Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters here in. They belong to BVTS and it's creators Joss and WB. Don't hurt me for borrowing them. They needed to come out and play....
(thoughts in Italics)

"A few hours later"

Angel walked toward his room, sketch pad in hand. Willow had gone up long ago, at his insistence. Although she had tried to stay up with him, to finish their discussion about Irish legends of the little people and Tir Na Nog, her drooping head had alerted him to her exhaustion and he had carefully walked her up the stairs.

Trying all the while to think of something besides the fact that the kiss they had shared at the Faire had set his blood afire. To avoid temptation Angel had only seen her to her door, and then gone back down to sit in front of the fireplace and finish a sketch that he had kept concealed from his ionmuin, actually several sketches, all of her.

The expressions on her face ranged from contemplative to joyous wonder. The vampire wanted to try and draw her expression after he had kissed her at the fair, but after several very frustrating attempts, Angel gave up. None of his attempts, did his little mo cridhe justice. Finally he climbed the stairs and headed to his room, frustrated on more than one level..

The dark haired vampire tried to walk past Willow's door, but found that he could no more do that than live in the sun. He gazed at the door for a long moment. He wanted nothing more than to go to her. To drown in her nearness, she was sleeping and would never know that he watched her. Never know that he opened the door to her room and like some sick voyeur had watched as she lay sleeping in her bed wrapped tightly in those silken sheets.

Pausing in front of the bedroom door. Angel pushed it open slowly. He caught his nonexistent breath. Hunger burst through him with shocking intensity. She lay in the center of the large bed, her body bathed in moonlight coming from the open curtains at the window, the blankets kicked off by restless limbs in her slumber. The silken robe he'd given her to wear in lieu of her Renaissance clothing lay in a luminous pile on the floor calling to him. His eyes caught on the arch of one bare foot, and followed the line and curve of her leg unwillingly back up her naked form. She looked for all the world like a small child. Her hand held the silk sheet up between her breasts. Her face was relaxed in sleep and she looked more peaceful then he'd seen in days.

Desire licked at him with tongues of satiny fire, making him far too aware of just how long it had been since he'd taken a woman to his bed. How many times he'd stared at this woman and found himself reining in wayward thoughts and desires over the past few days. In the beginning, it had been simple fear of losing his soul that had stopped him from sating his hunger with her, then her innocence, for all that she knew, all that she had seen, and dealt with, he didn't want to be the one to take that prize, it was something she should share with a human lover, a lover he could never be.

He turned from the sight, fighting old and new needs alike. He hungered to go to her, slowly awaken her to the pleasures of the flesh. To explore every sweet moist recess of her body with his hands, his mouth. He gasped torturing himself with images of her face staring up from beneath him, alight with passion. Her hands raking across his back as she writhed in passion beneath him...

He pressed himself back against the far wall in the hall, as he thought desperately, What the hell am I going to do? Why of all the women in the world did it have to be her? Because she calls to you like a siren. he answered himself. Her song whispered over him pulling him back into the room. Angel moved to the side of the bed, and rashly considered fulfilling his fantasies where this tiny beauty was concerned, before his conscience kicked in and berated him for even thinking of taking advantage of her that way.

For some reason his mind flashed back to the time the whole family had been called to London so that the King, could reward his father for his loyalty. Upon entering the palace his mother had admonished all of the children, "No touching!", and even now he could hear his mother repeat the phrase in his head. Keeping his sigh of frustration to himself, Angel quietly continued to gaze at her, torturing himself until his fists clenched in desire. Which brought back to his attention his sketch pad still clenched in his hand. With sudden inspiration, and not much thought, the vampire quickly and carefully moved an overstuffed closer to the bed.

The moonlight from the uncovered window and his own vampiric eyesight made him able to see quite clearly, not only his subject but his own sketch book. Carefully opening the pad so that the pages wouldn't creak, he found a clean page and quickly began. Barely taking his eyes from her form, his hand and the pencil flew across the page, deftly drawing the picture from the page with a speed and skill that a master would admire.

