FIC: Moon Dreams I (1/7)

["another_soul_lost" <anotherlostsoul@xxxxxxxxx>]

Title:  Moon Dreams I - Wolf Moon Rising (1/7)
Author's Name:  anotherlostsoul
Author's Email and URL:  anotherlostsoul@xxxxxxxxx,
http://www.hopelessdreams.com
Pairings:  Willow/Buffy/Xander 
Disclaimer:  Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and a lot of other people own
the show and all the characters.  The plot and the story are mine. 
This cannot be sold or used for profit in any way, shape or form. 
Please don't sue me, because I really don't have anything to take.
Rating:  NC17 (eventually)

Summary:  Early in season 1, Willow is having strange dreams& or are
they dreams at all?  Will what's happening to Willow change everything? 

Author's Notes:  This is set starting between "Never Kill a Boy on the
First Date" and "The Pack" in season 1.  I'm taking some liberties
with how much time passes between individual episodes, especially in
the first season.  Thanks as always to my wonderful beta-readers
KallieKat and Filip Janik.

This story is a radical departure in style for me, it's written
entirely from Willow's point of view in a mostly first-person voice. 
It's also the first 'book' in a three part series that starts in early
season one and spans all the way through "Prophecy Girl".  Also, be
warned, it won't start getting really shippy until Book 2.

* * * * *

I was not having a good night.  So far I'd been sitting and staring
blankly at my history book for well over an hour, and I had yet to get
past the first paragraph of the assigned reading.  Nights like this
don't happen to me very often, but occasionally even I, Willow
Rosenberg, straight A student and all-around homework gal don't feel
like studying.  Tonight seemed to be one of those nights in a big kind
of way.  

I was feeling restless, cooped up, and just plain antsy.  It was like
I had all this energy that had been building up for the last few days
and it just had nowhere to go.  A night like this would be perfect for
Bronzing with Buffy and Xander, but Buffy had been moping since the
whole Owen thing, and Xander was too busy fawning over Buffy to be
much fun if she wasn't around.  And Bronzing alone was about as
dreadful an idea as being stuck in a closet with Cordelia Chase.

I thought briefly about calling Amy, wondering if now that her mother
was no longer in possession of her body, she might feel like hanging
out at the Bronze with me.  But then Amy and I hadn't really been
close friends in years, since way before her mother went all psycho
about reliving her youth.  Well, at least, I think it was before
that&but then again I wasn't really sure how long she had been trapped
in her mother's body either.

I glanced briefly back down at the textbook that was still lying open
in front of me and sighed in disgust at my mounting frustration as I
attempted to begin reading once again.  Even on my worst days, it was
rarely this hard to focus long enough to finish a simple reading
assignment, but as luck would have it within a few moments, I found
myself staring out my window into the gathering dusk, and longing to
be somewhere else.

I practically snarled as I slammed the book shut, having finally lost
my temper at the uselessness of trying to study in my current frame of
mind.  I whirled around and shot to my feet, no longer holding any
conscious control over my actions as I flung the offending book across
the room.  Let it never be said that I don't have a redhead's temper,
even though I don't lose it that often.  I felt a smile creep across
my face as the book smacked solidly against the far wall and a feeling
of satisfaction settled in my gut briefly.  The smile quickly faded to
a frown, however, at my uncharacteristic outburst.  "What the heck is
wrong with me tonight?" I wondered aloud.

As I stood there, taking deep breaths and trying to reign in my still
raging temper, my eyes drifted once more to my window.  Maybe a little
fresh air would help calm me down.  At the very least, I figured it
couldn't make matters any worse.  I walked out onto my balcony,
thankful once again that I had such a wonderful luxury.  Ever since I
was a little girl, I'd loved standing out on my balcony and watching
the sunset.  As I'd grown up, I'd even taken to enjoying stargazing on
clear summer evenings, using the telescope my mother had given me for
my twelfth birthday.

