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Part 14
"She almost killed my *Mate*," he growled, hands clenching tightly on the edge of the desk. "I can't just let that *slide*, Giles! That evil little *bitch* hurt *Willow*!" He'd never been so angry before; not even when the demon hadn't been tempered by the soul. "She has to *pay*," he grated out, eyes flashing gold.
Giles had no idea of what to say, because the vampire was right. Regardless of who the girl had intended to shoot, the fact of the matter was that she'd damaged Angel's woman, and he had a very good idea of what the vampire was feeling. He'd felt something similar when the un-souled version had killed his Jenny. Of course, he hadn't been connected to the gypsy the way Angel was to the redhead, but still. "I... I won't let you kill her, Angel," he finally said, wondering how in the hell he'd stop the man.
A loud roar flew from his lips, even as his full vampiric features slipped out. "Do you understand," he said, deliberately forcing himself to speak softly, "That that bitch could have robbed me of my Mate? Do you know what that means? She's a *part* of me. The *best* part of me. What do you think would be left if she died? And if Tara had succeeded, and *I'd* died? What do you think that would have done to Willow?" He narrowed his golden gaze when the other man's eyes widened in realization. "That's right, Giles. And I'm pretty sure she knew exactly what she was doing, too. I don't know why I still have my soul, with as happy as Willow makes me, but do you really think I wouldn't let Angelus out if she wasn't around any more? I *would*. And I wouldn't feel *bad* about it later, either." He shook his head, determination flooding through him. "No, Tara has to pay for what she did."
The Watcher sighed, running one hand through his hair. At least the others had left so he could talk to the vampire in private. "She's one of my group, now," he finally said, "I should be the one to punish her."
Angel shook his head angrily. "No. It's *my* Mate she hurt. Her punishment is *mine* to decide, and mine to administer." He sighed, himself, then. "I know that you don't understand this, Giles, but... Even with a soul, I can't just let it go. Hell, if I *wasn't* all soul-having, you'd *all* be dead by now, just for bringing her here! I'm trying to be reasonable, but the girl has to die." He would have continued, but the appearance of the smallish redhead walking through the office door froze his words.
"No," Willow said softly, moving slowly to her Mate's side. Her arm wrapped gently around his waist, and she smiled when he pulled her closer. One warm hand rose to stroke lightly at his brow ridges, and she kissed his chest softly through his shirt when he purred. "You're not the injured party here, love. *I* am." She shook her head when he would have spoken, and moved her fingers to his lips. "*I'm* the one she shot. It was *my* Mate she was aiming for. If anyone has the right to punish her, it's *me*."
He couldn't deny the truth of her words, but a part of him wanted to, none the less. The rest of him, however-- including the demon-- was curious. He parted his lips, licking slowly at her small, warm fingers, and smiled tenderly when he heard her heart beating faster. "What did you have in mind?" he asked breathlessly.
Giles was curious about that as well. This wasn't the same Willow he knew. He wondered if it was because of her connection to Angel's soul and demon, but sadly, he realized that it was equally possible that he'd never truly known the girl. "Yes," he added, "*What*, Willow?" He'd have to tread carefully now, he knew. The determined look in the girl's eyes was starting to concern him.
Her eyes closed for a moment, and she pulled her fingers from Angel's lips as she thought. "I don't want to kill her," she said seriously, "But I don't want her anywhere *near* us, ever again. Unfortunately, she has powers, so she could strike from a distance..." Her eyes opened again, and she watched her vampire from the corner of her eye as she continued to speak her thoughts out loud.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was times like this that made her wish she really *was* a demon like her father had said. But she wasn't, and she was all wrapped up in chains, and she *hated* it! Almost as much as she hated her fucking bitch of an ex, and the *vampire*!
She'd been sure that turning the bastard into a big pile of dust would bring Willow back to her, but now she realized she didn't even *want* the girl! No, she wouldn't take her back now; not even if she *begged*! Willow was *dirty*... *tainted*! She'd willingly gone to that demon-ridden prick Angel, and left her-- Tara-- all alone. What was worse was that she now knew that even while the redhead had been swearing her love to her, she'd really been thinking about that bastard! It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. And Willow would have to *pay*!
