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)

Sunnydale: Galan's lair

Spike heard the angry cry that came from the large ritual room that Galan had insisted everyone leave this evening. He hurried to enter along with Dru and was shocked though secretly pleased to see Galan lying on the floor.

He looked up as they entered and Dru clapped her hands eagerly walking into the room. "All his blood is singing to me. Of stars and of tomorrows today. Oh look my Spike it's dancing, singing there will be no blood spilled today the cakes are ruined and have all run away."

Spike looked over the other vampire, smiling inwardly. His nose looked as though it had been broken and he looked quite the worse for wear. That bodes well for the little

witch. It would appear that they had managed to stop whatever the fae had attempted.

"Looks like things didn't go well for you mate." Spike observed. He chuckled as the vampire growled at him.

"That little bitch has allowed that damned vampire in her mind. He did this. I want to know who he is. Damn it." Galan grumbled angrily. Spike smirked softly wondering what the bastard would do when he learned that the vampire in question was Angelus. The Scourge of Europe. That the most feared of Darla's creations had in fact been the one who ended her unlife.

"So the girl has herself a pet vampire?" Spike asked curiously wondering what Galan would say.

"You've been in Sunnydale longer than I, you've seen this girl. Where would she have been involved with a vampire? I know she runs with the Slayer and what not, but a vampire and a Slayer. That seems rather preposterous. although..." He paused remembering the first time he'd seen the Vampire and Willow. He remembered the pained expression on the Slayer's face. She was so upset that she hadn't realized he'd been there.

"The Slayer was in love with a vampire?" Galan demanded his voice filling with incredulous shock at the thought of it. It wouldn't have been the first vampire that had been drawn to the Slayer but it would have been the first Slayer that loved a vampire.

"Galan?"

"You know who it is don't you?" He demanded suddenly grabbing Spike by the throat."Why will you not tell me?" Galan growled and forced Spike back into the wall.

"Because you fool you wouldn't believe me. That vampire is my sire and my ladies sire."

Spike said angrily shoving the other vampire away from him with ease.

"You expect me to believe that the mighty Angelus was reduced to that." Spike looked away from the other vampire and towards Dru, realizing that it didn't matter what he said to Galan, the bastard, wanted to hurt someone because he'd been thwarted. The truth had been given to him and he had thrown it away. It wasn't Spike's place to inform him that he would be hard pressed to draw Angelus away from the girl. We weren't talking about a normal vampire, we were talking about Angelus.

With a snide smile the British vampire took his compatriots arm and as he was escorting out of the chamber he said over his shoulder, "Believe what you want..." then in a voice dripping with sarcasm he added, "Master."

Pine Valley:

When he awoke it was to a highly sensitized state. The one most vampires were in when they awoke hungry. He was nearly overwhelmed by the scent of tea rose and lavender, the soft silk of ruby red tresses under his chin and on his shoulder, soft arms encircled his waist, tiny hands were pressed against his back. Her eyelashes felt feathery soft against the skin of his collarbone, while soft breaths brushed against his breast bone, and the sound of her heartbeat was like thunder to the vampire. He had to feed but how to get away from the innocent in his arms without waking her.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind he felt her stir and then rouse herself. At first she wouldn't look at him and then emerald eyes met chestnut, and Angel felt as though he had been kicked in the chest. The young woman's eyes held fear and disgust in them, What did I do?

The young woman sighed and sat up, Not you. She said sitting cross-legged on the bed to face him.

Not...? Then the memory of the other vampire in the dream came rushing back and he sat up abruptly facing her. She held up her hands in what she hoped was a soothing gesture and said, "I'm okay...I'm okay."

"Are you really mo cridhe?" Angel said looking at her with quiet intensity.

Willow looked into the those fathomless eyes for an instant then away and said sadly, "No...maybe not."

Gently and carefully he reached for her hands, raising them both he caressed them gently with his lips and whispered, "Tell me...talk to me please."

The green eyes gazed at him once more and said, "Don't you want to eat first? I know you're hungry, I can feel it."

"Feeding can wait, you cannot." the vampire said firmly.

Again Willow attempted to warn him, "It may take awhile."

Angel looked up at the little hacker with a wry smile and said, "After two hundred fifty years on earth and a hundred in hell I think I may have learned a little...reserve."

He was surprised to hear her actually giggle at his joke.

"What do you want to know?" she said finally.

"Tell me about the dream." Angel said calmly. Seeing her flinch, he was afraid he might be pushing too hard, but he needed to find out so he could help her. He wasn't even sure that he could help her but he desperately wanted to try.

Willow appeared thoughtful for a moment and then said, "I was tied up in some kind of stone chamber and then he came... only I thought it was you. He looked like you."

