St. Patrick's Series

Friends or More?

Distribution: If you want it, take it, but tell me first

Summary: Building off SaberShadow Kitten's "Puppy" - The title says it all

Disclaimer: Not mine. I wish they were, but they're not. The wonderful people belong to Joss and Co.

Author's Note: This is my very first attempt at a Willow/Angel fic so please don't laugh at me. Okay, a few things I need to go over, this stays on tangent with "Puppy" with the exception that Patrick doesn't love Buffy. Part three in the St Patrick's Series. To the newer readers, Patrick is the alternate universe Angel who came over in "Doppelgangland" instead of Evil Willow. Thanks to my BETA-readers Meg, Allison, Ashley, and Assantra *whew - enough already!* And a very special thanks to Danielle who has kept me on track with her wonderful comments and by catching all my little mistakes. Thanks so much

Category: Friendship (Romance in later parts?)

Feedback: Oh please give me some. Anything other than 'Dear God you suck' will be accepted. Please tell me if I'm going completely crazy when writing this or if it could possibly make sense.

Rating: PG



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Part 1/2

"Ugh, I swear if I study anymore my brain will explode. I am in need of some serious fun. How 'bout it Willow? Up for a little Bronzin' tonight?"

Willow looked up from her textbook into the expectant gaze of the Slayer. "Sure! Oh wait, I can't. I promised Patrick I'd go to his apartment tonight."

"Willow, need I remind you that the Dingoes are playing tonight? This will be the fourth time you've missed them play in a row."

Willow cringed slightly at the gentle rebuke in Buffy's tone. "Oz understands. He knows that Patrick needs to feel accepted. Patrick is my friend am I'm going to be there for him. He still has nightmares you know."

Buffy stood up and stretched her legs. "Yeah, I know. Angel told me."

"See? I just want him to be able to get over this and be at peace. That's what a good friend would want for him. Hey, I'm late. I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

Willow gathered her things and walked out of the library.

"It stopped being about friendship a long time ago," Buffy whispered in the empty room.

*******

"Monet? You can't mean that! Monet was a joke compared to da Vince. Just look at the textures. Monet's are completely strangled. They are a mass of confusion stemming from a delusional mind."

"Angel, I can't believe we are supposed to be the same person here. Monet was a genius. I mean, just LOOK at his use of colors. What you see as a result of a delusional mind, others, like myself, see as a look at humanity's nature. I give up on you! You have no taste in art"

"No taste in art? You know as well as I that I spent over 50 years studying art! Gods! What won't you put your faith in? I bet you still go for all that fairy stuff we used to believe when we were kids!"

"Just sprites." Patrick said with a self-conscious chuckle.

"You thinking of Buffy? She's just like a little pixie. But don't you go thinking that way. She's mine" Angel finished with a good-natured growl.

"No, I was actually thinking of Willow. Just look at her. She's petite, she's got all that red hair, those green eyes, and dainty features. Just like out of a storybook. I can just see her with wings, flicking in and out of places, helping anyone in need." Patrick's voice trailed off, his eyes staring at an unseen picture.

"You think that much of her? Less than a month ago you couldn't even stand the sight of her." Angel said with his eyebrows raised.

Warning bells went off in Patrick's head. "She's one of those friends you can always count on." Patrick replied with a careless shrug praying Angel would drop the subject.

With a quiet, "That she is" Angel acknowledged Patrick's wish to move on to a different subject.

Patrick sighed inwardly with relief. He mentally strengthened his shields so he would never again come so close to revealing all the admiration and desire he held for Willow. "So, what do you think of van Goghe?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Part 2/2

"That isn't a word! I know for a fact it's not!" Willow sputtered, "I can't believe you Patrick! You are 243 years old and you're stooping so low as to cheat at Scrabble?"

He couldn't help what happened next. She was so infuriated at such a trivial occurrence that she reminded him very much of an angry kitten. Willow had never resembled Alissa more. Patrick threw back his head and laughed.

Willow stopped mid-rant at the sound coming from Patrick. At first she couldn't place it but realization soon dawned on her. He was laughing! A good, hard laugh. The tone was sweet and full of good nature.

Without thinking, Willow threw herself into his arms. Patrick nearly jerked back in surprise but he restrained himself, luxuriating in the simple act of holding her. To feel her arms wound in nonchalant abandon around his neck brought him happiness he couldn't even begin to explain.

"You have a wonderful laugh Patrick." Willow murmured, "But I still say mellifluotic isn't a word."

Patrick contented himself with a chuckle into Willow's hair.

END