"So let me get this straight," Whistler said slowly. "Angel just lost three years of his life, starting right before I met him?"
"Exactly," Giles replied. "Willow was with him when he woke up, and he didn't even know who she was."
"She was with him when he woke up, huh? That explains it."
"Explains what?" Giles asked confusedly.
Whistler avoided answering the question at first. "Since he woke up, tell me this- is he different?"
"Different how?"
"His personality. The way he acts, the way he talks. Is he the Angel you knew?"
Giles looked at him for a moment, wondering where Whistler was going with his question.
"No, he isn't the same. He's not extremely different, but he's more open, more anxious to please."
"Less broody?"
"Exactly."
Whistler got up and began pacing.
"I guess I should tell you that I already saw him, on my way to the library. He and Willow were attacked by some vamps-"
"What? Are they alright?"
"They're fine, thanks to Angel. I was about to help them, when one of the vamps hit Willow-"
Giles stood furiously. "Is she hurt?"
"No, she's fine, but Angel was just as pissed as you are now. Then he proceeded to take it out on the whole gang. They were dust in under five minutes. I've never seen Angel fight so well, and it might be my fault..." he trailed off, lost in his thoughts.
Giles eventually grew tired of waiting for Whistler to continue. "What might be your fault?"
Whistler sighed as he dropped into his chair again. "When I first found Angel, he was a wreck. He was weak, filthy, and way into self-castigation. He was living like an animal. I brought him to LA, and he was there when Buffy was called."
"You mean..."
"Yeah. He saw Buffy, and loved her, long before she ever met him. Anyway, there was no way he was going to be any help to her in his bedraggled state. So, I trained him. Taught him how to get along in the world, taught him how to fight. But seeing what he did for Willow tonight, I'm thinking I used the wrong methods."
"Methods?"
"Yeah. See, Angel's always had that tendency to assume all possible guilt. In my haste to get him ready to help your girl, I'm thinking maybe I exploited that. See, his love for Buffy was his deepest inspiration to improve himself, to 'become somebody'. But at the end of a tiring training session, he wasn't really thinking about the love of his life. He hadn't seen her since that day, and however strong an impression love at first sight leaves, she wasn't the only thing he thought about. Anyway, if his energy was starting to lag and I could see he was ready to call it quits, I just found it easy to press that guilt button. 'Hey, Angel, don't you owe it to the people you've murdered to at least try a little harder?' Stuff like that. It wasn't nice, but I wanted him prepared.
Still, I didn't know I was doing anything permanent. I think I helped clarify his self-hatred. I thought it was for the greater good, but now, I'm thinking the ends didn't justify the means."
"Why do you say that?" Giles was fascinated by this insight into the unfathomable vampire.
"Well, tonight, when I saw him fighting, it wasn't to make up for a long list of crimes he needs to make amends for . He was fighting for Willow, and he was fighting better than I've ever seen. Maybe if I had made Buffy his inspiration back in the day..."
"You think Willow is the reason for his new prowess in battle?"
"C'mon, Watcher, open your eyes. Angel did, and the first thing he saw was the redhead. Now, I know that Buffy and Angel have that whole 'eternal love' thing goin' on. But what if you woke up from a lifetime of pain and horror to find Willow there, welcoming you back with open arms? You yourself said that he seems anxious to please. Well, who exactly is he so anxious to please? Is it maybe that tiny girl who is doing more for him than I ever managed?"
Giles stared at him wordlessly, overwhelmed by the implications of Angel falling in love with Willow. Whistler nodded, thinking along the same lines.
****
The two subjects of so much conjecture were oblivious to it all as they enjoyed themselves back at the mansion.
"No way."
"It's true."
"No way."
"It's true."
"No way."
"Willow, I'm telling you, I met Jane Austen."
"Well if it's true, which I'm not admitting, then she was lucky to get out alive. How did she get out alive?"
"Well, she was cute. But more than that, Darla hated her books, and I was sick of following her around."
"Jane Austen?"
"Darla. The day that I left her, I bought a copy of 'Persuasion' and left it on her bed. I can still hear her growling."
Willow giggled, both at the thought that an agent of evil like Angelus had used the literary tastes of his mistress to torment her, and at the fact that Angel was tracing random patterns on the back of her hand. "That tickles-" she started as she twisted to look at him, but cut off her sentence with a hiss of pain.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Angel's playful eyes were immediately filled with concern.
"Just touched my cheek. It's still sore."
He cradled her chin gently between his huge hands, examining the forming bruise.
"I'm sorry I let him hit you, Willow."
"Let him? Angel, you were busy at the time. Anyway, since you proceeded to collectively dust each and every one, I think an apology is definitely superfluous."
'Oh, she's smiling at me again,' Angel thought. 'If my heart is supposedly so cold, why does it feel all jumpy when she does that?'
He managed to smile back. Then he replaced her head on her pillow with the utmost care.
"No, Angel, I don't wanna sleep-" she yawned.
"You watched me stay unconscious for weeks. I can certainly watch you for eight hours." She laughed quietly, and the mansion fell silent yet again.