Nka (the first eight chapters)

["Christeen Demons" <Shyfox30@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Disclaimers: The characters of Buffy the vampire Slayer belong to Joss
Whedon and co.
The characters of star trek Voyager belong to Paramount.

Pairings: J/7; B/W

Archivists: Please don't post until Story is finished.

Feedback: Yummy like Brownie...all feedback, comments, questions are
greatly appreciated.



NKA (No known Allergies)

A tall, curvaceous blonde surveyed the loud, boisterous crowd that
surrounded her with intelligent vibrant blue eyes. She noticed the young
people on the dance floor, dancing to a wild beat that
she could never hope to imitate. She had tried dancing once...but it had
ended in a mishap and she hadn’t tried it again. She doubted she would ever
be able to relax her frame to be able to dance in
that jumbled, erratic way, and she wasn’t sure she would ever want to.
Nobody she knew ever danced in such a manner.

Her eyes moved from the dancing crowd to a table set away from the dance
floor, and the people surrounding it. Her keen study into human interaction
was needed as she studied the four young
people that convened there. A short blonde girl captured her attention
right away, the tense lines in her bodies frame giving away her irritation,
though the smile on her face belied such emotion.
The contrast was confusing, but she supposed the girl was trying to cover up
her true emotion, the one the white knuckles wrapped around her drinking cup
gave away. If the girl had been squeezing the cup any harder, it surely
would have shattered into pieces.

The woman noticed how the young blonde’s eyes seemed to keep flickering to
the red headed girl sitting across from her, as if she wanted to maintain
the contact but was afraid to let her eyes linger too long. From her human
interaction studies, the woman thought that the young blonde held a secret
attraction for the girl, but was afraid to reveal it. The woman wasn’t sure
why she would be afraid to reveal such an attraction...surely it was
acceptable in this day and age, as the
red headed girl’s close proximity to another blonde headed girl gave
evidence of. ‘That must be it.’ The woman thought to herself. The red
headed girl must already be involved with the blonde she was sitting next
to, and the other blonde must think that her affections wouldn’t be
reciprocated or appreciated.

She noticed the fourth companion around the small table kept looking around
the room, appearing to either be looking for someone to show up, or avoiding
the tension that the woman could sense in the group from her vantage point.
He was of an average height, not as tall as some of the men that she knew,
but his looks were aesthetically pleasing: dark hair, and dark brown eyes
set in a not too narrow face, being the described standards that most of the
people she knew looked for in a mate.

She was startled as cool, calculating green eyes swept across the crowd in
the room, before settling on hers for a brief period of time. The
assignment she had been assigned to reared it’s head as she stared into the
green orbs, wondering briefly if she had been recognized. She waited
until they moved on, back to their impassive study of the red headed woman
she sat next to, before she moved, standing from her seat and walking in the
direction of the pay phone.

“Hey! What’s the hurry, Baby? I thought me and you could get better
acquainted.” An overzealous teenage male that had been observing her for
some time from a dark corner, suddenly stepped into her path, blocking her
progress with a hand on her shoulder.

“Please, remove your hand.” The woman said, politely, keeping her voice low
hoping to avoid creating a scene.

“What? This hand? Why would I want to do that? You’re nice...and soft...”
The obviously intoxicated male started feeling up and down her arm in a
presumptuous manner. His face turned bewildered as he felt something
strange underneath the woman’s blouse. “...and metal?”

“Remove your hand or I will remove your arm.” The woman threatened in a low
growl.

“Hey...no problem lady...whatever you say.” The teenager said, backing up
rapidly from the blue fire in the woman’s eyes. “Freak of nature.” The guy
mumbled under his breath, while colliding with a dancing couple on the dance
floor. He apologized rapidly to the irate couple, then slipped into the
crowd, leaving the befuddled couple behind to stare after him.

Said Freak of nature looked around the room to see if the scene had caused a
large amount of disturbance. The woman’s eyes met an equally blue pair, and
she let her eyes fall demurely to the floor as she continued on her way to
the pay phone.

Stepping up to the archaic mode of communication, the woman picked up the
handset, then discretely hit the triangle shaped broach that was pinned to
her blouse. “Seven to Voyager, please
respond.”

Part Two

“Keep it steady, Tom. We don’t want to be detected by Earth’s satellites,
and keep an eye out for that Borg cube. I don’t want it finding us before
we find it. I’ll be in my Ready room.” Captain
Kathryn Janeway delivered her orders to the crew, then left them to handle
it. Entering the Ready room, she sat down in her chair and pulled up the
mission files StarFleet had graciously bestowed
upon her at the onset of this mission. She still thought that they were
crazy, sending one Intrepid class starship back in time to stop the Borg
from getting it’s hands on Earth’s greatest weapon. The fact that this
weapon just happened to be her Ancestor only increased her determination to
meet this mission with success. But she had to admit, even for her it was a
longshot. She had managed to get her entire crew back to Earth from the
Delta Quadrant seven years after she had managed to loose them there in the
first place, only to discover the Borg’s latest plan to assimilate humanity.

Now she was here, hovering over Earth, searching desperately for the Borg
drone that had been altered to appear human in the Borg’s attempt to get
closer to and assimilate her Ancestor. Kathryn wasn’t quite sure why the
Borg felt the deception was necessary. Earth’s present day
technological progress could in no way repel a Borg attack, and the straight
forward approach had certainly worked in the past...but the Borg Queen
seemed to be getting cagey in her old age.

