Part 7
"Where will you go, Will?" Cordelia asked the redhead curiously. "I mean, Sunnydale's obviously out, so... Do you have someplace in mind, or are you just gonna..." Her voice trailed off quickly when her friend shook her head.
Willow closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers stilling against the shirt she was carefully folding. "I don't know," she admitted, after a moment, "But I just... I can't stay *here*, not when he doesn't..." She sighed, opening her eyes, and turned around to perch on the edge of the bed. "This was all a big accident, Cordy," she said slowly, "He didn't mean to..." She shook her head, not sure of how to explain it exactly. "It's my fault. *I* did this, and... it's not fair to him if I stick around. I'd just be a big, person-shaped reminder of the other night to him, and..." Another sigh escaped her lips then. "I don't *know* where I'm going," she said again, getting back to the original question, "But it's gotta be somewhere far away... Far enough that he can forget, and go on with his life."
Fred watched from the doorway as the dark-haired girl comforted the little redhead, her every instinct screaming that this shouldn't happen. The girl needed to *stay*! Running away would only make things *worse*, not better, and... she somehow thought that a part of the Willow *knew* that! But the little witch obviously wasn't listening to the *sensible* part of her brain. Unfortunately, Fred knew, there was no way for her to *make* the Willow listen to reason. She sighed softly and turned away, pulling her jacket from the hook on the wall by the front door. "I... I'm going out!" she called, and left the apartment without waiting for an answer. She and the vampire seemed to be the only ones who understood that the girl belonged at the hotel, so maybe Angel would have some ideas about how to make that happen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Well, they hate you," Wesley announced as he hung up the phone. "Giles understands that it was... not deliberate, but... As for the others, they all seem to think they should have staked you long ago."
Angel sighed, nodding. "Of course they do. Why wouldn't they?" He stood quickly, abandoning the couch as he started to pace yet again. "And its not like I can even say they're *wrong*. I mean, look at what I've *done*, Wes! I tried to kill them all; stalked them almost! Then when I finally got... better... I left them to their own devices! If I'd stayed in Sunnydale, maybe Buffy would still be alive, you know?" He shook his head again, his gaze stopping the former watcher's words. "But I came here, and then... God, Wes, I *claimed* *Willow*! She didn't want it, but that didn't stop me, did it? I may not have *meant* to, but I made her mine, and now... She wants to *leave*!" He growled slightly, without even realizing it. "And I know I should let her-- I actually *did* listen to you-- but... I *can't*!" His eyes were flashing gold sparks even as his pacing grew more frenzied. "I can *feel* her here," he continued, one hand rising to the spot where his heart didn't beat, "And in my head... I know she's confused, and... she feels *guilty* about something, but... She's so *pure*; so *right*... I can't let her leave! I *won't*! She needs me."
Wesley watched, eyes wide, as the vampire went on talking mostly to himself. His brow furrowed in thought, only to smooth out again moments later-- when he decided that Angel's odd mood-swings were most likely due to the claiming. "Angel!" he almost shouted, breaking through the older man's monologue, "Are you even *listening* to yourself? You sound *obsessed*! This is *Willow* we're talking about, here; you can't just... *stop* her from *leaving*!" He stiffened his spine and glared into his friend's yellow eyes. "Whatever the connection you're feeling," he hissed intently, "Whatever you *think* you know about what she wants and needs, you don't have the right to make her decisions *for* her!"
"Well, if anyone does," Angel began angrily, "Then..."
"No," Wesley insisted, "*Nobody* *does*! You obviously *believe* that you know her, but you *don't*, and if you could just look at this logically, you'd *see* that! You remember the girl she used to be, and while *that* girl might have been willing to just drift along with whatever was happening, I don't think *this* Willow will!" He sighed, seeing that Angel wasn't even close to agreeing. "She loves you," he tried again, "And she knows you don't feel that way for her. I don't blame her for wanting to get away from that situation, regardless of the fact that you've claimed her. And I will help her in any way I can." He hardened his heart to the suddenly lost look on the vampire's face, and continued. "As will the *rest* of us. Willow's a smart girl; we all like her. We won't let her be forced into an... arrangement... that's only going to make her unhappy." He nodded sharply and turned away, having said all he could think of. "I'll be in my office."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I just don't know what to *do*," the redhead sighed, staring at the floor. "I mean, a big part of me *hates* the fact that he only wants me now 'cause I forced him into... what happened the other day, but the *rest* of me is just..." She sighed, closing eyes still slightly swollen from the crying she'd done earlier, and shrugged, falling silent.
