Angel in a Bottle

Disclaimer: The following story is intended for entertainment purposes only. This document can be freely distributed with the condition that no part of the text is modified, and this notice is included with all copies.

Some characters and elements of this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and are used without authorization. No copyright infringement is intended. The author receives no compensation from the distribution of this work. Any comments or criticism would be welcome.

Spoilers: Set mid season 4 Buffy, sometime after Something Blue. No serious Angel spoilers, but assume season 1.

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Angel glared at the gloom, there was someone here, he knew it. A beating heart, the sort he wouldn’t normally pursue except as his evil alter-ego, except this heart wasn’t afraid. Racing with adrenaline, perhaps, but the man wasn’t afraid, he was revelling in the confrontation.

Which was strange, because he had yet to show his face.

An hour of tracking the guy, and he still hadn’t seen his face. Angel wondered if he was losing his touch, or if this guy was somehow less human than he’d assumed. Hard to guess, without a quick taste at least. Angel smiled at the thought, then waited as a wave of guilt washed over him.

He wasn’t supposed to think that about humans, not even bad guys.

And this was a bad guy, the trail of bodies left him in no doubt about that.

So what? When would he stop hiding if he already knew Angel was there?

“You know, I’m not having the greatest day, do you think we could get on with this?” Angel decided it was time to try to elicit a response.

“Have it your way, Angelus.”

Angelus? Oh crap.

The thought remained unfinished.

************

The sun had been streaming through the blinds in Buffy and Willow’s dorm room for hours, but after a heavy night of patrolling, snuggling, studying and moping between them, neither Buffy nor Willow was ready to believe it was morning.

The knocking continued.

In any other town, in someone else’s dorm room, the easiest recourse might have been to invite in the knocker so that he, or she, at the very least wouldn’t have anything left to knock on. But this was Sunnydale, and somehow even in broad daylight neither of the two semi-conscious girls considered random invitations a good move. Finally, after mentally trying to jar Willow from her continued dozing, Buffy struggled from beneath the covers and went to open the door.

“Unnnngghh?”

“Buffy Summers?”

Buffy raised her one functional eyelid to regard the young man stood at her door. He didn’t look like a demon, but then most things didn’t in broad daylight. And when did the daylight get this broad? What does the broad even mean? Is sunlight kind of fat? Buffy blinked, question for Willow later maybe. “Uh, yes.”

“These are for you.” The man thrust a small bunch of flowers, carefully wedged into some sort of rather elderly looking vase, into her hands.

“But I don’t even know you!” Buffy was pretty sure this would all make sense as soon as she was awake. Unless she was dreaming anyway. Balancing the vase in one hand she pinched herself, hard.

“Delivery, they’re from Angel.” The man was already backing down the corridor, apparently quite hurriedly, causing Buffy to briefly wonder whether there actually was something wrong with her that Willow and Xander had never quite got round to mentioning. Could there be something that terrible? Then she remembered – Riley. No, there was no terrible, flower delivery men were just one of those things that were going to have to wait until later, during regular Buffy waking hours.

Preferably with the support of Willow waking hours.

But why would Angel be sending her flowers? It was a puzzle, and not one that Buffy really wanted to get into in detail – which was likely to become quite tricky just as soon as Willow came round.

“Will! How is my best bud this morning?”

A rumpled, sleep deprived red head stared at her slightly vacantly. “Are you OK, Buffy?”

“I am,” Buffy beamed at her. “And so are you.” She held out the small vase gleefully. “You have flowers.”

“For me?” Surprise and hope warred for space on Willow’s face for a moment before they gave way to suspicion. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, 100% guaranteed Willow flowers. In a little vase!” Buffy insisted, brightly.

“Oz?” Willow’s forehead crinkled as hope flared up again, this time more cautiously.

“Sorry, Will.” Buffy’s face fell slightly.

“But there’s no one else who….”

“You have a secret admirer,” announced Buffy.

Willow’s face fell, “I’m a source of fun and ridicule? I only just got to college. I can be a geek and fit in here, that’s the whole point. Why would anyone…?”

“Or possibly someone likes you? You said it Will, it’s not high school, secret admirer doesn’t equal torment and pain. Well,” Buffy paused, remembering Parker, “not necessarily anyway.”

“Is it Xander? Is he trying to make me feel better? Coz it’s sweet, but then I feel kind of guilty again about all the demons and stuff. And you and Spike, with Riley there. And that whole thing with Giles! I’m not deserving of sweetness. Except possibly in cookies, and then only if I share.”

“Slow down, Will, isn’t it possible that there’s a guy out there on campus who happened to fall for those Wiley Willow charms we talked about?”

“Not usually,” protested Willow.

“But possibly?” suggested Buffy. “Just maybe?” Buffy grinned. “Ha! Yay me – I have a plan. I might not know who these are from, but if I help you prove that it’s a no-making-fun-flower then you have to promise to enjoy. Deal?”

“OK.” Willow still looked suspicious, but Buffy could tell she was wavering, and if she could just get Willow to believe that someone other than Oz would find her attractive, it was bound to have a huge effect on how Willow felt about the whole Oz thing in the first place. Plus, big bonus, Buffy wouldn’t find herself explaining to anyone how her ex came to be sending her flowers. It was the perfect plan.

“Here, you can start with Xander.” Before Willow could even respond, Buffy had pressed the speed dial.

***************

Willow stared at the flowers, daisies. She wasn’t doing magic, exactly, just trying to persuade them to give up their secrets through the sheer force of her mind. More fifth grade hopefulness than magic really, which was probably why it wasn’t working. The flowers remained stubbornly silent. Switching to her resolve face, in the theory that it could bend the will of the most determined animal, Willow proved conclusively that vegetables and minerals are not subject to the same forces.

