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~Part One~

Blood.  Dark red, glistening wet rivers flowed winding paths against a pitch black backdrop.  Echos of a thousand screams of pain whispered from far away.  Pleasure tingled through her.  Pleasure at the pain. The blood.  The death.

Willow woke up gasping for air.  She turned and buried her face in Angel's chest as he held her tightly, stroking her back and murmuring soothingly.  They had only been married for three and a half weeks and for the last week, Willow had been plagued by nightmares.  They came in different forms, but there was always three common elements.  Blood. Pain. Pleasure.  She could handle the blood.  She could even handle the pain.  What bothered her was the pleasure.  It bothered her that she could feel pleasure at another's pain, even if it was only a dream. Willow shivered.

"I'm so sorry, Willow." Angel whispered at her ear.  She could feel his agony through their link and his tears on her neck.  "I'm a bastard. I shouldn't have...I didn't think...I never wanted to hurt you, Ionuin."

"What do you mean hurt me?  They're just dreams, Angel."  Willow lifted her head.  She wiped the tears from his eyes, not fully understanding the depth of his guilt.  "They're just dreams, mo gra."

"No." Angel tore himself away from Willow's touch, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.  He didn't deserve her comfort, not after what he had done to her.  He was a fool to think that he had done enough, that he had redeemed himself enough to merit a life with Willow.  "I tainted you.  I burdened you with my darkness.  You're having these nightmares because of me.  It's my demon tormenting you through the link."

"No, Angel, this isn't your demon." Willow scrambled across the bed to sit beside her husband.  She knew that Angel would blame himself for her nightmares.  "I love you and marrying you was the best thing I've ever done.  I don't regret it, I never will.  You don't taint me, you make me a better person."  Willow punctuated her declarations with kisses on Angel's neck, shoulder, and collarbone.

"I highly doubt that.  These nightmares aren't coming from no where, Willow, if it's not my demon than what is it?"

"I, uh, I don't know.  I just know it's not you." Willow kissed Angel urgently.  She didn't want him to dwell on her stupid nightmares and brood over his possible role in their cause.  She also didn't want to tell him the origin of her nightmares just yet.  At first she had hoped they would go away if she ignored them, but they were getting worse. She had wanted their honeymoon to last longer, but she would settle for one more night.  Tomorrow she would deal with Angel's doubts about their relationship and come clean about the nightmares.

Angel kissed Willow back and gently laid them both back onto the bed. He wouldn't press her about the nightmares any more tonight.  In the
morning she would have to tell him what was happening and how he could help her.  He wasn't going to let anyone attack his wife even in her
dreams.

"Good afternoon, people.  Everyone ready to make money?" Cordelia breezed into the hotel lobby.  She set her latte and low fat muffin on her desk and picked up the mail.  Wesley sat in his office reading and Fred sat in one of the plush lobby chairs chewing her hair.  Gunn wasn't in yet, thank God.  They had went on their first official date a few days ago and things had been decidedly awkward between them ever since.  She should have known not to do the office romance thing. Thinking of romance, Cordelia cast a glance upwards.  "Do you think the lovebirds will come down today?"

"Probably not until later this afternoon," Wesley commented, but didn't look up from the paper.

"Wesley," Angel called as he came down the stairs.  Cordelia threw Wesley a 'were you ever wrong' look and went back to sorting the mail. "I need you to contact our snitches, see if there are any more psychic hackers working the area.  I'm taking Willow to see Lorne as soon as she wakes up."

"She had another nightmare?" Fred asked softly and shuddered.  She almost covered her ears as she remembered the screams that had rung out
through the hotel a week ago.  Fred had tried to live on her own, she really had, but she didn't feel safe out there alone.  She had been glad when Willow and Angel had asked her to move back into the hotel with them.  Willow had told her that she wasn't intruding at all.  It was big place and there was lots of room for Fred.  It was her home. "She's not screaming anymore."

