BuffyWantsWillow::FIC:Something New (6/?)

[Pedder <russianknife@xxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Author: Pedder

Title: Something New (6/?)

Disclaimer: The BtVS universe was created by Joss Whedon, I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I don't claim any of it, it's not mine, I think you get it.

Chapter Summary: Deals with the events after 'Hush'.

Feedback: Anything, please.

Archive: Go for your life. Just let me know, k?

Spoilers: None.

Check this out. I think I actually wrote a chapter in under two months (not positive on that though). Yay me, anyway. Hope you like.

****************

I think I'm about to have a stroke.



Seriously.



Or something.



It's been over an hour since Tara and I got out of the laundry room, and Buffy still hasn?t come back. I called Giles, but he said she hadn't been by his place either. I'm really starting to get worried.



Screw waiting. I've had enough. I'm going looking for her. What if she's hurt? She could be lying defenceless somewhere where all kinds of bad hellmouthy type things could happen to her. What if she's?



Sitting in the hall with her back against the door.



What?



Okay, so now she's lying on the floor, since I moved the door, but what the hell is the doing in the hall?



"Buffy?" I ask hesitantly. "Are you okay? What are you doing out here?"



I'm so pissed off that she made me worry when she was just outside the whole time, but I'm more concerned about her at the moment. I'll be mad later.



She looks up at me from where she's still lying on the floor. "Hey Will," she says. "How're you doing?"



Right. Now I'm just pissed.



I grab hold of her and pull her to her feet. She doesn't resist, but she doesn't help either, so it's a little more difficult than I had planned. I hiss a bit at the pain in my ankle, and Buffy immediately takes her weight off me.



"Will, what's wrong?"



"What's wrong?" I exclaim. What does she think is wrong! "What's wrong is that I've been in here for the past hour worried sick about you, and you've been sitting out in the hall the entire time. Why didn't you just come inside? Didn't you think I care enough to want to know you're okay after you've been out fighting some big nasty fairytale thing?"



Good going. I had to stick the fairytale bit in. Now I just sound like a moron.



Buffy blanches, and somehow manages an appropriate look of contrition. "Will, calm down, okay? I'm sorry. I just had some stuff to think about. I wasn't hurt, and everything's fine. I didn't mean to make you worry."



Calm down? She expects me to calm down? That's exactly the wrong thing to say to someone when they're mad at you. Apparently Buffy hasn't figured that out yet. She had stuff to think about? What kind of lame-ass excuse is? Oh, god. What stuff? What could she possibly have had to think about that she couldn't come in and tell me she was okay? What if it's about us? What if she's decided we moved too fast, and she only wanted to sleep with me because we lost our voices and she didn't know how to turn me down and everyone was very emotional and we weren't thinking straight and we can't have a relationship any more because she-



"Will?" Buffy's voice cuts off my thoughts. "Are you okay? What's up? You look like you're about to cry. I'm sorry, I really am, I just?"



I chose that moment to burst into tears.



Oh, well done. Very mature, Willow.



Buffy envelopes me in a hug. "Willow? What's wrong? Why are you crying? Shh, sweetheart. I'm here, everything's okay. I love you, I'm sorry I upset you. Please Will, tell me what's wrong."



I sniffle a bit as I try to control my tears. She called me sweetheart, so that's good, right? If she was going to break it off, she wouldn't be calling me that.



Right?



I'm still fighting tears, and I barely notice when Buffy guides us out of the doorway and into the room, closing the door behind us. She takes me over to the end of her bed and sits me down, pulling up the desk chair for herself so we're sitting face to face, our knees touching. She lets go of my hands to wipe the tears from my cheeks, a somewhat futile effort since they just keep falling anyway. She's got the perfect remedy for that though, when she leans over and kisses me.



Okay. I guess that's a good sign.



"Will?" she asks, her voice soft. "What made you cry? Was it me? Please sweetie, I never want to make you cry."



I sniff to clear my nose, and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Buffy," I say. "I didn't mean?"



Buffy kisses me again and I forget what I was about to say. When she pulls away, she puts a finger under my chin so she can look me in the eye. "Will, whatever it is, you've got nothing to apologise for. I'm sorry I didn't come straight in, that was selfish of me. I didn't even think."



I manage a smile. "I thought you were sitting outside to think?"



She rolls her eyes and grins wryly. "Well, I'm obviously not very good at it."



"So what were you thinking about?" I ask, still sniffling.



She stiffens at my questions, and my fears come back full force. I think she must see it in my face, because her expression softens and she moves the hand that's holding my chin to caress my cheek. "Nothing bad, I promise. Something just came up tonight that I'm not sure how to deal with."



"What?"



She stands up abruptly and starts pacing the room. "I'm not sure if I can tell you," she says finally.



