FIC: 'Cause Falling Just Happens (1/1)

[Kimber <kacoe@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

This is a fic that Pat Kelly wrote in response to a script challenge I
posted to you guys that NO ONE EVER ANSWERED. (If you would like to redeem
yourself, you can find the details of the challenge in message # 22504 of
the BuffyLovesWillow archive, or you can just follow this link:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/buffywantswillow/message/22504)

Any and all feedback can be sent to p.wabbit@xxxxxxxxxxx
<mailto:p.wabbit@xxxxxxxxxxx> Maybe iffen he gets enough feedback he?ll
re-subscribe to the list and start posting Buffy/Willow fic again :-)
::hint hint::

Without any further adeu?here?s the fic


-----------


Title: Cause Falling Just Happens
Potential Series: Damning Time
Author: Pat Kelly
Disclaimer: I make no money. All hail Joss and his army of Mutant Enemies.
And oh, if you have time, FOX and UPN, too. Two songs are included: "Come
Away With Me" by Norah Jones, off of her debut album of the same name, and a
version of "Something's Missing," an unreleased song by John Mayer.
Spoilers: Whole show through Season 7's, "Him."
Summary: Answer to a challenge Kimber asked me to turn into a fic a while
ago, and it's finally finished. Pain, saddness, desperate
reconnections....Buffy/Willow bliss? Perhaps.....Hope you enjoy. :-)
Rating: Strong R (Yes, that's right)
Note: I've rediscovered why I wrote Buffy and Willow in the very beginning.
And because I like Season 7 and writing in it, more parts could be on the
way...muse and time permitting, of course.
-------------------------------------------------------
Her interest in the companion text to the "British Literature" course she'd
enrolled in fading, Willow began to ponder the turns her life had taken. She
remembered her old, shy, babbling self, clearly. That was "Rosenberg 1.0,"
who used to thank her lucky stars that Buffy Summers had forsaken popularity
and high social standing to be friends with her. Actually, she still thanked
those stars; regularly, in fact, because if it were her making the
decisions, she wouldn't be living in Buffy's house, occupying the slayer's
once room and bed.

No, she wouldn't have given herself another chance, but she wasn't Buffy.
Her best friend wanted to move past all that had transpired, and help her to
deal. She wasn't positive she deserved it. See, the shy girl had become a
confident, extremely powerful witch. A witch that had torn her best friend
from a heaven, gotten seduced by the strength magick gave her, strength she
hadn't possessed before -- it was abused. She'd gone through several
versions to get to that point, and she was in the process of fixing the
latest bugs.

She loved that circumstances had switched; she loved that she could crush
all of the people who made her life hell for sixteen years, without breaking
a sweat. She never thought she'd ever attempt it, of course, but then Tara
died. The loss of her girlfriend and lover sent her catapulting over the
edge -- she became a puppet of the dark magick she'd flirted with. Though at
the time, she didn't care. She brutally murdered Tara's killer (among
others), and almost murdered her friends. Her family. Then there was that
part where she tried destroying the world.

But none of that seemed to matter to the people who cared about her,
amazingly enough. Xander risked his life to reach her, Giles took her to
England (going there was what got her interested in the literature) to study
under a coven that showed her how to start controlling her ability, and
she'd come to a few non-magick realizations. Realizations about her feelings
she wasn't ready to voice to anyone, which could hurt her. That was a chance
she was willing to take.

Upon returning to her native shore -- even though Buffy was scared -- she
was welcomed back into the house she'd called "home" for over a year. And it
truly did feel that way...like home. Even more so than the structure she
spent her childhood in. She was grateful for the love and support she found
here, she was. Everyone wanted to help, except they couldn't. Not yet. She
needed to discover "Willow" again, first; maybe update the version a little.

Being abruptly brought out of her reflection by the ringing telephone, she
sighed, placing the book down. She left it open with the spine facing
upwards, and grabbed the phone after sitting up. "Hello?" Hearing whom it
was, her eyes slowly narrowed as she tried to keep calm. "Oh, hey...Nope,
I'm just...Huh? How'd you hear...?" Her eyes widened while she listened.
"Uh, I think I'll pass...Yeah, I'm sure. Fame-schmame...I won't change my
mind, trust me."

She was getting tenser and tenser as the conversation continued, her anger
becoming frustration. "That's not what happened, okay? It wasn't like that
at all. A-and it's gone, so...No! I wouldn't. Not *ever*...You have no
idea...it so isn't something you should mess with...Not caring if you're
bored...Look, I don't do that kinda stuff anymore, and I don't have to
explain, and...just leave me alone."

Forcefully slamming the phone to its cradle on small dresser beside the bed,
she closed her eyes, inhaling slow, deep breaths. "She's wrong."

"Who is?" Buffy had been standing in the doorway, sort of eavesdropping. She
felt guilty about it, but she was getting desperate for her friend to let
her back in the loop. She walked into the room further, when she wasn't
acknowledged. "Will?"

"Amy." The redhead opened her eyes and answered. "She wanted to know if I
was free tonight, because..." She turned away, looking to the window.
"...Because she wants to see the temple."

The slayer was confused. "Which one? I'm not good with temples; I packed my
brain full of other facts in high school. Like, 'How to Behead and
Decapitate.'"

"Don't those both mean the same thing?" Willow's brow furrowed, as she
directed her gaze back to Buffy.