"I know, but I can feel them and they're getting worse.  I need to know who's tormenting her like this, I can't stand it."  Angel rubbed a hand through his hair.  "It's hurting her and she's pulling away from me."

"Oh, no, Angel, she's not doing that.  She's just being Willow and trying to protect you."  As soon as Angel turned to her, Cordelia knew she had said too much.  She immediately stuck her nose back into the mail.  "Look, bills!  Someone should really pay these."

"You know what's going on.  She told you."  Hurt and sadness welled inside Angel.  Willow didn't trust him.  She had confided in Cordelia and not him.  It wasn't a psychic hacker attacking her, it was him. His demon was giving her nightmares and she couldn't admit it to him. Why else would she discuss her pain with Cordelia and not her husband? Because she didn't want him to feel guilty for something he obviously couldn't control.

"Angel!"  Willow yelled from the top of the stairs.  She rushed down, tying her robe closed.  Her wet hair dripped down, molding the satin to her body.  "Angel, are you okay?"  She had been in the shower when pain and despair had throbbed through the link.  She had hurried down as quickly as possible.  A quick visual survey told her that Angel was in one piece - at least physically.  The link told her that emotionally he was shattered.

"We have to go see Lorne."  Angel made an effort to pull himself together.  He had gotten used to feeling Willow through their link, but sometimes he forgot that his emotions were broadcast to her as well. The last thing he wanted was for her to worry about him, it was bad enough that the demon was using it against her.  Maybe he should shut it down for her own good.

"Don't think like that."  Willow's hand gripped his arm. His doubt dominated the link and for a moment, it flickered.  "I'm going to go upstairs and get dressed and then we'll take the sewers to Caritas. Don't you dare shut me out, Angel."

"Isn't that what you've done to me?" Angel asked quietly.  There was no reproach in his tone or his eyes, only a simple statement of fact.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.  I'm scared."  Willow kissed Angel's cheek and went back upstairs.

"She hasn't really told me anything, Angel," Cordelia volunteered. She hated to see her friends unhappy.  They had just gotten married, they should be deliriously happy without a care in the world.  "She just talked about how she was afraid that you would blame yourself for the nightmares and pull away from her.  She didn't tell me where they're coming from, but I got the impression that she knows."

"So did I.  You were right, she's protecting me."  It was going to stop though.  She wouldn't be able to hide anything from Lorne.

"Do you still want me to check out any psychic hackers?  We would also do well to look at Wolfram and Hart, I'm sure they've heard of Willow's
prowess as a witch and would consider her a threat," Wesley pointed out.

"If Lilah is behind this, she's dead," Angel vowed.  He had thought that he had made things clear when Lilah had tried to use Cordelia and her visions to get to him, but if she had instigated this attack on Willow than she obviously hadn't gotten his message.  Angel had zero tolerance for attacks on the people he loved.  Lilah Morgan may have made the biggest mistake of her life.

"What's this?" Lilah Morgan snapped at her assistant.  The wet-behind-the-ears toady took two steps back from her desk and cowered appropriately.  Lilah glowered at the young man as she held up the single sheet of paper.

"Th...that's the report on Lindsey MacDonald you asked for, Ma'am," her assistant stammered.

"And what exactly does this font of information tell me?" Lilah dropped the paper and let it drift to the floor.  She had had enough of her underlings' incompetence, it reflected badly upon her.  She didn't even have the luxury of believing that she was making Angel's life miserable.  He had married a rather powerful witch - that vampire bitch, Darla, had actually secured his soul - and had taken time out from his honeymoon to foul up her plan to use his Seer to make him do Wolfram and Hart's dirty work.  At least she had scored points with the senior partners when Angel had procured the release of their associate.

"It says they can't find him."

"Well, that is unacceptable.  I don't want another report until it tells me where Lindsey MacDonald is and what he is doing and I want it in three days."

