Feeding Habits

By Medea

Chapter Five

It was a week after Willow had discovered that feeding from terminally-ill humans could result in severe emotional indigestion that she sensed a human presence in the hotel. Angel and Spike were...otherwise occupied...so the redheaded minion went to see whether it was someone they knew or an opportunity for room service.

A smile lit her face when she found Tara standing in the lobby, looking uncertain as to whether or not she really wanted to seek out the hotel's residents. Quite a healthy reaction for a human in a lair shared by three vampires.

"Tara? Hey..." Willow greeted her former lover, "What brings you here?"

The shy, doe-eyed woman stepped forward to share a warm hug with her and answered, "I just...wanted to talk after your last e-mail."

"Oh....okay..." Willow began hesitantly. As she scrambled to think of a slightly more private place they might go, she ruled out the suite she shared with Angel. She knew that Tara didn't need to be exposed to sire and childe in one of their more intimate moments. And it didn't feel right to go back to Spike's room...

"Why don't we go out to the courtyard? We may not be able to see the stars very well in the Los Angeles sky, but it's still a beautiful night," Willow suggested, gesturing toward the door.

They wandered out to the courtyard with its Spanish colonial arcade and garden plot brimming with fragrant jasmine, and settled themselves on a bench. Willow kept a respectful distance from her human friend, sensing the anxiety that welled up inside the sandy-haired woman.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" the redheaded vampire prompted her nervous companion, "And if it has to do with the ethics of euthanasia, Angel already went over that with me. I can't say that it all makes sense, but I promise that it's not something I'll try again..."

Willow sounded very like her old self, as she rambled hastily in anticipation of what she thought was Tara's main concern about the last e-mail message she had sent, which detailed her experience at the hospital in her ongoing quest to alter her feeding habits. However, Willow was caught off guard when Tara gazed at her sympathetically and declared, "It's been really hard for you, hasn't it?"

"What?" Willow blinked at her.

"Trying to...uh...change your d-diet," Tara explained, "It's been a challenge to give up killing...and things aren't working out quite so well."

Willow's heart sank. Her friends in Sunnydale must have given up on her. They had probably reached the same conclusion that Spike had -- she was a demon, and she would never escape that part of her nature. The fiasco at the hospital simply confirmed it. And it had fallen to Tara to cut the last of Willow's ties to her past, and tell her to move on.

And stay the hell out of Buffy's way.

"Yeah," Willow admitted heavily, "The taste for the kill is pretty powerful. And feeding from someone without their noticing is tricky business."

"I've been thinking about that..." Tara started before Willow broke in eagerly.

"I don't think it's hopeless. I'm still trying..."

"Actually, Willow...what I've been thinking is that you've been trying to do this all on your own," Tara clarified softly. Willow could tell that there was something momentous on the human woman's mind, if anything because of the scarcely-masked anxiety in her eyes.

"Spike has been helping...in his own way," the redhead offered.

"Well...h-has his help h-helped?" Tara stammered uncertainly.

"Um...not always," Willow admitted, glancing away from the woman sitting beside her, "He doesn't see the point. Spike is convinced I'll eventually end up like any other vampire. He tells me I'm just playing the martyr."

"Maybe you need some other help," Tara suggested shyly, "That's why I came."

Willow looked back at her. A gentle breeze rustled through the courtyard, lifting and teasing strands of Tara's hair as she held Willow's gaze with a tentative smile. The young vampire had completely misread the situation, and for a moment she wasn't sure how to respond. Finally, she simply asked, "What do you mean?"

"I th-thought about what we've all expected of you. We wanted you to change for us, to give up everything we couldn't accept...but we left the question of how to do that up to you," Tara explained, "You're the one who m-made the effort to be what your friends wanted. I guess I realized that it was time for all of us...for me...to act more like a friend. You shouldn't have to do this all by yourself. So, I want to help."

"You....Tara, do you understand what you're...are you sure?" Willow could barely manage to squeak out the words. She was deeply moved by what her former lover seemed to be offering.

Tara nodded. "I can probably only offer once every other week or so. But Hannah and Cyrene are willing, too. Xander is even considering it."

"You're kidding! Xander?!" Willow nearly yelped, stunned at that last revelation.

"Yeah...well, he's still not sure. The only reason he's considering it is because it's you," Tara pointed out, "And we realize that even if we can...give you...our blood once a week, that alone won't be enough. But we hope it will help."

"And you all trust me enough to do this?" Willow whispered, her eyes fixed intently on those of the woman who faced her.

"Yes. In fact...I came tonight to see if you wanted to give it a try," Tara confessed, dropping her gaze and nibbling self-consciously on her bottom lip.