This was a certain suicide mission...but they didn’t call her Captain
Insaneway for nothing. She readily accepted the challenge the Borg Queen
had thrown down before her. She had defeated the
unfeeling bitch before...she’d do it again.

Before she had a chance to get too lost in her thinking, she heard Seven’s
voice coming over the comlink.

“Go ahead, Seven.” Janeway said, initiating the oral com link in her
office.

“I have made visual contact of the target.” Seven replied, her voice a bit
muffled by the noise of the music and the crowd.

“I can barely hear you, Seven. Where are you?” Janeway shouted over the
comlink, trying to make herself be heard.

“It is a place visited by the locals...some place called ‘The Bronze’. I am
not sure why they would have chosen such a name. It doesn’t seem very
reminiscent of their Bronze age.” Seven processed the confusion for
deliberation later. “It is very loud though. I think Tom would like it
here.”

“You’re getting off track, Seven. You say you’ve found the Borg drone?”
Kathryn asked, sitting forward in her chair, tension filling her previously
relaxed form.

“Yes Captain. I was uncertain at first, but after making eye contact I
could easily see the visual implant...though I think a normal human might
not notice the difference.” Seven was glad the loud din in the room
prevented bystanders from overhearing the conversation. It would have been
hard to explain away.

“You made eye contact with the drone?!” Kathryn asked, alarmed, hoping
Seven hadn’t given herself away. “Have you been recognized?” If she had
been, Kathryn would pull this project right now, assign someone else to
track down the drone...even though it had taken days to track
down the drone, it wasn’t worth it if Seven was hurt in their attempt to
locate and eliminate the Borg presence.

“No. I don’t think I was recognized, the contact was too brief...though I
think I made her nervous, somehow.”

“Her?” Kathryn twitched in her chair, warring with her need to protect
Seven, and the need to protect Humanity from the invasion of the Borg.

“The Borg Drone is female, and I believe she has made contact with your
ancestor, in a round about sort of way. She seems to have insinuated her
way into her life by...becoming romantically involved with your
Ancestor’s...” Seven recalled the way the blonde had been clutching her cup
in a death grip and the impressions she had got from the scene. “Love
interest.”

“Swell.” Janeway said, her lip twitching wryly. “Sounds like a tactic the
Borg Queen would use.” The sarcasm in her voice was not lost on Seven, as
her blue eyes twinkled for a moment. “And has.” Seven commented, drawing a
sharp laugh from the anxious captain.

“I wish to follow them when they leave here...track them back to where they
live. Maybe we’ll be able to develop a more decisive plan of action, then.”
It was obvious from Seven’s tone that she
was in no way happy with the cat and mouse game they were playing with the
Borg.

Janeway sighed, reclining back in her chair and mulling the situation over
in her mind. The tactic could give them the information they needed to get
close to the endangered humans...it could also
get Seven caught if she wasn’t careful. The need for information was the
deciding factor, though Kathryn wanted to make sure the ex-Borg would be
careful. “All right.” She said, finally, the consternation tight in her
voice. “But at the first sign of trouble you beam yourself out...Is that
understood?”

“Yes, Captain.” The ex-Borg, replied.

“And for God’s sake, be discreet.” Janeway commanded, her blue-gray eyes
twinkling at the in-joke running between them.

“I believe after three years with you, I have learned to be discreet.”
Seven replied, hearing her lover’s bark of laughter echo over the comlink,
before she saw the group of people she was supposed to be trailing walk out
the door. “They are leaving. I’ll contact you again when I have more
information.”

“You do that. That’s an order.” Kathryn ended the communiqué with a gentle
warning to be careful, as Seven headed out the door.

Part Three

As the group left the Bronze, Xander ran into Anya, quite literally, who had
been running into the Bronze at the same time.

“Anya!” Xander exclaimed, barely able to catch the racing girl who had just
rammed hard into his chest.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Were you leaving?” Anya asked, noticing belatedly
that they had been heading for the door when she had run into them.

“Yeah...it’s getting late.” Xander gave his friends a brief, apologetic
look. “Look, I’ll see you guys tomorrow...Anya and I have to discuss the
rudeness of not showing up when one is supposed to.” Xander took Anya by
the arm and ushered her out of the door. The three girls remaining could
hear the verbal argument as they walked away.

“She’s so...worse than Cordelia.” Buffy said wryly, her blue eyes following
the arguing pair.

“Yeah...he really knows how to pick them.” Willow cast an amused glance at
Buffy which was returned by a warm grin. The mutual display of affection
disappeared when Tara linked her hand in Willow’s. Tara smiled as she saw
Buffy flinch, the Slayer’s hands curling into involuntary fists as she tried
control the extraordinary urge to hurt the other woman. The hurt in the
Slayer’s eyes filled the drone with a feeling of satisfaction, before the
blue eyes darkened to a mix of nonchalance and pride.

“Well...I guess we’d better get back to the dorm.” Buffy said, icily,
taking the lead as she walked out the door.

They remained silent as they walked back, the tension in the air so thick it
covered the night like a cloak. Willow could sense the tension in her
friend, she felt it in herself and between the two of them, but she didn’t
know how she could possibly fix it. She thought that Buffy would be happy
for her. She had found somebody to love, a fete she didn’t even know was
possible after Oz had left. But the look of betrayal and hurt that had been
in Buffy’s eyes the morning she had told her, revealed that Buffy wasn’t
feeling happy about the situation at all. Willow wasn’t sure why Buffy
would even care who she was dating. The Slayer had been spending so much
time with Riley, that she hardly had any time for her now as it was. And
now the Slayer was being all hurt by her affections for another woman? It
didn’t make sense.