Her blue eyes glittered dangerously as the nearly complete darkness of the basement area was shattered by the door at the top of the stairs opening, and she hissed slightly when she saw the girl standing in the opening. "Fucking bitch!" she started, only to find herself unable to speak further.
"Silence!" Willow shouted, twisting her fingers just so. A harsh light burned in her eyes, and she stepped aside, allowing her Mate to descend the stairs.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lorne groaned again, pressing his sharply-clawed fingers to his eyes. It was bad enough that he'd apparently decided that Fred was a lovely girl. It was even worse that her voice was equally delightful. He couldn't even manage to get past it enough to hear whatever it was the Powers were trying to tell him! "This is so not fair," he murmured to himself, under the melodic tones of the physicist's voice. "It's not fair, and *Gods* know it's not *right*! Get a hold of yourself, man..."
The brunette smiled slightly, even as she continued to sing. There was a lot she didn't remember about the world she'd been absent from for the last five years, and there was a lot she *did* know from her time in Pylea. She knew how to tell when a man was interested, though... and she knew what Lorne's brand of demon looked like when *they* were. Oddly enough, the look on the reader-demon's face didn't bother her; not even when she noticed the slight reddish tinge at the tops of his ears. He was interested, all right, and... she thought maybe *she* was, too. But that wasn't why she was there, after all. No, she was there because of that *feeling* she'd had all day long. The one that told her something wasn't quite right. Her eyes widened slightly, and she stopped singing when she realized-- whatever she'd been sensing must have already happened, because the feeling was *gone*! "Oh..." she whispered, forgetting that she still held the microphone, "Oh, I hope they're all right..."
It was her echoing whisper that drew him from his thoughts. "What?" He dropped his hands and stared at the girl on the stage, his nostrils flaring in an effort to breathe more deeply. "You hope *who's* all right, sweetness?" His body relaxed just a bit when she slowly placed the mike in its stand. At least he wouldn't have to hear her sweet voice any more. It had been almost more than he could stand. "What's wrong?"
Fred shrugged quickly, moving down the steps and back to the table. She forced herself not to laugh when the green-skinned one leaned towards her before catching himself. "There was a wrongness before," she said, sitting, "It's gone now." She reached out, amazed at the feeling of power that flowed through her when his eyes locked on her hand, and she picked up his glass, taking the last sip of his cocktail. "Ha!" she cried suddenly, as the alcohol hit her empty stomach, "That's *good*! What *is* that? I want one!" An odd-sounding giggle sprung from her lips, and she released the glass, only to grab his hand. "I want one," she repeated, meeting his red eyes.
He laughed breathlessly, pulling his scaled fingers from hers, and stood, moving quickly to the bar. "Sweetness better be careful," he mumbled to himself, "Or she's gonna *get* one." He hurriedly mixed her drink, and one for himself. "This is a *really* bad idea," he told himself again, even as he returned to the table and handed her her cocktail.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"That's *it*?" Giles asked curiously, his eyes locked on the sobbing blonde on the lobby floor, "It's... really done?"
Willow nodded, sadness in her eyes. Not for her actions, but for the necessity. "It's done," she said quietly, staring at the rug beneath her feet, "Her powers are bound. She'll never be able to use them again unless she stops hating Angel." Her mood lightened just a bit when she felt her Mate's strong, cool arms circle her waist from behind, and she leaned back into his solid body. "It's unbreakable," she finished softly. "It's tied to her own emotions; not to anything outside. Even if she killed me, it wouldn't help her now."
He could feel the regret through their bond, as well as the slight trembling in her body, and he pulled her more tightly against him, leaning down to nuzzle gently behind her ear while he purred. His eyes softened when he felt her relax a bit more, and he nipped tenderly at her ear lobe. "You only did what you *had* to, baby," he said, just loudly enough for Giles to hear.
The Watcher nodded, although he wasn't sure that it wouldn't have been kinder to kill the girl. Still, he hadn't wanted her dead, and Willow's solution to the 'Tara problem' was probably the only way Angel would have let the girl live. "Yes," he finally said, his eyes closing for a moment in sorrow. "And we'll make sure she doesn't bother you again." He extended a hand, helping the blonde to her feet. "Well," he finished, "I suppose this is good-bye, then."