The small gesture entranced Willow, and she decided that the time for conversation was over. Reaching out to brush her palm gently against Tara's cheek, the slight redhead inched closer to her until her form was flush against Tara's. Grasping her warm, human hand in her own, Willow drew it up to her lips and placed a light kiss on the palm, reveling in the sensual thrum of blood flowing through living veins.

Leaning in toward Tara's neck, Willow let her mouth hover tantalizingly above the vulnerable flesh of her neck before whispering in her ear, "We can do this a number of different ways...How would you like it?"

Tara shivered at the seductive tone in Willow's voice and pulled back just enough to be able to look her in the eye. Slowly, the fair-haired mortal woman wrapped one arm around Willow's waist and brought the other up to the nape of her neck, gently drawing Willow's head toward her. They embraced each other, with an emotion somewhere in between friendship and passion, as Willow's demon features emerged and she sank her fangs into the tender, graceful column of Tara's neck. The young woman gasped and her pulse raced at the first sting of the bite, but the reassuring caress of Willow's hands on her back eventually helped her relax.

After several moments, Willow withdrew her fangs and bathed the twin puncture wounds tenderly with her tongue. When she was sure that the flow of blood had ceased, the redhead leaned back and released her first voluntary human donor. Cupping Tara's cheek lightly with one hand, Willow stroked her warm, living skin with her thumb and asked, "Was that okay?"

Although her nerves still tingled with residual fear from the experience, Tara nodded and struggled to put her feelings in words. "It wasn't quite what I expected. It h-hurt a little, and it was kind of sc-scary...but it felt so...so...intimate to be connected like that..."

Remembering something Angel had said to her, Willow softly affirmed Tara's description. "It can be of the most intimate acts vampires share with their lovers..."

The young vampire paused as she saw the strained look that crossed Tara's face, and concluded diplomatically, "...but it doesn't have to be. I appreciate what you're doing for me. If it would make it easier, I can minimize the sensuality of it. You'd barely feel it."

"It's not what you think," Tara assured her, even though the tightness of her voice signaled her own discomfort, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't still f-feel something for you. But...I'm not ready yet to pick up where we left off. And I know you've...you and Angel..and Spike..."

"It would be complicated," Willow finished for her, understanding. "And probably a greater adjustment for you to make in your life than you're prepared for right now."

"That's about it," Tara sighed with a shaky smile. Mortal and immortal regarded each other peacefully for a moment, and then drew together in a soft, lingering kiss that tasted of memories and hope, but without the urgency of passion. When they parted, Tara rose from the bench and said, "I should probably go."

"Do you have a place to stay?" Willow asked, reluctant to send her out into the night but not wanting to pressure her into staying.

"Hannah and Cyrene are putting me up," Tara confirmed as they walked back into the lobby from the courtyard and proceeded toward the main entryway.

"They're probably waiting to hear how this went, too. Am I right?" Willow guessed.

"Yeah, they are," Tara acknowledged, blushing slightly, "But they'd also like the four of us to meet soon to discuss forming the coven."

They came to a stop just before the doors, and Willow fell into a contemplative silence. At last she fixed a solemn gaze on Tara and declared, "We do need to talk. If they're ready, we could meet tomorrow. I've made some...decisions...and I think we should talk about them."

"Tomorrow, then..." Tara murmured.

"Tomorrow," Willow agreed as she watched Tara slip out of the hotel.

Left alone, the young vampire returned to Spike's room and decided to settle in for a very early night. She had some thinking to do. Although she had been hasty to reassure Tara that she was hopeful about her progress, out of fear that her friends had decided to write her off as a lost cause, the young vampire had slowly been approaching a decision about her situation. And this hadn't been the most auspicious setting in which to broach the subject with Tara. Hopefully, though, Willow would have the strength to explain her decision with the women who would join with her in a coven. And...to Angel...

Hell.

She would need a lot of sleep in order to be able to face him with what she planned to say.

*****

The evening was deceptively calm. Without any new cases to occupy his time and energy, Angel relaxed in his suite with a well-worn volume of Yeats. His childe and Willow had left for another night on the town.

Or so he thought.

The dark vampire registered Willow's presence when she returned to the hotel. After a few moments he looked up from his book as she entered the suite and moved fluidly to sit across from him on the couch.

"You're back early," Angel observed with a smile as he set the Irish poet's work aside.

"I'm meeting Tara and two other Wiccans here in about half an hour to talk about forming a coven..." Willow began slowly.

"A vampire in a coven?" Angel raised his eyebrows at the thought, "Is that actually done?"