"Yes, Ma'am." Her assistant nodded his head and walked quickly out of her office.

Lilah sat back in her chair and rubbed her temples.  She didn't know what the hell to do, finding Lindsey was her last card.  She was getting no where with Angel, he and his team were only getting stronger.  The only thing she had to offer the senior partners was Lindsey MacDonald, the traitor, on a silver platter.

Caritas was empty, as it should be since it was closed.  Angel and Willow sat at a table in the middle of the room.  Willow fidgeted nervously with the candle bowl in the middle of the table while Angel sat hunched in his duster, staring at his boots.  He was mad at her.

"I don't really have to sing, do I?"

"Yes, you do, that's how it works.  Lorne can't use his ability unless you sing."  Angel shot a sidelong glance at his wife.  He knew about her singing phobia and she looked terrified.  He took his hand out of his pocket and covered hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.  He smiled at her.  "It doesn't have to be opera."

"Do I have to go on stage?" Willow leaned forward and gave her husband puppy eyes.  She was relieved that he was talking to her and had
attempted a funny to ease her nerves.  He had hardly said a word the whole way to the club, instead reverting to his old broody persona.

"I think you can get away with staying where you are."

"Of course she can, we don't stand on ceremony here at Caritas - especially after closing time." Lorne swept into the room.  He set a mug before Willow, another before Angel, and kept a martini glass for himself.  "Here we are, O-neg for the hunky vamp, coffee for the beautiful witch, and a well-deserved green apple martini for moi.  And don't you worry, sweetheart, all you have to do is hum a few bars and old Red Eyes can tell you who's sending you these pesky nightmares."

"Hey, I had to sing 'Mandy' in front of everybody!" Angel protested. "You didn't say anything about being able to just hum."

"I know, but I really adore her.  Now hum me a tune as pretty as you are, Firebird."

"Okay, but I know who - or what - is doing this and I know why it's happening."  Willow glanced nervously at Angel and tightened her grip on his hand.  She didn't want him to think less of her.  "I didn't have time to do things properly.  Glory had sucked Tara's sanity right out of her brain, she was after Dawn, and Buffy couldn't fight her - at least she couldn't win.  I needed the ability to fight Glory and give Tara back her mind, but there was no time to learn and practice the proper magics."  Willow hung her head, she couldn't look at either Angel or Lorne while she made her confession.  She took a deep breath. "I used black magic.  I used it again when I resurrected Buffy.  I was hoping that the nightmares were the price I had to pay.  I mean, what's a few nightmares in return for saving the world from Glory and for my best friend's life?"

"They aren't going away.  They're getting worse."

Willow nodded at Angel, but she looked at Lorne.  His red eyes brimmed with sympathy.  "I need to know what they want from me in return for
using the dark arts."

"Well then, honey, I think you should start humming and we'll find out what kind of payment plan evil has put you on."  Lorne took Willow's hand, the one Angel wasn't clutching, and closed his eyes to center himself.  He needed to get a reading loud and clear.  This one was important.
 

~Part Two~

Judges, jurists, and executioners.  That was the general personality of the board meeting.  Actually it was more of an arraignment hearing to
determine the amount of her guilt - there was no such thing as innocence at Wolfram and Hart - in the lack of progress on the Angelus front.  Lilah sat at one end of the long oak table, the two seats to her left and the two to her right were unoccupied.  No one wanted to  sit that close to her, not a good sign.

"How are things going with Special Projects, Ms. Morgan?" a bland looking older man asked in a pleasant tone.  He was from upstairs and Lilah had never met him before.  She hadn't exactly wanted to get the attention of the men upstairs with her incompetence.

Lilah wasn't fooled by his affability.  She smiled confidently.  "Very well.  Billy is back with his family and I have people looking for Lindsey MacDonald.  The Ronaldson case was wrapped up without a hitch or any interference from Angel...."