Cordelia nodded, fairly sure that she understood, even if she *hadn't* ever been in the situation her friend had been plunged into. Still, "Angel's a big boy, Willow," she said quietly, "I doubt that a little bitty thing like you could *force* him into *anything*!" She giggled slightly at the very thought. "I mean, he's been around for almost two and a half *centuries*, so I'm fairly sure he knows how to... brush off unwanted advances by now. Add in that whole 'I have a soul, I'm broody' thing, and..." She chuckled again. "Nope, I'm pretty sure he could have stopped things if he'd really *wanted* to! So the *question* is," she finished, one arm going around the redhead's shoulders, "Why are you so thrown by all of this?" Her smile remained as her friend started to haltingly explain, only to fade entirely when they got to the actual crux of the matter. Oh, she thought... *poor* *Willow*... Still, the fact that Angel *hadn't* called a halt to things-- whether he'd been dreaming or *not*-- had to mean there was *something* there! Her lips twitched just a bit as she realized-- she might know just how to find out!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He sat in his room silently, every thought wrapped up in the little redhead. His brow furrowed even as the soul-having parts of his being agreed-- in theory, anyway-- with what Wes had said. The man was right, after all. He *didn't* love the girl. He didn't feel anything for her that was even *remotely* like what he'd felt for Buffy. But he *needed* her. He *wanted* her. His entire body was aching with the desire to drag her from Cordelia's apartment and bring her *home*! It didn't help matters that the demon-y parts of him were fully in support of that scenario; in fact, he'd caught himself striding down the hall four times already, with only the pictures of what he'd do with her-- once he got her back where she belonged-- dancing in his head. "I'm going insane..." he murmured, running his fingers through his short brown hair, "She's making me crazy..." He growled softly to himself, and fell back flat on his mattress, one forearm coming to rest across his eyes. "Or maybe I already *am*."
Fred smiled to herself as she stepped into his room, closing the door gently behind her. "No," she said, in her quavering voice, "You're bound to her, Angel. You can't let her leave." She met his sudden surprised gaze for just a moment before pulling her eyes away, and she sat quickly in the chair by his bed. "It would be wrong. The Willow belongs *here*."
He stared at her in confusion for a minute or so, baffled by the fact that she seemed to understand what was happening. But Fred had been a bit odd ever since he'd met her, and he strongly suspected that that wasn't going to change any time soon. Besides, she *seemed* to be on his side. "So you think... what?" he demanded quietly, not wanting to scare her, but unable to stay silent.
"I think there's a *reason*," the woman replied softly, her voice almost tentative as she went on. "I think the Powers watch over you, and... would they have let this happen if..." She stopped, shrugging as she continued to stare at the edge of the rug. "You're a good man..." she told him, repeating the words she'd said in Pylea, after he'd become the beast for the first time.
It had honestly never occurred to him that the Powers might have had a hand in what had happened, mostly because Cordelia's vision had seemed designed to *stop* it, but... He sat up straight, a bit of hope in his eyes for the first time in *days*. "I..." he began, before shaking his head, "Thank you, Fred." He smiled then, and glanced at the clock. Only three more hours, and he could go out. With any luck, Lorne would be able to give him some answers, even if he *did* have to sing!
"I'm going with you," she told him quietly, smiling shyly when he nodded.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Well?" Cordelia asked softly, not even looking at her robe-clad, green-skinned friend, "What do you see?"
Lorne sighed, his eyes locked on the smallish redhead singing her heart out on the small stage of the remodeled club. "I see a little witch with a big heartache," he said, equally quietly, "And no idea of how to fix it. But you already *knew* that." He sighed again, wishing with all his heart for a good strong drink. "Look, Princess," he went on, "It's obvious that she loves that broody sack of vampire with all her heart. It's *also* obvious that she's completely *freaked* by what's happened." He rubbed his eyes for a moment, not sure of what else to say, but... "She's got a tough decision to make, and I'm not sure that *either* choice will be good for her."
The Seer glared at him, her brows drawing together. "Okay, but... what's her destiny? What's she *supposed* to do, here?"
