AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

POV: Angel again.

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I'm getting more and more confused, and it's really starting to piss me off. I *hate* not knowing what's going on, but ever since Willow showed up here and did whatever she did with my childe, I've been entirely in the dark. Or it *feels* like it, anyway.

Okay, so they've claimed each other. Become Mates, even. I can handle that; it makes sense. But... what else is it? There's something *odd* between them, and I've been sure of it ever since that day last week when Willow proved that she... lives inside his head? Whatever. They have a closeness that's almost scary in its completeness, and I really don't know how to deal with it.

Time was, *I* was the one who knew my childe best. I understood him-- as well as anyone could, I thought. And now that's not true anymore. No, Spike's witch knows him-- understands him-- better than I ever could, and *he* understands *her*, and...

And I sound jealous.

Maybe I am.

Maybe I resent the fact that a demon like Spike can have the love of a woman like Willow. That she could be that deep inside him; know what he is and what he's done, and still love him the way she does. Maybe I wish that I could have had that sort of open-ness and whole-ness with Buffy, back when we were almost happy. Before I went bad again and tried to destroy the world.

It never really occurred to me that anyone *human*could look at one of my kind and see beyond the surface, but... Willow's shattered that belief even more than the Slayer's caring for me did.

Now there's a hard thought. Buffy. I wanted so much to be a *man* for her; to ignore my own nature. She wanted that, too, I think. But it just wasn't to be, and... I should have seen it. I should have *known*! How could either of us have thought that ignoring my demon would make it go away? Hell, I'm almost convinced that that was what set it *free*! No, much as I loved her, Buffy was... a mistake.

But that's *my* issue; not Spike's, and not Willow's. *They're* right together, somehow. It's strange, but I almost feel like they were meant to be. I mean, it's possible, right? Why else would I have followed Dru into that alley in London? Why would I have decided to pull her from the then brown-haired William? And why would I have pulled his dying body to my own neck, when I truly thought he was a weak, pathetic little creature? It has to have been the Powers at work, even then, setting the stage for whatever it is they've got planned for my childe and his Mate.

I envy them. They accept each other completely. There is no fear within the girl when she sees my boy's true face; hell, she seems to *enjoy* it when he shows her his demon! I watch them sitting together, or talking, or just... staring into each others' eyes, and... I envy them what they're feeling. She looks at him, all 'game-faced', and she strokes his brow, and it actually looks like she *melts*, and... *I* *want* *that*!

Oh, not with *Willow*, because she *is*-- above all else-- my childe's. But I want to feel that someday. I want to know what it's like to have someone know everything about you, and still love you. Not despite what you are, but *because* of it. I don't think it'll ever happen, though, because there's only one Willow, and she's thoroughly taken.

They're so close, it's almost blinding. I look at one of them, and I can see the other there, as well, and to see them fight is just... amazing. They move like they've been working together for centuries instead of months, and they sense each other so well, they each know exactly when the other is actually in trouble, as opposed to pretending. I don't think Wes, Cordy, and I have even laid a finger on any of the demons we've gone after since my childe and Willow joined us. Not that that's a bad thing; I'm just starting to feel... unnecessary.

So they fight, and they-- in my boy's words-- shag, and they're not exactly *quiet* about doing either, and...

Okay. I *am* jealous. And it only gets worse every time I have to hear them. I can't even get away! No, they spend the majority of the daylight hours making each other howl, and scream, and whimper, and moan, and... it's driving me insane. Wes and Cordelia can't hear them, what with being human and all, but I've got this damned vampiric thing going on, and... I'm spending about ninety percent of the day hard as a rock, and twice as dense.

I can't focus. I can't think. And God knows I can't *sleep* with their symphony of fucking... fucking, I guess. Angelus is constantly stirred up, demanding that I go and join them. He remembers what Spike was like, and he always *did* have a thing for the little witch. But that will never be. I won't allow it.

I've hurt my boy enough, and I refuse to intrude on his relationship with his Mate, even if he'd let me. Besides, just because I didn't lose my soul in Darla doesn't mean I can't lose it at all. That's not a chance I'm willing to take.

I'm also pretty sure that I don't love Willow that way, anyway. I mean, yeah, she's stunning, and smart, and god knows she's *powerful*-- all of which really appeals to me-- but she's... *Willow*! And even if I *did* love her like that, she's Spike's. He deserves to have his Mate be entirely *his*, and... I don't think I'd ever let her go if I was with her even *once*. I know *Angelus* wouldn't.

*Do* I love her? I don't know, honestly. I don't *think* so. Or not in an inappropriate way. I think... I love the way she loves my childe. Yeah. I want someone to love *me* that way. But I already said that, didn't I?

But I have to stop thinking about it now, because someone's walking into the hotel, and it's *not* someone I know. She's cute, though. Blonde, looks kind of shy, killer blue eyes. And she smells... almost familiar. Hell, she smells like Sunnydale and Scoobies!

'Can I help you?' I ask, getting up from the couch I've been pretending to read on. She's startled, I think; maybe she didn't see me at first. Her eyes are wide, and I slowly put my book down, not wanting to scare this girl.

She still looks kind of frightened, but my helpful smile is working, because she relaxes just a little. 'I'm l-looking for W-W-Willow,' she says softly, and my God, that stutter is just adorable.

I feel Angelus perking up in his cage, and I can't help but agree with what I know he's thinking. This girl is just our type. But she's skittish, and there's no way I'm gonna let my demon out to play. 'She's upstairs,' I answer, trying desperately to keep my eyes from raking over her. It's not easy, though, because she's wearing this long floral skirt that clings just a bit to her curves, and a tank top that makes it clear that she's not wearing a bra. But I force myself to keep looking at her face, and when she smiles slightly? It's fucking hopeless, because she's got one of the sweetest, most perfect dimples I've ever seen. 'I'll call up,' I say, moving to the phone, 'And you are?' She tells me her name, and my heart plummets, because... 'Tara?' Yeah. Of course. Willow's ex-girlfriend. It certainly explains that Sunnydale smell.