"Technically." Buffy admitted. "But to me, you 'decapitate' if you have
time, which is cleaner, and you 'behead' when you're in a rush, which is
sloppier." Her tone was light and conversational. "Really, it's a
cleanliness issue. All depends on how much 'demon' you're willing to wear on
your clothes."

The witch absorbed this. "I usually don't like any."

"Then I'd stick with decapitation whenever possible." The blonde was
frightening herself. "Back to my non-gross point, the only temple I know is
the one with the kids and the psycho cult that Harrison Ford..." As soon as
she said it, she left like a moron. "Wow, okay, that's gotta be from way too
many 'Summer Movie-Fests' with Xander." She smirked, but then Willow looked
back at her, and she frowned. "Oh, we-we were always thinking of you...Dawn
ate your share of the popcorn every time." She saw a weak smile, so she
ungracefully left the tangent she was on. "So we're obviously talking about
Sunnydale's own, 'Underground, World-Ending, Temple of Evil.'" Not 'Doom.'
She silently yelled at herself. "For the record, I knew that."

Willow nodded supportively. "Well, Amy wants to, 'Go have fun with it,'" She
rolled her eyes, "but she needs me to raise it. Cause I'm, ya know, I'm the
Big, Nasty, Uber-Bad. That's what's 'going around,' anyway." She shook her
head, speaking sarcastically. "I'm worse than the Wicked Witch, now."

"Munchkins beware." Buffy smirked.

"She doesn't get it, Buffy." The redhead told her, sighing heavily.

"I know." The blonde said, quietly.

"But you don't. Not totally." Willow got off of the bed and went to the
window. "No one does." Her voice lowered. "Magick is..."

"I wanna get it, Will." Joining her, Buffy put a hand on her arm, which was
shrugged off. Despite the hurt she felt from that small gesture, she kept
going. "I can't understand if you don't talk to me -- which you avoid doing.
I mean, since you've been back, we've had...what? Three conversations that
*didn't* involve some random baddy dumb enough to make a move? And they
barely lasted five minutes." She squeezed her shoulders. "We're all here,
and we worry. Talk to us. About anything."

There was a long stretch before the witch spoke, and the crickets made the
only sound. "It's complicated."

"That's great, because 'complicated' and I have a long history. When you
make it go away, you usually find out that it was just hanging around to be
an ass." The slayer countered, semi-jokingly. "I listen to your problems,
you listen to mine -- s'what we do. We've perfected it. We're the model
example of 'Best-Friendness' that everybody else tries to copy." She smiled
sadly. "I used to have full access to what was goin' on in there," She poked
Willow's head gently with her finger, "and these past couple years I...I
forgot how lucky I was; I miss it. I miss you."

"I miss you, too." Willow said sincerely, facing the blonde. "I can't,
though. I don't know what's going on in there, either." She tapped her
forehead. "It's scary -- there's a bunch of different 'Me's' fighting. Some
aren't nice, and I have no clue who's gonna win." Tears began falling from
her eyes. "The power that's inside me...it's there all the time. Every spell
I do, I'm thinking, 'It could be bigger,' or, 'Wouldn't it be cool if I did
this instead?' It's never enough, and I'm tempted." She admitted, gulping,
hoping Buffy didn't run. "Oz told me once that every day he isn't...being
'wolfy,' he hears like, a-a humming. Constantly. It was hard for him to
concentrate cause of his beasty side, and that's how it feels when I'm not
doing magick. Some days it's pretty quiet, other days it...gives me
headaches."

"Slayers have the same sorta deal." Buffy revealed, much to her friend's
surprise. "When I'm trading blows with a vamp, part of who I am shuts down.
Wherever my power comes from, whatever it is, that's what I'm mostly running
on." She carefully explained. "And I can't switch it off after patrol. It's
this ancient force; if I completely let go, it'd be dangerous. Also creepy."
She had known that for a while now. "I tried fighting it, and I probably
shouldn't have -- at least not as much as I did -- cause it is a part of me.

"Was a huge reason why I went to Spike; 'Primal Slayer Buffy' got sick of
being ignored. So she had her fun, and guilt came later. Life didn't exactly
matter -- just convinced myself I was still dead." Her stomach twisted as
she recalled those escapades. "I had sex of the disturbing kind, slayed,
ate, and slept. Faith actually had the right idea, not blocking it out.
Except she went too far, and...I guess I did, too." She paused. "I think
it's about balance, Will. All those 'You's'? They're pieces of the whole
person I happen to be fond of, that don't wanna share." She smiled, because
a fact dawned on her, then. "Hey, we're talking."

The redhead genuinely smiled in return. "I'm glad you had Tara helping you;
she was great at helping people. She always knew what to do. That day," She
breathed in deep, wondering why a day so perfect had to end so tragically,
"she said how much better you were. That you were finding your center.
'Idiot Me' didn't even realize there was something wrong." She was pulled
into the slayer's strong arms, which communicated that she wasn't hated. "I
wish she was here, Buffy. So much. If she was..." She wouldn't feel so
guilty.

Tara had been becoming a great friend, and someone she found to be special,
as Willow had already discovered. Without the blonde witch to lean on, she
most likely wouldn't have survived the previous year. Buffy was crying now,
as she hugged the girl tight. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him...I'm sorry I
couldn't save her for you." She meekly offered in apology.

"It's not your fault; don't think that." Willow ordered her embracer, the
emotion draining from her words. "I blame myself. The whole 'myself.'"