"Ours would be the first," Willow acknowledged his surprise, "As far as I can tell, there aren't really any rules against it, but it's not common for Wiccans and vampires to associate with each other. But before they get here, there's something I need to tell you."

Angel tensed at the somber tone of her voice, and knew that she felt she was about to deliver bad news. Not quite sure what could render her mood so serious, he asked, "What is it?"

"I've been thinking..." Willow approached the topic delicately, "For weeks I've been working to find ways to survive without killing. And I pretty much think I'm capable of doing it, or at least I will be with more practice. But..."

The younger vampire trailed off, dreading to have to say it.

"But...?" Angel prompted her.

"But...I'm not sure I want to," she replied in a very small voice.

As her words fell on his ears, it seemed to Angel as though all things were suspended in that moment. Time slowed to a point that allowed the insignificant details of their surroundings to burn themselves into his brain, ensuring that this encounter would haunt his thoughts for decades. There was a minute blood stain on the arm of the couch. There was a hairline crack in the spine of his aging copy of Yeats. The faint aroma of cigarette smoke clung to Willow, a lingering memento of Spike's presence. The low hum of the refrigerator, normally a blind noise forgotten in the background, grated on Angel's ears. Willow's stark declaration had left his nerves raw and exposed to the assault of so many ordinary things.

In spite of this, however, Angel somehow managed to maintain a mask of composure on his face and betrayed none of his disappointment outwardly to his young protege. When he finally did speak, his voice was heavy with self-reproach.

"I shouldn't have pushed you away," the dark vampire murmured regretfully, "I didn't know it would drive you to this....I should have told you that night how much you mean to me, and explained why I--"

Alarmed, Willow lunged at him and clamped her hand down on his mouth, preventing him from completing the speech he had begun. "No!" she cried out fervently, "Angel, don't...please."

Her mentor stared back at her, startled into silence by her panicked outburst. When she withdrew her hand from his lips he merely sat and waited for her to explain.

"I didn't make this decision out of despair over the idea that no matter how hard I tried, or what I did, it wouldn't be enough to make you....love me. This isn't me giving up...I mean, yes...when I started out, I was doing it because I thought it would make you happy, that you'd be proud of me..."

"I *am* proud of you, Willow..." Angel insisted honestly.

"But I also thought it was the right thing for me, because of the feelings I would get after each kill...the memories of how much my old self was opposed to killing. And I've learned something from all of my efforts: I can go without killing, but there will be times when I need it, when I want it. And I'm not going to deny that...If I'm going to make peace with who I am and what I am, I can't force myself to fit into a particular mold by denying certain parts of who I am now, even if it doesn't match who I was before...."

Willow hesitated for a second before releasing a shaky laugh and evoking the memory of Angel's own confession from that profound, intimate night that had been their turning point. "There's really only one area in which I want to cling to denial. I couldn't bear it if you tried to convince me that you loved me right now...not like this. I'd never be able to escape the doubts...the thought that you might have said it just to persuade me not to kill. And I know it's wrong of me, but I still want to believe that someday you might...really mean it. Please let me dream. It hurts to think about what I can't have."

A lone tear brimmed over from Angel's eye and slipped down his cheek. With a sorrow much like that reserved for lovers about to part on separate journeys he reached out and stroked her cheek. In a strained, hushed whisper he countered, "No, Willow...it isn't wrong for you to want that. God, you have no idea...Your decision wouldn't have upset me this much if I didn't..."

Angel choked back his words, realizing that he had nearly said exactly what she had begged him not to say. After taking a few minutes to compose himself, he asked numbly, "Are you sure that this isn't just a stage in your development? You're still gaining your strength...couldn't it be that you feel the need to kill because it gives you that flush of power that simulates real strength for a few moments? Or...do you honestly enjoy it?"

"Honestly...I don't know. You're asking me to predict the future. Will my desire to kill fade once I'm stronger? I can't say...and I can't dwell on what might come any more than I can on what might have been. All I know is that right *now* I'm happy to minimize my lethal feedings, but there may just be times when I *want* to kill...to feel the ebb and flow of life extinguish itself on my lips..." Willow answered calmly.

"That sounds like Spike talking," Angel muttered disparagingly.

"I speak for myself. You should know that by now," Willow chided him gently. "Spike has no idea that I've come to this decision. He's still sulking over the impression that the only thing that matters to me is pleasing you. Apparently, each of you thinks that my mind is easily swayed by the other."

"I didn't mean it like that, Willow...I'm sorry," Angel sighed in frustration, "I guess it just doesn't make sense to me. One night, you're saving lives by taking two women to the ER, and the next you're here, explaining that you don't *want* to give up killing. One of the first things you told me when you arrived here was that you had disturbing feelings after each kill...that with every life you took, you were reminded of how much your human self had abhorred killing. I can't understand what has happened to change that."