With dawning horror, Angel stuttered in a dark voice, "Did he...Willow when you thought it was me...did I..." Angel couldn't ask it.

Realizing what he was thinking, Willow flushed and shaking her head vigorously said, "No! No...he started...to touch me...and I noticed I couldn't feel him like I do you," tapping her head she explained, "up here. And his hands weren't the same." she added looking down at his hands clasped around hers, "And he wasn't wearing a Claddagh." she finished. Tracing the ring with her thumb.

"That's when I heard you say no?" Angel asked quietly, the bright head bobbed up and down in response. Then another memory of the dream surfaced and Angel said, "Willow he knew you were the Summoner?!"

"Yeah," said the young woman tiredly, "I think he's the one who's going to try and open the veil." she concluded.

"Next time," the vampire said with unholy glee, "I'll break more than his nose."

Willow smiled at the vampire gratefully if a little wanly and he deduced quietly, "I still don't understand what this did to you, do I?"

The tiny redhead smiled at him sadly as she shook her head, and Angel could feel her mental and emotional withdrawal from him as a physical thing. Without thinking he pulled her hands toward him until she was off balance, then he put his hands under her arms and lifted her onto his lap, he wrapped her arms around his neck. He then gently uncrossed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He put one hand at the small of her back and the other on the back of her neck to hold her in place. By this time Willow's face was suffused with a deep rose color, as she gazed into his deep brown eyes, and her mouth hung open in surprise.

"Willow," he said holding her gaze with his own when she would have looked away with embarrassment, "what did he do?"

That statement snapped her right out of her embarrassment and Angel would have almost preferred it to the look now on her face. It wasn't cold, or angry, or fearful, indeed if he was hard pressed, her dark haired companion would have said that their wasn't any emotion in her face at all. That was what worried him, she was trying to shut down and in the process shut him out. He had to shock her out of this self-enforced stupor. God help me. I don't want to frighten her...but I can't let her stay like this.

Quickly he morphed into his demonic visage and shook Willow, he was very careful not to shake her too hard, and he didn't pull her closer. In short he was doing everything he could to intimidate her without actually being overly threatening. The look of sudden fear on Willow's face though, told him he was being successful in frightening her, even though it also tore at his undead heart. He just hoped when this was all over she would forgive him. With a growl, he demanded, "Tell me what he did, woman!"

Her face contorted as she tried without success to keep her emotions in check, as she spoke, "He...he came in my mind...without my permission. I thought he was you...you're the only one...I never let anyone else..." her stuttering explanation deteriorated in direct proportion to her emotional state, "he was in my dreams...he was there and it felt dirty...he made me feel dirty...he touched me...and I thought I was going to be sick...and..." By this time Willow's face was red, she was sobbing uncontrollably, in a much needed release as the tears streamed down her face.

Without another word, Angel pulled her toward him, pressing the tiny woman's body against his, gently turning her face into his neck, he held Willow as she continued crying realizing that in some ways what this strange vampire had done to her was more an invasion of Willow's privacy than almost anything Angel could think of. He had used her own dreams against her. Angel swore a bloody and painful death for the creature when they met again.

As her sobbing began to dissipate, Angel whispered into her auburn hair, "I'm sorry Willow, I'm sorry, please forgive me."

Intelligent, moist, green eyes looked up at him through a tangle of damp, red tresses. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Willow questioned accusingly.

Her dark haired companion stared down into those eyes, She's not going to forgive me for this. he thought despondently as he simply nodded his head. Grimly he resolved that if she was going to hate him for this, that was her right. He was not going to lie to her or try to defend himself about this action.

That resolve was shattered when those innocent emerald eyes looked up at him and asked the one question he hadn't been prepared for, "Why?"

Angel shut his eyes and lowered his head. His whispered in a low, soft voice, "I..I knew that he had...had damaged you emotionally. I could feel it." He pulled her close to him again as he spoke, tucking her head under his chin and holding her tight there. "I knew you wouldn't tell me what it was, he had done. Unless I did something drastic." Angel had pulled her close for two reasons, he needed this contact to calm him, to calm the fear and rage that talking about this was dredging back up in him. The second was so that she couldn't see the emotional toll this was taking on him. " I care about you Willow. I can't stand to see you hurt if there is something I can do to fix it." Reining in his emotions, Angel spoke quietly into her ear, "Mo cridhe, tell me what to do to make it better. Tell me what *I* can do to make it better."

She stared up at Angel, "I...I got rid of...of any reminders...that..that thing was in my head." she said shuddering slightly at the memory, "but...now there are these dark, empty places in my mind, where I ripped him out. Angel," she repeated in an almost hysterical voice as he soothed her titian tresses back into place, "he came into my mind without my permission or invitation...and I had to take those parts out...but now it's like pieces are missing from the puzzle. I need someone to fill me back up and put me back together."