Still nothing. And she had no clue who they might have been from either, it was infuriating. Nice, because even if it was a fantasy the idea that someone liked her made her feel all giddy inside and not at all thinking about Oz, but frustrating. And a little nerve-wracking, what if she was subjecting him to Xander like ignorance? Or if he really was laughing behind her back? What if it really was just Xander and he was a better liar than he used to be so she couldn’t hear it in his voice anymore?

What if it was Giles??

Willow shuddered, scary thought. Giles was great, but flowers from Giles was right up there with, well, other scary things she didn’t want to think about. Like vampires, and Armageddon, and frogs.

“Come on flowers, you can do it.” Willow glared at them some more.

“Do what?”

“What?” Willow nearly fell off the bed in shock. The flowers spoke! It worked!! “Tell me who…” Wait. She recognised that voice. “A-angel?”

“Ah, no.” A pause. “Who’s Angel?”

Willow frowned. “Don’t lie to me, mister. I recognise that voice. You’re Angel, in the flowers…. Unless you’re outside and you’ve got really good at ventriloquism.” Willow peered cautiously out of the window and into the darkness. Buffy would be patrolling by now, or possibly out with Riley somewhere. “You’ve not got into ventriloquism have you?” she demanded.

“Willow? OK, it’s Angel, I admit it. You can stop the inquisition now.”

“Sorry,” Willow briefly looked abashed. “Wait, we have to get you to Buffy – o-or Giles. We have to get them to help you! You can’t beat up demons from a plant pot!”

“Will? Can’t we just…”

“What?” Willow asked cautiously.

“Can’t we just figure this out on our own, it’s, umm, not something I want to tell Buffy about right away.”

“But…” Willow frowned. “But Buffy missage, you have missage. You both have. Oooooh, but there’s Riley, and… Wait, why don’t you want to see Buffy? Is this like that Thanksgiving thing?”

“No! Nothing like that, it’s just….”

“Oooooh.” Willow grinned, she couldn’t help herself. “You’re embarrassed aren’t you?”

“I’m not…. Well, OK, yeah. I’m trapped in a vase full of flowers and I can’t fight my way out. Xander would be embarrassed.” Angel grunted.

“Well sometimes he’s easily embarrassed you know, like that time Buffy saved him from Larry, or when…. I see your point. B-but still, Angel, don’t you want to get out more than you want to no, err, blush. Do vampires blush?” Willow pondered for a moment, then added, “Are you still a vampire in there? What happened to you?”

Willow could practically hear Angel’s reluctance to explain. It was several minutes before he spoke again at all, to the point where she’d started debating whether she was imagining the whole thing, or whether she should just ignore his request and silly probably-still-vampire embarrassment and get help. It wasn’t like she was really qualified to do this sort of thing on her own.

Finally, he muttered, “I’m still a vampire.”

“Great! Well, not great, but… you know what I mean. So what happened?”

“There was a warlock.”

“Pffft, there’s always a warlock,” Willow shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Can’t they think of something new?”

“You’ve seen a vampire in a vase before?”

“Well not strictly seen before, but… It seems very unoriginal. Vampire genie. Although, also very cute – a little bitty Angel genie, in a vase. Do you get a costume?”

“I’m not a genie.”

“Oooooh, are you sure? I could rub the vase and check?”

“I’m not – oh fine, you might as well try it,” Angel sighed.

“Are you really sure you don’t want Buffy here? Or Giles? I bet he’d be great with vases, probably knows every enchantment there is, Giles is a genius you know. And you know he can not tell Buffy stuff, coz of that other time.” Willow’s hands inched towards the vase, almost afraid to pick it up at all, despite already having handled it several times. “So how do people usually do this? They just rub the side with their fingers?”

“Pretty much, if you follow the stories,” agreed Angel, still sounding distinctly grumpy.

Closing her eyes tightly, Willow rubbed the side of the vase hard enough to give herself mild friction burns, just as the dorm room door was flung open.

“Angel?” Willow jumped, not expecting him to appear away from the vase.

“No Will, that was last week,” her best friend informed her authoritatively. “He’s gone back to that city we love so much because it’s far, far from here.”

“Xander!” Willow sheepishly tried to edge in front of the vase, even as she heard Angel grumbling.

“I’m not here,” Angel hissed.

“Sorry, Will? Didn’t catch that. Ooooo, you have flowers. The Buffster mentioned secret admirer, is it someone I know?”

“Is it someone he knows… the boy’s a moron.” Willow heard Angel mutter in the back ground.

“Err, Xander, that’s why they call it a secret admirer, because it’s secret,” Willow told him gently, ignoring the fact that her secret admirer had become distinctly unlikely since she’d discovered Angel in the vase. Something she was going to have to have words with Buffy about – if she could do so without breaking her promise to Angel.

“Ah, but he’s a great friend of mine already, made my Wills look much happier and with less Oz missage. This is of the good. Although, I came prepared with excess ice cream to help this fantastic development along, what do ya say Will. You, me, Indian TV and Ben and Jerry?”

“Kill me now,” Angel cursed.

“Did Anya kick you out?” asked Willow cautiously.

“Can’t I just want to spend time with my bestest bud? Cheering her less than cheer that she’s been having, making all well in the world, hanging out, soaking up the college vibes… and some ice cream,” pouted Xander.

“You’re not paranoid I’m going to make you a demon…?”

“Whoa, stop right there Will, not even wanting to hear those words again, and no, I’m not, I just thought I’d stop by. Is it really that unusual?” Xander looked slightly hurt, and it was starting to make Willow feel guilty.

“Well… it’s just you haven’t been around that much, with the college thing, a-and the Anya thing, it’s a surprise. A good surprise.” Willow beamed at him.

“Oh no, Willow you have to be joking!” exclaimed Angel from behind her back, thankfully still out of range of Xander, but loud enough that Willow once more found herself blushing.

“It’s nothing,” she spluttered.

“What’s nothing?” Xander looked puzzled, and slightly concerned. “Are you OK, Will? Coffee?”

“Yes, because I had to study. A-and now I’ve finished studying,” she added.