I took a deep breath of the cool air.  It was still fairly early
spring in Sunnydale, so the evening air seemed to cool quickly and a
steady, gentle breeze rolled through the town, carrying the perfumes
of the early spring wildflowers and the not so distant Pacific Ocean.
The slight, chill bite felt surprisingly good against my face and I
closed my eyes and tilted my head toward the sky, enjoying the feel of
the not-quite wind blowing through my thick hair.  It was a soothing
feeling and I could feel that restless mass of nervous energy beneath
my skin begin to calm down and drain away.

Opening my eyes, I spotted the pale silver circle of the newly risen
full moon.  For the barest of instants I felt a surge of something
deep in, stirring within the depths of my soul at the sight of the
moon.  An almost exultant feeling of joy rushed through me carrying my
conscious mind along on a wave of euphoria that left a wide smile in
its wake.  It was a good feeling, powerful and primal, strong enough
to make my skin tingle.  The last of my restlessness stilled and a
peaceful sense of serenity rolled through me to replace it.  I closed
my eyes again, determined to savor that feeling of tranquility for as
long as I could.

I lost track of time as I stood there, even my overactive mind ground
to a halt in the stillness, leaving me with a feeling of perfect
peace.  I wasn't sure if mere minutes or whole hours passed as I lost
myself in that moment.  It's amazing just how quiet my neighborhood
gets in these early evening hours.  But then again, before Buffy came
along, I'd never really noticed everyone's tendency to hide themselves
safely indoors when the sun set.  It struck me as odd how the
residents could be so oblivious to the truth about the things that go
bump in the night, and still subconsciously know that the night just
wasn't safe.

Sometime later I heard my mother's soft, feminine voice behind me, as
she quietly called out, "Willow?"  

Without speaking, I opened my eyes and turned to face her.  Sheila
Rosenberg isn't what anyone could call typical.  Physically, I don't
look very much like my mother. While we're about the same height and
about the same build, that's pretty much where the similarities end. 
My mother's features have a softer, more rounded cast to them than my
own.  Her hair is also a much deeper, darker shade of red and she
keeps it cut just above her shoulders.  Her hair isn't as straight as
mine is either; she inherited a wavy curl from her own mother, whereas
I ended up with my paternal grandmother's ruler straight locks.  She
also doesn't really look old enough to be my mom.  In fact, whenever
we go out together, most people tend to assume we're sisters which
tickles her to no end.

I've always had a good relationship with my mother.  Whenever I've
needed someone to talk to, she's been there for me.  Until Buffy came
along, she was probably my absolute best female friend.  In fact,
until I met the Slayer and learned the truth about the things that
live in the dark, I didn't keep anything at all from her.  Needless to
say, things between us have been a bit weird since Jessie died and I
started helping Buffy.  I really hate having to keep secrets and lie
to her, but I just don't think that she'd be able to deal with the
reality of my life now.  Hell, there are moments when I can't deal
with that reality.

At any rate, I could see the concern written all over her face as she
spoke again, "I heard a loud noise, and you didn't answer when I
knocked.  Is everything okay?"  Her voice slid like silk through the
quiet air, brushing over me with warmth I could almost physically
feel.  I couldn't help but smile in response.

"I'm fine, mom," I offered in a subdued tone just loud enough to be
heard.  The idea of talking any louder in a moment like this just
seemed to edge on blasphemous.  "I just needed a little air& to help
clear my head."  I turned back to stare up at the moon once more,
feeling a sense of strength wrapping around me.  I wasn't the least
bit surprised when mom crossed the balcony to stand behind me, resting
her chin on my shoulder and wrapping me in her loving, maternal,
embrace.  

I melted back against her, enjoying the sense of her presence that
seemed to flow over me.  I could smell the fruity scent that always
seemed to cling to her, a mixture of blueberry and herbs, as well as
the sharp clean scent of the light perfume she always wore.  A feeling
of comfort and belonging, a feeling of being loved and protected
enveloped me.  In that moment, I felt like a little girl again, like
nothing had ever happened to cause me to push her away the way I had
recently.  

