DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy & Co. Joss Whedon and the WB do. No copyright infringement intended. The lyrics quoted in this part are from "Elderly woman behind a counter in a small town" by the Pearl Jam and belong to them and whoever their record company is.

November 17, 2004

Willow couldn't help but wonder what she was doing at the Bronze. Though the club hadn't changed much in the years she'd been away, she no longer felt comfortable within its walls. It was still a teenage club and she was no longer a teenager. Not that Willow looked out place. At 23, she still looked young enough to fit in. Too bad she didn't feel the way she looked. Inside, Willow felt as if she had lived three lifetimes, and if the amount of pain she lived with counted as anything, she probably had. She sat at her corner table and watched the strange, youthful faces passing by her. She knew no one in the club, not that she had expected to. Everyone she had known and loved had left Sunnydale, like her, years ago. Her motivation for coming here hadn't been out of the hopes of seeing someone she knew. She supposed it had been nostalgia that had drawn her there. She wanted to sit and remember the way things had been, before life had intervened and changed things. Willow sipped her coffee slowly. There was no band at the bronze tonight, though Willow didn't mind. The DJ they had hired had a rather classic taste in music. Many of the songs he was playing had been popular when she in high school. At the moment an old Pearl Jam song, Willow vaguely recognized as one Oz had loved, was playing. Willow's body swayed as she let the lyrics wash over her.

Willow watched the couples dancing with sad eyes. Her eyes latched on to a trio of youths, no older than 17, dancing off to the side of the dance floor. They could have easily been her, Buffy and Xander. Willow's throat constricted painful as memories washed over her. <I miss those days so much. Things were so much simpler then. Sure we had vampires and demons to deal with, but we had each other. We were best friends, inseparable. The slayer and her faithful slayerettes. I thought nothing would ever tear us apart. How naive I was. >

Willow blinked back tears, her eyesight blurring. In her mind's eye, she could picture Buffy and Xander, as they had been 6 years ago. The image was so clear it was almost as if they were standing there beside her.

When Willow's eyes spotted the tall figure near the entrance of the Bronze, she thought he was part of her mind, a hallucination like that of Buffy and Xander. It was only when he turned to face her that she realized he was real, not an apparition from her past, but real. She paled visibly, her body shaking in recognition.

Willow's heart beat a staccato rhythm in her chest, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of him. He looked the same as he had the last time she had seen him. <Of course he would. It's not like he's aged at all. He'll always look that way, long after we're all dead and buried. He will always be the same eternally beautiful angel. >

Willow's eyes hungrily took in his dark, sable soft hair, the liquid brown warmth of his eyes. His face was all planes and angles, a study in architecture. His lips, Willow had always loved those lips, were full and pouty. Willow always found it remarkable, but also incredibly sexy, that a guy's lips could be pouty. She had always thought that particular feature was reserved for girls.

Willow could feel her body warming with desire as she took in his clothing. As usual, his shirt and pants were black. The velvet and cotton materials hung loosely on his body in a look that was incredibly flattering on his muscular frame. He looked just as good as he did in skintight leather. <Hell, who am I kidding, he'd look that good if he was wearing a burlap sack. He's too naturally gorgeous to ever look anything but. >

It was with faint horror and embarrassment that Willow realized that he was starring back at her. The expression on his face and in his eyes was unreadable to Willow. <Did he know that I was here? Is that why he came? Is he happy to see me or was he hoping we'd never see each other again? I can't blame him if he felt that way. Truth is, I've been secretly dreading and hoping for this day since we parted all those years ago. What should I do? Should I go over to him? Will he come over to me or will he pretend he doesn't see me? Oh God, why did we have to meet like this, on tonight of all nights. >

These questions and doubts raced through Willow's mind in a millisecond. Now that they were finally being reunited, Willow didn't know what to do, how to feel, how to act, what to say. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest. <God he looks so good, I don't think I realized how much I missed him till this moment. >

All the love Willow had felt for him long ago, the love she had been repressing while they had been apart, swelled up painfully in her chest. Her instincts were to run over and throw her arms around him; to bury her face in his chest and wrap herself in his protective arms. To surround herself with his reassuring presence and bask in his love. Of course, she couldn't do that now. For all she knew, his love for her had died long ago.

His face shifted, an emotion Willow couldn't identify flashing across his face. Then, before Willow could even react, he began to cross the club towards her. Keeping her face as neutral as possible, Willow waited for him to reach her table. He avoided her gaze until he was directly in front of her. When he looked up, Willow gasped at the naked emotion shinning from their depths. "Willow," he breathed, his voice husky with pent up feeling.

