It's About Time

Author: Carrie

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~Parts: 16~

...about two months later...

"Any sign of him?"

"No," Willow hissed in response to Buffy's whispered question as they peered through the surrounding darkness.  "But I know he's out there, somewhere.  Watching...waiting..." Aware that at that very moment he could be watching her, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce, Willow shivered with anticipation.

It was Friday night.  Patrol night.  And for Willow, these routine group patrols were easily the highlight of her week.

When she'd first learned that Friday nights were supposed to be their regular group patrol nights, but they had simply gotten out of the habit during those last few hectic weeks of summer, Willow wasn't all that surprised.  In her own timeline, it was hardly unheard of for her to join Buffy during patrols.  What was a surprise, however, was that Angel not only accompanied them but used the outings as a training exercise as well.  They didn't just wander from one park to the next, cemetery to cemetery, searching for vampires while discussing the latest episode of 'X-Files' or 'Friends' and munching on a bag of cheese doodles.  In this timeline, patrols were structured and organized.  Everyone had a job to do.  Not that they always did them, of course.  They were still teenagers, after all.

Willow didn't mind the coordinated effort, because she quickly learned that if things were a little slow on the slayage front during these exercises, Angel would soon liven things up.  The souled vampire seemed to take great pleasure in using a little role-playing or a sneak attack, anything he could think of to keep them on their toes and thinking on their feet, which explained everyone's calm reaction the night she'd returned, knocking down Xander and babbling about Angelus.

Although 'Angelus' had yet to make an appearance since school had started and the patrols had resumed, Willow definitely got to see a different side of Angel on Friday nights.  He didn't simply lurk in the background; he tracked and trailed, stalked and prowled, folding himself into the darkness like a true child of the night. On patrol nights, Angel was *all* vampire, and instead making her nervous or giving her horrifying flashbacks, Willow was now undeniably and inexplicably drawn to him.

And it irked her.

How come she found it so easy to ignore her attraction for Angel when they were back at Slayer Central, researching or discussing the latest demon of the week?  For the past couple of months, he'd been a perfect gentleman, always giving her the space and privacy she needed, sticking to his agreement to pretend as if their lurid past didn't exist.  Sitting across from that solemn vampire at Slayer Central didn't make her tummy flutter, *much*, but watching him slip soundlessly through the shadows awakened a myriad of conflicting emotions deep within.

"What do you think, Willow?  Should we throw a bucket of water on them before Angel reappears?"

At the sound of Buffy's voice, Willow quit scanning the shadowed park to frown playfully at Buffy.  "What?  Oh, sorry, but I seem to have left the bucket in my other pants.  Besides, do you really think they'd even notice?"

Exchanging a conspiratorial look, Buffy and Willow again parted the overgrown rhododendrons to sneak a peek at Xander and Cordelia.  They were still standing in the middle of the small clearing, locked in a frantic embrace with the wandering of their lips being only slightly outdone by their roving hands.

"No," Buffy said in a tone that was half-sigh, half-whisper.  "I don't think they'd notice if we set a fire hose on them."

With the heat the passionate pair were creating, Willow wondered if a fire hose might not be such a bad idea.  Even the crisp air of the late-September night couldn't stop her cheeks from burning after witnessing a small portion of the teenagers' fiery exchange.  She doubted Smokey the Bear would approve.

Willow straightened and let the branch shift back, giving the couple their privacy.

Willow didn't actually mind that Xander and Cordelia's romantic escapades were threatening to set the autumn leaves on fire.  Cordelia always seemed very busy now that school had resumed.  From what Willow could tell, between cheerleading practice, student council, homecoming committee meetings and her time spent battling vamps and such, Cordelia and Xander rarely had a moment alone.  No wonder they had a thing for broom closets.  Sometimes when Willow thought about Cordelia's hectic school schedule, she almost felt guilty.

Almost, but not quite.

After more than a century, Willow was finally a Sunnydale High School Senior as well.  Better yet, a Sunnydale High School Senior with an easy course load and a shortened school day, for which she thanked Jenny every chance she could.  Sure, most of her classes were dull...sometimes excruciatingly so as it all seemed rather redundant now, but it was nicely low stress for a change, especially when compared to the others' school days.

Okay, so maybe her patience for the cuddling pair did stem somewhat from guilt or perhaps it was simply because she was more mature now, but Willow didn't begrudge Xander and Cordelia these few intimate moments, even if they were supposed to be patrolling.

Willow sighed as she turned away from their private spot, and Buffy straightened at the sound.  She watched the redhead walk away for a moment, hesitated, and then followed.

"What's wrong, Wills?"  Buffy asked in the same tone Willow imagined a mother might use when she found a crying child.  Their relationship was strange like that now.  Brief, sparkling moments of normalcy interspersed with blurry awkward times when they both seemed aware that their friendship wasn't what it had once been. They never did have that sleepover they'd discussed back in July, over two months ago now.  Willow always managed to find an excuse, and Buffy always seemed to understand.

The century-old redhead had yet to tell her friends what had really happened to her, even at the gentle urgings of Giles and Jenny.  The more time passed, the more reluctant she was to tell them the truth.  It was a vicious cycle, one that Willow didn't know how to end, and the strain was beginning to affect all of her relationships.  No matter how hard she tried, Willow never felt like she fit back into the group, whether in her old Willow role or in a newer one.  While she was sure that the others did notice the changes in her, they'd kept their comments to themselves so far. She did occasionally catch them whispering to each other or suddenly changing the topic when she entered the room, but they never confronted her about how withdrawn she must seem, something else for which she was grateful.

On the occasions that they did ask how she was, which had become less and less frequent over the past two months, Willow would slip into her poker face, all the while wishing it weren't necessary.  Finding a strange sort of comfort in its familiar indifference, Willow always found it easy to produce yet another lie to explain away her most recent strange behavior.

"Nothing, really," Willow assured Buffy, not allowing herself to hide behind her poker facade this time.  When Buffy made a 'I'm not buying it for a second face', Willow told her the truth. "I'm just...a little jealous, I guess."

"But I thought you were over Xander?  I thought Angel cured you of that?"

"He did!  I--I mean, *I* did!  I am.  My Xander-crushage is long, *long* gone."  Willow paused to compose herself.  "It's just that..."  she trailed off, her eyes lingering on the shadows that surrounded them.

"Sometimes you wish you had someone to sneak off into the bushes and shirk responsibility with?" Buffy supplied.

Willow relaxed and gave her friend a somewhat embarrassed nod, remembering that Buffy was also still currently without a boyfriend.

Buffy sighed through a tight smile.  "Me, too."  She paused to stare over Willow's shoulder.  "You know," she began, the barest hint of a wicked glint brightening her hazel eyes, "I'm sure *Angel* would love to do a little shirking with you."

When Willow turned to see what Buffy was looking at, her breath caught.  Like a lion returning to his pride, Angel prowled toward them, cutting a smooth path through the moonlit park.  God how she loved the way Angel moved.  He had that same predatory ease that she'd always appreciated in Spike.  But where Spike moved like he had all the time in the world, with his own special brand of lazy grace, Angel's movements were determined, calculated, as if he were aware of every muscle and sinewy fiber in his body.

What's more, Willow was beginning to think that she was aware of every muscle in his body as well.  It wasn't her fault, she assured herself when she began to feel guilty for her naughtier thoughts.  She was, undoubtedly, the world's oldest virgin, which should give her license to occasionally covet the male form, and at this moment, Angel's was magnificent.

As he did on most patrols, Angel was wearing a close-fitting, long-sleeved, v-necked knit shirt.  It clung to him unabashedly, revealing the well-defined musculature of his upper torso, arms and abs, as well as a tantalizing peek at his bare chest.  His casual canvas pants, while far from tight, made it impossible for Willow not to appreciate the vampire's tight butt and strong thighs whenever he stooped behind a bush, ready to pounce at the slightest sound from the other side.  The fact that all his clothes were black (as were everyone else's on patrol nights) only added to his already devastatingly masculine allure.

It was like this every time they patrolled together.  Willow couldn't keep her eyes from lingering on his body, all over his body actually, often averting her admiring gaze just in time to avoid being caught by his attentive eyes.  She hated to think of his reaction if he realized how strongly she was drawn to his vampiric side.  He'd been fighting evil in his own way for decades, and yet she loved watching the silent way he moved through the night, creeping low behind deeply shadowed shrubs, moments later sprinting at supernatural speed to either tackle a fleeing vamp or simply give Buffy a run for her money.  And when in an attempt to catch them being careless during patrol, Angel actually managed to circle around and sneak up behind them?  Well, the wild thumping in her heart wasn't simply from being startled.

He was drawing nearer, and Willow hated how her pulse tried to quicken whenever Angel was at his most vampire-like.  She fought it with her breathing techniques, but it wasn't easy.  And it wasn't fair.  It wasn't right.

If only tonight were a regular research night, because then she'd be immersing herself in good old safe demonic references instead of drowning in something much more dangerous.  No, not the patrolling.  In fact, she actually enjoyed the freedom patrols gave her, including the rare chance to put her martial arts skills to use, but the freedom came with a price: Angel. Angel on patrol was deliciously dark and satisfyingly dangerous...he was all vampire.

Willow had to shake herself free from her own treacherous thoughts and rip her eyes away from the approaching vampire.  "Do you ever give up, Buffy?" she asked in a soft voice that wasn't quite as casual as she'd hoped for.  Her heart was thumping too loudly for her to manage casual, and she shuddered to think how obvious and headstrong Buffy would be about getting them together if she knew the whole story.

Buffy grinned, reveling in her victory.  "Now what kind of Slayer would I be if I admitted defeat easily?"

"A dead one," Angel said as he finally joined them.  He scanned the girls' faces, hoping for a hint as to what they'd been talking about.  He'd thought for a moment, hoped even, that Willow had been watching his approach with hungry eyes, but now those same green eyes were cool and unaffected, and as usual, looking anywhere but at him.  Buffy, on the other hand, was grinning madly and appeared about a heartbeat away from winking at him.  Very familiar with The Slayer's sly look, Angel decided it probably wouldn't be prudent to ask what they'd been talking about just then.  He hoped they were discussing him, and that Buffy in that stubborn, unsubtle way of hers was still trying to get through Willow's defenses where he was concerned, but he wouldn't ask.  No matter how badly he wanted to know.

"Where are Xander and Cordelia?" Angel asked instead.  It seemed a much safer topic.

Willow glanced at the bushes that hid the couple from view.  "Well, they're still here, they're just...busy."

Buffy picked up from there.  "They're, um, struggling with a different kind of demon right now."

With a dark brow raised in curiosity, Angel looked at them both again, then at the bushes.  He knew exactly what the two teenagers were struggling with.  He'd been young once, after all...not that age actually lessened that particular struggle one iota.  He cast a sidelong glance at Willow, taking in for about the 100th time that night just how alluring she was in her slim-fitting black suede jeans and black crocheted sweater.  When she turned his direction, Angel quickly looked away, further convinced that the kind of struggle Cordelia and Xander were currently engaged in was nothing compared to his.

"Really?" he finally asked in a hushed, overly-serious tone.

As he stalked deliberately toward the rhododendrons, Willow had to bite her lip to keep from releasing a purely girlish sigh. She forced her eyes to study the nearby flora instead of the sexy vampire. Much more of this, and the mere sight of him would have her swooning like a Victorian virgin after her first kiss behind the potted palms.  She wondered vaguely if he might consider wearing baggy sweats for the next patrol.  Something in a very unsexy lime green.  And did he have to prowl like that?  Maybe he'd consider skipping instead.  Skipping wasn't sexy.

Oh, who was she kidding?  Angel could be wearing lime-green sweats three sizes too large and skipping through the tulips like some sort of demented Teletubby, and she'd still find herself drawn to him like the proverbial moth to the flame.  It wasn't fair.

"What did they find?" Angel continued lightly, unaware of Willow's internal struggles.  "Vampire nest?  Chaos demon?  Flock of rabid garden gnomes?"
Buffy stepped to the side and parted the bushes, giving Angel a quick peek at Xander and Cordelia, who were still thoroughly and physically engrossed in one another.  "Neither.  Only teenagers in love," she whispered, letting the branches close again.

"Guess that's what I get for letting them guard our backs.  Next time they'll be in front, on point.  Better yet, we'll separate them," Angel decided with feigned seriousness.

"Look at the bright side," Willow said, trying to occupy her wandering mind that kept pointing out how smooth Angel's skin looked in the moonlight. "We may be short a couple of demon hunters, but they make great bait."

"Yeah, I guess when two people are that oblivious to their surroundings they're just bound to be attacked by vampires."  Buffy sighed melodramatically.  "It's fate."

Willow's lips twisted into a wry smile.  "More like copious amounts of hormones and a preternatural sense of smell," Willow added aloud without thinking.

Buffy blinked at Willow, then her hazel eyes widened as the redhead's meaning sunk in.  "You mean...um, that vampires can actually tell when two people are..."

Willow hoped she wasn't blushing, acutely aware that an amused Angel was studying her, trying very hard not to grin himself.  "Well, yes--"

"Oh my god..." Buffy began.  "Willow, how did you...Angel, why didn't you tell me?"

"I did," Angel calmly interrupted the Slayer's embarrassed stammering.

"You never told me that a vampire can tell when someone is...that they can, er, smell when two people...you know...*really* like each other.  I would have remembered that!"

"Actually, I did, Buffy.  I just wasn't as direct as Willow.  I think I said something like: 'Vampires can detect love in the air.'"

Buffy paused to consider this. "Oh.  I thought you were just being poetic." Buffy was silent for another moment, and Willow had to chew on the inside of her lip to keep from giggling.  "So if we wait here long enough and let them continue to paw each other, then we should have some company?"

Angel quickly scanned the park, taking note of the breeze and its direction.  "If there are any vampires within a block or so from here, downwind, they'll come."

With a grin of anticipation, Buffy pulled out a stake, tossed it casually in the air and caught it.  She seemed to have gotten over her embarrassment.  "Since we're already ringing the dinner bell, I guess we better get comfortable."

Willow took up a position behind a smelly trashcan, Buffy knelt in the shadows of a stunted fir, while Angel used the thick trunk of an old pine tree for cover.  Then they did what Willow did best:  They waited.  But not for long.  Before Willow could become nauseated by the stench of rotting fast food, a hungry vampire crashed into the protected clearing that Xander and Cordelia had chosen for their rendezvous.  The vampire's ravenous path took him within a foot of Buffy's hiding place.  Before he was even aware that it had been a trap, the vampire was floating to the ground as a million particles of dust.

Finally noticing that their friends surrounded them, stakes in hand, Xander and Cordelia parted with a guilty start.  "Um...we didn't miss anything, did we?" Xander asked through am embarrassed cough.

"Not really," Buffy replied, slipping the stake back into her pocket with practiced ease.  "It was almost too easy...I feel kinda cheated."

As did Willow, who'd actually been hoping for a good fight.  Maybe it would have exhausted all that pent-up energy that was screaming for any sort of physical release, and it looked like fighting was as close as she was going to get for quite some time.

Her lack of progress on the Oz front was discouraging.  Even though he was repeating his senior year at Sunnydale High School for reasons Willow didn't fully understand, he seemed to be going out of his way to avoid her ever since that night she'd wolf sat.  Since then, they'd barely exchanged more than the occasional "Hey," in the school hallways.

Of course, whenever she and Spike managed to spend some time together, which was infrequently at best, he always volunteered to help relieve her of any and all sexual tension.  Yep.  She could always count on the blond vampire to insinuate himself, physically and verbally, in true Spike fashion.  While she'd probably be a little disappointed if he didn't continue to try every once in a while, she wasn't about to risk the delicate balance of what felt like her only true friendship just because she was a little...sexually needy.  She'd already survived over a century without sex.  Another few months...years...wouldn't kill her, even if it did feel that way sometimes.

Willow gnawed on her lower lip.  Tonight was definitely one of those times, she decided as her eyes hungrily sought out Angel again and again, until she was finally caught.  This time, Angel was regarding her with equal intensity.  Before she forced herself to look away, Willow allowed herself to sink in the warm pools of his brown eyes for a moment, bathing herself in the understanding and tenderness she found there.

She only pulled away from the depths of his gaze when she realized that she'd unknowingly moved closer to the vampire.  Frustrated at her own weakness, Willow glanced at the others, hoping they hadn't noticed.  Luckily, Buffy was too busy watching Cordelia and Xander try to straighten their clothes to take any notice of Willow.

Ten minutes, one awkward explanation of vampire bait, and several fierce blushes later, patrol had resumed, and they were on their last pass through the park.  Next stop: one of the nearby cemeteries.

Willow lagged behind the others, keeping watch for anything suspicious in a vain attempt to focus on something other than the lure of Angel's muscles moving beneath his clothes.  A movement out of the corner of her eye brought her to an immediate halt.  She'd just slipped the stake out of her pocket when a number of vampires seemed to appear out of nowhere.  Willow barely had enough time to yell: "Incoming!" before the vampires were on them.

The first vampire to engage Willow was an oily sort, wearing a black Members Only jacket, a thin leather tie, and hair that was way too big.  Willow staked him before he'd even been able to touch her.  Unfortunately, there was an orange-haired, freckle-face vamp immediately ready to take his place.

Soon, the others were similarly occupied, finding no shortage of vampires to square up against.  The Scooby Gang fought back-to-back, as they'd been taught, while still giving each other plenty of space to maneuver, but Willow seemed to have more than her fair share of vampires to fight and before long she found herself separated from the others.

Angel didn't know how it happened.  One moment they were handling the situation as well as could be expected given that they were out numbered and caught by surprise, and then the next, Willow was gone from view.

While fighting off a copper-skinned female vampire who'd gone overboard on the eye makeup, her fake spider-like lashes seemingly interfering with her ability to land a decent punch, he was finally able to spot Willow a short distance away, completely surrounded by vampires.  She had as many vampires to defend herself from as he and the others had combined, yet Willow appeared to be holding her own.  No matter how formidable her marital arts skills, however, her strength and stamina were still merely human.  She was going to need help.

Buffy was on his left, currently pummeling a particularly spry female vampire who appeared to have studied gymnastics in her living years.  But since he was now fighting off three and Buffy only had the one....

"Buffy," he called, trying to keep his rising panic about Willow out of his voice.  "Think you can tear yourself away from Mary Lou Retton there long enough to give Willow a hand?"

"Already on it, Angel," Buffy said, spotting the opportunity to stake the vampire when she stumbled after a series of back handsprings.  "Looks like you blew the dismount," Buffy informed the vampire dryly, plunging the stake into her unbeating heart.

Angel's relief was short-lived, however, because the moment The Slayer took a step in Willow's direction, three more vampires engaged her all at once.  "Xander, can you get to Willow?"

"I'm trying, but they--"  Before Xander could finish the statement, he was shoved violently from behind and propelled in the exact opposite direction of Willow.  A moment later, Cordy, who'd been fighting alongside Xander, landed on top of him.

"All right," Buffy shouted in a suspicious tone, "what the hell is going on?"  Her shout came to Willow over the sounds of fighting.  Buffy easily ducked under a female vampire's sweeping punch, staking her before she had the chance to throw another.  But the Slayer didn't have time to catch her breath before another vampire loomed before her.  "Where are they all coming from?"

"I was just wondering the same thing!" Willow shot back in answer to Buffy's question.  "Everyone okay?"

Although Angel found the sound of Willow's voice reassuring, he couldn't answer for himself.  He was too busy doing everything he could to get to Willow's side, but the vampires he battled seemed to have something else in mind.  Every chance they had, the vampires pushed, kicked or threw him as far from Willow as they could.  Whenever he broke away, another vampire blocked his path.  The moment he staked one, another took its place and knocked the stake out of his hand.  Strange thing was, the vampires weren't all that vicious.  They didn't act as if they wanted to kill them all in one savage night of blood sport.  They just seemed to enjoy a good fight.

"Just peachy," Xander called back.  "Cordy's broken a couple of nails, but that's about the extent of our injuries so far."

"We're managing okay, Willow," Buffy called back between spinning kicks to two different vampires.  "How are you...holding up?"

"Um, I'm getting kinda lonely over here, despite all the pleasant company of the fanged variety."  Although Willow wasn't getting thrown around as much as the others, she was taking the occasional step backwards, putting even more distance between herself and her friends.  Even when she was aware of their tactics, realizing that she'd been singled out for some reason, she couldn't manage to get back to Angel and the others.

"We're trying to get to you, Willow, but--"  At that moment, Buffy was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled backwards, again in the opposite direction of Willow.

"Buffy?"

"--but the vampires seem to have something else in mind..." Buffy finished when she was able.

While continuing to fight, Willow strained to see how the others were faring.  The only person she could actually see was Xander, and he seemed to be holding his own even though she couldn't see a stake in his hand.  Since he didn't seem overly panicked, she assumed that meant Cordelia was also okay.  She couldn't spot Buffy, but heard her string of rejoinders, announcing that she was systematically dusting her vampires.  But there was no sign of Angel through the maze of moving bodies and flying fists.

"Angel?" she called out between ducks and parries.  When there was no immediate answer, her calm façade began to crack.  "Angel!"  Willow listened for any sound of his voice, but all she could decipher were some muffled grunts that could be coming from almost anyone.  Twisting toward the sound, Willow missed a short jab from her opponent and took it squarely on the side of her head.

Her ears were ringing from the force of the blow when Buffy's voice came back over the commotion.  "He's here, Willow."  Willow was so relieved she almost forgot about the vampires around her.  "He just keeps...taking a fist to the mouth anytime he tries...to open it..." the Slayer finished.

Finding a renewed energy at the news, Willow landed a jump-scissors kick to a cart-wheeling female vamp that knocked her on her ass.  The moment the vampire sprang back up, Willow's stake was ready and waiting.  Before the dust could settle, another vampire was upon her, delivering another harsh blow to the same side of her head.  Her ears still ringing, Willow blocked yet another blow to her head with a forearm, spinning just in time to sidekick a vampire that had been hoping to sneak up on her.

Willow's confidence began to waver.  In the beginning, she'd had no doubt that they could handle the vampires, but as their numbers never seemed to dwindle, Willow was growing weary and starting to worry.  Despite the fact that the vampires seemed the polite sort, quite happy to wait their turn instead of attacking her all at once, Willow was quite proud of how she'd managed up to this point.  It had felt good to work off a little steam, but now...her body was starting to ache, her head throbbed, and her stomach was churning, making it hard to focus.  The fight was becoming a blur.

"Hold on a second," Willow grumbled as a familiar, albeit slightly hazy, looking fanged face moved in on her.  The vampire had sandy hair and a plethora of freckles.  "Didn't I just dust you about five vamps ago or do you have an ugly twin brother that was also stupid enough to get vamped?"

The moment she said it, she knew she should have kept her mouth shut.  The vampires that had previously only been giving her a good workout suddenly turned pit bull on her.  The kicks came twice as fast, the punches packed twice the power, and they were no longer politely waiting their turn to pummel her.

While exchanging blows with a female vampire who had obviously taken makeup lessons from Tammy Fae Baker, Willow was abruptly grabbed from behind.  Long nails gouged through the sleeves of her crocheted top and into the soft flesh near her wrists, ripping up the length of her arms.

With an angry cry of pain, Willow thrust her elbow back into the vampire's midsection, doubling him over, before spinning to grab him behind the head and shove him down into her upward-thrusting knee.  Before the vampire toppled to the ground, clutching a broken jaw, it was dust.

The overdone female vampire gave Willow no time to revel in her victory or nurse her wounds, however, before redoubling her efforts.

"Why the bloody hell are you all focusing on me?" Willow muttered under her breath, as she flipped the female vampire to the ground, then quickly twisted to kick the next in the face with punishing force.  She staked the prone one, who was stupid enough to lie there in awe at the height of Willow's kick, then turned back to the one with the bleeding nose.

Willow didn't have any more time to wonder what she'd done to deserve the wrath of every vampire in the tri-county area.  For everyone she dispatched, another appeared, and to be honest, her training rarely entailed fending off more than two attackers at a time, three at the most.  They were coming so fast now that Willow's dizziness multiplied.  After delivering blow after blow, inner block after outer block, jumping roundhouse kick after axe kick, she was having trouble catching her breath.  The ground seemed wobbly, the air unstable somehow.  She faltered.

Apparently sensing her weakness, the vaguely familiar vampire closest to her made his move.  She fended off his first two punches with only mild difficulty, but was caught off guard by a lightning-quick leg sweep.  Already light-headed, Willow collapsed hard onto her back, losing what little breath she had left in a painful gasp.

The vampire pounced.  Crowing in dark triumph, he shoved her head to the side, exposing her neck.  Running on instinct only, Willow abruptly thrust upward with her hips.  At the same time, she pushed sideways at his chest with one hand while feeling for her dropped stake with the other.  Just as Angel had been that time they'd sparred together, this vampire was completely off center, and therefore fairly easy to dispel to the side.  She thrust the vampire off of her with what little strength remained, rolled, and was just going to ram the stake deep within its chest, when the vampire's already fading grin of victory morphed into a shocked grimace.  With the vampire's chest still a good half inch from the tip of her stake, he imploded into a cloud of ashes, revealing the blurry face of her rescuer.

"You all right, Red?"

Collapsing on to her back, Willow blinked up at the figure hovering above her, but she had to squeeze her eyes shut as another bout of dizziness and nausea threatened to overcome her.

A familiar cool hand stroked her cheek and neck.  "Come on, Red.  Talk to me."

"Spike?" she croaked, barely above a whisper. She let the stake slip from her fingers before clutching at his duster, anything to stop the world from spinning.

"Where are you hurt, Willow?  Did that vamp get his fangs in you?"

Willow pried her eyes open again, her vision still swimming, her stomach faring little better.  Willow could plainly see the worry on Spike's face, even through his wrinkles and fangs and her own bleary vision.  His amber eyes, heavy with concern, held hers.

"That's it, pet," he said in a soothing tone when she managed a weak smile.  "Tell Spike where the bastards hurt you."

Willow opened her mouth to reply just as another vampire came leaping into view.  Releasing his lapels, she squeaked a warning, but Spike didn't even have to turn away from her to deal with the demon.  With one hand he caught the lunging vampire by his neck, slamming him to the ground before ramming a stake through his chest.

Without losing a beat, he repeated more urgently, "Tell me where they hurt you, Red.  Did they bite you?  Can you bloody breathe or not?"

"I-I'm okay, Spike," she tried to reassure him while at the same time shaking her head to clear it.  "Just very...dizzy.  I guess those blows to my head were worse than I thought."  The energy it took to utter those few words sapped her strength.  She had to close her eyes yet again and breathe deeply.  As she centered herself, she also became vaguely aware that the others were calling her name, their voices raised in various levels of concern.  Xander's was panicked, Buffy's angry, and even Cordelia sounded unusually worried.  Angel's deep, calming tones, however, were conspicuously absent.

"Angel?"  Her eyes flew open just in time to see Spike dusting yet another vampire while barely leaving her side.  She didn't try to hide the sharp edge of panic in her voice.  "Angel?" she called more loudly, trying to lever herself up into some sort of sitting position.  She wanted to let her friends know she wasn't seriously hurt, but more importantly, she had to reassure herself that they were okay as well.  But Spike's gentle hand on her shoulder eased her back to the damp ground.

"Stay down, Red.  Still a few of the thicker-headed vamps prancing about."  His jovial demeanor faltered.  "I swear, if one more of these bloody wankers comes near you, I'll rip its head off with my bare hands!"  The way he raised his voice, Willow assumed his words were meant more as a warning to the vampires than they were a reassurance for her.

Despite Spike insistence that she stay down, Willow managed a sitting position on her second try.  From what she could tell, the number of vampires had decreased sharply, and the few that remained were now focused on the others.

She still couldn't make out Angel in the flurry of activity.  "Spike, can you see Angel?"

Spike's yellowed eyes flashed an even deeper shade of amber before narrowing on her.  His lips puckered with annoyance.  "They're *all* fine, Red.  The whole pathetic lot.  Now lie back down before you heave all over the leather."

Willow took a deep breath and slowly let it out.  "I'm fine," she lied, looking about slowly so as not to trigger another bout of vertigo.  She wanted to see Angel.

But instead of the dark vampire or any member of the Scooby Gang catching her eye, three men did instead.  They appeared to be watching the action from an old gazebo a safe distance away.  Willow was tempted to motion for them to flee for their lives, but she stayed her hand, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to their presence just in case the vampires decided they needed easier prey.  She was also afraid that something as simple as a wave of her hand would set the world to spinning again.  Vaguely she wondered what the three men must be thinking.  Were they chalking up the scuffle to the mysterious rival gangs of Sunnydale, which according to the police and the newspaper were behind all the darker goings on in Sunnydale?  Her musings were cut short as a vampire landed at her feet--one with big hair, an out-of-fashion black jacket and a slender leather tie.  She could have sworn that she'd staked this one at least twice already.  Exactly how hard had she been hit? she wondered, just as Spike happily plunged a stake into its heart, covering Willow's black Keds with a sprinkling of dust.

When she glanced back up at the humans, wondering what they made of the vampire's sudden disintegration, they were gone.

Smarter than they looked, she figured.  Or maybe they just had somewhere more important to be.  In her clouded mind, it seemed like the shorter one of the three kept checking his watch.

"If you wanted to see me, Red, you could have called," Spike said with a teasing lilt that didn't quite mask his concern.  Taking Willow's hands to gently ease her to her feet, Spike added in a gruffer tone: "Don't have to get yourself killed just to get my attention!"

Willow's eyes were on the group of fighters in the distance, anxiously checking on their condition.  From what she could see, they appeared tired and disheveled but otherwise fine.  She lingered on Angel as he exchanged punches with two vampires.  The relief she felt at the sight of him eased some of her own aches and pains.

"You could have shared that bit of info with me about a century ago, Spike.  Would have saved us both a lot of trouble," she murmured, her eyes still locked on Angel, who was now down to only one opponent.  The simple act of speaking made her sway on her feet.  Spike steadied her before turning her to face him.

With an eye on the others, who appeared to be wrapping up their various fights and desperate to get to Willow, he said, "They're managing fine, pet, now that I'm here."  He took her gently by the wrists, eyeing the long rips in her sleeves.  "Now, let's see the damage, Red, before your pals decide to rescue you."

With her back to Angel and company, Willow offered him a weak smile and held her breath as she delicately pushed up the thin sleeves of her knit top to survey the damage.

There was nothing.  Not even a scratch to mar her soft ivory skin.  Spike seemed as surprised as she was.  His amazement brought him closer, and he ran a single finger gently up the inside of each arm, from wrist to elbow.

"As I was running over, I could've sworn they got you, Red," he said, giving her another visual once over.

Willow frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion.  She could have sworn they'd got her too.  That blow to her head must have really been something!  "I guess not." Willow held her arms up for display one more time before pulling her tattered sleeves back down and shrugging.  "Guess they had weak nails.  Maybe they didn't get enough calcium in their diets."

Buffy was the first to manage to break away from the vampires and run to Willow's aid.  As if on cue, Xander, Cordelia, and Angel were able to stake their last opponents as well and quickly followed suit, with Angel only a couple of steps behind the Slayer.  As he ran, the image of Willow falling to the ground played repeatedly in his mind.

He'd been engaged in a fierce battle of his own and had just been able to discern Willow in the distance, fighting for her life and then crumpling to the ground.  An icy chill, more bitter than any winter wind, had enveloped him when he realized there was no way he could get to her in time, even if he hadn't been fending off four vampires.  None of them could.

And then Spike had appeared, like an avenging angel coming to Willow's rescue yet again.  Although relieved that Willow was safe, Angel had found the look on Spike's face as he hovered over Willow's prone form to be far from angelic.  Even from a distance, Spike appeared more than simply concerned about Willow.  He seemed desperate, enraged, and uncertain all at the same time.

As he raced across the distance which separated them, Angel repeatedly reminded himself that Spike had in fact saved Willow.  Again.

"Get away from her, Spike!" Buffy shouted as she neared.

Hearing their approach, Willow smiled wearily at Spike, as if to say, "Here we go again."  Willow retreated a few steps from the vampire and into the path of her rapidly approaching friends.

Spike, as usual, didn't quite cooperate with Willow's plan to avoid conflict at all costs.  "You're a little late, aren't you, Slayer?" he taunted.

"I am *SO* not in the mood for you tonight, Spike," Buffy said as she came to a halt in front of Willow.  "Are you okay, Willow?  What did Spike do to you?"

"Spike saved me, actually," Willow insisted vehemently, stepping in front of the Slayer yet again when she tried to move toward Spike.  She turned a pleading look to Angel as he joined them, his battered face clouded with uneasiness.  "Didn't he, Angel?  Didn't Spike save me?" she asked in a voice that seemed to come from a long way off, as she lightly caressed his bruised and bloodied face with her eyes.  By the look of him, it seemed that he'd borne the brunt of the vampires' fury.