"Yes. It is." the vampire agreed. "Next time..." He cocked one brow at the Englishman expectantly.
Willow laughed softly, and poked her Mate in the ribs with her elbow. "Stop it, Angel," she ordered, "The next time Giles is worried about us, he'll call. *Right*, *Giles*?" She tried desperately to hide her inner anguish at having to take such steps against her ex-girlfriend, but some of it still leaked out, judging from the look on her former mentor's face.
"Yes," Giles agreed sadly, "Yes, I will." He wished there was something he could say, or do, to make things better, but there really wasn't, and he was wise enough to admit it, if only to himself. "Well. Good-bye, then. The diner is..?"
The vampire sighed softly. "One block down, on the left," he said. "That's where you'll find the others." He watched the man leave with the silent and stunned blonde in tow, and turned his witch in his arms. One arm remained around her waist, while his other hand moved to stroke her cheek softly. "You okay?" he asked quietly, wishing he could help.
The redhead sighed and nodded. "I still feel bad, but... she tried to kill you, Angel. And I don't think she would have stopped, either." She turned her head and kissed his palm softly before resting her forehead against his solid chest. "I'll get over it. You're alive-- or whatever-- and so am I, so..." She smiled and looked up into his eyes. "We should celebrate."
A wicked grin split his serious expression, and he bent down, swiftly gathering her in his arms. "Yeah," he purred, need racing through his form as he carried her quickly to the stairs, "We *should*!" He raced up to their floor, delighting in the giggles flowing from her lips, although he could still hear the slight edge of depression. She'd said she'd get over it, he reminded himself, and he was going to make sure she did.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Wow," Anya said quickly, when Giles finished explaining what had happened after he and Angel had run them all out of the hotel, "I guess you weren't kidding." She sighed deeply when the others stared at her. "Giles," she explained. "He said we'd pay the price for what Tara did, and we sure *are*."
Giles was the only one who actually knew what she meant, and he had the decency to flush slightly and look away. The rest of them were clueless, though.
"Um... An, honey," Xander said as smoothly as he could, "What are you talking about? Tara's the only one who's *paying*, here..."
The former demon rolled her eyes and reminded herself that she not only loved her boyfriend, but she was, in fact, going to marry him one day. "Xander," she said, speaking very slowly and clearly, "Willow's not coming back to Sunnydale, and Tara doesn't have any witchy powers anymore." She sighed again when he only nodded. "So who's gonna do our spells? I mean, with Buffy being dead now, we've *needed* the witch stuff, right? So where are we gonna *get* it from?" She nodded curtly when his eyes widened in understanding. "Exactly."
Wesley and Cordelia exchanged one swift and impatient glance when the young couple began arguing. "Enough!" the Seer finally cried. "You brought this on yourselves, you know, but I don't think Willow wants to see you guys hurt get hurt! Angel, either."
"Yes," Wes agreed, his voice rising over theirs, "Regardless of what you did by just flying off the handle and coming after him, I'm sure Angel... Well, actually, I'm sure he *doesn't* forgive you, but Willow won't let that stop her from helping you." He nodded tightly into the sudden silence. "I'll speak with her about maybe finding your group another practitioner, but until we do, I'd advise laying low for a while." Had Sunnydale not been a Hellmouth, and had their efforts been less than heroic, he probably would have laughed at the relief on their faces.
Cordelia groaned suddenly and closed her eyes. "Oh, God," she whined, "You know what this means, don't you? They're at the hotel. Alone. Together."
Anya's brow furrowed for a moment. "Yes," she declared, "And they just went through a life or death kind of thing. I'd say they're probably having lots of orgasms right about now." Her eyes flew around the table in confusion when the others groaned. "What?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
His fingers danced slowly over her sweat-sheened skin, returning yet again to the scar above her breast. He hated it, he knew; hated that proof of her mortality, hated the mark on her that hadn't come from him. His eyes met hers, and he tried to smile. "I love you, baby," he said softly. "I almost..." He shook his head. "I could have lost you, Will."