“That’s my Wills,” grinned Xander, plonking himself down on Buffy’s bed hard enough to shake several of Buffy’s ornaments and reaching for the TV remote. “So which channel do ya fancy?”

***************

Buffy still wasn’t back.

Admittedly, sharing a room with the slayer was bound to make for some unusual hours, but Willow was pretty sure the sun was beginning to rise. Shouldn’t the vampires have gone to bed by now? Also, she was no closer to working out how to get Angel out of the vase.

Not to mention Angel wasn’t exactly being forthcoming about exactly how he came to be trapped in there in the first place. He was too busy being embarrassed and trying to pretend that he wasn’t in fact shrunk down to the size of Willow’s thumb. Willow sighed, at least Xander had been good company, all the vampire seemed to be managing was getting increasingly tetchy.

And was tetchy better or worse than embarrassed? Willow wasn’t at all sure, although she was vaguely hoping that tetchy might bring the opportunity to tell Buffy what had happened, possibly even Giles. Giles could do with a good project to get his teeth into anyway.

And maybe that was a poor choice of words, even words in her head.

Willow turned her attention back to the flowers.

“So,” she announced to herself, “rubbing didn’t work. OK, no great surprise there, although I’m a bit disappointed about the whole costume thing. Time and Xander-triggered annoyance didn’t make Angel burst out – although, also fairly unlikely… Removing the flowers didn’t do anything… Ha!” Willow beamed at the world in general, currently observed only by Mr Gordo. Gripping the vase tightly in her hand, she flung it to the ground, watching as it smashed into a dozen small pieces and the flowers scattered over the floor of her room.

***************

“Willow?”

“Willow, are you OK?”

“Uuunnnghh,” groaned Willow, wishing she hadn’t waited up for Buffy. “Is it morning already?”

“Willow, it’s Angel, are you OK.”

The voice seemed increasingly insistent, and somehow rather dissimilar to even early-morning-got-no-sleep Buffy. “Huh? Where? What’s…. Oh.”

Not that Angel wasn’t nice to look at, but somehow Willow didn’t feel all that pleased to see him. Unless, of course, she’d freed him and he was currently waking her up in her room – that would be nice. Maybe she’d fallen on the smashed vase and bumped her head, or something equally klutzy.

Willow opened her eyes fully, and avoiding the concerned vampire took in her surroundings. Nope, no room, just a whole lot of, well, empty space.

“Hey, Angel. Guess I can’t tease you about being tiny anymore,” Willow grinned ruefully. “You’re not too upset about that are ya?”

“No, Willow, it’s fine, I’m just sorry I got you involved in this at all. Are you OK? You were out for quite a while.”

“I was out?” Willow frowned. “I thought the point was I was in?”

Angel smiled. “Unconscious, I was worried about you. It was rough enough for me, when I, umm, arrived, and you’re well…”

“Weak and pathetic?” sighed Willow. “It’s OK, I’ll deal.”

“I didn’t mean – .” Angel started to apologise.

“ – It’s fine. Not like I managed to save the day is it? Nope, good old Willow, managed to get herself in trouble again,” she grumbled.

“You may have had a little help,” pointed out Angel, smirking at her slightly.

“That’s a good point, this evil found me, not remotely a Willow-blunder,” she perked up as quickly as she’d got down. “Sorry, issues.”

“You want to talk about it?” he offered, bravely Willow thought as he had no idea what he was getting into. “Was it Xander?”

“Not really,” Willow told him, watching as a flicker of disappointment crossed Angel’s face before he smiled again.

“Damn, I was hoping I could maybe get an excuse to hit him.”

“You’d hit him for me? That’s so sweet!” smiled Willow. “Oh, except, wait, you can’t go round hitting my best friend,” she poked him in the chest. “I’ll turn you into a rat.”

“Ow!” grumbled Angel, rubbing his chest. “Have you turned Amy back yet?”

“I think I’m getting closer.” Willow’s face fell.

“Then I definitely won’t be hitting Xander and inducing your wrath,” promised Angel, his eyes meeting hers as he checked that she understood the joke.

Willow grinned. “You told a funny!” she declared. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you tell a funny before. I like it.”

“Are you really OK?” Angel’s concern was touching.

Exaggerating every motion, Willow checked her limbs, groaning slightly as she discovered just how stiff they felt. “Ow! Yes, I’m OK, how long was I unconscious?”

Angel shrugged, holding out his wrist to show her his watch.

The hands seemed to be almost vibrating. Sometimes stationary, then other times leaping forward in a burst of motion.

“Oh, I see.” She struggled to her feet, aided slightly by a good tug from Angel. “What are we going to do?”

***************

“Which of you was last to see her?” Giles turned to engage the two teenagers behind him. “How long has she been like this?”

“I saw her in the morning,” began Buffy.

“This morning?” enquired Giles.

“Yesterday.” Buffy gazed intently at the floor.

“You haven’t seen her since yesterday! She was on her own? Oh man, we let this happen… Poor Willow.” Xander looked even more devastated than Buffy, his eyes not wandering far from the prone figure in front of him.

Willow.

“So when exactly did you leave, Xander?” persisted Giles. “This could be very important.”

“I dunno, probably 1am, something like that, she said she was going to sleep, she didn’t say anything about weird spells or collapsing, I swear!”

“You think she’s been messing with magic again?” asked Buffy.

“I’m not sure, something doesn’t quite add up.” Giles followed Xander’s gaze to the silent figure of Willow, sprawled strangely uncomfortably and only partially on her bed. “I think we should move her into bed properly though.”

“I’ve got it,” said Xander, moving past Buffy before she could even protest and shifting his friend’s body into a more natural sleeping position. The sort of position that, given her sleepwear, would have made it even more difficult to recognise that something was amiss. Once Willow looked more comfortable, Xander sat gently on the bed beside her, so gently it seemed almost impossible that it could be the same youth who the day before had been in danger of breaking Buffy’s bed. He took hold of Willow’s hand and began to talk to her quietly, virtually ignoring the presence of Buffy and Giles as they continued to consider the possibilities.

