FF: Chemistry of Love 2: the Other Element

["Aeryn Sun" <WilloSpice@xxxxxxx>]

Hiya!

You guys were so nice to me, thank you. Here's Willow's POV, as 
promised.  

Aeryn


Title: Chemistry of Love 2: the Other Element
Author: Aeryn Sun Formerly Wyvrn7
Feedback: Sure, be nice though. Flames are for bbq-ing, not 
criticism. If you can't say something nice, choke and die. <j/k>
Archiving: You want this piece of crap? Well, ask first, I'll say 
yes, I just want to know where it goes. I like to visit and bring 
candy. Chocolatey goodness.
Rating: PG, I guess. Nothing bad, just mild angst.
Spoilers: Everything up to and including The Gift. I have no idea 
how they're going to resolve that episode, but I look forward to it.  
If any of this story contains spoilers for Season 6, which I doubt it 
does, I apologize.
Summary: Willow's POV during Chemistry of Love. Ding ding, round two.
Author's notes: OK, since you guys were SO nice to me regarding 
Chemistry of Love and I did say I might write another one, here it 
is. It's not quite the same as my first story and probably not as 
good but I hope you like it. All of the dialogue is the same and 
some of the thoughts are too. No, I wasn't being lazy I was trying 
to illustrate how they really do feel the same way about each other.  
Oh, Hell, just go read it. <g> My muse is apparently hopped up on 
cherry Mountain Dew, in case anyone was wondering. And please excuse 
my spelling, I don't have spell check.
Warning/Disclaimer: If the idea of a relationship between two women 
that goes deeper than friendship is offensive or bothers you, man, 
are you lost! The Prude Power mailing list is over there:::points to 
the far right:::: Leave now or forever be sucked into the Alt 
universe. I wasn't fast enough and look at me now (not that I'm 
complaining ;)) Characters do not belong to me, they belong to Joss 
and Mutant Enemy. Goddess bless them. And ListMom and Dad too.



Sometimes I wonder what it was that I did to deserve the wonderous 
life that I have now. It certainly isn't anything like what I 
imagined when I was younger. I had resigned myself at an early age 
to forever be an outcast. It's not that I wanted it that way, it was 
just how things were. From the day I started kindergarten I was 
always on the outside looking in. The unpopular, uninteresting, 
invisible girl, yeah, that was me. Even my best friend who was an 
outcast alongside me never saw me. I mean really saw me. But you 
know, that was OK because I had my books and then computers and they 
would never call me names like loser and bookworm. In the books I 
read I could imagine myself as the fair maiden and know that the 
Prince would fall for me by the end, even if the prince in my real 
life was remarkably oblivious.

Contrary to what you might think, being the school pariah isn't all 
that bad. True I was harrassed endlessly about everything from my 
clothes to my hair to my religion and choice of friends but, I was 
also left alone to do my own thing most of the time. Because I knew 
that I would never meet the standards of people like Cordelia I never 
felt the need to conform. I didn't have to have the best shoes, best 
clothes or that sort of thing. I didn't have to look a certain way 
or behave the way they wanted me to. In an odd way, I was free. On 
some level I may have been envious of what they did have, but they 
weren't free. They had to conform, so I felt sorry for them. Maybe 
it's not the best way to look at it, the whole experience was hurtful 
at times but that's the way I feel about it. Being bitter or angry 
about it won't change anything and I understood that very early too.  
So I just continued on my merry way, content to live in high school 
hell knowing that it couldn't last forever. At least I hoped it 
wouldn't.