"This is going to sound strange, but I think it was the very process of trying to go without killing that did it," Willow offered thoughtfully, "I thought I would be at peace with myself...that if I stopped doing something that violated the memories of my former self that I would finally be able to accept my situation. I thought it would be the way to achieve some kind of balance, or find a compromise...But as time passed, and I felt what it was like to go without the savor of death, it still didn't bring me the peace I'd hoped for. And that was when I realized that completely denying my demon instincts wasn't a solution, any more than trying to suppress my human memories and simply giving myself over to the bloodlust would be a solution."

Angel was silent as he reflected on Willow's explanation. To hear her calmly state that she had decided that killing was an integral part of her was disturbing, to say the least. It no longer allowed him the comfort of believing that he was helping her in honor of the compassionate human she had once been. She became like any other vampire...and he would just as soon stake most other vampires.

Or would he?

After all, Spike was far worse than Willow...but, then, Angel enjoyed the renewed connection with his wayward childe. What the hell was happening to his principles?! It used to be so clear, so straightforward....

And perhaps that was what really bothered him.

It wasn't Willow's decision itself so much as the fact that he couldn't stop caring about her in spite of it. Couldn't stop...loving her...even as she seemed prepared to accept a side of herself that Angel had been so intent on subduing.

"The hardest part is letting go..." Angel whispered at last, more to himself than to Willow. His words were so faint that even with her heightened sense of hearing, she was unable to discern what he had said.

"What did you say?" Willow asked.

"Nothing," Angel shook himself out of his morose contemplations at last, "Willow...as much as I have a hard time accepting it, I know that this is still your decision to make. I can't...I won't force you to change. But I hope you'll understand if I keep trying."

"I'd consider it one of the signs of the Apocalypse if you didn't," Willow teased him affectionately, earning a wry grin from her mentor.

As she smiled back at Angel, Willow sensed the arrival of her Wiccan friends. Leaning in to place a soft, melancholy kiss on his lips, she pulled away after a few moments and withdrew to seek out the humans who had just arrived, leaving Angel to mull over his reaction to everything she had said.

Hefting the volume of Yeats in his hand, he thumbed absently through the pages until the words he sought lay beneath his mesmerized gaze:

'I sigh that kiss you,
For I must own
That I shall miss you
When you have grown.'

*****

Four Wiccans, three human and one vampire, sat in the courtyard of the old hotel and formed a circle with their joined hands. On the smooth tile in between them rested a simple clay goblet filled with red wine. Hiding no secrets, harboring no shame, they welcomed each other in open communion as the first step toward forming their coven.

Knowing that she couldn't hide the truth from those whom she soon hoped to call blood sisters, Willow had explained her reluctance to refrain from killing absolutely in the same calm manner with which she had broken the news to Angel. After Buffy's visit, they had learned that she killed. Now, she needed to tell them that despite her recent experiments in non-lethal feeding, she might not ever give up killing.

Brief, mild surprise had been quickly replaced by awkward, knowing glances between the three women, as they absorbed the reality presented by Willow's confession. She had left the choice open to them, understanding that they could easily decide against forming a coven with her. Better to have this out than to invite disaster by entering into communion under false pretenses. Willow had read the stories of such ill-fated attempts, and the miserable fates that had befallen the fools who had believed they could get away with deception.

It was Cyrene who spoke. The tall, dark-haired woman was the most self-assured of her abilities out of the three humans, and seemed to feel the strongest connection to the natural magick that she worked. Her deep, sable eyes glowed with a compelling serenity as she said, "Willow...we accept you. Will you accept us, and all that we can offer?"

"What?" Willow stammered, caught off guard by the odd response.

"Life and death are part of the eternal cycle. Predators kill to survive. While it is true that vampires do more than kill to survive -- they enjoy it -- there's something different about you. You resist the urge to harm, you take no joy in it. Even now, as you tell us that you will continue to kill, it isn't out of malice. Bloodlust, yes... But not viciousness. You seek your own balance. We accept that all things find their own balance, and invite you to forge this balance with us and through us," came Cyrene's gentle reply.

Willow continued to gawk at her three human companions, her eyebrows arched and her jaw slacked open in disbelief. A rather unusual look for a vampire, but somehow it was all she could muster. Finally, she laughed shakily and mused, "That definitely wasn't anywhere near what I expected you to say...But I still don't understand what you mean by finding balance. Angel offered me the same thing, so how will this be any different?"

