Part Seven

“I'm pulled down by the undertow/I never thought I could feel so low/oh darkness I feel like letting go.”

Buffy’s strength continued to return throughout that week, fueled by Willow’s enthusiasm and Angel’s nightly visits. Spike was always hovering over them, and once in a rare while, he’d join their friendly activity. Willow was beginning to see Spike as a person, rather than a bad guy, and Angel and Spike’s friendship recovered nicely. The week, however, was drawing swiftly to a close, and Angel’s mood deepened as the days fell. Finally, it was the night before Willow’s departure. She’d made them all hot chocolate, a la Willow, and they were setting down to play truth-or-dare.
“Willow… you get to start. Truth or dare?”
“Let’s start this right. Dare!” She smiled coyly at Angel as Buffy dared her.
“Willow, you have to sit in Angel’s lap until someone gets dared to shed some clothing.” Everyone laughed, and Willow jumped into Angel’s lap, settling into his arms.
“Ooh, comfy.” She commented. “Spike. Your turn.”
“Let’s see, Red. I think I’ll be sensible, choose truth.”
Willow smiled at him, took a sip from her heavily spiked cocoa, then asked, “Spike, who would you want to spend a weekend in bed with most?” The British vampire laughed heartily.
“That’s easy, ducks. It’d be the Slayer here, of course.” Buffy smacked his arm, then drank some of her cocoa. “Angel.”
“I’ll choose dare.”
“Angel, you have to go call that number by the phone, with Willow in your lap, and ask the person on the other line what they’re wearing.”
“Wait-whose number is it?” Willow asked, curious. As Spike laughed, she pouted. “What, I want to know!”
“You’ll see when Angel-boy calls it.” Angel sighed and dialed the number. Listening for the other person to pick up, his eyes opened wide.
“Ha-harmony?” Spike, body racked with his laughter, reached over to push speakerphone.
“Yeah, what do you want? I’m busy.” A male voice moaned in the background. Buffy burst into laughter, and Willow’s silent giggles joined it.
Angel tried to compose himself. “What are you wearing?”
“Ooh, kinky. But, like I said, I’m busy. Call back later, and we’ll…discuss this, okay?” There was a click on the other end, and Angel just stared at the phone.
“Well, then… Buffy’s turn.”

“Angel, I have to go now. My flight’s in an hour.”
“Hold on, hold on!” Angel came out with only one leg in his pants, hopping across the room. Willow giggled at the sight of the boxers he’d been so adamant about hiding a few days ago. He glared at her, then finished dressing where he could see her, then went over and hugged her.
“I’ll miss you, my Willow.”
“Since when am I yours?” She teased, punching his arm. “I’m coming back in a few weeks, don’t worry. And why haven’t you come to visit me yet?”
“You’ve got a point there. I’ll have to look into it.”
“Goodbye, Angel.” He hugged her again, and she waved brightly before quickly exiting, trying to let in as little light as possible.
Her flight home was more painful than the last one, having grown closer to those in Sunnydale than she’d ever felt before. Sunnydale was her home. She missed it. She missed Angel. Willow sighed and shut her eyes, trying to fall asleep. She dreamt of a family, a child, and a love so true and pure that it was never-ending.
She returned home, tossing her keys on the counter. “Hey, Patches.” The cat greeted her, rubbing up against her legs. She bent down and picked him up, petting him softly, hoping it would calm her on-edge nerves. It did help, a little, until she entered the bedroom.
Oz lay there, asleep in her bed. In shock, Willow dropped the cat, then turned around, heading to the kitchen. There were still feelings between the two; however, they were no longer the feelings Willow was looking for. She felt the need for chocolate ice cream, and decided to go for a walk.

At the ice cream shop, she ordered double-fudge ice cream, then paid for it. She slowly licked the ice cream from the cone as she walked down the street in the afternoon sun. A couple wandered down the street opposite her, and she watched them. Why can’t I be more like her? Willow wondered. My love life’s all messed up. The one guy I want doesn’t want me back, and the one guy that wants me is asleep in my bedroom, after dumping me two months ago. Arriving at the park, she headed towards the wishing well.
“I wish…” She said, throwing a coin in. “I wish for love in return.” She licked the last remnants of ice cream from her fingers, and decided she could no longer delay the inevitable. She headed home to Oz. “Hi, Willow.” The man on the couch said as she entered her house.
“Hi.” Willow responded quietly. “Why did you come back?”
“I missed you.” His simple statement left her reeling. It was a possibility she hadn’t considered: what if Oz still loved her?
Oz was sweet, funny… quiet. He thought in short little cryptic sentences that had several meanings behind them. He played guitar in Dingoes Ate My Baby. He had been her first lover, and he had broken up with her.
Angel was sweet, gentle, strong, wise, loving, responsible-most of the time, anyway. They seemed to share a mind sometimes, and he had always been her silent protector. And she had always loved him. Sure she had thought she’d loved Oz. She had thought she loved Xander, too, and look how wrong that was. But when she was around Angel, everything seemed different, like she was seeing everything for the first time, whole. And her world span when he looked into her eyes. When he was hurt she couldn’t breathe, especially when it was her fault he was wounded. They had been through so many close calls; Angel became Angelus (you still loved him as Angelus. That was hard to do, she acknowledged. Not even Buffy loved Angelus.); he’d tried to kill her. Willow had lost him then, and then she had lost her best friend. God, that had hurt. Then the zombies, the time Spike had kidnapped Xander and her, the time Faith caught her and tried to kill her. Then came the poison. When Angel had been shot with Faith’s arrow, she had been in bed with Oz. When the call came, she almost couldn’t speak. It was like being frozen in time. Angel, dying? From poison? It couldn’t happen… could it? Then when they found it, “Killer of the Dead”, how ominous was that? She played the good actor, as she put up uneasy facades to hide the pain.
And now Oz, who had left her, had come back.
“Willow?” Oz asked tenderly. “Are you okay?” As if in reply, a tear slipped down her cheek as she tried to mend her shattered thoughts.
“It’s… nothing.”
“Willow… I’m sorry.”
“For what?” For showing me my feelings? I should be thanking you, Willow thought.
“I came back… because I found Buffy.”
Oz’s statement-so unexpected-made Willow laugh out loud. Oz just stared at her, confused. “Oh, Oz!” She made out between laughs. “I already know where Buffy is!”
“Then… why doesn’t anyone else?”
“She’s in Sunnydale, and I was told not to tell anyone.” Calming down considerably, Willow told Oz the details. “See, she was injured, and Giles died… and she’s with Spike now. But… I’m allowed to tell them now… now that she’s better.”
“Giles… that’s not good… Spike… that’s cool. I always thought they should hook up.” Despite all her efforts, Willow giggled. “Well, then I can go back to the Dingoes. You’re okay, Will?”
“I’m good. Super good. Excited, in fact. You?”
“We’re doing good, thanks.”
“If you’d like, you can stay for a few more days…”
“No, I’d best get back…” they stood there, in awkward silence, for a few minutes. Then Oz headed towards the door. “I’ll see you.” He left without another word.
“Bye, Oz…”
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