Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy & Co. Joss Whedon and the WB do. No copyright infringement intended.

Angel struggled futilely against the two vampires that held him captive. Every movement was painfully to his bruised body but the fear he felt as he saw Damian grab Willow by her neck overrode every other feeling. Without realizing it, Angel's face vamped and a low growl rose from his throat.

'Did you really think you could win?" Damian asked the question with childlike glee and satisfaction. He knew he had his enemies right where he wanted them. He leaned close to Willow's ear, addressing her "I've killed people stronger and smarter than you, and I've been doing it for centuries. What made you think you'd be different? You're not the first who's died by my hands on a vengeance mission. You should have just forgotten about her death. Then perhaps you would have remained alive. Oh well, too late for regrets now. Your lover over there will witness your death, and he'll have to live with that for the rest of his tortured existence. Never will he forget the image of your death, or the vampire who brought it about." Damian dropped his voice to a whisper, so that only Willow could hear his next words. "Buffy begged for mercy before I killed her. Will you beg, bright eyes?" He drank in the terror his words evoked before lowering his lips to Willow's neck.

As his fangs pierced the delicate skin of Willow's throat, Angel thrashed violently against his captives. Angel screamed out her name as Damian tore her throat out. The blood that poured forth sprayed outward and Angel felt himself covered in the sticky liquid.

Unable to control their hold on Angel, one of the vampires picked up a piece of scrap metal from the factory floor and knocked Angel over the head with it. The last thing Angel saw before losing consciousness was Willow's lifeless body falling to the ground.

Angel wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally regained consciousness. Without even looking around, Angel knew the factory was empty. There wasn't a sound to be heard besides that of the rats moving about. Angel began to push himself up onto all fours when he noticed that he was lying in a pool of blood. At first he wondered if it was his but when he looked up he noticed the source laying less than three feet away from him, her slight body crumpled on the floor like that of a discarded rag doll.

Crawling on his hands and knees, Angel reached her side and scooped her into his arms. Pulling her close to his chest, Angel tried the best he could to wipe the blood off of her face. Her eyelids law heavy against her cheek. Her expression was so serene she could have been sleeping. There was no trace of the violence that had been done to her. She looked as beautiful as he had ever seen her, which made the pain of losing her all the more stronger. He knew that he loved her. It had taken her death for him to admit it but it was no less true for it. For years he had held on to the memory of his love for Buffy and in the process he had blinded himself to a new love. A love which had been there for awhile, but one which he had never had the pleasure of indulging in, and now never would.

Surprised, Angel felt tears staining his cheeks. He hadn't realized he had begun to cry. The last time he had given in to the indulgence of tears had been four years ago when Buffy had been murdered. Like then, he cried for a lost love, only this time it was for a love that he would never be able to share. He would never be able to tell Willow how he felt. She would never know how grateful he was to have known her, nor would she know just how much he loved her.

Angel was so consumed by his grief he failed to notice the figure standing next to him until he spoke. "She was a beautiful soul. The world will truly miss her." Whistler knelt down beside Angel, removing his hat out of respect. "Destiny had its hand on her shoulder. She was to have done great things."

"She still can, " Angel whispered.

Whistler shook his head. "No, she can't. Her destiny runs with God now."

"No. It doesn't have to be that way." He looked at Whistler, unashamed by the tears in his eyes. "You can bring her back. She doesn't deserve to die this young. She's never done anything but good in her life. It's not fair!"

"You know, you're the last person I ever expected to hear speak so naively. You disappoint me my friend."

"I love her," Angel offered the confession as if it were the key to bringing Willow back.

Whistler stopped smiling, "I know. And so did she."

"How could she know? I never got a chance to tell her."

"She knew in her heart. And where she is now, she knows."

'That's not good enough." Ignoring Whistler, Angel turned his attention back to the body in his arms. He pressed his forehead against hers, marveling at how warm her skin still was. "If only we had stayed in Sunnydale. If only I had talked her out of tracking down Damian. If only I had told her how I felt long ago. We could have been happy together. She would still be alive."

Whistler listened quietly to Angel's fervent regrets and his repetitive mumbled confessions of love. Whistler allowed Angel his time for grieving.

It was the least he could do for him.

Angel laid in the dark of the room he and Willow had shared. Three days had passed since her death and Angel had spent every moment since then locked in the room. Angel would never have guessed the depth of depression that would begin to consume him. Angel didn't even have the will left to kill himself though it was the only conceivable end to his despair.

Whistler let himself into the hotel room after it became obvious that Angel wasn't going to respond to his knocking. "S'okay man, I'll let myself in." Whistler stepped into the room, taking in the darkness and the immobile figure of Angel on the bed. "Lucky for you I'm a demon and darkness doesn't affect me cause if had tripped over any of this shit you had piled on the floor I'd have to kill you." Whistler stepped over a broken lamp. "Way to trash the room. You do realize of course that you're gonna have to pay for all this."