Of course, things have a way of changing when you're paying the least 
amount of attention. I was at school minding my own business, which 
I did a lot of since it helped me disappear from the popular kids' 
radar, when she walked in. The new girl that Cordelia was showing 
around. I had all ready figured that she'd be another one of Cordy's 
clique, ready to make fun of me for the way I looked, acted, or 
breathed. But then she surprised me and asked me, me, invisible 
wallflower girl, for help with her schoolwork. I looked at her and I 
didn't see the same cruel light I saw in the eyes of the popular 
kids; I saw warmth, compassion, and most surprising, kindness. I 
wasn't used to seeing that in the people around me. No, not everyone 
around me was an unbearable ogre (at least not yet). I got along 
really well with my teachers and Xander but no one else my own age 
was really nice to me. Here was the new girl who was obviously 
pretty and nice who didn't know me but had just given up any 
possibility of ever being popular simply by speaking to me. She 
didn't have to do that, but she did. Why? I don't know. I guess 
because she's Buffy.

Then I discovered who Buffy really was, and I don't mean that she's 
the Slayer, the Chosen One destined to repeatedly save the world.  
That's inconsequential, a given, like the sky looks blue because of 
the refraction of the light or pi is infinite. No, I mean I got to 
know who Buffy is as a real flesh and blood person, not as a 
personage written about in a dusty book of Giles' or as a reluctant 
superhero. I have been privy to the many different aspects that make 
up my best friend. The shattered mirror that is so uniquely her.  
She is so incredibly loving but she can be cruel if you hurt those 
she cares for. She's strong and yet has this weakness within her 
that makes me want to hold her and protect her from all the horror in 
our lives. She is amazingly brave but I know the fear that lurks 
beneath the sarcasm and wit. She is very wary of letting anyone see 
the person beneath the persona, but I have seen it. She makes it all 
come together in a way that makes her the most beautiful and 
wonderous being on this planet. But it is true, what they say. You 
never really understand or realize exactly what you have until it's 
taken away. I didn't, not really, until it was almost too late.

I have always been drawn to Buffy. I'd like to say it's like a moth 
to a flame but since that usually ends in pain for the moth and Buffy 
would never cause me pain, intentionally, I'd rather say that she is 
like this magnetic force that constantly draws me closer and I'm 
powerless to resist. When Xander and I discovered her destiny and 
all that stuff, we stayed with her when she expected us to run away.  
I did it for a couple of reasons; some I didn't understand then and 
still don't now. What I do know is that I couldn't walk away from 
her then and I know I never will. I wanted to stand beside her 
against all the evil and nasty things that would eventually come our 
way because it was the right thing to do, and because I felt I could 
make a difference. It really is a good fight. She always made me 
feel important even if the only thing I had to offer was my Research 
Girl routine, and then eventually my Wicca skills. I may not have 
been the big bad Slayer but Buffy included me in the things that were 
important. And I loved her for the way she made me feel: safe, 
included, and loved in return. 

My feelings for Buffy didn't change overnight. I didn't wake up one 
day and go `Yeah, I'm bi and gee, I think I'm in love with my best 
friend' (and I don't mean the `I-love-you-like-a-sister' type of 
thing). The love that I'm talking about comes from so far within you 
aren't aware that it exists until it grows and expands then takes 
your breath away in a single soul-searing instant. I knew I loved 
Buffy and I knew I was in love with her for a long time. It grew over 
time until eventually I just couldn't ignore it anymore. Granted I 
was never going to tell her about it. I was too afraid that after 
facing all the terrible things she'd seen that the thing that would 
repulse her the most, would be me. That would have killed me, no 
doubt about it. I can deal with almost everything: vampires, 
werewolves, demons, warlocks, robots, psychos, you name it. But the 
thought of Buffy's rejection and having her hate me would be too 
much. I need her in my life and if that meant having her only as my 
best friend and never anything more, I was happy with that.  