The Pylean shook his head sadly, still watching the girl on stage. "Oddly enough, in this case, I have no idea..." and that was all he'd let her drag from him on the subject.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Fred!" Wesley said loudly, surprised to see the woman there as he stepped from his office, "What's wrong? Is it Willow? Is she all right?" He relaxed slightly when she nodded in that disconnected fashion of hers, and moved swiftly to the chair beside the couch she was sitting on. "What is it, then? Why are you... here?" His eyes darted quickly to the stairs, and he relaxed further when he didn't see Angel.
"He's sleeping," Fred said softly, correctly interpreting his glance, "And the Willow is fine; she's with Cordelia."
"And you're here because...?" Wesley tried again, redirecting her to the question she *hadn't* answered.
The brunette gazed at the Englishman from the corner of her eye, not sure of what his reaction would be. Still, she answered him. "We're going to see the Reader-Demon when Angel wakes up." She tensed slightly in preparation for an explosion that didn't come, and giggled a bit when the man laughed.
He was still smiling as he stood. "Yes," he murmured quietly, "I don't know why I didn't think of that myself..." and "Good," he said next, more loudly, "Lorne should be able to clear this up for him. Make him see reason, and all. Yes. Good idea, Fred!" He felt a good bit of the built up tension leaving him, and he smiled more broadly. "Do you want me to go with you?" he offered, relieved when the young woman shook her head. He'd heard Angel sing before, after all, and... it wasn't an experience he was dying to repeat. "Well, you'll let me know what happens." He turned and quickly returned to his office, whistling merrily. Yes, the Host would make it very clear to Angel that he had to leave Willow alone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Gunn was grinning madly as he and his crew of street kids dusted the last of the vampires who had surrounded him, and his grin grew even wider when his people dragged the tall, thin demon who'd led them in front of him. "Well, well," he intoned, his amusement clear in his voice, "What do we have here?" He chuckled slightly at the creature's silence, and swiftly rammed a boot into the thing's abdomen. "Let's try this again," he said smoothly, eyes darkening in anger. "What do we have here!"
The demon shivered slightly beneath the human hands holding him, promising himself that if he got out of this situation alive, he was going to set his entire clan to hunting the one who'd told him this group would be easy pickings for his little gang. "The name's Marley," he grunted, trying to ignore the pain in his gut.
The handsome black man nodded slowly. "Appropriate name for a dead man," he said, smirking slightly at the demon's confused look. "Charles Dickens," he clarified, almost groaning at the continued lack of comprehension he saw. "A Christmas Carol?" He sighed with exaggerated sadness, and shook his head. "Man, you demons are an uneducated bunch!" He sighed again before getting back to the business at hand. "Okay. Marley. You mind telling me what you and your little band of bad-ass wannabes thought you were doing on *my* *turf*?"
Marley seriously considered keeping silent for all of five seconds, his voice flying from his lips when the big, dark human pulled his foot back again. "We were hired!" he almost screamed. "We were told that you people were weak, and that killing you would hurt the souled-one!"
Gunn smirked into the eyes of his second within his group, amused by how quickly the demon had folded. "So who hired you, and why do they want to hurt Angel?" he demanded, hands clenching into very obvious fists.
The demon's internal debate lasted for less than a moment. "Some lawyer," he announced, "I didn't catch her name. She didn't tell me why, but..." he cringed as the human stepped forward, "I heard her say something about keeping the souled-one from bonding to his Mate!" He cringed again when the big bald man laughed coldly. "That's all I know; I *swear* it!"
Charles Gunn nodded slowly, and took a step back. "Y'know, I actually believe you," he replied seriously, "And I *also* believe that if we let you go, you'll take whatever remains of your little group and get the Hell out of my town." He waited until the skinny, lanky demon finished nodding, and signaled quickly at his crew. "Let him go, guys," he ordered, staring hard into the creature's eyes, "He's no danger to us. But if any of you see him again...?" He left the rest of the statement open to interpretation, and laughed along with his group as the suddenly released demon ran away faster than any of them would have believed possible. "Okay," he added, moving towards his truck, "Standard ops, and I'll be at the hotel if something comes up." He climbed into the cab and sped off into the night, wondering just what Wolfram and Hart knew about the little witch that the A.I. team didn't.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lorne groaned loudly as the vampire hit yet another flat note, and raised one hand to his ear, checking for the blood he was *sure* was seeping from it. "Enough!" he cried loudly, bounding onto the stage, "That's *enough*!" He ignored the affronted look Angel shot him, and the grateful round of applause from the small number of people in the audience. "No need to chase the customers *away*," he muttered, dragging the vampire from the stage. "Sit," he instructed, pushing his 'guest' towards a vacant table at the back of the club, "I'll be right there." He sighed and turned to the bar. He was going to need a drink, and he *knew* it!