“Her pulse is strong, and she’s breathing easily,” whispered Giles, “I see no reason for her to be in this state.”

“So it is magic?” asked Buffy.

“I see no sign of an open spell book or anything like that, I know Willow likes to practice magic, but I don’t see her undertaking anything capable of doing this without the aid of a spell book at the very least.” He frowned. “No, there is something here that is definitely not quite right.”

“Come on, G-Man, flex those achy Watcher muscles, tell us what to do,” pleaded Xander.

“Errr….”

“Hey, guys, look at this.” The two men turned to see Buffy knelt on the floor beside Willow’s bed.

“What?” asked Xander.

“The flowers I gave her, they’re all over the floor. But the vase is right there, so she can’t have dropped it,” Buffy frowned. “Why would she want to throw away the flowers?”

“I can’t…”

“You gave Willow flowers? Is there something going on that I should… Is Riley just a cover? Are you the secret admirer?” Then Xander’s thoughts returned to Willow, lying on the bed. “Is this going to help, Giles?”

“Fascinating. Well, Buffy, I can’t imagine why Willow would throw the flowers away like that, certainly without actually clearing them up. Willow is normally quite careful with her things…” Giles trailed off, taking in Willow’s dresser. “Is this the vase?”

For several minutes, the two teens waited as Giles studied the vase intently, apparently seeming to take in every chip, crack and brush stroke. Meanwhile, the room was silent, taken up only with the breathing of its four occupants, and the occasional rustling of Xander shifting on the bed. It was almost eerie, certainly only situations as dire as a potential threat to Willow’s life could make the two teenagers remain quiet for such an extended period of time. Still, in the quiet, it seemed that both of them had slowly drifted into their own thoughts, as when Giles voice broke the silence, they both jumped.

“Oh good lord, where did you get this vase?”

“I didn’t, it wasn’t me, I…” stuttered Buffy.

“But you said you gave her the flowers,” pointed out Xander, sounding slightly accusatory.

“W-well I did, but they were really for me,” admitted Buffy.

“The vase was intended for you,” remarked Giles, “yes, that would make a lot more sense.”

“It would?” Xander looked up expectantly at the older man, waiting for an explanation.

“The vase is, well, cursed. It’s an ancient and not very commonly practiced ritual in which an experienced magic user can trap an unsuspecting person. It not only renders them ultimately completely vulnerable to external attack, the only means of escape is for the person to take on the person who trapped them – from within the vase. If you had taken the flowers yourself, Buffy, I fear you would be lost to us,” sighed Giles.

“Hey, what about Willow, there’s got to be something we can do!” exclaimed Xander, slightly angrily.

“I can’t believe I did this to her.” Buffy slumped down on her own bed in complete dejection. “It should have been me.”

“Nonsense, Buffy, it is hardly your fault that you chose to offer Willow a little kindness. Besides, if the trap was intended for Buffy, it may be that the keeper of the trap has severely under-estimated his or her opponent by taking Willow instead.”

“Huh?” Buffy and Xander chorused together.

“No offence to Willow, but if I can’t beat them, why would she?”

“Because, Buffy, it is a battle of wills. Of the mind if you like. And what Willow may lack in physical prowess, she more than makes up with her mind,” responded Giles, providing the first glimmer of hope that Willow would recover. “In the meantime, if we can track down whoever did this, perhaps we can give Willow a slightly easier time of it.”

“Finally, something I can hit,” said Buffy, standing again, and wielding a particularly fearsome looking axe.

“Guys?” said Xander. “I think I might stay here, keep her company.”

“Excellent,” Giles nodded to the boy. “Whatever you do, don’t break the vase.”

“Don’t break it?” Xander looked puzzled, as if Giles had just given him the answer to a riddle then told him he was asking the wrong question. “Won’t that release her?”

“No, Xander, it won’t. More than likely it will instead force you into the vase with her,” Giles told him sternly.

“But then I could help!” protested Xander.

“With the brain battle, Xand?” pointed out Buffy. “Hey, Giles, maybe you should break it.”

“No! Stop, at once. Breaking the vase is extremely dangerous to anyone inside it. There is every chance that you could essentially override the minds of whoever is already trapped. Do you understand, Xander. You must not break the vase, under any circumstances.”

“Got it. Vase best in one piece,” nodded Xander, looking slightly shaken at the intensity of Giles’ announcement.

“Right, Buffy. Do you have any ideas as to the means by which the vase reached you?”

“Do I what?” Buffy looked up at the Watcher as if she thought he was completely crazy.

“Where did you get the vase? Who was it from?”

“Oh, that’s totally easy….”

*************************

Xander couldn’t help it. He was keeping Willow’s body company, he knew, but he was continuously drawn to the vase in its precarious perch on the dresser. Willow’s mind was in there instead of in her head? He kept getting visions of the vase starting to talk to him like Willow would, or maybe call him. Any of a number of Willow-like activities.

And he couldn’t help but worry.

Sure, Willow was pretty powerful in the brains department, but if this was some demon with loads of experience and magic seeping out of every pore, somehow Xander had a feeling it wasn’t really going to be a fair fight.

Willow could lose.

He looked down at her body, steadily keeping itself alive, and wondered how long it could stay that way without help. What would happen if Giles and Buffy didn’t find whoever had done this and take them out – if that would even free her.

There had to be something he could do.

And then it dawned on him. He could talk to her. Really talk to her, not whisper to her body, but tell her what she had to do.

He leaned over to the vase, carefully avoiding touching it, and began to yell instructions down to Willow.

*************

“I’m sorry Willow, I think I’m going to have to hit him,” grumbled Angel, holding his hands over his ears.

“Grumpy vampire, he’s just trying to help,” protested Willow.

