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.

‘Oh God. What am I doing here?’ Willow thought frantically.

In all actuality, she didn’t really *plan* to come to this place. Her only thought when school let out for the day had been to go home and grab a much-needed nap before going back to the library at sunset. Stopping by her locker to drop off her extraneous textbooks, Willow left the high school without even saying good-bye to Xander.

Walking at an easy pace, Willow decided to take one of the more scenic routes to her house. Perhaps, her subconscious was already considering this alternate destination, as this particular way happened to cross Brackton Boulevard. As it so happened, that particular street led directly to Sunnydale’s warehouse district.

So caught up in her thoughts of what lay ahead later that evening, Willow just vaguely remembered the moment her feet decided to alter their course from her original destination. In fact, it was only when she caught sight of the massive forest-green door that she realized where she was. Now that she was there, though, Willow found herself in a quandary.

It wasn’t as if this were the first time she’d gone there unannounced and unexpected. Most of the time, she was greeted with a warm welcome and invited to stay as long as she chose to be there. Every now and then, however, she would be firmly, but politely, turned away without much of an explanation.

‘I should have called first,’ Willow admonished herself. ‘I’ll just go now, and no one will ever know I was even here. But...I really want to see him.’

Usually, Willow either called ahead, or at least knocked first to await permission to come inside the building. Since she hadn’t bothered to phone, Willow followed the established agreement and rapped somewhat quietly on the metal door.

When the seconds of silence that followed continued to stretch on, Willow began to grow concerned. Usually, the door would be opened before she had time to draw her hand back. Worried, the teenager knocked again, more loudly this time, only to be met with same quiet response.

‘What if something’s happened to him? He was so tired last night. What if he went back to the cemetery after we dropped him off? Wouldn’t that be just like him; not even following his own advice? What if he went back and got hurt? Or dragged off? Oh God! What if they took him down into the tunnels? Ew, rats! We’re going to have to dissect one of those next month in Biology. I wonder if they have flies and stuff in their stomachs like the frogs did last week? I hate frogs. I don’t know how Buffy could stand them that time. Hey, maybe he’s heard something about Buffy. Maybe he left to go after her. Or maybe he’s inside, really hurt and couldn’t get to a phone...’

Although her train of thought often meandered, the swiftness with which it flowed was astounding. A sweeping sense of panic overwhelmed Willow as her mind focused in on that last train of thought. Images of her friend, wounded and bleeding, consumed her.

Terrified as to what might be happening behind the locked door in front of her, Willow reached into her backpack with a trembling hand. After a few moments of hunting around, her hand emerged with a shiny, metal key. Having never been used before, it was as pristine as the day the owner of the lock had handed it to her. ‘Just in case’ he’d insisted without elaborating further. The exact meaning of ‘just in case’ had kept her wondering for days afterwards, yet she never found the courage to ask for any kind of clarification. Instead, she followed the rules of convention on visiting someone else’s home.

At least, until now.

With her fear overriding her sense of propriety, Willow stepped forward to insert the key into the lock. Nervousness made her hand unsteady, causing her to miss the keyhole twice before she heard the sound of metal sliding against metal. Twisting the key savagely, the mechanism slid back with a satisfying click.

As soon as she opened the door itself, Willow launched herself into the apartment. Green eyes swept the spacious main room as her body continued forward at a dead run. Since she hadn’t expected to find him in the outer room anyway, Willow moved towards the open stairway without so much as slowing down.

Designed by the previous owner, the warehouse was somewhat atypical to most of its kind. Instead of one huge, open space, large sheets of drywall had been installed to cordon off the kitchen and bathroom. A banisterless staircase with wide, shallow steps led up to the ‘second’ floor. It was styled similarly to a loft -- an open-ended bedroom that looked out over the living area below.

In keeping with the current owner’s preference for simple, yet elegant, surroundings, the bedroom contained only two pieces of dark-wood furnishings. Ignoring the massive armoire that served as the room’s closet, Willow’s eyes sought out the large king-size bed. In the middle of the darkly printed sheets, she finally saw that for which she’d been searching. The shock of seeing him stopped her cold in her tracks.

“Angel!?!” His name emerged from her lips in a tone comprised of fear, uncertainty, and desperation.

Startled, Angel abruptly sat straight up at the sound of Willow’s cry. His brain, however, was still somewhat lethargic after a marathon bout of sleep. Running on pure instinct, his face automatically morphed into his vampire visage as he searched for the unidentified intruder in his lair.

Only when Angel changed into his “game face” did Willow realize the consequences of waking a sleeping vampire. Stamping down the impulse to rush forward, she froze in place, once again calling his name in hope that he would recognize her as a friend, not a foe.

The confusion on the vampire’s face was evident as Angel struggled to identify the voice through the sleepy haze over his mind. It took less than a second for him to realize just who his mystery guest was.

“Willow?” He asked quietly, turning her name into a question. “What’re you doing here?”