"All right," Angel said impatiently when Lorne joined him a moment or three later, "What do I do?"
The demon sighed, rolling his eyes. "What... No 'hi, how ya doin'?' Fine!" He lowered himself easily into a chair. "Angel. Bubeleh. You've *really* done it *this* time!" His eyes closed in pleasure as he took his first sip of his drink. "And that's a bartender who knows his business!"
"Lorne..." Angel said, the name coming out as a warning growl.
Lorne sighed again and opened his eyes, catching the vampire's brown with his own red. "You claimed the little witch and you don't know what to do." A slight frown creased his usually happy lips, and he shook his head slowly. "Would it surprise you to hear that *I* don't know, either?" He closed his eyes once again, unwilling to look at his friend when he continued. "You weren't supposed to claim the girl yet, Angel," he told him seriously, "It wasn't supposed to happen for a few more years. That's why the Princess had that vision, you know. But you *did* claim her, and now...?" The demon sighed, opening his eyes again. "Well, now it's just a big, ugly *mess*!"
The vampire nodded, catching Fred's eye where she stood at the end of the bar. He inclined his head, motioning her to come join them. "I know," he replied to Lorne's comments. He smiled slightly when Fred actually made it to the table, and filled her in on what had been said, his eyes widening when the young woman laughed delightedly.
The brunette couldn't help herself, and it took her a good minute to stop giggling. "I was right," she finally said, her voice just as soft as it usually was. "About the Powers," she tried to clarify, giggling again when they both looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "*He*," she said, pointing one trembling finger at the green-skinned Pylean, "Said *yet*. You weren't supposed to claim the Willow *yet*."
Angel could feel the smile spreading across his face, and he didn't even try to stop it. He hadn't noticed Lorne's use of the word, but... Suddenly he was sure that things would work out. "Okay," he said, forcing himself to at least *sound* calm, "So how do I clean up this 'big, ugly mess'? How do I make her *stay*?" He could feel the small kernel of hope in his heart swelling, and he smiled again as he, Fred, and Lorne fell to discussing his options.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He was just getting ready to leave for the night when Cordelia entered the lobby. "Cordy?" he said, surprised to see her, "I thought you were with Willow..."
The brunette smiled a little, still a bit wrung out by the things that had been happening. "Not anymore," she replied softly, moving to her desk and collapsing into her chair. "I took her..." she began, only to be stopped by the sudden appearance of an obviously hurrying Gunn.
"Yo, English!" he called out, relieved to find the former watcher still at work, "That law firm knows something about witchy-poo!" He paced quickly in front of Cordelia's desk as he filled them in. "We need to set a guard on her or something," he finished.
"Right," Wes said intently, "We'll move her back here. Angel will stay at my place." His eyes took on a far away look as he swiftly made plans to protect the little witch. "I'm a bit concerned about this lawyer thinking she's his Mate, though. As far as I know he's only *claimed* her, and it's a big step from claiming to Mating..."
Cordelia thought about that for less than a minute. "Maybe it's 'cause she's the one who restored his soul...?" She shrugged the thought off, not noticing the suddenly round eyes Wesley was sporting. "It doesn't matter now, though," she continued, "What with her being *gone*, and all!"
If his eyes got any wider, he thought they might just pop put of his skull, because he'd been under the impression that... "Don't you mean that she *helped* with the soul restoration?" he demanded, groaning when Cordelia shook her head.
"Nope," she answered swiftly, "She did it all by herself, even though she was in the hospital at the time!" A proud smile plastered itself on her lips, because... her friend was one bad-ass witch!
Wesley would have dearly loved to hear more, but that was when her other comment registered on him. "Cordelia," he said slowly, "What do you mean 'she's gone'... Where did she go?"
Cordelia's smile faded then. "She didn't say where," she said softly, "She just asked for a ride to the airport. I dropped her off a couple hours ago."
The former watcher groaned loudly. He'd wanted the girl to get away,
but that had been before he'd known about the spell she'd done to restore
Angel's soul. That changed everything! He sat down on the couch, his head
in his hands, wishing he'd paid more attention when he'd been in Sunnydale.
If he had, he told himself, he would have *known*!