Hannah giggled. Most of the time she was flightier than her partner, but those who mistook her light-hearted spunk for the vapidity of a 'dumb blonde' very quickly discovered the quick wit and sharp tongue behind the laughing eyes. With a sly grin she asked, "How well does a table with two legs balance?"

"Is this one of those Zen riddles about one hand clapping?" Willow countered dubiously.

"No," Hannah replied as the moonlight danced in her hazel eyes, "It's just that what Angel offered you could never amount to balance. Not when it would be just the two of you. True balance calls for strength in numbers."

"You need to emerge on your own," Cyrene agreed, "If you only have one person committed to supporting you, the line between helping you find your balance, and trying to push you in a specific direction, gets really blurry. It's hard for anyone to resist the temptation to push you to do what *they* think is in your best interest, rather than letting you find that out by yourself. But when you can count on several people for support, no one voice can dominate, and the balance resolves itself."

"And this support involves....?" Willow prodded curiously.

Tara squeezed her hand gently, her gesture a shy reminder that throughout the entire discussion they had all kept their hands joined together. "It could be as simple as this joining of hands. Or, if you agree to enter into the coven with us, and if we share our blood as sisters, we'll become a presence in your life."

"Always there, even if only in the background. Guides along the path if you need us, but more a reminder that you're connected to the world around you..." Cyrene added.

"...and not just a killing machine with no concern for the consequences of her actions," Willow concluded, beginning to understand what her companions were proposing, "So...you see joining with me, even if I choose to kill, as less harmful ultimately than trying to force me to stop killing, don't you?"

Hannah nodded, and explained, "So much violence has been caused in this world because those with differing views convince themselves that they have to shun each other, force each other to change, or destroy each other. We've offered you a challenge: we know you kill, and you know that we disapprove of willfully causing harm. Can you still be with us under these conditions? The issue will always be before us, in the open, rather than avoided and forgotten."

A half-smile tugged at Willow's lips and she shook her head somewhat incredulously. "I still don't quite get this...but yes, I do want in on the coven."

Hannah beamed back at her with a warmth that reminded Willow of the sunlight that she could never see again. Tara graced her with a welcoming smile, while Cyrene reached for the goblet at the center of their circle and said, "Then let us join."

The dark-haired Wiccan withdrew a Leatherman camping knife from a hip sack that rested just outside their circle and pricked her index finger with it. Holding her wounded digit over the goblet, Cyrene allowed her blood to mingle with the wine.

"No fancy, ceremonial dagger?" Willow asked, raising her eyebrows.

Cyrene shrugged and passed the goblet to her vampire companion with a grin. "Guess I go for practicality. You can't beat a Leatherman."

Willow morphed into her demon face and winked back at Cyrene. Raising her wrist toward her fangs, she replied, "Practicality works for me, too." She bit her wrist and let a stream of her blood flow into the goblet before handing it to Tara.

Cyrene was about to pass the knife across to the sandy-haired Wiccan when Tara shook her head and, with a look of open acceptance, extended her wrist to Willow. The redheaded vampire kissed her warm, translucent skin with reverence before piercing it with her fangs to release a red stream into the goblet. After it had been passed to Hannah, who also opted to allow Willow do the honors for her rather than use a knife, all four of them wrapped their hands around the stem of the goblet. As their fingers overlapped and entwined with each other, they chanted a binding spell and then each took a drink of their combined blood.

It was a simple ritual, but Willow felt the change immediately. It was more than just feeling a connection to the three living, breathing humans who sat with her. She sensed that something else had awakened in her...a connection to...well, to what, she wasn't quite sure.

Tara saw the curious expression on Willow's face and guessed what she was experiencing. "You feel it, don't you?"

"I feel something..." Willow agreed, still delighting in the tingling sensation that danced along her skin.

"You opened this connection in life, when you first began to practice the art," Cyrene explained, "This link to the natural order, to all that surrounds us, is the source of a Wiccan's strength. You didn't lose it when you were turned, but your senses haven't been as attuned to it. The bloodlust of the demon can make it hard for you to be aware of other, more subtle forms of power."

Willow nodded, understanding. "It *is* kind of like the flush after a kill...I didn't think anything else could feel this good."

"Someone's obviously never been up close and personal with an orgasm," Hannah teased impishly in a loud stage whisper. The courtyard echoed with laughter as the four Wiccans relaxed in the joy of their newly-formed connection.

"I have too had orgasms, just ask Tara!" Willow protested vehemently, grinning as she saw the blush spread across her former lover's cheeks.

"And if Tara doesn't feel like sharing?" Tara murmured with quiet amusement.

Cyrene chuckled as she rose to her feet. "Remember, sisters, nothing happens against our will while in the circle."