Angel kept his back turned, ignoring Whistler's approach to the bed. "I've got to say, I've never seen you this bad before bro. Not even when I first came to you." When Angel continued not to answer Whistler pressed on. "You know this isn't how Willow would have wanted things to be right."

Angel tensed up. "No, she wouldn't."

"Well, at least I've got you talking. Look, I've been doing some thinking, and well, I wouldn't do this for anyone but you. You helped me out with the slayer thing all those years ago so I figure I should do something for you." Confused, Angel turned to face Whistler. "It's dangerous though. If you're not careful you can alter the destiny of the world, and I'm not saying this to be melodramatic. I couldn't send you back to save Buffy from being killed- that was part of her destiny- but Willow's death wasn't planned- you can go back and fix that. You've just gotta be sure you don't alter anything else."

"Are you saying you can send me back in time?"

"It's not what you're thinking. It's not like that Back To the Future shit where there's gonna be the past you and the future you and if you meet the world will explode. That's not the way time works. There's only one Angel, one soul. But as time progresses your soul expands as its awareness grows. I can send some of your soul's awareness back to a former you. Your soul of the present will share it's awareness with your past soul, though you won't realize consciously it's happening. Look, the logistics of it are complicated, but basically you'll be able to alter the future by changing the past. If you can tell Willow you love her then she won't face Damian and she won't be killed. The future will be changed for the better, if you ask me."

Angel blinked, the possibilities of what Whistler was proposing not quite sinking in. "You mean I can save Willow's life just by telling her that I love her? But that's easy!" Angel shot up from the bed, bouncing with childlike exuberance. "Well come on, send me back already."

"Hold on their cowboy, it's not that simple. You can't just go back their and declare your love for her the second you see her. I don't even think you'd be able to. Your soul may have a greater awareness but it won't be conscious until the right moment. The time in which fate splits and the path chosen will seal yours and Willow's destiny. Only at that moment will you be able to confess your love to Willow and change the course of fate."

"So basically my soul will just know when the time is right? And what if it doesn't?"

"It's your best chance Angel, I never said it was a perfect solution, it's a gamble. I would think you'd be willing to take it."

"Of course I am, so how do we do this?"

Whistler studied Angel's enthusiastic face. "I can't believe I'm risking this for you. All right, all you need to do is go to sleep. I'll guide your soul into the past. When it's done you'll wake up and if you're successful, well, you'll know."

Angel lay back on the bed. He had never been more anxious to fall asleep in his life. As he began to drift off he realized he hadn't thanked Whistler. 'Thank you Whistler, for everything."

Whistler smiled, "Just don't fail Angel. Willow's counting on you." Those were the last words Angel heard before he fell into sleep.

Sunnydale Cemetery September 26, 2002

Willow stood between Xander and Giles, her eyes locked on the polished black coffin being lowered into the ground. Willow wondered if people thought it was strange that she wasn't crying- after all, it was one of her best friends who was being buried. Well, they could think whatever they wanted. Willow had gotten all her crying over with in private. She was all cried out now, which was just as well because right now she couldn't afford tears. She had to be strong for Xander and Giles. They needed her strength now, and that was more important than indulging in her own feelings of pain and loss.

As the service ended, Willow took hold of both Giles and Xander's hands and led them away from the graveside. They had walked only a few feet, Xander with tears running down his cheeks and Giles in a sort of shocked silence, when Cordelia joined them.

"I'm so sorry I was late and couldn't be beside you for the service Xander." She stepped forward and he crumpled into her arms, crying on her shoulder. Willow was surprised when Cordelia made not one comment about his tears ruining her expensive Italian jacket. She merely held him in her arms, stroking his back while he indulged in an emotional breakdown.

Willow turned to survey the emptying cemetery with her eyes. She did a double take when she noticed a lone figure standing by the fresh grave. Though his back was to her, Willow recognized the hunched figure as Angel. Without hesitation, Willow moved to join him.

She was half way to the grave when Angel fell to his knees, his hands gripping either side of his head. Willow broke out into a run and was at his side in seconds. Bending down so her face was level with his face, Willow placed a self-conscious hand on his shoulder and stared at his face. He toppled backward, dragging Willow with him, so that they were both seated on the damp earth. His eyes were firmly shut, his lips parted as though he needed to let air in.

"Angel, it's okay. I'm here for you." The words sounded silly even to Willow's own ears but they were all she could think to say. She had no idea how to protect him from the pain Buffy's death must be causing him. She had no idea what to say, so she would just be there for him, wait for him to speak, to tell her what he needed.