Buffy did her best to keep her attention on the road in front of her, and
not on the couple that was nauseating her by their little displays. She
didn’t know why they had to stand so close, or walk hand in hand like that.
She tried not to remember that she had done the very same things with
Willow. She wondered why it had never occurred to her exactly why she had
done those things. She had just chalked it up to being something that best
friends did with each other. But it had felt
so special when she and Willow had done them. Now it just felt cheap.

Buffy was so wrapped up in her inner musings that she didn’t notice the
silent presence that followed steathily behind them.


Upon reaching the dorm, Buffy looked back at Willow wondering if she’d be
following her back into Stevenson Hall or if she’d be going with Tara to her
dorm room. The mere thought of it sent shivers of revulsion through the
Slayer, but she was helpless to control the negative reaction. She watched
as the two women stopped in the moonlight, holding hands as they stared into
each other’s eyes. They were just about to kiss when Buffy found she
couldn’t take the sight anymore
and the words leapt out of her mouth with no direction from her brain.
“Will, are you coming or are you going to stand there all night looking
goofy?” Buffy wanted to kick herself the second the words were out but it
was too late to call them back, so she just stood there waiting for Willow
to answer.

The words had the desired effect at least, breaking Willow’s mood as she
moved away from Tara and sent an evil look Buffy’s way. “Umm, I-I think you
two need time to talk.” Tara suggested quietly, pensive on the outside
while inside she was grinning like a Chesire cat. “Besides...I have a paper
due tomorrow.”

Willow looked at Tara concerned for a moment that Buffy had said something
to hurt her, then realized that she was just trying to be a good friend and
give them the time the needed to work through things. She hugged Tara
tightly at the gesture, hearing Buffy cough uncomfortably
behind her, then released her smiling brightly at her love. “Thank you.”
She whispered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back? It can be
dangerous at night.”

“I think I can handle it.” Tara said, smiling gently at the naive girl.
“But thanks, anyway. Good night.” She kissed her then, noticing the way
the Slayer’s fists clenched by her sides out of the corner of her eye, then
walked into the shadows, disappearing from sight.

Buffy glared at Tara’s disappearing back, then noticed the way Willow was
looking at her and forced herself to stop. She met Willow’s eyes and was
about to say something when she felt something tickle across her senses.
She scanned the parking lot, looking for whatever had
triggered her Spidey sense. She thought she saw something or someone
standing by a parked car, but when she went to get closer they vanished as
if they had never been there.

“Buffy?” Willow noticed her friend looking around. ‘Please don’t let there
be a vampire in back of me.’ Willow pleaded internally.

Buffy shook her head as if she were trying to clear it. “I thought I sensed
somebody. Guess I was wrong...as usual.” She muttered the last part, then
continued her way to the dorm.

Willow shook her head at her friend’s strange behavior, then followed her
into the dorm.


Seven had watched as the women had seperated outside Stevenson hall. Now
she at least knew where Katheryn’s ancestor lived. She was torn between
following the drone back to her dorm or contacting Janeway with the
information. She watched until the drone disappeared into the
evening shadows, then turned her attention back to the two women who stood
outlined by the light coming from the dorm. She watched in stunned surprise
as the blonde froze then seemed to zero in on her position with her stunning
blue eyes. She noticed her start to step forward and knew that she had
somehow been spotted. Seven quickly hit her combadge and asked for a beam
out.


Upon entering the dorm room, Buffy flopped down on her bed, her arm curled
under her pillow as she stared passively at the ceiling.

Willow looked at her friend’s position on the bed, knowing she was in a
depressed mood just by looking at her. She hesitated, looking at the floor
for a second, then nodded her head as she came to the decision to confront
her friend. “Buffy, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did, but yes.” Buffy sighed, not sure she wanted to get into what
she felt was sure to be coming.

“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t like Tara?” Willow asked, quietly,
sitting down on her own bed and staring at her friend’s closed face.

Buffy sighed, debating how to answer the question without hurting Willow’s
feelings. “Does it really matter, Will?” She asked, trying to stall the
argument she knew was coming.

“Yes.” Willow insisted, wanting the truth from the Slayer.

“Why? What does it matter what I think?” Buffy asked, looking over at
Willow, genuine confusion in her voice.

“Because you’re my best friend. And I need to know that my best friend and
the person I love are going to get along.” Willow answered. Buffy stared
at Willow’s face for a long moment, noticing every subtle movement of her
friend’s jaw as she waited for an answer.

Buffy sighed, wishing she could tell Willow that as long as she was happy
that’s all that mattered. But she couldn’t put her distrust in Tara aside
for the sake of her friendship. “No. I don’t like
Tara.” She answered finally, in a quiet voice, cringing internally at the
hurt look that crossed the intense green eyes before her.

“Why?” Willow asked, the tears in her throat almost making it impossible
for her to get the words out.

‘Tell the truth.’ Buffy’s mind whispered to her, seductively. ‘Tell the
girl how you feel about her.’ Buffy shut the words out, refusing to listen
to their call. Where the next words came from, she really had no idea.
“Because somehow I get the feeling that she’s not quite human.” Buffy would
swear later that the words shocked her as much as they did Willow.

