AUTHOR: Jamie (jim@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
BETA: Aly (Dreaming Of You)
DISCLAIMER: The Buffyverse and what?s contained within belong to Joss and anyone else who has a slice of the proverbial pie. Anything else, as well as this arrangement of words that follows, is mine.
SUMMARY: While Sunnydale falls prey to the ravages of the weather, a poignant series of events plays out against a backdrop of times long past.
SPOILERS: None.
DISTRIBUTION: Just e-Mail me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: An answer to the monthly theme challenge on Wiffy Dreamverse (http://www.wiffy-dreamverse). Let me just say, I don't like thunderstorms
PETALS & THORNS
Discard this message
Throw this bottle back in the ocean
Rip this page from the history books
Smash all the street signs
Erase all the maps
Forget my name
Forget my face
Because it's gonna rain, it's gonna rain
And it never ends
Thursday - Paris In Flames
-~-|-~-
The wind whipped furiously through the grey streets of Sunnydale, its ethereal passing felt by everything, no matter how big or small. It pushed like a runaway chariot through the town, throwing itself with wild abandon against walls, signposts, trees, and people. Its ferocity, its untamed rage made Willow shiver as she watched the scene from the warmth and sheltered safety of Buffy?s bedroom, a background witness to the sheer power of nature as it began to work itself into a tempestuous frenzy. She was entranced by it; fascinated by the destructive force that the natural world could wield as well as the life-giving powers it held. She watched the patterns of energy twist and turn in the developing storm, blinked as the first drops of heavy raindrops struck the glass. As she mused on the weather outside she found herself?drawn to it. She began to feel as if she was no longer watching the storm?but as if the storm was watching her?
She was drawn back to reality by a pair of arms sliding around her waist from behind, pulling her gently back into the embrace of their owner. The redhead smiled, feeling warm where she?d begun to feel cold before.
?Whatcha looking at?? Buffy asked quietly as she kissed her cheek. The redhead smiled. It had been over three months since they had first kissed, over the birthday meal that the girl had booked for just the two of them in Anatolli?s. She remembered that night like it was yesterday, every detail still vivid in her head.
?and the gentle sounds of light, airy music floating over to them, unobtrusively, simply background noise to their own music of conversation. The glow from the two candles on the table, set into glass bottles with the dripping and melted wax sealing the sticks in, licked their surroundings delicately. A slow, pulsating luminescence that occasionally flickered as a stray breeze caught the flame, making it dance as it floated through and past the fire?
?Nothin?.? Willow answered back, her eyes still idly watching the rain as it began to fall in earnest, spotting the pavement and leaving its mark on the window. ?S?gonna rain.?
?It is raining.? Buffy stated, nuzzling her face against her girlfriend?s neck. ?Probably gonna storm.?
?Mmm, probably.? The redhead sighed contently as she turned in Buffy?s embrace, wrapping her own arms around the girl?s neck. Slowly, gently, she pulled her lover toward her, just enough so that the blonde could respond by herself. Their lips met in a loving kiss, a soft meeting of flesh that was neither overtly erotic nor lustful, but just deeply representative of their desire for one another. As they broke away and rested their foreheads against one another?s, Buffy smiled shyly.
?What was that for?? She asked, the pleasure of the surprise evident in the tone of her voice.
?It?s a new rule,? Willow explained in what Buffy liked to call her ?official? voice, usually reserved for new Willow-laws and by-laws. ?Every time I see you, I have to kiss you.?
?Anything else in these rules I should know about?? the Slayer asked with a sultry smile as she pulled Willow?s waist ever-so-slightly towards her hips, just enough that they brushed against each other with the very faintest contact. The redhead simply sighed.
?Buffy?? She said uncomfortably, stepping away from the girl.
?Okay?I?m sorry!? Buffy replied, quickly moving forward to encapsulate her again in another embrace. ?Just forget I said anything.?
The rain continued to grow in intensity, thrashing the world below, punishing it for inexplicable reasons, other than to express its anger. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the darkening sky, followed not two moments later by the crashing, baritone rumbling of thunder. The clouds swirled in a maelstrom of pure chaos up above the hundreds of houses, awaiting with glee the chance to wreak their havoc upon the open world below. The storm had begun.
~~~
?occasionally presenting the tables around them with their chosen meals, the wonderful aroma of professionally prepared food filling the air around them. She looked fabulous, the black, form-fitting dress accentuating her body?s curves perfectly and offering a blatant, yet beautifully subtle contrast to her blonde hair. Her ears were adorned with small diamond studs and two small silver hoops through her upper-ear piercings, whilst her sapphire eyes reflected the prominent sources of light from the candles. I found myself hypnotised by her, ensnared by the work of human art that sat before me, that captured my full and devoted attention to every word she said?
Willow brought her legs up to her chest as she reflected once more on her birthday. It had been such a perfect time, a work of pure genius in its timing and execution. It was fabulously carried out, so much so that it had appeared to have almost clinical thought in its preparation. It was possibly the most romantic three hours of her life.
Possibly?