It wasn't enough though, as soon as one sketch was done, he would fold the page back and begin another. When Willow would move in her sleep, the vampire would wait stealthily until she had settled down again. Then Angel would begin again, by the time he felt the approaching dawn and looked up to see the gray predawn light outside the sketch pad previously empty, was after this nights work now half full. Quietly unfolding his large frame from the chair, he stood and stretched, before replacing the chair to its original position. Closing the pad and slipping the pencil into the rings, Angel sidled to the bed and stood over the petite redhead.

His mother's warning rang in his ears, as he leaned down and with careful delicacy pushed a curl back off of the young witches forehead. Then slowly with a silent apology for his disobedience to his mother, he pressed his cool lips to her flushed cheek before quietly pulling the covers up over her slumbering form. Then he quickly backed out of the room, wanting to watch her for as long as he could, he then closed the door behind him. After leaning his forehead against the door for a moment, the vampire continued his previously aborted journey to his room.

Pine Valley: Angel's:

Willow felt him come up behind her. She tried to stop the involuntary smile that crossed her face, but failed. The hacker chuckled as he slid an arm around her in an embrace. She leaned back as those wonderful hands began to knead the tension from her shoulders. Willow let out a high pitched squeal as those fingers found a particularly painful knot and began to knead it.

"Sorry." Angel murmured apologetically against her ear.

"Anything?" He asked, wondering what she had found while she worked on the computer today. She had spent nearly three hours there already, researching the Summoner prophecy. "Well, Xander sent me an email. Asking how I was, and whether I would check him for possession marks when I return, because he's been defending you and can't think of any other reason why." she said with wry amusement. Angel burst out laughing at that.

Possession marks indeed. "Perhaps you should Willow there can be no other explanation." Angel said with mock severity. She smiled and clicked on the next mail icon. It was a message from Silver lady. She scanned the screen carefully decoding the script without any trouble. So the vampire that was attempting the lifting was a former fae named Galan. Interesting, and he doesn't know about Angel. Gods are being kind.

"Well there's good news and bad news. The good news is that the vampire that's trying to open the veil, we know his name, it's Galan. He doesn't know about you. I mean who you are. Meaning that you are the Western King." She smiled sadly at him when his eyes met hers. He wanted to know what was going on and she knew she owed him an explanation. He wanted to know the truth, so she'd tell him. "The bad news is, he sent Lydia to look for the Western King so they might figure out you're him and then who the Summoner is." "Willow, do you know who the Summoner is? I mean I don't think it's Buffy. This person isn't human.

Buffy is...at least in theory. I just want to know who's life I am defending? Can you understand that?" Angel asked softly. He did want to know. He needed to know, so that he could make peace with whatever the outcome. What if he failed or the Summoner wasn't what they were supposed to be?

"Yeah, I know." Willow said the words so softly that Angel even with his vampiric hearing was hard pressed to understand. Then an awful thought occurred to Angel. What if it was Xander or Oz, or someone else she loved. "It's me." She said the words so quickly and they became jumbled in the clutter of his mind. What did she say? It's me. Angel gaped at her for a moment, before the full impact of what she had uttered so quickly hit him. Willow?!?!?!! She couldn't face him, not now, not yet. Willow had wanted her identity as the Summoner to come out, she had wanted to tell Angel. She had wanted to tell him in her own time, in her own way, and this wasn't it. He had wanted to know though and she hadn't been able to deny him anything, not since he had been returned from hell. Willow surged up out of the chair in front of her laptop and pulling away

from his now limp hands walked toward the window. It was a deliberate move on Willow's part to put distance between them and keep it between them. Even though dusk was beginning to fall, the late afternoon sun still shone through the windows, casting faded golden light on her features. Angel would have moved to take her back in his arms except for that. As it was he stood at the very edge of the bands of sunlight and asked her the questions she had been dreading almost since their arrival. "How do you know you're the Summoner?" he demanded.