Angel opened his eyes slowly. He stared blankly into the distance, seemingly oblivious to her next to him or to her hand on his shoulder. He removed his hands from his head and held them out before him, studying his palms. His study was like that of a man who had escaped death and had to verify life through the flesh and bones of his own body. His eyes roamed downward, taking in his body and clothing, then slowly turning towards her. His eyes were wide, the pupils fully dilated. He looked almost as if he wasn't sure where he was. <I guess Giles isn't the only one who's still in shock. >

"Willow?" He seemed surprised to see her there, though why she couldn't imagine. "What just happened?"

Willow stared at him doubtfully, not quite sure what he meant. "I'm sorry Angel, I don't know what you mean. Are you talking about Buffy's funeral?"

Angel shook his head, the same dazed expression still on his face. "I just, I don't know what happened. I was standing in front of Buffy's grave, thinking of her and about what a beautiful funeral it was, and then, well, my vision began to blur to the point of I couldn't see anything in front of me. All of a sudden I felt this wrenching in my soul, like I was being torn in two from the inside." Angel's eyes got a faraway look in them, as though he was inside himself, contemplating. "It wasn't painful exactly, I don't know if I can explain how it felt exactly. I think I must have blacked out because once I could see again, you were here and we were on the ground."

Willow stared at Angel with sad, wise eyes. "I don't know Angel, all I can guess is that the day is finally taking its toll on you. Perhaps Buffy's death is finally hitting you. You could be having an emotional overload. I'm not really sure, I'm not an expert on these things. But what I do know is I should get you home."

Willow regarded Willow with a smirk. "You should get me home? Funny, I figured I'd be the one accompanying you home for protection tonight."

Willow couldn't help but smile back at him, chuckling at their reversal of roles. "Sometimes the protector needs to be protected themselves. And I think you could use a friend right now. We both can." Willow stood up, brushing dirt from the back of her skirt, then reached down to grab Angel's hand and pull him to his feet. She smiled at Angel, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes 'Now Angel, first things first. Will this be your place or mine."

Angel laughed loudly, glad that he wouldn't have to spend the night alone, fighting his inner demons and wallowing in his misery. Wrapping his arm around Willow's shoulders they made their way towards the waiting figures of Xander, Giles and Cordelia. "Lead the way milady, the choice is yours."

Willow's House

Willow decided it was best if they skipped the reception at Mrs. Summer's house after the funeral. Though she had managed to get Angel smiling, she knew he was in a delicate state and that being around people, especially people sitting around remembering Buffy, wasn't the best therapy for him right now. They said good bye to Xander, Giles and Cordelia at the cemetery and went over to Willow's house.

After verifying her parents hadn't returned from their business trip early, Willow led Angel up to her room. Willow waved her arm as sign for Angel to make himself at home while she kicked off her heels and tried to make herself more comfortable. Willow sighed as her feet were set free from the binding leather of her Italian heels. <Ah, the price women pay to be beautiful. I never thought I'd fall victim to it, but those shoes are just so cute. Too bad they make me feel like I'm a victim of Chinese foot binding whenever I wear them. >

Willow pulled grabbed some clothing from the open suitcase on the bed and made her way to the bathroom "Just give me a sec to change Angel. I'm afraid these stockings will become a second skin if I keep them on one minute more." With a fast smile she exited the room, leaving Angel standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets. Angel's gaze couldn't help but wander down to take in Willow's shapely legs as she walked out. <The last year certainly has been good for Willow. > Embarrassed by his own lecherous thoughts, Angel turned his gaze Willow's childhood room. His eyes traveled over dresser tops and bookcases, his mind marveling at how familiar this room was to him even though it had been 3 years since his last visit.

Angel stood in front of Willow's dresser, surveying the clutter as if it held hidden revelations of this enigmatic woman he couldn't get out of his mind. During the drive to her house, Angel had been captivated by the changes he could see both on and underneath the surface. As they chatted about their lives for the past 3 years, getting reacquainted, Angel had been amused and bewildered by a woman whom he realized he would have to get to know all over again. The girl who had left Sunnydale, still a bit naïve despite all she had seen during her friendship with the slayer, was gone. In her place was a confident, charming, beautiful woman. The idea of rediscovering Willow Rosenberg excited him and distracted him from the melancholy thoughts that haunted the edges of his mind, threatening to send him into despair. Fiddling with the various cosmetics strewn over the dresser top, Angel pushed the threatening emotions into the recesses of his mind and decided to concentrate on renewing an old friendship, one that could possibly save him from himself.