I felt that same deep stirring in my soul responding to my mother's
closeness.  It was as if that primal part of me felt the presence of a
kindred spirit in my mother, a sense of coming home almost.  I sighed
gently, before whispering quietly, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, pumpkin," came her whispered reply and I felt my
smile broaden as she gave me a motherly kiss on the cheek before
gently pulling away to go back inside.  As she stepped through the
door back into the house I heard her gentle admonishment, "Don't stay
out here too long, I don't want you to catch cold."

I stood there quietly, savoring the calm that had descended for a few
more moments as I listened to my mother's footsteps retreat across my
room and back into the hallway on the other side.  The sense of her
presence lingered about me as I finally stepped back into the safety
of my home and gently pushed the balcony door shut behind me.  

Instead of feeling stifling and claustrophobic the way it had earlier,
my room felt calm and cozy now.  I was feeling much more like myself
as I crossed to where my book had landed after its earlier flight
across the room.  I scooped the book up from the carpet and strolled
casually back to my desk.  With my restless frustration finally
relieved, I had no problems settling in and finally making some
progress on my homework.  Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad night
after all.

Now that I could focus properly on the task at hand, my remaining
homework seemed to fly by, practically doing itself.  It left me with
a real sense of accomplishment, considering how Herculean the simple
task of reading my history book had seemed earlier, and I was quite
happy as I put away the last of my books a few hours later.  I yawned
as I stood up and was surprised by how stiff my neck, back and
shoulders felt as I gently stretched and tried to loosen up.  A
passing glance at my alarm clock revealed that it was, in fact, much
later than I'd expected, seeing as it was just past 11 pm.

As I continued to stretch and relax, my eyes drifted back to my
balcony door.  The thought of another trip into the cool night before
I retired for the evening was deeply tempting, despite the lateness of
the hour.

I was startled from that train of thought by a soft knock at my
bedroom door and the sound of my mother's voice, "Willow, honey?"

The bottom vertebrae of my back finally popped and the last of the
tightness in my muscles fled along with it as I eased out of my
stretch and called out to mom, "Come in."

The door opened about a third of the way and my mom's smiling face
poked into my room as she spoke, "Hey, pumpkin, how's the homework
coming?"

"I just finished up," I fought to stifle a yawn as I realized just how
tired I really was and suddenly going on to bed seemed a much more
attractive prospect.

"Oh good, your father and I are going to bed.  The downstairs is all
locked up.  Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," I answered immediately.  "Goodnight, mom."

"Goodnight, Willow."

* * * * *

The night seemed to wrap itself around me like a cloak as I ran.  I
could feel the hard earth as my feet struck against it with every step
as I slipped between the dense trees like a shadow.  I seemed to
almost float across the rough terrain, never stumbling, never falling
even as I ran as hard and as fast as my feet could carry me.  The
ground felt warm against my feet, despite the sharp chill of the night
air as it slid over my skin, barely impeded by my thin cotton
nightgown.  I felt so powerful, so alive, loving the sensations that
flooded my mind.

I was dreaming.  I knew it without a doubt, despite the sense of
awareness that permeated my mind.  It certainly wasn't the first time
I'd had such lucid dreams.  I kept running, feeling the joy of
exertion, the flood of adrenaline pumping in my veins as I wove an
intricate path around the obstacles along the way.  The feeling of
rightness, of belonging was so powerful, so tangible that I found
myself hoping this dream would never end.  

Scant moments later, I burst through the edge of the forest into a
wide open clearing and came to an abrupt stop.  I marveled at the
sight before me, as the pale silver beams of the full moon riding high
above me ripped through the inky black of the nighttime forest,
setting everything alight with silvery flames.  I took a deep breath
and drank in the energy that seemed to dance across my skin.  A
powerful tingling, burning sensation spread across the bare skin of my
arms, legs and face where the moonlight touched them.  It felt like
thousands or even millions of tiny feet marching over my flesh.  I
felt my skin tighten and took a sharp breath as my nipples stiffened,
drawing up into taut peaks.