***

"I'm going to Kit's!" Dawn loudly announced from downstairs. "If I make it
to her house alive, I'll call -- promise! See you, guys!"

Buffy didn't want to stall the forward progress she and Willow were making,
but she had to temporarily assume the role of, 'Responsible Older Sister.'
"Wait a sec!"

Wiping her eyes, the slayer looked at the redhead apologetically, and then
hurried to the steps. The young brunette had sort of snapped Willow back to
reality; she'd opened up, accepted comforting contact...she didn't want to
do that. She couldn't. Her self-punishment wasn't over yet. No healing or
happy thoughts for her. It was too soon, and it wasn't right.

In the foyer, Dawn sported her best, pleading, 'Come On!' expression for her
more aged sibling. "You *said* I could! Xander was there...ask him!" She
crossed her arms over her chest. "I knew I should've gotten it in writing."

Buffy's eyebrows raised. "Whoa, I just wanna know a few, minor details. This
is me taking an interest in your life, here." She said, calmly, preparing to
lay on the sarcasm rather thick. "So how bout you drop the 'I Live in a
Prison' act, answer my pointless, annoying questions, and then you can
escape to go tell your friends how I don't feed you. Cause I'm such an
ogre."

"You forgot 'moody.'" The glare the teenager received stole her thunder.
"K...I-I can handle that." The teenager lowered her arms to her sides.

"Good." The blonde firmly nodded. "Now...who's gonna be there?"

"Just me, Kit, and Carlos. We're gonna order Wrestling off Pay-Per-View."
Dawn told her. "They got me into it; it's really athletic, and," Buffy's
disbelieving grin made her scowl, "it has really hot guys who hate wearing
shirts." She sighed, caught.

"Carlos isn't...um, sleeping over, is he?" Buffy dreaded the response.

"Oh my god -- Buffy! No! His brother's picking him up at eleven, and we
don't even like him like that. Geez." The brunette's face reddened.
"Besides, Kit's parents are there." She was still in shock. "I can't
believe...just cause you have this majorly weird, bizarro sex-life where a
pulse is like, optional, doesn't mean --"

"How's RJ?" The adult cut her off, and watched the cringing. But she was
more than a little embarrassed herself. "Sorry, but I have to check these
things." She waited a couple seconds to allow recovery. "You have your
phone, right? And stakes?"

The events of last week were fresh in the minds of all three occupants. They
tried not to mention it, and Willow (who was currently descending the
stairs) was the most ashamed. She'd wanted to use magick to turn the boy
into a girl. Sure, it was funny, but it also stemmed from loneliness. She
was supposed to be grieving, punishing, yet she desperately wanted
companionship -- someone to find solace in and ease her pain. How could she
do that to Tara? Because she was a horrible person, that's how.

"Double yes." Dawn was getting antsy. "Can I please go now?"

"Not stopping you." Buffy half-smirked. She wasn't exactly upset that the
sixteen-year-old was going to be someplace else for the night. "Have fun,
and be careful."

"I will." The younger sister kissed the older on the cheek. "Bye, Willow!"
Then, with her backpack strapped securely to her shoulders, she flew out the
door.

And the two friends were left to stare at each other -- Buffy at the foot of
the staircase, Willow stalled near the middle -- alone.

***

- I'm not alone, I wish I was
Cause than I'd know, I was down because
I couldn't find, a friend around
To love me like, they do right now, they do right now

- And all is well, I can't complain
Well okay, I guess I could
I got my place, I got my name

I chase my tail, all the same -


Fifteen minutes later, Buffy was in the kitchen, searching the refrigerator
for something eatable to have for dinner. Half-because her and the home's
other occupant were hungry, half-because they were avoiding the
conversation. Despite being at a point where they had begun to let their
guards down. Willow never distanced herself before; there had to be more
going on than the obvious grief and guilt. It had to involve them.
Otherwise, this didn't make sense. Shutting the door to the food-preserver,
she left the kitchen, wondering if she was causing it somehow.

- And I can't think about what's keepin' me down
Something's missing,
And I don't know how to fix it
Something's missing,
And I don't know what it is, no I don't know what it is, I don't know

- And it all comes, it doesn't last
It just walks in, with a bad you lash
And you never know, when it starts
Until this fog inside the glass around your summer heart -

There was a time she resented the redhead for bringing her back to life --
perhaps if she hadn't, perhaps if she felt like she could turn to her, Spike
wouldn't have happened -- but that period was long past. She was happy to be
alive, happy to be helping kids, happy to see Xander successful and Willow
living in the house again, while attending college. Sure, the dread that it
would all fall apart remained, but as a slayer she couldn't be ignorant to
the possibility. And the dread wasn't a 'Post-Resurrection' thing -- it had
always been there, forever in the back of her mind.

But that wasn't the issue here. The issue was, had she ever expressed
gratitude to her friend for returning her to the land of the living? Because
she suddenly wasn't sure. If she had, odds are it wasn't enough. Wait...

- Can't put my finger on what's keeping me down
Something's missing,

And I don't know how to fix it

Something's missing
And I don't know what it is, no I don't know what it is

- I can't be sure that this state of mine, is not of my own desire
I wish there was an over the counter test, for loneliness
For loneliness like this -

Turn to her instead of Spike? Well, obviously in a friendly way. That was
the friendliest thought of thoughts. What else could it be? It wasn't like
she would've wanted what the vampire tried to give her, from Willow...right?
No, of course not. Willow was Willow, and she was who she was, and that was
that. At this stage, certain things were set in stone, including that they
"consorted" in different camps. All right already. She was off the issue
again...wasn't she? A whirlwind was wreaking havoc in her head now. That's
what she got for thinking too much.