"Tristan?" Angel asked her too softly. His jealousy of the fae was eating at him, but his concern for Willow far outstripped that petty emotion.

"No...he's not...our link isn't..." she stammered and began to squirm slightly in embarrassment.

Angel moaned internally, his hunger was being ignited anew by her movements and proximity. Moving his hand from the back of her neck to her jaw line he gently forced her to look into his fathomless eyes and said simply, "Tell me."

"My link to Tristan isn't on the same level as the one I have with you. It's like when you came into me to fight the demon a part of you stayed inside me. It's a very...private, intimate sort of thing...almost more so than being lovers. So it would be better if you..."

Willow's voice trailed off into nothing and without asking he knew what she meant and gazing at the top of her, once more lowered head, Angel asked, "How?"

"The link only you have to be in control of it, not me. You have to...um link with me...really deeply...to heal me..." she said nervously.

The image of a little red haired girl, dancing in the shadows of his mind, singing and lighting candles as she healed him, suddenly came to his mind. Making him laugh gently, "I remember...you did that to me." Then he looked down at her with a wry grin and said, "You want me to sing?"

Willow gave him a little smile as she tapped his nose, "Just do what feels natural...it works better that way. I mean I can't tell you how you know...you have to know." she whispered looking down.

The statement about doing what came naturally, made Angel instantly anxious. Gently he began to shift trying to remove the young woman from his lap as he said, "Maybe I had better feed first, I mean..."

Willow put her hand over his on the side of her face, and in that instant the tiny hacker was inside of his mind. Your hungry and your afraid. You think doing what comes naturally.. will make you drain me. You won't drain me Angel...I know you won't hurt me...and if that's what it takes to link that deeply with me when you're awake then do it.

"No!" Angel tried to back away from her, bucking his hips trying to dislodge her from his lap, but she didn't budge. "Willow, you don't know what you're saying, you don't know what I might do..."

"I know you won't hurt me." The young redhead said. Looking at the vampire, she moved her hands to either side of his face, holding him steady in her hands. "I know what vampires feel like when they feed. What it does to them. I could quote it verbatim from Giles' books. I know what...I feel like... when you feed from me...I don't think that...I don't know...how you feel when you...umh feed from me...but I want you to do this I need you to do this, I need you to bite Angel."

Angel looked at her with an odd mixture of emotions on his face, fear, desperation, confusion, and yes perhaps a little desire. This was a strange turn of events. They had been talking about how to heal her and now she wanted to talk about one of the most intensely emotional and exciting things that had ever happened to him in all his 250 years. Then another thought occurred to him, How could he possibly tell her the truth?

"Willow," he began slowly, "I don't think I can do that...and I know it is definitely not a good idea for me to feed from you again."

"Why not? I know you won't lose control. You didn't before and you were a lot hungrier than you are now." Green eyes met brown and she continued, "What are you afraid of Angel?"

He couldn't tear his gaze from hers, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't. Part of the truth then and maybe she'll forget the rest. "I think I'm becoming addicted to your blood." As soon as it was out of his mouth Angel's eyes widened in shock. Dagda, I didn't want to tell her that. I must be losing my mind. He thought shaking his head at his own stupidity, Well...I wanted her to be scared of me so she'd stay away, that'll just about do it.

Willow though didn't look frightened, she looked curious, and maybe a little incredulous."I don't understand, what do you mean addicted?"

Angel drew in a deliberate breath and let out an equally deliberate sigh. "Alright, sometimes vampires will begin feeding off of a particular source. A particular variety of people, like addicts, or religious people, or women, or children, or mothers, or something. They just prefer that particular type of blood, the flavor of it. Blood is a lot like water, depending on what type of vessel you put it in, it takes on the unique flavor or characteristics of that receptacle..."

"Like vintage wine?" Willow interrupted thoughtfully.

Angel considered that for a moment and finally agreed, "Yes, in a way, if they didn't put the wine in oak casks they wouldn't taste like they do; and if they didn't do everything they do to champagne it wouldn't have it's unique flavor. The same is true of humans, each one brings their own unique flavor to their blood."

"I still don't understand. You were feeding from bags and bottles, not humans. Even when you were Angelus, you...were kind of...random about who you fed from. At least as far as we could figure out." she said chewing on her lip thoughtfully. As she tilted her head to the side she continued, "So how could you be *addicted* to me?"