Willow reentered the room dressed in a pair of jeans and a black sweater with a plunging neckline that caused Angel's eyes to linger on the pale flesh exposed by it. Smiling, Willow disentangled Angel's fingers from a tube of lipstick and led him over to the bed. Shoving her open suitcase over, Willow and Angel settled onto the bed, their thighs and knees touching. Angel tensed, hyper aware of every point of contact between their bodies, his eyes returning to the neckline of her sweater. <My, my, my, it looks like little Willow has done a lot more than emotional growth these past few years. > A rush of shame filled Angel over his thoughts. This was Willow he was thinking about, not to mention the fact that it was the day of his love's funeral. <Can't get more sleazy than that. >

Willow, seemingly oblivious to the racy nature and self-condemnation of Angel's thoughts, was speaking and Angel forced himself to bring his eyes up to her face and listen to her words. "... as I said before, I wasn't sure if you'd show up to the funeral or not. I told Mrs. Summer's it would be best if it was held at night in case you wanted to come but, well, no one had heard from you since it had happened so I wasn't sure. I kind of hoped you would show up though. It's no good for you to be alone at a time like this and?" Willow blushed softly as she realized she'd been babbling for awhile "am I being totally insensitive by talking about this now. We don't have to, I mean, we can always talk about, well, something else. I'd understand if you didn't want to think or talk about you know- it" Angel sighed, his voice heavy with sadness. 'I was kind of hoping we could skip over this part, you know, where we both talk about how much we miss Buffy, and how much we loved her, cause then I'd probably end up crying and well, call me old-fashioned but I don't really like to do that in front of women. Most guy's from my century tend not to like that."

Willow smirked, "Guys from this century don't either. Must be something in the genes." Willow cocked her head to the side, her long hair falling around her like a veil as she studied Angel's face. "We don't have to talk about Buffy if you don't want to. I've done all my crying over her death. It's something I knew would happen someday, though I have to admit I never imagined it would be so soon. If I'd known I'd have never?" Willow broke off mid-sentence, chuckling to herself, "there I go talking about her when I just agreed we didn't have to. So, I'm going to leave conversation up to you. You pick the conversation now. Whatever you want to talk about, or not talk about for that matter, is entirely up to you." Willow shifted her position on the bed slightly. Now she was leaning back against the mountain of pillows that framed the bed, but her leg was still pressed against Angel's, a fact that didn't escape his notice.

"Well, how about we talk about you."

Willow looked surprised. "Me? What about me?"

"Well, for one thing you can tell me where the Willow Rosenberg we all knew and loved has gone. Not that I'm complaining," he rushed on when he saw her beginning to open her mouth, presumably to deny his statements. "Now don't go jumping to conclusions Willow. You look beautiful, as I'm sure you know. Not that that's what I mean. You were always beautiful, even if guys were too dumb in high school to realize it, except Oz of course." A strange expression Angel couldn't quite read flickered across her face when he said that. He knew her and Oz had broken up 2 years earlier and he wondered if the expression had to do with her missing him. He couldn't be sure.

"But there's something else. You've grown up Willow. You're?" Angel struggled for the words to describe what he meant without coming off as insulting. "Well, you're grown up, I suppose. You're more open, carefree even. At least it seems that way from what I've seen so far." Willow blushed and Angel realized with a shock that he was flirting. He hadn't meant for that to sound so forward, though he couldn't deny that he was very attracted to Willow and it wasn't her obvious beauty. There was an inner glow to her, one that had always been there only now it was stronger, more penetrating. It made Angel sit up and take notice. She exuded warmth that wrapped around him and gave him comfort. It was quite peaceful to be in her presence. Watching her now, deep red coloring invading her pale cheeks, Angel felt an overwhelming urge to reach over and caress her cheek. Her full lips beckoned his.

"Well, Angel, it has been 3 years since we've seen each other. I mean, I'm 21. I would hope that I've done some growing up since you knew me. I hope you're not expecting some grand tale of an incident that sparked the changes in me, cause there isn't one." Willow paused for a moment and Angel waited for her to continue. "I suppose life just changed me. Living on the hellmouth changed me in that it made me bolder and surer of myself. I was forced to confront feelings and situations I never had before. Yet even then I never had to do anything alone. I always had Xander and Buffy with me. We took care of each other. Then, when I left for MIT and Xander went away to Penn State, and Buffy stayed here, well, I was finally alone. I had to take care of myself, without either of their protection. It's not like I've had to face any demons while in Boston," Angel couldn't help but smile back at this "but I've had to face life, normal life, and I've had to do it on my own. That kind of situation would change anyone. So, here I am. Willow Rosenberg, new and improved, for better or for worse."

