Rating: FRAO/NC-17 (for references to rape and explicit sex)
Summary: Angel is about to take Willow and leave Sunnydale forever. But will it really be that easy?
This was written for the whichwillow ficathon for the prompt: "What if nobody had been there to save Willow when Angelus grabbed her in the hallway?"
Feedback: Please. Thank you.
Distribution: For now, just here and my site. (Oh, and whichwillow, of course)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people who are not now and have never been me.
Author's Notes: This fic is dedicated, in its entirety, to purplefeen (especially since it will be her birthday in two days...HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!), lilbreck, and sexymermaid. They know why. I would also like to dedicate this to emnorth and kitty_poker1 for being such amazing cheerleaders and friends. You guys are awesome. And special thanks to my readers, the most patient and loyal bunch of folks in the world. You are also awesome. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope the ending satisfies.
Author's Notes Two: This chapter also fulfills the requirements at tamingthemuse as I utilized the prompt asylum herein.
Escape Me Never Chapter Ten
It was nine-fifteen in the evening and Xander had not come. Angel wasn’t sure if Willow was disappointed. It wasn’t often that he couldn’t read her emotions, but today had been one of those times. She had an aura of anticipation, but Angel couldn’t tell whether it was because they were leaving tonight on their “vacation” or whether it was because she was hoping Xander would walk through the door today as he had promised. He certainly hoped it was the former.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough to worry about, after all. Their bags were packed and tucked away in a downstairs closet, no one but he and Willow were aware that they were going anywhere, but Angel was still nervous that something would happen to throw a spanner in the works. Giles and Jenny were also no-shows so far, but unlike Xander, they were sure to pay a call at the mansion tonight. What if they arrived late enough to encounter the car and driver who would be coming to take him and Willow to the airport?
He was pacing. Two hours and fifteen minutes from now, he and Willow would be on their way to their new life. Two hours and fourteen minutes...was he so unstrung that he was reduced to counting minutes? He could not recall feeling anxiety like this since his human days. He was wiping his hands on his trousers, the ghost of perspiration from centuries past on his palms. That instinct was something he’d thought long gone. Apparently it was not. Amazing how human he could feel while not the least bit human at all. Though he really shouldn’t have been surprised; fear was something even demons experienced.
It was almost a relief when he heard the knock at the door. Truthfully, there was no almost about it. The fact that he could get this last unwelcome encounter out of the way long before the chauffeur would be there was enough to make him thank whatever god answered the prayers of souled vampires.
As he approached the door, however, it occurred to him that there was one thing he hadn’t taken into account. Willow. Would she reveal the news of their imminent departure to her one-time mentors? Of course, she had yet to speak to them during any of their previous visits, but there was always a first time, and there were other ways she could give the game away. If she acted suspiciously, if she seemed so different that it aroused curiosity, if...Angel’s paranoia almost overwhelmed him. If he wasn’t careful, he would be the one who gave the game away.
“Good evening, Jenny. Giles.”
“Good evening, Angel.”
Giles matched him in formality and Angel could hear the unspoken “us” at the end of his name. The man still saw him as a soulless demon - as the enemy. Angel found it provoking, but at the same time, he had to concede that it spoke well of Giles’ intelligence. Angel was, in fact, his foe, at least in all matters pertaining to Willow, though in Angel’s view, it was Giles who was the villain.
“Angel.”
Jenny was terse as usual, her distrust and hatred as constant and dependable as that of her lover. They were so well-matched that Angel felt sorry that their romance was doomed to disaster. Under other circumstances, he would have felt some sympathy, but now? Now he only wished he would be there to see Giles once his lady had gone. Would he find Buffy and her teenage drama a worthwhile trade-off for a warm body to lie next to at night? Angel figured the answer to that question would be no. Just how much scotch would it take to dull the pain?
“Why don’t I go get Willow?”
“Yes, that would be good of you.”
There was that exaggerated formality again. And was that sarcasm Angel detected in the man’s tone? Not that it mattered.