- Something's missing,
And I don't know how to fix it
Something's missing,
And I don't know what it is, no I don't know what it is -

Thankfully, entering the living room, it stopped so she could speak. "Okay,
we have leftover spaghetti from last night's, 'Anya-Supervised' dinner,
or..." She lost her place upon seeing the witch sitting Indian style on the
floor, calmly meditating.

She wasn't heard. The redhead was deep into it, and her eyes were closed.
Buffy hoped Willow wasn't doing it to get her emotions in check, because she
didn't want to have to break through an even thicker wall. Crying was a step
in the right direction, retreating from that release wasn't. Just as a
neutral observer, however, watching the young woman in this peaceful state,
the slayer saw how physically appealing other women of happiness might find
her friend to be. Personality-wise she was appealing too, no question, but
her hair was semi-styled and was curled/wavy near the ends, falling down
around her face in this really sexy...what the...? Where the hell was this
coming from?

"One, you're straight. Two, best friend. Remember, Buffy?" The blonde told
herself. "Guys, guys, guys. And you're supposed to be over the whole,
'nympho' phase."

Whatever the problem was, it wasn't so big that she couldn't go repair
things between them. Buffy went in, despite her brain's suggestions to the
contrary, and copied Willow's position on the floor, clasping their hands
together. They'd done this once before -- it seemed to help with the healing
process. Her friend knew she wasn't alone anymore, yet she didn't move. In
fact, she smiled just a little, lids still shut. These were all, good signs.
They stayed like that for five minutes at least, until two sets of eyes met
at the same time.

"Am I helping?" Buffy asked gently, to which Willow nodded. Seconds
evaporated. "You shouldn't blame yourself, Will. It's Warren's fault, and
only his fault."

The smile was gone, as the witch stiffened. "Nobody mattered to him, and he
didn't matter to anybody else, so I made him pay. Because he was sick, and
deserved it." She spoke with no emotion at all. "Maybe I'm sick, too." Then
she tried to separate herself from her friend's grip, to shy away from the
comfort, to no avail. "I don't --"

"You don't get to do this." The blonde interrupted, squeezing her hands.
"I'm not gonna let you. You aren't him; you're better. Way better."

"How?" Willow desperately questioned. "We both killed people. All right, I
was more creative, but..."

"Easy. He was psychotic, you're not." Buffy answered simply, before
elaborating. "You were under the influence of powerful magick. He didn't
have an excuse."

"But I...I asked for the power. I was, 'Damn the Consequences Girl.' I
wanted to hurt him."

"So would I. But you were hurting, you were lost, and it took control of
you; power does that. What the magick made you do...that wasn't the Willow
I'm looking at. I know it wasn't, because she wouldn't be sitting here.
Except you have to live with the pain, and, I wish you didn't." Came the
soft, sad response. "Did you want to hurt us, too?"

"No!" The redhead exclaimed, hoping that the blonde didn't believe anything
of what her darker half had said or done. "God, Buffy...I love..." She
swallowed the words. "You guys. We're family; you're my people. Y-you
believe me, don't you? You hafta believe me." She pleaded, her fear having
grown more than she intended. "Please."

"I do. Besides, s'not a family without you." Buffy assured her, and smiled
when the redhead stretched out to rest her head in her lap. She stroked her
strawberry-scented locks gently, recalling when they used to do this while
just watching TV, and how simple it was. They slipped into this comfort zone
with one another -- a zone they hadn't returned to often. "Thanks for
bringing me back."

Willow's teeth got exposed. "Thanks for coming back." She fiddled with the
laces on Buffy's shoes. "I'll be a better friend, I promise. You
shouldn't've had to go Spike...I wasn't doing a very good job last year."
What did that mean? Nothing. There was absolutely nothing underneath the
actual sentence at all. "Forgive me?"

"I can't even forgive myself." The slayer revealed, her stomach queasy. Her
big attempt to feel something, and the only feeling he produced was a
disgusted, empty one. "I can't believe I let it go that far with him. And
anyway, also not your fault. No forgiveness necessary. I wanted to talk to
you about it, though. Badly. But we all had our own, mini-black holes to
deal with."

It was quiet for a long minute. "You think Tara would forgive me?"

Buffy sighed at the loss of progress. They'd moved forward. "Will, her dying
isn't --"

The witch's eyes went wide as it dawned on her what she'd asked in the ease
of the moment, and where it could lead. She stood up and went to the sofa,
nervous. "Not that. It's not...anything. I'm cheery, honest. No more heavy
talk."

"Uh uh. No way." The more petite disagreed, going to her and kneeling. The
blockage was so close to being unclogged. "What is this? There's something
you're hiding, and it's an 'Us' thing. I can tell. Magick, Tara...don't
factor in. So come on, be honest with me. I wanna drop the tension; I wanna
be tension-free. I can't handle another day of tiptoeing."