Willow smiled timidly, afraid she might be misreading his eyes, yet hopeful nonetheless. Her voice quivered as she opened her mouth to speak and she realized she was on the verge of tears once again.

Before she could say anything, he surged forward, pulling her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, unashamed as the tears began to fall. Burying her face into his shoulder, her cheek rubbing against soft velvet she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, "Angel."

Sunnydale, July 23, 1998

Willow supposed it was her fault that she was in this situation. She had known the dangers of being out alone at night in Sunnydale, yet she had gone against her better instincts and left the library without an escort. Her walk home was only five minutes away from school. Still, she should have waited for Buffy. But did she do the smart thing. Noooooo, of course not. Willow, the brains of the slayerettes, had done something incredibly stupid and now she was going to pay the price.

<Why did I have to be so dumb? If I had just waited for Buffy to get back from patrol she would have walked me home and everything would have been all right. Now, look at where I am. > Willow glanced down at the chains binding her feet. She tugged at her arm chains though not with any real force. She knew it was hopeless. She wasn't a slayer, she couldn't break the handcuffs and so she was stuck here, left to the fate of whatever Angelus had planned for her.

Willow decided to spend her time getting acquainted with her surroundings. It had already been a few hours since she had woken up and found herself tied to a bed. She had done the crying thing, now it was time to do the planning her escape thing.

Willow's eyes roamed over the four walls that held her captive. Though the room wasn't exactly small, she could see she was going to develop a serious case of cabin fever if she had to stay in here. There were absolutely no windows and the only door was a heavy iron door that looked as if it was a good 2 tons of steel. The only furnishings in the room were the bed she laid on, a dresser, a bare desk with a chair, and an armchair in the corner. <Jeez, you'd think Angelus would be more considerate of where he keeps his prisoners. A little courtesy, is that too much to ask for? >

Willow knew she her thoughts had a surreal, almost insane quality to them but she was on the brink of a nervous breakdown and this was the best way to stave off insanity. <Gotta keep the thoughts lighthearted. Who knows how much longer I have left to live? >

Now that Willow thought about it, she had no idea how long she had been chained up in this room. She had no idea what day it was or how much time had passed. The last thing she remembered was Angelus attacking her when she was a few blocks away from home. Before she even knew what was happening he had knocked her unconscious. The last thing she could remember was him saying "ready to have some fun little tree." Then, a few hours earlier, she had woken up in this room, but this could very well be days later. <Everyone must be so worried about me. I just hope that Angelus doesn't flaunt my death in Buffy's face. She's gonna blame herself enough, she doesn't need to carry even more guilt around with her. >

Willow jumped at the sound of metal scrapping metal. Her pears perked up as she realized it was the sound of a key turning in the lock. <Uh oh, am I supposed to be happy that I'm no longer alone or terrified cause I'm no longer alone? I'm thinking terrified. >

Willow moved to cover her ears against the noise of the door being opened but was hindered by the handcuffs. Willow struggled against her bonds as the door opened to reveal Angelus framed by the doorway. Willow's heart beat like a jackhammer in her chest. <Oh God, I don't want to die this way. Not at Angelus's hands. I wonder what he'll do to me. Hopefully nothing too painful, but judging by these chains and knowing him what he has planned for me is bound to be a fate worth than death. >

Angel leaned against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest, grinning at his captive. "Well, well, well, look who's finally woken up. I was beginning to think you were out for good and we weren't gonna be able to have any fun. You sure are a deep sleeper, little tree."

Willow tensed as he shoved the door closed effortlessly. He crossed the room with the stalking, languid movements of a natural born predator. Willow's body tensed as he reached her side and sat down at the edge of the bed, leaning over her. Angelus chuckled at her response. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you... much."

Fear gripped Willow's heart and she wondered if perhaps she'd have a heart attack before Angelus could do anything to her. Willow almost hoped that would happen, for it was certain to be quicker and less painful than what Angelus would do to her. <Maybe Buffy will save me. She'll find where Angelus is keeping me and stop him before he hurts me. > These thoughts did nothing to ease Willow's fear. Deep down she knew Buffy wouldn't be able to find her. Angelus was too smart to have stored her somewhere Buffy could discover her. Then there's was that crack about her being a deep sleeper. Willow suspected she had been unconscious for awhile, which meant that if Buffy was going to discover and save her she would have done it by now.