You know, it bothered me a little when I realized that my feelings 
towards Buffy were somewhat outside what society deems normal. Not 
that I cared what society thought, I already told you that I was 
never `normal'. But this meant I was more than just a `popularity 
challenged' individual. Falling in love with another woman meant I 
was gay, or at least bi. Let's not forget about Oz, I really did 
love him and I have been attracted to or crushed on other guys as 
well. And then we all met that wonderful (and I say that with a 
sense of sarcasm that Buffy would be proud of) alternate version of 
myself, Vampire Willow. I was telling the truth when I said to Buffy 
that Vamp Me was skanky. And the whole `And I think she's kinda 
gay,' comment I made, well, dur! I mean, she couldn't have been more 
obvious if she was wearing a huge neon sign that said "Vampire Pride" 
across it complete with a rainbow. The fact that she obviously liked 
to play in the `other' sandbox scared me. I was very happy in my own 
sandbox, thank you very much. But she did make me wonder. And I 
heard what Angel was going to say about a vampire's personality 
having some basis in their original one even before Buffy cut him 
off. (Don't think I didn't notice that, either. Naive? Yes.  
Oblivious? Not always.) So as my feelings for Buffy grew I 
remembered Vampy me and came to the conclusion that it had nothing to 
do with society. I could care less, really. Vamp me was still me, 
just taken to another extreme. Denying what was obviously true about 
myself would only serve to give me stomach pains and tension 
headaches, both of which I really don't need.

And now, as I park my car in the driveway, I say thank you to my 
other self and hope, well, honestly I hope someone staked her before 
she killed too many people in her own universe. I really don't need 
the phantom blood on my hands. Or to have her pop up again in this 
universe to wish me a Happy Birthday. But I shake the babbling 
thoughts from my mind, wondering, of course how I can possibly babble 
in my own brain but apparently I can. I get out of the car and as I 
sort through my keys, it hits me again: these are the keys to the 
house that I live in. Not my parents house, but hers. Buffy's house 
where I now live with her and her sister. I've always had a set just 
in case anything happened, that sort of thing. I only had to use 
them a few times, usually when Buffy lost hers. Now I use them 
everyday when I return to the most important person in my life. She 
is my soulmate, my center and my heart.

"Hey," I say as I flop down in the armchair in front of Buffy. She's 
sitting on the couch and the sun is streaming through the window 
behind her lighting her hair like some sort of halo. I wonder if 
she's aware of how innocent and angelic she looks sitting there like 
that. I know she was thinking about something important when I came 
in, it's written on her beautiful face. She's spent a lot of time 
thinking lately, which is a little unusual for her. Not that she 
doesn't think, because she does, quite frequently actually. OK, 
Will, you're babbling again. It's just; lately she seems bothered by 
something. But then, I can't blame her. She did die again. That's 
bound to disturb even the most resilient of persons.

"Hey," she answers back simply. From the way she's looking at me I 
can tell she wants to say more but Buffy's never been good at 
expressing herself with words. Besides, her eyes tell me everything 
I'll ever need to know. Her eyes have this look to them that words 
could never do justice to. When she looks at me like the way she is 
right now, those grey pools look almost ethereal, glowing with a love 
so deep it hurts to look at them. I can see everything she feels, 
everything she wants to say. I see straight down to her soul and it's 
beautiful. I smile at her, hoping to let her know all of that.

"How was your day?" I ask quietly, not really trusting my voice and 
knowing that she's having more than her far share of bad days 
readjusting. Being brought back from the dead tends to make you feel 
a bit awkward, I imagine. If I could make all the pain and 
uncertainty disappear, I would. I'd give anything, down to my soul 
if it would give Buffy a moments peace. Frightening thing is, I 
almost did do just that to get her back. But it was worth it to be 
able to see her, touch her and be with her again. I try to help her 
through it, holding her when she has nightmares so horrific that her 
screams chill me to the center of my being. I try to reassure her 
the best that I can and I can only pray to the Goddess that it's 
enough. And again, I can't help but wonder what I ever did to 
deserve her love.

"Same old, same old. Just sitting around being a homebody for a 
change. It's kind of nice." She tells me. Inactivity and Buffy are 
not a pretty mixture. But she's dealing pretty well. Won't be too 
much longer until she's back to her old Slayer self. While I'm glad 
she's recovering, a part of me is scared about her returning to 
her `duties'. I don't know if I could survive anything happening to 
her again. I smile again, can't help it, she does that to me. I get 
all giddy and light headed knowing that she's mine and that she loves 
me.  