"Yeah, didn't I, daddy dearest?" Spike sneered, edging closer to Willow.

Angel's bloodied lips thinned with hostility.  "It would appear so."

Buffy quickly surveyed Willow, Spike, and Angel, as if searching for clues to explain the odd turn of events.  "Not that I'm ungrateful, but why, Spike?" she asked suspiciously, still holding her stake poised and at the ready.  "How do I know those weren't just your vampires, and this was all some sick scheme to make you look good, although I don't know why you'd bother."

"Those weren't my minions, Slayer.  Never laid eyes on that ugly lot before."

"Uh-huh," Buffy said without conviction.  "Again, not that we aren't grateful that Willow's okay, but *why*?"

Spike frowned just a bit, his lips pursing as he tried to come up with some sort of excuse.  The puzzled look changed to a haughty one.  He drew himself up, shoving his hands in his coat pockets and assuming a carefree pose.

"Well, I've, uh, had my eye on Red, haven't I?"

Angel could almost hear Buffy counting to ten, albeit very rapidly.  "So we've noticed," she retorted in clipped tones.

"Your disgustingly unhealthy eye, I might added," Xander interjected, bringing a groan from Buffy and Cordelia.

"Again, I have to ask *why*?" Buffy repeated.

Spike winked at Willow before flashing Buffy his swarmiest smirk.  "Well, she's mine, isn't she?"

Xander shook his head, obviously not wanting to believe what he'd just heard.  "She's yours?"

"She will be," Spike said with a nonchalant shrug.  "Some day.  And I don't appreciate a bunch of fledges feeling up my property, not to mention whatever else they had in mind for her."

"Your property?" Buffy and Willow said in wide-eyed unison.  To Angel's delight, Willow sounded even more annoyed than Buffy did at Spike's decree.  Spike must have noticed it as well, because he took a couple of swaggering steps closer to the annoyed redhead, whose hands were already on her hips, her fingers tapping an impatient rhythm.

"Property as in something that I plan on taking care of, keeping safe, treasuring even," Spike elaborated in what Angel could only describe as a husbandly tone.  As if sensing Angel's silent ridicule, Spike's voice took on more insidious overtones.  "Not that macho-demon 'do what I say or else' sort of property that *some* of your less sophisticated children-of-the-night types might try to pull."

"Oh, I, for one," Xander began, advancing on Spike, "feel so much better knowing that Spike, the *vampire*, wants to *take care* of and *treasure* Willow."

"And well you should!" Spike retorted, darting a caustic look towards the dark-haired youth.  "Who's going to take care of her if I'm not?  You?" Then dismissing Cordelia with barely a glance in her direction, he turned to Buffy.  "You've got problems enough of your own, oh Chosen One, and you..." he added, finally gracing Angel with a glare all his own.  Spike was mutinous, his eyes sparking with an ancient hatred that Angel could almost feel. "Where the bloody hell were you when Willow was fending off a dozen vamps?  The mighty Angel too afraid to muss the hair and get little dirty?  Willow was almost killed!  If I'd been one moment later--"

"What, 'fraid they'd kill her before you had the chance to do it yourself?" Xander interjected before Angel could even feel the full effect of Spike's verbal blow.

Spike spun back around so quickly that he was a blur to everyone but Angel, and what Angel saw on the other vampire's face sent a shiver down his spine, settling in his stomach like an icy weight.  Xander's accusation had struck a chord with the blond vampire, but Spike recovered quickly and the face he showed to Willow was much cooler.  He was giving Willow his 'why the hell do you put up with these morons?' kind of look, when Buffy obviously decided she'd had enough.

"Take one step closer to her, Spike," Buffy announced as she moved between the two before Willow could stop her, "and you'll never take another!"

"Temper, temper, Slayer," Spike clucked, wagging a finger at Buffy's raised stake.  "Don't forget a certain little prophecy that insists on keeping me dust-free."  He grinned.  "God I love prophecies, don't you?"

"Who said I was aiming for your heart, Spike?" Buffy sneered, purposely looking at a spot much lower on the vampire.

"Is this how you people thank me for saving Red's life?  Don't tell me gratitude's gone by the wayside since we were gone," Spike muttered, shifting uncomfortably.  "Today's youth are so rude..."

Willow peered at Spike over Buffy's shoulder, ready to restrain Buffy from behind if necessary. "Spike, while I, er, appreciate your helping me out tonight, don't you have somewhere else to be right now?"  For his own safety, if not for the safety of her secret, Willow hoped he took the hint.  The look on Angel's face was murderous, and Willow could almost see him shaking with restraint.  Spike, being Spike however, couldn't seem to leave well enough alone.

"And leave your safety to this pathetic lot?" he laughed.  "Not bloody likely, pet.

Willow shook her head wearily and rubbed at her throbbing temples.  "It is *not* your job to look out for me," Willow reminded him in a voice roughened with impatience.  But the pleading look she gave him was much softer.  Please leave, she silently begged.  Before you get hurt.

Luckily, this time Spike seemed to hear her silent plea loud and clear because he suddenly said: "Right.  Well.  I'll be off then, shall I?"  With his hands deep in his pockets, the vampire spun around to leave.  Then, in true Spike fashion, he turned back to add, "Guess I'm like one of those flash comic book heroes, eh?"  He was walking backwards now, grinning devilishly in the Autumn moonlight.  "I rush in, save the day, er night, 'n the nick of time, then disappear before the damsel in distress can thank me...*properly*..." he added with a knowing smirk.

It wasn't easy, but Willow somehow managed not to giggle.  She didn't, however, keep the smile from lighting up her face.

Xander wasn't smiling.  "Listen up, Deadly Do-Wrong," he called after the vampire.  "No damsel in distress in her right mind would want you within ten yards of her!"

Spike stopped his retreat, pausing as if trying to decide exactly what to say.  Willow held her breath, not sure if the vampire could manage to control himself this time.  Xander had given Spike the perfect set up.

"Is that so?" Spike eventually retorted, his lips still twitching.  "Some damsels," he began, bowing his head slightly at Willow, "whether distressed or not, prefer me much, *much* closer, boy."

"Spike, leave!  Now!" Angel commanded, trying to stop Spike before he said too much.

Spike quirked a brow, but the smirk stayed right where it was.  "I'd forgotten you were here, Angelus, but then...that happens to you a fair bit, doesn't it?"

"Why can't we just stake him already?" Cordelia finally groaned, gathering everyone's attention after her lengthy silence.  "I mean, is there anything more irritating than a vampire that can't take a hint?"

When they looked back, Spike was gone, but his dark laughter came drifting back from the shadows.  "That's a bloody good question, *Angelus*."

With his departure, everyone breathed a sigh of relief that sounded suspiciously like 'Finally!'  Everyone but Willow, that is.  While she was happy to get the vampire away from this particular situation, over the last two months they'd probably only seen each other a handful of times, and frankly, she missed him.

From the looks of everyone else, especially Angel, the feeling wasn't shared.  "Deadly Do Wrong?" Buffy repeated, grinning at Xander.  "That's a good one.  I'd been thinking 'Lonely Ranger' myself, but I like yours better."

They all turned to Willow.  "You okay, Willow?" Buffy asked.  "You look woozy and wobbly."
"Most of the wooziness is gone...I'll be fine."

"Not surprising after the fight you were in," Xander added, giving her a quick visual once over himself. "While I didn't actually see much of your fight, Willow, I take it you did at least as well as Cordy and I.  We kicked some serious ass tonight, didn't we, baby?"

"Serious enough that I'm going to let the 'baby' comment slide for tonight," Cordelia said with her usual regal flair.

Willow nodded.  At least as well?  Bloody hell, she grumbled silently.  I probably fought ten times as many vampires as you, but not a single person noticed how well I did.  All they noticed is that Spike saved me.  Wonderful.  So much for my 'Most Improved Combat Skills' Scooby of the Year Award.

As if sensing her darkening mood, Buffy touched Angel's arm.  "Angel, why don't you get Willow home.  I want to ask around, see if I can figure out where all of these out-of-town vamps came from, if Spike was telling the truth."

"On your own?"

"Don't worry, Angel.  If there are more, I'm not going to fight them, just find out where they are, for now."

"Cordy and I've got your back, Buff," Xander chimed in, taking the cheerleader's hand.

"If you see anything, call me, and if you run into trouble, anything like what just happened, I want you to run, understand?"  Angel's tone brooked no argument, and they reluctantly muttered their assent.

Willow started to protest then thought better of it.  The fight had not only left her sore, but feeling drained and a little nauseous.  But that didn't mean she was ready to go home yet, and it wasn't like anyone was there waiting for her.

Her parents had returned several weeks earlier, as expected, and after a tearful reunion (at least on Willow's side) life in the Rosenberg household had returned to what Willow assumed was normal.  Other than a few more references to her friends Bunny and Angel than she was comfortable with, Willow's home life seemed little different than it had been before.  And before Willow knew it, Sheila and Ira were gone again, this time to lead a two-week long conference in Buffalo.  They wouldn't be back for several days yet and knowing them would probably leave again soon thereafter.

"I am tired, Angel," she said, exaggerating her weariness and massaging her temples for added effect.  "If you wouldn't mind?"

Angel raised a surprised brow but said nothing.

After bidding the others good-bye and telling them to be careful, she and Angel had walked more than a block before he broke the silence.  "So, where are we *actually* going?"

Willow winced.  Obviously, Angel still had the ability to see through her poker face on occasion.  "Am I that obvious?" she asked, coming to a stop under a streetlight.

Turning to face the redhead, Angel stilled as he took a long appraising look at Willow.  Obvious was not a word he associated with Willow.  Passionate, intelligent, funny...and so many others, but not obvious.  Tonight, despite her slightly bedraggled appearance and the harsh artificial glow of the streetlight humming overhead, she looked exceptionally beautiful.  Of course, she always looked beautiful.  Even when sitting cross-legged before the computer, wearing sweats, and nibbling on the end of a pencil, Angel found her achingly attractive.  But the night seemed to suit her now, even more than before.  Angel couldn't quite put his finger on it, but when they were on patrol together, Willow was not the same woman who sat across from him doing research for hours on end.

"Angel?  I, er, guess I need to sharpen my poker skills a bit if you could tell I was lying that easily."

Caught staring, Angel hastened to explain. "It's not even midnight, Willow.  You're usually just getting your second wind about now."

She grinned sheepishly up at him.  "That's true.  I'm still the night owl."  She paused, as if making a decision then glanced over her shoulder before looking at him again.  Her face was serious now.  "There was something strange about that fight, those vampires, and I thought I'd go talk to Giles and Jenny about it."

Angel didn't say a word.  He pulled out his cellphone and called the librarian, asking if he and Jenny could meet them at his place.  There was a pause, and while she couldn't quite make out what Giles said, Angel's answer gave it away.  "We were ambushed, and although everyone's fine, the vampires seemed to be focusing on Willow."  He paused, listening, then nodded.  "Yes.  The others are checking the usual sources, but promised they'd be careful."  Another pause.  "See you at my place in ten."

"You noticed that too, huh?  That I was some sort of vampire magnet tonight?" Willow asked after he'd tucked the tiny phone back in his pocket.

Angel was hard pressed not to smirk at her choice of words.  "I'm sorry I didn't...that I couldn't get to you sooner, Willow."

Willow waved the words away before he could even finish.  "You *were* just a little occupied at the time, Angel," she said with an understanding smile.

That was no excuse.  On patrol, they were his responsibility.  Gritting his teeth at the thought of what could have happened, Angel said, "But I should have--"

Words of contrition were suddenly forgotten as a jolt of sensation so sweet that it nearly brought tears to Angel's eyes tore through him, body and soul.  Without warning, Willow had reached up to tenderly caress his swollen jaw.  "Look at what they did to you..." she whispered.  She lifted up on her toes, bringing her concerned face even closer.  "Does it hurt?" she asked, stroking the bruise above his eye.

It had until a moment ago, Angel thought through a warm haze.  But if getting the shit kicked out of me is what it takes for you to bring yourself to touch me, then I'll let them pummel me every night...twice on Tuesdays.

Afraid he'd scare her away, Angel kept his thoughts to himself and his tone light, as if he barely noticed that the woman of his dreams was making love to his face with her fingers.  "Our vampire friends...also seemed particularly interested in...keeping me quiet and away from you," he managed, his mouth suddenly dry.  "And the only way they could do that was by...keeping a fist in my mouth."  He had to stop and swallow again as Willow's touch drifted down his cheek to the bloodied corner of his mouth.  "Not to mention a few elbows, heads, and one really big foot."

Seemingly innocent of the effect her touch was having, Willow tenderly cradled his jaw in one hand as she dabbed lightly at his cut lip with the end of her sleeve.

It was almost too much to bear.  "W-willow, don't..."  It was a weak protest at best.  He didn't even really try to pull away.  The last thing Angel wanted was for Willow to stop touching him, the tender look in her eyes to disappear.

Willow pursed her lips as she stubbornly continued to tend his slowly healing wounds.  "Don't be such a baby, Angel," she said in a patronizing tone.  "It's only blood."

Only blood? he moaned to himself.  Talk about a vampiric oxymoron!  If it's only blood, then why am I fighting this hunger to taste every inch of your body with my lips, tongue, and yes, my teeth?  Damn good question! he thought, but forced himself to focus on her upturned face instead of his lustful thoughts.  That's when he noticed the smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  She'd been teasing him, knowing fully well what blood meant to vampires.  And now she'd abandoned the edge of her sleeve and was using her fingers to wipe away the remaining traces of blood, her warm flesh skimming dangerously close to his lips.  It would be so easy to part his lips and taste her....

Before Angel could give in to that particular temptation, Willow slowly drew her hand away to look at it.

Only blood? Angel mused again.  Then why was she staring in fascination at her stained fingertips?  Her lips were moist as she studied the crimson drops more closely, his blood, and for the headiest of moments, Angel thought she intended to lick her fingers clean.

As if reading his mind, Willow's lifted her eyes to his.  Her teasing smile was gone now, replaced by a look of wonder, as if just now realizing what she'd been doing to him.  At that moment, it occurred to Angel if she could touch him for medicinal purposes, then perhaps he could reciprocate without breaking the spell.

Entranced as Willow was at the sight of Angel's blood against her skin, it was nothing compared to how she felt when she looked into his warm, brown eyes.  Eyes like hot cocoa.  No...the brown was deeper than cocoa, thicker, more substantial like chocolate syrup.  No!  Hot fudge!  His eyes were the color of hot, melted fudge.  When tantalizing images of drizzled hot fudge and naked bodies suddenly popped into her head, Willow knew she was in trouble.  What was it with her and chocolate and vampires anyway?  Needing to look away from his eyes before she drowned in them, she studied her red-tinged fingers again.  If blood was to vampires what chocolate was to her...Hmmm...Was Angel as hungry at that moment as she was?

"You fought well, Willow," he murmured thickly, and the sudden feel of his hand against her cheek made her forget the blood and grip his sweater with both hands to steady herself.  "You only have a few faint bruises."

Only a few? she thought fleetingly as he caressed each bruise along her hairline.  Shame I'm not bruised all over!  Although his touch was tender, it was far from soothing.  Instead of relaxing her, his cool caresses were setting her aflame, awaking old aches and needs she'd been trying to ignore for years.  Between his touch and the image of him drizzled in hot fudge, Willow felt like reality was slipping away.  And that part of her, the one with the chocolate vampire fetish, was in no hurry for it to return.

She forced her mind to work, but she couldn't summon the strength or even the desire to completely break the spell.  "Well, I...er...until the end..." she stammered, her eyes drifting shut as his fingers worked their magick through her hair, "they didn't...really seem out for chocolate...I mean blood!" she added quickly.  "It's like they...just wanted a little exercise..." she said in a dreamy voice.  She swore she could smell chocolate in the air, and she gripped his shirt even more tightly.

"Where else do you ache, Willow?"

All over! she wanted to scream, not even sure he'd really spoken such tempting words.  I've been aching all over for so long!

Hoping she wasn't blushing from her wicked thoughts, Willow shook her head ever so slightly in answer.  Still, Angel's sensual comfort continued.  His cool hands drifted down her neck, dancing over her delicate throat.  She leaned further into his touch, letting her mind empty of any thought of protest.  Even when his fingers explored her throat, coming to rest gingerly on her pulse point, she wasn't afraid, she only wanted more.  It was like a dream, and for a hazy moment she was reminded of a vivid daydream she'd once had about Angelus brushing her hair.  At the time it had seemed as real as this did.

"I'm so sorry...I'm sorry that I-I couldn't get to you, Willow."  His voice was suddenly tight with remorse.  "I tried...."

It took a moment to detect the pain in his voice, but when she did, Willow's eyes flew open.  He was staring down at her throat, specifically the scars she bore, and wore a look that instantly brought Willow out of her sensual reverie.  Guilt.  It gave an edge to his voice, strained the musculature of his face and shadowed his eyes.  Recoiling from the vampire that suddenly sounded and looked too much like the old Angel, *Buffy's* Angel, she jerked her hands away from where they had rested, splayed across his chest.

"I know, Angel," she said quickly, forgetting all her wicked chocolatey thoughts.  Willow stepped away from the vampire, breaking the contact between them, and he made no move to stop her.  "You had your, um, hands full, and I really think they were just toying with us, trying to keep us busy.  Maybe they were simply studying our fighting style?"

Angel wanted to stake himself for ruining the moment, but the sight of his marks on her throat, however erotic, reminded him how close Willow had come to being bitten, or worse, by those other vampires.  She'd been hurt because of his failure, and here he was, taking advantage of her weakened state.  Angelus would be so proud.

"The one who knocked you down wasn't simply trying to keep you busy, Willow," Angel said brusquely.  "Or study you."

Willow nodded in agreement, then hastened to resume their journey back towards Slayer Central.  "What happened back there was very strange, Angel," she said after a while, trying to fill the awkward silence.

It's called physical attraction, Willow, Angel thought to himself.  And I was taking advantage of you.

"There was more to that attack than meets the eye," Willow went on, unknowingly correcting Angel's unspoken thoughts.

"We'll see if Jenny or Giles has any ideas."

Using her peripheral vision, she could see that Angel's face had become void of all expression.  "I'm sorry about, um...about Spike...his comments..." Willow blurted out in order to fill the uncomfortable silence.  She'd meant to apologize for her own wanton behavior but couldn't seem to make the words come out.

Unfortunately, her apology on Spike's behalf had the opposite effect than what she'd been aiming for.  "You don't have to apologize for Spike," Angel replied stiffly.  She was always defending the selfish bastard.  "He's my responsibility, not yours."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," she replied lightly, but Angel didn't share her carefree attitude.  As far as he was concerned, Spike was his responsibility.  Whether Spike was actually his William or not, the blond vampire was still a childe of Angelus in one incarnation or another.  The product of his teachings, as Spike had so gleefully reminded him.  Which meant that in some ways, Angel was responsible for Spike's actions.  Even the pain Spike had already caused Willow, not to mention the pain that Angel expected was yet to come, was in many ways his own fault.

Sensing the shift in Angel's mood since their intimate moment, Willow decided to let the silence between them remain.  Besides, no wonder he was moody!  What had she been thinking, touching him like that anyway?  And the blood comments?  Why didn't she just offer up her neck if she wanted to be that blatant about her attraction for the vampire?  Slice open a vein?  And oh God!  What if Angel had--to use his own words--detected 'love in the air' when he'd touched her?  Her cheeks flamed at the notion that Angel might actually know just how wicked her thoughts had been.  Obviously, her behavior had made Angel uncomfortable, and he blamed Spike for her warped sexual nature, which wasn't exactly fair.  It wasn't Spike's fault she was attracted to Angel.  It was Angel's...and Angelus's...but especially her own.

Willow bit her lip to keep from groaning aloud.  God, I hope there's still some of that double chocolate fudge ice cream in Angel's freezer!

They walked the remainder of the way in relative silence, both too busy berating themselves for their earlier behavior. As they finally approached the old church, Angel latched onto Willow's arm, pulling her to a gentle stop.  "We've got company."

Near the short flight of steps that led to the church's curved front doors, they could make out a shadowy figure.

"Didn't you say that Giles and Jenny were going to meet us here?" Willow whispered.

"They have keys, and I don't see Giles' car."

Angel was just about to tell Willow to stay put until he knew who the visitor was, when the flickering glow of a lighter suddenly lit up Spike's face.

"What kept you two?" he called out through an exhale of smoke.  "Stop to look for the soulful one's spine along the way?"

*****

Giles pulled into an empty parking space in front of the old church and was surprised to see Willow, Angel, and especially Spike standing outside.  The vampires appeared to be having a rather heated discussion while a resigned-looking Willow looked on.  As he and Jenny climbed out of the car, Willow met them in the middle of Angel's front lawn.  He wasn't quite sure if her tight smile of greeting stemmed more from relief or embarrassment.

"Thanks for coming so quickly," Willow said as she joined them.  "Although I'm sorry to ruin your evening."

"Oh, well, that's quite all right, Willow."  The librarian was hardly able to tear his sight away from the vampires.  One quick glance at Jenny told him that she was equally surprised by the bickering vampires.  "Given what's happened, it seemed best that we..."  He trailed off.  If he wasn't mistaken, Spike had just made a derogatory comment about Angel's lineage, which in turn made Angel stoop to similarly childish insults.  The thought that two vampires of their age would resort to such schoolyard behavior was almost comical.  At any moment he was expecting them to be sticking their tongues out at each other.

Jenny flicked an indigo-tipped finger at the combative vampires.  "How long has this been going on?"

Willow turned to eye the squabbling pair for a moment, then turned back.  "A couple of centuries, from what I can tell."  Her words came out as a sigh, making her sound even more exhausted than she looked.  "Although we're only just into the first round of tonight's bout.  Angel and I just arrived a minute or two before you did."

"Then the bruises on Angel's face--"

"Are not Spike's doing," Willow quickly supplied, looking the librarian firmly in the eye.  "The vampires we ran into tonight were pretty rough on Angel."

Giles paused and tightened his grip on his leather satchel.  Although Willow had been back a couple of months, he was still somewhat taken aback whenever she spoke up on Spike's behalf.  It was difficult for him to equate the vampire that he'd read about in his journals and battled against on more than one occasion, with this new Spike, Willow's 'friend'.  She seemed saddened by the sight of the two squabbling vampires instead of irritated or amused, which made him want to bang the vampires' heads together and make them see that their childish behavior was the last thing Willow needed right now.

Over the course of the last couple of months, he and Jenny had tried their best to help Willow become at ease with her new life.  They realized it would take time.  She'd been gone for over a century.  It was understandable that it would take more than a couple of weeks, even months, to adjust to all of the changes.  The best they could do was give her their friendship, which came easily enough, and the opportunity to truly be herself when they were away from the others.  Frequently they invited her over for tea or dinner, and while they always had a good time and enjoyed each other's company, Giles still had the impression that Willow was holding back.  Not even with them, adults relatively closer to her actually age, did Willow seem completely at ease.

And to think, he'd actually been encouraged by Willow's enthusiasm for Friday night patrols.  He'd watched Willow keep herself detached from the others, especially Angel, often only going through the motions of everyday life, but lately whenever patrol was concerned, he'd caught glimpses of the woman behind the mask.  The light at the end of the tunnel, or so it had seemed.  Unfortunately, as is so often the case, tonight at least the light at the end of the tunnel had been a speeding locomotive, and Willow had been caught on the tracks.

Giles squeezed the bridge of his nose and then studied the redhead again.  He wasn't surprised that tonight she seemed even less carefree than usual, but he was concerned about the faint yellowish bruising along the side of her face.  She also appeared pale, and her tired green eyes were glassier than he would have liked.  He exchanged a worried look with Jenny.

"Looks as if you took a beating as well, Willow," Jenny said, voicing both their concerns.

Willow didn't turn from watching the vampires.  "I'm okay," she said with a shrug.

Giles disagreed, and was about to inspect her wounds a little more closely when Spike spoke up.

"Don't let the chit fool you, Watcher."  The blond vampire was stalking toward them, and Giles found himself taking an involuntary step away from redhead.  The look in Spike's eyes wasn't simply predatory; it was outright territorial.  "Red's hurting," Spike continued, stepping between him and Willow.  "She's just too bloody stubborn to let it show."

The territorial look may have startled Giles, but he was hardly surprised by it.  Vampires were notoriously possessive, after all.  Nevertheless, the simple fact that it was the vampire norm, didn't make him feel any better when the object of the nefarious vampire's attention was Willow.  Angel's dark brooding in the background wasn't exactly comforting either.  Giles barely recognized Angel when he was like this, and he had a feeling it wasn't simply Spike's presence which had the Irish vampire silently seething.

Giles turned his watchful eye back to the blond vampire.  "Yes, well, thank you for your...opinion on the matter...er, Mr. Spike." Ignoring Willow's attempt to hide a smile at his choice of words, Giles went on.  "May I assume that your presence has something to do with what happened to Willow this evening?  Or is this merely a...social call?"

"Checking on Red, aren't I?  Since Angelus here almost got her killed, I wanted to make sure she was none the worse for wear."

Giles' attention, and that of everyone else, shifted back to Willow, and while she was touched by their concern, she hated the worried looks that darkened their faces.

"I'm okay.  Really!" Willow did a slow spin to convince them she was in one piece, hoping it wouldn't set her stomach and head spinning again.

"Willow, your sweater!" Jenny cried as she and Giles noticed the shredded sleeves of Willow's top. "Are you cut?  We better get you inside and clean--"

"No, I'm not cut.  Not even a scratch!"  Yet again, Willow pushed back her sleeves and held up her arms to show perfectly intact skin.  "See?"

Spike still seemed reluctant to believe her.  With his head tilted to the side, he moved closer to study her arms.  That's when Angel finally joined the group. He seemed almost as curious as Spike.  Bloody hell, she thought.  Didn't I just throw myself at him ten minutes ago?  If I'd been bleeding, he'd have noticed it then!

"But I could have sworn I smelled your blood earlier, pet," Spike said in an odd tone.  "I'd recognize it anywhere...very special vintage you've got running through those delicious veins of yours."

Tired of repeating herself and of their inspection, Willow pulled her torn sleeves back down.  "Nope, no cuts," she said through teeth gritted with frustration.  "Like I said before, those vamps must've had weak nails."

Spike lowered his voice, but she was sure that everyone still heard his words.  "Maybe you've got a visitor, then?"

Willow blinked at the grinning vamp.  "Visitor?"

"You know, your monthly visitor.  You women sometimes call it 'The Curse'...although I'm much more likely to call it dinner."

Angel seemed to get the other vampire's meaning first.  "You're disgusting, Spike."

Spike laughed at Angel's sanctimonious tone. "Oh, like you weren't thinking the same thing!  You may be a great bloody poof with a soul, but you're still a vamp, Angelus.  Still feel the call."  He turned back to Willow.  "You didn't have your *visitor* while the spell was in effect, since we were frozen in time and all."  He shrugged.  "Figured now that your mortal 'n all again...."

"Um, nope...no 'curse' here," Willow blurted out before Angel said anything.  "Not, er, yet, anyway."  She could feel her face turning all sorts of red at the personal nature of the discussion, but she doubted her face was quite as red as Giles' was at that moment.  Luckily, Jenny seemed to take it all in stride.  Willow vaguely wondered what it would take to shock the computer science teacher!

As Willow shot Spike a look that couldn't be mistaken for any meaning other than 'drop the subject or else,' she made a mental note to stock up on feminine supplies.  She hadn't had to deal with that particular curse in over a century, and while she hardly missed it, it was likely just a matter of time before her body fully readjusted to being 'normal' again.  Then, undoubtedly, her period would return with a vengeance, making up for its 135-year absence.  Wonderful.

Spike smirked, but his smile faded as he tactfully sniffed the air around her again.  "Still, I smell blood on you..."

Angel suddenly spoke up.  "The blood's mine," he said.

Spike appeared ready to ignore his claim, but then his nostrils flared and his eyes widened.  "Why's your bloody blood...?"  He shot them both an accusing look.  "Red?"

Willow almost smiled at the flabbergasted look of shock on Spike's face.  It wasn't easy to shock the vampire, and it seemed only fair after his little 'curse' discussion.  "Angel was bleeding, so I--"

"Played doctor?" Spike sneered, and Willow doubted that anyone listening in missed the true meaning of his insinuation.

"No, Spike," Willow groaned impatiently.  "As a matter of fact, *I* bit Angel.  Hard.  Several times.  Check his neck if you don't believe me.  I wondered what all the fuss was about, so I faked him out by pointing to the sky saying, 'What's that interesting thing over there?!'" she said dryly, and for the first time since encountering Spike that night, Angel actually smiled.  "Then when he fell for it and turned to look, I bit him."

Spike, however, was not smiling.  "That's not funny, Red," he growled.

"Then quit making such a big deal out of it!" Willow retorted.  "It's only blood.  Right, Angel?" If Angel hadn't grinned, she would have been embarrassed at taking the joke too far, but his grin had turned into a familiar lazy half-smile that was pure Angelus.  Her breath caught, and her mind filled with more naughty chocolate thoughts.

"Since I'm not going to get a straight answer out of Red, perhaps you'd care to tell me why she reeks of you?"

Reeks? Willow thought, latching on to his verbal slight in an effort to forget her imagination's lascivious wanderings.  It wasn't that much blood, hardly reek-worthy!

"As you said, I'm still a vampire...."

"A technicality only," Spike retorted.

As the bickering continued, none of the three noticed that Giles and Jenny had taken seats on the church steps.  With her chin resting on her hand, Jenny watched the trio in wide-eyed fascination.  Giles hastily grabbed a pad and pen out of his satchel and began to take notes. This was their first chance to really study the 'new' Spike and the interaction between the three.

Eager to avoid another verbal sparing match that could lead to a physical altercation, Willow turned on Spike.  "Did you come here to help me figure out what the hell just happened or to fight with Angel some more?"

His icy eyes shimmered as he paused to glance between Willow and Angel.  She could see the muscles working in his jaw, the unusual rigidity of his posture, and knew that he was struggling to remain calm.

"Figured they go together, Red," Spike finally retorted.  "If I knew you were that...*hard up* for attention--"

"Spike, not tonight, okay?"  Her anger was gone but the weariness was returning.  She felt guilty for teasing Spike when he was obviously so concerned about her.  "I'm not up for one of our discussions tonight.  Will you take a rain check?"

Spike visually softened.  "Must be in a bit of pain if you don't want to argue with me."  He moved closer and quickly scrutinized her posture.  "Sure you're okay, Red?"

"A little achy and woozy but no permanent damage."

"Where's it hurt?" he asked, frowning.

Willow rubbed at the muscles near her collarbone.  "Neck, shoulders...no big deal..."  She thought better of telling him that Angel had already soothed many of her wounds, and reopened a few emotional ones.

"Shoulders a mite sore, are they?"  Without asking, Spike firmly turned Willow away from him and began to expertly massage the aching areas she'd just mentioned.  "You're so tight, pet," he said in soothing tones, but the look he shot Angel was much more lascivious.  "Been over extending your punches again, haven't you?  Thought I'd taught you better.  Put your whole delectable little body into it, Red, not just your bloody arm or else you'll do yourself some real damage."

Despite the audience, Willow didn't pull away from Spike.  As he had often times before, his fingers instinctively found the source of her sore shoulder.  She doubted she could walk away from the relief he was offering even if she wanted to.  "I know, and I did...until the end.  I was getting so tired and dizzy I was swinging wildly at anything that moved."  She sighed.  "They just kept coming..."

"Relax for a bit, and I'll get you sorted out," he murmured near her ear.  "Do your fancy breathing, picture your funny place, and let Spike take care of the rest..."  Willow closed her eyes, letting her head come forward until her chin rested on her chest as muscle after muscle surrendered under Spike's gentle assault.

"Fascinating," Jenny whispered to Giles, who mumbled something under his breath and then wrote more quickly.

Angel growled softly at the display but held his ground.  He wasn't going to let Spike get to him this time, and as much as he hated to admit it, the other vampire really was helping Willow.  Angel could sense her relaxing already.  The trust she had in the blond vampire was astonishing and thought provoking, not to mention incredibly painful.  Angel couldn't help feeling jealous, and yet...she had let him comfort her as well.  Maybe it hadn't lasted as long as Spike's massage or ended particularly well, but Willow *had* let him touch her.  It was another good start.

After another minute of Spike's medicinal ministrations, Willow seemed to realize where she was.  Her eyes popped open and she took a step away from the blond vampire.  "Thanks Spike," she grinned back at him as she rotated her neck and shoulders.  "I feel better already."

"I still know every inch of your body, Red.  Anytime you want me to help you ease an ache, *any* ache at all, you know where to find me."

