wasn't an invitation to be the new scoutmaster for the local chapter of the boy scouts.

A weird movement in his peripheral vision caught Methos' attention and he alleviated the pressure of his sword on Lilah's skin.  He could have sworn that the guards had shifted without moving.  He had seen a curious ripple from the corner of his eye.  Methos turned his head. The guard to Lilah's right now had horns and blood red skin.  The guard to the left, behind Cassandra, was blue with tusk protruding from its cheeks and spikes covering his hands.  They weren't human.  Now Methos understood Cassandra's behavior.  She wasn't trembling with rage.  She wasn't rigid with indignation.  Cassandra was afraid.  And for the first time in over four thousand years, so was Methos.

*****

Fate was a fickle phenomenon.  It wanted you to stay out of its business, but still it taunted you - tempted you to interfere.  Lorne glared at the yellowed parchment scroll tied with what looked like an old piece of string, but was more likely dried up cat gut.  In all of the demon karaoke bars in all the world, why did that scroll-bearing Loch-Ma have to bang on his door at an ungodly early hour and demand to sing in his?  Now he had the actual prophecy of myth and twilight in his hands.

"Like I'm not going to give it to them!" Lorne shook his head and picked up the scroll.  He headed to the door.  "Jake," he yelled at his bartender as he left. "We're opening late tonight.  I'll be back before the natives get too restless."
 

Part Five

Peace.  It softened the planes of Angel's face as he slept soundly. Willow propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at her love. It was wonderful to wake up in his arms and not feel guilty and ashamed.  Angel wanted her here with him and it was where she wanted to be.  She smiled down at him as his eyes blinked open and he smiled back at her sleepily.

"What time is it?" Angel brought Willow's hand to his lips and kissed it.  The necklace that was still trapped between their palms gave a muffled jingle and the chain pulled at her neck.  He released the pendant, but kept her fingers laced with his.

"The sun will set in about an hour." Willow couldn't help herself, Angel looked so cute and cuddly and sleep rumpled, she leaned down and kissed him.  Angel tightened his hold on her and pulled her down on top of his chest to deepen the kiss.  She would have given anything - anything, except the lives of her friends - to be able to never leave his embrace, but she broke away.  "I have to go see Tara now.  I'm sure that Wolfram and Hart have already tipped off the police about her death and have pointed our way."

"It can wait until the sun goes down and I can go with you."  Angel let go of Willow's hand as she slipped out of their bed.  He sat up.

It probably could have waited.  Once she put the natural death glamor on Tara's body then any claims Wolfram and Hart had made about a wrongful death would be put to rest.  They would still have to deal with an initial police investigation though, but she wasn't worried about that - they had been questioned by the police before and it would hardly be the last time.  What was worrying her was her other reason why she needed to go alone.  She hoped that Angel understood. "I need to say good-bye and I have to tell her I'm sorry for what happened to her.  I'm sorry that our relationship didn't work out because I didn't love her enough or the way she needed me to.  I didn't get a chance to say any of that and I need to."

"Okay." Angel left their bed as well since it looked like Willow wouldn't be rejoining him.  He didn't begrudge her a last good-bye with an ex-lover, he just didn't want her out of his sight.  But that was his problem and he didn't want to burden Willow with it, she had enough to deal with right now.  Her apprehension was evident in the way she chewed on her lower lip as she rifled through his closet for her extra clothes that she kept at his place.  She needed to be distracted, if only for the moment.  Angel closed his arms around Willow's waist and pulled her back against him to nuzzle her neck.  "When you get back from taking care of Tara, we'll move all of your stuff from Cordelia's apartment."

"I'm sure Cordy will love having the place and Dennis to herself again and I'm going to love living here with you.  Although I am going to miss Dennis' coffee." Willow finally settled on a simple black t-shirt and jeans. She let herself relax against Angel for a bit.  "I might even miss Cordy."

"Well, you won't have to miss her right away and Cordelia is going to have to wait until this thing with Darla and the gypsy is over before she starts enjoying her space, because she's staying here as planned. I wouldn't put it past them to use one of us as bait for the rest." Angel sighed and released Willow when she moved out of his arms to face him.  "Maybe I'll suggest to Wesley and Gunn that they bunk here to for a while."