"How about yours?" she asks, genuinely interested. I sigh because my 
day was tough. I don't want to bother her with it but looking into 
those expressive eyes again I know that Buffy won't rest until I tell 
her. Besides, she knows where I went today and what I did; she's 
just letting me tell her in my own way. And if I truly didn't want 
to talk about it, she wouldn't make me. That's one of the things I 
love about her, her willingness to let me be me, with all my faults 
and all my fears and never makes me feel silly or stupid about them.

"I helped Tara pack the last of her stuff up. I'm glad that we 
parted as friends, but I can't help but feel guilty about hurting 
her." I tell Buffy quietly. I feel so bad about hurting Tara. If it 
weren't for her, I wouldn't be sitting here now with the person who I 
love more than my own life. Yes, I had dealt with my bisexuality on 
my own terms, theoretically but Tara helped me see that my feelings, 
while not in sync with society's norms, were right and true and that 
I had nothing to be ashamed about. And she helped me get Buffy 
back. She told me that she knew getting Buffy back would make me 
happy and that was all she ever wanted. I took Buffy's dying really 
bad and probably would have followed her to the grave if it hadn't 
been for Tara. No, I wouldn't have killed myself but I believe now, 
more than ever, that you can die from a broken heart. I almost did.  
I hated that I'd never had the chance to tell Buffy the truth about 
my feelings and I cursed myself for being a coward. Tara, Goddess 
bless her, understood and wasn't angry when I told her the truth that 
I was in love with Buffy and not her. My love for Buffy is like 
nothing I have ever felt, heard about or read about. And while I 
care deeply for Tara, she admitted to me that she knew I would never 
love her completely because my heart and soul belonged to Buffy. And 
she was absolutely right.

Remember that a single soul-searing instant I mentioned earlier?  
Well, it didn't happen in the heat of battle against whatever 
abomination the HellMouth decided to throw at us. No, it happened 
during one of those quiet little moments that we seem to experience 
far too infrequently. We were in the middle of a lull, and we were 
all loving it. No demon activity, no vamps and school was relatively 
slow. Buffy and I were sitting in the dorm room watching videos, 
talking about nothing and everything, and eating ice cream. I was 
also spending the quiet time indulging in my favorite hobby, Buffy-
watching. I think it's a past time that will one day rival baseball 
and stamp collecting in popularity. And I'll be president of the 
Buffy Summers Admiration Society. I wonder what the job perks will 
be?

Anyway, we were halfway through the second pint of double chocolate-
chocolate chip ice cream when she turned to me and gave me one of 
those looks where she's looking at you but she's also looking 
straight into your soul. It's the look where you know that a bomb 
could go off in the next room but she won't notice because she's 
focused on you. I squirmed a little under the scrutiny because I 
thought I'd been caught staring. And then she surprised me, as she's 
often prone to doing.

> > > > >

"Will, can I ask you something? It's kind of of a personal matter 
type thingie." Well, that's a stupid question. Why would she need 
my permission to ask me a personal question? She knew almost 
everything about me, except maybe the whole `I-love-you-so-much-it-
hurts' thing I had going on. Of course, if I hadn't been surprised 
so much by the request, I would have noticed she was nervous, which 
is unusual in of itself.

"Sure, Buffy. You know you can ask me anything. We're best 
friends. You can ask anything and I'm obligated to answer you 
honestly. Kind of goes with the job." She smirks at me.

"It does, does it?"

"Yup, says so on my union membership card, wanna see?" She shakes 
her head and then gets serious again. Uh-oh, Serious Buffy. Now I 
know I'm in for something. `Serious Buffy' rivals only my `Resolve 
Face' in getting things their own way.

