Part 30

Angelus was astonished by Genevieve’s announcement. He had been certain that there would be a very specific process that he and Willow would have to go through in order for her to be his for eternity. A spell, a ceremony, a ritual--*something*. This new revelation was…fan-fucking-tastic, he thought with jubilation.

Willow was *his*.

Forever.

Already.

He would no longer have to worry that something fatal might happen to her before she could become immortal. Or that she might refuse the transformation. He could hardly believe it.

Incredible.

But, however unwittingly, he had led Willow to believe that she had a say in her destiny. His eyes flew to her face, shuttering his own overjoyed reaction to the news.

Willow’s bottom lip was quivering and her eyes were full of tears as she whispered, “But, but…”

In his rush to get to her, to offer comfort and damage control, he forgot the small dog dozing on his lap. In a lightening quick movement, Genevieve grabbed Amerie, moving her to safety.

Angelus kneeled in front of Willow and took her hands, which were tightly fisted and very cold. Crystalline tears slid down her cheeks, but her expression was blank. “Darling, I’m sorry that I misled you. I swear I didn’t know.”

She didn’t respond. He wasn’t even sure if she saw him. She seemed to be looking right through him, as if he weren’t even there. Whatever she *did* see had tears coursing down her cheeks more rapidly than before. “Willow, can you hear me?” Nothing. “Willow!”

She began to shiver, but didn’t show any sign that she had heard him.

Genevieve went to Willow’s side and stroked her stiff back sympathetically. “Oh, you poor dear.” She kissed the top of the shaking girl’s head. She looked at Angelus with a worried expression, “She’s freezing. Put your jacket around her and hold her. I’ll be right back.”

Angelus quickly did as she instructed and sat down with Willow on his lap. He rubbed her arms briskly and whispered comforting, apologetic words into her ear. He placed one of her fisted hands against his cheek and brought the other to his lips and flinched. Willow’s touch was always so warm. Her present iciness was very unpleasant to him, she just felt…*wrong* this way. He wrapped his tuxedo jacket around her more snugly and held her close, rocking her. Amerie whimpered and cried in distress from her perch on the couch, and he didn’t have a clue what else he should do.

“Stand her up!” Genevieve said sharply.

Angelus looked up in surprise; he hadn’t heard her return. She was holding up fleece sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt.

“Stand her up,” she repeated. “She’s in shock and very cold…obviously. We’re going to take her dress off and put her in these.”

Together, they quickly and efficiently undressed Willow and put the warmer clothes on her. She’d put up no resistance, but still seemed unaware of anything. While Genevieve was putting thick socks on Willow’s feet, Angelus demanded, “Make this stop at once!”

She glared up at him and sat back on her heels. “I see you’re still the same autocratic bastard you always were.” Her gaze softened, “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.” Redirecting her attention to Willow, she stroked the girl’s cheeks and kissed them. “Chére, you’ve just had one too many shocks tonight, that’s all.” She fussed, and hugged, and soothed like a mother hen, warming and comforting.

Angelus paced in front of them, completely at a loss. “You shouldn’t have just dropped it on her like that,” he said angrily.

“Quit bitching at me, you big ox. It’s for the best. You’ll see. Her life has changed dramatically over the course of one evening. She just needs some time. She’ll adapt. Don’t underestimate her. Now, make yourself useful and hand me Amerie.”

Angelus stopped and looked at her in confusion, “What?”

Genevieve rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently. “You heard me, you great oaf. I’m sure you noticed earlier that Amerie is like a little furnace. We might as well put her excessive body heat to good use. Besides, she’s quite the empathetic little thing and is instinctively comforting at troubling times.”

“Oh. Right.” Angelus scooped up the dog and deposited her on Willow’s lap.

Amerie promptly laid down and went to work, licking and nuzzling Willow’s still fisted hands, and humming like she had earlier.

Genevieve kissed the fuzzy little head and said, “Good girl.” Moving behind Willow, she began to massage her shoulders in an effort to increase circulation.

Angelus shook his head in bemusement. “Your dog makes the damnedest noises.”

Genevieve laughed. “I know. She’s an all around odd duck, but in the most delightful ways.” Her expression became serious again and she leaned down to Willow’s ear. “Chére, it’s time to snap out of it. You’re worrying your mate--not to mention poor little Amerie, who might get hurt feelings if you keep ignoring her.” She continued to coo and encourage as she removed hair pins. When Willow’s hair was loose, she tenderly combed it out with her fingers. “Angelus, your darling girl has the most glorious hair. Not only is it beautiful, it feels like strands of silk.”

