The air was too warm in Rio. Often humid and sticky, it made it difficult to breathe sometimes. Despite that, Willow loved the city. It surprised her, because it wasn't a place she'd have expected to feel comfortable. Kennedy had hated it, or maybe Kennedy had just started hating her. She didn't really know what went wrong there, unless she was being honest with herself and admitted that she'd rushed into things with a girl who could never take Tara's place.
Kennedy was gone now, off to Toledo or Cleveland or wherever Faith sent her in this new order of the council. And Willow had stayed. She had a nice apartment on a busy street full of colorful people who spoke to her in a language she was learning and it was easy to travel all over the world from here, wherever she was needed. Xander came to see her sometimes, as did Buffy and Dawn. Faith had even stopped by a couple of times, using one excuse or another but mostly enjoying the relaxing calm of the home Willow had made for herself.
Still, her previous visitors hadn't prepared her for the man she saw standing on her landing right now. It was late, too late for someone to be knocking, but she'd opened the door and found herself looking at a face from the past. He hadn't said anything yet, which was really strange, but he wasn't smirking or looking at her in a creepy way, so she figured he still had his soul. Not that he could actually lose it anymore, but she knew enough about magic to believe that nothing was ever definite.
"Angel," she finally said, stepping to the side. "Come in. I'm fresh out of blood, but I can make coffee. Not that you'd want any, but it will give me something to do while you tell me why you're here. I heard you were in San Francisco now, after the mess made in Los Angeles, but Buffy doesn't really talk about you, so I just hear via Faith, and she still blames you, a little, for Wesley dying. And I'm talking too much so I'll stop now."
Angel looked at her and smiled, just a small one, before he stepped inside. "I was in the area on business," he told her, looking around, "and I thought I'd come see you." He glanced at her. "I've missed you, Willow."
She suddenly felt like she was fifteen again and shouldn't let boys in her room, which was just really silly because, hello, she liked girls now. Women with breasts and soft touches and who hadn't dated her best friend and nearly killed her more times than she could count, soul or not. She nodded and smiled as she shut the door. "I've missed you, too, Angel."
End
A Visitor
Story Notes:
Originally posted on February 9, 2008