Instead of blushing, which was precisely what Jenny and Giles were doing, Willow simply shot Spike an impish grin.  It still amazed Angel how easily Willow handled Spike's cruder side.  She took it all in stride, dishing it out as easily as she took it.  "Yeah, on top of Drusilla," Willow retorted.

Spike chuckled  "Sometimes beneath.  You know what a gentleman I am."

"As, er, enlightening as this all is," Giles said, breaking into the light-hearted banter, "perhaps we should discuss that happened tonight?"

"Good call, Watcher."  Spike sauntered over to where Giles sat.  "What happened is that I saved Willow's life, again, because of the gross incompetence of The Great Poof over there."

"Spike, leave.  Now."  Damn! So much for my keeping my cool, Angel thought bitterly.  He hated how being around Spike took away his ability to speak in complete, coherent sentences.  All he seemed able to do was bark short orders and growl.

"Down boy!" Spike grinned, as if reading his mind.  "Starting to think you're a bit miffed that I got to save Willow's life *again* instead of you?  Worried that shining armor of yours is beginning to rust from lack of use?"

One of the last remaining threads of Angel's self-control snapped under Spike's continued taunting.

"Saved her life?"  With preternatural speed, Angel rushed Spike, grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pushed him against the brick church wall. "Why was her life in danger in the first place?" Angel hissed in his face.  They were nose-to-nose, and despite the fact that he seemed to have the upper hand, Spike was smirking at him with obvious delight.

"Need to learn to control that temper of yours, Angel.  Wouldn't want you to hurt anyone, would we?  I'm sure you've got enough to feel all guilty about for the next couple of centuries without adding my death to the list."

"You flatter yourself, Spike.  There'd be no guilt, only relief."  With disgust, Angel pushed him back against the wall one more time, then backed away.  He didn't see the uncharacteristic flash of pain that shadowed Spike's face for a moment.  By the time he turned back to the blond vampire, Spike had composed himself, the requisite twisted smile back in place.  "Has it ever occurred to you that the reason Willow was the center of this attack in the first place is because of you, Spike?  Because of your interest in her?"

The smirk quickly drained away.  "For your information, I've spread the word that Red's off limits!  Every vamp in this town, even Dru, knows better than to even look at her twice!"

Angel chuckled, shaking his head at Spike as if the blond vampire were a simpleton.  "And you expect them just to obey you?  Just for their love of you?  Maybe you've forgotten the way vampires think, Spike.  You, of all people, should know that they aren't prone to loyalty anymore.  They're power-hungry, and when they spot a weakness in one of the local big wigs, they'll take advantage of it.  Willow is your weakness, and you've made sure that every vampire in this town knows that!  Every demon in Sunnydale that wants to take your place knows exactly how to get to you now, Spike."  Angel glanced over at Willow, who'd at some point taken a seat next to Jenny on the steps.  He wasn't sure how Willow would handle his theory regarding why the vampires were centering on her, but if she were worried, she didn't let it show.

"Weren't you listening, mate?  Those were not *my* minions.  I know every vamp in this town, except the ones that may have been turned tonight, and I've never seen that lot before.  That means they're not from around here, are they?  Probably just dropped by on their way to LA to have a go at the Slayer."

"You think that's any better?  That means you've brought her to the attention of every vampire in the county, possibly the state or worse, knowing how much you like to shoot your mouth off."

Willow was trying very hard to stay out of the vampire's argument, at least physically, but it wasn't easy.  She hated watching them fight, especially over her.  There was nothing romantic about it. She glanced over at Giles and Jenny, who appeared enrapt with the whole discussion.  Willow felt as if she were in the middle of a soap opera that was a cross between Dark Shadows and Dallas.  It wasn't as much fun as it sounded.

"Want to know who put Willow in danger tonight?  Try looking in the bloody mirror, peaches," Spike said in a cold, accusing tone. He sighed and rolled his eyes, when Angel actually smirked at his word choice.  "Figuratively speaking, you bloody arse, not literally."  He narrowed his blue eyes at the larger vampire and clenched his jaw, seemingly close to losing his temper as well.  "*I'm* not the one putting her in danger, Angelus.  I'm not the one traipsing a bunch of non-slayer mortals through all the vamp-infested highways and byways of Sunnyhell, am I?  Let's get our roles straight.  I saved her.  *You* put her in danger, and *I* saved her...*again*!"

Willow'd had about all she could take for one night.  With what little energy she had left, Willow pushed off the steps and stormed up to the two vampires.  "Stop it!  Both of you, stop!"  Willow tried to push them apart with a hand on each of their chests, but they didn't budge.  She gave up quickly, and Spike sneered with delight when Willow quickly removed her hand from Angel first.

"First of all, *no one* purposely put me in danger," she informed them haughtily.  "Secondly, I was about 1-milimeter away from staking that 80's reject myself, Spike, although I'm grateful not to have had to, so thank you.  Thirdly, and *most* importantly, there will be *no* killing of childe *nor* sire as long as I'm alive, understand?"

Willow missed how Angel's face hardened at her word choice.  "It's my right as his sire--"

"You aren't my bloody sire, remember?"

"Whose blood runs in your veins, boy?  Mine!"

The vampires glared at each other, and Willow almost felt like crying as wave after wave of anger and hate flowed between the two.

As if he didn't hear Angel at all, Spike gently grabbed Willow by the forearms.  "Willow, listen to me," he said in a soft yet urgent tone.  "I don't want you wandering about with that lot again, looking for trouble.  That's the Slayer's bloody job, not yours.  Next time I may not be there--"

"Next time I don't plan on needing your help!" Willow snapped, then instantly her face and tone softened as she stared into the concerned eyes of her old friend.  "Spike, please don't start being overprotective of me now.  I don't think I could take that from you after all this time."

Spike didn't give in to her soft plea.  "Things have changed, Willow.  You aren't invincible anymore."

"I won't let Willow get hurt, Spike."  While the urgent words were for the blond vampire, Angel's eyes were on Willow.  "I won't let her be hurt again, by anyone."

The vampires exchanged calculating looks, but said nothing.

Wonderful, Willow mused, touched and yet annoyed at the same time.  Why is it that the only thing they can agree on is being overprotective?  She felt like screaming at them both, very loudly reminding them that she wasn't a child and that for vast majority of her life she'd taken care of herself, but she hated to shatter the annoying but delicate truce they'd come to.

"Well, now that we all seem to agree on something," Giles said, getting to his feet, "perhaps it's time we finally discuss what happened this evening?"

When Spike and Angel both muttered various forms of agreement, Willow smiled to herself.  That made two times they'd agreed in one night.  She'd definitely have to note this red-letter day in her journal.

Luckily, she wasn't expecting much more out of the two vampires because when Giles moved to go inside, neither vamp followed him.  While they may have the mutual goal of keeping her safe, it was obvious that Angel was hardly ready to invite Spike into his home for tea and pleasantries, nor did Spike seem overly anxious to share in Angel's nonexistent hospitality.

In the end, Willow and Giles had a seat on the steps next to Jenny, Spike proceeded to pace and smoke in front of them, while Angel leaned against the wrought iron railing at the base of the stairs.  Angel had his back to her, keeping an eye on Spike's every move, no doubt, so Willow kept finding herself studying his back.  It was a nice view, and when combined with the memory of their brief intimate encounter earlier that night, Willow had to fight the urge not to run into the kitchen and grab that bowl of ice cream.  Hell, forget the bowl!  All she needed was the carton and a spoon!

It took less than a half hour for Angel, Willow, and Spike to give their versions of the night's events.  The vampires managed not to insult each other for the entire time, but Spike had to chain smoke in order to pull that off and Angel was constantly clenching his fists.

When Spike had finished giving his two bob about what he'd seen--your typical vampire free for all with Willow at the center--he was more than happy to take his leave of the Watcher, the should-be-dead teacher, and the ever-annoying vampire with a soul.  He didn't like they way they were all inspecting him either.  Everyone was scrutinizing his every move, each word, except for Red.  She was staring at Angel as if she'd never seen a bloke's backside before.

Spike dropped his last cigarette and leaned toward Willow.  "Walk with me for a bit, pet."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Willow," Giles said from the doorway as Willow rose to follow the vampire.

Spike rolled his eyes.  Hadn't he just played nice for what had felt like a bloody eternity?  "Just to the footpath, Red.  Away from prying eyes and ears."  He looked back at the Watcher, who was following Jenny inside.  "Watcher, toss me your biro."  Giles only paused for a second before throwing his pen to the vampire.

"I want that back.  It's my favorite one," he advised the vampire, then slipped inside before Spike could have him on about it.

Spike walked with Willow the few yards to the footpath, feeling Angel's intent gaze on his back the entire time.  They came to a stop and Spike used a single finger under Willow's chin to bring her eyes to his.  For some reason she was trying to pretend as if she weren't staring at Angel and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like: "There better be some ice cream."

"Promise me you'll be careful, Willow," he said, trying not to let the great poof know how much it bugged him that he had Willow's attention.

She gave him one of those patient grins that really meant she wasn't taking him seriously.  "I've already promised you that several times tonight, Spike."

He clenched his jaw.  What was it going to take to get her to take her mortality seriously? "Well, I want to hear it again then, don't I?"

"I promise I'll be careful," she repeated, smiling and batting her big green eyes up at him.  Bloody hell, no wonder vamps were after her in droves!  Even with the change in look she still screamed innocence.  He wondered briefly if he could convince her to let herself go a bit, wear a flowery housedress or gray sweats.  Maybe if her hair didn't shimmer like blood in the moonlight or her eyes shine like beacons or if she didn't smell so damn good, the vampires wouldn't look twice at her.

Doubtful it would be that easy.  And while he didn't know what the hell had happened tonight, it wasn't going to happen again.  He'd find out who was behind the attacks and have them drawn and quartered.

With a growl, Spike latched on to Willow's hand and turned her palm up to the moonlight.

"What, you going to make me take a blood oath now, Spike?"  She tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was firm.  "Since when isn't my word good enough?"

"It'll do, Red.  It'll do."  Spike smirked, then with Giles' favorite pen he scribbled something on the palm of Willow's hand.  "My numbers," he clarified.  "Both the mansion and the little portable job.  Give me a ring if you're ever in trouble or just need a bodyguard."

She stared at her palm.  "You're kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Willow's smile faded.  Maybe he was finally getting through to her after all.  "What if Drusilla answers?" she retorted.

Spike groaned, his eyes narrowing.  "Sell her some ruddy long distance, I don't care!  I'm serious, Willow.  If it were up to me, I'd keep you locked up somewhere safe.  Consider this a compromise of sorts.  Anytime you're out after dark and at least two of those so-called friends of yours can't keep you company," he paused before grudgingly adding: "--or the great poof over there--call me."

Willow smirked.  "But you said they were pathetic."

"They are.  Bloody pathetic.  But they'll have to do, won't they?  Now promise."

Willow sighed, yet a small smile came to her lips at the thought of calling Spike on his cellphone.  In a million years, she never would have pictured that little scenario.  At this rate, they'd be exchanging email soon.  "I promise, Spike."  Her smile turned devilish as she took Giles' pen and added with a wink.  "Cross my heart and hope to die."

And with that, Willow turned on her heels with a saucy flip of her hair and walked back towards the church.

"Not funny, Red!" Spike called after her, but she simply tossed him a grin over her shoulder.

"Night Spike."

Mumbling about stubborn redheads and eternity probably being too damn long, Spike disappeared into the shadows.

"You shouldn't tease Spike like that," Angel said as Willow approached his position by the steps.

"Wow," Willow replied with a teasing grin.  "Not only did you two actually agree a couple of times tonight, now you're protecting Spike.  Miracles never cease.  There may be hope for you two yet!"

Angel pushed away from the railing to stare down at her with a face devoid of humor.  "This has nothing to do with his protection, Willow, only yours."  He took her hand and scrutinized the numbers scrawled on her palm.  He'd make sure Willow never had to call Spike, and while he doubted there was any way he could stop it, he'd do his best to see that Willow and Spike weren't alone together.  He wasn't sure when Spike planned on turning Willow, the blond vampire was obviously waiting for something, but there was little doubt in Angel's mind that those were Spike's eventual plans.

Angel had no idea how long he'd been holding her hand, his thumb tracing the numbers on her palm when Willow said in a breathless voice: "Angel, I have a question for you, and I want you to think very carefully before you answer."

He prepared himself for the worst.  "Okay, Willow."

She looked up at him, swallowed, and asked, "Do you or do you not still have some of that yummy chocolate fudge ice cream in your freezer?"

That was not quite what he was expecting her to ask.  "And if I don't?" he replied in all seriousness.

"Then I'll be going to the nearest store."

As tempting as it was to take a walk with the redhead, Angel knew it wasn't safe.  He also knew that in his grocery delivery today there had been a carton of double chocolate fudge ice cream.

He was still absent-mindedly caressing her palm when he replied, "There's ice cream."

With speed that rivaled his own, Willow pulled her hand away to take the steps behind him two at a time.  As she pushed open the front door he added: "There's also a jar of hot fudge sauce in the cabinet behind the peanut butter."

Willow stopped and turned to stare at him with such unabashed hunger that Angel took an involuntary step backwards, then she sprinted through the door.  Angel had no idea what was going on, but there was no way he was going to get in between that woman and her ice cream.

She'd probably eat me alive, he thought with a belated smile as he followed her in to his home.

*****

"I can check the various scrolls and other references to see if there is some prophecy or warning that seems to fit this situation, Willow, but frankly, I'm not holding out much luck."

Willow licked the spoon of every last smudge of hot fudge before nodding her head in understanding.  "I don't think you're going to find anything either, Giles."  She was eating the ice cream straight out of the carton, although she had taken the time to heat up the jar of hot fudge and pour half the contents onto the ice cream first.

"Are you sure you didn't see anything else strange or out of the ordinary?"

Angel shook his head, completely entranced in the way the redhead was ravenously devouring the ice cream.  It didn't escape his notice that she'd been avoiding him since she'd started eating, and the few times their eyes did meet, she actually blushed.

Intriguing.

Giles cleared his throat and repeated the question.

"Other than the fact that more than a dozen vampires were using Willow for a sparring partner, and that they didn't really seem to want to hurt any of us until the end, no, Giles," Angel finally had the presence of mind to reply.

Willow slapped her head with the palm of her hand.  "Wait a sec!" she said, actually placing the half-eaten carton of ice cream on the table.  "There was something else that I'd almost forgotten about.  Two things, actually.  I saw three men watching from a safe distance."

"Just watching?" Jenny asked and Willow nodded in reply.

"Anything strange about them?"

"Not really," Willow said, searching her memory.  "They looked pretty normal...in their 30s and early 40s, I guess.  One was kind of short, pudgy, and balding, wearing a short leather jacket, and glasses.  One was taller, with a beard, and wearing a suit.  The third guy had long straggly blond hair and thick dark-rimmed glasses.  I think the short one checked his watch a few times, but other than that, they just sort of watched...stared.  They left about the time Spike showed up."

"Did you notice these men, Angel?" Giles asked.

Angel was trying not to stare at the smudge of fudge at the corner of her mouth.  He swallowed and gripped the back of the leather chair he was standing behind.  "No."

Obviously thinking everything through, Giles slid his glasses off to chew lightly on one stem.

"What was the other strange thing, Willow?" Jenny asked.

Willow's tongue flicked out to clean the chocolate from her mouth before answering, causing Angel's grip to tighten reflexively until his nails actually punctured the fine leather of the wingback chair.  "Oh, only that either there was a vampire triplet convention in town, or I killed some of the same vampires two or three times."

*****

It wasn't long before Willow wished she'd kept her big ice cream-eating mouth shut. When she'd so casually announced that she'd killed the same vampires more than once, Angel was surprised as the rest.  Later when Cordelia, Xander and Buffy were questioned, none of them remembered repeatedly seeing the same vampire, let alone staking them.  Even Spike claimed to have not noticed the identical vampires. Buffy, Xander and Cordelia wanted to chalk up Willow's seeing double and sometimes triple to the stress of the situation, so Willow let them.  She knew what she'd seen but she wasn't going to make things any worse for herself with her friends than it already was.

Not only were her friends back to being ridiculously overprotective, but what little headway Willow felt she'd made with Angel was now considerably outweighed by his sudden overwhelming protectiveness and an increasingly sullen mood.  She recognized guilt and self-disgust when she saw it.  And no matter what she and the others said to convince Angel that it wasn't his fault, Angel still made her safety his personal duty, watching her like a hawk.  And not a sexy vampire-like hawk, but a brooding prison warden-like hawk, and so the rest of the ice cream remained uneaten for quite some time.

Yep.  If she thought it had been bad before, it had gotten much, much worse.  They now all believed Willow to be the target of something, but they had no idea what.  Buffy and Xander insisted that Spike or possibly Drusilla was behind whatever it was, while the other's who knew the truth about her relationship with Spike, focused on something even more dire than an obsessed vampire.  They were all certain that Willow was going to be the key to some upcoming doom-n-gloom prophecy.

Willow, on the other hand, figured it was more likely something in the middle of those two possibilities.  No matter what, she refused to let her life be ruled by 'what-ifs?' anymore than it already was.

Everywhere she went, daylight or nighttime hours, someone went with her.  Buffy would walk her home from school, or Xander would accompany her to Angel's place.  Then they would all, including Angel, walk her home after dark.  Not only wasn't she allowed to participate in the one thing she really enjoyed--Friday night patrols, the one thing deemed safe for her--research--had become totally unbearable, since she was now its main focus.  Even Giles, who was normally slow to jump to conclusions *and* knew Willow's whole situation, believed that she was in danger.

Willow tried her best to handle the situation in a mature manner, but in the end, she started to withdraw even more from her friends and finding other social outlets.  While it meant lying to everyone, even Spike, it was surprisingly easy to sneak out on her own several nights a week.

Unfortunately, one late autumn night a few weeks after the patrol incident, her friends became suspicious.

*********

"All right, Spike.  Where is she?"

Spike rolled his eyes in annoyance at the sound of Buffy's voice coming from behind him but otherwise ignored her.  He was not in the mood for The Slayer tonight...any night, actually.  He'd just wanted some time to himself and to have a drink, no complications.  If he'd wanted complications, he would have stayed at home.

Buffy cautiously inched closer, a nervous Xander and Cordelia right behind her.  "Are you deaf now as well as dumb, Spike?" she taunted the vampire when he continued to disregard her.

"Take you all day to think of that one, Slayer?" he snickered, his focus still entirely on his wine and cigarette.

"Where is she, Spike?"

"She?" Spike snorted, finally shifting on his stool to look at the Scooby Gang with distaste.  Ignoring Buffy, he sized up the boy first.  Xapper.  He stared at him, scrutinizing him carefully, until the boy finally fidgeted.  Actually, Spike was impressed.  He'd have guessed that the boy'd have wet his trou by now.  Moving on in his inspection of the teens, he quickly raked over the other one, the dark-haired girl who was clutching Xapper's hand.  Pretty, but high maintenance.  He wished Xapper luck.  Finally he turned his cool eyes to Buffy, who was practically shaking with suppressed anger at this point.  Spike knew he shouldn't push his luck...just like he knew he would anyway.

He took another long drag of his cigarette, then casually exhaled the smoke directly in Buffy's face.  "First of all, Slayer, didn't Joyce ever tell you how rude it is to refer to someone as a 'she'?"

Looking a bit surprised and worried that Spike knew her mother's name, Buffy took a step closer.  "Spike--"

Spike ignored the Slayer's interruption to berate her some more.  "Willow has a name you know, you stupid bint.  Use it."

Buffy simply glared at the blonde vampire, while the others shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"Say it, Buffy.  Say her name.  Wwwillllloowwww..." he instructed The Slayer as if she were a child.

Her hazel eyes narrowed.  "If you keep uttering it like that, she may want to change her name."

Spike smirked, leaning back against the bar.  "Fine by me.  I always thought Red looked like a bit of a Rose, myself.  Willow sounds so 60's...1960s, not 1860s.  Now Rose is a good 1860's name..."

Obviously running out of patience, Buffy leaned in to slam her stake down on the bar mere millimeters from his elbow.  "The point, Spike?"

Spike was unfazed, his smirk unwavering.  "You tell me."

"Where is Willow?"

"Don't you know?"

"If I knew, would I be here subjecting myself to your company?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"You wouldn't be the first person to pick a fight with me just to stay in my company a little longer."  Spike grinned then gave The Slayer a long appraising look, which quickly turned dismissive.  "Sorry Slayer...you're not my type."
Spike turned back to the bar and his cigarette.  "So feel free to leave anytime, Slayer.  Oh, and don't forget to let the door crush you to death on your way out."

"Look, I'm not leaving until you tell me where Willow is!"

Spike was thoroughly enjoying himself.  "You mean you don't know?" he repeated, his back still to the teenagers.

"Spike, I'm about two seconds away from having a sudden memory loss as far as all prophecies are concerned."  When Spike shot her a quick glance over his shoulder, Buffy made an innocent face.  "Oops.  Spike's a pile of ashes.  My bad."

Spike laughed.  "Yeah, you and what army, Slayer?"

"That would be us," Xander spoke up, his voice cracking slightly.

Smiling, Spike swiveled back around on the stool and glanced from Cordelia to Xander and back to The Slayer.  "Oh, puh-lease.  I said which army, not which kindie class."

"Spike--"

"You know, it's funny, really," Spike chuckled, again interrupting Buffy.  "That you, her *friends,* don't know where she is.  Haven't actually seen her tonight myself, but I can tell you exactly where she is.  The same place she's been for the last few Monday and Thursday nights.  The same place she runs off to whenever she's had a gutsful of you lot and can manage to sneak away from soul-boy's ever-watchful eye."  He didn't tell them that he watched her as well, without her knowing, of course.  And if he couldn't, he'd have one of his more trustworthy minions do it for him.  For the next couple of hours, he knew Willow was relatively safe, but her friends didn't.  The anxious and bewildered looks that the teenagers exchanged made Spike's night. This just kept getting better and better, he thought, flicking a bored look at the stakes they still held in their sweaty little palms.

"You stake me, Slayer," he spat, "and how will you find out where your bestest buddy in the whole wide world is?"

Buffy's shoulders sagged a bit, but then she quickly straightened up, her eyes flashing anything but defeat.  "Spike, you have until I count to three," she began in a carefully measured tone, "and if you don't tell me where she is, I'll tell Willy that if he ever serves you again, I'll make this place the new Slayer Central, got it?"

At this point, Willy dropped a glass.  His eyes were wide, pleading with Spike from behind the bar.

Not worried by her threat in the slightest but beginning to tire of the game anyway, Spike stubbed out his cigarette and slid off the stool.  "Sure you want to know?" he asked, fixing The Slayer with his coldest gaze.  "You think you lot can handle it?"

"If she's hurt, Spike.  If you have her tied up somewhere, or worse--"

Again, so many one-liners came to mind, but he controlled himself.  "She's not hurt.  Red's fine..."

"Take us to her now, Spike," Xander growled, actually stepping in front of the Slayer to glare at him. "And stop calling her that!"

Spike was glad that the bar was practically empty or he'd be hearing about this for a decade or two from the other regulars.  Luckily, Monday nights were always slow, especially during football season.

Willy's still didn't have a big screen TV.

Raising a brow for the boy's bravery, Spike leaned in to whisper near his ear.  "I'll stop calling her that when she asks me to herself, Xapper, but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."  Then Spike pulled back--impressed that the boy hadn't run away screaming by now--and winked at him.  Then he addressed the others.  "It would be my pleasure to take you to her, Slayer, but don't say I didn't warn you."

With a last smirk for the oblivious kids, Spike brushed past them all, exited the bar and headed down the first dark ally he came across, the Slayer and the others at his heels.

Spike couldn't help himself.  Even though their final destination was only three blocks away and in a relatively good part of town, Spike purposely lead them on a wild goose chase for over an hour through some of the darker, danker, and definitely more dangerous areas of Sunnydale.  There were less than a block from their final destination when they actually met up with Angel, Giles, and Jenny, who'd obviously been searching for Willow as well.

Shaking his head at his luck, Spike came to a casual stop.  Angel's steps didn't slow until he was mere inches away.  He stared down at him.

"I should have known you'd be involved, Spike.  What do you know about this?"

"A damn sight more than any of you lot, that's for sure.  But then, what else's new, right, Peaches?"

"Take me to Willow now before I--"

"Already have, mate.  We're here," he informed them with an amused smirk as he jerked his thumb to the door of the coffeehouse behind him.

Buffy looked at the building then back at Spike, well and truly vexed.  "Thirsty, Spike?"

Ignoring them, Spike pushed Angel away and threw open the doors to the coffeehouse.  He strolled into the dim, smoky club, and immediately lit up a cigarette.  The others followed, stopping a few steps inside the door to look around.  The small club wasn't packed, but there was a respectable crowd.  The place had a comfortable, worn look about it.  Couches, tables, and chairs of all description were spread about in no particular pattern.  The plastered walls were an earthy red-brown, which looked leather-like and sported a variety of posters and local art talent.  The clientele was diverse, a cross between Asian businessman, urban cowgirls and everything in between.  Most were engrossed in the small stage in the far corner, watching the entertainment.

"So, where is she?" Buffy demanded of Spike, hands on her hips.  "Does she have a part-time job pushing caffeine?  That would be bad, because Willow and caffeine do not mix."

Spike snorted in disgust.  "Why the bloody hell Red was in a hurry to get back to you pathetic lot is beyond me."

"Enough cryptic," Buffy said loudly, trying to talk over the soft explosion of applause directed toward the stage, her eyes having already glanced over not only all of the patrons but the wait staff as well, seeing no sign of her friend.  "If you sent us on a wild good chase--"

"Oh. My. God..." came Xander's voice, interrupting Buffy's tirade.

"What?"

Xander elbowed her, pointing to the stage, his mouth hanging open.  When Buffy noticed the performer, her mouth fell open as well.  One by one the others had similar reactions until only Spike seemed to be taking it all in stride.

"Bunch of bloody pillocks," he mumbled, stalking off to the bar to get his cup of usual.

Willow didn't seem to be able to see the new arrivals, due in no small part to the smoke and a couple of bright stage lights, which they all figured was actually for the best considering how stunned they probably looked.

The redhead was sitting on a lone stool in the middle of the small stage.  Cradling a large acoustic guitar on her lap while one hand wrapped around the microphone stand, Willow looked more relaxed and comfortable than they'd seen her in months.  She strummed a few practice chords as the audience finished their applause for her previous song.

"Thank you," she said with an endearing smile when she could be heard.  "Um, Dave said I can do one more, so if you don't mind, I thought I'd do a song that I actually wrote myself."  Willow grinned appreciatively at the assorted shouts of encouragement from random patrons.  "Thanks!  Now, I'd ask you to sing along, but...well...you don't know the words, do you?"

"Hey, Buffy!  Angel!"  Oz's loud whisper drew their attention away from the stage.  Oz was sitting alone at a table in the back, and he gestured for them all to come over.

Xander, whose mouth was still hanging open, finally managed to speak as he took a seat next to Oz.  "What?  When?  How?" he asked, his eyes darting between Oz and the redhead on the stage.

"That pretty much echoes my thoughts," Oz replied with a shrug.  "This is my first time here. It's open-mike night, so I came to try out a new song I'm working on."  He gestured to his guitar case in the corner.  "Looks like Willow beat me to it.  I'm as surprised as you are."

Xander had managed to close his mouth, but now his head was shaking in useless denial.  "But...but...she has stage fright!  And, well, she can't sing!"

From his spot at the bar, Spike snorted, called them a score of rude names, then asked for more cinnamon on his cappuccino.

"And the guitar?" Xander continued.  "When did she learn how to play the guitar?  Oz, when did you teach--"

"Wasn't me."

Still dazed, everyone found a chair at Oz's table, except for Angel, who hung at the back...one eye on Willow, the other on Spike who'd taken a position leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Anyway," Willow continued easily into the microphone, "I call this one 'Further and Further Away'." #

When there was silence, Willow's fingers moved over the strings, gently picking out the notes.  After the short instrumental introduction, she leaned into the mike and sang with such a melodic sweetness that her friends felt tears stinging their eyes.

While singing the last few words before the instrumental, Willow was pleasantly surprised to spot Spike standing at the side of the club.  She gave him a saucy grin as her fingers glided over the strings.

"What's she doing?" Cordelia asked as she noticed Willow looking off toward the side of the room.

Buffy craned her neck to see where Willow was looking.  "Oh my God," she hissed.  "Willow's serenading Spike."

"Is not!"  Xander nearly shouted in denial.  He followed Willow's line of vision to see Spike smiling back at the redhead.

"Oh. My. God," he said again, then corrected himself.  "Scratch that.  There obviously is no God...Or, or maybe I'm dreaming.  Someone pinch me?  Please?"  He was panicking, and when Cordy gave him a painful twist on his arm, which changed nothing, he grew pale.

"She's quite good, actually," Giles said with an approving smile, ignoring the young peoples' fussing.

Jenny agreed.  "The Rom are excellent musicians and teachers."

Buffy eyed the two calm adults in the room skeptically.  "What do you two know about this?"

"Oh, well, I-I can assure you, that I'm as in the dark as you are," Giles sputtered.  "At least about the singing...."

"Can you guys shut up?" Cordelia huffed. "I want to hear the song!"

Still oblivious to the fact that her friends were in the audience, Willow continued singing.

With a few final strums of her guitar, the song was over, but not until the closing strains drifted away did the room erupt in applause.

Jenny wiped away a tear while clapping her hands, catching the meaning of the song probably better than anyone else in the room.  Sensing her emotions, Giles squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear, "Willow's going to be okay, Jenny.  She's a strong woman."

"She's so alone, Rupert," Jenny whispered back.  "I could see her heart breaking up there."

"It was her choice not to tell her friends.  She set herself on this particular path, although I have a feeling she's about to take an unexpected detour," he said with a grim smile.

After thanking everyone for their appreciative applause, Willow grabbed her guitar and stood, just as a rather chubby red-faced man moved on stage.  Willow leaned back into the microphone.  "Oh, and next we have for your musical enjoyment, Herbert and his banjo!"

Guitar in hand, she jumped lightly off the stage.  "Spike," she smiled, sliding up to give him a friendly peck on the cheek.  "What are you doing here?"

"Still waiting for you to sing me a song, Red.  Hope that little ditty wasn't it.  It was a mite depressing."

"Nope, not for you, although I'm sure I can come up with something you'd like if you let me know you're here.  And the guitar sounds so beautiful, doesn't it?  I can never thank you enough for it."

"You're welcome to try anytime, Red."

"Ah, nice try, Spike, but you never answered my question.  Why are you here?  How'd you find me?  Did you miss me or did you come to yell at me for sneaking out?"

The smile slid off Spike face as he noticed the others coming their way.  "Sorry, pet...I think your cover's blown."

"What?" she asked, then turned to see everyone stampeding towards her.  "Oh boy."

Willow straightened into a proud position, shoulders back, chin held high, telling herself it was time to get it over with anyway.  She could take anything they threw, including a million questions.

Buffy and Xander stopped directly in front of her, Cordelia, Jenny and Giles behind them.  The two adults gave her reassuring smiles, but the others looked far from happy.

"Um, hi guys.  Nice place, isn't it?  They make a mean mocha latte here and the--"

Xander and Buffy exchanged looks.  "All right, who the hell are you and what have you done with Willow?" Buffy demanded while Xander stood with his arms crossed, nodding.

Willow laughed until she realized they were serious.  "Buffy, Xander, I *am* Willow."

Xander elbowed Buffy, saying in a staged whisper: "I'm thinking evil, yet oddly talented double from some strange demon dimension.  What about you, Buffy?"

"Robot.  Definitely," she replied without hesitation.  "But with very dexterous fingers and a nice voice," she added, and Willow smiled at her compliment.

"You thought I was good, Buffy?  Really?"

"You were wonderful, Willow," Jenny spoke up.

"I have to agree," Giles said.  "You play beautifully and have a very mature--"

"Hey!" Xander interrupted to turn and glare at the adults.  "Don't fraternize with the enemy version of Willow!"

Willow straightened, fixing them each with a candid look.  "I'm not an enemy or a version...I'm the original!"

Spike dropped his cigarette on the carpeted floor and ground it out with his boot before draping an arm about Willow's shoulders in a show of support.  "This *is* Willow, you ninnies."

"No way," Xander said plainly.  "Our Willow doesn't *do* stages, she runs and hides!  Our Willow doesn't *sing* in public, she runs and hides!  And most importantly, our Willow doesn't lie to her friends, keep secrets and make nice with blood suckers..."  He cleared his throat, then said in a slightly gentler tone: "No offense, Angel."

"None taken," Angel said, finally leaving the shadows to join the group.  Willow gave him a tentative smile, but his expression remained reserved as he said, "But this *is* Willow."

