A timid but insistent knocking brought Cordelia to the door. She faltered
before opening it, wondering who could be there at just after sunrise.
Finally she turned the knob and let her jaw drop when she saw who was
standing in front of her.

Willow smiled nervously, shifting from foot to foot. "Uh, hi."

Cordelia's expression cooled and she stared at the other girl. "Hi." When
Willow didn't say anything else, Cordelia cocked her head to the side. "You
wanted...?"

Willow shrugged. "Just to talk. I know it's early, but I thought that maybe
you weren't asleep yet. Or that maybe you were having bad dreams," she
mumbled. "Like me. I thought maybe it'd be nice to..."

"Share my most private feelings with the girl who cheated on her boyfriend
with mine?" Cordelia bit out. Willow's eyes widened and her face fell. She
turned to leave, but Cordelia caught the edge of her coat and turned her back
around. Cordelia's expression softened and she sighed. "Yeah, it might be
nice."

Willow gave a trembling smile and walked in the door, following Cordelia her
bedroom. She stood awkwardly, looking around, as Cordelia flopped down on
her lush mattress and stared up at the ceiling.

"You know," Cordelia started, "I'm not going to bite you if you relax. You
can sit."

Willow gave a shy laugh and sat down next to her on the bed, folding her legs
underneath her body comfortably. "Thanks."

"Sooo..." Cordelia murmured out loud, not really knowing what to say.

"Sooo..." Willow mirrored. She let out a deep breath. "I guess I thought...
I don't know. I mean, Oz has been comforting to me, even though I'm not
really the one who needs comfort. I- It's just that, this is so scary to me.
Not the... rape," she stumbled over the word, "But the Buffy being raped
thing. That isn't to say that rape isn't scary," she said hastily.

Cordelia rolled on her side to look at the other girl, and propped her head
up with her arm. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Look, I seem to be
Confessional Girl today, but I was raped a while ago and still I have trouble
understanding what Buffy must be going through."

Willow touched her arm, her brow furrowed. "You were? You do?"

Cordelia nodded. "Yeah. It was a long time ago. But I'm pretty okay, I
think. Sometimes I still have nightmares... That's not really the point
though. I just think that it must be even worse for Buffy, a fighter without
her strength and all. How she thinks she could have stopped it when she
couldn't have? Of course, everyone who this happens to thinks that, and it's
not true."

Willow's fists ground the sudden tears out of her eyes. "I know what you
mean. Or, I'm trying to. And trying not to. Is that horrible?"

"Yeah," Cordelia said, giving her a small smile. "It means you're Satan."

Willow giggled and promptly slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes
horrified. "I didn't just mean to..."

Cordelia sat up. "Hey. It's okay to laugh and stuff. Sometimes that's the
only thing that helps in serious conversations like these. If you can't
laugh, then the only thing left to do is to cry, and no one wants blotchy
eyes for the rest of their life."

Willow nodded slowly. "Are-- Are you okay. With what happened to you?"

Cordelia locked eyes with the redhead. "Can I change the subject for a
second?" she asked. Willow nodded somberly. "What would you say if I told
you that Xander kissed me tonight?"

Willow's mouth dropped open. "I uh... I guess I'd say good for you. And
him. And all of us. Is it my business?" she murmured honestly, blushing.

"That's what I was wondering," Cordelia said softly. "If it was your
business, if you would be upset over it. Because I'm not going to fall for a
guy who's in love with another girl again, not even if he's charming and
funny and... and..."

"Makes you feel better about things?" Willow suggested quietly.

"Yeah. I told him tonight, Willow. And he held me and kissed me and I felt
better. But I want to be sure that... I just don't know that I forgive him
yet. Or you," Cordelia admitted.

"I'm not sure that you should ever forgive either of us," Willow said
truthfully. "But, Cordy, he's so in love with you that it dizzies *me*
sometimes. If that helps you choose, then good. If it doesn't, it can't
really hurt you knowing. What does this have to do with any of what we were
talking about before?"