"It'll be worse after." Willow said, but the listener would hear none of it.
If she couldn't direct the conversation elsewhere...fine then. "Tara
should've factored, that's why I'm all self-blamey." She frowned, though
nearly laughed at the quizzical expression she received. "Part of me knew
you weren't in a fiery dimension with mean, nasty things and pitchforks.
Portal or no portal, hero-type people don't go to a place like that." She
paused. "But I still spent all summer researching how to make you alive.
*All* summer. Me and Tara...there was no me and Tara. It was just me and
books. And I went through with it. Cause I'm selfish, and a bad girlfriend.
I needed you to be here more than I...needed to be with her."

It was wrenching to say that aloud.

"What're you saying? I mean...why?" Buffy was rather touched, yet
apprehensive. This was territory she insisted they tread on, and now she was
beginning to regret it.

"She tried to get me to leave you alone, to let you rest, but I couldn't."
The redhead continued, skirting around the question. "She started saying
stuff...crazy stuff, and I told her that, cause I figured it was. We were
sliding and rocky months before I was doing any spells. Then when you were
back, I wanted everything to be normal. I tried to make them be that way,
and it went blooey. I was denying; I had to. I knew you'd never..." She
turned her neck to look at the curtain covering the large window, her push
to lay all her cards on the table, not so strong.

"Never what?" Like a moth to a flame, she wanted to hear something she was
better off being deaf to.

"You don't wanna know, Buff." When she faced her once more, Willow saw that
Buffy had risen so they were at eyelevel.

"I don't?" The blonde countered in a low voice, debating whether or not to
inform the other person that their heads were going to bump if they got any
closer.

It was purely intentional on the redhead's part, even though she was aware
she had to cease and desist. "Nope."

"Oh."

"Hey, back door's unlocked." Xander said, strolling into the room suddenly.
"Might wanna fix that. I could've graduated top of my class at Burglar U and
emptied out this joint clean and easy."

Buffy quickly got to her feet so that it didn't appear as if they were
doing, what they'd almost done. She couldn't play dumb, and the near miss
only compounded her confusion. "Lucky for us defenseless girls you couldn't
steal money for tuition and get in, huh?" She joked, weakly. Unable to avoid
Willow's fixed gaze, she chose the cowardly route. "I gotta patrol."
Abruptly, out the front door she went.

And the witch was left with a lump in her throat that wouldn't get gone, as
she hugged a pillow to her chest.

"Ooo...kay." He had no idea what he'd walked in on.

***

Was that real back there?

The slayer mulled it over as she trudged through the cemetery. She didn't
want to tackle vampires; she just came here out of habit. She wanted to
think about how a supportive chat between best friends had led to her
admiring areas of Willow she hadn't until tonight, and how Willow could
mean...what she didn't get to say. There were influencing circumstances that
had to be clouding judgment. Well, actually, it boiled down to one
circumstance for both of them -- loneliness in the romantic sense. Sometimes
loneliness made people cling to other people they wouldn't normally. She
could testify to that.

The Spike of several months ago wasn't healthy for her, but at least she'd
had someone to go to every night. No matter how much she hated herself
afterwards, she still liked knowing that she had a place to be where she was
wanted -- even if she didn't want him back -- in a way her friends didn't.
Or so she thought. One of her friends might, and she wasn't sure she
returned the sentiment. She wanted companionship and she didn't mind sex,
but from now on, she'd only accept it if she loved the person who loved her.
As it stood, her relationship with Angel remained the only one that was
fully meaningful to her.

She didn't want that to be the case forever, but Willow...Willow and
her...she didn't know. She didn't trust herself. The redhead could read her
like a book if she chose to, better than Angel ever could. She was scared
they would both make a mistake that'd be difficult to recover from.
Especially because they were already recovering from other things, though
perhaps they could recover mutually. Together. Maybe she was in denial as
well. No. They weren't considering with clarity, and any decisions made
shouldn't be made lightly. Considering with clarity? Whoo boy. Cemeteries
weren't helpful.

"Guys, guys, guys." Buffy repeated like a mantra, seeing which grave she
stopped in front of and exhaling tiredly. "Tara...I have no idea what's
wrong with me. It came outta nowhere. You know how great Willow is, you
loved her. I love her too...but it's not the same thing, is it? Why would I?
How would I know if it was?" She asked as if she expected an answer, like in
the many, previous discussions they'd had, and she felt ashamed.
"K...suddenly thinking I shouldn't be talking to you about this. Because I
respect you and what she --"

As a result of her being distracted, she allowed six vampires to encircle
her, and they registered because their spokesdemon wanted them to. "Sounds
like the Slayer's conflicted, fellas. I remember being conflicted once." It
snarled. "I think it was when my heart used to work. That's her problem
right there. I say we make it stop; should solve everything."

"Wow, thanks for the offer, but I've tried that a couple times, and..." She
reached for stakes she didn't bring, paling. "...third time's a charm." They
all smirked, moving in on her as a pack would a trapped animal. "Great, just
great. When I *do* wanna die I'm prepared. When I *don't*..." She sighed and
got into a fighting stance, praying she could find a tree branch or some
kind of environmental assistance.

Before there was a blow of any kind, each vampire burst into flames around
her. She viewed the horrific sight with awed fascination; the slayer in her
was thrilled and impressed by the display. The orange glow dancing in her
eyes was bright, enticing, wild. She wondered if she ought to bother
shielding herself from it, but it consumed the evil in mere seconds,
evaporating, leaving her unscathed.