“Helping would be quietly telling us what to do, he’s been yelling everything from your first meeting to his latest sexual conquests for the last 20 minutes!”

“Picky,” retorted Willow, blushing.

Angel smiled. “I’m supposed to let it slide because of good intentions?”

“Yep,” she grinned back. “But, Angel? Was he right about the trap?”

“Us fighting our way out?”

“Y-yes, and how I could’ve killed you.” Willow’s wide eyes looked up at the vampire and he found himself putting his arm round her.

“Sssh, Willow, don’t worry about it. I was the one who insisted you didn’t tell Giles, remember. It’s not your fault.”

“B-but…” Her eyes moistened and tears were obviously threatening as the events of the past few hours began to catch up with her. Then, just as abruptly, she stopped, holding it all in. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Willow.” Angel looked down at her. “We’re going to find a way out of this.” He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her down to the ground with him. “But maybe first we need to come up with a plan.”

“You heard the man,” said Willow, waving in the direction of Xander’s still booming voice. “I’ve got a demon to take on.”

**************

Angel was beginning to wish he’d never even asked for Willow’s help in the first place. He was a self-respecting champion, for heaven’s (or hell’s, he added mentally) sake, not a weak-willed or helpless subordinate who followed a little girl around just because she told him to.

And yet.

She did make a very good case.

Still, he was pretty sure he’d missed something, and that it was going to come back and cause him vast amounts of pain, possibly literal, later on. He wasn’t much looking forward to that.

“Willow?”

The girl turned round, surprise evident in her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Where are we going?”

“Is this an existential thing, Angel?” she grinned up at him, unnerving him slightly.

What?

“I-I’m sorry?” he asked.

Willow chuckled. “Sorry, Angel. I’m looking for the bad guy. Xander seemed to think he’d be around here someplace.”

“We’re doing this because Xander said so?” Lowest of the low, Angel wasn’t sure he could even bear contemplating it.

“Absolutely,” Willow smiled at him, her look completely innocent yet absolutely confirming that she knew precisely what she was saying to him and thought he should just suck it up.

Angel growled to himself, very, very quietly. This had better be a good battle, he was going to need to relieve some stress.

There hadn’t been anything by the way of conclusive evidence of the warlock in their examination of their surroundings, although it was clear that the environment wasn’t strictly what you’d expect from the inside of a vase, even if you were only an inch or so high – which was not something Angel planned to even contemplate anytime soon, he preferred to have his height measured in feet, ideally at least six. Instead, the vase seemed to have more of a run down warehouse feel, much like the area in which Angel had originally encountered the warlock – as far as he could remember. He had to admit sightseeing hadn’t exactly been high on his agenda at the time.

“Wait.”

Willow stopped, her whispered warning coming just late enough to cause him to crash into her and very nearly bowl her over completely, but for his reflexes.

“What?” Angel asked shortly. He was getting fed up of following her around and taking her orders, just because Giles thought she could handle it. Giles didn’t know that Angel was here in the first place. Besides, surely he, Angel, was the one with enhanced senses? Angel shook his head, Xander must be really getting to him if he was jealous of this kid.

“There’s something here.”

Cryptic; Angel was beginning to sympathise with Buffy’s objection to his old one line warnings. “What is it? I can’t hear anything.”

“Magic,” said Willow, more than a little fearfully. “It’s a witch or something.”

Had he not told her that? Angel mentally rewound the day’s conversations. He was sure he’d covered that already. Maybe he’d just let it slide for now. He grabbed Willow’s arm and pushed her behind him. “I’ll take him,” he growled, trying to pretend he wasn’t imagining Xander’s face.

She didn’t stay. Of course, these days it was pretty much 50-50 whether that sort of thing would work in the first place, and Angel still remembered just how riled-up-Willow behaved after that going-for-coffee incident when they killed the demon under the frat house. Ahhh…. Good times. Anything would be better than midget or disembodied in a vase full of flowers, this really wasn’t going to be good for his image.

Plus, if Willow’s friends had her body, what was going on with his?

Suddenly, Angel was grateful for dilapidated warehouses, and their ability to keep the sun off brain dead vampires.

*******************

“Giles, look!” As Buffy raced across the abandoned warehouse, her mentor’s gaze followed her, wondering whether she’d discovered something of value or simply the latest fashion in shoes, sometimes it was so hard to guess. They had reached the warehouse by way of a series of leads on the origins of the vase, starting with some Buffy-style abuse on the unsuspecting flower delivery boy, who Giles felt was likely to take up some safer occupation such as sky diving as soon as the opportunity presented itself having survived his encounter with Buffy.

He had been entirely human, disappointing Buffy greatly, the rest of their sources hadn’t been. They hadn’t survived either.

Giles could only hope that they didn’t run out of demons before they found the source of Willow’s problem. Of course, it would be nice to rid the world of demons completely, but Giles had a feeling that it would lead to something of a dead end.

Then again, Buffy had found another demon – and this time one she wouldn’t kill.

It was Angel.

Even as a boy, Giles had been fascinated by the idea that vampires didn’t need to breathe, but now, looking at Angel’s inert body, he found himself wishing that they did. He looked, well, dead.

And if Angel was here, in apparently the same condition as Willow, did that mean that Angel was in the vase with her – given that they had after all been chasing the vase, not Angel. Worse, did it mean that when Willow entered the vase, Angel was expelled from it, permanently. Was that really worse? Giles shook his head, ridding himself of his old prejudices. Angel had more than proven himself.

Still, if Angel was already within the vase, and it had been intended for Buffy… Giles wasn’t sure where those thoughts would lead him. Neither did he get time to seriously contemplate it as a noise distracted both him and Buffy from behind.

They weren’t alone.

**********

“Come on, grouchy,” Willow teased him, making Angel want to growl at her at the very least. The girl was wise enough in the ways of the hellmouth to know better than to just go rushing towards something nasty and magical. She wasn’t that powerful, was she?