“Oh.” The green eyes turned hard as emeralds as they stared directly into
the Slayer’s soul. “Look who’s talking.” The words were like a slap
across the Slayer’s face, the pain lasting far longer than a slap would
have. The Slayer stood from her bed, grabbed her leather jacket and headed
for the door.

“Good night, Will.” Were the only words the Slayer said, before the door
slammed shut, leaving Willow to cry alone on her bed.

Chapter four

“There you are. I was starting to wonder if you were going to make it.” The
words came out of the shadows as Tara stepped into her unlit dorm room. Her
borg enhanced eyesight made out the masculine form reclining on her bed, and
she smiled in a predatory fashion as she watched him
stretch, his muscles rippling with the movement, before he sat up and stared
at her outlined form through the darkness.

“I made it.” Tara said simply, letting her eyes travel over the human in
front of her, appreciating the perfection of this species male form.

In order to pass herself off as a human, the Queen had made certain
adjustments to her programming. She was now able to think and feel for
herself, and the only voice inside her head belonged to the Queen. She
relished the fact that she was special, and lived only to serve the
Queen. Her release from her drone state was what allowed her to fully enjoy
this human in front of her.

“And Buffy?”

“Is at her dorm, probably arguing with Willow as we speak.” Tara felt a
great deal of satisfaction at causing the strife between the two friends.
She had watched their interaction for a great deal of
time...and when the Queen decided that the only way to get to Buffy was to
go through Willow, Tara was only too happy to comply.

The man sitting on her bed had done his job perfectly, managing to keep the
Slayer off balanced and distracted enough so that Tara could catch the
red-head alone and work her perfection on the unsuspecting human. Now
Willow was hopelessly in love with her, or at least she thought that
she was, and a grin of triumph lit up the Borg’s face.

“So, I get my reward then.” Riley Finn said, stepping forward to wrap his
arms around the Borg’s waist.

“No. You get a taste of things to come.” Tara corrected, bringing her lips
to Riley’s and kissing him passionately. She used her enhanced strength to
pick the human up and position him on the bed, divesting herself of her
clothes before coming down on top of him, feeling him grow excited beneath
her. She heard the human’s groans of pleasure as she gave him exactly what
he wanted.


Tara thought it was curious the way the human fell asleep after he was
sated, but she gave it no more than a nanosecond of thought as she watched
him sleep, his face relaxed as he slept flat on his back, taking up most of
the room in the bed so that the drone was forced to lie upon him. She
didn’t mind, the feel of her flesh upon his reminded her of what they had
done before and she was curious to discover that she had liked the
sensation, her nerves had been left tingling still and she
contemplated waking the human up to try the act again.

‘Do not forget your place, Eight of Nine of Unimatrix zero two.’ The sharp
voice filling her mind brought her to complete attention. “You are still a
drone. Try to remember that.”

‘Yes, my Queen. Do you want me to assimilate him?’ Tara questioned, ready
to do whatever her Queen bid her to do.

‘No. Not yet. I may still have plans for this Riley Finn. The
human...this Buffy Summers...is still a formidable foe. Until she is
completely overcome with sorrow and loss she will continue to be
dangerous. Do not let your guard down.’

‘I will not, my Queen.’ Tara acceded to the powerful voice in her head.

Chapter 5

Buffy’s argument with Willow gnawed at her like a sore tooth all the way to
Willie’s bar...and by the time she got there, she was about ready to kill
someone...or something. Flinging open the door, she barreled inside
leveling her icy blue eyes on the undead denizens of the bar. They took one
look at the pissed off Slayer, and cleared their tables, edging out past her
and through the door. If she hadn’t been so consumned with her anger, she
might’ve thought the rapid clearing of
the place was funny. But all she could think now was that even the
creatures of the night didn’t want to be around her...not that she could
blame them any.

Willow’s words to her had stung, partly because she felt they had a ring of
truth to them, but she supposed she deserved it for the things she had said
to her.

“Great, Slayer. Once again, you scare away my customers.” Willie
complained, starting to wipe up his bar with a dirty washrag. Buffy glared
at him as she sauntered up to the bar. “Shut up and
give me a beer, Willie.” She sighed, grimacing in disgust as she sat down
on a dirty stool. She had given up drinking beer since the “Cave Slayer”
incident, but the moment seemed to call for it,
so she decided she’d deal with any possible consequences later.

“Are you sure your old enough to drink?” Willie questioned her
suspiciously. The blue eyes lifted to glare menacingly into his and he
gulped noticeably. “Right...one beer for the Slayer, coming up.” He
hurriedly poured the requested beverage from the tap and handed over the
foamy liquid to the Slayer, watching wide-eyed as she drank it down in
several large gulps.

“Again.” The glass hit the counter with a loud thump, as she requested a
refill. This one was filled and drank in the same manner, and the Slayer
requested a third one. She didn’t guzzle this one down though, simply
staring at the amber liquid as if she were searching for the meaning of life
in the tiny bubbles.

“What’s the matter, Slayer? You look like somebody ate your puppy.” Spike,
who had just come out of the men’s room, noticed the rather depressed Slayer
sitting at the bar and decided to have some fun with her.

Buffy growled at the sound of his voice, closed her eyes and counted to
three, hoping that when she opened them again he’d be gone...but he was just
sitting on the stool next to her, grinning like a mad Englishman. “What do
you want Spike?” She asked, a less than tolerant tone to her voice.