"Sometimes," he began his gaze going distant, "whenever there is a limited supply of food, vampires will deliberately limit their intake. They'll only take a little food usually from a few select individuals. It happened a lot during the Black Plague or during wars, natural disasters, or epidemics. The only problem was once the crisis was over, sometimes the vampires were addicted to the blood of those individuals they had fed on, or at least to that particular type of individual. Many of them were eventually turned or killed, but the vampire would continue to feed on that particular variety of humanity."

"Why were they turned or killed though?" Willow said with a perplexed frown on her face, "I mean that would seem like a perfect solution, a ready and I assume willing supply of food, no need to go out and kill someone, no chance of being discovered and killed by a Slayer or someone else, and if you made friends with them, someone to do things during the day that you couldn't, maybe even protect...."

"Because it doesn't work that way Willow." Angel replied in a hard voice, then softening his tone slightly he continued to explain, "Regular vampires aren't like me, the demons inside of them don't like to be controlled or bonded to anyone or anything. Especially not something they consider a food source, so they would either kill or change their supply sources, but the addiction they developed to that kind of blood...made it necessary...."

"To continue feeding from that kind of blood." the petite young woman said with dawning realization and a little hint of wariness. "So what," Willow said, trying to lighten the mood, "you're addicted to redhead, Jewish, computer hackers turned fae witch? Yeah I can see where those would be kind of hard to come by."

Her humor actually did cause Angel to give a small smile, then he regained his grim expression and said quietly, "Oh I know they're rare, actually I think you're one of a kind." That statement earned him a blushing grin from the little witch, he continued, "It wouldn't matter if you were one of the most common types though, I"m addicted to you not your type. Your blood has energy and sweetness, purity and fire, light and l-love in short everything that makes you who you are, is in your blood and that's what I'm addicted to. I can't get that from anyone or anything else, all the blood that I've had since you last fed me is bland, tasteless. Filling but not satisfying, it quenches the hunger, but that's all. Willow, don't you understand? I'm afraid that if I keep feeding from you...the addiction will become so great...that the other blood won't even quench the hunger anymore."

Willow sat stunned, gazing at him in confusion, "I don't remember any of Giles books saying anything like that." she finally said.

Angel gave something of an evil smirk that made the redhead think of Angelus for a moment before he finally said, "That's because most of those books were written by Watcher's or associates of the Council. The enemy. Vampires kept that secret very carefully so that it couldn't be used against them. If any Watcher or anyone else ever did find out about the addiction, the vampire would usually eliminate them. Especially if it were a Watcher or someone from the Council."

"Oookay. So other than the addiction thing is there any other reason you won't...help me?" the young hacker managed in a shuddery breath.

"Any other...Willow didn't you hear what I said. I could kill you or change you." Angel said incredulously.

"No you said that other vampires did. Angelus might have if he had ever been addicted. You have never been addicted, to me or anyone else before. Have you?" she asked.

"No, but I.." Angel said carefully, concerned with where this was going.

"Then you don't really know that you would react the same way as normal vampires do, do you?" Willow demanded.

"Willow..." he began.

"Never mind," the hacker said suddenly. Quickly she began to untangle herself and pull away from the dark-haired vampire. "I'll figure something else out."

Angel looked at the petite woman with a perplexed frown on his face. Trying to figure out the sudden change of attitude. "Willow," he spoke cautiously, "I thought you said that you needed help to heal yourself...my help, specifically. What..." Then he noticed she wasn't looking at him at all, as she moved off of his lap.

"It's okay," Willow said hurriedly, "It's not a problem. I did it before, I can do it again..."

Suddenly grabbing the tiny woman under her arms he pulled her quickly back into his lap and said in a quiet, stern voice, "What do you mean, you did it before?"

Willow looked at him momentarily puzzled by the question, then as realization dawned, Willow gave a look that made it very obvious she hadn't wanted that to slip.

With a resigned sigh the young woman looked at a place over his shoulder, "When you lost your soul, it was like it is now." she began, "My mind I mean." she clarified, with another tired sigh, "when your soul left you, it took great big chunks of me with it and I had to heal them by myself. It takes longer and it's a lot more involved..." as she spoke, Willow's voice had become angrier and even a bit sarcastic, "and I mean I couldn't exactly go up to Angelus and say 'Hi my brain's like a lump of Swiss cheese right now and I was wondering if you could help me out?', now could I? So I'll just do that... what I did before again and..."

As she spoke, she hadn't noticed the hand that had smoothed up her arm and behind her neck, and now Angel used it to full advantage. Pulling her off balance until their lips met, he heard the exclamation of surprise mentally. Softly, soothingly, he stroked the tip of his tongue across her lips. Not releasing her, the vampire slid back along the sheets to the headboard. Leaning against it, he carefully raised his knees behind Willow's back. Angel smiled against her lips as he felt her gasp. The dark haired immortal knew that the girl in his arms had realized that she was now trapped between his bare chest and his upraised knees, not to mention being held in the gentle prison of his arms.