"Yes, Angel," the man interrupted.  "He killed our best psychic hacker, because of you.  And the Ronaldson case aside, he, his wife, and his friends have ruined some of the plans of this law firm before we've had a chance to implement them.  Not to mention the fact that his soul is permanent making the chances of Angelus re-emerging almost nonexistent. I wouldn't categorized that as going well, let alone very well."

"Angel's soul is secure because of Darla.  She was Lindsey's project." Lilah fingered her black pearl necklace nervously.

"Lindsey isn't here, Ms. Morgan."

The meaning behind the words was crystal clear.  Lindsey wasn't here to pay for his fouled up plan, so she would.  Lilah merely nodded and stood up to leave the room.  The meeting was over and excuses would  only dig her hole deeper.

"Oh, he will be here," Lilah promised softly as she walked back to her office for a well deserved drink.  "I'll find you, you asshole, and you can face your own mistakes.  I'll be damned if they bite me in the ass."

The last trembling vibration of Willow's throat had sounded well over a minute ago and Lorne had yet to say anything.  His eyes were still  closed and he clutched Willow's hand as tightly as Angel held her other one.

"How bad is it?  Do I have to worry about waking up with snakes for hair and a tendency to turn people to stone?" Willow gave her voice an optimistic, heartening lilt that she hoped covered her fear and worry. Warm, fuzzy feelings surged through her from the link.  Of course, she couldn't hide anything from Angel and now she didn't want to ever again.  She smiled and squeezed his hand.  He was scared too.

Instead of coming up with some glib repartee, Lorne opened his eyes and looked somberly at the couple sitting across from him.  They were so cute together and they didn't deserve what was coming.  "They want your soul."

"They aren't getting it," Angel growled.  His eyes flashed yellow and the ridges formed on his forehead.  He pulled Willow back against him and held her in the shelter of his arms.  "Willow's soul is tied to mine through the link."

"Which is why they haven't just taken it, you have prior claim. Instead they've tried to get you to sever the link." Lorne sighed.  He hated dishing the bad news.  "Firebird is a white witch, it's the basis of her magic, but she's dabbled in the black so she's kind of on the fence right now.  What we're talking about here, people, is an epic battle for your soul."

"Now that they've failed to sever the link between us, they'll tempt me to use black magic again and if I do, I'll be bound to darkness. I read about this in one of Giles' old watcher diaries.  A Slayer,  Tatiana, went up against a white witch who had used black magic.  There wasn't a lot of detail, just a reference note to another diary.  I asked Giles about it and he said that Tatiana had written her own account of the battle in her diary and her watcher just referred to it rather than rewrite the whole thing."  Willow leaned back, resting her head on  Angel's shoulder.  "The witch had been a very powerful force for good - Tatiana almost died fighting her - if she gave up and turned to the other side, what chance do I have?"

"Don't sound so down, Sweetheart, there is an upside to this debacle. I don't know anything about this other witchy chick, but when you resist their challenge, you'll have free access to both magics which will make you a formidable figure in this apoplyptic battle everyone's so hopped up about."  Lorne winked at Willow and stood up.  He could use another drink and his friends needed some time alone.  "I'll be in back if you need me."

"we should get back to the Hyperion anyway."  Angel's face was still in vamp-mode, his agitation hadn't lessened.  "Wesley might be able to get
more information about this witch and how she was turned to black magic from the Watcher's Council."

"I could call Giles, he's moved back to England, maybe he can track down Tatiana's diary."  Willow smiled at Lorne.  She stood and hugged him.  "Thank you so much, Lorne."

A darker shade of green spread across Lorne's face and his horns reddened so much they practically glowed.  "Don't mention it, cupcake, what's a reader demon for?"

"Not just that." Willow hugged him tighter.  "Thank you for saying when I resist.  I know you can't see for sure whether I will or not and it's nice to know you think I will."