“I just couldn’t help but notice how terrible you look. An unhappy Slayer
is a dead Slayer...I should know, that’s how I got to two of them.” Spike
let a predatory grin flash across his face. “I
just wanted to know how I could help.”

A sardonic look passed over the Slayer’s eyes. “Yeah, right.” She answered
shortly.

“All right, then. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when you feel the life
being drained from your neck.” Spike replied, getting up from the stool.
“Just sit here and wallow in your own self-pity. It’s worked wonders for
me.” He dropped a crinkled bill on the bar, and watched in slight amusement
as Willie snatched it up and put it in his register...it wasn’t often that
his customers were paying, after all.

Buffy watched Spike as he walked out the door and disappeared into the
darkness beyond, then she shook her head. “Idiot.” She muttered under her
breath, before taking another sip from the bubbling brew.

She sat there quietly, trying not to think, period, when the song that
played on the juke box in the corner captured her attention, and she groaned
at the slow sad quality to the tune.

I still remember the night we met.
You said you loved my smile.
But your love for me was like a summer breeze.
Oh, it lasted for a while.
I could hold on a little tighter I know.
But when you love someone,
you’ve gotta let ‘em go.

“Ugh...Country. Don’t tell me your regulars are Country/Western fans.”
Buffy said, grimacing at the emotions the words she heard evoked.

“What can I say? They love all forms of human suffering.” Willie grinned.
Buffy raised a pale eyebrow at that, but she didn’t answer, listening to the
tune on the juke box intrigued.

So, I’m gonna smile.
Cause I want to make you happy.
Laugh, so you can’t see me cry.
I’m gonna let you go in style.
Even if it kills me.
I’m gonna smile.

Would it kill her, Buffy wondered to herself, to pretend to be happy for
Willow. Did she really have to hurt her by actively disliking Tara without
even revealing the reason why? This guy seemed to have the right idea.

Kiss me once for the good times baby.
Kiss me twice for good bye.
You can’t help how you don’t feel.
And it doesn’t matter why.
Give me a chance to bow out gracefully.
Cause that’s how I want you to remember me.

She wondered to herself what it would hurt if she went back and told Willow
the truth, apologizing for her previous behavior first, of course. She
didn’t expect Willow to return the feelings, in fact, she doubted that the
Wiccan would, but it might be their only chance to clear the air between
them, and then Buffy could possibly let go as gracefully as the guy in the
song did.

On the courage built on three beers and a song, Buffy got up from the stool,
swaying slightly as the blood rushed to her head for a beer induced moment,
before ambling nonchalantly out of the bar. Willie watched until the
slightly inebrieated Slayer was out of sight, then shook his head muttering
quietly to himself about crazy Slayers before he turned his attention back
to cleaning up the bar.


Chapter six

Buffy stumbled into the dorm room, practically tripping over her own two
feet as she did, and was surprised to see that Willow had fallen asleep with
the light on. The red head was curled up on her side, facing the door, one
hand was tucked under her cheek on the pillow, and Buffy thought she looked
like an angel. Making her way over to Willow’s bed, tripping over her
companion’s shoes in the process, she sat on the side of the mattress,
careful not to squish her sleeping roommate, and studied the gamine
features. She could see tear tracks staining the too pale face, and
puffiness in the closed eyes. It tore at her heart to know that Willow had
been crying, and that she had caused it. “I’m a bad friend. I don’t
deserve someone like you in my life.” Buffy
reflected aloud. Her fingers found the path the tears had taken, and traced
it slowly. She marveled at how soft the skin felt under her fingers while
she memorized the shape of her friends face.

Willow felt the touch in her subconscious mind, and it drew her up from her
dream world. Caught between being asleep, and waking, Willow felt the bed
being jostled, and then a weight settled around her shoulders and a soft
breath could be felt against her neck. Breathing in, she
could smell Buffy’s unmistakable scent mixed with the stronger aroma of
beer. Her heart sped up, then settled into a steady, pulsing beat in her
chest. She heard a soft sigh in her ear and she opened sleep dazed eyes,
reluctantly. She sensed a distinct difference in her friend from how she
had been earlier. “Buffy?” Willow whispered.

“I’m sorry, Will.” Buffy breathed against the red head’s neck, not wanting
to move from the warm, comfortable spot she had settled into. Her lips
brushed against the tender skin as she spoke, and it sent a shock of
awareness through them both.

“It’s okay, Buffy.” Willow tried to reassure her gently, as she rubbed
soothing circles on the Slayer’s back.

“No...no, it’s not.” Buffy denied, feeling the weight of her guilt mingling
with the desperation she felt. The overwhelming need to grab on to Willow
and never let her go battling with the feeling
that she was already too late. “You think I don’t like Tara for no reason,
but it’s not true, Will. It isn’t.” She insisted, feeling the form beneath
her tense up at the words, but she couldn’t let it stop
her. If she did, all was lost.

“What are you saying, Buffy?” Willow asked cautiously. She could feel the
urgency in her friend, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for round two with
her upset friend.

“I love you.” Hearing the soft whisper made her heart stop beating.
Whatever argument she had been expecting, this certainly wasn’t it.

“What?” She squeaked, wide-eyed as Buffy picked up her head to stare down
into her eyes.

“I love you, Wills.” The Slayer whispered again, sincerely, looking deep
into the troubled green eyes. She saw the doubt and confusion mixing with
something else, something that gave her a glimmer of hope. A returning
gleam of cautious hope and love.