"Do the math, Angel. It's pretty clear." Willow responded quietly.

She wrapped her arms around her abdomen, in a defensive gesture, but still refused to look at him. "How do you know? You could be wrong? It's not like it says your name anywhere." As he continued this impromptu interrogation, Angel began to pace just on the edge of the light.

She shook her head in agreement, "True but then there are any number of things that are true of me, and not anyone else. For instance I am of fae descent. I bear their mark." She chuckled humorlessly, " and if that's not enough I possess their power. Then there is you, I am the Summoner because you made me her. You chose, you chose your consort in this based on her soul, on who, not what. It had started way back then, when you started following me, protecting me, you recognized me on a deeper level you knew. Just like you know now, it's just too hard to admit it."

"I don't understand. How does what I did influence this prophecy." Angel demanded. Pacing again in front of her. "I am not sure I don't even think they know how it works, only that it does, something in me pulled at you the moment you reacted to that pull you inadvertently made it stronger, in its creation you started playing the role of Western King to me without me even knowing it.
You protected me, that's what your job was. You were supposed to make sure I remained safe. I hadn't manifested and was weak therefore I needed someone strong to protect me. You willingly took up the role of monster slayer for me."

"All right...you're saying that all of this is happening because I took pity on an angelic child and her family?"

"No Angel this is happening because you are you and I am me. No more no less, no other could be to me what you are or will be."

"How long have you known?" Angel finally asked in a suspicious tone.

"Since before I brought you back." She replied in a barely audible voice.

"So that's why you did it." Angel said, heat rising in his voice. Willow finally looked up at him not comprehending what he was trying to say. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but he didn't look up from his pacing. "You brought me back because of the prophecy." he said pain and anger in his voice, "Because I was the Western King and you were the Summoner, so you summoned me out of hell. Not because you cared about me, or missed me, because you needed me for the prophecy to be fulfilled. Very good Willow. I didn't know you had it in you. To be that manipulative, that much of a user. Congratulations! You were right, you have changed."

If Angel had even glanced at Willow he would have stopped his diatribe. The tears had begun to course down her cheeks in silvery streams, her eyes filled with pain, her face twisted with barely controlled emotion. Then the anger at the injustice of what was happening to both of them finally was released in a shriek.

He jumped and turned to face her, what he saw made him feel as if his existence was shredded, her words made him certain of it. "Yeah Angel," she said pain and sarcasm dripping from her words. " That's it, I brought you out of hell, just because of the prophecy. Not because I missed you so much I would cry myself to sleep. Not because I wanted to talk to you so badly that I would talk to you even when you weren't there. Not because after I found out that Buffy had sent you...not Angelus... you too hell, that I was so unhappy I wanted to die. Not because every time I went to sleep *every* night I would have nightmares of what it was like for you in hell. Not because every time I would wake up from those dreams I thought I deserved to be in hell and you didn't because I failed. I failed you Angel because I didn't do the spell fast enough or soon enough, and because of that Buffy sent you to hell." As she continued Willow was becoming increasingly hysterical.

All the pent up emotion of the past several months was being released, her breaths were coming in rasping sobs, her fists were clenched so tightly at her sides that Angel could see her knuckles show bone white through the skin.

Angel was torn by each syllable from her lips, the blood red tears fell freely from his eyes as her own salty tears fell from Willows. "Not because, when I wasn't thinking I deserved to be there instead of you, I wished I could be there with you so that at least you'd have a friend with you. So every night when I had the nightmares I went into the dreams to try and help you. and every morning when I woke up I knew I had failed you yet again because you were still in hell...suffering because of me." she said miserably as she continued, "Did you think that I brought you out of hell and fought Angelus for your body and all the rest because I cared about you and I wanted you back? Did you think that when I saw what Buffy had done to you I nearly died because the thought of losing you again nearly destroys me? NO! No, I did it all because of some stupid prophecy. I have manipulated and used you this whole entire time because of some stupid prophecy!!!!!"