Willow raised an eyebrow.  "How progressive of you, Angel, branching out into saving...what is the term for male damsel?  Sirsel?"  Willow giggled as she finished teasing Angel.  She swatted him with her t-shirt.  "I'm going to take a quick shower before I head out."

"That sounds distressing, may I be of service, fair damsel?" Angel leered, looking up and down Willow's body while running his tongue over his lips suggestively.

"I said 'a quick shower' so...no, you can't join me." Willow gave him a wink and ducked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly.

Briefly, Angel considered following Willow anyway.  The desire hit even harder when he heard the water turn on and an image of the warm spray
sliding down her soft skin entered his mind.  "Angel!" Angel was reaching for the doorknob to the bathroom when Cordelia's yell stopped him. "Lorne is here to see you."  The Host of Caritas would not leave the club this close to opening time, so it had to be important.  Angel left Willow to her shower and went downstairs, attempting to make himself more presentable by ironing out the wrinkles in his clothes with his hands.

"Hey, Lorne, what's the problem?  Did Darla and her entourage show up again?" Just the thought of his Sire and her destructive, murderous boytoys made Angel snarl.

"Easy, Growly-bear, I haven't seen the crazy chick since she crashed Witchypoo's birthday bash.  I just came by to drop off a little reading material." Lorne set the scroll down on the front desk.  Leaving right away probably wouldn't be wise.  Angel and Cordelia weren't stupid and they would just track him down and demand answers.  They knew where he lived.

"What is this?" Cordelia picked it up.  She picked at the knot in the 'string' that kept it rolled up.  "Is this an invitation?  Are you having a theme party?"

"That ain't a party invite, Dollface, and you're going to want to wash your hands.  That's dried cat gut you're picking at." Lorne waited as Cordelia shrieked and ran for the kitchen before continuing.  "A scroll bearing Loch-Ma wandered in with questions about his wife's fidelity and this scroll was screaming your name louder than she was the mailman's.  Thought I would do you a favor and bring it over."

"Thanks, Lorne." Angel bent and picked up the scroll from the floor where Cordelia had dropped it.  Lorne seemed nervous, his horns were so red they practically glowed and he kept tugging at his shirt collar. It was unlike the laid-back demon.  "We'll have a look at it.  Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question.  He had a boatload to tell Angel and his crew, but he couldn't - it wasn't his place.  This prophecy was meant to be - no matter what its outcome.  "No.  Anything you need to know?"

"As a matter of fact, I do have a question.  How come Darla was able to injure Willow at Caritas?  It shouldn't have been possible with the no violence spell."  The paling of Lorne's green skin and the distress in his red eyes gave Angel his answer.  Lorne had no idea how Darla got around the spell.  Angel hadn't really suspected his friend of conspiring with Darla - especially against Willow, Lorne adored her - but it had been a possible answer to his question and he had to pursue it.  Now he could dismiss it.

"Casimir has stolen a lot of supernatural power from the witches they've killed.  He probably cast a spell to briefly neutralize the Sanctuary enchantment on Caritas."  Willow provided the most plausible answer to Angel's question.  She walked the rest of the way down the stairs and went over to stand beside Angel, slipping her arm around him.

"I'll speak to the Furies and find out what happened, but now I have to get back to the club." Lorne didn't begrudge Angel his suspicions. If he had someone like Willow for a mate and she was being threatened, he wouldn't have left any stone unturned either.

"Lorne, wait." Willow reached out and touched his arm.  "Is, uh, Tara still at the club?"

"No, I had her moved to my supply warehouse." Lorne gave Willow a sympathetic look.  "I'm sorry about your friend, but it's good to see you up and non-catatonic."

"Thanks." Willow hugged Lorne.  "Where's the warehouse? I have to see Tara and fix up the wounds on her body.  We don't want her death to be
connected to the others."

"Of course not.  I can take you there on my way back." Lorne glanced at Angel to see if the protective vampire was okay with the plan.

"Be careful, Willow," Angel cautioned.  He retrieved Willow from Lorne and kissed her.  He ran his hand through her hair and kissed her again. "I can't lose you."

"You won't.  I doubt that they'll come after me again so soon, it would end the game too quickly." Willow held Angel's face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his.  "I'll be careful."  With a final parting brush of their lips, Willow left with Lorne.