Cordelia shrugged, picking at an invisible thread on her comforter. "Trust,
I think. Forgiveness. Healing."

Willow looked away. "Have you healed yet?"

Cordelia smiled gently at her, a smile that warmed her face, even though she
didn't know which heartbreak Willow was referring to. "I think I'm getting
there."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I wish we could make love," Buffy whispered. Angel's head snapped up to
look at her. She almost seemed relaxed, except for the telltale sign of her
crunched forehead. The steam was still rising from the water, misting her
face lightly, and her hair rested in a bunch of curls on top of her head.
She opened her large eyes and glanced at him, then looked away. "Sorry."

Angel cleared his throat quietly. "Don't be. I'm just not sure if... Are
you okay with this subject?"

"Are you?" she countered, looking down at her injured body through the water.


"I am. But after... Considering... I mean..." He trailed off, searching the
ceiling for words.

"I wish that you could take away this feeling," she volunteered suddenly.
Angel quieted and leaned against the edge of the tub, slipping his hand
underwater to clasp hers. She looked down at their joined hands. "I feel
so... So bad inside, Angel. It hurts more than it does on the outside. And
I wish that we could-- I mean, if we could, I think that maybe it would," her
voice broke and then faded to a whisper, "Go away."

He reached his free hand up and brushed back the hair that was tumbling in
her face. "It wouldn't make anything better right now, Buffy. As much as I
wish for that intimacy too, it might hurt you more in the long run, and make
you resent me if we could."

Her eyes turned glittery with tears. "I guess." She quietly pulled her hand
away from the warmth of his and turned her face to the wall, closing her eyes
in what looked like grief.

"Don't." Angel's voice was surprisingly stern and Buffy's eyes fluttered
open again.

"Don't?"

"Don't do that. Don't take yourself away from me, Buffy. I don't think it's
right for you to do it with everyone else, I think it will make it harder for
you, but I simply won't allow you to do it with me. Don't close yourself off
to love and comfort and truth because you encountered the worst kind of pain.
Please." His voice was raw with emotion as he pleaded with her, and a tear
streaked down his face.

Buffy lifted her dripping hand out of the water and reached up to wipe the
tear away, pawing his face lightly. "I'm sorry..."

"Please, Buffy," he broke in, "Don't be sorry either. None of it's your
fault. None of it."

"I wish I could believe you," she whispered hollowly.

"You will," he promised, hoping that he was right. "Someday, when all of the
hurt is behind you and nothing else is inside of you other than the light
that always resides there, you'll look back and realize that there was
nothing you could have done to prevent any of this." Another tear, and then
another slid down his cheeks and Buffy looked at him, startled.

"Angel," she said wonderingly, "There was nothing you could have done either.
There's nothing that can be done."

He licked his lips. "I'll try not to blame myself if you'll do the same."

"We'll see," she conceded softly.

Angel paused, thinking over her comment that nothing could be done. "Yes.
We'll see."

"Angel?"

"What, Honey?" he asked quickly, shaking the drowning thoughts off of him.

Her voice was small, her eyes large and rounded and shining blue. "Would you
kiss me?"

He smiled tenderly at her, touching her face as though it were a priceless
jewel to be handled carefully and with love. "With pleasure, Beloved," he
answered, tracing her lips with his finger.

The kiss didn't lack passion, but it didn't belong with that category. In an
instant, it was realized that the kiss was about tenderness and nothing more
or less. Tenderness and sharing and understanding and love.

And, best of all, trust.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giles abruptly hung up the phone, looking at the two boys warily. "You do
understand what we're discussing, do you not?"

Xander nodded. "I'm all over it. We've all got aspects."

Oz looked at him and lifted his eyebrows. "Aspects?"