So I call up to Spike and Willow's room, and I know I'm interrupting them, but I just don't care. Willow answers, luckily, and when I tell her she has a visitor, and who that visitor is, I can *feel* the shock behind her silence. Still, 'She'll be right down,' I tell the girl, when Willow hangs up. 'Coffee?' I offer, and move to get her some when she nods.

She's gay, I remind myself, even as I ask her about cream and sugar. She shakes her head, though, and that's all right. So I carry the mug of coffee over to her, and she sits down on the end of the couch. 'I'm Angel, by the way,' I tell her, and her eyes are suddenly wide again.

'Oh,' she says, taking the cup from my hand and placing it on the table beside her before wrapping her fingers around mine. 'I'm s-s-sorry. A-b-bout Buffy, I mean...'

I hear her. Of course I hear her. But I'm too busy wondering what her suddenly racing heartbeat means. I try to convince myself that it's a subconscious reaction to being this close to a demon, but I know that's not it. She's spent ages with Spike running around, and she knows Anya, too, so... But she's *gay*, so it can't mean what I think I *want* it to. And I just met her, after all, so why should I be reacting this way?

Somehow she affects me even more than Jhiera did, but in the exact same way. 'I... it's okay,' I finally mumble, because she seems to be waiting for some kind of response, 'I mean... I miss her, but...' I can only shrug, not sure of how to explain my feelings on the subject of my ex.

Hell, I don't even know how to explain it to myself! She was my love, and my lover for that one night, and the world is a sadder, emptier place without her in it, but... life goes on. *I* go *on*. The earth keeps on turning, and evil still bubbles out from its core, and... The fight isn't over. Not by a long shot. Buffy was a great warrior. The longest lived Slayer ever. And I will miss her for the rest of my hopefully long life. But I won't deliberately follow her. I can't. I have too much left to do, and we were over long ago.

So I just sit, my hand in Tara's, and the silence is both comforting and comfortable. There's something soothing about this girl. She makes no demands, and I can tell that she's willing to listen, but she's equally willing to just let me be, and... that's unbelievably precious to me. Still, I'm almost relieved when Willow comes down the stairs and the long moment ends. 'Willow,' I say, as I let go of Tara's hand and stand.

She smiles at me, and I can feel her trepidation at facing the girl she left for my childe, but that's only normal, after all. I don't think she's even *talked* to Tara since the Scooby gang cut her out. 'Hi,' she says, and her tiny wince clues me to the fact that she's aware of how inadequate a greeting that is. I don't think she knows what else to say, though.

There's suddenly a very uncomfortable tension in the air, and I know I don't belong there. 'Why don't I go upstairs,' I say, 'And you two can... talk.' I turn away and dash up the main staircase before either of them can speak. I don't know why Willow's ex is here; I only hope she's not thinking of trying to get the girl back. Willow belongs to my childe now, just as much as he does to her; there's no coming between them. I hope Tara knows that. I'd hate to see her hurt.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My boy's worried. I can see it in his eyes. Of course, the way he's pacing around my room isn't designed to hide it, either. I suppose I can't blame him, though. I mean, his Mate is downstairs, talking to her ex, and they *were* together for a while. But still, he's starting to make me as edgy as *he* is. 'Stop it!' I growl, finally giving up on the sketch I've been trying to do. 'You two are so inside each other; just... *feel* her, already!'

I can tell by the sudden halt in his steps that it never even occurred to him, and I can't help but roll my eyes. He apparently becomes a complete and total idiot when his heart is involved. Of course, he made that obvious when he left Willow in Sunnydale, so I don't know why I'm surprised now. But he's immediately almost giddy, and I can't help but grin at his happy shout. I can't help laughing, either, when he starts dancing around the room. 'She loves me, Peaches!' he's caroling, as if I didn't know that already.

So I steal a page from Cordelia's book. 'Duh.' I say, chuckling at the lad's antics. He's bouncing around like a big blonde jumping bean, and I don't think I've *ever* seen the boy so happy, not even right after he and his witch claimed each other. It's a nice sight. 'So what's she *doing* here?' I ask, trying to hide how much I really want to know.

She brought them the things Anya packed up at the house in Sunnydale, apparently-- or that's what *Spike* says, anyway. And I should just leave it at that. I don't, though. No; I just *have* to ask. 'So how long is she staying?'

I barely hold back my groan when my childe's eyes fill with that knowing look, and I can tell he's gonna enjoy teasing me over this one! But he doesn't. He just shrugs, but that wicked light is still there, and he chuckles. 'Ask her yourself, you big pouf,' he tells me. He turns around and starts for the door, calling 'I'm gonna go get my *witch*,' over his shoulder, and I have to follow him, because God knows what he'll say to Tara if I'm not there.

This isn't good. I *know* it isn't good. I'm two hundred and forty-fucking-eight years old, and I'm all of a sudden lusting after my childe's Mate's ex-girlfriend, and I have no idea of *why*! *And* she's a lesbian! It's like I'm living in some bad soap opera! All I need now is to find out that the blonde girl is somehow my sister, and married to my father!

Fortunately, that isn't gonna happen, but still! When did my life become so bizarre? Oh, yeah... that night I followed *another* blonde into a dark alley.

The Powers are gonna *pay* for fucking with my world this way. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But *soon*!

End

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