Hannah stood as well, knowing that it was time for them to leave. Playfully, she observed, "Circle's broken now. I want details."

"Hmmm...but *which* details?" Willow taunted right back, "Should I tell you exactly how many different erogenous zones Spike can stimulate with his fangs? Or there's this trick that Angel can do with a---"

"My goodness, look at the time!" Hannah interrupted her with a loud, clichéd phrase, enjoying her banter with the redhead but not quite ready to learn the specifics of vampire sex play.

A wicked grin spread across Willow's face. Round one to her...

Hannah and Tara both gave Willow an affectionate squeeze before making their way toward the hotel's entrance. Cyrene held back and, with a reassuring smile, said to Willow, "Your web of support extends far. If you want to bring them into our circle, there is a way to do it."

"What...Angel and Spike in a coven?" came Willow's astonished reply.

Cyrene shook her head. "No, they practice no magick, so they couldn't enter into a coven. But they're an important influence for you...there is a spell that could bring all of us together, rather than leaving your sources of support fragmented. Take some time to consider it, and if you're interested, I'll tell you more about it."

Willow nodded and watched as the dark-haired Wiccan left the hotel. She stood in the middle of the lobby for several minutes, simply enjoying the sense of peace that lingered with her. For the first time since she had been turned, she felt the thrill of potential, as though she had choices. It was delirious.

Her sire had made her less than a minion, and left her to the nonexistent mercy of the vampire hierarchy.

Now....she was free to make herself what she wished to be.

*****

"Do I get to shag any of them?"

"Spike!"

"Oh, come on, luv...there have to be a few perks to this arrangement. At least I can nibble on them a little, right?" the blonde vampire insisted with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

"Never without their permission," Willow rebuked him sternly, "They're doing this of their own free will to help me. I won't have you violating that trust."

"You're just selfish, that's what it is," Spike sulked at her, "Three lovely, willing necks all to yourself and you can't be bothered to share."

"Well, they tell me that Xander might be interested, too...Maybe I'll let you have the first crack at him," Willow purred coyly.

"The git?!! Not bloody likely!" Spike snapped in disgust as he scowled at Willow and rose up from the lounge where they had been sitting together in the lobby, waiting for Willow's coven to arrive.

Willow giggled, enjoying her blonde companion's outbursts as she always did. "Relax, Spike...I don't understand what you're complaining about anyway. You've had plenty of willing necks of your own. After all, you're the one who tracked down those sixteen year-old virgins we saw and taught them all about what goes bump in the night."

"Damn straight," Spike chuckled, even as he continued pacing impatiently, "So what's taking your chits so long to get here, anyway? I thought we had a bloody ritual to perform."

"They'll be here. What's your hurry? Places to go, people to kill or something?" Willow chided him.

"Just not too keen on witchcraft, I guess," Spike shrugged indifferently, "Every time I've been involved in a spell recently, seems I've ended up small and furry. Don't much care for that."

"You're nervous..." Willow teased him.

"Am not, you little brat," the blonde vampire grumbled at her crossly.

Willow pushed herself up off the plush, red lounge and approached Spike. She suspected that it wasn't the witchcraft itself that bothered him, since he had one of her spells to thank for freeing him from the Initiative's microchip. However...a binding ritual...Willow could easily see how that could bother a cocky master vampire who prided himself on not being tied down to anyone, on not needing anyone. Placing her hands lightly on his arms, which were stubbornly folded across his chest, she leaned up and brushed a soft kiss over his lips.

"Thank you, Spike. This means a lot to me."

The tension in his frame eased somewhat and his gaze softened. Letting his hands fall to her hips, Spike drew her body flush against his and captured her mouth in a hungry, lingering kiss. Pulling away slightly, his eyes fixed her with passion as he murmured, "You....mean a lot to me."

Spike brought his mouth to hers again and proceeded to devour her slowly, relishing the feel of her. He still wasn't sure he liked the idea of this spell. After ridding himself of that sodding chip, he was deeply suspicious of anything that might even remotely restrain him or hold his demon in check. But for Willow, he was willing to give it a try. He had almost resigned himself to the fact that she was determined to take after his sire and give up killing. And then she had told him of her latest decision. Cor, how he burned for her when he heard her say that she enjoyed the hunt...reveled in the flush of the kill...and no longer intended to deny herself those feelings. She was so bloody beautiful on the hunt.

Besides...although he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was deeply touched that he mattered enough to her that she wanted to include him in this spell. Him. Not just his sire. It wasn't that he didn't love his sire. Loved the bastard so much it hurt sometimes. But he hated living in that shadow...whether it was cast by Angel or Angelus. Now, he wouldn't have to settle for being second...she wanted them both. And that was quite all right with him.