The Slayer's eyes narrowed.  "Willow, either explain or I'm going to start looking for a power source on you somewhere, and I don't mean the mystical kind.  We're talking Eveready here."

Oz finally spoke up.  "I was thinking AC/DC myself."

Willow smiled warmly at Oz before turning back to Buffy.  "It is such a long story, but I am Willow...*your* Willow...sort of..."

"Can I do the honors, Red?" Spike whispered near her ear, although loud enough for everyone to hear.  "Pretty, pretty please?"  When Willow gave him a highly skeptical look in reply, he continued, "I'll make it quick and to the point, which you have to admit was never one of your strong suits.  Then you can just answer the follow-up questions."

"I dunno."

"Red, no offense, but if we wait for you to explain, we'll be in for the marathon babble of a lifetime...several lifetimes in fact."

Buffy's foot was tapping a mile a minute.  "Someone better start explaining or I'll stake Spike just for something to pass the time!"

Willow scowled at Buffy, but managed not to blurt out 'over my dead body!'.  Still, the scowl seemed to catch Buffy off guard.  "Okay, Spike, but please try to behave.  Just stick to the *relevant* stuff."

Spike winked at her, then turned to others. He opened his grinning mouth, ready to tell all, but when they leaned forward in expectation, Spike couldn't help dragging it out a bit.  Instead, he fumbled around for his cigarettes and took his own sweet time lighting one up.  Just when Buffy looked ready to explode, and Willow was giving him 'the look', Spike began.

"The Willow before you is...er, how old is it again, love?" he asked the redhead.

For a moment, Willow was at a loss for words.  While Spike had been toying with his captive audience, Angel moved to her other side.  The look on his face had grown supportive and strangely hopeful, and she found his presence at her side both reassuring and nerve wracking.

She refocused on the matter at hand, replaying what Spike had asked her.  "Oh...well...it depends on if you count all the years we were gone or just the years we lived through."

"Let's go with just the ones we have the mental Polaroids of, Red."

"Well, I was 17 when we went back to 1753, then we left in 1871 so that makes 135 years, give or take a few months..."

Spike nodded, as if doing the math in his own head, then fixed the group with an eerily cheerful smile.  He was loving every second of this.  "Okay, Red here is 135 years old because I did a spell that took her back in time.  Due to no fault of my own, mind you, we ended up being stuck there longer than I imagined, but now we're both back, older and wiser.  That 'bout covers it, don't you think, Red?"

Willow sighed.  She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but that definitely wasn't it.  Still, it could have been worse.  "Spike..."

"What?" he asked with all the wide-eyed innocence of a nun.  "Don't tell me you want all the sordid little details?"

"No, but--"

"Um, I do.  I want the sordid little details!" Cordelia piped up, for some reason appearing to take the news better than her flabbergasted friends.

Spike grinned triumphantly.  "Oh, well, since Xapper's girlfriend--"

"*Xander's* girlfriend and her name is Cordelia," the long-suffering Willow groaned.

Spike made himself comfortable, as if about to impart a long epic tale on a group of eager schoolchildren.  "Well, Cordelia, we went back in time so I could save Dru and kill Angel.  The spell required virgin blood and well...Red here, wanting to save the ponce's life for some bloody reason that's completely beyond my understanding, mucked it all up.  Instead of killing off Angelus," he said, jerking a thumb at the hovering, silent vampire, "we ended up living in Galway, Ireland, in 1753 as husband and wife--"

"Husband and wife?" Buffy repeated incredulously and Spike's triumphant grin became wicked, lascivious.  Angel's face darkened considerably.

Willow shifted uncomfortably from foot-to-foot, not sure where to look when all of her friends were staring at her as if she'd grown an extra head or two.  "Um, maybe I better handle it from here, Spike."

"But I was just getting to the good bits!" At the no-nonsense look Willow gave him, the vampire shrugged and plucked another cigarette out of his pack.  "Suit yourself."

"This probably isn't the best place for such an...intimate discussion, Willow."  Giles looked about the crowded coffeehouse.  "Maybe we should continue this back at Angel's?"

"Um, yeah...I guess so."

"Wait a minute!" Buffy hissed, glaring at all of the adults in the group.  "Everyone who knows what's going on here, raise his or her hand."

Spike's hand immediately shot straight up, slowly followed by Angel's, Giles', Jenny's and even Willow's herself.

Buffy gave them all dirty looks, except for Willow, whom she looked at through wounded eyes.  "So, something major has been going on with Wills, and no one cares to share it with her friends, let alone the Slayer?"

"I'm sorry, Buffy, but it's...complicated," Willow began in a quieter tone.  They were beginning to attract attention as Buffy's voice seemed to increase a decibel with every word.  "I really think we need to take this outside."

"Yeah, I think we're interrupting the cowboy's groove," Oz added, motioning toward the stage where the painfully off-key Herbert was having trouble holding his audience's attention.

"So, Angel's it is then?" Jenny asked, taking Giles' hand and pulling him towards the door in an effort to get the whole group moving.

Willow smiled tentatively at Oz.  "Oz, can you come, please?  This kinda concerns you, too."

He nodded.  "Had a feeling it might."

As they began to file out of the coffeehouse in various kinds of silence, Spike whispered into Willow's ear.  "Need backup, Red?"

"Oh, I think I better handle this one on my own, and I doubt that Angel's in any mood to invite you in to his home tonight."

Spike hated the anxious look on her face.  Her eyes were wide, making her look even younger and more naive than usual.  He rubbed her back, which made Xander groan with disgust in the background.  "Sorry it happened this way, love.  That lot cornered me in Willy's and wouldn't let me alone until I produced you, dead or alive."

"That's okay, Spike.  Guess it had to happen sooner or later, and this was as good a way as any."

"You should have seen the looks on their faces when they saw you on that stage.  It was priceless."

"Um, how did, er, Angel look?"

Spike's smile disappeared.  "Like he always does, as if he'd like nothing better than to stake me and grind my bones for his bread."

"That's not true."  Willow turned to find Jenny behind her.  "Angel looked surprised and...sort of entranced, to tell you the truth."

Spike shrugged indifferently. "Angry, entranced, thinking of childe-ocide...it's all the same to me."

Willow sighed as she stepped out into the fresh night air to find everyone watching and waiting for her.

Spike stood his ground as they walked away.  "Look at the bright side, pet," he called after her.  "After this, we won't have to go sneaking 'round anymore, will we?"

****

The room was as quiet as a...well, as a church.  Buffy, Xander, Cordelia and Oz sat at the table, each with their own special expression of disbelief on their face as they stared at the red-headed woman in front of them.

Willow had told them everything...at least everything she thought they needed to know.  They were all now aware of what had happened in Willow's original timeline--including the Buffy and Angel, Willow and Oz pairings.  She told them how she'd messed up the spell so that they went farther back in time and met Angel before he was a vampire.  As she had before when she'd repeated her history for Giles, Willow skimmed much of the details about her relationship with Angelus.  They didn't know how close she and Angelus had become, both before and after he'd lost his life.  Nor did they know just how intimate her relationship with Spike was.  She also didn't tell them of her darker moments, the years she spent alone with only her guilt and hatred of Spike keeping her going.

She kept it light and simple, as if she were writing a paper on how she spent her summer vacation.  The rest, if need be, could come out in time.

So now she waited for them to say something.  Anything.

Finally, the sacred silence was shattered as they all started talking at once.

"I had sex with Angel?"

"You're a 100-year-old virgin?"

"You had how many servants?"

"Huh."

Willow tried not to roll her eyes although this reaction was exactly what she feared.  Before she could respond, the next set of questions hit her.

"Angel lost his soul because he, er, loved me?"

"Let me get this straight...You're a 100-year-old virgin?"

"Now, when you say servants, were they live-ins or just part-time help?"

Oz's comment was again a simple: "Huh."

Willow took a deep breath.  "Yes, Buffy, you and Angel were in love.  You had sex, he lost his soul, became a real arse and tried to destroy the world, but he didn't and then you both disappeared."

She turned to Xander.  "Yes, I'm a 135-year-old virgin.  It was necessary for the spell to work.  It wasn't fun, and yet I was hardly a nun.  Deal with it."

The cheerleader was next.  "Cordy, for the most part I managed with as little help as possible.  When I was in big cities, like London, I had gardeners, occasional housekeeping, but I dressed myself, corset and all.  I was pretending to be a widow in mourning, not a princess."

She turned to Oz and suddenly her tone gentled.  "Sorry to sorta spring that kind of information on you all at once, Oz.  I had actually told you everything before when you were, you know...all wolfie...but I didn't know how to tell you when you might actually remember."

"It makes sense, actually."

"It does?" she asked with hope in her voice.

He nodded.  "They way you've been looking at me, the way you know me..."  He looked at Angel then back to Willow.  "I was beginning to think we were twins separated at birth.  Actually, you going back in time and changing history makes more sense."

"Really?"

He nodded, but when the smile on Willow's face spread to his own, he suddenly stood up.  His smile was gone.

"Oz?" Willow asked, rising quickly to her feet.  The look on his face was no longer a happy one...he looked confused and scared.

"Gotta go," Oz said, barely looking at her.  "Sorry," he added sheepishly, then slipped out the door before Willow could think of the words to stop him.  She stood in the middle of the room, staring at the door he'd just bolted through.

"Give him time to adjust, Willow," came Giles' gentle offering as he came up from behind to squeeze her shoulder.

"That's a lot for a guy like Oz to take in," Jenny agreed.

"Yeah, I know...or at least I used to."  Willow looked at them both.  "All he needs is time..."  But it wasn't that simple anymore.

Giles took off his spectacles to give Willow a warm smile.  "I must say, Willow, I'm rather relieved this is all finally out in the open."

Willow glanced back over her shoulder where her friends were in deep discussion.  "I know, Giles," she sighed, "but if Xander asks me one more time if I'm a virgin..." Willow let the threat go unfinished.

Giles nodded wearily.  "If he asks you that one more time, I'll kill him myself, Willow."

Giles and Jenny made a discreet exit when Angel approached.  He'd stood silently in the background the entire time Willow spoke, and strangely enough, Willow found strength in his quiet presence, although she couldn't quite bring herself to look at him while she'd told her story.  But now that the truth was out, Angel's silent support had taken on a more pensive note.  He was brooding again.

"Angel?"

The dark, hurt look in his eyes made Willow re-evaluate her previous description.  He wasn't simply brooding, he was hurt and a little angry.  "You didn't tell them about us," he said in a cool, even tone.

"I--I couldn't, Angel.  I--"

"Do you still expect me to go on pretending that it didn't happen?  Because I won't, Willow."  His voice had grown lower, angrier, but his words were still for her ears only.  "I won't pretend that my bite marks aren't on your neck, Willow, or that we weren't in love."

Willow's blood was pounding in her ears, and she was quite sure she couldn't breathe.  "That was a long time ago, Angel."

"Not for me, Willow.  For me, it was only a heart beat ago."

Before Willow could say another word, Angel turned and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

Willow sighed as she stared despondently at the door that both Angel and Oz had fled through.

Actually, it had gone better than she'd expected, but that wasn't saying much.

~Part: 17~

While Angel stormed out of Slayer Central, the teenagers were still trying to come to grips with Willow's revelations.

"I guess we should just be glad her brain wasn't permanently smushed after all," Xander said in a low voice to Buffy and Cordelia, who were seated next to him at one of the round tables.  "I was starting to think she'd lost some serious brain cells from that spell this summer."

"Oh, you mean the spell that never happened?" Cordelia reminded them. She didn't bother trying to keep her voice low. "The one that was just some big ole cover-up for Willow's living flashback?"

"I'm with you, Xander," Buffy admitted.  "I was starting to think Willow didn't like us anymore.  She didn't hang around as much as she used to, and even when she did, sometimes she was just so..."

"Unwillowy?"

Buffy nodded.  "Withdrawn, detached...just different somehow," she whispered.  "And now we know why."

"Yeah, it's actually kind of a relief to know that she's not insane, just really, really old."

Cordelia gestured across the large room.  "I'm not so sure about that," she said.  Willow was standing with her back to them, seemingly staring at the front door of Slayer Central.  "I've seen saner."

Xander glanced at over at Giles and Jenny, who were quietly talking at a nearby table.  He looked over at Willow again and cleared his throat. "Um, Willow, where'd Angel go?"

Willow was still staring at the closed door.  "I'm not sure," she replied without turning around.  "I think he just needed some air."

"And since when do vampires need to get air?" Cordelia asked.

"Maybe after everything Willow said he wanted to have a little talk with Spike," Buffy suggested hopefully.

Xander leaned back in his chair and grinned.  "If you mean talk as in Angel's fists meeting Spike's jaw, I hope you're right.  It's about time we were able to knock that permanent smirk off his pasty old face."

"Or maybe he wanted to talk to Oz," Buffy countered.  "Oz did look pretty wigged by the news."

Willow was still staring at the door.

"I, uh, still can't believe you and Oz were a couple," Xander said even more loudly.  "That's almost as strange as Buffy and Angel, er, *dating*."

Willow finally seemed to snap out of it.  "What?" she said, turning to look at them over her shoulder. "Oh yeah, strange, huh?" she added, but then her attention turned back to the door.  She took a hesitant step towards it, her hand outstretched for the handle, and then she seemed to change her mind because she stepped backwards.  She repeated this several times, muttering to herself all the while.  Xander couldn't be sure, but he thought she was saying something about being China and anger building sturdy walls.  It didn't make any sense to him.  He looked over at Buffy, who appeared as confused as he was.

"Oh yeah...big improvement," Cordelia noted dryly.  She turned to Giles and Jenny.  "Excuse me, but exactly how long has Willow thought she was a piece of angry tableware?"

Willow was still staring at the door, torn between going after Angel and simply letting him be angry with her, when Jenny's soft voice, full of concern, brought her out of her reverie of indecision.

"Willow, are you okay?"

She jumped at Jenny's question, startled to realize that the room had had grown quiet.  There was no more excited chatter coming from Buffy, Cordelia and Xander as they discussed what had happened to her.  Without even turning around, she could feel the weight of their stares.  She took a deep breath and got some semblance of command over her emotions before she whirled to face them.  "I'm fine," she said brightly and was happy to see some of the worry fade from her friends' faces at her words. "Guess I'm just a little wound up after everything that happened tonight.  You know...all full of energy!"

The three young people nodded and smiled, but Willow could see wariness in their faces. Willow didn't blame them for having doubts, and she knew it would take a while to win back their complete trust.  When you lie to people for three months, it tends to make them a little more cautious for a while.

As they went back to talking softly amongst themselves, it occurred to Willow that she should be feeling even guiltier than she already did for making them worry, for her dishonesty.  The increasingly infrequent twinges of remorse that she'd felt from all the lies and half-truths didn't seem like enough now. But for a change, Willow couldn't quite summon the heavy burden of guilt to come perch on her shoulder. During her long life, truth was rarely one of her survival techniques. She'd lived one lie after another, never able to tell anyone the whole truth about who she was and where she'd come from.  Only with Spike had she been able to relax and try to be herself, but sometimes even she wondered where the lies stopped and she started.

"So, is that really all that's bothering you?" Jenny asked, lowering her voice as she drew closer.  "Nervous energy?"

Giles stood behind Jenny, his forehead creased with concern.  "Did Angel say something to upset you?"

Willow sighed as she looped her thumbs into the pockets of her suede jeans in a vain effort to appear casual.  She kept her tone light as well.  "I think the question you may want to ask is, did I *not* say something that upset Angel?"

"Pardon?"

Realizing that she probably wasn't going to be able to 'poker face' her way out of this one, Willow glanced over at her friends.  Since they appeared to be entangled in another lively discussion, she quickly led Giles and Jenny to the far end of the room so they could talk with a little more privacy.

"Angel's angry about my abridged version of what happened," she told them.

Giles removed his glasses as he gave a tight smile that Willow tried not to think of as condescending.  "Ah, I see."

"I can't say that I'm surprised, Willow," Jenny said.  "How long did you really think you could go on pretending that it had all never happened?"

So much for a sympathetic ear.

Willow feigned an appropriate lighthearted smile. "Well, since vampires are immortal, I was kinda aiming for forever."

"Not very realistic, Willow," Giles said.

"Not very fair either," Jenny agreed.

"Hey, I know you two aren't supposed to pick sides, that as teacher-types you appreciate and treasure each of us equally and all that, but, come one, whose side are you on, anyway?"

Giles laughed softly at Willow's slight pout.  "Believe it or not, we are on your side, Willow.  We only want what's best for you, for everyone concerned."

With an exaggerated display of dejection, Willow flopped down on the nearby couch.  "Guess this means at 135 years old, I'm no longer the teacher's pet.  Just more proof that time travel bites."

Smiling, Giles joined Willow on the couch and Jenny took a seat next to him.

"Now, back to you and Angel," Jenny began. "Maybe you should try to look at the situation from his point of view.  Angel's been waiting a lot longer than you have for the truth to come out.  He's been keeping these secrets from the others for years now, not just months.  He's bound to be a little...impatient."

"You mean pushy," Willow grumbled.

"Not only that, Willow," Giles said, ignoring her aside, "but it has become quite apparent to us that meeting you in Galway was quite likely the single most important thing that ever happened to Angel.  A defining moment in his life, or unlife, you might say.  We can only imagine how difficult it was for him to keep that a secret."

"Yet he did, Willow," Jenny added.  "For your sake, he's kept the truth from the others."

Willow barely registered Jenny's comment.  Her mind was still stuck on the 'single most defining moment in his life' concept.

Giles stood up, which recaptured Willow's attention.  "And then, tonight, when you were finally backed into a corner and forced to tell your friends about your incredible experience, you made it sound as if Angel's part in your past was entirely insignificant.  As if meeting Angelus were just another part of the job."

"You sounded almost clinical, Willow," Jenny added.  "You gave the impression that any impact you may have had on Angel's life was a mistake, and what's worse, one that you regret."

"But it *was* a mistake," Willow reminded them, jumping up to pace distractedly in front of the couch.  "I didn't mean to..." Willow trailed off.  She came to a stop and looked around at the evidence of Angel's remarkable achievements.  "I never meant for all of this to happen," she said as she lifted her arms to indicate Slayer Central.

Giles sighed.  "We understand that, Willow.  We understand that you tried *very* hard not to change the timeline.  It was an admirable effort, but it didn't quite work out that way.  Whether you intended to or not, you had a profound impact on Angel's life.  All of our lives, when you truly think about it."  Giles paused, as if choosing his words very carefully.  "Perhaps you should try not to seem so ashamed of what we've become, especially Angel."

"Ashamed?  I'm not ashamed...not of Angel...not of any of you, Giles!" Willow groaned as she sank down onto the couch, leaned her head against its back and covered her face with her hands.  "I didn't mean to make it sound that way."

"I know that, Willow.  So does Jenny."

She sat up to look at Giles, her eyes beseeching.  "Does Angel really think that I'm ashamed of him?"

"It's conceivable that he considers your rather reluctant and sketchy details about your shared past as rejection or even disgust."

"Well that's...just...dumb..." Willow countered weakly.

Of course that's the way he would take it, she realized.  Bloody hell...subconsciously, had she wanted him to think that?  Shame, like anger, could also build great walls. But there was also the little matter of her privacy.  Did she really need to reveal her entire life to everyone?

"Has it occurred to anyone that maybe I simply don't wish to discuss some of the more private aspects of my life?  Does my life have to be more of an open book than it already is?  Hello?!  You've only been using my diary as reference material for the last two years.  That's embarrassing enough.  Exactly how much more does everyone need to know?"

"Willow, we're not saying you need to publish every detail of your adventures for the world to devour. We're not even suggesting that Buffy and the others need all the details.  But there's a difference between being secretive and being private.  You can have a personal life without being a recluse and shutting out those who care about you most."

Willow considered this for a moment.  They had a point, she reluctantly decided.  Sooner or later, she was going to have to start letting people get close to her again.  Not so easy when you've spent a hundred years putting on a front of one kind or another.

"Maybe you need to quit thinking about everything so much, Willow," Giles suggested.  "After a century of having to watch your every step, analyze your every decision, why not consider simply going with the flow for a while?"

Willow raised a skeptical brow at the librarian.  "That's your big advice, Giles?  Go with the flow?"

Giles pushed his glasses back on his nose.  "Basically, yes."

Jenny joined the librarian and took his hand.  "Maybe you should try listening to your heart for a while, Willow, instead of your head."

Listen to her heart?  Oh yeah, sure, because it had served her so well in the past, hadn't it?  In Galway, her heart had her taking long walks with Angelus, picnics amongst old castle ruins and horseback rides in the fog.  Okay, so maybe her brain was responsible for kissing Angelus in order to win her freedom, but it was definitely her heart that had quickly taken over until she nearly surrendered to the dark promise of his lips and hands.  And while she wasn't positive, the same heart probably had something to do with all the sleep she'd been losing lately, not to mention waking up drenched in sweat amongst tangled sheets almost every night.

Sure, I'll listen to my heart as soon as I you get a nice padded room ready, complete with straight jacket and sedatives, she thought.  Just please don't make it pink.

"Hey, I do listen to my heart sometimes," Willow countered, then added in a softer tone, "But since it just seems to get me into more trouble, I now usually only pay attention to it when my brain tells me it's safe."

"So it's your century-old brain, your highly honed sense of logic and commonsense, advising you that it's better to let Angel be angry?"

Willow grimaced.  When they put it that way, it sounded so...childish. No one ever accused China of being childish, did they?

As she considered this, Willow came to realize she was playing with the necklace she wore under her shirt.  It was her cross, and strung on the same silver chain was the ring.  Angel's ring.  She'd been wearing them both every day, but always keeping them hidden.  Sometimes she even resorted to just burying them in a deep pocket, just as long as she had them with her.

Willow's frown deepened as she wondered how often she'd toyed with the necklace or the ring without even realizing it.

"Willow?"

She sat on her hands to keep them still but she nodded in answer to their question.

"Why?"

"Ah, my brain has this whole China theory going on."  When Giles and Jenny appeared not to follow her abstract line of thinking, she said, "You know, emotional wall building in the 'good fences make good neighbors' line of thinking."

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.  "Well, at least that explains Cordelia's 'tableware' concern."

Jenny remained silent.  Willow hated that knowing look in the other woman's eye.  Which one of them was older, anyway?

"I don't want to hurt Angel, but trust me, it's better this way," Willow assured them.

"Better or easier?"

Willow physically recoiled at Jenny's comment, as if she'd been slapped. "You think this is easy?" she snapped, rising slowly to her feet to look each of them in the eye.  "Let's trade places then.  One of you can be the 135-year-old virgin who's back in high school and living with your parents.  The other one can be so used to lying, pretending to be something that you're not, that sometimes you think you've forgotten how to tell the truth.  Jenny, you take the nightmares and Giles, you can have the crushing feeling that no matter what you do, you'll never, *ever* fit in anywhere again.  But don't worry...there's plenty of guilt for both of you, some of which is actually guilt for not feeling guiltier about lying to everyone for the past three months.  Still sound easy?"

"I didn't say it was easy being you, Willow.  I'm only suggesting that perhaps you're finding it simpler to keep Angel at arm's length than to deal with everything that has happened to you two."

Willow glared at them a little longer, almost wishing she could maintain her anger.  That's when she realized there was more than a ring of truth in their assertions.

She sighed. "Sorry, Jenny...Giles.  I shouldn't have said that.  I know you're only trying to help.  It's been a long night but I promise I'll consider what you said about Angel."

"That's all we ask, Willow," Giles said warmly.

Jenny squeezed Willow's hands.  "May I leave you with one more thought, Willow?"

Willow tried to smile but she was actually a little afraid to hear what else they had to say.  They'd already given her a lot to think about. "Okay, but it better be a small thought...maybe something warm and fuzzy this time?"

"Despite the way Angel's opened his life and his home to all of us, he's still a very private man.  What I mean to say is, I don't think he's is waiting for you to admit to everyone else whatever it was that happened between the two of you, Willow. Perhaps he's just waiting for you to admit it to yourself."

Willow sank back into the couch.  She wanted to disagree, but couldn't. She wanted to deny Jenny's latest suggestion, shoot it down with a reasoned list of counterpoints, but nothing came to mind.  The only clear thought could form in the whirlwind of her mind was a resounding: "Duh!" but she kept the proof of her stupidity to herself.

"And on that note," Jenny continued briskly, "I think we ought to be getting home.  I'll just grab our things, Giles."

Unable to find the courage to look either of them in the eye at that moment, Willow stared at her feet.

Giles sat beside her.  "You'll be okay," he said.

With effort, Willow was able to squeak out a weak: "Eventually."

Giles smiled, and pulled her into an uncharacteristic hug.  "That wasn't a question, Willow," he said close to her ear.

~~~*~~~

It wasn't until Giles and Jenny had left that Willow realized she was alone in the large main room of Slayer Central, Angel's home.  At some point during her heart-to-heart with Jenny and Giles, the others had disappeared.  She heard their muffled voices coming from down the hall, most likely the kitchen.  Willow decided to take the opportunity to try to get herself together.  She was headed for the bathroom, but when she passed the small kitchenette, Xander spotted her.

"Everything okay, Willow?  Can we help?"

Damn...so close.

Willow stepped back into the open doorway, a smile automatically on her face.  "Nothing's wrong. All fine here."

"Whoa."  Xander took a step back, a look on his face that was almost one of fear.  Buffy and Cordelia looked shocked as well. "You know, if it weren't for the tears in your eyes, I'd totally believe you, Willow. You can lie to me now, straight to my face, and I'd completely fall for it."

Willow quickly rubbed away tears that she hadn't even known were there. Giles' embrace and declaration of faith had really gotten to her. "Sorry, Xander.  It's a hard habit to break."

Buffy was holding an unpopped bag of microwave popcorn and Cordelia was clutching a can of Diet Coke.  Xander's face fell.  "You really aren't *our* Willow, are you?"

Willow was dumbstruck as she looked into the plaintive eyes of her old friends.  Yes.  No.  I don't know!  All these answers came to her at once, and all of them felt right and yet somehow wrong.  Instead of answering, she ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.  The cold water felt good as she splashed it on her face, but it didn't wash away the memory of her friends' faces, that 'Who is this person?' look in their eyes, and it didn't drown out everything that Giles and Jenny had said either.

She looked at her reflection through red-brimmed eyes, which gazed back at her with wearily.  "Who is this person?" she whispered to her reflection.  Before her reflection could come up with an answer, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Wills, you decent?"  It was Xander.

Willow couldn't help smiling.  "Talk about your loaded questions."

The door hedged open slowly, then a sheepish Xander stuck his head in, quickly followed by Buffy and Cordelia.

"Willow, I'm sorry about that 'not our Willow' comment.  I was way out of line."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too, Willow," Buffy said, and Cordelia added her regrets as well as they all squeezed into the communal bathroom.  Willow could see the regret in their eyes, but she still didn't blame them for being uncertain about who she was.

"It's okay.  You weren't out of line, Xander.  You were smack dab in the middle of the line, actually."  Willow paused to give them all a shy smile, which she hoped they would know was genuine, then she eased herself back to sit on the bathroom counter.  She looked them each in their worried eyes.  "I was your Willow, once, and I'd like to be your Willow again, but as the Willow that I am now.  Does that make any sense?" Willow could hear the pleading edge to her own voice and had to inwardly admit just how badly she suddenly wanted their acceptance, needed their understanding.  Part of the reason she'd tried to sound so casual when she'd told them about her past was fear.  She knew now that she was terrified of losing them completely.

"I can't be 17 again," she continued, "And I don't want to be.  But I'm still 100% Willowy goodness, just a little more seasoned...sort of extra crispy instead of original recipe..."

Their faces were softening as they listened, worry lines fading, eyes glistening.  Willow wouldn't allow herself to stop now.  "I probably should have told you the truth earlier, but I couldn't. When I got back, everything was just so different. I didn't know what to do.  I needed time to adjust and then when I finally started to feel comfortable, I didn't want to mess that up.  I'll understand if you're angry with me for all the lies, but I need you to know that I never meant to hurt any of you."

Xander spoke up first, edging a bit closer in the crowded bathroom. "We're not mad, Willow.  We're confused and yeah, a little hurt that you've been keeping things from us for so long, but mainly I think we're relieved."

"We thought we were slowly losing you, Willow," Buffy said, "and we didn't know what to do.  But now that we know what the deal is, we can do something about it."

"It won't be easy," Willow said to them all.  "At times it'll probably feel downright strange because there are so many memories we don't share, things that I never got to do with all of you.  Like being here at Slayer Central, the T-shirts you made for Angel, the pizza sleepovers, and so many other little things that I've lost track of them all, and that's only the differences that I know about!  I don't want to even think about the number of great conversations and memorable moments that I've I missed.  And then there are the memories I have of you guys, things that have never happened in this timeline."

"Tell us one, Willow," Cordelia said eagerly.  "Something we wouldn't know about."

Willow grinned.  "I'd love to, but do you think we could leave the bathroom first?  As thrilled as I am to be around modern plumbing again, I don't think this is quite the appropriate place for our first heart-to-heart." As they all laughed in agreement, Willow slid off the counter.  "Hey, did you ever finish making that popcorn, Buffy?  I'm starving."

Buffy looped her arm through Willow's and led her out the door.  "Nope," she said with a warm smile.  "We were waiting for you."

*****

After shoveling a few unladylike handfuls of popcorn into her mouth, Willow sat back on the kitchen counter and regarded her friends with a smile.

"Come on, Wills.  We're waiting for our story."

Willow pulled her knees up to her chin, smiling as a bunch of different stories came to mind.  She tried to pick one that really reflected what she was like at 17 and one particular anecdote seemed to stand out.

"Buffy, there was this time our junior year that you and Angel were kinda having a hard time, so you decided to go to a party at Kent University, and--"

"Oh god," Buffy blushed.  "The reptile frat?  Please don't remind me. Not one of my shining Slayer moments."

Willow sat up and slipped off the counter.  She hadn't heard their version of this event before.  "You mean, this happened to you too?  You still went to the party even without the argument between you and Angel?"

"Yeah, Cordy dragged me along and I was in kind of a rebellious mood.  I felt like between Giles' and Angel's training, I didn't have any time to just be a teenager."

"Yeah, that's kind of how you felt then too, about Giles anyway."

"So what happened?  I take it we still won, bringing down the heads of several corporations at the same time?"

Xander cleared his throat.  "And please tell me that I didn't...um...tag along, uninvited."

"Okay, Xander, I won't tell you that you dressed up like a girl in order to keep an eye on Buffy."

Xander groaned.  "Damn!  It seems like no matter what timeline I'm in, I'm still the butt-monkey!"

"What happened, Willow?" Cordelia asked, ignoring her boyfriend's whining.

"Well, when Angel and Giles found out that Buffy went to the party, they weren't happy, but for different reasons.  And I stuck up for Buffy, to both of them, which believe me, wasn't a big trait of mine back them.  I distinctly remember telling Giles that he was killing you with pressure. That you were sixteen going on forty.  And Angel, well, it was when he was going through his, 'I'm an old vampire, we come from two different worlds' phase.  I said to him, 'You're gonna live forever! You don't have time for a cup of coffee?'"  Willow smiled at the memory.  She'd been so proud of herself for speaking her mind to the two men.  She'd always been too in awe of Giles to disagree with him before.  And Angel? She still wasn't sure where she'd found the courage to speak to him so boldly that night.

Buffy grimaced.  "That is too weird, Willow.  The whole me and Angel thing just seems wrong.  Oh yeah...you and I are *so* going to have a long talk about this, Willow."

"What about me and Cordy?  You sure we were together?" Xander asked, getting a punch in the arm from his girlfriend as a result.

Willow laughed.  "Yep, which I guess means that you two must really be destined for each other."

Xander sat on Cordelia's lap.  "Hear that, Cordy?  I'm your destiny."

Cordelia pretended to grimace, but Willow could tell that she actually loved every moment of it.  "Then I must have done something really, really horrible in a past life."

They shared a laugh, then Willow said, "But more importantly, lots of things are the same, too."  She turned to Xander.  "For example, in the 'same' column, Xander, you were still my best friend ever since you gave me your yellow crayon in kindergarten when I broke mine, remember?"

"Of course."

"And Buffy, I bet we've watched a million John Cuzack movies together, haven't we?"  Buffy nodded.  "And how many times have we played 'anywhere but here'?"

"Zillions of times, Willow," she replied with tears in her eyes.

Willow couldn't seem to stop smiling now.  It was a genuine smile which she felt all the way down to her toes, so she didn't want to stop.  It felt too good.

"And Cordy, I have to admit I don't have many warm and fuzzy memories about you because...well..."

"I was an uber-bitch?"

Willow laughed.  "Well, yeah, that and the fact that I was incredibly jealous and hurt when you and Xander started spending time together in the janitor's closet."

Xander did a double take.  "Hold on...you were jealous?"

"Well, yeah. Duh! I'd only had this huge crush on you since that fateful day in kindergarten."

"You had a crush on me?"

All the girls simultaneously rolled their eyes.  "Boys," Cordelia huffed.  "They are so clueless."

"Yep, no matter what timeline," Buffy agreed.

The gang shared a few more laughs and memorable incidents before Willow grew serious again.

"I'm guessing you probably have a lot more questions for me about what happened.  Before you start though, just know that I'm going to do my best to tell the truth.  I've been living one lie or another for so long now, more than a century, that it's almost habitual now.  And the only person I'm used to being completely honest with is...well, not here. But there are some things that are personal, you know?  I won't lie to you but I may have to plead the fifth occasionally, okay?"

Grinning from ear to ear, Xander stood up.  "Willow, if we ever had any doubts that you're Willow, they're gone now after that classic Willow-babble.  Welcome back," he said, opening his arms.  Willow melted into his hug and when Buffy and Cordelia joined in, all of their tears mingled together.

After a long while, Willow finally broke away so they could all wipe the dampness from their cheeks.  "I'm ready for those questions," she sniffed.  "Who wants to go first?"

And in true Scooby Gang fashion, they all started talking at once.