"Do you believe in fate?" Huh? This from someone who spends half her 
time chasing destiny's and prophecy's? She waves her hand in the air 
as if in response to my thoughts. Spooky. "And I don't mean `the 
Slayer must die if the Umpa-Lumpa get loose' or some crap. I mean," 
and she paused like she was trying to collect her thoughts from 
inside that brilliant mind of hers. Oh, yeah, sure she tries to say 
she's not smart and all that but you go to high school with someone 
and then room with them in college. When you see someone write a ten-
page report on Mayan civilization the morning said paper is due after 
patroling for demons and nasties and still get a B- on it, you tell 
me that person isn't smart. No? I didn't think so. "Will, I mean&" 
Another pause. By now I was wishing she had a `Play' button I could 
press because the pauses were starting to bother me and I really 
wanted to know what it was she wanted to say that was so hard for 
her. It's not like Buffy to be so unsure. She took a deep breath 
and tried again.

"Will, you're into all that Wicca stuff and how there's a balance to 
life, right?" I nodded.

"Yup, that's me. Willow the Wicca. Sure, there's balance to 
everything, Buff. Some people call it ying and yang or good and 
evil, but everyone has a name for it. Why?" This was going to be 
good, I could feel it. I was going to see something new in Buffy.  
Whatever it was that got her this flustered had to be pretty big and 
I hoped that I'd be able to help her with it. That was my ultimate 
goal in life, you know, to always be there to help her. And I really 
don't care if that sounds cheesy, either.

"Right. What I want to know&I've been thinking a lot lately about&
well not a lot lately but you know, generally a little more than 
usual that&" I put my hand on her shoulder and tried not to giggle.

"Hey, Buffy, you're babbling. I'm the chronic babbler here, don't 
try to take my job," I say with a wide smile, trying to soothe 
her. "Take a deep breath and just ask me or say whatever it is you 
want to. You know I'll listen." She sighed in relief and returned 
my smile.

"Thanks, Wills. OK, if there's a balance to everything then, 
according to some beliefs, we're not balanced as individuals, 
right?" I raised my eyebrow in slight confusion. I had a hunch what 
she was asking but she was being a little too vague for even me to 
follow closely.

"If you mean mentally unbalanced then speak for yourself, Slayer," I 
kid. She shakes her head but still I can see her smiling.

"That's the truth. Anyway, I mean, some people believe that we're 
only half a soul, right? And that we travel through many lives being 
reincarnated until we find that other half?" Again I nod.

"Is that your question?" I prompt, knowing that it's not. Now I 
REALLY want to hear this. Buffy's not usually into this sort of 
thing.

"What happens when you think you've found the other half? What do 
you do then?" she asks, her voice small and childlike. I felt my 
stomach plummet to my feet with the realization that she'd found 
someone she felt was her other half and wanted my advice on what to 
do. I was almost sure I was about to hurl half a pint of ice cream 
onto the carpet with the shock and pain of it. I could feel the 
tears burning behind my eyes knowing that it wasn't me. Beautiful, 
sweet, (and did I mention straight?) Buffy had found someone who she 
felt was her soulmate. I knew she was mine but I also knew it was 
foolish to think she'd feel the same way. So I swallowed my hurt, 
disappointment, and pain and looked at her in what I hoped was a 
bright and cheery expression.

"Wow, you think you've found yours, Buffy? That's really special.  
If that theory's true, and it's one I tend to believe in, then what 
you've got is what everyone searches for throughout eternity." I was 
so jealous that I think that if my eyes weren't already green they 
would have changed. And I didn't even know whom it was I was jealous 
of. She hadn't been seeing anyone that I knew of. Oh, well, maybe 
she was just keeping it from me for now. And that hurt too.

"But what do I do about it?" She looked at me with eyes that were so 
open, so vulnerable that it shook me to the core. She was scared for 
whatever reason and all I cared about was making that fear 
disappear. That's when the feeling I was talking about hit me. All 
the air flew from my lungs and left me nearly gasping. I realized 
that I loved Buffy more than anything, even my own happiness, my own 
life and I vowed to do anything and everything to make sure she was 
happy, no matter the personal price. I hugged her and she relaxed 
into me.