Her savior stood a foot or two away, and they stared at each other. Willow's
black, determined, angry eyes eventually softened. She looked ready to cry
again. By the time Buffy was hugging her, she had blinked -- her eyes were
now glassy and green. The blonde didn't care how discombobulated she was,
she shouldn't have walked out. The witch she held became a witch in order to
be able to fight on her side; risks were continually taken that she didn't
ask her to take. She owed her so much.

"You're incredible, you know that?" Buffy told her.

Willow sniffed, a cynical retort set to go. "Yeah, now that I'm not --"

"Kicking my ass?" The slayer smirked. "Nah, that was pretty incredible, too.
Glad you're back on my team, though. Being on the receiving end isn't
exactly fun."

"I like your team." The witch said, sincerely. "Veiny Willow's team was
lonely. She was...a stupid, evil, poop-head. Uh huh. I'm twenty-one.
Really."

Buffy chuckled. "Plus, the all-black? Major cliché. And she should've hired
someone to write her villainous quips. They lacked originality." She joined
her in the bashing. "It's good she's gone. She was tough; I couldn't take
her. Kinda made me look bad. My image is tarnished enough -- I worked hard
to earn that 'Huge Slut for the Undead' label."

"She'll stay away," Willow promised, and they were back in a 'line-crossing
situation' somehow, "cause I..." Lips inched closer and closer together, but
she ended the opportunity this time, removing herself from off of Buffy's
body. For two reasons: the slayer seemed scared, and she could see her
deceased girlfriend's grave over the blonde's shoulder. "Uh, Xan-Xander went
home cause Spike called and couldn't find the remote for his TV. He thinks
his apartment is trashed now, and you're not a slut."

The part-time counselor smiled at the fact that she'd changed roles. "That's
debatable, but I appreciate the support."

"Comes with the job." The redhead shrugged, the corners of her mouth
fighting to smile.

Buffy coughed and kicked the grass with her foot. "Listen, about --"

"See? I told you -- you didn't wanna know." Willow knelt by Tara's grave.
"She was right. England gave me a lot of quiet, reflecting time. I picked
you instead of her because I," She resolved to finish this, so the aftermath
could ensue, "love you more, and I'd keep bringing you back. Even if my
brain and everybody else tells me not to. I'm sorry." She ran her fingers
over the letters of the carved name, apologizing to them both. "I didn't
mean to. I know it isn't fair, but it just happened, and I can't...un-happen
it. So I'll move and you won't have to...you know, pretend to not be freaked
and still like me."

'Why would I?' Buffy thought again, staring down at the woman bearing her
emotions in a graveyard. She couldn't carry of the burden of them another
step. The observer pondered about what Willow meant to her, and about how
Willow cared enough that she was willing to walk away, which Spike couldn?t
manage until it was too late. Except that Buffy wanted the redhead with her,
and the stress lines faded. 'Because I do.'

Because Willow was Willow, and at some point the admiration of her features
surpassed what was suitable for a friend. It wasn't explainable. The shift
could've been gradual. It could've been recent. It could've been that
hanging with Tara and spending months of replaying her failed, often
disastrous relationships with men, a stray thought crept in -- Would it be
different or is it me? -- and subconsciously, she began to broaden her
boundaries, stretch her limits. It could've been a passing, jealous thought
that left as fast it as it arrived, when Willow said she'd fallen for a
girl. It was all speculation, however.

That, in the larger picture, didn't count for anything. All that mattered
was that she wanted she wanted to lovingly consort with her best friend of
seven years, and it didn't unnerve her. She pulled the witch upright, and
guided her head up so she could see her face. Willow was greeted with an
accepting expression she hadn't anticipated. She had to be dreaming it.
Yes -- this was all a dream that went nightmarish, and she'd wake up not
having jeopardized their friendship. Eyebrows lifted questioningly.

"Am I freaking?" The slayer asked, gently.

"You could be pretending not to. You're sweet and 'Buffy-like' that way."
Willow complimented, her lips going dry when the slayer's head shook in the
negative. "Then, um...what are you doing?"

"Waiting."

"For more vampires?" Another shake of the head was her answer. "For..." She
pointed to herself. Now a nod. "Oh."

Happy feelings threatened to overwhelm her, but were being held at bay by
one thing. Her not wanting to hurt Tara more than she already had, ignoring
the commands of every muscle she claimed ownership of. And as if the sky was
trying to get her attention, it started to rain. It wasn't torrential, just
a calm, evening shower whose drops poked the top of her head until she
craned her neck to see the stars dotting the night. A few almost appeared to
twinkle a little brighter than the rest, and as she deciphered what they
formed, a tear traced a path down her cheek.

'The Big Pineapple.' She recognized with a smile of remembrance, and light
laughter. 'Thanks, baby.' Having her blessing, though unsure she deserved
it, she then said goodbye.

Not resisting them, the happy feelings began to flood in, and she dragged
Buffy off of the grass to the wet, asphalt road (blessing or no, moving on
wouldn't have felt right where they'd stood). Grinning, she placed two hands
on the sides of her face, and kissed her deeply as the rain fell. Just in
case this was a dream, she was going to take advantage of it, and go full
tilt.

How did the blonde know she wanted this? Because once the surprise at the
confident aggressiveness dissipated, she gave as good as she got. Matching
the force, pulling Willow to her, and running her hands through hair that
dampened more and more. They separated for air, and her breath hitched as
her neck was assaulted with tiny, feverish kisses -- slow was out, then.