~~~*~~~

"Kicked out of your own bloody home, ay?"

At the unwanted sound of Spike's voice, Angel didn't bother to look up from where he sat perched on a fat tombstone, weeding, in case simply seeing Spike's face magnified his desire to give it another disfiguring scar or two. Instead, the viciousness with which he yanked the offending greens out of the ground increased tenfold.

Angel was in the tiny, nearly forgotten cemetery behind his home. Corralled within the white picket fence were less than a dozen tombstones, their names and dates made unreadable by the ravages of time. While its inhabitants may have been long forgotten, the small plot of land still looked meticulously well-kept.  This was where Angel sometimes came to clear his mind, and while he was lost in thought, he'd weed.  With Willow's return, Angel had been doing a lot of thinking, which meant that his graveyard rivaled Sunnydale's newer cemeteries in the maintenance department.

Buffy often teased him that it would make a great cover for an upcoming issue of 'Better Crypts and Memorial Gardens'.

Tonight his weeding was born of the need to rein in his anger and frustration.  After storming out of Slayer Central over an hour ago, his first thought had been to take out his frustrations on the local vampire population.  Luckily, Angel innately realized that he wasn't in the right state of mind for such a confrontation.  He was too preoccupied with the evening's events to keep his mind on the fight.

And how many times had he warned everyone else about the danger of distraction?  He may be upset, but he didn't have another death wish....

As he concentrated on ridding the small graveyard of dandelions and clover, it wasn't long before he had come to realize that his anger was actually a secondary reaction to a more pervasive emotion.

He felt rejected.

Yep...Willow had hurt his feelings all right.  It wasn't a very manly emotion, let alone demonly or vampiric, but it was the truth.

Not that he'd expected Willow to stand center stage and share every intimate detail of the different incarnations of their relationship, but he hadn't expected her to calmly sit there and act as if they'd barely exchanged two words, let alone anything else, as Rose and Angelus.

And the lies?  God he was sick of the lies!  He ached, body and soul, from continually having to pretend that his life wasn't completely entangled with Willow's.

Even if, in Willow's opinion, he hadn't played an important role in her life, he still longed to share with everyone just how significant Willow, in the guise of Rose, had been in his past.  He wanted to tell the world, or at least their small corner of it known as Slayer Central, how influential Willow had been in making him 'Angel'.

She hadn't simply given him a soul.  She'd given him a purpose.

Unfortunately, Willow still seemed to want to keep that tiny truth under wraps.

And it hurt, which made him angry...so he'd resorted to plucking clover, none of which were four-leafed, of course.

"Hope you're gardening skills are better than your people skills," Spike said in a smooth, sly tone.  "Still have that black thumb for *all* living things, Angelus?"

Damn...it didn't look like ignoring Spike was going to work.  Why should it when it never had before?

"Just happen to be strolling by again, Spike?" Angel asked as he tried to concentrate on his task.  "In the neighborhood?  Aren't I always the lucky one?  Let me guess.  You're simply checking in on Red, right?" Angel yanked out a dandelion with particularly lengthy roots, sending soil everywhere.

Oddly enough, seeing Spike blink as the dirt flew into his eyes, Angel actually felt a little better.  He was tired of all the games, and that included Spike's.  Angel's anger and frustration had a new target, and he wasn't going to let Spike get to him this time.

Angel slowly stood and brushed off his hands, and then gave Spike a bored look. "What would she ever do without you, Spike?  And wouldn't it be nice to find out?"

Spike smirked as he flicked a small dirt clod from his duster towards the other vampire.  "So, when they heard the truth about what you'd done to her, they booted you out of their club.  To think, Angel blackballed out of his own home.  It's bloody priceless."

Shaking his head, Angel stifled a long yawn, keeping his gaze on the other vampire the whole time.  "Is that all you've got, Spike?  Because it's getting old.  Yes, I did horrible things.  Yes, Willow may never forgive me.  Yes, I have a soul now thanks in part to you.  Yes, yes, yes.  Yadda, Yadda, Yadda."  Angel took a step closer, his face a mask of boredom and indifference.  "Your story's getting stale, Spike." Angel made a show off sniffing the air and then wrinkling his nose. "And so are you."

Spike's jaw twitched.  "Red doesn't think so."

Angel found it highly gratifying that it had actually taken Spike a moment to come up with some sort of retort, and it wasn't much of one at that.

"Oh, there's an original line, Spikey," Angel said with a cool half-smile.  "Why don't we chat about something different for a change. Let's see...what could we discuss?  Oh, how about, I don't know, what you'll do the day you finally realize that the only way for Willow to be happy is for you to get the hell out of her life?"

Only the slight pursing of Spike's lips told Angel that his words had hit their mark.

"That day'll never come, Angelus.  Although I think the day for you to leave Red alone has come and gone...several times...but if you hurry, I bet you can catch it."

"Yadda, yadda, yadda.  Difference is, Spike-my-boy, if Willow asked me to leave, I would."

Spike let out a soft snorting laugh before he pursed his lips and looked away.  "Riiiight.  Sure you would, you bloody great poof.  Because you've always been so selfless when it comes to Willow, haven't you?"

Angel stalked closer, until he was fully enveloped in the aroma of leather and smoke and particularly the familiar underlying scent of his William.  With some effort, he was able to ignore the painful memories the latter scent induced.  "I would," he repeated thickly.  "Would you?"

Spike paused, his eyes wide but not meeting Angel's.  He'd definitely struck a chord this time.

"Not going to happen," Spike insisted weakly as he sidestepped Angel, and for a moment, Angel thought he was actually getting through.  He hoped so, for Willow's sake. Before Spike turned away, Angel saw more emotions cross his face than he'd ever seen before.

"She'll never want me to bloody leave," Spike went on to say, "but if I do go, she'll beg to tag along."

"Do you really think Willow would give up her family and friends to play second chair to Drusilla for the rest of her life?"

Spike spun around and all traces of those softer emotions were gone. Maybe he'd pushed too far.

"Family and friends?" Spike laughed, advancing on Angel this time.  "You mean the pathetic parents that are never around?  The ones that don't even notice they're daughter suddenly *matured* over night?  And friends?  What bloody friends?  In case you haven't noticed, she's miserable here with her so-called friends.  Or maybe she's just miserable because of you."

"And you think Willow would be happier with you?"

"She *is* happier with me, wanker."

"Now?"

"Always."

"Dead or alive?"

Spike's mouth opened, but Angel would never know what he was about to say because the blond vampire caught himself in time, slamming his mouth shut so hard that Angel wouldn't be surprised if he'd chipped a fang or two.  So much for hoping he'd just come clean and admit his plans for Willow.

Angel shrugged, feigning nonchalance although the subject made him feel anything but relaxed.  "I knew you were too selfish to do what's right."

"Oh, and you're so selfless, right?  You'd never do anything to hurt Willow...never demand more than she's able to give."

Angel tried not to flinch.  While his William may have always been good at pushing buttons, Spike truly seemed to have perfected the skill to the level of an actual art form.

The small fact that Spike actually had a point didn't hurt either.

But no matter how right Spike was, no matter how many buttons he pushed, Angel wasn't going to let him go that easily.  It was time that Spike also started to face some hard truths.

"I know what you're up to, Spike.  She may believe that you don't have plans to sire her, but I don't.  Promises mean nothing to you.  Lying to you is like breathing to the living. It comes naturally, without thought."

"Still quite the poet, aren't you, Angelus. Read any 'Romeo and Juliet' to Willow lately?  Maybe some Poe just to wrench a few panic attacks out of the girl?"

Angel clucked his tongue at the vampire.  "Now, now, Spike.  You're starting to repeat yourself again.  And you didn't answer the question...or did you?"

Spike laughed then started to feel his pockets for his cigarettes, which didn't surprise Angel in the slightest.  It was just another one of the blond vampire's habits.  Whenever Spike wasn't sure what else to do or say, he started looking for his fags.  Angel smirked as Spike's hands moved deftly from pocket to pocket.  Never taking his eyes from Spike's, Angel easily plucked the pack from its hiding place.  They were always in the same pocket, and yet Spike made a big show of searching for them every time.

Angel held the pack tightly in front of Spike's face.  "One day she'll see through your act, Spike.  One day Willow is going to realize just what you really are."

Spike licked his lips.  "With a little help from you, no doubt."

"I'll do what I have to do to keep her safe."  Angel released his hold on the pack, but Spike's preternatural reflexes enabled him to catch the cigarettes before gravity could have much of an effect.  Still holding Angel's cold gaze, Spike slipped one between his lips, but before Spike could find his lighter, Angel was holding out a match, flicking the tip with a fingernail to ignite it.  Spike looked from the dancing flame back to Angel, then smirked as he took the lighter out of the front pocket of his jeans.

"She won't believe you, Angel," Spike said as he languidly lit is own cigarette.  "She'll never believe you over me.  All you'll do is push her away.  So feel free to tell her your little theory, mate.  Your latest paranoid pack of bloody lies.  It couldn't make her mistrust you much more than she already does.  Just keeping pushing, Angelus, and I'll be there, as always, to catch her when she falls."

Angel didn't flinch as the flame burned down to his finger and extinguished itself on his skin.  Unseen, though, his heart fell at Spike's words.  He was right...again.  Willow wouldn't believe him, and all his accusations, no matter how correct, would only push her farther away.  For him, it was a no-win situation.

"I'll leave you to your gardening then, Angelus," Spike finally said through an exhaled cloud of smoke.  "I'll just stop by Red's later, when there won't be so many distractions."

Angel let the match float to the ground as he watched the other vampire stroll away.  The glowing ember of Spike cigarette faded in the distance, and with it, so did the rest of Angel's anger for what Willow had said, and not said, earlier that night.

Not that playing by Willow's newest rules wasn't going to be easy.  It was going to hurt like hell to be nothing more than some goal she'd met when she'd restored his soul permanently. But as much as Willow's denials and omissions hurt, he had very little right to expect anything of Willow. He'd forfeited all rights concerning her when he'd lost his soul, further renouncing them every time he'd hurt her after that.  And that last night right before his soul had been returned to him?  His ultimate, albeit unfulfilled, plans for Willow destroyed any title he had for anything other than her hatred, fear and loathing.

Angel shuddered at the memory of that night in the woods.  He could still clearly see her horror-stricken face, smell her fear in the air, hear her screams.  He could still taste her blood, feel the way the soft skin of her neck....

Angel choked down a sudden burning bout of nausea.  If his memories were so vivid after more than a century, then Willow's memories of that night, mere infants in comparison...

No.  He had no right to be angry....

Just as Angel was reconsidering going out into the night to look for a good fight, the was the faint sound of footsteps behind him.

"Angel, you better get in here."

Angel spun around.  Xander had come around the side of the church and was regarding him with a grim look.

With a mounting sense of doom, Angel followed Xander, taking the front steps three at a time and practically beating Xander through the door. Buffy and Cordelia were sitting atop one of the round tables, their arms crossed over their chests and unamused looks on their faces.  Willow was standing at the bookshelf behind them, pretending to be engrossed in a large, spiral-bound book.  She stiffened as he drew near, and yet she didn't look up. Not a good sign.

"What's up?" he asked.

"We just thought you might want to defend yourself against some of Willow's accusations," Buffy said in a grim voice.

Ah.  That explained all the grave faces.  Because of his earlier goading, it looked like Willow had finally decided to tell them the truth.  If he didn't already regret his hasty words of anger earlier, he certainly did now.  He had pushed, just as Spike said he would, but instead of falling, this was Willow's response.

It would serve him right if Willow told them every vile thing he'd ever done to her.  And there was nothing to do now but face the music.

Angel swallowed. "Everything she said about me is absolutely true."

"Everything?"  Buffy asked, exchanging wide-eyed looks with Cordelia. "Sorry, but I don't believe it."

"Me neither," Cordelia said.

Willow spun around to stare at Buffy with a look of shock. "Are you calling me a liar?"

Buffy shrugged, surveying Angel from top to bottom with the cool hazel eyes of a slayer. "You've got to admit that it's a little hard to accept, Willow.  This is *our* Angel we're talking about, after all."

Angel couldn't believe they were doubting Willow's story.  How could they think she was lying about what a monster he'd been?  How many times had he told them what Angelus had been capable of?  "You should believe her, Buffy.  I'm everything she said I was."

"Yeah, right!" Cordelia said in that dismissive tone that she'd mastered years ago.

Buffy slid off the table and took a few steps closer, still looking at Angel with skepticism in her eyes.  "Do you really expect us to believe that all the girls in Ireland were in love with you?"

"Hey, I only said *half* the girls in *Galway* were in love with Angelus, remember?" Willow said indignantly, then her voice softened. "The other half pretended not to be but still swooned whenever he walked by."

Buffy was smiling now, they all were.  Even Willow.  But Angel wasn't. He was confused.

"I dunno," Buffy said, glancing over her shoulder at Willow.  "That's still pretty hard to believe."

"It's not hard to believe the other things she said though," Xander said, coming up from behind Angel to stand next to the others.

It took Angel a long moment to realize they were teasing him.  It took even longer for the deeper implications to sink in.  Willow had been telling them more about their past.  Exactly what, he wasn't sure, but if the looks they were giving him meant anything, she'd told them something embarrassing.  It was a start.

"Dare I ask what else Willow told you?"

"She said you were kind of full of yourself," Cordelia said in a tone that left little doubt just how much she was enjoying getting one up on the vampire.

"Cordelia, I did not say that!" Willow exclaimed in a convincingly shocked tone.  "What I said was that he was cocky, smug, arrogant and thought he was God's gift to women."  Then she smiled at him, and the twinkle in her eyes made it hard for Angel to think straight and defend himself against their relentless teasing.

"Which just goes to prove my theory that their original personalities don't change much just because a demon moves in," Xander said, elbowing Buffy.

Angel bit back a playful growl at the boy's verbal slight.  He'd let them have their fun at his expense for now, but he couldn't wait for Xander's next training session.  He'd make sure the boy was too tired to talk for days.  That thought alone made him smile.

Willow tossed her book on the table then joined the others.  They presented quite the united front.  "I thought it was about time they knew the truth, don't you?"

Xander draped an arm across her shoulders.  "Yeah, apparently Willow was tired of covering for you, Dead Boy."

Covering for me, huh?  "What else did you tell them?" he asked Willow, not actually sure what he wanted the answer to be.

"Not too much, I was waiting for you," she said with a suspiciously sweet smile.

Xander's grin widened.  "She told us how you met for the first time."

Buffy shook her head and clucked her tongue.  "Angel the jailbird...who'd have thought it."

He was never going to live this down, which was not a good thing when you were immortal.

"Oh, and Wills also said you were some sort of farmer," Xander informed him happily.  He let go of Willow to lean back against the table.

Willow laughed.  "I didn't say he was a farmer, Xander, I said he was a *rake*."  She lowered her voice a bit.  "You know...a rogue."

Angel had to hold back a laugh when Xander, Cordelia and Buffy still looked confused.

She tried again.  "He was a bit of a scoundrel."

Ah, a Star Wars anecdote, Angel noted.  That ought to do it, at least for Xander.

Xander didn't disappoint as the Han Solo reference hit home.  "Oh, I get it!" he exclaimed.  "Angel was not nice men."

Notably relieved that Xander was finally catching on, Willow nodded, then looked to the others to see if they understood.

"Oh, you mean Angel was a horn dog," Cordelia finally added in a matter of fact tone that would have made Angel blush if it wasn't all so comical.  This wasn't quite how he'd figured the truth would come out.

Willow at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed on his behalf as she peaked at him through lowered lashes. "Let's just say that Angelus enjoyed the company of women."

"I bet that made him real popular with the guys at the local bar," Xander said

Buffy appeared to be trying not to laugh.  "Sure, as long as he was buying the drinks and not flirting with their wives, they probably loved him, too."

Ouch.  "You three do realize I'm standing right here, don't you?"

Xander laughed as he turned to Willow.  "Yeah, he already told us that he was a lush and probably would have drunk himself to death if it hadn't been for that girl he fell in love with."

Willow stiffened slightly, which Angel took as a sign that she'd had enough truth for one night.  It was starting to get a little too personal.

Angel cleared his throat again.  "It's, uh, getting late.  Don't you people have homes?  Families that might like to remember what you look like?  Pet rocks that need to be fed?"

To Angel's chagrin, the teenagers only grinned more, and then began making themselves comfortable.

"Hey, Willow, did you ever get to meet this mysterious girl that made Angel change his ways?" Xander asked, taking a seat at the table, next to Cordy. "My guess is she was a farmer's daughter.  No, wait, a *minister's* daughter.  That would have explained his new leaf turnage. Or...or maybe she was...the daughter..."  Xander turned an exasperated face to Cordelia, who'd been poking him in the ribs and trying to get his attention.  "What?"

"You *so* need to buy a clue, Xander."  Cordelia lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, and Angel could tell she was looking at him through the corner of her eyes.  Today, at least, she appeared to be the brains of the couple.   "Angel told us the name of his mystery woman a few times, do you remember it?"

Angel had to try to stop this conversation one more time, before Xander put two and two together.  "Hey, guys, it's late.  I could drive you all home...or call a cab," Angel offered weakly as he took a few steps toward the door, hoping they'd get the hint.  "Hell, let's celebrate...limo's on me!"

"Sure I do," Xander chirped, still cheerfully ignoring him.  "Wasn't it Lily?  Daisy?  Tulip?"

Cordelia and Buffy swapped annoyed looks.  "It was *Rose*," Buffy reminded him.

"That's right, Rose!"  Xander turned back to Willow, not seeming to notice the blush slowly tinting her cheeks.  Angel was pleased to note that Willow didn't turn away.  She looked Xander right in the eye, her eyebrow raised as she waited for realization to find the boy.  It was taking a while.   Angel was tempted to help realization along with a smack to the back of Xander's head.

"So, Willow, did you ever meet this mysterious Rose?" Xander actually asked.

Willow shook her slightly, somehow managing to find humor in the awkward situation. "I guess you could say I met her."

Buffy's eyes were huge as she and Cordelia murmured, "Wow!" and "No wonder," under their breath.

"So, what was this hot medieval babe like, Willow?" Xander continued, rubbing his hands together in adolescent glee as he glanced between a pink-cheeked Willow and a slowly simmering Angel. "Angel would never give us any details, so all our nosey adolescent desires are pinned on you right now, Willow."

Angel'd had enough.  "Medieval?" he growled.  "That's it!  No graduation cruise for you!  Just how old do you think I am?  Did you learn nothing about world history in summer school?"

Willow appeared to be trying not to laugh as she rescued Xander from Angel's ire.  She took his hands in her own and looked him straight in the eye.  "Xander, when I was back in time, I went by the name Rose. Remember?"

"Oh."  Then Xander's eyes tripled in size and it was his turn to blush. "Ohhhh...!  *You* were Rose!"

"Angel fell in love with you, Willow," Buffy sighed, a dreamy smile on her face.  "And you fell in love with him."

Angel froze, prepared for Willow's denial, expecting it, but it never came. Instead she flashed him a nervous grin then said, "Living Angelus fell in love with Rose, and, yes, 17-year-old Willow, a.k.a. Rose, also fell in love with him."

Cordelia sighed, shaking her head.  "God, that is so much more romantic than making out in the janitorial closet."

Xander finally found his tongue.  "So it was you, Willow.  You're the one that made Angel what he is today."

While Willow took a deep breath, Angel found himself holding his. Again, he was prepared for her denial, expecting it, but still hoping for the truth.

"No... " Willow began, and Angel felt a familiar stab slice of pain cut deep through to his soul, but then she continued, "Angel made *himself* what he is today.  I simply pointed Angelus in the right direction.  You should all be very proud of what Angel has accomplished over the past century, what he's become." Willow looked at him, her smile soul-healing, and said, "I know I am.  Very proud."

There...I said it...and it felt good, it felt right, Willow realized and then she was grinning.  She only hoped she didn't look as goofy as Angel did at that moment.  He was smiling madly as well.  Actually, everyone in the room had big cheesy grins on their faces.

"Gee, Angel, you act like you've never heard a compliment before," Cordelia teased.

"Never one that counted."

Willow and Angel were still smiling at each other when Buffy suddenly jumped up.  "Um, you know, I think Angel's right.  It's time Mom and I spent some quality time together."  Buffy tugged on the Xander's sleeve and then made a pointed look at the door.

"Oh, yeah, right," Xander said.  "I think it's about time I spent some quality time with Buffy's mom, too."  He grabbed Cordelia by the hand and started dragging her toward the door.

"Wait, hold on," Cordelia whined, trying to wriggle out of Xander's grasp.  "I have more questions...I *need* details!"

As the teens scrambled for the door, Willow and Angel overheard Xander say, "Hey, what I want to know is, if they were in love and, to quote Willow: 'Angelus enjoyed the company of women,' just how much of Willow's, er, *company* did he enjoy?"

"Obviously the fully-clothed kind, Xander.  Virgin, remember?" Buffy answered impatiently, still trying to guide them out of the door.

"Oh yeah," Xander replied.  "Whoa...I'd hate to be her first...well...you know!  After 100 years of waiting your expectations are probably pretty high.  That's a lot of pressure on a guy to perform."

Willow winced and looked away while she reminded herself exactly why she'd saved Xander's life, because at times like this, it was easy to wonder if she'd done the right thing.

Angel cleared his throat.  "Um, guys," he called after them, "Why don't you walk Willow home.  Even though there haven't been any more unusual vampire attacks, it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye out.  Just in case."

Buffy stuck her head back in the door.  She looked disappointed.  "But don't you and Willow want to talk?"

"I think Willow's talked enough for one night, don't you?"

Willow was pleasantly surprised.  For a change, Angel didn't want to get into a long heavy conversation about their past.  Maybe she should have told the truth a lot sooner, she thought wryly.  Still, there were a few things she needed to say to the vampire.

"Thanks, Angel."  Willow glanced at the others. "But can you give us just a second?  I'll be right out, okay?"

"Sure," Buffy said with a wink, then slipped outside.

Angel leaned back against the nearest table, his arms crossed over his chest.  He was still wearing that contagious grin.  It made Willow reluctant to say anything that might take that smile away.  Even though she'd berated him many times for smiling too much compared to the old Angel, she still had the feeling that he used to do a lot more of it before her return.

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier, Angel," she said carefully.  "I was being selfish and cowardly and inconsiderate."

"Willow, I would never associate *any* of those words with you.  I, on the other hand, may have been a little..."

"I think *pushy* is the word you're looking for."

Angel chuckled.  "I was actually thinking *impatient*, but I'll trust your judgment in this case.  Pushy and cowardly, eh?"

"Yep, our very own special version of oil and water," Willow said with a self-conscious laugh.  "Well, I guess I better go face the music, get it over with.  I know they'll have a million more questions by the time they get me home."

Willow grabbed her guitar from one of the computer chairs and headed for the door but then stopped.  "Angel," she began, not quite finding the courage to turn to face him, "what should I tell them about us now? They're bound to ask."

There was a pause before Angel answered.  "You should tell them the truth, Willow.  That it was a very long time ago when we were in love and that we obviously aren't the same people now that we were then."

"I'll tell them that.  That's good, Angel.  The truth is good."

Angel took a few tentative steps closer and Willow turned to face him.

"Maybe you should also say that we still have some issues to work through, but that we're friends now."  Angel paused, then added hopefully, "Do you think you can say that?"

"Yeah," Willow smiled.  "I can say that, too.  Telling the truth feels good for a change."

"Thank you, Willow, for telling the truth.  It meant a lot to me."

Willow tightened the grip on the handle of her guitar case.  "Well, they wanted to know what you were *really* like when you were alive, and I didn't want to disappoint them."

Angel laughed.  "Xander's never going to let me live it all down, Willow.  Did you have to tell him that half the lasses in Galway were in love with me?"

"Sorry, but since honesty is my new policy, I had to tell the truth, didn't I?"  Still grinning, Willow decided it was time to get while the getting was good.  She was afraid if she stayed much longer, one of them would say something to ruin the good mood.  "Well, I should go.  All this talking and truth telling is hard work and I think I'm a little out of shape in that department.  I'm exhausted."

"Be careful, Willow."

"I'm always careful, Angel.  Besides, I have three people walking me home and nothing strange has happened for over a month now.  Not a single set of out-of-town triplet vampires has attacked me, no new demons we can't handle.  I'll be fine."

"I'm more worried about Spike, actually."

Willow could tell by the way Angel flinched that he hadn't actually meant to speak those words aloud.  No matter what she said, he was never going to fully trust Spike, and that was something she was going to have to learn to live with sooner or later.  The two vampires would probably never see eye-to-eye but that didn't mean she had to take sides.

Willow shook her head with mock severity.  "You know, because you're my friend and you're saying that out of worry for me, I'll let it slide. Still, it's my cue to leave.  I want to rush home and note this in my journal.  I think this is probably the 100th time you've told me how dangerous Spike is."

"Only 100?" Angel said, following the redhead to the door.  "I'm negligent in my duties then."

"There's that pushy thing again, Angel.  You really should work on that."

"I'll see what I can do, Willow," he said with a grin as he opened the front door.  Buffy, Cordelia and Xander were waiting on the steps and looked up at them expectantly.  "I'm a little surprised none of you had your ears pressed up against the door."

"We tried," Cordelia said bluntly, "but that damn door of yours was too thick to hear anything."

As Willow descended the steps, the others joined her.  She paused at the bottom and turned to Angel.

"Night, Angel, and thank you," she said, truly meaning it.  For the first time in a long time, Willow could actually see the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel, and she wanted to share that new-found optimism with the vampire.  She needed Angel to know that she truly felt that they could make it through this and become genuine friends with time.

Angel smiled in return, which was all the 'thank you and you're welcome' she needed.

"Goodnight and be careful," Angel told them all as they headed down the sidewalk.  "And take it easy on Willow with the questions. She's had a long day already."

"Don't worry, Deadboy," Xander replied with a wink.  "We'll be gentle."

*****

"So, you and Angel are just friends now?" Buffy asked.

They'd kept their questions simple and the conversation light, as instructed, but Willow wasn't surprised when they asked more about her relationship with Angel.  Luckily, they didn't interrogate her regarding what had happened after he was turned.  They focused instead on those few short weeks that she and Angelus were together in Galway and the state of their relationship now.

"Yeah, just friends," she admitted.  "It's hard though, with all the history, but like I told you before, we aren't the same people we were back in Galway."

"No, I guess you couldn't really just pick up where you left off, could you?  Not even if you wanted to?"

Willow shook her head.

"That explains so much though, doesn't it?" Xander asked, looking to Cordelia and Buffy.  "Angel's been different lately too.  At least now we know why."

Suddenly the Slayer stopped walking.  Her whole body tensed.

"What's wrong?" Cordelia asked.

"Vampire.  I can feel one nearby."  Buffy produced a stake out of her back pocket as her hazel eyes searched the surrounding darkness.

"It's Spike," Willow said nonchalantly as she continued down the sidewalk.  "He's been following us.  Probably wants to talk to me but doesn't want to interrupt."  Willow stopped and turned to stare at a tall hedge that divided her house from the neighbor's.  "Isn't that right, Spike?"

"Way to blow my rep, pet."  Spike sauntered out the shadows towards a grinning Willow.  He didn't spare a glance for the others.  "You're making me sound all protective and gallant.  Not very demonly."

"Really?  I was trying to paint you in more of a considerate stalker kinda mode.  You know...evil yet dependable."

He put a friendly arm about her shoulder.  "So, how'd it go, Red?  They forgive you for associating with the big bad?"

Xander cleared his throat.  "In case you didn't notice, 'they' are standing right here, stakes in hand, angry looks on their faces, and a song in their hearts."

Spike gave the Scooby Gang a quick once over, shrugged, then turned his attention back to Willow.

Buffy walked up to Spike and stood directly in front of him.  "And it's not exactly like she had a choice, Spike.  You did kidnap her after all."

Willow couldn't help herself. "You know, you were his second choice, Xander."

"Me?"

"He needed a virgin, and apparently they aren't as abundant in Sunnydale as one might think."

Xander blushed.  "I don't know what you're talking about, Willow." He looked at Spike.  "I don't know what gave you the impression that I'm a--"

"Um, hello?" Cordelia interrupted.  "Why are we even having a conversation with Spike?"

Willow frowned slightly, but she understood how strange it must be for them to see her and Spike this way for the first time.  It was simply too soon for the teens to understand her relationship with the vampire when they still didn't know the entire story. "Because, as I told you earlier, he's my friend."

Buffy pocketed her stake, but her piercing slayer gaze never left Spike. "You have *us* now, Willow.  You don't need him anymore."

Spike shook his head.  "And so it begins..." he mumbled.

Willow caught his mutterings.  "And so *what* begins?"

"Later, pet," Spike said after a short pause to return the teenagers' glares.  He turned to Willow.  "Why don't I leave you with your so-called friends, and we'll catch up later, when the Scabby Gang here isn't feeling quite so pubescent and possessive."

"Ooh...big words, Spike," Buffy drawled.  "Spending a century with Willow must have raised your IQ level a whole half-point."

Willow had to stop herself from telling her friends to lay off the vampire.  After all, he could take care of himself, right?  He would probably find it embarrassing if she came to the big bad's rescue.  She held her tongue and said nothing, but when she met Spike's gaze, there was a strange look on his face, but before she could make heads or tails of the situation, Spike was retreating from the group. He winked at her, which drew groans from the others but made her smile because he seemed like his old self again, and then he sank into the surrounding darkness.

"Thanks, Spike," Willow called after him.  "And good night."

A few minutes later, Willow said her good-byes to the gang, waved, and went inside her house.  Exhausted, she set her guitar by the door and then headed into the kitchen.

She wasn't surprised to find Spike leaning on the open door of her refrigerator, peering inside.  He'd surprised her once like this before after she'd accidently left the French doors of her second-floor bedroom unlocked.

"No wine, Red?"

"Nope, no wine *white*, either."

"Funny, pet."  Spike kicked the door closed, then jumped up to sit on the counter next to the sink.

"I hope you made sure my parents weren't home before you let yourself in."

Spike smirked.  "When are they ever home, Red?"

Willow slumped into the nearest kitchen chair.  "Good point," she said, unsuccessfully trying to hide a yawn.  She lay her head down on her folded arms on the table and closed her eyes.  "I don't mean to be a party pooper, Spike, but it's late and I'm exhausted."

"Ah, I see."

Willow's eyes popped open at the strange tone to his voice.  She sat up. "You see what?"

Spike shook his head as he took out a cigarette and his lighter, all without looking at Willow.

Wearily, Willow rose from the chair to pluck the cigarette out of his mouth and blow out his lighter.  He knew better than to smoke in her parents' house.  "You see what?" she repeated as she shoved the unlit cigarette back into his pack.

"Didn't think they'd get to you this fast, Red."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Spike studied her for a moment and Willow found it hard to hold his intense gaze.  Then his jaw clenched and he looked away.  "Forget I said anything, love."

"How about you actually say something first, then I'll forget you said it?"

Spike grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and stood up. "It's to be expected, Red," he said in a softer tone.  "I understand."

Willow sighed as she followed Spike out the back door and down to the patio.  She hated it when he went all cryptic on her.

She tugged on the sleeve of his duster, making him turn to face her. "Understand what, Spike?  Care to share with the rest of the class?"

Spike shook his head as he once again took out a cigarette and lit it, all without meeting her eyes.  He stared up at the waning moon instead. "They'll make you choose."

"Choose?"

Spike spun around, throwing his hands up in the air in irritation. "Why are you so bloody thick tonight, Red?  I can see the damned handwriting on the wall. *They'll* make you choose between me and them," Spike growled as he started pacing in front of her on the patio.