"Well, if you're sure," oh please don't be, "then you tell them that 
you think they're really special to you. Don't worry, Buffy, if it 
really is your soulmate," no, no, no, no, no, "then they'll know and 
understand." Goddess, will someone shut me up, please? 

"But what if that person isn't what you'd expect?" What the heck did 
she mean by that?

"What do you mean by that?" Repetative much, Willow? She pulled away 
and sighed.

"What if that person is not who everyone expects them to be, isn't 
what they'd expect? What if you weren't expecting it either?" She 
looked so small, so lost. I honestly didn't understand what could be 
so bad. Unless, of course, he turned out to be a big, slimey demon.  
With chronic bad breath and a lazy eye, (or three).

"If you're worried about how your friends," and I stressed the word 
to let her know I meant me, "will react; if they truly care about 
you, like I do, then they'll accept it and move on." And I really and 
truly would, even if it killed me. "If they don't, then you don't 
need them. Same goes for your family, except maybe the `not needing 
them' part. But I think after handling the whole `Hi, Mom, I'm the 
Slayer' shock a few years ago, and Angel, I think your Mom is game 
for anything."

"What if&what if they don't feel the same way?" If possible, she got 
even smaller, folding up into herself. Goddess, she was really upset 
by this whole thing. I hated to see her that way so I had to bring 
her out of it.

"Buffy, look at me." She turned and I stared deep into those eyes 
that I realize I obsess about and saw Buffy as she truly was. I saw 
right past the persona, the image and the tears filling her eyes, 
right down to her very soul. "Whoever they are, Buffy, they will. I 
promise you." I said evenly, meaning every word of it. How could 
someone not love her? She's Buffy. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"Really?"

"I'll be honest with you. If I was this guy," and even though I'm 
obviously not, "and you came to me and told me you felt this way, I 
wouldn't be able to help but feel the same. There is only one 
soulmate for you, Buffy. If whomever you're talking about is really 
yours, you'll be the only one for him." Every word was slowly 
cutting out a piece of my own soul but I didn't care as I watched the 
light and happiness return to her eyes. She flew across the bed 
suddenly and enveloped me in a hug so tight I thought she'd break 
something.

"Thank you, Willow, thank you so much. You have no idea what it 
means to hear you say that to me." she gushed. I didn't then but I do 
now. We both settled back down to finish the movie and ice cream.  
I've replayed the conversation over and over since then and knowing 
that that was her way of letting me know at the time still makes me 
cry. I never asked her who it was she was talking about because I 
didn't want to know. If I had known, I would have done exactly like 
I said I would and we both would have had this happiness we have now 
a lot sooner. Oh, well.

> > > > > > >

"I know, Will. She's a good friend and we both owe her a lot," she 
tells me while placing her hand on my knee and shaking me from my 
wandering thoughts. Athough from the look on her face I can tell 
she's just getting back from her own mental vacation. She always 
knows exactly what to say to make me feel better. Again, all I can 
do is smile in the face of this wonderful woman who loves me.  
Sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode from the feelings she 
invokes within me. Not a pretty visual, but still. I place my hand 
over hers and am amazed at the warmth in it. A telltale reminder 
that she's alive. I get such a sense of relief out of the little 
reminders that she's real and here with me. I love her completely, 
it's that simple.

"I thanked her again. For letting go. She says she's happy that we 
finally figured things out. Apparently, Tara knew you had feelings 
for me and suspected that I might feel the same way. She's just 
sorry that it took such a horrible thing to bring us together."  
Thank you, Tara, and good luck.

"Yeah, nothing like dying an excruciatingly painful death to make you 
see things in your life with a crystal clarity," she tries to joke.  
As usual, Buffy feels the need to hide her pain and discomfort behind 
sarcasm and wit. Sometimes I hate it. I can't help the wave of 
horror and pain that flashes across my face. I relive that horrible 
moment again when I saw her leap into the portal and sacrifice 
herself to close it. And the way her body just lay there afterwards, 
unmoving. She looked so peaceful there, perfectly untouched. My eyes 
brim with unshead tears and she's immediately on her knees in front 
of me, trying to chase that pain away.