“Angel!” Willow exclaimed, finally giving into her need to make sure he was, indeed, all right. Within the span of a single second, she tore across the room, rambling all the way over to the bed. “I knocked and you didn’t answer. All I kept thinking about was that you went back out last night and got hurt, but couldn’t get to the phone to reach anybody. I kept seeing you covered in blood...”

With the intention of taking a running leap, Willow took one last giant stride as she neared the bed. The maneuver would have worked perfectly, except that she tripped on the pile of discarded clothing scattered randomly on the floor. Hitting the bed with a strangled ‘oof,’ Willow didn’t bother to let her misstep slow her down. Shifting upright on her knees, she drunkenly made her way to Angel’s side. Once there, she grabbed him around the shoulders, pulling him into a giant bear hug.

The only problem Angel had was his uncertainty over who was more reassured by the one-sided embrace: Willow or himself. The only thing he knew for sure was that, more than anything, he wanted to pull her closer. Following through on his desire, Angel wrapped his arms around Willow’s slender shoulders and held on tight.

A long moment passed as they both enjoyed the simple comfort of holding and being held. All too soon, the veil of distortion caused by sleep began to lift away from Angel’s synaptic functions. Not that he minded Willow dropping by, not in the least, but he was concerned as to what had brought her to his doorstep.

“Willow, Giles and the others...are they okay?” Angel asked, reluctantly pulling away from the girl in his arms.

“Giles is fine, Oz is fine, Xander’s fine, you’re fine and...naked?!?” As she spoke, Willow’s eyes had been involuntarily wandering over the vampire’s body, double-checking her assumption of Angel’s condition. A strangled ‘eep’ escaped Willow’s throat when her green eyes traveled a bit too low.

The darkly printed top sheet that had covered Angel while he slept slipped down his exposed torso when he sat up so abruptly minutes earlier. While the expanse of fabric currently covered the most ‘vital’ parts of Angel’s anatomy, the way it haphazardly draped across his lap left absolutely no doubt that he was bare-assed naked underneath it.

Self-consciousness set in for Angel when he realized that Willow’s observation was, indeed, correct. “Well, I kinda wasn’t expecting any company,” he said with a sheepish, but amused, shrug.

“Oh...okay...right...dressed...you should...y’know... like soon...” A slow, burning blush crept up Willow’s neck and face as she stumbled backwards in embarrassment. It seemed as if her eyes wandered over every inch of the room with the glaring exception of the vampire before her.

Angel was hard-pressed not to laugh at her adorable discomfort, but he realized that she was right; he really should get dressed. Only there was one notable problem: Willow hadn’t yet left the room.

“Uh, Will?” Angel began kindly. He came close to biting his lip to keep from smiling at her refusal to look directly at him. “Willow? Why don’t you go downstairs and get something to drink?”

“Huh? I’m not...oh... Oh! A drink! Right! I’ll just go... wow, I’m so in the mood for a Diet Coke!” With that said, she bolted for the staircase like a sprinter at the sound of the starting gun.

Willow was sitting rather formally on the sofa when Angel came down the stairs a few minutes later. For the sake of propriety, the vampire had thrown on a pair of pants and a dark shirt, which he had left unbuttoned.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” Angel informed his guest as he sailed past her on his way to the bathroom. “Make yourself...uh...comfortable.”

Willow blushed at the vampire's choice of words as he closed the door behind himself. Only when she heard the sound of the shower starting did she throw her head into her hands and groan loudly. “Oh God, could this get *any* more embarrassing.”

For long minutes Willow sat there considering what exactly had just taken place. That she’d been so close to a naked man was daunting, and not just any man, but *Angel*, her best friend’s boyfriend...well, sort-of boyfriend. Well, maybe not anymore.

A lot had changed since she’d brought Angel back from Hell. Buffy’s absence, Xander’s relationship with Cordelia, Giles’s withdrawal, her mutual break-up with Oz -- each event only added to Willow’s loneliness. Only her newfound friendship with Angel gave her something besides school to look forward to each day.

For the first time, Willow allowed herself to consider her reasons for actively pursuing a friendship with Angel. After his stint as Angelus, the vampire had returned to find his own life in shambles. Willow had been the only one to stand by him in his time of need. Never once did she blame him for Angelus’s actions, not even for the murder of the computer teacher, Jenny Calendar. If she had, she never would have risked her own life and soul to rescue him from the Demon Dimension.

In the beginning, Willow kept telling herself that she only wanted to protect Angel while he regained his strength after his ordeal. It hadn’t been easy at first. Angel wanted nothing more than to be left alone, taking his ‘cryptic, mysterious guy’ act to a whole new level. But, using courage that she didn’t know she possessed, Willow had been determined not to lose Angel as she had her other friends. Concerned about his well being, she came to visit daily. She did her best not to let her hurt show on those few occasions he actually did turn her away. More often then not, however, Angel slowly began letting her into his life. Gradually, they found that they truly enjoyed each other’s company, especially since they had none of the romantic entanglements of most of their other respective friendships.