Willow was in the kitchen eating a light meal and Angel went there directly to fetch her. He only hoped she’d keep to her usual habit of silence and not be moved to speak upon realizing that Angel wasn’t informing their visitors of their impending “vacation.”
“Willow? Giles and Jenny are here. They’d like to see you.”
She swallowed the last bite of her sandwich and got up, took his hand, and let him lead her back to the front room. Angel wanted to say something, to caution her, but he didn’t. The risk of being overheard combined with his fear that she might become suspicious of his motives and thus be inspired to speak when she would not have otherwise stilled his tongue. He was going to have to take his chances and hope that everything went well.
“Willow. You look lovely this evening.”
Jenny said that every time she saw her. Angel agreed with her assessment, but still, it rang hollow when the same words were always used and this time Angel fancied he picked up a hint of irritation from the girl he loved. Good job, Jenny. Patronizing and phony is definitely the way to go when trying to win someone over. Willow said nothing, though, simply kept her eyes downcast. She did not let go of his hand.
“How are you feeling tonight?”
If Giles thought he was going to do any better at starting up a conversation than his insincere ladylove, he was sorely mistaken. Willow’s eyes stayed on the floor, her hand in Angel’s, and her tongue silent.
“Willow was eating when you arrived, “ Angel said, feigning an awkward manner and uncertainty of what to say to match theirs. “She’s quite a fan of my cooking.” He looked at Willow in what he hoped was a fond, fatherly way.
“You seem to have become quite domestic. Do you do windows, too?”
Jenny’s acid tone and undisguised contempt were a bit surprising. Something in her eyes told him she’d tumbled to his disingenuousness, but she’d chosen the wrong way to respond. She’d lost sight of Willow’s feelings, her enmity for him taking over. No matter what name she used, she was Janna Kalderash through and through. He was almost surprised by that, astounded that anyone could hate him more than they could love Willow.
The ring of a cell phone startled him. For a moment he was wondering how he could manage to get away to take the call without arousing suspicion until he realized it wasn’t his phone that was ringing. He quirked an eyebrow as Giles fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, clumsily retrieved the device, and handed it to Jenny as if it were contaminated in some fashion. He was nearly stunned that this rather humourous reminder of Giles’ legendary techno-phobia failed to produce even the hint of a smile on Willow’s face.
He puzzled over Giles having agreed to own such a thing in the first place and realized it had to have been Buffy’s idea. He couldn’t see Jenny trying to force it on the man. She knew his hatred of modern gadgets and she could not have been eager to embrace something which would further cut into the time she had Giles all to herself. No, this had all the earmarks of Buffy wanting to tighten her circle, keep the people she had left closer and more under her thumb than ever. He felt a pang of something akin to pity at how desperate the girl he’d once loved had become. Fear and loneliness could do so much damage.
“Buffy? Yes, yes. I understand. We’ll be right there.” Jenny sounded highly irritated as she spoke to her boyfriend’s charge and Angel strained to keep from grinning, both at her being slapped in the face with a reminder of just who the most important woman in Giles’ life really was and at the fact that the two would soon be beating a hasty retreat.
“Rupert, we have to leave. They’ve identified the demon and they need our help.”
Giles looked distracted, suddenly caught up in his Slayer’s world once more, Willow nearly forgotten as he turned and headed for the door. “I’m sorry we have to leave like this. We’ll be back tomorrow night, Willow. Take care of her, Angel.”
Those last words had none of the implicit threat they usually carried. It was obvious they were rote, Giles’ mind already back at the library. He too, it seemed, had more important concerns than Willow, though Angel grudgingly conceded that it was more than likely that the demon they were rushing off to fight was a danger to human lives and in need of immediate slaying.
Jenny seemed far more reluctant to leave, but she had no choice, so she followed Giles to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Willow. And we’ll spend more time together.” Now her words carried the hint of a threat, as they always did, Jenny’s mind at least still focused on her battle with Angel, if not on the girl who was the ostensible reason for it.
With that parting shot, they were gone, hurrying to their car in silence. Angel listened as the Citroen pulled away, realizing that their hasty conge was even more of a godsend then he’d initially thought. It was an alibi. Willow could hardly wonder why he hadn’t discussed their plans when Giles and Jenny hadn’t been there long enough to have more than the barest conversation.