Ouch.



No, really. That hurts.



"Why not?"



"I don't want to put you in danger."



"Since when?" I say snidely.



Okay, I'll admit that wasn't really fair, and I hate the hurt look that appears on her face. I know she hates it that I put myself in harm's way to help her, and I know that there's no way I'd ever let her convince me to stop. She does her best to protect me, and I know that. If she thinks it's better that I don't know this, then she probably has a good reason, but that doesn't stop it hurting.



"That's not fair, Will," she says softly.



"I know," I reply. "I didn't really mean it. It just hurts that you won't trust me."



She stops her pacing a looks at me. "You know I trust you. I'm just afraid."



Afraid. Oh, that's so not of the good.



"Of what?"



"Of what these people will do to you if they know that you know."



"Know what?" I am so confused.



"What I know and don't want to tell you."



"Which is?"



"I'm not telling."



Damn.



"Come on, Buffy," I say, and I'm not far off begging here. "How would 'they' know that you told me?"



"You'd act all weird."



I would not.



"I would not."



"Oh you know you would to," she counters. "You know you've never been able to keep a secret."



I can so. "I've never told anyone you're the Slayer."



She shrugs off my argument. "That's not a fair comparison."



"Why not?" I think it's perfectly valid.



"Me being the Slayer doesn't cause you to have to lie to people. It's not like people go around asking 'Hey, is Buffy the Slayer?'. If I told you, you'd have to act all normal to someone you know when you now know something about them that they'd do anything to hide," she looks at me, her expression serious. "Do you think you could do that?"



Of course I could. What could possibly be that bad about someone I know that they'd do anything to hide it? "Sure," I say.



She sighs, and leans against the desk behind her. "Riley's one of the commandos."



Oh.



That's? unexpected.



"You shouldn't have told me that," I say, regretting my insistence that she come clean.



"I told you so."



"Yeah, yeah. You were right. How'd you find out, anyway?" In for a penny, in for a pound and all that.



"I ran into him while I was hunting the Gentlemen," she answers. "I pulled a crossbow on him, he pulled some cheesy sci-fi blaster on me, we stared at each other for a minute, then some mental hospital rejects jumped us. We win, he gives me a weird look, and runs off."



"That's it?" I ask incredulously. I thought she'd give me more details than that.



"Pretty much," she shrugs. "I mean, there was a pretty mean battle somewhere in the middle there, but other than that there's not really much else."



"Right?" I say slowly, drawing out the word so it's clear as day that I'm unimpressed. "So how'd you get our voices back?"



I don't know what I'm expecting, but when Buffy snickers I'm fairly certain that wasn't it. "Oh, god, Will," she starts, laughing. "It was so funny. One of the guys in straightjackets has me pinned, right? And of course it's right when I can't do anything about it that I see this box that was in that dream I had a few days ago, you remember? The one with you in it?" I nod, and she continues. "Anyway, I spot this box, but I can't reach it, since it's sitting on a table with all these glass jars. So I make enough noise to try and get Riley's attention, and when he turns around I point at the box. Then," she takes a breath, "and this is the funny part, right. He takes a few strides and brings the end of his gun down on one of the empty glass jars, completely smashing it to bits. Then he gives me this look, this 'I did something good, do I get a pat on the head?' kind of look." I laugh, and Buffy rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that was what I thought. So anyway, I glare at him for a while before he gets it, and then he smashes the box. It must have been holding everyone's voices or something, because as soon as it broke I screamed, and all their heads exploded."



"Their heads exploded?" I ask blankly.



Buffy nods, and smiles again. "Actually, the expression on their faces right before it happened was kind of funny too," she catches the look I'm giving her and grins sheepishly. "Then again, I think maybe I'm getting a little too used to living on the Hellmouth."



"Possibly," I acknowledge. "Watching demon's heads explode shouldn't be funny."



"I guess not. Maybe I should see a professional about this."



Uh-huh. She's trying so hard to keep a straight face right now. I see practically see the muscles twitching. Still, if she wants to play?



"I think that might be a good idea," I say, perfectly serious. "Maybe Giles can recommend someone."



She cracks, and I hold back a smile. "Will! You can't be serious!" she exclaims.



"Well, it's not like you can see a regular therapist," I continue. "You'd have to find someone who already knows about demons and all the evil stuff."



She's silent for a moment before she smirks at me. "You're messing with me, aren?t you?"



Who? Me? Would I do that?



"Of course not," I say. I'm not admitting anything.



"Will?" she growls, and I shiver at the tingle that runs down my spine, and it's got nothing to do with fear.



"Buffy?" is all I manage to get out before she pushes off the desk behind her and leaps at me, pinning me underneath her to the bed. She leans down and kisses me, and any thought I had of defending myself disappear as she finally lowers her body onto mine.