This time Angel didn't suppress his urge to reach out to her. Leaning forward, he pulled her into his arms. He wanted to comfort her, the way she had years ago when things had been going badly for him and Buffy. She'd been there for him then, and she'd been there for him tonight at the cemetery. Now it was his turn. He slipped a hand underneath her hair, cupping her head towards him till her cheek lay against his shoulder. He moved closer until her body fit perfectly against his. She wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes when he began to stroke the top of her head.

"Definitely for better Willow."

Vampiric instinct forced Angel up an hour before sunrise. Past experience had taught Angel to always make sure he was well protected from the sun's deadly rays before allowing himself to fall asleep, and if he was asleep he always managed to wake up before the sunrise. He'd programmed himself to be cautious and it had saved his life more than once. One look at the huge bay window reminded him that he had better get going if he wanted to make it back to his apartment in time.

Reluctantly, Angel sat up, being careful as he disentangled himself from Willow's sleeping body. Since he didn't want to wake her, it took him awhile to free himself from Willow's arms, which were wrapped around his waist tightly. Angel found himself staring at Willow's face. It was hard for most people to let go of their emotions while sleeping, but Willow seemed to have no trouble. Her expression was one of the most peaceful he had ever seen. All tears from earlier that night were gone. Her breathing was slow and steady, her lips curved in a slight smile.

They'd only fallen asleep less than an hour earlier. The entire night and early morning had been spent lying in bed, their faces so close he had been able to feel her words more than hear them. Nothing had happened, at least not anything like what his fantasies of early that evening had been urging him to do. Something else had happened, something even more magical, or at least Angel thought so.

Last night had been the first night he had ever truly opened up to a woman, without any reservations. Angel wasn't sure what had happened. All he knew was that, without realizing it, he was telling Willow every secret he had held locked up in his heart. And she was doing the same. He had told her all about his family, and she had told him about hers. They talked about past heartaches, him listening quietly as Willow poured out her heart, telling him about her recent break up with a fellow MIT student named Julian. Willow had believed that he had been the one she was meant to spend the rest of her life with, but they had broken up less than a month ago when she found him in, as she put it, the most "soap opera cliched situation in history- in bed with my roommate." In his mind, Angel had imagined the slow torturous death he would inflict on this guy for breaking Willow's heart, but he merely held her, allowing her to cry on his shoulder.

They'd talked about Buffy but the real breakthrough had come when he told her everything he had gone through during his time in Hell. Not since he had returned had Angel spoken of that time. His mind had shut down whenever Buffy had brought up the subject. He had never been able to deal with that time, and so she had never known what he had gone through. But he told Willow. They had been laughing over an anecdote involving Xander's last visit to MIT when he had started to tell her about it. Once he started to talk about it he couldn't stop, and Willow had been so supportive, taking in his pain as if it were her own, that he hadn't wanted to stop.

He told her everything. She was now the one person alive, living or dead, who knew him as well as he knew himself. <It felt so right, lying besides her, telling her everything. I never knew I could feel that way. To be so free, just from sharing myself with another person. I don't think I can ever thank her for what she's done for me. >

He covered Willow with the blanket lying at the foot of the bed, brushing a strand of hair off of her face and stepped back, away from the bed.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was no longer touching her, no longer felt the burning warmth of her skin, or perhaps it was the rising sun that cleared his mind, but as he stood over her, fear trickled in to his heart. There was something wrong with the way he was feeling. The first light of the day was illuminating his emotions, and their strength scared him. He didn't want to leave her, not now, not ever. His heart was aching at the thought. Yet, right beside that was guilt. It hadn't been there before because he hadn't thought through the implications of their night together. But it was here now. Here he was, only a week after Buffy's death, spending the night with another woman, hurting because he was leaving that other woman. And not just any woman. This one was Buffy's best friend, his friend. He was betraying Buffy in the oldest and worst way imaginable.

He loved Buffy still and she didn't deserve to have him feeling whatever it was that he was feeling. He had to stop it, before it was too late. With that thought he turned and left, fleeing from Willow and the power she had over his heart. He ran home, trying to forget her touch and the sound of her voice. He filled his thoughts with Buffy, and prayed to a god he wasn't sure existed to release him from the hold Willow had on him, praying, also, that it wasn't too late.

New York City October 24, 2004

Switching off her computer, Willow slipped into her jacket and gathered up her stuff. She was anxious to get out of the office, which was a rarity for Willow. Although most people hated their jobs and were anxious for the 5:00 whistle to set them free, Willow actually enjoyed her job. Loved it in fact. She supposed that if she was working in a field she hated then she'd be like most people. However, not only was Willow working for one of the most successful computer companies in the world, at 23 she was the fastest rising employee in the history of the company. She'd already been made a Junior VP after less than a year with the company, and it wouldn't be long before Willow rose even higher.