"Oh."  Willow's earlier sense of happiness was quickly dissipating, a feeling of foreboding taking shape.

"Pressure's already starting, isn't it?  I bet they're not even trying to be subtle about it."

Willow closed her eyes, and leaned back against the house. "It'll be okay, Spike.  Don't worry."

"How can it be okay now that they know who you really are?  You did tell them everything, didn't you?"  Willow sensed him moving closer, felt the energy radiating off of him, so she wasn't surprised when she opened her eyes and Spike was standing in front of her with only inches separating them.

"Spike..."

"You did tell them the whole truth and nothing but the bloody truth, didn't you?"

Willow bit her lip.  "Luckily, they didn't ask much about our relationship."

"Luckily?" Spike snapped back, taking Willow by surprise.  Had she hurt his feelings?

"It's an awful lot to spring on people all at one time, don't you think? If they ask, I'll tell them the truth, Spike.  *All* of it.  For now, they know we're friends, good friends.  They know we have a history. They know I trust you.  The rest'll come out in time."

Spike's eyes held hers but they seemed changed as she spoke.  They grew icy, void of warmth, and Willow shivered.

"They'll say it's for the best, Willow.  They'll come up with all sorts of bloody excuses for why you shouldn't be around me anymore."

"I make my own decisions, Spike," Willow insisted adamantly.  "I'm 135 years old!  A little too old for people to start picking my friends, don't you think?"

Spike's jaw clenched, his wintry eyes narrowed, drawing another shiver out of Willow.  Then as quickly as the coldness had overtaken him, it was gone and Willow was looking into the familiar blue eyes of her friend once again.

Shaking his head, he gave her the once over.  "Bloody hell, you look like shit, Willow," he finally announced.

"Always the charmer, Spike," she teased but was touched by his concern. When he took off his duster to slip it around her shoulders, Willow grinned up at him.  "Thanks."

Spike shrugged.  "Need to take better care of yourself or you'll catch your death from pneumonia."

Willow dismissed his worries with a wave of her hand.  "You know I can't really catch pneumonia from being cold, Spike.  That's another one of those old wives tales."

"I've never trusted old wives, so I'm not taking any bloody chances." He took a long lingering look at her face, and by the looks of the frown he wore, Willow surmised he didn't like what he saw.  He dropped the cigarette then ground it out with the worn tip of his boot, before kicking it into the rose bushes.  Then he looked at Willow again and drew the back of a long finger lightly down her cheek.  He clenched his jaw and pushed his hands back into his jean pockets.  "You've been crying.  Those bloody pillocks made you cry."

"It was an emotional night, Spike.  There were tears on all sides."

He grunted.  "Been getting any sleep?

"Enough," she said with a shrug, pulling his coat tighter around herself as she took a seat on the top step by the back door.  Spike sat next to her, and without thinking twice, she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Still having those bloody nightmares of yours?" he asked.

Willow wasn't sure she'd exactly call them nightmares, more like very intense and often erotic dreams, but they were keeping her up at night, so she nodded.  "But they're really not too bad, Spike.  They don't even remotely resemble those ones I had when we were in Vienna, so don't worry about me.  I can cope," she said, then yawned.

Spike actually sighed.  "Get some sleep, Willow.  We can chat later."

"I'm fine, Spike, and we barely ever get to see each other.  Sleep can wait." Spike seemed pleased with her answer if the tender smile on his face meant anything.  That sat in comfortable silence awhile longer.

Spike broke the solitude.  "Even Dru's made noises about it too, Red, saying I can't have both.  I set her bloody straight, of course, but your mates'll be singing the same tune soon, and 'ole Spike'll get kicked to the curb."

Willow sat up straight and looked at him. She put on her infamous 'resolve face'.  "Nobody makes me do anything I don't want to do."  At his quirked brow, she smiled and quickly added, "Well, not anymore, anyway."

"Still...easier said than done, Red."

Silence fell between them again, and Willow hugged herself, suddenly feeling the chill of the late-Autumn air. She put her head back on his shoulder, hoping to recapture some of the warmth they'd had earlier.

"No one understands, Spike, but we can't really expect them to.  What's important is that you trust me, and I trust you."

"Do you still trust me, Willow?"  His voice was soft, low and even a little wistful.

"Only with my life, Spike," she said, meaning it with her whole heart. "Only with my life."

They sat that way for several more minutes, not talking, just looking at the stars.  When Willow couldn't stifle another yawn, Spike finally stood up.

"Winter'll be here before we know it," he said in a tight voice, helping her to her feet.  "And this time we can't just slip off to Greece to avoid it."

"Maybe you should pick up a bottle of ouzo for old-times' sake."

"Along with a little poker Friday then?"

Willow winced.  Spike would have to choose the one night of the week she was definitely committed to the gang.  "Friday's patrol night, Spike." His face hardened a little before Willow could continue.  "So either we can make it Saturday night or really late on Friday, say 1-ish?  Parents will still be out of town so you can come here."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother, pet."

"Oh yeah?  Since when?"  With a saucy wink, Willow handed him back his coat.  "See you Saturday then, Spike, and you bring the ouzo!  G'night." With a last smile for the unusually doleful vampire, Willow went into her house and locked the door.

She didn't see the victorious smile that enveloped Spike's face as he strode away.

*****

Hidden in the shadows of a neighbor's wrap-around-porch, three men were taking close note of everything Willow and Spike said and did.

The shorter one spoke in voice that only his companions could hear. "See, I told you.  Spike really is concerned about--"

"I knew it!" the man with the long blond hair interrupted.  "He's up to something."

"He was just smiling.  Even vampires have a right to smile."

"No way, man.  That was a 'she fell for it' smile if I ever saw one." They followed Spike's progress around to the street in front of her house and he pointed at the vampire fading in the distance.  "And look at the way he's walking.  He's strutting now that she can't see him." He turned to the quiet, bearded one on the other side of him.  "Come on, back me up here.  Spike's not to be trusted."

"We've thought that about him before and he always came through," the bearded man replied.

"Exactly!" the short one said.  "He always comes through in the clutch."

"No way.  This is different!"

"What about in London when Willow was at her lowest, working in those sleazy pubs?  Or again, when Angelus had her?"

The blond gave a modest grunt of agreement.

"He'll come through again."  The man with the beard nodded his head thoughtfully.  "He'll do the right thing."  Then he grumbled under his breath:  "Come on, Spike...do the right thing..."

"And if he doesn't?"

"We'll do what we have to do," the shorter one said.  "What we *should* have done a very long time ago."

"And Willow?"

He looked up at the brightly lit window of Willow's room.  "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.  I've grown pretty fond of the kid over the decades.  I'd had such high hopes for her that I'd hate to see it end this way."

The others nodded in agreement.

"It's all up to Spike now."

Somberly, the three checked their time-keeping devices and then vanished as silently as they'd appeared.

~Part: 18~

"Spike, I don't know if this is such a good idea," Willow said as the vampire pulled out her chair for her before taking his seat across the table.  "Wouldn't you rather go somewhere else?"

That earned her a pout, complete with slumped shoulders and a slightly clenched jaw.  "Ashamed to be seen with me now, Red?"

"Don't be silly."  Willow looked around The Bronze as she sipped her soda.  Spike had offered to get her a drink with a little more punch to it, but she'd declined.  She'd have no way to prove to anyone that she was more than 5 times the legal drinking age, so she was content with Diet Coke for now.  "I'm just surprised you chose for us to come here when this is the first chance in weeks we've had to spend any real time together."

"Ah, it's all part of the master plan, pet."

Willow lifted a playfully suspicious brow.  "Which master plan is that?  The one to take over a small island in the pacific somewhere and start your own brave new world?"

"Nah, the *important* master plan, pet," Spike said in hushed tone, as if sharing a critical secret.  "My devious plot to eat one of those tasty fried onion things."

Willow laughed.  She should have known.  No matter where they were, Spike seemed to always have a favorite food that he couldn't get enough of.  In Galway it had been lamb; in London it had been scones with clotted cream, while in Vienna it had been strudel.

"I've never known a vampire who enjoys food as much as you, Spike."

"Known a lot of vamps, have you?"

"The only ones that matter."

That earned her a smile from the unusually reserved vampire.  "Good answer."

"Still, you definitely eat more than Angel does," Willow decided aloud.  "Sure, I've seen him eat his fair share of pizza and glazed buttermilk donuts, and lately he does seem kind of fascinated with ice cream, especially chocolate, but other than that--"

"Way to ruin the appetite, pet," Spike interrupted, scowling.  "Any other little details about the soulful one you wish to bore me to a second death with?  What brand of hair gel the ponce uses?  The exact bloody shade of his eyes when he's brooding 'bout you, perhaps?"

Willow felt heat rush to her face.  She hadn't meant to talk about Angel at all tonight, let alone babble on about him with all the maturity of a preteen girl at a Backstreet Boys concert.  And there was no way she was going to admit to Spike that she'd already identified the *exact* color of Angel's eyes--they were the shade of hot, melted fudge.

Willow barely caught herself before she sighed.  Now her cheeks really were burning.

Directing her thoughts away from Angel and back to the vampire before her, Willow gave Spike a sly grin.  "Actually, it's all part of *my* master plan, Spike," she said.  "Because now that you've lost your deep-fried onion craving, we can go somewhere else."

Spike seemed to relax.  His voice took on a smoother note and a twinkle returned to his ice-blue eyes.  "If you're not ashamed of me, Red, then you must be trying to get me alone so you can have your wicked way with me." He paused with a thoughtful look on his face.  "Actually, suppose *any* way with me would be wicked, on count of the whole demon thing, eh?"

*My* wicked way with you?" Willow teased.  "Isn't that what you have Drusilla for?"  Willow looked around the club full of familiar faces, several of which seemed to be eyeing her and Spike with open curiosity as if they'd never seen her without the others before.  It was making her strangely self-conscious on a night when all she wanted to do was relax and be herself.  "I just thought we could go somewhere less crowded," she said aloud.

Spike's frown returned, and he stared down into his wineglass.  "Your bloody friends aren't even here, Red.  Quit worrying."

"I'm not worried, Spike.  I'd just like to spend some time with you without any drama."

"Is the amazing dog boy playing tonight then?"

"No, *Oz's* band isn't playing tonight," she said softly.

She hadn't spoken with Oz since she'd told him the truth.  He wasn't avoiding her, exactly.  When they passed in the halls Oz smiled instead of running the other way, but she really had no idea what he was thinking or feeling.  Willow knew Oz well enough to realize that when he was ready to talk, he'd come to her.  She wasn't going to push him.

Spike downed the final swallow of wine then dipped his finger in the remaining crimson drop.  He studied the red bead of liquid that clung to the tip of his finger and asked, "You really don't care what they think about this peculiar little relationship of ours?"

Willow watched as his tongue snaked out to lick at the last drop of wine.  It looked like he was going to lay the sexual innuendo on a little heavy tonight.  Probably trying to make up for lost time, she thought with a smile.  Good thing she was strong.  Seeing a man a sexy as Spike lick anything was a lot for any girl to take, let alone 'The Yoda of Virgins' as Xander had recently dubbed her.

"Nope," she replied with only a slight squirm in her seat.

Spike smirked, but then the smirk was quickly replaced with something Willow didn't recognize as easily. "Then you won't care that the Scabby Gang just walked in," he said after a moment, leaning back in his chair to watch her warily.

Willow's shoulders sagged.  This was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid all along.  Was it really too much to ask to spend some time with Spike?

Since she'd come clean with the gang--well, fairly clean anyway--a couple of weeks earlier, she'd had little time to spend with Spike.  They had been able to fit in their poker game that Saturday night, but since then, time seemed to be in short supply.  Willow always seemed busy with school or the gang, and Drusilla took up most Spike's time.  The only reason they'd been able to meet tonight was because the vampiress was doing her monthly 'girls mini-break' weekend away, whatever that meant.  So, Willow had set tonight aside for Spike, which is exactly what she'd told Buffy that afternoon. Why then were the others here?

To play babysitter, of course.

Willow tried to look at the bright side.  Obviously, her friends cared about her and were simply worried for her safety.  There was no sign of Angel either, which was another plus.  The souled vampire hadn't said a word earlier when she'd announced her plans to spend time with Spike.  He hadn't exactly jumped up and down with joy either, but he hadn't tried to change her mind or lift a finger to stop her.  Perhaps he was afraid to ruin their new friendship and wanted to stay on her good side.  Or maybe, just maybe, he understood her need to see her old friend Spike again.  Whatever the reason, Willow was more than a little relieved not to see Angel with the others.

With the heavy feeling of one that was about to forge into battle, Willow pushed away from the haven of their quiet table and got to her feet.  "I'll be right back," she said without looking at Spike.  Her mind was already focused on what she was going to say to her other friends.  She left Spike and walked briskly to the gang's usual table by the dance floor.

They looked up as she approached, trying to look surprised to see her there. Willow!"

"Hey, guys, what are you doing here?  I thought you were going to see a movie."

The three exchanged awkward looks, which Willow easily read as 'Why didn't we come up with a cover story before we came in?'

Xander was the first to attempt an excuse.  "We were, uh, too late for the movie."

"Oh, yeah, Xander's right," Buffy added.  "By the time we'd gotten there, it had already started. You know how it is, Will.  Miss the first few minutes of a movie and you spend the rest of it feeling lost and trying to catch up.  It's too much work for something that's supposed to be mindless fun."

"But you'd left Angel's in plenty of time," Willow reminded them.

They looked at each other nervously before Cordelia finally spoke up.  "We had to, er, stop back at my house so I could change lipstick.  It looked like Buffy and I were wearing the same shade and there is no way I'm going to have people believing that we have the same taste when our coloring is so different!"

Willow sighed.  It was hard to believe that out of all of them, Cordy was the best liar.

"So what are you and...*Spike* up to?" Xander asked with a quick glance over Willow's shoulder at the vampire.

Willow pretended not to notice the way Xander had said Spike's name, as if it were the worst sort of four-letter word.

"We're just talking and are about to share an onion.  So, I'm sure you'll understand if I get back to Spike."

"Hey, I wonder if it's too late to see if we can get the kitchen to sub a huge clove of garlic for the onion?  Maybe he won't notice until it's too late!"

Buffy's smiled for a moment, then her nostrils flared as she stared at something over Willow's shoulder.  Willow wasn't surprised when Spike came up behind her.  He was holding a take-out carton in his hand and wafting from it was the greasy-sweet smell of Spike's latest favorite snack.

"I'll just be on my way then, Red."

Willow spun to face him.  "What?"

"I'll leave you with your...friends," he said simply.

Buffy shifted closer, drawing herself up to her full slayer height.  "Most intelligent thing you've said in months, Spike.  Probably ever."

Xander chuckled at Buffy's joke.  "I'll call Ripley's."

Willow ignored them all.  "Wait...you're going?"

"Oh, and don't forget to let the door crush you to death on your wait out," Buffy added cheekily, repeating Spike's own words from their last encounter.

"Don't want to ruin your fun, pet," he said softly, still ignoring the others.

"But...but...*you're* my fun, Spike.  Tonight's our night to spend together."

Xander grimaced and made a choking noise.  "Any chance you could rephrase that, Willow?" he pleased, causing Willow to roll her eyes with impatience.

"After all, Red, *I* had you for decades," the vampire continued, "and *I* don't mind sharing you."

His tone was lighthearted enough, but the tense muscles of Spike's face revealed his true feelings on the matter.  It was obvious that Spike would let her spend time with her friends if she wanted.  He wouldn't hold it against her and he wouldn't make her choose.  She wasn't so sure the others were going to be so accommodating, which only served to strengthen her resolve to spend as much time as she wanted with Spike.

"You aren't going anywhere, Spike," she said in her firmest tone.  "This is *our* night."  Smiling, she turned back to the gang, softening her voice.  "Guys, tonight I'm going to spend time with Spike.  I don't need a chaperone, so if it was anything other than Cordelia's lipstick crisis that made you miss the movie, you might as well forget it."

"Willow--" the three young people said in a strange distraught union.

"And while I know the polite thing would be for me to ask you all to join us..." At that point, she didn't know who looked more horrified, Buffy or Spike.  "...I'm sure you'll understand when I don't.  Spike and I are going to sit back down and enjoy ourselves.  Have fun, guys, and I'll see you all tomorrow, okay?"  Willow didn't wait for an answer.  With one last smile and a wave goodbye to her dumbstruck friends, she turned around and marched back to the table she'd been sharing with Spike.

Spike and his onion followed.

*****

"Anyone else feel nauseous?"

Cordelia's and Buffy's hand shot up in answer to Xander's question.  For the last hour, the three of them had sat staring at Willow and Spike, who were still seated at a small table tucked in a private corner of The Bronze.

Since Willow had told them about going back in time with Spike, things had definitely improved around Slayer Central.  They weren't exactly back to pre-back-in-time-spell days, but Willow's unusual behavior was starting to make some sense to them now.  She seemed more relaxed, happier. Angel's mood had drastically improved as well, and while he wasn't quite his old self either, things at Slayer Central were looking up.

Or at least they had been until some of the more negative ramifications of Willow's past started to sink in, her relationship with Spike being the most obvious. While they knew that Willow still occasionally spent some time with the vampire, it was something they didn't talk about.  It was their own version of the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy.  As a group, they also did their best to assure that Willow had as little spare time to spend with Spike as possible.  They went to movies, had sleepovers at Buffy's house, and kept Willow as busy as possible with researching, patrols and even helping them with their homework.

Their subtle plan had worked well, until tonight, when Willow actually declared that she was going to hang out with Spike instead of going to the movies with them.

Oh sure, Willow, hang out with the evil undead, they had all thought to themselves in one form or another.  That's okedoke with us.

Not!

They waited for Angel to talk her out of it, remind her dangerous Spike was, and refuse to let her set one foot out the door, but he'd remained silent at first.  Then, without any sign of anger or sulking, he simply volunteered to take all the patrols that night, then grabbed his coat and slipped out into the darkness, which left them to look out for Willow's welfare this time around.  Without discussion, Buffy, Xander, and Cordelia cancelled their movies plans and put themselves back on top secret Willow duty.

The teenagers followed the pair at a safe distance, ending up at The Bronze.  They weren't quite prepared to find Willow and Spike sitting alone, talking, laughing.  It was *their* territory, after all.  The Bronze was like The Scooby Gang's second home.  Okay, maybe third home, after Slayer Central.  But it didn't really matter where this teen hangout landed on their 'home away from home' scale, it was still wrong to let Spike invade it.

Xander groaned.  "The Bronze better start keeping Pepto-Bismol on tap."

Buffy tried to pry her eyes away from Willow and Spike, but she couldn't.

"I don't like the way she touches him," she announced, frowning.  "She's always putting her hand on his arm or touching him when she's laughing.  I know she used to do that all the time with you, Xander, but this is Spike."  Buffy groaned again.  "Nope, I don't like it.  It's...oogy."

"And what about how he's always leaning in, whispering in her ear and talking real close," Xander added before taking another sip of his soda.

Buffy shook her head.  "Which usually leads to the laughing and more touching.  Have I mentioned how little I like it?"

"And doesn't Willow realize how close the ear is to the neck?  That girl is just asking to get bitten."

"You know," Cordelia began, "Spike smiles a lot for a vampire.  Not the 'oh yummy, dinner's on' kinda smile that we usually get right before Buffy stakes their stupid undead asses, but more of a happy smile.  I wish someone would tell me what the undead have to be so happy about?"

"Angel smiles a lot, too," Buffy quickly reminded them, earning her a pointed look from the others.  "Well, he used to smile like that all the time before..."  She trailed off, not liking what she was about to say.

Xander, unfortunately, finished the thought for her.  "Before *this* Willow came back."  Xander blanched at his own unfair words.  "No!  We can't think like that," he backtracked.  "It's not Willow's fault that things have changed.  It's Spike's."

"Right!" Buffy nodded between sips of her soda.  "And as difficult as it is for us to adjust to the new Willow, it's probably a piece of cake compared to what she's going through.  Can you imagine being ancient and still having to go to school?  Life is so unfair."

At that moment, Willow's laughter broke above the standard noise level of the club.  They looked over to see both Willow and Spike still chuckling over some private joke.

Cordelia set down her drink and frowned at them.  "Oh, yeah.  She's really suffering."

The mood turned quiet again as the teenagers strained to hear what Willow and Spike were discussing that could have her laughing so freely.  Soon they were leaning forward in their seats, their chairs tipping on two legs as they eavesdropped on their old friend.

"Freud?"  Xander said a few minutes later, looking around at the others, his eyes wide.  "Sigmund Freud?  Did Spike just say they met Sigmund Freud?"

"No," Cordelia replied, "Spike just said they sat next to Freud in an outdoor cafe in Vienna and when they realized who he was, they smoked a lot of very thick cigars while discussing their rotten relationships with their mothers and their strange dreams.  Apparently, Freud was leaning so far back in his chair, trying to listen to what they were saying, that he fell backwards onto the ground."

The three paused, noting their own eavesdropping positions.  Sheepishly, they tilted back in their seats until their chairs rested on all four legs again and sat up straight.

Xander pushed his drink away. "Wow.  It sounds like they've really had some fun together."

"Yeah," the girls agreed reluctantly before they all fell silent again.

"So, what are we going to do about this?" Cordelia finally asked.

"Maybe we don't really need to do anything," Buffy answered weakly.  "I mean, Willow does keep saying that they were friends...that Spike saved her life more than once, and Angel didn't seem particularly worried tonight."

Xander shook his head.  "I'm still stuck on the 'friends' part.  *I'm* her friend...I can't remember a time when we weren't best friends.  My oldest memories have Willow in them, but now..."

"She's known Spike longer than she's known any of us," Buffy reminded them.  "Even you, Xander."

"And how the hell am I supposed to compete with meeting Freud and dancing with royalty and sipping wine while exploring Greek ruins?  Suddenly giving her my yellow crayon doesn't seem like quite the life-long bonding experience that it used to."

Buffy patted his arm.  "Try not to think of it that way, Xander."

"I don't like it," Xander grumbled.  "He's still a vampire, isn't he?  Which means that as soon as he leaves here, if he can drag himself away from Willow that is, he'll probably snack on a few strangers on his way back to Drusilla."

"What's to stop him from nibbling on Willow now, anyway?" Cordelia asked.  "She's human again."

"My thoughts exactly," Xander said with a pointed look at Buffy.  "Which brings us back to Cordy's original question.  What are we going to do about this?"

Buffy's face grew grim, her spine went ramrod straight.  "We're going to have to do our best to make Willow see the real danger she's in," Buffy said, sounding every inch the Slayer.  "Even if the truth makes her hates us for a little while."

*****

Spike was in his element.  Other than a spot of violence, there was nothing like a bit of mental torture to make his night, and he was 'happy as Larry' when the Scabby Gang just sat there and took it like the ignorant lot that they were.

As the evening went on, Spike's laugh grew louder and his smile more devilish as he leaned in a little closer to Willow.  He'd noticed their glares the moment they'd entered the club.  He fed on those angry looks, and it only made him grin more.  This was exactly what he'd been hoping would happen.

When Willow wasn't looking, he returned their glares with boastful disdain.  Otherwise, he played it cool.

Now, the vampire faked a little sigh of his own and did his best to look dejected yet understanding.  Bloody hell if he didn't feel like a wally, but it was part of the plan. His real master plan, which had nothing to do with onions or islands in the South Pacific.

"Don't think your pals approve, love."

Willow looked over her shoulder at her friends and gave them what he assumed was supposed to be a cheerful wave, but it looked a little forced to him.

Perfect.

"Seriously, pet, join them if you want.  I'll understand," he said, making sure there was only a tinge of animosity in his voice.  Any more might raise a red flag and make her worry about her friends safety; any less would also be suspicious.  He was a vampire, after all.  Animosity came with the fangs.

"Nope.  Tonight's *our* night, Spike," Willow shot back.  "I mean, I feel like we haven't had a chance to really sit down and talk in months.  It's just that maybe it wasn't such a good idea coming here, Spike.  Now that we've finished eating, maybe we could go somewhere else?"

Go somewhere else?  Where's the bloody fun in that?

"Sure, Red," he said, contradicting his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair, still working on that lovable dejected look, then took out a cigarette.  "Crikey, love, how do you put up with this?  I mean, for years we went where we wanted, when we wanted," he growled through an exhale of smoke.  "This hiding's going to take some getting used to."

Willow looked hurt.  "Hey, we're not hiding."

"No?  Feels like hiding to me, Red.  Or worse.  Running."

"We're not running or hiding, Spike.  If there's one thing I'm starting to understand it's that there's a difference between being private and being secretive.  Just because I'd like a little privacy doesn't mean I'm trying to hide our relationship."

Spike gritted his teeth.  Where did she come up with that load of codswallop.  Sometimes he wished Red hadn't become so mature and less easily manipulated.

Manipulated.

Why did that word give him a twinge of guilt?  He was a vampire, damn it, and there was no room for these sorts of twinges.  And actually, he wasn't trying to manipulate her so much as lead her in the right direction.

And it's for Red's own bloody good,' he repeated to himself for what felt like the millionth time.  I'm the only one that can make her happy and keep her safe...forever.

He stabbed out his cigarette.  "Learn that trite piece of wisdom from Oprah, did you?"

"Nope...Giles."  Willow grinned then got to her feet.  "I'm going to the Ladies.  Be right back."

*****

Alone in the ladies restroom, Willow washed her hands.  The fried onion had been delicious but very greasy, and she tried not to think about how her arteries were probably clogging up at that very moment.  Now that she was mortal again, she should probably start paying more attention to what she ate.

Willow had just decided to double up on the veggies tomorrow, just in case, when she realized that Buffy had entered the room and was staring at her in the mirror.

"What's wrong?" Willow asked, turning to face her.

"I'm worried about you, Willow," Buffy replied somberly.  "We all are."

Here we go, Willow thought to herself.  Here comes the 'Spike' speech.  He's dangerous, evil, untrustworthy...yadda, yadda yadda...  Wasn't it bad enough that they were all still watching her like she'd grown a second head or something and were listening to every word they said?  Their behavior was distracting, making it hard for her to focus her complete attention on Spike, and she didn't like that at all.  It wasn't fair, but she didn't want to get into an argument with Buffy about it either.  Not tonight.

Stalling, Willow grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands.  "Worried about me?  Why?  Nothing unusual has happened lately.  No strange vamp attacks, no demons following me about.  I haven't even argued with any of my teachers this week."

"That's not why we're worried, Willow," Buffy said, moving up to the mirror to check her makeup.  "While we're glad nothing unusual has happened in a while, we're...wait, you've been arguing with your teachers?" she asked Willow's reflection.

"Not arguing so much as disagreeing.  It's my foreign language teachers.  Mrs. Fell's French is adequate, but Ms. Porter's German?  Please.  I speak better German than she does.  Let's see her conjugate verbs after traveling back in time, then coming back into the future, which is actually the present and...Oops, sorry, Buffy.  Guess I got a little carried away.  What were you saying?"

Buffy laughed as she applied a light coat of lipstick.  "It must be hard when you know more than your teachers.  Can't say I've ever had that problem."

Willow looked at Buffy in the mirror.  "Now, that's not true, Buffy!  How many times have you had to act all weak and unsuper-girl like in P.E.?  With your strength, speed, and stamina, if you wanted to you could be the top athlete in the school.  Yet in dodge ball, you let yourself get hit.  Don't know if I'd be so accommodating if I had your supernatural reflexes."

"Just trying to stay under the radar," Buffy said, tucking her lipstick back into her small handbag and turning to face Willow.  "Luckily, the radar in Sunnydale seems to be set very, *very* high.  Anyway, Willow, it's Spike we're worried about."

Willow tried not to sigh. "Spike?" she asked, sounding surprised, then quickly changed the subject.  "Ooh, Buffy!" she gasped, pointing to Buffy's red v-necked blouse with long flowing sleeves.  "I have the perfect garnet earrings to go with that top.  They look like long crimson teardrops surrounded by silver filigree.  I found them at an antique shop last week.  You can borrow them anytime you want."

As Willow talked, she inched casually towards the restroom door.  It was looking like she might actually escape unscathed, or at least lecture-free.

"Really?" Buffy followed Willow's slow retreat toward the exit.  "Thanks, Willow.  Not that I have a date in the near future that I need to get dressed up for."

"Things still not going well with Jason, huh?"

Buffy shrugged.  "We had that one date, but there was no real sparkage."

"Well, sometimes it takes more than one date.  Or..."

"Or what?"

"Or maybe you're not supposed to be with Jason," Willow suggested, forgetting for the moment that she'd been trying to make a clean getaway.  "Maybe you're supposed to be with...someone else?"

Buffy frowned and stepped out of the way as several girls entered the restroom. "I guess so, but who?"

"Can't you think of anyone you have more in common with?"

"Well, there's Scott.  He's definitely drool-worthy and I caught him looking at me a couple of times in the lunch room, but I thought maybe I had tartar sauce on my chin."

Willow waited as another group of girls came through the door. "I'm talking about Angel, Buffy."

Buffy made a face.  "Willow, haven't I told you before that just the thought of being with Angel creeps me out?  Don't get me wrong...he's a hottie and everything, but...well, Angel is like Giles to me, and I *so* don't want to start my mind wandering down that path."

"But--"

"But nothing, Willow. Not going to happen.  Ever. Besides, after everything you've been through, which I'm sure is still a lot more than I know about, can you honestly tell me that it wouldn't bother you to see me and Angel all couplely together?"

"Of course it wouldn't bother me, Buffy," Willow replied quickly, reaching for the door handle, but Buffy leaned against the door, cutting off both Willow's retreat and the chance of any further interruptions.

The Slayer ignored the knocking on the door, as well the urgent pleas about full bladders and smudged eyeliner coming from the other side.

"Willow..." Buffy said, stretching out her name in a way that made Willow feel all guilty.  "No more lies and half-truths, remember?"

Suddenly talking about Spike seemed like the easier option.

Willow sighed and reluctantly loosened the stranglehold she tried to keep on her emotions where Angel was concerned.  Immediately, she felt her body tense at the very thought of seeing Buffy and Angel together again.  The little voices in her head rejoiced in their freedom as well, squealing:  'Hey, hands off, Slayer!  I saw him first...sorta,' and another very sarcastic voice added, 'Oh, *please*...Buffy and Angel are *so* wrong for each other.  A vampire and a Slayer...is anyone else thinking doomed from the start here?' and a myriad of other pro-Angel rhetoric.  The Willow/Angel shippers in her head drowned out her more sensible side, the one that still felt guilty for breaking up the vampire and the Slayer in the first place.

Willow closed her eyes just long enough to clamp down on her inner brouhaha before it turned into an all-out riot. "Honestly," Willow said, hoping she didn't look and sound as dazed as she felt, "I'm not sure how I'd feel, Buffy.  That's as good an answer as I can give you right now."

Buffy grinned victoriously. "That'll do, Willow.  That'll do."

By this time, the polite requests to enter the Ladies Room had turned to pounding and a string of expletives that would make any sailor proud.  Reluctantly, Buffy quit blocking the door.  It was immediately thrown open and four girls rushed in, shooting Willow and Buffy dirty looks.

Willow made a dash for the door while the getting was good, but she wasn't fast enough.  Buffy was right on her tail.  "Now, Willow," she said, "let's talk about Spike..."

Automatically, Willow searched out her table in the club, and was shocked to find Xander, stake in hand, advancing on Spike in what Willow could only assume was supposed to be a threatening manner.  For his part, Spike hardly looked threatened or even impressed.

Without another word to Buffy, Willow rushed across the club.

*****

Xander's irritation level had risen rapidly with each smile that Willow and Spike had shared, each touch, and each memory.  By the time Willow had excused herself to visit the ladies room, Xander had a lot he wanted to say to the bleached blond vampire.

Xander sauntered over to where the smirking vampire sat.  Without giving it a second thought, he slammed his hands down on the table and leaned in.  "I'm not buying it for a second, Spike," Xander said only inches from the vampire's face.

"Wasn't aware I was selling, Xapper."

"You may have fooled Willow into thinking you're reformed, just some neutered mutt with sharp teeth--"

"Willow doesn't like her men neutered," Spike interrupted with a meaningful lift of his scarred brow.  "Likes her bad boys *intact*."

"You can insinuate all you want, Spike, but I know the truth.  She says you're friends, and we're here to make sure that's all you'll ever be.  But don't get comfortable, Spike, because it won't take long before she'll see the light."

"Ahh...this is the 'She'll See Through You' speech, is it?  'Fraid Angel beat you to it.  As well as the 'Friends' bit and my personal favorite, 'If You Ever Hurt Her.'"

Xander cleared his throat and stood up straight.  "Well, I'm glad you understand your position then, Spike.  Obviously, Willow had only put up with you because she'd been starved for any sort of companionship after such a long time.  But, we're here now, Spike, so you can run along."