In that instant Angel knew he had to stop her before she destroyed them both with her words. Willow still stood in the pool of sunlight from the window, but he didn't care, he had to stop her, he had to hold her. With preter-natural speed he ran forward and caught her up in his arms. He felt the sun scorch his skin but he ignored it. He didn't stop again till he was upstairs in his bedroom. He realized she was struggling against him as he ran up the stairs but didn't let her go. Angel went to a corner of the room and sat down on the floor with Willow still held tight in his arms. Willow was sobbing, pushing against his chest, with her fists. Angel quickly took her fists and put them behind him, putting her face against his chest. Putting his own face into the crook of her neck, his blood tears soaking into the material of her shirt. She tried to beat her fists against his back and finally gave up, only able to whisper brokenly, "How could you? How could you think that I would do that to you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry mo cridhe. I didn't mean it. I didn't think what I was saying. I didn't mean to hurt you. I wouldn't hurt you to save my soul. Please, please, forgive me Willow."

Angel held her tightly against his chest. Rocking them both as they continued to cry with each other. "I didn't think what it was like for you while I was gone. I only thought about what it was like for me. I should have guessed. I should have known. You always cared, no matter what. I'm sorry, so sorry. Please.." he pleaded as he grasped the sides of her face gently. He pulled her face out of his chest to look into her tear-filled eyes. "Please tell me I didn't destroy everything with my doubts. Please say you'll forgive me. Please Willow, I know I don't deserve anything more from you....but please say you'll forgive me. Please mo cridhe."

Willow could only nod her head and then hold on as he crushed her to him again. Her sobbing abated soon after that and he became aware that she had cried herself to sleep in his arms. Angel stood with his precious bundle and crossed to the bed. He knew that he didn't deserve to lay beside her, but he also knew that he'd never leave her alone. As long as they both lived, prophecy or no, he didn't want to be apart from her even for a moment. Even if it was just as friends. Angel laid down on the bed with Willow still clasped in his arms. The surprise for tonight seemed almost inappropriate now, but perhaps it was just the thing that she would need. He wanted to see her smile again, he craved it, it was his sunlight.

She was his sunlight. With that final thought the Western King fell asleep beside his Summoner.

Sunnydale midmorning: The library:

"Giles what are we going to do?" Xander asked looking up from the book before him.

Giles stood stretched delicately and walked over to peer at the section of the book that had caught the young mans interest. Fae vampires and ancient prophecies, souled vampires and innocent witches, Giles reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Willow was aware of this waiting on the horizon long before she decide to pull Angel out of the abyss, she was created...made...chosen for this." Giles said finally, frustrated that so little was known of this prophecy and the consequences of it being fulfilled. On one side it appeared that this world would be destroyed if the gateway between the realms were destroyed yet another that it would simply allow an influx of demons and other creatures.

"So like Buffy?" Xander asked hoping and yet not hoping that it was like that. Giles studied Xander's face wondering how he was to explain that if Willow died there was no one waiting in the wings to understudy, "With one small difference, Willow is truly the only one." Giles stated after a moment.

"What fate just said you're the one, out of a random act of evilness." Xander demanded, She said she had to do this that it was supposed to be, and now Giles is seconding her words, it wasn't what he wanted to hear not at all, but he supposed that if his world had to be in someone's hands he was glad they were her capable ones.

"Oh no , no this isn't' random, it's fated she has been in the works for as close to forever as one can get." Giles said recalling what he had read about the reincarnation of the Summoner, and her subsequent lives.

"But that would mean their were others I mean Willow's not thousands of years old." Xander said catching what Giles was saying.

"No not in the physical sense. Her face has changed over the years but the soul behind the eyes remained the same." Xander nodded his head slowly as though he understood, then smiling sheepishly, "Okay wanna run that by me again cause I think I lost something in the translation." he said looking down embarrassed by his lack of knowledge in this case. "Simply put Willow Rosenberg has been in the past any number of woman of an ancient lineage so old that even time has forgotten it's true source, Irish Scots English. She dies as all things to be reborn and to search and be again. Her purpose is to act as the shield between the worlds." Giles said hoping that Xander understood what he was saying.