She couldn't tell him he was wrong. It would have been a very close thing, if they hadn't already been Mated. She really *could* have died. If he hadn't known what to do; if he hadn't managed to stop the bleeding the way he had... "I know," she said, after a moment. "I... I hate this, Angel," she told him, "I hate it that she could have killed me-- or even worse, killed *you*!" She sat up beside him, and turned to face him fully. "But I won't let that change the way we are. You know that, right?"
"Willow..." he said warningly, sitting up himself.
"No!" she interrupted, "You're the Warrior for the Powers, and I'm your Mate. There will *always* be someone out to get us, and I won't let you wrap me up in cotton and shut me away! I *know* your life is dangerous! I know *my* life is, too! And with the two of us together? Mated, even?" She sighed softly, one hand reaching out to cup his tense jaw. "I love you, Angel, but I won't let you make me hide just because you want to keep me safe. I can't."
The demon inside him was screaming that he should do just that. Lock her in one of the rooms and keep her there for the rest of eternity. And a large portion of his soul agreed. But still... she was Willow, after all. He loved her more than he'd ever known was possible, and to keep her from fighting beside him? That would mean denying her the very things that made her perfect for him. "I know," he whispered after a few minutes of tense silence. His eyes closed, and he leaned gently into her touch. "I know, Will," he went on, bowing his head until their foreheads met softly. "Just... don't ask me not to worry, okay?"
Her hand slid from his jaw to the back of his neck, and she smiled softly. "Okay," she agreed, "You can worry all you want. You wouldn't be Angel if you didn't *worry*." She pressed her lips lightly to his, teasing him gently with the tip of her tongue before pulling back. "And I'll be careful, love," she promised, sending the truth of that to him through their link, "I'll be careful, and..."
Angel moaned quietly, his eyes opening. "No more scars," he demanded, his fingers once again on the mark Tara's bolt had left on her skin. His hand slid up her chest, stopping at his own mark. "Only mine."
Willow nodded. "Only yours, Angel. No others, if I can help it." Her own eyes closed as he pulled her closer, and she gasped softly when he fell back against their bed, taking her slight form with him. "Love you," she sighed, even as his jagged teeth delved deeply into the one scar she truly adored.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He should have opened for business almost an hour earlier, and he knew it. He couldn't quite bring himself to, though. Mostly because he was afraid that if he did, she would leave, and he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He wasn't ready to have the one woman who knew exactly what he was-- and where he came from-- just walk away. Not that he was sure that she would, but... why take the chance? Of course, he told himself, he was probably reading things into her behaviour that just weren't there, but he was allowed to fantasize, wasn't he? And she was definitely the right sort for his fantasies to revolve around. He jumped slightly when he felt her hand on his arm, and pulled himself from his thoughts. "What?" he said, eyes wide.
Fred frowned slightly. Wherever his mind had just been, it definitely wasn't with *her*; maybe he *didn't* like her, after all. That would be a shame, she told herself. After all, he was the only one of her new friends whose reality she had never questioned. She'd known *he* was real from the very beginning. "I," she began, before shaking her head. "Am I boring you?" she finally asked, her eyes on the ring of condensation spreading from the bottom of her glass, "I mean..." She shrugged. "I'm keeping you from your work, aren't I. I could... I could leave."
"No!" he practically shouted, wincing when she cringed. "No," he said, more quietly, "I- I *should* open the bar, but... I don't want you to go, sweets." He closed his eyes, trying to rally his 'club-guy' persona. "Not without letting me hear that fabulous voice of yours again, anyway!" He relaxed slightly when she nodded, and he picked up his cocktail, taking yet another much-needed sip. "Okay, then," he announced, pushing his chair back from the table as he stood, "I'm gonna go let the throngs of alcohol-deprived patrons in, and *you*," he continued, smiling as he gestured to the list beside her, "Can pick out what you're going to sing for me-- *them*, I mean!"
The young woman giggled to herself as she watched him move to the door. So he *wasn't* bored. That was good. She wasn't too sure about singing in front of anyone else, but she'd manage, as long as *he* was there. She'd just have to be sure to look at him instead of anyone else. Her eyes roved swiftly over the type-written sheets, stopping when she found something she remembered from when she was a girl. "Oh," she said quietly to herself, "This is *good*!" Hopefully, he'd understand that she meant it. Of course, if he didn't, then he was just too stupid for her, attraction or no attraction.
End-- pt 14