"I feel cleansed, don't you feel cleansed?" Buffy managed to croak out,
biting back a moan. Something was mumbled into her skin, which she guessed
was agreement. "Perfect. Let's go," A whimper escaped, "home."

It was a struggle to get there, because they had an issue with constantly
invading personal spaces.

***

They slowed down just long enough to slip off their shoes when they got
inside, and then Willow brought their mouths together again. It was so
intense that they giggled whenever they were able to make coherent sounds.
Buffy tried to direct her towards the stairs, but inducing voluntary
movement was a hopeless goal, so she lifted her up, and held her tight with
one arm. The redhead wrapped her legs around the blonde's waist so she
didn't fall, and encircled the neck with her arms. This was actually going
to happen. It *was* happening.

- Come away with me in the night -

They ascended the stairs kissing the entire time, Willow's hands sometimes
sliding beneath her collar to roam along her back. Just to feel it. So she
didn't lose her balance, Buffy steadied herself with the railing, courtesy
of her free arm, and they made it to level ground without incident. She
turned down the hallway and pushed Willow up against the wall, causing the
mirror in the bathroom to rattle, believing she could even the field
somewhat. But her friend and soon-to-be lover knew what she was doing. God,
this was...passionate. Indescribably so.

- Come away with me

And I will write you a song -


Unhooking herself from Buffy's smaller frame, Willow unabashedly leaned
forward into it, forcing the woman to head backwards. It put space in
between her and the wall, and she showed the slayer's double-pierced ear
affection similar to what the lips were treated to. With an approving groan,
Buffy's competitive nature kicked in, and her hands began to grope and
massage the redhead's chest through the shirt and bra inhibiting access to
it. She had to curtail Willow's collapse, and it wasn't an accident that the
shirt was torn off in the midst of this.

- Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can't tempt us
With their lies -

Lifting her again, she delivered her to a bed, and tossed the unlucky shirt
somewhere in the corner with her own -- she was in charge now. Climbing onto
the mattress with a lying Willow, she planted kisses on the tops of her
breasts and the inviting cleft in between. Hands sailed through her blonde
hair, trying to communicate need. If that wasn't enough, the noises of
satisfaction and frustration told her everything she had to know. She
grinned and worked her way down, nipping and marking the beautiful, flat
abdomen, and was awfully pleased with the throaty cry that was produced upon
reaching the navel.

- And I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high
So won't you try to come? -

Her partner was gorgeous. And hearing her name in short gasps...was like
being in heaven. They were trembling. Her because, once she discarded the
pants, the only barrier preventing her from getting to know Willow in the
most intimate of ways was a thin piece of fabric; Willow because, well, she
knew what was in store. And she clutched at the sheets, feeling the
temperature change. Knuckles white when she felt Buffy's breath tickle the
trimmed, soft hair delicately covering her folds, she sighed, bracing
herself for the ultimate contact...that was delayed. It was agonizing.


- Come away with me and we'll kiss

On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you -

She bit her lip as the slayer returned above to remove the final article of
clothing, causing a thigh to connect and rub where her mouth had not.
Because that mouth was busy elsewhere. It was torture. Hot, erotic,
wonderfully pleasurable torture she didn't want to end (and that Buffy was
going to pay for), but torture nonetheless. She was amazingly sensitive
thanks to the higher efforts; the central, more pinkish areas of her breasts
were swollen, and every taste and flick of the tongue sent joy-filled sparks
speeding throughout her nerves. She caressed up and down her torturer's arm
until the torturer got the hint, and they kissed hungrily.

- And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms -

Just prior to the blonde taking pity on her, three words were whispered into
the redhead's ear, only heightening her tumble over the edge minutes later.
She spasmed and clenched precise, talented fingers, and this new sensation
served to increase the slayer's arousal. Buffy rode out the vibrations of
the release, and they sent shivers down every inch of her perspiring skin.
Her hazel eyes were glazed. Now that the she'd given in, she didn't ever
want to stop touching the person below her. No other reality existed.

- So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night -

Willow loved being desirable, but turnabout was fair play, which was why she
basked in the afterglow only briefly. She still had plenty of strength left
to flip Buffy over. There were hours to go yet.

- Come away with me -

***

It was 2:30 in the morning when Buffy, recuperating, decided that
nourishment was needed to replenish sapped energies. She shuffled to the
kitchen comfortable in her slight case of nudity, grateful it was just them
in the house, and hurried back to Willow's room with a gallon of "Fudge-Nut
Brownie" ice cream. Rejoining a delighted witch in bed, she handed her a
spoon, and they dug in. As far as post-coital activities went, it didn't get
any better than this. The slayer had no desire to bog herself down with
potential consequences or things that could go wrong anymore. At the start
of summer, she swore to herself she was going to enjoy life.

Being here was damn enjoyable.

Life had its crappy, low points, and there was nothing she could do to dodge
them, no matter how much she might try. All she could do was soak up the
high points, making the most of what she and Willow had embarked upon. She
wouldn't sabotage this for herself; the redhead was too important for her
shrink-worthy issues to get in the way of. The reasons were too numerous to
list, why she loved her (in the traditional and extra ways), she just did.
She wouldn't throw this new dimension away for anything. It was already
special, and if circumstances were different, she would never have known.
But she'd undo Tara's death if it were possible.