A look at Willow’s face, however, told him she wasn’t even thinking about the trip and what he hadn’t told their visitors. No, her eyes had a wounded, faraway look, a look that Angel almost wished those two could see, a look that proclaimed that Willow was hardly the vacant creature Jenny, in particular, assumed her to be. There were memories behind those eyes. Memories of being shunted aside and brushed off as an inconsequential thing. He felt connected to her again, her pain reaching out to him, calling to him. His embrace could offer her asylum, so he went to her and took her in his arms, murmuring softly to her, not to defend the thoughtless fools who’d just departed, but to distract her.
“Alone at last.” He felt her tentative smile against his chest, right over where his heart lay still and quiet, yet somehow so full. How much a cold, dead heart could be warmed to life by love. “We have two hours ‘til we have to leave. Whatever shall we do with all that time?”
Her smile grew broader as she lifted her head and gazed up into his face, gratitude and longing shining from her eyes. She needed him, needed to know that she was cherished and wanted. That to someone in the world, she was the world. In one swift move, he picked her up and made his way upstairs, her surprised squeal eliciting a kiss as he made his way back to their bedroom, the feel of her in his arms conjuring images of a brave knight rescuing a maiden fair.
There were advantages sometimes to being a souled vampire desirous of avoiding notice, to taking the tunnels even when the streets were dark and safe for his kind. Take tonight for instance. If he hadn’t come on his errand into the nearly deserted high school from far below ground, he never would have smelled it. Gas. And at the rate it was leaking, the school could easily be blown up in a matter of minutes, taking Buffy and her friends with it. Good thing he was right near the boiler room. Now another advantage of his would come into play.
Wait. Mingled with the stifling odor of the gas, he could pick up three familiar scents. He could also hear the sound of three heartbeats slowing into the rhythm of an unconsciousness that would soon become permanent. There was a faint pounding on the inside of the door. Angel yanked it open.
The moment he did, Giles tumbled out at his feet. For a moment, Angel found himself extremely vexed with the man. It took a special kind of selfishness for him to remain closest to the last remaining source of fresh air. No time for that, though; there were two other lives at stake. One of which was actually worth saving. He dragged Giles quickly out of the room, not bothering with excessive politesse.
“C’mon.” He pulled the man’s body out of the doorway, dumping him unceremoniously to the ground once more. He had more important things to do than fuss over Rupert Giles.
His eyes immediately sought out Willow. She wasn’t responding to the noise and he was terrified that he might have been too late. Damn Giles. Whatever happened to chivalry? His spot by the door might have been better taken by Willow, whose lighter body weight also made her more susceptible to the fumes than he was.
Angel got to her in a flash, checked her pulse and carried her hastily from the room, not thinking about Xander for a moment, though he was depressed to see that Giles had gotten him out even before Angel emerged bearing Willow’s slight form.
Willow lay cradled against him, like a child. Somehow, though, the feelings she was evoking in him were none too innocent. He was almost glad that the presence of the others made it necessary for him to find the strength to resist temptation and set her on her feet. The feel of her in his arms was almost *too* pleasurable. Xander’s voice, blessedly, took his focus off the still-unconscious girl leaning against him.
“What happened?”
As if Angel should know. Logic chided Angel with the fact of Xander’s near death fogging his memories, but Angel had no real inclination to make any allowances at all for the boy. Was he unreasonable and childish in that regard? Perhaps. But Xander’s grating personality was more than sufficient excuse.
“You tell me.”
“I’m up, mom.” With those mumbled words, Willow came adorably awake. Angel’s arm remained around her.
“Hi. What do you want?”
Typical. He saves the boy’s miserable excuse for a life and Xander *still* treats him like dirt. All the dangerous creatures lurking in Sunnydale...couldn’t *one* of them do the world a favour? If it weren’t for Willow having been one of those trapped in the boiler room, Angel wondered if he would have even bothered to save the day.
Yeah.
He would have.
Sometimes he really hated having a soul.
