Title: You Forgot To Mention Hell, Horatio
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Status: Complete
Warnings: Nope. Not this time.
Category: Crossover with Highlander
Disclaimer: All other characters belong to their respective owners and are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
This is what happens when you get involved with too many different fandoms.
Universe setting: For you Highlander fans, this story takes place sometime after ‘Archangel’ (sorry to all those Richie Forever people). Please forgive me for playing with the timelines of the shows, but hey, it’s fan-fic and I can do that ;-)
Thanks: As always, to Carrie, and to Marius, the oak and the ash to my birds in the forest.

“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Hamlet, Act I, Scene 5


It was a rather slow night in Sunnydale -- slow for a town situated over a Hellmouth, at any rate. Between the closing of the Bronze for its semi-annual fumigation and a wondrous void of world-threatening prophecies, the group known as the ‘Slayerettes’ was enjoying a quiet, peaceful evening at Sunnydale High’s library.

‘And Xander with pizza, Oz in his chains, and Cordelia off pouting, nothing has changed. Giles doing research, Buffy no longer patrols; while Angel is happy with his reattached soul.’ Willow ad-libbed to herself with a hidden grin while glancing up from her computer. Of course, her father would be furious to hear his beloved (and Jewish) daughter improvising on a Christmas poem; but then again, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, Willow surmized.

As she waited for the modem to connect, Willow found her gaze wandering around the assembled group.

They were all keeping themselves busy until Cordelia finished eating dinner with her parents. Once she joined them at the library, they were all -- with the exception of the librarian and the werewolf -- planning on heading out for a movie or something to alliviate their boredom. Until Cordy came back, though, there was little else to be done.

Giles, being the consummate Watcher/librarian that he was, was busy cataloguing a new set of dusty tomes sent over by the Watcher council. For his part, Xander was doing his best to attack the pizza supreme that rested on the table before him. Being the second night of his ‘time of the month’, Oz was in his full-blown werewolf mode, and therefore chained to the wall of the caged weapon storage locker. And Angel... well, Angel was just being Angel.

Willow’s roving green eye involuntarily rested for a moment on the vampire. His being there, of all places, was a sight that she never really expected to see again. Just a few days ago, she would have considered the thought of Angel being back in the library of his own free will just a pipe dream. But then again, she’d seen stranger things over the course of the past two years.

Hellmouths were funny that way.

How else could one account for a vampire with a soul becoming the boyfriend of the chosen vampire slayer? Who’da thunk it? But there was certainly more to Angel than met the eye.

Over the past year, the young red-head had come to privately consider the two and a half century old vampire a friend. Well, not exactly the ‘best bud’ type, but Angel was certainly more than just an acquaintance. He had been, in his own way, doing his best to aid Buffy in the fight against the forces of evil that were all-too-prevalent in Sunnydale. Time and time again he’d risked his life. Not just for Buffy, either; but for all of them at one point or another -- including Willow.

On the other hand, though, he’d also tried to kill them all just a few short months ago.

An unexpected shudder coursed through the Willow’s petite frame as the memory of Angel’s hands locking around her neck crept up on her with amazing clarity...

‘Stop it!’ Willow’s inner voice screamed. ‘That was Angelus, not Angel! Angel is the one that *saved* your life from that crazy Watcher, Mrs. Post, two weeks ago. He’s the one who’s always treated you with kindness and respect!’

It was that last thought that made all the difference to Willow. From time to time, it felt like everyone else had taken advantage of her giving nature, either with or without malicious intent. Even Oz, as sweet and well-mannered as he was, was guilty of it; not that Willow ever said anything about it. Being pushy and confrontational about such trivial things was simply not in her nature. It was more Cordelia’s style.

Then again, Willow Rosenburg was cut from a much different cloth than Cordelia Chase.

‘Yeah,’ she thought sadly. ‘Cordelia is made of spandex while I’m just sturdy old, plain, dependable cotton.’

As if sensing her negative thoughts, Angel glanced up at her from the book he’d been pretending to read for the past half hour. As soon as his rich brown eyes met hers, Willow felt a moment of instant panic. It took every bit of her considerable mental discipline to keep her eyes from darting away from the vampire’s.

There was *something* about the way Angel looked at people. From the first time that she’d seen him from across the room at the Bronze, Willow had some unexplainable feeling that the vampire could ‘see’ right into her inner-most thoughts and emotions with a simple, penetrating gaze. This time was no different.

Every now and then, the other Slayerettes would make a comment that Angel was ‘hard to read.’ One instance that came immediately to her mind was the time that Xander went off on one of his little tears, doing his impersonation of Angel’s various emotional states. “This is Angel happy...this is Angel sad...this is Angel being stabbed repeatedly in the leg...” All the while, Xander had kept the same, stoic-yet-tortured expression on his face. Cordelia and Buffy had busted out laughing. Even Giles grinned for a nanosecond before catching himself. Willow was the only one who didn’t get the joke.

Angel was many things, but an automaton was not one of them. He laughed and cried; worried and cared; and in the end, he wore his heart on his sleeve just as plainly as any of the rest of them. Even when he did try to conceal his emotions behind a mask of indifference, one needed only to look carefully to see exactly what he was trying to hide.

As Willow’s thoughts came full circle, her attention returned to the present. Her green eyes were locked on Angel’s as if hypnotized. Comfort, trust, and just a touch of concern were all clearly visible in the warm pools of brown.