“Willow,” Angel grabbed her arm. “If you won’t stay behind me, you can at least wait for me.” He tried to look as disarming as possible, and liked to assume he’d succeeded given the years of practice he’d had. “I worry about you.”

Willow beamed up at him, but didn’t pause for even a second. “That’s sweet, Angel, but y-you don’t do magic. That’s a Willowy thing.”

“I…” Maybe disarming wasn’t working. Would annoyed be any better? Of course, there was always slinging her over his shoulder and running for it, but given that he couldn’t feel what he was running away from that wasn’t really guaranteed. Plus there was the slim, but not entirely negligible, possibility that Willow could and would magically kick his ass, and he wasn’t at all sure his ego could take that just now. Bad enough when Buffy did it.

“My turn to save you?” offered Willow, her confidence clearly waning a little as Angel continued to stare at her. “What? I can totally save you. Witchy Willow, saver of the, err, not-entirely-innocent…. Is this a macho thing?”

Resisting the temptation to roll his eyes, because he was pretty sure that wasn’t at all macho, Angel tried to think of an appropriate response. All his brain seemed to come up with was, well, wow. Plus a bit more of the anger, but he was trying to ignore that. A macho thing indeed.

“Errr… Willow.” He began hesitantly, before she could set off again.

“I can do this,” she insisted, her voice betraying her slump from supreme witch to terrified kid as she tried to convince herself.

Angel sighed. “I’m sure you can, but you can’t just go rushing in without knowing what you’re facing. You could get hurt.”

“Better than being stuck here forever,” pointed out Willow, not entirely unreasonably.

“I’m that bad as company?” Angel prodded her.

Willow smiled again, melting (or at least thawing) a few of Angel’s reservations, and held out her hand. “Together?” she suggested.

I’m going first, thought Angel, but taking the proffered hand, he nodded his consent. The show was on the road.

***********

Buffy was away from Angel’s side and with Giles before he even had chance to mention the noise to her. “What was that?” she whispered. “Should we be worried about Angel’s body?”

“I suspect that it’s rather us than Angel that ought to be worried,” Giles informed Buffy passively, reaching into his bag and beginning to rummage about. “The chances are if whatever it is felt able to attack Angel, Angel would already be dead. I’ve heard of curses where the death of the lone body can bring about terrible and lasting problems to the magic user who perpetrated the act. Possibly even an indefinite haunting of sorts. No, actually, it’s entirely feasible he’s protecting the body until he’s sure he’s dispatched the mind.”

“And in the real world that would be, he’s protecting Angel from us so that he can kill Angel?” Buffy looked mildly impatient.

“You mean why he’s moving towards us?” Giles’ voice rose a pitch or two. “No, I think it’s more likely that’s because he wants to kill us.”

“About time,” smiled Buffy, taking up a fighting stance. “Come and get it, little wizard.”

“Err, Buffy, I don’t think he was planning on…”

For a moment Giles was under the impression that the warehouse had been fitted with a highly functional lighting system, possibly an entire sun, and someone had chosen that moment to turn it on. Then he realised the light show wasn’t quite that benevolent. “Buffy, run!”

Buffy held her ground, advancing slightly on the small, bearded, apparently human, warlock and getting a couple of kicks in before he could stop her. “I’ll hold him off while you do something.”

“Do something? Like what exactly?” Giles began to rifle more frantically through his bag, seeking a book which at the very least would contain a couple of handy counter-spells. “Buffy, do pay….”

He looked up to see Buffy flying through the air in a perfectly arced trajectory, hard enough to blast straight through one of the less solid walls with a clatter that made Giles wince despite himself. “… Attention.” He added.

He looked up at the warlock and began to recite the words of the spell.

“Hear me, greater beings of all worlds, I summon thee…”

********************

“There!” said Willow, the fight returning to her eyes as she saw sparks of light flashing around the inside of the vase. Flashes which completely confirmed the direction they had chosen. “I was right. Yay. Ten points to the hacker!”

“Definitely a magic user,” grumbled Angel, hoping that magic wouldn’t preclude some pummelling. “OK, Willow,” he began to consider their options. And his, admittedly remote, chances of persuading her to let him take the first shot. Willow on the other hand wasn’t waiting. She had already closed her eyes and had begun to wave her hands in the general direction of the flashes. “Willow, slow down. What are you doing?”

“I’ve been dying to try this,” she whispered over the roar of the energies pooling around her.

Angel found himself wishing she hadn’t chosen those words. And possibly that he could learn to think a little faster.

It seemed that distance wasn’t important to Willow, something Angel hadn’t really appreciated. She may have slowed her step, even stopped completely, but the spell she had begun to recite was clearly well underway and she showed no sign of pausing while he asked her to consider strategy. As she spoke, her palms pointed towards the source of the light unmoving now and Angel began to feel more than simply Willow’s presence beside him. He didn’t have much feel for magic, but he could feel the power coming through her as the spell took hold, taking her energy and turning it into a weapon to be hurled at their captor.

In the present circumstances, Angel was reluctant to admit it even to himself, but it was pretty scary. He knew that Buffy could take on anyone, but he was having a hard time imagining Willow in anything resembling the same, well, breath. Not that he breathed – maybe that was the problem.

Then the spell activated fully, and light bright enough to make Angel squint flew from Willow, clearly well beyond her control now as it targeted the source of the other lights, and hopefully the warlock. Briefly, it was as though an entire store’s worth of fireworks had been set off simultaneously. Angel found himself fiercely willing it away from them, even throwing the odd kick in its direction, in the vain hope that he was somehow helping. After all, it was a battle of minds.

But the opposing lights seemed to be gaining.

This can’t be good, thought the vampire.

There was really only one choice. Much as he wanted to properly hit the source of his current frustration, Angel wasn’t willing to leave Willow just now, even if it meant their freedom. He had no idea what was might happen to her then.

So he had to stay and help.

And if he couldn’t add to the magic independently, maybe the only way was by adding to Willow’s own energy.