"Starved?" Spike chuckled.  "The girl hardly starved for *anything* when we were together."  Spike's suggestive grin took on an even more lurid cast. "After all," he continued, obviously pleased with himself, "I'm all the protein a growin' girl could ever need."

Xander blinked at him a few times, and when the insinuation finally sunk in, he could feel his face drain of all color.  Surely Spike wasn't suggesting that he and Willow...?

"You don't mean...you wouldn't...*she* wouldn't..." Xander stammered.  The very thought of Willow and Spike having any sort of intimate relationship made his stomach lurch and churn.

This time it was Spike's turn to lean across the table. "I do mean.  I did.  She did.  *We* did.  Many times, actually."

Xander swayed on his feet.  "But she's a century-old virgin.  Virgin!  She told me so...several *hundred* times, in fact."

Spike shrugged as if they were discussing something trivial like weather or the best way to behead a demon, not Willow and the vampire's supposed sex life.  "Technically, yeah, Red's intact," he said with irritating confidence. "But there isn't a spot on her body that I haven't touched or tasted, nor is there a spot on my body that she hasn't touched or--"

"Whoa!  Hold on!" Xander interrupted, his voice raising a full octave in his panic.  "Time travel must have scrambled what little brain you have, Spike.  Willow would never...ever...!  I mean, you're a demon.  An evil, blood-sucking, soulless..."

Spike rose slowly, effortlessly to his feet in that irritating boneless way that only vampires seemed capable of.

"Ask your boy Angel," the blond vampire sneered.  "He knows the truth."

Suddenly everything became a little too clear for Xander.  Rather than wait for doubt to muddy it up again, he drew the stake our of his back pocket.  "Let's not and say I did."

*****

Just as the boy slipped out the stake, Willow stormed out of the Ladies, Slayer in tow.

Perfect timing, Red, he thought as Willow rushed over.  She grabbed the boy's wrist, easily wrenched the stake out of his grip, and stepped between them.

"What's going on?" she demanded.  "Xander, why are you trying to stake Spike?"

"Yeah, Xander," Buffy interjected.  "You know I'm first in line for staking in this town.  No cutting!"

"You...you've been sleeping with him!" Xander accused Willow in a nasty tone.  He then turned to Buffy.  "Willow's been sleeping with Spike!"

A long, uncomfortable silence--Spike's favorite kind--settled over the group.  "We need to have this discussion some place else before we draw a crowd," Willow suggested calmly, tucking Xander's stake into her back pocket.  "*Anyplace* else would be fine."

Buffy wasn't smiling anymore.  "No, Willow, I want an answer now.  Have you been..." She seemed to choke on the next word.  "...*sleeping* with Spike?"

Willow looked Buffy straight in the eye.  "Not recently."

"When?" Xander asked, and Willow turned her calm gaze to him.

"In the mid-1800s," she replied.

Xander took a step closer to the vampire. "Did he, er,  *rape* you, Willow?"

"Rape me?  No!" she replied adamantly, then lowered her voice when a few people turned to look.  "Why does everyone immediately assume that?  No, Xander.  Not even close...in fact, I was the aggressor."

Spike felt his boastful grin soften a little.  It was cute how she still blushed when the subject of their sexual liaisons came up.  She could still be so damned innocent at times that it made his teeth ache.

"What?  Willow raped Spike?" Cordelia asked, joining them a little late.

"Crikey, you're a thick lot, aren't you?"

"So it was just a one-time thing?" Xander pleaded in a voice that reminded Spike of a whinging girl. "A horrible mistake, a horrific accident brought about by aging hormones and tight underwear?"

"No, Xander," Willow replied calmly, without a single hint of regret in her voice.  "It was more than once."

"Twice?"

Willow shook her head.

"Four times?" he whimpered, wincing as if he'd been slapped upside the head.

Willow sighed, so Spike took full advantage of the situation, which he knew wouldn't surprise Red in the slightest.  He stepped forward, giving Willow a wink as he casually draped an arm about her shoulders.  "Four times a night maybe, on the off nights.  And then there were the days...  After all, by then Red'd had a lot of time to make up for."

"Okay," Xander said as he began a slow pacing in front of them, obviously grasping at straws. "Now is the time when Willow is supposed to tell us that they only napped together.  That they slept together in the most literal form of the word.  No hanky panky involved."

Willow surveyed the club again. "Please, guys, The Bronze really isn't the place for this discussion."

They ignored her plea for a change of venue, which struck Spike as being very rude.  And she calls this bloody pack of wallies her friends?

"Come on, Willow," Xander said, still pacing like a rat trapped in a shrinking cage.  "Tell me that you only *napped* with the blood-sucking fiend and didn't sleep with him."

"Now hold on a bloody minute!" Spike chimed in.  "That's not...oh, actually...I *am* a bloody-sucking fiend."  Spike stepped back and shrugged.  "Never mind.  Carry on."

Willow sighed, finally starting to lose her patience. "No, I'm not going to tell you that, Xander, unless you want me to lie to you."

"Lie to me, Willow."

"Lie to both of us," Buffy shrieked. "I can't believe you slept with Spike!"

Spike couldn't help himself. "Technically, we didn't sleep all that much--"

"Are you insane, Willow?" the Slayer hissed, stepping very close to them both.  "Spike's the enemy! The undead!"

Willow didn't give the enraged Slayer an inch.  Spike was very proud.

"I'm going outside now," Willow told them in a firm voice.  "I'll probably head back to Slayer Central.  When you're able to discuss this like adults, feel free to join me there."  Without another word, Willow turned and calmly made her way through the crowd and out of the club.

Spike followed her immediately, grinning behind her back at his success.  He hadn't had this much fun since the night he helped the Scabby Gang find out about the trip back in time.

And it was only going to get better.  At this rate, Willow'd be begging him to turn her before the year was out.

~Part: 19~

"That went well, don't ya think, Red?"

Willow gave Spike her not-amused look.  Even though she realized the disastrous events of the evening weren't really his fault, she wasn't in the mood to make jokes about it quite yet.  They'd been standing outside The Bronze for several minutes, waiting to see if Willow's friends were going to follow her to Slayer Central where they could discuss her relationship with Spike more privately. So far none of them had come out.

Spike frowned and kicked at the pavement with an already scuffed boot.  "Sorry, pet.  While that was probably a bit painful for you, have to admit that I found a certain sadistic charm to the evening."

Willow managed a slight smile this time.  At least Spike was honest.  "Glad I could entertain you...again," she grumbled good-naturedly.

What the hell had happened to her plans for a drama-free night, anyway? Instead it had turned into something resembling a badly written episode of Dawson's Creek.

Willow sighed as she looked back at the Bronze.  A few people were filing through the front doors, but there was still no sign of Buffy or the others.  They'd come though.  She was sure of that.  More likely than not, they were probably dreaming up some sort of battle plan.  Or reviving Xander.  Or both.

Remembering the betrayed looks of her friends, Willow shivered. The wind was beginning to pick up, and it felt as if the temperature had plummeted ten degrees in the short time she and Spike had been waiting outside.

"Let's get moving, pet.  They'll be along soon enough."

Willow gave The Bronze one last glance before starting the relatively short walk toward Slayer Central.  Spike fell in at her side.

"What happened, Spike?" she asked after they turned the first corner.  "How'd Xander figure *us* out?"

The blond vampire shrugged as he lit a cigarette, cupping his hands to shield it from the stiff breeze.  "Not sure, pet.  Xapper just stormed over, gave me the typical 'you're not good enough for *my* Willow' speech--you know, the same old rubbish Angel gives me every bloody chance he gets--then suddenly the git's demanding to know what type of relationship we have."

Willow came to an abrupt halt as Spike was slipping the lighter back in his pocket.  "*My* Willow?" she repeated.  "*My* Willow?  He actually said that?"

"Well, the boy said both 'my' and 'our' a lot.  Sorry, can't give you an exact count.  Stopped paying attention after a while.  May 'ave even dozed off a bit.  That Xapper's not the most entertaining bloke."

"Not, Xapper--er, *Xander*--I meant Angel! You must have misheard him, Spike.  Angel doesn't think of me as 'his' anymore."

Spike actually sighed as he twirled around to face her.  "Oh, right...because your perfect Angel's not a vamp anymore, right?  Sorry, pet, but it's in his blood, even blood as weak and watered down by a soul as his.  Can't really help it, I suppose.  To the poof's credit, though, he always corrects himself after he growls 'She's mine!' or the like.  Wanker gets all stammery and contrite."

Another icy chill seeped slowly along Willow's spine.  "He really said that, Spike?  Angel really said I was *his*?"

"Heaps of times, Red," he said through an exhale of silvery smoke.  His eyes narrowed.  "Don't tell me that lot has you disbelieving me already?"

"No, no.  Of course I believe you, Spike," Willow quickly replied, hoping he couldn't hear the doubt and confusion that she was feeling. After all, so far, Angel had never tried to play upon the ceremony that had made her belong to Angelus in the vampiric world.  Willow frowned.  No, that didn't sound like Angel at all.  Angelus, sure.  But Angel?

"Don't fret, pet.  Maybe the great poof didn't mean anything by it.  Just talking out of his arse, as usual.  As for the boy," Spike continued, "I didn't give him a straight answer.  None of his bloody business, right?  But he pulled a stake on me anyway.  You saw the rest."

Willow wrapped her arms tightly about herself, trying to ward off the increasing chill.  "This was *so* not how I wanted tonight to go."

Spike dropped his cigarette to the ground then slipped out of his duster.  "It's okay, Red," he said, easing his coat onto her shoulders and pulling it snug.  "We had fun while it lasted, but I suppose you're right.  Should've gone elsewhere."

Willow started walking again, although there was still no sign of the others behind them.  "It's not your fault, Spike.  I guess I can't expect these two different halves of my life to fit together so easily.  It's a chalk and cheese sorta thing."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, pet.  You thought they finally caught on to the little fact that you're an intelligent adult, capable of making your own choices and have been for quite a while now.  But obviously that hasn't sunken in to their gray matter yet."

"Guess not."

"Look, Willow, they're bloody juveniles, remember?  Just a bunch of spoiled kids, really.  There's more than a century's difference in your ages now.  It's understandable that you lot don't have the closeness you once did.  The kind of trust we have.  The friendship.  There's bound to be some distance.  I'd be more worried if there wasn't.  It'd mean you hadn't matured much over the last century."

Willow frowned, her eyes fixed on the pavement passing beneath her feet.

"Bloody hell, I sound like a wally.  Just forget I ever said any of that rot, Red.  They'll take my 'big bad vamp' card away.  Kick me out of the union."

Willow barely heard his joking comments.  She was still thinking about everything else he'd said about Angel and the Scoobies.

"Come on, Red," Spike said, gently nudging her with his elbow.  "Cheer up.  I'm probably wrong about the Scabby Gang.  I suppose if you're willing to pay the price, soon things 'll be right as rain between you lot again."

"What do you mean?  What price?"

Spike shrugged.  "Nothing, Red.  Never mind."

Willow latched on to his arm and pulled him to a stop beside her.  "Please, Spike.  No more games tonight."

Spike glanced down at where her hand gripped his coat.  He pulled away from her touch.  "I'm not the one playing games, Red.  Look, I don't think you're ready to hear it yet."

Her patience ran out.  "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" she snapped.  "Just say what's on your mind, Spike.  I don't think I can take anymore of this tonight, not from you."

"Fine, pet," he shot back.  "It's obvious, to me anyway, that you can't be yourself with Buffy and that lot.  They won't accept you, not completely anyway.  Tonight's little fiasco's proof of that."

Willow stepped back from the force of his words.  "No."  Willow shook her head adamantly.  Spike had it all wrong.  He just didn't understand that these sorts of things didn't happen overnight.  Besides, he didn't quite see straight when it came to the gang.  "It's...it's just going to take time, that's all," she told the vampire.  "You can't rush these kinds of things."

"Have things improved since your big bloody heart-to-heart a fortnight ago?"

"Sure."

Spike smirked.  "If tonight was improvement, I'd hate to see what the wankers put you through on a bad night."  Now Willow felt like crying.  It must have showed in her eyes, because Spike's face softened.  He chucked her gently under the chin. "Look, Willow, we both know I'm probably the last person who should be giving you advice about the Scabby Gang.  I'm a wee bit biased."

She attempted a smile at his candor.  "Really?  Hadn't noticed."

"Cheeky cow.  All I'm asking is wouldn't you rather be sitting in a smoky pub, trying to make an inside straight or bluffing on a bloody useless hand right now?"

Willow tried to laugh off his question but found she couldn't.  In fact, it was a little scary just how appealing his alternative sounded.  "You always ask trick questions," she grumbled as she walked away.

"Not trick questions, pet.  Just...insightful ones."

"Ooh, bonus points for good word usage, Spike," Willow said, forcing a degree of lightness to her voice.

"You've been rubbin' off on me, Red," he said as he caught up to her.  "Good influence 'n all that rubbish."

"Guess I should have seen this coming," she admitted after they walked in silence for a while longer.  "It's my own fault for not telling the truth the moment I woke up on Angel's couch."

"What happened to the difference between being secretive and having a little privacy?" Spike retorted.  "But, I guess if you lot always share everything with each other, know every disgusting detail of each other's love life, then I suppose it's only fair that they know yours.  Not that yours is disgusting, mind you."

"Um, yeah...exactly."  Willow quickened her pace, as if she could out distance the sinking feeling that was rapidly growing within.  She wasn't about to tell Spike that in all honesty, she hardly knew any of the juicy details of her friends' love lives in *either* time line.  Not only did she have no idea how far Xander and Cordelia's relationship had taken them physically, now or then, but the original Buffy had never been all that eager to tell the intimate details of her relationship with the original Angel either.  Sure, they'd slept together, but that's about all Willow knew.

So much for sharing.

"So...," Spike was saying coolly, "Guess I can almost see why they think they deserve to know all the ins and outs of your love life, so to speak.  Doesn't bother me if you tell them.  I've got nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of."

That got her attention, and yet again Willow stopped walking to look Spike straight in the face.  "Spike, you know I'm not ashamed of what happened between us in London."

Spike looked away, giving her a clear view of tightened jaw muscles.  Tightened jaw muscles meant only one thing: Spike was not happy.

Willow tilted her head, leaning into Spike's line of sight, making him look her in the eye again. "Spike, I've never been ashamed of sharing myself with you in any way.  Never have been and never will be."

Spike didn't reply at first.  He studied her face like they were seated across from each other at a poker table.  He didn't know whether to believe her or not, Willow realized.  Spike doubted her!

"Spike, this is me talking," she pleaded, taking his hand and squeezing it.  "I'm not ashamed, understand?"

His jaw relaxed and he even gave her a little smile, but she could still see some doubt in his eyes.  "Understood, pet.  Now let's get you home."

He offered his arm, which Willow took.  They walked the rest of the way in silence, with Willow snuggling more deeply into the warming comfort of Spike's leather duster.  When they arrived at Slayer Central, she took a seat on the front steps to wait for the others.  Spike wouldn't be welcome in Angel's home, but Willow wanted him around for at least a little while.  Not only for emotional backup, but just to help prove to the others how close they really were, and prove to Spike that she wasn't ashamed of him.

As they waited, Willow spent the time calming herself and preparing for the inevitable questions, but Spike's earlier words were niggling in the back of her mind, making it hard to relax.  Spike made himself comfortable next to Willow on the second step from the bottom and lit another cigarette.

About ten minutes later, Buffy, Cordelia and Xander appeared as they rounded the last corner.  Not so coincidentally, Giles' car screeched to a stop at the front curb.  He and Jenny jumped out just in time to join the teenagers as they marched up the sidewalk.

"Bloody hell," Willow mumbled under her breath at their approach.  "It looks like an intervention."

Spike snickered.  "I was thinking more like the Spanish Inquisition myself."

Willow stood but Spike maintained his easy pose on the step.  "I see you called in reinforcements," she said with a small, welcoming smile for Jenny and Giles.

"Good evening, Willow," Giles said, looking more awkward than she could ever remember.  He glanced at Spike, as if to say hello to him as well, then frowned, apparently thinking better of it.  "Yes, well, Buffy called and, er, *requested* that Jenny and I meet all of you here to discuss certain...matters."

"Requested?"

"More like demanded, actually."

Buffy at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.  "I thought everyone should be here, Willow.  This concerns all of us."

Spike chuckled and leaned toward Willow.  "Didn't know your sharing included the musty watcher, too," he said for her ears only.  "Whatever floats your boat, Red."

Willow pretended not to have heard him.  "Does this really concern everyone, Buffy?"  Hopefully that didn't mean Angel was on his way as well, Willow thought to herself. She had enough on her plate at the moment without Angel and Spike going at each other again.

"Don't worry, Willow," Jenny said.  "Giles and I are here in more of a mediating capacity.  We're not here to judge."

"Not me," Xander chimed in.  "I'm here to judge."

Buffy smiled, as if to say, "Me too!"

"Why are you wearing Spike's coat, Willow?" Cordelia asked unexpectedly.    "It's way too big for you, so does that mean you two going steady or something?"

Willow had forgotten she was even wearing his duster. "I was cold.  He's a gentleman."

Xander laughed.

"Look, Willow," Buffy continued.  "We were talking on the way here, and we're thinking this could be one of those 'thrall' things."  Xander and Cordelia nodded in agreement.  "You were probably under Spike's spell when you, er, slept together.  You know, like you see in all the Dracula movies."

Giles cleared this throat, raising a finger in protest.  "May I just remind you that Jenny and I had absolutely nothing to do with this particular theory."

Willow nodded understandingly at the librarian before turning her attention back to Buffy.  "There was no thrall involved," she said in a firm tone.  "It was sex.  Lust.  I trusted Spike, and I wanted him.  Yes, *I* wanted him, he wanted me and eventually we both quit fighting it.  It was inevitable."

"Inevitable?" Xander barked.  "Okay, I can see how over a century you may have had to sleep with *somebody* but not Spike!"  His fists were balled at his sides, his knuckles white.  Willow couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Xander so angry. "Jack the Ripper would have been a better choice!"

"Jack the Ripper wasn't even born yet, Xander, but I'm so glad you'd rather see me mutilated than happy."

"Besides, ol' Jack fancied prostitutes," Spike added casually.  "Don't think Red would've been quite his cup of tea."

Xander took a few steps closer to Willow and gestured hopelessly at the blond vampire. "Are you telling me *that* made you happy, Willow?  *Spike* made you happy?"

Willow glanced down at Spike.  He was looking up at her, not with a smirk or a gloating grin but with an expectant smile.  For all Spike's teasing, Willow sometimes wondered if he thought back to their time spent together in London with the same fondness that she did. Long days spent in bed, long nights spent talking about anything and everything until she practically fell asleep in mid-sentence.  Maybe it hadn't been love, but before that stage of their relationship had come to its inevitable unhappy conclusion, it had been some of the best weeks of her long life.

As if reading her thoughts, Spike winked at her.

"For a short time," she said to the others, "I think we made each other very happy."

This announcement brought about a lot of uncomfortable shifting and strange looks from the others, as well as a long silence.

"Well, at least you didn't let him bite you," Buffy finally grumbled, obviously searching for any hint of a bright side to their revelation.

Here we go again, Willow thought to herself.  Just when I got them calmed down, too.  "When you have sex with a vampire, Buffy, even pseudo-sex, biting is usually involved," she informed them all without hesitation. Maybe that would prove to Spike that she wasn't ashamed of him.

"If the sex is any good, that is," Spike added.  "Which believe me, it was."

Willow didn't have to look at the vampire to know that this time he *was* smirking.  Buffy, on the other hand, had little trace of humor on her face as she stormed up to where Willow stood at the base of the steps.

"You mean, Spike's bitten you?  You *let* him bite you?"  Her eyes were already roaming over the exposed areas of Willow's neck.  To make it even easier for The Slayer, Willow reluctantly slid out of Spike's duster.

"It was a long time ago, so the bites have healed, of course," she said, tilting her head to the side. "But if you look close you can still see..."

She stopped speaking as Buffy's eyes widened with horror.  "I can't believe I didn't notice them before.  What's wrong with you, Willow?"  Buffy demanded brusquely.  "This is *Spike* we're talking about here.  A vampire.  A killer!"

Willow's eyes flashed at Buffy's patronizing tone.  "Oh, *that* Spike!" she growled in frustration.  "And all this time I thought we were talking about Spike the professional bowler.  Thanks for clearing that up, Buff."

Spike chuckled when Buffy actually took a step back from Willow's retort, as if the redhead had slapped her.  "Told you they wouldn't understand, Red," he said softly.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Cordelia asked as Xander strode up to Willow to took a good long look at her throat as well.

"I guess I had this silly idea that you might not understand."

"Does Angel know you've slept together?" Xander demanded, backing away from Willow as if she were contagious. "Because I can't believe he didn't kill Spike the moment he found out."

"Angel knows," Willow quickly answered before Spike could retort.  "I think he even understands."

"Is that true, Angel?" Buffy asked, looking over Willow's shoulder. "Do you really understand this mess?"

Willow spun around.  Angel was on the landing at the top of the stairs.  Bloody hell, Willow thought to herself.  How long had he been there?

"Yes, I understand completely," Angel said, looking at Willow.  His dark eyes were filled with regret, instead of anger.  Willow's hopes rose a fraction. Maybe he really did understand.

Finally getting to his feet, Spike seemed unconvinced.  "You do?" he asked as Angel slowly descended the steps towards them.

Angel stopped at the tread above Spike's, turning his attention to the vampire.  "It's understandable that after all that time alone, living among strangers in an unfamiliar time and place, that Willow would be in need of many things and that you, Spike, were more than happy to take advantage of the situation."

The sinking feeling returned.  Angel was still blaming Spike for everything.    "It wasn't like that," Willow told them all.  "He didn't take advantage of me.  I knew what I was doing."

"Willow," Angel began calmly, "it wouldn't be the first time Spike manipulated a situation and all the people in it.  He can easily have you think you're making your own decisions when actually he's the one pulling all the strings.  Isn't that right, Spike?"

"Think what you bloody-well like, mate," Spike said, dismissing Angel with a wave of his hand.  "Whatever gets you through those long and lonely nights."

"Speaking of lonely nights, Spike-my-boy, where's your precious Drusilla?" Angel pressed on.  "Oh, that's right.  It's girls' night out, yet again.  She does that a lot, doesn't she, Spike?  From what I can tell, she's out of town more than she's here."

To Willow's surprise, Spike actually flinched at Angel's taunt.  "You talk a load of rubbish, mate. Don't know what the hell you're going on about."

"Maybe Drusilla isn't quite the way you remembered her to be.  Or maybe you're not what Dru remembers?"  Angel smirked, sending a shiver through Willow.  There was a lot of Angelus in him tonight.  "As I remember, she's always been a bit fickle.  Just like you, Spike.  Her sire."

Shaking his head, Spike took one step closer to Angel until they were almost nose-to-nose.  "We learned from the best.  Didn't we, Angelus?"

Angel's grin didn't fade a bit.  Spike turned to Willow, taking his duster from her hands.  "I'd let you keep it, Red, but I'm afraid the Scabbies here may try to burn it in effigy.  But it's bloody cold, and you need to get inside.  Since I'm not likely to get an invitation from this rude lot, I'd best be off."

"Running away, Spike?" Buffy asked as the vampire slid into his coat.  "Leaving Willow to handle the rough times on her own yet again?"

"This has nothing to do with me, Slayer," Spike said calmly as he brushed past her toward the street.  "You're problem is with Red, not me, and she can more than take care of herself."

"This has *everything* to do with you, Spike," Buffy taunted.  "If it hadn't been for you kidnapping Willow, we wouldn't even be having this discussion!"

It wasn't easy, but somehow Willow kept silent.  This was Spike's fight not hers.

The blond vampire whirled around, his eyes glowing an amber warning that they'd almost pushed him too far.  Shaking his head and clenching his teeth, Spike looked away, obviously trying to gain control of his emotions.  Then he looked back at them through eyes that were again blue.

"You're right, Slayer," he barked, marching back toward them.  "We wouldn't.  Because the lady would be dead," he said, gesturing to Jenny. "Angel would be in hell, and you'd be missing in action, either dead or off licking your wounds somewhere, feeling sorry for yourself.  Meanwhile, Xapper and Red here would be left to pick up your slack.  Who knows what would have happened to them...they couldn't have lasted long, at any rate."  He lit another cigarette as he took in the stunned and guilty faces of the teens around him.  "So you're right, Slayer, if I hadn't kidnapped Willow, we wouldn't be having this discussion."  He exhaled slowly, the smoke slipping between lips twisted in a half-smile.

"Almost makes me wish I hadn't.  *Almost*," he repeated, winking at Willow one last time.  "Now, get inside before you freeze to death, Red."  He looked over at Angel, eyeing the long black wool coat the dark vampire was wearing.  "And you call yourself a bloody gentleman?  Doesn't take a soul to see Red's shivering with the cold."  With a final smirk, Spike sauntered away, disappearing into the shadows.

"Damn, he has some good exits," Xander said after a while, breaking the silence.

"If you think that's good," Willow said, "you should have seen some of mine over the years." Willow turned on her heels and headed for the steps.  She hoped to edge past Angel without looking at him, but he stepped in her path.  Reluctantly, Willow met his gaze.

"Willow, I'm sorry. I only--"

"I'm not angry with you, Angel," she said, cutting him off.  "I'm not angry with anyone.  Just...disappointed."  Before Angel could say anymore, Willow quickly sidestepped him, taking the steps two at a time.  As the others followed, whispering among themselves, she knew the worse was yet to come.

~Part: 20~

Angel scanned the darkened street.  He wouldn't put it past Spike to lurk in the shadows somewhere to glory in the latest uproar he'd caused.  When he was sure that the other vampire wasn't hiding nearby, Angel followed the others inside, who were still muttering and plotting amongst themselves.  He took his time hanging up his coat, all the while silently condemning himself for not offering it to Willow.  He hated it when Spike came across looking like quite the gentleman when in truth Spike was only concerned about one person, himself. Oh, Angel didn't doubt that the blond vampire cared for Willow, too, but only in terms of how she affected his life.  If Spike had to choose between Willow's happiness and his own, he'd choose himself every time, just like always.

Unfortunately, convincing Willow of Spike's true motives was proving next to impossible.  Angel knew if he wanted his friendship with Willow to continue to blossom as it had lately, then he had to keep his thoughts about Spike to himself as much as he could, and yet still keep Willow safe.  No easy feat, considering Spike's recent behavior was making it nearly impossible for Angel to keep quiet.  Yeah, Spike was good.  Angel had to give him that much.  And yet, Spike seemed to forget where he'd learned all his tricks in the first place--Angelus.  No, Spike wasn't fooling anyone...other than Willow, that is.

While Buffy, Xander and Cordelia had been spying on Willow, Angel had been doing a little detective work of his own.  It had only taken a few threats, bribes, and stakes in the right places to learn a few of Spike's more worrisome secrets.

Word on the street was that Drusilla had been spending increasing amounts of time out of town over the past few months.  She'd been growing unhappy with the 'changes' in her Spike and was unhappy about his attachment to another woman.  And not just any woman, a living one.

Naturally, Angel knew there had to be more to it, but most of Spike's remaining minions were still fairly faithful and no one was talking.  Something was going to happen soon, though, Angel was sure of it.  He could almost detect change on the wind.

Angel walked slowly into the heart of Slayer Central, his home.  Buffy, Xander and the others were still in deep discussion about Spike and Willow.  Giles and Jenny were desperately trying to make the young people look at the situation from Willow's point of view, but they appeared to be fighting a losing battle.

Willow was nowhere to be seen, and Angel knew instinctively where to find her.  He quickened his pace through the room.  He didn't want to get pulled into the other's discussion at the moment.  There'd be plenty of time to voice his opinion on the matter of Willow and Spike.  First he wanted to speak with Willow alone, while he still had the chance.

She was exactly where he thought she would be...in the kitchen.  The redhead was seated at the table, sipping from his 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish' mug, another of the humorous little gifts that the gang had given him over the past couple of years.  He still remembered how the old Willow would blush whenever she saw him drink from it and laugh when Xander mused that there weren't enough 'Bite Me, I'm an Irish Bloodsucker' mugs to be found in Sunnydale.

"Hey," Willow said as he stood in the doorway.  She was peering cautiously up at him over the rim of the mug.  She looked tired and stressed but not particularly angry, Angel was pleased to note.  "If you're here to explain what you said, Angel, don't.  Ditto if you're going to apologize.  Otherwise, come on in."

"No apologies or explanations.  Got it."  He stepped into the room, still trying to gauge her mood.  She looked calm enough, maybe too calm.  "I bought some more ice cream today, if you're hungry.  It's one of your favorites."She perked up even more.  "Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby?"

"Four pints."

She raised an eyebrow and seemed to be trying not to smile.  "Sounds like you were *expecting* me to have a rough night."

"No, they were on sale."

Willow shook her head with mock graveness.  "Having financial troubles, Angel?  I can't quite see you clipping coupons, so do we need to start buying generic soda and ice cream?"

"I have more than enough money to keep you in Ben & Jerry's, Willow.  Money is one thing I don't have to worry about for the next few..."

"Decades?"

"Centuries."

"Wow...You're a regular Donald Trump of the vampire set, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

Willow motioned for him to take the seat across from her, which he did, gladly.  "How'd you get all this money anyway, Angel?"

While he was glad they weren't discussing what had happened outside, Angel still winced at her question.  "Investments."

"Such as...?"

"Computers, plastics, Home Depot.  I've been very lucky."

"No one is that lucky."

Angel shifted in his seat.  How come he'd never noticed before how uncomfortable the chairs were?

"Come on, fess up, Angel.  Did you bite E.F. Hutton's grandpa or something?"

Angel stared at the tabletop, unable to look the redhead in the eye.  "William may have given me a few tips awhile back," he mumbled.

"W-william?" she sputtered, after a long pause.  "You mean Spike?"

Surprised by the flash of pain he felt at her words, his eyes darted up to meet hers.  "No, *my* William, before he became Spike."

He hoped that would be enough to satiate the curious redhead, but her silence and the intensity of her gaze let it be known that she'd settle for nothing but the whole story.  He sighed.  "Before you two left us in London, your Spike gave my William a few financial tips.  How do you think your Spike got all his money in this timeline and century?  As his sire, William was loyal to me and passed on Spike's advice.  I didn't take all of it, didn't even remember most of his suggestions.  Either way, Spike's most likely ten times wealthier than I am, which is fine with me."

Willow didn't say anything for a few long moments. She just continued to stare at him through penetrating green eyes, making Angel squirm in his seat once again.  He really needed to invest in some more comfortable chairs for this room.

"Oh," she finally said, then shrugged.  "It makes sense, I guess, but I have to wonder if Spike knows that he's basically responsible for all this," she said, gesturing with her hands to indicate the building around them.

"I don't think he knows."

"Still, you may need to rename it after him."

"Spike's Slayer Central?" Angel chuckled.  "I think he'd go back in time and give up all of his money first, don't you?"

Willow took another long drink.  "Luckily, he can't," she said softly, setting down the mug.  "No more time travel for us.  It was a one-trip-only spell, not a life-time pass."

"Thank, God.  It's confusing enough now.  Imagine if there were more versions of all of us running about."

Willow laughed, but it sounded hollow and forced.

Silence fell between them for a while.  Across from him, Willow looked as if her thoughts were a million miles away.  Her delicate hand lay on the table near her mug, looking lost somehow.  Angel longed to reach out and intertwine his fingers through hers and reassure her that somehow he'd make everything right again, but he was afraid she'd pull away.  The timing wasn't right.

"Are you okay, Willow?  Are you upset about how I came into my money?  Should I have lied and told you I struck gold?  Found oil?  Invented Post-It notes?"She finally looked up at him and grinned.  "No, Angel, of course not!  In fact, it only seems right that something else good should come from our trip back in time.  I'm just trying to prepare myself for what's ahead," she said, glancing at the hallway where the voices of the others wafted into the room.  "I must admit I wasn't quite expecting to face the Spanish Inquisition tonight."

"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition, Willow."

Willow laughed at his Monty Python quote, which made his own grin widen.

"It's good to see you smile, Willow, and hear you laugh.  You should do both more often.

"What do you mean?" she replied, still smiling.  "I laugh at you a lot and not always behind your back, either."

"Oh?"

"I mean that I smile and laugh a lot *with* you, Angel.  Not *at* you.  Cuz why would I stare at your back?  Not that you don't have a great, er, back, but..."  Willow paused to take a breath.  She was actually blushing as she shyly dropped her eyes to study her mug again.  "I think I'll quit talking now..."

Angel was very pleased at the idea of Willow sneaking peeks at his 'back'.  "Don't worry, Willow.  I knew what you meant," he said, letting her off the hook even though he found her blush enchanting.