"What makes you think I can't see that?" Lorne frowned.  The truth was, that particular outcome did come across fuzzy.  He didn't know whether
or not she would resist the darkness that she owed.

"Because no one does, not even the PTB.  This one is up to me, it's my choice, and I have no idea what I'm going to do."  Willow gave Lorne a kiss on his cheek.  "At least I know someone besides my husband is confident that I'll do the right thing."

"Like I said, don't mention it.  Now, you better unclinch me or your yellow-eyed hubby is going to do his impression of a possessive neanderthal."  Lorne looked nervously over Willow's shoulder at Angel. He was a bit worried about how the big lug was going to handle this threat to his pretty wife.  He had just recently accepted and allowed himself to be happy, the thought of losing her could send him into a brooding fit he wouldn't come out of.  Either that or he would start tearing out the throats of anyone in his presence.

"It's not an impression, but I love him anyway."  Willow released Lorne and turned back to Angel.  "Let's go.  The sun will set soon and we might as well get on with our usual business until the dark side makes its next move.  Why do I suddenly feel like Luke Skywalker?"

"As long as you don't start dressing like him, you'll do fine.  The white bathrobe look is not you, Firebird.  I see you more in a silk number."

"No, you don't see her in anything like that at all."  Angel took Willow's hand and gave Lorne a warning snarl.  Willow looked ethereal in a silk robe, but he didn't want Lorne picturing it.  Willow elbowed him in the ribs and Angel remembered that Lorne was his friend and that he was helping them.  It wasn't Lorne's fault that he didn't like the news, that it scared him so badly he couldn't even keep a tight rein on his demon.  Angel tempered the anger and fear coursing through him and controlled his features into their human form.  "I'm sorry, Lorne. Thank you."

"Stop, you'll make me cry."  Lorne waved them off.  He escorted them to the sewer entrance to his club.  He pulled Angel back as he went to
follow Willow down into the dark tunnel.  "Take care of her, Angel, and no matter what, don't let her go.  Do not sever your connection to her."

The fear in the reader demon's eyes brought back Angel's dread and he had to fight to keep the demon down and from altering his face.  "Willow is mine.  Always and forever."  It was a guarantee made not only to Lorne, but to himself.  Willow was his wife until death do they part - preferably his death.  He wouldn't lose her to black magic. Angel dropped down into the sewer tunnel.

At the bottom, Willow was waiting for Angel.  She smiled and took his hand as they walked through the sewer tunnel toward the Hyperion.  He was upset again.  "What did Lorne say to you?"

"Nothing.  I just had to give him a friendly warning about imagining my wife in her nightclothes." Angel brought Willow's hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.  She worried about him when she should be concerned about herself.

"Angel," Willow gently admonished.  She sighed.  They needed to talk and a dark sewer tunnel was a good a place as any.  Willow stopped walking.  "Angel, I'm sorry I tried to keep this from you.  I didn't want you to know I had used the dark arts.  I didn't want you to know that I wasn't sorry.  I would do it again to save Buffy and Tara.  I didn't want you to think I was a terrible person."

"Ionuin." Angel's hands cupped her face.  "You've known me at my worst. You've read about and seen firsthand the darkness that lives inside of me.  Did you honestly believe that I would condemn you for what you did?  Especially when you did it for the people you love with no thought for the consequences to yourself.  This is one of the reasons why I love you."

"I love you."  Willow wrapped her arms around Angel's waist and snuggled into his chest.  "I am sorry about what this is going to do to you.  As long as our souls are connected, yours is in danger.  If I submit to their demands...."

"You won't."

"But, Angel, if I do then you have to promise me something."  Willow tipped her head up to look at her husband.  He had to do this for her. "You have to promise to break our connection...."

"No.  You're more than just my wife, Ionuin, you're a part of me...."