He continued coaxing her lips with his, and when Willow opened her mouth his tongue invaded the warm recesses of her mouth. Angel moaned as the feel of her sent a bolt of desire through his body. Fighting that desire down furiously he continued to caress her. His hands burying themselves in the warm, springy texture of her hair. Willow...my Willow...let me in...invite me in.

A soft moan came from deep in her chest as the beautiful redhead slowly lowered her defenses. A quiet musical voice spoke in the vampires mind, Angel...come in.

Maintaining the kiss, his concentration, and the precarious hold he had on his desire quickly became too much for him. As soon as she had let him in, Willow felt his desire billow into her mind, and because she wasn't prepared for it, the witch didn't have a way to defend against it. Angel's desire rolled into her like a fog, but it didn't overwhelm her. Instead, much like it's source it caressed and coaxed a response.

As Angel broke the kiss to give Willow a much needed breath, she raised her arms to circle his neck. Her own fingers sinking into his dark curls, her lips trailing along his cheekbone, finally closing around his earlobe. Angel growled softly at Willow's aggressiveness, as his own lips grazed along the gentle arch of her jaw line. His hand still tangled in her tresses, brushed her curtain of auburn hair back from her shoulder. The ridges of his game face nuzzled into the hollow behind her ear. Willow giggled at the tickling sensation and he wondered for an instant if she would still giggle if she knew he wore his demonic visage.

I know. came a musical whisper in his mind. Stunned the vampire froze for a moment, his face nestled in the crook of her neck. You know? he finally sent back to her.

Of course. she responded, as she circled his earlobe with the tip of her tongue. You don't...it doesn't bother you?

No, it's part of you...part of who you are...nothing about you could ever frighten me away. Willow whispered in his mind as she moved lower to nibble on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

The gratitude he felt for her complete trust in him nearly overwhelmed Angel. Thank you, mo cridhe. the vampire whispered to her. Are you coming in? she whispered, and for a moment of complete confusion, Angel didn't realize what the redhead was talking about. Then he remembered what he was supposed to be trying to do.

With exquisite tenderness he stroked his tongue down to where her blood pulsed under the skin. With his heightened senses, Angel could smell the blood, Willow's blood, flowing through her veins. He could hear it pulsing through her body, on each heartbeat. The need for her blood nearly drove the vampire insane. Are you sure...? he asked one final time. His concern for the young woman still enough to draw him back from the edge of the blood lust.

I'll be fine, I'll heal from these wounds, but not from the others if you don't help me. Please Angel. came the soft caress of Willow's reply.

With great care he licked the remainder of salt from her skin, then carefully sucked the skin just around the vein into his mouth. He could feel the blood pulsing through the vein against his tongue. Relaxing even further into game face, he felt his canine teeth extend into fangs. With care and precision that most lab technician's could never hope to match, those fangs slipped through the skin and slid into the vein. The nectar that was her life force welled up into his mouth and rolled down his throat. The taste and feel of her were all it took to push him over the edge, he climaxed even as he fell into her mind.

Opening his minds eye, the sensations from Willow embraced him like a warm blanket. Spiraling further down into those feelings, he realized that the mind he was entering was like different rooms. Angel chuckled to himself, Naturally, even Willow's mind would be very well organized.

He moved forward and as he did, he noticed something, whereas his mind according to what he had seen through Willow's eyes, was a dark and dismal place. Willow's mind was light and airy, warm and somehow colorful. Angel wandered through her mind for quite some time before he realized he was quite lost. Willow? How do I do this? I don't even know where I am or where I'm supposed to be going?

An image of Willow materialized before him, very much like when she had healed him. This image wore a white gauzy gown. This time though her hair was pulled back from her face and piled on top of her head. She seems older somehow...no not older, more mature. the vampire corrected himself as he looked down at the tiny figure in front of him.

Without speaking, the figure's tiny hand reached out to clasp Angel's much larger one. As soon as she did, Angel found himself in what he could only assume was one of the chambers of Willow's mind. There before him, like a badly spliced piece of film, the earlier incident with the vampire who had taken his shape was trying to replay itself.

However, as Willow had told him, she had erased parts of that memory. So that now only very small parts of that incident replayed itself.

Then that image seemed to disintegrate before his eyes, and as he looked around the chamber, he saw large gaping holes in the walls, floor and ceiling of this chamber, they stood like great wounds in her mind.

How do I...? he asked the Willow apparition. Still without speaking, the ghostly figure took the hand that was still clasped in it's own, walked over to one of the holes, and placed Angel's hand on the side of it.