*****

Stubborn, stupid ass!  Damn his ancient hide!  Duncan MacLeod stalked around the unfamiliar warehouse district of Los Angeles.  He had no idea where Methos was or who he was meeting.  He could be in trouble. MacLeod knew that in his own way Methos was protecting him.  Despite the fact that MacLeod was over four hundred years old and had seen a lot of evil in this world, the much older Immortal still tended to treat him like a naive child that needed to be sheltered from the harsher realities of life.  The harsh reality in this situation being the fact that Methos would most likely kill this person who had arranged the meeting if he or she truly did know too much - and he might not give that person a fair chance to fight back.

A dark colored sedan pulled up alongside MacLeod and he tensed.  He visibly relaxed when he saw his friend Joe Dawson sitting in the front seat.  Joe rolled down the window.  "Mac, I got a line on where Methos might be.  Get in."

MacLeod crossed to the other side of the car and got into the passenger seat.  "How did you find him?"

"I called the Watcher's Council in Paris and asked if there was any Immortal activity being reported in Los Angeles.  We may not have someone on Methos, but we do have people on other Immortals.  They said that Cassandra was here and her watcher had told them she was meeting with this law firm - Wolfram and Hart.  I looked them up and they got warehouses out here."  Joe watched the road as he drove.  Just ahead he spotted a long sleek limousine.  "There.  That looks like something a lawyer would ride in to the warehouse district."  Joe pulled over.  "Should we go in?"

"You stay here.  I'll check things out first."  MacLeod opened the door and left the car before Joe could grumble a protest.  He walked over to the limo and gave it the once over.  No chauffeur - he had to be inside with his employer.  MacLeod found a side door unlocked and he disappeared inside.

*****

"Why do the most mundane things in this business have to turn out to be gross?" Cordelia walked back from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a
paper towel, and found Angel holding the scroll.  It was still tied tightly.  "Aren't you going to open it up and read it?"

"I'm afraid to," Angel admitted.  He turned the scroll around in his hands.  Darla, the Gypsy, the elementals, and Wolfram and Hart - they were all coalescing into this big ball of trouble that was about to slam into them.  "Willow loves me and we're together.  We don't need another problem right now."

"Maybe it's an answer." Cordelia sat down beside Angel.  "Lorne wouldn't have brought it if we weren't supposed to have it."

Knowing that Cordelia was right and that he couldn't avoid it anyway, Angel untied the string and rolled out the scroll.  it was written in Latin.  "It's a legend about a young woman's love affair with death."

"What?  Did she take up bungee jumping or something?  I didn't think they had extreme sports in the middle ages.  This scroll is from the middle ages, right?"  Cordelia looked over Angel's shoulder at the scroll, but since she couldn't read Latin, she was just going to have to take Angel's word about what it said.

"It's older than that.  She was in love with a demon and the people of her village sentenced her to die.  They thought it would purge the evil from their land, but they were wrong because the village was wiped out.  They all died."  Angel read the translation out loud for Cordelia's benefit.  "In a land made of myth and legend, a young woman risked her immortality for the love of a demon.  Caught and condemned by her family and ones she called 'friend,' she stood - hair of fire pale skin kissed by the moon - chained to a stake in the village square awaiting her fate."

"Wow, whoever wrote this had a major problem with melodrama - even worse than yours," Cordelia interrupted with a comment she couldn't keep to herself.  She just grinned at the glare Angel threw her way.

"I'm not melodramatic.  I'm...intense," Angel corrected his Seer.  He held her gaze until she shook her head and muttered a 'fine' before continuing the story.  "A simple gold heart hung from her neck and it glowed at the approach of her demon lover.  He emerged from a cloak of darkness as a flashing silver sword whistled through the air and her pretty, delicate neck.  Devastated, her lover rushed her brother, the man who held the sword, and met only the blade - thrust straight through his heart.  The demon stumbled back into the body of his one true love and fell, catching the chain holding the heart and breaking it.  He died att her feet.  The heart fell, landing in the mingled blood of their unfortunate love.  A week later, a passing merchant found the village deserted, the sandy streets stained red.  Only the heart, tarnished by blood, remained in the village square."  Angel stopped reading.  The rest had been added by a different hand and was written in Gaelic.  Almost like it was meant for him to read.  "From
this story, the prophecy of myth and twilight was born."

