Pale white eyes stared at the girl coldly. Although her red hair was shining with a silver glow, her appearance was still haggard. The power coursing through her veins was exhilarating – although she knew that this sudden energy was born of hatred, she found herself immersing herself in it. This newfound energy was like an infinite battery for her magick, and she wanted nothing more than just to revel in it for at least one single night.

So as she peered at her own reflection in the dirty restroom mirror, she raised her hands to her face, covered her eyes and mouth, and slowly brought them away, then gazed into the mirror again. Although her pupils remained blanched and her hair glowing, her face was clean and made up perfectly, her short hair styled spiky and bobby-pinned above her ears. Another gesture towards the rest of her body changed her worn clothing to garments that were made for a night of clubbing. She looked down at herself, admiring her own magickal handiwork. Clad all in leather, she wore a midriff-baring zipper-down black leather vest, a tiny black mini-skirt, and leather boot-heels that came up to mid-thigh.

Content with her appearance, she left the dingy restroom, still riding the wave of the high her power was supplying.

Outside the door was the rest of the under-21 club she had found. But with her new façade protecting her, she knew she would be able to get into any establishment she wanted. Grinning madly, she brushed by the two acne-ridden teenagers who tried to hit on her on her way out of the club.

As she confidently strolled down the street, Willow could feel a small part of her protest at these actions. *There are friends who care about you,* the part said in a corner of her mind, *you know that this isn’t really you.* Defiantly, Willow shook her head at herself. *No,* she argued with herself, *this isn’t me at all. But it’s a side of me that I need to let out. And I’m going to let it out tonight.* With that thought, the witch grinned to herself, and turned to head towards her new destination.

However the streets were not without their small shops, and the driven witch couldn’t help but stop and shop with conjured money. She bought clothing, jewelry, makeup, trinkets and small treasures, pens and stationery sets, books and cd’s. After only a few hours, she was toting several bags, using her energy to give her the additional strength needed to carry them with her. Finally, her target location appeared in her sight. She sped herself up, dashing inside the door.

Finding a table in the dark back corner of the room, she dumped all her bags under the table and sat down. Then, slightly antsy, she stood and walked over to the counter at the other end of the room. It didn’t take much to convince the bartender that she was over 21, and soon returned to her seat with a bottle of beer. True, Willow had never really drank alcohol before, but she figured that night was the night for anything. Practically ripping the cap from the bottle, she quickly downed the amber liquid inside.

Up on the stage in the front of the room, three giddy housewives sang a drunken rendition of “You Don’t Own Me.” Once they were done, they were rewarded by loud applause and incoherent shouts, took their bows, and stumbled back to their seats.

Grinning madly, Willow flew from her seat and up onto the stage. It was all perfect – the railing by the stage, the ladder leading up to a loft behind her, and the headset mike. It was truly a posh karaoke establishment. Excitedly selecting the song she was going to sing, she readied herself for her performance.

The music started. “What’s the time? Well, it’s gotta be close to midnight,” she sang, swaying her hips to the beat. “My body’s talking to me, it says, ‘Time for Danger’.” Giving the audience a mischievous look only enhanced by her white pupils, she began to really get into the mood. “It says, ‘I wanna commit a crime! Wanna be the cause of a fight!’” She grabbed onto the railing in front of her, swung both legs over it, and sat on top of the metal bar. “’Wanna put on a tight skirt and flirt with a stranger,’” she sang, and magickally changed her leather skirt to shorts before anyone could really notice.

 “I’ve had a knack, from way back, at breaking the rules once I learn the games.” Placing both heeled feet onto the railing, she stood and balanced herself on the rounded metal bar. “Get up! Life’s too quick – I know someplace slick, where this chick’ll dance in the flames!” Smiling madly, she managed to kick out towards the audience, then backflip off the railing before she lost her balance. Landing soundly on the stage again, she looked out into the darkened bar. A couple of drunken guys were already cheering her on. The encouragement only fueled her power high. “We don’t need any money, I always get in for free.” Leaning over the railing, she gave the boys in the front table a good look down her vest. “You can get in too if you get in with me!” Giving the front table one last glance, she straightened back up and stepped backwards a few feet.