"Which is exactly why you have to do it!"  Willow clutched Angel's arms.  "Don't you understand?  If I become a dark sorceress that evil will invade our link and you.  It'll seep into your soul and...." Her lips trembled and her eyes shone in the dim light as tears spilled down her cheeks.  What would happen to Angel's beautiful soul because of her was a horrible thought - too terrible to verbalize.  "I knew I had used black magic.  I knew there would be consequences.  I shouldn't have involved you.  We never should have...." Willow's tirade of sobbed self-recriminations was halted by Angel's mouth.  His tongue swept through her mouth as if it could erase the words she had been about to say.  He pressed her back against the tunnel wall.

"Don't say it.  We belong together and my soul will be fine.  You'll resist, Willow, there's too much goodness in your soul for you not to. I know."  Angel kissed her face - her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her lips.  The last thing he wanted was for her to regret marrying him.

"I'm glad one of us does." Willow smiled.  The confidence in her  helped, but still this fear nagged at the back of her mind.  What if she disappointed them?  And dragged Angel down with her.  "But, Angel, we have to be practical and think of the worst case scenario.  If I'm turned to black magic than your soul won't be able to fight your demon and what would happen to our friends if we're both evil?  You have to break our connection if I start to turn evil and then you have to kill me."

Angel couldn't talk, he just kept shaking his head.  No, no, no.  It was bad enough that she was asking him to sever the link - it would be like cutting out his heart - but now she wanted him to kill her.  "I can't."

"You have to, Angel.  I can't be evil.  I've seen me evil and I can't be that." Willow played with the collar of Angel's shirt.  "If you can't do it, then you have to call Buffy.  Promise me, Angel, that you will break our link and make sure that I die."

This time Angel avoided answering Willow by pressing her even closer to the wall.  They were alone in the sewer, he couldn't sense anything else in the tunnel.  He pulled her shirt tails from her waistband and let his hands wander over the warm, soft expanse of her sides and stomach.  He nuzzled her neck.  Never.  He would never give her up.  He pushed up Willow's skirt.

It was an incredible effort, but Willow managed not to be dissuaded by Angel's amorous advances.  "Angel, promise me."  She wouldn't give in until he did.  She wouldn't.  She couldn't stand the thought of being the very thing she had spent a good part of her young life fighting. Even worse, she couldn't stand the thought of being the one thing that brought Angel down - the person who kept him from the redemption he deserved.

"I promise," Angel lied.  He knew Willow wouldn't give up until she had extracted his vow and now she had it.  He would do one thing she had requested - he would call Buffy if she was needed - but he had made a promise to Lorne first.  He was never letting Willow go.  If she died, so would he - whether they were evil or not.  Angel felt Willow unbuckle his belt and every thought except the ones that would pleasure them both left his mind.

The beast was horrible.  Large, glittering teeth glistened in the moonlight from its slathering mouth as it prowled the foggy graveyard. It laboriously approached two teenagers heavy into the foreplay stage of romance.  The girl gave a half-hearted protest when her boyfriend started to unbutton her blouse.  Once the thin garment was off and her perky breasts covered in only a lacy black bra were revealed, the beast pounced.

Buffy sighed as the girl in the row in front of her shrieked and clutched at her boyfriend, burrowing her head in his shoulder.  From the fervid glances her date was casting her way, Buffy knew that Brad was hoping for the same reaction from her.  Wasn't going to happen.  When you had spent the last seven years of your life patrolling cemeteries, staking vampires, slaying demons, and stopping the apocalypse, CGI just wasn't going to cut it.  Buffy offered Brad a weak smile instead.  He was a nice enough guy, he just wasn't the right guy.