“But...” A half formed protest died on the Wiccan’s lips as they were
touched by Buffy’s in a tender caress. The kiss didn’t last long, just long
enough to release something she had kept hidden and trapped deep inside
herself. A fire she had lit long ago for a mysterious, strange new girl,
named Buffy Summers, and had kept hidden under a bushel so it wouldn’t be
discovered.

She also tasted the beer on the Slayer’s lips and smelled it on her breath,
and knew that her friend was either drunk or halfway there. And knew that
it might be the cause for the unexpected declaration. She waited until
Buffy had moved her head back again, then took a steadying breath. “Are you
drunk?” Green eyes peered into slightly glazed blue ones, catching the
sudden guilt in them.

Looking like a scolded child, the Slayer dropped her eyes for a second,
unable to maintain the connection as she answered the question. “No...I
only had one...okay two.” She said, her fingers betraying her by holding up
three.

Willow heard Buffy’s words, and saw the unmatching number of digits and
shook her head sadly. “Go to bed, Buffy. Sleep it off.”

“What? No, Will. You’ve got to believe me. I really do love you, with all
that I have and all that I am...Forever.” The words were said so
passionately, and so eloquently, at least coming from somebody that was
slightly intoxicated, that Willow almost gave in on the spot to the inticing
lips that spoke them. But there were two major trouble spots that she was
having trouble seeing past.

“What about Riley? And Tara?”

“I don’t love either one of them.” Buffy stated, shaking her head
stubbornly. “I just love you.” And before Willow could stop her, the
Slayer started kissing her again, deepening the kiss before she had a real
chance to protest.

It occurred to her, while she met the Slayer’s probing tongue with her own,
that she really should be struggling, or at the very least protesting
instead of idly giving in to the electrical surge that
sang through her veins. But it felt so good, and she was so overwhelmed
that she couldn’t quite make herself stop. Before she knew what was
happening, she was helping Buffy pull her top off over her head. She
absently noted as the Slayer tossed it aside where it ended up, but her
attention was quickly brought back to the insistent mouth seeking her lips.
The rest of their clothes got lost in a similar manner, taking only a second
to break away from each other while they rid themselves
of each others clothing, before returning to the others lips.

The two of them merged on the small bed, discovering new territory that they
had previously only dreamed about. The haze Buffy’s head swam in was
increased by the heady passion. She feasted on the sweet skin of her best
friend, unable to believe this was really happening, and unwilling to let
any inch of this sweet body go unexplored.

Willow had stopped thinking altogether, unable to process any kind of
thoughts through the thick, pleasure filled daze that was consuming her.
All she could feel was Buffy’s hands...all over her,
and her unmitigated need to explore Buffy with the same amount of
thoroughness.

Buffy spent long moments getting intimately acquainted with the soft peaks
of Willow’s breasts, feeling her shake and shudder at the attention. Strong
hands wound their way into the Slayer’s hair, and she felt them tighten
convulsively on her scalp every time she sucked and nibbled on a sensitive
nipple.

Willow felt herself tremble as Buffy’s lips trailed lower, grazing her
abdomen with gentle strokes of her tongue. She knew where her friend would
end up and it sent a jolt of trepidation mixed strongly with scorching heat
through her. The first stroke of a warm rough tongue sent the hacker
straight up, her hips bucking off the bed at the exquisite sensation.

Buffy had to grab hold of the thrashing hips, to keep her in place as she
loved her with her tongue. As she stroked her lover’s clit with her tongue,
she could feel warm, wet juices coating her chin, and brought her tongue
down to get her first taste. She tasted quite wonderful, Buffy decided, as
she lapped at the copious wetness.

Willow felt like she was going to come apart at the seams at any second, and
a low keening sounded in her ears...she was so wrapped up in the throbbing,
pulling sensation that was happening in her groin that it took a few moments
before she realized she was the one making the
sound. She could feel Buffy’s excitement in the warm wetness the Slayer was
leaving on her leg, and it only added to the wave of passion that was taking
her higher. She peered over the abyss for a long, terrifying moment, before
she felt Buffy taking her over the edge, her whole body
tightening with the ecstasy that was washing over her.

Buffy knew when Willow went over the edge, the added moisture being only her
first clue as the low noise her lover had been making all along escalated
into a sharp pitch and she could hear her name being echoed by the four
walls that encircled them. The total joy of sending her best friend over
the edge, sent Buffy into her own orgasm and she gasped sharply, her body
doing its own dance of convulsions on Willow’s leg as she came.

Somehow, Buffy found the strength to crawl back up her friend’s body, to
kiss her one more time before she fell limply on top of her, satiation and
exhaustion, not to mention the beers she had drank earlier, sending her into
a deep, dreamless sleep.

Willow watched her in startled amazement for a moment, her head spinning as
she came down from the high place Buffy had took her to only seconds before,
and leaving her with a myriad of emotions to wade through.

In one night, Buffy had opened a place in her heart that she had thought
locked up permanently. But as much as she wanted to bask in the incredible
discovery, she knew they would face a few problems on their way to wherever
this new road took them. What to do about Tara was forefront in her brain,
but feeling the exhaustion overcoming her, she decided tomorrow would be
soon enough to figure everything out. She curled herself around her new
lover’s body, settling into the
warmth as she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Seven

Janeway entered the conference room, cup of hot, black coffee in one hand,
and greeted the experienced faces of her bridge crew. They had all served
her well in their own capacities during their time in the Delta Quadrant,
and she was graced by their prescence here now. The seven faces looked at
her expectantly as she sat down, and waited as she took a deep breath.