Except it wasn't, and she wasn't going to apologize for what she felt, and
Willow had apologized enough. They'd care for each other; Tara had to know
that.

Tonight was a pleasant beginning. She hadn't made love in a long time. Sex
didn't even compare to what they'd shared in the past four hours. Well, she
wanted to reconnect...she accomplished that and then some. Life was funny.
Often, when you envision how something is going to turn out, you're let
down. However, occasionally, life cuts you a break, and your expectations
are left behind in the dust. Buffy was slowly but surely getting it. Those
instances were what were worth living for. And seeing a true smile plastered
on her lover's face was the best reward.

The sight of her flushed and naked, half-under sheets eating ice cream, was
a close runner up at second-best.

"So, um," Willow fed her a spoonful, cupping her hand below to catch drips,
"how long have you been gay?"

The blonde comically swallowed, her eyes wide. "Carry the 1, subtract
the...how long has it been since the cemetery?" She questioned in return,
smiling. "You complaining?"

"No, no, no, no...definitely no." The flustered redhead let loose rapidly.
"It's just...wow...guy parts aren't girl parts, and...how'd you do that?
How'd *I* do that? Man, Buffy, that was --"

"Steamy? Fantastic?" Buffy helped her find the words, as she fed her in
mid-sentence. "Fantastically steamy?" She said hello to 'pride' when the
emphatic nodding started. "We didn't discuss, I know -- we just did. And
did, and did." They both grinned. "It had nothing to do with, 'Horny Slayer
Sex Withdrawl,' okay? I wouldn't just use you for a 'one night' thing."
She'd gotten that out of her system with the undead Brit. "I dunno where it
came from; or when. You said you loved me, and I guess it...clicked.
Discovered my 'Inner-Rainbow.' Then we..."

"Mm. And we..." Willow let her eyes flutter shut a moment, replaying every
detail, a little hum playing on her lips. "Goddess."

"Yeah." The slayer watched as some ice cream dribbled down her girlfriend's
chin; her gaze was locked to it. "Again?" She couldn't tell whether Willow
was frightened or turned on just then. "Kidding, I'm kidding. I do believe
in sleep, you know."

"That's a good belief. Cause if we're gonna be girlfriendly, you're gonna
hafta start sleeping better. A tired slayer is a cranky, grumpy slayer. Even
though you're cute when you're grumpy." Willow blushed, and Buffy broke out
into a broad smile. "We-we are gonna be girlfriendly, right?"

"Well, I am feelin' the love." Buffy said, just before she leaned forward
and kissed/licked the stray ice cream right off of her chin. Then she
repeated the action on the puffy lips a minuscule distance away. "For you;
the love for you. Question answered?"

"Yep -- lots of lovin' in this room." The witch proclaimed, contentedly.

"Back to the cuteness of me." The blonde attempted to steer the conversation
to what she thought was an inexhaustible topic, putting the lid on the ice
cream, which made Willow frown. She set it on the floor, and then cuddled
the disappointed college student in her arms, which improved the mood. "But
you have to remember...before sleep, carton in freezer. I'll forget, and if
we both do, replacing it comes out of your share." She informed her,
teasingly. She had to see the 'That's Unfair' face. "Fine, I'll get up
and..."

"No moving." Willow ordered. "We need a little freezer. For 'After' Dairy
Only. We can be greedy and eat it all ourselves -- ooh, like a private
stash, and I can whip up a password spell. Like, 'ThankaYouteMrCowusiseus.'"
The phone prohibited any comments, and for a second, she held her breath.
"If that's Amy..."

"I got it." Buffy stretched and clawed for the ringing device until she had
it in her grip, and then talked. "Hello?...Anya? It's really early. Why are
you calling?...No, we weren't. You woke us..." Her and her girlfriend's eyes
bulged at her error. News slipped out at the wrong times. "*Me.* You woke
me...Willow's snoring," She got smacked, "in her own room...We're
not...What?" She choked. "Gee, I'm flattered you think I'd make a great
lesbian," Willow had to muffle her laughter, "but...Oh. Well, you can tell
Xander...anything but that." She sighed. "I'm sorry he bugs you...So yell at
him...Okay, good night." The phone was hung up with a noticeable finality.
"If we ever bond, I'll have to skip town again." Her expression turned
serious. "We'll beat it, Will. The 'From Beneath You it Devours' Bad, the
magick issues, and whatever else is coming...I don't know about the
'surviving' part, but I'm not, not fighting."

"Me either. I mean, my life just got happy and there's stuff to do, college
to graduate from...so I say, bring it on." The redhead concurred, toughly,
then lip-locked. "And you do." The redhead rolled on top of the blonde,
smiling lopsidedly at her puzzlement. "Make a great lesbian. A...super damn
good one." A brow raised -- 'Super Damn?' "Ya know, for a first timer and
all."

That sounded like a challenge to the slayer. "I thought we were getting to
the Zs."

"Sure are." Willow said, looking equal parts innocent and mischievous. "When
I'm finished, you're gonna sleep for hours; that's a 'Willow Promise.' Thank
me later?"

Devouring wasn't all bad. Depended on the context.

***

It was 12:30 in the afternoon when the bedroom door opened from the outside.

"Willow, have you seen Buffy? She's not in her room and d'you know the back
door's...?" Dawn unexpectedly, but understandably, lost her train of
thought. "Oh my God! Holy frickin' crap!"

---------


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