Today was different though. In less than twenty minutes Willow was to meet Kaitlyn in Washington Square Park so they could go shopping for their Halloween costumes. They were cutting it short and it was mostly Willow's fault. She just couldn't make up her mind. She knew that her outfit had to be perfect for Robert's party on Friday night. <Maybe Kaitlyn's right and I should just get that Mae West costume we saw at Ruby's. It looked great on me, and those slits up the sides are sure to make Robert sit up and take notice. >

Caught up in her fantasies of Robert, Willow made her way through the office towards the elevators, absently saying good night to her co-workers. <Let's see. Should Robert and I spend our honeymoon in Greece or the Cayman islands? >

Willow was so caught up in her fantasy that when the elevator opened onto the 20th floor and Robert stepped in to the elevator Willow thought it was part of her fantasy and she almost wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hello. Fortunately some shred of sanity held her back and saved her from total embarrassment and the hardship of having to leave the country and find a job in Burma.

"Willow! Just the woman I wanted to see." Robert's eyes crinkled up as he smiled that heart-stopping smile that made him the number one most fantasized about guy in the office. Willow knew for a fact that the girls in accounting kept the picture of his from the company newsletter posted on their department bulletin board. What, with this smoldering hazel eyes, sable soft hair that was a color that could only be described as golden, and cheekbones to die for it wasn't hard to see why. Add on top of that his lithe, muscled body and you had yourself the perfect dream guy to wile away those long workdays.

Willow tried to cover up her staring by speaking, "Let me guess. You have a deadline coming up and you want me to help you meet it."

Robert's smile got even wider and more adorable, causing Willow's heart to flutter inside her chest. "How is it you always know what I'm thinking? You know, one of these days, or nights, you're gonna have to tell me how you can read my mind like that."

Willow felt herself blushing at his flirting. Not that it was unexpected. There wasn't a girl in the office, or New York City for that matter, whom Robert didn't flirt with. It was almost second nature to him, and Willow knew it. Still, that didn't stop her from holding on to the hope that with her it was different, that he meant it when he flirted with her.

"Maybe it's just that every time you have some project due you come to me and beg me to help you finish it. Just to take a wild stab at it." Pushing past Robert, Willow made her way towards the building parking lot.

Robert hurried to keep in step with her. "You got me there. But can I help it if you're the most brilliant woman I've ever met. Plus, when you help me with my work I get to spend the night alone with a beautiful woman. What more could a guy ask for?"

Willow fumbled with the keys to her BMW, almost dropping them at his words.

"So, why are you in such a hurry. I figured you'd be in the office for at least another hour or two. Hot date?" His eyes twinkled as he teased her, a lock of silky hair falling across his forehead. Willow had to suppress the urge to brush it back for him.

"Sure, if you consider a night with Kaitlyn to be a hot date." Willow swore to herself even as the words were coming out. <God forbid you let him think you were going out with a guy Willow. Oh no, he has to know just how pathetic your love life is. >

Robert just kept on smiling. "I wonder if Kaitlyn knows how lucky she is, getting to spend the evening with you? Hey, you two are coming to my Halloween party next week right?"

Willow merely nodded, not trusting her brain to come up with a clever response. Robert stepped forward until Willow was backed up against the car door and there was less than a foot between them. "That's good. The party wouldn't be complete without you there." Willow's breath caught in her throat as he leaned forward, lowering his voice to a seductive purr as he whispered into her ear "Kaitlyn may have you for tonight, but next Friday you're mine." As he pulled back, his lips brushed against Willow's cheek in the softest of kisses. Before Willow's mind could process what had just happened, Robert turned and ran back into the building.

Collapsing into the driver's seat, Willow checked out her reflection in the rearview mirror. Just as she suspected, her face was flushed fire engine red, her chest heaving with each breath. Willow couldn't help but smile as she pulled out of the parking lot. She hadn't felt this exhilarated or this excited in years. <Yep, definitely going with the Mae West costume. >

Caught up in her fantasies of Robert and the upcoming party, Willow failed to notice the figure standing in the corner of the parking lot, watching quietly as her car turned onto Madison Avenue.

Willow's Apartment October 31, 2004 9:00 PM

"Now be honest Kaitlyn. Tell me what you really think cause if you lie to me and I show up to the party looking foolish, I'll have to kill you."

"Come on Will," Kaitlyn whined, flinging herself backwards on to the bed. "I already promised to tell you how beautiful you look, so stop hiding in that closet and come out here and prove me right."

Willow placed her cheek against the cold plaster of the door, enjoying the closed off darkness and feeling of safety the tiny closet provided. <Maybe staying in here all night isn't such a bad idea. >

"Ow," Willow cried out.

Kaitlyn shot up from the bed, "What's wrong?"