It wasn't like Buffy hadn't tried to move on with her life.  This was her third date with Brad after all.  There was just something missing - a horrible aching void had opened up in her life.  Surprisingly, it wasn't Angel she was missing or the hope that someday they would be together.  It hurt that it was gone, but something else hurt more. Buffy missed Willow.  She missed talking to her best friend.  A prime example was this deadly boring date.  She wanted desperately to discuss Brad with Willow so they could analyze exactly why the boy did nothing for her.  Sure, she could call Willow in L. A. to talk, but that was easier said than done.  It hurt too much to think about Willow having everything that Buffy had ever wanted, but as much as she hurt, Buffy was also afraid. She was afraid that once she was confronted with Willow's actual happiness with Angel, she would do something to try to get it for herself and ruin any chance of a friendship with Willow.  No, she had to wait until she was sure she could handle Willow's happiness before she contacted her.

"Buffy." Brad nudged her arm.  "Buffy, it's over."

"Oh, yeah."  Buffy pulled on her jacket as she stood up.  She and Brad joined the throng of people leaving the theatre.

"Not your kind of movie, huh?" Brad touched the small of Buffy's back and gently guided her through the crowd.  It was a sweet gesture.  Brad was a sweet guy.  Why didn't she like him?  He didn't make her nervous or afraid or guilty about being with him.  In a way, he reminded her of Riley - except no cool undercover commando career - which was probably why this wasn't working.  It hadn't worked with Riley.

"No, monster movies aren't my thing.  I'm sorry, Brad."  She wasn't just apologizing for not liking the movie, she was sorry that she wasted his time.  Fortunately, Brad seemed to have picked up on the second subtle meaning for her apology, because he didn't bother to ask her out for another date when he dropped her off at home.  The urge to pick up the phone and call Willow was back and stronger than ever. Buffy frowned.  Maybe this was something more than just missing her friend, what if this was slayer-sense telling her that Willow was in trouble?  Buffy dialled phone, but hung it back up before the first ring sounded.  If there was trouble, than Angel would handle it.  She wasn't ready.  It was too soon.

Life was good.  Finally.  Quiet, but good.  Lindsey MacDonald leaned back in the chair that sat out in the middle of his backyard and contemplated the night sky.  He didn't miss Wolfram and Hart.  He didn't miss the expensive suits, the luxurious apartment, the expense account, or the fancy car.  He didn't miss evil.  At that thought, Lindsey felt a twinge in his transplanted hand.  Whether it was real or a phantom of his imagination, he wasn't sure, but it always happened when he thought about his old life.  Lindsey massaged it, although he knew it wasn't a muscle cramp that caused the ache.

The stars winked at him with a secret knowledge in their vastness.  He couldn't hide forever.  Wolfram and Hart wouldn't let him fade into an abyss of normalcy.  They would find him and he would pay the price for lending his soul to the devil or whoever was responsible for evil.  It was inevitable. It would happen.  But for now, he was just going to sit under the stars.  Life was good.

Lilah pushed her nose deeply into the crisp cotton sheets of the hotel's bed.  It wasn't the high quality she usually enjoyed when staying in a hotel, but this was a brief meeting that had to be out of the way.  The bed shifted as her clandestine lover left the bed.  He never stayed - wasn't a cuddler - which suited her just fine.

"Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.  I had a stressful day." Lilah sat up, draping the sheet to give strategic glimpses of her breasts.

Wesley barely spared Lilah a glance as he got dressed.  "I can imagine. Butchery is rarely restful," he answered in a clipped English accent.

"You hate me.  You hate everything I stand for.  Why exactly are you fucking me, Wesley?" She knew why she was fucking him - besides the fact that he was actually quite good - she was planning on dropping the bomb of their relationship just when it would destroy the Angel Investigation team's morale and trust in each other.  But she wondered at Wesley's motives.  He wasn't stupid, he must know her plan and he would also know that there was no way she would let him in on any inside information about Wolfram and Hart's activities.

"Perhaps it isn't you I'm fucking, but rather evil.  After battling it day in and day out, it's nice to know that I can have one of its minions on her back screaming my name."  Wesley picked his jacket up off the floor and opened the door.  "Do remember, Lilah, if I see you in any other context, I will try to kill you."

"Just as long as you remember that I will kill you."

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