"Well? What's the prophecy?" Cordelia demanded.  She didn't understand why Angel had stopped reading or why he looked so scared.  It must be
terrible if it scared Angel.

"Where did you get the necklace 'I' gave Willow for her birthday? Angel asked his own question instead of answering Cordelia's.  He was getting a very bad feeling about this prophecy.  It twisted in his gut and made him nauseous.  "Why did you buy it?"

"Actually, it was in a magic shop.  Willow needed some of her stinky magic herbs and while she was talking to the clerk, I picked it up and paid for it when she went into the back.  It glowed when she walked by....Oh, my God!  It's the same heart, isn't it?"

"In the age of twilight/The ancient Myth shall meet/Evil defeated by Light/Sacrificed by Dark/To protect the Child who is the One/The Tarnished Heart shall unite," Angel quoted the prophecy as Cordelia's answer.  He stood up.  The sun was minutes away from setting, but he couldn't wait.  "I have to find Willow."

"I'll drive." Cordelia stood up too and they headed toward the back entrance where the car was parked in a covered driveway.

*****

The warehouse was cool and stacked with boxes of liquor and other supplies for Caritas.  Way in the back, Willow found Tara's body laying on a table covered with a blanket.  She was going to have to thank Lorne for that, she knew it was silly, but she was glad that Tara wouldn't be cold.  Willow reached out and stroked a strand of Tara's hair. It was greasy and dirty.  She wished that she could clean Tara up, but that would be too suspicious - glamor or not.

"I wish this hadn't happened to you, Tara." Willow dragged a large crate over to the table and sat down on it.  "When I got your email saying you were coming to visit, I thought about some things I wanted to say to you.  I love you, Tara, but I'm sorry it's not the way you wanted me to.  I never meant to hurt you."  Willow leaned over and pressed a kiss to Tara's forehead.  She straightened and dug into her small canvas bag slung over her shoulder.  She brought out some crushed herbs mixed in oil.  Carefully, she undid Tara's blouse and anointed her wounds with the herb oil.  She returned the vial to her bag and held her hands over the body, palms down.  "Goddess Airmid, regenerator of the dead, to you I supplicate.  Heal the wounds of your child's flesh.  Return her body to its natural state.  This is my humble plea. This is my will, so mote it be."

A glowing orange light circled a halo around Tara's head and slowly it spread down her body.  As it passed over, the bruises and puncture wounds on the side of her neck, the sword wound under her breastbone, and the symbols carved into her breast, abdomen, and heels - they all disappeared.  When it was over, Willow buttoned up Tara's blouse.  She pressed her palm to Tara's forehead.  "For those who look, let them see a death from malnutrition.  This is my will, so shall it be." Willow watched as the fat beneath Tara's skin disappeared and her skin hung on her bones which she knew had become brittle.  She couldn't break down, not yet, there was still a few more details that had to be taken care of and then she could get back to Angel.  Centering herself to use her magic once again, Willow methodically mended the clean rips in Tara's shirt made by the sword and simultaneously unraveled the material at the cuffs of her sleeves and the hem, making the shirt look tattered and worn.

This was exhausting Willow both physically and emotionally.  The overwhelming urge to go back home, crawl into ben and Angel's arms and cry until she felt better returned.  But she couldn't do that.  Willow stood up and picked up her former lover's body.  She whispered a cloak of invisibility spell and carried her out of Lorne's warehouse. She carried Tara as far as she could and then laid her down at a delivery entrance where she was sure to be found the next morning.  She would just be one more unfortunate runaway who had died from the lack of proper nutrients.  Willow wished that it could have been some other way - that she could claim Tara's body and give her a proper burial - but this was the only way she could protect her family.  Perhaps later she could claim her and give her the restful peace she deserved.  "I love you, Tara.  Good-bye."

Before she could change her mind, Willow walked quickly away from the body.  Tears gathered in her eyes and her lungs burned as she gulped in air in an effort to stave off the sobs.  She started to run until she collided with a large, hard body.  Willow looked up into the red face of a horned demon.

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