"Oh God, Will, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I shouldn't 
have said that. I'm so stupid," She wraps her arms around my waist 
to comfort me. "Please, baby, don't cry. Please." She begs almost 
in tears herself. She knows that her dying is still a subject I 
don't deal with well. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hug as 
tightly as I can, partily to return the comfort she's offering me and 
to reassure myself once again that she's really and truly alive. I 
can feel her heart beating and it is the most comforting sound in my 
universe. I fall asleep listening to it every night.

"You're not stupid, Buffy," I kiss the top of her head then tilt her 
face up so that I can look into her grey eyes. I see the concern and 
worry behind them, she's afraid that she's hurt me but she never 
could. It's not her words as much as the memories they 
invoked. "OK, maybe you sometimes speak before you engage your 
brain, but you're not stupid." I joke with her to lighten the mood 
and ease her disquiet. And I watch as light and joy return to her 
eyes. I wonder sometimes if she knows how readable her eyes have 
become to me. I know everything she thinks before she says it; I know 
how she feels when she tries to hide it. It's not that I can read 
her mnd, because that would be an 11 on the scary meter, but because 
I know her. I know her better than I think I know myself. And it's 
all in her eyes. I wouldn't care what happened around me, whatever 
catastrophe was occuring wouldn't matter as long as I could drown in 
those eyes. Time seems to stop when she looks at me and we are the 
only people on Earth at that moment. You know what? I am lost.  
Hopelessly, utterly lost in the wonderfulness and love that is 
Buffy. I realize as I'm looking at her that she's staring at me 
rather intently. Not that that is a bad thing, though. She's 
apparently focused all her single minded Slayer focus on me and it's 
a bit daunting. She usually reserves that attention for whatever 
case of world annihilation we're dealing with at the time. It's 
strange to know that she now directs it at me, and it makes me blush 
deeply. But I love it and her all the same. We face an awful lot of 
bad thingies and ugly truths and I don't think it's awfully fair the 
pressure everyone, myself included, puts on Buffy. The weight of the 
world rests on those slender shoulders and yet she carries it with 
misleading ease. I know she will always do her best to keep me and 
the world safe. And I know that one-day, unfortunately it won't be 
enough but as long as I'm with her I feel safe. Whatever happens 
from this moment forth, happens. I'll be able to deal with it 
because I have her love. She is my home, my north, my center and my 
core

"What's the matter, Will? You're turning an alarming shade of red, 
almost matching your hair." Yeah, I can just imagine I am. Nasty 
habit that, turning red at something as simple as her staring at me.  
But I feel so incredibly lucky that out of all the people she could 
have had, Buffy has chosen to love me. Buffy `The-Vampire-Slayer, 
strong, rule breaking, doesn't-play-well-with-others, normality-be-
damned-because-I-say-so' Summers loves me, little Willow `invisible-
girl, stays-in-line, knows-her-place, colors-within-the-lines 
(because outside just looks bad), no-one-will-ever-notice-or-care-for-
me' Rosenberg. OK, bad self-esteem much Will? (Am I channelling 
Cordy?)

"You're staring," I point out sweetly, just to let her know. I watch 
the blush creep up from her neck as she realizes I've caught her.  
Her newest hobby seems to be `Willow watching' and I have to tell 
you, in a strictly objective way of course, that being watched feels 
pretty damn good.

"Oops, sorry," she whispers softly. She fixes me with that look 
again. Have I mentioned that it makes my heart beat faster and turns 
my knees to Jell-o? It's probably a good thing that I'm sitting down 
since I would have landed ungracefully on my butt by now. She's 
looking at me like she wants to say more. She opens and closes her 
mouth a few times in a pretty darn cute imitation of a fish.