"Giles?" Xander chimed in having trouble with the whole thing.

"Mythologically speaking she's the Summoner. Who has sought her other self for longer then she can recall...always to fall short." Giles said finally not sure if those words would be any more helpful then his last ones.

"Angel's is Willow's other self?" Xander demanded he couldn't keep the incredulous shock from sounding in his voice."So they're like soul-mates or something?" Xander demanded.

Giles smiled softly finding some measure of humor in the soft whispered way Xander uttered the word. "Oh no nothing so juvenile and human, soul mates is referring to souls that reincarnate with you time and again. Soul mates need not be lovers they simply share a powerful bond. It would not surprise me in the least that you and Willow were not such creatures, the bond is strong and easily misinterpreted as being love, when it is merely the most powerful of friendships." Giles continued smiling at the warm look that crossed the young man's face when he said that of them. Yes, Xander might be foolish and rash but he did care deeply for the hacker. "Xander I am certain we will be able to find out more before she returns to us, and the nature of her relationship with Angel, and what Buffy is going to feel in reaction will have to be dealt with at that time, for now we can only hope that she is stronger than the darkness."

Astral plane: Willow/Tristan:

"You rang," she said sweetly, her voice dripping with becoming sarcasm. He liked her like this feisty and fiery it matched the brilliant shade of her hair. "Hello beloved, I trust this day finds you well?" He asked knowing full well something was not right with the young red head.

"I've seen better mornings, He knows now Tristan." She stated smiling a little as she saw him cringe, knowing full well that Angel's knowing about who she was, bothered the fae. He didn't trust Angel, made little secret of it and found her unwavering trust in his goodness, foolish and ill advised. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't be telling him till the time came. Willow you have no way of knowing who's side he's really on'."

"Tristan he was in the demon dimension all this time, so unless he's plotting with one of them, the chances of me having to worry are pretty slim."

"Willow?"

"Just leave it, you said you had something for me to do, and orders, from your council." Willow asked turning her attentions to business knowing that she would never change the fae's mind about Angel, and for once not caring what Tristan thought. As a student wanting to please her teacher she worried about her actions but as he had pointed out on occasions she was the Summoner and accountable to no law but her own. She didn't need anyone to tell her she could do this, but she knew the fae felt that she needed guidance and in some ways she did. She needed to know what she did was truly for the greater good, but the constant reminders of her human up bringing angered her to no end. She was their chosen how dare they doubt their choice, this wasn't a matter of her being incapable, it was a matter of her doing what was expected of her.

And Willow wasn't doing what she was expected or told which was worrying the fae court, they feared that her feelings for the vampire might make her do something foolish. Tristan feared that her feelings might lead her to trust the vampire too completely and end up costing the lass her life, he cared for his charge, had already been scolded for his affection for her. Not that the scolding had changed that he cared about her and their reasons were well founded in worry, humans did tend not to react well when it came to danger to a loved one, so sure of their mortality, he knew, and understood that he wouldn't lose the girl in the normal way, she was made of hardier stuff then the average human.

She stared at Tristan knowing that he was having trouble dealing with the whole incident with Angelus, he couldn't separate Angel from the actions of Angelus, she knew it accepted it, but it didn't change that Angel had already proved himself in her eyes. Tristan stared down at her, returning her probing look with one of his own, she was thinking about his feelings when it came to the vampire her thoughts as of late had been too full of the vampire for his liking she needed to concentrate on other things, like the fact that in less then a week the world as human and fae had always known it would come to an end. The realm of fantasy, of "make-believe", of all that can not be explained by man's science, would leak over into this one, the veil between the world would not only thin but completely break and cease to be.