"I just stepped on a pair of my high heels, "Willow whimpered, bending down to nurse her injured heel. As Kaitlyn laughed softly, Willow stumbled out of the closet. <There goes my perfect, safe hiding place. >Willow smiled wryly as she limped across the bedroom to stand self consciously in front of Kaitlyn. "So what's the verdict? Do I make a sexy Mae West or am I staying home tonight and eating all of the trick or treater's candy?"

Kaitlyn glared at Willow disapprovingly. "You look incredible, same as you did a week ago when you tried it on at Ruby's. I wish you would stop worrying so much. Didn't you tell me Robert said tonight was his night to have you? That's pretty much a date, in my humble opinion."

Willow sank onto the edge of the bed just as Kaitlyn rose. As she moved the chimes of her belt tinkled, filling the room with it's oddly pleasant sound. "Kaitlyn, you know as well as I do that Robert was just saying that because he knew it would get to me." Willow studied Kaitlyn's costume. "Maybe I should have gotten the belly dancer costume like you."

Kaitlyn grabbed Willow's jewelry box and brought it over to the bed. "Actually, I'm starting to regret wearing it myself. With these sheer pants and top, I might as well be wearing nothing at all."

"Well, you look great." Willow professed truthfully. Kaitlyn's body was curvy enough that the sheer netting of her costume flowed around her body, accentuating her figure. Though Willow's figure was no longer as tree trunk slim as it had been in high school, she was nowhere bear as voluptuous as Kaitlyn. "I'm glad you're Robert's sister and not more competition for me 'cause in that outfit there'd be no contest."

As Kaitlyn smiled, the sides of her eyes crinkling, Willow was struck by how much Kaitlyn and Robert resembled each other. Besides the same killer smile, they shared the same hazel eyes, tan skin, and golden hair. Kaitlyn's long luxurious locks fell down her back in a shower of curls that left Willow wishing her own hair had some of that body. It was funny how Willow wished for Kaitlyn's curls while Kaitlyn was always telling Willow how much she envied Willow her long straight hair. Kaitlyn had already declared the hair salon forbidden territory for Willow. 'It would be a crime to cut off such beautiful hair," Kaitlyn had declared on numerous occasions.

Despite their physical differences, Willow and Kaitlyn were actually quite similar. They had met the same week Willow had moved to New York and started her new job. Kaitlyn had come to the office to pick Rob up for dinner with their parents. Called away to a last minute meeting, Robert had left Kaitlyn with Willow to keep her company. He returned an hour later to find the two girls had become fast friends. The range of their interests, from computers, to class films, to their secret passion for Stephen King novels had given them their instant connection. The next few weeks they had spent most of their free time getting to know each other, their friendship growing stronger each day. During that time, Willow began to recognize a Kaitlyn's overwhelming similarity to Buffy. She shared Buffy's confidence and razor sharp wit, yet underneath there was a vulnerability that not many people got to see. But, above all, there was a strong sense of loyalty, one that kept their friendship strong. No matter what happened, Kaitlyn would always be there for Willow. Their friendship was one Willow would be eternally grateful for. Besides Buffy, Kaitlyn was the best girlfriend she had ever had. Willow hadn't realized how much she had missed having a close girlfriend.

Kaitlyn cleared her throat, drawing Willow's attention, "So, have you heard from Xander lately?" Kaitlyn stared at the bedspread, her eyes boring into the floral pattern.

Willow couldn't help but laugh. It never failed. Whenever Willow talked to either of them they always asked about the other. Ever since Willow had introduced the two of them during Xander's visit to NY a few months back, they had been smitten with each other. During that one week the two of them had bickered more than Xander and Cordy had in their entire four year relationship. And much like Xander and Cordy, the mutual attraction underneath their arguing had been plainly evident to Willow. It had come as no surprise when Xander spent his last night in NY at Kaitlyn's apartment. It was too bad they were both so self-conscious they couldn't talk to each other. They were both so afraid of getting hurt they refused to call, and so Willow remained their faithful go between.

Willow stood in front of her vanity, carefully applying her makeup. "As a matter of fact, he called just the other night. He says he's thinking of moving to New York. Says he doesn't want to continue at UCLA for his graduate degree and may apply to NYU. He says they've got the best film department in the country." Willow snuck a look at Kaitlyn's reflection in the mirror.

"Well, wouldn't that be great. Then you'd get to see him more often." Kaitlyn tried to keep her voice cool but her face betrayed her excitement at the prospect of Xander living in NY.