It took a moment for Willow to realize that something had changed -- that normally imperceivable laugh lines had suddenly appeared at the corners of Angel’s eyes. Her gaze drifted lower, coming to rest on a sight that she didn’t see nearly enough: Angel’s mouth curved into the smallest of smiles. Too shocked to do anything else, Willow could only grin at him in return, happy in the knowledge that she had been blessed by such a rare event.

The moment, however, was broken by an electronic ‘ping’ from the computer announcing that Willow’s last attempt to go on-line had been successful. With a last glance at Angel, the young red-head’s attention returned to the monitor in front of her.

She was busy checking through her e-mail when Giles’ voice broke the silence that had descended over the library.

“It’s almost ten. Would someone care to see to Oz’s dinner?”

Engrossed by something on the screen, Willow only heard the sound of Giles’ voice, not the words he spoke. Angel was preparing to stand up when Xander suddenly beat him to it.

“I’ll get it, Dead Boy.” Xander said harshly. From day one, there had always been a great deal of animosity between the vampire and high school student.

From her seat at the computer, Willow observed the brief look of irritation that marred Angel’s features, before it was carefully concealed under his normal mask of indifference. Sighing deeply, she wondered how Angel managed to keep all of his emotions so skillfully hidden -- at least from everybody else but her.

Maybe, if she asked nicely, he might teach her how it was done.

Not seeing anything of interest in her e-mail, Willow decided to kill some time in the chat rooms. Pulling up one of her personal favourites, she quickly lost herself in the lively bouillabaisse of anonymous conversation.

About a half an hour had passed before Willow’s voice finally broke through the tomb-like silence of the library.

“Hey Giles? Have you ever heard of a demon called ‘Ahriman’?” Willow’s innocent question drew the attention of everybody in the room, not just the Watcher.

“Ahriman?” Giles queried as he made his way over to the computer. “The names sounds remotely familiar, but I’m afraid I can’t recall any specific information. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Willow began. “There’s this new guy in the demonology chat room. He’s asking if anybody’s ever heard of this ‘Ahriman,’ and he says that it’s really important.”

“I sup...pose we can do some research...” Giles started, only to be interrupted by an overly happy voice.

“Cool! Something to do!” Xander hopped up out of his chair, only to stop dead in his tracks. Whirling around, he threw a sudden question in the air. “Did I just get *happy* about doing research? Oh man, I gotta get a life.”

While Giles directed Xander’s search into the stacks, Willow’s fingers flew over the keyboard. Curious as to what exactly she was doing, Angel made his way over to the computer. Pulling up a chair, he sat down off to her side, carefully observing what was happening on the monitor -- despite the fact that he hadn’t a clue as to what she was doing.

Finally, the vampire’s curiosity got the best of him. “What exactly is all this?”

“This? This is the demonology chat room.” Willow explained as she continued to type furiously.

“Chat room?”

“Chat room. You know, where people...” her voice trailed off as realization hit her. “You...probably don’t have that much experience with computers, do you?”

“Not...” Angel began, only to be interrupted by Willow’s steady stream of words.

“No. I guess not, you being old...er and all. I mean, look at Giles. He’s only a fraction of your age, and he can’t stand to be around them, which really is a shame since cataloguing all these books on the computer would really be a big help when it comes to doing research.”

As Willow’s diatribe came to an end, so did her train of thought. Embarrassed by her ramblings, she reluctantly raised her eyes to Angel’s, only to find a fond, amused expression on his face. Relieved that he hadn’t been offended by her comments on his age, the young red head let out a small sigh of relief before returning to the matter at hand.

The sounds of pages turning underscored the impromptu lesson on the finer points of IRC chatting. Used to teaching bored high school students, Willow did her best to keep her explanations from becoming too dry or technical. In the end, she was both surprised and delighted at how quickly the vampire absorbed the information.

“Hexster, Possessed, Demons-R-Us; where do they come up with these names?” Angel asked as he perused the list.

“It depends. I usually log on as ‘Sabrina,’ because of the whole witch-thing.” Willow answered.

“Sabrina?”

“TV show? Teen-aged...nevermind. I’ll tell you later.” From time to time, Willow actually forgot that the person sitting next to her pre-dated television by almost two centuries.

“So, which one of these people was asking about Ahriman?”

“This one,” Willow answered, highlighting the name in question with the cursor. “ROGue.”

Studying the name, Angel asked the obvious question. “Do you know anything more about this person?”

Seeing the wisdom in Angel’s caution, Willow clicked the ‘Who is...?’ function. “That’s weird...”

“What?” Angel asked, concern evident in his tone of voice.

“Well, I asked the computer to supply me with some more information on Rogue, but it’s saying that no additional information is available. Wait a sec...” Before the words had even passed Willow’s lips, her fingers were typing at a dizzying speed.

Using every trick she could think of, she attempted to coax the computer into providing either a name or location for the person chatting as ‘Rogue’; only to be stymied each time.

“Whoever this is, they’re good.” Willow muttered under her breath.

“What do you mean?” Angel queried.

“I mean, I can’t get a fix on who or where this person is.” Frustrated, Willow’s keystrokes were slowly becoming more violent. She was fast running out of ideas when Giles spoke.

“I think I’ve found something.”




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