“What do we have?” Janeway asked finally, leveling them all with a level
one Janeway stare, as she waited for the information they had gleaned from
Seven’s report earlier.

“Stevenson Hall is a dormitory used by the students who attend the
University of Sunnydale, California. A school in which it appears your
Ancestor now attends. The University itself burned to the ground in the
year 2004 under some very strange circumstances. Your Ancestor apparently
was questioned about the incident, having been found near the place at the
time it started, but no real cause was ever confirmed. They have seemed to
chalk it up to faulty wiring, but there was one report filed under the name
of one Quentin Travers, that claims that Buffy started the fire herself.”
Seven gave the report without any hint of an inflection in her voice, but
Captain Janeway could sense a mere hint of a wince at the last part. This
wasn’t the only school the girl had been
accused of burning down...it being one of several actually.

“Great...my ancestor was a pyromaniac.” Janeway said, drolly, hearing a
small round of chuckles erupt around the table. “Did you find any way to
get us closer to her without raising suspicions?” Janeway asked, leaning
forward in her chair, her eyes resting on the impecable form of her lover.

Seven looked extremely uncomfortable. If Janeway didn’t know better she
would swear the former Borg was squirming in her seat. It was Tom Paris
that piped up, a charming grin lighting his boyish features. “Well...we did
find one way, Captain, although I’m not too sure that you’re going to like
it.” Tom cast a mischievous look at Janeway, watching her features to see
if she was in any way interested in what he had to tell her.

A russet eyebrow rose on her fair brow, as she felt all eyes suddenly
bearing in on her. She wondered what on Earth they had found, that would
make her uncomfortable and cause Tom Paris to grin at her like that. “Well,
spit it out, Lieutenant.” She said, finally, growing impatient.

“How do you feel about being a substitute teacher, Captain?”

*****

Captain Katheryn Janeway strode down the long corridors of the Starship
Voyager, consciously aware of the Lieutenant that dogged her every move.
“How do you even know that they need substitute teachers?” She asked,
finally, groaning internally as her logical side finally gave into
the demands of the mission presented to her.

“I checked it against Earth’s database...apparently one Professor Walsh,
your Ancestors Psychology teacher, was killed about a month ago in a tragic
accident. They haven’t found a replacement for her yet. I got you listed
in as a replacement for her, and Seven in one of the red
head’s computer courses to keep an eye on her.”

“Looks like you’ve taken the decision right out of my hands, Lieutenant.”
Janeway said, a tone of wryness softening the otherwise harsh tone. Tom
winced as the realization that he had overstepped his bounds kicked him
upside the head. He had been so eager to see his plan work that he hadn’t
even waited for Janeway’s go ahead before he had registered the Captain and
her Astrometrics officer as replacements.

“Yes Ma’am.” He replied, his tone far more subdued that it had been a few
minutes prior to that.

“See that it doesn’t happen again, Lieutenant.” Janeway reminded him, the
tone of command sharp in her voice.

“Yes, Captain.” He replied, feeling suddenly like a first year Cadet.
Janeway stopped in the middle of the corridor, her frost blue eyes starting
deeply into him, causing him to want to shuffle from foot to foot.

“Dismissed.” Tom nodded briefly, still reeling from the edge of steel in
his Captains voice, then started to walk the other way towards his quarters
and a much needed glass of replicated whiskey.

Janeway nodded to herself, feeling confident that she had reestablished her
hold as Captain quite efficiently, and started to walk away, when it occured
to her that she had no idea what twentieth century women wore. But Tom’s
fascination with the twentieth century was well known, and she
knew he would be able to help her.

“Tom.” The sound of the Captain’s voice halted the fleeing Paris in his
tracks, and he turned back to stare at her respectfully.

“Captain?”

Janeway smiled at him, ruefully, wondering how she always managed to get
herself into positions like this. “It just occured to me...I have no idea
what a substitute teacher would wear.”

A smile lit up Tom’s face, glad to be back in his Captain’s good graces, or
at least in a position to earn his way back. “Stick with me, Captain. I’ll
teach you everything I know.”


Chapter eight

Willow lay in a half reclined position, her face pensive as she observed the
total peace that filled her best friend’s face as she slumbered. She had
slept for a few hours, but her dreams of the night’s events woke her up to
the day’s realities. Buffy’s profession of love had taken her by surprise,
and now she was at a loss as to what to do. She ran a gentle hand through
the blond hair, remembering how soft it had felt as it had flowed across her
skin, trailing the soft lips that had been determined to drive her wild.
The finger traced the soft slope of her friend’s cheek, as images flashed
through her mind of how beautiful the blonde had looked in the daze of
passion, how powerful the blue eyes had appeared as they had glowed with the
fires of her desire.

Her mind warred with the images of love, and the feelings of guilt they were
causing to rise in her chest. She knew that she loved Buffy, had been in
love with her from the moment she had waltzed into her life, carrying a dark
secret and haunted deep blue eyes. She was the unattainable one, the one
she had thought she could never have, the one who had shaken her from her
shell and made her look at the world around her. Her love for the Slayer
was deep, and had been built over
a long period of time.

But what about Tara? Just because she hadn’t known the shy wiccan that
long, did that make the love she felt for her weak by comparison. She could
imagine the hurt on her face in crystal, sharp clarity and it brought such
pain to her heart that tears filled her eyes.