“I brought you the Codex.” He handed the ancient volume to Giles and watched as Giles groped the book in an almost disturbing way, a gleam in his eyes that was almost... Okay, he got that the guy was a Watcher *and* a librarian, but geez did he ever need to get out more. And that was coming from someone who’d been living in alleys and eating rats for eighty years.
“I came in through the basement. I smelled the gas.”
“Y-y-yes w-well shut it off. Otherwise th-the whole building will go up.”
This was getting way too creepy. Giles was stuttering as if he’d just been caught reading Playboy. Angel decided that was something best left unthought about, though he did worry a bit about what might be in store for that Codex...
“I’ll get it. It’s not like I need the oxygen.”
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
With that, Giles hustled Xander and Willow out of the basement.
For a moment that went on just a bit too long, Angel stared after them. No, not them. *Her*. Then he went into the boiler room to turn off the gas - but not without taking one last look at the retreating girl. Would it have been such a bad thing after eighty years of penance if circumstances had made it necessary for him to carry Willow home?
After all this time, he was carrying Willow home. She depended on him, loved him - in all truth, he was her home, his arms the walls that would keep her forever safe. She would be all the happier once they were far away from a town filled with painful memories of being neglected and ignored, belittled and disregarded. From now on, the only thing she would know was a life of being cherished, worshipped, and adored.
He entered the bedroom, stopping to take in his surroundings. This would be the last time he would ever make love to Willow in this bed. He almost wished they could take it with them, wished he didn’t have to leave it behind, with its memories of the first time he’d ever made love to her and every moment they’d lain together thereafter. But he carried those memories in his heart, he reminded himself, a far surer keep than wood and fabric and coils could ever be.
Her lips were against his neck and something inside him burst. This small act of initiative confirming his wildest hopes about Willow’s feelings for him. There had been no wishful thinking on his part - Willow’s desire for him was as real as his own.
He moaned, letting her know how much he enjoyed what she was doing, and she grew bolder, her hands winding into his hair, her mouth finding his. This was not going to be slow or languorous. Angel set her down.
“Saucy minx,” he chided playfully, swatting her bottom. “You’d better take care of...” He let the words trail off, knowing Willow was still shy enough to prefer that he not discuss her menstruation. He didn’t mind her modesty in the least, in fact, he was glad that, after everything Angelus had done to her, she’d been able to hold onto it. And after all, it didn’t prevent her from allowing him to taste her.
It was only a moment later that she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in the familiar towel, gingerly walking towards the bed. But this time, there was no hesitancy when she removed it and spread it out on the duvet, laying herself on it like a banquet upon which he might feast. Oh, how he wanted to do just that. But he also realized that tonight was about Willow, and what she wanted was him inside her, to feel that she was sharing something with him. She didn’t understand what tasting her blood did for him. What human could? It was something he himself would have been hard pressed to explain. So he would forgo that pleasure tonight. There would be time for that in the months to come. Plenty of time.
“So beautiful, “ he purred.
She smiled and he was lost. He stripped quickly and joined her on the bed, covering her body with his own, his kisses and caresses soon readying her for his entry. He marveled at the way every time he was with her, it still felt so amazingly perfect and new, as if he were taking her for the very first time. Her heat, her scent, the sound of her cries urging him on - he was drowning in her, consumed by her, there was nothing in the world but the two of them.
Until he heard the voice from the doorway.
“You bastard! What the hell are you doing to her?”
He’d been warned. Twice, in his dreams, Xander had in some way intruded on his intimacy with Willow, had come between them. Yet, in spite of this foretelling, Angel hadn’t stopped it from happening.
In a flash, Angel was away from Willow and his teeth were in Xander’s throat. His predator’s instincts may have failed miserably at keeping him aware of what was happening in his house until the perimeter was breached, but they didn’t fail him now. The boy hadn’t even had time to think of escape. Angel hadn’t thought at all.
He was brought out of his feral state by the sound of Willow’s scream.
“Angel! No!”
It was enough. His fangs retracted as if of their own volition and Angel hastily checked for a pulse as he listened for a heartbeat. Good. He hadn’t drained him. The boy was alive. Unconscious, but alive.
