Willow knew exactly where she was.

She was in bed. With Angel.

And she had absolutely no intention of moving.

She remembered the previous night's events perfectly. The scene where she spilled the beans to Angel - along with the wonderful cuss words she had employed - replayed itself in her mind over and over, reminding her of how she had gotten into her sobbing state. She also remembered being placed in Angel's bed, then crying and weeping into the pillow for what seemed like an eternity. She remembered Angel's body suddenly appearing behind hers, holding her close. With a hint of shame, she remembered the feel of his cool skin against hers, his hard body clutching her shuddering one tightly.

The young witch couldn't deny it - she now felt a definite attraction to the souled vampire. However, it was the reason why she felt that attraction that confused her. On one hand, Buffy took Oz. Therefore, Willow had prime taking rights to Angel. Or perhaps she felt a need for payback on Buffy, and by somehow taking Angel away from her, she'd be able to exact that revenge to the teeth. Or it could be that she felt so moved by the fact that he had went looking for her the night before, she felt a sort of gratitude towards him? Or maybe it was just because he was so damn hot. Any way she looked at it, she didn't mind the current closeness of their bodies at all.

Without really realizing it, Willow squirmed a bit back towards Angel. Then, blushing bright red, she caught control of herself and kept her bottom steady. Bracing herself, she inched her head around just enough so he could see his undoubtedly angelic expression while he slept.

Little did she expect for him to be wide awake and grinning at her madly.

Willow thought about acting repentant, but decided otherwise. Smiling wickedly, she darted forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. Then, as he laid there with a wonderfully shocked expression across his face, she darted out of the bed and towards her bag on the floor.

Opening it up, she shook her head disapprovingly at the contents. Sighing heavily, she rummaged through the bag and drew out another outfit, not bothering to try to hide the unmentionables from the vampire. "Get dressed, broody-boy," she chirped, heading towards the bathroom to change, "you're taking me shopping."

***

Angel wondered immediately if her power had gotten the better of her again.

As much as he had been sure she had been rid of the excess energy running through her body, her current actions were definitely catagorized under the 'hyperactive-and-witchy' column in his mind.

Secondly, he wondered if he wanted her to kiss him again.

He decided to ponder on that for a moment, as he dressed himself for the day. Going through the motions half-aware, he brainstormed reasons why she would kiss him. By the time he had finished dressing, he had come up with the following list:

1. She's super-energized again, and completely out of control.
2. It was a harmless friendship kiss, and meant absolutely nothing.
3. She was thankful for him finding her the night before, and decided to show it that way.
4. She thought he was hot.
5. In some way, she wanted revenge on Buffy, and he was her way of doing that.

Although he really disliked that last one, he had to admit it could be true. Then, after looking at his outfit, he added another observation to the list.

6. She's overconfident, and somehow made him dress in leather, and thought he was hot.

He was only slightly tempted to change into his normal clothing, when she bounded out of the bathroom in a hip-hugging floor-length skirt and a tank top.

She looked him over once. "Nice outfit. Gonna have to buy me one to match. Now, let's get moving." She began to bound past him and up the stairs, when something hit him and he stopped her short.

"Willow, it's day."

The redhead paused, turned around, and flashed him a smile framed by copper-red locks. He almost melted. "Silly vampire," she said, "it's thunderstorming outside." Then, petting Angel gently on the head, she turned and climbed the rest of the staircase, whistling to herself.

Sighing heavily, Angel followed.

***

After four hours of running around under umbrellas, window- and store-shopping, and fun with three different credit cards, Angel decided that it was his turn.

Willow was skipping merrily ahead of him, twirling her umbrella and singing something that sounded vaguely like a musical he couldn't remember. It reminded him of swinging on lamp-posts and tap shoes. Luckily for her, all their purchases had been sent back to the office. Not so luckily for him, sending the purchases often ate a bit more out of his wallet. Seeing an alley ahead, he darted forward, simultaneously dropped his umbrella and grabbed her arm, and dragged her into the alley.

She cried out in surprise, and dropped her umbrella at his feet as he held her gently but firmly against the wall. After a few seconds of this position, she shrunk down a bit under his hands and gave him a sly look.

"Why, Angel, are you going to take advantage of me?" she squirmed a bit against his hands, trying to get closer to him.

He shook his head. "Willow, this isn't the girl I remember. What happened to her?" Seeing her expression change from a smirk to denial, he held her gentler, and drew her close. "What happened to you, Willow? You told me, yes…but I want to know how you felt. How you feel now. Tell me, Willow." He looked at her, seeing her scared face, and kissed her softly on her forehead. "Tell me."

She crumpled in his arms, trying hard not to cry. Slowly, he picked her up and moved the two of them further into the alley, where the rain couldn't reach them. Cradling her like a wounded puppy in his arms, he sat and listed to her speak.

"I…I'm trying not to think about it. I want to be happy again. I want it to be all over…it was like they didn't even care, Angel…I just wanted people to hang with. People to care for me. Someone to talk to about guys, homework, witchy stuff, anything…but, but, they were all too busy for me." She turned towards him, settling herself into his arms, feeling more comfortable than she had been in the past few weeks. "And…and, to tell the truth, I wasn't all that bothered by Oz and Buffy together. Oz and I…we knew it wasn't going to work, and we both broke it off…and I would have been happier for them, except for the way I found out, but still…" She looked up at Angel's chocolate eyes, "they spent so much time together, it's like they didn't need me around." Sighing, she lowered her eyes again, "Like they didn't want me around."

Angel rocked the girl back and forth in his arms, supported her head and the rest of her body against his own. "You know that's most likely not true, Willow," he said quietly. He saw her nod her head reluctantly, then her eyes rose to his again.

"Yeah, but it still hurt."

Propping her upper body inside the crook of his arm, he used that hand to tenderly stroke her damp hair. "It always does," he said kindly. "It hurts, like someone stuck a knife in your gut and twisted." He chuckled softly. "And I know what that feels like, and trust me, it hurts like a bitch." The corners of his mouth turned up as he watched her smile weakly. "It hurts, like a family member dying. It hurts, like a gaping wound that someone keeps pouring salt water on to wash it with. It hurts, like someone you love calling you a nasty name. And it will keep hurting, dear Willow, until you can truly acknowledge the pain. But one day, you will face that pain, stare it in the face and say, 'I know you can hurt me. But I refuse to let you anymore.' And that is the day that it will no longer hurt." Bending down, he lifted her face to his, and placed a soft kiss upon her nose. "And I promise to see that day with you, Willow Rosenberg. I promise."

They sat in silence for what seemed like ages, which in reality was only minutes, until Angel spoke once more. Stretching in order to whisper into her ear, he simply said, "Now, how about we buy you that leather outfit?"

A wide, albeit weak, grin broke out on the redhead's face, and she carefully climbed out of his lap. Standing in front of him, she reached out a single hand, and looked him straight in the eye. "Come on, broody-boy." Smiling, Angel took her hand, and the two picked up their umbrellas and headed back into the cloudy, rainy, and completely vampire-safe street.

And as the two friends finally reached understanding, the younger decided that she trusted her body and soul to the elder, and the elder made a silent pact to never break that trust