Standing cautiously behind the red head, Angel reached over her shoulders and took hold of each of her hands, ensuring that he touched her bare skin with his palms too facing their enemy.

It was a heady experience, and not one Angel was in a hurry to repeat. As the spell began to take hold of him too, channelling his considerable energy into the blasts spewing from Willow’s hands, Angel was sure he must have grabbed hold of a live wire which was at this very moment burning the flesh from his palms. Belatedly, he wondered if the spell was vampire-proof, he wouldn’t be much use to Willow as a pile of spell-induced dust either.

Then, to Angel’s amazement, the forces buffeting against them began to recede and finally die off, with the sparks flying between them slowly easing off and disappearing until there was once again the dimly lit darkness of the vase. Initially, he was hit with the traditional end of battle good cheer, as the threat had quite clearly subsided, but then all at once he was struck by Willow’s limp body in his arms.

And his surroundings.

They were still in the vase.

And then they weren’t.

**********

Not for the first time, Giles had been completely sure that he was dead.

The warlock had been hitting them with everything he’d got, with bolts of light showering all around them, and no easy means of escape even making us of his meagre selection of magical volumes. Buffy was clearly dazed and slightly disoriented and Giles himself found that even hurling the books at the warlock didn’t make the blindest bit of difference. They were doomed.

Then another force was added to the mix, and one acting on their side.

Willow, he hoped.

Suddenly, the warlock was confronted with the power of Willow’s will, and he found himself in trouble. As their opponent’s attention was turned, Buffy and Giles released a renewed attack, with Buffy providing further, physical, distraction as Giles finally let forth the best spell he could muster for the moment, intended to undo all magic currently in use by the warlock.

Then, the little man crumpled to the ground and was still.

Under no illusion that they had been the cause of his demise, Buffy and Giles were justifiably cautious in approaching the body, aware of just how dangerous he might be if this was a ruse.

“We should get back,” said Buffy, prodding the body cautiously with the toe of her boot.

“Agreed, but first we must see if we can glean any useful information from this fellow. Like perhaps why he might have been after yourself and Angel?” pointed out Giles.

Buffy shrugged, sticking her hands in her pockets and sinking down into a squat. “Where is Angel, anyway?” she asked. “He was right here.”

“Fascinating.” Giles couldn’t resist. “It appears that the magical backlash must have been sufficient to catapult him across…”

“Catapult?” asked Buffy. “Literally?”

“Well, err, probably not. I’m afraid it’s all rather theoretical and metaphysical, but I suspect that Angel’s mind left the vase with Willow’s and as a result his body found itself with him.”

“Hellmouthy fun as usual then,” noted Buffy. “We should really get back and check they’re OK though.”

“Absolutely, just one moment.” Giles began to rummage through the pockets concealed beneath the man’s robes.

********

“What did you do to her?”

Angel blinked, the change of scenery confusing his senses considerably. He felt as though he’d just tried bungee jumping and mistakenly got run over by a truck as he hit the bottom. Do? Gathering his wits, or what remained of them, he glanced first at the palms of his hands, then, following his arms, up to the girl who still lay there unconscious. Somehow he was kneeling beside her bed, with his arms under her body, and in his opinion he was far too close to that annoying best friend of hers.

“What?” Angel finally managed to speak.

“Why are you back when she’s still there? She was trying to help you, you bastard!” Xander sprang up from his side of the bed, and running round it began to punch Angel heavily in the face.

Changing, more by reflex than anything, Angel reached out to defend himself, only belatedly realising that his arms were temporarily trapped beneath Willow. “You’d better hope she’s fine, Harris,” he grumbled, gently removing his arms as rapidly as possible, and wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. “If she’s dead I don’t need to keep my promise about hitting you, and you know I’ve had a really long day, I could do with a spot of mindless violence to round it off.”

Xander backed up. “You’re evil!”

Angel sighed, at least the boy had stopped hitting him. With considerable effort, and restraint that he felt should have earned him something other than stony faced glares, Angel changed back into his human face and sat on Willow’s bed, his weight shifting her slightly as he did so.

“Willow, do you think you can wake up and tell this moron to stop hitting me?” he pleaded quietly, knocking away the cross Xander thrust in his face.

“You can’t have her,” persisted Xander.

“Because she’s yours?” asked Angel, turning to the boy and looking him fiercely in the eyes.

“Yes.”

“Now you have to share,” Angel informed him, calmly, proud of himself for even maintaining that level of civility given the circumstances.

For once, Xander was silent, at least momentarily. Angel was grateful for the respite, it gave him chance to see how Willow was doing.

“What happened?” the boy asked. “Why were you with her?” He looked down at Willow’s still body. “Is she OK?”

“I think she’s just recovering,” Angel told him, understanding at least his need to question. “There was a magic battle, she used a lot of power.”

“Magic?” Xander’s face fell.

“You don’t like her using magic much, do you?” asked Angel.

“I can’t protect her when she does that,” said Xander. “I always said I’d look out for her, ya know.”

“I know how you feel,” replied Angel quietly.

They both turned back to the girl on the bed, a truce finally called as they recognised their similarities. Briefly.

“I have to just…” began Xander, leaping up again, although it seemed to Angel that he’d barely been still for a moment. “I have to go to the bathroom,” he finished. “You won’t hurt her, will you?”

Angel shook his head, unwilling to fight the boy any further, despite the implications. It seemed to be more habit than anything anyway, he presumed. “I promise.”

“Cross your head and… oh, never mind.” Xander dashed out.

Angel turned his attention back to Willow as though Xander had never even been there. “Willow,” he whispered, “I have to tell you how incredibly brave I thought you were back there. You were amazing, I can’t even begin to… Willow?”

At first it was just a twitch in her hand, but then her eyes blinked wide open and he found himself talking to her directly. “Willow!” he exclaimed, kissing her gently on the forehead, then moving to hug her tightly. “You’re awake! We were worried.”