No, it was definitely the most romantic. All those times she had daydreamed of her Mr. Right sweeping her off of her feet, making clichéd gestures that young hearts find so appealing, she never would have imagined what would eventually be the case. Not only that it was a Ms. Right, but just the sheer emotion in every facet of that dinner, the slight quake and sound of desperate devotion in Buffy?s voice as she?
It had been almost perfect since then. A near fairy-tale romance that one reads about but never really thinks could take place. They were best friends already of course, but the confession of their love had only deepened that bond to the point where they were inseparable. Two halves of a once-whole person rejoined.
She knew that Buffy was the best thing that ever happened to her, that probably ever would. She loved her; there was no doubt in that.
So what was the problem?
~~~
?but no wine, unfortunately. Stupid drinking laws. The basket of breadsticks lay untouched in front of us as we sat, simply talking over our respective grape juices. We always talked, Willow and I. It was a thing of ours. In fact, we were known for never stopping, always having something to say to one another and always willing to listen to whatever the other had to say. We were each other?s soul mates. I smiled as the waitress brought our first courses over. Two bowls of steaming cannoli, served with a cheese-and-something sauce that I?d long forgotten the name of. The food wasn?t important to me. It was a shame really, since it cost so much, but the only thing that really mattered at that point was the girl in the dark red dress sitting across the table. I listened to her talk as I absently twirled my pasta, some far-off part of my brain telling me that I was hungry and I should eat. In fact, I definitely should eat because this smelled fantastic and I was sure it would taste the same. But all I wanted to do was listen to her voice?
Buffy closed her eyes briefly, her hands absently wiping a wet cloth over the already-cleaned surface of the plate. In fact, it was pretty much the same plate she?d been cleaning to begin with, over ten minutes ago. As with much when thoughts of Willow were concerned though, her mind wasn?t on the matter at hand. Far from it, it took comfort from the warm memories of their early times, absorbed in the intimacy of that night, before this tension had arisen between them.
When had it arisen?
Maybe it was that first night when she?d asked Willow if they could?be together. Express their love for each other in a more intimate way.
Hah, she thought, mistake number one.
She supposed that there had been this gap between them since then. Willow had shied away from that kind of physical affection. She?d said she wasn?t ready for something that big yet, and of course Buffy had accepted that. However when the time seemed perfect, when they were both charged and the Slayer?s body was crying out for her witch, she once again turned her down.
She exhaled quickly. Not quite a sigh, just a fast expulsion of air from her lungs as she set the dish down, staring out at the wind-buffeted trees and the lashing rain. They looked tormented from here, the trees. Tossing this way and that, writhing in the chilly embrace of the storm?s arms as they endured its onslaught. It was strange; she could find a kind of affinity with the scene outside. Tumultuous, angry, sad, violent?restrained? Her attempt at being suggestive earlier had fallen flat on its face, reintroducing the air of disappointment, frustration and even anger into the room. They?d embraced for little more than a few seconds before Buffy had mumbled a sentence about dirty crockery being left out, and promptly left. Willow hadn?t come down after her; in fact she hadn?t even heard a sound out of the room since she?d left. Only the staccato rapping of the heavy raindrops on the window-pane had kept her company, along with the occasional banshee-esque shriek of the wind as it whipped through a small gap somewhere near. The house felt very empty in that moment, devoid of anything human. The grey non-light from outside muted everything in the dark kitchen as she simply stood and stared, only passively taking in her surroundings with her subconscious, adding to her already sombre mood.
Breaking off from her vacant observation of nothing at all, she glanced down at the rack, bare of dirty crockery despite her claims, and blinked. She paused for a second, as if pondering her next move carefully, then with a swift decisiveness left the kitchen and made her way into the living room, her disappointment turning to frustration and bitter regret with every step she took.
Outside, the wind grew more and more powerful, hurling the drops of water that burst from the clouds towards the softening ground with ever-increasing speed and violence. The grey sky carried on swirling, an inky darkness beginning to seep into its composition, like a disease slowly infecting its victim.
~~~
?It?s really picking up out there.?
?Yeah, I guess.? Buffy curled up on the sofa, the light blanket wrapped around her small frame as she shivered, lost in her sullen thoughts even as Willow entered the room and commented quietly. The redhead frowned at her for a moment, before walking over to the sofa and motioning at the blanket.
?Mind if I share?? She asked, fingering the corner of the material
?Be my guest.? She lifted up one side and sat down, wrapping herself up in the warm covering as she glanced at her watch. 8:32pm. Lightning once again briefly illuminated the room, and as good as the insulation in the walls was, it couldn?t block out the intrusive rumble of the thunder. Buffy shivered as it echoed throughout the oppressively silent room, shaking the sofa slightly and causing Willow to look over.
?You okay?? She asked, moving closer to her girlfriend and bringing the trailing end of the blanket with her as she did so.
?Cold.? Buffy replied simply, almost sadly. Willow frowned again at her, wondering why she was in such a non-expressive mood. She was usually so exuberant, so full of life and conversation that her irregular moments of silence and uncommunicative grunts usually indicated a deeper problem. Nevertheless, Willow lay down, almost on top of the girl?s side as she wrapped her left arm around the shivering body.