He reached out and gently clasped the hackers hand in his own, drawing her to stand before him. "I know you don't like this, that you think we forced him into doing this. I assure you we didn't, Willow. The magic, the power, that must come into being in order to stop Galan, can not be tainted, coercing someone into acting apart from their nature would put a huge taint on it. You know that." She bit her lip looking at him for a long moment, and Tristan suddenly wished he'd kept his mouth shut about the vampire.

He'd said something and now he would have to see if what ever it made her realize or believe, hadn't caused more trouble than good. "So he did it all on his own? You, the fae I mean, had nothing to do with it?" Willow demanded. "Nothing, he was reacting to a draw that was preexisting. It was fate, he was always meant to do that. That night was in stone, nothing could change it, short of him not having a soul. He could have walked no other way, and he could have felt nothing else looking at you. You were what he'd been seeking ever since his soul had reentered his body, he just didn't know it. So you can't blame this love on magic, it simply is." Tristan added hoping to make her think of Angel's actions in another light, he didn't want her to think she owed the vampire anything.

"Kismet," she said pausing as what else he said sunk in. "He doesn't love me."

"Oh chere, he can do nothing but. You can fight it, pretend it isn't there, avoid its natural expression for only so long. Before good sense goes on vacation and you have only what you feel to guide you."

"No. See he loves, loved Buffy."

Tristan smiled yet again at Willow, drawing her over to stand off to the side, "I want you to watch something." Waving his hand, the scene formed in front of Willow, she watched as an alley formed before them, and Angel walked down into it looking at her but clearly not seeing her. She watched as Buffy appeared from above knocking Angel to the ground and pinning him with her foot on his chest. Angel's slightly gaspy, " know what you're thinking, but I don't bite." The scene of Buffy and Angel's first meeting. The scene changed to one of the nights at the Bronze, Angel was watching them or more appropriately Buffy, the hacker watched as the Slayer leaned over and whispered to Willow that she thought she sensed some pointy type individuals and then the Slayer stood, and walked outside. Willow expected to see Angel, stand to follow Buffy only to watch him, lean against the shadowy wall where he was hovering and stare at her. Oh my god he was watching me? Tristan continued using the strange way of showing her scenes from the past things that had included her and some that had not. She felt strange seeing them all through her eyes now, her foolishness in mistaking her love for Xander for more then the deep friendship it was, a youthful foolish human mistake, but now she knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her Prince Charming at the Masque had been Angel, just as she believed, he'd left town after that only to be brought back months later following close on the heels of the Slayer.

She looked at Tristan, who spoke softly to her, "You see even when he wished he could walk away he was brought back to you."

"Not for me, for Buffy." Willow said, clinging to the argument like a lifeline.

"Buffy was a needed distraction, he needed to forget why he'd run from you. When he came back he was thinking of helping to fight the good fight, and his relationship with the Slayer spun rapidly out of control. Fueled by how much he thought you loved another, and how strongly you tried to make him feel wanted. Your friend never offered him unconditional expectance, she wanted to tame the beast, you just wanted him on your side, beast and all. He could see that, part of him loved that always." the fae said honestly. Willow breathed in slowly knowing that she had just been given the answer to her question but it left her with a great deal more to mull over. Angel wanted her, that was clear, but love, lust, what was what, and how would he feel about the bonding. The bonding that even now whispered of his wondering where she was.

"Tristan....I..." She didn't have to finish, Tristan knew it was another side effect of her connection with the vampire staying away from him too long made her heart hurt. They needed to be near each other, as she had said they were fated, Kismet.

Galan's lair:

He watched them milling around him, he paced angrily. He wanted to go red head hunting but it appeared that she had not yet returned, Lydia should have found them, been able to take that fool lughead away from the girl. Damn it. He would just have to make very sure that he created a large rift between them, in case on some level the vampire wanted to be with her.

He looked up as Spike entered the room, he wasn't sure what was going on with the blond vampire or why every time he turned around Dru was watching him with her damnable eyes. If he wasn't so sure that they hated the Slayer and that Dru was too far over the bend to realize that the world wouldn't be vampire friendly when he finished, he would worry about the two betraying him, but he knew that Spike despised the Slayer and her friends, he had no need to worry about those two. "Spike?" He said the other vampires name, waiting for him to look at him.