“Wills!” Xander sprang back into the room excitedly as he realised that his buddy was awake again. “I guess I can’t rag on Angel for hurting you if he brought you back to life too, huh?” He flung his arms round Willow, only letting go when she seemed to be having trouble breathing, then slapped Angel hard on the back. “Sorry, man.”

Angel found he didn’t entirely believe it. Although he wasn’t entirely sure it made him want to hit the boy any less – maybe a little. So that he could have a cosy life as Willow’s immortal pet rat maybe…

Or maybe not. Angel figured he’d had enough of being small for a while.

*******************

It was a long drive back to Sunnydale, especially in Giles’ car, given the state of Buffy’s mind as they’d left. Angel had vanished, and despite all the reassurance Giles could give, she was desperate to see both him and Willow safe. No particular longings for Angel, just a need to know that he was OK, Buffy supposed that that part was a relief, if she could just focus on that. It was hard though, with the way the car was shaking and dislodging every thought she had.

“At least we made it,” said Giles, in answer to Buffy’s silent complaints about the state of his car.

“Giles, the demons have better cars.”

“Especially if evil provides company cars,” he responded. “I thought you were in a rush to see Willow and Angel, rather than complementing my car’s vintage?”

“I am,” she agreed, running up the path to the dorm leaving Giles to follow at his own pace. He’d catch up.

The sight in her room was better than Buffy could have dreamed, not only were both Willow and Angel OK, but they were considerably less banged up than her and Giles. Not to mention Willow looked vaguely happy, and Angel and Xander were actually getting along. A nagging thought that she may have entered a parallel universe crossed Buffy’s mind, but then Giles walked in and she remembered the journey back from LA. Certainly, in the perfect parallel universe, Giles would have a car that moved, Buffy figured she’d probably have one of her own too.

“Guys, Will, you all look so good! I was so scared there’d be massive hospital duty,” exclaimed Buffy, moving around Xander to hug Willow.

“She had us worried for a little while,” commented Angel, looking down at Willow. “How did it go your end?”

“Peachy, got thrown through a wall, warlock guy singed my hair and we lost an entire Angel body, but I’m here – no thanks to Giles’ car.” Buffy smiled.

“We do have a little news,” put in Giles, “I’m afraid we failed to determine the source of the warlock’s intentions, but we did firmly establish that he was a demon.” He looked straight at Willow. “He wasn’t human.”

The relief in Willow’s face was palpable, “thank you Giles,” she beamed at him. “How did you know I’d…? You always know!”

“I’ve been there,” he told her quietly. “But not you. It was a demon, remember that.”

“And what party fun you are, G-Man. So, we’re all here, we’re all good, how about a nice relaxing demon-free evening?” suggested Xander. “Maybe at the Bronze?”

“Well, there is research to be done, you know,” pointed out Giles. “We should try to establish what we’re up against, should it try for Buffy or Angel again.”

“Or Willow,” added Angel.

“Or Willow,” agreed Giles. “Nonetheless…”

“Giles,” Buffy put her hand on his shoulder. “You need to take a break from the worry. We made it, we’re good, we’ll worry about the big new evil tomorrow.”

“And in the meantime, party?” asked Xander.

“I-I’m thinking I might sit this one out, Xand,” Willow told him apologetically, “I’m beat.”

“Bad TV and ice cream party in dorm room?” suggested Xander.

“Again?” exclaimed Angel. “Do you ever eat anything other than ice cream?”

“Hey, Mr I-Only-Drink-One-Type-Of-Food!”

“Guys!” Buffy glared at them. “I thought you were getting along. Come on, chill out, relax, enjoy the vibe that is my friends are here and we beat the bad guy.”

“Sure,” said Xander, sitting back on Willow’s bed. “I can do that.”

“Me too,” agreed Angel.

“I think I will take my opportunity to bid you all good night,” put in Giles, “and well done.”

“So,” said Buffy, regarding the three people before her, “you said something about ice cream?”

Three tubs of ice cream and an assortment of spoons lay scattered on the dorm room floor besides the four warriors as they compared exploits and marvelled at the changes in their lives. But it was late now, late enough that Willow had already dropped off to sleep, leaning lightly on Angel’s shoulder from her position against the bed, one of her feet drifting steadily closer to kicking the nearest tub of ice cream.

“Hey, Will! I was going to eat that,” whispered Xander in mock protest as he moved the container.

“I guess it’s time to call it a night, guys,” said Buffy, nodding at the form of her sleeping friend.

“I should get back anyway,” said Angel. “Before it gets light.”

“How?” asked Buffy, “isn’t your car in LA?”

Angel grinned, “There are other ways.”

Buffy frowned.

“I called Wesley,” confessed Angel.

“Cheater,” muttered Xander, with no particular malice in his voice.

Slowly, Angel stood, taking Willow’s still form and placing it on the bed again without waking her. “She looks so peaceful.”

“Ice cream can cure anything,” said Buffy.

“She’s spent way too much time there the last few days though,” pointed out Xander, nodding to the bed.

“She’ll be OK,” Angel told him, moving towards the door.

“Angel,” Buffy made him turn, wondering what she was going to say. “thanks for the help.”

“Any time,” he replied. And there it was, complete peace between him and Buffy. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small envelope, handing it to Buffy. “Give this to Willow.”

************

The sun streamed through the blinds as Willow woke up, warming her and confirming beyond all doubt that the demons of the hour had been laid to rest. She felt better too, better than she had in weeks probably. Still, despite the gorgeous weather, it seemed a shame to rush out of bed, maybe she should just open one eye at a time.

The first eye revealed sunlight dancing across the room and over Buffy’s empty bed. No great surprises there, it was probably late and Buffy’s classes started earlier than hers today – assuming that was where she’d gone.

The second focussed on an envelope resting on her pillow and addressed to her in elegant handwriting.

“Willow….”

Finishing the letter, Willow smiled broadly. She really was having a much better day.