SPOILERS: This takes place after Angel loses his soul but before Becoming, which never happened in my 'verse. I will keep and discard Buffy lore as I see fit.

Part 22

Angel must have slipped into unconsciousness, his body shutting down under the burden of his guilt. When he awoke, the first senses to penetrate the fog of despair blanketing his mind were the feeling of a warm hand on his forehead and the brush of silk against his face. The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was the curtain of hair, impossibly bright in the dimness of the room. As she moved, the silky strands rippled, catching the light of the candles she had lit like rubies basking in the glow of the sun. He found himself fascinated by the changing colors of her hair, as if the strands were woven with actual sunlight, resulting in an endless configuration of movement. The picture she made, that of perfect unworldly beauty, caused her name to die on his lips.

Her eyes locked on to his and he waited for her reaction silently, afraid with all his soul that she would pull away from him the moment he moved or spoke a word. She lay frozen, her upper body half draped over his where she had stopped her retreat at the realization he was awake. Her eyes were piercing his with deliberate intent, searching the unfathomable depths of his dark ones as if she had the power to access his soul through the portals they provided. Apparently finding what she was looking for, the expressionless features of Willow's face collapsed with relief. Flinging her arms around him, Willow buried her face in the solid wall of muscles defining his chest. He felt the warmth of her tears as her body convulsed with sobs. "Oh thanks Goddess, it worked. It worked… I can't believe he really did it. I thought I had lost you forever."

Not pretending to misunderstand her, Angel lifted heavy arms to wrap around her body, pulling her closer to him. The irony of their situation, at their apparent reversal of roles, did not escape the vampire. Instead of him being the one breaking down in the comfort of her arms, Angel was providing Willow with comfort, soothing her hysterics while he himself was relatively calm in the face of all that had happened. With a strength he hadn't known he had, Angel pushed his own tumultuous emotions aside, burying the guilt that was sure to come as he fully regained the memories of his time as Angelus so that he could comfort Willow. Her well being preceded his own and he knew it was her turn for catharsis.

Eventually, Willow lifted her tear stained face to look at the face of the man she loved. It was jarring at first. Before he had always been either Angel, Buffy's boyfriend, or Angelus, the man she had wantonly desired and then hated as she had never hated another. Now, starring at the angelic face before her, he represented something totally new and different, a third Angel. No longer was he an impenetrable citadel against which she must never reveal her true emotions. Willow had always desired this man, though she would never have acted on it, given her friendship with Buffy. But now, things were so very different. Angel was the man she had fallen in love with, whether she had known it was him or not, and she couldn't help but stare at him with uncontrolled love and adoration. He was hers now, and looking at the man she loved, seeing him with his true face, was a new sensation, one that would take some time getting used to. Her eyes couldn't stop tracing patterns over his face, drinking in every tiny detail of his features. Her tears quickly melted away as she moved to kiss him, reclaiming what she had thought she'd lost forever.

Angel, for his part, was relived to see that the lobe they had shared while he was masquerading as Adrian hadn't been lost. The naked emotion shinning from the depths of Willow's eyes was enough to quench any fears inside of him. Though they both knew there were questions and answers that had to be ascertained before they could move on with their lives, for now the need to hold and be held by each other was too strong to ignore. Angel lost himself in the depths of her eyes and the passion of her lips.

When Willow began to pull the velvet material of his shirt off his shoulders, Angel pulled away, his conscience overcoming the physical and emotional need within him. "Willow, are you sure this is what you want?"

Willow continued with her finger's ministrations while she answered. "I'm sure Angel. I know we have a lot to talk about, but I know that, right now, this is what I want. I love you, and I need you. I need this. I need to know that what we have is real, and not just some insubstantial dream that the rising sun will chase away like so many shadows. I need to feel your body against mine and know that I didn't dream you in to life. You're the only man I truly loved Angel, and I want to you to know just how much I love you."

"But Willow, we should talk first… I mean, I hurt you, I lied to you. This isn't even the face of the man you fell in love with. How can you be so sure…"

Willow silenced Angel's protestations with the touch of her lips and the slip of her tongue into his mouth. As she pressed her body closer to his, all rational thought escaped Angel's mind. Pure emotion took over, driving his actions as he undressed her with quick, nimble hands. He felt himself being swept up in the rip tide of his love for her, and of hers for his. It was if, with the simple feel of her warm, yielding body beneath his, the entire world disappeared, leaving only the emotions between them. As Angel entered Willow, his physical body becoming a part of hers as no man ever had before, there was no Angelus, no Buffy, no deceptions or deaths to overcome, just the pure, unadulterated need and love that only the other could fulfill. All that mattered was the fact that they were both alive and healthy and in each other's arms, sharing in a love that was truly a gift from the Gods.