“He’s alright, Willow. I swear. Come here and see for yourself.”
He wanted to stake himself. The look of terror and anguish on Willow’s face...a look that was there because of him...it was more painful than any torment he’d ever endured.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I know what it looked like. But him walking in on us like this, I was afraid of what he would do. I was just immobilizing him. I didn’t think about how you’d see it. I’m so sorry.”
Tiny fib there. Well, perhaps not so tiny. But the look in his eyes held all his love for her and his pain at having hurt her and it was doing the trick. With the towel once again wrapped around her, Willow was approaching him - cautiously, but still approaching. He held Xander’s arm up so she could check his pulse, sighing in relief when he could tell that she realized her old friend was still alive. She refused to meet his eyes.
“I need to take him downstairs, Willow.”
There was the fear again. She knew what he meant. That he didn’t mean the main floor. He made to calm her again.
“Just so I can reason with him. I won’t hurt him, Willow. You have my word. I swear to you that I will not harm him. But I can’t just let him leave. You know what will happen if he goes to Buffy or Giles or Jenny right now. They’ll do their best to stake me. At the very least they will take you away and make sure I never see you again. I couldn’t bear that. Could you?”
Willow hesitated for a moment and Angel felt as if his world was about to shatter in a million pieces. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she spoke..
“No.” Her voice was soft and tinged with heartbreaking uncertainty, but she’d said it and Angel could almost feel his heart beat once more.
“I’ll take him downstairs. You get dressed, okay? Then I’ll come back for you and we’ll go talk to him together.”
Willow nodded, but still her eyes would not catch his. It hurt, but he would have to fix it after taking care of the intruder.
Angel hoisted the boy over his shoulder and carried him out the door and down the stairs. Suddenly conscious of his nudity, he wondered what Xander would say if he were to awaken right now. He almost laughed.
He reached the library quickly. Angelus had always been one for the over-the-top gesture and the “dungeon” certainly qualified...including the fact that the door to the stairs leading down to it was opened by pulling out the copy of The Sun Also Rises on the third shelf. His demon’s lack of subtlety was almost embarrassing.
He opened the door and was down the stairs in a trice, shaking his head at the cliched look of the place. Really...chains hanging from the ceiling? Moist stone walls? It looked like the set of a bad movie. But it was better than nothing. The metal chair in the center of the room would be the perfect place to restrain Xander. Thank heavens the “toy chest” on the far wall contained rope. Willow would not take too kindly to Xander being chained and shackled.
For a souled vampire, he hadn’t lost the knack of securing a prisoner. Xander was soon tied up in a fashion that might well restrain even a Slayer. Those knots would make any Eagle Scout sob in envy. He appraised Xander de haut en bas, nodded his head approvingly at his own handiwork, and went back upstairs. The boy would likely have regained what passed for his faculties by the time he and Willow returned. In Angel’s mind, a plan was swiftly forming...
Time was ticking by, the minutes that had seemed like hours a short while ago were now passing like seconds. On his way back to the bedroom, Angel retrieved their luggage from the closet and put it by the front door. Then he went upstairs to get dressed.
“He should be awake by the time we get back downstairs. Let me just put something on. I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to talk to Xander like this,” he indicated his nudity and smiled, hoping she’d see the levity in that idea. The corners of her mouth turned up only slightly, but at least it was something. Angel clothed himself apace, then sat on the bed, motioning for Willow to sit beside him.
“There’s something we need to discuss first.” He took her hand. She didn’t pull it away. “Willow, we’ll have to stay away a bit longer than I had planned.” Willow looked agitated and Angel struggled to reassure her. “We’ll come back, sweetheart. But with Xander finding us like that...” She blushed and Angel continued. “We’ll have to give everyone a chance to calm down, that’s all.”
She wasn’t convinced. In fact, there was something in her mien that made Angel fear that he might have to force her to leave with him. He didn’t want to do that, though inside, while he hated himself for it, he knew that he would if it was unavoidable. He made a last ditch effort to win her over.