"Ahem...."

Even without the throat-clearing, Willow and Spike sensed Angel's entry into the lobby and disengaged themselves from their sensual embrace.

The dark vampire raised his eyebrows innocently as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips and said, "Tara just called. They're on their way over, and asked if Willow would start getting things ready."

"Killjoy..." Spike muttered, giving Willow one last squeeze before she pulled away and headed out to the courtyard to begin setting out the necessary materials.

Within fifteen minutes Cyrene, Hannah and Tara arrived and, after greeting the two elder vampires, went to help Willow. Angel and Spike looked on as the four Wiccans lit bundles of sage in censers placed throughout the courtyard. The smoke was rich and soothing. Willow then proceeded to wind several lengths of silk thread around her hand, while Hannah, Cyrene and Tara sprinkled salt on the rough tiles of the patio. First they established a large circle, then they inscribed within it a five-pointed star, forming a pentagram.

Both vampires were intrigued by the ritual, feeling they were watching a mystery unfold, despite the fact that Willow had explained everything to them fully before asking if they were willing to participate. For Angel and Spike, all that had mattered was Willow's admission that the spell which promised to help her wouldn't work without them. She had instructed them in a few phrases they would need to say at the proper time, and said that they would be bound together as elements that gave balance to her being.

With a soft, hopeful smile Willow led Angel to the point at the top of the pentagram and explained that he represented quintessence -- the fifth element, or spirit, symbolized by his soul. She then guided Spike to the point immediately to Angel's left -- the place for fire. Willow's three Wiccan companions knew their places already, and moved to assume their stations accordingly. Hannah to Angel's right, for air; Cyrene to Spike's left, for water; and Tara between Hannah and Cyrene, for earth.

Willow took her place in the center of the pentagram and initiated the ritual with a brief incantation of thanks to the cycles of Nature for the five friends who were willing to stand with her.

Then, taking one end of the silk thread she had wrapped around her hand, she gave it to Angel as she and the other three Wiccans began murmuring the words of the spell in Latin. Moving back to the center of the pentagram, Willow wrapped the thread around the wrist of her free hand once before extending a further length of thread to Cyrene, wrapping more slack around her own wrist, and repeating the entire process through Hannah, then Spike, then Tara, and back to Angel. When she had finished, all six of them were joined by the same thread, which passed through Willow at the center of the circle.

At last it was time to conclude the ritual. Willow proceeded softly yet clearly:

"The way is balance and harmony. With the Fates I weave a tapestry..."

In unison, Tara, Cyrene and Hannah invoked the Fates by name to infuse the spell with their power. "Clotho...Lachesis...Atropos..."

"...that accepts all elements of my being," Willow concluded.

She looked to Angel, and he recognized his cue to speak:

"The good in all of us, and beyond all of us."

"The love of the journey," Cyrene continued.

"The desire to know," murmured Hannah.

"The fire that burns for the darkness," Spike added.

"Growth and change," Tara concluded.

"As a tapestry is only made whole through the joining of threads, so is my being not mine alone, but anchored by you who stand with me," Willow voiced the words that completed the ritual.

No dramatic physical manifestation accompanied her final words, but the six participants noticed a brief heightening of their senses. The scent of jasmine in the courtyard seemed fresher, the breeze stronger, and the black of night even darker, but only for a moment. And then the moment was gone, and the spell was finished.

They all glanced at each other with the slightly amused, uncertain looks of people who weren't quite sure what to do next. Willow shrugged and said, "Thanks guys..."

"So how the bloody hell do we get out of this tangle?" Spike gestured to the threads that still linked them all in an intricate web. His impatience provoked easy laughter among the group, and Willow began unraveling them.

When Willow had extricated everyone from the web, Hannah moved over to a bag she had brought in with her, pulled out a bottle of wine and announced, "Now that we've all been linked as part of Willow's Web of Life...or Unlife...whatever...I think it would be a good idea for us all to get to know each other better. What do you say, folks?"

"If you mean we all get drunk and shag, I'm up for it," Spike quipped lewdly.

Without missing a beat, Cyrene smiled and countered evenly, "Sure, we can have a real, old-fashioned bacchanale. Of course, the festivities usually ended with the Maenads ripping apart the males with their bare hands, but I don't mind getting mine a little dirty."

Tara giggled as Spike scowled at Cyrene and muttered, "Just what the world needs, a bloody smart-assed witch."

Willow wrapped her arms around him playfully and purred, "Don't spoil the fun. We'll all get drunk, swap truly embarrassing and overly-personal information about ourselves, and then *I'll* shag you."