Pride warred with impatience and concern, so his replies were at odds. “Yes, she has extraordinarily lovely hair,” he boasted loftily. Then he scowled and snapped, “But, goddamnit, Genevieve, she shouldn’t be like this. *Do* something. Maybe we should put her to bed?”

“Quit trying to rush her. This will resolve itself. I expect that her head is full of the aspects of immortality that frighten and disturb her right now.” She looked at him compassionately. “You’ll need to get used to the fact that she will accept some things more readily than others. Right now you have to start getting accustomed to the idea that this relationship is more egalitarian than anything you’ve previously experienced. Willow is your partner. As a master vampire—and an especially Draconian one at that—you’ll have to be doing some adapting your stubborn self.”

Angelus straightened regally and was about to have his say, but was interrupted by Amerie. She had stretched herself out and placed her front paws on Willow’s chest, ‘talking’ away—in a decidedly bossy tone. He couldn’t believe it when it worked.

Willow responded to the insistent little dog by petting her sides and smiling down at her. Amerie wagged and snuffled with delight, getting held and cuddled as a reward. “What a little precious you are! You’re just like Angelus. You see, he’s an expert at getting his way too.”

Angelus kept his acerbic response to those remarks to himself. He was too pleased with Willow’s recovery to object at the moment. “Sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re, um…over your funk.”

She looked up at him, but he couldn’t read her expression. “Am I?”

Angelus knew it was unreasonable, but his temper was getting more and more difficult to keep in check. Goddamnit, he thought, he’d made every effort to be straightforward and patient tonight. Sure, she had a lot to digest and adjust to, but couldn’t she just be happy and excited about one fucking thing?! She had everything a woman could ask for, for fuck’s sake. She lived in the lap of luxury and had *him*. Forever. He was a great prize. How could eternal youth and beauty combined with all of that *not* be construed as a good thing?

Accurately gauging his frame of mind, Genevieve gave him a stifling glance that told him to get his act together and keep his cool. He threw himself into a chair and began to calm his thoughts. He knew, without being told, that letting loose with an angry diatribe would aggravate the situation.

Once Genevieve saw that he was going to behave himself, she sat down in a chair adjacent to Willow’s and took her hand. “Chére, tell me what distresses you so and we’ll discuss it. I’ve been in your position and can help.”

Angelus was glad Genevieve was here to help guide Willow through this. In his hands, he knew, the situation would’ve just deteriorated further. He knew when to keep his mouth shut and let someone else see to his best interests.

Willow smiled gratefully at Genevieve, but her eyes were full of sadness. “B-before…” her voice trembled hoarsely, so she stopped to clear her throat. Another tear slid down her cheek and she began again, “Before, I didn’t feel so…disconnected from my old life. You know, a lot has changed, but my friends and family didn’t know that—I was still *me*. They all think I’m off at school, so we can e-mail back and forth—I’d planned to go visit sometimes. Now…” her voice broke.

“It’s alright, chére. Take a breath.”

Willow nodded and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. When she opened them the sorrow was still there, but now they held determination as well. “My parents are away a lot on business and aren’t particularly aware of me anyway. So, it will be a long time before they notice anything—you know, my not aging and stuff. My friends, though…I see myself visiting and getting hurt while helping them fight demons and stuff…”

“You will *not* put yourself in danger by helping the goddamned Slayer!” Angelus bellowed.

Genevieve glared at him. “Hush! You be silent and let Willow voice her concerns. That’s what we’re dealing with right now. Your concerns are a bridge that will be crossed when the time comes.”

Her tone brooked no argument and he slumped back in his chair sulkily, but nodded agreement.

Genevieve turned back to Willow and said kindly, “Go on.”

Willow gave Angelus a conciliatory glance, and then looked back at Genevieve. “Okay, we’ll just say…if I sustain *any* kind of injury while I’m with them. They’d notice that it healed right before their eyes. They’ll notice that I’m not aging.” She fought back a sob. “I’ll be cut off from everything I know—the people that I care about. Their lives will go on and I won’t be able to share them. They’ll grow up, go to college, graduate, get married…have babies—and I won’t be a part of that.” Her voice rose an octave and she tried not to cry. “And then they’ll get older…and *die*. I won’t even be able to go to their funerals. Everything and everyone will go on in the normal way of life and eventually all be gone. And I’ll be exactly the same.” She covered her face and sobbed brokenly.

Angelus was no longer irritated, but he felt helpless. He wanted to hold Willow, but Genevieve motioned for him to stay where he was when he went to rise. She stroked Willow’s hand and murmured comforting words.