Almost immediately, red and black sparks seemed to fly from his fingers and where ever those sparks touched, the hole began to close in on itself. Angel continued around the chamber healing the empty places of Willow's mind. Indeed as he continued the slow process he did begin to hum, although he didn't notice it at first.

By the time he was two-thirds of the way done healing Willow. The chamber of her mind echoed with the strains of Green sleeves. When he had finished repairing the damage done by the invasion of the imposter, Angel surveyed his handiwork.

Somehow he knew that his work was not done, when he turned the Willow apparition was gone. Moving to the center of the chamber, Angel sat on the floor and closed his eyes, hoping that Willow would give him some idea, what to do next. Then he began to think about what would have happened if he had been the one to 'rescue Willow' and not that imposter. Carefully the dark vampire, entered the stone chamber. There struggling in the corner was a bound young woman. The red hair gave her away, as the one he was searching for. Moving through the shadows, he came up behind her quietly, one hand clasped over her mouth before she could scream. I'm here, mo cridhe.

Instantly she relaxed into his touch and careful not to put too much strain on her arms he pulled her up and into his embrace. He wrapped his duster around her, and moved into the shadows, concealing them both. Willow pulled tightly against his chest, didn't see the appearance of the imposter or the look of rage that crossed that face making it ripple and change back into the unfamiliar demonic visage of the strange vampire. Angel studied that face though and memorized it, as 'the enemy'. When the other vampire finally seemed to give up and leave, Angel quickly scooped his redhead dream partner into his arms and carried her out of the chamber. When they reached what he estimated to be a safe distance he lowered his witch back to the ground. Reaching behind her the vampire released her with a flick of his wrist, but then just as quickly captured her wrists in his hand. Emerald green eyes met the coppery gold ones of a fully vamped out Angel and the smile that appeared on the shining face before him was breath-taking. Willow stood on her toes, and captured the lips of the vampire who stood before her. As soon as she did, Angel came back to reality and quickly yet carefully retracted his fangs from Willow's skin. He checked her pulse, it was thready but strong.

Willow...are you? the vampire couldn't bring himself to ask the question, but the young hacker knew. Auburn lashes stirred against a pale porcelain cheek, then fluttered open to reveal the emerald green eyes of his dream. Our dream. Weak words flitted into his mind, caressing, gentle. Fine...tired...sleep...hold me...please?

Without answering, the vampire stood and lifting his love in his arms, he pulled the covers back, and after settling her in the bed, climbed in beside the exhausted woman. Pulling her into his arms felt like the most comfortable and natural thing in the world to do. Willow snuggled her face into his chest and he stroked her hair soothingly. Soon they both fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Sunnydale Galan's lair:

He watched impassively as one of Lydia's childer hurried unceremoniously into his chambers. The fledgling was trembling with fear and looked up at the master vampire worriedly.

"What?" Galan demanded angrily. He had been hoping that Lydia would have distracted the vampire enough for him to take the witch's mind.

Instead, it appeared he'd only succeeded in causing the two to bond more deeply. Again he wondered who that vampire was. Spike couldn't honestly think Galan would believe that a vampire like Angelus would have been captured by such a creature.

"Lydia...Master...she's been killed." Galan stared in shock at the creature before him, his mind running in circles.

"What? How? Why?"

"The girl...the one you sent Lydia to find...she...she did what the others say. She's powerful. Lydia tried to attack her mate and the witch dusted her for it," the fledging stammered with fear. He didn't know what frightened him more. The idea that a human could destroy one of them with what seemed like thought alone, or the growling master vampire before him. For the moment, the master vampire won out when he swiped a fist into the smaller vampire's face.

The fledgling cried out in pain. Lydia had been deviant and often cruel, but this vampire made her seem tame. The young vampire knew as soon as he saw what was in his attacker's hand that he was dust. A satisfied smile played across Galan's face as he watched the young one shimmer to a small layer of dust before him.

Sunnydale: Buffy's

She thought to herself. It had the strange haziness that always came in dreams, images not quite formed and waiting to be finished, as if the artist had stopped in the middle, not knowing where to go or what to do with the picture they had started. She walked through the dream scape.

She looked left and then right where she spotted the door to the Bronze and slowly pushed it open, soft music was playing and the air was filled with billows of smoke. She shivered, her mind whispering that a vampire was near. Turning she ground to a sudden halt as she took in the sight of Angel and Willow dancing in the middle of the Bronze. 'Although dancing wasn't exactly the word for it. They swayed and clung to one another, and it seemed that even the small steps customary to slow dancing were too much for them. Caught up completely in each other, they remained in the same position as other couples circled around them; the only movement to be found in their private world was the gentle undulation of one body against another. The hacker's body was pressed easily and intimately against the vampires. He leaned down capturing Willow's lips in a tender kiss. Buffy felt her ire rise, any doubt she had, had falling away, leaving only the black rage of jealousy. She ran at them her hands reaching to pull Willow away from her lover. She stared in shock as Angel crumbled, before her eyes. The Slayer looked up to see Willow holding a stake in her right hand.