Instantly, Spike's face lit up and he beamed at Hannah, who had just extracted the cork from the wine bottle and was in the process of pouring the first glass. "Give us a drink, luv, and tell me all about yourself..."

Hannah grinned and passed him a glass brimming with Merlot. Soon, everyone was enjoying the vintage, along with the conversation, and one open bottle eventually became two...then three. At one point Spike demanded that Angel "spice up" his wine, whereupon Angel let his demon face emerge, bit into his wrist and sprinkled his blood liberally into Spike's and Willow's glasses. The two younger vampires moaned as they savored the heady blend, piquing Hannah's curiosity. She plopped down next to Spike and pestered him for a taste. Angel moved next to Cyrene and the two of them began to compare notes on their travels to France -- she to visit a Druid in Brittany two years previously, he at various times in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

Willow reclined against Tara, who was leaning next to one of the stucco arches in the arcade, as the vampire watched the interaction between her coven sisters and the two vampires who mattered more to her than anyone in the world.

And she smiled.

They had stood up for her in the Pit, at considerable risk to their own survival. Yet although it wasn't as dramatic, their willingness to participate in something so simple, so mild as this ritual almost meant more to Willow. Perhaps it was because this represented more than simply a desire to protect her...it was a true acceptance of her, as she was. Wiccan and demon. Light and dark.

*****

Hours later Cyrene, Hannah and Tara bade the vampires good-night and returned home with promises to visit in another few weeks. Spike was rather pleased that he had managed to coax Hannah to let him drink from her, and lost no opportunity to bombard her with filthy innuendoes about what they could do at their next meeting. Cyrene merely wrapped her arm around Hannah's waist and met Spike's scowl with a smug grin as she escorted her lover out of the lobby. The blonde vampire's mood quickly brightened, however, and he dragged Willow off to his room, reminding her of her earlier promise about shagging.

And so it was that Willow didn't see Angel again until the following evening. She found him up on the roof, staring out at the shimmering lights of the city.

"Hey," Willow greeted him.

"Hey...What brings you up here?" Angel smiled back at her.

"You...of course, if you wanted to be alone...." Willow answered, hoping that she hadn't disturbed a particularly broody moment.

"Not at all," Angel mused thoughtfully, "If these months with you and my childe have taught me anything, it's that being alone isn't all it's cracked up to be..."

"Well, when was it ever cracked up to be anything?" Willow teased in reply.

Angel smiled again as he looked out over the rooftops, but said nothing. Willow wondered what was on his mind, but was content merely to stand beside him and watch the night traffic flow through the streets until her companion was ready to speak.

At last, the dark vampire said, "Having a soul...being tapped by the Powers to fight evil...I guess it made it easy for me to see the world in black and white, and cut myself off from anything that could remind me that I'm a demon. And it was just as easy to extend that to you...to think that I could make you fit into a niche that wouldn't challenge my comfortable ideas about good and evil. But when you told me that you didn't plan to give up killing, I realized that I can't simply retreat into my role as righteous crusader and cut myself off from you. You're a part of me...But what I've been struggling to accept is that this doesn't mean I can change you. It means that I might have to change some of my *own* ideas, and I think that's what scares me. It's hard to know how to reconcile my calling to oppose evil with caring for you, killing and all."

Reaching down to grasp Willow's hand in his own, Angel gently raised it to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across her skin. A low, simmering passion flickered in his eyes as he whispered, "But that's the real challenge....The hardest part of love is letting go."

Willow trembled as she stared into the depths of his brown eyes, unsure that she had truly heard what she had heard. "The hardest part of....?"

"Love," Angel confirmed, smiling gently at the flustered redhead who stood so close to him.

"But...but Buffy..." Willow stammered uncertainly.

"...will always hold a very special place in my heart. I won't lie to you, Willow...Part of me has never stopped loving Buffy, and probably never will. But you have claimed your own place in my heart," Angel confessed, bringing his hand up to stroke her cheek, "I didn't want to face this, because I can't...we couldn't...."

Willow nodded forlornly, and dropped her gaze downward. "The curse."

Angel lifted her chin up until her eyes met his. "But you deserved to hear me say it."

They came together slowly until their lips joined in a gentle, almost innocent kiss. When they parted, Willow smiled and murmured, "Thank you, Angel."

The two vampires held each other in a loose embrace and simply let themselves enjoy the feel of the night that surrounded them. Willow rested her head against Angel's chest for several moments before speaking again.

"Angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Sometimes....I miss the sun. Do you ever--?"

"Never when I was Angelus. But since I regained my soul...."

He squeezed her lightly in his arms.

"...every day..."

~Fin~

Continue to 'Dies Irae'