Suddenly, my nightshirt seemed to weigh far too much.  The soft
cottony feel of the thin, worn fabric felt like sandpaper grinding
against my now hypersensitive body.  Even the tiniest movements caused
hot pain to wash over the areas as the material roughly drug over my
skin.  With a gasp I grabbed at the gown, twisting my body and pulling
hard in an effort to get the offensive material away from my
increasingly abused-feeling flesh.  

Thankfully the material parted easily, tearing away from my body under
the force of my grasp, but even as I dropped the ruined garment to the
ground at my feet, the movement caused me further pain as the fabric
of my panties brushed roughly over my skin.  I found myself snarling
as I reached down and ripped them away, leaving myself standing nude
under the moon's watchful eyes.

A powerful feeling of almost primal exultation rolled through me as
the moonlight seemed to caress my body.  Warmth spread through me and
I couldn't help myself as my hands slid up over my exposed skin,
chasing after the phantom sensations.  The heat built rapidly into a
fire beneath my skin that seemed to wash across my body.  I gasped,
drawing a harsh, shuddering breath, pulling the chill air down a
throat that felt shockingly dry and rough.  My hands fell away from
skin as the sudden fire in my veins spread deeper.  

It felt suddenly as though a dozen different hands were stroking and
touching my body intimately.  Caressing, teasing, and bringing
pleasure wherever they drifted.  I felt my heart racing and my
breathing quickened.  I felt the muscles in my vagina quiver and
tighten, the way they always would before I brought myself to climax
and I cried out, a moan of pleasure that turned into a high-pitched,
keening whine that sounded almost inhuman as my orgasm washed over me.
The pleasure ripped through my body, driving me to my knees, and only
my hands slamming into the ground in front of me kept my body from
falling forward into the dew-covered grass.  

`Oh god,' I thought numbly as my muscles clenched tight a second time.
The feelings continued to flow over, me, growing stronger, harder,
more demanding, and as a second orgasm tore through me, I threw back
my head and howled in ecstasy before my dream washed away into the
white void of dreamlessness.

* * * * *

I woke slowly the next morning, which isn't really surprising given
the intensity of what I could remember of my dreams.  The first thing
that I remember becoming aware of was the cold tingle of the air
brushing gently over my body and raising gooseflesh in its wake.  I
could also feel the early rays of the morning sun trailing over me,
warming my chilled skin.  It was in that moment that I realized that I
was definitely not laying in my bed, a fact that was quickly confirmed
as several of my muscles spasmed painfully from having spent some
portion of my night curled up on a hard, unyielding surface.

`Okay,' I thought groggily, `I must've fallen out of bed or something
last night&'  The thought spun idly through my sleep-fogged brain for
a few moments as I prepared to open my eyes, but I knew that something
just didn't add up.  Something like the fact that whatever I was
laying on wasn't my carpet.  

Ready or not, my eyes snapped instantly open at that realization, only
to find myself staring out through the wooden posts that support the
railing around my balcony.  I had somehow ended up curled up asleep on
my balcony.  A second, equally disturbing, realization slammed home
hot on the heels of the first.  

I was completely naked.  

Adrenaline surged through me, shaking off the last of my weariness and
clearing my head completely of its sleep-induced confusion and I felt
warmth spread through my skin as I managed to blush bright red from
head to toe.  Moving as quickly as I could, I jerked myself
semi-upright and fumbled with the door to my bedroom.  I scrambled
through the door trying desperately not to risk the utter humiliation
of being seen by any of my neighbors.

As I half-crawled and half-fell into the relative safety of my still,
mostly dark room, the muscles in my arms, legs and back protested
painfully about the sudden movement, tightening so quickly that I let
out a yelp of discomfort.  Somehow, I managed to twist around and
shove the balcony door shut behind me as I gasped for breath.  

Moving much more slowly, I forced myself into a sitting position and
drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, hugging
myself tightly.  The slow, easy movements and the semi-curled position
served to quickly alleviate the screaming tension in my aching body. 
I could only pray that no one had noticed me.  "What the hell happened
last night?" I wondered aloud in a half-whisper.







"It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
"I kinda love you."
Buffy & Willow, 'Choices'

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