The scene changed suddenly. She was standing out in the open, under the new of the moon, someone standing before her was chanting. Willow stood just in front of the robed figure. There opening in a stone wall in front of them was a portal and through that portal came strange, half crazed, manic creatures. Creatures of pure evil and malevolence, their hideous nature showing through in their equally hideous appearance. Buffy watched as one of the creatures reached Willow and took up her hand. She gasped and screamed wanting her to come back intuitively knowing that if Willow went all was lost. The scene changed again.

This time she opened her eyes to what appeared to be a cavern. Willow was standing before the strange man again. He was a robed; stringy dark hair flowing past his shoulders. In his hand was an ornately carved dagger. He smiled coldly at Willow. Buffy waited for the image to change, her mind frantic to make sense of it. They moved, revealing what Buffy had secretly feared.

Angel lying naked on a stone altar, chained to it. She tried to call out to him, to go to him, but she couldn't move, couldn't speak. She was frozen. Angel thrashed on the altar trying to escape. Catching sight of her he called out, and "Buffy help me!" She struggled desperately against whatever force was holding her but could not escape. Looking into Angel's eyes she tried to speak to him through though, her voice wouldn't work he cried out again, this time a different name, "Willow!"

The robed man didn't say a word, only raised the dagger and plunged it into Angel's heart. Then just as quickly, he removed it to cut across his throat, his wrists and the insides of his thighs. Buffy didn't understand what the man was doing until she saw the large quantities of blood trickling down the special grooves in the altar. They ran into what looked like a trough at the end of the stone slab. Suddenly several vampires appeared at the end of the altar and looked up at the robed figure expectantly. "Drink...his blood will make us strong for what is to come. When the veil is removed, we will rule both worlds."

Like ravening animals most knelt by the trough and began to drink the blood, A few however, not satisfied with the blood there, went to the source. They fell upon Angel, feeding from the wounds that the robed man had created. One of them turned Angel's head for easier access, so that he was facing Willow again

The robed man walked toward Willow, she ignored him to look at Angel. His eyes held such pain; she felt her own eyes tear. Willow seemed to try again to reach him. As the robed figure took Willow's arms, Angel called out to her one last time, "Willow!" Then his eyes closed and he disintegrated into ash as the last of his blood was removed from his body. Buffy tried to scream as the robed figure shook the red-haired girl vigorously. Willow succeeded where Buffy failed, screaming loud and high. It was that scream that awoke the Slayer from her dreams. She sat up, breathing hard, her mind in turmoil.

As she sat on the edge of her bed, Buffy looked out the window, surprised to see it was still light outside. Glancing at the clock on her end table, she reached up and rubbed her eyes clear of the sleep, that had collected there during her afternoon catnap. The teen-ager stretched sinuously, unaware of the eyes that watched her.

Not that he was surprised. He was after all not a demon, nor a human, and he was so much more. More than the vampire that coveted his charge, more than the demon spawn that wished to end the mortal realm, more then any of those recognized things.

Like Willow, he was one of the old ones, as old as the foam that capped the waves of this worlds many oceans. He, like the little hacker, understood the workings of the mortal realm. He, unlike his charge had long ago lost his faith in mankind. He no more trusted mortal kind then he did that vampire that she so clearly loved. He cared about Willow, his feelings for her marred his ability to act and think, for true action would have forbidden her from releasing the vampire from his bonds.

He groaned angrily, his eyes drawn to the Slayers arching figure. She was stretching, luxuriating in her own warm sinews. She moved about her room, getting clothes together, and headed for the bathroom. He waited, assuming she would return in moments, not nearly an hour later.

He waited for her to leave the steamy confines of the bathroom, and while he waited he thought. Willow had once accused him of brooding as much if not more than her vampire. It wasn't true he didn't brood, he thought, he just thought deeply and intensely about things, he needed things to work out. He had no desire to see the mortal world end, no desire to see *HER* world end. He tried so hard to move on, to avoid any lasting reminders of his foolish youth, but here he was again, standing in the mortal realm watching a mortal woman, and not just any mortal woman. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was nothing like Willow, and even further removed from Katharine, but then no one was like his love.