“Willow, I know Xander is your oldest friend. I know how much he and the others mean to you. But think about it? How much do they really care about you? When you were Angelus’ prisoner, did they risk their lives to save you? And now? Do they ever put you first? Xander stayed away for weeks because seeing you made him feel bad. Is that what a true friend would do? Would you have done that in his place? I know you wouldn’t. You would have been with him every day.” Angel paused, gauging Willow’s reaction. She was obviously upset, considering his words carefully, so he continued. “The others are just the same. Jenny and Giles treat you like a pet, talk to you like a feeble-minded child, rush off at a moment’s notice. And Buffy - Buffy hasn’t been to see you since I told her there was no hope for us to get back together. How good of friends have any of them been?”
There were tears in Willow’s eyes now; he wished he hadn’t had to hurt her like that. But there was no other way. She had to be made to see.
He put his arm around her. “Willow, I love you. I love you so much. You know that. I am just trying to do what’s best for you and for us. We won’t be gone forever. You’ll see, it will do them a lot of good to miss you, to learn just how empty their lives are without you here. Then they’ll be the kind of friends you deserve.”
Willow’s expression relaxed, though her tears still fell, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. She trusted him. He had won.
“I’m going to leave Xander here, tied up.” The panic welled up again, but Angel was ready to head it off before it could build and undo what he just accomplished. “It’s alright, sweetling. I’m going to call Giles and tell him where to find Xander. It’s just that this will buy us enough time to catch our flight. I promised you I wouldn’t harm Xander and I won’t. I’ve always kept my promises, haven’t I?”
She nodded.
“Now, let’s go say goodbye to him. Let him see that we love each other. I know he won’t see reason today. But maybe someday he’ll wake up and remember the example you’ve always set as a friend and he’ll just want you to be happy.” And someday pigs would soar like eagles on shiny golden wings. But Willow was the eternal optimist and Angel could see a glimmer of hope light like a candle flame in her eyes.
He took her hand as they stood, leading her out of the room and down to the room where Xander was waiting. He checked his watch. It was now eleven-ten.
The boy was awake when he and Willow entered the room, struggling against his bonds as if he actually believed he had a chance of escape. He was as cliched and ridiculous as the room itself. A perfect fit.
“Willow?” Xander was pleading, obviously counting on his best friend to free him. In the argot of his fellow teens: As if.
Willow said nothing, her eyes moving from him to Angel to the walls, unable to fix on anything.
“Willow, you’ve got to get me out of here.” And here Angel thought Angelus had cornered the market on corny. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Deadboy, but you won’t get away with this.” And the hackneyed lines kept on coming, falling from the boy’s lips like manna from B-movie heaven.
But as much as it might amuse him to see just how many clunkers Xander could actually spew forth, time was running short. At the risk of sounding every bit as dully aphoristic as the boy, Angel cut to the chase.
“I love Willow, Xander, and she loves me.”
“You love her? You’re a demon. A demon who kidnapped and raped her. I don’t buy for a second that the soul makes you any different from every other bloodsucking monster out there. But while we’re talking about souls, what about the fact that you had no problem risking losing your soul again by forcing yourself on a girl you broke and turned into a pathetic shell?”
Angel could feel Willow stiffen beside him. Good one, Xander. Why did everyone always act as if Willow couldn’t understand a word they said if they weren’t speaking directly to her? Sadly, he realized that this was simply the logical outgrowth of the way her friends had treated her even before she’d been Angelus' prisoner. It was only that now it was taken to an extreme. Time to clue the boy in.
“She understands what you’re saying, Xander.” His tongue ached to say ‘moron’ but he knew he had to take the high road to reinforce the difference between himself and the idiotic boy. “And as for my soul, seems Jenny’s been keeping secrets. Old habits must die hard. There’s no clause anymore. Willow makes me happier than I’ve ever been, and I still have my soul.” He turned to his girl and kissed her softly.
“Will. You don’t believe this crap, do you? He’s lying. He can’t have Buffy, so he’s using you. He knows that you’re still too damaged to know any better.”
