All Buffy related things are owned by Joss Whedon, etc, etc. All things related to Final Fantasy are owned by SquareSoft, etc, etc. In short, I own nothing except the idea for this story.
***
Angel lay in his bed quietly, waiting for the sun to set in an hour, thinking about the new prophecy. When he heard an unexpected knock at his door, he wondered to himself who it could be. Getting up from the bed, Angel went to the door and opened it to find Willow standing outside.
"Willow," he said nonchalantly, trying to hide the sudden rush of joy he felt at seeing her beautiful face, "come on in."
As Willow stepped past him into the apartment she'd visited so many times before, Angel couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement. He knew that he shouldn't be having these feelings for the young redhead, but he couldn't help them.
"So," he asked, "what brings you here?"
"Do I need an excuse to visit a friend?" Willow countered.
"Well, no…" Angel began.
"Well then, now that that's settled," Willow continued before he had a change to think of something to say, 'how are you?"
"Fine."
"You sure?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Considering everything that's happened at the library, with the prophecy and all, I just wanted to make sure you didn't spend the entire day brooding."
Angel smiled to himself and replied, "How is it that you know me so well?"
"You're easy to read," Willow answered his question with a shrug.
"Wait a minute," Angel said, "did you just say I was *easy* to read?"
"Well, yeah."
"But I'm a 250 year old vampire…you can't read me," Angel argued, wondering when his perfected stoic act had been un-coded.
"Men," Willow rolled her eyes, "alive or undead, you're all the same."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Angel asked, unknowingly stepping closer to the intoxicating witch.
"It means," Willow clarified, straightening to her full height, which still left her quite a few inches shorter than her latest subject of critique, "that you're all a bunch of egotistical males who feel that they can't ever show their feelings." She was enjoying this game.
Angel snickered at Willow's obvious attempt to goad him into joining the game. It worked. "I'll have you know that you women aren't all that different either."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Willow demanded.
"Just that you never come out and say what you're thinking. You always leave little hints and expect the men to magically know what you're thinking. 250 years and I have yet to understand the mystery that is women," Angel smiled at the little wheels he could see turning in the hacker's head. He was enjoying this. It wasn't often he could score any points in a verbal joust with Willow.
"Really?" Willow asked, her eyes narrowing mischievously.
"Willow?" Angel asked, getting nervous. He didn't like that look…
Before he knew what had hit him, he was suspended in mid-air, floating upside down, facing Willow. "Do you know how beautiful you look upside down?" he asked, slipping back into the roguish charm of his youth.
Of course, that particular statement seemed to further fuel Willow's increasing enjoyment with the ongoing battle of wits. Angel suddenly felt the world go out of proportion as he was spun into dizziness.
Finally everything finally stilled. "Oh, Willow," he called, still not giving in to her tactics, "you're not playing by the rules."
"Who says I have to?" she grinned impishly, "I can make my own rules." As her arms raised for yet another show of her abilities, Angel figured it was time to cut his losses, "Would it please my lady if I opted for surrender?" he asked, attempting to raise his arms despite his somewhat awkward position.
"Already?" Willow replied, silently reveling in her latest victory, "I suppose." As she let out an exaggerated sigh, the young witch lowered her arms, simultaneously bringing Angel into solid contact with the ground.
"You sure know how to spoil a girl's fun," Willow told him.
"No," Angel said, "I just know when I'm beat. But I can be fun if you want me to."
Willow's heart beat accelerated at the suggestive tone in his voice, but she tried to convince herself that it was nothing, that she was just imagining things.
Angel nearly died from embarrassment after he said those words. He began harshly berating himself mentally for slipping. He knew that it was impossible for someone as beautiful and wonderful and caring as Willow to ever love a monster like him.
"Ahem," Willow's voice broke the sudden uneasy silence that threatened to fill the room and spoil the moment. And things were going so well.
"Willow, I--" Angel began. He was cut off, though, as a wild flash of searing pain shot through his body. He gasped for unnecessary breath as he tried to keep the pain from filling his entire being. He felt as if he was being torn in half. Light began dancing in front of his eyes and he reached out for Willow's hand, seeking some kind of comfort or escape.
He felt it as Willow grabbed onto his hand, her voice frantic as she tried to discern what was wrong. Angel felt some of the pain release as her hand squeezed his, but it was too little too late, as the vampire slipped into darkness.
Willow's heart constricted tightly in her chest as she saw the glazed look in her friend's eyes, and watched helplessly as he slipped into unconsciousness.
"Angel!"
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