TITLE: Where's An Exorcist When You Really Need One?


EMAIL: lex@bitchenvy.com


SYNOPSIS: Angel returns to Sunnydale at Buffy's request to help her deal with a problem that hits close to home.

DISCLAIMER: Nothing's mine but the bitterness.

NOTE1: My Willow Rage got the better of me, AGAIN. I needed to purge it from my system so that I could finish REAL fic. Hence this outpouring. (See, seneca, I'm trying, I'm trying.) This is badfic. Unbetaread badfic, at that. You've been warned.

NOTE2: If you're vehemently pro-Willow, you might not want to read this. But if you do, flames can be directed at me at lex@bitchenvy.com. They are always enjoyed and mocked.

NOTE3: Dedicated to my darling niece Pamela. Fight the good fight! <VBEG> Also for Tam and Ryan, because after all, I owe it all to him.


Absence did NOT make the heart grow fonder, Buffy mused as she watched Angel walk towards her with that long stride. In fact, absence made the heart hornier. Much hornier. So horny, in fact, that she was hard pressed not to run to him and leap on him.

But that would be bad.

Bad, bad, bad.

"Buffy," her ex-lover said as he nodded his head in greeting. "Hi." He smiled at her, one of his rare, dazzling smiles, the kind of smile that she would willingly kill to see happen.

"Angel," she smiled back. "Thanks for coming."

"You said there was a problem. How could I not come? Did Cordy get here okay? She left LA this morning --"

"--No, no, she's here. Already helping." Buffy's smile faded.

"What's wrong," Angel asked as he gripped her arm. "Are you okay?"

Buffy tipped her head up, allowing the longing that suffused her being to fill her eyes for one brief second. The answering darkening in Angel's gaze warmed her. It was still there, then. It would always be there. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

But they had bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

"Come on," she said, "I'll fill you in when we get there."

"Where's there?"

"The mansion."


When Angel first stepped into the mansion on Crawford Street, he thought they were in the wrong house. If it hadn't been for his old friend, the fireplace, he would have actually turned around and walked out the door.

Instead of his beloved gothic textures and fabrics, the mansion had been redone to resemble an IKEA showroom. Functional furniture with odd Danish names was everywhere.

He was in a completely new Hell. And this time, Satan was named Martha Stewart.

"Uh, Buffy...what did you do to the mansion?"

"Huh? Oh, just a little redecorating, the old look was so...oppressive."

Before he could comment, Angel noticed the other inhabitant of the room. Xander was sleeping in a corner, his face badly scratched.

"What happened to Xander?" Angel asked as he looked at the boy. "He run in to a gardening rake?"

"Um, no."

"But Buffy --" Angel broke off as he saw Oz stagger into the room, supported by an terrified looking Giles. Giles' face lit up when he set eyes on Angel.

"Oh, thank God you're here, Angel. Maybe you've seen this before, maybe you can help us!"

"Sure, Giles...but what's going on?" Angel was understandably confused.

Just then an unearthly howl echoed from the bowels of the mansion, and seconds later Spike came sprinting towards them. Buffy caught the shaking vampire as he ran past.

"Spike! What happened?"


Angel was amazed. His childe, at a loss for words? Impossible.

Giles placed Oz gently on the couch, and strode over to Spike. "Did she hurt you?"

"N-no. But she tried to...to touch me again."

Xander sat straight up, and screamed. "NO TOUCHING! BAD TOUCHING!!!"

Buffy darted over to him, and cradled him in her arms. "It's okay, Xander. It's okay, I promise. I won't let her touch you again. No more touching, I promise."

After a moment of mind numbing terror, Xander let go. "You promise?" He regarded her with red rimmed eyes.

The Slayer nodded her head. "Pinky swear."

Her words seemed to comfort Xander, and he settled back down into the chair. Buffy looked at Angel.

"Come with me, and I'll answer all of your questions."


"So Willow's turned into a sex fiend?" Angel said, after listening to Buffy's hurried explanation.

"Uh huh."

"Buffy, that can't be. Willow? Fuzzy sweater wearing Willow?"

"I'm telling you, Angel, she's attacked all the men. It started with Oz, but we really didn't notice it, 'cause, well, they're dating and a certain amount of attacking is okay..." she trailed off as Angel caught sight of Willow.

The redhead was in her cage, wearing nothing but a bedraggled feather boa. Angel winced. "Can't you...cover her or something?"

From the corner, where she was currently keeping watch, Cordelia sighed. "I've tried. She rips it off."

Eyes averted, Angel called out cautiously. "Willow? How are you?"

Willow froze. She had been singing to herself, but at the sound of Angel's voice, she fell still. "Angel?"

"Yes. Willow, how are you feeling?"