There were tears now in Willow’s eyes. She couldn’t believe that’s how the boy she’d once loved saw her.
Angel put a stop to it. He didn’t want Willow in any more pain. Besides, it was time to get upstairs. The driver would be there any minute now.
“I can’t believe after all the years you’ve known her, you don’t see how special she is. She’s beautiful, sweet, caring, smart...she means more to me than Buffy ever did, more than I ever thought anyone could mean to me. Maybe someday you’ll realize just what you passed over. I’ll pity you when that happens.”
He took Willow’s hand and turned around, walking towards the door. His hatred for Xander burned brighter than ever. Still, he’d made a promise.
“We’re leaving town for awhile. I’ll call Giles and let him know where you are.” Xander looked at him in total disbelief. “I promised Willow.” No change. Why was Angel not surprised?
Willow looked at her old friend, tears still swimming in her eyes. “Goodbye, Xander," she said softly. “You’ll be okay.”
And with that, Angel guided Willow out of the room, closing the door behind him. As he did so, Xander called after them.
“Willow! Willow, don’t leave me.”
Then the door locked behind them and the boy’s voice disappeared. Soundproofing - another cliche. He kept his arm around her, the scent of her tears almost overpowering as they reached the stairs.
They made their way silently to the library. Angel took his cell phone out of his pocket, went to the desk and got out his phone book. Easier to make a phone call when you have the number. He programmed it into the phone’s memory. Willow watched him, some of the tension leaving her as she saw that he was keeping up his end of the bargain. She dried her eyes with her sleeve
At that moment, there was a knock at the door. It was the driver; something about the knock was different from that of anyone he knew. He ushered Willow back to the front room and answered the door, schooling his expression into the arrogant insouciance the man would no doubt be expecting.
He wasn’t disappointed in his solicitor’s choice of chauffeur. A silver-haired fellow of slightly adipose physique attired in elegant livery, the driver exuded an aura of discretion and circumspection. Angel fractionally relaxed, sensing that there was no danger of any information about their departure and destination being revealed by this man.
“I’ll take the bags to the car, sir.” The voice was soft, but assured. The sort of efficient and inobtrusive tone one formerly heard from a well-trained butler. It brought back memories of a more genteel time.
He let the man take care of the luggage, then he and Willow followed him out to the limousine. Once again, his solicitor had done well. Angel hated the gaudiness of the modern stretch limo, much too gauche and nouveau riche for his liking. The car taking him and Willow to the airport was a Rolls Royce, far more to Angel’s taste.
In short order, they were comfortably ensconced in the back seat, silence all ‘round as the car made its way to the main road and out toward the airport. After a few minutes, Angel took the cell phone from his pocket, Willow’s eyes lighting up with her gratitude as he did. He pushed the button and listened as the number was dialed and the phone at the other end rang. On the second ring, it was picked up.
“Giles? This is Angel. I have something important to tell you. Willow and I are leaving town. Giles, just shut up for a minute. Because right now you have something else to worry about. Xander is tied up in a room under the mansion and I suggest you go there first and free him. The only way to get to the room is by pulling out one of the books in the library. I’d have everyone go there with you to help out because it might take you awhile to find which one and he’s not going to get out of that room on his own. Goodbye, Giles.”
As he spoke, Angel could hear the cheery recorded voice of the local theatre employee as she rattled off the showtimes and ticket prices of the current feature, unaware of a word Angel said. After saying goodbye, he hung up the phone and put the phone back in his pocket, basking in the glow of Willow’s smile as she nestled against him. He had kept his promise, he reasoned, at least the letter of it. It wasn’t as if he had killed the boy. Thirst and starvation would do that.
At any rate, soon they would be far away, never to return. He would build a life for Willow that was so idyllic she would never want to leave it behind to return to pathetic Sunnydale and her useless amis manque. She would forget all about them, he was certain of it.
How much time, he wondered, would it take before Xander realized that no one would be coming to rescue him?
The car proceeded towards its destination. Angel kissed the top of Willow’s head, pillowed against his shoulder, and gazed out the tinted windows. He could see the lights of the airport. They shone like the future.