At least, that had been true up until this afternoon.

It wasn’t as if Willow had never noticed Angel’s looks before now. Put simply, only a blind person would fail to see that he was gorgeous -- and he was Buffy’s. At least, that was how Willow’s always thought of Angel -- not only off-limits, but way out of her league. What would somebody like him see in a person like herself? In Willow’s estimation, Angel deserved to be with somebody special, somebody like Buffy. That Buffy and Angel were no longer an item didn’t change Willow’s opinion at all.

Why, then, was she suddenly hyperaware of Angel’s magnetism? He’d never shown *that* kind of interest in her and, if she were to be truthful with herself, Willow had never taken any kind of offense at the omission. Having Angel simply as a friend was more than enough.

Over the past few months, Willow had grown to rely heavily on the friendship Angel offered. He became a sounding board for her, listening with genuine interest to whatever she had to say. He was protective without smothering her, there when she needed him -- whether she knew it at the time or not. His apartment had become her sanctuary, the one place she came when she needed to get away from her home, the library, or both places. Willow was not about to risk upsetting the status quo between them on the off-chance that Angel might want something more with her.

It wasn’t worth losing his friendship.

Lost in her thoughts, Willow jumped when she heard the door of the bathroom open. Angel emerged fully dressed in the clothes he’d worn when he first came downstairs. A knot of apprehension grew in Willow’s stomach as she waited to see how Angel was going to react to the situation that had taken place upstairs.

“Are you hungry?” The vampire asked absently as he ran a towel over his still-damp hair. As if sensing her tension, Angel treated Willow to a warm smile.

“I’m fine,” Willow replied, relieved that the vampire was acting normally. Now, if only she could do the same. Unfortunately, Angel looked unbelievably sexy standing there with damp hair and bare-footed. ‘Down girl!’ Willow ordered herself.

Angel, however, broke the spell by moving off into the kitchen. Of course he needed to feed. Willow knew better than to follow him into the kitchen. Experience had taught her that Angel was incredibly private when it came to preparing and consuming the blood that kept him ‘alive’.

“So,” Angel called from the kitchen, “you never answered my question.”

“What question was that?” she replied as she retrieved the backpack she’d tossed aside earlier.

“What brought you over here?”

“What? I can’t just visit a friend?” Willow called as she settled back onto the sofa with the history book she’d pulled out of her bag.

“I just thought you’d be home resting. You need to be as prepared as possible, Willow. This...this whole Legion thing...it’s big, Will. Probably bigger than anything that we’ve dealt with so far.”

“You said ‘we’,” Willow noted with a smile.

“Huh?” Angel asked as he emerged from the kitchen with a bag of Willow’s favourite chips in his hand. He’d long ago taken to stocking his kitchen with actual food for when she came over to visit.

“You said ‘we.’ You’ve never said that before.” Willow continued, eyeing the chips with a smile.

“I don’t follow...” the vampire replied, his confusion evident.

“You’ve always said ‘you’ before when you talked about the group.” Seeing that Angel still wasn’t grasping her meaning, Willow elaborated. “You’ve never included yourself when you’ve talked about the Slayerettes.”

Angel almost rolled his eyes at the group’s self-appointed nickname, but it seemed to Willow that he finally understood the point that she was making. For as long as she could remember, Angel had, with the exception of Buffy, insisted on keeping himself distant from the group, both emotionally and physically. Only recently had she noticed a change in his behaviour. Never once did Willow realize that she was directly responsible for the difference.

“That’s your doing, you know.” The words were spoken softly, but there was no mistaking the open gratitude in Angel’s voice. Uncomfortable with his heart-felt admission, the vampire kept his back to Willow as he retrieved a leather-bound book from his desk.

“Me?” Willow squeaked. “I didn’t do anything!”

Astounded by her statement, Angel pivoted sharply, and strode across the room. Kneeling down in front of the sofa, the vampire dropped what he was carrying to take her petite hands into his own. “Willow, don’t you see? I owe you everything.”

Words failed her at that moment. What was Angel talking about? He’d saved her life so many times, *she* was the one who ought to be thanking *him*. Knowing that bringing up that particular fact would make the vampire uncomfortable, Willow wisely chose to remain silent. Still, she was touched by his sentiment and wanted to do something to show her appreciation. In the end, Willow settled for simply squeezing his hands tenderly until she could gather her thoughts. “You don’t owe me anything, Angel. Friends don’t keep scorecards.”

They remained that way for a while longer; each lost in respective thoughts over their unique friendship. Finally, Angel leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss against Willow’s forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, letting go of her hands with one last squeeze.

The moment ended when Angel reclaimed the items he had so carelessly dropped on the floor. Handing the bag of chips over to Willow, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch and opened his book.

They spent the next hour reading in companionable silence, until they both fell asleep.




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