She pulls away, and chuckles when I complain. She bites me softly on the ear and whispers "Maybe this time we won't be interrupted."



Unfortunately, the words are no sooner out of her mouth than the phone rings. We both groan, and she buries her face in my neck.



"You know this is all your fault," I say.



"Yeah, yeah," she grumbles, before climbing off me to reach the phone.



---------



It's weird how things just seem to go back to normal around here. Something bad happens, and a day later, everything's all good again and there's nothing to talk about. I guarantee, within a week, if I ask someone about what they felt about the whole town losing their voices, they'll say 'Huh?'. And with a bit of reminding, they'll go 'Oh, yeah. That was a pretty bad virus, don't you think?'



People are funny that way.



Me, though. I don't have the luxury of forgetting. No matter what happens, I have to deal with remembering it and all the emotional trauma that goes along with that. Not that the Gentlemen were the worst thing to happen to this town, but I'm not just talking about that. It's when it all starts to mount up that it gets to me. I can go for ages without even thinking about some memory or other, but then something comes up and I'm suddenly thrust back to when I thought Buffy was dead, or when I tried to turn myself into a vampire (although that's one of the more confusing stories).



There are just some days when I can't handle everything. It all just gets too much, and I have to get away from everyone that reminds me of what I'm running from. Which is why I snapped at Buffy this morning and ran out before she could say anything. Last night I was fine, everyone was safe and had their voices back, and I slept safe and warm in the comfort of Buffy's arms. So I don't know why today life decided to jump me.



I'll have to apologise to Buffy when I see her again. She's not on campus at the moment though because she had to go and see Giles, so I've got a brief respite. I just don't know what I'm going to say. She's the one that carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, so what right do I have to be freaking out on her. She needs my support, and what do I do? Run off on her when I can't handle something. Sure, I don't run as far as Buffy has on occasions? but that's not really the point.



All I can say is thank god we don't have psych today. There's no way I could handle facing Riley. I'm just not up to lying today. He'd probably take one look at me and know Buffy told me about him. I really shouldn't have pressed that issue. Next time Buffy tells me she shouldn't tell me something, I'm going to believe her.



Right now though, I've got a craving for coffee. I'm jittery enough already, I don't see how more caffeine is going to hurt. Plus, I don't want to go back to the dorm yet. I'm putting off that conversation for as long as possible. I know it's stupid, but I also know that Buffy's going to blame herself for putting me through everything in the last couple of years, and I really don't want her to do that.



She blames herself for enough as it is.



Everyone she couldn't save, all the vampires she's had to kill that were once people she didn't know were in danger, all the friends she's seen die - I don't know how she does it. I know I wouldn't have the strength to.



Grabbing my bag I head toward the student centre. They don't make great coffee, but I don't want to walk to the Expresso Pump. I'm almost there when I hear my name being called, and I can't help freezing up for a moment before I realise that it's not Buffy. I take a moment to gather my composure before I turn around and see Tara standing about five feet away.



Okay, so she said my name from right beside me. I'm really very aware of my surroundings today, can't you tell?



"W-Willow," she says, and I can't help but smile a little at her stutter. It's kind of cute. "Hi, I?" she stops and looks down at her feet, biting her lip. A broad grin forms on my face, and I can almost forget about my emotional overload for a while. This girl is just too adorable.



"Tara, hey," I say, trying to put her at ease. "I was hoping to talk to you sometime. Wanna come grab a drink with me?" She looks up and nods slightly, the corners of her mouth turning upwards in a small smile. "Come on then."



She follows me to the café, barely looking around to see where she's going, and not saying a word. After ordering our drinks we grab a table and sit down, and Tara still hasn't made eye contact with me again. This is amazing. I mean, I know I was shy in high school, but I don't think I was ever this bad.



"So," I say, not really sure how to begin, since I have no idea what I want to say anyway. "How are you?"



She looks a little surprise at the question, but finally looks at me. "F-fine," she stutters, swallowing hard. "H-how's your a-ankle?"



"Good as new," I reply. "It wasn't even a sprain or anything. Hurt for a little while last night, but it was fine this morning."



"Good," she says softly. "I? I d-didn't mean to hurt you."



"You didn't," I say, reassuring her. "It's fine. What were you doing outside, anyway? You should know Sunnydale's dangerous after dark."



She nods. "I d-do," she says. "I w-was looking for you."



"For me?"



Well. I didn't know that.



"I w-was thinking, you know, that m-maybe w-we could d-do a spell or s-something," she continues. "You know, to get everyone's voices back. I'd? I'd seen you in the Wicca group, and you're? d-different from them. They didn't seem to know-"



"What they were talking about?" I finish for her.