Grabbing onto the top metal bar of the railing, she swung her body between it and the bar below it, then sat on the lower bar. “Let’s go oooooouuuuuuut, tonight!” Using her arms to push her upwards, she stood on the bottom bar. “I have to go, ooooouuuuut, tonight!” Swinging one leg over the top bar, she straddled the metal bar, still facing the audience. “You’re sweet, wanna hit the street?” She swung the other leg over the bar, hopping off the railing. “Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?” With a definite swagger in the swing of her hips, she skipped over to the metal ladder. Climbing up the first four rungs, she turned and faced the audience once more. “Just take me ooooooooooouuut tonight!” Then, with an amazing feat of agility, she slid between the third and fourth rungs, ending up behind the ladder. “Tonight!”

There was a pause of complete silence – and then wild, drunken, and haphazard applause. Willow found herself being showered with wallets, money, and several pairs of men’s boxers. She simply stood there, completely immersed in the thrill of performing and the energy still coursing throughout her, when she recognized a familiar face in the back of the karaoke bar.

Suddenly, the thrill of performing faded. Her glee was replaced by hatred, and in her anger, she ripped the ladder from the wall in her haste to confront the source of her pain.

Angel.

Leaping over the railing, she charged the vampire, pushing him out of the bar and into the street. Once outside, she used her magickal strength to shove him into the road. Then, not caring if he was to be hit by a car or not, she turned on her heel to her right and began to march down the street.

It was mere seconds before she was aware of him following her down the sidewalk. She lengthened her stride, meekly attempting to lose the undead creature behind her. The pressure rained down on her as she continually felt his presence behind her – an unwelcome sensory overload caused by the magick still within her. The hypersensitive redhead could almost feel his thoughts following her, never leaving her.

When he spoke, it was like the pressure had broken, only to be replaced by a greater burden being pressed upon her. “So let’s find a bar, so dark we forget who we are…and all the scars from the nevers and maybes die.” It was only a whispered verse, but Willow recognized it and stopped immediately, turning to face the vampire behind her.

“How dare you,” she choked out in a raspy whisper, “how dare you use that song against me.” She could feel the now-familiar anger welling up inside of her again, and let it out in words instead of magick. “How dare you follow me.” Each word grew a little louder, passing speaking voice and entering into shouting. “How dare you assume to understand how I feel!” With each word said, a bit of the power coursing within her bled away, but Willow was too involved in her emotions to notice her lessening magickal energy. “How dare you, Angel, try to butt into my life when you have no place in it!” Drawing back her hand, she slapped him soundly across the face, but was beyond surprised to discover she had lost all her extra strength. Gaping open-mouthed at her hand, which was now red from the impact with Angel’s face, she crumpled to the ground in shock.

Angel, meanwhile, was amazed to see her skimpy leather outfit morph into the clothes she had come to L.A. wearing. Willow’s made-up mask of confidence melted away, and her hair fell back behind her ears. Instead of the wild, defiant girl he had seen dancing on that karaoke stage, he saw the broken girl that she really was.

Kneeling next to her, he took her in his arms. Although she cringed away from him, she began to weep. After a few minutes, he realized that she was trying to speak. He listened to her as well as he could, and she whispered out her feelings between sobs.

“How…” she gasped, “could you, Angel.” She coughed and sputtered through her tears, hiding her face in his jacket. “How could you bring her here…” Hiccuping, she drew away from him, pushing Angel from her with all the strength she had left. “Bring her here, listen to her…when…when…” She paused to take a breath, only half-heartedly attempting to keep from hyperventilating. “When she was the cause of all this in the first place.” Sniffling, she made no move to wipe her runny nose. “You didn’t give me time to tell you…you went running to Buffy, because you’re Buffy’s faithful puppy, and when Buffy says to speak, you say whatever bits and pieces she’s taught you to say.” Suddenly, Willow found herself in the middle of one of her characteristic rambles. “Because Buffy is your one true love, and yadda yadda, and it’s a vampire and Slayer, well good for all that and all, but you want to know how it started?”

Angel realized that he was about to learn something he didn’t want to learn. But Willow was on a roll – there was no stopping her now. Bracing himself, he looked her right in the eyes as she spouted it all out.

Willow found herself not giving a shit about Angel’s feelings. “It started when I found O-oz and B-buffy fucking – yes, Angel, ha-having wild, uninhibited sex – in the middle of a goddamned crypt. A-and then Oz, Oz and Buffy were too busy humping each other brainless to notice that Willow had no one to talk to. And, and that Willow had no one to hang with. And that Willow was all by her lonesome, because everybody was too busy g-goddamned fucking each other to notice why the hell she ran away!” Ending her tirade, she collapsed into sobs into Angel’s still-outstretched arms, not noticing the blank look on Angel’s face.

Because Angel himself was trying not to pass out.