As if reading her mind, Angelus chuckled and said, "Don't get your hopes up about some great rescue from the slayer. Nobody knows this hiding place, not even Spike or Dru. I could keep you here for years and no one would ever find it, so if you're hoping for some brilliant rescue by your blond knight don't bother. It ain't happening babe."

Willow couldn't help the question that formed on her lips, "What are you going to do with me?"

Angel cocked his head to the side as if considering the question. He smiled a slow, Cheshire cat grin. He placed a cold palm on Willow's thigh, stroking the skin through her stockings with strong, nimble fingers. "All in good time Willow dear, all in good time." Willow's leg bucked in response to his touch and he laughed. "That's right, fight me hacker. I don't want you to lose that fire. It'll only make my victory so much sweeter when I do conquer you." Angel brought his other hand up to pluck a strand of her hair between two fingers. "Hmmm, hot like Fire and lava. I wonder where else on you I can find that fire." As he spoke, the hand he had placed on her thigh crept higher, slipping under her skirt to give her inner thigh a hard squeeze.

Willow's eyes widened in unabashed terror as she realized what he meant. Terror gave Willow renewed strength as she continued to struggle helplessly against the bonds, trying desperately to jerk her body out of his reach.

Angel shifted with Willow's movements. Placing a hand on her stomach he pushed her body down with one hard thrust that kept her lower body still as he climbed on to the bed and straddled her legs. His pelvis rested comfortably against her upper thighs. Draping his upper body over Willow's, he nestled his face in Willow's throat, applying delicate, feather light kisses to the skin below her ear. Willow continued to struggle against her captor but this only served to delight him further. Willow could feel his erection pressing against her leg.

<This can't be happening to me, this is just not happening to me. I know; I'm really at home in bed and this is some horrible dream. All right, wake up, Willow, wake up now. Dream's over. >

As Willow's mind went through the process of denial, Angelus continued his oral assault of her throat. "Hmm, so soft. Has anyone ever told you that, how soft the skin of your throat is." His lust filled eyes roamed up to lock on to Willow's terror filled ones. "Have I ever told you what turns me on Willow? I mean besides the fear and struggles of my victims." He waited for Willow's response, his eyes sparkling as she shook her head limply back and forth. "Innocence. I love to play with a lily-white youth whose soul is so pure it shines brighter than the sun. Nothing thrills me more than to break the spirit of someone who possesses the charms of youth and innocence. A person just like you, Willow." As his hand crept up to caress Willow threw her panties, Willow screamed. "Help! Somebody please help me!"

Willow screamed at the top of her lungs for about 2 minutes before her dehydration made her voice grow hoarse and she was forced to stop. Gasping for breath, Willow realized that Angelus was making no move to stop her, but was merely smiling down at her in amusement. "You can scream as much as you want Willow. You'll only succeed in further exhausting yourself. I assure you the room is quite soundproof and the area isolated. There's nobody to save you; there will be nobody to save you. I'm afraid you're just gonna have to accept the fact that you're stuck here with me."

Willow gasped for the breath to whisper, "Where is here?"

Angel wagged his finger dismissively, clucking his tongue. "Now, now, that would be telling." Angel moved to lay on top of Willow, his knees and thighs measuring up to her, his pelvis pressed against her. Propping himself up on to his elbows, he stared down at her, drinking in her terror. Willow yelped in surprise as he thrust his lower body against hers. "Don't worry Willow, this won't hurt... much."

His lips descended on to her throat once again. Trailing kisses down the ridge of her jaw, he settled his mouth directly over her pulse point. Willow shivered at the feel of his cold tongue licking the skin. Then, before Willow's brain could even process what was about to happen, she felt a sharp stinging as his fangs pierced her throat.

Willow's eyes fluttered shut as pain over took her. Angel's lips were barely brushing against her skin, yet his teeth were firmly lodged in her throat. It was nothing like getting your blood drawn at the doctor, or like having a cut from which your blood gushes forth. His mouth created a forceful suction as he suckled her throat. Her blood burned as it churned through her veins, flowing towards her throat and into his mouth.

Willow grew more languid with every passing second. The pain slowly subsided as her senses dulled. Willow stopped struggling against Angelus simply because she no longer had the strength. As Willow slipped into unconsciousness, her last thoughts were of Angel and she wondered if she'd be joining his soul wherever it was.