Loss was something that he was on intimate terms with; he above all understood what it was to lose someone you cared about. He above all understood that 'as above, so below' didn't apply to human life. Humans existed in a single brilliant blaze of fire and light, warmth and laughter. They were creatures driven by the pursuit of pleasure, whatever pleasure that might be. They lived to die and their lives were but a brief mark on the landscape of time. They existed for moments, a blink of the eye for the faery. They lived and died most without ever knowing that around them, with them, milled the creatures of forever, the first, the true children of the gods.

The ones that man had forgotten or neatly tucked away in legend. They took his world and turned them into the stuff of dreams. It was as Willow had once said, too hard for humans to see that there were creatures that lived life slowly and died once in a while. The only certainty man ever had, was the promise of death's embrace.

He smiled softly, wondering how it was that he could start thinking of *HER* and end up on that spitfire of a woman. his mind said, taunting him with images. He could see her red hair glowing under the light of the sun his colleen, she had been even more forbidden to him than Willow. His charge, his ward, He had been charged with looking after her. He had, but he had been young then, full of hope, and unknowing of the dangers of the mortal world, or the pain of loving one of them.

She had found her way into his heart, taken up residence and stolen a piece of it for herself, all without so much as a single warning. One moment she was bonnie Katherine Norris his charge and responsibility, the next she was the woman who held his heart and soul in the palm of her hand. He had learned with devastating speed and thoroughness what it was too, to love another with his whole being.

He had learned also what it was to lose and hate with his whole being. They were emotions and feelings that he had never known before. He had swum in the sea of Katherine's love and drowned in the pain of her death, and hungered for revenge against that which had taken her from him. No mortal death had claimed his beloved, oh no; one of them had taken her, drawn just as he had been, by the magic in her soul.

The draw had been the same, but the desire had been different, the vampire had craved the power and foolishly believed that what he sought would be his, if only... if only he embraced the innocent colleen. He had never felt the pain of her loss more keenly, than when he was faced with the ungodly sight of her vampiric double. It had been all he could do, when he'd first seen the vampire that wore her face, not to fling himself into her sweet embrace and lose himself in the illusion of her. He had loved her, loved her with all his immortal soul, and like so many foolish and weaker creatures he'd died that day.

In the end, he'd plunged a wooden stake through her heart, all the while hating himself and the vampire even more with the settling of the dust that had once been her beloved form. At that moment he had understood why his people avoided the vampire, why they so seldom interfered with the lives of mortals.

It was different now than it had been then. More of them were born every day and not all of them were as protected as his lovely red haired Summoner had been. He didn't put much faith in vampires, had little trust for the one she called friend, and would never accept completely that all vampires were not the same. Even if he knew firsthand at least one witch who loved a vampire with all her soul, and even if the damned immortal in question had lacked the sterling aura that Angelus, the Scourge of Europe now boasted. Willow understood that the fae Watcher couldn't change his mind so easily, any more than he could change the Summoner's heart.

He turned his attention back to the present and took pause, as the young Slayer walked out of her bath. He knew he should leave her alone as she readied herself for the evening, but he couldn't. Something about the Vampire Slayer was nearly as compelling as his young charge. They were different as moonlight is from sun, yet strangely holding a common bond because they were both so uncommon.

He watched as she applied a light coat of foundation in her vanity mirror, watched as with teenage abandon she rummaged through the make-up in the small container on the right side of the desk. Willow had once explained that the sheer normalcy of the action of applying makeup, had more to do with her reason for bothering then the belief that she needed to make herself beautiful to go fight vampires.

He had understood and had watched Willow go through much the same action though with admittedly different colors. He smiled as the Slayer lifted a small bottle of perfume and sprayed a small amount on wrist and neck. It was absurd, the Vampire Slayer readying herself for her sacred duty in such a way and yet it made sense, she wanted at least some semblance of normalcy, and that was her way of locating it.

She walked over to her bed and began putting stakes and holy water and a number of other items in her bag of tricks. He waited, wondering if she had realized yet that the vampires she would face this night would be a variety different from the rest. They wouldn't die or turn to dust, they already were dust. They were simply reconstituted dust, for lack of a better way of putting it, and they would keep reconstituting themselves until the proper action was taken.

Thinking back, Tristan remembered in passing the computer disks that Willow had insisted they make and the number of references she had made to the Tryan and the way to stop them. He only hoped the Watcher understood that Willow had tried to anticipate the fae vampire's moves in order to ready them for this.

The Summoner had however intended to be there with them, and now she was a world away, in a tiny town, in a house with a vampire that Tristan really didn't like and didn't trust. He thrust the thoughts aside, concentrating on the beautiful young woman before him. The young blonde walked over to the door of the room, and drawing in a slow calming breath; she walked through the door, no doubt readying herself for the evening of Slayer duties.

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