Willow wailed, “Everything I’ve ever known will change and I…won’t. *Ever*.”

“Oh, my dear, please don’t grieve events that haven’t happened yet. Believe me when I tell you that grief is a companion that should never be sought out. It will find you in the fullness of time, but until then, life is a precious gift that should be celebrated. *Everyone* suffers the heartache of loss eventually. A long life has taught me not to take happiness for granted when it’s to be had.”

Genevieve sighed and was lost in her own thoughts for a moment. “I’m sorry. Putting myself in your place brings back memories. Good and bad.” She leaned toward Willow, grasping her hand tightly, “I have so much to tell you that will ease your mind. There are options for you to consider that you aren’t even aware of yet.”

Willow looked at her hopefully, “There are?”

Angelus was intrigued. “Really? Such as?”

Genevieve nodded emphatically. “Yes. But first I’d like to say—and this is important to remember in general—life is delightfully, and sometimes maddeningly, unpredictable. Fretting about what will be is a waste of time because, invariably, events unfold in a completely unforeseen way.” She laughed. “Fate dearly loves to prove us wrong. Please, don’t forget that—it saves one from unnecessary worry and frees one up to appreciate the good things.”

She sat back in her chair, crossing her legs and facing Willow, “So, back to your options. Because you’re a witch…”

Willow interrupted, “I’m not so sure about that,” she said hesitantly. “I’ve never…”

Genevieve put her hand up, “Chére, you may never have been aware of it, but it’s true. Trust me. You will find that you possess natural abilities, and there are things that I will teach you. For now, the most relevant are glamours. You’ll learn to…”

Suddenly, all eyes turned to Amerie, who was ensconced in Willow’s lap, snoring loudly enough to disrupt the conversation. Everyone laughed and the little dog slept on peacefully—completely oblivious to being the source of amusement.

Angelus was pleased to see Willow laughing. A little levity was exactly what she needed right now.

Willow stroked the little noisemaker very gently, so she wouldn’t wake her. “She’s so little! How can she possibly make such a big noise?”

Genevieve snickered and shrugged. “It’s a mystery. Mostly, I find it endearing. When we’re in bed and she’s snuggled on my pillow, next to my head, I don’t always consider it such an appealing trait, though.”

She rose from her chair and picked up Amerie, who snarled ferociously, then proceeded to snuggle against Genevieve’s neck and lick her enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, yes, little one, mama loves you too.” When she was carefully placed on the sofa, she objected with a cranky growl, stared daggers at Genevieve, then curled up contentedly to resume her nap.

Willow grinned. “She’s so funny!”

Angelus chuckled and agreed, “She is.”

Genevieve smiled proudly and resumed her seat. “Thank you. Almost every time anyone picks her up she will snarl or growl. Ignore it. My theory, after much consideration of her peculiar behavior, is that wires are crossed in that adorable little head, because she never gets angry. I’m sure she’d be appalled if she knew she knew her behavior could ever be interpreted as mean spirited. The crabby look she just gave me is the actual extent of her temper.”

Willow shook her head in amusement, “I’m so happy she’s here. What a cute little funny-bunny she is. She’s a great distraction.”

Angelus liked the little scamp’s quirks, but he was anxious to get back to the magic topic. Besides, expressing his fondness for their furry little guest would be bad for his image. He cleared his throat, “Tell us more, Genevieve; glamours sound promising.”

“Oh, they are!” Genevieve agreed. “With a little training, Willow will be able to create illusions. If she’s injured, she can make herself appear…well, however she wants.” She faced Willow again, “You’ll be able to give whatever impression you choose. Your friends would see whatever you wanted them to.”

Willow nodded thoughtfully, “I see. So, um, the same applies to aging then, right?”

“Yes!” Genevieve exclaimed with delight. “You catch on very quickly.”

Willow smiled, pleased with the praise *and* the concept. “That’s awesome. Nobody ever needs to know that I’m…different.” Her expression darkened slightly, “It doesn’t keep *them* from aging, of course, but at least I could be there for them.”

Angelus stretched out in his chair like a big cat. Things were looking up, he thought contentedly. Willow’s mood had lightened considerably—and as a result, so had his.

Genevieve was frowning now, deep in thought.

Willow looked at her suspiciously. “What now? What’s that look for?”

“Well…” Genevieve said slowly, “I’m just thinking, chére, you’re such an open sort of person…maybe it would be best if you put all of your cards on the table. I’d like to suggest that you at least consider telling your friends the truth.”

Willow and Angelus responded simultaneously and very differently.

“Uh, uh. No, no. Bad, bad idea!”

“Excellent suggestion!”

End Part 30