She tilted her head. "I feel fine, Angel. I don't know why I'm here, though. I'm kinda cold. Which could have something to do with the fact that I'm kinda naked. Why am I naked?" She walked over to the bars and slumped at Angel's feet. "What's going on, Angel?"

Before Buffy could stop him, Angel had unlocked the door and walked into Willow's cage.

"Angel! Don't do that!" Buffy called as he reached down to touch Willow's shoulder.

Suddenly, Willow exploded into a burst of activity, leaping to her feet and jumping on Angel. Startled, he staggered back, the redhead clinging to his chest, rubbing her naked body against him.

"Buffy!" he howled, "Get. Her. Off!"

"Damn it, Angel, I TOLD you not to open the damn door!" The Slayer grabbed Willow around the waist and tugged.

To no avail.

Willow was attached to Angel with the tenacity of a pit bull.

"Uh, Willow," Angel tried to reason, "Willow, you have to let go!"

Snarling, in some sort of feral frenzy, Willow ground her lips down on Angel's, gripping his head in her tiny hands.


Buffy stood still for a moment to survey the utter wrongness taking place before her. There was no reason for Willow to be touching Angel. No reason at all.

With a snarl of her own, Buffy grabbed Willow by her hair and yanked her back, off of Angel, so that the redhead fell to the floor with a thud. "Okay, no touching my man. Ex-man. Whatever."

"Aaaannnnggeeeeellllll," Willow called eerily, looking for all the world like an extra from the movie "Evil Dead".

Angel shuddered and stepped away from her, wiping his sleeve across his mouth. "Jesus!" he exclaimed, "How long has she been like that?"

"For about two weeks now. We can't handle it any more. She's attacking anything with a penis. Giles thinks that it's only a matter of time before she starts going for women as well."

"He's right. She's possessed."

"We've tried exorcism. Nothing has worked. We even had a priest and a rabbi come down here. Nothing. And what she did to the priest...!"

"I've never seen anything quite like this before."

"Great. You were our last hope, Angel. Now what are we going to do?"

From the corner, Cordelia piped up. "If we can't cure her, we'll have to kill her."

Buffy was startled. "Kill her? We can't kill her!"

"Why not?"

Angel frowned at the brunette. "Cordelia, we can't kill Willow."

"Remember those witches we toasted last month, the ones that were always chanting about the Power of Three? We could do that to her," Cordelia said to her boss.

"The Power of -- oh, I remember. Didn't you douse them in lighter fluid before setting them on fire?"

"Actually, it was hair spray. All that I had on me at the time, since you gave me no warning."

"They did go up with a big 'whoosh', as I recall."

Cordelia grinned. "I think well on my feet. And working for you, I have to, otherwise I'd be dead."

"I hate to interrupt this jaunt down memory lane, but Willow? Raving sex fiend, locked in the basement?"

"Oh, right," Angel said. "We can't cure her...but we can't leave her like this either. She's too difficult to manage -- what happens if she gets away?"

Everyone shuddered.

"I still vote we kill her."

Buffy and Angel glared at Cordelia.

She sighed. "Okay, okay. So we scrap that plan. How about we make her smaller?"

"Mini-Willow? Make her one-eighth her size?"

Angel shook his head. "That's kind of cruel, don't you think?"

Buffy sighed. "But we still don't -- " She broke off as she saw something in Willow's cage. Her eyes brightened.

"What?" Angel said. He recognized that look. No good things ever came of that look.

"I just figured out a plan. But I need Giles. I'll be back."

With that, the Slayer ran back up the stairs.


Moments later, she had the entire Scooby Gang assembled in the basement. Xander and Oz were huddled away from the cage with Spike, but Giles was standing strong, despite the rather rigorous fondling he had received at Willow's hands earlier in the week.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Buff?" Xander asked. "I mean, it's still Willow."

Buffy looked at Oz. Oz shrugged in a particularly Oz-like way. "I don't want to see her like this, suffering. At least Buffy's way, she won't be alone."

"So we're all in?" Buffy asked, her eyes searching out each of her friends. They all nodded. "All right then. Get to it, Giles."

Unhesitatingly, Giles drew a chalk circle for himself and stepped in it. On his cue, Cordelia lit the the bunch of dried herbs in her hand and began to wave them around. Chanting in Latin, Giles made several motions with his hands, pointed towards Willow, and suddenly, the room was filled with smoke. All the mortals coughed, while the vampires just blinked rapidly, everyone waving their hands to disperse the hazy veil.

"Did it work?" Spike asked, peering through the smoke.

Buffy walked over to the cage, reached through the bars, and grasped Willow.

By her tail.

"Well, at least now we finally have a friend for Amy."




Well, I feel much better now. <WEG> Now maybe I can write real fic. Love me, hate me, all mail to lex@bitchenvy.com.