How was she supposed to choose? She knew a decision she made was going to
hurt a person that she loved, and it made her cringe at the thought of
seeing the pain filling the cornflower colored eyes. She already knew who
her choice would be, even if it ultimately turned out to be the wrong one.
The love Buffy had unleashed within her soul was glowing with a fierce
protective spark and it refused to be held back. It was dimming the barely
remembered love she had professed to feel for Tara, and it scared her to
think she was so fickle that she could proclaim a love for somebody one day,
then turn around and sleep with another that very night.

Buffy stirred in her sleep, bringing Willow’s attention back to the tousled
head that lay quite contentedly on her chest. Her fingers resumed their
tender motion, sifting through the long blonde
hair, as she brushed the strayed strands back from the Slayer’s forehead.
She wondered what she would say to her when she woke up, and felt an uneasy
nervousness building up inside.

Buffy felt the tickling motion in her sleep, and her face scrunched as her
subconscious mind tried to figure out what was causing it. Still half
asleep, one hand reached up to brush the irritating fly that she thought was
buzzing around her head away, and encountered warm, smooth flesh instead.
Her fingers closed loosely around long tapered fingers and she held them
gently as they rested beside her head. “That tickles.” She murmured
softly, before going silent again, simply soaking
up the feeling of holding the soft hand in her own.

It took her a few long moments to register that she was holding hands with
someone, still being somewhat in a daze, but soon images of making love with
Willow filled her mind with a burning clarity, and her eyes popped open in
shock. She shut them again, rapidly, hoping against all hope that Willow
hadn’t seen so she’d have a chance to figure out what she should do or say
to make things better. A thousand words and images raced through her mind,
but she was unable to come up with anything that would help her atone for
what she had done.

‘Oh boy...this is either going to be awkward...or really, really awkward.’
Buffy thought, preparing herself mentally, before she winced open her eyes
meeting the green ones who were staring intently back at her.

She gulped, nervously, feeling her heartbeat starting to hammer inside of
her chest at a very rapid rate. On one hand, she had never seen Willow look
more beautiful, her skin was giving off a definite glow in the early morning
light. On the other hand, she felt immensely guilty for taking advantage of
her friend the night before and didn’t know if she had ruined their
friendship irreparably...two very good reasons to feel like she was doing
the five hundred meter dash in the summer olympics. She opened her mouth to
speak, but all she managed to produce was a very thin squeek.

Willow saw the Slayer’s face flush with embarrassment, and thought that the
Mickey Mouse immitation was really rather cute, she probably would have even
enjoyed teasing her friend about it if the situation hadn’t been so
potentially harmful for both of them. “Hi.” The word seemed
remarkably inane after she had said it. It was certainly much too benign a
word to encompass all that had happened between them, and Willow frowned at
the inadequacy of it. But at least she had been able to utter more than a
squeek.

Buffy saw the frown that darkened her friend’s brow and felt her fears grow
exponentially, as she wondered if she had just killed her friendship.
“Will, I...I am so...so sorry. I never should have...I mean...I...did I
hurt you?” It was the one thing she feared the most...she knew how strong
she was, and what an effort it took to control that strength, and if she had
hurt her friend in an
inebriated state she didn’t think she’d ever be able to forgive herself.

Willow saw the concern and self-directed anger that grew on the Slayer’s
face and rushed to reassure her. “Buffy...no. You didn’t hurt me. You
would never do that.” The strenth of the conviction in the red head’s voice
soothed the frazzled nerves a little and she felt the too tense
form relax against her again. They lay in quiet contemplation for a moment,
each wondering what the other was thinking. Finally, Willow broke the
silence again. “Did you mean it?”

The question took Buffy by surprise and she was left pondering what exactly
she had said. “What? When?”

“Last night...when you told me you loved me. Did you mean it?”

Buffy lifted her head to meet the somber green eyes, taking a deep breath
before she answered her. “I meant it. I’d have to be a fool not to love
you.” She answered finally, seeing a wash of joy and sadness mix on
Willow’s face.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Willow asked, wanting to be angry at her
friend for telling her now...making her choose between two people she cared
about very much.

A hollow sounding laugh exited the Slayer’s lips as she shook her head
ruefully. “There just never seemed to be a good time to tell you, Will.
And then you told me about Tara and I knew my chance was gone. I hadn’t
intended on telling you...but I guess it’s out of the bag now.” She noted
wryly, looking down at her own naked state.

“What am I going to tell Tara?” The voice was so quiet, Buffy barely heard
it, and when she looked up she was surprised to see Willow’s eyes shining
with tears. She felt like she’d been kicked by a mule as the guilt settled
heavily in her chest, along with the pain she felt radiating from the center
of Willow’s being.

“She doesn’t have to know.” Buffy murmured, almost not able to get the
words out as she prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. “We can just keep
this between us...pretend it never happened.” It felt like a razor blade
across her heart to just say the words, and she wasn’t sure
what she would do if Willow took her up on the offer, when the truth was all
she wanted to do was take her in her arms and never let her go. But if
Willow wanted to stay with Tara, Buffy would do her best not to spoil her
happiness any more than she had already.

Willow could see the stoicism Buffy used to hide behind rising up across her
face, but she could still see the penetrating pain that offer cost her,
lingering in the shadows of her eyes. “I can’t do that, Buffy.” She shook
her head in denial of the Slayer’s offer.

“How come?” Buffy asked, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

“Because....I love you, too.”


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