?Better?? The redhead asked with a smile, which soon faded away as Buffy replied.
?No.?
She started, looking down at the unhappy girl beneath her.
?Why not?? She asked, the hurt evident in her voice as she slowly sat up. The younger girl remained where she was, unmoving, her feelings hidden.
?Because every touch from you is a reminder of what I can?t have.? She murmured, barely audible against the continuous assault of the rain.
?Buffy?? she sighed, echoing her earlier use of the girl?s name.
?What is it that makes you so afraid of me, Willow?? She asked, her voice flat and neutral as she stared forward. The redhead gaped, a horrified _expression_ on her face.
?Buffy, I?m not afraid of you! What ma-?
?Then I guess I just repulse you.? She sighed in resignation as she closed her eyes, cutting off Willow in mid-sentence. If at all possible, the girl?s _expression_ became even more distressed, a mixture of horrified and startled.
?No! Buffy!? Willow whined, her mind in something of a daze at the moment.
?I mean, let?s face it. That?s the only probable reason. You don?t want to be with me, hardly want to touch me.? She looked up for the first time at Willow, teary-eyed and flushed. ?Why don?t you find me attractive Willow?? She asked as her voice broke and the tears spilt over, falling ignominiously to the sofa.
?I?? Willow finally managed to stutter, after a long pause in which the only sounds were that of the outside weather and of Buffy quietly sobbing, her legs pulled right up to her chest under the covers. She couldn?t speak, her body felt locked in her place, as if her muscles were no longer under her control but merely attached to the puppet strings of her heart. Tear-jerked away from her wishes to speak, to stroke her hair lightly and protest that she was the single most beautiful creature in her existence. Instead, there was suffocating silence, smothering them with its thickness and opacity.
?I don?t find you repulsive?? She forced out finally, wondering why it had been so difficult. That sort of response should have flown off of her tongue in a heartbeat, to the curious, hopeful half-smile of her girlfriend, before they flew into each other?s arms. At least, that?s what it would have been like in the movies. But judging by Buffy?s lack of a response, Hollywood had a habit of lying. She tried again, her words coming in ragged bursts. Two at a time, three at a time, maybe half a word here and there, separated from its other parts by the constriction in her mind and throat. She was trying desperately not to babble, to control the torrent of meaningless words that would flow from between her lips if she let them. She supposed it was her way of dealing with her insecurity, of distracting attention from herself. She never had been good at laying bare her soul, at opening up the Pandora?s box of her emotions to others. It was strange, really. No one had ever truly seen her heart, not even Buffy. Her best friend, and her girlfriend.
Maybe that?s what she finally had to do, to make things right. Maybe this all stemmed from what she had kept back. Buffy had been completely open with her, trusted her with every secret and every little detail of her feelings since that night.
Despite the tension in the room, she smiled once more at the memory.
??And?then?? Buffy trailed off, her eyes locked nervously onto Willow?s as they sat in their dorm room. Their meal had finished hours ago, they?d returned and just carried on talking. At some point they?d sat on Buffy?s bed.
At some point, they?d moved next to each other.
And now, at this point, they were inches away. It had been a subconscious movement, an attraction of magnetic energies that seemed to exist between them. Neither of them really knew what was happening as Buffy ceased speaking. They gazed at each other, their previously friendly and amiable eyes now containing something warmer as their heads edged ever closer, so subtly that you wouldn?t know it was happening. Indeed, they didn?t until their eyes closed automatically as their lips met in a soft, loving embrace. They gently brushed over their counterparts, opened slightly to receive each other as the brushing turned to sliding, hesitant hands coming up to cup cheeks and rest on shoulders as the two women engaged in their first real _expression_ of affection?
She felt the familiar warmth of tears swell in her eyes as she looked down at Buffy, her hand reaching out hesitantly to stroke the side of her face, stopping, and finally withdrawing. The blonde?s _expression_ remained staring, broken, sad.
An unfixable tear in the fabric of her beauty.
Willow allowed the tears to fall from her eyes, down her skin and onto the girl?s hair, hoping that it would elicit some sort of reaction. Perhaps Buffy would turn around, gently kiss her tears away, taking each drop of moisture between her warm, soft lips as she had so many times before and allow that one ray of sunshine to break through the dark blanket of clouds that hung over them, both literally and figuratively.
But it didn?t happen, and she couldn?t tell if it ever would.
---------------------------------------
The rain continued to fall, the thunder continued to rumble menacingly across the broken skyline. The lightning continued to fork in sporadic bursts, liberating the world from its prison of grey hues if only for one blissful second, but then it was gone. The cancer of dark rain clouds had overtaken the entire canopy of the sky, leaving a thick, black blot that reached over the town and enveloped all within.
The sound of water hitting hard surfaces mixed with the wail of the wind and the sounds of atmospheric disturbance created a macabre orchestra of nature, a fitting soundtrack that split the sky as two hearts were ripped in half, two souls torn from one another and sent spinning?
Spinning?
Spinning?
Until they fell with the rain, and spiralled to the ground.