Almost as if in reward, Willow looked up at him again and positively beamed.  Angel felt an ache in his chest.  Her sweet smile made him feel as if there were nothing that he couldn't do.  It did more for him than a pint of blood or a week's worth of brooding, as if she could harness the power of absolution and contentment in her smile.

Angel had to look away, otherwise he'd be too tempted to lean across the table and show her with his lips just how much she meant to him.  He cleared his throat.  "Now how about that ice-cream before we go and face the others?"

Willow straightened her spine and sighed deeply, as if preparing for bad news.  "No thanks," she said.  "Don't think it would taste too good with the Beaujolais," she said, raising her mug to him before taking a long drink.

"You're drinking wine?"  Only then did Angel notice the open wine bottle sitting on the counter to his left.  Maybe she was madder at them than she was letting on.

Willow got up to refill her mug.  The bottle was about half full, and he was sure that there hadn't been any open bottles of wine lying around.  No wonder she'd smiled at him and his jokes.  She was tipsy!

Angel's heart and hopes alike fell at the thought.  And yet, when he really studied Willow, her coloring, pupils, and the pulse fluttering on the side of her pale, delicate throat, she didn't appear intoxicated at all.

Strange.

Willow shrugged.  "After the conversation outside, and the one that's yet to come, I think I deserve a little treat.  Actually, since it's so cold I was thinking of making some mulled wine.  It's an old recipe I picked up in Germany, but since you don't have any cloves or cardamom, I decided to keep it simple instead."  She held up the half-full bottle.  "Would you care for some, Angel?"

"Sure."  Not that he needed a drink, but the more he had in his cup, the less Willow could consume.  The last thing any of them needed right now was for Willow to get drunk.

"Where'd you get the wine, Willow," he asked, trying very hard to sound nonchalant and nonjudgmental.  "It looks like its from my collection, but--"

Willow laughed as she took his Chewbacca mug from the rack.  "I was with the Rom for decades, Angel, remember?  It's going to take more than a simple locked cabinet to keep me out.  If you're determined to keep something from me, you may want to consider combination locks instead, since they hadn't invented those yet."  She flashed him what he'd already labeled as her devious smile, then filled both mugs, emptying the bottle.  "It would probably take me at least a couple of days to figure out how to pick one of those."

Angel couldn't help smiling.  Every day he learned something unexpected about Willow.  Sometimes it was something cute, like the fact that she knew how to churn butter and make bread from scratch.  Other times he discovered something more mysterious in nature, like when she lifted Giles' wallet three times in fifteen minutes, each time causing the Watcher to announce that he was completely flummoxed as to her pick-pocketing methods.  Everything about Willow was fascinating and enticing.

"I'll keep that in mind, Willow."

She started to hand him the mug, then pulled it back for a second to fake a pout.  "Don't look at me like that, Angel.  This is the first drink I've had in over a week.  Besides, one intervention is enough for today, don't you think?"

Angel grinned, enjoying the mischievous glint in her emerald eyes.  He believed Willow when she'd told him before that she only had the occasional glass of wine when her parents were out of town or when she was with Spike, which wasn't very often.  "I won't call AA on you this week then, Willow."

He stood and reached out to take the mug she offered, his fingers unintentionally closing over hers, sending a white-hot surge of desire throughout his body.  Angel groaned involuntarily, but he had no intention of relinquishing his hold on the mug, not when the simple sensation of her soft, warm skin beneath his was more tantalizing than the finest wine in the world, and more intoxicating than any substance known to man or demon.

Angel dragged his gaze away from where it had been greedily drinking in the sight of their intertwined fingers and found that she was already staring up at him through eyes wide with a curious deep longing.  Their gazes met and held, the air in the room growing heavy and heated.

God, she was beautiful and becoming more beautiful with each passing day.  At this rate, in a few months he'd be unable to stand in the same room with her without drooling helplessly at her feet.  Or pulling her into his arms.  Whichever came first.

Unable to resist, and not wanting to even try, Angel caressed her petal-soft cheek with his free hand.  Willow's eyes fluttered shut, and with a sigh, she leaned in to his touch.  Her willingness heightened Angel's hunger and his eyes devoured every inch of her flushed face, stopping on her rosy, inviting lips.

He traced their tempting softness with a single finger, causing her to slowly open her eyes, as if in a daze.

"Angel..." she began in a weak tremulous whisper, but her words faded as his thumb brushed over her lips again.  She was peering deeply into his eyes.  The blood pounded in his veins when he saw no hint of fear there, no loathing.  Their desire only intensified as they seemed to simultaneously lean toward the promise of each other's touch.  Entranced, he again traced her moist lips with a trembling finger, and this time she surprised him by parting her lips.  Her tongue flicked out, ever so quickly to taste the tip of his finger before catching him between her teeth for a brief moment.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was hungry tonight, he thought as she released him with more than a hint of a seductive grin curving her lips.  He cupped the side of her face, and she covered his hand with her own.

At that moment, he became vaguely aware that the voices in the other room had become louder, but he didn't care.  The smoldering emerald flames of Willow's eyes told him that she didn't seem to care either.  He slowly lowered his head towards her, still half-afraid she'd pull away or scream with fright, but she didn't.  Her half-closed eyes seem mesmerized by his lips.

The mood was broken by the sound of raised voices from the other room and the click-clack of heels coming towards them down the hall.  Willow immediately looked toward the door and stepped back, leaving the Star Wars mug in his hand.

He would have much rather been holding her than Chewbacca.

Jenny appeared in the doorway, clearing her throat. Like guilty teens, Willow and Angel stepped even further away from each other.
 

"We were, uh, just getting something to drink," Willow offered in a trembling voice.

"Well, you may want to get out here.  The theories are running wild and free, and I'm afraid Rupert and I are failing miserably at keeping things in check."

Angel cleared his throat.  "We'll be right there, Jenny.  Thanks."

Willow turned back to Angel, and he noticed that she was already wearing a more reserved look.  Although her breathing was still rapid and her face still flushed, she was no longer looking at him through eyes softened with desire.  It was back to business already.

"It, um, looks like it's time for me to face the music, yet again," she said with grim determination.  "Cheers," she said, then drank the last few swallows of wine.  When she rinsed out her mug and left it in the sink, he noticed her hands were shaking.

"Just remember, Willow," Angel said when she turned back around, "they love you."  He held her trembling hands to emphasize his point. "Everything they say and do is out of love and concern for you."

Willow took a deep breath and smiled.  "I'll try to remember that.  Thank you, Angel."  She squeezed his hands before releasing them, and then turned and left the kitchen.

***
Willow stopped in the hallway to steady her nerves and survey the scene before she ventured any further into the room.  Her mind was still whirling and her body was still in turmoil from the promise of Angel's touch and the taste of his skin, but the scene before her was as sobering as an ice-cold shower.
In the main room, Buffy paced the floor behind the couch, while Giles sat in one of the leather chairs, rubbing his temples and shaking his head.  Xander and Cordelia were perched atop the round table in the middle of the room.  No one seemed to notice her presence, and for a moment, Willow was tempted to turn right back around, pull Angel into the kitchen, and insist that they continue where they'd left off.  A shiver rippled through her from head to toe.  It was a little frightening how badly she'd wanted his kiss.  Her skin was still on fire everywhere they'd touched, and all she'd been able to think of from the moment their hands had touched was than she wanted her entire body to feel that way.

It was so tempting to lose herself in Angel's embrace again that Willow felt a little bit guilty.  Seeming to sense her need, Angel lay a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"Just remember, we love you, Willow."

We?  Willow was just about to call him on his choice of words, when a comment by Xander demanded her immediate attention.

"You know," Xander was saying to the other teens, "it does make sense...sick, twisted sense, but sense nevertheless."

"How do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"Oh yes, please do go on," Giles said in a weary tone.  "I'm sure this will be fascinating."

"Willow was stuck with Spike for a very long time, forced to endure his company, right?  Well, maybe during that time she started to lose track of reality a little bit.  You know what a soft touch Willow is.  She would have started to over-sympathize with Spike.  What choice did she have?  After a time, Spike probably controlled her thoughts and actions until she had no will of her own."

"You mean Spike cleaned out her brain," Cordelia stated simply.

"Brainwashing?" Buffy translated.

"Exactly."

Giles groaned and Jenny whispered a soft, "See what I mean," to Willow before going to stand behind Giles.  Willow and Angel followed.

"Hold it right there, you three," Willow said as she confronted them in the middle of the room.  "I am *not* Patty Hearst, nor am I some psychology textbook example of the kidnappee falling under the spell of the kidnapper."

"No?" Xander retorted from his seat a top the round table.

"No."

Cordelia clutched Xander's arm, but he pulled loose and slid off the table before striding closer to Willow.  Willow didn't back up, but she didn't like the disgusted look on Xander's face at all.

"Well, you could have fooled me, Willow," he said.  "You've been acting like you'd rather spend time with that bloodsucker than with us.  The way you two are always touching...it's disgusting, and it's wrong, Willow!  So if it isn't a side effect of being forced to be with him all the time, what is it, then?"

"And don't give us any more of that friendship excuse either," Buffy added.  She moved to stand next to Xander and crossed her arms in front of her chest, making quite the united front.  "How can you be a friend with someone to whom you represent the only tier in their food pyramid?"

Willow took a deep breath.  She'd been hoping that the wine would help her relax and stay calm, but as far as she could tell, it was having no effect whatsoever.  Apparently, wine used to be a lot stronger in the good old days.  "I am *not* food to Spike," she said with as much calm as she could muster.

Buffy took a step closer and flicked a finger at the faded bite scars Willow wore.  "Oh really?  Then what are those on your neck, Willow?  Tattoos?"

Xander snorted derisively.  "Let me guess.  He never swallowed, right?"

Willow didn't flinch under the force of their scathing remarks, at least not externally, but on the inside Willow already felt bruised and bloodied from their verbal blows.  Automatically remembering what her martial arts masters had taught her, Willow schooled her breathing and counted to ten--albeit very quickly--all the while picturing her calming place.  The cascade of water shrouded in mist wasn't working as well as it used to, and for a moment, Willow found herself trembling from the strain of controlling her temper.  Perhaps it was time to find a new calming place.

"I know this has been quite a shock for all of you," she began when she had finally gained some control.  "And I don't really expect you to understand, but--"

"You're right, Willow," Buffy interrupted.  "I don't understand, because I'm the Slayer and Spike's a vampire, a soulless demon, and it's my job to rid the world of his kind."

Willow tried not to roll her eyes at Buffy's "I am the Chosen One" rhetoric, but her store of patience was being rapidly depleted.

"And it looks like Willow's job is to sleep with them," Xander quipped.

Willow flinched.  Xander's comment had cut her so deeply that she expected to see her own blood pooling at her feet. "That's unfair, Xander."

"I call 'em like I see 'em, Willow."

"Hypocrite much, Xander?" Cordelia said suddenly.  She moved to stand in between Willow and the other teens.  "While I agree the thought of Willow and Spike doing...*things*...makes me want to consider becoming a nun, need I remind you of a certain Inca mummy girl, Xander?  Or your favorite teacher that substituted as a praying mantis?  The only reason you weren't deflowered by some demon-thing, Xander Harris, is because Buffy kept killing your dates before you could get to second base!"  Cordelia then focused the same reproachful look on the Slayer.

"And Buffy?  Hello?  Have you forgotten about the Snake Frat or that in Willow's timeline, you couldn't control your hormones for a couple of years, let alone a century, causing Angel to go all evil!  So sorry, but I don't think you have room to talk either."  Cordelia softened a little.  "*None* of us do."

"We live on a Hellmouth," Jenny added.  "Good living, breathing, non-possessed dates are hard to find."

Willow wanted to hug Jenny for trying to introduce some levity into the conversation, as well as Cordelia for her show of understanding.

Buffy didn't seem as impressed.  "Point taken, Cordelia, but that doesn't change the fact that Spike is a vampire and therefor evil and just like all of Xander's previous dates, deserves to be staked!"

"Buffy," Willow began in an even tone, "I'm afraid things aren't that black or white.  There's a whole shade of gray you're choosing to ignore."

"I don't choose to ignore it, Willow.  I have to.  I don't have the time to weigh all the possibilities.  When I weigh, people die.  So soulless, bloodsucking, killer demon equals bad in my book.  Bad gets staked.  End of story."

"How convenient," Willow retorted under her breath, and then something occurred to her.  "You know," she began, moving to sit on the arm of a nearby chair, "during the years I've spent with this version of Spike, I actually never, *ever* saw him kill anyone."

"Yeah, right," Buffy laughed.

"I'm serious, Buffy.  I don't remember ever seeing him kill someone.  I never saw him hurt anyone either, for that matter.  Except, Angelus, that is."

The room went silent.  Even Angel and Giles looked surprised.

Giles stood up and removed his glasses.  "Are you being completely serious, Willow?"

"Yes."  Willow was actually a little surprised herself.  She hadn't really thought about it, but it was true.  "The only time I saw Spike raise a hand, or bare a fang, against anyone was when he had to protect us.  That's the truth.  What about you, Buffy?"  Willow continued, hoping her voice didn't betray her nervousness.  While Buffy had never mentioned seeing Spike kill anyone since she'd been back, for all she knew, Spike had killed dozens of people.  Her stomach clenched at the thought.  He was, after all, a vampire, but there was no time to dwell on that minor fact at the moment.  "Have you ever witnessed Spike kill anyone?"

"Of course I have," she replied.  "Spike loves leaving his victims lying about for us to find.  It's like a game to him."

"Not the old Spike, Buffy.  I'm talking about *this* Spike.  The one that came back with me.  *My* Spike."

"Do you have to keep referring to him like that?" Xander whined.  "*My* Spike?"
They ignored him.  Buffy looked at a loss for words.  "Well, I..."  She looked at the others for help.

"What about the rest of you?" Willow continued, her fingers mentally crossed.  "Since we came back a few months ago, have you actually seen him kill anyone?"

Slowly, reluctantly, they all shook their heads, even Angel.

Buffy's mouth hung open for a moment, then she said, "That's not the point, Willow!  Whether we've had to clean up after him or not, Spike's a vampire and *all* vampires should be killed!"

Xander cleared his throat and looked at Angel.  "Uh, the T-shirts in the wash, but as always, present company is excluded, Deadboy.  You have a soul, which makes you one of the good guys."

"No offense taken," Angel replied stoically.

Willow shook her head and rubbed at her aching temples.  Her head was beginning to swim from all the accusations, theories, and deep discussions.  "You know, just because some vampires don't have souls doesn't mean they can't be different, even nice, relatively speaking," she grumbled.

There was a chorus of groans from the teens.  "Come on, Angel.  Back us up here, bud," Xander pleaded.  "I know you can't be buying Spike's act."
All eyes turned to Angel, who was still standing quietly at the edge of the group.

"Not a red cent of it," the vampire said after a long pause, dashing Willow's already fragile hopes that the evening would somehow end on a positive note.

She tried to remain calm even as she felt a familiar anger spark to life deep within her psyche.  After all, she told herself, Angel's answer shouldn't surprise her.  It was completely unrealistic to keep hoping that one day Angel would give up his hatred and mistrust of Spike, even for her.  She'd only kept hoping because she couldn't bare the thought of her life without either vampire if they couldn't learn to accept each other in her life.

"Angel, you act as if all vampires are exactly the same," Willow said, faking a light-hearted tone.  "You know they have free will just like we do.  They aren't mindless zombies whose only thoughts are to kill and feed.  In fact, they can be very reasonable--"

"Yeah, right," Xander butted in to grumble, but Willow and Angel ignored him.

"Only when they want something from you, Willow," Angel told her in a corrosive tone that she found far from soothing.

Angel slowly advanced to stand before her, and Willow didn't like the resigned look he wore.

Willow frowned as her mood quickly took a similarly dark turn.  And to think, just a few minutes ago, they'd almost kissed!  "Spike doesn't want anything from me, Angel, at least nothing that I'm not willing to give."  She felt only a twinge of guilt when Angel flinched at her choice of words. "Spike may not be a saint, or reformed, or anything else like that, but he's special..."

"'specially annoying and dangerous, maybe," Xander chimed in.

Willow whirled to face the teen that she'd almost forgotten was in the room  "Shut up, Xander!"

"No, I won't shut up, Willow.  I think we've all been too quiet about your relationship with Spike already.  I can't believe you're telling us that it's okay with you if Spike kills four or five people a night, women and children, as long we don't see it and he's *nice* to you?  With friends like that..."

"Spike a friend?"  Angel laughed.  "Humans are food or fodder to vampires, a means to an end and little more.  Vampires don't have human friends, occasionally servants or lovers maybe but not friends."  Willow could almost hear an unspoken:  "Which are you, Willow?" at the end of Angel's little speech.

She held her ground, trying hard to choke down the bitter taste of resentment that was rising in her throat, making it hard to speak.  "You don't really believe that, Angel."

Suddenly softening, Buffy said, "Willow, he doesn't mean himself.  Angel has a soul and that's different.  Of course Willow's your friend, right, Angel?"

Neither Willow nor Angel bothered to look at the Slayer.  They were too busy exchanging glares and assessing the other's anger.

"Buffy's right," Angel said, finally breaking the silence between them, but not the tension.  "I have a soul, and that let's me be capable of more control than other vampires."

Willow found herself smirking at his arrogance.  She didn't quite know the source of her own anger and bitterness, but it felt good, damn good, to let it run its course for a change.

"And when did you become the speaker for the rest of the world's vampire population, Angel?" she snapped back in reply.  "Maybe before you had a soul *you* were incapable of using women for anything more than food or sex, but that doesn't mean every vampire couldn't handle it!  Maybe you were just too weak."

Her angry retort hardened Angel's features.  He stalked even closer and loomed over her, making Willow feel uncomfortably petite and fragile.

"No, Willow, it is *not* possible," he said in a voice cold enough to send a chill down her spine.  "Spike used you, Willow.  He *used* you.  If not *just* for sex, then for some other greater but ultimately selfish purpose as well."  His eyes narrowed, sending dangerous sparks that threatened to ignite the very air around them.  "And now little Spike has decided he doesn't want to be alone, and you've become a security blanket to him, just another leather duster he can pull out and use whenever he needs it."

She jutted out her chin, becoming more infuriated with every word he spoke.  "No, Angel!  You are so wrong.  Spike knows he can depend on me, just like I know I can depend on him.  It's nice to know that I have someone who cares about me so much!"

"You think I don't care?" he asked in a growl that would have been funny in any other situation.

"I think your hatred of Spike makes you unable to see straight."

"And your love of him does the same, and it'll be the death of you if you don't snap out of it, Willow!"

The room fell silent, everyone holding their breath for Willow's reply, but she didn't budge or speak.  There was no way she was going to dignify his juvenile comment with an answer.

Perhaps sensing he'd pushed her too far, Angel took a step back "I don't know exactly when or where, but Spike does plan to change you soon."  His tone was softer but still strained.

Here we go again.  Willow rolled her eyes and spun away.  "We've been through this before, and I'm tired of the repetition.  In fact, I've had more than enough of defending myself for one night, and I'm going home now.  We can continue this later, whenever you've *all* grown up a little."  She marched for the door, but was stopped by familiar words from more than a century and half earlier.

"No, Rose," Angel had begun in good imitation of Spike, "you just wait, because the second your life isn't necessary anymore...when you quit being useful because this bloody spell is complete...I'll shut your gob for you, permanently..."

She gripped the nearest bookshelf for support but didn't turn around.  "Don't do this, Angel," she said, and the words came out sounding like equal parts pleading and warning.

"I'm not going to stop, Willow.  This is for your own good, and I'm tired of pretending that everything is okay.  *That* was the real Spike talking, Willow," Angel continued, slowly moving to stand behind her.  "The one that traded you for Drusilla, the one that nearly abandoned you to the likes of me."

"Spike didn't mean that and you know it.  He was just putting on a show for you at the time."

"Sounded to me like he meant it.  Maybe later he just figured out that he needed a better plan.  You were more useful under his thumb than mine.  He's as selfish as they come, Willow.  Always has been.  He manipulated us both, Willow, and he still is."

Willow couldn't turn to face the vampire, but she could feel him, directly behind her.  Heat was radiating off of him in waves or perhaps it was only her own anger reflecting back on her that was making the blood coursing through her veins boil.  "Well, like he said, he learned it from the best, didn't he, Angelus?"

"Yes, he did, which is only further proof that I know what he's going to do.  He's going to turn you, Willow.  I can feel it in the pit of my soul.  Hate me if you have to, Willow.  Hate me but believe me."

"Hate us all, if you have to Willow, but listen to Angel!" Buffy pleaded.  "It's your life on the line, your soul."

In turn, every one spoke up, agreeing with Angel, including Giles and finally Jenny.  "I think Angel's right, Willow," the computer teacher said.  "Spike's using you.  You must see it."

Slowly, Willow turned to face her friends, but for some reason their blatant looks of concern only heightened her confusion and anger.  "Using me for what?" she said harshly.  "Company when he eats his deep fried onion?  While I know that's not particularly healthy, did I miss the Surgeon General's warning that eating fried foods causes soul loss?"

Giles approached her slowly, but the paternal almost pitying look on his face warned Willow that she wasn't going to like what he was about to say either.

"I know it may be hard to see, Willow.  In all honesty, I did not really see it until now, but think about it, Willow.  Spike does not appear to be doing anything to assist you in adjusting to your new life here, does he?"

"Oh, please!  If it weren't for Spike, I would be miserable.  He's the one keeping me sane.  He's the only one who understands me, who I can really talk to and be myself with."

"That's my point exactly, Willow," Giles offered.  "We're here for you, we've always been here for you, but you turn to Spike instead.  Considering what you've been through, it's quite natural.  Yet, in this case, it's not particularly helpful, Willow.  You need to find normalcy in this world now, or at least as normal as the Hellmouth will allow, but I'm afraid you can't do that with Spike in your back pocket, so to speak."

Angel looked relieved that the others were backing him up.  "Spike's trying to tear us apart."

"Us?"  Willow couldn't help laughing even though she felt like crying.  "There is no 'us', Angelus."

The fire in Angel's eyes died a little.  "I meant that he's driving you and your friends apart, Willow.  Driving a wedge between you.  If I know Spike, he's being pretty subtle about it.  He's probably hoping you'll become so miserable you'll ask him to turn you.  It would make it easier on him then, wouldn't it? "
"You're really stretching now."

"Am I?  He's going to turn you, Willow.  I know it, he knows it.  Everyone knows it but you."

"It makes sense, Willow," Giles said sympathetically.  "While I don't deny that you and Spike have a, er, special relationship, I think that only makes it that much more understandable that he'd want to protect you.  And the only way he knows how to protect you permanently is to--"

"No, you're wrong."

"Not this time, Willow," Angel said.  "I've heard things around town.  Some of his minions are talking, but more importantly, he's admitted it to me.  While he hasn't said it with words, he hasn't denied it either.  But I know him, Willow.  I can still read his face, and when he thought he was going to lose you that night in the park..."

"The night *he* *saved* me?"

"Willow, try to understand.  Spike cares about you the only way he knows how:  selfishly and obsessively, too much to let you go.  When has he ever let go of anything?  Who else would go to the lengths he did to get Drusilla back?  And you expect him to let you die when he can stop that?  When he can guarantee you'll be with him forever?  Maybe he promised you, he wouldn't, but he knows that once you've been turned, you won't care what he promised you when you were alive and still had a soul."

Willow found herself reaching for the support of the bookcase again.  Her head was swimming with thoughts and feelings that she couldn't control and dare not express.

Unfortunately, Angel, possibly sensing that he was getting through to her, wasn't letting up.  "How many times have you trusted Spike before only to have him betray you?"  Her tummy flipped as Angel tenderly caressed the side of her throat with one finger.  "And none of these look particularly *friendly*."

Embarrassed by her body's automatic reaction to the vampire's touch, Willow angrily swatted his hand away.  "Then how do you know they're not yours?" she snapped back.

Angel staggered back a pace or two, there was a collective gasp from the younger members of their audience, and then Willow realized what she had just said.  The last important secret about her past was a secret no more.

Xander's mouth fell open, eyes rounded by the shock of betrayal turned to Angel  "A-angel?" he sputtered.

Buffy had paled but the Slayer in her was quickly taking over, despite her shock.  "When did Angel bite you?" she demanded.

Willow covered her face with trembling hands.  "Angel didn't bite me; *Angelus* did."

"You never said Angelus bit you," Buffy said.  "You never even told us you met Angelus after he'd become a vampire."

Cordelia shook her head.  "I can't believe you were bitten by Angelus."

"Oh, there's more to it than that, isn't there, Angel?" Willow said, dragging her hands from her face to look the vampire in the eye.  "You want to talk about manipulation?  You want to talk about using people?  If Spike's a master manipulator, it's only because he learned it from Angel!"

"Someone tell me what happened," Buffy demanded.

"I was obsessed with Rose, with Willow, after Darla turned me." Angel began.  "I thought Rose was dead, but when I saw her all those years later..."

Buffy quickly moved to stand between Willow and Angel, like a referee at a boxing match.  "But you wouldn't have hurt Willow, right, Angel?"  Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Willow.  "He wouldn't have really hurt you."

Willow almost laughed at Buffy's naivete, but she contained herself.  Instead, she felt her anger growing exponentially and she had to bite her tongue to keep herself quiet.

Angel, on the other hand, wasn't holding back.  "Damn it, Buffy!  How many times have I told you how evil I was?  I slaughtered countless people...women and children, too.  I tortured, maimed and drove the living insane for the sheer fun of it.  Everything you know Spike to be, I was much worse."

"I-I'm sorry, Angel," Buffy sputtered, taking a step back from the angry vampire.  "It's not that we don't believe you.  It's just hard for us to think of you that way."

"Rose was my obsession," Angel continued, beginning to pace the floor without looking at Willow.  "Between Spike and I, we tried to break her, mentally.  Yet I didn't want to share her...not with Spike, not with anyone.  Spike felt the same way about Drusilla, so we had a ceremony where I traded Dru for Willow so I could own her.  Spike had bitten Willow first, so technically she was his, but I traded for her...Spike was willing."

Xander held up his hands.  "Hold on...," he said to Angel.  "You bartered for Willow like she was some cheap beads or a Midwestern State?"

"Yep," Willow chuckled coolly, trying to ignore the dark void that was growing within her.  "Angel here is the proud owner of one century old teenager."

"At least that explains all the drama between you two," Cordelia said.  "I was starting to think you were both hopeless, but now I know you've got some real issues.  Maybe you should go on The Jerry Springer Show and work it all out?"

Angel quit pacing in front of the redhead.  "Willow, I don't think of you that way now."

"Oh please," she said haughtily.  She no longer tried to control her words.  She just let them flow, not caring who they hurt.  "It's in your blood, Angel.  Soul or not, you still have a demon in you, and it hates seeing me with Spike, doesn't it?  Vampires don't share their toys well."

Angel's features hardened, as if slapped, then stepped back.  He actually chuckled, much like Angelus used to.  "We're too late," he said to the others.  "She won't believe us, no matter what we say."  He turned back to Willow, no longer smiling.  "Spike's already gotten to you, hasn't he?  He's twisted everything around so that no matter what we say, we lose.  He's told you that you can't trust us, *any* of us.  That no one can understand you like he does.  No one ever can, especially not your old friends, right?

"They'll never understand you, pet," Angel continued in his imitation of Spike.  "Not like I do.  How can they?  They're still bloody kids while you and I have seen the world together.  And Angel?  What a bloody undeserving wanker!"  Angel's face relaxed, and once again he looked and sounded like Angel.  "I can only imagine what he's telling you about me, Willow.  He's either trying to frighten you away from me or guilt you away.  Probably both.  Hell, I wouldn't put it past him to tell you that he's not so sure my soul isn't permanent after all."

Show's how much you know, mister! Willow thought, although she couldn't look Angel in the eye.  While Spike may have voiced many of those opinions, he had never implied that she should worry about Angel losing his soul.  Had he?  She started to think back to some of her recent conversations with Spike but it was too easy to recall Spike using words similar to Angel's.  Except for the thing about Angel's soul, everything sounded painfully familiar.

So Willow quit thinking about it and latched on to that discrepancy instead. Obviously Angel didn't know what he was talking about.  Who was being manipulative now? she thought with escalating fury as Angel continued to push.

"I thought you were smarter than this, Willow.  I thought you'd eventually be able to see through him all on your own, but even now he's in control.

"Control?"  Willow shook her head as she slowly glided toward the vampire.  "That's what this is all about, isn't it?  Control?  Spike tricked you, took away your favorite toy and cursed you with your soul.  You hate Spike because he's in control and you aren't!"  Willow backed away from the vampire and closer to the door.  "Spike was so strong when we were together back then, wasn't he, Angelus?  And he's still so very strong around me, so in control.  But you?  No, not the mighty Angelus.  You could never have done it!  The great Angelus could barely curb his appetite for a day let alone a century!  All that time I spent with Spike and he never really hurt me, never tried to kill me or turn me or take my virginity.  But you, Angelus?  A few hours with me and you were ready to...well, we won't go into details in front of the children, shall we?"

Angel stoically faced Willow's ever-growing tirade, which only further provoked her.  The others seemed too shocked to utter a sound, which was fine with her.

"You hate Spike and want him out of my life because you can't stand the fact that he is more of a man without his soul than you are now *with* one!" Even when Angel's eyes flashed yellow, Willow couldn't stop the bitter words from pouring out of her.  "Face it, you hate him because he's a constant reminder that it takes a soul for you to do what he can do without one!"

Other than Willow's haggard breathing and the indiscernible echo of her shouted words, the room went silent.  She wiped the tears from her cheek and started backing toward the door.

Shaking visibly, Angel spun around and stalked down the hall to his bedroom.  The slamming of Angel's bedroom door, immediately followed by the sound of shattering glass and breaking wood, seemed to snap the others out of it.  They turned their pale faces to Willow, and all their mouths opened at the same time.

"Don't say a word!" Willow commanded, holding up her hand to try to hold back their condemnations.  "I think I've said enough for one night, maybe even one lifetime, don't you?"  She practically sprinted for the door, stopped and added over her shoulder.  "Well, you know everything now, happy?"

She was running through the cool night air before anyone could answer.

****

Buffy winced when Willow slammed the front door, and then jumped at the sound of more destruction coming from Angel's room.  So did the others.

"That was intense," Xander said, pulling Cordy into a hug.  Giles slumped back down on the couch, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.  Buffy returned to her previous pacing.

"Giles, Jenny...how much do you know about the spell Spike used to go back in time?"

"There's not much to know, Buffy.  Even the Rom don't have much information about it," Jenny said, taking a seat next to Giles.  "Why?"

"Maybe something happened to Willow with that spell that Spike cast...something that, I don't know, binds them together, somehow.  Willow does have a point about Spike's ability to control himself, and they seem so drawn to each other.  The spell seems like the only explanation we haven't fully explored."

Giles sighed and exchanged a weary look with Jenny.  "Buffy, while I agree that Willow seems blind to the danger that she's in, I don't see any reason to believe that there's something mystical behind it."

"It's possible that Willow is telling us the truth," Jenny agreed.  "Perhaps she and Spike simply have, despite the odds, managed to develop a very close friendship."

"So are you telling me that there isn't the possibility that something else is going on here?" Buffy asked.  "Do you remember her description of the ritual?  Blood was exchanged.  She was the...*container*...for the spell and Spike just tagged along for the ride.  The spell was originally only meant for *one person*."

"And I think we all know by now that when doing spells, it is kinda important to follow the directions," Xander added, nodding in agreement with the Slayer.

"Exactly," Buffy said.  "So isn't it possible that something more is going on here?  Something that Willow and maybe even Spike doesn't understand?  I mean, I've met a lot of vampires, Giles, and I have to admit that this Spike does seem a little different somehow."

"You're starting to sound like Willow, Buffy," Cordelia said.  "Is he getting to you, too?  Are you and Willow going to wear matching pro-Spike shirts?"

"Don't be ridiculous.  Spike's still evil, through and through, but we've got to do something, and other than locking Willow in her room...."

Giles slipped his glasses back on before casting a sheepish glance Jenny's way.  "I suppose it is possible that when they used such a powerful spell that was originally intended for an individual human--"

"Then it's research time," Buffy commanded.  "Xander, Cordy and I will hit the books, Jenny, you take the computer, and Giles...maybe you should contact someone in the counsel...discretely..."

"Do you really think all of this is necessary, Buffy?"

"Yes, Giles.  I *really* do.  My best friend's life is completely entangled in a vampire's, and I'm not going to allow that to continue.

"What if Willow prefers it that way, Buffy?" Jenny asked.  "I don't think she'd appreciate this kind of interference in her life."

"Willow will thank us for this one day," Buffy replied, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself as much as the others.  "One day..."

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