"Yes," Spike asked looking over at the other vampire, he raised his scarred eyebrow in question as Galan remained silent for a moment.

"Been busy?" Galan demanded a small sardonic smirk coming to the older man's lips. Spike chuckled softly promising to give the man an ugly death when the time came.

"I need you to go and get these things from the local occult shop." Spike reached forward, grabbing the list and stared at it. ~ feathers, candles: of blue, black, white, green, red, yellow, dragon's blood, lavender, vervain, amethyst, and obsidian. ~

Spike looked up at the other vampire who was now smiling. Spike turned to leave, when he heard Galan, call " And for gods sake pay for the stuff and don't kill the shopkeeper." Spike smiled slowly, he wouldn't kill the shop keeper he might ask her what these things could be used for, because he wasn't sure, Dru might know after all the arts were one of her strengths, or perhaps he could ask the little witch, Amy. He hadn't seen her in a while, but first he would have to take care of the shadows Galan was sure to send after him.

As soon as the vampire had disappeared from view, Galan turned back to the table that lined the wall behind him, he stared at the bowl that had once held the vampires face. Who the hell are you? He wondered as he stared at the vampire no matter where he looked he couldn't find any information regarding the creature, it was almost as though the witch had made him out of thin air. Speaking of making.

Galan leaned over the table and taking up the athame that sat on the right side of the large altar, set up on the table he leaned over and picked up the small wooden bowl from the other side of the alter. He smiled remembering the shocked look on the vampires faces when he asked them to retrieve any ashes they could from fallen comrades. They were about to find out why. He took a small bottle of oil that set to the right, lifting it he flipped open the stopper and carefully poured the contents into another small bowl, before slowly stirring a small amount of the ashes into the oil.

He lifted the discarded dagger again and this time drew it quickly across his wrist and allowed a large amount of his blood to fill another goblet. He chuckled darkly. Putting the dagger back in it's place, he slowly lifted a small wooden ladle and began to dip it into the blood, and then poured the ladle full into the ash and oil mixture, a few softly uttered words. ~ By my blood, I command thee live. ~ He smiled with clear satisfaction as the bowl containing the mixture began to glow and shimmer. He watched as it lifted from it's confines and settled in the air before him, slowly taking on the shape of the vampire it had once been.

"Your bidding my master." The creature intoned, bowing before his maker. Galan smiled one down ten to go. The Slayer had truly depleted his ranks and he was about to give her a foe that she couldn't kill. Only magick could destroy these creatures, Fae magick to be exact, there were a few very unique human's that could embrace enough of that ancestral power to know how. Human's called those chosen few Witches, Galan knew full well that Sunnydale had at least one practicing witch but he also knew that she wasn't going to interfere she had no stake in it, and was a child by comparison. The shade that stood before him watched with some interest as the master repeated the movements that had given him life a number of times over slowly rebuilding the number that had dwindled since the Slayer had begun to engage them.

Galan turned to the assembled ranks impressed with his own handiwork. Sometimes he marveled at his own power, and for a moment he almost pitied the child that in less then a weeks time would face him, and lose.

Pine Valley: Angel's:

"Angel?" She called as she moved down the front staircase. He'd still been sleeping when she'd gotten up the first time to go and speak to Tristan. He wasn't in his room any more, and she was slowly seeking him out. She refused to use the link to find him, not wanting to invade his privacy any more then she had to, as it was she wasn't sure what he was feeling and wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

His words had hurt her, and she wasn't at all sure if he was over his own hurt. She wanted to see him, make sure he was all right and set down some ground rules, for them, his knowing who she was and who he was, could conceivably make things difficult. And you have a lot of explaining to do. She added ruefully, indeed she did.

She found him downstairs in the billiard room, sitting on the couch in front of the bear skin rug. He looked up as she entered the small smile that had hung on his lips turning into a grimace as he took in her stance.