She gives me a shy smile and nods, ducking her head a little. "I um? I think if they saw a w-witch, they would, um? run the other way."



"Probably," I agree. "So how long have you been practising?"



"Always," she answers, after a slight hesitation. "My Mom was a witch, she uh? had a lot of p-power. Like you." She says the last part in a softer voice, lowering her eyes to the table.



I shrug. Me, a lot of power? Hardly. I mean, I want to learn, but I know I have limits. "I'm nothing special," I tell her, hoping to lead her away from a topic that's making me slightly uncomfortable. A lack of power isn't something I can overcome by studying. It's the only thing I haven't been able to get better at with hard work.



Tara doesn't seem ready to drop it just yet though. I doubt she's noticed my discomfort. "But you are," she argues.



Well. That's nice, anyway.



I smile at her, and this time it's my turn to have my chronic shyness take over. I look at the table while attempting to fight off the blush that I can feel on my face. I get myself under control and look up at her again. She reddens when I make eye contact, ad the corner of my mouth quirks up when I realise she must have been studying me while I wasn't looking.



"Can we?" I take a deep breath. "Can we practise together? I'm sure I could learn a lot from you."



She's quiet a moment before she answers. "You? You really want to? P-Practise with me?"



>From what I felt last night? Hell yeah.



"Of course," I say. "You've been doing this for so much longer than I have. I've been trying to teach myself, but that's harder than it sounds."



"Dangerous, too," Tara adds.



I shrug. "I guess. Plus, from what happened last night, that's a good sign we'd be good at working together, right?"



"It's v-very good," she answers. "The fact that we could do that at all? we shouldn't have been able to."



Huh?



"Why not?"



"Well? it kind of depended on you."



Again. Huh?



She sees my look and tries to explain. "You couldn't focus your power. Y-you know you should have been able to block the door by yourself."



"I should?"



"You have more than enough power. You just? didn't know what to do with it. You had a? b-barrier, that you didn't know h-how to o-overcome."



A barrier? Since when?



"So what happened then?" I ask.



"You took the answer from me," she answers. "I k-knew how to do it, and when we t-touched? s-somehow you j-just knew."



"So all the power came from me?"



She nods. "Most of it. You took s-some from me, but the rest? do you see what I meant when I said you were p-powerful?"



For some reason, this is making me feel really, really weird.



"I still don't get it," I say. "The power came from me, fine. But how did I get that knowledge of how to use it from you?"



"That's what's confusing," she says. "What you did was very ad-advanced. It usually takes years of witches practising together before they can synchronise like w-we did. B-basically, what you did was pick the knowledge out of my mind in a instant."



"And I shouldn't have been able to do that?" I ask slowly. She shakes her head, and I sit back in my chair, trying to digest it all.



I did something advanced with magic.



Yay me!



This kind of worries me though. I've always had a habit of my spells going wrong, people getting hurt. It never really got out of hand, because I never thought I had the power to do anything really big. Sure, I restored Angel's soul, but I don't think that was all me. Something went through me during that spell, and I wasn't in control at all. I may have started that ritual, but I wasn't there for all of it.



My other spells, though. The only thing I've been really successful at so far is floating a pencil. And aside from staking the occasional vampire if he decides to attack me in a stationary store, I don't think that's going to take me very far.



But this psychic thing I did with Tara? What I felt last night, I mean? wow. I've never experienced anything like it, and if that's what magic's meant to feel like, then count me in. This is definitely something I want to explore.



Tara's voice brings me out of my musings. "I don't think so," she says, and it takes me a moment to remember my question. Oh, right. The psychic thing.



"Well, maybe we're just good together," I tell her. As soon as the words are out of my mouth I realise that they sound a bit? not so much only about magic. I hope she didn't take it that way. I wouldn't want to lead her on or anything.



Ah, who am I kidding? She probably didn't even think about it like that. Just because I've suddenly decided I prefer the same sex (just Buffy, mind you. I'm not looking), doesn't mean that every girl I meet is going to be gay too. Tara wouldn't be gay. Nah, there's no way. And even if she was, it's not like it would matter to me. I've got Buffy. I'm not interested in anyone else. I wouldn't ever think about Tara that way.



So why is it that I feel strangely guilty about hanging with her?



And why didn't I tell Buffy about what I felt last night?



Damn.



*****************

I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

Is that something I should admit to?

Pedder.

(Oh, just btw. I was watching Band Candy and there was this line that I just thought everyone would appreciate. Buffy's just been on the phone to Willow getting information on the monster of the week (Larconis, I think), and she puts the phone down to hit Ethan. Joyce picks it up and hands it back to Buffy, saying "It's Willow. She wants you real bad." Made me smile, anyway.)



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