"Will, I," oh good she's doing the stuttering thing again. She's so 
cute when she's flustered. She tries again. "I want to say so much&
I need for you to know, to understand how&" she gives up and waves 
her hands about in frustration. I wonder why it is that even now 
emotions and the words to go with them are so hard for her. But I 
understand and smile to calm her. I don't want her to get upset 
because she thinks I don't know how she feels. I understand more 
than she could ever imagine. She giggles a little at a private 
thought and takes another breath to give it another go.

"I love you, Willow." Well I would hope so. That kind of goes 
without saying by now, doesn't it? Still, my heart is doing all 
these flippity floppity things in my chest when she says it. She 
says it pretty often but it never fails to make me feel like someone 
has suddenly plugged my entire body into a huge power source and 
turned it to maximum. Hmm, interesting and disturbing imagery.

"I know you do, Buffy. I love you too." Please don't ever doubt 
that. I would give my life for yours, gladly and without hesitation, 
without regret. Her entire face lights up at my words and it's again 
with the mushiness feelings for me. She can reduce me to a quivering 
jell-o-ey mass of Willow with just a look. I've either got it for 
her really bad or I'm getting a cold. Darn, I'm babbling to myself 
again. She looks at me with a different expression, almost pleading 
with me. I hate that look because it means that something is 
important to her but she doesn't know what to do. It's very similar 
to the look from that night in the dorm.

"No, Will, you don't understand. I love you but it's so much more.  
I need to tell you, you have to know&" Oh, I get it. Geez, how thick 
am I? I pull her closer, into my lap, trying to find the words to 
tell her I understand. I lean in closer so that our foreheads are 
touching and I can feel her breath on my cheek. She wants me to 
understand what I already know: how she loves me. I know the depth 
of how she feels because it's mirrored in my own heart, my own soul.  
Without her I have nothing, I'm not whole. With her I'm complete and 
there isn't anything I can't accomplish.

"No, Buffy, you don't need to say anything." She opens her mouth to 
protest but I place my fingers over her mouth to stop her. "Shush, 
Buffy. You don't need to say anything because I know." I take a deep 
breath and pour everything I feel, everything in my heart and soul, 
my everything into these next few important words. If I'm never able 
to speak another word to her, I want her to know this without any 
doubt, no matter how small. Her breath is warm as it fans against my 
face. I look deep into her eyes and repeat myself. "I know, 
Buffy." And looking into her eyes, so filled with love, love for me, 
I know that she believes me. 

"God, Wills," she gasps, the emotions overwhelming her, us. I can't 
help but laugh at her obvious relief at not having to try to explain 
herself. And I laugh at the universe that was so against me as a 
child because I now have something that it can never take from me, 
Buffy's love. It will always be in my heart and nothing, no one, no 
demon or force or anything can change that. I kiss her, hoping to 
pour all of what I feel into the gesture. I watch the tears start to 
flow from her eyes and while I know they're happy tears, I can't bear 
to see them. So I wipe them away with my thumbs, heedless of the 
tears on my own cheeks. I need to tell her what's in my heart and 
since I'm better with words it'll have to be good enough for both of 
us.

"You need to understand, Buffy. You are my heart, my soul and 
without you I am only half of what I could be." I whisper, opening 
every part of my heart and soul for her to see and enter. "I love 
you more than I ever believed it possible to love anyone. You don't 
need to explain anything to me because I all ready know." She sinks 
against me in relief. And in her arms, I know I'm home, I'm safe and 
loved and that's all I need. I will never leave her, if I can help 
it. Even if I were to die tomorrow, I wouldn't go to the next life 
without her. I would stay by her side and do what I could to protect 
her, help her. I hold her in my arms and silently promise her that, 
and everything else she will ever want. With everything I am and 
everything I ever will be.  



> > > > > > There it is folks. Willow's POV. While I'm not sure it was as 
good as Chemistry of Love, I hope it was still a good story to read.  
Let me know. :::::goes to sit in the corner with her jungle juice 
and sippy cup:::::