"Willow." He whispered her name softly as though he feared speaking in his normal tone might prove shattering for her. She bit the inside of her lip looking down and not meeting his gaze.

"Willow?" He whispered again. "I'm sorry." they spoke at the same time, her eyes misted slightly. She walked closer to him, kneeling in front of him, so that they were on even ground. Then she spoke softly and quickly, wanting to get the words out before she lost her nerve, "I guess I thought if you didn't know, that you wouldn't feel obligated to be near me. I wanted you here, because you wanted to be here, not because you thought you had to be."

He nodded his head in understanding. "Knowing doesn't change anything, Willow. I wanted to protect you from the moment I first saw you. Magick or no magick, it was there before, it's there now. I am here because I want to be, if I have to protect you then so be it, although it would appear that you're the one doing all the protecting as of late." He stood up suddenly, causing her stumble back involuntarily. He stepped past her, moved over to the side board that took up a large part of the wall. She watched as he reached forward and picked something up. . She moved to stand nearer to Angel as he turned back to her. She noticed that Angel was holding the malachite necklace in his hand, "I thought I lost it." She whispered with some shock, he nodded his head understandingly.

He lifted the necklace and opened the clasp, walking behind her, he gently clasped it around her slender throat. Willow looked down and smiled as her eyes took in the stone and it's new chain. Angel had changed the simple black thong it had been on to a long elegantly woven chain that looked like four or five strands of extremely thin silver interwoven to create a beautiful pattern. She smiled. He returned to his spot in front of her, a small smile playing across his lips as he studied the necklace.

He chuckled darkly feeling desire wash over him in a soft unexpected wave. The necklace set just so that the tip of the slightly pointed piece of heart-stone, rested just below the hallow of her throat. "Thank you, I missed it." She said after a moment. They held each others eyes for a long moment hers going a shade darker. Angel reached forward and brushed a few strands of her red hued hair out of her face. His curled fingers slid lightly along the side of her face before gently cupping her cheek. He smiled at her gently before leaning down and capturing her lips tenderly. A bare, light brushing of his mouth against hers, then he moved away and disappeared into the next room, leaving her standing there.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She found herself hurrying after him into the next room. She reached out a hand to touch him, he turned and her hand landed on his chest, her fingers tensed for a moment before he dragged her into a tight embrace. She closed her eyes for a moment relishing in the closeness and the electric hum of power that coursed between them, she squirmed slightly attempting to draw back to look at his face. "I don't want to lose you." He whispered softly, "I know I don't really have the right, but I can't..." his words broke off, he couldn't stop his own possessive nature from coming to the fore, he wanted to claim her, in the most elemental way. He closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them again to stare down at her, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.

He jerked her closer, his mouth capturing hers, his hands sliding into her long tresses to hold her in place, he kissed her, devoid of the tenderness she knew so well, this was strictly about possession, his possession of her. When his lips left hers bruised and parted in shock as his mouth moved down the column of her throat, to brush along the pulse point that beat uncontrollably there. He nipped her flesh lightly, she could feel the sting of his fangs as they graced her flesh, each pass of his tongue was punctuated by the feel of fangs scraping lightly on her skin and the increase of the suction as he drank from the tiny wounds he'd inflicted. She gasped softly when she felt the wall come up to meet her back. Her eyes flew open and she realized that he had her corralled thoroughly. One hand rested by her head on the right side the other was moving lightly down her front, as he slowly began to slide buttons free. His mouth moved back to hers and eagerly accepted her parted lips as an invitation to ravish the depths of her mouth. The hand that had begun freeing buttons snaked into her shirt to cup the fullness of her breast, she gasped and jerked away from him, her eyes wide. They stared at one another for a long moment, before she looked down in guilt. He leaned in to capture her lips again, only to hear her pleading voice in his head. Please don't, not now, I don't think I can deal with this right now. He jerked back from her, stared longingly at her before turning on his heel and leaving the room as though the very hounds of hell were after him.