As much as Willow would have loved to take the opportunity to tease Kaitlyn, Willow found herself thinking about how nice it would be to once again live close to Xander. "Yeah, it would almost be like old times. Sometimes it's hard to live so far away from him. He's my oldest friend in the world. I mean, we grew up with each other. Even though we've both been living away from Sunnydale for almost 7 years, it seems like only yesterday we were hanging out at the Bronze." Willow smiled in reminiscence. "We used to go there just about every night in high school. Me, him, Buffy, Cordelia, Oz, Ang..." Willow busied herself with applying blush to her cheeks. "Um, I mean, sometimes I miss those old days. So, I'm just about ready here."

Willow held her breath, hoping Kaitlyn would realize she was trying to change the subject. Willow had told Kaitlyn about Angel long ago, so she knew it was a sensitive subject with Willow. What she didn't know was how not a day went by that Willow didn't think about him, in some form or context. Though Willow hadn't seen or heard from him since the night of Buffy's funeral, almost two years ago, the feelings Willow had begun to develop for him that night had yet to fade. They were feelings that Willow preferred to repress than deal with, but they were there nonetheless. Talking about them would just bring them to the surface, and Willow did not want to do that. <Just think about Robert and how excited he makes you feel; that'll stop any thoughts of Angel. Those bad thoughts of how gorgeous he looked that night, asleep on my bed when he didn't know I was watching, the way his hair was...Bad Willow! Wrong thoughts. >

Kaitlyn, being her usual perceptive yet pushy self, recognized Willow's attempt to change the subject and refused to comply.

"Ah, Angel, the god of your idolatry. I was wondering if you'd forgotten about him. You haven't brought him up in awhile."

Now it was Willow's turn to avoid Kaitlyn's gaze. She studied the glossy wood of her dresser top. "No, I haven't."

"So, you still haven't heard from him? Not even a phone call or a letter? I mean, you'd think he'd want you to at least know he was okay. Men," Kaitlyn sneered.

Willow's mind protested at Kaitlyn's negative dismissals of Angel's behavior. "No, he's not like that. He's probably just been mourning Buffy's death. Angel isn't like other guys. He's..." Willow cut her defense short when she saw Kaitlyn's raised eyebrow. 'It's just, you don't know him. He's one of the most sensitive and caring guys I've ever known. Buffy's death destroyed him. I mean, he was ready to kill himself that night."

"So, you stopped him from killing himself, spent the night listening to him pour his heart out to you, and then he leaves without a word, leaving you worried sick on whether or not his okay or not, and now you're gonna make excuses for him?"

"Dumb huh."

"No, just sounds like love."

Willow jerked her head up, 'What?"

Kaitlyn shrugged, "You can deny it all you want Will, but I can tell you're in love with this guy. You've told me how close you two got that night. How much you shared with each other. And now, here it is two years later and you're still thinking about him, making excuses for him. It's a classic case."

Willow kept quiet. She knew she couldn't deny what Kaitlyn was saying. 'You're right Kaitlyn. I fell in love with him that night." Kaitlyn smiled triumphantly. 'But, that was a long time ago. And I think it's pretty obvious that he didn't feel the same way about me. I mean, he couldn't have made himself any clearer. We got too close, he was worried that I was developing feelings for him, and rightly so, and so he left before things could get out of hand." Willow sighed. "It's probably better this way. I just hope that wherever he is he's happy." Willow glanced at the alarm clock by her bed. "Oh no! It's 10:15 already."

Kaitlyn leapt up from the bed. 'The damn village parade is gonna make traffic down here a bitch. We better jet if we want to get to the party by 11. Let's go." Kaitlyn grabbed Willow's hand and began to pull her out the door. As they put their coats on in the living room, Willow heard the phone ring.

"You wanna answer that?' Kaitlyn asked, waiting impatiently by the door.

Willow shook her head, grabbing her keys from the kitchen counter. 'Don't worry about it, the answering machine will get it. It's probably some stupid courtesy call. I get at least one a day. I think I'm on some international mailing list for courtesy calls. Besides, if we're any later some mermaid may get her claws into Robert before I get there, and of course then I'd have to kick some aquatic booty." Laughing, the two girls shut the door and rushed down the hall, chattering excitedly about the night ahead of them.

Angel listened to Willow's recorded message, his heart sinking as he realized she wasn't home. He hung up after the beep without leaving a message. <It's probably better that she's not home. What did you think you'd say to her anyway? 'Hi Willow, it's me Angel. Sorry for not calling the past 2 years, but you know how time can fly for a vampire. So, what's new with you.' > No, it was better this way. The phone was too impersonal anyway. He had to see her in person. Even if it was just to have her tell him to get lost, that she didn't want him in her life. That she was happy with that blond boyfriend of hers, the one from the parking lot. <I owe her that much. She deserves to tell me to get lost after the way I left all those years ago. I need to see her, tonight. > With new purpose, Angel got into his car, hoping he'd be able to find Willow sometime that night.