Xander shrugged tightly. "Yeah. Giles is the Watcher, but he's also the
Dad-guy. To all of us, but especially Buffy. I'm guessing he can make
Ripper come out on command. I tend to lean towards cheesy comedian, but I
have basic and not-so-basic military training which might come in handy. Oz,
you're the laidbackalooza guy, but you're a werewolf too, so there's a bunch
of things there that will help. Especially... Well, I think your sense of
smell. Right?"

Oz nodded mutely, understanding of what Xander was saying sweeping over his
face. Giles looked at them seriously. "Then we're set to do this? Please
tell me if either of you aren't prepared, because I'd rather know now than
later."

Oz's knuckles were as white as Xander's lips. "Ready," they murmured in
unison.

Giles stood, brushing off his slacks tensely. "Good. Then as soon as it
gets dark, we're going to see Willy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's getting cool," Buffy spoke up when Angel pulled away from her mouth.

He looked at her, gave her a small smile. "I didn't realize that you were
getting that tired of my kisses."

Buffy gave a little laugh and then seemed to realize what her situation still
was and calmed down, settling on a gentle smile for him. "The water. Not
the kissage."

"I hoped not," he said, gazing at her warmly. "Would you like help out?"

"Yes please."

His arms and hands went under the water, scooping her body in them and
lifting her out easily, as though she were a feather. The water dripped down
from her, splashing them both as it reached the bath, and he hugged her
close. Gently he kissed the top of her head and the placed her on the
toilet. He handed her a towel and allowed her to wrap herself in it and then
glanced towards the door. "Would you like me to get a robe or something for
you?"

She looked down at her towel-clad body and thought of her mother downstairs
and whoever else might be down there. She nodded. "Thanks."

"Sure," Angel said smoothly. "I'll be back in a second."

Angel opened the door and slipped out, shutting it quickly behind him.
Bolting to her room, he opened her top drawer and smiled, pleased, when he
found her underclothing. Plucking a couple of soft items, that would be sure
not to hurt her irritable skin, out, he turned around for the closet and
stopped silently when he saw Joyce standing there.

"I'm... Sorry, Mrs. Summers."

She shrugged. "It's okay. Where's Buffy and why are you holding her
underwear?"

If Angel could have blushed, he would have. Instead, he settled for looking
at the floor in embarrassment. "She's in the bathtub. She felt... She
wanted to get clean. I was just getting her some things."

Joyce bit her lower lip for a moment, a nervous tick she thought she had
gotten over when she was a teenager. "Did you watch her?" she asked sharply.

Angel's back straightened and he looked at her squarely. "I watched over
her," he corrected simply. "She didn't want to be alone. She trusts me."

"Why?"

Angel's face went blank as he thought that over. "I don't know why," he said
slowly. "Because I love her and she can see that. Because I live for her.
Because she loves me too. I certainly don't deserve her trust."

"Yes, I know," she said stiffly. "So... Nothing was going on in there?"

Angel looked at her intently and realized something in an instant. All of
her fears over her daughter's life had come out in this one incident and she
needed someone to hurt, to lash out at. "No," he denied calmly. "Even if
something could have been, without the potential loss of my soul, I love her
enough and have enough control to never ask that of her, for any reason."

Joyce nodded slowly, her eyes bright, and started to move away. He placed
his hand on her arm and she looked at him. "I love your daughter," he said
softly. "Do you realize how rare that is, true love? How impossible it is
for the two of us? And yet it's here, and it's here to stay. Nothing could
change that." He looked down to the items in his hands. "Buffy's probably
cold now. I need to get--"

She interrupted him. "I believe you."

His eyes met hers for a long moment. "I can't tell you how grateful I am for
that," he whispered.

She gave him a small smile and a small shove. "Now, go. To my daughter, and
bring her here and cover her up and let her get some more sleep," she
instructed, motherly nuances filling her tone.

Angel nodded compliantly and slipped the robe in the closet off its hanger.
"With pleasure, Mrs. Summers," he agreed. With that, he was out of the room
and her sight, leaving her to marvel at how quietly he moved, and something
deeper and more important than that.

How much he loved her daughter.